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divinepoints · 1 day ago

Text

the heart of the matter.

pairing: john walker x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: kind of vague suicidal ideation that's not ever acted on. john is a dick. reader is also kind of a dick. bucky meddles. so much swearing in here your toes might curl. i've never done a reader-insert before so i'm bad at this. this is me showing you my metaphorical fanfic dick please respond

a/n: as hinted above, this is my first foray into the reader-insert game. constructive criticism is welcome but if all you have in your heart is haterism please keep the thoughts inside. exes to lovers kind of except the ending is vague. follow up definitely possible. i don't really take requests but you're more than welcome to drop some thoughts/ideas in my inbox and if inspo strikes i will oblige. uhhh that's all i think? john walker girlies rise. stalking the tag is what brought me to this.

(also, not edited because i can't be bothered since this is all in good fun)

You had never thought that life would lead you back to John Walker. Or perhaps, that life had led the both of you back to each other. After all, this had been your world first.

You’d been an unfortunate accident long before anyone thought there would be a need for a successor to Steve Rogers. It wasn’t really worth recounting, given it happened as so many things did, something in a lab went wrong, and it broke you. Okay. Maybe broke wasn’t the word. It had changed you into something simultaneously greater and far worse. Whatever. It hardly mattered at this point. What mattered was that it was odd someone from your small, bullshit town had become an Avenger, odder still that it had been you. You hadn’t thought there was anymore odd to go around.

(You were deeply, deeply misguided.)

It had never truly been decided amongst you, Bucky, and Sam whether John had been picked partly because of you (John himself would insist it had nothing to do with it). Bucky was one-hundred percent convinced it had been done on purpose. It’s easier to swallow, he’d said, because people know how close you were with Steve, and since you and Walker have… a past.

Calling it a past was generous. You’d dated in high school, when you were a little dumber and he a little less obnoxious, then he’d enlisted and you’d gone off to college. It was an almost entirely expected and underwhelming end to what had been a classic high school relationship. It was hardly a past, it had really just been growing pains. With Steve, however, it was an on-again off-again situationship that felt far too juvenile at your big age, but had gone unexpectedly public.

So now you were the woman who had dated not one, but two Captain Americas, even if you were quick to insist that John had been little more than captain of the football team at the time. The general public had eaten it up when John was given the shield and still now, while Valentina was parading around her so-called New Avengers. A grave misnomer, you thought, considering this wasn’t exactly your rookie year. It was a hard pill to swallow.

Yelena insisted that you all as a team owned Valentina. You thought it felt a little bit like the other way around. At the same time, you knew it would take all of five seconds for you to tear the entire charade apart. As withdrawn as you were from, well, everything since Thanos, you knew you still held enough public interest that you could get on a stage and rip Valentina to shreds and end it all. But you couldn’t. There was just something about the strange little group that tugged on your remaining heartstrings.

It had been a fight, at first. Sam had been furious, but it had weighed far more heavily on Bucky than you. At the very least, you could look Sam in the eye and remind him that you had been around before the Avengers were even really a team. You’d been part of Nick Fury’s cobbled-together collection of misfits that could hardly be called a group, let alone a team. Sam might have been Captain America, but you were essentially the only original left. Tony and Natasha were dead, Steve was old, Clint and Bruce had families, and Thor was somewhere of in space doing… well, whatever the hell he wanted to, you supposed. You remained, heavy with loss and silently happy to see another group of misfits learning to stitch themselves together. Even if this time it was much, much messier.

Still, you resented the government control, and that John was involved.

You took it upon yourself to constantly remind him that he was only still around because you tolerated it, which he hated. It wasn’t that he was your ex, though you loathed to call him even that. It was that he’d take Steve’s legacy, tried to turn it to dust, and was still clinging to it. He insisted he was doing what he could with what he had, you insisted he could do better, and so the carousel turned.

The only argument he ever won, not that you’d ever admit it out loud, was when he reminded not just you, but everyone that he’d had you first. There was no argument against the truth. Even if you could insist that you were more serious with Steve (you weren’t), or that you’d loved Steve more (you weren’t even sure you’d been in love with Steve at all), it all circled back around to an undisputed fact: John Walker bested Steve in approximately one race and it was having you.

He had brought it up again, and you knew it was because he was feeling sensitive about something. You were fed up, and had snapped back a scathing remark you’d only ever thought before. You know, you keep bringing that shit up and someone might start to think you’re in love with me. You hadn’t said it because you thought there was any truth, but because you knew it would piss him off, because you were taking the one thing he could hold over your head and turning it back around on him. Bucky had openly laughed, which certainly hadn’t helped things, but John didn’t give into the fight you were expecting.

It gnawed at you all night and then began to worry you in the morning. You’d only ever known him to snap and give into baser instincts. Even in high school when he could have been called more mellow he’d always been ready to throw a punch or two. No response you’d ever seen from him consisted of steely silence or any kind of restraint. Though you wanted to take it as a sign of personal growth, you were more inclined to think it was something much worse. You imagined a brewing rage eating away at him like acid, and you had to wonder when it was going to boil over.

It wasn’t until Bob, sweet and generally unconcerned with John, mentioned it that you decided it was time to do something about it. Haven’t seen Walker all day, he’d remarked about the second most loud and imposing member of the team. Ava remarked that she was pleased with the development, but even Yelena looked disturbed. Alexei could not have cared any less as he shoveled Wheaties into this mouth, but Bucky… Bucky had leveled you with a look that suggested he thought something needed to be done too. That was the straw, you supposed. You might have been able to fight your own instincts about it, if Bucky had not looked at you like that, like he thought this might really become a problem sometime soon.

You sighed heavily and lifted yourself off the couch with a dramatized effort. Bucky indicated downstairs in the direction of the gym rather than above to the quarters where you all had your personal spaces. You briefly wondered if you could convince Bucky to have a man-to-man conversation with him rather than leaving you to make nice with your most irksome teammate. Ultimately, you realized that Bucky likely would rather put himself in the ground. Annoying, emotionally-constipated super soldiers were really fucking your life up.

(Pot, kettle, Bucky would probably insist, even if you were more super and less soldier.)

Inside the gym, you found yourself realizing that other than you, John and Steve had something else in common. They both liked to treat punching bags like they’d been done great personal offense by every one of them. Even in his occupation, you knew he noticed you. Or, at the very least, he’d noticed that someone had joined him.

“Your absence is troubling Bob,” you stated simply.

He didn’t pause his assault on the bag, but he did choose to switch sides to look at you. “I doubt it.”

“He said he hadn’t seen you all day. Mentioned, therefore noticed, therefore…”

“Therefore you drew straws and you’re the unluckiest of the bunch?”

You wished you’d drawn straws. “If only that had been part of the equation. No. Believe it or not, I figured this is mostly my problem.” You left out the fact that Bucky had too. John didn’t have anything to say about that, but he did pause and begin to unwrap his hands, preparing for what you also imagined was going to be a very tedious conversation. One that, apparently, you were going to have to take the reins of. “I’m more than willing to fight this out, but just know I’ll wipe the floor with you.” He didn’t take the bait. “Seriously, what the hell is going on? You’ve been on my ass since day one about what feels like fifteen million years ago, but I make one comment and you’re— you’re…” You had no clue how to finish that sentence, but you certainly weren’t going to apologize for anything.

He finally opens his mouth to actually say something, but it’s far from anything you’d have expected. “Does it really bother you that much? Thinking about back then?”

It was a pivot you hadn’t been expecting and it left you floundering for something to say. Did it bother you to think about? No. No, what bothered you was that it was constantly brought up in the context of being a thing to have been had, or a measure by which to pick who could have the shield. What irked you, was that John kept bringing it up like you were some kind of trophy rather than a person. Otherwise, as just something that had happened, as a relationship you had, there were fond memories if you didn’t apply the present-day John Walker of it all.

“It’s not important,” you decided to say, rather than admitting that he was constantly tainting what had previously been a genuinely pleasant example of what a first love could be. “It was forever ago, but you keep bringing it up like it’s another medal on your chest.”

And of course he zeroed in on what affronted him most. “Not important.” He was muttering to himself, mostly, but you heard it. “Just, you know, half of the sum-total of all my relationships in life. Not important.”

And that irked at you, when he’d gone onto have a wife and a kid and a brief white-picket-fence life that you’d probably never get to see because everyone in the world looked at you like some kind of commodity. A weapon to save the world, a face to plaster on tv and advertisements, a figurehead to say hey, look, this group must be good!

“My god, John,” you snapped, “you have a family. What the hell does some bullshit high school girlfriend matter? We were both nobody back then.”

“Because the family thing worked out so well for me,” he retorted.

“That was your own fault and you know it.”

A low-blow and you knew it, but you’d never be able to understand why he wasn’t constantly fighting tooth and nail to get back to them. You knew he missed his son, often caught him looking at photos that he’d gotten from somewhere. You weren’t sure if Olivia was doing a kindness and sending them, or if he was finding them by less-than-legal means, but you knew he looked at them longingly and still did nothing about it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, always fucking everything up.”

You exhaled frustratedly through your nose. This was not going how you’d planned. It had gotten far more hostile than you’d intended. “I’m not trying to dog on you.” Though it would have been so much easier, if you were being honest. Which, you weren’t being, you knew. Being honest would have meant just telling him that you were tired of being a referred to as a possession, and how every time he brought it up, it felt like a reminder that even your pathetic high school partnership was the closest to serious you’d probably ever be able to get. “But you’re the one who brings it up like it’s a joke, not me.”

His head snapped to you, gaze torn away from the mindless packing of his gym bag. “I’m the one making a joke out of it? You’re the one who wants to act like it never even happened.”

“Because you’re the one ruining it.” You weren’t yelling, not really. But the whole thing was striking a sensitive chord that you’d never intended on even acknowledging. “You’re the one acting like I was a trophy you had and then threw away. So excuse me if I’m not looking back with fondness at being a thing.”

“I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.”

If he was being serious or purposefully obtuse, you weren’t sure. Realistically it could have been either. He might have trying to turn the tables on you, to move away from his nearly twenty-four hours of petulance that you were supposed to have been addressing. Or, maybe he really didn’t know that he’d been biting away at decently pleasant memories ever since he decided to try to be Steve. Maybe he was just that ignorant. And maybe you were kidding yourself in thinking he hadn’t been your first love, even if he hadn’t been the great love of your life. Yeah, you would perhaps admit in the deepest recesses of your mind, maybe that was a big part of it all.

Regardless, it was becoming exceedingly clear that perhaps neither of you were in the proper mindset for this conversation to go anywhere. John’s ego was clearly too bruised from your brief ribbing to think of anything beyond how things affected him, and you were just… well, you supposed you’d been hurting too much about everything for far too long.

At least you could tell Bucky you’d tried.

⊛

Another team was falling apart before your eyes, which meant you weren’t sleeping. Or, at the very least, sleeping as little as you could without being plagued by memories turned nightmares. So maybe that was why you were particularly sensitive, which was perhaps why you felt like bursting into tears all the time.

It had been a shit week, though, so you were giving yourself some grace. You’d allow yourself tears if they really wanted to come, if you even had any left.

The tension with John had gotten worse, and now there were sides to it all. Bucky was on yours, unequivocally, always. The rest of the team flip-flopped back and forth depending wholly on mood or which one of you had pissed them off more that day. Bob was the only one who sat entirely neutral, though you were certain that the whole thing was stressing them out. And all of it was, albeit on a much smaller scale, reminding you of years ago which made the whole thing more unpleasant.

In the end, it made you wonder if you were still cut out for this.

Losing another team would break you, you were sure of it. Even if it was a patchwork team filled mostly with people who grated on your nerves like it was a full time job, losing it would break you. So, you were kind of thinking it was time to remove yourself from the situation. Retirement wouldn’t have looked so bad, if you weren’t going to be alone in all of it.

That all being said, it had not been a good decision to think about it all in Tony’s old tower, looking to space from the spot he’d built to land the suit. Valentina had called it good optics, but you thought it was more bittersweet memory. Things had been good here, then bad, then good again, and then nothing. Now it was… well, you weren’t sure what the hell to call it because everything reminded you of something else. Everything reminded you of them and it damn near tore you to shreds.

Yeah, you were really beginning to think that you weren’t cut out for this anymore.

Bucky appeared from a dark corner as he so often did, and you weren’t sure if he was trying to joke when he asked, “Do I need to be worried about you?”

Either way, you knew it was a lie when you said, “No, just can’t sleep.”

When you looked at him, you knew that he knew you were full of shit. So, it was like that then. He sighed heavily and stretched out on the floor next to you.

“I’m going to stay here until you talk to me.” You knew he was serious, unfortunately. You’d uttered the same words to him years ago when Steve had you and Sam chasing his tail. “Or until we decide to kill Walker.” You looked at him sideways. “I’m mostly joking. But I did catch him drinking milk out of the carton again, so.” He shrugged as best he could while horizontal.

“This is not John,” you said. At least, not entirely. Sure, the tension still grated on you, but it only really served to point out how much everything started to bother you when a single element went wrong. One piece out of place and all you could think about was everything you’d lost. “It’s— it’s this whole fucking place, Bucky. I don’t think I can be here anymore.”

“This doesn’t work without you,” he says firmly. “You leave, this whole thing falls apart like a house of cards. I’m sorry, but it’s true.” You couldn’t help but think that was bullshit, and the way you looked at Bucky conveyed as much. “I don’t do this without you. Already told you, where you go, I go.”

The worst part was you knew he would. If you left, he’d follow just like you’d stuck to him like glue after Steve left to chase happiness. Steve might have said until the end of the line, but you and Bucky were the ones holding the rope. But even though you thought the team could pull themselves together without you, you also knew they had no hope of doing the same without him.

“I can’t lose another team,” you admitted. Even with the admission you held back. Your natural, instinctual follow-up was that it had almost killed you last time, but you knew from your time in Bob’s void that it all still haunted Bucky. He still blamed himself for splitting the Avengers. “This is too good for you— all of you, for me to ruin it with all my bullshit.”

It almost looked like Bucky was considering it, the way his brow knit together and his eyes squinted ever-so-slightly. So, it took you by surprise when the man who’d been flying by the seat of his pants so recently looked you dead in the face and said, “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a plan.”

⊛

You did not think Bucky’s plan was a good one, nor did anyone else. When he remarked vaguely about switching some things around and off-handedly mentioned bonding, you had not expected to end up here. This was what you got for hearing him out. Goddamn fucking nonsense.

“This is elaborate joke, yes?” Alexei asked.

“I look like I’m joking to you?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“I think we all wish you were,” Ava retorted.

Yelena nodded and added, “This is going to get someone killed.”

If Bucky’s plan was to unite you all against his asinine games, he’d succeeded. Nobody was sure how he’d convinced Valentina to fork out the funds to reserve an entire camp usually used for corporate retreats, but he’d done it. It was a forked tongue of an idea, really. It got you out of the government-funded press tour that was previously scheduled, but it also meant a week with only each other doing trust falls or whatever other crap white-collar idiots did to encourage teamwork.

Despite all complaints and reservations, you all piled into the car and allowed Bucky to cart you off to the middle of nowhere, albeit entirely silently. A butterfly landing could have frayed your last nerve, which was exactly what happened when you saw a file marked cabin arrangements. It had to have been a sick joke. You had half a mind to casually remark, hey, if you wanted me dead you should have just told me, but you didn’t think he’d have taken kindly to that and you weren’t in the mood for an involuntary psychiatric hold.

Instead you told him, “I think this violates the Geneva conventions.”

“You and Walker have the most issues,” he responded. “And you said you’d hear me out. I really think this is going to work.”

Yelena was right, this was going to get someone killed. It didn’t matter if there was an assembled team of professionals waiting to teach you how to play nice with each other, either you or John would be dead come morning. Everyone else would just have to spend the rest of the week with the corpse. At least then there’d be an even number.

Only out of respect for Bucky did you swallow your pride and stomp off to your assigned cabin with John following close behind. Otherwise, you might have started a fight then and there, but he was right: you’d promised to hear him out, even if this was the last time you’d do it.

Your so-called cabin reminded you more of a dorm room than a woodsy vacation. It was closer-quarters than you’d been with anyone since being on the run. It was just one room with two beds on either side that you likely could have reached at the same time if you stood in the middle and stretched a little. The only comfort was indoor plumbing. You might have become immediately homicidal if there had been any mention of an outhouse.

“Gonna kill him,” John was muttering as he unpacked.

Part of you wanted to tell him to get in line, but a much bigger part of you wanted another hours-long stretch of silence. This was your life for the week, whether you liked it or not, and you wanted to keep the baseline peace for as long as possible. It was hard to do, though, when the second you’d unpacked your own belongings and decided to relax on the bed, someone was knocking at the door. A voice you didn’t recognize cheerily announced that you were to meet at the fire pit for introductions. You plotted Bucky’s slow and painful death as you forced yourself to follow orders.

Ten minutes later, you were all gathered around the unlit fire-pit looking at not just each other, but four very normal people who looked nervous just to be there. How they were supposed to help you all get chummy when they could barely look you in the eyes, you had no clue. It was the woman who you suspected had also been the one to summon you that clapped her hands together and declared you would get started. Though she seemed to be putting her best foot forward, you saw the light in her eyes dim when Yelena drily marked there was no reason for introductions because you all knew each other already.

“Well, okay,” she said with her forced smile, “how about, a fun fact about each of you!”

You could think of a glorious list of fun facts entirely centered around the torture you had in store for your so-called best friend, but you didn’t say that. Which, of course, was not to suggest that the “fun facts” to go around were not equally horrifying. Little miss sunshine was more unsettled minute by minute, and her own staff looked ready to bolt. You reiterated to only yourself, this was not going to work.

It was not working when they put you in their “state-of-the-art” escape room which lasted all of two minutes before John kicked the door open. It was not working when they had you doing child-level arts and crafts on an assembly line, which ended promptly when Ava put scissors through Alexei’s hand. And it was definitely, most certainly, absolutely not working when you were eating lunch and Bob accidentally started a food fight, not in the fun way. It was a lost cause, and it harrowed the staff.

The cheery instructor was holding on by a thread when she declared that she thought some self-reflection time was due and so sent you all off to your respective housing. You swore you saw Bucky’s eye twitch as he headed off towards his own, blissfully single accommodations. Only a few hours in and the plan was falling apart like a child’s blanket fort.

You showered mashed potatoes out of your hair, beating John to the bathroom by seconds to his great frustration. You were not reinvigorated when you emerged clean, but you at least felt less heavy. As John brushed past you on his way to his own shower, you breathed a sigh of relief at the prospect of a few moments truly alone. Three hours and you were already tearing your hair out.

For Bucky, you wanted to put your best foot forward. He was serious about leaving with you, if that was the choice you made, but that pained you. He had found something here, something that could be important and do good, and you weren’t sure if it would kill you more to stick around miserable, or to tear him away. Still, you had told him the truth that night, you weren’t sure you could do it anymore.

Miserably and embarrassingly, a dam broke inside and you burst into tears at the exact moment John exited the briefest shower in human history. He looked at you alarmed and you promptly squeezed your eyes as tight as you could. Perhaps if you couldn’t see him, you could pretend it wasn’t happening at all. If he hadn’t been there hovering, waiting for who knows what, you maybe could have, but he did. John stood there statuesque in exactly the same way he had when you were teenagers, always unsure what to do when you cried.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “The hell did I do now?”

You wanted to scream that not everything was about him, that you’d been miserable long before he ever reentered your life but there was no space in your lungs left to do so. Which meant you just sat there heaving sobs in front of the last person you ever wanted to show a vulnerable bone in your body. If he wanted to see you beaten down by life to feel good about himself, you were certainly giving him the show.

He took you back to high school again, which was both humiliating and a horrifying comfort. He’d never known what to do while you cried, but he’d certainly had a routine for after. You weren’t sure where he got the water bottle that he thrust into your hands ten minutes later, nor did you notice him disappear into the bathroom again for a toilet-paper sub for tissue, but he had. The whole time you shook while you cleaned yourself up and rehydrated so thoroughly you felt like puking, he sat on the floor with his back against your bed, radiating body heat against your leg without touching.

Then he asked you what he always had, and it still sounded like it pained him just like before, “Do you want to talk about it?”

No. You thought you wanted to die, really. You thought that maybe Bucky had needed to worry. And you were thinking that John was still a better man than you gave him credit for, despite all the space and time. Horrifying discover after horrifying discovery. Why you admitted the truth to him you’d probably never know. Why he shared the same would always make you wonder.

“I think I don’t want to be here anymore,” you said, cracking through chesty mucus that had settled in your lungs. The look on his face suggested he knew you didn’t just mean the cabin or trip. Soft eyes, like the very idea of it haunted him even though he shouldn’t have cared any less. It wouldn’t have removed the feather of you from his cap. He still could claim it: I had her. What a shame things went the way they did… It should not have mattered to him. He’d never given you any indication it would.

“I think,” you continued, “that almost everyone I’ve ever loved is dead or gone, and I’m wondering why I didn’t end up there too. So fuck you for thinking it’s you I’m crying over. I was miserable before you. I’ll be miserable after.”

He invoked again through a sigh and rose. “I’m going to go get Bucky.”

Your hand shot out and gripped his wrist as tight as you could. It wouldn’t bruise a super-soldier but he got the point. “You get Bucky and I’ll kill you, John.”

That would be the last straw. Bucky saw you like this and everything would be a goner. He was your best friend, and he’d do anything in the world for you, which made it so damn hard for you to do everything in your power for him. Bucky would never know.

“You’re goddamn demented, you know.” He relented despite what seemed to be protestation. “Fuckin’ crazy. Threatening to put me in the ground for trying to help you.”

“Fuck you,” you repeated, heatless and bland but all you had. “You aren’t helping shit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying here, baby.”

If you had anything left to give besides the barest of oxygen in your lungs, you might have cried all over again. You could imagine clawing at him for having the audacity to call you that, accident or not, but your very bones denied it. Something must have leeched the calcium right out of them, the way you might have buckled if you had been standing. All while your blood was turning to sludge in your veins, John Walker muttered the first apology you’d maybe ever heard from him. Force of habit, he added, like the last time he had any right to say something like that wasn’t years ago.

There was a stretch of silence that could have been hours for all you knew. There were knocks on the door that you both ignored for some reason you’d never be able to explain. There was probably a search party underfoot, but it all seemed deeply inconsequential. At some point, you’d drawn your knees up to your chest, and he’d ended up next to you. Just the barest brushing of skin.

“I want this to work,” you admitted against all better judgment. “For Bucky. For me. I miss having people to rely on. I always liked having people in my corner.”

“I’m getting divorced,” he offered, a piece of his hurt for yours. “Liv might let me see my son. She had some real choice words when I called. So, I guess it would be nice to have some people in my corner, too.”

A real pretty picture to paint, to be sure. Far from being possible just because you decided there was really nothing left to lose. Even so, there was nothing left to do but try.

⊛

So maybe Bucky Barnes was some kind of closet genius.

It was a bit like puzzle pieces clicking when you decided to give it a real go. You still wanted to kill John sometimes. A lot of the time. Maybe even most of the time. But you’d looked straight into each others’ gooey centers, and that would have changed things for anyone.

When you asked where the hell a plan like his had even come from, Bucky admitted it had been far more Sam than it had him. Couple’s counseling, he’d remarked which had explained a number of disappearances he’d previously left up for debate, we’d been going for a while, and when I was telling him he said it was too bad I couldn’t make everyone go. So I found a way. You’d just smiled and said, Fucking weird plan, Buck. You couldn’t deny the results though.

The next time you caught yourself gazing up at the stars recounting what you’d once had, it was John that joined you instead of Bucky. For the first time in a long time, it didn’t leave you with a bone-deep pain to talk about what had been. You grew to understand how Bucky held no resentment to Steve for chasing his own peace, even if it meant leaving forever. It didn’t freeze you to the bone to tell someone, even if it was him, that Yelena was reminding you more and more of Natasha with each passing day. It no longer felt like pulling teeth when you admitted that sometimes when you had a drink at the bar you thought about Tony. Now, when you looked at the sky you wished Thor only the best, rather than cursing him for leaving you for so long. Sometimes, John would tell you about his son and you’d smile for Bruce and Clint.

Part of you recoiled when he echoed Bucky’s words to you. “I need to be worried about you?”

“Nah,” you said, the truth this time. “I’m… solid. Putting in the work. Therapy, medication, all that jazz.” It being mandatory now was only about half the reason you still visited a professional weekly. “I’m doing good, I think.” John repeated good several times as he nodded mostly to himself. You turned it on him. “I gotta be worried about you?”

At that, he shook his head. He echoed your sentiment about putting in the work at mandatory therapy. He was solid too, good even, practically verging on great. His fingers brushed yours as he explained he was having his first unsupervised visit with his son. Not at the tower, nowhere near the tower if he could help it. Not that it was a trust thing, he made sure to add hastily. He thought that maybe there would be a day he could show his son what “work” was now, just not so soon. You were genuinely glad for him all while ignoring a pesky blooming warmth in your chest at a tentative grasp of hands.

John Walker still had roots in you, that was certain, and you had a feeling you had a home somewhere in his ribcage too.

“We were best friends once,” he remarked sometime after your pulse had stopped thrumming in your ears. “Think it could happen again?”

A small smile broke through very thin resistance, and you hummed for what seemed to be dramatic affect. “Spot’s taken… think I might have something else in mind for you, if you’re up for the challenge.”

Clasped hands raised, lips meet the inside of your wrist, your pulse flutters again. “Up for anything, baby.”

#john walker x reader #john walker fanfiction #thunderbolts fanfiction #us agent x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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todayitwillrainblood · 3 days ago

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★ pocket-sized cloud,

a/n: a thanks to @yeon103 ! i was stuck on a name for this, and you really saved me T-T (also, that last line's kind for you :p)

☆ masterlist!

⟲ synopsis;

[ this is from the chibi series! click here to know more! :3 ] oh, no! somehow, your boyfriend has turned into a toddler (chibi :3)! worry not, he still has his personality...kind of?

★ "you met me at the perfect time

you want me, i want you, baby." ☆

— "SIEUN? WHAT HAPPENED to you?!"

[name] was panicking, disgustingly so. he had left his boyfriend alone for just a few minutes to grab milk while sieun shopped near the snack aisle.

imagine his shock when he comes back to see sieun drowning in his clothes, completely teary-eyed and inside their shopping cart.

"oh, sieun-a," he spoke gently, picking up sieun and holding him close.

he wanted to know how this happened, but he also knew that sieun was in no position to tell him, or maybe he didn't even know?

"ah..." [name] looked around with frantic eyes, he wasn't sure where to begin, and was close to hyperventilating. i mean, he's never had a child before!

in his panic, he unfortunately ignored the slight tugs on his sleeve and only looked down when he felt a little bite to the side of his wrist.

"agh!" [name] immediately looked down, scared that something had happened to sieun, well, something other than the fact that he's now seven times his usual size.

but all he was met with was a pouting-and-cheeks-puffy sieun, he was no longer on the verge of crying, just mildly annoyed.

"i'm...cold," he forced out, causing [name] to perk up immediately.

"uh, right!"

with sieun still in his arms, hidden away, [name] dragged the cart to the other side of the store. the clothes there were cheap, but enough for now.

"what about this? hm... hm...no, not this," sometimes, [name] was responsible, very much like the adult he was not old enough to be. but all the time, he was all about fusing and making sure sieun didn't look like he was just dragged through a mud pit, even when he was the size of a toddler...and partially behaving like one.

"ah-ha!" this was it, he looked like the perfect, obedient, most adorable—yeah, you get it.

he was looking like a commercial kid, soft clothes (an honest steal in that run-down store), all he needed was a lollipop in his mouth, preferably a huge one, and fruit jam smeared purposely around his mouth. a charm, really.

[name] folded the clothes sieun was previously wearing, and stuffed them inside a plastic bag he grabbed off the side.

it was pretty awkward during ring-up, trying and failing to explain to the cashier why sieun was dressed in new clothes, with his old ones nowhere in sight. she looked at him very suspiciously, definitely judging him for crimes he didn't commit, so he let out an exaggerated huff and gave up.

at home, sieun could barely sit around. every time [name] sat down after another one of those sessions chasing sieun around the house, he would have to get up and do it again.

it was as if all the energy sieun was not using when he was normal was coming out now. all the energy he suppressed by coping up in a room and slaving away the hours studying was coming out now, by him being a cute menace.

"you have to eat," [name] had sieun held up, his legs far from the ground and frailing weakly.

"no!" he turned his head to the side, pouting, his nose high up and his eyes shut.

how stubborn. seems his poor diet never changed.

"with how much you're running around, you'll collapse if you don't eat." [name] tried to stay stable, yet still gentle with his voice.

sieun looked at him fiercely, his brows furrowed, he looked as if he would start bawling to emotionally manipulate him.

awful of him to think so, but can you blame him? he doesn't know whether to swoon over with how cute he looks, or scold him for how he is behaving.

...

okay, i think we all know that he would never raise his voice at such a cutie and would definitely rather squeal his ears off.

not sure how he ended up like this, but he isn't complaining. a tired sieun clinging to [name]'s back while he cooked, watching him with droopy eyes, with his head resting on [name]'s shoulder.

he let out a mini yawn, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists, "hungry..."

"i know, i know," [name] soothed him, gently lowering him on the couch and handing him a bottle of banana milk, "it won't be long."

sieun is now a child; so instead of drinking the milk, he used the warm bottle as a plushie and fell asleep in under a minute.

"hm."

well, [name] didn't know what to think, confusion? or adoration? suppose it had to be one. he transferred sieun to the bed, still worried slightly that he went to sleep without eating, and packed away the now-ready food.

he tried removing the bottle from sieun's grasp, but the whines of distress he let out stopped him; he just hoped it wouldn't spill during the night.

all the skepticism and puzzlement he felt throughout the day positively washed away when he saw sieun's content and sleeping form. just watching him be a kid, something [name]'s sure he began to miss out on, was enough for him to be satisfied.

maybe, if he's still this size tomorrow, they should make a trip to the amusement park.

or do it anyway, yeah. sieun deserves a break, you know?

[name]'s pocket-sized cloud.

#he bit him!#this is NOT a drill #anyway #imagining a tiny sieun cuddling a warm bottle of banana milk to sleep was not on my 2025 bingo list #but im not complaining #the chibi series :3 #yeon sieun x male reader #yeon sieun x reader #m!reader #weak hero #weak hero fanfic #yeon sieun

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damn-stark · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 12 Into the woods

Chapter 12 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- okay but I kinda really love how this chapter turned out.

Warning- fluff?, ANGST, talks of violence and death, talks of suicide attempt , spoilers for season 2, Remember this is a rewrite not an AU, so the major stuff that happens in the show will happen here :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader (platonic of course :), OC x Fem!reader

Episode- 2x03-2x04, used scenes from the game too

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

“We went to make them pay. Sorry we had to do this the hard way, but you didn’t leave us no other choice. We asked and you turned us down. Now you have to trust that we will come back.

-Dina and Ellie”

“It was stuck to her door?” You ask as you lift the note and show it off to Jesse, who has read it over and over again as if that would bring them both back, or make it any less surprising. It didn’t.

“Yes,” Jesse answers hesitantly as he looks at you with pity and concern, and then flickers his eyes to Apollo with shame. “I’m sorry I came here so early. I really am. I just,” he pauses and focuses on Apollo as if ready to hear his friend get mad at him for involving you, but Jesse shouldn’t worry about Apollo. It’s your Uncle Tommy he should worry about. He seems more bothered by the fact that Jesse chose to come to you instead of just privately going to him. After all, you just barely started talking and getting out of the house; this could mortify you more.

“I thought you needed to know,” Jesse explains his reasoning, but doesn’t make it sound any better to your Uncle. If he had the chance to lie to you about this, he would’ve chosen that because as he looks over at you, he sees you set the note down and drop your face in your palms to try and gather your racing thoughts that don't leave you groggy. You’re left wide awake after reading Ellie’s note—or should you say Dina’s note, there’s no way Ellie would have written so much down. She would’ve made it short and straight to the point.

“I mean, I know they’re both reckless, but to do this? This is something completely beyond reckless and stupid.” Jesse adds, as you start rubbing your temple and revisit what Ellie said, because she’s right, you’re late. Too weak. You knew she was up to something stupid, and you didn’t stop her. You’re too late.

“What do we do with this now?” Jesse keeps filling the silence while Apollo is more worried about how you’re going to take this since you’re being quiet.

“Maybe we can still stop them, or,” Jesse pauses and sighs deeply, choosing to stay quiet instead of finishing what he was going to say.

“Or what?” You finally speak and drop one hand off your face, letting it smack against the dinner table.

“Go after them. I mean,” Jesse goes on hesitantly. “Knowing Ellie, we won’t be able to bring her back now, but maybe we can go after her. Save her and Dina from getting killed.”

Going after her was the first thing you thought of because you know, just like Jesse, that trying to bring Ellie back would be impossible. She’s put her mind to a mission, and it’d be hell to try and convince her to come back.

However, among the many other reasons not to go, you share the most important one that you think about the most. “I’d be the last person she would want after her,” you mumble, piquing all three men’s interest.

“We got into an argument yesterday after the meeting,” you share, and avert your gaze by looking at the note again. “I won’t go into detail, but she basically told me that she never wants to see me again.”

Jesse lifts his eyebrow, expecting more since he doesn’t know the depth of your argument or the hurtful things she said, since you don’t want to badmouth her.

“So you’re going to listen to her?” Jesse asks with disbelief, interrupting your uncle before he can speak up.

“I,” you pause and sit up straight before you take a deep breath and meet his gaze. “I don’t know. I mean, she made her choice. Who am I to stop her? I already tried. I told her not to go, that there is no point, but she got mad.” You say with frustration about your own failures, and because even if you understand that Ellie was mad, the things she said still deeply hurt.

It was the same when you were young. You’d try to help, but you’d always get yelled at and hurt. Only this time it hurts so much worse because it makes you want to die.

It's no exaggeration, that’s the truth, because it’s a truth that is tearing away at you as you speak.

“You’re her sister,” Jesse argues without an ounce of hesitation or shame—“isn’t that point enough? Regardless of what she said?”

You stay quiet and glance at Apollo this time as you think about your other reason not to go.

You have a family now. You can’t just abruptly leave for something that doesn’t guarantee you’ll make it back. They don’t deserve that, and you can’t just do that to them. But Jesse is also right…Ellie is your sister. Would your dad stop from going after her even if she said hurtful things to him?

He would go in a heartbeat, so you…should do the same to help the girl you love, but…there’s so many reasons telling you to stay.

“It is point enough,” your uncle finally chimes in for you and looks at you ever so softly as if a look alone could cause you harm. “Of course, Sunny of all people knows that the words our siblings say at the heat of the moment don’t mean anything, but it’s not easy. For either of us. We can’t just grab a backpack and leave the moment we decide to. Maybe you get that, Jesse, or maybe you don’t. Maybe a couple of years down the line, you’ll realize, but either way, we can’t be as bold with our choices as you.”

Jesse drops his head with shame, and your Uncle leans towards you with even more tenderness. “Don’t break your head over what you want to do. I’ll give you…until tomorrow to think about it.” He says and pats the empty space on the table.

You slowly meet his gaze and feel relieved by his suggestion, and feel that pressure to know what to do decreasing. Yet it doesn’t all vanish.

“Will you go?” You ask your Uncle, knowing Jesse wasn’t asking for permission but more so support before he left.

“I,” your uncle pauses and sits back with his eyes flickering away. “…Don’t know. I’ll think about it too,” he says without looking at you once, but you never give that too much thought.

“Can we really risk being two days behind them?” Jesse blurts, causing your Uncle to snap his gaze to him.

“It’s a risk we have to take and can fix if we choose to go,” your uncle mutters before looking over at you and finding your gaze again. “A day, hm?” He repeats and looks between you and Jesse.

“Okay,” You nod stiffly.

Jesse waits a moment to see if you’ll add anything else, but you go quiet, and your Uncle gets up and looks at him before pointing his head at the door.

“I’m going to head out now,” your Uncle announces as Jesse gets up from his seat. “You think about it.”

You nod again, and Jesse interjects. “Again, I’m sorry I came over so abruptly,” he says, making you drift your eyes to watch him.

“We already told you, it’s okay,” Apollo reassures the young man as he gets off of his chair.

“I’ll go find you later,” you assure Jesse and your Uncle, making Jesse nod in comprehension and making your Uncle linger back before he follows Jesse out of the house, making Apollo see them out.

When Apollo comes back to the dining room, he sees you in the same spot, but this time you have the letter in your hand and you’re reading the letter again with a deep sorrow in your eyes.

“What are we plannin’ to do?” Apollo asks now that you’re in the comfort of each other's privacy.

“I…genuinely don’t know,” you confess and drop the letter to look at him. “A part of me is telling me to go. She’s my sister and she’s risking her life in this cruel world, so even if she says that she doesn’t want to see me again, she still needs me.”

“Tommy is right, when we say we don’t want to see our siblings again, we don't mean it,” Apollo tries to comfort your bleeding heart as he sits across from you to be able to take your hands in his. “She’s mad, but she hasn’t forsaken you.”

You look at him, teary-eyed eyed and finally share everything she told you yesterday. “She said she hated me, Apollo. And maybe I deserve to be hated, I lied, but…how will we go back to what we were? How will she forgive me?”

Apollo sighs and, with a pitiful frown, says a hurtful truth. “You won’t ever get back what you had, but you can get past it. You will get past it.”

You let out a shaky breath and drop your head before you wipe the tears off your face, causing him to caress your knuckles and look at you with more pity.

You’re starting to hate all this pity.

“Another part of me is telling me not to go,” you cut in. “Not for any petty reason, but it’s not as easy as before, you know.” You breathe out deeply.

Apollo nods in agreement before he interjects. “Think about it like Tommy said,” he says without the reassurance that he’ll support whatever choice you make because deep down he hopes you won’t go. He’ll understand if you want to, but it’s like you said, it’s not as easy as before.

“I will, hopefully by today, I don’t want to leave Jesse waiting or have the girls get too ahead,” you say, and let that take over your every waking thought. How could you think about anything else with such a heavy and hard choice to make?

You go out to your garden to think, but you don’t come out with your mind made up, so you try to keep busy inside your house, but nothing comes to mind. You then go for a long walk, hoping that will help you, but you keep debating with yourself. The only thing you end up doing is ending up in front of your dad’s abandoned house.

You don’t know what led you there; whether it’s because of instinct, or because deep down you wanted to come visit his house to find an answer, you don’t know. You just know you’re in front of the driveway, hoping once again that you’ll find him on his porch, but…he’s not there. You can’t even be reassured by the fact that Ellie is in the garage because she’s gone too.

The house is alone. Lifeless and abandoned, with only memories of what was haunting the dust-covered halls.

Even so, as depressing as that is, you still step foot past the threshold that once kept you away, and make your way to the front door.

When you reach the door, you lift your hand with the intention to knock, but you remember that no one is inside, so before you can overthink the matter, you grab the doorknob and open the door.

What once was a warm place lively with comfort, now is a sad reminder of who you lost. Now, there’s no father to welcome you inside, and the smell of coffee doesn’t waft in your nose.

Usually, the lights inside the house were hardly on; he didn’t excessively brighten his house like you or Ellie do, but a light was usually on. Now, there’s only a dull light that fills the house because the sun hides under thick clouds.

Even so, you don’t turn to walk away. For the first time since he died, you step foot inside the house and close the door behind you, expecting nothing; no greeting, no head peeking around a corner, and no distant voice telling you where he is, but oh, the house comes alive with memory.

In the living room, you hear snoring as the TV quietly plays, so you follow the noise and on the lazy-boy, you see the memory of your dad asleep with your infant son asleep in his arms.

In the dining room you hear the commotion of faint laughter, metal clinking against plates, and different conversations across the table, and when you walk to the room, you see a warm light brightening the room and your family dining without a worry, almost as if life held no monsters and everything was normal.

You want to relive just one night. You want to have dinner with the whole of your family again and make one more memory, but the kitchen calls you. The memory of coffee brewing in the kitchen lures you over, and here to keep you company is the memory of you and your dad cooking and doing the dishes as you yapped away and he listened to every word.

A part of you wants to stay to be able to relive through those fond memories, but heavy footsteps thump in the hall, growing more distant as they get further away, so before you can get left behind, you follow after those heavy footsteps and end up at the foot of the stairs.

The haunting footsteps continue to echo on the second floor, but you’re in no rush since you get distracted by the photos your dad hung on the wall going up the stairs.

The first and most recent photo you study is a picture of your dad holding Teddy, who is looking away, but still relaxed in your dad's arms. The next photo you see when you go up a couple of stairs is one of you and all of your family gathered around the table. Ellie and your dad didn’t talk by then so they were at opposite ends, but they were still captured in the same photo, making it seem, without context, that they were a strong united front. If only it were true…

Nevertheless, you move up and the next photo keeps you put longer than the other ones because it’s one of you, Apollo, and your Dad on your wedding day. Your dad was in the middle, keeping you and your husband apart because the old man had a hard time accepting that his youngest daughter was all grown up.

It was funny then, but the memory is even funnier now.

Regardless, you reach the second floor and an end table decorates the end of the hall, holding different pictures and trinkets, but most importantly, it holds a happy picture of you, your dad, and Ellie captured on Ellie’s special birthday trip.

It was a long time ago, and it was the first trip you had together after the big adventure that brought you all together. It's a memory that should help you come up with a decision, but the truth is that you only get more upset over who you lost. So you move on instead, clueless as to what you want to do.

The next place you find yourself in is not Ellie’s bare room. You walk past her room and walk directly into your dad's room, feeling your heart crush when you walk into an empty room holding only memories of him. Not him sleeping on the bed, just an empty room and an empty bed holding a single box.

You grow curious about what the box could possibly contain, so you walk to it, feeling tears fall off your chin and get left on the floor as you hastily reach the bed. Once you get to the box, you don’t hesitate to open it, revealing to yourself that it’s his belongings he had on him when he…died.

There isn't a lot in the box, but you still only drive your focus to his broken watch that he refused to part with, not because it was a trusty gadget that told time, no, the old thing is broken. Which should be a reason to have abandoned it a long time ago, but the watch was a reminder of Sarah, and the last thing he ever gifted her. That’s why he kept it with him at all times, because it felt like carrying her with him.

Why would they make him part with it? Why didn’t they bury him with it?

If only you had been there. You would’ve made sure they were buried together, but…you weren’t there. You didn’t say your last goodbye…

…to either of them…now they’re both gone and you’re here, living on without them. Why?

“Why?” You ask yourself as you clutch onto your dad's broken watch before you turn to look at a picture your dad has on his nightstand, one of before the outbreak. A picture of you, Sarah, and him before the world ended, and where you were happy together.

You want to be with them again, more than anything else in this world. That’s what you want, and that desire, the picture, and the memory it brings, finally lets you come up with an answer.

Thus, you tuck the watch in your pocket and leave the house to go find Jesse first, since he’s more eager to leave.

Luckily, it’s not hard to locate him. You find him in the first place you check; his house, but there with him is your Uncle. They were looking over a map together.

“I decided,” you cut in abruptly, skipping past greetings and asking for explanations. “I’m going.”

“Sunny,” your Uncle Tommy finally parts from the table and approaches you, causing Jesse to back away.

You stay where you are and let your Uncle approach you so he can see how your face contorts with betrayal and frustration.

“I said I’m going,” you cut in confidently. “You can fight me or accept my choice. I'd rather you accept it because by the looks of it we’ll only have a hard time if you don’t.”

Your Uncle sighs and drops his head. “I was just looking out for you,” he explains without as much trouble as it would’ve given your dad to explain. “I’m just worried about you. You’re only now gettin’ better and you have Teddy and Apollo, and I—”

“You were selfish,” you cut him off and step towards him to tilt your head down so he can meet your gaze. “You have Benji and Maria, too, so where’s the difference in that? I can do it,” you proclaim. “I will do it because she’s my sister and she needs me.”

Your Uncle lifts his head, and you follow his movements so as not to lose his gaze. “Meet at my house when you’re done here. We leave today,” you say without giving more explanations.

“Are you sure?” Jesse asks for his own sake.

You look at him over your Uncle’s shoulder and nod stiffly before you step away from his front door. “Positive,” you assure him and then pass him a helpful comment. “Pack the necessities you have at your house. I’ll take care of the rest.”

He offers you a comprehensive nod, so you then face your Uncle and press again to not be at odds. “You go. I go. Simple as that. I’m…okay.”

Your Uncle takes a moment to process that, knowing you too well as to accept that right away, but you're as stubborn as your dad when you want to be, so he chooses to trust you now and gives in. “Alright.”

The corner of your lips tugs up faintly before you then leave and return home with your mind made up, but your heart heavy.

“Apollo?” You call out after you close the front door, but you don’t hear a response, so you walk further inside and check the kitchen and the living room, but he’s not there. You proceed to check the rooms, but he’s not in any and Teddy is not inside either.

Could they be out in town? Maybe.

Yet before you can assume that possibility, you check the backyard, and much to your luck, there they are in the wildflower garden along with your dog Hermes.

You almost don’t want to disturb their peace. You could admire them forever, but you don’t want to risk Jesse getting here and telling Apollo the choice you made, so after a couple of lingering minutes, you join your boys and your dog outside, earning happy reactions from the both of them.

“Ma!” Teddy exclaims and tries to walk to you, but you reach him first and swiftly sweep him off the floor with a beaming grin.

“Hey, cowboy,” you greet and kiss his forehead before you pull your head back as he shows you a single flower he picked. “Oh, would you look at that? Is that for me or you?”

Teddy brings the flower back towards him and stares at it for a moment before he accidentally drops it, making him squirm, so you end up putting him down so he can keep doing whatever it was that he was doing along with Hermes, and so you can take a seat next to Apollo on the bench swing.

“I finally made my choice,” you don’t delay the matter a moment longer, making him pick his eyes off Teddy to look at you nervously. “I’m going. Today.”

There’s no talk about a passionate motivation to go help Ellie from mortal danger. He, of course, thinks he knows why you’re going, and it makes your choice hard to swallow. Not because he doesn’t want you to help Ellie, but because it’s not so simple anymore.

“It seems that my Uncle and Jesse weren’t planning to have me go, but I caught them in time,” you share, but don’t catch Apollo by surprise because he had noticed your Uncle’s intentions from the moment the letter was shared—“So we leave today, just my Uncle, Jesse, and me,” you clarify, but get no big reaction from Apollo. He drops his gaze and sighs before he finally lets his thoughts be heard.

“Yeah, I…didn’t plan to be a part of the trip,” he confesses, leaving you more surprised than he was with what you just told him.

“We have Teddy,” he continues, making you look over at your son with guilt. “One of us has to stay with him. Why should we risk his life, or risk him being left…an orphan if Jackson is safe and one parent who can stay with him?”

You gulp as your guilt digs itself deeper, causing more ache.

“I wish I could go, but one of us has to stay with him, and as much as I wish it was you, I know this mission is important to you,” he continues to clarify his decision and turns his head to look at you while you keep watching Teddy as you try to take advantage of the time you have with him before you have to leave.

“That’s the only reason I’m even supporting it,” he says, and finally brings your eyes back to him. “I just,” he pauses and draws out a heavy breath. “Don’t know how many long goodbyes I have left in me.”

As if you had your breath stolen by him, you gasp softly and look at him with disbelief.

“I love you,” he quickly explains as he sees your reaction. “But things are different now. We have a son. A life together and…I don’t think it’s fair to me or him to uproot it for a trip that may or may not bring you back.”

You avert your gaze and clench your hands into fists.

“You know how much it hurts when people leave you behind,” he points out, making your heart skip a beat while also almost changing your mind. But it’s not enough because your dad's death is in the back of your mind like a plague.

“I do know,” you mumble and look back at him with reassurance. “I wouldn’t be leaving either if it wasn’t for Ellie, but…she…needs me,” you finally repeat your reason for leaving. “Whether she wants my help or not. I owe it to him to try.”

Apollo hums, and you take his hands to make one thing clear.

“But I also know I can’t water dead plants. I know my dad would never stop going after her, but I do know when to stop…there'll be no more long goodbyes after this one.” You clarify, making a soft smile tug on his lips.

“Okay,” he whispers before you let his hands go to wrap him in a tight embrace as if you were already saying your goodbyes when it won’t be for another little while.

“You are the best friend and best husband anyone could ask for,” you tell him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so lucky to have met you. I love you…with all of me.” You say against his flesh, making him grin and hold you tightly against him, to the point you find comfort in his steady heartbeat.

“I love you too,” he redirects. “You are loved so so much, so please come back, okay?”

You pick your face off his neck and rest your chin on his shoulder before you whisper back. “Okay.”

With no promise made and your first round of goodbyes shared, you then continue to watch Teddy play outside for a while longer until you have to go inside to get ready.

About halfway into packing the necessities you have in your house, Jesse and your Uncle finally meet up at your house and wait for a little while, but not as long as they assumed.

“You’re both carrying light,” Jesse points out as he sees that your backpack looks as light as your Uncle’s.

“For now,” you leave him more curious.

“Now,” your Uncle interjects. “It’s night now, so it’s the perfect time to get our horses and sneak out so as not to raise questions, okay? So just act normal.” He says without worry and expects you and Jesse to look the same, but Jesse looks lost.

“What about weapons? Are we just going to stroll in the armory and take what we need? Those are locked.” Jesse asks the most important question. “And food?”

You share a knowing look with your Uncle and Apollo before you decide to tell Jesse the secret early. “We have all that a couple of miles out of Jackson.”

Jesse blinks in disbelief, so you explain yourself further.

“Jackson is home. Jackson is safe, but we’ve been around long enough, and early in our years, we knew this man named Bill. He was…what my Daddy called an end-of-the-world prepper, so to make this story short, he warned my dad to always have an escape plan if we found ourselves in communities, especially because he had a daughter. My dad took that to heart, and he did exactly that. An escape plan.” You reveal with a smug smirk. “He hid a cache just outside of Jackson that he let a few of us know about.”

Jesse scoffs, and before he can feel proud over your father's genius plan, he asks one more question that immediately comes to mind. “Ellie left first. I’m pretty sure she emptied that.”

You scoff. “You really think we would let Ellie know?” You remark lightheartedly. “She would have emptied that a long time ago, knowing her, so we didn’t tell her. Weapons, food, flashlights, and everything we need is already there. I'm assuming you have a path mapped out,” you point out with a hint of annoyance, making your Uncle sigh deeply before he has no choice but to agree.

“We do, we just need to go collect our cache. So it begs the question, are you two ready to go?”

Without hesitation or anything holding you back, you nod to give him an answer before you confirm it verbally. “I’m ready.”

Jesse nods in agreement without so much as doubt, but what follows holds you back, so before you can leave, you turn to Apollo, but not with sorrow and uncertainty to leave. You look at him softly and completely enamored. “I love you. Always.”

He smiles back at you tenderly and without caring that you have company so close by; he smacks his lips on yours and steals a kiss.

Knowing this kiss will be your last, you capture his jaw to press him closer and spark a passion that makes you move ravenously. You almost don't have the heart or will to break away, but you taste a salty tear mix in your passion, so you pull away, but keep him close to take note of every feature on his face.

“I’ll be here. Waiting,” he says, pulling more tears out of your eyes. “My love. My world. My light.”

You smile at him tenderly and have to steal one last kiss.

Before you can part to give your son your goodbyes, you reach inside your shirt and pull out his old Firefly pendant to assure him. “I’ll have you close. Always.”

He scoffs softly and looks away shyly, letting you then move away to find your son in the living room playing on the floor with his toys.

“Take care of each other,” you hear Apollo tell Jesse while you go on your knees to grab your son's attention.

“Teddy, I’m going to be leaving now, okay?” You tell your son who is cluelessly gripping onto his toys. “You’re gonna be stayin’ with your Daddy, so you be good to him, okay?”

The baby blabbers and offers you his toy giraffe, so you take it and press it against your chest. “I’ll keep you close, okay?”

Teddy asks for his toy back, so you give it back with a giggle and then lean in to hug him tightly, causing him to laugh in response.

“I love you, my Theo,” you whisper. “Don’t forget me.”

Teddy stays in your embrace until you let go, and before you can completely part from him, you face him one last time and then force yourself away to make your way to the front door with Jesse and your Uncle trailing after you, and Apollo trailing after them.

Once you reach the door, you give Apollo one last embrace because if he went to see you off at the gate, people would grow suspicious, so he sees you to the door instead.

“Ready?” Your Uncle asks one last time as you face your traveling partners.

“Ready,” you and Jesse answer at the same time with confidence and determination

——

*A COUPLE WEEKS LATER*

Thanks to your travel experience, you were able to help with some kinks to your Uncle and Jesse’s initial path to Seattle to avoid as many potential obstacles as possible. It is hard to know if you’ll come across something as small as a camp or as big as a town, but you avoid cities, highways, and freeways and stick to the woods and backroads where people usually don’t settle, and infected are least likely to roam.

Luckily, it’s just three of you, so you’re least likely to catch anyone’s attention. You don’t have a dog to help you with what you humans can't catch, but you don’t stop to loot anywhere and are never too loud or keep the light on too long. It’s not because you just set up camp to simply eat and sleep; you make conversation, you share stories, and laugh at jokes. You never disagree with one another because Jesse respects the plans of more experienced travelers, and you trust your Uncle, and he trusts you, but there, between both men and you, is a threshold.

Your Uncle sees it, but he doesn’t want to cross it. He gives you space because he thinks that’s the answer, and he likes to think he knows you more than he knows himself, but Jesse is different; he can see what your Uncle is failing to catch. It would be impossible not to, since you're on the road with no one but each other, but instead of getting closer on this trip, there’s always a barrier between them and you, and he can feel it.

Maybe it is because you’ve been on the road with only each other as company, so it’d be hard to miss, but it’s almost so thick that Jesse swears he can almost touch it with the pads of his fingers. It’s where you keep the person you really are and every emotion that riddles that you.

As much as Jesse wants to cross that threshold, though, you never let him cross it. You keep him and your Uncle at the other side and let them see an unusual bliss that feels inorganic.

“I see something brown,” you share, making Jesse search the area around you before he examines the sky to try and find what you spotted, making it the perfect game to keep you and Jesse entertained while also working to search the area for anything suspicious.

“That hawk circling the area over there,” Jesse points out exactly what you had seen.

“Yes,” you praise him with a smile. “A red-tailed hawk, if I remember correctly, right, Uncle Tommy?”

Said man searches the sky until he finds the distant fella and shrugs. “I wouldn’t know anymore. I only made you memorize them so we could get some teaching in while on the road.”

You groan and then look back at Jesse and add on. “Either way, it’s not very good to eat.”

Jesse scoffs with curiosity twinkling in his eyes. “Before or after?” He asks, referring to before Jackson or on your nationwide road trip.

“Before,” you let him know, and turn your eyes away from the sky when the hawk is out of view. “Of course, my Uncle Tommy, here, caught it. I helped…kinda. It moved too much for me, so we didn’t want to risk it then, but I helped locate it after we hunted it down.”

“Pretty much the same thing,” he jokes, making you giggle.

“I’ll say. Okay,” you focus back on the game. “Now you. Go. Last one. Make it hard.”

Jesse hums and his eyes search high up in the tall trees and down low at the horses you ride before looking at every green bush, colored plant, grey rock, and anything else you have yet to cross and that surrounds you until his eyes seem to lock on something.

You try to pinpoint what it is by following his line of gaze and blurting the first thing you see. “Fern!”

Jesse rolls his eyes and turns his attention to you. “No. Not close. Something…you can slip on if you are not careful.”

You press your lips together and search the area he had focused on to try and find what he said with the clue he gave. However, there’s no mud because it hasn't rained. There’s no moss that you can see. You can’t see flat rocks on the ground or any twigs that can get caught under your shoe.

“Bark?” You ask hesitantly.

A faint smirk tugs on his lips before he shakes his head. “No. Listen.”

You strain your ear and catch the call of the same Red-tailed hawk in the distance. You hear different birds chirping, and past that, you hear a rush of water, but you can’t see it.

That can’t be it.

“A river?” You ask with confusion, and as unsure as you are of your response, Jesse actually nods.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you smack your lips. “That ain’t close. I mean, I can’t see it.”

Your Uncle chuckles from the front of the caravan, and Jesse shakes his head with the smug smile still attached to his face. “Nope, but it’s not I-spy. We just have to find what the other person points out.” He says cockily, so you roll your eyes and sigh deeply.

“Whatever,” you grumble and then nudge your horse to pick up her pace and take the lead to reach the river faster. “We should fill up our bottles and let the horses hydrate,” you share your thoughts with the men who don't question you. After all, you won’t come across another body of water today or tomorrow.

Yet when you reach the river, you find out that it was loud enough to be heard from afar for a reason; the water is running faster, and it's higher than it should be.

“Melting snow and the recent storm?” Jesse asks for reassurance, so you and your Uncle give it to him because that is the only reason the water is so high.

“Yep.” You sigh.

Luckily, a wide tree has fallen over the river, so you will save time and energy by crossing to reach the other side, but how steady is it against the rushing water is the important question.

“We’ll cross one by one,” your Uncle suggests as you keep your eyes on the fallen tree to see if it’ll move.

“But don’t get off your horse. Just keep the pace slow and steady,” your Uncle adds. “Questions?”

You shake your head, and Jesse turns his head to look at him, but doesn’t give any notes. “Yeah. That sounds good. I trust you.”

You draw out a deep breath and nod along. “Me too,” you echo and then look back at the tree before you interject. “Jesse, you go first.”

Your Uncle and Jesse look at you, and they get ready to argue, but you snap your eyes to Jesse and insist. “Go. I’ll go right after you. Just don’t look back. Eyes forward and don’t panic or the horse will panic, hm?”

Jesse finds your insistence to go first annoying because he wants you to get across safely first, just in case something goes wrong, but there’s no point arguing. Thus, before you can waste any more time, Jesse nudges his horse and moves forward.

At first, the horse seems hesitant to climb on the tree because the river is loud and walking on a tree hasn’t been common for them to do, but after some sweet and quiet comforting from Jesse, the horse climbs on and slowly begins to take Jesse across.

You stay behind and don’t dare to move an inch because you don’t want to risk spooking his horse or even moving a pebble on the ground, in case that somehow makes the tree move.

You hold your breath and grow more tense by the second. A part of you wants to rush Jesse so he can get across as soon as possible, but the other part of you is logical and keeps you quiet as you watch every step with laser focus.

No part of you is at ease until finally, Jesse reaches the other side successfully.

“Great job!” You praise and clap for both the horse and him.

“Thank you, now come across,” he urges you without really soaking in the great achievement so as not to risk anything changing in the tree's stability or the rushing water.

Your Uncle takes that under consideration and presses you, too. “You heard him. Go. I’m right behind you. Nice and slow.”

You glance at him and nod in comprehension, but you don’t hesitate or take any of their warnings under consideration. What used to worry you and keep you tense doesn’t affect you now that it’s your turn. You don’t rush across. You take it slow and ease your horse on the tree, but you don’t hold the same anxiety that you noticed in Jesse when he crossed.

You don’t hold a sense of cockiness either. You just don’t care when it comes to you crossing. Maybe that’s what changed when you cross, or maybe it was just the rushing water smacking against the tree. Either way, the movement is small at first, it makes your heart skip a beat, and it makes Jesse and your Uncle move their horses forward.

The second time the tree moves, your horse slips. Yet you don’t react with fear and scream for help when you crash into the water and fall off your horse. You don’t panic when the force of the water shoves you under its angry waves either.

You feel a sense of relief, and when you hit the back of your head against a rock on the river floor, there’s ecstasy that rushes through your blood seconds before it all goes black.

At first, you expect the darkness to be fleeting. You expect to wake up and see the cloudy sky, but when you open your eyes, that ecstasy runs faster when you see your house.

Not your small yellow house in Jackson, no. You’re in front of your house in Austin, Texas. You’re home, and it’s just as you left it before the outbreak. Nothing is overgrown, the windows aren’t broken, and the roof isn’t crumbling. It’s in a perfect state, and you don’t question why it’s so.

You don’t even ask why you’re standing in front of it. You just grin with genuine glee and cut across the lawn. When you reach the door, you hesitate to steady your heartbeat before you open the door and immediately get greeted by everything you once knew.

Everything is the same. Nothing is out of place, not a pillow on the couch, and not a speck of dust. The one difference is that the sun shines through the windows, brightening and warming up the living room. Oh, and there’s a smell. A good smell that awakens your appetite, so you follow it across the living room and into the kitchen, noticing right away that it’s lively past the back door. There’s a long picnic table outside adorned with a simple yet cute white tablecloth, and plates and silverware are set on top of it waiting to be used.

Who did all this? You ask yourself, and slowly walk to the back door to try and see who’s outside.

Yet before you can even reach for the door, someone walks up to the door, someone you spent missing longer than you knew them. Someone you often think about and frequently miss. Someone sweet and beautiful, Sarah.

She’s in a nice sun dress that complements her skin. She dons a small amount of mascara, a pink lip gloss that makes her lips shiny, and when she reaches the door and faces you, she offers you her incredible smile that drives you to her without even thinking about it.

You should have. You should have hesitated opening the door and stepping outside, but you’re too happy and too ready to even hesitate. You just throw your arms around your sister again and hold her close.

“Sarah,” you whisper with a break in your voice as tears fill your eyes. “I missed you,” you add, and feel her hold you back.

“Me too,” she says sweetly, and it’s those words alone that make you feel safe again. Like the world couldn’t hurt you, and you were invincible. You felt like a little girl again back in 2003, and you enjoyed it. You made yourself at home in your sister's embrace in this peaceful afterlife.

“I…I really missed you,” you express yourself again before you pull back and face her sweet and young face, catching your reflection in her light, earthy eyes and seeing your face unchanged. You're just all dolled up in a sundress, just like her.

“I’m still older,” she reminds you, and you don’t deny her.

You laugh and assure her.

“Always,” you say, and then from one moment to another, the sound of a giggle steals your attention. When you look over, tending to the grill is a woman with her back turned to you, so you can’t take note of her face, you just see her hair and the color of her skin, but after that, it’s easy to guess that it’s your mother.

You don’t need to see her face, you know for certain because next to her is your dad.

“Daddy,” you call out with a quiver, and as said man turns to give you his attention, you march over there, but don’t embrace him like you did with Sarah. You face him with your face pampered with tears and immediately try to share your pain.

“Daddy, I’m…it…I’m sorry.” You cry while said man stays quiet, but grabs your shoulders to make you meet his gaze before he wipes away your tears.

“Come sit,” you hear Sarah say from the other end of the table. “The food is ready.”

You hold your dad's gaze, but he quickly looks away to point at an empty seat at the end of the table with a name card you can’t read. Nor do you intend to read right now.

You part from your dad and once again, without hesitation, you follow Sarah and sit at the end of the table next to her. There’s no question about it, and you don’t look back for anyone. You just take your seat and wait, seeing your dad sitting at the other end of the table across from you before the food comes. He then looks at an empty seat next to him and this time you read the name card, ‘Ellie Williams.’.

You gasp and feel a pull. At last, in the bliss, there’s a pull.

Yet you forget all about it when the woman at the grill finally turns and shows you a face you have only seen in pictures; your mother.

She turns with the food in her hands and walks over to you first to serve you.

“Mama,” you whisper happily, earning a sweet smile that makes you want to stay even more so you can keep seeing her smile. You don't want to leave. You want to stay here with her, Sarah, and your dad. It’s a choice, and you want to take it. You’re ready. It’s why you came on this trip, to reunite with them. It wasn’t Ellie who brought you on this trip; it was the need to be with your family, and you’re finally with them. Now, every muscle in your body is telling you not to look back.

Albeit as your mother walks away, you follow her with your eyes and in doing so, you catch the other empty chairs with name cards of their own.

Next to you on your left is ‘Theo Holloway.’ Next to him and in the middle is ‘Apollo Holloway’, and of course, next to him is Ellie.

Their seats are empty, and they will be empty for a while.

That thought makes you feel that pull stronger than before, but you’re still hesitant because of Sarah and your mother. You want to stay with them and him too, but when you look at him, without saying it, he’s urging you to go back.

“Please,” he finally speaks with tears welling in his eyes.

“But,” you try to argue, but stop to look at the empty seats again. “What good am I there?” You ask and look at him again. “I couldn’t save you. You’re dead because of me, and I…couldn't handle the weight of it. It was crushing me. I feel…weightless here. Happy. Please let me stay. I want to stay.”

You will. It’s your choice and you’re making it…

But there’s also Ellie…if you can’t handle the weight, how is she fairing? Dina was there when your dad died, but she can’t possibly feel the same crushing weight or the same heartache that never stops hurting. Only you and Ellie know that feeling, and if you stay…she has no one…

Damn it…

“Daddy,” you say softly, and without saying it he finally smiles at you, making that gesture and his face be the last thing you see before it’s all taken away and you’re in that lodge, seeing him die again for a fleeting second before you’re transported back to life panicked and surrounded by dark rushing water for a moment before you’re yanked out and thrown on the ground where you cough out water and try to draw in the air that will keep you alive.

“Oh, thank god!” Jesse gasps while your uncle grabs your arm to sit you up to pat your back to help you get all the water out.

Once you’ve gathered your breath and stopped with your coughing fit, your uncle throws his arms around you, feeling all the weight of the world rise off his shoulders as he sees that you’re okay now.

“Thank god,” he whispers. “I thought I lost ya there for a second.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder and look anything but relieved.

That feeling will pass, but right now you’re more disappointed than grateful because you got taken away from everything you wanted. Peace, bliss, and your home.

Still, your uncle doesn’t notice that, but Jesse does. He just doesn’t say anything on the matter and instead watches you look ahead blankly whilst you relish in your Uncle's embrace.

“You might have a concussion, so let’s call today a day. There seems to be a town nearby. We can find some to hold up there,” your uncle suggests as he pulls away from the embrace to very swiftly walk around you to check on your head as if rehearsed, or fallen back to old habits from your early years traveling together.

“It’s abandoned,” you input, and let your Uncle check on you, realizing that at that moment, your horse is alive, just soaked and unharmed. You got the worst of the fall. “At least the last time I passed it was. I didn’t even encounter any infected.”

“But it doesn’t mean there isn’t any,” Jesse interjects, making your uncle agree.

“That’s true. What’s the last place you stayed at, Sunny?” Your Uncle asks as he moves away to grab the blanket off his horse to wrap it around you.

“No,” you shake your head. “We didn’t stay. We passed by, but I did see a bank. A pretty big one. It could have a vault.”

Your uncle stays quiet for a moment before he nods. “Okay. We’ll check it out. Come on, let’s get you out of those wet clothes so we can go. You don’t have any cuts or anything concerning, but we’ll just have you stay out of any action for a while.”

“Okay,” you agree without a fight and follow him to borrow some clothes since everything you own, even your horse, is soaked.

Once you get yourself situated, you get back on the road and don’t take long to come across the town you talked about, finding it empty of any people and infected. Or at least, the infected aren’t roaming the streets. If people were here, it’d be obvious, instead, it’s a ghost town, and that raises the hairs on the back of your neck rather than making you feel relaxed.

It's a good thing you stick to the bank and don’t take time to explore a thing, who knows what monsters lurk in the shadows.

“The horses look like they fit through the rubble,” your uncle Tommy lets you and Jesse know before he walks out to grab his horse's reins and leads her inside.

You don’t doubt your Uncle, so you follow behind him with your horse, and then Jesse trails after you.

When you’re inside and making your way further inside the bank, you can’t help but be taken aback just a little by the state of the entrance of the bank. It’s one of the few things you like about this new world; man-made things slowly being taken over by Mother Earth. It can be a breathtaking sight, and the entrance of the bank is one of those sights.

The entrance is collapsed in it on itself, letting in only sparse beams of light inside through broken windows and cracks on the cement, leaving it pretty dim, but it’s the right amount of light to let you see how moss and greenery have slowly claimed the destruction, and the way the puddled rain water glimmers on the ground.

“It’d suck to make it this far in our trip and get killed by debris,” Jesse comments as he follows you, and you follow your Uncle through the maze that debris made.

“Don’t worry.” Your Uncle chuckles. “It’s probably been like this for years. It ain't collapsin’ today…maybe.”

You muster a smile, and Jesse feigns a laugh at your Uncle’s very reassuring comment.

“I see a way inside just over there,” your Uncle points out, but you don’t catch what he does right away. You have to walk in just a little further to see the gap he pointed out, and once you do, you and Jesse go completely serious again.

However, before you can walk through the gap to see what the inside holds, your uncle brings you all to a stop to listen first.

You don’t hear anything right away, so your Uncle grabs a pebble and throws it inside, causing two growls to respond, and letting you see a picture of what you could find inside. Albeit it’s blurry since you can’t be sure if it’s just two infected until you’re inside.

“Okay, Jesse, you’ll go in with me and help me take out the infected. Sunny,” he whispers directly at you before you can argue. “You stay here until I come back to give you all the clear, okay?” He presses, and you part your lips to argue, but he cuts in right away.

“I wasn’t askin’ for your opinion. I just wanted to know if you caught all that.”

You huff and challenge his gaze for a second before you nod stiffly.

“Good. Now keep your eyes and ears open,” he reminds you before he turns away and leads the way again. You don’t cross that threshold, but you walk to the edge and peek out, catching a glimpse of Jesse and your Uncle before you hear the nerve-wracking sound of clickers, giving the answer as to what kind of infected the men will be facing, and making you think about disobeying your Uncle.

You believe that both men will be able to handle the clickers, but it doesn't take away from the fact that you’ll be a big advantage.

Yet, you don’t jump down to the ground floor to join them. You stay put and watch them creep away and get out of sight to try and catch the clickers off guard to make as little fuss as possible.

You try to strain your ear, but you can hear the clicking sound of clickers, which is a good thing. It means their plan to sneak up on them is working.

However, it’s because it’s quiet and you’re trying to be even quieter that you hear the sound of rubble falling in the water. At first, you think nothing of it. It must be natural because of the state of this place, but you hear it again, and followed by that is the sound of bare flesh hitting the cement.

It can’t be your horses because you left them near the entrance, plus their hoofs wouldn’t sound like that. It’s…some kind of infected, and basing it off how quiet it is, you’re assuming it’s a Stalker.

You can only be sure if you look, so you slowly reach for your revolver before you very slowly start to churn your head.

Just as you catch a glimpse of its ugly face and prove that it’s in fact a Stalker, suddenly the monster lunges at you, causing you to scream, and since you’re on the ledge, you lose balance and fall inside the bank with your back slamming on the ground and the infected landing on top of you.

The noise of the altercation alerts the clickers, making Jesse and your Uncle have to resort to charging at them instead. All while you try with all your might to hold the Stalker back and keep it from biting you, and honestly, finding a way to get it off you is quite easy. You can do it, but you choose to struggle. You see the potential in letting it take a nip of your flesh and choose to struggle.

And oh, the thought of having no choice but to accept death's comforting embrace is tempting because it means that you would be able to be there again. The peaceful afterlife you left. There would be no choice around it, you would be there again with Sarah, your mom, and most importantly, your dad.

You’d get to apologize for not trying harder this time. You’d remind him that you love him and that no place could ever be home if he wasn’t with you. Most importantly, you’d be able to feel like you aren’t getting choked and crushed by the incredible weight pressing down on you.

You’d be weightless and pain-free…

Yet just as you start to picture that perfect afterlife, the image of Ellie’s empty chair flashes in your mind, and your mind is bombarded with the thought of her.

Guilt and the reminder of why you chose to live in the first place seeps right back inside, and you gain the will and the might to shove the Stalker off of you.

Before it can come charging at you or go hide, you drag yourself to your ass and hit the trigger of your gun not just once, but three times until you make sure it won’t even twitch.

After that, once the Stalker is dead, you look for your Uncle and Jesse, catching your Uncle hitting his armored Clicker with the end of his rifle over and over again. It’s already dead, but he keeps hitting it with so much force that its head gets crushed into smithereens.

Jesse, on the other hand, seemed to have shot his clicker and left it alone once it was lifeless, so you catch him walking over to you now.

“Is it clear?” You ask as he walks over.

“The commotion would have made any others come out so, it seems like it, yeah,” he assures you, and the moment he reaches you, he offers you his hand like a nice gentleman, so you accept his help and get up on your feet with some struggle.

There’s no sharp pain. Just aches from all the falling today.

Nevertheless, your uncle seems to snap out of whatever spell had him obliterating that Clicker, the moment he catches a glimpse of you standing on your given height.

At first, he calls out your name as his contorted face comes undone and expresses pure concern. After that, he rushes over to you. “Are you okay?” He asks as he studies you. “You weren’t bit were you?”

You meet his dark, worried gaze and feel more guilt hitting you for wanting to leave your Uncle behind when all he does is worry about you.

“No,” you assure him softly, and without thinking, you step forward to wrap him in an embrace that catches him off guard. “I’m okay. Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes get glossy.

“Good,” your Uncle scoffs with confusion mixing with his relief. “I’m glad. Now, why don’t we find the vault to rest? You need it.”

“We all do,” you add and pull back to face both men.

“Come on then,” your uncle says without wasting another minute before leading the way through the now empty bank.

“I wonder why that clicker had armor on,” you fill the silence as you walk past the armored clicker. “Is that how armed the security was at banks?”

“No,” your Uncle answers your curiosity. “There were securities sometimes, but never armed like that. Not unless someone was trying to rob the bank.”

You hum and let a short silence fall as you reach the deposit box area, finding at that moment, an old corpse by an empty duffle bag.

That explains the armored Clicker and the other clicker Jesse took down.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Your Uncle muses as all three of you walk into the room.

“It didn’t seem like it was his lucky day,” Jesse comments as you look at the scene on the floor.

“A lot of people started breaking into banks when the outbreak happened,” your Uncle shares as he walks to the duffle to look through it. “With the whole world erupting into chaos, everyone thought it would be easy to get rich or get stuff otherwise unattainable. I guess nobody thought it would be the end of the world until it was.”

You walk away to look around at all the deposit boxes still locked and hiding riches that will always be hidden away.

“Why would people keep stuff here?” Jesse asks as he also departs from your Uncle to also take a look around.

“Well, this place was protected, so instead of leaving it all vulnerable at home, some people trusted the bank to keep their money or valuables safe.”

“I saw this movie with Apollo once where the bank workers would replace the jewelry with fake jewelry to be able to cash it,” you mention and sigh as you start to miss your husband and your baby.

“Oh yeah,” Jesse chimes in as he snaps his fingers. “I’ve seen that movie before. It was really good.”

You hum and start to drag your feet. “I miss Apollo and Teddy. I wish phones worked,” you grumble and turn as you see nothing worthwhile—“that’s something I miss.”

Your Uncle gets up with a paper in hand and chuckles at you. “You were four before, who would you call?” He teases.

You grab your back straps and start to walk back towards him. “Well, you,” you remind him, making him scoff in amusement. “And I would call…my…dad,” you trail off into a whisper. “That’s all, but hey,” you say louder with a faint smile. “I have people I can call now. That’s why I miss them.”

“We’ll be back home soon,” your Uncle tries to assure you. “Now, thank these stupid bank robbers for leaving the code to the vault,” your uncle shows off. “We’ll be able to stay inside for the night and not have a lookout.”

Jesse claps quietly, and you look over at the corpse. “Thank you,” you direct at if before you follow your uncle to the giant metal door.

You try to help after he unlocks it, but he pushes you away and makes Jesse help open the door.

“And welcome,” your uncle tries to make light of the night. “Take a breath and take the night off from all the worry. We’ll be able to sleep comfortably tonight.”

“Is that so?” Jesse doubts the area, and he has every right to, but your uncle is right.

“Yeah, it is,” you assure him as you walk in first, seeing a skeleton inside. Only this one dons armor, and holds onto a shotgun they seemed to have used to end their misery.

“We would stay in places like this often,” you continue as you grab the armored skeleton and drag it out past the big door so it’s not an eyesore in the room.

“If someone does try to come in, we’ll hear them struggle to open the door,” your Uncle adds. “That will give us time to react. That’s why Joel chose to stay in places like these in the beginning. Sunny was a little girl, so we took extra precautions.”

You don’t comment on the memory or try to recall those old days. You drop the skeleton and walk back inside to wander around, seeing that the deposit boxes are open in this room, so you snoop through them as Jesse and your Uncle gather abandoned money to use for a fire to have light and make the room warm.

“What would the old you from the old world think about you doing this?” Jesse asks your Uncle. “I mean you were all dependent on this, weren’t you?”

“Well, first, I would assume I was insane or crazy rich,” your uncle says. “And second, yes, this was once our livelihood. We didn’t have a lot of it, but…we were happy.”

“I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve looked like if I got to live in the old world,” Jesse keeps filling the silence, making you peer over with an amused smile. “Maybe I would’ve been in construction like you.”

Your uncle scoffs. “Ah, nah. Think bigger. I was lame.”

“You said you were happy,” Jesse counters, making you smirk. “Doesn’t sound bad to me.”

Your uncle goes quiet for a moment, and a match strikes before he offers him a response. “I never appreciated it until after. Until it was all gone. I imagine that was everyone’s life story.”

You turn away from the pair and hear a fire start as you continue to snoop through, noticing a silver ring in one of the open boxes and immediately taking it as you think about Apollo.

“Look at this,” you call for everyone's attention and turn to show the ring off. “You think Apollo will like it?” You ask as you bring the ringer closer, as you see words engraved on it. “His wedding band is good, but I always wanted something better for him. This looks better. Besides, he deserves it for being so understanding of my decision.”

“I think it’ll be nice, Sunny, take it,” your uncle backs up your choice before he also sounds thoughtful. “I should get something for Maria and Benji too.”

You smile at him and assure him. “I’ll keep my eye out for you,” you let him know, and finally recognize that the words engraved on the ring are Latin, but you have no idea what it means.

‘Sic Parvis Magna’

Apollo's dad can probably figure it out. He was a university teacher who taught about Ancient Greece and other ancient stuff.

“Thank you,” your uncle says back. “Now, let's close that door and gather for dinner. We should take advantage of the extra security to get as much sleep as we can before we have to leave. Plus, you,” he points at you. “You need to rest. You’ve been through it today. You need it.”

You hum in agreement and go on to help with what you can, or with what they let you help with. Which is not a lot, they let you take tonight easy because of your concussion and the tumble that left your body aching.

It does feel quite odd letting yourselves be so relaxed though, after weeks on the road having to be on guard and look over your shoulder. So much so that at first you’re all so tense, but after a while, once you’re all reassured that no one is coming in and no infected is lurking outside, you all exhale and let yourselves loose. You share stories, and mostly answer Jesse’s curiosities about the old world because he likes to hear about your Uncle’s past, and no matter how many times you’ve heard it, you never tire of the stories he tells.

There was even a moment when you were all gathered around the fire that you laughed. You genuinely laughed a hearty laugh.

The action felt so foreign yet so…good, like everything that torments you would be temporary and you’d be alright.

Maybe you should’ve hung onto that feeling to try and mend your broken soul, but you remembered why you’re so far from home and the events that caused it, and that small taste of healing vanishes, leaving your world broken again.

Only as you come off this high, you hurt so much worse. As if it happened for the first time. That’s why you can’t sleep, or you choose not to, because you know the nightmares that await you, and Apollo is not here to keep you grounded or make you feel safe.

Staying awake won’t help you feel better about your injuries, but you’d rather spend a sleepless night than have to go through the memories that torment you at night. Besides, it seems like you’re not the only one awake.

In the darkness that swallows the room, you see Jesse getting out of his sleeping bag, so after a while of giving him time to himself, you join him in a corner filled with more stacks of money.

“It’s crazy to me that this paper controlled the world,” he whispers thoughtfully.

“I had a piggy bank once,” you share as you’re on the topic of money again. “I kept my allowance in it. Of course, I wouldn’t get the big bucks like my sister, but I would get dollar bills from my dad, my uncle, or the neighbors.”

Jesse chuckles, and you smile softly.

“Oh yeah, I was really well-liked, but that’s beside the point,” you brush it off and continue with your story. “I was saving up for this beautiful princess tea set. That was all I was saving up for, so when the time came to go buy it, I collected all my money, went to the store, grabbed my princess tea set, and put my money on the counter…guess how much I had.”

Jesse shakes his head before he gives you a response. “More than enough?”

You scoff. “Five dollars. The princess tea set was fifteen.”

“So all that saving up…what was it for?”

You sigh. “Ice cream and candy. I had wasted my money on ice cream and candy. Every time I went to the store or the ice cream truck passed, I used my money. That’s where it all went,” you share with disappointment. “I was devastated.”

“Let me guess,” Jesse adds. “Your dad put in the rest?”

You smile softly right away and nod. “Yeah, he did, and then when we got home, I dressed up my dad and my sister, and we had tea.” You smile wider at the faint memory, but as the darkness once again consumes you, you grow sorrowful.

A silence proceeds to blanket you and Jesse for a moment, letting you both take a seat on the uncomfortable stack of money and focus on nothing and everything the room holds.

“Can I ask you something?” Jesse asks, breaking the silence and drifting your gaze to him.

“Shoot,” you encourage him, making him sigh and welcome a short silence before he lifts his head and turns it to face you.

At first, you can’t make him out in the darkness, but as he lets the silence build, you slowly make out his face, catching a boy-like curiosity. Not one that makes his eyes twinkle, but a curiosity that adds a weight to the conversation, as you know he’s about to be vulnerable.

“How can you put on such a brave face in the face of danger?” He finally asks, making your eyebrows twitch together before you question something.

“You aren’t a coward. I actually admire your bravery and your courage. You're hard to scare, so what do you mean?”

Jesse sighs deeply and averts his gaze to explain himself. “Today, when you fell in the river, you looked anything but scared. And earlier, with that Infected, your face never once showed a glimpse of fear. Are you just used to this world? Or what’s your secret? I’m genuinely curious.”

You falter, and that secret you’ve been keeping from them threatens to come out. “I am scared,” you reveal. “All the time, I just…” You trail off and swallow thickly, feeling your secret press harder to come out as it's just you and him. Your uncle is sleeping, it's just you and Jesse.

Yet it’s the thought that Jesse will know that makes you fight to keep in what you feel.

“I won’t share your secret,” he presses, making your eyes flicker back to him and feel your breath hitch, but that need to keep everything in keeps holding on.

“…I just can’t let it get the best of me,” you continue with what you were saying. “Or it will consume me…” You trail off again and drop your head, hiding that desperate desire to speak your mind.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse cuts in, changing the subject bluntly. “When I went to you about going after Ellie, I pushed. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

You shrug softly. “I needed it. I couldn’t afford letting her get days ahead or even reach Seattle before I made up my mind,” you assure him before you face him and probe. “Why did you come though? Is it to help Dina?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “No, it’s not just about her,” he shares. “It’s about Ellie, too. I would have gone with them if they had asked. Begrudgingly, but I would have. My friends' problems are my problems.”

You smile in admiration right away as you nod slowly in comprehension. “Nice,” you praise him and avert your gaze again.

As Jesse doesn’t get what he was initially searching for, he boldly crosses that threshold you had kept between you, your uncle, and him.

“What was that hesitation with the infected about?”

You act surprised, but he’s not as patient anymore. He’s persistent and worried.

“I promised my friend Apollo I would look after you, I intend to keep my promise.”

You scoff softly and shake your head, hesitating just a moment longer but finally finding a foothold to slowly tear that wall down. “That day my dad died,” you begin to share slowly. “They caught me off guard, and no matter how hard I tried, how reckless I was, I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t…I couldn’t save him, and now I see it every day as if it happened yesterday. It torments me while I’m awake and in my sleep, and I can’t…it’s,” your voice quivers. “It’s crushing me. That’s why I came…to find an end to my torment because it hurts. It hurts so much.” You cry but immediately cover your mouth to not wake up your uncle.

“It’s selfish, I know,” you say what you assume Jesse is thinking. “But that’s my secret. A desire to die.” You exhale deeply and slide your hands off your face before you keep going as you can’t make yourself stop and need to make it sound better.

“And I found it. My escape. When I fell into that river, I had a choice. I was…home in Texas, and I felt so weightless. Not only that, but I was with…her…my sister, my mom, and…my dad. I was home, and it felt…so good. Every bone and muscle in my body told me to stay,” you whisper. “I felt that need so deeply inside me that for a moment…it was no longer a choice, but then…there was an empty chair with a name card on it. Ellie’s,” you pause and wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“I tried to fight myself, but then I thought of how alone she’ll be, and I know…I know she has you, Dina, and everyone else, but there’s this connection only she and I share. A connection only she and I know because no one loved him like we did and…I thought about how alone she would be if I did slip away, and…that thought brought me back. She did,” you finish saying and keep wiping tears off your face.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse tries to offer some consolation. “And I think you made the right choice. As costly as it seemed.”

You sniffle. “I’m horrible,” you can’t help but spill. “I didn’t even think about my family. I was so ready. It hurt so much to come back because I was with him, but then I wasn’t. I…I,” you can’t finish saying, and drop your head to cry as quietly as possible.

“Just,” you add as you wipe your face and face him again. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not her. I’ll be good now,” you reassure him. “I’m trying. I am. For her.”

“I won’t,” Jesse whispers as he watches how much you struggle to stop from sobbing.

He had watched you from his seat the entire time because he didn’t know how to help, but now as he sees you crying but also trying to stop, he cups your shoulder before he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in against him so you can find some comfort in his embrace.

And you do. In your most vulnerable moment, you find comfort in your friend.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. SEATTLE*

“The Evergreen State, home of the Dodgers,” you break the silence as you come across a trail sign that gives two different directions; one that points to Arboretum and the Seattle Trail. You all follow the Seattle Trail, of course.

“No,” your uncle snorts. “Not even close. Mariners.”

“Oh.”

“Los Ángeles was home to the Dodgers.”

You rest your chin on your horse's head and become reminiscent. “Apollo watches old Re-runs of baseball games with his dad and brother. I can never get into them though. It’s the same games over and over again.”

“They could say the same thing about your movies,” your Uncle quips, making you loll your head to the side to look at him with a pointed glare.

“Yeah. I’ll let you have that old man,” you mutter. “Touché.”

You then continue to sigh and glance up at the tall green trees that almost touch the sky. Wyoming doesn’t have trees this tall, you wish there were because they’re so fascinating, but you’re also so terrifying in a sense. They’re like giants.

“I’ll give it to Washington. Their forests are beautiful,” you muse. “They’re so…green…” You trail off and glance at your two trusted companions, catching Jesse not even giving you the time of day, while your uncle rolls his eyes, making you smile faintly before you sit up. At that moment, catching the whiff of something completely foul.

The further you walk, the stronger that smell gets. It even burns your nose, but the smell is not strange. You all know it well and don’t take long to come across the violent scene in the middle of the dirt path.

You are only a few miles in, and you’re already coming across corpses of what were once living humans. Not infected. And it’s not just a couple; just past the thickness of some greenery is a group of them. All slaughtered and all seeming to be donning similar green coats that almost make them go unnoticed if their pale, lifeless face didn’t stand out against the dark dirt.

“Do these look like W.L.F? Could it have been them?” Jesse asks as he studies the violent scene to make sure that neither of the women you knew was amongst them.

“No,” you ease his worry. “These don’t look like W.L.F. They were ordinary clothes and,” you pause and look back at the body of the man you passed with a white painted symbol that was nothing like a wolf. This symbol is like…an eye? Or something astrological?

“…they didn’t have that symbol or use the same coat,” you let Jesse and your Uncle know. “But…these are too many to have been taken down by Dina and Ellie alone. Maybe it was W.L.F. That girl,” you avoid saying her name. “Did hint at Seattle being dangerous. Or something…so maybe this is a glimpse of it.”

Your Uncle hums before you hear him tighten his hands against his reign.

“Whatever it may be,” your uncle comments with his eyes narrowed ahead. “Let’s try not to get caught in the middle of it and hope Dina and Ellie are trying to do the same. Come on, it's better not to stop. Someone could be close.”

You steal one glance at the violent scene, and from what you can tell, they were all taken down by gunshots, and a lot of them died with melee weapons. No firearms.

Maybe they got taken after they died?

Whatever the case, you push away your curiosities and pay even closer attention to the tall trees, just in case there’s people hiding up there like when you were in Kansas.

Luckily, besides critters and birds, there’s nothing else that inhabits the trees, and after crossing a few miles, you find the freeway and thankfully leave the thick of the woods.

You are far more exposed now because you don’t have the cover of the trees, which is the downside, but at least you don’t have to be scared that there's people lurking up there.

Now all you have to worry about is if there’s people lurking around you, or if you’ve been accidentally spotted. So far, everything along the freeway is truly abandoned. There’s no sign of life or Infected, just Mother Earth consuming the manmade cars that were left on the freeway, and the manmade highway itself.

Eventually, you end up at the end of a bridge that either deteriorated or was blown up like the other major cities. Either way, you reach the high point and get the perfect view of the city, wondering instead of admiring what dangers such a beautiful city holds.

Ellie is somewhere inside there. In danger, hiding, close to Abby, or…hurt. You can’t think of the other alternative. It’s too grim and threatens to shove you back into that coma-like state.

“Listen,” your uncle interjects. “When we enter the city. We’ll take our separate ways. Sunny, you and Jesse stick together, and I’ll go off alone,” your uncle brings up without facing you because he knows he’ll see your disbelief and disagreement.

“No,” he blurts before you can cut in. “You cannot come with me,” he makes you shut up. “We’ll cover more ground this way, and I'd prefer it if Jesse didn’t go off alone. So yes, you have to stay with him.”

You huff and pout as you stare off at the nearby city.

“We’ll meet up again in the morning,” he continues and points to a spot on a map you found in an abandoned gas station just before you got into the city.

“What if you end up in danger? How are we supposed to find you then?” You argue either way and snap your head to pierce your glare into him. “The city is fucking huge. It’s better if we stick together! That girl said this place was dangerous!”

“And if we stick together, we won’t even cover a quarter of the city,” your uncle argues and finally faces you. “If we separate, we cover more ground, so I’m not arguin’ with you about it.”

You scowl and look away to grumble your defeated response. “Fine.”

“Take care of each other, and if you find the girls, throw them on your horses or tie them. Whatever it is, just bring them back. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jesse confirms that he understands what you need to do, making your uncle move his horse closer to you to pick on you now.

“We'll meet in the mornin’. I swear.”

You slowly look back at him as you hear his attempt to assure you and keep your frown plastered as you retort. “If not, I will come after ya. I’m not goin’ home without you. Together, remember?” You bring up since it seems appropriate now that you’re traveling on the road like the old days.

“How can I forget?” he says lightheartedly and flashes you a small smile. “Now let’s go. Let’s see each other off.”

Knowing he’s right, but not admitting it, you continue toward the city. Yet the only difference is when you come off the highway, you break apart like the old faded lanes that lead to different streets of what was once a buzzling city.

You and Jesse try to keep quiet as you roam the quiet streets, not because you still don’t have the energy to make conversation. After your heart-to-heart with Jesse, that wall you kept up has slowly come down, and you let your voice be heard more. You’re not just a quiet listener anymore; you join their conversations and tell them stories about everything and anything that comes to mind. Even of the past. Or at least the parts that didn’t stab your heart to recollect. So that’s not why you keep quiet.

You don’t want to draw unwanted attention. You’re already walking through the city on horses, so you don’t want to put yourselves at even more risk by talking.

“We should find somewhere to hide our horses,” you bring up. “We’re gonna stick out regardless, but this way it’ll be somewhat easier to blend in.”

“Yeah,” Jesse sighs as he keeps scanning the area without daring to miss an inch. “That’s smart. One of these buildings shall do it. It’ll help if we keep them close to our way out of the city, just in case we have to make some hasty escape.”

You nod and scan the area until a music store catches your eye.

“There!” You point out. “The windows are covered. Let’s keep ‘em there.”

You nudge your horse to walk faster to reach the store quicker as you feel an inkling of excitement seep through.

Nevertheless, and as expected, the doors are closed.

“I’ll find a way in,” Jesse volunteers. “Stay here.”

Without another choice, you agree and watch him disappear into an alley before you start to look over your shoulders, making sure that you don’t catch anything suspicious, and finding yourself find this silence more terrifying than any monster.

Alas, nothing comes out from any corner or any building. The ghost is clear, and it seems that Jesse comes across the same luck because he opens the doors rather quickly.

“Look at you,” you muse as you hop off your horse to lead yours and Jesse’s inside. “Good job.”

“Team Jackson!” He exclaims and puts his hand up to offer you a high five as you reach the doors.

“Yeah!” You giggle and let the reins go to give him a high five. “Team Jackson!”

“The store is clear and by the looks of it, it has grass growing in so they can eat that while we’re gone,” he says after you return to the horses and continue to lead them inside.

Once he closes the doors behind you and barricades the store again, you let the reins go and let yourself be in complete awe by the store.

“What richness,” you muse as you take in all the different kinds of music that's still left behind. “If only I had infinite space in my backpack. I’d take it all home, oh, and look!” You point out and run over to the folk section to snatch a Joan Baez album off the shelf. “My queen of Folk music, Joan Baez. My uncle said my mama loved her.” You smile at the album but also curse the fact that you can’t play it right now.

“If only we had room. All this music wouldn’t collect dust at Jackson,” Jesse says, thinking more selflessly, whereas all you think about is your collection. “I’m sure…people would love to hear some of that be played at a fall fair?” He asks as he tries to discreetly press you to rethink about your abandoned dream of having a fair at Jackson.

Lately, him and your uncle have been bringing up the idea, but that excitement and dream died with…your dad. You just let both men try to insist because you don’t want to be rude and turn them down. They can still have a fair, you just won’t be a part of it.

“Hm, maybe,” you say without that initial enthusiasm, and put the album down to start walking down the site with your fingers raising the dust off the music people forgot about.

“Let’s head out before we lose more time here,” you bring an end to all the excitement and return a sorrow that was such a constant companion in your group.

Once you collect the things you need and go back outside, the tension lingers until you speak up “Joan Baez has a song called ‘Jesse’. Fun fact.”

Said man glances over at you and probes. “Really?”

You glance at him, too, and nod. “Yep. When we get back home, listen to it. Maybe it’s not your thing, but it’s still cool. You can pretend she’s singing about you, considering your girl might have been stolen.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t get hurt or bothered by your comment.

“Maybe you are right,” he mutters. “After this. Maybe I’ll take your advice about officially cutting things off.”

You pat his shoulder. “Yeah, I would like that for you. You’re young, take advantage of that and explore your options. Or don’t. Up to you. Maybe you’ll meet someone here. Won’t that be romantic?” You tease, making him crack a smile.

“I guess I’ll see. Maybe this trip has changed Dina. Maybe we can work things out,” he says, and as to not take sides, you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah. Maybe. We’ll have to find her to know. Hopefully they’re okay,” you trail off into a whisper.

“I’m sure they will be,” he tries to assure him and you. “They’re smart and work well together.”

You hum in agreement, and as you scan the area as you turn the corner, you think about Ellie and hope with every fiber of your body that she’s okay. You can’t…imagine her not being okay. The thought, it…utterly terrifies you and threatens to send you down that dark cycle again…

That’s why you hang onto Jesse’s attempt at reassuring you as you wander the streets of Seattle, trying to go undetected by the threats that make this city so dangerous.

However, just as you note how calm and quiet it’s all been, Abby’s warning starts to come into fruition as out of hiding, canisters hit the ground.

Jesse and you catch where the canisters land and notice that they’re smoke screens, but no matter how fast you react, you can’t avoid them. They go off, and your ears begin to ring, while your eyes begin to sting because of the thick clouds of smoke, and your lungs get polluted by the same poison, leaving you dazed and desperate to find Jesse.

He was next to you, he can’t be far.

“Jesse?!” You call out between coughs and pull out your gun as you begin to walk in the direction he was just in before the smoke broke you apart.

“Jesse?!”

Seconds later, your name is shouted back, and the smoke begins to clear from the air and your body by the second, so you’re less dazed, but you still can’t see him. Or anything else for that matter. You can only hear different footsteps all around you.

“Jesse!”

“Here,” a stranger speaks up for the man you’re looking for and comes out of the smoke with a mask and gun.

In response, you point yours at your head, but then, from behind you, before you can shoot, something cold and hard hits the back of your head, leading to a void of darkness.

A/N- some game scenes are you excited??

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @hardbeingcasual @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @sunsumonner @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion @mmkkzz @avitute @fuckmebobboys @kitdjarin1 @barnes70stark

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herofics · 3 days ago

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No Longer Mine, part 5

A/N: Me and my very consistent posting schedule thank you for you patience lol. Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here and part 4 here

Gojo wasn't sure how to react to your hand on his arm. Was he supposed to shake it off? Or maybe, he could use it to his advantage. If it angered Ava, she might slip up and reveal something she didn't mean to. So Gojo placed his hand on top of yours and gave you a smile.

"I'm fine, thank you for worrying about me" he said as you took your hand back.

"No problem?" you said, raising a brow with a bit of a surprised look on your face.

You were a bit puzzled by Gojo's reaction, but you quickly caught onto what he was trying to do, so you decided to play along.

"You're just throwing yourself at him, aren't you? You cheap slut. Don't you get it, he doesn't want you anymore, he has me now" Ava said venomously.

Gojo was flabbergasted by this woman's delusional belief in her relationship with him. As if he would ever stay with her after she hurt you. It was as if she believed she hadn't done anything wrong.

"I don't really care what you think of me. I just want to ask, why? Obviously, you never had a chance with him while I was around, but why not just kill me? Wouldn't that have been easier?" you asked, taking Gojo's hand in yours to try to rile her up.

Again, you touching him made him freeze for just a second. Your hand felt so familiar in his, it was a bit rougher than it was almost five years ago. What had you gone through during your missing time? Did you even know yourself? Even if you did, would you ever tell him?

"Don't touch him!" Ava screeched, straining against her bindings.

She struggled for a moment, before stopping and looking at you with that same hatred in her eyes as when you'd first entered the room.

"You were supposed to die, but the guy I hired, apparently didn't feel like following my instructions. Who knows what he did to you during those four years you were gone. You still don't have any memories of that time, do you?" she smirked maliciously.

You almost let go of Gojo's hand and took a step back in shock at what she was implying, but he held onto you, not letting you waver. Something had certainly happened to you during your missing time, after you woke up in the hospital, you noticed you had a lot more scars than before. Someone had done something to you, and the only clues you had were the vague nightmares you suffered from and the scars covering your body. Did she know? Did she know who had taken four years of your life and what they had done with it?

"Tell me what happened to me" you said with a quiet but clear voice.

"I'll tell you, if you get your filthy hands off my fiancé" she demanded.

You looked at Gojo, and even though it pained him, he let go of your hand.

"Good… I don't actually know what happened to you after that guy took you, I was under the impression he killed you as we agreed. I thought you burned with the house. When you showed up half a year ago it was just as much of a surprise for me as it was for everyone else" she scoffed.

"But you did organize it? You paid some guy to burn down our home and kill (Name), but he took them instead, and did god knows what to them for four years?!" Gojo seethed.

You looked at him again, and he looked enraged. Gojo had balled his hands into fists, and you could see and hear him breathing heavily.

"Okay, okay, you're taking a break" you said, stepping between Gojo and Ava. "Out" you commanded, but Gojo didn't budge.

You placed your hand on his chest, which finally got him peel his eyes off of Ava. "Out of the room, now" you hissed and pushed him back a bit.

Gojo turned on his heels, and left the detention room, leaving you and Ava alone. He saw you disappear behind the door as it closed, was it really a good idea for you to be left alone with her? Gojo resisted the urge to hit the wall next to him as he leaned against it and slumped down to the floor. He was just so angry. Was this his fault? Had he somehow enticed Ava, caused her to do all of this? Were the horrors you had gone through his fault? He just couldn't get the idea out of his head. Gojo wasn't used to spiraling like this.

He could hear your voice from inside the detention cell, but he couldn't make out what you were saying.

"You're seriously unwell if you think Gojo would ever take you back after what you did" you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stay calm.

"He loves me, and you were getting in the way of our relationship, he'll understand" Ava stated, like it justified everything she had done.

"You're delusional. Gojo is a good person, he would never continue being with someone like you after he knows what you've done"

You were quite sure there was nothing you could say to her that would make her understand she was wrong. She was so sure she had done nothing wrong, that you were the bad guy, because you had gotten in her way. She didn't know anything about your missing time, so you were still mostly left without answers.

"I came here, wanting to kick your head in for what you did to me, but now I mostly just feel pity for you. Enjoy the rest of your life, or what little you have left of it anyway" you said, before turning away and leaving the room.

The door shut behind you, and you could feel this wave of frustration overtaking you, as you hit the wall in front of you. You still didn't have answers, you still didn't know why you were plagued with nightmares or where the scars on your body had come from.

"Did she say something that upset you?" Gojo asked, getting up from the floor.

"It's more like what she didn't say. She doesn't know anything about my missing time" you sniffled.

"What if you never find out? What then?" Gojo asked, standing too close to you again, looking you in the eyes intensely.

"I don't know" you said, taking a small step back to put at least a little bit of distance between yourself and him.

"Is it really so unbearable for you to be close to me?" the words fell out of his mouth before he could think.

"I don't know… I don't blame you for what happened, but… we're not together anymore, I'm with Kento now and-"

"You could leave him" Gojo interrupted.

"No, he's good to me, and I love him. I've moved on" you shook your head

"You loved me too… once" Gojo said, his voice heavy with sadness.

"I still do, in some way, but I can't be with you anymore…" you were fiddling with your sleeve, looking down at the floor.

Finally, hearing you say that, broke his heart. In some corner of his mind, he had held out hope, ever since he saw you in that hospital bed. He had held out hope that the two of you would be together again. Now that you had made it clear there was no chance of that, he felt broken, as if he had lost you all over again, and in a way he had. You weren't dead, but you were out of his reach, probably forever.

"I need to go" you muttered and rushed past Gojo, leaving him just standing there, alone.

Leaving Gojo alone with Ava might not have been the smartest move, but you couldn't stay. You didn't want to look at him, you didn't want to hear the pain in his voice. You knew he was in pain, but you left him alone anyway. Sometimes you had to protect your own peace. His feelings weren't your responsibility, you weren't responsible if he did something stupid. Some little part of you hoped he would rip her apart, but you also didn't want him to do that, you knew he would regret it if he did. He had loved her too, and it wasn't so easy to get rid of those kinds of feelings, you were well aware of that.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #nanami kento #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst

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jks1uv · 1 day ago

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𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡-𝑚𝑒-𝑛𝑜𝑡 ; bruce wayne | one-shot |

summary: many people undergo significant change in their lives over the course of 7 years. you fear bruce wayne may be one of them.

pairing: fem!reader x bale!bruce wayne.

trope: estranged childhood best friends to lovers.

genre: angst + hurt / comfort.

warnings‼️: crude language + reader gets kidnapped & is dosed up on scarecrow’s drugs + a depiction of mild violence + 1 mention of guns + 1 mention of cockroaches (one of reader’s fears).

word count: 4,301.

random disclaimerrr: bold + italics = flashbacks! currently rewatching christopher nolan’s batman trilogy & i’ve realized that i can never just be normal abt finding a man attractive. like i just have to imagine scenarios & be like “write that down, write that down!”. i got carried away once again lmaoo but i couldn't help myself. happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

7 long, hard years have gone by begrudgingly slow. It’s been 7 years since the last time you saw your best friend.

They say the Prince of Gotham just up and vanished into thin air. Some say he’s still here, just hiding out to avoid the attention. Though, everyone agrees that he ran away because he couldn’t handle the responsibility of his father’s empire.

It’s bullshit, it’s all bullshit. You know that— believe that.

Bruce Wayne is many things: an asshole, a genius, a dear friend.

He would never take the coward’s way out and just disappear on you and Alfred.

He wouldn't because you mean just as much to him as he means to you. Right?

Your anxiety never went away, you just learned to cope with his abrupt disappearance well.

Not a day went by that you didn't miss him, didn't regret how your last meeting went.

Your hand flies up before you could even register it, striking down 2 hard slaps to his now reddened cheek. You stare at him in disappointment, your eyes becoming glassy with anger and sadness.

“Your father would be ashamed of you.”

The contrast of your voice to your words are stark, you're spiteful yet soft-spoken.

Bruce stares at you in shock, not believing you could ever say that to him.

He thought you out of all people would understand him, see where he's coming from. Why couldn't you?

His disbelief morphs into annoyance and agitation. His hand comes up to find your door handle and he pulls on it while he maintains the hardened look on his face.

In that moment, he had turned into someone you no longer recognized. That man that was in your car just now? That wasn't your Bruce, not anymore.

The haunting realization makes you cry, your nose burns as the memories of who he used to be comes pouring down your cheeks.

You drive off, not caring about the fact that he just walked into Carmine Falcone's establishment.

He's a big boy now, right? He can handle himself.

You convince yourself that you're right to leave him by himself. You tell yourself that it'll be fine, worst comes to worst; he'll be dropped on his arrogant ass and you and Alfred will be there to tend his wounds.

Except that doesn't happen. You and Alfred never hear about what happened to him after he met Carmine Falcone.

You're violently shaken away and brought back to your harsh reality by your angry supervisor.

“L/n! I'm not paying you to daydream about shit you ain't got business daydreaming about!”

You sharply inhale, feeling a strong headache coming on from his shrill voice alone.

What a dick.

“Hey, you alright?” Your boss, Cal Lemmings smiles sympathetically.

As much of an asshole your supervisor is, your boss isn’t. He's more lenient and you don't get how he hasn't been fired yet.

“Yeah.” You tiredly exhale. “Just getting distracted, I guess.”

He hums in thought. “Why don't you take the rest of the day off? I'm sure I can get this taken care of.”

You immediately object. “Oh, Cal. No, you don't have to do that—”

“I want to. You don't have to feel bad, I promise.”

You blink and can't help but feel touched by his actions.

You've think about it for a second, taking into account your almost bleary eyes and exhausted mind.

“Alright.” You comply softly, the action makes your boss happy.

He smiles wide. “I'll give you a call once it's sorted.”

You kiss his cheek, thanking him once more to which he visibly blushes.

Unbeknownst to you, there was someone standing far away watching the whole ordeal.

He felt that ugly, green monster inside of him grip his tender heart strongly. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he turns around and walks away, his fingers curling into his palms in annoyance.

You’re at home when your landline rings.

“Hello?” You say, expecting it to be Cal.

Instead you hear nothing. Radio silence save for the faint breathing sounds.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

You get a little antsy when still, nothing.

Should you hang up? Maybe it’s a prank call.

You count to 10 in your head and decide if nobody speaks up, you’ll hang up.

Unsurprisingly, the person on the other end is dead set on being quiet.

“O…kay, have a nice day.” You say wearily as you hang the phone up.

Weird.

You felt as though the other person really wanted to say something but was holding back.

Oh well, not my problem.

You sit back down on the couch, getting comfortable under your throw blanket.

You close your eyes, letting your mind wander and tire itself out when the blasted phone rings again.

You huff in annoyance. “It better not be whoever that was.” You grumble.

“Yes?” You politely answer.

Of course, you’re proven wrong when it’s quiet on the other end.

You sigh, not wanting to deal with whoever this may be. “Look, I don’t have time for this. So, you can either tell me who you are or—”

You stop yourself when you hear Alfred’s voice in the background.

He was saying something along the lines of buying an antique set of some sort. His voice is now long drowned out as he just suddenly stops talking, as if he realized the silent recipient is on the phone.

You can feel your heartbeat now, the feeling becoming visceral as it thunders in your ears. Your palms grow clammy and you’re acutely aware of who this mystery caller is.

“…Bruce?” You whisper.

You’re shaking, the jittery feeling encapsulates your body but you don’t realize it. Your hand grips the handle of the telephone tight, the clammy grip hot and growing slippery.

“Bruce, is that you?”

You know it’s him, you feel it so deeply in your bones. Still, you ask because getting confirmation is so much better.

He stills, mind going blank. He’d forgotten everything he wanted to say, everything he rehearsed saying so this wouldn’t happen.

The prodigal son who had returned and spent quite some time upping his game with women, now has none of it.

You’re not even in his line of sight! You’re on the phone, a 20 minute drive away. Yet he’s speechless, wanting to hear more of your voice rather his own.

He’s unaware of your heart breaking.

“Bruce, I know it’s you. Just say something— anything, okay? Please.”

You’re on the verge of begging. You’re angry, hurt, confused, and most of all; betrayed.

How can he think of you as this dumb? You know it’s him, even if Alfred didn’t say a word you’d feel the same way.

He finds the courage. Bruce opens his mouth to reveal how much he’s missed you when he’s too late.

“Fine. Be that way.”

You hang up the phone with more force than you mean, the sound of it smacking the receiver loud.

A shaky breath reaches through the speaker and Bruce furrows his eyebrows in concern.

“H-Hello?” He finally asks.

The dial tone reverberates glaringly, as if to mock him for his lack of will; the will to act.

“Y/n?”

Still, nothing. Just sound of the dial tone and his regretful silence.

You fight the urge to go over to the Wayne Manor and give Bruce the cuss-out of his life.

You resist the temptation of seeing him, of telling him how much you’ve missed him.

Where have you been? Are you alright? Are you staying for long? Why’d you leave? Did you miss me like I’ve missed you? I’m sorry for everything I said, I didn’t truly mean any of it.

Truer words have never been spoken but due to your now last unofficial meeting, those words are better left unsaid, right?

You know you’ll regret this, you’ve let your pride get in the way before and now look. Was it worth it? Is it worth it now?

You know the answer to both of those questions: no. But what about him? Why can’t he shove his pride or ego or whatever it is he’s feeling aside and be a man?

You blink rapidly, trying to focus at the task at hand.

You’ve reread the same paragraph for the fifth time now because you keep getting distracted. You keep entertaining the war between your heart and mind.

A white fog emits from the AC vents, clouding up your office.

You cough hard, not knowing what’s happening.

Your door is burst open, a man in a strange mask enters your vision and you look in horror as cockroaches come out of his mouth and crawl over his face.

Your eyes are wide in paranoia and the strange, masked man mocks you.

“What, afraid of a little gas?”

Big, burly men are at your side and they take you away to this facility they make the said gas.

You’re screams are muffled, struggling against your binds blindfolded and mouth taped shut as they finish taping your legs to a wooden chair.

The blindfold makes you momentarily blind but the panic has already settled in. You’re burning up and can feel the sweat on your face and neck.

Your heartbeat is erratic, faster than ever.

You cry and feel your hoarse throat burn but you can’t do much else. You don’t know how to save yourself.

But you find out that you don’t have to.

Guns fire off in all directions and you pause your ministrations, paralyzed by fear.

Your nervousness only grows when the firing stops and you hear the screams of pure agony, fueled by the hard crunch of bones breaking.

Someone new has entered the arena.

He punches with expertise, grit running his mind.

You shakily breathe in and out, your hiccups muffled and your mouth dry.

You hear him walk closer to you, something pokes and prods beside your feet and you realize someone’s cutting the tape.

Someone’s here to set you free, to save you.

He then cuts through the tape that forced your wrists and is as gentle as he can be with the tape across your mouth.

You inhale deeply, almost gasp as the influx of air hits the lower half of your face.

You take your blindfold off, wanting to see who your savior is.

Your vision is still a bit blurry, lashes wet from your tears and cheeks flushed. Your lips are a bit swollen and chapped from the harsh tape.

The man in front of you is him.

Your eyes flutter shut, head lolling to the side as you slump to the side.

He grabs your shoulders and slowly puts you back in your recent position, then calculatingly picks you up.

He holds you close to him, your head rests directly atop his heart and your hands are folded inwards.

The masked hero has one hand holding your shoulder and the other under your knees.

He places you in his car and straps you in, your head lolling to the right and your nose is just a hair away from making contact with his.

He pauses and takes this short moment of close contact to see you.

Your pupils are blown wide, dilated to the max. They look between his own and contemplate the familiarity of them.

He moves away and shuts the door, moving to fast to get you both out of here.

“Hold on.” His voice gruff yet gentle.

His engine roars as he speeds off, the police hot on y’all’s tails.

The speedometer gradually spikes and your heart thumps loudly, you grab onto your seatbelt and breathe is short, sharp gasps.

He knew you’d be like this, you always hated it when he drove fast and reckless.

He watches you and feels guilty. “Breathe slowly, just breathe.”

You do as he says and manage to slow your breathing down but your fear isn’t showing signs of going away anytime soon.

He turns sharply and you’re jerked to the side, closing your eyes tight and breathing slow.

Soon, you find yourself falling into a calm, trance-like state where you’re almost asleep.

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes no matter how much he tells you to.

“Hey, hey. Don’t do that, wake up.”

You can’t.

“Stay with me, stay with me.”

He’s driving onto the property, making way into the cave as you slowly descend into an abysmal spiral.

The tumbler jumps out to the cave and he works quickly. Taking the antidote and injecting you with it, he prays it works faster than the gas.

He takes off his cowl and sets it aside, holding your hand in his.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’m so, so sorry.”

That night Batman may have won but it’s Bruce who feels like he’s lost.

You wake up in bed, finding yourself in your apartment.

You feel nauseous, grunting as you get up slowly.

As you freshen up, you decide to check the time and date only to realize you’ve been out for a whole day.

“What the fuck?!” You exclaim in shock.

How did I miss a whole day?!

Memories of the previous night comes rushing back to you; the strange masked man, you inhaling a hallucinogenic poison that made you see one of your worst fears, him.

He saved me.

You look down at your body in wonder and think how he managed to do that but then your personal phone rings.

You look at the saved contact only to see—

“Hey, Cal.”

“Y/n? Hey! Oh, thank goodness you’re alright. I-I called the day before yesterday and came by earlier yesterday but no response. Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I-I’m fine. Oh, gosh; I’m so sorry for worrying you. I was just, uhh, you know. Went out for a late night drive and then crashed at a friends place.”

You cringe internally at the lie but what were you supposed to say?

“Ahh, okay. Well, it’s good to hear from you. Have you seen the news lately?”

You walk to your television and turn it on. “No, not really. Why?”

He worriedly tells you about Batman’s latest bust and how Dr. Crane was creating a gas to make people crazy… or something adjacent to that.

You see footage from the car-chase you were very much involved in. The police are trying to flag him down but to no avail.

So that’s how I got home.

“Hello, Y/n? You there?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, yeah I’m here. Sorry but I’m gonna have to use up one of my sick days tomorrow.”

He wants to ask why but relents. It’s none of his business and as far as he’s concerned, you just need a day from whatever was troubling you a couple days ago.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Cal.”

You sigh and rub your temple trying to alleviate the mellow pain looming over your forehead.

As you recall past events, you can’t help but think about Bruce.

Are you being too harsh? Perhaps you’ve misjudged the entire situation.

After almost dying, people tend to reevaluate their whole lives and if petty things like grudges are necessary.

There hasn’t been much noise about Gotham’s favored son, maybe he’s trying to keep a low profile now that he’s back? Keep away from tabloids and paparazzi.

You’ve decided to go visit him, it’s his birthday today after all.

Maybe you can start over.

You put on your best dress and face, ready to see him again after so long.

Your nerves are getting the best of you as you walk up the concrete stairs, feeling a bit underdressed in your maroon velvet gown and black heels.

You walk in and not a thing has changed.

You grab a drink, wanting to cool yourself down before you change your mind.

You're unaware of the warm pair of eyes that spot you from across the room.

He didn't think you'd come, much less think about him.

He's elated, his lips curving in stirred happiness.

“Y/n?”

Oh shit.

You quickly gulp down the liquid in your mouth, cringing at the strong aftertaste before setting the cup down and swiftly showing yourself.

“Bruce.” You say startled.

He huffs air softly through his nose, his head jerking slightly at the notion.

He's still smiling. “I thought that was you.”

You smile back, albeit not as confidently.

A couple of girls obnoxiously interrupt your meet-cute as they giggle loudly and stand beside him, one on each side.

“Come on, Brucie; show us around!” One young blonde says, excited to be in the presence of such astute glamour.

She puts her arms around his and a redhead on his other side trails a perfectly manicured fingernail up his arm shamelessly in an attempt to seduce him.

“Yeah, you promised we’d go swimming later.” The redhead pouts and you have to hold yourself back from laughing in their face.

He doesn't give them the light of day. They're ignored, quite ruefully as he gets out of their grasp and walks closer to you.

“You wanna go see the library?” He asks, his eyes hopeful and determined.

He's so close that you have to move your chin a bit to watch the jealousy float above their heads in fumes.

“Uhh... aren't you a little busy?”

He grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, you don't dare turn around to see who all is looking your way.

Bruce doesn't care, he never did when it came to you.

As he shuts the door behind him, you start to wonder what else in him has changed. How much of him still remains?

“Can I just say,” He begins. “Wow,” His eyes trail your form and he loves the way you've grown over the years.

You're more beautiful than ever, if possible.

“It is... good to see you.”

You nod, leaning on his desk. “Likewise. You've been gone a long time.”

You don't mean to make Bruce feel guilty but he does anyway. You don't blame him for leaving as you know he has his reasons but he feels regretful in some way.

“I know. How are things?”

“Oh, you know. The same.” You chuckle lightly and he grins wider at the sound.

“Gotham's getting worse but old habits die hard.” You add on.

He nods like he understands. “Can't change the world on your own.”

You tilt your nose down a bit, meeting his eyes under your lashes. “What choice do I have when you're out? Too busy... swimming.”

You smile at ease to show you're just kidding but he feels the overwhelming urge to spill his guts out again.

His stare is different now, his smile faint and eyes distant.

“Y/n, all of... all this,” He points his index finger towards the ceiling and makes a circle, glancing around to emphasize his point.

“It's-it's not... me.”

He steps closer, just an arms length away from you now.

Bruce's piercing gaze is filled with longing, longing to be understood. Seen, heard.

“It's... inside I am... I am more.”

That breaks your heart and soothes it simultaneously.

Here you are, scared he's changed and turned into someone you barely know but that's just not true.

“Oh, Bruce.” Your tone ladled with comfort. “Inside, you're still that same kid I befriended all those years ago.” You say as you shake your head softly.

He deeply inhales and blinks, gaze darting around your face.

“It's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you.”

He softly snorts, feeling comforted by your words. “I'm sorry I didn't reach out to you any sooner.”

You know this had to come up at some point in the night, you didn't expect it to come up as soon as y'all were getting somewhere.

“Why... why didn't you say anything?”

He licks his lips, the action making your eyes shift there involuntarily.

Ever the perceptionist, he notices but chooses not to say anything.

“I got scared.”

This makes you full-on laugh, a genuine giggle comes tumbling out of your lips before you can help and he's in awe.

He hadn't noticed just how much he's missed your laugh up until now.

“I missed you.” He blurts out.

Your laughter dies down and you stare at him incredulously.

“What?” Your voice comes out smaller than intended.

Bruce can't take it back now, your laughter gave him an inch so now he has to take the mile.

“I've missed you. So much.” He breathes out deeply like his lungs are being squeezed to death.

You blink as you feel the loneliness creep up on you, forcing you to show your hand but you refuse.

“Then why'd you leave?”

It's so quiet you would hear a pin drop if it wasn't for the lively crowd downstairs.

He wrestles with himself. Should he tell you and share this heavy burden of responsibility on your shoulders or shelter you from it so you can continue to live a life of bliss.

He'd be a fool to truly believe you're living a life of bliss right now.

You know he's hesitating, from the way he's looking at you and clenching then unclenching his fists. You know him.

“Bruce, talk to me. Please don't shut me out.” You step closer this time, making him see your desperation.

“I had to. I had to get out of here, Y/n.”

He answers vaguely but it's a start.

You nod, satisfied in getting some explanation. “Okay.”

“What, don't I get an ‘I missed you, too’?” He softly teases.

You're not in the mood and he can see that but he still wants to keep a light mood. He says to himself that it's for the sake of his birthday but he never gave a damn after his parents died.

This birthday is the first in a long time that he's actually in the mood to celebrate.

“I missed you too.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to fully voice your thoughts. You shakily inhale, your eyes tearing up on their own accord.

Bruce gingerly lifts your chin up and nearly breaks at the sight of you.

“A lot.” A hushed whisper.

He gulps, his hand pulling you in by the neck while the other wraps around your wasit.

You don't want to cry, you don't him to feel bad but you can only keep so much inside. You can only hold on for so long.

“Don't do that again." You sob pitifully. “Please.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes tight to prevent himself from breaking.

“I won't. I won't, I promise.”

His palm softy rubs your hair and you sniffle, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed.

“Don't.” He reads your mind.

Both of his hands cradle your face and he stares lovingly at you.

“I thought you would've forgotten about me.”

You rip this burden off your chest like a bandaid

His eyebrows furrow in disapproval, the wrinkles on his forehead lined deep and displeased. “How could you think that?”

The thought of you thinking that hurts him, as if being gone for so long and leaving you out to dry didn't wound him enough.

You shrug, not knowing how to answer that without making him feel responsible. “I dunno, you were just gone for so long and... I was afraid you'd changed for the worst when I heard you came back.”

He wipes at your tear-stricken cheeks, denying the absurd notion with a nimble shake of his head.

“No, no, no. I would never. Okay? You hear me? I would never.”

You nod twice, a weak “okay” leaving your lips.

He stares at you and smiles, your heart soaring at the warm look he bathes you in.

“Before I forget,” You reach into your pocket and pull out a tiny box

“Happy birthday, Bruce.”

He smiles and accepts the gift, opening it out of impatience.

You titter lightly as you expected that.

It’s the rock from when he fell into the cave trying to keep it out of your grasp.

He stares at it, eyes wide and jaw dropped in surprise. His thumb grazes the smooth surface.

“Thank you for this.” He holds it up in gratitude.

“You’re welcome.” You say warmly.

When he studies you, you feel something change in the air. It’s become electrified somehow.

Are you crazy for thinking he’s gonna kiss you?

You’d like that and so would he.

He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing down and back in place from the action and you stare.

“I, uhh… would you want to— um…”

You blink and tilt your head to the side, blinking at him.

He inhales sharply as he leans in and you hear him faintly ask, “Can I kiss you?”.

To which you answer by pushing yourself up on your heels and placing your hands on his chest, meeting him halfway.

It’s shy and timid, but slow and sweet.

His lips hold yours to an honest truth, one that shows how much it means to him.

His hands grab yours and you feel his special attention in a way that’s real. Nothing like what he was doing with any girl before you, if anything.

“I wanna take you out to dinner.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“I’d like that.”

Your eyes point down but gradually meets his in a way that says It can be our little secret.

“Yeah?” He gently hums, planting a kiss on your cheekbone.

Your heart flutters at the gentle action and you nod, your breathing shallow and deep.

Little do you know that his “dinner” entails plans for every other day and night after this one. If this is how it’s gonna be dating the wealthiest Gothamite then you won’t ever object.

Not that you were ever going to in the first place.

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kier-with-a-k · 12 hours ago

Text

RENEGADE - N. S.

Part 2 of one of your girls

A/N: AHHH!!! This is lowkey not my best! But yk I always try and I am improving I can feel it in my cheeks!

Warning: slight angst!

Nick's POV

"I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak"

Weeks had past.

I haven't really been talking to Francis ever since... That night happened.

He's been messaging me every other day since then.

At first they were just memes, pictures of various cats and dogs that have tiny little texts on them. He'd add "omg so you" and a laughing emoji.

Then it escalates. Texts about how sorry he is, and he never meant on leading me on.

---

"And if you wanna, you can slide

And if it helps you sleep at night

You don't have to tell me why"

He hasn’t messaged again.

Maybe he finally got it. Maybe he finally felt the ache I’ve been swallowing for months.

Or maybe… he just forgot.

I stare at the string of our texts. All the blue bubbles from me that say too little, and all the gray ones from him that say too much—but never what I actually need.

I don’t delete them. I never do.

Even if every word feels like a bruise now.

---

I’m back at the lake. The real one this time.

It’s off-season, so no one’s here. Just the wind and the crunch of frostbitten grass beneath my boots.

I stand at the edge of the dock, the wood groaning under me like it remembers too.

I took that photo here.

Francis mid-air. Water exploding around him.

He laughed so hard that day. He said, “Bet you didn’t get it.”

I did. Of course I did.

I always captured him perfectly. It’s just... he never really saw me back.

I sit down. Pull my camera from my bag. I haven’t used it since… him.

But I raise it anyway, out of muscle memory more than anything else. I point it at the empty sky, the still lake, the place where he used to stand.

Click.

Silence.

Click.

And somehow, every photo feels lonelier than the last.

---

"So, you run, with your eyes closed

You run from the sun

And you don't know why"

Madi texts me again.

[Madi]: u okay?? haven’t heard from u since the shoot.

I don’t reply right away. I just stare at her message and think about how many people I’ve shut out while chasing a boy who never once reached for me in the light.

I type:

[me]: yeah. kinda.

[Madi]: i’m proud of u. even for saying kinda.

---

Francis shows up at my house that night.

No text. No warning. Just there, in the driveway, red hair under the glow of the porchlight.

I don’t open the door. I just look at him through the curtain.

He stares at the door like he’s willing it to open. Hands in his pockets. Jaw tight like he’s fighting the urge to knock.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he leaves something in the mailbox.

Then walks away.

I wait five minutes. Ten.

Then I go out and pull it out.

It’s the photo. The lake house one.

But on the back, he’s written:

> “I’m sorry I didn’t know how to love you back.”

That’s all it says.

No excuses. No late-night texts. No calls.

Just… that.

And for once, I think maybe that’s enough.

Not to fix it.

But to let it go.

---

One Month Later

---

I get into a photography program.

Madi screams when I tell her. My mom cries. Matt and Chris fist-bumps me and says, “Knew you’d do it.”

I take fewer photos of people now.

Fewer photos of boys who only come around when the lights are off.

I still think of him sometimes.

When I see something red.

When I hear someone laugh too hard.

But it doesn’t ache the same way anymore.

It’s softer now. Quieter.

Like a song you used to love, fading in the distance.

---

Francis’ POV

"Is it really your anxiety

That stops you from giving me everything?"

It’s been a month.

Thirty-two days, actually.

I’ve counted.

Worse than that—I’ve felt every one.

The first week, I kept thinking he’d text.

Second week, I kept almost texting him.

By the third, I stopped pretending I didn’t miss him.

And now? Now I’m just angry at myself for not knowing it sooner. For not being brave when it would’ve mattered.

---

I saw him through the window of that café by campus.

He was laughing. Really laughing.

Madi was across from him, waving a film roll in his face. He leaned back in his seat, eyes bright, face tilted toward the sun like he belonged there—like the world had finally let him breathe again.

I didn’t go in.

Just stood there, half-shadowed by the doorframe like a coward.

He didn’t see me.

But I saw everything.

I saw what he looks like when he’s not carrying my silence. When he’s not waiting for some midnight version of me to crawl into his bed and call it closeness.

And I realized something awful:

He was never the secret.

I was.

---

"I was just caught in the headlights

I was just feeding the flame

You were just second-hand heartbreak

You were just someone to blame"

I haven’t kissed anyone since. Haven’t even tried.

Sarah dumped me. Said I was somewhere else all the time. Said I looked like I was mourning something I couldn’t name.

She was right.

I told her I was sorry.

I didn’t say for what.

---

I still sleep with the photo beside my bed.

The one from the lake.

The one he took.

I don’t know why I keep it.

It feels like some kind of quiet punishment. A reminder of who I was before I knew what I was doing. Before I saw what he meant.

---

"Is it really your fault if you don't see what you're running from?"

I go back to the dock.

Not to recreate anything. Not to chase ghosts.

Just to be there.

I sit on the same wood where he must’ve sat. Camera probably balanced in his lap. Eyes set on nothing, but seeing everything. The way he always did.

I wish I could tell him I wasn’t lying when I said he mattered. I just didn’t know how to show it without setting my whole life on fire.

But maybe I should’ve let it burn.

Because what's left now?

Me.

The dock.

And a silence that’s all mine to carry.

---

The Message I Don’t Send:

> “I didn’t deserve the way you looked at me.

But I want you to know—I see it now.

I see you.

And I hope someone else does too. Someone braver than me.”

---

I delete it.

Because he doesn’t need my guilt.

He needs freedom.

And I think for once—

Loving him means not dragging him back into the dark I refused to leave.

---

A/N: TY FOR READING Y'ALL!!! if y'all enjoyed this please reblog it!!! TY for my sister @sturnsblogs for proofreading it!

Taglist: @sturnsblogs @thenickgirl @bambisturns @nickssidewitch @emeraldsturns @httpsturns @sturns-mermaid @sarahsturnn @oopsiedaisydeer @fentiesturns @jacksonsturniolo

Deviders by the @bernardsbendystraws

#kier writes #Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #certified yapper #sturniolo #the sturniolos

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asmodeusamaryllis · 4 months ago

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Hearing hoping nothing she does impacts her later/those drugs don't fuck her system up too bad

#m!ik #clara valac #Also obviously that she the last to be revealed what her evil cycle looks like! Wow!#Honestly I do hope it not her evil cycle is a trigger to Azz thinking his feelings towards iruma n clara r different™️#I do like the ship but I very much get ehh at it when it feels like it trying to pair the two off to lessen their friendship w iruma/#N idk how I would feel that azz feeling towards iruma that r akin to ameri will later been deem strictly platonic or only of worship #N any gayness that Azz had would disappear which I won't be happy w n sour my opinions #I don't think that will happen but I never know n while I don't think I will mind that much cuz it doesn't erase the love trio #I do feel iffy if it set off series of either Clara or azz being awkward with each other being like 'what r these feelings' ect #Also I think I'm probs gonna colour alot of panels from the ch #I did enjoy the chapter v much up till the last page where I'm like 😬

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silusvesuius · 9 months ago

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g*lmar rly has to be the best skajrim character on the real like even if you don't like him he just is . literally The best one i think......... on dat note i also imagine that he and ulfr*c despite being fairydust BFFs for lyfe genuinely have the worst communication skills ever seen

#text #but i already talked about how g*lmar is weird about ulfr*c anyways #literally jubilant and feeling special cus he's the only person ulfr*c actually trusts and speaks to outside of formal conversations #he's a very manly man too (like N*loth) for wanting to just control everything... well actually having ulfr*c under 'control' is enough 4 -#- him. unlike n*loth who wants to be above everything that moves. literally not about him tho #i hope that other st*rmcloaks develop a habit of going to hide downstairs in the palace whenever they can tell the vibe between -#- g*lmar and ulfr*c is off because they're gonna be yelling at each other and throwing shit around for 40 minutes in a few seconds #i don't believe they'd fight insanely often but being at an active war probably gets them heated more. Often than usual; and their -#- conflicts are never resolved. i feel like they just don't talk to each other for a good 2 days and act like nothing happened #they're way too manly and prideful to actually let the other one 'win' so they just don't say anything ever post-arguing #Tbhs g*lmar actually really likes that ulfr*c is so unstable and harrowed because it makes himself feel very good and reliable -#- but he has his limits 😂LMFAOO i bet sometimes he gets really tired of him being so traumatized. very rarely but he does think about it #i'll have to desribe that a bit better later tho... don't know how to word it atm #but maybe he wants to punch him or something BYE. no...... 💔savage as hell #he likes it in a very general sense of ulfr*c's personality especially between them but doesn't like it when it causes them to clash #this might just be mostly ulfr*c's doing cus i doubt he's actually talkative about his past issues and Troubles (torture mayhem) and -#- can't communicate anything about it or set boundaries when needed. he just gets mad or very avoidant. No fixing that tho #well it's just shameful to him so he'd rather do nothing than even admit anything to anyone Everrrrr #why does his life suck so bad LMFAOOOOOOOOO #their nasty musty mutualism .. leeching off your traumatized Bff so that he can make you feel good by saying he needs you in particular #while U pay him back with some support.......SOME #Oh well #that zero communication between some sk*rim characters looks yammy as fuck to me. A;lways. ALWAYS #nelvas is power dynamic induced...... g*lmar&&ulfr*c trauma-caused... elituli Um😂 t*llius doesn't even know any hobbies she has #bye this is why they're serving so hard

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fl4tlines · 3 months ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo – Addiction/Withdrawal @badthingshappenbingo ┆ Square #1

「✦」 OCs: Kay Edwards ⅋ Paris Elswood 「✧」 Content: Addiction ┆ Alcoholism ┆ Cursing ┆ Graphic Drug Use ┆Suicide Mention 「✦」 Word Count: 2,145 「✧」 Relevant Links: Masterlist ┆ .𖥔˚ ♫˚ 𖥔.

⛧ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿⛧ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ So you pour a little more; // And there's no one there to judge you; // At least that's what you tell yourself; // But don't you know, nobody drinks alone; // Every demon, every ghost from your past; // And every memory you've held back; // Follows you home. ❞ ⛧ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿⛧

“Can you sort?”

Paris held the phone to his ear as he spoke. The third number in as many minutes. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head at the answer from the other end of the phone.

“Seriously? Look – I can pay double.”

Another wince as he received his response.

“Yeah. Cash.”

“An 8-ball? No, just a sixteenth.”

Paris paced back and forth across the living room carpet, biting at some loose skin around his nail as he waited on an answer.

“Mhm, yeah. Yeah. Great.”

He glanced upwards to the clock. Three in the morning. But it was an hour and… something slow. More like half four. He pressed his hand into his forehead again.

“Yeah. Got it. Double in cash. Same spot as yesterday?”

After receiving the confirmation, Paris hung up the phone and finished the last of a bottle of wine from the table. Cheap shit, Kay had told him. Rough. Muddy. Rotgut. Yeah, Kay liked to pretend he knew what he was talking about. Throwing around all the right buzzwords so people thought he had something worthwhile to contribute.

And Paris couldn’t help but find that endearing.

He grabbed a jacket on his way out of the door – one of Kay’s, khaki green with a fur lined hood. Still with a wad of cash in the pocket from yesterday. Now was a good time to be thankful Kay never wore it.

The moment he was out of the apartment, Paris pulled the hood up and made his way down the two flights of stairs in the dark. Wiring was busted. Again. Third time this week.

Chilled air hit him as he took the all too familiar route, head down as he walked briskly. At this point, he didn’t even have to look up. He could work on muscle memory alone for this. And then the last turn. Taking him down a street – an alley behind long since closed takeouts and a nightclub. With rusted security cameras surveilling it. Long since disconnected.

The usual ten minute wait ensued. Agony. Paris paced back and forth, picking at his nails as he waited. But it was always ten minutes waiting for this guy. Even when he did the forty minute drive in thirty. Paris should be used to this by now, but each moment passing was pressure in his chest. If Kay came home and he was gone, that was the relationship over. Done.

But, if he was home? Plausible deniability. Did that apply? An old stash. A slip up at a party. Peer pressure. Anything to shift the blame off of himself. After he had made the call. Gone in search of one more hit.

But it could be worse, he told himself. It could be heroin. Or meth. But he wasn’t an addict like that. He wasn’t. It was just cocaine.

It was easy to forget that he’d reassured Kay in exactly the same way about his drinking. The drinking could have been worse. Paris had it under control. It wasn’t cocaine. It could have been worse.

It still could be worse.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice broke Paris’ train of thought. Probably for the best.

“You’re not Aiden.”

“I should hope not,” the quick, scoffed, reply. “Cami.”

Paris only had the energy, and care, to give her a quick once over. Long, dark hair. Leather jacket. Skinny jeans. Unassuming. Unremarkable.

“Right, whatever. He spoke to you?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I’ve got it. I can do $190.”

“$350.”

“Never had someone talk me up before. Suicidal or something?” Cami’s response was blunt, but she edged it off with a slight smile.

“I keep my word. I’m not screwing over Aiden. And I don’t need a dead hooker on my conscience.”

“Call girl. But it's your money.”

Paris rummaged in his – Kay’s – pocket and counted out the money in front of Cami, before handing it over to her, and replacing it with a small ziploc that she handed him.

“I can put you on to something better. Cheaper,” Cami looked Paris up and down. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “MCAT. You’ll be paying half. Same kick, better price tag.”

Paris thought about it for a few moments, eyes ever so slightly narrowed as he thought about the offer.

“Cheaper doesn’t matter. This is my last hit, I’m done.”

Cami seemed to do everything she could not to laugh in his face.

“I am. I’m done,” Paris repeated.

“You tell yourself that,” Cami pulled out a card and handed it to Paris, who paused before he took it. “Agency card, but just ask for me. I’ll get you sorted.”

“Listen – I – this is my last fix.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t need the number.”

Paris pocketed the card. Taking it was far easier than trying to argue with her.

“Are we done?”

“Yeah, we’ll talk soon,” Cami had already decided.

“Yeah. Drive safe or whatever,” Paris muttered as he brushed past her and turned the corner out of the alley.

The walk home could have been therapeutic. A quieter version of the usual busy city. Almost lifeless at this time of night – just about to be revived by commuters on the way to a nine to five. And the bustle was beginning as Paris re-entered the apartment through the door which he had left unlocked. A neighbourhood like this? Even Paris would confess that was reckless. The late night pick up felt relatively safe in comparison.

He crashed down on the couch, still in his coat and emptied his pockets onto the table. Paris cursed under his breath, his life contained only to the mess scattered on the cracked glass surface. With his entire existence laid out like this – who was he kidding? With Kay on the verge of leaving him, the comfort he found here was temporary, but wasn’t everything?

Now wasn’t the time to be tearing himself down, right? He was doing better than he could be. And that must count for something. Rock bottom still seemed so far away.

He took one more look at the table before sinking his head into his hands and continuing to curse under his breath in a low mutter. This was fine. It was fine. Kay wasn’t even home. Wouldn’t be for hours.

Paris straightened his posture and tilted his head back, collapsing once again against the back of the couch. Breath through gritted teeth. It was fine. He had spoken it into existence. It would be fine. He was fine. One last fix wasn’t going to kill him. Not after everything else. This was mild. Quiet night in. Recovery.

Except he knew he was kidding himself there.

Roughly wiping away tears that had not yet fallen, he leant forward on the couch and picked up the clear ziploc. He hardly had time to think as he emptied some of the powdered contents onto the screen of his phone. But he left more than half in the bag. Because this was his last pick up. Because any more would prove he wasn’t recovering.

Paris got to his feet, almost tripping over a discarded hoodie on the floor as he skimmed the pile of DVDs next to the TV. He pulled out a dog-eared copy of Saw III. A movie Kay vehemently refused to rewatch. Written it off as shock value torture porn. Paris slotted the half empty ziploc bag behind the disk and tried to return it to the stack, knocking half of them to the floor in the process.

Compared to the rest of the apartment, the mess was minimal. He’d deal with it later. Before Kay got back.

One glance back at the table, and Paris’ initial focus returned. He stepped over the hoodie on the floor this time and stared down at the screen of his phone. This was just – it was just something to take his edge off. Push some of the itching thoughts back to where they belonged. Maybe the late night trip wasn’t a blaring warning sign. It was proof he had pushed back against the waves of intensity all day. ‘All day.’ After he had run out at five yesterday morning. After passing out in bed from pure exhaustion what must have been minutes before Kay woke. Dealing with the worst of a brutal comedown.

If he’d lasted that long, maybe he could force through another few hours? Then Kay would be home and – Paris banished the idea quickly. Lasting this long was mere proof that he could quit whenever he wanted to. And that wasn’t tonight.

He took one of the loose bills from the table and pressed it over the powder on his phone screen, before taking Cami’s card in his other hand. Slightly too flimsy. But whatever. Paris slowly dragged the card across the top of the bill, breaking up any impurities in the substance. He removed the bill and tapped the card against the screen to target larger clumps, before replacing the bill.

He proceeded to repeat this several times before putting the bill to the side. Paris was methodical, focus drawn into the familiar routine. Even the action itself brought a warm sense of comfort. With continued precision, he separated the powder into several distinct lines. It contrasted the black of the phone screen in a way Paris would only be able to describe as satisfying. Clean.

Paris picked the twenty dollar bill back up from the table and rolled it up, tight and even. Like he had done it thousands of times before. And that probably wouldn’t be an exaggeration. He pressed a finger to each nostril and inhaled in quick succession before bringing the note to his nose. Paris leant forward and sharply exhaled, before inhaling with the end of the note pressed to the first line of powder.

Within moments, the sharp taste hit the back of his throat. Distinct bitter petrol. Familiar. A sign of a better emotional state on the horizon, no matter how brief the respite would be. Paris waited for a few minutes before he got up from the couch and took off his coat, hanging it back in the hall. A futile effort to hide his late night walk from Kay. Because Kay would know. No matter how careful Paris was.

Not that it mattered. It was a problem for later, Paris had already decided. Kay would understand, they could talk tomorrow. Kay would get back from work, they would talk. Paris vaguely remembered Kay saying he had a couple of days off. And they could make the most of those few days. A date. Movie. Drive out to a trail – a hike. Picnic, maybe. Paris smiled faintly to himself as he sat back on the couch.

It would be good. He’d get the apartment back into a reasonable state tonight, and they could have tomorrow. And the next day. His heart pounded in his chest – in his throat. This was fine. Good, even. What had he even been thinking before? Kay wouldn’t leave him. They weren’t on the verge of a catastrophic collapse. Kay wouldn’t hurt him like that.

The hours passed into the early morning. The earlier morning, as daylight began to emerge from the outside world into the apartment. Fractured rays of sun illuminated the mess of an apartment – somehow in a worse state than Paris had dared consider. The beginnings of a headache brought his attention back to the phone on the table.

He should text Kay. Apologise. Beg for some semblance of forgiveness. Swear to clean the apartment tomorrow. Convince Kay not to walk out on him. Because he would.

It wasn’t worth it to stick around.

It took everything Paris had to pick up the phone, dragging a finger across it to collect the last dusting of powder. He pressed it against his gums and unlocked the phone with his other hand, pulling up Kay’s contact.

A text would make everything worse. Paris dumped the phone back onto the table and stood up. Kay would be home soon, and Paris had to sleep this off before he got home. Just an hour. Two.

The only incriminating remnants from the night before were the card Cami had given him and the bills on the table. Plus a takeout box of fries. Still full. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of eating, despite the hunger pangs that had emerged through the night. How they were clawing at his stomach, only quelled by sheer nausea. Paris took the money and business card as he stumbled towards the bedroom – a combination of the drink, drugs and plain old sleep deprivation causing his unsteadiness. He tossed everything into the nightstand drawer and almost collapsed into his side of the bed. The thought of undressing – even so much as taking off his shoes – didn’t occur to him as he fell into a restless sleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ » next

#whump #whump snippet #emotional whump #whump blog #whump writing #hurt/comfort #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Addiction/Withdrawal #OC: Paris Elswood #OC: Kay Edwards #OC: Cami #OC: Aiden #WIP: Chasing Midnights #mine #i abandoned this blog in october 2023 and this is the first thing i think i've written since then #pretty sure i got hit by the ao3 a/n curse so here's the lore dump #in no particular order over the last year and idk how many months i:#got accepted into uni and moved away from home #then got kicked out of uni and moved back home (i did nothing wrong i swear)#had a fling with a band guy double my age while he was touring and lived out my y/n dreams #got two cats via the cat distribution system #took a weekend trip with a guy i'd never met in person #only to find out he was on bail for multiple things and probably engaged to a girl in japan #had surgery and now only have 203 bones so rip to my scaphoid lunate and triquetrum you will not be missed #also won the ticket war for eras and queued for like ten hours for barrier #somehow managed to survive my feral and reckless party girl era and not get arrested (so far)#and proceeded to do zero writing through any of it #uhh i don't even know what real tags are any more #but my life is back on track now apparently

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kindacreepy-kindaugly · 1 year ago

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haven't been sad like this in a long time

#doll #did i get lovebombed again #it's been ages since he last even tried that w/ me...#but. the more i think abt it the more it makes sense.#the others were suspicious from the start but we couldn't figure out what the ulterior motive could possibly be #cause it was so out of character for him. suddenly wantin to make us more official when he'll usually avoid any trace of actual commitment #i guess he knows i dream about a more....traditional relationship. exclusive for both instead of just one way.#white picket fence etc #so it was easy to spin it into that when rly he just wanted to stake his claim in a more visible way #(not a proposal just a promise ring type of thing on a necklace so i thought it was him tryin to compromise)#so now i just feel stupid cause i bought into all the stuff he said. bout the way he wants this to be forever.#when it rly was just another way to mark me.#i'd be fine w/ it if he just said that's what he wants! he knows i don't mind wearin his name or w/e even though i don't rly get it #but tryin to mask it as smth else that he knows i want but would never ask for cause he doesn't do that stuff #it's not ok #everything he does we deal w/ as it comes but. not the fucking mind games again. he can't/doesn't wanna force me to do things (anymore)#so now he's tryin to trick me into em instead?#i don't feel like i can trust anything he's said now #n if i try to have an actual adult conversation about it he's just gonna talk circles around me til i'm dizzy again #i was rly startin to trust him. i don't understand. what happened?#did i do something? have i been so flaky he feels he needs to do this stuff to keep me in check?#he just told me that he's happy if i even just drop by for a little while but. i'm not sure i believe that now either.#i mean i shoulda realized cause it'd only affect me anyway. i don't think he even mentioned wearing one himself.#i've been so happy ring shopping for days n now i just feel sick. messing w/ consent is a whole Thing for him so #chances are he wanted to keep me content w/ an empty show of commitment while he gets off on what it really means #i shoulda known it was too sudden n came out too easy for him. he never talks about feelings stuff so easily it's always a struggle #i think it's all bc he's afraid of losin me but....i rly thought we were past this stuff. i rly thought i could trust him now.#i'm just rly rly upset n sad n disappointed #spdrvent

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fandomfuntimem · 3 months ago

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Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #dcu crossover #danny phantom crossover #writing #writing prompt #prompt #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #funtime speaketh #text post

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hoshigray · 11 months ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example.

Yes, you have a boyfriend.

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material.

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more.

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true.

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears.

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?”

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases.

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?”

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle.

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm.

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some—

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace.

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs.

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?”

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right?

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries.

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire.

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots. So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!”

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.”

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…”

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves.

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours.

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties!

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun.

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice.

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?”

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.”

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction.

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking.

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider.

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.”

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room.

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in.

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.”

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nkogneatho · 1 year ago

Text

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his cock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

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