#He's so normal at the beginning and I just love making him spiral out of his mind as being with Tristan forces him to confront some shit

[cedar-sunshine]

Yet again overjoyed at how normal Orion seems compared to Tristan. Like yes this is a well adjusted man who was raised in a friendly and loving home and makes rational and good decisions. Haha why do u ask. Haha. (: don't look in the closet haha. (:

[bbyobbyo]

You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol

wc: 1.6k

note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe

[read pt.2 here!]

Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.

Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.

In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.

Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.

-

You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.

Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.

You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.

[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it

[8:06 am] Do what????

[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁

[8:07 am] 👍👍👍

You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?

Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.

-

Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.

Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.

He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.

-

Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.

It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.

“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.

Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.

Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.

As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.

As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.

-

Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.

Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.

“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.

[moonstruckme]

no cause I was thinking…. reckless driving by lizzy is so james coded!!! so I wanted to ask if you could write something inspired by it with reader being a bit insecure about loving him loudly and he’s just like a walking „I love my gf“ sign

ily I hope you are having a great day/night🫶🫶

Thanks for requesting, love you!

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s beginning to frighten you how often you think of James. One of your friends will make a joke and you’ll catch yourself trying to remember it for him, or you’ll see a cute dog and want to send him a picture, or you’ll overhear a conversation in public and wish he were with you to press in close to your ear and ask Did you hear that? 

It’s sort of pathetic, really, considering you’ve only been dating a few weeks. The last time you’d met up you talked about how much you both loved the thin oreos, and when you saw a pack in the store yesterday you’d almost bought it for him. Only the realization of how much your life has started to revolve around him stopped you. 

You can’t be acting like James’ girlfriend. You’re only dating. It’s not like you love him—though you could, definitely, in time. But if you start doing girlfriend things, he’s going to think you are his girlfriend, and things will spiral out too fast for you to stop them. You have to dole out your affection in measured doses. Careful, controlled. 

You feel James enter before you see him. He holds the door to the coffee shop open wide, letting another woman exit before he steps inside, and the cool air that comes in with him has you turning your head. 

James is smiling as soon as he sees you. It’s a seemingly perpetual thing for him, this expression. You’re tempted to look out the window to the sidewalk and see if he’s left a trail of sunshine in his wake. 

“Hey,” he says, sitting down across from you. “You look really lovely.” 

You look exceedingly normal, but you thank him for the compliment anyway. “So do you.” 

“Thanks,” James says easily, like he gets this all the time (he probably does) but appreciates it nonetheless. He starts to dig in the tote he’s hung on the back of his chair. “I’ve brought you something.” 

You start to protest, but he anticipates you. 

“It’s tiny, don’t worry. Here.” 

He slides something crinkly across the table. It’s a pack of thin oreos. 

“Oh, no way! I almost…” You look up, meeting James’ eyes as your brain catches up to your mouth. Too late, you’ve blurted. You can hardly roll it back now. “I almost got a pack for you the other day, too.” 

He doesn’t seem to take your insensitivity to heart. In fact, his eyes light up. “Really! That’s so funny.” His hand remains still on the table but his fingers stretch towards yours, the barest of touches. “It was nice of you to think of me.” 

Your heart slumps. “I’m sorry I didn’t get them for you, though,” you say. “We should share these ones.” 

“Nope.” James leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Those are all you, love. Say, have you had a look at the menu?” 

You wince. “I’ve already ordered, actually.” 

“That’s alright,” he says breezily. “Back in a sec.” 

He stands and gets in line, leaving you to contend with the semi-awkward silence of being in the same place yet not speaking. Right as he finishes ordering, the barista calls your name. James looks like he might grab your drink for you, but you meet him at the counter, thanking the barista as you take it. 

“No problem,” she says with a smile. “Love your outfit, by the way.” 

You fluster a bit at the compliment, a break from the typical coffee shop dialogue you were prepared for, but James wraps a friendly arm around your waist and beams right back at her. 

“She’s got great taste, doesn’t she?” he asks, and you manage to cast a quick thanks over your shoulder as he steers you back to the table. “See, it’s not just me that thinks you look especially pretty today.” 

“Oh, hush,” you say, taking your seat and looking down to stir your drink bashfully. “What’d you order?” 

“Irish cream latte. Limited edition, apparently.” 

“So, the sweetest thing on the menu.” 

The smile spreads on James’ face. It ebbs and flows like the tide, you think, never really leaving. “You know me so well.” 

The warmth in his voice makes your chest feel hollow and achy. James goes to such lengths to do nice things for you, to show you that he pays attention and thinks about you and cares, and yet when it comes to you he’s left settling for whatever scraps of affection he can get. 

“James…” Your tone reveals your shift in mood instantly, and James’ head straightens the way a dog’s ears perk when it hears something alarming. “You know I want to take things slow, right?” 

He nods, and when he speaks his voice is considerately softer. “Yeah, you’ve said. Do you think we’re—I’m moving things too fast right now?” 

“No, just,” you wet your lips, having some trouble looking at his face, “I don’t know, I feel like I’m not being as good as you deserve. You’re such a sweet person, and I think…sometimes I feel like maybe you’d be happier dating someone who could be more all-in. You know?” 

For a second, the silence is torture. Then: “Someone you’re trying to set me up with, sweetheart?” 

You look up in surprise, but James is smiling again. Softer, now. Almost tentative. You find yourself mirroring him reflexively. 

His knee bumps yours under the table. “I don’t mind moving slowly with you,” he says. 

“Are you sure?” you ask. “Because you seem like you’re ready for more.” And I don’t know if I can manage that yet. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He takes your hand in his, and his eyes are soft, sweet caramel. He looks almost like he could love you. “If I’m coming on too strong, you can tell me, but I care about you. It’s hard for me not to be all-in, but that doesn’t mean I’m expecting the same thing from you. You seem like a sane, well-adjusted person.” James nods seriously. “Something I could use, I’ve been told.” He tries to keep the poker face when you grin, but fails in half a second. 

“Okay.” You give his hand a little squeeze. “Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

“I won’t,” he says certainly. “I always go for the sweetest thing on the menu, remember?” 

You take your hand back to cover your face, and James’ laughter echoes off the walls. 

[thicctails]

I C R A V E more gbc au stuff: particularly with Bill: were the twins aware of Bill before gravity falls? what do they tell the twins about bill once they get there? how does bill and his parents even go about reconnecting?? I want to know more about the direct aftermath of the reunion. It's not hard to piece together Bill and Fords relationship from the journals: did they read into it the wrong direction or smth? Like Bill fucking traumatized Ford: Euclid and Scalene's estranged long lost son fucking severly traumatized and manipulated a realtive of their adoptive kids: there's gotta be more complex feelings there? Does Bill blame them for his medical trauma? do Scalene and Euclid regret that? did they have differing opinions on it back when? also like, now Bill is legit insane: what with him having been percieved insane or a ticking time bomb of insanity before how do they feel about that? do they have differeing opinions?????

FNSKJDFNSDKJ DSI C R A V E MORE FERERJSNJKFDNFKE

PLEASE FEED MEEEEE

Ask and ye shall r e c e i v e

Both Scalene and Euclid were under the impression that Bill died when Euclidea inevitably collapsed in on itself. They told Dipper and Mabel that they had a child, but never went into much detail, as it hurt too much to talk about.

(You can imagine how fucking gutted they were when they saw images of him all around the Shack. Journal 3 was just a big fat gob of salt in their open wounds)

Reconnecting for them is like a healing an infected wound: you have to cut out the rot, grit your teeth for the burn of cleaning it out, work to keep the infection away, and accept the fact that there will be a scar.

Bill is so fundamentally broken and mentally unwell that not even the Axolotl can really fix him. The best he can do is help Bill get to a point where he can begin again in a different form. But getting to that point is the real trouble. It's rotten work, a path laden with pain and suffering and hurt feelings, but it's the only option worth fighting for.

Scalene and Euclid feel immense guilt for the mistakes they made raising Bill. They allowed themselves to be pressured into trying to make their gifted son normal, and everyone they ever loved and then some ended up paying the price. Bill may have started the fire, but their misguided good intentions handed him the match.

Bill himself is a whirlwind of emotions. He is unexplainably relieved that his parents are alive, but that also means that he can no longer possess a false bravado and pretend he intentionally slaughtered his entire dimension. His past is red and blue and in his face, and the voices have only gotten louder since he saw his mother's heartbroken face. Not only that, but they have, in his eye, replaced him with two of the people destined to destroy him! They look at Shooting Star and Pinetree with all the fondness they used to look at him with, and it makes his insides burn.

They also are constantly setting off each other's triggers, like some kind of sick oroborus of trauma. Bill's powers often manifest as pyrokinesis, which isn't great when your parents are still living with the horrific injuries caused by said fire. On the other side of the coin, Euclid has been soothing the twins with gentle TV static since they were little, since his preferred method of manifestation is screen-based technology, (whereas Scalene prefers music and books) which has caused Bill to spiral into a violent panic attack more than once.

As for Ford... well, neither Cipher parent is fond of him, as i've stated, but while they don't know the entire story of how his and Bill's time together was, they know enough to know that it ended in violence and misery, and they are not so heartless that they do not feel pity for the man and disgust towards their son's actions. They make it very clear to their eldest, when they can stand to speak to each other, that he is to never possess another member of the Pines family.

He only breaks that promise once, though it was for a good reason. Gideon needed a good beat down, and Pine Tree was too hurt to make that jump without help.

[darcytaylor]

Are people mad that Luke Newton has a girlfriend? Or is it something more? A deep dive. Part 1 of 3.

I want to start out by saying, I have been following the Bridgerton train since the season one release on Christmas day. It was a show that I knew nothing about and I became enamoured.

I have followed along with the show and the actors since the release. I find looking at human behaviour fascinating, as I work in a very customer service based industry. It is so interesting to me to see how the actors have conducted themselves, especially Luke Newton.

This post will be about why I think people are truly upset by his behaviour.

(some of which I agree with and some I don't)

Luke Newton has been quite the monogamous dater. He dated his fellow co-star from The Lodge, Sophie Simnett. They were both very young at the time, it seemed like a sweet relationship, but young love normally never lasts.

Then he got into a relationship with Jade Davies. She is very active in the Theatre world and it seemed like this was a very good pairing. I think they complimented each other well. You could tell they loved each other. Ultimately they broke up at the beginning of 2023, because they 'grew apart', or so the tabloids have stated.

I do know that Jade did receive some hate (which is fairly common in the industry that Luke is in). I personally don't think that it was as bad as people made it out to be. A lot of people loved seeing Luke in love and proud of his girlfriend. They supported them as a couple. They supported it because there really wasn't anything to not support.

After the breakup is where Luke Newton went off the rails (in my opinion). He decided to become the typical fuck boy and didn't keep it secret.

This is where he made his first mistake - he made his dating life public and it definitely looked questionable. (and yes he made it public by following certain people and posting about all of his vacations). He had a 'type' going into this time in his life (young dancers). But ultimately fans were forgiving because he just got out of a long term relationship. He was hurting and it's okay to spiral a little at a time like that. Fans supported him because they wanted him to have a 'hot girl summer'.

At some point he meets his confirmed/unconfirmed girlfriend Antonia. She seems to get a long with his close friends and people took notice of them spending time together. But I think fans thought he was still spiralling, so he wouldn't actually get into a relationship, he was only have fun.

Then the New Years kiss video was released. Fans did not like this. But ultimately I don't think that was what caused the biggest issue, I think his second mistake was befriending her on Instagram. This is what sealed them as an unconfirmed relationship. Had they decided to not make this decision, I think people could/would have left them/her be. It could have been summed up with 'it was just a New Years' kiss.

I think that Luke had every intention to make this relationship public. I think that, that was his ultimate goal that day. But because of the press tour coming up, he was told not to. I also think that made Luke spiral even more, he was upset that he couldn't show off his girlfriend (and when you like or love someone you do want to do that) and decided to take some of his issues out on his career and fans (by liking everyone of her photos, letting her post photos with his clothing, letting her post photos with his arms and legs).

His third mistake was mentioning that he was the most like his character on Bridgerton (he has said this multiple times) and his cast-mates also say the same thing. Hear me out on this one -

It can be easy to separate the art from the artist. That is simple enough for people to do (I have seen it happen on many occasions). But there were multiple times that he would say he is the most like his character (saying this made the task of separating difficult) - and lets be real Colin was made for the female gaze. He is charming, attractive, loving and isn't superficial. He fell in love with the 'outcast', the one that isn't the 'typical' beauty. Fans held onto this, because Colin as a character made them feel seen. They couldn't separate Luke from Colin because he kept saying he was like Colin.

When they look at Antonia they don't see the outcast, they don't see the girl that looks like them, they don't see a 'regular' woman. She is the opposite of who Colin would end up with, so that would mean that Luke wouldn't go for her. Antonia looks like the girl who made fun of you in high school, the girl who on the outside looks like she hasn't had a trouble in her life, a girl who's social media is all about vacationing and looks staged, she doesn't seem real.

(I want to note that I have no idea who she is as a person, she could be the nicest person).

So now that Luke has made a bunch of people mad they will go on a deep dive. The first thing that people will look into is the age. And she is quite young. Too young in fact. I am on the side that someone his age shouldn't be dating someone who's brain isn't fully developed (this is a scientific fact), ESPECIALLY since there is also a power dynamic. (It's okay if you do not feel the same way).

Luke's fourth mistake was letting his friends post things about himself on social media. Yes, I know that you can't control everybody in your life. But they are his BEST FRIENDS, Luke could have asked them to not post anything about himself. That would have been the smart more.

Luke's fifth mistake was not having Nicola and the Bridgerton Instagram posts with notifications on. He should have liked every single god damn post that they posted. This would have appeased the fans, the fans love that shit. But instead he would like every single one of Antonia's photos and forget about his job. This decision further bothered fans because he stated that he was moving his social media to be work related. I will be honest - his social media is kinda a mess. His social media presence is definitely a mistake he has made.

He goes on the Bridgerton press tour with Nicola (who is amazing at her job), and all of the imperfections of his life are even more exaggerated, because Nicola is fucking great. Even though Luke and Nicola are a pair when it comes to Bridgerton, people will still compare them.

When looking at this whole situation I think that Luke is continuing to spiral. I think that he can be a bit stubborn and he is doubling down. He has to know the mistakes he has made. He has to realize that he could have dated Antonia and not made it a whole situation/scene. If a celebrity doesn't want you to know something about their personal lives, you won't know.

Final thoughts - I think that Luke didn't think about how some of his actions would/could have been perceived, I think he was ill prepared in some of his actions, I think that he is still learning to be in the spotlight, I think he is somewhat immature, I think that he is being destructive to his career.

I'm convinced Luke wanted to come forward with his relationship months ago. I believe he was told not to and he didn't like that answer. He has shown some spite because of it. There are also other mistakes that I didn't get into, if you want a part 2 let me know? haha

Have I lost some respect for Luke during the past year? Yes.

Do I realize that it must be hard to be in the spotlight? Yes.

Do I think that if Luke continues on this destructive path he will regret it? Yes.

Should we also give him a bit of grace? Yes.

Do I think he is talented? Yes.

His actions sure are questionable though!

If you have gotten this far, congratulations and thank you for reading! It's been a fascinating deep dive!

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✩࿐

pairing: lyney x gn!reader

content: fluff, modern au, high school au, friends to (almost) lovers, mutual pining, theatre kids, lyney and the reader rehearse a kissing scene

summary: playing the role of his lover in a drama production is easier said than done, especially when you’re just beginning to realize the nature of your feelings for him.

a/n: i had no inspiration for a while but then lyney came along. i’m so normal about him. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

When you were told that you had to kiss your best friend for a school play, you were in shock and disbelief — not because you were repulsed by the thought of playing the part of a couple, but because you realized that you didn’t mind the idea of his lips pressed against yours.

You’re not quite sure when the feelings crept up on you, dawning in your heart like the hazes of peach and azure that dust the horizon at sunrise. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you started loving Lyney, but you’ve just never noticed that your adoration was beyond platonic. 

However, after experiencing your epiphany, you’ve been wondering if he shares your rose-tinted sentiments. Slowly but surely, you observe that the lines between friendship and romance have become blurred, fusing together in a myriad of watercolour hues.

Every once in a while, Lyney will hold your hand for no reason, the softness of his skin akin to the caress of gilded threads of sunlight. There are also instances where he’ll hug you for just a little too long, clinging onto you as if he never wants to let go. And of course, you’ll never be able to forget the sentimental nights spent gazing up at murals of sparkling constellations dotting pristine navy skies, where you cuddle with your best friend in an attempt to stay warm.

In these instances, a simple question lingers in the short silences, an untold inquiry that neither of you care to utter in fear of shattering the status quo.

What are we?

So now, as you sit across from Lyney atop the velvety cushions of his living room couch, ready to rehearse very kiss that sent you spiraling into a bout of infatuated hysteria in the first place, your heart can’t help but race. The melody it sings is one that speaks of perplexing feelings and a hope for fairytale endings, and it only amplifies as you look into pale violet eyes that sparkle as iridescent petals flutter about in their depths.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lyney whispers, smiling at you reassuringly. There’s something soothing about the expression on his face, embodying the serenity of a marine zephyr in the midst of a cruel summer.

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to practice a kiss?” you ask, voicing your thoughts out loud. “What if we’re not good enough?”

Truthfully, you’re a nervous wreck. Your fingers tremble, and your mind feels blank. You’ve always known that Lyney was born to be on stage, but you didn’t think he’d be so nonchalant in a situation like this. His disposition is completely composed, not a single spark of anxiety shining through his tranquil demeanour.

On the other hand, you’re constantly pondering the what ifs.

What if you mess the scene up? What if it turns out looking awkward? What if it’s so horrendous that it makes the audience uncomfortable.

However, in total contrast to you, Lyney simply chuckles, his voice ringing out in a clear and soothing fantasia.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you, keeping his gaze fixated on you. “I’m sure our chemistry will be absolutely perfect. After all, even Lynette has mistaken us for a couple.”

“She has?” you blurt out, both shocked and embarrassed that Lyney’s twin has had her misconceptions about your relationship. The two are practically telepathically linked, so the tall order of fooling Lynette would more or less be akin to deceiving the heavens above.

“She has,” Lyney confirms, a mischievous spark of violet electricity blazing through his irises, “and that’s why I’m certain we’ll be able to pull this off flawlessly.”

He gently laces his fingers around your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m not nervous at all.” From beneath the soft fabric of Lyney’s clothes, you can feel a gentle thrumming, a beat that resounds at a tempo matching that of your very own heart. “You know, even the greatest of performers get stage fright sometimes.”

In a mystifying twist, you feel more comfortable now that Lyney has told you that you’re not alone in your anxiousness. Your relief defies all logic, but perhaps it’s the knowledge that your feelings aren’t entirely unreasonable that soothes your nerves.

“I see,” you whisper. “Well I’m sure you’ll do great. We’ll get through this together.”

Lyney nods.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he says, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “Actually, ‘glad’ would be an understatement. ‘Beyond overjoyed’ is more accurate.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, the world seems to still, suspended in a momentary utopia. But despite your giddiness and the euphoric feelings that arise in your heart, you shrug Lyney’s words off, trying your best not to get your hopes up. After all, if you expect too much, you might find yourself disappointed in the end.

“The feeling is mutual. Although maybe we should get to rehearsing now. I think I’m ready,” you tell him, pulling your hand out of his grasp in a light motion, clinging on to the last of his warmth as his skin grazes yours. It’s reminiscent of fading sunlight comforting you with the dazzling radiance of a dying crepuscule, lulling you into a daze as it causes shades of twilight to waltz in a dance of fantastical wonders.

“Your wish is my command,” Lyney responds playfully.

However, after only a few seconds, his features shift into a more serious expression. Although the same smile is still adorning his lips, it’s softer now, more sincere.

Is this all part of an act, or is it real?

Additionally, an unidentifiable emotion now glints in a display of diamond lights, illuminating the seas of amethyst contained within Lyney’s eyes. Locks of platinum hair, composed of starlight essence, frame his face in a way that makes him look undeniably handsome. Once again, your heart, which had just barely stilled, begins to beat in a frenzy.

You want nothing more than to freeze time, stay in this ephemeral moment, relish in the sensation of his breath gently tickling your skin and engrave the ethereal sight before you into archives stored deep within your memories. But unfortunately, it’s impossible to pause the scene before you. Reality, unlike the countless movies and videos you’ve watched to study your part, stops for no one.

And before you know it, the divide between your lips and Lyney’s is diminishing, the blank space fading at a pace that feels both far too rapid yet far too prolonged at the same time.

Closer.

Closer.

And closer.

Until your lips meet in a clash of opalescent sparks, shedding light and embellishing the magical moment with an atmosphere worthy of any stage. The lilac butterflies that dance in the pit of your stomach prompt sensations of glee to arise within your heart.

His skin is soft and warm, and the feeling of his lips against yours is just so right. There’s no one else you’d rather kiss. There’s no one else you’ll ever long for. There’s no one in the world you’ll ever love more.

No matter how much you deny it, your relationship has crossed the line from platonic to romantic, gradually edging closer and closer to a thin border before finally falling over onto the other side. Your kiss with Lyney confirms everything. There’s far too much passion, far too much care and longing exchanged in a single act of affection.

Best friends don’t kiss each other like this.

At this point you’re certain the feeling is mutual. Now, all you have to do is wait until one of you inevitably confesses, and you’ll both be able to finally live happily ever after, basking in the splendor of true love.

thank you for reading <3 if you enjoyed this fic, i would really appreciate it if you could comment or reblog!

[gtgbabie0]

-William Bonney x reader

{Billy comes home to you, always}

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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If you could curse Billy into the ground you would, right in this moment at least. He’s not the type to break promises he makes to you, always keeping true to his words so perhaps that’s why this feels even worse than it would normally.

Billy promised he’d be back before dinner, his hands clasped around your own as he pressed kisses against your knuckles, trying to soothe the worry in your eyes, “I’ll be back for’dinner, promise baby” he said, before riding out of the safety of the Ranch.

That was just after breakfast, the sun had now settled, and the moon had taken its place, engulfing the horizon with a thick darkness. You couldn’t shake the growing pit of dread that settled in your stomach, your mind ran wild with worry, carried away with questions about his safety, whether or not he was even alive.

You squeeze your eyes shut trying to stop the spiral of panic. You couldn’t handle not knowing, you couldn’t handle the silence and the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows certainly wasn’t helping.

The dinner was stone cold by now, not that you could even stomach it, besides that was the least of your worries. You take a seat on the wooden chair, it creaks underneath you as you lean forward resting your elbows on your knees, waiting on baited breath for his return.

Your leg stops bouncing with nerve as the door opens and your trail of thought comes to a complete halt when you lock eyes with his. “M’so sorry” he sighs catching his breath as he closes the creaky door behind him. He’s drenched to the bone. Locks of wet brown hair curl against his cheek as water droplets run down his face.

You stand up, throwing the kitchen towel you had clasped in your hands at his chest, and it falls to the ground silently. “You fool- where the hell have you been?” The tears in your eyes begin to fall, worry starts to ebb away and in its place is a harsh mixture of relief and anger churning inside you.

Billy can’t stand it, the pain that contorts your face and it doesn’t take long for the guilt to catch up to him. “Sweetheart I was-” You don’t let him finish his sentence as you fling your arms around him, tugging him close to you. Overcome with conflicting emotions, you were so glad he wasn’t on death's door that it was hard to care about anything else.

His clothes are soaked by the rain, seeping onto your own as he holds you against him tightly. “I’m sorry” he whispers into your hair. There’s sincerity in his tone and shows in the way his hands begin to soothe against your back gently.

He repeats the words once more before pressing a kiss to your forehead and then another to your cheek. You pull back slightly, eyes studying him for any injuries as his rough hand's cup either side of your face, his thumb gently wipes away your tears.

“M’fine- I’m alright angel” he says and it’s only when your fingers curl around his wrists, bringing his hands away from your face do you notice the cuts and scrapes along his knuckles causing you to gasp, tugging him further into the kitchen as you scramble to get the first aid kit.

Billy knows better than to stop you, so instead he shuts up and lets you clean the dried blood and tend to the small cuts. There’s a silence that wedges between the pair of you, thick with tension as you hold his hands in your trembling ones.

“I thought you died… you silly man” you mumble, wincing when your voice trembles slightly. Billy leans forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder, closing his eyes as your arms circle around his shoulders.

“I’ll always come back to you… always” he promises with a soft whisper, peppering gentle kisses against your shoulder. He pulls back and you can’t help but completely melt at his loving eyes. “Nothin' can keep me away” he flashes you a sheepish smile, and the pair of you let out a breathy laugh.

“M’being serious… I’ll always find my way back to you” he trails his fingertips along your jaw, words whispered for only you to hear and the sudden seriousness in his tone reminds you just how much you mean to him. He’s already lost too much, he refuses to lose you too.

Billy’s hand settles against your cheek, his fingers curling around the base of your neck as he softly pushes you closer to him. “I love you” he whispers against your lips, noses bumping against each other as he kisses you with such a loving desperation.

“I love you too Billy… so much” warmth blooms within your chest at the way his eyes light up at the words, how he can’t control the bashful smirk that adorns his lips.

You help him wash up with lukewarm water and a cloth, sharing soft kisses and loving touches. He makes up for the lost time by helping you prepare dinner and sitting by the fire as you both eat, never once leaving your side just as it should be.

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AN/ I'm trying to figure out how to write for him but requests are open!

[yoonkles]

sigh. feeling angsty. read tags first for TW ppl

SaneObaGiyuu but tragic. Tomioka is so in love with them and they’re so in love with him but a part of him just can’t believe it. Why him? What does he have? What can he give to such a relationship? What has he done to deserve this? Why do they want him?

And then he thinks maybe they don’t want him. Maybe they thought they did at first but now the initial attraction has worn off and he’s stuck in the middle of it. Maybe Sanemi and Obanai want out but they don’t know how to leave. Tomioka spirals. And we all know Tomioka, He likes to hide from things. He pulls away. He can’t help it. They invite him out to dinner and all he can think is that it’s just a convenience invite, they’ll be happier without him there, the food will taste better without his dull presence. He leaves letters unopened and unanswered because he can’t bare the sight of an empty confession, of emotionless words and reminders that he is so wholly unloveable.

And neither Obanai nor Sanemi are stupid. They can feel the difference in their lover. They know that he stills loves them, he still looks at them with that twinkle in his eye that nobody else has the privilege of seeing. But he’s not himself anymore. They don’t see his tiny little smile anymore. He’s getting paler, avoiding the sunlight like a plague, like he’s not going outside as much. SaneOba have quiet talks between themselves. Wondering what to do, how to confront this behavior, if this can be fixed. They don’t want to lose Tomioka.

So, they try. They show up at his house, both alone and together, they reject missions and neglect their own needs all for Tomioka. Because they don’t care how much sleep they’re lacking or how many times they’ve missed training, something is wrong with their love and they need to fix it, whatever it is.

For a brief period of time, things go back to normal. Tomioka sees them trying and its like a switch flicks inside of him- they are trying because they want to, because they want him. He reciprocates the effort. He makes them breakfast after they spend the night and then dinner before they travel back to their own homes. He shows up to their trainings with towels and a change of clothes. He laughs a bit more and he sunbathes in his front yard while they bicker about nothing in particular. They say I love you and he says it back. I love you, too.

But a cycle is just that. An end is just a beginning and the beginning is an end in and of itself. It could be a mission that includes Sanemi and Obanai but excludes Tomioka. Or it could be a snide remark from another rank, sticking their nose into business it doesn’t belong in. it could be an eyeroll from Sanemi or a scoff from Obanai. but somewhere along the way something happens and Tomioka is once again awake at three in the morning with a weight on his chest. There’s a pressure behind his eyes and a pit in his stomach. He doesn’t want this to happen again. He was getting so much better. Why does this always happen to him? Why can’t he be normal, accept love without question? Is there something wrong with him? Fundamentally, cosmically wrong?

He spirals. It's just like before. But this time there’s no one there to keep his head above water. Sanemi and Obanai are sent on a mission. Tanjiro and Nezuko haven’t seem him in months. The other Hashira barely tolerate him as it is. He is alone. And he sinks.

It only takes a few days. The feeling of his sword against his wrists isn’t as unnerving as he thought it would be.

In a few days time, the crows of the Demon Slayer Corp receive a message. Kanzaburou caws solemnly. The news travels fast.

It reaches the Hashira residing at the estate first. Shinobu, Rengoku, and Himejima. The birds swarm above them, and for an oblivious second, they think there’s a mission. Then, Attention, Hashira! Tomioka Giyuu, the water pillar, has been found dead in his estate!

And there’s a silence between the three. Maybe it’s the shock. Maybe it’s the wording. Dead. In his estate. They listen to the message repeat two, three times more before it sets in. One of them is dead. Shinobu is the first to start moving. Rengoku and Himejima follow closely.

Next, is Tengen, who relaxes at home with his wives milling about. He can hear his crow from miles away. When the bird doesn’t say anything until it lands on a window perch, is when Tengen knows something is wrong. The words ring throughout the house. Tomioka Giyuu has been found dead. One of his wives drops a cup. It shatters on the floor. Tengen flinches.

Mitsuri is training when she’s delivered the news. She snaps her wooden sword in two. She can’t accept it- and- and then she thinks- Obanai. Sanemi. She doesn’t thinks she’s ever cried so hard before, and she doesn’t think she ever will again.

Sanemi and Obanai are on their way back from a long, hard mission. They talk amongst themselves once in awhile, hands grasped and swaying. They’re making their way back to Tomioka’s house, grateful to finally see their lover after weeks apart. Though, they’re worried, undoubtedly so. Tomioka hasn’t sent a letter in days. They wonder if perhaps he has been sent on a mission and hasn’t been able to write, yet. They miss him. They can’t stop talking about him, about seeing him again. Sanemi plans to cook the three of them dinner and Obanai talks of taking Tomioka on a walk.

When they’re only two miles away, there’s a rustle in the trees. Both of them tense. The adrenaline inside them is still pumping, muscles long overworked from slaying demons. They both keep their eyes keen on the tree line. Only, instead of a sneak attack, out flies a crow.

It’s an estate one, not assigned to any specific slayer. It sqwuaks once, then twice, circling above them like a bad omen. Sanemi’s heart jumps into his throat and Obanai swallows harshly. Something’s wrong. They can feel it.

Attention, Hashira! Tomioka Giyuu, the water pillar, has been found dead in his estate!

The world is ripped from beneath their feet. They can’t- they can’t breathe. Their throats are closing up and their lungs are squeezing and nothing feels real. Neither of them move. They’re stuck infinitely in the place they are, where their feet meet the ground. One step in front of a time where Tomioka was still alive and forced to take another step into a time where he is not.

They don’t look at each other. Their hands fall from each other’s touch. They both begin to run.

They are the first to reach the estate. The body.

Sanemi breaks down the front door with a shaky leg and a bruised shoulder. Obanai grabs him by his uniform and drags him inside and they’re both stumbling through the living room. They ignore the silence because they have to, because if they focus too much on it then they don’t think they’ll be able to keep walking.

The kitchen is empty and so are the closets and the patio and the bathroom. While Sanemi is kicking at a closed door in frustration, Obanai’s feet stop in front of the closed off bedroom. He knows what’s behind it. Sanemi does too, because instead of kicking that closed door, he stomps over to kick this one instead. He’s angry, though Obanai can see through it clearly.

“I swear to god, you better open this fucking door, G-..” He says, and then he cuts himself off, because his voice is wavering and he can’t say that name. Not yet.

Obanai twists the knob open instead. He can’t bear the nerves. He needs to see for himself. He won’t believe it if he doesn’t.

Tomioka sits splayed against the furthest wall. His head is slumped over on to his shoulder and his eyes are closed. His hair is untied and greasy and wisps across his forehead. His haori is neatly folded next to him, with his shoes tucked away as well.

His wrists are cut up to his inner elbow. The blood that spills from them has long since dried.

Sanemi drops to his knees and the only way Obanai is able to stay upright is the utter shock keeping him rigid. Silent, hot tears begin to fall. They don’t look away from the body- the body of their lover.

This is how they’re found five minutes later, when the other pillars begin to arrive. Shinobu, Rengoku, and Himejima are first. Tengen and Mitsuri arrive seconds later.

It’s not enough, it feels too empty. The simplest, quietest gasp from Shinobu is what knocks Sanemi and Obanai from their stupor.

They scramble and trip and stumble to Tomioka like there’s still time, like there’s still someway to save him. The rest of the Hashira are stilled in silence, unable to find something to do or say, unable to stop their friends. Obanai grabs at his lover's arms and tries to push the sliced skin back together. Sanemi’s clammy palms grabs at his paper white cheeks and checks his pulse.

When he finds none, he screams. He sucks in a breath and he digs his face into Tomioka’s chest and he screams.

Obanai finally begins to register that the dried blood on his hands will never wash off. He will forever be stained the same way he was stained all those decades ago when they first sliced his lips open. He falls from his ankles to his knees and nestles the palm of Tomioka’s hand to his cheeks with a cry.

The Hashira don’t know what to do. They stand at the doorway and they watch the blood smear and the tears fall. They listen to sobs so anguished that it burns into their memory. Himejima begins to pray but the words are muffled over the loudness of grief.

Getting the cold body away from Sanemi and Obanai proves to be difficult. They lash out and attack indiscriminately at their peers. They draw swords and scream threats and crowd around Tomioka’s body like a lion does a carcass.

Shinobu has to be brought tranquillizers from the butterfly estate. Only after it’s administered do Sanemi and Obanai finally collapse in on themselves.

Mitsuri and Himejima watch over them solemnly as Tengen, Rengoku, and Shinobu wrap up Tomioka’s body in a white sheet.

The funeral is worse than the day of Tomioka’s death, if that’s even possible. The Kamado siblings are finally made aware of the situation, along with the group of friends they acquaint themselves with. The former water Hashira, Urokodaki, is also informed. Genya finds out through Himejima.

The turmoil is immense. Tanjiro is inconsolable. He is barely able to stand upright as he rushes through Butterfly Estate’s doors. Zenitsu and Inosuke are following closely behind him, with Nezuko hiding away in her box. They say they’ve been running for a day and a half straight after receiving the news. That there must be some kind of mistake, that their crow has mistranslated the words, that it can't be true.

The quiver in Tanjiro’s voice when he asks- Is Giyuu-san here? Can we see him?- is enough for Shinobu to break her facade. A tear slips down her cheek as she takes the three boys and the demon girl into a back room where Tomioka’s body lay prepped for the funeral.

The cries that come after she closes the door echo around the entire estate. They don’t stop.

Urokodaki arrives later that day. He’s wearing his mask as he bows to the Hashira, and they bow back. Sanemi and Obanai avoid his gaze. They can’t look him in the eye, they can’t even look in his direction. Hearing his voice makes them flinch. They can’t handle this- they can’t do this- they can’t face the effects of their failure.

Urokodaki asks a question as well, once formalities are finished. Where’s my son? He asks, quietly, hushed. Sanemi and Obanai begin to sob. The former water Hashira joins them.

Genya.... tries. He watches, at first, from a distance. Ever since he first heard the news, He’s been watching. Keeping his eyes trailed on his grieving brother. His ‘Nemi. His sweet, protective older brother who won’t stop screaming his tears and wrecking the training grounds. Genya is scared. He’s completely terrified that maybe this is the breaking point. That Sanemi won’t be able to take anything more after this.

Genya doesn’t say it out loud, but thinks his brother is going to kill himself.

Death, as always, drives people apart. It’s the catalyst, the very foundation of loss. The Hashira are not exempt to this.

Sanemi and Obanai are not exempt to this. Tragedy breeds resentment and resentment only grows. They push each other away. It feels too wrong, too out of place to be together, to be in the same room, to eat the same meal. There’s something missing. There will always be something missing.

There is no messy eater sitting between them at dinner. There is no quiet chuckles during their bickering. There is no half-read book sitting on their nightstand, there is no extra pair of shoes at their door, there is no soft whispers of I love you both before they drift to sleep.

There is no Tomioka. There will never be Tomioka again.

And without Tomioka, they don’t think there can be a them.

At the urgent orders of their master, the remaining Hashira take shifts keeping diligent eyes on the wind and snake pillars. It’s not an order they need- the growing concern among them is enough.

Rengoku and Tengen train with Sanemi. Mitsuri drags Obanai along to a picnic at her estate every other day. Himejima visits them both every morning, meal, and night to pray. Shinobu sits in silence, or watches from a spot in the trees, any chance she gets.

Tanjiro writes to the two pillars daily. He might not have had the best impression of them at first, but he knows loss intimately. He knows they are grieving. He is, too.

Genya reaches out to his brother as often as he can. Obanai, as well. Neither of them often answer the door. But he’s okay with just sitting outside and talking. Even if most times, he’s simply talking to himself.

Despite everything, despite it all, there is a certain truth to the universe. An end is a beginning and a beginning is an end. And Tomioka’s cycle does not end with him. Loss does not end, nor will it ever. it takes and it takes and it never stops taking.

Sanemi kills himself three weeks after Tomioka’s funeral. He lays down at his lover’s grave and sends his crow to apologize to Obanai. Genya is the first to find his body.

Obanai is not a strong man. He never has been. He has lost everything and everyone and he does not know how he’s made it this far in life. He gets the news of Sanemi’s death within the hour. And... he thinks this is it. He does not want to make it any further. Not when he’s alone, not like this.

Fearing for his child, Master Kagaya sends Tengen, the fastest of the Hashira, to the snake pillar’s estate at once.

When he arrives, Obanai is already swinging above a tipped over chair.

The two bodies are later buried on either side of Tomioka. Because there is no them if it is not all three.

The cycle continues.

[mamayan]

Humbly requesting Yobai with Giyuu (he goes to reader), a lil bit of yandere spice appreciated ✨👀

For you Desi? Anything ♡ This man makes me love the color blue~

★YOBAI☆

Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Reader

tw: Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Oral (F) • Fingering (F) • Light Overstimulation • Rough Sex • Light Breath Play • Fluff/Humor

YOBAI Series: Kyojuro, Sanemi, Obanai/Mitsuri

Idea given by @rottmntrulesall and continuously inspired by @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ♡

“I love you.”

He had been too stunned to reply, left frozen like a fool, unable to truly fathom those three simple words. He understood what they meant, but oddly his brain just couldn’t fathom how it factored in him.

You loved him? He wanted to ask you why first and foremost. It left him reeling, because did you mean you loved him like a friend? Did you only love him like family?

Did you love him like a man?

He was moving aimlessly, arms crossed as he stalked the residential streets near his home. His face set in its familiar stoic default, hiding his inner turmoil as his legs carry him down another set of homes.

He’s hardly paying any attention, only reacting to the voice which calls out in the quiet night.

“Tomioka-san? Are you out on a mission?” Colors clash as Giyuu comes face to face with the flame pillar Kyojuro Rengoku.

The man was dressed casually, holding what appeared to be confectioneries from a local shop boxed up in one hand. His gaze was friendly and curious as ever, smile as warm as its owner.

That’s right, Giyuu thought, the flame Hashira had gotten himself engaged had he not? He must have some sort of knowledge of this unfamiliar unfurling within his chest.

It was driving him nearly mad, the way your voice seemed to echo that single sentence on repeat.

“Rengoku-san… you’re experienced in love?” The water pillar’s question struck something weirdly familiar in Kyojuro, as Giyuu moved closer. The dark haired young man looked tired; which, coupled with his expressionless face only aided in aging his appearance.

“Haha! Yes! I am getting married soon!” His boisterous laugh grates on Giyuu’s ears, but he grits his teeth and endures for the sake of figuring all this out.

“Y/N said she loved me…” if Kyojuro hadn’t known the gloomy man for so many years, he might’ve thought Giyuu was scared in the admission.

The flame Hashira just wanted to go home and eat the sweets he bought with his fiancé, not have this conversation in front of his house. His lip twitched, but smile remained as he cautiously prodded further.

“And…?” His smile dropped at Giyuu’s blank face.

“What?” His eye twitched.

“Tomioka-san… did you say anything back?” Kyojuro felt a pang of pity for you as Giyuu shook his head, lips set in a firm line.

“So you just rejected her?” Giyuu’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t reject her…?”

“You did though Tomioka-san.”

Kyojuro wanted to go home, but a strange moral obligation kept him speaking, and for a moment he wondered if his family gave off matchmaker energy.

He’d speak with his father later, for now he focused on aiding his social awkward comrade as quickly as possible.

He felt further conflicted after speaking with Rengoku.

So he spent his free time following you, his thoughts consumed by you, fighting the pull he felt. This couldn’t possibly be healthy or normal, you shouldn’t haunt even his dreams. You respected his space, but every hopeful glance you sent his way sent him spiraling further.

Why did you need to be so lovely? So hard working and dedicated, you spent your days busy and helpful. Giyuu never truly realized how busy a Kakushi’s day could be, but it was possible it was just you.

Were you overworking yourself?

Did you eat breakfast this morning?

You sneeze cutely.

He likes how you laugh.

Your eyes glitter when you see the notes he begins anonymously leaving you, searching anywhere and everywhere, yet never seeing him from his perch in the trees. He likes the game he starts of cat and mouse, amusing himself watching you struggle to figure it out.

You’re quite the detective though, finally bringing out a simple note to show Kocho who recognizes his script.

He still doesn’t reveal himself, avoiding your growing awareness.

He enjoys spending his free time watching over you, dancing around your confession, until someone new appears in your little world.

A male demon slayer, around his own age, asking you on a date.

A romantic one. The sort which leads to engagement and marriage. He nearly pulled his blade, a boiling rage bubbling up and over his top, red flashing through his gaze.

You declined, polite and kind as always, but it didn’t matter. That man spoke to you because Giyuu hadn’t claimed you.

You were his weren’t you? You said you loved him.

Giyuu grit his teeth, face distorted even now as you returned to work and the day faded into night.

Even training was useless, his mind conjuring up images of you with someone else, smiling and directing that soft gaze on them.

His blade came down again, body covered in sweat as he huffs in exhaustion.

It still wasn’t enough. He was trembling from his own emotions attempting to claw through his chest.

He was tired of feeling regret.

The thought of “if I’d only been stronger, arrived sooner, said something” plaguing him until he stood outside your home.

In the middle of the night.

The moon hung as a crescent shining down, surrounded by a sea of stars.

He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, sword still attached to his hip as he moved forward. Gravel crunched under his sandals.

It seemed the closer he got to you, the more agitated he felt.

His hands shaking when he reached the front door, fist clenched and hand raised as if to knock. He froze, realization dawning on how this might look to any nosy neighbors who might be passing by. He slipped around back, away from sight and instead using a side entrance into your home that was left unlocked.

That fact made him uncomfortable as he moved forward on silent feet, his shoes left neatly by the door as he explored in search of your bedroom.

His chest continuing to itch with frustration until he slid the last shoji back to reveal a simple small room. A futon laid in the center where a bundle laid under the covers.

You looked serene, tucked sweetly away in bed and dreaming of something nice if the small smile on your lips was any indication.

He sighed, sitting down beside your bed with one foot propped up to lean on, looking down at you while you dozed.

Almost an hour passed before he grew impatient again, memories of today still on repeat as he tries to calm himself by just looking at you.

Except he didn’t just want to look anymore, he didn’t want to only observe and tease from afar. He wanted to hold you, speak to you, touch you.

He stood silently, taking off his sword and leaning it against your back wall, moving again to stand over your futon where you laid curled in the middle like a sleeping cat. Completely ignorant to his inner turmoil as he kneels before crawling completely over you.

That’s what you awake to, the figure of Giyuu Tomioka looming over you while you slept.

You startle, not immediately recognizing him in your half dreaming state, mouth opening to speak before a hand gently but firmly covers it.

“Don’t scream,” they weren’t very comforting words, your eyes widening fearfully and trying to adjust to the dark room, but it’s the voice which gives your panic pause.

“I just…” he didn’t know what he needed, because it clearly wasn’t just to see or merely touch you anymore. “I wanted to ask if you meant it… back then.” He was grateful the room was dark, his face feeling hot despite the cool air surrounding him.

You weren’t struggling or fighting him, seeming to have realized who he was already. Giyuu released his hold over your mouth, taking in your pretty features painted by dim moonlight with your eyes trained on him.

“I did mean it,” your voice cute and slurred as you sleepily answer, curious and less afraid now that you know who paid you a nightly visit.

Was he here for…? The thought seemed ridiculous, because Giyuu always struck you as a bit reserved, but why else would he be here in the middle of the night asking you about your confession?

You were still tired, but it helped dispel any nerves which might’ve been present had the sun been up. You let your arms raise slowly, as if it might scare the fearsome demon slayer, and wrapped them around his neck.

It pulled him in a little closer, and you could make out his features a little better like this.

His breath stuck in his throat, enamored by your close proximity, your soft sweet scent, and your words.

You meant it.

You wanted him, and while he was overcome with the urge to self-sabotage his happiness and remind you of his flaws, he was stopped by you leaning up.

Your kiss was feather light, just grazing his own for a split second before pulling away.

He chased you though, his own slotting against yours this time, but the force and pressure has you gasping so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

You whined but he devoured it as he pushed the hot muscle around with your own, lighting you with the same passion he was feeling.

He let some of his weight drop, pinning you to prevent you from wiggling away from him, letting his thigh spread your own so he could slot himself in between.

Your yukata was in disarray, so when Giyuu’s groin pressed against your own it was only his pants separating him from your sex.

The feeling of something hard and thick pressing against your slick heat had you moaning, fabric sliding and creating delicious friction against your hooded nub. Shocks of pleasure jolted up your skin, but it was Giyuu’s own groan and pause that disrupted the kiss.

He realized there was nothing beneath your sleepwear, your soft thighs naked up to your stomach, and his own body hiding your slit from his view.

You caught your breath, watching as Giyuu lifted up and moved down your body, fingers quickly digging into the plush flesh of your inner thighs when they tried to close.

“Keep them open.” His eyes are narrowed on the expression of arousal and embarrassment you wear, lips titling up a bit as he smooths his hands down to your ass. “Be good for me,” you nearly choke when he says the words, but you really do when his tongue flicks out right over your puffy clit. Fingers dig into the futon while your eyes lock with his own, ensnared by the lewd show he makes of flattening his tongue and dragging it up slowly through your folds, adding pressure when he feels your legs start to shake.

His languid licks grow more fervent by the minute, his own desperation hastening his movements to lap and suck at your clit, before dropping down to prod your entrance with the tip. Your hips jerk, back arching as you grind against his face, slick coating his lips and chin as he eats you like a man starved.

“G-Giyuu, fuck, please,” it takes him a a moment to realize you used his first name, but when he does he nearly swears aloud.

Grunting when he feels your fingers tangle in his dark hair, Giyuu moves his hand around to press a finger against your tight hole, his tongue not stopping his assault on your throbbing nub. He watches you as he sinks his middle finger inside, the way you twitch and whine, lips parted and eyes heavy lidded as you pant.

Giyuu moans as he sinks deeper inside you, the snug fit around even just one finger as your feverish gummy insides massaged it had his hips rutting into the futon below.

He can tell you’re close, it’s not difficult with the way you buck and pull him closer as he adds a second finger, beginning to stretch you out and pump now.

Giyuu curls his fingers, watching it light you up as you cry out, pretty cunt grinding down and trying to seek even more friction as you tremble and moan.

He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t boost his ego.

It’s when a third finger begins to squeeze into your snug walls that you jerk back, his hand wrapped around your thigh and anchoring your hip keeping you from going anywhere though.

He pauses his movements as you pant, looking at your scrunched features as you adjust to the tiny sting.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slowly sinking three of his thick calloused fingers inside of you, “so lovely and all mine, aren’t you?” His voice has dropped an octave as he lazily pumps his digits, soaked by your arousal and sliding in easier and easier as you relax.

Only when your brows unfurl does he smirk and kiss your inner thigh, sticking his tongue out and dragging it against your skin back to the little bundle of nerves.

The feeling of being so full and his tongue just softly tracing over your clit sends you over the edge.

“I-I’m—hah,” your head falls back as the first wave washes over you, gentle but building. The wet squelching of Giyuu still licking and fucking his fingers into you getting louder, as you realize with a shaky inhale that he’s not stopping.

“Giyuu…!” He tightens his grip, brows furrowing as you break his concentration, intent on absolutely devouring you. You might’ve came but he’s not done with your swollen bud or leaking slit, his fingers leaving your entrance in favor of wiggling the powerful muscle in his mouth inside you. Your core spams around it, cries growing as you nearly rip strands of his hair out in your desperation for relief from his mouth. You can’t break his grip on you, the next orgasm striking you like a slap as you cum.

“Mhn—!” Your burning eyes finally blur as tears spill, the ache inside you releasing as pleasure clouds your mind into oblivion.

Giyuu only stops when your shaking subsides, lessening his ministrations as you come down from your second high.

He doesn’t realize it’s him shaking until your muscles go lax and limp in his hold, his hands trembling with restraint as he drags himself back up to look down at your blissed out face.

It’s so cute it nearly enrages him, his hands quickly taking off his haori and uniform, yanking at fabric aggressively as he tries to free his painfully hard cock from the confines of his clothes.

You’re still catching your breath, blinking your blurry vision away only to see Giyuu’s naked torso draping over you as he unties your belt and fully opens your yukata.

Your eyes have fully adjusted now, able to clearly see his toned pale skin on display. Scars littered his pretty skin, hard planes of muscle a testament to his devotion as a slayer, but his steely gaze isn’t cool like the water breathing he uses. Those dark blue pools are boiling as he looks at your soft nude figure, hands quick to grasp your hips and slide up to your chest.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this…” his solemn and possessive tone have goosebumps erupting on your skin. The feel of his hands are rough as they trail and dance across your breasts, two fingers coming together to pinch harshly at your nipple, pulling a huffed squeak from your lips as you pout up at him.

He smiles at you.

Not a half smirk or tiny twitch of his lip, but a warm smile filled with adoration, and it leaves you vulnerable for his next attack.

He plants one forearm just above your head, leaning close for a searing slow kiss that was downright filthy in how he lewdly moaned into your mouth. The deep sound reverberating into you as you melt further beneath him.

You’re distracted, boneless legs easily pried further open for his hips as he slides closer to you, his free hand letting the reddened soft tip of his cock brush through your soaked lower lips.

You jolt at the sensation, the heat of his body taking you by surprise, but his mouth follows when you pull back, biting down on your lower lip and licking the sting away when you whine.

Then you feel pressure, at first odd but not painful. Giyuu huffs against your mouth as your walls crush the tip of his cock as he pushes in.

“Relax for me, let me in,” he’s fighting hard not to just shove entirely inside you in one thrust. Your warm and soft body leaving his head muddled as he pulls out, before pushing in again, working himself deeper inch by inch.

Your clammy palms find his biceps, fingers digging into the hard muscle as you try to obey and relax for him, but you can’t help when you clamp down with the feeling of being invaded by his burning rod continually shoving into you. He wasn’t outright painfully thick, but his length far surpassed his fingers as his cock pushed your limits before he was fully seated inside, tip pushing up your cervix to fit completely while your legs trembled and tensed around him.

“Y/N,” you didn’t mean to close your eyes, just consumed with concentrating on getting used to him, when a large palm cupped your cheek and encouraged you to look up. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, flushed and heaving for breath just from feeling you squeeze around him, brows taunt as he gazes at you with those softening eyes.

“Am I hurting you?” You shake your head, because it didn’t hurt, he was just stretching you out so much it was leaving you reeling.

He seemed to understand as he chuckles, kissing your temple as his hips slowly drag out of you, each vein on his cock rubbing in his exit. Your nails bite deeper into his skin, your exhale of breath sharp before he shifted and nudged a new spot that made you moan.

“There?” He’s not actually asking you. Not when he sinks back in, watching your every expression while gauging where that spot was.

He brushes it with his tip, the spongey area making you clench and slacken in the same moment, toes curling as the thickness inside seems almost unbearable before feeling so good your own hips rock up to meet his thrust.

“You’re so tight,” his hair has come loose from the ponytail he keeps it in, thick strands tickling your collarbone where they drop, his shoulder muscles taunt with pent up energy as he begins a steady pace inside of you, letting your slick glide him into your narrow hole. His eyes flicking up and drinking in the almost drunk expression on your pretty face, adoring how you both seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

“G-Giyuu,” your panting little moans are speeding up with his thrusts, the room becoming sweltering as your bodies collide, his groin coming flush against your ass with each loud smack of his balls. His hand tangles in the blanket below, gripping the fabric as he concentrates on not filling you up carelessly. His free hand moves up your hip where he’d been holding you, brushing over your sensitive nipples teasingly before gently wrapping around your throat.

One of your hands wrap around his wrist, cautious and curious of why he was holding you like this, but not fighting when he lightly squeezes the sides of your throat.

“Oh,” you moan, voice a little hoarse and softer than usual as you feel your head go light and airy while the intense pleasure inside of you spikes. His cock spearing and bullying your insides as he groans, your pussy only becoming tighter as he restricts your blood flow lightly, watching your fucked out face in fascination. His own isn’t any better but you’re not paying attention, only caring about the bubble expanding inside your belly again, his cock threatening to pop it at any second, his lower half soaked in your slick as it slides down your ass and onto the futon.

“Are you going to cum for me?” His expression is nearly pained as he restraints himself, smirking as you senselessly babble something incoherent but your nails scrape sharply over his skin and help clear his mind. He shifts even closer, forcing himself to hunch over you while he releases your throat and grips under your knees.

You cry out as he lifts your legs up, pressing your knees almost to your collarbone while he drills your cunt, his feet digging into the futon below as he has you in a mating press. His nose nearly brushes yours, so close but far as he grunts and slams into you, the new angle increasing the tightness, your walls milking him while he fucks you stupid.

“Fuck—m’gonna cum, Giyuu!” Your eyes roll back, insides clamping down and seizing around him while you gush, cream forming around the base of his cock while he pants, teeth grit while he focuses on drawing out your release as long as he can. “N-no more, please!” You nearly wail as his cock overstimulates you, still brushing against that spot inside that has you seeing white.

He takes mercy this time, pulling out so quickly your hole is left gaping for a moment as he sits back and grips his cock and works himself fiercely over you, grunting and biting down on his lip while his balls draw up tight and he shoots ropes of hot cum over your dripping pussy and lower belly. Using his tip to smear it over your swollen lips as he groans.

You watch quietly, body still thrumming with euphoria from your orgasm as Giyuu finishes too, looking ruined as he finishes on you before nearly collapsing too.

He lets himself fall to his side, one arm reaching out and dragging you against him despite both your sweaty figures. He holds you tightly while you both calm, your heartbeat slowing as exhaustion takes hold and your eyes droop.

As a Hashira, he’s quick to recover, and while he could certainly stand to take you two or three more times, he instead relishes in the feel of holding you against him so intimately.

You’re asleep in minutes, breathing even as you doze against his chest.

He closes his eyes, letting his forehead drop against the crown of your head, whispering quietly what you fell asleep too quickly to hear.

“I love you too…” he’ll say it again when you wake.

“Thank you,” Kyojuro looks up from the training dummy he’d just destroyed, gaze landing with surprise on the water Hashira standing awkwardly before him, not looking at him.

Giyuu stood with his arms crossed staring off into the distance, reminding Kyojuro of an old man with the sort of serene gaze only the elderly possessed.

“Ah! You’re welcome haha! You took my advice?” His bright eyes widened, quite shocked in truth.

Giyuu merely nodded, turning to walk away having said his gratitude now.

Kyojuro didn’t stop him, still amazed his half-assed terrible advice had actually worked. Unlike his younger brother who was quite beloved and well known by the corps, Kyojuro could care less about Giyuu’s emotional constipation.

He’d told him to stop being a coward and act like a man.

You never did find out that Giyuu’s “night crawling” act was in fact just his strange way of coming to tell you his feelings before he could talk himself out of it and lose you to another.

Your kiss just initiated what he’d been holding back. ♡

Giyuu’s face whenever he sees that other slayer who tried to ask you out.

Post dividers/ @saradika

[catoslvt]

Newt (TMR) x Reader

you confess to Newt as he's a crank.

this is probably gonna be very quick.

As Newt jumps on me, sending me spiralling backwards into the floor, I look over at Thomas, who is standing clueless

"Go get the cure! I can handle him!" I scream, Thomas gives me a concerned look before running off anyway.

My attention is suddenly grabbed again by Newt, who now has a knife. Where did he get it from? I've got no clue, but all that matters is getting it out of his hands.

"I don't want to hurt you." Newt snaps, his tone certainly sounding like someone who wants to hurt me.

"You don't need to, please." I beg, but his eyes have faded over again, and he lowers the knife to hover above where my heart is, but I quickly knock the knife from his grip, and it moves far away on the concrete meaning I'm now gonna need to fight Newt with my hands.

"Keep talking!" Newt screams, his eyes flashing only a slight bit of normality before the flare comes back over him, and he's trying to hit me, so I do what he told me to do, talk.

"I've been in love with you since the scorch trials." I say as my hand connects with his jaw, and he stumbles off me, allowing me to stand up, and as I look at Newt, I realise he landed beside the knife.

"What?" He chokes, and I nod tears at the brims of my eyes.

"When Aris led me to your rooms from the vents, I was terrified to meet you, but somehow, I managed to persuade you to leave WICKED and I fell inlove with you almost straight away, I've never looked back. I've never wanted any other boy the way I want you." I continue to talk as a few tears fall from my eyes, and Newt now stands up with the knife, his step staggering as he approaches me, but I suddenly see Thomas, Frypan, Minho and Gallys shadows about to turn round our corner, so I take a few footsteps towards Newt as he stands and stares, either fighting the flare really well or it's about to take over for good.

as I step closer, Newt opens his arms for a hug, and I can't help but do it, crank or not. I just confessed my love for him.

as he wraps my arms around my waist, I momentarily forget he has the knife until it gets plunged into my lower stomach before pulling out, and I step away with my mouth hanging open, clutching the knives enterance wound as blood pours from it.

"y/n!" I hear frypan scream, but it's too late, I've passed out.

I wake up in a small hut with a curtain as a door confused, where the fuck am I?

I quickly go to sit up, but I let out a huge groan as a pain shoots from my lower stomach, so I decide to take it slower and once I'm sitting up, I kick my legs off the bed and stand up, grabbing onto the wall for support before I slowly make my way out the room.

Okay, where the actual fuck am I.

there's tons of people here, mainly people my age or younger who are all walking around, there's huts, there's hammocks and there's even Gardens.

Gardens. Newt.

Newt.

the thought of his name brings a huge pain towards my stomach, and I groan and almost double over, but Aris sees me and rushes over.

"You're up!?" He exclaims and I nod confused.

"Where are we?" I ask, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry as though those three words took away all my willpower.

"The safe haven, a real one this time." He answers, gently grabbing my wrist as he begins to steer me to what seems like a kitchen, and when we walk in, frypan is cooking up dishes.

"Morning shuckface." He says with a small smile as he raises his eyes momentarily to fall onto me.

"How long have I been out for?" I ask and both Aris and Frypan shrug.

"A week or so? Newt got banned from your hut because he was constantly in there speaking to you, Vince thought he was gonna wake you up." Frypan answers, and my eyes almost bulge out my head

"Newt?" I gasp, and they both nod, confused.

"After you passed out, Thomas managed to give him the cure. It worked quite quickly, except there's still dark veins in places." Aris tells me before pointing over at Frypan.

"Can y/n get some water and a sandwich or something?" Aris asks, and Frypan nods, turning around and rummaging around in his make shift kitchen.

I sit alone at the edge of the beach, eating my sandwich and ever so often taking a few sips of water.

"How was the sleep?" The all too familiar voice of Newt asks with a slight laugh as he sits down beside me, but I don't turn to look at him, because the last time I saw him I confessed to him only to get a knife plunged into my stomach.

"Fine." I respond and listen, I'm not too pissed about the knife thing, I'm just scared in case he can remember what I told him.

"Nobody ever told me that turning into a Crank means getting memories back." He sighs, and I turn to look at him, Frypan was right, there is still some dark veins, but it's better than what he looked like as a crank.

"All of them?" I ask, and he nods.

"I remembered Sonya from your maze is my little sister, only her name was Elizabeth back then." He first of all starts, and I gasp slightly.

"I remember every shank from my Glade before we got sent up." He begins listing little things that must mean a lot to remember.

"I remember you." He then states, and I gasp a bit.

"we would've been held separately. How can you remember me?" I ask.

"Minho, Alby, Thomas, Teresa, and I used to all sneak into a maintenance closet somewhere in the WICKED building. One day, we walked in, and there you were, as innocent as ever eating a chocolate bar." Newt tells me and we both laugh slightly.

"From that day forward, you joined us every night in the closet, and I knew from the very first moment I saw you that I'd do whatever I could to protect you." He goes onto say before frowning.

"But I couldn't. You told me you loved me, and i stabbed you." He mutters, and my eyes widen.

for fuck sake did he need to keep those memories?

"we don't need to talk about that Newt, you got the cure, and you're fine, and my stomach is healing. It wasn't your fault." I say as I reach one of my hands over and grab his hand with mine giving it a small squeeze which he returns.

"I tried so hard to fight the flare, even momentarily to tell you that I love you too, tell you that from that closet I knew it was always gonna be you." He tells me, and I look into his eyes, really confused, what did he just say.

he loves me too?

he's joking.

he has to be.

maybe he still has the flare.

"What?" I finally ask, and he nods.

"I love you y/n, I always have." He states, and I smile widely.

"I love you too!" I exclaim, and he kisses me, being gentle with the movements to not hurt my stomach.

[forever-rogue]

let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.

joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.

he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?

you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂

AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you. 

You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.

He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. 

“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”

“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”

“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”

“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.

“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”

“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”

“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.

“Surprise it is.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.

But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.

A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway. 

And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him. 

You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade. 

It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up. 

Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too. 

“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”

“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”

“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”

“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”

Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”

“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.” 

“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”

“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”

“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”

“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”

“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”

“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”

“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow. 

He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -

“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”

“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”

“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”

“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”

“I made these reservations three months ago-”

“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face. 

“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”

“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”

You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”

“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”

“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”

“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”

“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”

“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”

Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”

“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”

“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”

“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”

“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”

“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you. 

“Are you going to go with me?”

“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you. 

“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”

“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”

“I love you. So much.”

[deadhands69]

cursing each other over and over again [1/3]

MDNI

Super fluffy but eventually it gets smutty.

Toge Inumaki x cursed speech reader (not quite the same as his)

Warnings/content/etc: Toge Inumaki x reader, fem-bodied/no pronouns, unestablished relationship, swearing.

AU: Jujutsu University, all characters aged up.

This is part 1 ; part 2 - part 3

Text key: 🖤 You 🤍 Toge

Since you can remember, your cursed energy was always hard to control. Sure, you could speak logically but the moment a hint of emotion leaves your lips, you feel the curses spilling out. Laugh, and everyone laughs with you. Mumble one angry comment and you take out half a city block. That’s how you ended up here, being placed in this class with a small handful of other jujutsu sorcerers in training.

First day of school; maybe you’ll make friends? It’s a very small class. Sinking into the only empty seat in the room, they all begin introducing themselves. Maki. Panda. Yuta. Everyone but the light haired boy seated next to you who waves and mumbles “kelp.” 

“Hi, I’m [y/n].” you say to everyone, before looking curiously at the interesting boy to your left.

His amethyst eyes lock onto the curse marks wrapping around your lips (**photo at the bottom.) You’re used to it. Everyone does that. Then, he slides his phone to you.

🤍 [you can use normal words???]

Looking back up, he partially unzips the front of his jacket to reveal marks of his own. They’re cute, you think, noticing how they line up with his dimples when he smiles. He’s cute.

You open your mouth to speak but feel the cursed energy ready to give you away. He’s too cute.

🖤 [well, not now]

🖤 [my cursed technique uses my emotions. so I CAN speak just not anything emotionally charged]

🤍 [why not now?]

Your fingers fumble to reply. What are you supposed to say, “hi random nice stranger I just met - I can’t talk to you because you’re hot?” No, that won’t work. And you don’t want him to think he offended you so you have to say something. Que the spiral.

Dias ex machina: Gojo, the eclectic teacher who brought you to this school, makes an abrupt entrance.

Phew. 

After class, the blonde boy slides his phone to you with a blank ‘add contact’ screen open. You try not to think too much into it - he’s in your class and it’s the easiest way for you both to talk. While you input your contact info, he rejoins the rest of the class joking about something. They’re laughing hard when you slide his phone back in front of him. As you’re walking out the door, he texts while catching up to you.

🤍 [hey!]

🤍 [it’s toge]

🤍 [so why can’t you use words now?]

Shit. Shit. Shit.

🖤 [just nervous, first day of class and stuff]

It might be in your head, but he looks slightly disappointed that he’s not the reason you’re nervous. He nods.

🤍 [oh, got ya. well, if you wanna hang out later let me know] 

You reply without thinking.

🖤 [yeah, i’d love that]

🤍 [come by my room at 8?]

🖤 [see you then!]

Fuck. What did you just get yourself into? Being around attractive people has never gone well for you. Of course you've had crushes, who hasn't. It’s fine, as friends for a little while but the moment you utter a single word without thinking, you feel your cursed energy fly out on accident and they never want to be around you again. You can’t blame them. Maybe spending time with him will be different? It’s not like he can speak freely either. He has to understand, right? Plus, he’s just being nice because you’re new so there’s really no pressure. On the other hand, with such a small class it would be really awkward to fuck up and alienate yourself from one of your classmates. Especially when they all seem so close. Maybe this time it'll be different, you hope.

Before you know it, six hours have passed and you’re nervously standing outside the door of Inumaki’s dorm room. You’re still not sure how you can talk to him but hopefully in a more chill setting, your nerves will calm down and it’ll be easier.

Knocking a few times, you hear “(((come in)))” and you find yourself opening the door and stepping inside. You laugh, it’s weird being on the other end of that. (plus, hearing his voice makes you giddy - so much for easy and chill feelings.)

Toge sits cross-legged on the floor in front of a Mario Kart loading screen. He’s not wearing the jacket from earlier so you have a clear view of his neck. And arms. He didn’t initially strike you as the type to workout a lot but he’s definitely athletic. As he shifts his weight turning to you, every muscle in his arm tenses. He’s like the skinny version of a Greek god with a perfect face to match, there's absolutely no way you can actually talk to him now. 

You opt to smile, wave, and sit next to him. 

He hands you a controller before texting: 

🤍 [still not talking to me?]

He smiles. Happy to see he’s not offended, you can keep it playful.

You send him the “why are you so obsessed with me” Mean Girls meme. Fortunately, he laughs and you’ve successfully dodged the question again.

Hours go by and neither of you have felt the need to use words, just glances and faces when the other throws a banana or passes you. It’s comforting. 

You notice the way he leans into you, every time he turns in the game. Skin brushing warmly against your own. After a while, you get used to the controls and he gets bolder - throwing an arm in front of your face, bumping you over, etc so he can pass you.

On the last lap, you use a booster and overtake him. He responds by throwing all of his weight into you, leaving you both a tangled laughing mess on the floor. Cursed energy seeps out in your laugh, but that’s fine. It’s harmless and isn't making him do more than laugh harder. Besides, he used his technique on you earlier too so you don’t think he minds something this mild. 

He does mind that you’re coming into the final stretch and still ahead of him though. Having dropped his controller in the commotion (that he created) earlier, he resorts to the first impulsive thought that comes to mind. “Hmmmm!” you manage to hold back, swallowing your words when his bite connects with your arm. Close one. Is he flirting or just that competitive? Probably competitive. Yet, he’s still laughing and throws his hands over your face in one last attempt.

Not bothering to sit back up, you keep your hands on the controller, pulling through the finish line to beat him for the first time all evening. His hands slide off your eyes and you both sit up, much closer than you were before. Watching the cute characters bounce on the screen, you’re amused: this has to be the most dangerous activity happening on all of campus. If either of you slip-up, there goes the neighborhood. You text him this.

🤍 [DEATH BY MARIO KART]

🤍 [nah you’re too cute to be mad at so i wont say anything. even if you cheated]

“(((Hey!)))” your sudden words are playful, but knock him back nonetheless. He smiles at you, still not caring. You extend a hand to pull him back up, mouthing ‘sorry.’

Then it hits you. 

He thinks you’re cute??

You re-read his message, to be sure you aren’t imagining anything. 

Yeah, he really said that.

So he was flirting? Or something like flirting?

🖤 [wait. is that why you asked me to hang out?]

To be fair, it’s part of why you wanted to hang out with him - but it would be nice to get clarification on his end. Wouldn't want to act like it was a date if he was just being nice and meant cute in some other way. Watching his hands type, you really hope the answer is yes.

“Salmon” he says out loud before the text shows up.

🤍 [you were staring at me blushing for half of class too so i thought we were on the same page?]

🤍 [plus, I had to ask]

🤍 [my friends were all taking bets on if you’d actually show up to my room]

They what? That last text hits like a ton of bricks and he sees it on your face.

So, he’s just hanging out with you to prove to his friends he could get you in his room? This is probably the joke everyone was laughing about before you left class today. First day and you’re already the joke. That’s disappointing, he seemed cute and nice. Now class will be awkward. You press up to leave. Seeing your face, he realizes how you took it.

“Caviar! Benito flakes!” he yells waving his hands before pressing your shoulder, urging you to sit back down. Confused, you stare at him before the onslaught of texts come in.

🤍 [no no no nononono not like that]

🤍 [i said you’re cute because you are cute]

🤍 [i asked you to hang out, because my friends said i’d be stupid not to]

🤍 [well Panda and Yuta did, Maki said you’re too hot for me]

🤍 [and i think Panda just wanted to watch me take an L]

🤍 [but Yuta thought i had a chance]

🤍 [so they all bet on it]

🤍 [and pushed me to ask you today]

🤍 [otherwise i probably would have debated it for a while]

🤍 [i still would have asked]

🤍 [just probably not today]

🤍 [but i really wanted to hang out with you]

🤍 [and Yuta thought i had a chance]

🤍 [besides, even if they were wrong and you didn’t think i was cute, it would be cool being friends]

🤍 [like with another cursed speech user]

🤍 [this shit sucks sometimes]

🤍 [i kinda figured you understood]

🤍 [it’s nice being around you]

He tears his eyes up from his phone to look into yours. He looks sad and desperate to be understood. You know that feeling well. 

There’s a bang on the door and you hear a woman’s voice “I never thought I would say this to you, but can you keep it down in there?? You’ve been banging around all night laughing now you’re yelling?”

“(((go to bed Maki)))” Toge yells at the door.

🤍 [fuck]

🤍 [she’s gonna kill me for that tomorrow]

🖤 [i think she’s just mad she lost the bet]

He smiles slightly, still looking concerned.

🤍 [are you okay?]

🤍 [i promise i actually like you]

🤍 [not just for the lolz]

🖤 [i think so]

🖤 [i had a lot of fun with you]

🖤 [it just sucks being the butt of the joke on the first day]

🤍 [oh]

🤍 [you’re not]

🤍 [me getting someone to like me was the joke]

🤍 [which is fair i guess]

🤍 [but it made me even more nervous]

🖤 [you were nervous?]

🤍 [you're pretty]

🤍 [and you can use more words than me]

🤍 [i thought so, at least]

🤍 [what am i supposed to say to you?]

🖤 [i get that]

🖤 [i was so nervous too]

🖤 [i have no game] 

🖤 [i can’t even talk to you]

🖤 [your friend was right tho]

🖤 [i do think you’re cute]

**not my photo, but here's what i think your curse marks look like:

part 2

[weirdmorefics]

Hello, hope your doing well. Could you do a Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader and she gets overwhelmed at a ball which makes her she zones in/out and Anthony plus the family are really worried because they’ve never seen her like this before? Have a good day/night 💙

A/N- I am doing okay just turned 21 woot. (even tho I hate birthdays because they equal change.)

Pronouns- She/Her

Warnings- Anxiety, Shutdowns, Dissociation,

Word Count- 825

Summary- Basically what the ask says

Life Preserver

This ball was particularly loud and crowded, I don't think I had ever seen so many people in my life before let alone all in the same room. Every noise felt weighted I could hear the clink of every dish, the misstep of every dance, the clink of every heeled shoe. I wonder if this is a normal event for Anthony. I grew up in a small village and only came to London for my introduction to society. I can't say I am used to events like this but it certainly did not seem so crowded at my coming out.

Anthony had been coming and going conversing with others. I felt much like the odd one out. Yes, I wore the clothes and I am married to a wonderful man but I still feel like that country girl who shouldn't be here, especially with this huge crowd. I fiddled with the seams of my gown and searched the crowd for any of the Bridgertons but they all seemed involved in one activity or another. I lingered by the table of pastries and cakes as if I could blend into the wall behind them like a chameleon.

Others tried to introduce themselves to me because I was now a Bridgerton. I had never had a status like this before I was a nobody in my town. Yes, I love Anthony but I do not love the popularity that comes with being his wife. I would respond with a smile that did not meet my eyes and a handshake. It felt like Anthony had left me for hours but I think reality it was only a few minutes.

Anthony arrived back with his mother and sister Daphne. I felt relieved to see their familiar faces but I still felt like was not in my own body.

Anthony looked concerned at my vacant eyes and put a hand to my shoulder, "Are you okay darling?"

I smile and tilt my head to try to act oblivious like I am strong like I should be, "I am fine."

My husband clearly sees through my ruse because concern seems to grow even more and his sister furrowed her eyebrows.

"You don't seem like yourself Y/n," Daphne says her tone full of worry.

I blink my eyes tight trying to come up with a convincing lie but nothing seems to come to mind. I feel so far away like my mind is off swimming in the Atlantic but my physical body is stuck here at a ball. A normal ball! Why can't I just be normal or at least act normal? If not for me at least for my darling Anthony.

Anthony taps my shoulder breaking me from my intense thought spiral. I finally make eye contact with Anthony, and his eyes look full of worry, making me feel even worse for interrupting the festivities.

He wraps his arm around my waist, "I think she needs some air. If you will excuse us." He does not wait for any response and guides me to the garden.

Once the cold night air hits my face, I feel like I can finally breathe even though I wasn't holding my breath to begin with.

"Darling, what is the matter? Are you ill?" Anthony grabs my face and presses his lips to my forehead, "no fever."

I suck my bottom lip trying to prevent the tears that I know are coming soon.

" I am fine Anthony. I am so sorry for worrying you so much," I try to wave him off.

"There is no way you could convince me you are well Y/n. I have never seen your eyes so vacant before," before I can look sad about that comment he quickly grabs my hands and holds them tightly. "You are always so full of life your eyes are like looking into the sun, they are my favorite thing about you! We will not be leaving this garden until you tell me what is wrong."

I sigh, I can't avoid not telling him my feelings because he truly will stay here all night his stubbornness is admirable but also utterly a nuisance. "I am just not used to events like this… I don't think I have ever seen so many people in one room. I-I really did not want to disappoint you. I truly tried my best but I felt like I was drowning."

Anthony brushes my cheek with his hand, "Darling I wish you would have told me. You could never disappoint me you are always my life preserver from my disobeying siblings to calming me from my anger. Let me be your life preserver to your drowning seas."

The tears that I have been holding in finally come out as I take a deep breath, " I will let you be my life preserver if I will always still be yours."

"Always," he smiles and places a chaste kiss on my lips.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get a Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that has regeneration like an axolotl due to it being the fools body?

Like during the ending of the route or during a fight post route Mc loses a finger or an arm and as their recovering they notice it growing back and like a few weeks or a month later it's like they never lost it to begin with. Due to how they view themselves and the fools body making them look like how they ses themselves.

Similarly to how Lucio lost his arm so long ago his metal arm is just a part of him so when he took the fools body it come with the metal arm.

(Let me know if it's not a good Hc idea and I'll change it for a different one.)

The Arcana HCs: When MC can regenerate their limbs

Julian

His first thought is "I have to keep them away from Valdemar"

His second thought is more along the lines of a very intrigued medical scholar. He's dying to figure out exactly how this works - how does your body know what to form and where??

His third thought definitely bears his younger sister's influence, because it's the sleep-deprived, melodramatic theatre kid version of "twinsies!!!"

Yes, twinsies! Because now you're one of the only other people in the world who knows what it's like to have crazy regenerative abilities! (though, he gave his up, but still -)

Will chart the growth of the limb and regularly ask you if you got any new injuries that day (obviously he hopes the answer is no, but if it's yes he has multiple reasons to want to know now)

Occasionally thinks himself into an anxiety spiral worrying that he's treating you too much like a medical phenomenon and not enough like his beloved partner. A round of smooches will take care of that

Asra

Honestly? They're more relieved, than anything

He is uncomfortably aware of the level of responsibility he has for yoinking you back to this plane of existence and knowing that you have this safety net for physical injuries is very reassuring

That said, they're still very curious about just how far it goes (not that they'd ever try to find out)

May or may not add "lizard" to his list of pet names for you, because lizards are also cute and known for losing limbs and then regenerating them for self preservation reasons

May or may not study just enough of the magic involved to suggest trying to grow said limb to be ... different than the previous one. You could grow an arm of neon tentacles!

May or may not regularly use body paint to turn your slowly regenerating limb into some kind of illusion, like a large, funky looking hamster hanging onto your shoulder (with your permission)

They love you regardless of how many limbs you have

Nadia

To say that she is intrigued is an understatement. She is borderline obsessed with your slowly reappearing limb

Much of that has to do with her desire to provide for you and the duty she's given herself of making sure that you are taken care of

Plenty of that has to do with what an excellent excuse it is to initiate touch and general affection

But a good portion of that is because, while she can tell you're a unique case, it's the kind of ability that would do so much good if she could find a way to recreate it even a little bit

She's not going to ask you to do anything unreasonable, but she might suggest allowing lead researchers in the medical field to chart your progress and study it in case they find anything

On another note, she does love to make you feel and look your best. If you've lost an arm and your outfit has gloves, you'd best believe she's ordering a mini one for your tiny hand

Pulls out old baby jewelry to try on it while it's small

Muriel

He's not going to lie, he does find it just a little disturbing

He's not going to go as far as saying that it's unnatural (he knows of plenty of creatures who can do the same thing) but it's definitely not a normal thing for humans to do

It's far outweighed by his gratitude that you're able to heal from such difficult injuries to this extent. He likes your limbs :)

He's also terrified of accidentally ruining whatever unforeseen magical force is allowing your body to manifest itself back together

You're clearly already very good at losing limbs! He doesn't want to make you lose another one! What if it's like one of those budding flowers that's really sensitive to touch?

He doesn't want to find that out the hard way! What's he going to do if he reaches for your mini-hand and the rest of your mini-arm comes with it? Stick it back on??

The above freakout is happening on the inside. On the outside, he's avoiding that area of your body and being very protective of it

Portia

It goes without saying that she thinks this is pretty cool

First off, you lost a limb, which is badass by default, and now you're completely regrowing it on accident - that's amazing!

She does casually mention that she is curious about just how far your body can regenerate itself at one point, but that's just idle wondering unless it's something you want to look into too

Fascinated by your mini-limb while it's growing back

Comes up with a whole list of pet names for it (squishy, tiny, silly, mr peach, miss millie, The Growth ...) but she mostly sticks to referring to it as your baby

"Good morning MC! And good morning squishy! How's your baby growing?" (all this is said while she hands you your preferred morning beverage and rubs the affected limb like it's a belly)

Overall she's so adaptable that she kind of ... forgets that it's weird. At least, until someone else sees it for the first time

Then she'll tell them it's because her shrink ray missed

Lucio

Seriously?

No no no no no -- SERIOUSLY?!?!?

He's been living with a prosthetic limb (albeit a really cool one) for TWENTY YEARS NOW, and you just randomly start growing yours back just like that? JUST LIKE THAT?! NO!!!

He's not mad because he thinks you don't deserve it! You do deserve it! You saved the world without having to make a life full of criminal oopsies first, and you did it while you rehabilitated him!!

He's mad because even if he doesn't deserve it more than you do, he wants it more than you do! WHY DIDN'T THE ARCANA OFFER HIM HIS ARM BACK, HUH?!

(This is a very good point at which to tell him that you think the metal arm is attractive. He will quickly switch gears into crooning and flirting at you and rarely bring it up again)

He does often comment on its growth patterns, and has definitely made an innuendo or two about it for funsies

[newrochellechallenger2019]

mmm imagine punishing art by staying silent during sex.

he loves when you're loud, when you can barely breathe between your moans, only he can make you like this, when his cock slams into the exact right spot that makes your toes curl, or when his tongue flicks over your clit and sends you spiralling into orgasm, moaning his name over and over.

but today he messed up, he blew his match against Berkeley...again, and you can hardly look at him as you both walk back to his dorm.

'Baby please-' he begins, his voice pleading.

'He beat you in straight sets! How does that even-' You cut him off, pissed.

He hangs his head in shame, 'I know, I'm sorry, I just got in my head.'

You fold your arms over my chest, 'I thought you were getting better at not letting that happen.' You say firmly.

'I thought I was too...' he says despondently and your heart aches a little.

He looks up at you then, eyes wide and submissive. 'Can I make it up to you?' he says softly, undisguised hope in his voice.

You consider his request, this normally works, he'll fuck your brains out and you'll forget why you were ever mad at him.

You sit down on the edge of the bed, shifting your thighs apart slightly as an invitation, 'Come on then' you coax gently as he all but scrambles to sit at your feet, gazing at you hungrily as he tugs your shorts down your legs and tossing them aside.

He shuffles forward, kissing your thighs, 'so pretty...so fucking pretty' he murmurs between kisses, before biting down hard on your inner thigh.

You yelp in surprise and he looks sheepish as he licks the bite mark soothingly, returning to kissing up to your panties.

He looks up at you, eyes wild with lust and a devilish smirk spreading across his face, 'all for me?' he teases, fingertip lightly brushing your pussy through your granny panties, since you hadn't planned on fucking him today.

'Funny' you deadpan as he pushes them aside, his nail brushing over your clit and you shudder.

He smirks wider at your reaction, feeling prematurely victorious.

He lowers his head again, hands digging into your thighs as he laps at your entrance teasingly.

You stifle a whimper as he continues, tongue swirling around your clit eagerly.

He looks up at you for a brief moment, confusion growing in his eyes before he slips his tongue into your entrance and you jaw clenches as you fight to stay silent.

He seems undeterred as he tongues your g-spot and you arch your back, still refusing to make a sound.

He starts to fuck you with his tongue more aggressively, eager to incite a single noise from you, but you lips remain firmly pressed together.

He whines then, pausing to look up at you pleadingly. 'Baby...come on...you know i love your little noises'.

He takes his middle and ring finger and presses them into your entrance, watching intently for a reaction, 'Please...I wanna hear how much you're enjoying this' he whimpers as his fingers increase their pace.

'Come on...i can feel how much you're enjoying it!' he whines as your walls clench around his fingers and your head is thrown back.

He adds a third finger, desperate to push you to climax, knowing you'll moan for him then and you inhale sharply.

A slow grin spreads across his face as his fingers curl against your cervix and your eyes flutter closed.

'Baby...I know you want to...' he coaxes, fingerfucking with renewed vigor.

Your legs start to shake, a sign you're reaching climax and his tongue flicks over your clit eagerly.

A moan slips out as you cum, 'Oh fuck...fuck...fuck', gripping his hair as he continues to finger you through your orgasm, slowing until he removes his fingers, a overjoyed look on his face as he licks his fingers clean.

'I'm the only one who can make you moan like that, aren't i?' He says, eager for praise.

You pant as you come down from my high, 'Yeah...yeah you are.' you smile dazily as he stands and captures your lips in a kiss.

'Not cool by the way' He teases playfully.

You laugh, 'It worked...one of the best orgasms i've had.'

[awkward-sultana]

5 Times Joel Engaged in Minor PDA + 1 Time He Engaged in Major PDA

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Implied smut, use of Y/N, medical terminology and mentions of medical conditions (child death/miscarriage, head injuries) and operations (stitches,) injuries, drinking/alcohol, cursing, mentions of death, guns and shootouts, PDA (mostly kissing), panic attacks, unwanted advances from minor male characters.

Summary: Joel Miller has always had a bit of trouble with PDA, but he's learning.

I. You loved Jackson, loved this new normal you had never even considered possible in your 30 years of life. You had only been 10 when the outbreak happened, all scraped knees and tangled hair, giggling over notebooks and glitter pens. Now, after losing your entire family, being expedited through an intensive medical training program, and trekking across the country with a feral 14 year old and a loaded gun of a middle aged man, you felt about 100.

Here, in Jackson, surrounded by laughing children, smiling parents, and a wall that seemed to keep out the rest of the world, you felt like maybe you could discover some semblance of the normal you had before.

Even you, Joel and Ellie had bloomed into the little family you dreamed of having on those warm nights when you couldn't sleep for the sound of death in the distance. It had been rough, the three of you settling into your small home in Jackson, especially between you and Joel. It had all culminated one night in a screaming match in the barn between the two of you when, like you knew he would, he tried to run away, afraid to lose another family. You had told him to leave and never come back, so goddamn angry he would abandon Ellie like that, make her lose another person when you had both promised her you'd give her a good life with two people who loved her. Joel had left, shattering your heart and sending Ellie into a spiral that resulted in quite a few fist fights with older kids. Thankfully, she had had Dina to ground her. You had no one. You didn't let Ellie see your heartbreak after he rejected you, didn't let her take on the weight of someone else's world again. Joel had ended up returning a week later at 3 AM with soft words you didn't know he was capable of, promises to never leave again, and a ring you didn't pry about, not wanting to know where he got it. You had forgiven him almost instantly like the lovesick idiot you were, but it took a few days and a few rancid curses and half hearted shoves from Ellie before he found forgiveness from her.

Now, your normal was beginning to lay a foundation. Ellie was attending school, Joel had found his footing as a handy man and patroller, while you were at the medical clinic, using your medical education from one of the last remaining hospitals in the US and learning from the more experienced doctors already set up in Jackson.

Things were as perfect as they could be. Except for one or two things that irked you a little bit. Most specifically, Joel's complete aversion to PDA. You were young, pretty (of course you were pretty, you looked like your mom and your grandmother), and had a growing appetite for physical affection now that you found a man who spoke to every part of you. Joel, on the other hand, struggled quite a bit with physical affection in public settings. He was affectionate in private and had no problem keeping up with you behind closed doors, but out in public...let's just say, people were honestly shocked when they found out you were a couple, and not just because of the age difference.

While it was something you had long ago made peace with, you still found your mind wandering down other avenues of possibilities, such as now as you finished putting away the last of the files at the clinic. It was Friday afternoon and the clinic was closing early because there were no patients on the schedule and it was the first day of fall, so everyone wanted to get outside while the sun was still up and enjoy the beautiful weather before the winter chill settled in. The other staff had taken off before you, eager to go and be with their families. You were happy to stay behind and close up, as Ellie was staying after school to help out with one of the teachers and Joel was on patrol until late.

"Need any help?"

Cursing hysterically, you whirled around at the sound of a male voice behind you. Greg, one of the farmers stood in the doorway, having the courtesy to look bashful for scaring the hell out of you.

You took a moment to catch your breath, putting a hand to your pounding heart and letting out a startled laugh. "Jesus. Sorry. No, thanks, Greg. I appreciate it but this is all confidential information. I'm actually almost done anyway."

He grinned and you had to admit that he was handsome. "Is anything really confidential in Jackson?"

You laughed again, seeing his point. Nothing was private in such a small town. Sometimes 300 people felt more like 30. "Even so, I know at least four people in these files who would be pissed if anyone besides their doctors saw their medical information."

Greg held up his hands in a well meaning acknowledgment of defeat. "Totally understand. I actually have a question for you."

More than used to having citizens pull you aside and bashfully ask for medical advice, you set down the stack of files in your hands and turned to fully face Greg, your stethoscope swinging on your neck.

"Sure. What the problem?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

You blanched, but recovered quickly. This wasn't the first time a man in Jackson had asked you out since you had arrived in Jackson, and you were sure it wouldn't be the last. Greg was the second this week. Of all the gossip that seemed to travel around Jackson, the fact that you weren't interested in dating didn't seem to be part of it.

You pasted on what you called your 'patient smile.' "I'm flattered, Greg, but I'm not really looking right now."

He chuckled. "I'd be careful with that. Pickins' are pretty slim here. Wouldn't want to find yourself runnin' out of time." You pursed your lips and narrowed your eyes, not impressed by his not so subtle implication that you were already over the hill at 30 years old.

"I'm actually not too worried. Again, I'm flattered, but I'm not interested." When Greg took a step closer, you instinctively backed up further into the room. You didn't know if he was purposefully being intimidating, but you weren't a fan either way. "Any way I can change your mind?" he asked.

"She said she wasn't interested."

You jumped at the deep voice coming from the doorway and Greg turned, neither of you having heard Joel come into the clinic. He stood in the doorway, his rifle slung over his shoulder and his brow furrowed deep. In his heavy boots and heavier coat, he looked even bigger than normal.

"Hey, Joel," Greg chirped, somehow unaware of the menace in the room. "I'm just chatting with y/n here. Thought you were on patrol."

Joel was walking through the room this time, sticking to the perimeter, his eyes not leaving Greg. "Horse started limpin'. Doc Jetson's takin' a look at her." Joel had made it to your side and had angled his body toward you, the front of his coat brushing your shoulder. He looked ready for a fist fight. You were just shocked he was being this obvious about getting close to you in a semi-public place.

"Well," Greg continued, somehow missing the obvious body language of the two people in front of him. "I was hoping to talk y/n into changing her mind." A bright, boyish smile. "Got any tips?"

"Don't think it's going to work out for you this time, bud," Joel responded, no longer looking at him. He was now reaching very deliberately across your chest and pulling the stethoscope from around your neck and tossing it gently on the counter next to you. "You ready?"

You nodded, still baffled at his behavior. His hand on the small of your back sent a thrill up your spine and you allowed him to usher you past Greg, who was staring at the both of you with raised eyebrows.

Outside, the sky was frosted and there was a glorious bite in the air. You had been in the clinic all day and the sharp temperature change made you shudder and wrap your arms around yourself.

Joel looked down at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You bring a coat?"

"No, Bev Lanson's daughter fell out of her bed and needed stitches in her scalp at 5 this morning so I didn't get to grab one."

"And Ellie said she never saw you at the mess hall for lunch."

You grimaced at the chiding, but a glance at Joel showed his mouth was quirked up in amusement and he was shaking his head. "Hold this." You only just caught his rifled as he hauled it over his shoulder and plopped it in your arms to take off his coat.

It was heavy and warm as he settled it around your shoulders. You grinned like an idiot as you held it around your shoulders and leaned into him. While he didn't put his arm around you, he let you lean deep into his side as you walked through the town.

II. You exploded out of the clinic, making three women who were headed to 5 AM morning patrol jump and look at you like startled deer, their rifles clattering together as they stumbled against each other. You ignored them and Dr. Hansen's voice behind you as you stormed down the steps and down the road toward the barn.

Your chest was tightening. Your lungs were constricting. Your heart was a hammer in your chest. You were having a panic attack. The first since you got to Jackson and the first in months. Your last panic attack had been when you though the fireflies were going to tear Ellie's brainstem out. Flora's baby hadn't made it. Only two months left on a seemingly health fetus and she had miscarried. Jackson didn't have the equipment for an operation, so you had done your best to stem the bleeding, then held her as Dr. Hansen finished up. She had been bawling so hysterically you thought she was going to pass out and you were the only person she would let hold her.

It was the first time in Jackson that something had felt so truly hopeless. Was this the future here? Watching people die? You had come to Jackson to escape that and now you wrist deep in the blood.

You sucked in a violent breath as you approached the sheep pen, a new sense of panic settling in when you realized breathing was getting more difficult.

In...Out...In...Out.

You closed your eyes and repeated the mantra in your head as you leaned against the rails of the paddock, gripping the splintered wood in your palm.

"Y/N?"

Starting violently, you whirled around and ran straight into Joel's chest. When he grabbed your arms to steady you, you jerked back, your body defaulting to fight or flight. He held fast, pulling you back into his chest, even as you shoved at him.

"Calm down, honey. Take a breath. Just like you taught me."

You closed your eyes again and took another deep breath, but it only whistled through your lungs in a weak gasp. Gripping the lapels of his thick coat in your hands, you tried again, shutting your eyes tight and bending your head in concentration. Joel took a step forward until the top of your head was pressed to his chest. After a few more deep breaths, he cupped your face in his callused hands and pulled your head up to rest your forehead against his heart. You listened to the strong beat beneath his sternum and the soothing words he murmured into your hair, felt the bite of his zipper against your palms and the scent of hay on his flannel.

After what felt like a lifetime, your breathing returned to normal and your heart resumed it's regular beat.

"There, honey. Good. Good."

Pulling your head from his chest, you opened your eyes and stared up at Joel's bearded face, his eyes creased with worry but strong with resolve. Leaning forward, you buried your nose against the exposed patch of skin beneath his shirt and took a deep inhale. The two of you stood like that in comforting silence until you cleared your throat and pulled lightly at his grip. He let go of your face, but cupped your shoulders and pulled back slightly to look down into your eyes.

"What happened, baby?"

You cleared your throat again. "Nothing. I mean...I'll tell you later. I have to get back before Dr. Hansen finds me and calls me a pussy." A grizzled old army surgeon, he didn't take lightly to what he perceived as weakness.

"I'll walk you back."

That took you a bit by surprise, but you wouldn't say no. One of the first things Joel had ever told you when you met - after nearly blowing your head off - was that he didn't do comforting or coddling. He had gotten better, but he was always visibly uncomfortable.

He didn't press any further as you walked down the road back to the clinic, but he reached his hand out to brush it against yours and eventually tuck it into his own.

You took another deep breath when you got to the porch of the clinic, bracing yourself for Dr. Hansen's inevitable speech.

"You sure you're okay?" Joel asked again.

"Yeah," you answered, not actually lying this time. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks."

Before you took a step forward, he took the back of your neck in a gentle grip and laid a long kiss to your temple.

As you trudged up the stairs, you turned and gave him a sultry look over your shoulder. "You can just talk me through anything, can't you?" You squealed and laughed, jumping through the door as he reached out to pinch your ass.

III. "Hey!

When Joel didn't immediately turn around, you looked around for something to throw at him. Spotting a bucket of freshly picked apples, you picked one up, tested the weight with a little toss, then hurled it at the back of his head.

He turned immediately, looking every bit the grumpy old man as he glared at you and rubbed the back of his head.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You didn't answer me."

"I didn't hear you."

"Hence the apple."

Joel rolled his eyes as he picked his way through the sheep he had been corralling into the paddock. Slipping yourself through the gaps in the fence, you leaned back against it and gave him an innocent smile.

Crossing the paddock, he fixed you with an exasperated but amused look. "What do you want?"

"What do you want for dinner tonight?

He snorted. "That's what you threw an apple at my head for?"

You rolled your eyes in response. "Ellie left for that nature trip with her class this morning so we can make whatever we want." For a feral cat of a child, Ellie could be surprisingly picky.

That seemed to peek Joel's interest. "Hmmm. How about steak and potatoes?" You grinned, having started prepping this morning knowing he would choose that. "Perfect."

You stood in companionable as Joel got the sheep settled and fed. You piped up again, "Ellie won't be getting back until Sunday night."

"That's what I heard."

"And neither of us are on shift this weekend."

"Yeah, 'bout time."

"I wonder what in the world we'll do all weekend."

Joel shrugged, your innuendo flying straight over his head. "No clue. Probably catch up on the sleep I haven't gotten for the past 20 years."

You rolled your eyes. "Joel...Joel." His head shot up from the stubborn sheep he was trying to push around with his knees. "What?"

"We're alone for a whole weekend, with no reason to leave the house, for the first time since we got here and all you can think about is sleeping?"

It took him a long moment, but then his mouth turned up into a sly smile and he maneuvered around the sheep to stand in front of you.

"Did you have something else in mind, darlin'?" His broad hands settled on your hips.

You pretended to think. "I'm not sure. Sounds like sex isn't on my husband's mind half as much as mine. Plenty of other single men to choose from--"

You squealed and laughed when Joel plucked you up off the ground and sat you down on the top rung of the fence. You hooked your feet around the bottom rung and clutched his shoulders for balance. He squeezed your hips and gave you a narrow eyed look, oblivious to the stares you had garnered. "Brat. Try it and I'll suddenly remember how to brawl."

"I've seen you brawl at least ten times since I've met you."

"Should've seen me in my twenties."

You squeezed his shoulders, kneading your nails into the thick material of his coat before murmuring quietly, "All I care about is that you know how to brawl with me." Joel groaned and hauled you down for a long, desperate kiss to your mouth. Turning, he tried to adjust himself as discreetly as possible before walking back out into the pen. You remained on the fence for a little while longer, heart glowing every time Joel walked past to give you a peck on the knee and a sultry look that promised many things.

The two of you turned in about three hours early that evening, your carefully prepared steak barely touched.

IV. "Where'd you get that dress, y/n?"

You turned away from the carrots on the counter to Ellie, who was flopping down the hallway of your home with her usual puppy-like grace.

"Oh, Mrs. Sawyer made it for me for delivering her new grandbaby. Do you like it?" It was short and airy, made you feel feminine and beautiful after spending day after day in scrubs. It was unseasonably warm today, probably the last warm day before fall fully settled in. "Yeah, I like it a lot," she answered as she swiped a carrot off the counter.

You gave her a side eyed smirk. "Want me to ask her to make you one?"

Ellie blushed and sputtered. "What? No! No way! I mean...I'm okay. Seriously. Where are you going?"

"Maria, Leslie and Megan invited me to the bar. And no I'm not sneaking you a beer."

Elli glared and grumbled something as she headed to the front door, trying and failing to dodge the hand you reached out to ruffle her hair. As you turned back to your food prep, you heard Ellie say hello to Joel as he walked into the house, heard his answering grunt of greeting. The door closed behind Ellie and you heard Joel stride across the wood floors until he was standing right behind you. You shuddered when he traced his hands lightly up the sides of your thighs, inching the dress up your legs. "I like this dress," he rumbled, laying a long kiss to your hair.

"Yeah, me too. Brenda Sawyer wanted to pay me somehow." He was pressing in tight to you now, cradling your hips back against his, your dress above your waist now. He nuzzled another kiss to you hair. "I'll have to thank her. Where you headed all dressed up?"

Your grip tightened on the hilt of the knife as he slowly kissed down your neck, his hands kneading your hips. "Tipsy Bison with Maria and, um, some other women. Drinks." Joel gave your hips a squeeze one final kiss to your shoulder before pulling away. "I'll go with you." You looked over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He raised an eyebrow right back. "Yes, really. Why is that so shocking?"

You shrugged and went back to chopping carrots. "No, it's just you've never gone with me before. I guess you're usually on patrol." He struggled being idle.

"First time for everything. What time you going?"

"I was thinking about 30 minutes?"

"Plenty of time."

The knife was pushed out of your hand and the carrots swiped to the side. You shrieked and laughed when Joel whirled you around, shoved your dress back up your hips, and plucked you up onto the counter. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders as his mouth found yours.

A quick 20 minutes later and narrowly avoiding a second round, you two were walking into Tipsy Bison, which was already in full swing. Joel had walked a little closer to you than normal, his fingertips brushing the hem of your dress as you walked. After a brief brush of his hand on the small of your back, you went your separate ways in the bar, you heading toward a booth with the women who had invited you, and Joel toward his brother and some other men he often found himself paired with on patrol. As much as you would have liked to stick by his side all night, you were happy he was trusting people enough to make friends. Despite the fact that he fucked you hoarse nearly every night, you felt a bit like a proud mom sometimes.

As the night went on, the drinks flowed and the laughter became louder. The warm weather seemed to settle in everyone's bones and everyone was on the small dance floor, from the 70 year old carpenter shuffling with his three toddler granddaughters to the fifteen year old girl shyly asking her classmate to dance. You and your friends had made your way out to the floor as well, your drinks sloshing onto the floor as you laughed and danced like teenagers. When a slow song came on and the lights dimmed, the string lights on the ceiling coming on, you began to make your way back to your booth, but a warm hand on your wrist stopped you. Turning, you found Joel standing behind you. You frowned in confusion. "You okay?"

He frowned right back as he tugged you toward him, pulling your arm around his shoulder and sliding his other hand across your waist. "Does something have to be wrong for me to dance with you?"

Smiling big, you tightened your arms around his shoulders and pressed tight to his front as his callused hands settled on your hips, massaging your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. "Joel Miller knows how to dance?"

He chuckled as you both began to sway to the beat. "I never said that." Grinning back, you massaged the nape of his neck and nuzzled you cheek against his shirt, closing your eyes and listening to the strong pulse of his heart. When the song ended, he wrapped your hand in his and led you back to the bar, shouldering through curious looking patrons. Maybe it was the whisky, but he was handsy for the rest of the night, pulling you between his legs as he sat at the bar talking with some of the other guys from his normal patrol, his arm around your waist as he laughed and sipped his whisky. Around midnight, it was you who tugged on his hand and informed him it was time to go. You only made it around the back of the bar before your dress was around your waist for the second time that night.

V. It had been a long, busy day at the clinic. All the doctors and nurses were called in to treat all sorts of injuries, allergies, bites, coughs, stomach aches, bloody noses, etc. By 6 PM, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, but a pile of charts was waiting for you and you had already been hounded twice about being behind. Scrubbing your hands over your eyes, you reached for the folder at the top of the file.

"Y/n?"

You turned as Maria came into the clinic, red cheeked and huffing like she had run there.

"Yeah, hi, what's wrong?"

"It's Joel. Sally's gun went off close to him, grazed him on the side of the head. He says--"

You were already shoving past her and sprinting down the road, your heart hammering beneath your ribs. You heard Maria call after you then curse, but you didn't stop, dodging people and moving past the guards through the now open gate.

The patrolmen had stopped a few hundred feet from the entrance. A few had dismounted their horses and were gathered around someone with their head down. "Move," you ordered, putting every ounce of hard earned medical authority into your voice. The crowd parted and you saw Joel standing there, his head bent and his gloved hand prodding at a serious laceration at the side of his head. Your heart flew into your throat as you stopped in front of him and pulled his hand away from his head. "Stop doing that," you snapped.

Joel rolled his eyes but did as he was told, letting his arm fall to his side but keeping his head bent so you could take it in your hands and turn it this way and that. You cleared your throat, not fully trusting yourself to speak, but knowing you had to nonetheless. "Decent laceration, nothing serious. Worse than it looks. Few stitches should be fine."

"Can you make it to the clinic, Joel?" Tommy asked, earning an irritated look from his big brother. "Yes, I can make it back to the damn clinic. She didn't blow my head off." Then he turned back to you. "And what are you doing out here without a gun or an escort?"

You gave him a furious glare. "Don't start. C'mon before you faint." With that, you turned on your heel and strode back toward the gates. There was some shuffling and mutters before you heard the group following behind you.

You got back to the clinic a few minutes before them and grabbed the suture kit, laying it all out for when they arrived. Hearing heavy boots come up the stairs and Joel tell Tommy to "get off me", you turned in time to see Joel poke his head in, then quickly duck back out. You came to the door. "What?"

He cleared his throat, looking a little green. "It...It smells. I'm gonna be sick if I have to go in there."

"You're nauseous?"

"Yeah, I guess."

The anxiety flared back up but you slammed it back down. "Then your head wound is worse than I thought. You might have a concussion. Fine, sit down on the bench."

He did as he was told, this time not yelling at Tommy for guiding him with a hand to the elbow. He sat down with a grunt, pulling off his gun and disarming it.

"Ya'll good here?" Tommy asked and you nodded. "Yeah, I'll patch him up and put him to bed."

"I don't need-"

"Be quiet."

Joel scowled at you and then at Tommy, who didn't bother hiding his grin before turning away toward Maria, who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

You unloaded your kit in silence, cleaning up the dried blood before running a lidocaine pad over the cut. It really wasn't too bad, but it was over his old scar and would be tricky to suture at the angle you were now at. After a few minutes, you very gently prodded the skin around the cut. "Feel that?"

"No ma'am."

"Good, tilt your head to the side and don't move or I'll sew your ear to your head." You heard him chuckle, but he once again did as he was told. Stepping closer to him, you angled his head to the side. You were so focused you almost didn't notice his hands come up and begin massaging the backs of your legs in slow, sweeping motions from the tops of your thighs to the back of your knees. When he got close enough to your backside to make you shudder, you gave his hair a little tug. "You're distracting me."

Joel only hummed in answer, his eyes closing almost in relaxation, as if you weren't sewing his head shut. His hands settled at the backs of your knees, his forehead resting against your chest as you finished up your work. He didn't let go of you immediately, instead pulling his head up and resting his chin between your breasts, blinking lazily up at you. You let yourself wrap your arms around his neck and stare down at him, the forceps and scissors still in your hands.

"You were shot."

"Yep."

"Don't let it happen again."

His mouth curved in an amused smile and his hands squeezed your knees. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now go to bed."

He seemed to open his mouth to object but you cocked your eyebrow in a withering glare. Sighing, he stood with your help, gave you a chaste peck on the head, and grabbed his rifle before moving off toward your home.

+ I. "Wait, so are you and Joel actually, like, married?"

You blinked at Maria's question. You had never actually never been asked that before, as most people didn't even know you were together. You often wore the ring he gave you, if not on your hand, then on a thin chain around your neck, and you had never bothered getting a ring for Joe, as you wouldn't even know where to get one. You did refer to him as your husband and he told you he thought of you as his wife and referred to you as such whenever it came up.

When you were younger, you had, of course, had the girlhood dreams of a big white wedding and a storybook marriage, but when the virus struck, it all seemed so trivial. Now...you weren't really sure how you felt.

"I mean, I guess not," you finally answered with a shrug. "Never really considered making it official."

"What're you two yappin' about back there?"

Both you and Maria flinched in your saddles when Chet barked back at you, nudging your horses faster to keep up with the rest of the patrol. They had been short a man today after Will sprained his ankle, so you volunteered to step in since the clinic was slow and fully staffed. Joel had groused about it, but you were excited to go beyond the walls for even a few hours. And nothing had happened on patrols in months, so you weren't particularly worried.

"Do you want to make it official?" Maria prodded when the two of you got a little closer to the rest of the group, but still far enough back to have some privacy.

"Again, never really thought about it. We've just been getting settled and making sure Ellie gets settle." Another shrug. "It just hasn't been a priority."

"Do you want it to be a priority?"

You gave her a hard side eye. "What's with the sudden investment in me and Joel's relationship? When we got here you didn't even like-"

"RAIDERS!"

Your stomach dropped, panic barreling up your spine into your heart as chaos ensued. Shots rang out and people shouted as horses screamed and reared up in surprise. You scrambled for the gun at your hip, pulling it out just in time to get a raider in the knee and finish him off with one to the head. More shots sounded, closer this time and there was another cry of pain as eleven more raiders closed in.

Pain burned through your arm and you cried out, dropping your gun, which went off as it hit the ground. Your horse reared up in surprise, sending you out of the saddle and sprawling to the ground. When your back met the grass, the pandemonium faded away, overwhelmed by a deafening ring as your head snapped back on your spine and your brain slammed against your skull. Groaning, you tried to breathe through the pain.

It all came roaring back when a massive weight fell into your gut, pushing the air out of your lungs in a massive below. The unblinking eyes of the raider sprawled over you stared back at you and you heaved him off with a grunt. Pushing to your knees, you just avoided a riderless horse as it galloped past you, back toward the commune.

There was still shouting, gunshots, shrieking horses and grunts of pain. As everything came back into focus, you managed to reach out and grab a raider by the ankle, sending him sprawling onto the ground in front of you. He turned onto his back, eyes wild as he leveled the barrel of a pistol between your eyes...

His head snapped back and his gun dropped from his hand, his whole body going limp from the bullet in the back of his head. Blinking against the sun, you could see the group of people running from the direction of Jackson, each of them stopping sporadically to steady themselves and fire off a shot. It was Joel who slowly lowered a rifle aimed in your direction, his eyes wild and his chest heaving.

The group was on you in the next second, falling on the last remaining raiders as they attempted to escape, leaving their dead behind. You hadn't made it to your feet yet, the pain in your arm screaming even as the pain in your head receded. It was Joel who finally hauled you up despite your cry of pain when he grabbed you under the arms.

"What is it? Where? Where does it hurt? Show me! Show me!!" You had never heard him sound so frantic as he ran his hands roughly over your body, unzipping your jacket to look for blood on your shirt.

"My-My arm. It's my arm."

His hands became gentle as he took your arm in his hands and cradled it for Dr. Hansen as he bustled over with a medical kit.

"Just a flesh wound," he said gruffly. "Let's get her back to the clinic. You'll need quite a few stitches. Thank christ you're the only injury."

Joel rounded on you, taking your other arm in his hand and placing a hand on your back to guide you back toward Jackson with the rest of patrol following close behind.

An hour later, you and Joel walked out of the clinic, your arm freshly stitched but still burning in pain. Joel had watched over Dr. Hansen like a bear until you thought the two of them would come to blows. You were exhausted and just wanted to shower and sleep forever. Joel had been quite since you had gotten back and you had a feeling he would blow up when you got back to your house, ban you from ever going on patrol again, and sleep outside your bedroom door with his rifle.

"Joel," you finally prodded as you stepped onto the porch of the clinic, his back to you as he stared out over the town, hands on his hips. "Are you okay?"

Silence.

You sighed. "Joel, will you please--"

"Let's get married."

You blinked, not sure if you had heard that right or if you had rattled your brain more than you thought.

"I'm sorry?"

He turned to face you, his face completely serious. "Let's get married. Right now."

"Joel, what are you--"

He strode toward you and cupped your face so tenderly you could have cried. He let out a trembling breath as he leaned his forehead against yours. "We should have gotten married the day we got to Jackson. It didn't seem important then but now...I didn't know why."

You reached up to grip his wrists. "It doesn't matter to me if we make it official in any way or any of the legal stuff. Is that what's bothering you?"

"You could have died today."

That realization settled into your stomach for the first time and you barely suppressed a shudder. "I could have."

"We've both almost died a hundred times since we've met, and every day I wondered...would they have buried us next to each other? Would anyone have known that we loved each other after we're gone?"

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless, enamored by this man who made you weak.

"I just..." he took a shuddering breath. "I-I love you on purpose. And I want everyone to know. I want you to know."

You opened your mouth once. Twice. "I...okay. Yes. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"TOMMY!"

His shout sent your brain reeling again and you nearly fell as he let go of your head and whirled around.

Tommy poked his head out from behind the horse he was leading to the barn. "Yeah?"

"Where's Pastor John? Y/N and I are getting married."

"What?"

"Pastor John? Where is he?"

"I heard that part." Tommy had abandoned the horse to a passing woman and headed over, his face comically confused. "You're getting married?"

"Yeah."

"Right now?"

"Yes! Right now!"

Joel had grabbed your hand in his and was pulling you down the stairs toward the church.

"I...okay." Tommy trailed behind the two of you, cupping his hands around his mouth and calling out for Pastor John. You had drawn a crowd by this point, Jackson citizens wandering out of the buildings and murmuring excitedly as Joel beat a warpath toward the church and you stumbled after him, grumbling at Tommy to stop yelling before you punched him.

Finally, Pastor John appeared out of the mess hall, adjusting his glasses and straightening the collar of his flannel like it was a full cassock. "What's all the hollerin' about?"

"Y/N and I are getting married," Joel stated as he came to a stop, causing you to run into him with a grunt. "Right now."

Pastor John blinked and looked at you as if for confirmation. You leaned into Joel and nodded happily, the reality of the situation finally beginning to settle. You were getting married. Joel wanted to marry you. And he wanted the whole town to see.

"Ah, okay," Pastor John finally said, adjusting his glasses again. "I guess we should head on over to the church."

The mass of people at your back grew with every step you took through the town until you were all 300 of them were tittering like school kids behind you.

"Move! MOVE! No, you get out of my way. Y/n!"

You turned in time to see Ellie shoulder her way through the crowd until she was at your side, her chest heaving like she had personally shoved aside all 300 people to reach you. She stared up at you with huge eyes. "Were you really going to get married without me?"

You cupped her face in your hands. "Baby, I didn't even know I was getting married until five minutes ago."

"Can I be your bridesmaid?"

You laughed. "Of course." She gave you a massive grin and threw her arms around your middle, holding you tight and you could hear her sniffling against your chest.

Twenty minutes later, every citizen in Jackson, from the oldest to the youngest, had squeezed into the small church with you and Joel at the front with Pastor Joe, Elli standing behind you holding a handful of daisies she had ripped from the ground outside the sheep pen.

"...I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

You expected a small, chaste peck on the lips, but Joel took your face in his hands and swooped down to take your mouth in a kiss so intense you had to grip his shoulders to stay upright. The church exploded in applause and cheers and Joel pulled you back upright, giving you one more chaste kiss before giving you the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. Taking your hand in his, he walked you down the crowded aisle.

He never let go of it again.