#I have a ton of characters I’m gonna do this for too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gracieheartspedro · 20 days ago

Text

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x afab! reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep.

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you.

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar.

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos.

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot.

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you.

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often.

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance.

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification.

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again.

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel.

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome.

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not.

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic.

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed.

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked.

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do.

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this.

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you.

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in.

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year.

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left.

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him.

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing.

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection.

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you.

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night.

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now.

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed.

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified.

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something. He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town.

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.”

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms.

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle.

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter.

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy.

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across.

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..."

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him.

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you.

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you.

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly.

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful.

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him.

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him.

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.”

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it.

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him.

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over.

“Whatever, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live.

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them.

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen.

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move.

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer.

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time.

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor.

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond.

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking.

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard.

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning.

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word.

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here.

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him.

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt.

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals.

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off.

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water.

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud.

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest.

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore.

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point?

His body was on fire, thinking about you.

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you.

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud.

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!”

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy.

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?”

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing.

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates.

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused.

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences.

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you.

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies.

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first.

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful.

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back.

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time.

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way.

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans.

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body.

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance.

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then.

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan.

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter.

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core.

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself.

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming.

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress.

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance.

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his.

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight.

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming.

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes.

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half.

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him.

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile.

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring.

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself.

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking.

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to.

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose.

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

#joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #tlou au #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller fanfiction #fic: for cryin’ out loud #the last of us smut #gracieheartspedro

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 29 days ago

Text

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝚂𝟸!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @starkeyisthelastname

5.8K

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

Rafe and the Reader are both from Kildare Island. They both attend the same college. *Kildare Island cartographers, this is not accurate. I am aware 💕*

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Praise kink, ownership kink, softboyfriend!rafe, pet names, Ward is a dick, verbal abuse, physical abuse, swearing, drinking, drinking and driving, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, gore, smut, cum play, cum tasting, mask kink, major character death, unprotected p in v, choking, rough sex

Reader’s POV:

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty girl?” Rafe mumbles as he leans into your neck, kissing you gently, his large arm wrapped around you. You rest your hand on his thigh, letting him pull you against his broad frame as you do your best to calm down.

There was a list of things, really; it’s the night of The Purge, after all. The terror behind it was never easy to think about. Then, to top it all off, your very first dinner at the Cameron’s place. Somehow, you found yourself more nervous about the latter. Taking a deep breath, you melted against him, your lips finding his for a soft kiss. “Nothing, baby. Just a little anxious.” You whispered against his mouth. Rafe draws the same breath, not wanting to wave off your worry.

This was always a difficult night; the houses and residents of Figure 8 always seemed to get hit the hardest. The hatred, violence, and aggression The Cut held inside for this side of the island were clear, rightfully so—vandalism, theft, arson, beatings, murder; complete and utter chaos. But the Kooks weren't innocent either; they never are. Their crimes on Purge Night seemed to go unnoticed, brushed under the rug, their faces hidden under satirical masks. By the morning, when everyone pulled themselves out of their safe rooms, the manicured streets would be torn to shreds. The Kooks would be in “mourning” for the rest of the year, attending fundraiser after fundraiser, gala after gala, to return their neighborhoods to how they once were.

“You’re gonna be alright, princess. You have your safe room. We have ours. We can talk on the phone all night. Aight? I’m gonna look after Rose and Wheezie; your dad promised me that you’d be safe. It’ll be just like any other night.”

“I wish we could’ve stayed on campus,” your voice whispered as you lifted your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes burned from the heat of the tears threatening to spill down yours cheeks.

“That campus is gonna go to shit, princess. Always does. Tons of kids with rage to spare. We’re safer here.” You look up at the TV screen, Rafe’s words affirmed as they showed CCTV footage from the year before, your college campus flickering across the screen. It looked like a war zone… Rafe was right. The both of you were safer here.

“Reports had shown last year’s Purge had been the most successful to date, with the most murders committed.”

The journalist speaks with pride as she delivers the news. You could feel the chills run down your body, goosebumps flaring across your bare thighs. Rafe, of course, took notice of this, pressing a rough kiss to your forehead. “We’re graduatin’ next year. We’ll have a place of our own, just you and me,” He assured, reminding you of that sweet truth.

“Just you and me,” You echoed as you matched his pretty blue eyes. Wheezie’s phone buzzes, making you match her gaze across the living room. She’s an eavesdropper, lovingly so, her mood shift evident after listening your conversation with Rafe, knowing that it might just be Rose, Ward, and herself next year. Her protector, gone. “You too, of course, Wheez,” you smiled at her. She purses her lips, fluttering her lashes, quickly hurrying herself back to having her face buried in her phone to hide her emotion.

"Red or white?" Rose asked sweetly, her hands resting on a wine glass as she waited for your reply.

"Red wine, please." You smiled. “Thank you.”

"Rafe, would you like red?" She asked, earning a nod in reply from him. Rafe glanced over his shoulder, watching his stepmom run four glasses of wine. "Dinner will be ready in five.” She announced.

You gave her a polite smile and nod, nerves bubbling— this dinner was a staple in the Cameron house. It was like Thanksgiving in July: immaculate, decadent, excessive. A love letter to the Pogues, to give them just one more reason to hate the Kooks before the sirens sounded.

“Who knows, maybe next year we can Purge together,” Rafe whispers against your ear. The suggestion alone made your stomach fall. The unseriousness in his tone evident as he razzes you for shock value. But he’s joking… right? You let out a small breath when you heard his laugh, his arm gripping you tighter. “M’kidding, pretty.” He chuckled, amused by your reaction.

The jingle of a collar pulled your thoughts away as Rafe’s dog, Penny, rounded the corner and made her way over with a jump onto the couch. The large golden retriever snuggled next to you as she always did, making you smile softly at the momentary distraction. Rafe reached down, scratching her head with his grin. “Think Pen would rather spend the night with you than me, sweetheart,” he coos as he looks at her, making the sweet girl wag her tail. “Traitor.”

You looked at her, touching her soft fur before speaking. “Next year, it’ll be you, Rafey, me, and Wheez,” you speak to her sweetly as you scratch her head.

“That’s right,” Rafe hums happily.

"Dinner's ready,” Rose calls from the kitchen. Rafe weaves his larger hand in yours, leading you toward the table. Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out your chair and waited for you to take your seat before pushing it in. It was the sound of heavy footsteps that made the both of you glance up, seeing the patriarch himself. Ward Cameron. Rafe looks over his plate as he sits down, praising Rose and avoiding eye contact with his father as the older man sits across from him.

"So Alexis, how is school going for you?" Ward asked, causing Rose and Wheezie’s conversation to hush as he mentioned Rafe’s ex-girlfriend, Alexis Thornton's name, not yours. You were taken aback a little, but tried not to show it on your face. You didn’t know how to respond but did your best to save yourself the embarrassment.

"Umm... It's going great. Thank you." You said quietly, deciding to let it go.

"Y/n, I’ve actually been thinking about going there too," Wheezie emphasized your name with a sugary, sweet smile. “You know, when the time comes,” she adds casually, peering out of the corner of her eye at Ward as she swirled some pasta on her fork. She was waiting for her father to correct his mistake, but to her surprise, nothing came.

"Really? That’s amazing, Wheez. You should come out for a visit soon, and I can show you all our favorite spots.” You told her, picking up your wine glass to take a small sip. That’s when you heard Ward scoff, making you look in his direction. “She’s a child,” Ward rasped, followed by a mocking laugh. ”What are you gonna do? Take her to a bar?” His words were cold underneath a fake smile.

The confused look on your face said it all as you replied to him. “Obviously not,” You laugh him off, taking a similar tone towards him. Did he really think you’d take a 13-year-old to a bar? “There are some great restaurants, fun coffee shops, and a few cute little boutiques I’d love to take you to.” You said, focusing your attention back over on Wheezie.

Her smile brightened at your words, giving you an excited nod to her head. You turn your focus back to the head of the table, watching as Ward throws back the rest of his first glass of wine. It vibrated against the table as he slammed it down, gesturing to Rose with his other hand. As if he needed another. “Well, I’m hopin’ your grades are better than his,” Ward mumbled, cutting off Rose’s pour, three fingers from the top of the glass.

“I have good grades, but I’m not sure what you mean by that. Rafe’s grades are great.” You told him, your hand squeezing your boyfriend’s leg supportively under the table. You watched as Ward raised an eyebrow, his lips pursing around the wine glass before he set it down.

“He’s not on Academic Probation anymore? How many chapters did I miss?” Ward snickered cruelly as he matched Rafe’s eyes and yours. His words were harsh and cutting as he tried his best to embarrass his son in front of everyone. If one were to ask if Ward had any regrets, the only one he had would be not having a bigger audience to humiliate his eldest child.

"Uh, no. Not since the first year,” Rafe responded, his voice breaking slightly with anger as he spoke up. His blue irises flashed darker, meeting his father’s gaze as the man gave him a smirk. ”Real proud of you, son. Didn’t think you had it in you,” Ward drawled out in a thick southern accent laced with nothing but hate.

“You and your family gonna be alright tonight? Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut,” Ward asks as he slides his spoon across his tongue to cover the slight grin he’s holding back, taking a bite of crème brûlée. Gettin’ pretty close to The Cut… He means that in more ways than one— physically close, just a bay separating the two. Financially close as well, new money and a new family business, skirting the line between Kook and Pogue; still enough coin to pay for a membership at the Island Club.

Rafe knew precisely what he meant, Ward’s wicked double-entendre conjuring up fury. Calling you the wrong name was the first thing that had pissed him off; now his father was being rude to you just for the hell of it, and that was a whole other thing on its own. It was only a matter of time before he absolutely lost it.

"So, Alexis, what’s your brother up to these days-”

"Jesus Christ, Dad... Her name is y/n..." Rafe snapped, banging his giant fists against the table, the delicate china clattering and clanging on the flat surface. Ward chuckled at his son’s outburst, knowing he was the reason for it.

"Sorry, son. I can't keep all your girlfriends straight," He laughed before turning to you. "You don't mind if I just call you Alexis? Do you, sweetheart?" He slurs, a sly smirk on his lips.

"I do.” You reply quietly, trying your best not to cry from humiliation. He was just being an ass, but everyone's eyes on you were making you very uneasy. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, your appetite suddenly gone. Rafe took one look at you and shook his head.

"Alright... I think we are good. Are you good, sweetheart?" Rafe asked, already knowing the answer. He stood up abruptly, reaching for your hand. His other rips the bottle of wine off the table and passes it to you before snagging the crème brûlée as Ward reaches for seconds.

"M’takin’ her home and I’m leavin’ in the mornin’,” Rafe spat. “By the way, Dad, why don’t you stop drinkin’? Huh? You’re not gonna be good for shit if I gotta protect your ass too, fuckin’ pussy.” Ward was seething, wasting no time in grabbing Rafe by the shirt, pulling him down to meet his cold, dead eyes.

“The hell did you just call me, boy?” His voice was low as he twisted the fabric tighter in his hand.

“Called you a fuckin’ pussy,” Rafe responded with a level tone, not letting his nerves get the best of him. Ward’s face fell as he let him go, only to push him back towards the wall—Rafe bumped into the decorative table, sending one of Rose’s ornate vases crashing to the floor.

Rafe took a long drink from the wine bottle, just waiting for another storm of insults that would surely fly from Ward’s mouth. The vase was shattered all over the hardwood, the table quiet as everyone felt the tension thick in the air. Taking a breath, the older man hung his head in exhaustion for his disappointment of a son. This was a regular occurrence for the tumultuous pair, and Rafe’s voice was eerily calm again when he turned to his stepmother.

“Thanks for dinner. I’ll clean that up when I get back,” Rafe mumbles, his head nodding over to messy ground. Rose, who didn’t want to set her husband or stepson off even more, just gave him a soft nod and a weak smile.

“Hurry back,” Wheezie blurts out, not wanting her older brother to be out after the sirens called. She was about to say something else when her father interrupted her.

“If you’re not back here in an hour, m’locking the damn gate, Rafe,” Ward warned. ”You know I have no problem lettin’ you stay out there all night.” He hissed. You gave Ward a look of disgust, unable to hide it at the lack of emotion he carried for Rafe. You saw his eyes quickly meet yours, watching his lip twitch slightly. His gaze softened, holding a tiny fraction of remorse from the fact you saw just how awful he treated his own blood.

Fifteen minutes to your house, fifteen minutes back, leaving you thirty minutes to spare. "Wine?" You asked sweetly, passing your boyfriend the bottle by its neck.

"Please. Definitely need it after that shit show.” He exhaled, wishing he had something stronger. He took a healthy swig of the red liquid, finishing the bottle with a tipsy laugh. “Oh shit.” He chuckled dryly, tossing it in the back of the truck as you glanced back at him, his cerulean eyes met yours in a glassy stare.

"Fuck, y/n, that was embarrassing," he pushed out as he drummed his blunt nails against the steering wheel. "I've been lookin‘ forward to you meetin’ them for a while, and - and my dad always finds a way to mess it up." He stammered. You scooped up a bite of the stolen crème brûlée, feeding him. Rafe groaned at the taste of the decadent dessert making you giggle, the sound easing his sour mood for a moment. “We will never be like that,” he sighed, tone serious as his striking blue eyes bored into you deeply.

“Never.”

You knew Rafe was running high on many emotions. All he ever wanted was his father’s approval; deep down, he knew he would never receive it. Though the moment was sad, hearing him talking about the future with you brought some sense of peace. You knew his parents couldn’t care less, and you could only hope and pray, that didn’t make him have any second thoughts about the two of you. The feeling of the spoon slipping from your hand pulled you from your thoughts as Rafe now had it to get another bite. “So ready for this night to be over with.”

You let out a sigh, looking down at your lap before back up to your handsome boyfriend. “Neither can I, baby. Neither can I…” You said, your nerves setting in all over again. Rafe could read you, deciding to lean in and place a kiss on your lips for reassurance. He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in close as his tongue played with yours. He was kissing you as if it would be the last time, but he would never utter those words out loud. Pulling back slowly, he rested his forehead against yours. “Drive home safe, Rafe.”

“Promise, princess,” he said, his voice vibrating against your mouth before kissing you once more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Your voice is barely a whisper as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer than usual before getting out of his parked truck and heading to your house.

You look out your window, staring across the shimmering water of the bay. It’s quiet— calm. But that won’t last for long. Soon, both sides of the Island rise. The TV glows in your bedroom, illuminating the space around you as the news continues to run story after story from the years before, scaring some and inspiring most.

You wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, snuggling into your pillows as you wait for the announcement. Rafe hasn’t called yet or answered; I just hope he made it back to Tanneyhill okay.

“This is not a test.”

Your heart falls into your stomach; your body breaking out in a cold sweat as you hear those five words you’ve been waiting for. Your eyes shift away from the window as you take in the words on your screen.

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge, sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am. And, for the first time since its inception, no one has been granted special immunity from the Purge. No citizen or group will be exempt. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”

The siren blares making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight; the blood in your frozen body runs cold.

“May God be with you all.”

His eyes widen on yours, breaking away in disbelief, staring down at nothing but the handle of the blade. The knife was lodged deep in his stomach, your mind dizzy as Ward gasped for breath.

You never thought you’d be one to actually do it. The night was already dangerous, and here you were, back at the infamous Tannyhill amid the mist of chaos. It was your right, though, and he was why you were doing this in the first place. Seeing the way he could no longer spit those venomous out or give you a look of intimidation made you hold such power over him. This was giving you an indescribable high to see him almost silently pleading with you despite it being too late.

You were doing the world a favor, and oh my god, the gasp he let out made you realize this was really happening. Yanking the blade free, you watched as he stumbled back. Ward tripped over the hallway rug, his body falling onto the ground with a loud thud. The house was quiet except for the sounds of Ward fighting for air, his hands reaching out for anything to help pull him away from you.

He couldn’t survive. If he found out it was you, it would be over, everything… And that couldn’t happen.

Stepping towards him, you sank to your knees and looked into his eyes. The purple LED lights on your mask reflected in his reading glasses, his eyes behind it leaking with pathetic tears. Fucking pussy. You didn’t think you had it in you, lifting the knife above your head without any tremble to your hands.

“This is for Rafe.” You bring it down, stabbing him in the heart, sealing his fate. The strike was brutal, and you could swear you felt the tip of the sharp blade pierce into the hardwood floor. Blood covered the hall, the fight over as his body grew still beneath you. You waited, his chest no longer rising as you watched him lay there, now lifeless. Forcing the knife out, you took a deep breath and rolled your neck to release the tension of the night. The nerves, the anxiety, all of it put to rest as you rid the world of this evil man.

You and Rafe would never truly be happy if Ward was around to ruin every moment. You knew every family event or special occasion would be tarnished just like it was tonight. Not only that, but the cutting words, scarring digs, and emotional abuse he let his son suffer. You couldn’t stand to hear him or see him treat the man you loved this way anymore. That dinner earlier was the last time he got to make Rafe feel that way ever again.

Lifting up your mask, you let your emotions go as you laughed at his now vacant body. “Fuck you, Ward.” You spat, only to feel your heart skip a beat as the sound of a familiar collar jangled down the long hallway. Your stomach dropped, the realization that you had been in the house too long and caught the attention of Penny. If Ward had been scanning the house, there was no way that Rafe wasn’t doing the same thing. You could only hope he was in the safe room with Rose and Wheezie.

You rose to your feet, seeing the golden retriever trot towards you a little faster as she recognized your scent through the disguise. Leaning down, you carefully scratched her fury ear and whispered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Penny girl.”

The sound of a deep voice made that sinking feeling come back to your lower belly. “You hear somethin’, girl?” Rafe’s booming tone, not even trying to be quiet as his large shadow stands at the end of the hallway.

Fuck.

No… No…

You took two steps backward, clutching the knife in your shaky hand as he took two large strides forward. Turning around, you sprinted towards the door and downstairs. You ran past the living room, ignoring the thought that you had been snuggling there only a few hours earlier. His steps grew louder, and his voice echoed through the mansion as he yelled, “STOP!”

Your lungs were burning as you looked over your shoulders you tore out onto the trimmed front lawn. Your own boyfriend, on your heels, making you hold back a scream as you made a shot for the thick trees on the other side of the house. It offered you a place to hide and catch your breath as your rapid heartbeat rang through your ears. You found yourself crawling next to a tree, the pure darkness, your only hope of survival as you tried to stay out of sight. You tore off your mask, quieting your breathing as you hid with the palm of your blood soaked hand.

You listened to his heavy footsteps fading fast. You took a minute to think, knowing you couldn’t go back to the front of Tannyhill without being seen. The barn... You would wait it out there for the night to get the heat off of you and then find a way out. You’d clean up and come back to console Rafe. Making sure the lights on your mask were off, you tugged it back on your face and stood up.

The North Carolina night was warm, making you feel sticky as dirt and blood caked your skin. You made your way through the dark woods until the small white barn came into view. You looked at it, your mind racing with different scenarios. What if he called? What if he decided to leave and saw that your car was parked down the road? What if he finds you? Would he kill for what you did?

Slipping into the bar, you followed the beacon of light pouring down from above. Your feet creaked along the old rigid floor as you made your way over to the ladder. You climbed until you couldn’t, taking a small, tired huff. You felt a little better until you realized you had left your knife behind. If Rafe had come across that, it would have been over, and now it was just another thing that you would have to figure out later. If there was a later anyway…

You crawled over to the corner of the upstairs loft, looking down out of the small window. It was an eerie scene as your eyes studied the surroundings below: a couple of four-wheelers, a dirt bike, and two covered cars. You shivered, reaching for the tarp beside you, pulling it over to hide yourself, just in case.

CREAK.

Your eyes shot open, making your head peer out from behind the blue tarp. You froze in horror as Rafe stepped through the open door, his large silhouette and crystal eyes shining into the room. He took a breath before letting out a frustrated growl. “I KNOW YOU ARE IN HERE!” He screamed, the anger and sadness evident in his tone. You brought a hand to your mouth, eyes squeezing shut as his footsteps moved throughout the space.

You watched his every movement as he walked across the loft floor, getting closer to you. His heavy and erratic breathing filled the once-silent space making your heart race as he stepped close enough for you to catch something shiny. You let out a small gasp, seeing the same knife you’d used to kill his own father. The wood creaked underneath his weight as if he heard the noise you let out. You shut your eyes once more, pleading with him in your mind to just go away. You had to hold onto hope for the miracle that he would give up, and you could see him in the morning without having to explain this situation. That was if he would let you explain.

When you thought things were quiet enough to take a peek, you slowly opened your teary eyes only to meet the very ones of the man you loved. His hand wrapped around your throat before you said anything, his grip strong enough to lift you off your feet effortlessly. He squeezes, shoving you into the hard wall. You couldn’t die at the hands of your boyfriend. You weren’t ready, your voice coming out in a pitiful squeak as the tears flowed underneath your mask. “Please stop.”

His hand twists his hand in your hair, his eyes widening as he recognizes those silky strands. He immediately pulls the mask away from your face, his emotion changing. “Y/N?” He asked, looking at you as he calmed his breathing. You heard the knife drop to the ground with a clang before you listened to the sweet name he always called you. “Princess…”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, avoiding his gaze until you felt him cup your cheek. The pad of this thumb ran across your soft skin, which you instantly leaned into. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a deep kiss. You whimpered against him, the terror you had been feeling now washing away. You could feel him smile against your lips; a grin on his face as he pulled back to look down at you.

“You beat me to it.” He spoke in a hushed voice as he watched your eyebrows come together in confusion.

“I… I beat you to it?” You stuttered, earning a chuckle in response from Rafe.

He nodded with a hum as his hand reached up to run through your hair. “Mmhm.. I’m guessin’ you did this for me? That right?” He asked, his other hand holding up the mask you once had on. You looked at it, almost afraid to admit anything.

There was no lying to him, though; you let your head fall as you took a shaky breath. “Yes. I couldn’t stand the fact of him being here another day.” You said, meeting his eyes as carefully looked up at him.

Rafe studied you briefly before his raspy voice spoke out into the darkness. “You’ve been thinking about it for a while. Haven’t you?” He asked, watching as you nodded in silence.

“I have.” You whispered, still unsure if this was set up.

It was him murmuring ‘me too,’ his hands squeezing your hips that you knew he was being genuine. “You should have told me baby. We could have done it together. Huh?” He smirked, his fingertips coming to the button of your dark jeans. Something about you taking his father’s life for him so that he no longer had to deal with the pain and suffering the man caused him had him feral. He didn’t know you would be the one he caught; his family had a lot of enemies, after all. Knowing it was, you had him feeling an entirely different way.

He moved his hand from your pants, coming to his own crisp white shirt to pull off. His toned upper body gleamed under the moonlight shining from the window. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch him, your bloody manicured nails tracing over his broad chest and down to where you could pop the button of his pants open. You heard his breath hitch as you reached even further, giving his hard-on a squeeze. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you in for one last kiss before he turned you to face the wall. He pressed against you from behind, his hands yanking down your jeans and panties in one go. You step out of them, the heat growing more in your lower tummy.

“Co’mere.” He rasped, leading you to the tarp you had once been hiding under. He pulls you down with him, straddling his lap as he works to remove the thin shirt you wore. You reach down into his boxers to pull his hard length out, the fat head soon poking your drooling hole. You feel the burn as he stretches you out, your pretty cries echoing through the barn. You were so full of him, taking all of him as he glided into your soaked core.

“Holy fuck… Rafe!” You gasped, your nails digging into his chest as your head spun with pleasure and adrenaline. Even the way you felt after killing Ward felt nothing compared to the way Rafe made you feel. His eyes looked up at you as he worked you along his body, cock filling you up in the best way.

“You’re so perfect. Yeah? Don’t forget that. My goddamn girl, princess. Fuck. You’re mine.” His voice was like velvet as he reached between the two of you to rub your sweet little pearl in circles.

You were a mess, involuntary clenching around him as you rode him. He let out a groan, watching those pretty tits bounce each time you came down. “You feel so fuckin’ good. Oh my god, baby…” He grunted under the sounds of your skin slapping against his. You were high on all of this, euphoria running through you as you lifted yourself off of him just to come back down with a slam.

“Yeah? You like the way I feel wrapped around you?” You bit at him, taking one of your hands and wrapping it around his throat. You watched as his eyes rolled back while you squeezed, his head tilting back in pleasure. His thick digits on one hand continued the torture on your clit while the other grabbed one of your plush tits.

As much as Rafe loved for you to take control, he couldn’t help but reel you back by rolling you over to be on top. He slams back into you, watching your mouth fall at the sudden change in position. His long cock hits your sweet spot, making you arch your back off the tarp. “Hold still, princess.” He mumbled, gripping the back of your thighs to bring them higher. He spreads you open, nearly folding you in two as his toned hips thrust into you.

“Fuck Rafe!” You squeal, eyes looking at the space between you. The light illuminating through the small loft window reflected off his abs, flexing as he pounded into you. His thick cock shiny with arousal as it rammed into you.

“You know I gotta take charge. Can’t fucking help it when you got a pussy like this, sweetheart. Can you take a little more for me, baby?” He breathed out, watching as you nodded the best you could as you grew closer to your climax. “Mphff? You deserve it, baby. I swear you do.” Rafe says, hooking your legs over his shoulders and letting you take his pounding.

You clawed at him, whining, leaving your babbling mouth as you drew closer to exploding. The heat in your stomach was about to burst, and your thighs quivered. “M’gonna cum.” You mumbled out, your chest breaking out in a flush.

His rough fingers found your clit once more, bringing you to the edge as he rubbed it just enough for you to let go. Clutching at his broad shoulders, you cry out and let him bury his face in your neck as he relentlessly drilled into you. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in this pretty pussy.” He gritted out, his mouth constantly growing more filthy the closer he got.

“Need your cum inside me. Please give it to me.” You begged, breath still short as you were barely off your high.

“Yeah, Princess? You need it? Fuck, you need my cum?”

“Cum in my fucking pussy, Rafe.” His eyes rolled back at the sound of your voice. You felt this cock start to swell and throb inside of you, his groans vibrating off of you as heavy loads of warm spent filled your walls. You whimper softly, his head pulling back only to meet you for a kiss.

He took a few before slowly pulling out, his eyes heavy as he watched his seed slowly spill out of you. It was quite the sight and feeling to have came inside you for the first time on the same night you killed his father. He can’t help but travel his hand down, pushing the sticky liquid back into your swollen hole with a smile. “Fuck.. I love you.” His voice hoarse as he admired all of you.

You let out a quiet giggle, the feeling of being full of him making you satisfied. Grabbing his wrist you lifted his hand to your mouth, sucking on Rafe’s big fingers dripping with his cum and yours, before letting them go with a pop. “I love you too, baby.” You said softly.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” He asked, his facial expression turning more serious as if he needed reassurance.

Without any hesitation, you sat up and wrapped your hand around his bare bicep. “Anything.” You whispered, and you meant that.

A wicked grin spread across his face as soon as he heard that. He looked out at the still-dark sky and hummed in thought. “You know it’s still early. Wanna take the dirt bike and get out of here? I bet we can have some fun.” He said, glancing back at you.

“You have a mask?” You asked curiously. Were you and Rafe really about to go out and Purge? Reaching over to his discarded jeans, he pulled out a black ski mask from the back pocket. He ran a hand over his sweaty bangs, pushing them back to tug the material over his handsome face. His ocean eyes shined through, the same devilish smile on his face.

“What do you say, princess?”

Lily!!!!! You are such an amazing writer and friend. Thank you so much for writing with me 💕☺️🤭🩷 I will forever be a fan of your work. 🥹

⭐ tag ⭐ <- tag list on my pinned post (if your name is crossed out, your tag isn't working💕) @floredaqueen @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @theeternaloptimistt @ditzyzombiesblog @cl4uus @aariahnaa @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @oxpogues4lifexo @babygorewhore @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayor-blog @starkeysprincess @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart

#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafeyscurtainbangs kinktober 2024 🎃#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe #obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe x reader smut #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe kinktober #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron obx

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anniflamma · 3 months ago

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So I’ve received a couple of anonymous messages telling me that they were really disappointed in me for liking Elian's Antinous fanart. Instead of answering them individually, I’m just going to make an angry rant post instead. Most of if probably won't make sense anyway.

This post have talk about SA, and homophobia. Be aware. I don’t ship genuinely Telemachus and Antinous, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t even consider the possibility that ship could even exist. At the end of the day, I don't care about that ship.

And do you want me to explain that I know SA is bad? Or that I’m aware Telemachus/Antinous is a toxic ship? Do you think I’m dumb and don’t know that? You don't have to explain to me either, I know that SA is bad, I have experienced it, you don't have to explain to me, trust me I know.

I like Elian's art because it’s really beautiful. Her work is a huge inspiration and encouragement for me when making animatics. But do I REALLY have to spell out, word for word, that I know Antinous is an antagonist and tries to do bad things? Does it mean every time someone draws Antinous and I like it, I have to explain that I like the drawing because it’s well done, not because I support Antinous’ intent toward Penelope and wants to kill Telemachus?

I mean, I’ve seen tons of thirsty comments like, "I hate how Zeus treats women, but your design is really hot" or "Even if Poseidon SA Demeter, this Poseidon I'd go down on all fours for!"

I have seen some stuff….

I guess I could just imitate something like that????

But I know it’s a joke and I know its a fantasy that someone is expressing. Its not real, its fictional. I know all those thirsty ppl who simp over Poseidon, Zeus, or even Antinous aren’t supporting hatred and violence toward women. And yes, I am expecting that you should already know this too. Because if we gonna assume the worst of ppl… Then everyone who likes Greek myth/Epic the musical are pro SA. "Do you like Crice from Epic the musical? That means that you support her actions, you support SA!" "Oh you like Odysseus?! He killed a baby and all of his female slaves cuz they got SA by the suitors! You support infanticide, slavery and SA!" Do you hear how dumb that sounds? To be honest, I wouldn’t be that surprised if there are some who think like this. I mean, this discussion wouldn’t even be a thing, right.

And if you don’t know, I literally make thirst art of Poseidon (and that includes Zeus and Hermes), and you don’t see it as a bad thing??? It’s Poseidon… Do you know what he has done to women in the myths?!

Im going to ramble here and I will bring up stories from greek myth that have SA in it. So be aware.

One example is the story of Caeneus. When Caeneus was a woman, his parents left him to take care of the house while they were out running errands. Poseidon took that as an opportunity to break into the house and sexually assault him. This is probably the only myth where Poseidon actually feels bad after what he did, so he grants Caeneus a wish. Aww, how sweet~~~ /sarcasm.

Do I need to give an example of Zeus? We all know what Zeus does. But hey, I’ve made Poseidon/Hermes ship art. And guess what? There’s a story where Hermes breaks a woman’s leg so she can’t run away from him, and then he sexually assaults her. Isn’t that cute~~! /sarcasm

Heck, I can even go on with my biblical ships. David/Jonathan—David, a serial assaulter and murderer, and Jonathan, a mass murderer. But do I support their actions? No, I do not support mass murder, and its really dumb that I have to spell it out for you.

Daniel/Darius is even questionable too! It's literally a king and his servant, and that power imbalance is so big I don’t know what to tell you! Do I have to spell it out that I know that, in real life, king/servant relationships aren’t cute at all?!

All of these characters that I’ve listed have done or represent horrible things. And I have to tell you that I don't support their actions?! Really? You really can't think outside the box?

But do you see what I’m trying to tell you? We can simp over other ancient mythological figures but Antinous is the red line that we can never cross??? It’s hypocritical and immature, that’s what it is.

Right now, ppl loves the Ody seduces Zeus art I made. And that "ship" is well really questionable too! But nobody have called me a witch and tries to burn me at the stake yet. 😐

And the thing is, I can separate these fictional characters from the real world. I can also separate the fictional material from other fictional interpretations. Exemple, I like The Song of Achilles, in it, they are the same age, but I am also aware that in the Iliad, Achilles is 16 and Patroclus is 26. But do I automatically assume that Madeline Miller likes teens? No! Do I assume that everyone who likes The Song Of Achilles like that shit? No!

But we still can have a disscussion about it without making it into a witch trial.

As long as we can separate different fictional materials, then everything is fine. It only becomes a problem if a person can’t separate them. Then we have a problem. I can acknowledge that my depiction of King David from the bible is not the same as from the original story and that he is horrible person towards women. If I couldn't acknowledge that, then its bad! The same goes for Antinous if someone makes an AU or headcanon about him. If someone want so make AUs about Antinous, my first thoughts isnt "Oh they like to SA ppl!". At the end of the day, this is just a group from tiktok who didn’t like a toxic ship and decided to bully an artist while acting like they have superior morals.

And I get this type of shit from christians when I make my queer bible interpitations, both from those that don't like the queer stuff but also those that points out that David and Jonathan were horrible ppl.

So I rarely answer comments like this because they usually end up spewing beliefs filled with homophobia and Islamophobia. Heck rasism sometimes, apparently, Christians don’t know that the Bible takes place in the Middle East, and they are angry at me for drawing them looking like Arabs! I just delete their comments before they gets there. Making queer biblical animatics on TikTok that go viral on the Christian side is not fun at all guys....

And hate to say it but tiktok Epic fans sound really similar. You are acting like you’re on a pedestal, holier than thou. Its just a different font.

+ I haven’t forgotten all those homophobic comments I got on my David/Jonathan animatic that I posted right after my Ruthlessness animatic. Epic fans were saying they didn’t want “that gay shit” and wanted to see more Epic stuff. Hate to break it to you all, but the Epic fandom isn’t that innocent.

#Sorry guys got a bit mad there but this puritan attitude gets my nerves cuz I have to deal with that on my queer bible stuff quiet a lot #so when someone acts the same way in the epic fandom yhea grow up #media literacy is dead #epic the musical #greek myths #mentions of sa #tw sa mention #mentions of homophobia #long post #long rant

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the-daiz · 2 months ago

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When you’re sick | One punch man

Synopsis; How the one punch men would act when you’re bed ridden

genre: fluff, hc

Characters: Saitama, Genos, Speed-o’-sound sonic, flashy flash, Zombieman, Garou

side note; My… my hands… wont… stop typing… save me…. I’m gonna hibernate after this post

SAITAMA

Shockingly takes very good care of you

he’s a mundane guy that lives alone and needs to take care of himself, so I’d assume he’s gotten his fair share of sick days

He’ll be softer and more careful with his words

He lets you huddle up in his futon, even if he’s a little annoyed cuz now he needs to find somewhere else to sleep,

he still wants you to be close to him so he can look out for you

makes you lotssss of tea and warm meals

and bananas! (Saitama loves bananas)

he knows all the foods to avoid when you’re sick, ex: eggs

he’ll probably spend most of his day sitting next to you while he watches tv or talks to you about something

doesn’t leave the house to do any hero work so he can stay by your side

like I said before, he takes veryyy good care of you until you feel better

GENOS

oh gets really worried

a little bit frantic even, but he doesn’t let it show

does a shit ton of research about your illness/symptoms and how to take care of it

Consults dr kuseno

who of course gives him a lot of advice

he’s hella dotting

Like fr he doesn’t leave your side

despite being an S-class hero, unless its an absolute emergency, he DOES NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE

Will make sure you take your medication exactly on time

Prepares gourmet type meals for you

Also expect a lot of broth, soup etc etc

Will offer you any form of physical affection you want. Since he’s a cyborg he doesn’t get sick, so will cuddle you all day without complaints if thats what you’d like

He’s constantly checking up on, his cool metal hand pressed gently on your forehead while his mechanic eyes inspect your frame, a small frown etched on his temple.

he’s so cute kms

SPEED OF SOUND SONIC

He knows how to take care of you

he’s gotten sick PLENTY of times, it never lasted long though because his immune system is simply goated

That being said, he’s very… awkward?

he’s concerned and worried, don’t get me wrong, but he’ll probably try to hide it

His words won’t reassure you much but his actions will!

He’ll drop off supplies like medication, food, herbs, or anything else you need, whether you mention it or he decides you need it anyway.

he’ll check up on you a lot, and he’ll try to stay nearby to make sure your safe

but honestly, you having to rely on him when you’re vulnerable makes him feel prideful

he doesn’t admit it, but he kind of likes having you sick, just a tinsy bit

FLASHY FLASH

Oh god

of course he’s terribly worried about you

very aloof about it though

I’ll start with the cons: He’s sort of emotionally distant, and offers very little emotional support, and he won’t try sticking by your side as often as the other characters

Now that that’s out of the way,

He does make sure you have everything you need, and if he’s not with you, probably because he’s doing some hero work, he’ll text you or call very occasionally to ask how you’re doing and if you need anything

If you do mention that you’re feeling worse, he’ll be right by your side in an instant

ZOMBIEMAN

He’s very down-to-earth and calm about it

He won’t fuss over it or worry too much in the slightest

He’ll take good care of you, bringing you meals in bed, drink lots of fluids and getting enough rest

he’ll focus on making you as comfortable as possible too

He’ll leave for hero work every once in awhile, thats unless you’re really sick, then he’ll stay rooted beside you without another word

He’ll spend a lot of time just sitting or laying next to you. If you’re uncomfortably hot and would probably not want him to sleep beside you, he’ll sit on a chair and quietly hold your hand.

If you want him to talk, he’ll talk, and if you don’t, he’ll sit wordlessly without complaints.

he’ll probably crack a joke here or there if the mood is too damp

also, he’ll offer lots of forehead kissess

GAROU

He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got the spirit! 😍😍

this lone wolf isn’t used to taking care of people, let alone himself

He’ll probably tell you to just walk it off, but his protective instincts will kick in anyway

he’ll try to stay by your side as much as possible

he’ll grumble and act like he’s annoyed, but he really isn’t

he’s a little harsh, probably giving you some weird motivation like “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” or smth

he’s genuinely concerned for you though, just be patient with him, he’s trying

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ghoststyles · 5 months ago

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Missed Connections

Harry X YN WC: 6K

No smut in this one. Didn't feel right! Hopefully you like this as much as I do :)

______________________________________________________________

New York City, 1998

This dive bar is abysmal.

Your Coach shoulder bag is sticking to the bar top while a ZZ Top-esque biker gang member chain smokes in the corner, blowing the smoke straight into your face, as One Headlight by the Wallflowers plays at a volume far too loud for your liking.

The bartender places a poorly laminated menu, riddled with ring stains from the thousands of beers and simple cocktails poured over them. You’d be shocked if the vinyl seats don’t carry some sort of venereal disease, making you pull your jean skirt down, minimizing the direct contact with your skin.

It’s a Thursday, your long days in the office, and the start of your best friend, Marcie’s, bachelorette party weekend. When did bachelorette parties turn into a weekend affair, anyway?

You suppose it’s because you’re the only single girl in the group; the only one to actually leave your suburban, central New Jersey upbringing to attend college and build a career in New York City.

This is how you found yourself hosting 4 girls in your 550 square foot apartment for 3 days. Chickie’s the one with the fabulous life in Manhattan, why don’t we visit her! And who are you to say no? If it weren’t for her sister, you’d be Marcie’s Maid of Honor, so an unmitigated amount of guilt fell on your shoulders as the long distance bridesmaid.

“Smile, Chickie, you look miserable. That’s not gonna get you a boyfriend any time soon,” Jenny teases you as she sits on the stool between you and the biker, her nose crinkling as she smells the vapor of the Marlboro reds.

Jenny is the powerhouse of the group; the loud mouthed, opinionated friend who takes pleasure in picking on the other girls. You never pay her any mind. You thought for sure she’d eventually phase out after high school, but here she is nagging you, as usual. Even worse, she used your childhood nickname.

“I’m good, Jen. It’s not looking like my husband is going to walk through the door, anyway,” you laugh exasperatedly, looking around at the empty bar room illuminated by red lights and tons of novelty beer branded mirrors. The biker man leans back on his stool, furrowing his brows at you.

Jen laughs, lighting up her own cigarette and taking a long inhale. “You know, Andrew and I can set you up with any of his colleagues. Most of them are divorced once or twice, but, still good looking.”

Your lips purse out in preparation of a smart comeback, but your eyes divert to the door, where a group of late twenty and thirty something men walk through the door, taking seats at the corner of the bar. They huddle around one another, blocking your view of their faces.

By this point, your girlfriends have changed the music and begin to dance on the tiny checkerboard dance floor, garnering the looks of everyone in the crowded space. Marcie is sloshing her drink around, the miniature veil in her hair slipping down as she moves.

The biker man, your only ally for the evening, is now on a stool by the dartboard, dozing off as he nurses his umpteenth Budweiser. The bartender has refilled your gin & tonic a few times already, to which you place a few bills in his jar to your left.

Marcie and Grace are now twirling around to You’re Still the One by Shania Twain, narrowly bumping into the group of men who walked in earlier. Marcie’s veil is barely grappling onto the top of her head, sending the two into a laughing fit.

You smile gently, still feeling the wave of exhaustion from your day in the office. In your own little bubble, your pocket of peace is disturbed when the stool next to you scrapes across the cement floors, sending an unstoppable shiver up your spine.

“I’ll have a Budweiser, and whatever she’s having,” the new character quietly says to the bartender. Your head whips around to the gentle, but domineering tone, to find he’s not even looking at you. He fishes a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, sliding it in the direction of the barman. His brown, curly hair is unkempt, slightly hanging in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“Thanks, but I can take care of it myself,” you brush him off, immediately turned off by the lack of eye contact.

“You’re the only one in here matching my energy tonight,” he chuckles, before turning his head to the biker in the corner. “Well, except for that guy.”

“I’m sure he’d love a drink,” you smirk, thumb picking at the laminated drink menu in front of you.

The stranger takes a swig of his beer, before placing it gently on the coaster. He finally turns to look at you, and you have to stop yourself from gawking. His striking eyes and perfectly chiseled jaw is the first thing to stand out. Looking down, his sleeves are rolled up to reveal a few sparse tattoos around his wrist and forearm.

“You’re the most miserable bridesmaid, and I’m the most miserable Best Man.”

You scoff, taking a sip of your cocktail before meeting his eyes over the rim of your glass. You place the cup down, jiggling the ice with it.

“Bold of you to make any assumptions about me. I’m just here minding my own business.”

He purses his lips, now fully turning to face you on the stool next to him. “I’ve been here 30 minutes. You’ve only given blank stares to everyone in here, and exchanged glances with the motorcycle guy over there in whatever morse code you two have developed.”

About ready to hop off the stool and storm out, you’re intrigued at the next sentence out of his mouth.

“I’m serious. We might as well get through this night together," he leans on the bar top, fist now supporting his chin. "How about we play 20 questions while your girls take shots and my boys stand there awkwardly watching.”

You scoff indignantly, unbelieving whether or not this twenty-something (thirty something?) man really wants to play 20 questions in the middle of a dive bar on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Laughing to yourself, you turn to face him.

“I’ll go first. Break the ice a little,” he licks his lips, placing his bottle down on the disintegrating coaster on the worn bar top. “Most traumatic childhood memory?”

As the question pours out of his mouth, you take a sip of your watery G&T, eyes bulging at the blatant bold question.

“That—That, is what you start with? What about the name of my first pet? Name of my elementary school?”

“Who am I, your bank?”

A smile finally— finally, makes its way to your lips. The tattooed stranger you met 35 minutes ago doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

From the dance floor, Marcie shoots you a knowing smile before pursing her lips and gyrating, taunting you, since you’re the notoriously modest friend.

You roll your eyes before meeting his — Blue? Green? You can’t really tell in the dim lighting. The Rolling Rocks neon sign is casting a hue over the left side of his face, a smile makes its way onto his face while he awaits your answer.

“My mom left me at a Walmart and didn’t realize for about thirty minutes. I stood with the old man who greets everyone at the door until she came back. Then he bought me a bouncy ball out of the machine in the vestibule so I’d stop hyperventilating.”

He sucks his lip in, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. Hesitating, he speaks again. Reaching for your hands folded neatly in your lap, he places his grotesquely large ones over them, staring into your eyes earnestly.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” his voice dripping with sarcasm and mirth.

Balling up your fists, you shake his hands off of yours. “You asked! I was only 7. It took me months to go back to Walmart, let alone look that poor 75-year old greeter in the eye.”

He chuckles, taking another swig of his beer. “Okay, next question—” he starts, before you interrupt.

“Wait, I don’t get to ask a question?”

He hums, pretending to ponder it.

“Mmmm, nope. I got some good ones,” he replies, gently tapping his temple with his middle finger. He sighs, taking another drink of his beer.

“Is the hokey pokey really what it’s all about?” He slightly tilts his head in your direction, shrugging.

You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. What higher power above sent this creature over to talk to you? Your lip juts out into a pout as your eye contact cuts over to your safe haven — biker man. He seems to have more to worry about, like not falling asleep in the bar.

Recognizing the shock that washes over your face, the man recoups, “Shit, I know — I know, that was so bad.”

It’s the gin. The giggles pour out of you, sending a sharp pain to your stomach. You grab his bicep so you don’t fall off the stool, squeezing the solid muscle there. He snorts, tilting his head back. Your kitten heels scrape the metal bar at the foot of the counter, barely giving you anything to grip on to.

“I’m gonna pee my pants,” tears are fully flowing from your eyes at this point. “I can’t, I can’t.”

The man cackles, placing a hand on your lower back. Now, your group of girls gravitate to your corner of the bar, bumping into one another and spilling their cosmos. His boys have now gained their liquid courage to morph the two groups together. You’re the only single one, but you won’t ruin anyone’s fun.

“And I don’t wanna miss a thing! Even when I dream of you…” Marcie belts out Aerosmith into her pretend microphone. “The sweetest dream will never do, cause I miss you, babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing!”

In that moment, Christina strides over to the two of you with her disposable camera, ushering you to get in frame with him. He smiles down at you — how tall is this guy? Even sitting down he has at least a foot on you. You smile gently, leaning into him as the disposable’s flash goes off.

“So cute!”

You break the tension by latching onto his built body. He’s standing now, making sure not to block you from view of your friends. With just a few minutes from midnight, you finally feel loose and that you could actually have a good time with this guy. His hand hasn’t left your lower back, so he presses you into him before staring down at you.

“Chickie! Come to the bathroom with me,” Grace slurs, grabbing your hand. “It’s upstairs and I don’t think my legs will carry me.”

You inhale through your nose, trying to find a moment of patience for your friend and her unpleasant interruption to the moment you’re sharing with this stranger. You glance up at him, unsure if you should go. The comfort his large frame is intoxicating on its own.

“It’s okay, Chickie. I’ll be here,” he gently touches your lower back.

You nod, smiling up at him gently, allowing Grace to pull you toward the small staircase leading to the bathrooms. The walls of the corridor are riddled with graffiti, old dollar bills and questionable amounts of gum.

Grace pulls you past and inconspicuous second bar (what kind of dive bar has a second floor? Who do they think they are, Le Cirque?) and through the crowd to the bathroom.

The alcohol never feels like it hits until you come face to face with yourself in the dingy bathroom mirror. Despite your long history with drinking, (hellloooo football games in 10th grade drinking Burnett’s from the bottle) every heavy drinking night feels like the first time. You wait for Grace to finish up before hovering yourself over the toilet, unwilling to touch skin to porcelain.

You both wash up, taking a moment to sniff each other’s pits, fluff each other’s hair and dab a damp paper towel on the backs of your necks to cool you off.

The burst of hot air upon opening the bathroom door is enough to knock you out, but, nevertheless, the two of you persist through the throng of bodies that appeared out of nowhere. You’re the blind leading the blind at this point, but you drag Grace’s half-limp body to the top of the steps, peering out over the crowd in hopes of spotting your guy.

You trudge down the stairs, the pounding of the wood reverberating straight to your brain, heartbeat picking up when you don’t spot him towering over the group anymore. You situate Grace on a stool next to biker man, silently nodding at him to watch over your friend before finding Jen, Christina and Marcie.

“Jen, where did that group of guys go?” You tried to keep cool, not wanting to fall victim to her taunting, even if she’s inebriated.

“Mmmm, who? OH! The bachelor party. They left.”

Your heart drops, cursing yourself for letting your guard down. Of course it was only a love connection on your end. As a last ditch effort, you look over the crowd, only to find biker man exiting the bar into the night.

“O-oh, um, did the — did the taller guy say anything before they went?”

“No, the groom was pretty fucked up. They basically carried him out. Sorry, Chickie.”

Marcie suddenly bursts between the two of them, placing her arms around their shoulders.

“I’m ready for some McDonald’s!”

Why the fuck are you at the internet cafe?

It’s 1:30 PM on a Wednesday, and your boss thinks you’re on a lunch break. After being talked off the ledge by your girlfriends while flipping through the Sunday Times after draining a bottle of cabernet, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Your mystery man from the bar hasn’t left your mind all week. Replaying the initial interaction — a bit cold, on both of your parts. But, the way he so easily opened you up and turned your night around kept you hooked.

In a city of 7 million, the odds of finding him again were slim to none, so you assessed your options:

Going back to Mick’s.

Recruiting biker man to scour the city with you Ghostbusters style. He gave you his business card for exactly that purpose.

Or writing a missed connections ad on Craigslist.

So, here you are, sat between a high schooler instant messaging on AOL and an old man using Ask Jeeves to diagnose a very personal medical issue. Taking a deep breath, you start the ad.

Every stroke of the keyboard was painful. This is so insanely out of your comfort zone, but the longing in your chest is too strong to ignore. The ad is the perfect mixture of nondescript and casual, but gives enough context that even if he were as dense as his friend group, he’d know it was him.

Pressing post, you immediately exit the window, paying your $0.75 for internet time and a print out and fly out the door, a bell jingling in the path of your haste. You shove the ad in in the book in your purse and stomp down the street. The old man makes eye contact with you through the window, snarling a bit at your startling movement. It makes you want to yell at him through the window to go see a fucking doctor!

The heels you have on were not made for walking; exactly the opposite of what that insufferable Carrie Bradshaw promotes on that new show. It’ll be off the air soon enough. Reluctantly, you call a cab and head back to the office in hopes of taking your mind off the possibilities — a happy ending, or heartbreak.

The nervous tapping of your foot echos across the marble floor of Effie’s Café. Arriving 20 minutes early, you rotated back and forth between the wicker chairs at this clearly 4 person table. Should you face the door? He’ll see you in the daylight and make a run for it. How about your back to the door? No, he could actually be a murderer and attack you from behind. From the side? No, these are standing jeans only.

Sigh. You decide to push your anxieties aside and order a glass of white wine, sitting with your back to the door to play up the mystery a bit more. One glass turns into two, and now you’re slightly sloshed for a Thursday at lunch time, hoping and praying you unlock the sweet, cool-girl personality you left him a taste of.

The café starts to pick up for the lunch rush, so you don’t immediately recognize the familiar deep voice of someone is trying to get your attention from behind you.

“Ladybug, is that you?”

Ladybug?

Slowly shifting your head to look over your right shoulder, your heart flutters at the tattooed forearm attached to the hand gripping the back of your chair. Only this time, the arm is attached to a tall, clean-shaven, blonde man.

You look up, making contact with his blue eyes. Now you’re certain that mystery man had green eyes. The man in front of you smiles down at you as he pulls his chair out to sit. It’s like he’s not even recognizing everything wrong about this situation.

He’s the wrong guy. You’re the wrong girl. Ladybug is the wrong nickname.

“Um, hi. I’m no—

“It’s nice to meet you, officially. I’m Garrett,” he extends his hand to shake yours. You stare at it, dumbfounded and scheming your next move.

“I think there may be a misunderstanding. I was trying to contact someone —.”

“No misunderstanding. You sounded like a sweet girl in the ad. I’m just lucky my impression matches you physically. You’re stunning”

No. Nope. Absolutely not. It’s not an honest mistake. He didn’t happen to speak to a girl in a dive bar with a silly nickname and tell stupid jokes just to get them to smile. This is the epitome of all of the warnings your parents gave you on computer safety. Sucking in a sharp breath, you locate the nearest exit, and look around in the most subtle way possible to flag down an employee.

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you do for work?”

“I think I need to leave, this was a mistake —.”

“Mm, I don’t think so,” Garrett fakes interest in your unsettled body language. “You asked for this.”

You finally spot your server, grabbing crumpled bills from your purse to give to her on your way out. Garrett grabs your wrist firmly, preventing you from reaching your wallet. “I’d like to get to know you. We just got here.”

Panic. A feeling you’ve felt everyday since you could remember. Whether it’s being forgotten at a superstore, or sending an incorrect document, destroying the contract for your largest client, panic claws its way out of your central nervous system at any opportunity.

You look down at your shaking hands, trying to conjure up a plan. Do you run? Scream? Throw your wine at him as a distraction? This man, while he hasn’t intimidated you physically, he’s loud and clear with his intentions.

“Hi! Welcome to Effie’s. I’m Alannah. Can I start you off with any drinks?”

Garrett smiles up at the young girl sweetly, opening his mouth to speak. You decide to play it cool for another few minutes to minimize the risk of retaliation.

“I’ll have an iced coffee — black. and the lady will have a green tea with lemon.”

You scowl, as if you’re more concerned about what he ordered for you than the fact that you feel threatened by his presence all together. Luckily, you still had your glass of wine from when you thought you would find mystery man.

“Great, I’ll be right back. Let me know if you have any questions about the menu,” Alannah smiles at both of you before spinning on her heel, ponytail flinging over her shoulder.

Your jaw is tight, unwilling to make eye contact with your dining partner. Your heartbeat has steadies out tremendously as more people filter into the café. Remaining casual, you begin to unroll the silverware placed neatly on the teal plate. You place the napkin on your lap, lining up the two forks and knife on the table.

Garrett has been talking this entire time, unbeknownst to you as you gather the courage to carry out your plan. You smile tightly, nodding to give some semblance that everything this okay. Glancing at your fork, you lock your eyes on his left hand sitting limply on the table, moving every so often as he drones on.

You send him one last sickeningly sweet smile before grabbing the fork nonchalantly. Twisting it around in your fingers, you inhale deeply and swiftly sink the salad fork into the flesh of his hand and shoot out of your chair, purse in hand. The chair scoots across the floor and ultimately tumbles to the side of you bringing on some stares from other diners. Alannah screams, dropping the drinks and covering her mouth, staring at the fork sticking out of his forehand. Adrenaline pumping through your blood stream, you waste no time taking your platform sandals off and making a run for it. Disgusting New York City streets be damned.

Garrett is red in the face, gritting his teeth as he screams after you, a death grip on his now injured hand. Diners and workers of the café gather around him, giving you an extra few seconds to escape.

Flying down 96th street, you expertly weave through the Upper West Side lunch crowd, feeling every wad of gum and broken beer bottle under your feet. Eventually, as your adrenaline-induced track meet is quickly dying out, so you stop on the corner between the flower shop and laundromat.

The street looks familiar. The bodega with the yellow awning illuminated by the red ‘Bar’ sign to its right. The sounds of the city are drowned out by your heavy breathing, but you’re certain your heart stops beating for a moment.

Mick’s Bar.

Look at it this way — a full circle moment. You can wash away the utter shit show of a day and raise one last glass to close the chapter of pining over the mystery man. Somber mood and slightly sweating, you bow your head and head down the clump of 3 steps to the street-level establishment.

The smell of stale beer and popcorn infiltrate your senses, sending you straight back to that night. Retracing your steps to the end stool, you sigh, pulling it toward you with your still bare feet. You’ll find a way to soak them in acid later.

The same bartender acknowledges you, most likely not even remembering your previous interactions. You're glad he doesn’t think you’re some pathetic woman trying to chase after a man. You are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

The barman places a coaster in front of you, silently waiting for your order.

“Gin and tonic, please. A double. With lime.”

He nods, ducking down to tend to his well, filling up a pint glass with ice and heavy-pouring the gin. You sigh again, gently grabbing the back of your neck and rubbing the muscle, willing away the inevitable tension headache coming later.

There aren’t many people in here; Just a few couriers and other non-office workers. You’re slightly envious of them being able to spend their days outside of a beige and cold office building. Quiet chatter amongst them stops when the bell chimes above the door.

Like straight out of a movie, Biker man stumbles through the door, his leather vest swiping the handle of the door. The bartender snickers and shakes his head as he pushes your drink towards you, indicating he wants your credit card. You nod, handing over your MasterCard, expecting no other interactions in return.

He looks at Biker man. Then you. Then back to Biker man, nodding his head knowingly. You’re not sure what this means, but you're trying to erase the last 2 hours from your memory.

Biker man’s thick, heavy boots thunder across the wood plank floors, sending the rickety stools into a rattling chorus of squeaks. He coughs up what sounds like a lung and waits for his beer, not even acknowledging the bartender. He’s now a stool over from you, staring at the screen portraying some sort of horse race.

Taking one long gulp of your drink, you turn to face him, the liquid courage hitting you immediately.

“Sir? Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’m not sure if you remember me—” you trail off when he doesn’t even face you, his salt and pepper beard making it hard to read his face.

Waving slightly, you confirm you’re in fact talking to him, so now his bloodshot eyes make contact with yours over the frame of his sunglasses.

“I, um, I was here with a few of my girlfriends, um, the other night. A-and I met a man—”

“Tall fella? Came in with a group of guys and they drug one out of here like a corpse?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my goodness, I can’t believe you remember.”

“My bar sweetie, I need to remember who comes in.”

“You’re Mick?” you choke out in disbelief. You want to laugh, because the imaginary life you made up for biker man did not live up to reality.

For your whole life, you tended to grasp onto little moments with strangers that others wouldn’t think twice about.

You still remember the Walmart greeter that waited with you until your mom came back to get you. You remember your sixth grade bus driver who pulled you aside to give you a pep talk when the older girls picked on you. You remember the woman next to you on a plane who held your hand during turbulence. You grow attached, dreaming up scenarios that are probably so far from the truth. It's harmless fun for you.

It’s why you’re clinging onto your mystery man. There are alarm bells going off in your brain you've never felt before, refusing to let it be a fleeting moment.

“I’ve owned this place for 35 years. Seen everything you can imagine happen here. Celebrations of life, death, marriage. Lots of heartbreak.”

You’re not sure if you’re too tipsy, but his words make you want to cry. What is he trying to say?

“Teddy, two rounds here, please,” Mick signals the barman who promptly whips up four… lemon drop shots? Biker man — Mick— didn’t strike you as the type to take shots like a sorority girl.

He shrugs, pushing two shots over to you. You clink your tiny shot glasses together, tossing your head back and licking the sugar on the rim.

Both of you push your glasses toward Teddy and reach for the second, as the bell jingles above the door. With the bar being street level, the sun reflects off the cars outside, slightly blinding you as someone walks in, footsteps thumping.

You and Mick continue on, throwing back your next shot. You wince, this one slightly more lemony than the previous. Mick exhales loudly, shaking his head.

“Careful, Chickie. It’s too early to be having this much fun.”

You freeze, unwilling to believe this is happening. It has to be an alcohol induced hallucination.

“Uhm, ah, hi,” you stutter, looking between the three men staring at you. You feel like you’re on an episode of Maury.

“Sweetheart, he’s been in here every day at the same time to ask Teddy if you’ve stopped in to try and find him, too. The shots were just to ease your anxiety since I knew he’d be in on his lunch hour.”

Due to a short circuit in your brain, you can’t decide who you’re more mad at — Mick, or Teddy. They could’ve told you mystery man has been searching for you, too.

The mystery man blushes, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pleated khakis, staring down at his worn Dockers loafers. His striped rugby shirt reminds you of Steve from Blue’s Clues, but you're willing to over look that.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Teddy smiles gently, ushering Mick to the office.

The man sits on the stool previously occupied by Mick, and as he sits, he uses his ankle to pull your stool closer to him.

“I’m Harry. Nice to officially meet you,” he smiles, making two dimples you didn’t previously notice appear.

“Chick—Y/N. I’m Y/N,” you giddily grab his massive hand, shaking it gently.

He sighs, taking a swig of his Budweiser, “So, let’s get this out in the open. How pathetic am I for coming back here every day for a week straight to ask about you?”

Cackling softly, you shake your head, ducking down to retrieve your bag from the hook under the bar. You pull out your copy of A Beautiful Mind, pulling the slip of paper out from the slightly worn pages.

“Not as pathetic as this,” You hand it to him, waiting for him to open it. “You ever read the Missed Connections ads on Craigslist?”

Harry smiles, reading the ad. He’s glad you remember the small details of that night like he does. He’s not making it up in his head.

“I don’t have a computer. But, they usually print these in the Times on Sundays. I would’ve seen it, but about a week late,” he giggles, his green eyes meeting yours when he looks up.

“Well, I’m glad this nightmare has a happy ending. I went to the café, and a random man showed up pretending he was you! I ran out of there so fast. I’m scared to think about what would’ve happened if I stayed.”

Harry grabs your lower back, the light touch comforting you as you recount the horrors.

“Chickie, I’m so sorry that happened. The internet is scary. I’m honestly terrified of what it’ll be like in 30 years.”

“And to make it worse, he called me Ladybug. Ladybug! I’m clearly a Chickie,” you giggle. “I’ve been dying to hear another one of your terrible jokes.”

Instead of opening his mouth, he leans in to place a chaste kiss on your dried lips.

The alcohol is hitting you much harder than it should be, so you kiss back, forgetting about the entire audience in the bar. You can’t even begin to care that you’ll be two hours late returning to work, drunk as a skunk.

You’ll blame it on fate.

~ New York City, 2000

“I wish I could travel back in time to prevent us from signing a lease on a 5th floor walk-up,” you sigh, plopping down with your boyfriend on the red bean bag he got from Sears. He’s out of breath, having just carried up 3 boxes while you followed behind him clutching lamps, hangers and basically anything you could get your small hands on.

Harry kisses your slightly sweaty hair, petting any of the strays out of your eyes.

“You’ll have a really toned butt by Christmas. Not a bad investment on my end,” Harry laughs as he dodges your sharp elbow digging into his side.

“I can’t even fathom getting groceries and making dinner. Okay if we order in?”

“You don’t want to meet our new bodega guy?”

“He’ll see me at my worst soon enough. Let’s leave him wondering a little longer. I do love a bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel when I’m hungover,” you giggle, inhaling Harry’s natural scent. If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d hop into bed (your bare mattress on the floor of your 800 square foot apartment) right now.

“Sure, baby. We can order in,” he pats your thigh, signaling you to let him stand up. He stretches, examining the room.

His heart swells at the perfect mix of the two of of you in your first apartment together. Your excessive shoe collection. His beloved Gibson guitar that he serenaded you with your favorite song on one of your early dates. He sang Lady by the Styx, not realizing you meant Lady by the Commodores. But, you didn’t have the heart to tell him until your first anniversary.

Now you’re here, two years later and stronger than ever. He spots a film strip hanging on the fridge from Marcie’s wedding. You hogged the booth for well over 15 minutes, kissing, touching, exploring.

You begged for a plus one at the last second, forcing her to tell her uncle he can’t bring a date. Neither of you feel bad. Next to that film strip is the photo Christina took of the two of you the night you met, held up by a Mick's Bar magnet. She didn't get the film developed until weeks after the bachelorette.

The photo would've helped your search efforts!

The empty walls are begging to be filled with canvases, knick knacks and music posters. You learned Harry works at a music recording studio as a fill-in guitarist and a part-time artist. His art style itches something in your brain you can’t describe — falling in love with every piece he comes home with.

The boxes will consume you for a few weeks, but he’s excited to be taking this next step with you.

Harry tosses the Sunday Times at you, “Why don’t you read me the missed connections from this week while I put some stuff away. You did a lot to organize the closet this morning, so I don’t want you to move for the rest of the night.”

Harry putters with the dishes, praying they’re clean enough to go in the cupboard. He's haphazardly putting things away, trying to calm his nerves.

“Ooh, yes. I missed last week,” you flip to the section, adjusting the paper in your hands so you can see better. Clearing your throat, you read aloud.

“I was reading a book on the Q train, you were the cute woman sitting next to whom I assume was your mom, but you get kept sending glances my way when she wasn’t looking. I get it, no matter what your age, it’s weird to flirt with your mom next to you. I got off at Atlantic and you shot me a smile. Dunno why I’m even posting here lol almost zero chance of you seeing this. Oh well, gotta try at least.”

Harry smiles, glancing at you as you peruse the page. He can’t pretend to be busy for much longer. You giggle before starting the next one.

“Did you lose an entire ham? It's a bone-in ham, not sure it's obvious from the photo. It's been eaten on some parts, but there's definitely some serious meat left on it. Looks like it was pretty tasty in its day.”

He laughs, his leg anxiously bouncing against the lower cabinet. He leans on the counter for support, gently swiping over his sweat pant pocket. Closing his eyes, he waits.

Scanning the page, you gasp.

You drop the paper in your lap, watching your boyfriend leave your tiny kitchen with the black and white checker floor tile to kneel in front of you on your ratty bean bag chair. Your hands cover your mouth as some tears threaten to spill over your eyes. It’s like everything is in slow motion.

Harry’s tearing up, too, as he pulls a velvet box from his pocket, opening it slowly to reveal an emerald cut diamond ring on a simple gold band. Elegant and timeless, like you.

He swallows thickly, finding the courage to speak.

“I could’ve gone on and on in the ad, but I figured I’d save it for now,” he laughs nervously. You still have your hands in front of your face, scared to move them in case this is a dream.

“Since the night we met, I knew we were meant for each other. I haven’t had many moments in life where I’ve made the right decision, but I can say with my whole heart that I love you and want you to be my wife.”

You sob slightly, still donning a wide grin. You let him finish.

“I would’ve married you the day we found each other again at Mick’s. But, I didn’t want to scare you,” he laughs again, a small tear escaping.

“Chickie, will you marry me?”

“Oh, Harry,” you blubber, jumping to your knees to wrap your arms around his neck. “Of course! Yes, yes, please.”

Pushing him to the ground, you lay across him, peppering kisses on his face and neck.

When you’ve both calmed down, you’re laying in between his legs, leaned back against the bean bag, basking in the moment. You haven’t even called any friends or family, yet. There’s an uncorked bottle of wine on the floor that you’ve been taking swigs of, absolutely over the moon and tipsy.

"Why did you let me read the one about a ham before asking me the most important question of your life?"

He kisses you to shut you up. You sigh contently, thinking about your future.

After some silence, Harry quietly asks, “Do you think we can force Mick to become an ordained minister?”

You cackle, turning your head to look back at him.

“That was the first thing that came to my mind.”

________________

EEEEEE! I HOPE YOU LIKED IT :))))))) IT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE ABOUT OLD REFERENCES EVEN THO I WAS A BB DURING THAT TIME

Pls let me know what you think <3

ALSO BIKER MAN IS THE REAL MVP I WAS SO HYPE TO KEEP REFERENCING HIM LOL

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #imagine #concept #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #dom!harry #fluff

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loverofstufflof · 3 months ago

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Ways to consume Journey to the West (without needling to buy and read a full translation)!

I’ve noticed that a lot of people can’t read the book for a lot of different reasons, so I’ve compiled a couple of my favourite ways of consume the story while bypassing these problems, categorized by the various issues I’ve come across.

Note that this is mainly for English speakers, as that’s the language I default to for translations.

The book is too inaccessible/expensive for me to obtain physically

Journey to the West Research has an entire blog post dedicated to compiling free PDF versions of the book. This includes many languages, not just English.

I struggle with reading text in that quantity

There are abridged versions of the story, my personal favourite is the one by Julie Lovell—it’s approximately a quarter of the original story’s length, and mainly focuses on the most iconic chapters. These versions are also typically more easily found in local bookstores.

I struggle with reading novels in general

The story has been converted into audio form! Here are the ones off the top of my head, each listed with their own pros and cons:

Journey to the West: An Audio Drama Series is an original translation told in a read-aloud format, in which the host, Lin, acts as a kindly librarian reading to a group of awaiting 1st graders. She gives every character a distinct voice and personality, and she’s obviously delighted to be able to share her culture with the listeners. The show used to have free translation notes, where Lin gets to act as a disgruntled translator going on about the intricacies of the Chinese language and historical/mythological contexts, but these now require a subscription to access. This show is the reason why I know how to pronounce these characters’ names.

Legends Summarized: The Journey to the West by Overly Sarcastic Productions is one that I’m sure I don’t need to include (because of how widespread it is) but feel I should because someone is gonna mention is anyways. It’s a very summarized, very sarcastic retelling of Red’s favourite chapters in the book, accompanied by fun visuals and the excitement of someone who clearly knows and loves what they’re talking about. As Red has said herself, this series should not be your only source of JTTW knowledge, as she simplifies it a ton to make it more digestible. Great for people who are just getting into the story and want a general overview, not great for people who want a more in-depth understanding of the themes and other complexities.

Journey of the Monkey King is a podcast akin to a longform, more in depth version of the OSP series. It consists of two Irish comedians discussing one chapter per episode; one of them (Caoimhe) has read the book, the other (MJ) hasn’t. The format is mainly Caoimhe giving a comedic abridged version of the chapter while MJ gawks in horror at whatever absurdity the Monster-of-the-Week presents. Because it’s hosted by Irish people, there isn’t much cultural context given, and some names are butchered, however I do find this one a lot easier to follow in comparison to the Audio Drama Series, and it’s far more detailed than Legends Summarized.

Journey to the West English Amateur Audiobook is one that is on my radar but have not started. To my current knowledge, it is an audiobook version of the WJF Jenner translation, which is notable to me because most of these types of podcasts are derived from the Anthony C Yu translation, so this one would be a nice listen to compare how the two went about handling the text.

Please know that this post isn’t intended to shame anyone into consuming the story; it’s not for everyone! But I’ve come across my fair share of aspiring fans who couldn’t access the book in a way that suited them (including myself) so I wanted to make this knowledge more generally know for anyone else who might need it :]

#journey to the west #jttw #xiyouji #there are a TON of podcasts that discuss this book I barely scratched the surface #sorry for the monkey posting I have Journey brain atm #post!

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just-another-author-i-guess · 2 years ago

Note

so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛

Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it

Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻

Summary: idk, porn?

Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!

Marshall smut headcannons

Word count; 2,6K

Smut under the cut!

He is SUCH a tease, omg

Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it

(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit)

He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave

Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart

He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact

You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are

Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?”

If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him

Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously

“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe

Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle

Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to

The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before

Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao

Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however

The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off

Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms

Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off

But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too

It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋

He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life

This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways

And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities

He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking

Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red

But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic

Sometimes he won’t even ask ):

Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you

But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in

And your blood is heavenly to him

Much better than drinking colours all the time fr

Ngl, your period would be love making season for him

Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner

But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner

Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏

He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin

He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭

Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period

But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say

So take it like a champ lol

He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly

His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does

His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex

But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere

Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there

And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking

No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard—

I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶

Anyways

As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay

He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick;

His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.

You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.

He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip

“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you.

His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time

You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him

Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around

He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap

Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead

He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough

He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours

He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck

You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising

He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin

“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.”

You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck

With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.”

Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily

He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin

The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite

With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices

Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch

His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation

Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you

If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck

Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well

You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all

You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit

However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came

When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans

You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking

The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears

After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls

He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside

Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you

He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?”

You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck

He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane

He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips

You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own

He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face

It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care

All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands

His statement was true, though

You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch

Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw

“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways

He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”

Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch

You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal

He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement

He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly

When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting

You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable

You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans

He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you

He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations

That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out

He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him

He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed

You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength

Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast

His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration

When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came

He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you

You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy

It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again

He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up

Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after

He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after

He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you

He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable

He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel

Awe, he’s so cute (,:

He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰

Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much

And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so..

No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit

Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself

In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢

He’s so hot pls 🥲✋

He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.

Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏

#marshall lee x reader #marshall lee #marshall lee hc #smut hcs #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake #adventure time #help this is a kids show why am I writing smut about it

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miss-cincaide · 2 months ago

Text

Pretty Broken Things

Summary: Toji Fushiguro was a cruel, possessive man who didn’t like it when someone played with his toys. He was especially unhappy when someone touched his favourite toy. The last straw was when you decided to not do as told. it was just jealousy, pure and simple.. Or was it?

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Toji Fushuguro Kinktober prompt 5: Jealousy sex: WC: 3.7 K Warnings: Dark Content, Minors DNI!This fic contains: toxic relationship, Toji is a huge red flag & yandere, dirty talk, object play in mouth and v (weapon), hj, dub-con, yandere behaviour, dirty talk, alcohol and cursing, mystery and murder (side char) Author note: Am I ever gonna write a healthy, green flag Toji? Honestly, not sure.. But what I am sure about is that, that day is not today! Enjoy

Toji had the emotional maturity of a pre-schooler!

The spoiled brat kind with a ton of games and toys always cried for new ones, yet once he got them, he’d play with them for a week before discarding them in the back of the closet, never to be touched again. At least until someone paid attention, or, god forbid, played with them. In that instant, Toji would have a change of heart, and those unused things he hadn’t touched in months became the very best things in existence.

Except toys weren’t toys, but human beings and unused things were the countless women he seduced with his bad-boy persona. All those poor bitches who thought they’d be able to change Toji. To melt his jackass persona, to claw their way into his heart and nest there for life while he burned the world that wronged them. Be special to him, his ‘one and only princess’.

Fucking idiots. Including yourself.

Still, you knew that no matter how many women he eye-fucked on the dance floor, how many women he had in his lap at the drinking booth or how many throats he shoved his tongue down, the second someone showed interest in you, you would have his full and undivided attention. You were his ‘favourite’ for a reason, after all.

So you knew exactly what you were doing when you sat at the half-empty bar beside a suit-clad man instead of joining the other fawning girls at Toji’s booth. Before you even managed to get comfortable, the man turned to face you, flashed you a smile and leaned just a little too close for comfort. “Hey, pretty, you alone?”

You saw his eyes trail down your cleavage, which moderately showed through the little black dress you picked for the evening. The dress was moderately modest and stopped a few inches above your knees, but it hicked up deliciously up your leg as you crossed your legs in your seat. The man’s eyes dropped instantly to your bare thigh, then back up to your face. The lewd grin on his face clearly said he appreciated your beauty.

You, in turn, resisted the urge to slap that smirk and wiggling eyebrows right off his face. If the bastard thought he could pull off Toji’s signature move, he had another thing coming. Instead, you just gave him an awkward smile that looked a lot more like a grimace. That didn’t deter him; if anything, the man seemed to relish in your smile- the lack of an immediate rejection was taken as an invitation to continue. “Tell you what? Let me buy you a drink, and we will get to know each other a little better.”

The hell no died on your lips the second you felt Toji’s menacing stare in your back. The scalding glare made you shudder. You knew he disapproved without turning around and seeing his frowning expression. You straightened your back a little and turned your entire body to face the stranger. Then you leaned against the bar and rested your head on your propped-up arm as you looked him up and down with a slightly more pleasant smile. “In that case, an old-fashioned, on the rocks.”

The man whistled lowly, “A woman with character, I like that; I’m Tom, by the way” he motioned for the bartender to fix you your drink and put it on his tab, completely oblivious to the approaching threat, aka Toji, who abandoned is booth and made his way towards the bar. His baritone voice and the girl giggling on his arm enough on an announcement to draw heads, either in jealousy or frustration at his shameless loud behaviour. You heard him and the girl settle a few chairs away from you and order drinks of their own.

You saw Toji from the corner of your eye, the unmistakable tension in his jaw and the warning stare that so obviously ordered you to quit playing about. Flipp the wus you were with and come over to him like a good girl. Be good. Be obedient.

You turned your back more to him, avoided his stare and focused on the man in front of you. But you knew precisely what you were doing as you reached forward and accepted the drink. And then another one and a third. With each promile of alcohol, you became more and more relaxed, your smile less forced, and you even genuinely laughed at Tom’s awful jokes.

You were entertained, far from happy, but at least you weren’t wasting away another day attention-less and pitiful, waiting for the off chance that Toji decided he was done whoring around and came back to you.

You snorted at the thought, at your own damn foolishness, and masked by the half-quiet music of the bar and the clang of ice in your glass as you finished yet another drink. You turned expectedly back to your companion. Rather than refill your glass, he flashed you a toothy smile, then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “How about we take this somewhere private?”

You gaped. You also heard Toji snort into his drink. That was all the motivation you needed to agree. You let Tom help you off your barstool, then trail behind him towards the back exit of the bar. You doubted the two of you would make it very far from there. As you passed Toji, he froze you with his mere sideway glare.

“You’ve had your fun, doll” Toji growled, his dark blue eyes almost rage-black. “Behave.”

You stepped in Toji’s direction, and his interest returned to the drink and the older woman that clung to him like a school girl. If you were pathetic for being hung up on Toji; this woman was just pitiful.

Tom glanced over his shoulder, noticed you didn’t follow him and stopped walking. An awkward look on his face, his hand in his hair as his eyes flickered from you, to the woman and then Toji. “Do you know this man?”

You tore your eyes away from your competition to the stranger, then to Toji’s smug expression as if he expected you to settle on his other arm or replace the old hag he got bored of. Maybe, if you did it cleanly and with a good cat-fight, he’d even get you a drink as a reward. You glanced away from Toji, unable to look at that condescending look that clearly stated you weren’t going anywhere without him. You were His doll, his property through and through.

“No clue who that is.”

You didn’t look at Toji, didn’t spare him a second glance, or even acknowledge the hackling woman on his arm who loudly made comments about you. Clearly, she was familiar with Toji’s favourite routine and intended to provoke you into a catfight. To secure her place beside him for a few more hours. To feel mighty that she could beat someone clearly 20 years younger than her, and to feel better about her own shitty self.

You followed Tom outside the bar. You tried to look calm, but inside you were freaking out. What the fuck did you just do? God, you just knew Toji was going to make you regret it. Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. You should not have said that. Maybe there was still time to go back and apologize?

You realized you were fucked.

The stranger pulled open the flimsy metal back door. It gave away with a squeak and your numb legs carried you into the cold outside. You felt sick to your stomach; anxiety spiked to unimaginable levels. You wobbled, stumbled, caught yourself last second without making it far from the damned bar. Tom came to stand in front of you; his hand on your arm steadied you. “Hey there, you’re looking kinda–” Pang

You didn’t have time to react before hot blood sprayed over your hair and face, some of it dropped on your clothes. Your ears rang, the sound from the gunshot behind you deafening. For a second, everything was still, and your mind could not comprehend what had happened. You just stared at Tom’s face—how the concern look morphed into shock. His mouth opened and closed, a gurgling sound was all that came out. His hand tightened on your arm, then let go, and his body collapsed backwards onto the concrete floor with a ‘duns’.

The reality came back. Your panic was unmistakable and unmanageable anymore.“Ahh-”

“Shut up, whore!” Toji’s authoritative tone came from behind you, inside the bar, instantly silenced you. You glanced over your shoulder through the open door. The sight of him with his gun raised will forever be embedded in your memory. You swore it was still smoking, the comic-like white smoke poofing off the nuzzle, but it couldn’t be; that’s not how guns worked… did they?

Toji stepped towards you, and that small act snapped you out of your trance. He was gonna kill you too; you were sure of it. Your legs moved towards the exit without registering it. No, you weren’t ready to die, you weren’t—

Slam

Your back slammed against the wall as Toji pounced on you; his entire weight restrained you with ease. Like a rag doll, he could manoeuvre you how he wanted to with practiced ease. “Owi-” Your whine was cut off as you caught sight of the gun, fliched as he brought it to your face. You could feel its heat and weight on your lower lip, the barrow aimed at you, angled at an awkward angle up. Would he shoot you in the face too? Shoot off your face?

You froze, too afraid to move. To stunned to make a pip.

“What don’t you fucking understand, whore? I said Shut. It.” Toji was furious; his eyebrows frowned, and a storm brewed in his expression. Such fucking jealous fury that you could have thought you had pissed in his cornflakes and then hand-fed it to him. A fury not warranted of you leaving a bar with another man.

“ I decide what’s warranted you brat.” Toji snapped, having easily read your thoughts. “And I told you ‘behave’, loud and fucking clear, didn’t I? DIDN’T I?!”

“ Yes”, you breathed, your eyes flickered to the side, your gaze landed on Tom’s lifeless body. Your stomach turned, and bile rose in your mouth until Toji pulled back an inch and then slammed your body against the wall again. Stars danced in your vision, the need to be sick faded as your eyes landed back on his face. Another pained moan fell from your lips.

Toji used that opportunity to push the gun barrel in your mouth.

“ You look at me when I’m talking,” he growled, pushing the gun as far in as it would go. “The heck I’m supposed to do with you? Tsk. I turn my fucking head for a minute, and you’re whoring yourself out to some slimeball. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.”

You couldn’t tell what made Toji more furious; the fact that you were ‘whoring yourself out’ or the man you had picked for the occasion. Why the latter would matter you had no clue but you weren’t about to question him when he was in that mood.

Seconds ticked by, yet to you they felt like agonizing years.

You swallowed thickly, the only movement you dared to do. Toji’s eyes flickered to your throat, then back to your face. The furious expression shifted into a toothy grin. “What are you waiting for? Special fucking invitation? You wanna slut around, then go on, suck this fucking gun like it were that filth dick.”

“W-what?” You gasped; the words came out muffled. Surely he didn’t just-

“Suck it!”

He did. Fuck. How did you even..? Okay, no choice, you had to pretend it was a dick. Or a dildo. Yeah, that could work. It wouldn’t be the first time you sucked off an inanimate object. You just need to get your head in the game, focus, make it look sexy. Believe it. Or you’re done for.

You took a deep breath through your nose, forced yourself to think of the last time you gave a blowjob, then shifted your head back just a little to give yourself more room to work with. Just a dildo, you told yourself before you started. You bobbed your head back, stuck your tongue out and ran it over the warm metal. Wiggled it over the barrel, lingered on the opening, and then took it back in your mouth as you could. Your eyes water, lips brushed against Toji’s calloused fingers, then moved back as they twitched.

You repeated the movement until the anger in his face melted into something carnal. Until you felt his bulge pressed against your thigh. You shivered despite yourself. Fuck he was getting off on this, wasn’t he? You glanced up at his face, and Tojil looked ready to fuck your brains out.

“Mmm, good little bitch. Rock that mouth. You look like such a slut sucking on my handgun.”Toji hummed; his eyes never left your. His gaze flickered between your eyes, your lips and the drool running down your chin“God, your mouth is the best thing bout you, isn’t it? Can’t wait to have it on me.”

You flushed, your hand moved from your side to him. You wrapped your fingers around his cock through his sweatpants, the material loose enough for you to grasp him firmly. You could tell he wasn’t fully there yet but fuck he wasn’t soft either. You moaned; Toji bucked into your hand, and you twisted your wrist in time with his thrusts. Your breathing grew laboured, closer to his. He slapped your hand away from himself before he could cum in his pants like a teenager. “Not gonna ah happen.” he rasped, punching the wall beside your head to clear his mind.

You jumped, flinched off the gun, a string of saliva between you and the barrel. “You say that but...”

“ Take it back; I like you quiet,” Toji trailed off, readjusting the grip on the gun. His fingers of his other hand over the barrel of the gun gathered some saliva from the corner of your lips and rolled it between his thumb and finger. His eyes ran you up and down before he kicked your legs open. Those coated fingers went straight under your dress, rolling the damp digits over panties, then under in slow, steady circles right over your clit until you threw your head back, moaning. “Such a nasty slut, I own”

“Hmmm” you groaned, cracking an eye open as he pressed a kiss to your puffy lips, pushed his tongue it, swirled it in that breath-taking way that only Toji could. You broke the kiss first, panting pitifully. “L-lets go home, baby?”

“mmmpgh. Nasty sluts don’t need privacy.” Toji sneered; although he was smiling, his eyes still showed nothing but pure jealous fury. “You were gonna fuck that bastard in this very alley, no need to get shy now” He pulled his hand back, gripped the fabric of your panties, then tore them open. “Dumb sluts will fuck anything and everything, won’t they, Y/N?”

You gasped, whined shook your head; your eyes grew to the sizes of saucers as Toji grabbed your free hand and forced it around the momentarily forgotten gun. The hilt felt warm and clammy, sticky and much heavier than you imagined.

“T-toji What?” you gasped, shuddering as he trailed your finger over the trigger.

“Press here, bunny, and you’ll blow yourself a fourth hole, got it?” You didn’t manage to react as Toji lowered the gun between your legs and pushed it in.

“Toji!” You screamed, bucking away from the metal. His hand, with yours in it, followed your movement.

“Shh, shh shh like that doll, just like that” The gun pushed deeper into you, coming to a stop at the hilt. He leaned back and took a look at your, your petrified expression, the gun in your pussy and cursed. “That’s it, doll, Treat it like a small dildo, c’mon no need to look so scared, you’ve handled bigger.” His hand let you go and you almost dropped the gun, but Toji caught it and pushed it back into your hand.

“You drop it- you’ll shoot us both.” Toji growled, waited until you nodded before he removed his hand from the hilt. Your hand remained frozen, unmoving. Toji didn’t care. His fingers went straight back to your clit, rubbing quick circles on it until you arched your back and clenched, then lowered yourself, seeking release on the metal.

“Ahh y-you’re a monster Toji.” You twisted your face away from him. Toji chuckled and dropped his head on your shoulder, biting at the exposed flesh.

“ The worst one.” He agreed his fingers picked up speed, so did your hips. Your orgasm building, your pussy clenching around the gun, hand trembled. A little more, a little– “N-nnooah” you threw your head back; despite your protest, your pussy did the opposite, gushing around the gun. Gushing turned to squirting as Toji’s fingers kept going; his other hand dropped down to your hand and the gun and thrust it in and out of you.

You screamed, and dug your nails into his forearm, the only thing that kept you upright.

“Fucking nasty” Toji bit your earlobe until you listened. “ You think some random stranger can get you off like this? Match your freak, babydoll? Squirting on my loaded gun in your pussy.” Toji chuckled. “Will you start creaming if I take the safety off too?”

You mewed, then heard the harrowing click you hadn’t realized was on. Knowing it was off, however, was a completely different story. Your eyes widened, pleasure replaced by panic. He was still jealous? Still not done?!

Fuckfuckfuck.

“I get it, I am sorry Toji, Please, please forgive me!” you sobbed, your thighs shaking as much as your hand on his arm.

He was gonna kill you. He was gonna fuck you then kill you. Humiliate you, then pull that fucking trigger straight in your pussy.

FuckingFuckFucktown.

You didn’t want to die; you weren’t ready to die. And you most certainly didn’t want him to pull the trigger inside you. “I’ll do anything just.. Just give me another chance. Please baby, To-bear”

Toji hummed, his teeth left your skin and his head dropped on your shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Hmm you’re lucky I like you.” He whispered, waited, then twisted the gun a little inside you.

“I love you, I love you too Toji!” you squealed.

“ Good. Now then out of love here’s what we’re gonna do, doll” Toji pulled the gun out of your pussy, and stared at the slick dripping thing before he returned it to its holster on his hip. “We’re gonna walk back to m’car, take a trip, and you’ll show me just how sorry you are. And if this happens again-”

“ It won’t, I promise!” you stared up at Toji with earnest eyes, ready to beg and plead you case as many times as it took for him to go from this to the less manic usual.

Silence passed until he chuckled, took half a step back, and pulled you to his side. His arm around your shoulder and your face buried in his side, almost as if he tried to shield you from the corpse behind you. “That’s a good doll, don’ make me regret it, cuz if you do…”

Toji didn’t need to finish that sentence. He didn’t need to. You knew that if you disappointed him again you and the left-behind body would have a lot in common..

—

The last of the warm sun rays set and were replaced by barely-there moonlight before anything changed in the small behind-the-bar alley. The metal door to the significantly livelier bar creaked opened, and a pair of heel-clad feet stepped out and then shut the door behind them.

The owner of the feet stood still for a moment, sighed, and then moved closer to the chilled body. As she drew closer, she raised her shoe and kicked the man hard on the fancy dress shoe.

“Oj how long are you gonna waste time laying in the middle of the shitty alley?” A female voice carried through, shortly followed by the light of a cigarette. She made a few more steps, came to a stop in front of her face, and stared down at the man with a bullet wound in his head. She took a deep drag of her cigarette before she flickered some ash sight onto his chest “And what kind of cover name is ‘Tom’ anyway?”

“Hey, don’t disrespect the dead, Shoko,” ‘Tom’ cracked an eye open with a lazy grin. He stretched his limbs as though he had just taken a long nap before he slowly sat up, each bone and muscle groaning in protest from laying on the hard pavement god knows how long. Reaching up, he wiped the blood and gunk off his face onto the back of his fancy suit sleeve “- And what’s wrong with ‘Tom’ anyway?”

“ I’d respect you if you were actually dead. ‘Tom’ sounds like you’re over compensating for your lack of personality with a foreign name. ‘Toru would have worked just fine”, Shoko replied, ignoring his silent request to help pull him up. Satoru whined in response. “Now, let's go before someone actually calls the police on a ‘deadbody’. Last thing I need is to type up another death certificate for you-”

“-Please do! Then I catch a break from the higher-ups-”

Shoko kicked his leg, making sure to dive the heel into his thigh until he yelped and shut up. “-Shut it and lets go. Jesus, Toji is a horrid influence on your already awful personality.” Shoko grew tired of waiting for Satoru to pick himself off the ground and turned to leave, not waiting to see if he’d follow.

“ Aww, love you too Shoko, Owie, ow ow ow everything hurts.. huh-hey! Wait for me!”

Author note: Well this is my attempt at two things at once, Dark dark content and Mystery. Well what do you think? Why was Satoru under cover (Tom?) and was Toji really 'just jealous'?

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rebelfell · 1 year ago

Text

so right, it's wrong

continued from x

where its halloween and eddie feels guilty for hooking up with his best friend's ex...except are you still his ex? 18+, MDNI

“Stupid. This is stupid. This is so, so stupid.”

Eddie mutters to himself as he skulks up the driveway towards the front of Steve’s house. His costume was hot and itchy on his skin, the pants suddenly feeling too tight and his shirt and vest threatening to choke him despite their looseness on his frame. The fencing sword tied to his hip poked him with every step and his boots were more like cement blocks he was dragging to the threshold as he rang the bell.

The idea to dress as characters from The Princess Bride had been in the works for ages—ever since Steve heard about the contest KQRX was throwing, offering free concert tickets for a whole year as the prize. Originally, it was going to be all three of you, but that was before the break-up, before Tina’s party…before Eddie considered selling his soul for another night with you.

It felt wrong even going through with all this, considering how involved you’d been.

It was you who helped Eddie scour seemingly endless thrift shops for the perfect pieces of his outfit while he was pinching the inside of his arm to stop himself thinking about dragging you into one of the dressing rooms and kissing every inch of your body. And it was you who watched as he and Steve practiced their “sword fight” out by the Harrington’s pool—looking debilitatingly, unfairly, cute all wrapped up in a flannel, correcting Steve when he botched his lines and making Eddie’s cheeks blush by praising his delivery.

Steve was convinced there was still a pretty good chance of winning even with just the two of them, and Eddie didn’t have it in him to protest. He was still trying to figure out how he was going to look his friend in the eye after what happened.

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken since Friday night.

There had been tons of parties all weekend, as was typical when Halloween fell on a Tuesday. He probably could have found you if he had the balls to go out looking. He knew how keen you were to dress up at any and every opportunity, especially on your favorite holiday.

And he wanted to call you, he really did. He must have dialed all but the last digit of your number about a hundred times since that night.

It was driving Wayne up the wall.

“Boy, if you ain’t gonna dial that phone, stop gettin’ its hopes up. If you don’t leave it alone, I’m gon’ knock you upside the head with it.”

But if he did call, what was he supposed to say? Hey! Thanks for sucking out the very essence of my soul through my cock? How about I return the favor sometime? Sound good?

Yeah, sure. That would go over great.

So instead, he’d hidden in his room. He’d worked on campaigns for Hellfire in between his pacing in front of the phone. And instead of going to your friend Ella’s party Sunday night, knowing how likely it was you’d be there, he’d gone over to Gareth’s for a slasher movie marathon.

Nothing like senseless bloodshed and gore to kill a perpetual boner. Not that it did.

Even hours of b-tier horror couldn’t stop him from thinking about you. The whole night kept playing on a loop in his mind. The way you straddled his lap and moaned into his mouth as he grasped at your hips to grind you against him. The way your mouth fell open in a wanton gasp as he kissed his way down your neck. The way you slinked to the floor and released him from his boxers that were stretched to their absolute limit. The look in your eyes as you spoke, low and sultry.

“I know you want me, Eddie,” you’d cooed at him, teasingly kissing at his weeping, sensitive tip until his head was thrown back and his eyes rolled back into his skull. “Show me how much.”

“Is that seriously the best you could do, Munson? Come on!”

Steve’s voice rings out harshly the second he opens the door, jerking Eddie out of his trance.

He huffs at the sight of Eddie’s mustache, or rather lack thereof, placing his hands on cocked hips. He makes an annoyingly good Dread Pirate Roberts in a billowing black shirt with a deep v-neck that reveals a patch of his dense chest hair. His black pants are tight, showing off muscled thighs and he’s already got his mask wrapped around his head, his own sword in hand.

“Not all of us are part werewolf, Steven.” Eddie snipes as he stalks through the door and pushes past his friend, guilty eyes averting.

“Whatever, maybe we can fill it in or something. Oh, honey! Perfect timing!”

Honey?

Eddie’s head whips around to see you floating down the staircase, the swishing of your skirt around your legs halting as Steve holds out his hand and tugs you into him.

“Shit, babe, you look hot,” Steve says, planting a wet kiss on your cheek that made you smile and caused Eddie’s stomach to lurch.

“Hot” didn’t even begin to describe you tonight. You looked…like a princess.

There was no other word for it. His heart was hammering behind his rib cage as his eyes roved over you, eager to take in every detail he could. Your dress was almost exactly like the one from the movie and even with the big sleeves and a long, flowing skirt, it failed to conceal the shape of your body underneath. It hinted at the curves there, teasing Eddie with the memory of them. Was it really just a few days ago his hands had roamed so freely all over you? Had feasted on the dip of your waist and the fullness of your hips?

You peer at Eddie curiously, subtly stepping back from Steve as you’re tucking a piece of your long wig behind your ear. “You look nice,” you say.

“Except the obvious,” Steve sighs. “Can you do something about his mustache?”

“Yeah, sure,” you breathe, your eyes never leaving Eddie’s, your head tipping towards the bathroom. “Come in here where the light is better.”

With a gulp and a nod, he follows you while Steve heads for the kitchen to make another drink, and probably check his own reflection on the way.

Eddie is dead silent as he leans on the sink in the half-bath off the foyer. He clutches at the edge of the countertop, sweaty palms threatening to slip out from beneath him at any second. With any luck, maybe he’ll hit his head on the porcelain and the concussion will get him out of this.

You’re quiet too as you root around inside a small pouch filled with your make-up until you exhume a brown eyeliner pencil. You place your fingertips gently on his chin, holding his face steady as you color in his upper lip with short, soft strokes. The feather-light touch and the way your eyes focus so intently on him makes Eddie’s heart race and he feels certain you can see it’s about to beat straight out of his chest.

“You okay?” you whisper. “You’re shaking.”

Eddie nods, neck stiff and his body rigid with you standing so close to him. He swallows thickly, his throat clenching with the question he’s dreading. But he has to ask. He has to know.

“So, you guys are—are you, like…back together?”

“I don’t know yet,” you say, your voice small. “Maybe. We’ve been talking about it.”

“Since when?” he asks, and the sound comes out harsher than he meant. Your eyes flicker, the light from the sconce over the mirror shining in them.

“Sunday night. We ran into each other at Ella’s party.”

Fucking shit. Of course you did.

“I thought I might hear from you,” you add quietly. “Or maybe see you, but…”

You lick your lips, glancing away from him as you cap your eyeliner and tuck it back inside your bag. Your tongue wets the gloss you’re wearing and makes it look even shinier. Fuck, he wants to know how you taste tonight, what flavor it is that’s on your mouth.

“I…I…”

Eddie’s mind swims with all the words he wants to say, but they get snagged, unable to come out. Because what exactly is he supposed to say when all he can think about is pinning you against that door, hiking up your dress and filling your hot, slick core with his fingers or his tongue or his cock until you’re screaming his name loud enough for the entire town to hear?

Except that’s never gonna happen. Because he’s not Westley. He’s not the hero here. You’re not his heroine and you never will be. There’s no version of the movie that ends with Inigo and Buttercup riding off into the sunset together.

“It’s fine, Eddie. I get it,” you say softly. “We can forget it ever happened.”

Eddie sighs, the heft of his frustration punching it out of his chest. If that’s what you want, of course he’ll do it. He’s been pretending not to be in love with you for a long time already.

No sense breaking the streak now.

You lean around him to collect your bag from the sink and the smell of your perfume is like a punch straight to his gut. He takes one last deep breath of you as you zip your bag shut and reach for the knob on the door.

It creaks as you crack it open and you pause, chancing a glance back at him. "You really do look handsome," you tell him.

And then you leave. You head for the kitchen and go back to your boyfriend who's waiting for you. Back to the only version of this movie there is.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson stranger things

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jazziejax · 7 months ago

Text

PR & Matchmaking

Pairing- Callum Turner x OC! India Hayes

Summary- The flirtatious banter between two co-stars that are trying to make the most of their PR contract while also wondering if what they’re felling is real or not.

Warnings- none

Author’s Note- I haven’t written anything on here in so long so please be easy one me guys. I just wanted to post something because it’s been a while and I felt like Callum Turner needed more love.

Word Count- 2,131

Lights were flashing like crazy and the people were going wild as they walked onto the carpet. Tonight was the premiere of Masters of The Air, a drama miniseries on Apple TV that explores the aerial wars of WWII through enlisted men of the Mighty Eighth Air Force.

At first, the red carpet was filled with the men from the show, some posing for the perfect shot while others did interviews to talk about the show. Though all were dapper as the cameras clicked and flashed to capture their noticeable charm. One of the stars, Callum Turner, was in the middle of answering a question after being asked what was his biggest takeaway from a show like this.

“I mean, it’s taught me a lot. More than I knew it would, which is always great. Working with such amazing people has to be the greatest takeaway—.” The sound of his words were barely audible under the screams of the crowd. His face morphed into a shell of shock for only the briefest moment before he chuckled and turned his head to see what that commotion was about. His first assumption was that it was Austin and Barry offering tons of fanservice with their flirtatious banter.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He could hardly see through the flashing lights but he could discern one name through what the photographers were saying.

“India!”

“India, this way!”

Even though he wasn’t facing the camera fully, it still caught the smile that graced his lips at the sound of the woman's name. From another angle, you could see him looking down the carpet at the girl in black, staring at her figure as she posed.

Realizing he’s still on camera and was in the middle of talking, Callum chuckled as she turned back to his interviewer. “Speaking of amazing—.” He laughed along with the guy, gesturing to the woman down the carpet.

“Did you guys and the Angels of War cast get to do any work together? Can we expect to see a crossover?” The man asked before holding his mic out to Callum. Said man pursed his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t say, you have to watch the show and see.” He joked.

Moments later, India was being asked her own set of questions.

“We’ve all seen Angels of War, we all loved it. It was great. But I must know what you think of Masters of the Air.” The woman asked her.

India smiled, prepared for her words to soon come bite her in the ass. “I loved it, it was so amazing and so detailed that you couldn’t help but fall in love it.” India smiled, her southern accent strong on her tongue. “I felt so connected to the characters because of such great acting.” She offered a soft smile. “But it was hard payin’ attention in some scenes because everyone was so sexy.” She laughed along with interviewer.

“Right! I’m glad you said it before I did.” The woman with the mic spoke.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna watch anything with Callum Turner in it.” India winked with a small smirk on her lips. This caused the interviewer to make a sound of excitement, knowing she just got her clip of the week. India just smiled and laughed along, knowing she was working her PR arm a little too much. But she liked riling people up, it’s why she was so loved.

“I have to agree with you, I am the same way with Henry Cavil.” The woman chuckled. Her eyes moved a tad to catch a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in black behind India’s shoulder. “And speaking of Callum Turner.” She beamed.

India turned her torso to see said man not too far from them walking somewhere along the outskirts of the red carpet, a few people straggling behind him. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Callum glanced to his left to see India and the interviewer staring at him, the camera slightly angled his way. A large smile made its way onto his face as he walked closer.

“Callum!” India said excitedly, opening her arms in invitation. His eyes disappeared behind the folds on his cheeks as he moved to embrace the woman once he made it to her. She wrapped her arms his neck while his went to her waist. Her height and hills made it to where her head fit almost perfectly within the nook of his neck. As she moved back slightly to grab a hold of his jaw and place a firm kiss on his cheek, his hands traveled from her waist to her hips. His large hands almost sitting on top of her bottom. Since they weren’t as close to the mic as they were before, the camera couldn’t pick up on any of what was being said.

“Did you play it up before I got here?” India asked through a smile as she drug her hand from his face to his chest.

“Why yes I did, darling.” He beamed down at the girl. “And I can see you are trying to upstage me.” He said before starting to rub his hands up and down the curve of her back. The tips of his middle fingers grazing one another as they traversed the span of her waist. India then made a dramatic sad face, her large eyes never leaving his. “Oh, never that.” She cooed. “I am just trying to get us both paid.” She cheesed before turning around to finish her interview. Callum followed after her, keeping his hand around her waist.

“Sorry about that. Speak of the devil and he shall appear and all that.” India said sarcastically, nodding her head over to the man behind her. The interviewer laughed, looking between the two. “It’s so good to now have you here with us, Callum, how are you?” She asked.

“I’m doing far better now that I’ve seen her.” The man smirked, glancing down at the woman on his arm as his hand moved from her hip to lying flat on her stomach. . India dramatically rolled her eyes at him, moving to place her hand on top of his. “He’s so cheesy.” She said.

“Only for the right price.” His voice said above her head. India burst into a fit of chuckles, angling her head to look up at the man without turning around. They shared a knowing look before going back to looking at the interviewer, who was red in the face from just watching their interactions.

“Well aren’t you two quite the pair!” She exclaimed. “Are we going to be seeing your characters together any time soon? I think it’s time for Loretta to settle down.” She asked before holding out the mic.

“Well, first off, Loretta needs no man!” India said, sassily waving her finger, causing the others to chuckle. “She probably would have liked one in a time such as then but needed one? No thank you.” She joked, although her words had a seemingly undertone due to the topic of her statement. “And secondly, you’ll just have to wait and see. I wouldn’t get my hopes up though.” She shrugged.

“Well, those are all the question I had for you, thank you two so much for being here!” She said excitedly.

“No, thank you for having us.” India said before giving the woman a small hug, Callum’s hand moving to her waist as she moved. She then finished her hug and walked away with Callum on her hip.

“Do you think we’re laying it on thick?” India asked, looking up at him. Callum looked down at her, the lights reflecting of her big eyes. She had a black silk scarf on her head on the carpet, but it was no gone, along with her shades, to show her short cut. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, playing with the small hairs there. “No, I don’t think so.” He said, his suave demeanor dropping in a second of comfortability with her. “And if so, isn’t that kind of the point?” India didn’t answer his rhetorical question, caught up in the feeling of his hands playing in her short hair.

“We have the same haircut.” She said after a moment of silence, the two just staring at each other. Callum’s blue eyes twinkled in the light as he smiled at her. “Yeah, we do.”

“Although I think mines a little better, maybe I can give you my barbers number?” He finished before walking away from her. India’s mouth dropped but wasn’t for long as she caught up to his long legs and hit him in the arms. “I cannot believe you said that. You know I look way better than you with his haircut.” She sassed, rolling her eyes at the man before walking faster than him. Callum smiled his eyes following her figure as she walked back to the red carpet, where her life long friend, Janelle, was gesturing her over on the carpet with the rest of the Angels of War cast.

India scurried over, her and Janelle standing in the middle with the other girls on the side, all posing for the camera. Callum stood off on the side, looking at them while the lights flashed behind him. His eyes were trained on India as she and Janelle exchanged words before bubbling into laughter.

After a while longer, India looked over and made eye contact with him. They both immediately smiled at each other, eyes showing nothing but pure affection. She then detached one of her arms from Janelle and beckoned him over. Callum slightly shook his head. Seeing his hesitation, her face became serious as she beckoned him over again, although her movements were a little harsher this time. He was about to reject the offer again before his shoulder jerked forward slightly. His glanced back to his Austin gesture his head over to the carpet before walking off and over to his girlfriend Janelle, although no one else knew that piece of information.

He followed after him, his eyes locked on India playfully stern ones, the rest Masters of the Air cast following behind him and Austin. Once he made it to her, her eyes softened as he slipped behind her. While they waited for everyone to settle into their places, she smiled up at him before leaning back a little, her back met his torso. Her head laid on his chest as she looked up at him with a big fake smile. Callum looked down at her, staring into the eyes he thought looked beautiful from any angle. Trapped within her gaze, he leaned down a little, the tip of his large nose brushing against her forehead as he sniffed her. India crunched her eyebrows at him before raising her head to look back at the cameras. She still had her back against him, although you couldn’t tell unless you got a side angle.

“Enough of your flirting.” Austin piped up behind his smile as he glanced over at the pair dressed in all black.

“What, are we outshining the real couple?” Callum asked, smirking over at his friend.

“Outshine?” Austin asked. “Oh, you don’t even wanna know the things I’d do if we were public.” He finished, his grip tightening on Janelle’s waist as he continued to pose for the pictures. Said woman’s face flushed as she laughed and glanced up at him. They looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before going back to their original poses.

“This whole thing is so backwards.” India scoffed with a smirk on her face as the camera flicked to catch the moment between Austin and Janelle. Callum looked down at her and placed his hand on her hip, squeezing her fat as he sensed she was getting irritated. “Oh, but you love it.” He said joked, his deep voice vibrating through the both of them. Although she didn’t look up at him, India smiled at his words. “Yeah…you got me there.” She said, but couldn’t decide whether she was serious or not.

Social media went into a complete frenzy over those two. Clips of their cute moments floating all around the internet, some “fake”, you could say and others more authentic. Stills of Callum staring at India so lovingly were all over her feed, almost sending their girl into a spiral from seeing her own face that much. Compilations of every time they interacted during the premiere had millions of views as everyone speculated what they were. People were talking about the pair for weeks, which is just what their management wanted.

Indiahayes ✓⃝

likes by austinbutler, keoghan92, and 567,842 others

indiahayes happy masters of the air day!! go watch the show full of sexy men that kiss! ;)

view 7,627 comments

janellethat no one kissed guys :(

⤷ Indiahayes hush, don’t spoil the show!

callumsnumber1gurl let’s talk about these premiere photos hun!

callumturnerburner you and Callum look soo good together!!

⤷ austinbutlerbutt you are not sneaky at all

austinbutler Angels of War sister! 🤍

⤷ Indiahayes Masters of the Air brother!🖤

anthonyboyle why are you and Nina on the furniture?

⤷ ninasimone because we’re American 🇺🇸 🦅

randosuper3 it’s times like this where I wish Callum had an instagram 😔

lovelyrando you and Callum looked amazing together and I hope what you guys have lasts long

auatinslove are we just not going to talk about Janelle and Austin? What’s going on there???

⤷ indiassuperfan7 adults being adults

#callum turner x reader #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner #callum turner x black reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x black reader #social media au #x black reader #x black fem reader #jazziejaxwriting

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endless-weightless · 1 year ago

Text

Nameless Ghoul NSFW headcanons

Got Ghost tickets and now I’m gonna be autistic about this band. Also kinda on the shorter side because I’m SO BUSY rn but the autism will pull me through 💪

CHARACTERS: Swiss, Rain, Sodo, Aether, Mountain, Phantom, Omega, Ifrit

TAGS: Smut, reader insert, BDSM, monsterfucking?, afab and amab!reader, lingerie, marking, switch!reader I guess?, switch!Swiss, soft dom!Mountain, mean dom!Omega

🌙Swiss

Kinky. We know this. He’s willing to try just about anything you’re comfortable with.

His personal favourite kinky things include bondage, spanking, gags, some dynamic play, marking and a sprinkle of dacryphilia.

He’s such a power switch and I will not listen to anyone who disagrees. Sometimes he wants to dick you down and sometimes he wants to be dicked down. Is that too much to ask for?

REALLY FUCKING LOUD. If you’re making him feel good he’s letting everyone know.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck~ baby if you don’t slow down I’ll cum- fuck!”

Has absolutely no shame walking around covered in hickeys, bite marks and scratches.

Swiss gets unbelievably horny when you touch his horns, like something in him snaps when you touch them.

Prefers cumming on you rather than inside you, like you’re a canvas and he’s the painter.

Don’t bully him he’ll cum :(

Nah but seriously, if you call him a slut at least once and pull his hair he’ll absolutely melt.

🌙Rain

Pretty vanilla compared to Swiss, but has his kinky moments.

Prefers sex to be romantic, so expect lots of kisses and hand holding.

Speaking of hand holding, he squeezes your hand when he cums. He just loves you so much and you’re making him feel so good.

Has cried on one or more occasions. It could be because he’s so in love or maybe because he just has a really sensitive cock-

Absolutely adores fucking in the shower or even outside in the rain. He loves it when you two are both in tune with his element and it just makes him feel safe being in water.

Doesn’t let out pornographic moans but rather soft gasps and grunts and if you’re really fucking him good then he’ll start whimpering the closer he gets to cumming.

Speaking of cum, he loves cumming in you and just having you cockwarm him (or the other way around). He also moans an “I love you” when he does so.

“I love you so much darling- oh satan.”

Always looks so goddamn pretty when he’s all fucked out and exhausted.

🌙Mountain

My fav ghoul 💜

Gives me soft dom vibes, but not crazy on kink or bdsm.

He’s fucking huge and uses it to his advantage.

Likes watching you squirm when taking him. The bastard will just watch you struggle as you try to fit all of his length in you while he just sits there doing fuck all.

Loves watching you ride him. If you have tits he’s automatically hypnotised by then jiggling as you bounce on his cock.

If you get too tired or overstimulated to keep riding him he’ll instantly flip you over so he’s on top of you and he’ll just pound into you at whatever pace you need.

Mostly grunts when you two are fucking, but he isn’t shy about moaning in your ear when he cums.

So much praise. Like a fuck ton of it.

“Look at you, taking me so well. You’re doing such a good job.

If you’re ever stressed he’ll instantly suggest a solution that involves his face buried between your thighs for the next hour or so.

Endless cuddles when you two are finished. He’ll have you wrapped in his arms until you’ve fallen asleep.

🌙Omega

Good LORD those fingers.

Mean dom. So mean :( (but very rewarding when he thinks you’ve been on your best behaviour)

I reckon he’s pretty well versed in the bdsm and kink world. Maybe even to the point where bdsm is part of his actual lifestyle outside of sex.

Fucks you absolutely silly and then mocks you when you’re too overstimulated to say a full coherent sentence.

If he’s feeling too lazy to actually fuck you or he’s busy he’ll beckon you over to him and have you sit on his lap while he fingers you into oblivion or jacks you off until you’re shooting blanks.

Goes feral when you moan his name, or just say anything along the lines of you belonging to him.

Cums where he wants, as long as you’re comfortable with it.

Not incredibly loud unless you’re sucking him off, then he’s getting a little slutty because he knows how turned on it gets you.

“Oh yeah~ use your tongue just like that darling. Fuck .”

He LOVES bending you over and pounding into you until you’re crying. He’ll even give your ass the occasional slap and moan an “atta girl/boy”.

🌙Sodo

Every time you moan his full name “Sodomiser” he instantly starts panting like a fucking dog.

Gets progressively hornier the more you feed his ego.

Likes nipping at your neck and wrapping his tail around your thigh when you’re fucking.

He tries stay quiet but ultimately ends up a whimpering mess when he cums. He doesn’t even have to be subbing, he just kinda whimpers regardless 🤷‍♀️

I feel like if you were about to suck him off he’d lightly slap you in the face with his dick because he thinks it’s hot 😭

Let you use a vibrator on him one time and he came so hard he was scared to let you use it on him again. He uses it on himself occasionally though.

“Nonono wait don’t turn it up I’ll- ngh~”

Like Swiss he loves cumming on you, bonus points if it’s your chest, ass or face.

One time you pulled his tail during sex and he let out such a load and sinful moan you had to pause before going back to fucking and then teasing him because of it.

🌙Aether

He’s hot and he knows it, the cheeky bastard.

Likes it when you caress his muscles. Fair enough though, if I was that buff I’d want everyone to touch my big strong biceps-

He loves just randomly picking you up and manhandling you.

If you’re a pillow princess or prince you’re in luck because he’ll do all of the work as long as he gets to hear you whimper his name and look at your pretty face.

His favourite thing to do is to buy you lingerie and the rip it off hours later. Sometimes if he’s feeling a bit silly n goofy he’ll buy it one or two sizes too small so he gets to see your tits and/or ass spill out.

Prefers cumming in you but doesn’t mind, as long as you’re satisfied.

Can and will fuck you standing up and it’s very scary because WHO THE FUCK HAS SEX STANDING-

He’s mostly quiet, but still very verbal if that makes sense. He moans a lil and also lets out these like sighs? Idk how to explain it but just know he’s enjoying himself 😭.

“Mm you look so- fuck, good like this.”

🌙Phantom

He’s like a very excited puppy when it comes to sex. Probably would be into puppy play too tbh.

Very easy to overstimulate. Just go for a second or third round with some edging thrown in and he’s putty in your hands.

He whines, moans, whimpers, cries, you name it.

“Please, I’ll be good, I just need to cum, please.”

Doesn’t understand his size or strength sometimes. You couldn’t convince him he had a massive dick until one time when you were riding him you put his hand to your stomach where he could literally feel himself moving inside you.

Doesn’t mind whatsoever where he has to cum, just as long as he actually gets to.

He has the most sensitive tail and horns ever it’s not even funny. He could probably cum untouched if you played with them enough.

Bites a fucking lot, like damn boy calm down.

Needs praise or he might go a little coocoo.

🌙Ifrit

This man is a SWITCH WITH A BREEDING KINK.

So obviously he loves cumming in you.

Gets so unbelievably worked up when he smells you.

Likes fucking you while your in his lap, like something similar to the lotus. He needs to be close to you.

(Afab hc) for some reason he can tell when you’re ovulating and it just sends him spiralling. He’s practically on his knees rutting into the floor and begging you to let him fuck you.

This when he gets the most vocal.

“Please let me fuck a baby into you. Mm~ I’ll do anything”

Bites hard. Like it’s a problem.

(Half afab) Insists on carrying you everywhere once you two are finished. His reasoning is because he might’ve hurt your silly little human body with his massive ghoul dick (his words not mine) and because you might be pregnant!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That's all, thanks for reading my lovelies!

#x reader #the band ghost #sodomizer #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #omega ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #sodo x reader #mountain x reader #aether x reader #omega x reader #rain x reader #swiss x reader #phantom x reader #ifrit ghoul #ifrit x reader

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maddogofshimano · 1 year ago

Text

The Boss’s Date Coaching

oh baby it's another Goromi event! this one's a board game with Nishida as our protagonist

the board music was Receive You the Madtype

I thought it was kind of funny that they were squeezing another Goromi event in when her character story and past event already covered............. basically every single moment available in YK1! but that's okay.

because this one doesn't take place in YK1

as a brief aside on pronouns, I’m sticking with she/her for any references to Goromi. the term for boss Nishida uses for her, 親父, is explicitly masculine in the same way that patriarch in english is, but I’m not factoring that in for this translation

I will put a content warning that there's a brief attempted sexual assault in this, it's only a few lines and is resolved very quickly but it is there

summary: It is 2006. Goromi is waiting for Kiryu to arrive at SHINE to help out a hostess so she can (once again) surprise him. Nishida has a date coming up, and in her boredom Goromi decides she'll teach him the secrets of a woman's heart.

[2006] [After Kiryu Kazuma was released from prison….] (Tl note: the first time I completely blew past the fact that this said 2006 and not 2005. But I guess 2006 is technically after Kiryu was released from prison, so.) Goromi: ……Kiryu-chan, you're takin' so long~.

Goromi: Nishida! Are ya absolutely sure ya actually emailed him?

Nishida: Y-Yes! I'm positive I did...

Goromi: Then why ain't he come here? Nishida: Kiryu-san is… a really busy person, so… he must have gotten himself caught up in something…. (tl note: Nishida refers to Kiryu as Kiryu no ojiki, which is literally your uncle who is younger than your dad, and in yakuza terms usually means a patriarch less senior than your own. I'm going with -san for simplicity of showing he's being deferential)

Goromi: ……..Well, a burly guy like Kiryu-chan probably gets tons of invites. Goromi: But I got all this time to kill~. …Nishida, ain't there just nothin' interesting? Nishida: I-I guess so… Goromi: Kaaa~… When there's a girl this cute with nothin' to do, ya oughta be helpin' her kill some time! <phone buzzes> Nishida: …! (tl note: this is literally the first time Nishida has looked not extremely worried)

Goromi: Oh! Is it from Kiryu-chan!?

Nishida: N… No, it wasn't. Goromi: What the hell. Who's it from? Nishida: Umm… well… Goromi: …You're stallin'. Give it here! Nishida: Ah… Goromi: …"I had a lot of fun on our date on Saturday, Rina"… This is… Nishida, did'ya get yourself a girlfriend? (Tl note: it's not……….. it's not YK1 SHINE hostess and known lesbian Rina, right? it's a different Rina……. right???) Nishida: No, it's not that serious…! We just met when I went to a group-dating event the other day… Nishida: Then we emailed a little… and she ended up asking me out on a date… Goromi: Ohh~… Seems like she's into ya. What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her? Nishida: Umm… here's a picture from the group dating. Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along… I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating…

Goromi: ……… Nishida: …Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo? Goromi: …Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya. Nishida: …Y-Yeah, I think so too. I'm not even sure why she ended up contacting me at all… Goromi: ….I got it! This situation calls for me to step in and help ya, yeah? (Tl note: Goromi is using "washi" as her personal pronoun here, which is what Majima usually uses when he's speaking as a boss, or "ore". Goromi usually goes with "watashi" but does use "ore" when Kiryu catches her off-guard) Nishida: Eh? Goromi: To make sure yer date goes well, I'm gonna teach ya all about a woman's heart! Nishida: Eh… Goromi: And I've got tooons of free time right now… aren't ya lucky~! Goromi: Hang tight! This is gonna be "the heart of a woman: lesson 1"! <Goromi leaves, presumably to make slides or get props or something> Nishida: I-……… I have a bad feeling about this… Nishida: I think my boss is just… doing something absurd to me to kill time while waiting for Kiryu-san to show up… (Tl note: lol this time it was actually -san. just gotta be EXTRA formal talking about Kiryu around Goromi, I guess) Nishida: No… it's bad to assume. It's possible that my boss might honestly be trying to help me… Nishida: …She said this was lesson one on a woman's heart… How many lessons is she planning? <scene transition to later> Goromi: …I've come~! And I've brought pleeenty of booze~! (Tl note: Goromi says お・ま・た～！ which I presume is a shortening of お待たせしました as in "sorry to have kept you waiting" but omata on its own is uh. it's vulva. it's vulva and that sort of crotch area. hence my translation of trying to get some kind of weird double entendre there) <sound of a cork popping> Nishida: Wh-Why are you filling that tower of glasses with alcohol… Goromi: I thought I'd show ya how to drink. I brought a buncha different kinds. Goromi: Sake, shochu, wine, whiskey, cocktails, plum brandy, beer, take your pick! Go on, drink whatever ya want! Nishida: A-Alright… Nishida: (…Boss… did say she was going to teach me about the hearts of women… so does that mean this is a test?) Nishida: (In that case… a cocktail is probably bad… that's something a girl would pick, I think…) (tl note: NISHIDA NO DON'T LOSE TO THE TOXIC MASCULINITY) Nishida: …Boss. I'd like a whiskey and cola to drink, please. Goromi: Ohh… Whiskey, huh…? Nishida: Well then… cheers. Nishida: (The way I drink will probably also be judged… the manly way to do it is in one shot…)

<horrible gulping sounds and the glass hitting the table> Nishida: …Thank you! Goromi: Oooh, yer a big drinker, huh? Goromi: Although… did ya notice anythin' strange? Nishida: Eh? Something strange…? Now that you mention it, the taste was a little bit peculiar… <stomach noise> Nishida: My… my stomach's… Wh-What did you put in that, boss!? Goromi: Dumbass! You were so complacent ya didn't even realize that thing was fulla laxatives! Nishida: L-Laxatives!? Why did you.. guhh… Goromi: And now ya know lesson one of how women's hearts work: "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!" Goromi: If you're a man, ya gotta be cautious of anythin' that gets served to ya, cause ya could get poisoned!

Nishida: Th-That's… unreasonable… Nishida: (…I think my worries were correct… She's just using me for amusement to kill some time…) <stomach gurgling> Nishida: Ughhh… S-Sorry… gotta… bathroom… Goromi: …No can do. If ya wanna go to the bathroom, ya gotta beat up that guy. Nishida: …Eh? <footsteps> Beefy Majima Family Member: …Sorry, Nishida no aniki. Boss says I gotta.

Nishida: Y-You… Goromi: Now, after poisonin' ya, this ruffian's here to snatch your pretty girlfriend! Goromi: Nishda! Endure that stomach ache 'n win! Show Goromi-chan somethin' good! Nishida: Ughuugh… Y-Yes… boss!!!! Beefy Majima Family Member: Well… I hope you'll forgive me, Nishida no aniki. (Tl note: I did shorten that name to "beefy member" and then reconsidered)

<fight happens> <sounds of a toilet flushing> Nishida: Haa… Haa… Just in the nick of time… Goromi: Heh, ya gotta a lotta willpower to avoid havin' an accident like that, huh? Here, drink this so ya don't get dehydrated. Nishida: Ah, some water? Thank you, Boss. <drinking sounds> Nishida: …What the… it's a little bitter…? Boss, what's up with this water-- <Nishida hits the ground> Goromi: Dumbass! I just told ya, don't make it so easy to slip ya sleepin' pills like that! Goromi: …When ya wake up, I'm gonna train ya until ya can identify every kind of poison by taste. Buckle up, buttercup. Nishida: Uugh… uughhh… that's……. impossibleee…. <END PART 1>

[While waiting on Kiryu to finally arrive, Goromi learns of an upcoming date and uses her free time to instruct Nishida on the matters of a woman's heart.] [After drinking poisoned booze, Nishida has learned lesson number one, "girls don't want guys who are easily poisoned".]

Nishida: (Boss… She told me to wait outside for the next lesson on a woman's heart…)

Nishida: (This lesson comes after poisoning… What sort of terrifying part of the female psyche is she going to teach…) Goromi: I've come~ 🎶 (Tl note: yeah. yeah it's the same one. yeah) Nishida: Ah, boss. What's the next lesson going to… be? <Goromi appears with a whole army of goons> Goromi: A woman's heart: lesson 2! "Obviously I like strong men 🎶"! (Tl note: this is probably the same line she says to Kiryu about her type of man, but I'm too lazy to double check OR look up what she exactly said in english)

Goromi: A man's not a real man at all if he ain't tough! Now you're gonna tussle with these guys! Goromi: Smash up these ten opponents, and show a gal what she likes to see in a man! Nishida: No… this is… just the boss's pastime… Nishida: She said this was about a woman's heart… but this is more like training in a battle manga… Goromi: Let's get it rollin'! Get it done nice 'n quick! Goromi: Oi, everyone! No goin' easy just cause it's 10 on 1, I want everyone goin' all out against Nishida! Majima Family Members: Roarrrrrrrr!!!! Nishida: ….Crap… Guess there's no avoiding it…! Nishida: Haa… Haa… (tl note: THIS WASN'T THE OBLIGATORY FIGHT? I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE FIGHT IS THERE ANOTHER??)

<a goon slides in> Nishida: !?

<Nishida gets smacked> Nishida: Guh…! <A new goon slides in> Majima Family Member A: Haa! Nishida: Crap! <Nishida steps away> Nishida: Haa… Haa… Nishida: (When there's this many opponents… while you're busy with one guy, another will circle around behind you…) Nishida: (They're not that strong if I can take them on one by one, but I can't fight them properly when they're in my blind spots…) Nishida: (What the hell do I do…) Nishida: …..! That's it….! Goromi: …Seems like ya figured it out. Goromi: Everyone! What're ya standin' around for! Go beat the shit outta Nishida! Majima Family Member A: Y-Yes! <scene change> Nishida: Yes… right here…

Majima Member A: Oi! It's too cramped to go together! Majima Member B: Shit… this is… too narrow! Nishida: (Yes… This narrow alleyway forces them to come down it one at a time…) Nishida: (Since I don't have to keep watching my back, this negates their numbers advantage in close quarters.) Nishida: …What's wrong, come at me! Otherwise it'll be the boss that's hitting you! Nishida: …Time to go…! Nishida no aniki! Please don't hold this against me!

Majima Member D: Gahh…

Nishida: Haa… Haa… Somehow… I won… Goromi: Ya did it, Nishida! Now ya don't gotta be worried when ya get jumped by a buncha thugs!

Nishida: Um… I think I will still be worried… Goromi: Well, if they really wanted ya dead they woulda done ya in the first time you stumbled… Goromi: Eh, we'll call it good enough this time. Ya passed lesson 2 of a woman's heart, "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" ! Nishida: Th-Thank you very much… Goromi: Now, this will be the final thing I can teach you about a woman's heart… A woman's heart: lesson 3… Are ya ready? Nishida: Y…..Yes. Nishida: (Next is the final one, huh…) Nishida: (I figured that if she's just doing this to kill time, she'd get tired of these sorts of antics… but this is faster than I thought.) Nishida: (But I can't let my guard down. Lessons 1 and 2 were seriously absurd… What on earth will lesson 3 be?) <music changes to the more emotional soft track> Goromi: A question for ya. Right now… what do ya think Goromi-chan wants? (Tl note: I misread it as "what do you think of Goromi-chan" at first and was like, so scared to continue. I was shook by the possibility of Goromi emotional vulnerability momence)

Nishida: …Eh? Goromi: What's wrong? Answer already. I wanna know whatcha think I'm after. Nishida: Eh… Well… Nishida: (What do I say… The number one thing my boss would probably want is to fight with Kiryu-san.) Nishida: (But, that would be way too easy for this quiz… what the hell… what is it…) Goromi: …Figured out your answer? Nishida: ……….. Nishida: ……Sorry, I don't know. Nishida: I thought getting to fight Kiryu-san would be it, but… I'm not confident enough in that to commit to it. Goromi: …Ya got it. "I dunno" is the right answer. Nishida: Eh? Goromi: The final lesson on women's hearts: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her".

Goromi: Every woman has her own circumstances. Goromi: A woman who loves sweets can still have days where she wants something spicy, and there are women who will claim to hate what they actually like. (Tl note: .............................................................................hey when this is in direct response to Goromi's number one desire being a fight with Kiryu. there's. hmm.) Goromi: So, don't look at just one aspect of a woman and think ya know everything about her, okay? Goromi: Women are deeply complex, living beings, despite what men think. ...Got it? Nishida: Y-Yes...! I will take your words to heart! Goromi: ...Alright, good. I taught ya about the female psyche, so make good use of it on your date. Nishida: Y... Yes! Goromi: Well then, time to head back to the club. I got a feelin' that Kiryu-chan might be there soon.

<she leaves> Nishida: While the other two were obviously farces... it feels like that last one was surprisingly genuine. Nishida: Guess it makes sense, after she got tired of doing the absurd. But, that doesn't seem quite right... hmmm... Nishida: Still, something to make use of on my date... Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her" is good to keep in mind... Nishida: But "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!" and "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" are-- Nishida: Maybe not as helpful... <END PART 2>

[I'm skipping the recap lol but today's the day of the date] Rina: Hehe, I thought the same thing during the group date, but talking to you is really easy, Nishida-san...

Rina: I was really nervous to ask you out, but I'm glad I gathered up the courage 🎶 Nishida: Oh, nah... I was worried we wouldn't be that good of a fit, too. Nishida: ........ Rina: ...? What's going on? You keep looking around the perimeter. Do you have a friend here? Nishida: Ah, no... it's nothing. Sorry, it's just nerves. Rina: Ah, no worries then! Really, I thought it was cute, you looked like a baby animal. Nishida: C-Cute...? Is that so... Nishida: (I can't tell her that I'm traumatized from my boss's training, and that I'm looking for a good spot to fight a pack of thugs...) Nishida: (Or that I'm being cautious about drinking the water brought to me in case it's been poisoned...) Nishida: (The boss's lessons on a woman's heart... my body sure remembers them, huh... ha...) Rina: Ah, that's right! Listen to this! I'm not making this up, the other day at the park, I saw a squirrel-- (Tl note: I thought that was just, the end of her sentence at first. she's just REALLY excited about squirrels) <scene transition to outside> Rina: Nishida-san, your recommendation of restaurant was delicious! I'm definitely bringing all my friends there 🎶

Nishida: I'm glad. I like going there because it's fairly cheap while still being delicious. Rina: Cheap and delicious restaurants are the best. I feel like it being cheap makes it taste even better, you know? Nishida: Ah, I get you! It's really a question of mood. This restaurant here is also good. There's this pork fried with ginger and grated daikon on top-- Rina: Hehe, you sure know your eateries Nishida-san. I'll have to rely on you next time I can't decide where to go eat~. Rina: ................So...... What are you doing after this? (tl note: NISHIDA SCORES?) Nishida: Eh? Umm... What am I doing. Maybe... getting drinks? Rina: ...Could we go somewhere to rest a bit? There's a place where we can talk slow and relaxed. (tl note: NISHIDA GETS SCAMMED?) Nishida: Eh? Somewhere to rest and relax? That's... Rina: Hehe... You'll have fun if you go. Come on. <another scene transition> Nishida: This is... the place?

Nishida: (BAR, huh... The hallway to the bathroom would be good to use if I'm outnumbered...) (Tl note: yeah the bar is named. BAR. in english. which is just great for translating) Nishida: (I'm still hung up on my boss's training, it really messed me up... I'm not the protagonist of a battle manga...) Rina: What do you think? I find it very relaxing, and since it's a hole-in-the-wall kind of place there's not crowded so you can really take your time and talk. (Tl note: very funnily hole-in-the-wall is fairly direct, the jpn being 穴場 or "hole place") Nishida: Ahh, you're right, this is a very relaxing place. Rina: Yeah. ...Hmm? Nishida-san, did you perhaps think it was something naughty? (tl note: well I sure did) Nishida: N-No... I-It's nothing like that...! Rina: Hehe, no need to panic. I just said it to make you conscious of it 🎶 (Tl note: struggling with the second sentence here, it's ふふっ、慌てなくてもいいですよ。ちょっと意識させようと思って言いましたし🎶) Nishida: Eh...? Muscular Bartender: ...Are you ready to order?

Rina: For me, a kahlua milk! Nishida: Umm... How about... Barley shochu. (Tl note: 麦の水割り, which probably has a better word for it but that's my best guess) Bartender: ...Alright. Here's your kahlua milk and barley shochu. Rina: Well then, kanpaiii 🎶 Nishida: Ahh, kanpai! (Tl note: Nishida why do you say kanpai in full kanji you fucking dweeb) Nishida: (I keep thinking my boss might emerge from beneath the bar, so I'm worried about this drink being poisoned...) Nishida: (There's no way it's actually poisoned... though... hmm... there's a bitterness...) Rina: ...? Is something wrong, Nishida-san? Nishida: No... it's just, this tastes like the sleeping pills my boss made me take... Bartender: ....! Nishida: Yep... My boss made me take sleeping pills over and over, and this... tastes exactly like those sleeping pills. I don't know why it would be sleeping pills... Rina: IIII have no idea why that would be. Right, bartender? Bartender: ...Sir, we are an upstanding business. We don't take false accusations lightly. Nishida: Ah, no, I didn't even say you put them in there... Nishida: But someone could have put them in there to cause trouble for you, so the police should check the other drinks to be sure Bartender: ....Tch. Oi. <a bunch of thugs jump out> Nishida: !? Bartender: You all, this guy's making up lies about us. Shake him down for some apology money to make up for it. Nishida: No, I'm not accusing you of anything. All I'm saying is a quick confirmation-- Bartender: You all! Get him! Nishida: (They aren't listening... I'm getting the feeling that the sleeping pills weren't in there on accident.) Nishida: (I'm up against 4 opponents. If they surround me I'm done for..... that's it! I just need time.) Nishida: Rina-san! Hide in the bathroom! Rina: Uh... r-right! Bartender: Wait! Do you really want to hide somewhere with no exit? Bartender: ...What's the point...? Is he going to bunker down in the hallway... Nishida: I know there's no way out of this... Only Rina-san will be hiding. Nishida: (This narrow corridor in front of the bathroom, it'll force them to come one at a time. This is my only way to win.) Bartender: ...Heh... You went through all that trouble to run, only to go for a narrow hallway with no way out.

Bartender: You'll regret ever speaking a single false word about my drinks!!!!

Bartender: S-... stupid...

<he hits the ground> Nishida: Haa... Haa... That was close. Nishida: If I didn't make use of those tight quarters, I would have been a goner as soon as they got behind me. Nishida: All thanks to that training my boss gave me on fighting multiple opponents... Nishida: And the fact that I had to drink sleeping pilsl and laxatives so I'd know what they tasted like... that ended up being useful too. <the door opens> Rina: N-Nishida-san... are you okay? ...Eh!? You... beat all of them? Nishida: Yeah... somehow, I managed it. I think we should get out of here before they wake up. Rina: Umm, no... I'm... Nishida: ....? What's wrong? Rina: I-It's... it's nothing... L-Let's go. <back outside> Rina: ...Yeah, I had no idea it was that kind of establishment. I really never thought they would attack you and try to take your money...

Nishida: ...Hey, Rina-san. Earlier, why did you want to stay in the bar? Rina: Eh... th-that's... well... Nishida: ......... Nishida: ............If... If you're... an accomplice to that bar, it would be a good idea to stop doing that. Nishida: If you keep it up... I think you'll end up in a really bad situation some day. Rina: .....That's my choice, isn't it? Nishida: Eh...? Rina: ...Don't start talking like you're my boyfriend after one date! All you are to me is a source of revenue! Nishida: R-...Rina-san? Rina: It was me, I'm working with that bar, I took you there specifically to fuck you over! So? Happy now!? Rina: And now you've ceased to be useful to me. ...Never contact me again. <she leaves> Nishida: R-Rina-san... Nishida: ...I thought she was nice girl, too... Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", huh. It's exactly like my boss said. Nishida: Boss... There's no way you expected all of this to happen, right...? Nishida: Rina-san went back to the store. I wonder... does she plan on doing the same thing again? Nishida: ............. <END PART 3>

Bartender: Shit... What's with that helmet bastard.... (Tl note: this is when I realized this was for real in 2006 and not a typo or a timeline mistake. which also means that Goromi hostess dates with Kiryu were a recurrent thing)

<Rina enters> Rina: .................. Bartender: So you're back... Why the fuck did you bring such a huge pain in the ass here? Rina: ......I already told you, this is was the last time. I'm done. Erase the photo of Keiko from your phone. (Tl note: name is 恵子 which has multiple readings) Bartender: What was that? Rina: The nude photo you took of Keiko and blackmailed me with! You said you'd erase it if I brought 10 people here! Bartender: Ain't happening. I didn't get any cash from that last one. You gotta do it again. Rina: That's bullshit! You all messed up, not me! Rina: If you try to make me do any more I'm going to the police, so hurry up and delete the photo already! Bartender: You really want your bestie's nude erased, huh. If so... going to the cops is going to be a problem. Bartender: So... <another goon slides in> Rina: !?

Bartender: I'll just have to get a photo of you next, so that doesn't happen. <goon grabs her> Rina: L-Let go...! Bartender: Just some nudity won't be enough for opposing me. We'll make an extra hard video... heheh. Rina: N-.... No-- <the door slams open> Bartender: !? <a punch lands> Strong looking man: Guh...

<he hits the floor> Nishida: ...I heard what you said. Rina-san, you did this all to help your friend.

Rina: N-Nishida-san... Why did you come here? Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", that's what my boss taught me. Nishida: It was a really horrible feeling, when I thought I had been betrayed by a girl who seemed nice and kind. Rina: ........ Nishida: But, at the same time I had another thought. Fucking me over was just one aspect of you. Nishida: So I came here to see the whole picture and be able to understand it. Nishida: ...I'm glad I believed what my boss taught me. I would have regretted it if I left the situation alone, thinking I understood it. Rina: Nishida-san... Bartender: Heh, I get to see some cheap melodrama. It's real convenient you came back here, shithead.

Bartender: I was careless last time, but it won't happen again. You're going to regret coming back to rescue that woman!!!! Nishida: (This time I won't be able to make use of the bathroom hallway.) Nishida: (So far I've been able to scrape by thanks to my boss's special training...) Nishida: (But I wasn't taught anything for this situation. This will be a test of my own strength!) Nishida: I may not have any help from my boss, but... I will protect Rina-san, with my own power!

Bartender: Fuck... er...

<he hits the floor> Nishida: Haa... Haa... I... won... <Nishida also hits the floor> Rina: N-Nishida-san! <and he's back up> Nishida: ...I'll be fine... Quick, go delete... your friend's photo from his phone, please. Rina: Ah, r-right! <scene transition, police sirens wail> Nishida: ...Sounds like the cops are coming. Rina: Seems so. I'm... going to tell the police everything. I'm not going to run from my punishment. Nishida: You only did it because you were being threatened... I'm sure the punishment won't be that harsh.

Rina: ...Nishida-san. <she hugs him> Nishida: ...!

Rina: ...Thank you. Rina: My boyfriend is going to be mad that I'm saying this, but... you looked really hot... seriously, thank you. (Tl note: ohhhhhhhh I knew this wouldn't work out but RIP Nishida. he never scored) Nishida: Eh... <outside now> Nishida: ...Well, I guess she really has a boyfriend.

Nishida: But, it's fine. It's not like this kind of thing is about dating. Majima Family Member: Oh! Nishida! Are you okay!? I've been worried sick! Nishida: ...Eh? Wh-What? Majima Member: Lately, there's been a lot of nasty sleep-robbery bars. There was this picture of a woman floating around that we're supposed to watch out for... Majima Member: Here, this woman. And someone saw you walking around with her, so I got worried, you know? (Tl note: bisexual rebound time?)

Nishida: This is... Rina-san!? I guess she did say she'd done that a lot, so it makes sense there would be rumors... Majima Member: Hold on... You already knew? Nishida: Ah, yeah... But, she's washed her hands of it all, so could you please stop circulating that photo? Majima Member: ...Well, if you don't want me to, then I guess there's nothing more to be done. Nishida: I'm glad... Um, did that photo possible get shown to our boss? Majima Member: Hm? Ah, yeah he was shown it. About 3 days ago, I think. Nishida: 3 days ago... So all those lessons about a woman's heart from yesterday were... for this. <flashback> Goromi: What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her?

Nishida: Umm... here's a picture from the group dating. Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along... I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating... Goromi: ......... Nishida: ...Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo? Goromi: ...Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya. <flashback over> Nishida: (Now I understand that reaction... Boss must've realized who Rina-san was...) Nishida: (All those lessons about a woman's heart... In the end it was what saved me.) Nishida: (Was... all of that just so... I wouldn't get sleep-robbed...!?) Nishida: ...Do you know where our boss is right now? Majima Member: The boss? Pretty sure she said something about waiting for Kiryu-san at SHINE. Nishida: Thanks. <Nishida walks off> Majima Member: H-Hey. Nishida! (tl note: RIP unnamed Majima Family Member, he never scored)

<now at SHINE> Nishida: Umm... The boss is... there!

Nishida: Boss! Thank you so much! Because I kept all of your lessons in mind, the date today went perfectly! Nishida: Boss... You knew about what Rina-san was up to, didn't you... So you secretly did all that for my sake-- Goromi: ...Ooh, Nishida! Perfect timin'! Nishida: Eh...? Goromi: Kiryu-chan just came to the club! The plan was a massive success! Goromi: That surprised look on Kiryu-chan's face... Fun conversations leading to a fun fight! I had the greatest time!

Nishida: A-Ahh! Is that so! That's really great! Nishida: So anyways boss, about what I was telling you regarding the date... Goromi: Your date? What's that got to do with Kiryu-chan? Nishida: Um... nothing I suppose... Goromi: Then why would I wanna hear about dumb shit like that? Goromi: I'm busy draftin' up a plan for my next fight with Kiryu-chan! Ya better get plannin' right away too!

Nishida: Ah, r... right... Got it. Goromi: Hehe, my blood's already pumpin'! Now, what next to entertain Kiryu-chan~! (Tl note: "blood's already pumping" is 腕が鳴るでえ which is more literally "my arm is ringing/rumbling" or "I'm itching to put my skills to use") <she leaves> Nishida: (...Well, that's fine. No matter what the truth is, I'm certain that it's all thanks to my boss that I'm still alive.) Nishida: (More importantly... I need to properly return the favor.)

Nishida: Boss! Wait up, please! I'll think of something great too! <END>

and then here's all of Nishida's various thoughts on things from the board game:

Kiryu-no-ojiki

A man known as the Dragon of Dojima who is absurdly strong in a fight. He’s my boss’s very favorite. Only as a fighter, though...

Alcohol

Drinking alcohol is a great stress reliever! But you have to be careful not to over do it. You should drink rather than be drunk.

Boss’s High Heels

My boss wore these while working at a cabaret club and turned them into a deadly weapon. Getting kicked by them would surely kill...

SHINE

A cabaret club where my boss occasionally works as a hostess. The store has a good reputation, but the customers my boss serves must have a difficult time...

Boss

My boss. Occasionally my boss puts on a dress and works as a hostess, but there’s never been any complaints. Though, would anyone really push on that...

Butterfly Necktie

The necktie I wear while working as a waiter. It may look like a ribbon, but it’s actually very common in formal settings.

Downtown Chinpira

Is this guy running shakedowns!? Bullying the weak is something only cowards do! Guys like this need to be taught a lesson!

The Majima Family A leading group within the Tojo Clan that's known for its violent conflicts. The family is a group of ruffians, I don't know why I ended up in it...

Majima Family Members

They're a violent and strange bunch, but if you take the time to really talk with them they’re surprisingly pleasant company. Well, they do still look scary...

Kamurocho

Painted in gaudy neon, it’s Japan’s number one entertainment district. The first time I came here, I was shocked at how many people there were.

and VERY FINALLY bonus stuff, namely the two cards! Goromi, the dreadful luck hostess, and Nishida, the mad dog’s errand boy.

this one was sooooooooooooooooooo long but also we got lore that Goromi was NOT a one-off event. which is so much more than I could have ever hoped for. I also love that Kiryu has apparently gotten the text from Nishida on multiple occasions and is shocked every time that Goromi is there waiting on him. and they still go on the date, every time

it’s not even rituals at that point they’re just using Nishida as a date coordinator with the flimsiest pretext in the world. this is that guy fighting the waffle house cook levels of pretext

#yakuza #rgg #rggo #Ryu ga Gotoku #ryu ga gotoku online #Goromi #Nishida #like a dragon

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