#AND I WANNA MAKE IT CLEAR BEFORE SOMEONE TRIES TO TWIST THIS UP

[slutdge]

im tired of meeting other leftists but theyre so locked in on the most asinine aspects of politics possible. im so sorry i didnt meet your social justice enamel pin quota and listen to a band that said faggot once in the 90's. do you do anything besides tweet free palestine and wear 15 dollar patches that say Women Rule The World. quickly.

[oldsoul007]

crawling back to you

joel miller x reader

summary: you haven’t seen joel since he let you leave boston with tommy, until…

a/n: grumpy joel, angsty and fluffy

joel miller masterlist

The last thing I remember was the blinding midday sun and the crackling of the dried leaves beneath my boots. I’d been walking for hours—too many hours—with no food, no water, and no sign of a single soul. The world was too quiet, and when the dizziness hit, I knew I’d pushed too far.

I hadn’t seen the raiders coming. Not until it was too late. They burst out from the tree line, shouting, armed, and I’d tried to run. But my body betrayed me. My knees gave out before I could process what was happening, and the hard, cracked asphalt of the road rushed up to meet me as they closed in.

Then darkness.

For a while, there was nothing but a foggy void, until I felt something. A jolt of awareness. The weight of the world slowly pressed back on me: the ache in my limbs, the sting in my throat, and the cold chill of shade falling over my skin.

Voices.

“You think she’s alive?”

The words floated into my consciousness, sharp and clear. My heart raced. The raiders—had they caught me? I wanted to open my eyes, but my body wasn’t listening.

“How the hell should I know, Ellie?”

That voice was rough and edged like the bark of an old tree. Deep. Grumpy. Close. Familiar.

“She looks alive. Kinda.”

“Kinda doesn’t cut it, kid.” A sigh, heavy and annoyed. “She’s breathing, so that’s a good sign. Or bad, depending on how you wanna look at it.”

The ground beneath me was rough gravel digging into my side. Someone must’ve moved me. My knife. My hands twitched instinctively for it, but I didn’t feel the familiar weight at my belt.

“She’s got a backpack,” the girl—Ellie—said. “Maybe she’s got something useful on her.”

“Don’t even think about it,” the man snapped.

“Relax, I was just saying!”

They didn’t sound like raiders. But I wasn’t taking chances. Slowly, I forced my eyelids to lift, but it was like peeling back layers of lead. The light stung, and all I could make out at first was a blurred silhouette looming above me.

“She’s moving!” Ellie’s voice jumped an octave.

“Yeah, I can see that,” the man grumbled.

The shapes above me sharpened: a man with graying hair and a perpetual scowl crouched close, while a girl with curious, wide eyes hovered just behind him. Bottoms of their faces covered with a bandana. My muscles tensed, and instinct screamed one thing: fight.

I surged up, lashing out before I could think. My body felt sluggish, weak, but adrenaline drove me forward.

“Whoa!” Ellie yelped, stumbling back.

He moved faster than I expected. In one fluid motion, he grabbed both of my wrists and shoved me back down onto the ground, pinning me there with a strength I had no hope of matching.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His face was inches from mine, his grip like iron.

“Get off me!” I spat, twisting against him, but it was useless.

“You wanna try that again?” he snapped, glaring down at me. ���Because I guarantee it won’t go how you think.”

“Joel, should I—” Ellie’s voice cut through the wind, and I glanced up to see her pointing a gun at me.

“Hold on,” the man—Joel—said. His voice made something in my chest clench, though I couldn’t place why.

He shifted, one hand leaving my wrist to yank the bandana down from my face. The cold stung my skin as it was exposed to the biting wind, but all I could focus on was his face.

Joel froze. His eyes widened as he stared down at me, his grip slackening just enough for me to shove at his chest.

“Y/n?”

Hearing my name in that voice—his voice—hit me like a gut punch. I blinked up at him, snowflakes catching on my lashes as my brain struggled to catch up.

“Joel?” I rasped, disbelief and anger warring inside me.

He let go of my wrists, sitting back slightly, but I wasn’t done. With a grunt, I shoved him hard enough to make him stumble.

“Get off me, asshole!” I snapped, scrambling to my feet.

Ellie lowered her gun, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you know her?”

Joel stood slowly, brushing snow off his jacket, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah… I know her.”

“Know me?” I barked, crossing my arms against the cold. “That’s all you’ve got to say after years?”

“Not now,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm. “We need to move. It’s not safe out here.”

“Oh, now you care about safety,” I shot back, but the storm was picking up again, and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t stay out here alone.

Ellie glanced between us, still holding the gun loosely. “So… are we just letting her come with us?”

“She’s coming with us,” Joel said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I snorted, pulling my scarf back up. “Like hell I am.”

“Fine,” Joel said, stepping closer until he was towering over me. “Then freeze out here on your own.”

We locked eyes, the familiar stubbornness in his gaze making my blood boil. Finally, I sighed, muttering under my breath. “Fine. But if you pull something like that again, I’m putting a bullet in your knee.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Joel smirked—barely, but I caught it. “Good to see you haven’t changed.”

I looked around us.

“Where—” My voice cracked, my throat dry. “Where are they?”

“The raiders?” Joel asked, his tone clipped. “Dead. You’re welcome.”

Ellie shot him a look. “You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

Joel ignored her, turning to scan the horizon like he was already regretting stopping to help.

Ellie turned back to me, her tone gentler. “You need water? Food? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

I swallowed hard, forcing out a hoarse whisper. “Water…”

Ellie looked at Joel expectantly. “She needs water.”

Joel sighed heavily, like this was the biggest inconvenience in the world, and dug a bottle out of his pack. He shoved it toward me without a word, his scowl deepening.

“Don’t drink too fast,” he muttered. “You’ll puke.”

I took the bottle with shaking hands, sipping carefully.

Ellie gave me a small smile. “See? He’s grumpy, but he’s not so bad., but i’m guessing you knew that already. I’m Ellie, by the way. What’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” I croaked.

“Well, y/n,” she said, leaning back on her heels. “Looks like you’re stuck with us for now.”

Joel shot her a glare, but she just smiled sweetly at him.

As I sipped the water, trying not to choke, I couldn’t help but wonder why Ellie seemed so eager to help me—and why Joel seemed so reluctant to.

The pain in my thigh hit me like a freight train the moment I tried to stand. It was sharp and hot, radiating up my leg with every twitch of movement. I glanced down and saw the blood, dark and sticky, soaking through a jagged tear in my jeans. My stomach turned.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, dropping back to the ground.

Joel and Ellie were still nearby, Joel pacing with his rifle slung low, Ellie crouched by the fire, poking at it absentmindedly. I pressed my hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it wasn’t doing much good.

“You okay?” Ellie asked, looking up.

“Fine,” I lied, my voice tight.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Joel muttered without even glancing my way.

I glared at him but focused back on my leg. I needed to stop the bleeding, clean it—do something before it got worse. My hands fumbled as I tried to tear a strip from the already-ruined part of my jeans, but my fingers were shaking too much to get a good grip.

“Dammit,” I hissed, tugging harder.

Joel finally turned, watching me struggle with an expression that screamed irritation. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, not looking at him.

“Yeah, sure looks like it,” he said dryly, crossing the distance in a few long strides. Before I could protest, he crouched down in front of me and grabbed my leg.

“Hey!” I yelped, jerking back.

“Hold still,” he growled, yanking my jeans up over the wound to get a better look.

“What are you—”

“Helping,” he said sharply, cutting me off. “Because you clearly can’t do this yourself.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need you bleeding out and slowing us down,” he shot back, his hands already pulling a small bottle of alcohol from his pack.

I froze when I saw it. “Wait—wait.”

He didn’t stop, just uncapped the bottle and dumped it onto the wound in one swift motion.

Pain exploded through my thigh, white-hot and searing. I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of me, my whole body jerking away from him.

“Goddammit!” I shouted, clutching at my leg. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Stop moving,” Joel barked, his hand clamping down on my leg to keep it still. “You’re just making it worse.”

“You could’ve warned me!”

“I did,” he said flatly, grabbing a clean cloth and pressing it firmly against the cut.

“Yeah, great warning!” I hissed, still trying to recover from the burn.

Ellie was sitting nearby, watching the whole thing with wide eyes. “Uh, yeah, he’s not exactly the most… delicate, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Joel ignored her, wrapping the bandage tightly around my thigh with the kind of practiced efficiency that made me wonder how many times he’d done this before.

“Can you walk?” he asked once he was done, standing and offering me a hand.

I stared at it for a second, then grudgingly took it. He hauled me up, steadying me when my leg wobbled.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, even though I wasn’t.

“Sure you are,” he said, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe me.

Later that night, we camped near a small fire Joel had built, the warmth of the flames doing little to ease the tension between us. Ellie sat across from me, poking at the fire with a stick, while Joel leaned against a nearby tree, his arms crossed and his rifle within easy reach.

“So,” I said after a long silence, my voice cutting through the crackle of the fire. “Where are you two headed?”

Ellie perked up immediately, her mouth opening before she could stop herself. “We’re going to—”

“We’re going to the Fireflies,” Joel interrupted, his voice steady and sure.

Ellie froze, her eyes darting between the two of us. “Joel!?” she hissed, clearly caught off guard by his honesty.

I frowned, looking between them. “The Fireflies? Why?” I could tell there was something they weren’t saying, something important.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Because Ellie’s immune,” he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of what those words meant. “And they’re working on a cure.”

I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. “Immune?” I repeated, glancing at Ellie.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to someone new knowing. “Yeah,” she mumbled, shrugging. “I got bit. Didn’t turn. That was, like, forever ago.”

I stared at her, processing what Joel had just admitted. “And you’re taking her to the Fireflies,” I said slowly. “Because they think they can use her immunity to make a cure.”

“That’s the idea,” Joel said, his tone neutral. “Whether it’ll work or not, that’s anyone’s guess.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms as I studied him. Joel wasn’t the type to trust anyone with this kind of information lightly. The fact that he was telling me now said a lot.

“And you’re okay with me knowing all this?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Joel held my gaze, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t’ve said anything if I didn’t trust you.”

That hit harder than I expected. For a moment, I couldn’t find the words. Joel and I had history—messy, complicated history—but this… this was something else.

After a long pause, I finally spoke. “Where are the Fireflies at?” I glanced at Joel, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Salt Lake City,” he replied, his tone flat, as if that was the only answer he had to offer.

I nodded, thinking for a moment. “That’s a hell of a trip.”

Joel didn’t respond to that, so I let the silence stretch a bit longer, watching the flickering flames. The crackle of the fire was the only thing filling the space between us.

I shifted slightly, the weight of the night starting to press on me. “I was with a group,” I said after a beat, keeping my voice low, like the words might break something if I said them too loud. “Good people. Or… they were. Got separated after some raiders hit us a couple days back. Didn’t have much of a choice but to run.” I paused, my gaze flicking to Ellie, who was staring at the fire, her expression unreadable. “I wasn’t planning on being out here alone.”

Joel watched me for a long time, and I could tell he was taking in every word, sizing up what I said, probably weighing if it added up. “You got a place to go?” he asked.

I swallowed, hesitant. I hadn’t told him much about Jackson yet. The thought of it felt like a fleeting memory, a piece of the past I wasn’t sure I could go back to. But the truth was, it might be the safest place for all of us, at least for a while.

“Yeah,” I finally said, my voice steady. “I got a home back in Jackson. It’s… safe there. Got supplies, people. It’s not perfect, but it’s the closest thing to normal I’ve seen in years.”

Ellie looked up then, her brow furrowed. “Jackson? You mean, like, an actual town?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Walled-in, secure. We’ve got farms, housing, everything you’d need. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than out here.”

Joel’s face darkened slightly, though I couldn’t tell if it was from hope or suspicion. I felt the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air between us. I had to bite back the words that wanted to spill out—about Tommy, about how he was safe and well in Jackson. But I stopped myself. Ellie was sitting there, and I didn’t know how she’d react if Joel found out his brother was there.

Instead, I kept my tone even. “If you’re heading to Salt Lake City, we can stop there first. Restock on supplies, maybe grab a decent meal. Then you can keep moving.”

Joel turned his gaze toward me, his eyes narrowing a little, his jaw clenched. “You sure it’s safe?”

I nodded, my voice firm. “It is. Safer than out here, anyway.”

Ellie, still quiet, looked from Joel to me. After a moment, she shrugged, but her gaze lingered on me for a second too long. “I mean… doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Joel looked at her, then back at me. He hesitated for a moment, and I saw the conflict flicker in his eyes. Finally, he gave a small nod. “All right. We’ll stop there. But just for supplies. Ain’t got time to waste.”

I nodded, a small relief washing over me. We’d do this. I’d help them, guide them, and maybe even find a moment to tell Joel about Tommy—if I could. The fire crackled between us, the sounds of the night closing in as we all settled back into the quiet.

Joel leaned back against a log, his eyes flicking upward to the stars, while Ellie poked the fire again, lost in her own thoughts. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself, feeling the weight of the journey ahead pressing down.

I wasn’t sure what would come next, but I was going to get them to Jackson first. Maybe, after that, I could finally tell Joel the truth.

Joel didn’t say anything else, just turned his attention back to the fire. But the tension between us felt lighter now, the weight of unspoken things settling into something almost comfortable.

Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for sure: Joel trusted me enough to tell me the truth. And that, in this world, meant everything.

The three of us sat around the small campfire, its glow casting flickering light onto the trees surrounding us. The temperature had dropped as the sun set, and I was grateful for the warmth of the flames and the smell of something vaguely edible Joel was cooking over them.

Ellie sat cross-legged on her sleeping bag, fiddling with the pages of her battered joke book. She had already gone through a handful of them today, and each time Joel looked like he was about ready to roll his eyes out of his head.

“Okay, okay,” Ellie announced, holding up a hand as though commanding our attention. “This one’s a classic. You ready?” She cleared her throat dramatically, glancing between me and Joel. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

I stifled a laugh already, knowing she was probably more excited about the punchline than the joke itself.

Joel, stirring the pan of food, gave her a sideways look. “Do I even wanna know?”

“An investigator!” Ellie exclaimed, cackling as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

I couldn’t help but chuckle along with her, more at her reaction than the joke. Joel just shook his head and sighed heavily, setting the pan down on a flat rock by the fire.

“She’s been doin’ this since we left Boston,” he muttered, as though he were lamenting some great burden he’d been forced to bear.

“Damn right I have!” Ellie said, puffing out her chest with mock pride. “You know you love it, Joel.”

He gave her a look that was somewhere between amused and exasperated. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, kid.”

Ellie smirked, flipping through the pages of the book again. “Oh, I’m not done. I’ve got more where that came from.”

“God help us,” Joel said under his breath, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face.

I leaned back, my hands stretched out toward the fire, watching the two of them. “You know,” I said, grinning, “I think it’s impressive she’s been carrying that book all this way. Priorities.”

Ellie nodded vigorously, pointing at me. “Exactly! See, y/n gets it. I’m spreading joy in the apocalypse. That’s a valuable service.”

Joel snorted. “Sure. That’s what it is.”

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him before turning to me. “Okay, y/n, this one’s for you: Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?”

I thought for a second, but before I could even guess, she blurted out, “Because it was two tired!”

Her laughter was contagious, and I found myself laughing right along with her. Even Joel let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe this was his life now.

“Two tired,” I repeated, grinning. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Thank you!” Ellie said, pretending to tip an invisible hat. “I’ll be here all week. Or, you know, as long as it takes us to get to Jackson.”

Joel let out a long sigh, but there was no missing the warmth in his expression as he looked at her. “You’re somethin’ else, kid.”

Ellie beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Damn right I am.”

And in that moment, as the fire crackled and Ellie started flipping through her book for another gem, I couldn’t help but think that even in a world like this, there was still room for laughter. And that was worth holding onto.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth flickering in the cool night air. Ellie was asleep, her body curled up tightly in her sleeping bag, breathing steady and slow. Joel sat across from me, his figure dark against the firelight, eyes distant as usual. There was a heaviness in the air, a silence that weighed on both of us.

I’d been toying with whether or not to tell him, but after today, I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. It was something Joel needed to know, something that would either ease his mind or make the road ahead even harder.

“Joel,” I said softly, not wanting to disturb Ellie’s sleep.

His head turned slightly, his eyes catching mine in the dim firelight. He didn’t say anything, just waited for me to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about Jackson,” I began, feeling the weight of the words before they even left my mouth. “And… there’s something you need to know.”

Joel gave a slight nod, signaling me to go on. I hesitated for a moment, gathering the courage.

“Tommy’s there,” I said, keeping my voice low but steady.

The moment the words left my lips, I saw the shift in him. His face didn’t betray much, but his posture stiffened. He didn’t react right away, though I could feel the tension building in his body. His jaw tightened, and for a long beat, he was silent, staring into the fire.

I let the words settle in the air. I could see him thinking, piecing together the years of separation, the anger, the hurt.

“You didn’t know, did you?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, the weight of his past with Tommy hanging between us. “No,” he said, his voice rough, like the realization had hit him harder than he expected. “I thought… I thought he was dead.”

I swallowed, knowing how much those words meant. Joel had carried the guilt of losing Tommy for so long, thinking the worst, even when he didn’t want to believe it. I hadn’t expected the reaction I got—gratitude in his eyes, mixed with that edge of disbelief.

“Tommy’s alive, Joel,” I repeated, my voice softer now. “And he’s at Jackson. He’s been there, rebuilding, trying to make a life. I thought you should know.”

For a long moment, Joel didn’t speak. He just stared at the fire, his brow furrowed, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes.

Finally, he exhaled a long, steady breath, as if the news had knocked the wind out of him. “I thought… I thought I’d lost him for good,” he said, almost to himself.

His words trailed off, but the gratefulness in his voice was clear, almost as if he’d been holding onto the idea of Tommy being gone as a way to shield himself from hope. It had been easier to live with the belief that Tommy was lost than to think he might have been alive all this time, somewhere out there.

I watched him carefully, feeling the rawness of the moment between us. “Maybe he’s been waiting for you,” I said quietly, not wanting to push, but knowing the door was now open. “Maybe he’s been hoping you’d find your way back to him.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, his face unreadable. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the past catching up with him.

I could see the turmoil in him, the complex mix of emotions he’d buried deep for so long.“You don’t have to decide anything now. But I wanted you to know.”

Joel finally looked up at me, the hardness in his eyes softened by something else—relief, maybe. Or maybe just the shock of knowing his brother wasn’t lost to him after all.

“‘preciate you tellin’ me,” he said quietly, his voice rough with something I couldn’t quite name.

There was a silence, thick with all the things left unsaid. Joel turned back to the fire, but this time, I didn’t sense the same tension in him. The news had cracked something open, a small window of possibility where before there had only been despair.

And as the night stretched on, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the first step in bringing Joel and Tommy back together—or if the past would remain an insurmountable wall between them. But one thing was clear: the hope he’d long buried was alive again.

The snow crunched softly beneath our boots as we trekked through the wilderness on the way to Jackson. The cold bit at my nose and cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Joel and Ellie’s banter ahead of me.

Joel led the way, his rifle slung over one shoulder, his other hand gesturing as he explained something to Ellie. She hung onto his every word as usual, peppering him with questions about the terrain and wildlife.

“Do you think we’ll see any bears?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Nope,” Joel replied gruffly. “Too cold for ‘em right now. They’re holed up for the winter.”

Ellie groaned in disappointment. “Lame. What about wolves?”

“Let’s hope not,” Joel muttered, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “You don’t wanna see wolves, trust me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ellie grumbled, kicking at a chunk of ice. “I think wolves are badass.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I brought up the rear. Ellie’s energy was infectious, even if Joel often acted like he was too old to keep up.

We rounded a bend in the trail, and that’s when we saw it.

An elk.

It stood in the middle of the clearing, its tall, proud antlers stark against the white of the snow-covered forest. Its coat gleamed in the weak winter sunlight, steam rising from its breath as it exhaled into the cold air.

Ellie gasped audibly, her mouth falling open. “Whoa. No way.”

Joel stopped in his tracks, holding out an arm to keep her from running ahead. “Stay still,” he warned softly.

Ellie ignored him completely, taking a careful step forward. “Oh my god, it’s huge. It’s so cool.”

The elk’s ears twitched, swiveling toward us, and for a moment, I thought it might bolt. But instead, it let out a low, guttural bugle—a deep sound that echoed through the trees.

Ellie froze, her eyes going even wider. “Did you hear that? Holy shit, it talked to us!”

Joel chuckled under his breath, his shoulders relaxing as he watched her excitement. “That’s not talkin’, kid. Just elk bein’ elk.”

But Ellie wasn’t listening. She took another step forward, her hands lifted slightly as if to beckon the creature closer. “Hey, buddy,” she said in a soft, awestruck voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re cool, I promise.”

The elk snorted, its breath visible in the cold air, and then—with a graceful bound—it leapt into the trees, disappearing from sight.

Ellie whirled around to face us, practically vibrating with excitement. “Did you see that? That was the most amazing thing ever! Did you hear it? That noise was insane!”

Joel shook his head, but there was a small, fond smile on his face. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’m serious! That was so badass!” She turned to me, her grin so big it lit up her entire face. “Y/n, tell me you got how cool that was.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I adjusted my pack. “I got it, Ellie. You’re right—it was pretty incredible.”

Ellie groaned dramatically. “Pretty incredible? That thing was, like, majestic as hell.”

We started walking again, Ellie skipping along beside us as she reenacted the elk’s bugle. Joel shook his head at her impression, and I felt a warm glow in my chest as I watched them together.

The world outside was cold, dangerous, and unforgiving, but moments like this reminded me why we kept going. For Ellie’s wonder. For Joel’s quiet, steady presence. For the strange, beautiful family we’d become.

The cold cut deep as we trudged through the snow, the wind howling like it wanted to drive us into the ground. My leg throbbed with every step, the makeshift bandage Joel had wrapped around it holding tight but doing little to ease the pain. I wasn’t about to complain, though. Not after they saved me from those raiders.

Ellie walked beside me, her steps crunching in the snow as she glanced over. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked for the third time since we started walking.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice was tight. The truth was, I wasn’t fine. But what mattered was getting all of us somewhere safe, and Jackson was the only place I could think of.

Joel walked ahead, his rifle slung low but ready, his eyes scanning the horizon. Always the same—guarded and alert, like danger was lurking just around every corner. In this world, it usually was.

I’d agreed to help them get to Jackson. It was the least I could do after everything they’d done for me. And Jackson? It was my home now. A place that, for all its faults, still stood strong in a broken world.

“Not much farther now,” I said, though the storm had made it hard to tell. “If we keep moving, we’ll make it before dark.”

Ellie gave a tired nod, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Good, ‘cause I don’t think my toes are gonna make it.”

Joel glanced back at her, his expression softening for just a moment. “You’ll be fine. Just keep moving.”

We’d just crested a small hill when the sound of horses cut through the wind. My heart leapt into my throat as I turned to see them—figures on horseback emerging from the blinding snow, their weapons drawn.

“Joel,” I hissed, grabbing his arm.

He saw them too, his posture tensing as he stepped in front of Ellie and raised his rifle. “Stay behind me,” he muttered, his voice low and firm.

The riders spread out, circling us. There were at least six of them, their horses pawing at the snow as the riders aimed shotguns and rifles in our direction. My stomach churned as I recognized one of the voices calling out through the storm.

“Drop your weapons!” Maria shouted, her voice carrying over the wind.

“Maria!” I called back, stepping forward despite Joel’s arm shooting out to stop me. “It’s me—y/n!”

The tension in the air crackled like static. For a moment, no one moved. Then Maria urged her horse forward, squinting through the snow until recognition crossed her face.

“Y/n?” she said, lowering her shotgun slightly. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, relief flooding through me. “But these two—” I motioned to Joel and Ellie, who were still frozen in place. “They’re with me. They saved my life.”

Maria’s gaze shifted to Joel, her eyes narrowing. “That him?”

I blinked, confused, until realization dawned. Of course, Tommy must’ve mentioned Joel before.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “It’s him. And this is Ellie. They’re just passing through. Please, Maria, lower the guns.”

Maria hesitated, her gaze flicking between me, Joel, and Ellie. Then she gave a sharp whistle, and the other riders lowered their weapons.

“Alright,” she said, her tone cautious but less hostile. “Let’s get back to Jackson. You look like hell.”

I almost laughed. “You have no idea.”

The ride back was quiet, the tension between Joel and Maria palpable. Ellie, for once, didn’t say much, her gaze fixed on the snowy landscape as we made our way through the storm.

When the gates of Jackson finally came into view, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The sight of the sturdy walls, the faint glow of firelight beyond—it was the first time in a long while that I felt like things might actually be okay.

The gates of Jackson creaked open as the group rode in, the heavy snowfall outside muffled by the sturdy wooden walls of the settlement. Inside, the warmth of fires and the sound of distant chatter greeted us. It was like stepping into another world—one where life hadn’t completely crumbled. The bustling streets, people moving with purpose, children playing—it was overwhelming after days of cold, silence, and death.

Joel dismounted his horse slowly, his eyes scanning the settlement as if it were a mirage. His rifle hung loosely on his shoulder, his posture stiff, as if he wasn’t quite ready to believe this place was real. Ellie stuck close to him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the sight of people—families—living normal lives, or as close to normal as you could get these days.

Maria swung off her horse, handing the reins to a stablehand. “Y/n, go with Ethan and get checked out. You’re in no condition to be walking around on that leg,” she said, but her gaze flicked to Joel.

Then Tommy appeared.

Tommy was working on some construction, the sound of hammering and the distant clatter of tools filling the air. As we walked closer, I could see a few men working, their backs turned to us as they focused on their tasks. The moment I saw Tommy, though, my breath caught in my throat.

He was hard at work, his back bent as he nailed some boards into place, completely unaware of our approach. I could feel the tension rising in Joel beside me, the anticipation thick in the air.

And then, without warning, Joel’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and commanding:

“Tommy!”

The sound of his name cut through the air like a crack of thunder. The men working nearby stopped what they were doing, and for a brief moment, it felt like the entire world went still.

Tommy froze, his back still to us, and I watched as his shoulders stiffened. He slowly turned, his eyes scanning the area, before they landed on Joel. His face went slack for a moment—an unreadable mix of disbelief, relief, and confusion. The moment seemed to stretch on, as though neither of them quite believed what was happening.

Then, Tommy blinked, and before I knew it, he was striding across the ground, closing the distance between them. He didn’t say a word at first, just reached Joel in two quick strides and pulled him into a tight, almost desperate hug.

The sound of it—the weight of all that lost time between them—was deafening. The hard lines in Joel’s face softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep breath, like something inside him had been released. They stood there for a moment, holding onto each other like nothing else mattered.

Tommy pulled back first, his hand gripping Joel’s arm, his voice gruff as he spoke, almost too soft for me to hear. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Joel looked at him, his eyes full of that familiar pain but also something else—something deeper. “Thought you were dead, Tommy.”

Tommy’s face softened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the brotherly bond they once shared. “Guess I got a bit tired of waitin’ around, but I’m here now, Joel.”

The silence between them spoke louder than any words could. It wasn’t just a reunion—it was a reckoning. Years of pain, of choices that had torn them apart, now coming to a head.

They pulled back, Tommy’s hands gripping Joel’s shoulders as he looked him over, his eyes scanning every line, every scar. “You look like hell,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice wavered.

Joel gave a faint huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… it’s been a long road.”

Tommy’s gaze shifted, landing on Ellie, who was standing just behind Joel, watching the reunion with quiet curiosity. “And this must be…?”

“Yeah,” Joel said, stepping slightly to the side so Ellie could step forward. “This is Ellie.”

Ellie gave a small wave, clearly unsure of what to say. “Uh, hi.”

Tommy chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, any friend of Joel’s is welcome here.”

For the first time in a long time, the weight Joel carried seemed to ease, if only slightly. It wasn’t just Jackson that felt like a safe haven—it was the connection, the bond that hadn’t been broken, even after all this time.

And for a moment, it felt like the world wasn’t so heavy after all.

Joel walked slowly down the stairs, the creaking of the wooden steps the only sound in the quiet house. The dim light of the living room pooled on the floor, where I sat curled up on the couch, my eyes fixed on him as he approached. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the weight of everything that had just transpired. His steps faltered slightly, the heaviness of the fight with Ellie still weighing on him.

I didn’t say anything at first, just watched him with an unreadable expression, the flickering light casting shadows across her face. He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion in his bones. The world felt quieter in moments like this, like it was holding its breath.

“You really think that’s the answer, huh?” I said, my tone biting but not cruel.

Joel didn’t meet my gaze right away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He huffed out a bitter laugh, the kind that wasn’t funny at all. “Don’t start with me. You don’t know the half of it.”

“Don’t I?” I finally spun around to face him, my voice rising with the heat of my anger. “You think I haven’t been watching this slow-motion train wreck of yours? You think I don’t know what you’re doing—pushing her away before she can leave you?”

His face darkened, the shadows casting sharp lines across his features. “This ain’t about me and Ellie. Don’t twist it. This is about you always thinkin’ you know better.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” I stepped closer, my hands trembling with fury. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the only one who’s been hurt. You let me leave, Joel! You stood there and let me walk out of Boston like I was nothing to you. You never even tried to stop me.”

His silence hit harder than his words ever could. I saw his throat work, his jaw tightening as he stared at me like he was trying to break me down with his gaze alone.

“You wanted to leave,” he finally said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Beg? You made your choice.”

“Because you didn’t give me a reason to stay!” My voice cracked, the words laced with all the pain I’d kept buried for far too long. “Do you know what it was like, leaving behind everything—leaving you—because I thought I wasn’t enough? That I’d never be enough for you?”

The firelight flickered in his eyes, and for the first time, I saw it—the guilt, the regret. He took a step closer, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken words.

“Y/n…” He said my name like it hurt to say it. “I thought I was doin’ right by you. You deserved better than what I could give you. Still do.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as tears threatened to spill. “You’re such a goddamn coward, Joel. Always thinking you know what’s best for everyone else. You don’t get to decide what I deserve. You don’t get to—”

But before I could finish, he closed the distance between us in one sudden, desperate motion. His hands came up to cup my face, rough palms trembling against my skin. His breath was warm, ragged as it ghosted over my lips.

“I ain’t a coward,” he murmured, his voice raw.

I opened my mouth to argue, to push him away like I had every right to, but the words caught in my throat. His eyes burned into mine, and in that moment, everything else—the fight, the years of distance, the pain—faded into nothing.

He kissed me like a man starved, like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. My hands found their way to his chest, gripping the worn fabric of his flannel as I kissed him back with all the anger and longing I’d been too afraid to admit.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was years of unspoken feelings, of missed chances and buried love, all colliding in one explosive moment.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard. His hands lingered on my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “For Boston. For everything.”

I closed my eyes, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Me too,” I whispered back, my voice trembling.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing and the crackle of the fire. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel so alone.

[overadores]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁kills for love ౨ৎ daniela avanzini

cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ghostface!daniela x reader ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 headcanons!

.ᐟ cw: jealous!dani, obsession, injuries, violence, bullying, killing.

who gives a fuck about movies?!

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who you instantly clicked with when you two became roomates. the quirky, horror-obsessed girl who’s always in her element when showing you the latest slasher films. she’s a mix of sweet and chaotic, constantly pulling you into late-night horror movie marathons where you're both snuggled in bed.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who secretly enjoys the attention as you watch her cheer practice every day.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who insists on walking you to class and back to your dorm, shadowing you from a distance, always ensuring no one dares to bother you. she watches with a cold, unwavering gaze as people try to flirt or bully, silently making them back off with her presence.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who always find excuses to walk back to the dorm together, savoring the quiet moments where she can flirt and tease you.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: stands quietly behind you at the checkout, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. the cashier, a little too bold, tries to flirt with you as he scans your snacks. you smile awkwardly, but Daniela’s intense gaze never wavers. the cashier falters, suddenly aware of the tension, and awkwardly shifts his attention to the register.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: after the movie marathon, you drift off to sleep, unaware of Daniela’s mischievous plans. she waits until you’re deep in slumber, then quietly slips into her Ghostface outfit. with a smirk, she sneaks out, stalking the cashier who had flirted with you earlier. fueled by jealousy, she watches him, then silently kills him, her possessiveness turning deadly. she returns, slipping back into bed, satisfied and with a twisted grin on her face.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who let's you wear her hoodies so that her perfume would linger on you.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who loves to match everything with you–clothes, bags, shoes, and even jewellery–people already thinks you two are dating and that's what Daniela wants them to think.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: where at the Halloween party, both of you rocked your couples costume, her as a sinister witch and you as her enchanted victim. she let you mingle, enjoying the night with friends, but her watchful eyes never strayed far. when a jock, clearly too bold, tried pulling you towards the stairs, her instincts kicked in. without hesitation, she pushed through the crowd, her fist connecting with his jaw. he stumbled back, startled—Daniela’s protective glare sending a clear message: no one touches you.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who watched from the shadows as the jock taunted you at the Halloween party. she followed him home, slipping into his life unnoticed. one by one, she took everything he loved—his friends, his safety—until only him remained. In his final moments, she whispered, “You’ll never touch her again,” before killing him.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who sat on the cold bathroom floor, blood seeping through trembling fingers. you froze at the sight—pain flickering in her eyes. "It’s nothing," she rasped. ignoring her protests, you stitched her up, hands shaking. as you worked, her gaze softened.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who always pulls you close when you try to leave bed, wrapping her arms tightly around you and whispering just stay in bed and ditch classes.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: saw you take a flower from another girl, something dark stirred within her. jealousy consumed her, a quiet rage flickering behind her calm facade. She couldn't stand the thought of anyone else having your attention—you were hers.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who couldn’t stand the sight of someone else claiming your attention. that girl dared to give you a flower—so she paid her a visit. sneaking into her dorm, she watched the girl sleep before pressing a blade to her throat. a final, whispered warning: “You should’ve stayed away.” blood spilled, and she returned to you, satisfied.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: when you heard about the killer on campus, desperate for comfort. Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, her voice soft but reassuring. "I’m here to protect you," she whispered. You felt safe, unaware of the dark truth. As she held you close, a glint of something dangerous flashed in her eyes—something you didn't notice in the chaos. The killer had already been standing right in front of you, disguised as the one you trusted most.

a/n: and another one. i might post some headcanons for the rest of the members (lara or megan might be next).

[etfrin]

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ worries — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, creampie, cum eating, blowjob, orgasm control, overstimulation, loss of virginity (m.), handjob, mutual masterbation (each other) if you squint, riding, spit play, breath play, reader has fem! anatomy, mentions of blood & blood sucking (from a lip bite)| lmk if I forgot anything

☆　Pairing: afab/gn! soft dom(-ish)! Reader x sub(-ish)! virgin! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: uhm, you take Snows' virginity <3

☆　A/N: first time writing gn reader, please be respectful and tell me if anything's wrong, but don't be mean about it and i finally wrote reader spitting in Coryos' mouth and it should be a regular thing, look AT him ugh, a meal fr, wanna eat him, suck off all of his cu- i should stop...

Ps. The one who requested this to be gn, i hope you like this and i did it justice, if there's anything wrong (like accidentally refering to the reader as fem) then please let me knw :)

| masterlist | taglist |

“You've never done this before?” You questioned as you entered his room. All cold and dusty stone with a bed on the corner. The bed in which you plan to do unspeakable things with him.

“No, he said, “Will that be a-” You shake your head as you see his wide blue eyes waiting for rejection. He hated that he brought you here. He hated that you saw him. Him. Not Coriolanus Snow from the academy but Coryo who tries and tries but gets fucked over anyway.

After finding out that the District 12 girl was his, he wanted to protest, he was being set up to fail. You saw him for he is, his mind filled with worries, endless thoughts running around making him unable to breathe. He felt invalid and he needed you to do something about it.

And as you notice him among the crowd, seduce him with your eyes and whisper your desires to him. He brings you to the penthouse, trying to control the urge to apologize as you have to walk 12 cases of stairs.

You knew his secret like the dean did but you didn't do anything about it except for the meals and clothes sent to him anonymously during the coldest nights of Panem but he didn't know that.

You walked towards him, pinning him to the door of his room with a gentle thud. “You don't have to worry about anything, princess,” you whispered to him, your eyes filled with lust and your lips twisted in a teasing smile. You run your finger over his sharp jaw, taking joy when a soft gasp comes from him. His breathing is getting faster and the blood rushing from his cock and his head turning empty from your simple touch.

You were going to have some fun with this boy. You're going to make him yours. Make him forget and help him through everything as his now serrah. Even if it means rigging the games so he would win. It's your job to care for him now and you're a perfectionist.

The first task, let the wide-eyed man feel pleasure in someone's touch for the first time. You tsk in dissatisfaction as your fingers feel his bony chest. He needs to eat, he needs to be pampered. ‘I'll have to fix that’, you thought as you pressed your lips on his collarbone. He lets out a breath, his body heating up from the kisses you plant on his chest. Your tongue teasing his nipple causes him to whimper and you earn a broken moan when your teeth decide to nip the bud.

You suck his nipple, savoring the gasp he makes and how his fingers wove into your hair. “Please. Please more,” he groans and who are you to deny him? You couldn't say no to his pretty face even if you didn't want to. So you get down on your knees, pushing your face into his crotch and you swear you could smell the heady scent of his pre-cum soaking through his trousers. You moan, deciding to tease him as you use your teeth to pull down his zipper. You'll never know the will it took for Coriolanus not to cum right then and there.

You take down his trousers, the line of his hard cock clear in his boxes, a wet spot of his pre-cum formed where the tip is. You decided not to tease him words but with actions, your tongue licks the wetness, letting your saliva sweep into the fabric along with his salty pre. He groans above you, a thud echoing into this room as the back of his head hits the door.

You set his cock free from its confines, your mouth watering as you look at the pink tip forming a bead of pearly white pre-cum. The tip of your tongue catches it and the pleasure (or torture) of Coriolanus Snow begins.

You start simply, teasingly as your lips trail sloppy wet kisses all over his length. Your tongue traces along the pretty veins of his cock, your lips reaching his base and mouthing his cock causing him to let out a needy whine and a plea of more, more and more. You repeat the process until you catch his cockhead inside of the carven of your warm, wet mouth. Another broken groan leaves his mouth as he sees your lips stretch around his mushroom tip.

The fingers of his curled in your hair tightens and as a warning you make your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs causing him to his and immediately loosen his grip on you. An apology falls from his lips, his eyes glossing over as he feels his dick getting wet. Your mouth begins to suck his tip. Your tongue savors the bitterness of him as you swirl your tongue around his slit, lapping up as much as possible.

Meanwhile, Snow was biting his lower lip as hard as possible, the blood pooling in his mouth as he tried to keep much of his sound quiet for the sake of others who might be home. His mind was blank, all he could think was how pretty you looked on your knees like this, how you took control despite the one kneeling. You didn't even take all of him, sucking his cockhead diligently but the rest of his cock was left out. He was glad that did so because he knew he couldn't take the hot, wet mouth of yours all over his cock without cumming on the spot.

He could feel himself venture too close to spilling inside of your mouth, he let his free hand venture down to the path and he gripped the base of his cock trying to ruin his upending orgasm.

You take your mouth off him, making him let out a desperate whimper as he feels his dick out of your warm carven. You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling utterly amused by how adorable he is. You kiss his tip. “Trying to last longer, baby?” You questioned with a teasing tilt in your voice.

“I don't want to” Snow can't admit the fact he doesn't want to cum so soon, it's embarrassing so he says it in different terms, “I want this to last.” His eyes were now fully blown with lust, his curls clinging to his forehead and his cheeks painted red with pleasure.

“Hmm,” you hum, standing up trying to ignore the slight ache of your knees. You take his hand, guiding the boy to bed before pushing him on the mattress. You straddle him, his shirt was long forgotten on the floor along with the rest of his clothes. It was your turn now and you quickly did the same. Coryo lets out a needy soft noise as your skin is exposed to his eyes, his fingers skimming along the curves of your body. “Can I?” He asked, his eyes begging for your agreement.

“Yes, Coryo. You can,” you permit him and you nearly let out a wanton moan as the heat of his fingertips sweeps into your skin, warming you up as his hands experimentally begin to knead your breasts. His fingers squeeze your nipples making you softly moan near his ear. “That's it, baby. Make me feel good.” You whispered to him, “A bit rougher- ah- ah- there you go. That's a good boy.”

His hips jolt forward when you praise him and a whine escapes from the back of his throat. “Please,” he lets out, “Let me feel you. I will be good, I promise.” You gaze wonders at his angry red tip and you decide not to play with him any further for the moment. You kiss his forehead for a moment of vulnerability in all of this tension. “Okay, my prince,” you whispered as you kissed his lips next, letting your tongues meet in a rather filthy and sloppy kiss as you let him guide you to your back on the mattress.

His hand traces down and gets a hold of your hips, his fingers squeezing the flesh a tad too hard but it felt so good and the fact he would leave marks didn't bother you. Your fingers wove into his blonde strands, bringing him down to catch his lips in an open mouth kiss. As your other hand is on his shoulder, his body pressed onto yours and you moan into his mouth as you feel his comforting weight on top of you. His dick twitched against your thigh, leaking pre-cum onto your skin.

You take in his bleeding bottom lip in your mouth and suck on it, enjoying the tang of the metallic taste on his tongue as he clumsily begins to press his cockhead into your soaking cunt. You were so focused on Coriolanus that you had forgotten about your aching cunt begging to be stretched with his cock.

If it hadn't felt so good when his cock slid right in because of how wet you were, you would have been embarrassed. You bite into his lower lip, trying to adjust to the burn of being stretched by his thick cock. If you weren't so impatient, you would have taught Coryo how to prep you first but that's for another day.

Coryo feels your teeth sinking into his bottom lip and a wanton, surprised moan leaves his mouth, his balls emptying and thick spurts of his cum flood into your pussy. You cry out as you feel his cock cumming against your pulsating walls. He buried his head onto your shoulder as he gasped his apology. As much as frustration filled your mind, you knew that you had to be gentle with your plaything.

You run your fingers through his hair, comforting him. “It's fine,” you whispered, your lips placing soft kisses on his shoulder. “But I don't want it to be over,” he admitted, shyness and desperation filling in his tone. “It doesn't have to be,” you replied as you squeeze your walls around his softening cock. A wicked smile plays on your lips, as you whisper, “It isn't over until I say so.”

He nods, willing to agree with whatever you say. You pushed him off you, getting yourself on top of him as his soft cock fully slips out of your pussy, leaving the entrance pushing out of his cum. Your fingers gather his seed and you pop your digits into your mouth, your tongue lapping up his taste off your fingertips. His dick twitches from the sight, coming back to life as Coryo lets out a whine while he looks at you sucking your fingers so good with your mouth hollow.

You take his length in your hand, fingers surrounding the girth in a perfect fist. He hissed when you squeezed and began to stroke him slowly. Trying your best not to overwhelm him and failing miserably because tears were pooling in his eyes, his lips were parted to leave wounded, pretty sounds. His fingers curled on the bed sheets as you stroke his cock back to life.

You lean to press another kiss to the tip, your eyes peering at his teary ones. “You sure?” You asked, you had to pat his cheek for an answer because all that left his mouth as you questioned was a whimper.

“Do you want to continue, Coryo?” You asked, in the softest tone possible. Your mind is ready to cuddle him for aftercare and draw a shower. But instead, he shakes his head, “Don't please- I need this.”

“Okay, I won't,” you whispered back, your lips pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, and then let the kisses trail until you reach his neck where his pulse is. Your mouth begins to suck as you continue to stroke his length, your fist now covered with his drooling pre-cum, a bit more watery than before.

Your free hand goes to your cunt, your fingers rubbing your clit to feel some relief from your aching pussy. Coriolanus notices that and can't help but feel bad. His fingers wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements, a silent question in his eyes and you removed your hand in answer.

A giddiness could be seen in Coryos as he explores your cunt for the first time. You get into a position where it is easier for you both to play with each other. He spreads your pussy lips, his eyes taking in your glistening cunt (with your juices and his cum). He swipes at your folds, gathering the wetness all over his digits, and you encourage him to take the digits in his mouth, and of course, he agrees.

He will do anything to get his head empty and his body to be jelly. So he takes his fingers in his mouth, letting his tongue lick every remnant of your juices and his bitter cum. He groans, his eyes getting cross stared and his cock begins to throb dangerously in your end. He was close to the edge again by such a simple thing.

‘Cute’ you thought, but you don't want him to cum again without getting something in return. So you stopped the strokes, ignoring his confusion, and pleas for more. Instead, you guide yourself on his cock again, your eyes flashing to him with a warning that despite the gentleness you had shown, you could be cruel too.

Yet when you sink on his cock, you make sure to hold his hand, fingers intertwined for comfort. You murmur endless praises to him.

“That's a good boy.” “Look at you filling me up so well.” “Ah- fuck, baby. Your cock is stretching me out perfectly.”

Each praise made his cock throb against your pulsating walls. This time he didn't cum immediately, but the jolt of electricity that went through his veins when both of your pelvis bones were touching, now joined to the hilt felt like he did. You take the hand you were holding and kiss the inside of your wrist with butterfly kisses.

These simple actions of yours were overwhelming to him. No one had cared for him so delicately like he was glass. It meant everything to him and a rush of emotions caused tears to begin to flow from his eyes.

You chalked his crying to overstimulation and leaned forward to kiss his eyelids. “It's okay,” you whispered against his ear, “It's okay, Coryo.” You let out a soft moan as you begin to move your hips. Slow and shallow thrusts. You hear him groan too, his hand squeezing yours. His free hand on your ass, groping the flesh.

“That's a good boy,” you whispered when you began to speed up your rocking hips making Coriolanus gasp. “You're doing so well, my dear,” you praised him. You moan as your hips find the perfect angle to hit the spongy spot in your gummy walls.

You begin to ride Coryo in earnest. His cock stroked the deepest part of your slick walls with each thrust. It makes you see stars with each breath you take. It was perfect and you made sure that Snow knew that with your hushed praises. Meanwhile, Coriolanus wasn't better off either with molten lava in his body, his mind now blank with how good getting dick wet felt.

He never understood the hype about sex but now he was addicted. He was sure he was going to need you like air, like a puppy going for a pet to its owner for comfort. He was going to need you after this, again and again.

He was close, wanting to cum again, he could feel how wet your walls were and wondered if it was your juices or his own that contributed to it the most. He was close so he voiced that. “I am-” he closed his eyes, feeling the burn of embarrassment, “Close.”

You hum in response, stopping your movements to catch a much-needed breath. “You're not allowed to cum until I say so, pretty boy,” you said with authority, “I let it go the first time, now I expect you to behave.” You add, “You'll cum with my permission or else. . .” You smirk, “You're a smart boy, Coryo. You wouldn't like punishment, would you?”

Coriolanus shakes his head, he sniffs and you find it adorable how his nose scrunches up that it makes you smile at him. “I will be good, I promise,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please.”

You give him a nod. You leaned down to kiss his lips, both of your tongues tangling together into something soft. Your hand leaves the grip it had on his hand to wrap itself around his neck. He moans inside your mouth as you put a bit of pressure onto his neck, not restricting his breathing but certainly making him light-headed. It worked as a good distraction.

Your free hand goes between your bodies and you find your clit. Your fingers begin to play with the bud. Small circles send jolts of pleasure to your core, making your cunt tighten around his dick. It made his hip snap back into yours, a deep groan resounding in the room as his hips began to thrust into you. Just small movements of sheer desperation of wanting to cum.

You were feeling the same, desperation clawing your body as the tension keeps building and building each time his cockhead grazes your g-spot. You were so close and everything turned sloppy.

Two animals in heat it seemed with how the two of you were acting. Your fingers pinch your clit as you begin to rock on his cock faster than ever, deep groans leaving Coryo's lips and his hands holding onto your hips to ground him as he takes whatever you give.

He was pussy drunk, his eyes glazed over and mouth drooling on the corners. You were pathetic enough to lick the saliva, holding his jaw open as you gathered your spit inside your mouth and then you let the goop of drool fall onto his tongue.

You thought for a moment this would snap him out from his fucked out glaze, except he swallowed it without a word, his hips stuttering in the pace and he mutters, his lips glistening, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” And god, that ruined you.

Your cunt begins to spasm around his cock, flexing walls around his length causing him to cry out for permission to let go and you yell out a yes. Liquidy spurts of cum begin to shoot out of his tip and inside your womb. Both of you let out a moan as the thrusts begin to slow down and cease.

As soon as you catch your breath and your body feels solidified, you caress his cheek. “Would you like to cuddle, baby?”

The answer to that was a breathless yes.

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[rafeyssugar]

Hellooo good morning 😋 so this might be bordering on too specific but you got deaf!Maybank!reader who's a relative of JJs. She came to visit and while she's out and about with JJ and maybe one or two of the other pogues Rafe shows up and decides to start something and tries to start in on the reader but she was never good at lip reading so she can't even follow along with what he's saying

Readers scared and confused so JJ tells her to go on ahead and he had to explain to Rafe that she's deaf and he has one of those super rare "oh shit, maybe I was an asshole" moments and either later in the day or on a different day he tries to find reader (with a notepad and a pencil this time since he can't sign) to apologize :>

lost in translation

the outer banks was as chaotic as ever, but you had learned to navigate it well enough. visiting your cousin jj meant reckless adventures, late-night bonfires, and getting dragged into whatever trouble the pogues had brewing that week.

you didn’t mind. even if keeping up with everyone’s fast-paced conversations was impossible, jj had always been good at making sure you weren’t left out. he was your bridge to a world that often moved too fast, too loud, too unpredictably for you to follow.

but jj wasn’t perfect.

so when rafe cameron showed up, all sharp smirks and bad intentions, you knew this was about to go south.

you caught the way jj tensed beside you, the way pope sighed like this was just another headache they had to deal with. kie looked about ready to step in, but rafe had already zeroed in on jj, spitting out something that—judging by the clench of jj’s jaw—wasn’t exactly friendly.

you tried to keep up, watching rafe’s mouth move, but he was talking too fast, too aggressively. you caught jj’s name. something about pogues. something about money.

but then rafe’s focus shifted to you.

your stomach twisted as his eyes flicked over you, assessing, judging, before his lips moved again. he was speaking directly to you now, waiting for some kind of reaction, but you had no idea what he was saying.

you glanced at jj, confusion clear on your face. jj’s expression darkened.

“go ahead, y/n,” he signed quickly. “i got this.”

he didn’t have to tell you twice. you turned on your heel, heart pounding as you put distance between yourself and whatever was about to go down. you weren’t scared of rafe—not really. but being caught in a confrontation you couldn’t even understand? that was something else entirely.

behind you, jj sighed, running a hand down his face. “dude, she’s deaf.”

rafe blinked. “what?”

“she can’t hear you, man.”

rafe’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. for once, he actually seemed... thrown.

later that day, or maybe the next, you were sitting by the docks, enjoying the quiet when someone sat down next to you.

you turned, expecting jj, but your stomach flipped when you saw him.

rafe.

but this time, he wasn’t smirking. wasn’t radiating that usual arrogance. instead, he pulled a notepad from his pocket, flipping to a page where he had scrawled something in messy, uneven letters.

"i didn’t know. i was being an asshole. sorry."

you blinked, staring at the words. then at him. he looked—nervous? maybe even a little embarrassed?

hesitantly, he flipped to a new page.

"can i make it up to you?"

your lips twitched. you reached for the notepad, flipping to a blank page before writing:

"depends. are you always this bad at apologizing?"

when rafe huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, you realized you might’ve just found the one thing rarer than a sincere rafe cameron apology—

—rafe cameron trying.

lowkkk wanna do a part 2

[theemporium]

[5k] neither of you considered the possibility of your family and friends finding out about your relationship. however, in a series of events, they discover you and quinn are together. but it's fine as long as luke doesn't find out, right?

part one // series masterlist

.

When the season started, you thought it would be easier to hide your relationship from everyone you knew. Never once did either you or Quinn expect to be caught. 

And never once did you think the first person to learn about you and Quinn would be Trevor fucking Zegras of all people.

Before the semester had even started, it had been an unspoken agreement between you and Quinn that you would fly out during reading week. It would be difficult to avoid questions—mostly from Luke who would be offended you weren’t going to fly out to New Jersey—but it was doable. It just took a few weeks of you dropping hints and clues about flying out to Canada to your best friend for him to not really question it when you said you were going to visit your brother. 

And after months away, it was a fucking dream to have this week with Quinn, to settle that uneasiness in your chest that had been lingering since you left the lakehouse that summer. 

You both knew the hockey schedule was insane. You knew neither of you could really leave his apartment. But with a string of games at home for the week, it seemed worth having that week together. 

You didn’t think anything could go wrong.

“What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?”

Your fingers paused the random shapes they were tracing on his bare chest, moving to lift your head to find him already staring at you with a fond look. 

“You. Us. This. Everything.” You listed off, your lips twitching upwards when he rolled his eyes. “What? You asked and I answered.” 

“I think you’re holding out on me,” Quinn retorted, his hand squeezing where it rested on your hip. “Wanna share what things you were thinking about? More specifically, those thoughts about us.” 

You snorted. “Get your head out of the gutter, Hughes.” 

“Maybe you need to get your head down there,” he countered and, before a witty response could even pass your lips, he had flipped you both over until you were laying on your back with him looming over you. “It’s fun down here, I think you’d like it.” 

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed as his fingers traced up and down your bare thigh, a small grin on his face when he felt your body shiver in response. “Gave me a few ideas too.” 

You swallowed harshly as you noted the dark glint in his eyes, the way your stomach twisted in desire as his fingers kept moving upwards. “Like what?” 

Quinn’s smirk widened a little. “Like—” 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling as though your body had been doused in cold water as you sat up a little. “Were you expecting someone?” 

Quinn frowned, sitting up himself as he tried not to show his clear annoyance at the interruption. “No, I told the boys to call me if they needed me outside of practice. I don’t know who that could be—” 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

“You should probably go get that,” you murmured, trying to bite back your smile as Quinn grumbled something under his breath. 

“If it’s any of the boys, I’m making them do bag skates at practice,” he huffed, crawling out of the sheets and reaching for an abandoned pair of sweatpants on the floor before he left the bedroom. 

He could feel his annoyance brittle when the person knocked for a third time, this time hitting the door over and over again until Quinn reached for the handle and yanked the door open. 

The last person he expected to see was Trevor Zegras on the other side, grinning at him like it was a totally normal thing for him to be on Quinn’s doorstep on a random Tuesday. 

“There’s my favourite Hughes!” 

Quinn blinked once. And then twice. And then a third time just to make sure he was actually standing there. 

“What the fuck, Zegras?” 

“I wanted to surprise you! We didn’t have anything on before the game on Thursday so I thought I’d head up a day earlier than the others and—” Trevor paused, seeming to catch on to the way the older boy was glaring at him. “Geez, this wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“I—” Quinn took a deep breath. “And what reaction were you expecting?” 

“At least a hug, I mean—” Trevor moved to take a step forward, his arms open like he was going to reach to hug the other boy, only to pause. It was like he was finally taking in Quinn’s attire for the first time—or the lack thereof—before his eyes focused on the blossoming bruises along his neck and collarbone. 

It was scary the way the grin spread across his face.

Quinn frowned. “What? Why are you doing that with your face?”

“You got a girl in here, Huggy?” Trevor grinned, not even giving Quinn a chance to react before he was pushing his way into the flat. “Aw shit, Jack never told me you were seeing someone! Is it new? What’s her name? Is it a dude? Listen, I don’t judge! I’ve seen the edits with you and Pettersson.” 

Quinn blinked. “I—what?”

He was still standing in shock, trying to process the words that just left Trevor’s lips before he realised the boy was walking deeper into his flat. His eyes widened, his brain shutting out whatever random rambling that was coming out of Trevor’s mouth as he tried to reach out to stop the boy—but it was useless. 

It was like the whole world froze when Trevor shoved the bedroom door open. His words came to an abrupt stop, his jaw hanging open as he looked at you sprawled on Quinn’s bed with a sheet covering your clearly-otherwise naked body. He looked at your face, then back to Quinn before they settled on you again.

“YOU’RE BANGING LADY HUGHES?!”

Quinn winced. “Why do you have to say it like that?” 

“I…oh my god…you…WHAT?” Trevor spluttered out, looking between the two of you like you were aliens to him. “How long has this been going on? Why the fuck did no one tell me? What the fuck?”

“Well, we can’t tell you something nobody else knows,” you supplied with a sheepish expression.

His eyes widened further. “Nobody else knows? Like at all?” 

You shook your head.

His face instantly brightened. “So I’m the first?” 

“Not by choice,” Quinn grumbled under his breath.

“You can’t tell anyone, Trev,” you said, a pleading look on your face. “Especially not Luke. We are gonna tell him…just not yet. You cannot tell a soul, not even Jack.” 

“I won’t. Scout’s promise.” 

Quinn glared at him. “Were you even a boy scout?” 

“No, why do you ask?” 

“I—” Quinn just shook his head. “Can you just…wait outside whilst we get dressed?”

“Aw, I knew you’d be happy I was here, Huggy,” Trevor beamed, patting the older boy’s cheek before he bounced out of the room, most likely helping himself to whatever was in Quinn’s fridge. 

Quinn turned to you, looking exasperated but you just grinned. 

“Guess that’s one less person we have to worry about hiding from?” 

He just sighed deeply in response. 

…

Trevor ended up keeping his word, not telling a soul. Though, he did go out of his way to bug you and Quinn—mostly Quinn—about your relationship.

You would have thought the situation with Trevor would have prompted the two of you to be more careful. You thought it would have been your lesson learnt that not even the season being fully underway would be distracting enough for you to be as laid back as you were. You thought it was the small reality check you needed. 

As it would turn out, it wasn’t even two weeks later when the next slip up happened. 

It was a stupid, drunken promise that led you to the Hughes’ family home in Ann Arbor, bright and early on a Saturday. When the boys had revealed to you that all three batches of the cookies they had meant to make for a charity sale the university were holding had burnt to a crisp because all of them were incapable of baking, you had offered up your amateur baking skills to make a few batches. 

You were drunk and emotionally compromised and it was really hard to say no to the pleading eyes of Ethan Edwards.

However, with your kitchen barely being big enough to hold two people, Ellen had kindly offered her kitchen for you to use. Plus, she had been wanting to catch up with you since the semester had started, especially considering it was the longest time you and Luke had been apart.

It was somewhere in between the second and third batch when your phone started ringing on the counter. 

“Hey Ellen, could you grab that for me?” You called out over your shoulder, your hands preoccupied in rolling small balls of cookie dough to place on the tray. “Just answer it and put it on speaker.”

There was a beat of hesitation. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, just place it down on the counter beside me,” you said offhandedly, frowning at the batch of cookies as Ellen pressed the little green button and let the ringing stop.

You were elbow deep in a bowl of batter when a familiar voice echoed through the Hughes’ kitchen. 

“Hey babe, quick question: did you say you were coming up for Christmas break or not?” 

The whole room fell silent as you looked over your shoulder, finding Ellen already staring at you. She had an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching upwards in a smile that was a little mischievous—it reminded you so much of Jack. You dared a glance at the doorway where Jim stood, eyebrows raised in surprise but something quite happy in his expression. 

“Uh, can I call you back? I just have to…deal with something real quick.”

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, just…” You trailed off again, your cheeks burning as Ellen and Jim stared at you. “I’ll call back in ten minutes when I’m finished with these cookies, okay?” 

“Okay, miss you.” 

“Miss you too.”

The sound of the call cutting sounded through the kitchen and none of you said anything for a few seconds. And much to your surprise, it was Jim who spoke first. 

“God dammit, kid, you cost me twenty bucks!”

You blinked. “Huh?” 

Ellen smiled fondly, taking a few steps until she was beside you. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze, something knowing in her gaze. “I always knew you’d end up with one of my boys. Jim was just convinced it would be Jack.” 

Jim huffed. “I bet your parents twenty bucks each.” 

Your eyes widened. “My parents?” 

“We aren’t blind, kid,” Jim retorted, something soft and fond in his voice. 

Ellen snorted. “Clearly you are since you thought it would be Jack.” 

“I—” You started but you weren’t even sure what to say.

Ellen turned back to you, smiling like the whole conversation was normal. “I always knew it would be Quinn. I saw the way he looked at you, even when you were young.”

Your brows furrowed. “Quinn barely liked me when we were kids.”

And Ellen just laughed like that was the funniest thing you could have said. It wasn’t exactly the way you wanted either of your parents—Quinn’s and your own—to find out about your relationship. 

But, unlike Trevor, Ellen and Jim understood the unspoken rule and just how…complicated the situation was, despite Ellen’s insistence that her eldest son had been crushing on you for a lot longer than you believed. 

Nobody tell Luke.

…

It was your fault for leaving the room.

When you had enrolled in Michigan, there was a small part of you that was worried college would be the thing to tear you and Luke apart. In retrospect, it was a stupid thought to have. But you were young and scared and entering this unknown era of your life, and you just wanted to cling onto what you knew, what you were used to—onto Luke.

You realised pretty early on that the thought was stupid when the hockey team had practically adopted you. You were an extension of Luke, but it never felt like that. They were your friends as much as they were Luke’s, and you found yourself fond of these boys who had wiggled their way into your heart. 

Knowing you still had them despite Luke being in New Jersey made coming back alone so much easier. 

However, the life of a D1 athlete was an intense one, along with the fact classes were getting harder and assignments were getting longer. But the boys had practically demanded you come over at least once a week so you didn’t ‘forget who your new best friends are’, as they so kindly liked to say over and over again. Mostly just to annoy Luke.

It was one of those nights. You had made your way to their house after your last class, faceplanting down onto the couch until the group of you had decided on ordering pizza. You had some random comedy movie running on in the background, just senseless noise to accompany whatever random debates Ethan had managed to drag up. It was nice and easy and relaxing, and made you feel a little more sane in what was turning out to be a gruelling year. 

You were in the middle of showing Rutger a random video Jack had sent you of Luke decking it on the ice during practice when the doorbell rang. 

“I’ll get it,” you told them without missing a beat, leaving your phone in their hands as you collected the pizzas from the delivery man. 

What you weren’t expecting was to come back and find all of them staring at you with creepy matching grins on their faces.

You froze, eyeing them suspiciously. “What? What happened?” 

“You are a sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Rutger spoke up, looking far too smug over something you were still in the dark over. 

You glanced between them before your eyes settled on Rutger again, your confusion clear on your face. 

Rutger continued, “when were you gonna tell us you have a boyfriend?” 

Your body froze. “I don’t know what—”

“And when the fuck were you gonna tell us it’s Quinn Hughes?” Mark jumped in, turning your phone around to show a picture you and Quinn had taken during your last visit. 

He had taken the photo in an elevator mirror, your back to the camera as you wrapped yourself around the boy. But he was grinning, so big and unbothered and it was one of your favourite sights. It was one of your favourite photos of him. 

And it certainly wasn’t the photo you left them with.

“Did you go through my phone?” You finally managed to blurt out when words found you again. But the damage was done and you knew there wasn’t much you could do considering the last time they were aware, you barely spoke to the oldest Hughes brother.

“I can’t believe you kept this from us!” Ethan huffed out, shaking his head like he was genuinely offended. He probably was. He tended to be the more dramatic one. 

“I can’t believe Luke allowed this,” Mark snorted. 

You flashed them a sheepish smile. 

“Oh, dude,” Rutger murmured with a shake of his head.

“You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone.” You shifted in your spot, something a little desperate and pleading in your voice, and it was enough for the boys to sober up a bit. Become a little more serious. “We didn’t wanna tell anyone yet and I just…”

“We won’t tell a soul,” Mark reassured you, a soft smile on his face that eased some of the anxiety in your chest.

“As long as you tell us everything,” Ethan added, a knowing smirk on his face. “And I mean everything because how the fuck does any of the Hughes brothers have game?”

And you couldn’t help but snort in response.

…

Jack didn’t accidentally find out more than he put it together. 

It wasn’t often that the Devils and the Canucks met during the season but when they did, it was a family affair. You had decided to join the Hughes parents on their trip up to Vancouver, each of you wearing your hybrid Canucks/Devils jerseys that Ellen had custom made for these occasions. 

The game itself went by as you expected. There was a lot of media coverage on the ‘Hughes Bowl’, meaning each of the boys had been dragged into interview after interview before the game. It was a good game, a clean one too. You tried not to wince too much when the final buzzer blared through the arena and it was a Devils win. 

You knew Quinn would be a little gutted, even if he wouldn’t fully show it in front of his family.

The group of you had decided to head out to one of the Canucks’ favourite bars, something that Luke had whined a little about considering Ellen and Jim insisted they join. But it was wholesome and sweet and made you crave the summer weeks a little more than the current early January weather.

You were settled at the bar, laughing at Jack’s attempt to catch the bartender’s attention to order another round of shots he had dragged you into doing when you felt the warmth of another body settle beside you. For a short moment, you smiled thinking that maybe Quinn had snuck away from whatever conversation he had been stuck in with Petey and Jim. But when you turned your head, you found a stranger standing beside you. 

“Hey gorgeous,” he smiled, and something instantly unsettled deep within your chest.

“Hi,” you replied, short and blunt as you tried to shift away but there wasn’t much space by the crowded bar.

“Hey, where are you going? I just wanted to chat,” he said with an easy smile on his face, his hand resting on your elbow and you instantly jerked away from his hold. 

“I’m not interested,” you answered.

He laughed and the sound grated on your nerves. “That’s a bit presumptuous that I wanted something, sweetheart. Think you’re all that, huh?” 

“Just leave me alone,” you said as you took a step back. A part of you wanted to turn your head and try to catch Jack’s attention, try to ask for help. Another part of you didn’t want to look away from this man. You didn’t trust him.

He huffed out a chuckle. “Don’t be like that—”

“She said no. Fuck off now.” 

A mix of relief and surprise washed over you when you felt a body settle behind you, and you didn’t need to turn your head to know it was Quinn standing behind you, but you still did just to settle the tightness in your chest. 

His face was set in a blank expression, but you recognised it well enough. When he got angry—truly angry—he didn’t have a frown on his face or a crease between his brows. His face just looked…blank. Like he was so lost in his own rage that no expression could really encapsulate how he felt. 

You rarely saw it. He rarely showed this side of him.

His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as his eyes never left the stranger’s. He tilted his head to the side when the man opened his mouth again, and that seemed enough to shut him up again. 

“Go.” 

The man decided to do the smart thing and scuttle into the crowd of people, disappearing with a blink of an eye until neither you nor Quinn could see him. But even with him gone, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your chest.

A second passed before Quinn moved, now standing in front of you with your face in his hands as he tore your gaze away from the crowd to look at him instead. His brows were furrowed together in concern, his lips turned downwards as he glanced over you to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, you with me?” He murmured, his voice soft and comforting and you clung onto it.

“Mhm,” you nodded, flashing him a shaky smile. 

His frown deepened. “Don’t lie to me—”

“I’m not,” you told him honestly, your hands fisting the material of his shirt like you were scared he was going to step away. “I just…you make me feel better.” 

His face softened and the last of his resolve went out the window as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close until you were pressed into his chest. You nuzzled your face against his sweater, letting the familiar smell of his cologne wash over you and calm the last of your nerves. 

And when you opened your eyes, you found Jack standing a few feet away from you. Quinn hadn’t noticed he was there and Jack made no move to announce his presence. But he gave you this smile, one that was kind and knowing and felt like a stamp of approval you didn’t know you wanted or needed from the middle Hughes brother. 

But Jack smiled at the sight of you and his older brother, raising his shot glass like a promise to keep your secret and knocking it back without a moment of hesitation.

…

You had no plans on telling Luke about you and Quinn the night it actually ended up happening. 

There was a mutual agreement between you both that you couldn’t keep it from Luke any longer. It wasn’t fair on him to be left in the dark, it wasn’t fair on you two having to sneak around and it wasn’t fair on the people who already knew having to keep your secret.

And with the normal season coming to an end, it felt like a clock was running against you to tell your best friend you were dating his brother before you were all locked in the lakehouse for the summer together.

When you had imagined the moment in your head, it was the three of you. You would sit Luke down, explain your feelings and hope that he wouldn’t feel too betrayed. You imagined he would say something stupid like ‘yeah, I already know, losers’ and you could live your lives happily ever after.

It was probably never going to happen like that, but you certainly didn’t expect it to happen like this.

After a rough season and a streak of rough games for Luke in particular, the news of the Devils’ head coach stepping down felt inevitable and, truthfully, it was a relief when you saw the news come through. Luke had called you, far too smug and giddy for someone whose team was technically without a key member—but you guessed it was mostly second-hand from the other boys. 

You swore you could hear Jack and Nico talking about popping open a bottle of champagne in the background when he called. 

It felt like an unspoken agreement for you to fly out when Luke told you about a huge party they were throwing that weekend. Not for the recent retirement, obviously. If anyone asked, it was a simple bonding experience for the boys to motivate them through the last leg of the season.

And somewhere between the beer pong game Luke dragged you into and the really strong margarita Simon made you, you had snuck off into a small bathroom to call the one person your drunk self craved to see.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You grinned at the sight of your boyfriend’s face on your screen, his hair tucked under a beanie as he walked around his apartment. “Hey, baby.”

He took in your flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, snorting a little. “Having fun?” 

“So much fun,” you giggled before letting out a heavy sigh. “I wish you were here.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, like he was counting the days. He probably was. You knew you were too. “Spring break, remember?” 

“Hmm, I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” you mused, sinking back against the wall of the bath you were currently leaning on. “I’m sick of sharing my boyfriend with Petey.” 

Quinn laughed. “I thought you loved Petey.” 

You sighed deeply. “I do love that big, blond Swede.” 

He shook his head in amusement. “I’ll let him know. I’m sure he loves you too.”

You perked up a little. “Really?”

“Really, baby.” 

“Woah,” you breathed out, your eyes falling shut as you leaned against the cool ceramic of the bathtub. “I know I said it before…but I really wish you were here.”

Quinn’s face softened. “Me too, babe. Me too.” 

You opened your mouth to say something, probably some random drunken thought that you felt the insistent need to share with your boyfriend before knocking on the bathroom door interrupted you. 

You froze when you heard Luke calling your name on the other side. 

Quinn frowned at the way your face paled a little. “Baby, what’s happened? Who is it?” 

You heard shuffling on the other side before Luke’s muffled voice sounded through the door. “Are you talking to Quinn?”

You could have hung up. You could have told him you were talking to someone else entirely. You could have done a million and one other things that made more sense. However, for some fucking reason, your drunk brain panicked. 

“I don’t know a Quinn!” 

Quinn furrowed his brows in confusion.

There was a pause on the other side of the door before Luke tested the handle, finding the door unlocked. He let himself in, standing by the entrance as he stared down at you curled up beside the bathtub with a frown.

“Why are you hiding in here? I need another beer pong partner and Holtz sucks so—”

And because the universe liked to fuck with you, it seemed like there was some sort of lag on Quinn’s side because his voice was echoing through the small bathroom before you could even warn him about Luke’s presence.

“Baby, what’s happening? You’re starting to scare me.” 

Your eyes widened as silence suffocated the small room. You looked at Quinn before looking at Luke, who was looking at your phone with a mixed expression. 

“Did…did he just call you baby?” 

“No?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Why are you on the phone to Quinn? And why are you hiding in the bathroom? And since when do you talk to Quinn?” 

You flashed him a sheepish smile. “Since we’ve been dating,”

Luke blinked before he snorted. “No, I’m being serious.” 

You swallowed. “So am I.”

Luke let out another laugh, but this one was a little less convincing. “I…no, you’re messing with me. Jack put you both up to this, right?” 

You stayed silent. 

“Right?” Luke asked again, a little more desperate.

Your eyes shifted down to Quinn—the lag thankfully gone—before you looked back up at Luke with a nervous expression. You shifted so your phone screen was now facing him, watching as his eyes dropped down to his brother’s face. 

“We wanted to tell you—”

“You,” Luke sneered, his eyes narrowed. “You have been planning this.” 

You blinked. “Huh?” 

“He’s been planning this!” Luke said with such confidence, though that might have been the mix of rum and tequila talking. “He’s been planning this since the sour patch kids!”

Quinn shot his brother a look. “You think I’ve been planning to date your best friend since you were seven?” 

“Yes.” 

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know Quinn was rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

“How long has this been going on?” 

“A while.” 

“That’s not an answer,” Luke frowned before looking at you.

“Since last summer,” you whispered.

“Summer?!” Luke spluttered. “You two have been dating for eight months and no one knew?” 

You winced.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Who knows?” 

“Just Trevor,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. 

He deflated, blinking. “Oh, well I guess—” 

“And your parents and my parents and Ethan and Rutger and Mark and Jack,” you blurted out quickly, your cheeks heating up as Luke stared at you like he didn’t know you.

“So everyone but me?” 

“Luke—”

“Everyone but me knows?” 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

“This is just a bad dream,” Luke murmured to himself before nodding his head, a little more confidently. “No, yes. This is a bad dream influenced by Nemo’s shitty bartending skills. A bad dream where my older brother is stealing my best friend. It isn’t real at all.” 

You blinked. “Luke—”

“Just need to play out the rest of the bad dream and I’ll wake up,” he continued muttering away as he reached for the door handle, ready to leave the small, cramped bathroom. “Just a bad dream.” 

“Luke—” 

But he was already gone before you could say anything.

“Well, he’s gonna have a brutal reality check in the morning.” 

You turned your phone to glare at your boyfriend. Though, much to your surprise, he was grinning in response. 

“Quinn, this is serious.” 

“Baby, I know.” His face seemed to soften a little, but the smile remained. “But now he knows. This is what we wanted. And now we don’t have to hide.” 

Your annoyance melted away at his revelation, a warmth settling in your chest that only Quinn seemed to bring. “Stop being cute.” 

“I’m being realistic, baby. Now you can come up any time you want.”

You snorted. “I still have classes.”

“I’ll find a way around those too. You can’t stop me, baby, gonna tell the whole world how much I love you.”

Your face softened with a smile. “I love you too.” 

Quinn’s smile mirrored yours. “Now go make sure my brother doesn’t do something stupid whilst he thinks he’s in a dream. Mum will kill me if his face is plastered on a tabloid in the morning.”

“Pretty sure Jack will go out of his way to make sure that happens.”

“Please don’t let it happen.” 

You gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.” 

He shook his head with a fond expression. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Okay. Bye, I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

“And I love Petey.”

Quinn snorted. “Yeah, I love him too. Get in line.”

.

[clockwayswrites]

A bitty bit and a poll... cw: post canon typical violence, blood, offer of smuttiness ship: Danny/Jason

“Danny.”

“Hood,” Danny said, pushing his hair back as he turned Jason’s way. His thumb ran over the shaved side of his head. A streak of blood trailed behind by the motion.

“What did they want?” Jason asked. He kicked at the side of one of the groaning thugs for emphasis as he strode over to Danny.

Danny just shrugged. “The usual.”

“Not supposed to be the usual in my territory,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, well,” Danny said with that crooked grin of his. There was something all the more feral about the grin that night between the blood and the way the harsh magenta neon that adorned the outside of Danny’s shop broke through the light rain. “I’m in that grey zone; not in one place or the other.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re my mechanic so you’re my territory.”

Danny’s grin widened and he had the audacity to wink. “Kinky.”

“What did I say about shutting up?” Jason asked as he started to look Danny over for injuries.

Danny pliantly, and almost with amusement, let Jason check him over. When Jason found a cut on the other’s arm, he huffed, tossed the bloodied tire iron Danny was holding away, and started to roll up the sleeve of the black over shirt.

“It’s fine Hood, it’s nothing,” Danny said as he peered around Jason.

Without letting go of Danny’s arm, Jason pulled out a gun and twisted enough to point it at the thug who was helping the one Jason had kicked off the ground.

“This street is off limits.”

“Ain’t Crime Alley!” the one said, spitting blood. “Old Gotham is—”

“Right over there. This street? It’s mine,” Jason said. He cocked his gun for emphasis.

“It ain’t—”

“It ain’t worth dying over! Leave it!” the other thug hissed and tried to pull them away. “If fucking Red Hood says it’s his then it’s his! Now come on.”

“Make sure you take the rest with you,” Jason ordered. He kept his gun trained on them until they were long out of sight.

“Do I still have to shut up?” Danny asked cheekily into the silence. “Because I can think of some fun ways for you to make me.”

Jason turned slowly to look at Danny. “What.”

It wasn’t exactly a question. Jason knew what Danny was implying, but what?

Danny just shrugged, still with that smile. “Can’t a man thank his knight in leather armor? I mean, totally feel free to turn me down. I’m not going to pressure someone into that sort of thing, but I figured it didn’t hurt to offer. You seem like you’re a little tense—”

As if they weren’t just in a fight.

“—and could use the release. I’m not going to pretend that I would mind being between those thighs. So what do you say, wanna let me blow you?”

Danny might as well have hit Jason with that tire iron for how his thoughts scrambled at that offer. Who the fuck did that? Danny had no reason to. Jason already made clear that Danny was under his protection. Jason had also been ramping up the amount of work he gave to Danny versus handling himself. It wasn’t like the guy needed to offer sexual favors.

Jason shook his head, as if that would clear his confusion. “Next time or something. I’ve got work.”

“Sure, wouldn’t want to keep you,” Danny said and took a step back.

“Wrap that arm.”

“What arm?”

“Danny.”

Danny laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets as he backed up into his shop. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wrap it. Go out there and take on the big bad night, hero.”

“I’m not a fucking hero,” Jason called after him. “And lock your damn door!”

Danny gave a cheeky salute before disappearing into the shop.

Brat.

---

AN: NOW, you all know by now, I'm sure, that I love playing around with how balanced Danny is as a half and his hair color and things like that. This is the new idea I was whining about earlier. It's going to be about as pwp as I'm able to get and supposedly a one shot. Danny is very, very forward, Jason is very, very confused (and later very, very satisfied). So all that said...

[lingeriae]

DEEP

synopsis - being fuck buddies with geto suguru has got to be one of the worst(best) decision you have ever made, especially since you have feelings for said man. ( inspired by deep by summerwalker)

warnings! - cursing, smut, use of n-word, fwb to lovers-ish, angst, fluff, happy ending (or it there?).

parings - geto suguru x black! reader

You try not to make eye-contact with the male infront of you, his arms crossed over his chest as he slouched spreading out his long legs infront of him. From the eyes glaring into your skull, you could tell he was staring at you and he couldn't care less if anyone noticed how hard he was staring.

He looked good, and you had no doubt he smelled good either although you hadn't been all up on him to know if that was true or not.

But Suguru always smelled good, you knew that and you'd bet that bitch who was rubbing all up on him knew it too. She had on a neon-green tube top, with a black leather mini-skirt to match it, her sliver nose stud glistened under the lights as you watched her move closer to your man-

'huh?'

You immediately ended your train of thoughts there, deciding to get up and find yourself a drink because of how delusional you sounded.

"Ima go get me something to drink," you tapped Shoko on her shoulder before getting up, leaning up to whisper in her ears so she could hear, "be right back."

She nodded, turning back to a blushing Utahime which made you giggle knowing Shoko was defininetly gonna hit that tonight. As you walked you pulled down the shorts that was riding up your ass, sucking your teeth as it just rode back up.You finally made your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to look for something strong that would make you forget the thoughts you had from earlier.

Bending over to open the draw at the bottom, the feeling of someone coming up an pressing into your ass causing you to gasp and stand up straight, your plump lips immediately set to cuss out the bitchass who thought that was a bright idea. Turning around, you immediately sucked your teeth at the person looking back at you,

"I know your mama taught you better than that." you said, turning back to the fridge to grab the beer you wanted and trying not to make the warmth from the male behind you cloud your judgement. Suguru grinned, his eyes creasing around the corners and his smile lines appeared causing you to clear your throat at the warmth that spread inside of you unexpectedly.

"And I know I taught you better than to ignore me." he replied, grin still on his face as he looked down at you watching how you fiddled with the top of your beer nervously and twisted your glossed lips. Something he noticed you always did while being confronted. You rolled your neck, and Geto mentally prepared himself for the attitude you were about to give him, placing his hands inside the pocket of his sweatpants as he watched you fold your arms as if to intimidate him.

The thought made his lips tilt up for a spilt second,

"Well, im sorry ian wanna interupt you and your little 'friend'."

Suguru paused at your comment, tilting his head to the side his eyes narrowing at you. "If your jealous, say that."

You almost broke your neck because of how fast you looked up at him, your eye twitching as you repeated the word jealous over and over in your head. Sucking your teeth you looked Geto up and down, “Jealous for what? Please don’t get ridiculous right now Geto.

You took a sip of the beer before mumbling under your breath. “It’s not like im with your bitch ass anyway”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you immediately regreted it. A sinking feeling appeared in your stomach as you prayed he didn't hear what you said only to curse under your breath at his response.

"Oh, word?" you didn't know what made your face heat up, the tone of his voice, how close he was to you, or the look in his eyes. Sun-kissed skin almost feeling like it was turning red because of how hot it was getting, and you subtly tried to press your thighs togther as you kept eye-contact with the black haired man, biting your plump lips at the expression on his face.

Suguru leaned in closer, his hair that was out of it's usual bun brushing causing the strands to brush against your cheeks, his lips so close to touching yours. He placed one hand on the counter behind you, while the other moved to push you up against him, his hands feeling up your ass as he had you right were he wanted you.

"You're being so bratty, but don't worry i'll fix that shit soon enough." and just like that he backed away from you, checking you out before turning and walking away leaving you with your chest heaving and your thighs pressed tightly together as a ache started to form between your legs.

For the rest of the night you were anxious, wondering what Suguru was going to do and making sure to constantly dodge him for the rest of the night, and it was working, mostly.

"Hey guys, m'gonna head out now I got things to do in the morning and I be damned if I wake up with a headache." you said, waving goodbye to everyone as you walked out of the house preparing to call an uber.

An arm wrapped itself around your waist, briging you into a firm chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" you tensed, not looking behind you as you tried to keep your straight as you swiped through instagram.

"Im going home Geto."

Suguru licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest vibrating as he laughed before grabbing your hand leading you towards his car.

"W-what the fuck? bro, let me go. Geto im not playin with you right now, let me go." you struggled against his grip, feeling as his hands tightened around your wrist but not tight enough to hurt you.

He opened the door waiting for you to get in while you stood there staring at him with your arms crossed and your plump lips turned down into a scowl. Sighing, Suguru rubbed the bridge of his nose becoming irritated with your behaviour.

"Get in the car, Y/n."

"Fuck you."

"Later, baby." he flashed you a grin before his face got stern again, "Now get in the car, before I haul your pretty ass in myself." you stared at him for a good minute before sucking your teeth and rolling your eyes, moving inside of his car with a huff as you sat down. Smiling the male closed the door beore jogging around to his side of the car.

The car was silent as Suguru droved you home, you stared out the window refusing to look or talk to him while he drove with his hand place firmly on your thigh, herefused to move it even after your attempts at pushing it off, and the other one on the wheel. He sighed as he stopped at a traffic light, turning to look at you who stubbornly refused to look at him.

"Wanna tell me what the fuck I did?" He said, rubbing circles in your thighs you turned to look him up and down, "Nothing."

Suguru sucked his teeth, glaring at you. You could see he was becoming fustrated with you, which made you even more upset because how dare he.

"If it's not nothing why the fuck are you acting like this?" Turning to face him more you returned his glare, your eyes begining to water as you look at him. "Why the fuck you care so much? You aint care when you was with that bitch declining my calls."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his chest hurting as he saw how hard you were trying to hold back your tears. "What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n?" You kissed your teeth at him, shaking your head. "Ion even wanna talk to you right now."

"Nah, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Forcing yoursel to laugh, you turned yourself back around no longer facing him. "I just find it funny how you feeding me all this fake shit, just to be up in other bitches faces. Having me calling you just for you to be up in some randoms pussy and having me look like a clown."

The car got silent as Suguru looked at you, waiting for you to show any sign that you were joking. He sighed opening his mouth to answer you only for a car horn to interupt him making him realize the traffic light had turned green again. As you reached to your house you were immediately out of the car, slamming the door as you got out and trying to walk fast so that the male behind you couldn't catch up.

You stopped halfway as he grabbed your wrist, refusing to turn towards him so that he could see the tears in your eyes.

"I don't know what somebody said to you, but baby, I promise that the only pussy I been in is yours and all this shit im feeding is not fake."

Sniffing you turn towards him, unlocking your phone before shoving it in his face. "How you gon explain this then?" He took the phone from your hand, staring down at it with a crease in his eyebrow. Shaking his head SUgur looked back up at you, "Mama this picture is old, where did you get this?"

"Some bitch sent it to me on instagram, thought I should know what you get up to when you tell me your busy." You say, sass evident inyour body language. "How I know your not lying?"

"I can't prove im not lying you just gotta trust me on this," he releases your wrist to hold unto your waist, bringing you closer to him only to be stopped by you bringing your palms to his chest.

"What about you declining my calls?" you feel your core heat up because of the way the way Suguru was looking at you. Eyes low lidded and a little glossy, roaming your figure ever chance he got his held unto your wrist as you lay your palms against his chest feeling how fast his heart was beating from your touch alone, he licked his lips as he noticed your eyes on him before the turned up into a lazy grin. "My phone was dead because I forgot to charge it. You would've know that if you didn't block me."

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarassment, allowing Geto to bring your wrists up to his lips placing a kiss on them, before drawing you in closer by your hips. His kissed the side of your neck causing you to grip his shirt, without having his touch for several days you were now weakened by it no longer touch-starved because of his lack of touvh. Suguru drageed his lips against the side of your neck, smirking at how sensitive you were, he brought his lips to your ears and you suddenly felt hot all over at his next words.

"You were being so mean at that party tonight, think you should make it up to me, don't you?"

"W-wait! Sugu-aah!"

The brutal thrust that the man behind you were giving could almost be desrcibed as animalistic. The grip he had on your hips never letting up as the other forced you to keep your arch.

"Wait on what baby? You keep my pussy away from me, and what me to wait? taah must be fucking crazy."

"m'sorry, s-swear jus-fuck! hold on!" Geto yanked you back into him, a squeal leaving your lips at the feeling, "Where you going, baby? Thought the dick wasn't that good? Why you runnin from it?"

"m-m'sorry da! i am-i am! mmm, best dick I ever had I swear!"

A grin stretched across Suguru's face at your words, giving your plump brown ass a smack before giving you a thrust that definetly hit the spot, "I know baby, just needed this dick to fuck some sense into you." Nodding your head in agreement, you repeated the male's name over and over mesmorized by how good he was making you feel.

"Keep on forgettin that t's your dick, and your's alone. Just like this pussy is mine." He brought his hand to rub at your clit, a whine falling from your lips as you held his hand,

"y-yeah, it's your's a-all your's papa."

There was no use begging for him to take it slow, only to submit to his brutually fast a deep strokes. Your hands are now held above your head because of you trying to get him to slow down but to know avail.

you fucked yourself back on him, listening to the groan he let out and feeling how he tightened his grip on your hair before pushing your face down against the pillow, watching how his cock drilled in and out of you in a fluid motion the sight almost making him dizzy. As he felt himself about to cum he turned you over, wanting to see your face.

He watched how your titties bounced up with each thrust, then to your face and how it was screwed up due to pleasure a little drool passing your lips as you out moans, telling Suguru how good he's fucking you and not to stop.

You came first, and Geto followed right after placing a kiss on your lips as he pulled out. "Suguru, I love you."

He froze up, looking down at you through his hair, which you had pulled out of the makeshift ponytail he put up. A smile soon took over his face as he kissed you again, humming against your lips.

"I love you too."

[artydonsgf]

Hey love💕 could u do an arthusband! fic??

hi sweets! i’m in the process of writing husband art but i didn’t wanna keep you waiting so i wrote out a headcanon list! i also included a small nsfw portion for my own delusional giggles, enjoy~

Art Donaldson as your Husband

- when yall start dating, it’s apparent that you’re his first real girlfriend

- he’s fooled around with people before but the eagerness of his kisses and how quickly your touch sends him over the edge makes it clear it was never serious

- you like it though, it’s cute how embarrassed he gets when you stare at him and call him handsome

- amazing bf, top tier communicator

- you discover early one that art does not play about you so he really tries his best to avoid any arguments that aren’t constructive

- extremely gooey and tells you that he wants to marry you in the future like a week into your relationship

- despite how good of a communicator he is, he also gets in his head very easily

- constantly worried that he’s somehow not enough for you and you’ll find someone better

- these worries die down pretty quickly but it sits in the back of his mind sometimes

- said i love you first and he said it after 6 months

- he later told you that he knew after a month but didn’t want to scare you away

- after a year of dating, he gives you a promise ring and swears that he’ll propose to you the moment you guys graduate

- two years in, you guys move in together

- six months later and true to his word, he gives you his grandmother’s ring while you’re both still in your caps and gowns

- the wedding happens quickly since neither of you wanted something big

- your wedding day is the best day of his life, something he tells you a million times throughout the day

- he cried like a baby when you walked down the aisle

- in all of your wedding photos, he’s looking at you like you are the center of the universe

- art settles into married life with ease

- in his mind, you guys have already been married since the moment you agreed to be his girlfriend

- sharing a last name with you is the best thing ever in his mind

- sometimes he’ll call you mrs donaldson just to hear you respond to it

- laughs into his hand when you respond but you already realized what he was doing forever ago

- a true romantic

- leaves flowers and other cute trinkets at your bedside table when he comes home from traveling for games

- he’ll be dead asleep beside you but you’ll always find a small bouquet, breakfast, and a souvenir from whatever town he passed through

- constantly thinks about you

- facetime warrior, he will call you at any time just to hear your voice

- if he’s lucky and you’re able to come with him to games, he spends any spare time curled up in your arms and ask you to just speak

- loves it when you run a hand through his hair, he’ll twist himself into an uncomfortable position if it means you’ll keep scratching his head

- the annoying guy who mentions his wife at any given moment

- “ah yes, my WIFE, also enjoys hiking”

- his idea of a date is dinner and cuddling the whole night

- seems to forget that he can kiss you whenever because he always asks if he can kiss you

- needs you like he needs air, bro is insane about you

- patrick knew about you before he even met you because art spoke about the beautiful girl with the kind eyes and sweet smile for a month before he actually asked you out

- bro was yearning like crazy

- his biggest issue is his jealousy

- starts plotting murder whenever a man speaks to you for too long

- or woman, he’s equal opportunity jealous

- ofc he doesn’t have to worry because you’re always quick to flash your ring and name drop him as your husband in convos

- he’s a very good husband who loves you an insane amount and makes sure to communicate that to you 24/7

NSFW

- legit will do anything you ask of him, so he’s very into experimenting

- your pleasure > his every time

- he enjoys oral but doesn’t really ask for it since he’d prefer to give

- submissive by nature and is happy to let you take charge

- only really dominant after a particularly tough day on the courts

- aftercare KING, he’ll get you cleaned up in two seconds flat so he can keep you in his arms for the rest of the night

- very needy in bed, he wants your constant attention

- total praise kink, he can hardly breathe when you tell him he’s doing a good job

- he had to learn how to control his pace because he used to come immediately

- despite his quickness at finishing, he has insane stamina and will keep you up the whole night

- it’s always you >>> any of his obligations

- more times than you can count, you’ve had to pry him off of you because he had important things to do the next day

- loves quickies

- likes it when you pull his hair

[taesanrot]

[found you] sungchan x f!reader | 0.7k words fluff, a little angst but not really, brother's best friend!sungchan, mutual pining, college au kinda... note. reader is eunseok's younger sister and a sophomore not sure if that was too clear. hope u guys enjoy! one two three

you crossed your arms loosely and began the short walk to your apartment. checking your phone, you see a couple texts from your friends, asking how your dinner date had gone. you sighed.

sungmin was sweet; he was cute and respectful and he should’ve been everything you wanted. but somehow, you felt nothing with him. your friends, the same ones who had set the two of you up, convinced you to give it time, but after your second date you ended things, smiling at him softly and telling him you didn’t think it would be a great idea for the two of you to keep seeing each other. he almost begged you to let him walk you home; it was starting to get dark. but you honestly just wanted to get away from him and stop rubbing salt on the wound. so here you were, walking to your campus apartment in a comfortable silence, staring at the ground and filing through your own thoughts. 

that silence didn’t last too long as you heard someone call your name confusedly. “y/n?” 

you looked up and squinted, barely registering the tall figure that had called out to you. they jogged towards you and you sighed in relief as your eyes focused on the mystery figure's face. jung sungchan. 3rd year student also attending your uni. your brother’s best friend and roommate. and unfortunately, the reason you even went out tonight. he was the person you wished so desperately that your heart would forget. 

“hi sungchan.” you managed a weak smile. you could barely look him in the eyes, you face felt like it was on fire every time you looked at him. you felt your pulse jump as he looked you up and down, eyeing your outfit. “going somewhere?” he tried his best to fake surprise. he already knew exactly what your plans were — eunseok had mentioned it earlier that day. 

“y/n’s seeing that guy again.” eunseok rolled his eyes after checking his phone. he didn’t understand why you were suddenly going on dates. "i thought he was boring?" seunghan, their third roommate replied, looking up from his cereal.  

sungchan walked past the two boys and opened the fridge, grabbing a protein shake. he turned and leant against the countertop, twisting the cap of his drink open. “huh? what guy?.” sungchan tried to sound as unbothered as possible. he wasn't doing a great job at it. eunseok raised an eyebrow at the taller boy. seunghan bit back a laugh.

“some senior yunjin set her up with. park sungmin…. you know him?” eunseok smirked, pretending not to notice the way sungchan’s jaw tightened slightly. "i'm going to the gym" sungchan huffed out as he finished the last sips of his drink, crumpling the bottle with more force than necessary before tossing it.  

you looked down at your skirt and blouse, laughing dejectedly. "yeah, dinner actually. i'm on my way home now." although he was over the moon to hear that things with you and sungmin were clearly going nowhere, his eyes softened at the sadness in your voice. "didn't go well?"

"not really, i just wasn't into it, ended things tonight." you looked down, toying with the end of your sleeve. he grimaced. "is that why you're walking back alone?" you nodded. he scanned the area around the two of you. "you could've called me, you shouldn't walk alone so late"

you chuckled softly. "it's okay, i'm a big girl. i can make a five minute walk alone." he broke into a smile and you swear you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. he checked his phone quickly before looking back at you.

"well, me and guys were gonna watch a movie at our place tonight, wanna come along? seems like you could use some company."

you bit your lip in contemplation. you honestly thought spending more time with the one person you were avoiding was a terrible idea. but you also couldn't bear the thought of being alone in your apartment. what's the worst that could happen anyways?

"sure. are you heading there now?" sungchan smiled happily at your answer. "i was gonna pick up some snacks first, there's a convenience store around the corner."

"let's go."

[bonus]

as the front door shut and the tall boy left the apartment, seunghan looked up at eunseok again, chewing the remainder of his cereal. "doesn't it bother you?" eunseok finally let out a laugh. "that he likes my sister? no, i think it's pretty funny, maybe he'll do something about it for once." eunseok's phone chimed with a message from yunjin, a response to him asking where his sister was going tonight. "plus... i'm pretty sure she likes him back."  

[ev3rgreenxtrees]

,,Little Bit”

-M.S

Synopsis: Matt agrees to go to a strip club with his friends, to help ‘relieve his stress’. What happens when things take a turn, and Matt actually takes some interest in this horrible fiasco?

Pairing: Switch!Matt X Fem!Stripper!Reader

Warnings: Pure smut. Don’t read if you don’t wanna, no ones forcing you. Unprotected p in v, degradation kink, praise kink, strippers & strip club, choking, oral (m receiving) , cum in pants.

Matt let out a sigh of annoyance as Chris slammed his car door, exiting their ‘shared’ S.U.V. As much as Matt didn’t want to be there, his friends told him it would help him ‘loosen up’, and they were all tired of ‘Tough Guy Matt’.

Matt followed Chris out of the car, almost immediately agreeing upon hearing the blasting music from the club.

“Chris, are you sure this isn’t weird? You’re my brother, I feel awkward going to a strip club with you.” Matt caught up with Chris, who just simply shook his head. “But..” Matt started, and Chris cut him off.

“Look, Matt, we can’t force you to be here, it is completely up to you. No, its not fucking weird, you’re acting like were the ones stripping. Go home if you want to, kid.” Chris sighed, as he continued walking to the door. Matt paused to think about what Chris said, and he eventually agreed.

What was the harm? Plus, he was bound to go to a strip club at least once in his life, so why not just go with people he trusts? He knew Chris was there, and a few of his other closer friends were already waiting inside for the pair, and that is why Chris was trying to make his way to the door quickly.

Matt let out a shaky breath, before jogging back up to Chris, as they both got stopped by the bouncer, for obvious reasons. They were both given the ‘good to go’, and they headed inside, Matt sticking to Chris as close as possible. Loosing Chris would cause him much more anxiety than what he had already built up.

Chris and Matt both walk up to the bar together, where their other friends had been seated. The spot gave them all a clear view of the stage, crowded with loud people, mostly men, seemingly in their mid-twenties, or maybe even early thirties. Him and his friends seemed to be part of the younger people there.

Matt let his eyes wander to the stage. There were only two girls stripping at the moment, one of them was you. The way you walked around the bar, your hands ever so slightly twisting around it, mimicking the exact motions you’d do if you were stroking his cock. The way your back arched, and your legs wrapped seductively around the silver pole, Matt was loosing his mind, just looking at you.

He cursed at himself for letting his mind picture such disgusting images about a woman, let alone one he had never even spoke to before- let alone seen before. Matt’s eyes were glued to your body, almost shamelessly. He felt horrible for thinking such vile thoughts, but you wouldn’t know. There was a very little chance you’d see him staring at you, since there were already so many men doing the same exact thing.

To Matt’s avail, he jinxed it. You looked in his direction before winking. His face immediately flushed crimson red, as his eyes widened. You continued to work your magic on the pole, Matt’s eyes wandering to your ass. Even though the wink was no doubt to him, he tried to play it off like it was for someone else. It would make him feel less guilty about his actions.

His eyes stayed sharp on your ass, pressed tightly against the leather of the material you were wearing. You were wearing such a short leather skirt, with a black lace bra, allowing people to only wonder what you had under the skirt. Every once in a while, your skirt would slightly lift up, giving a few people a view of the black lace panties you had on, that matched the bra you had.

Matt felt himself start to grow hard under his restricting jeans. He felt disgusted with himself. There had to be a bathroom, right? He could just run to the bathroom and back, before anyone even realized he left. They were too drunk and occupied to realize anyways.

Matt quickly stood up from his seat, and snuck into the crowd of people. He honestly hated being there. The place was crowded, loud, overwhelming, and now he was throbbing. He just wanted to go home. He tried staying as close to the walls as he could, assuming the bathroom would be connected to the wall. After walking for what seemed like forever, Matt was about to give up when he accidentally bumped into someone, much shorter than he was.

“Oh, fuck, ‘m sorry,” He mumbled, his voice quickly trailing off when he realized it was you that he bumped into. His eyes were no doubt trailing up and down your perfect body.

“That’s alright, pretty boy. Maybe if you kept your eyes where they belonged, you wouldn’t be running into people, hm?” You tilted your head, your hand finding its way to his chin, lifting it up, to make his eyes meet yours. You let out a small giggle as you realized just how flustered you made the boy. “Are ya lookin’ for somethin’, or just wandering around?” You asked curiously.

“I.. uh…” Matt trailed off, his eyes shamelessly looking down at his own jeans, the bulge clearly visible in his pants. “Bathroom..” He mumbled.

“Oh, baby..” You hummed. “That looks like it hurts so bad… Follow me, I’m sure I can make that pain go away,” You mumble, pressing your hand firmly against his pants, making him jolt under your touch. The way he was reacting let you know this poor boy was touch deprived. It wasn’t often that you would invite people to the back with you, it was usually them initiating first and offering money, which you almost never turned down. But this guy was different. He was hot as fuck, and he seemed to be around your age.

The boy nodded quickly, and you let a smirk cover your face. You took his hand in yours, as you swerved in and out of the large group of people in the crowded building. Matt was tense, and you could tell. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, though.

As you led him into one of the rooms in the back, his eyes widened. The room had LED’s lit red, and a pull out couch that was set up into a bed.

“Lay down for me..” You demanded, but then waited for him to tell you his name.

“M-matt,” The boy stuttered, as he laid down on the creaky bed.

“Okay, Matt. Good boy.” You cooed, looking at the boys flustered state. “Do you want me to fuck you, pretty boy?” You asked, as you got on the bed, beginning to hover over him, wanting to get permission before you do anything more.

“God, yes, please..” The boy whined, looking up at you with wide eyes. You nodded, and you took the opportunity to straddle his lap, your ass going right onto his boner. This caused the boy to let out a loud groan, as he gripped the sheets below him.

You leaned forwards, grinding your hips on the whining boy, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Want me to mark you up, baby?” You offered, and Matt hummed in response. You let a small giggle out, at the fact that Matt wouldn’t even open his mouth, or he’d moan. God, he’s so sensitive.

You moved your lips down to his jawline, placing small kisses there. As you continued to move down to his neck, the kisses became more and more rough; leaving dark marks behind. You continued to move your ass over Matt’s dick, and the boy was still moaning beneath you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was still a virgin, but you were still slightly surprised that he’s lasted this long already, by the state he was currently in.

“P-ugh, please-“ Matt moaned as his hips bucked up. ‘There you go’, you thought. You pulled his lips away from his neck, which was now basically half purple.

“Please what baby?” You teased, slowly running your hands along his clothed chest.

“I- Please, I need to..” He mumbled. He was so shy, it was so fucking awesome. You could tease him all day.

“Hm?” You hummed, and he whined loudly. You let out a small giggle, deciding you can be done teasing the helpless boy beneath you. “You need to cum, Matt? Is that it? Already?” You pouted, and Matt nodded. “In your pants, baby? Such a naughty boy.. Go ahead.” You permitted, and Matt groaned as his head flew back. He bucked his hips into you, and you began to feel a wet spot through his pants.

“Oh, god,” Matt moaned, as you stood off of him. He was out of breath, his chest heaving with his uneven breaths. “Fuck, you’re amazing.” He huffed.

“What? Never had sex before or something? Wait, please tell me you have-“ you started joking, but you quickly began to worry. Matt being a virgin isn’t an issue to you, nor does it bother you, you just definitely didn’t want to be his first time unless he wanted you to.

“Oh- No! I’m not,” He chuckled awkwardly. “I just.. recently broke up so.. haven’t done anything recently. Thats why i’m here, too. And im usually more of a dominant guy, so, thats why I said you’re amazing.” Matt sighed.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, sweetheart. Breakups suck.” You shook your head. How could someone break up with someone who’s heart was so pure? He was cute, too. You didn’t want to keep the conversation going, in case it would upset or make him uncomfortable. “Ya don’t seem to dominant to me, though, Matty.” You tilted your head and shrugged, placing your hands on the waistband of his pants and boxers, slowly tugging them down.

“I-I usually am-“ Matt faltered, as he lifted his hips off the bed, giving you much easier access to slip his unwanted clothing off.

“Yeah?” You teased, knowing you were clearly the dominant one here. The boy just nodded, and you yanked his pants and boxers all the way off. You stared at Matt’s cock in awe. It wasn’t the biggest you’ve ever seen, but it was pretty big, and girth. But unlike all the other one’s you’ve seen in the past, his was oddly.. pretty.

“W-why’re you looking at it like that.?” Matt asked confused, starting to get insecure.

“It’s pretty,” You chuckled. “and I dunno if I wanna suck it or ride it.” You hummed, and Matt whined.

“Please just ride me- I-I need to feel you,” He pleaded, and your eyes met his.

“Dominant. Huh.” You hummed, standing off of him.

“No- please, I-“ Matt fumbled, his hard cock leaking precum and its tip a throbbing red.

“Calm down, baby.” You chuckled, as your hands slipped to your back, allowing you to unclasp the lace bra you had on.

As Matt watched this action, he calmed down and went quiet. He nodded, and watched your tits spill out of the bra, the second you took it off. You threw it off to the corner, slipping your skirt off as well, leaving you in only your panties.

You crawled back onto the bed, and Matt’s hands immediately flew to your hips. You slipped his shirt off, so it wouldn’t get more sweaty than it had already been. He looked up at you with doe eyes, but then allowing his eyes to trail down your body.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking gorgeous,” He huffed, and you let out a small giggle.

“I could say the same for you.” You stated, your hand trailing down to his cock. You slid his tip through your soaked folds, causing you both to let out a small moan.

You sank slowly down onto the boys’ cock, letting out a loud whine as you did so. You slowly started to bounce, Matt grabbing harshly onto your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight-“ He mumbles, his head falling back.

“Holy shit, baby, you fill me up so good,” You hummed. Usually, you’d keep your dirty talk to a minimum (not that it stopped your other few customers here and there), but for Matt, you could make an exception.

Matt let out a small whine at the remark, and you knew the boy loves being praised. You could tell by the small almost inaudible noises he’d make after every sweet praise that would roll off of your tongue so sinfully.

His back arched, and he let out a loud groan as you continued your fast-paced bouncing. He let out strings of curses, his eyes finally meeting yours once again.

“P-please-“ Matt groaned, and as much as you wanted to make him beg for it, you didn’t know his boundaries, and you don’t want to push him. He releases inside of you, letting a loud moan loose. You bounce a few more times, before getting off of him.

“What..?” You ask him, as he gives you an odd look.

“You.. Um… You didn’t cum?” Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh- No! It’s nothing with you, I swear. Most men just.. Don’t care about female pleasure. They just use me for whatever and then want to leave, so that’s what I let them do.” You shrugged, used to the feeling by now.

“No, no, no.” Matt shook his head, standing up besides you. “I am not one of those men. You will not leave this room until you cum. Understood?” Matt grabbed your chin, making your eyes meet his.

His sudden chance in demeanor caught you very off-guard, and it honestly turned you on. How could such a whiny and needy boy turn into this within the matter of seconds? Nonetheless, you nodded, squeezing your thighs together subtly, trying to not let Matt notice.

He pulled your jaw closer, making your lips meet his. The two of you kissed, and you simply allowed Matt dominance, as he pushed you backwards to the bed you were just on moments before.

He pushed you back onto the bed, hovering over your much smaller body. He never broke the kiss once. His hands traveled down your body, gently rubbing along your sides and stomach, your thighs and arms. Everyplace he could touch, he was.

He pulled away from the kiss, flipping you over harshly, causing you to be laying on your stomach. He reached down, and pulled your ass up in the air, causing your hands and knees on the bed, your back perfectly arched,

“Fuck, ma, gonna take my cock like a needy slut? Huh?” He growled, slapping your ass harshly, causing you to let out a yelp in both surprise and a slight twinge of pain.

“Yes- just please, hurry up,” You whined out, causing Matt to chuckle.

“Needy little whore, can’t even wait a few minutes?” Matt tutted, gripping onto the base of his cock, sliding it through your slick folds a few times. Each time, he let his tip linger at your entrance, leaving you to wonder when he was really going to push in.

You so badly wanted to just push yourself backwards, forcing yourself onto his cock, but you know that would only end in a punishment for you. You let out a frustrated groan, and Matt took this opportunity to slam himself into you.

You gasped, and immediately became a moaning mess for him. His pace was much quicker than what you were bouncing on him at, and he was also hitting much deeper and in the right spots at this new angle.

“Fuck! Matt, Matt, Matt!” You chanted his name like a mantra, as he fucked deeper and deeper into you, keeping such a hard grip on your hips, you were sure it would bruise by the morning- or possibly even later tonight.

“Fuck, that’s it. Just keep taking my cock, like the slut you are, hm? Fuck, yeah. You’re taking me so, so well.” Matt mumbled, his hand following your leg, reaching your throbbing clit. He began rubbing in circular motions as he pounded into you at a relentless pace, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t had your last orgasm since a while ago, which was quite surprising, since ‘this’ was your job. You felt a slightly familiar knot tie in your stomach, this knot continuously getting tighter and tighter by the second, and you tried to warn Matt, knowing it would snap at any moment.

“M-Matt, cum!” You moaned, and without permission, you let yourself loose on Matt’s cock. He quickly pulled out, replacing his cock with his tongue, allowing you to ride out your high.

He had came as he was pulling out, and you pulled quickly away, as his tongue was quickly overstimulating you. He stood up, chuckling as he watched you collapse onto the bed, him doing the same next to me.

“I’m still technically at work, but.. I’d love to do that again sometime.” You shrugged, looking over at a cheesing Matt. “Why’re you smiling like that?” You questioned.

“You said most men don’t make you cum. I did,” Matt grinned, winking at you. “And, hell yeah. I’d fuckin’ love to do that again sometime.”

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

me cause im so so so incredibly bad at endings LMAO😭😭 but thank you sm for reading, and SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO ACC FINISH I LOST MOTIVATION HALFWAY THRU BUT I RLY LIKED THE IDEA SO I DIDN’T WANNA JUS GIVE UP😭

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

[urhoneycombwitch]

in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

wc: 3k

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- “You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

[brainddeadd]

baby devil just so confused because she remembered how sweet and kind matt is to her and her friend once but now he is being a jerk to her team but still nice to her. maybe after one of the devils rangers games he waiting for her outside the locker room and he asked her to come with him and they get food or something

Rivalries and Dinners

Y/N has always had a great relationship with Matt Rempe. He was sweet and friendly when they met through mutual friends, even helping her out during her early days in the league. But lately, things have gotten tense during games, especially as Matt plays for the rival Rangers. His attitude on the ice is completely different—he’s rough with her teammates, instigating fights and playing the role of an enforcer for his team. What confuses Y/N is that despite his aggressive actions toward the Devils, Matt still treats her kindly whenever they interact. During the last game, she caught him staring at her, a concerned look in his eyes, but when it came to her teammates, he wasn’t holding back.

The guys—Jack, Nico, Luke, and Dawson—are wary. They can sense something’s off with Matt’s behavior, especially when he seems to be trying to get Y/N’s attention. After one particularly brutal Devils-Rangers game where Matt picks a fight with Jack, Y/N watches helplessly from the bench as tensions boil over. Matt was once kind to her, but seeing him throw punches at her teammates makes her stomach twist.

After the game, as Y/N heads to the locker room, she’s surprised to find Matt leaning against the wall outside, waiting for her. Her first instinct is to turn around, but curiosity gets the better of her. Before she can say anything, Matt gives her a small smile, his earlier aggression completely gone.

"Y/N," Matt says softly, stepping closer. "You wanna grab a bite? Just the two of us. I figured… we could catch up."

Her eyes narrow, feeling conflicted. Why is he being so friendly now? He was just fighting with her teammates not too long ago. The conflicting personalities—gentle with her but a jerk on the ice—leave her in a haze of uncertainty. “I don’t know… It’s kinda weird with how things have been,” she admits, fidgeting.

Matt shrugs, unfazed. "I promise, no hard feelings off the ice. It’s just part of the game, Y/N."

Despite the awkwardness, she agrees to go, mostly out of curiosity but also to get some answers. They walk together to grab food, and as they talk, Matt’s kindness returns, leaving Y/N even more confused. He’s acting like the guy she knew before—sweet, attentive, joking about old times. But in the back of her mind, she can’t shake the image of him going after Jack and Luke earlier in the game.

Meanwhile, the Devils’ locker room is buzzing with worry. Y/N didn’t return with them, and after some checking around, it’s clear she left with Matt. The guys exchange worried glances. Jack is pacing, his jaw tight. "Where did she go with him? That guy's a jerk on the ice—what if he’s pulling something?"

Luke leans back in his chair, equally concerned. "We can’t just let him get away with it if he’s messing with her. What if he hurts her? Mentally or…"

Dawson crosses his arms, already planning a search party. "We gotta make sure she's okay. Someone has to call her."

Nico, the team captain and arguably the most level-headed, tries to calm everyone down. "Look, Y/N’s smart. She’ll handle it. But we need to let her know we’ve got her back. If Rempe’s just messing with her head, we’ll make sure she knows who to trust."

As Matt and Y/N sit down for dinner, she finally decides to confront him. "Matt, what’s the deal? One minute you’re fighting my teammates, the next you’re being nice to me. It’s confusing."

Matt sighs, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, it’s the rivalry between our teams. I don’t have anything against you or your guys personally, but I’ve got a job to do on the ice. It’s different off the rink though. I don’t want that to get in the way of us… you know, hanging out."

Y/N nods slowly, still unsure. She likes Matt as a friend, but the tension between him and her teammates is impossible to ignore. "It’s just hard to separate the two sometimes. They’re my family, Matt. It’s not easy seeing you act that way with them."

Matt gives her a sympathetic look, reaching out to touch her hand gently. "I get it, Y/N. I’m not trying to make things hard for you. But if you ever need a break from all the rivalry stuff, you can come to me. No pressure, okay?"

Y/N eventually returns to the team, texting Nico, Jack, and the others to let them know she’s safe. When she steps into Jack's apartment, and the concerned expressions on their faces say it all. Jack is the first to speak up, crossing his arms with a frown. "So, how was your little date with Rempe?"

Y/N rolls her eyes. "It wasn’t a date, Jack. We just talked."

Luke steps forward, looking serious. "You know we’ve got your back, right? If he’s messing with you…"

Y/N smiles softly. "I know, guys. He’s not. It’s just… complicated. But thanks for worrying about me."

Nico nods, the tension in the room easing. "We’re your family, Y/N. We’ll always worry about you."

As the group settles down, Y/N realizes how much the Devils mean to her. Despite Matt’s confusing actions, her bond with the team remains unbreakable. They’ll always have her back, no matter what.

[theficpusher]

They Just Don't Know You by mukeandziamgotmelike | nr | 1306 //So, oh, tell me, tell me you won't break my heart. That you won't tear my world apart. That you'll be there when I need, cause I wanna tell them they just don't know you, they just don't know you, they just don't know you, they don't know you like I do.// -OR- Liam has been dating Zayn for months, and still, for some reason, no one approves of him. It's annoying, and Liam wishes they would stop. He doesn't know why they don't trust Zayn, but he just wants to tell them that they just don't know him like he does.

Screaming But Daddy I Love Him by Wishingforloushair | E | 21873 Harry has always tried to be the perfect Christian boy his religiously fanatic mother demands him to be. At seventeen he's never eaten fast food, drunk coffee (unless it was decaffeinated) or touched himself. That is until he meets Louis, one of the church's youth musicians. With his 'I Heart Jesus' stickers on his beaten up guitar case, his band (The Redemption Riffs), and his taste for good quality coffee, Louis' relationship with God is entirely different to Harry's, and Harry is positive that Louis is either a divine vessel, or Heaven-sent. Prepared to worship at Louis' feet, Harry is ready to learn a whole different way of worship and devotion with Louis' help. “That’s coffee,” he remarked, pointing at the dark substance in the other boy’s cup. “Yes, it is,” Louis said, taking a sip from it, his eyes fixed on Harry. “Is it decaffeinated?” Louis raised an eyebrow, putting his mug down. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you it is?” “Lying is bad.” “Then, no, it’s not decaf. I don’t drink decaf coffee because it tastes awful.” “But,” Harry swallowed, glancing over his shoulder before leaning forwards. “Drugs are bad,” he whispered.

What Side Of Love Are You On? by FallingLikeThis | T | 25000 Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before. When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart. A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.

but daddy i love him by wanderlou | nr | 28924 Someone cleared their throat and they all turned to the person; Charles. “I cannot and will not support this marriage.” “But Daddy…I love him,” Louis pouted. Or the one where Harry and Louis are getting married and Louis' dad hates Harry. Harry does everything to try and earn his respect during the wedding weekend.

adrenaline by reveries_passions | M | 38208 “Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay. ~ louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline. harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school. or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

Counterbalance by YesIsAWorld | E | 44777 Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

your memory over me by shimmeringevil | E | 64355 Three years have passed since Louis last saw him, but all it took was a few minutes in Harry’s presence for him to be relegated to the desperate twenty-one year old that was practically begging his boyfriend for an ounce of reassurance that he still cared about him. Harry shouldn’t be here. He’s brought too many unresolved feelings with him, that Louis thought he’d never have to face. It’s Harry’s apparent apathy that’s the most difficult to come to terms with. Anger, he could handle. Regret, he would welcome. But Harry’s amiability, and carefree demeanor can only be born from indifference. He’s moved on. He doesn’t care. And that is something Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever be strong enough to face. - OR - The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen | E | 630460 In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of. Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance. Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

[sophrosynesworld]

The Night Shift (Part 9)

“The person you are trying to reach has a voicemail that has not been set up yet. Please try again later. Goodbye.”

The automated message cuts off, leaving you staring at your phone screen. A heavy sigh escapes your lips. It’s been weeks since you woke up, but every attempt to reach Bakugo has been met with silence. Four missed calls, two unanswered texts—the message is clear. He doesn’t want to see you.

The crowd surges forward, and you move with it, carried along in a wave of shuffling feet and hurried glances. A rough cough tears through your chest, sharp enough to leave your throat burning. You try to clear it, but the effort only makes it worse.

If he did pick up, what would you even say? Hey, Bakugo. Sorry for dying? The thought twists something deep in your stomach.

You keep walking, head down, focused on the steady rhythm of your footsteps against the pavement—until you stop. Right there in the middle of the subway staircase.

Someone behind you mutters a curse, brushing past with an irritated shove. But you're not able to process it, memories claw at the edges of your mind, pushing past the dam you’ve worked so hard to build.

“How long do I have?”

Dr. Morri sits across from you, a tray of untouched cafeteria food between you both. The speed at which the hospital revoked your credentials was almost astonishing. Before the loose diagnosis, pulling 100-hour workweeks was just another Monday for you. Now, you’re “on sabbatical,” a sanitized label slapped on to keep questions at bay.

"You’re a medical mystery," he says. "You know how hard that question is to answer."

You lean in, arms crossing over the table, voice low. “What am I supposed to do? Wake up every day not knowing when I’m going to die?”

"Jesus, will you—" Morri had caught himself, exhaling sharply. "Talking like that won’t get you anywhere."

Your colleague drags a hand down his face, exhaustion settling in the lines around his eyes. You're not quite sure if he looks older than you remember or if you’re just seeing him clearly for the first time.

"You want the truth?" he sighs when you nod. "If we can’t find a cure… maybe a year."

"A year?"

"That’s on the generous side."

"Do you think they'll let me cash out on my social security early?"

"Dammit, don’t—" Morri cuts himself off, pausing for a moment. "We’re not giving up on you. We have every specialist looking into this." He leans back into his chair. "Quirk research is evolving everyday. But we need time, and you…" He exhales. "I think you need to tell someone".

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the table, nails digging into the plastic. That’s the problem, isn’t it? How do you tell people that you’re dying? That no matter how strong they think you are, no matter how much you’ve fought to survive, your own body has turned against you?

How do you tell someone like Airi?

You feel it again—the acid in your throat. Another person pushes your shoulder and it's finally enough to break your frozen state, your feet moving towards the platform and onto the correct train without having to think about it.

Your friends could never know. Your family would never find out. You made that choice—selfishly, maybe. Kento had called you out on it, tried to talk you down, but you didn’t listen.

"A year of happy memories is better than a year of them waiting."

Your eyes stay down, locked on the scuffed subway floor, refusing to let your thoughts spiral. The panicked thought slips away, shattered by the buzz of your phone in your back pocket. For a split second, your heart jumps—Katsuki.

But it’s Rina.

Hey! Wanna grab lunch this weekend?

You stare at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The simple question feels impossibly distant, like it belongs to another version of you. With a quiet sigh, you slip the phone back into your pocket, promising yourself you’ll reply later.

The subway doors slide open with a hiss, releasing a surge of passengers onto the platform. You move with them, climbing the steps until the center of the city swallows you whole—blaring horns, flashing advertisements, the ceaseless hum of bodies in motion.

Your eyes flick up on instinct, and there he is. The hero you've waited over a month to see. Or at least, his face—scowling down at you from a massive billboard, advertising Dynamight-branded protein powder. The absurdity of it pulls a scoff from your lips.

Shaking your head, you step forward, weaving through the crowd. Your gate quickens as you near The Booknook, a familiar restaurant just a few blocks away. Stepping off the sidewalk and into the alleyway, you suddenly feel something—a light tap on your shoulder.

Frowning, you glance back, half-expecting to see a old coworker. Instead, you find yourself looking up at the number one hero, clad in an evergreen and silver hero suit. He looks out so different. His boyish smile is disarmingly warm, tinged with nerves that somehow make him seem more approachable. Was he wearing a hero suit when he came into the hospital? You frown, trying to remember.

“You recover fast,” The words slip out reflexively, your professional instincts kicking in.

Izuku chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that’s almost endearing. “Only thanks to doctors like you.”

The casual acknowledgment stops you short. “You… know about that?”

He nods, his expression softening. “Yeah. They told me everything. If it weren’t for you… I wouldn’t be standing here.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. It’s rare for a hero to acknowledge you so directly—your work usually fades into the background of their larger-than-life narratives.

“Well,” you manage, brushing off the moment with a faint smile, “you got to us just in time.”

Izuku chuckles. “You shouldn’t do that.”

"Do what?" you ask, stepping deeper into the shaded alleyway, away from the relentless heat of the dusk sun. You tilt your head slightly, a silent invitation for the hero to follow.

“Brush things off like they’re nothing,” he replies following as you step forward, the muted clink of his armor echoing against the walls of the pothole-ridden alleyway. His polished boots crunch against loose gravel as his eyes lock onto yours. “Take credit for what you do. From what my friends tell me, you're a real hero. Own it.”

A flicker of warmth stirs in your chest, but you wave it off with practiced nonchalance. “Thank you, Midoriya. But, I'm on holiday now so don't inflate my ego."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," Izuku chuckles his eyes flicking left, then right, scanning the alley.

You follow his gaze, but all you see is cracked asphalt, a few scattered puddles from yesterday’s rain, and a pigeon that looks way too invested in your conversation. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the fire escapes above, cutting sharp lines of light and shadow across the walls. You’ve never thought much of it before—it’s just an alley. But the way Izuku’s locates every rustling scrap of paper and distant clatter makes you wonder what he's seeing that you don't.

His armor catches the sunlight in flashes, the green and silver plating looking oddly out of place against the dingy bricks and rust-streaked dumpsters. Yet somehow, it fits him perfectly. He looks… cool, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, though you’d rather bite your tongue than say it out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be off saving the world right now?” you ask, your tone casual, though the question feels more pointed than you intended. It feels almost ridiculous, standing here with him when it’s so clear he could be anywhere else—doing something that actually matters.

You expect a quick, snarky reply. Something cocky to match the confidence you constantly see online. But instead, he says:

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" You stop in your tracks, holding still so the crunch of gravel beneath your soles doesn’t mask whatever he’s listening for.

Izuku’s eyes stay fixed ahead with an unreadable expression. His footsteps still crunching. "Exactly," He exhales, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Izuku slows, just enough for you to catch up, his sharp eyes flicking to a shadowed doorway before returning to the path ahead. You can’t tell if he’s on edge or if this is just how he is—always scanning and assessing. Either way, it’s unsettling. How does someone live like that? Constantly waiting for something to go wrong?

"Take a left up here," you say, hoping to lighten the mood. "It's not a bad neighborhood, you know."

He shrugs. "I never said it was."

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.

"So, where are we headed?" Izuku asks, stepping aside as the alleyway opens into a wider street.

"The Booknook." you say, shoving your hands into your pockets. "Ever heard of it?"

He tilts his head, glancing at the faded street signs. "Can’t say I have. Is it any good?"

"Guess you’ll find out,"

"Is that an invitation?" His tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something in his expression—like he’s giving you a way out.

You hesitate for half a second before nodding. The moment you confirm, your stomach twists. Why did I just invite Deku with me? Panic flutters in your chest, but you keep your tone casual. "If you’re chasing me all over the city just to say thanks, the least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee."

He chuckles, falling into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. "I appreciate that."

“How’ve you been?” you ask, starting up the first set of stairs. The incline feels steeper than it should, a tightness creeping into your chest with each step.

“Honestly?” The seriousness in his tone forces you to glance over your shoulder. “I’ve been having a hard time breathing.”

Your right foot stops moving mid-step causing you to nearly trip, catching yourself just in time before spinning around to face him. Standing a few steps higher, you’re eye-level with him for the first time.

"For how long?" The words come fast, concern sharpening your tone. "Since the accident, or before? Have you seen a doctor?" The questions tumble out, one after the other, leaving no room for hesitation.

His expression shifts—seriousness breaking into something playful, his grin lighting up like a switch flipped.

"Are you... are you fucking with me?"

"Yes," Deku admits with a laugh, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Midoriya!" You swat his arm, cheeks warming, but the metal plating of his armor dulls the impact. Izuku still moves as if you actually hit him, feigning injury with an exaggerated wince.

Rolling your eyes, you take another step forward. "This healer is off the market," you say, the joke barely out before a wave of sadness crashes over you. "Go find someone else to save you next time."

"Don't be like that," he laughs.

A few people wave as you pass a stationary store, their attention fixed on him. You glance ahead at yet another incline, groaning internally. Why are there so many damn hills in Japan?

"Could we stop for a second?" Izuku leans casually against the railing, squinting at the sun. "I always think I’m in shape… until I have to walk up all these hills."

You let out a breathy laugh. "Sure," you say, shooting him a knowing look. "But shouldn’t you have more stamina? I feel like that's an important trait in heroes."

Izuku huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, turns out crime-fighting doesn’t require this much uphill cardio."

Whatever awkwardness was left between you dissolves as you both break into breathless laughter, the kind that makes your ribs ache but feels way too good to stop. For a moment, it’s like you’re both teenagers again—no weight of the world, no expectations—just two kids without expectations.

Somewhere between catching your breath and teasing him about his supposed stamina, you learn a few things. Like the fact that Izuku drinks an almost concerning amount of melon soda, keeps an entire journal dedicated to analyzing his students’ quirks, and sometimes gets so caught up in hero work that he forgets to eat. In return, you offer little pieces of yourself. How your heart has always been just a little too reckless, how sleep never comes easy no matter how exhausted you are.

It turns out, you have more in common than originally thought.

You both push yourselves too hard. You both let responsibility weigh heavier than it should. And neither of you know how to slow down.

And yet, there’s a difference.

Because while you blend into the background, Izuku never can.

People watch him.

Not just a passing glance or a quick double take. It’s more than that. Every step he takes seems to draw eyes, conversations pausing mid-sentence as he moves past. Somehow, it just seems effortless—the way he acknowledges each one with a smile or a wave.

You watch him, too. The way the sunlight weaves through the green of his hair, catching in the unruly strands. You’ve heard rumors, of course, the hospital is full of gossip and secondhand stories. But none of it compares to seeing him like this, laughing at one of your jokes with a crinkled-up nose.

It's in that moment you understand why Japan idolizes him.

"Are you ready?" Izuku asks, standing up from the curb and extending his hand to help you up.

You look back at the hero, your mind still a little distracted, but still replying with a nod, focusing on him as he waits, hand outstretched.

"Of course." You smile, your lips pulling upward more naturally than you expected as you reach out. Your hand fits in his much larger one, the warmth of his grip grounding you as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet.

"We’re getting close. I think it’s only another block or two," you say, stepping forward—but then you hesitate, suddenly aware of how close you’re standing next to him. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make you notice.

For a split second, you wonder if Katsuki sent him. But the thought vanishes just as quickly—Katsuki won’t even call you back, so why would he go through the trouble of sending Izuku? The sting of that realization settles in your chest, but you push it aside, along with the dozen other questions piling up in your head.

Izuku, oblivious to your inner spiral, keeps pace beside you. The sound of your footsteps blends into the steady hum of the city—distant car horns, students filtering out of their evening study groups, laughter spilling from a nearby café.

"Never heard of this place before," Izuku says, breaking the silence. "What is it?"

"It’s part library, part restaurant," you explain. "Coffee and lunch during the day, liquor in the evening. People go there to read, work, or just exist for a while."

He perks up at that, intrigued. "What’s it called again?"

You huff a small laugh. "The Booknook. It’s probably my favorite place in the city."

Izuku chuckles, shaking his head like he should’ve guessed. "Sounds like something my friend Ida would visit. I’ll have to mention it to him next time I see him."

By the time you reach the correct street, the cozy, wood-paneled storefront glows warmly against the encroaching evening. A few patrons sit outside under string lights, noses buried in books, steam curling from their mugs. Through the large windows, you can see shelves lined with well-worn novels and quiet corners where people have tucked themselves away, lost in stories.

"Here we are," you say, your pace quickening slightly as you gesture toward the door. The store stands warm and inviting before you, the glow of its interior spilling onto the sidewalk.

Izuku tilts his head, taking in the café, but before either of you can step inside, the door bursts open with a sharp bang.

Someone barrels through, slamming into you with enough force to knock you off balance. Your breath catches as you stumble backward, only to collide with something solid. Izuku. His armored arms embrace you before you can hit the ground, steadying you with an ease that makes your stomach flip.

"Hey!" Izuku’s voice is sharp now, the calm politeness from before shifting into something more authoritative as he moves you behind him.

The man who crashed into you barely spares a glance your way. His focus snaps immediately to Izuku as a sneer curls on his lips. His entire presence oozes entitlement, like he owns the street beneath his feet.

"I don't have any spare change." he spits, his tone thick with disdain.

Your pulse kicks up, unease creeping beneath your skin. The man is tall and wiry, dressed in a suit so elaborate it probably costs more than your entire month’s rent. It's clear that he's the kind of rich that demands more from the world simply because he can.

"We don't need your money," you manage, squaring your shoulders. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. His copper eyes locked on the man in the hero suit.

"I’m just here for drink," Izuku says smoothly, his voice measured. "No need to make a scene."

The man scoffs. "Right. Because that’s all you heroes ever do—just mind your business, huh?" Mockery drips from his lips, daring Izuku to react as air between them shifts. You’ve never seen anyone talk to Izuku like this—openly hostile, taunting. But what unsettles you more is how unfazed Deku seems. He doesn’t rise to it, doesn’t even blink. He just tilts his head slightly, his warm eyes now harsh.

"I don’t want any trouble," Izuku says, his voice steady, even—calm in a way that only makes the tension feel heavier. "But you need to apologize to my friend here."

The man sneers again, his lip curling like the mere suggestion is an insult. He doesn’t push further, though. Instead, his narrow copper eyes finally slide to you. There’s something sharp about them, something that gleams. He studies you, trailing over your face like he’s searching for something.

The sneer falters, just for a second. His brows pull together, the look flickering once again into something else. Uncertainty? Amusement? It’s hard to tell. But then his expression hardens again, his jaw clenching like he’s come to some conclusion you don’t understand.

A sleek black car pulls up to the curb, its presence too smooth and convenient. He exhales through his nose, his attention shifting away as if we’ve already become irrelevant. There’s no apology. No words at all. Just a slight, almost imperceptible nod in my direction.

As he moves, his fingers flick out in a lazy, dismissive wave, like Izuku is hardly worth his time. The car door swings open, swallowing him whole. The silence that follows as his car pulls off is heavy, charged with something neither of us can quite name.

Izuku exhales slowly. "That guy…" he mutters under his breath, eyes still on the retreating taillights. "I don’t like him."

Neither do you, but you won't admit that.

"Come on," you say instead, forcing your voice to sound steady. "I'm sure we won't see him again."

Author’s Note: Hey, darling! Long time no read… or, I suppose, long time no write on my part. Life has been a whirlwind lately—I’ve been buried in work on my personal novel, which has unfortunately made me slack a bit on my content here. But I haven’t forgotten about you all! I hope you're staying safe, warm, and surrounded by good things. (Also, sorry if this is clunky?? Writing in second person is so much harder since I haven't done it in so long.)

Tags: @simplyraeblue @moonfloweronmars @kalulakunundrum @froggy-crystal @msjaeger @crystalssncw @dragonscribble @gina239 @abcdefbeom @bakugonnathrowitback @your-mom3000 @elarakive @piluhns @deadhands69 @rienin @pikachuzhc @vanillabeama @cheshairacat

[kkoga]

Masterlist ! next !

WC — 1.49k

Creds to @cafekitsune for the divider!!

Chapter 3 — Tangled ribbons

Seventeen steps. That’s how long it took for you to accept your fate.

You took a deep breath as you approached Sophia, who was still standing near the booth, shifting awkwardly on her feet. Her dark brown eyes flicked to you before quickly darting away, the pink still lingering on her cheeks.

You hadn't talked—really talked—in weeks. And now, thanks to Lara, you were about to spend an unspecified amount of time literally tied to her.

"Uh…" you started, rubbing the back of your neck. "So, um. Love lock, huh?"

Sophia let out a soft, nervous laugh. "Yeah… I guess so."

Daniela, who had been watching with a shit-eating grin, clapped her hands together. "Alright, alright, let’s get this show on the road!"

Before you could protest, the event volunteer swiftly tied a silky red ribbon around both of your pinkies, securing them together with a neat little bow. It was surprisingly sturdy—not too tight, but definitely not coming off unless someone cut it.

"Okay, so you guys have been locked for thirty minutes," the volunteer announced. "Rules are simple—no taking off the ribbon, no cutting corners, and you have to stick together the whole time. Got it?"

You groaned, already regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.

"Got it," Sophia said softly.

Lara was practically bouncing with excitement. "You two have fun!"

"Kill yourself," you mouthed at her, making her snicker.

Sophia turned to you, lips pressing into a tight line. "So… where do you wanna go?"

You exhaled sharply. "Might as well walk around, I guess. Get this over with."

She nodded, and with an awkward tug of your connected pinkies, the two of you started making your way through campus.

It was weird.

Weird, because Sophia used to be one of your closest friends. Before Jay, before everything changed.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and uncertain, until Sophia finally spoke up.

"I, um…" she hesitated, staring at the ground. "I didn’t think I’d be doing this today."

"Yeah, me neither," you muttered. "Lara’s an idiot."

That earned you a quiet laugh. "She is."

The silence returned, but this time, it felt… less suffocating.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way she was still lightly tugging at the ribbon, her fingers brushing against yours. It was such a small thing, but for some reason, it sent a strange warmth crawling up your spine.

You cleared your throat. "So, uh. You’re wearing red."

Sophia blinked at you, then looked down at her shirt like she’d forgotten what color it was. "Oh. Yeah."

Your stomach twisted.

"So… who’s the lucky person?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

Sophia’s steps faltered for half a second.

"It’s… complicated," she said finally.

You raised an eyebrow. "How complicated?"

She chewed on her lip, hesitating. "Just… not something I wanna talk about here."

Fair enough. You weren’t exactly in the most private setting.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than she was letting on.

The two of you continued walking, passing by groups of students who were giggling and pointing at your tied pinkies. You tried to ignore them, but when Sophia suddenly squeezed her pinky tighter around yours, your face burned.

"I miss this," she murmured.

Your breath hitched.

"What?"

She looked up at you, brown eyes unreadable. "Walking with you. Talking with you. It’s been a while."

Your throat felt dry.

"Yeah," you admitted, voice quieter than before. "It has."

And suddenly, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about Jay.

You weren’t thinking about his betrayal, or his stupid public confession, or how pathetic you felt for still caring.

Instead, you were thinking about Sophia. About how close she was. About how her pinky was still curled around yours.

And about how, for some reason, that stupid red ribbon didn’t feel so bad anymore.

The two of you continued walking in silence, the weight of the past weeks pressing between you like an unspoken truth. The ribbon between your pinkies swayed slightly with each step, the fabric warm where your fingers brushed.

You weren’t sure what was more frustrating—the fact that Lara had thrown you into this, or the fact that a part of you didn’t actually mind.

Sophia let out a soft sigh, her free hand coming up to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I know we haven’t really… talked," she said, voice hesitant, "but I—"

"Attention, love-locked pairs!" the speakers suddenly blared, cutting her off. You both flinched. "A special shout-out to Y/N L/N and Sophia Laforteza! Thanks to a very generous friend, you’ve been entered into the Question challenge! Please report to the booth near the gym!"

You froze.

Sophia turned to you, eyes wide. "Wait… what?"

You whipped around, scanning the crowd. It didn’t take long to find Lara and Dani standing nearby, doubled over laughing.

"LARA."

Lara clutched her stomach, barely able to breathe. "Oh my God, your face!"

"You PAID for this?!"

"Best ten bucks I’ve ever spent."

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. "You are the fucking worst."

Still snickering, Lara waved you off. "Go, go! Don’t keep the people waiting!"

You turned to Sophia, who looked equally bewildered.

"...We could just run," you suggested.

Sophia bit her lip, trying not to smile. "I mean… we could."

A volunteer at the booth suddenly called out, "Y/N and Sophia! You’re up!"

"Too late," Sophia said, nudging you forward. "Come on, let’s just get it over with."

You sighed, reluctantly following her to the booth. 

"Alright, lovebirds!" one of them said, grinning. "Since your very supportive friend paid for you, you have to answer this compatibility form and answer it together before being freed!"

"This is rigged," you muttered.

"Let’s see…" She read it out loud.

LOVE LOCK COMPATIBILITY FORM

1. What’s your favorite thing about your partner?

2. How did the two of you meet?

3. What’s one memory you share that means a lot to you?

4. Who confessed first?

5. What’s a song that reminds you of them?

6. You stared at the paper.

"What kind of rom-com nonsense…"

Sophia giggled. "This is so cheesy."

"Cheesy and unnecessary," you grumbled, but your face felt warm anyway.

She hummed, thinking. "Well… let’s just fill it out real quick and get it over with."

You both crouched near a bench, the ribbon between your pinkies stretching as you tried to write properly.

1. What’s your favorite thing about your partner?

You tapped your pen against the page, sneaking a glance at Sophia.

She was already writing something, her lips pursed in thought.

Finally, you sighed and scribbled down: She’s annoying but kinda funny sometimes.

Sophia peeked at your answer and gasped. "Excuse me?"

You smirked. "What? It’s accurate."

She pouted. "I put that you’re… y’know… dependable."

You paused, blinking.

"Uh. Thanks?"

Her cheeks were pink again. "Shut up."

Shaking your head, you moved on to the next question.

2. How did the two of you meet?

You both answered at the same time.

"First day of middle school."

You grinned at her. "At least we got that one right."

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

3. What’s one memory you share that means a lot to you?

This one took you a moment. You hesitated, debating whether or not to bring up something deep.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you wrote: That one time we skipped class and got caught in the rain.

Sophia’s head snapped up. "You remember that?"

You snorted. "Of course I do. We were drenched, and you wouldn’t stop complaining about your shoes."

She laughed. "They were my favorite shoes! I was devastated!"

You grinned. "You made me swear to buy you new ones when we got older."

She tilted her head. "You never did, y’know."

You shrugged. "Maybe one day."

For some reason, that made her go quiet.

4. Who confessed first?

You hesitated.

"...Well, technically, neither of us?" you said slowly.

Sophia nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah. That one doesn’t count."

You both moved on without another word.

5. What’s a song that reminds you of them?

Your brain stalled.

"...I have no idea," you admitted.

Sophia hummed, tapping her pen against the page. "I can think of one."

She leaned over and quickly wrote something down before you could see.

"Hey—what’d you put?" you asked, trying to peek.

She grinned. "Secret."

Before you could protest, she handed the paper back to the volunteer, who nodded. "Alright! You guys are free to go!"

Sophia smiled. "Thanks!"

You stood up, stretching your legs. "Finally."

As the two of you walked away, you glanced at Sophia.

"Seriously, what song did you put?"

She smirked, looking away. "Guess you’ll have to figure it out."

The ribbon between your pinkies swayed lightly as you walked.

And, for some reason, you didn’t really mind that it was still there.