#I’ll shut up about him one day I promise

[ivyues]

Reconciling Comfort: pt.2 of Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O refusing a hug

Part 1 -> Rejected Embraces and Heavy Hearts

Bang Chan

The apartment feels oddly still as you stare at your phone, debating how to text him. You’d assumed Chris had gone to the studio like he planned, leaving the tense air of the argument behind to clear his head. You hate how things were left, hate the way his face crumpled as he turned away.

Finally, you decide to get up. While typing out a message you walk to your living room but out of the corner of your eye you see a silhouette sitting on the couch. Your heart jumps as you glance up.

Your boyfriend is sitting there, headphones on, his laptop balanced on his knees. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

The sight startles you. “Chris?” you blurt out, breaking the silence.

He looks up sharply, pulling his headphones off with one swift motion. “Oh—hey,” he says, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You blink, still processing his presence. “I thought you went to the studio. Why are you still here?”

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away sheepishly. “I didn’t want to go in case… you wanted to talk to me.” His words come out rushed, like he’s second-guessing every syllable. “But if you don’t – if you want me to leave, I understand. I’ll go right now—.”

He immediatly closed his laptop, as if to pack up, but you stopped him with a quick shake of your hand. “Nonono, I’m glad you stayed,” you said, moving to sit beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, your voice heavy with sincerity. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I know physical affection is important to you, and stepping back like that… I didn’t mean to shut you out like that. I just—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “I wasn’t ready at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

His expression softens, a mix of relief and lingering vulnerability. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “That means a lot to me. But… you don’t have to feel obligated, okay? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for, even if it’s just a hug. I’m not upset about that, I promise.”

Chris hesitates before continuing, his voice low. “And… I’m sorry too. For the argument. I think I let my emotions get the better of me. I wasn’t trying to put all that pressure on you. I just – sometimes I’m not the best at explaining what I mean.”

Instead of answering, you lean into him, wrapping your arms around him. It’s warm, grounding, and the tension that had built up between you dissolves. Chris lets out a breath he seems to have been holding and hugs you back, his arms encircling you tightly.

Lee Know

An hour passes, the weight of the day easing slightly as you reflect on Lee Know’s words and his quiet presence. You finally gather the courage to seek him out, hoping to mend the small gap left by your earlier rejection. The sound of gentle clatter of utensils lead you to the kitchen.

There he is, focused on the task at hand, the light from the stove casting a warm glow over his side profile. He’s stirring something in a pot, his movements precise yet relaxed.

When he senses your presence, he glances up. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, no words are said. The hurt you feared would linger is replaced by a soft understanding, though his brow lifts in slight surprise.

“Hey,” you say quietly, stepping closer. “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I needed a bit of time to digest my day.”

His expression softens, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. But before he can respond, your stomach betrays you with a loud grumble.

He blinks in surprise before breaking into a chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, I guess you’re not just digesting your day – you’re starving too,” he teases, setting down the spoon. “Have you even eaten?”

You shake your head sheepishly, and he lets out a mock sigh of exasperation. “Unbelievable. No wonder you’re feeling down. What am I going to do with you?”

Before you can reply, he grabs a couple of plates and starts dishing out the food he’s prepared. You watch him, the way he moves with care, the way he’s still here, doing this for you, and it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thank you,” you say, the words carrying a weight that goes beyond the meal. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve this – to deserve you.”

He pauses, turning to meet your gaze again, his eyes filled with something tender yet teasing. “Oh, don’t get all sappy on me now. Just eat.”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “Actually… before we eat, can I ask you something?”

He tilts his head. “What’s that?”

You step closer, your voice soft. “Are you still up for that hug?”

His lips twitch into a grin, though he narrows his eyes in feigned disapproval. “Now you want one? After I offered earlier? You know my hugs are exclusive, right?”

You roll your eyes, but before you can defend yourself, he’s already pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in warmth and familiarity. The scent of his cologne mixes with the faint aroma of the food, and for the first time that day, you feel like you can truly breathe.

“I missed out earlier,” you whispers, your voice gentle but playful.

Changbin

Hours later, after giving you the space you seemed to need, Changbin cautiously approaches your room. The quiet hum of the house feels heavier than usual. He pushes open the door gently, only to find you sprawled out on the bed, passed out.

Changbin’s expression softens as he steps closer. The tension on your face is still visible even in sleep, and it tugs at his heart. He sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you, and studies your features for a moment. A sigh escapes his lips.

After a while, you stir awake to the dim light form outside. Blinking blearily, you notice Changbin sitting in a nearby chair, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone. He looks up as he senses your movement, offering you a gentle smile.

“You’re awake,” he says softly, setting his phone aside. “Feeling any better?”

“A bit.” You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes. The weight of the day still lingers, but his presence is grounding. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Binnie,” you say suddenly, your voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to shut you out earlier. You had a tough day too, and instead of being there for you, I made it worse.”

His brow furrows with concern as he shifts to sit beside you. “Hey, no—”

“No, please let me finish,” you interrupt, tears welling up in your eyes. “I just… I’ve been so burned out lately, and I know that’s no reason but I took it out on you. That’s not fair. You deserve so much better than that.”

Your voice falters as you break into quiet sobs, the stress of the day finally overwhelming you. Without hesitation, Changbin pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if to shield you from your own thoughts.

“Shhh,” he whispers soothingly, resting his chin on your head. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to carry all of this alone.” His hand strokes your back in slow, comforting circles. “I know you’ve been going through a lot. I just want to help you, not make things harder.”

You cling to him, his warmth melting away some of the heaviness in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, muffled against his shoulder.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His thumbs gently wipe away your tears. “I love you, even on the days when it’s hard to show it. And I’ll always be here, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”

Hyunjin

Later that evening, the cool night air brushes against your skin as you sit on the balcony, your gaze lost in the vast sky above, dotted with countless stars. The events of the day weigh heavily on your heart, but the stillness of the night gives you a moment of solitude, a chance to reflect.

The sound of footsteps breaks the silence, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Hyunjin’s presence is unmistakable and you feel the space between you stretch even farther. He stands by the door, as though testing the waters, not wanting to disturb the fragile silence that exists between you two.

“I’ve been thinking,” he finally says, his voice soft and measured. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to forgive me right away. But I need you to know I’m here, no matter how long it takes.”

You glance at him then, his words tugging at something inside you. The sincerity in his eyes doesn’t erase the hurt, but it reminds you of the person standing before you. Slowly, you lift up the blanket that’s shielding you from the chill of the evening. You shift slightly, creating a space beside you, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Hyunjin hesitates for just a moment before he slides closer, wrapping himself in the blanket with you. The quiet is comfortable now, not as heavy as it once was.

Minutes pass, neither of you speaking, but the tension between you seems to lessen. Eventually, you find yourself leaning closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder as the stars above seem to sparkle brighter in the stillness of the night.

You’re not ready to forgive him – not yet. But as the night stretches on, you realize that the hurt isn’t as sharp as it once was. It hurts more to be apart. Right now, this moment, sitting together in silence, feels like the only step you can take.

Han

Han was pacing quietly in the living room, trying to distract himself from the worry that had been growing in his chest since your refusal to be held. His eyes flickered to where you’d been earlier, feeling like a puppy abandoned by its owner. He couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking, what you were going through.

Then, suddenly, a sharp sound sliced through the quiet. His heart leapt in his chest, and before he could think, he rushed toward the kitchen.

When he burst into the room, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, crouched on the floor amidst the sharp shards of a broken glass. Your expression was a mix of shock and something darker, like the weight of everything inside you had finally spilled over.

"Omg, are you okay?!" Han asked urgently, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes wide, quickly scanned you for any sign of injury, but it wasn’t just the glass that had him panicked – it was the look in your eyes, distant and vacant, like you weren’t fully present.

You shook your head, looking down at the shards scattered around you. "I... I'm fine," you murmured, but the words didn’t sound convincing to him.

Your breath caught, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "I'm such a mess," you said quietly, a shaky exhale following. "I don’t even know why... I just... everything feels so broken right now, and I don’t know how to fix it."

Han’s heart ached for you, and he didn’t hesitate. With a gentle, almost tender tone, he spoke. "It’s okay to be a mess," His eyes never leaving you, he crouched next to you. "You don’t have to have everything together. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere."

You let out a long breath, the tension in your body easing just slightly as you allowed yourself to lean against him. Neither of you spoke for a while, the stillness of the moment offering a rare kind of comfort. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, a quiet support, like he was holding you together.

Eventually, Han reached out with his free hand, carefully pushing the glass shards to the side, making a little space between you and the mess. "We don’t have to clean it up right now," he said softly, his voice gentle. "We can just be here."

For a moment, you just sat there, on your cold kitchen floor surrounded by the shards of one of your favorite glasses, your head resting against his shoulder, letting the quiet soothe the chaos inside your mind. The world outside could wait.

Felix

Felix sat in the airport terminal, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. The din of travelers blurred into white noise around him, but all he could focus on was the blank screen he fiddled in his hands. He had checked it at least ten times in the past minute, hoping for a message from you – a lifeline to soothe the ache that had been growing since your last conversation.

The past few days had been tense, the effortless flow of your texts reduced to short, clipped exchanges.

"Still nothing?" Chan’s voice broke through Felix’s thoughts as the older member settled into the seat beside him.

Felix shook his head, a small, resigned sigh escaping him. "I don’t blame them," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the screen. "I just... I hate leaving like this, you know? I don’t want them to think I don’t care."

Chan placed a reassuring hand on Felix’s shoulder. "They know you care. Sometimes, people just need time to process." 

Felix nodded, though the unease remained. He knew Chan was right, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. What if time wasn’t enough?

A soft buzz interrupted his thoughts. His heart leapt as he saw your name flash on the screen. Hesitating for only a second, he opened the message.

"Hey. I hope you have a safe flight. Let me know when you get to the hotel? If you want, we could call."

Felix read the text twice, his chest tightening with a mix of relief and longing. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough. Enough to feel like a small bridge had been built between the two of you.

Chan caught a glimpse of the soft smile spreading across Felix’s face and leaned back in his chair, giving a small nod of approval. He didn’t say anything, but the respect he felt for the bond between you two was evident in the quiet way he patted Felix’s back before standing up.

The flight was long, but the thought of hearing your voice made it bearable. When he finally arrived at the hotel and dropped his bags, he dialed your number without hesitation.

-----

The days passed slowly, but eventually, Felix was home. His heart raced as he opened the door. The familiar scent of the place hit him first, grounding him, but it wasn’t until he heard your footsteps that everything felt real.

You appeared at the edge of the hallway, your expression a mix of hesitation and warmth. Felix froze for a moment, his breath catching as he tried to read your face. Then you smiled – small and shy.

Closing the distance between you, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You held him just as tightly, your fingers threading through his hair. “I missed you too, Lix.”

It wasn’t just a hug; it was a reconnection, a renewal. It felt like the first time all over again – the warmth, the electricity. And in that moment, Felix knew you would both be okay. Even with the heavy talk standing in front of you, he believed that you'd both find your way through it.

Seungmin

The following day, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, your heart still weighed down from the emotions of yesterday. You go about your day until you find a small, neatly folded note on the kitchen counter, its edges creased from being gently set down. You recognize Seungmin's handwriting immediately.

The words are simple, but their meaning strikes deep:

“I know yesterday was hard. I’m here when you’re ready. Take your time.”

You feel a wave of warmth and gratitude surge through you, but also a familiar pang of guilt. His kindness, his patience – it almost feels too much, yet it's exactly what you need right now. You let out a breath, the tension you didn’t even realize you were holding releasing just a little.

Later, when you meet with Seungmin after his practice, your heart feels lighter but still raw. His usual bright, confident demeanor is softened by something deeper today. You catch his eyes and notice the faint hint of uncertainty behind his smile. He’s waiting for you, allowing you the space you need, just as the note said.

As you both settle into the familiar quiet, the words you’ve been holding back finally spill out, soft but genuine.

"Thank you for giving me space," you say, the gratitude in your voice clear. "I needed it, but I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you."

Seungmin’s expression softens, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I just want to make sure you're okay," he replies, his tone sincere. "And if you need me to be closer or farther away, I’m fine with either. You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready."

After a moment of silence you ask “So… how would you feel about being a little closer right now?" Your words trailing off as you look at him, hesitant but hopeful. Your eyes search his, a hint of longing behind the question.

Seungmin's smile widens, though his expression remains gentle, and he shakes his head slowly, his eyes warm with understanding. "I think we’re already close enough," he says, his tone teasing but kind.

Without another word, he opens his arms, and you step into his embrace. The hug is quiet, comforting, and without the pressure of anything more.

I.N

You collapse onto the couch, your phone in hand, feeling a growing sense of isolation. The time passes, and you find yourself scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract yourself from the emotional weight pressing on your chest. Each swipe seems to only deepen the discomfort, the posts making you feel even more alone as the world around you continues on without a care.

Your phone buzzes suddenly, and you glance down at the notification. It’s from I.N. The message is a simple meme – a picture of a dog wearing glasses with the caption: "Me when I try to act cool, but I’m actually an emotional mess."

A small chuckle escapes you, your heart lightened just a little by his attempt to cheer you up. It’s just a silly meme, but somehow, his gesture makes everything feel a bit more manageable.

The phone buzzes again, and you read his next message: "If you ever need to vent, I'm here. You don’t have to carry it all alone."

Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment, and you begin typing. "I’m sorry for earlier… I just don’t want to drag you down."

Almost instantly, a reply comes: "You could never drag me down. Let me know if you want a hug. I’m always here for you, okay?" Attached to that message was a GIF of two cartoon animals with big, fluffy arms stretching out in an exaggerated hug.

Your heart softens, the words hitting a place deep inside you that you didn’t realize was aching.

Without a second thought, you push yourself off the couch, phone still in hand, and head towards him. When he sees you standing there, his face brightens, and he opens his arms, welcoming you into a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry I pulled away earlier,” you whisper against his chest, the weight of everything from the day slowly melting away as you allow yourself to lean into his comfort.

[colinzabelswife]

Glasses-Peter Maximoff

Peter Maximoff x reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff :)

You had always needed glasses, it was something you couldn’t avoid. You were little when it became clear that you needed them,so your parents set up an appointment to get them. At first it was only for reading, but when you refused to wear them because you thought they looked weird, it eventually became a problem.

After a few years of wearing glasses every so often, you just decided to get contacts. It would be a lot better than wearing those ugly things, you thought. Peter on the other hand thought you looked really cute in glasses. He would constantly remind you to wear them but you just protested saying that you could see without them and that they just made you look like a nerd.

“I just don’t understand why you want contacts instead of glasses.” Peter said confused, he knew that you didn’t wear them because of your insecurity. “I think you look cute in them.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. “What? I’m not wrong” Peter wasn’t lying and he didn’t like the fact that you didn’t believe him.

Two weeks later

It was currently 7:45am and you were running behind on getting ready. School started at 8 which meant you still had 15 minutes left to get ready. You were sitting at your vanity struggling to put your contacts in. “UGH! I can’t put them in!” You whine as Peter walked into the room. “Just wear your glasses” He says as he flops on the bed. You were already fed up and annoyed and his comment didn’t help so you glared at him. “Jeez sorry, I was just trying to help.” After about another two minutes of trying to put them in, you got so frustrated that there were tears in your eyes. Peter looked up at you and quickly noticed your frustration. He then got up and crouched down next to you and tried to calm you down. “Look, I know you don’t like wearing your glasses, but you’re already running behind and it doesn’t help when you’re frustrated with your contacts. So please…just wear your glasses.” Peter saw the look of determination of not wearing them, on your face. “I’m not lying when I say you look cute in them.” Eventually you caved and decided to wear your glasses.

Later that day, you could tell that wearing your glasses made a huge difference. You were able to see a lot better and everything was more clear. “Hey nerd”, you heard as you turned around to see Peter standing by your locker with a dopey smile on his face. “Shut up. I know I already look like one.” You say annoyed. “I’m just messing with ya”, Peter said pulling you into a kiss. “No I’m being serious. I woke up this morning and I’m breaking out all over my face and on top of that I have to wear these glasses”, you say upset. “Hey hey…look at me, calm down. Your acne isn’t that bad and the glasses don’t make it worse. I promise…so just calm down. You’re fine.” He said as he held you by your arms.

After a minute of standing there like that, Peter pulled away and looked in your eyes. “I know you’re feeling insecure but you shouldn’t. It’s normal to have acne and it’s not a big deal to wear glasses. They don’t make you look like a nerd, they help you see. And if people can’t see that, then that’s their issue.” After he said that, Peter pulled you into a hug. “Now I have to get going and so do you, so I’ll see you later. We can watch something together and get pizza okay?” You nod as the bell rang and walked to your next class.

Later that night like Peter promised, he ordered pizza and turned on a movie. You two were currently curled up on his bed watching a Christmas movie. “Maybe you were right about my glasses”, you say quietly. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” “Because I was able to see better and they were more comfortable to wear.” He then pulled you closer to him. “Well I’m glad that you are finally believing me.” You snuggled closer to him. “I’m going to sleep now, love you.” “Love you too babe. Sleep tight.”

Tags: @lacucarachapisser @bohnerrific69 @fear-is-truth @wcnderlnds @xrag-dollx @evansroses

Personal Rant

(This happened to me a few weeks ago except I didn’t have Peter 😔. I absolutely despise wearing my glasses because I feel like I look ugly in them and the day that I had to wear them because I couldn’t get my contacts in, my acne was horrible and I’ve never had any break outs like that before and when I put them on I felt like I looked like a nerd)

[arthurhillmastermind]

Anyone but him | Arthur Hill

“Same Building, same friends, zero patience for each other. For now.”

Kirstie stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her hair for the third time. She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety about attending Chris’s dinner party. After moving into the flat below him, she’d only heard stories about his friends— ArthurTV, and Bach. Chris had promised they were fun, but that didn’t ease her nerves. What if they didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like them?

With a final deep breath, Kirstie grabbed her jacket and made her way upstairs. She knocked on Chris’s door, and it swung open almost immediately, revealing a beaming Chris.

“You made it! I was beginning to think I’d have to come and drag you here myself!” he teased, pulling her into a quick hug.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kirstie replied, rolling her eyes but smiling as she stepped inside.

The flat was warm and inviting, the scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. The living room was filled with laughter and casual chatter, and Kirstie felt her heart race as she spotted three guys lounging on the couch.

Chris led her over, gesturing grandly. “This is Kirstie! Although I feel like I didn't need to say this.”

Bach looked up, a cheeky grin on his face. “Yeah you didn't.! Chris won’t stop talking about you. Welcome to the shit show.”

ArthurTV smirked, raising his drink. “If he’s been hyping you up, you must be something special. I’m Arthur.”

Bach, sitting cross-legged with a warm smile, nodded in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you, Kirstie. Don’t mind Chris and ArthurTV; they’re just jealous I’m the best-looking one here.”

Kirstie chuckled, feeling her tension ease slightly. “Oh really? I'm pretty sure that changed when I came in, but I’ll have to make that judgement for myself,” she quipped back, earning a round of laughter.

“You’re going to fit right in,” Chris declared, clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat before everything gets cold.”

As they gathered around the dining table, Kirstie found herself seated between ArthurTV and Bach. Chris had gone all out, with a spread that looked as good as it smelled.

“So, Kirstie,” ArthurTV started, leaning slightly toward her. “What games are you streaming these days?”

Kirstie took a sip of her drink, feeling more at ease. “I just started streaming GTA V. It’s been a wild ride so far. Lots of chaos and swearing and laughing. I Play with Ginge sometimes and I play Fifa every so often too, ill play anything my stream ask me too to be honest, I did a sims challenge during a 24-hour stream, they asked me to make Chris and harry and let them get married, so I did.”

Chris annoyed “yeah and thanks to that I keep getting fan fiction written about it”

Kirstie impressed with herself “yup and thanks to that I bought my new pc”

Bach leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. “ I rate that, Are you a total wild card, or do you play it safe?”

“Depends on my mood,” Kirstie replied with a smirk. “But I’d say I enjoy a bit of reckless abandon now and then. I like leaving a game like sims or   on while streaming when I take a stream break and grab a drink or answer a call.”

ArthurTV raised his glass again with a grin. “That’s what we like to hear! Welcome to the shit show. I can imagine that Ginge is an annoying twat sometimes, though.”

Kirstie laughed, raising her glass to clink with his. “Thank you! He’s one of my favourite people to stream with, though. I try to get him on a stream three or four times a month. We balance each other out, I think.”

Chris groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know he’d like to ‘balance you out’ too.”

Kirstie shot him an unimpressed look. “Chris, actually shut the fuck up.”

The group burst into laughter, ArthurTV slapping Chris on the back as he tried to maintain his mock-wounded expression. Kirstie felt her nerves melting away, blending seamlessly into the banter.

As dinner was served, Kirstie found herself surrounded by playful jabs and hilarious stories. She exchanged quips with Bach and ArthurTV, who were both delighted to test her sense of humour. Chris chimed in with a few anecdotes about their friend group that had Kirstie nearly in tears from laughing.

At one point, Chris disappeared into the kitchen to check on dessert, leaving Kirstie and the guys to chat. She noticed Arthur’s name come up in conversation, and her heart raced a little.

“What’s Arthur Hill actually like?” Kirstie asked casually, trying to keep her tone light.

“He’s a bit of a mystery,”  ArthurTV replied, a knowing look in his eyes. “Talented musician, but he can be a pain sometimes.”

“Yeah, like a lovable pain,” Bach added, rolling his eyes. “He has his moments.”

“He’s got this knack for thinking he’s cooler than everyone else,” ArthurTV added with a laugh. “But deep down, he’s a softie.”

Kirstie felt a strange flutter at the mention of Arthur. Despite their less-than-friendly encounters, she found herself curious about him.

Just then, Chris returned with a tray of desserts, interrupting her thoughts. “Alright, who’s ready for some sweet treats?”

The laughter and chatter resumed, and Kirstie felt grateful for the warmth of the evening. Maybe fitting in wouldn’t be as difficult as she had feared.

--------------------------------

Part 1 - here!

[cupidbedsy]

❃ downtown festivities ; flowers

➪ summary: connor and violet visit downtown chicago and their adventure is nothing short of chaotic

➪ warnings: two people rearing their heads into every single thing connor and violet do (lukas and kevin ofc)

➪ word count: 0.9k

➪ file type: 12 days of au's: christmas edition (flowers) blurb

➪ cupid's notes: honestly, whenever i'm in writers block i really just need to write for these two bc this was so easy to write and i don't know why i was dreading doing this in the first place. i still have three more blurbs to work on in order to be caught up but i don't know if those will be out tomorrow or today so yeah

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?”

“Connie, I’ll be fine. I promise.” Violet looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, already dressed in her winter coat, UofI beanie on her head and gloves adorning her hands. 

Connor finished putting on his boots, walking over to her, and grabbing her hands to pull her up, “Just making sure.”

She smiled up at him, letting him bring her into a soft kiss. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead to rest against hers, unable to keep the huge smile that was growing on his face. The smile caused her to blush, looking at him with curious and shy eyes, “What?”

“Nothing.” He stepped back, gripping her hand, “C’mon, we have places to be.”

The two walked out of Connor’s apartment, Violet whispering about all the things she wanted to do and wanted to see. It took everything in Connor to not just say ‘okay’ to everything she was saying, wanting nothing more than to spoil her just as he always did. 

The cold hit them immediately as they stepped out of the building, Violet trying to bury her head further into her coat, “Jesus fuck.”

He laughed, looking down at her, “That’s a new one.”

She clutched tightly onto her boyfriend’s hand as they made their way down the street, eyes wandering as she tried to look at every single Christmas decoration that was out. Once they came to a corner, Violet’s eyes looked around aimlessly until her eyes landed on the store diagonally from them, a hit-eating grin on her face, “Connie.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?” He didn’t look down at her, simply pulling her into his side to keep her warm and away from the other people who were starting to crowd around them as they waited to cross the street. 

“I found a store I want to go to.”

“And what store is that?”

She nodded her head in the direction, waiting for realization to click after he turned his head. He scanned the store, immediately rolling his eyes before looking back at her, “Really?”

“Please.”

“Do you want to go because you want to or do you want to go because you want to see my face everywhere?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” She trailed off, smiling before pulling him in that direction. 

“Careful, Vi. You’re either going to trample someone or get trampled and I am not in the mood to deal with either outcome.”

“Shut up.”

They came to a stop outside the Hawks store, Violet bouncing with anticipation or amusement, he didn’t know, but it made him smile nonetheless. He opened the door, allowing her to talk in first, trailing after her as they climbed up the steps. 

The guy standing there, got ready to greet the two of them when his gaze fell on Connor, cocking his head in confusion to which the boy just grumbled, “Don’t ask.”

The worker laughed and nodded, “Welcome in guys.”

Connor followed her around like a lost puppy the entire time, making mental notes in his head about which things she said she liked and which ones she loved. When they stopped by Winter Classic jerseys, he gave her a look when she took her phone out and took a picture of the sign, “What’re you going?”

Violet gave him an innocent look, “I don’t have this picture of you yet.”

“Obsessed much?”

“Yes.” 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Once Violet finished looking at everything she wanted to, the two made their way back downstairs into the cold of Chicago, trudging through downtown. When they came to a stop at a red light, waiting to cross, she looked over at him, studying the slope of his nose and the slight curve of his jaw. 

As if he could feel her staring, Connor looked over at her, furrowing his eyes with a cocky smirk playing on his lips, “Yes?”

“Can you believe it’s almost been a year since we started dating?”

And she was right, and no, he couldn’t believe it. A year ago today, they were probably texting about something completely random and most of his focus was on playing better and helping the team. A year ago today, they were dancing around their feelings and just basking in their friendship and flirtiness.

In a week, Violet would fly out to Buffalo with the team so they could be together for their anniversary, and then they would fly back home to celebrate New Year’s together. Connor’s head swam with the information, at their plans, at the present that was hiding in the bottom of his backpack. 

His smile softened into one of fondness, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple and bringing her into a huge hug, “I love you.”

Her eyes met his and she grinned, going up on her tip-toes in order to kiss his jaw, “I love you too.”

Some ran into the back of Connor, causing the two of them to stumble slightly, the boy turning around to glare at whoever it was. But instead of some stranger he thought he was going to have to yell at it, he was met with the faces of his two teammates, “What the fuck are you two doing here?”

Lukas and Kevin gave them shit-eating grins, “Fancy meeting the two of you here. What brings you two lovely people out on this very fine day?”

And some things will never change, even if those things include running into Kevin and Lukas when he really didn’t want to.

꒰ FLOWERS TAGLIST ꒱

@winterbarnesblog @rowdyluv @fantillisgirl @macklin-celebrini-71

FLOWERS MASTERLIST ; AU'S ; 12 DAYS OF AU'S

TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Hiking reward ⭑

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Day 3/12 of Smuffmas! In nature & Deepthroating with Billy

12 days of Smuffmas Masterlist

Pairing: Billy Washington x Gf!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, teasing, making out, whiny Billy, blowjob, deepthroating, anal fingering, exhibitionism (no one's around)

Summary: Billy is not up for the hike his girlfriend desperately wants but he might just comply for a delicious reward.

Taglist smuffmas ‘24: @venmondiese

Any sunny day in England was to be appreciated, for it was not often that it was actually sunny and warm in summer. And so you spent the whole morning begging your boyfriend to go on a hike with you.

Billy wasn’t into exercise, nature or going out his comfortable flat in any situation, but the way his sweet and kind girlfriend was begging him to made his resolve crumble little by little. 

His flat was hot, the cheap fan he kept blasting day and night doing nothing to get the heat out. “We don’t even have to go far, the forest is only three miles from here. It’ll be nice, I promise.” Billy shook his head but seemed to give in a bit more. 

“It’s way too hot love, trust me, it won’t be nice.” You walked over to where he was sat on the couch, sipping his hot tea even though it was warm outside.

Setting your knee on each side of his lap, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Leaning in, your mouth near his ear. “If you go with me, just for a short hike, I promise you will not regret it.”

His breath shuddered while he listened to your words. “I’ll put on me sneakers then.” Billy simply said before he moved you off him. You laughed as he almost jogged to his closet, getting some dusty old pair of sneakers he hadn’t worn in ages. 

However as you had only walked past the entrance of the trail for about a couple of hundred metres, he already started to complain. “So can we turn back now or?” You gave him a shocked look.

“Billy we just got here, don’t tell me you’re already tired.” He shrugged and smiled. “We could be doing something way more active right now.” You rolled your eyes at him and kept walking, speeding up your pace just a little.

“That’s not the point, exercise that is. The point is to get some fresh air and enjoy being outside.” He tried his best to keep up with you but sweat was already dampening his face as well as his clothes.

“Couldn’t you have chosen a less hotter day? I'm sweating me balls off.” You laughed at his words, and pondered if he was right. No one else seemed to be out today, everyone locked up at home with their air-con or fan.

“Well at least no one’s around. Come on, just a bit further and we’ll go back, I promise. And maybe you’ll get your reward.” Billy seemed intrigued by that and finally shut up for a while. 

At least he had a nice view of you in your shorts and tanktop. He hadn’t even changed, still in his thin grey joggers and green t-shirt. After a while and about two miles in, you arrived to a split path. 

The one to the right was further in the forest and to a thicker area and the left was a quicker way back with a thinner treeline and bushes. You were already turning right when Billy spoke up. “No, no love please. Let’s just go back, I’m tired and sweaty.” He whined.

“If you follow me, I’ll show you why we’re turning right.” He seemed to give in and followed you anyway. As he walked next to you again, you grabbed his hand and strayed off the path, deeper into the forest until no one following the trail could see you.

“Why are we going here, is it even allowed?” You smiled at his words. “Don’t worry baby, just giving you your reward. But no one should see us.” His eyes widened at that and he had no time to answer before your lips crashed on his.

Even though he was a bit sweaty, he still tasted divine. Somehow he was even more addicting this way, especially with how whimpers left his lips in between your hungry kisses. He bit your lip in the way you loved, leaving you breathless. 

When you slid your tongue in his mouth, he moaned. It was always exciting to tease Billy, to pleasure him, watching him come undone with the simplest touches. Your boyfriend loved to be at your mercy. 

His tongue danced against yours, spit mingling in a sloppy, lustful kiss. You could already feel your arousal dampening your underwear and when Billy pressed you close to him, you could feel his very obvious erection against your thigh.

He whined when you pulled back but when you saw his hard bulge through his thin grey joggers, your mouth watered and you couldn’t resist. Your hand moved from his neck down to his chest, his breath stuck in his throat as he anticipated your next move.

Wanting to be kind to him for somewhat complying with your activity today, you palmed his hard cock through his joggers, sending a shiver down his spine. Knowing Billy would be loud, you chose a secluded spot so even if someone did pop out today, they wouldn’t hear you. 

You massaged his cock some more and watched as precum bled through his clothes. Having decided you teased him enough, you sank to your knees. “Fuck, yes baby. Can’t wait to feel your warm mouth around my cock.” 

You moaned against his erection as you kissed and mouthed at it through his clothes. Making him beg for more. Pulling down his joggers and underwear at the same time, his cock sprung free.

You took him in your hand and kissed the head of his beautiful cock, earning a hiss from him. “Please love, please.” He almost whimpered, so desprate for his pretty girlfriends mouth. You complied and started to eagerly suck his cock.

Drawing curses from him as you swallowed him further down. Your other hand moved to massage his balls, something you had noticed over the months of dating him, he loved. He was sensitive on his slit too and the spot where his sack and puckered hole met.

As you took him deeper and deeper, thats where your hand moved next. Billy almost buckled over but his hands helped steady him when they grabbed your head. You knew all his weak spots and christ did he love you for it.

Your nose hit the hairs on his pubic bone, tip all the way at the back of your throat. Your finger softly massaged the sensitive skin near his hole and for a moment he wondered if you would go further. 

After only two more seconds, you moved back for air, spit and precum running down your lips and chin. Billy admired you as you swiftly moved back to suck him in again. “Please baby, please make me cum.”

In the heat of the moment, you moved your tongue at the underside of his shaft and moved your finger fully in his hole. Billy loudly cried out at the sensation, begging and begging as you fingered his g-spot. “I’m gonna cum- gonna cum-” 

His final straw was when you moved back a bit, focused on his tip and licked his slit as fast as you could, trying to move your finger inside him in the same rhythm.

Billy screamed your name as he shot ropes of his cum in your mouth, almost falling to his knees with the way you hit his prostate over and over again.

You made sure his orgasm lasted as long as possible before he begged you to pull of, the sensitivity becoming too much for him. So you simply swallowed his cum and retreated your finger. His heavy breathing and soft curses still filled the air.

Then he manoeuvred you over to a nearby tree, your back softly hitting the bark before he kissed your neck feverishly. When he now got on his knees instead, you knew he couldn’t resist returning the favour.

[cetaitlaverite]

Anything to Anywhere

Masters of the Air - John Egan x OC

masterlist is hereeee <3

28. Sweet and Gentle

“Herr Hitler has been informed of your presence here,” the stalag’s commandant, whose name Stella could now reliably pronounce as ‘von Lindeiner’, told her calmly as she sat on the other side of his desk. He didn’t say anything else, just watched her steadily with that heavy gaze of his, waiting for a reaction.

Stella wouldn’t give him one. She stared, motionless, back at him.

“He is fast becoming disillusioned with Allied airmen,” von Lindeiner added when it became clear Stella wasn’t going to say anything. “And, now, airwomen as well.”

“It’s only taken him five years to realise the Luftwaffe has its hands full,” Stella remarked drily. “I wouldn’t call that fast.”

Von Lindeiner smiled mildly. “You have not long had domination of the skies.”

“We won the Battle of Britain before the Yanks ever entered the war,” Stella replied coldly. “Think what you like, but the Luftwaffe has had its hands full since 1940.”

Von Lindeiner leaned forwards in his chair. “If you would tell me anything at all about your operation you would buy yourself favour,” he informed her. “A location of an airfield, an insight into your technology…”

“If Herr Hitler wants to send me off to my death he will do it regardless of what I tell you,” Stella replied coolly. “I’d much rather die knowing I kept my mouth shut and gave my friends the best possible chance of survival than die a traitor.” She shook her head, her heart racing with her sudden fury at all of this, the sheer unfairness of it. “We will win the war,” she declared. “We will because we have to. Because we cannot allow ourselves to live in a world run by Nazis. And I will certainly not be among the few who tried to hinder my country’s victory.” Slumping back in her chair, she kept her gaze blazing and furious. “I’ll go to my death as a pilot who flew in the spies who unravelled all of your efforts, as an Englishwoman who did everything she could in the name of freedom. I’ll tell you nothing.”

Von Lindeiner looked exhausted. There was no other word for it. He sat back in his chair again and ran a hand down his face. “Flight Lieutenant Finley,” he began, “I admire your courage, but you will not win the war single-handedly.”

Stella said nothing. She set her gaze past him out of the window and waited.

That was how she spent most of their meetings nowadays. Waiting. And von Lindeiner let her. When she stopped answering his pleas and questions he sat back and joined her in silence. He was true to his promise not to torture, to treat her with respect, even as he warned that every day she told him nothing was a day less time she had to decide to change her mind.

When Stella returned to the barracks, she avoided all eye contact with the men sitting around playing cards at the table and made a beeline for her bed. When she got there, she snatched Lucky’s bunny up and turned, promptly heading for the door again.

“Stels,” John called after her. She listened to the legs of his chair scuff against the floor as he rose to his feet.

“I want to be alone,” Stella asserted without turning around.

She didn’t turn either when Buck joined her on the steps to the barracks a short while later. She knew it was him because John would have sat closer, so at least the lengths of their arms were touching, and he would have talked as soon as he sat down.

She’d expected to be followed so she didn’t object, but she didn’t greet him either, just kept staring straight ahead at the wasteland beyond the camp’s fence, at the patches of sky torn apart by the barbed wire, fiddling with the paws of the bunny sitting in her lap.

“John’s worried,” Buck said after a while.

“He should be,” Stella replied. “Apparently, Hitler knows about me. I’m sure he’s just thrilled to know he’s paying to feed and shelter a pilot who flew spies into his empire.”

“Can’t be much worse than a pilot who dropped bombs on his cities,” Buck pointed out.

Stella’s answering laugh was bitter and rueful. “If there’s anything I’ve learned about the Germans since being held captive by them,” she said, “it’s that they hate spies.”

“You’re not a spy.”

“No,” Stella said. “Worse. The spies wouldn’t be able to do anything without pilots like me.”

Buck considered this quietly. “Are you scared?” he asked after a while.

She set her chin defiantly. “I won’t talk.”

“I wasn’t worried that you would.”

“Well, I won’t,” Stella reasserted. “I won’t talk, I don’t care what they do to me. Even if it’s worse than before.”

She was more frightened than she allowed herself to let on. The threat of something worse than anything she’d already endured hung over her head like a dark cloud. The sympathy in the eyes of the other men only made it worse, made her feel like she was going to be forced to walk to her own death tomorrow.

She avoided John for the rest of the day, because if he asked her if she was alright or made even the slightest move to offer her comfort she was sure she’d burst into tears right there in front of everyone. She had already made quite enough of a spectacle of herself, thank you very much.

Instead, she stuck with the other men. She sat and talked Benny’s ear off about useless garbage and she asked Brady to teach her a proper song on the piano instead of just scales and she asked Buck to go on a walk with her after he’d changed her bandages. She barely even looked at John, in fact, until they were lying together in bed that night. And when he whispered, “You alright?” through the darkness she simply rolled over to face the wall, holding on tight to Lucky’s bunny and willing herself not to cry.

The next day, when she pulled the same stunt, she could feel John’s eyes on her and knew he was getting jealous, infuriated that she was spending time with everyone but him and unknowing of the reason why.

No longer was she afraid she might cry, but if the commandant was right, if she was about to be sent away again and this time somewhere she wasn’t likely to return from, then this cat and mouse game she’d been playing with John since Thorpe Abbotts couldn’t go on. It would be better for everyone if she started detaching herself now. Maybe she still had enough time left that she could even make him hate her again by the time she was sent onwards.

She kept to herself all day. She spoke little. And it was so hard, so hard, and it was going to be even harder to keep it up, but she had to try. For John, she reminded herself. It was already so hard for him to be here. She didn’t want to make herself indispensable to him just to leave him again.

The effort it took to detach herself was overwhelming. It quickly became stifling to be surrounded by everyone and force herself to stay apart. So when evening roll call ended and everyone headed back to the barracks, Stella took her chance to flee in the midst of the chaos, the exodus of so many bodies allowing her to disappear into the crowd.

She would only take a moment, she reasoned with herself. No one would even notice she was gone. But when she slipped into the space behind the west compound theatre and pressed her back to the wall, looked straight ahead and saw only fence and darkness, heard only muffled voices from the men heading into the nearest barracks, she realised for the first time since arriving at the stalag how badly she’d needed a moment just to breathe. These days she was only ever alone when she was in the bathroom, and she was always having to rush to get out because none of the men could be in there at the same time as her. But now, if she was careful, she had time to herself to really breathe, to relax, to revel in silence and solitude.

She let her head tip back to rest against the wall behind her and closed her eyes.

“Won’t stay long,” she murmured to herself because, apparently, she didn’t really know how to be alone anymore, didn’t know how to exist without someone to talk to. “Won’t stay long,” she mumbled again, swaying on her feet, humming up into the stars. “I’ll be in trouble if I stay too long.” She didn’t have a watch she could use to keep track of how long she had until curfew. A little while yet, by her reckoning. But how long was a little while?

“Just until I feel better,” Stella went on mumbling. “Just until the world feels big again.” Because, in here, everything felt so, so small. Even when she’d been in prison it had been easier to remember that there was a world outside of her cell. Even when she was being tortured it was easy to convince herself she was in service of something bigger than herself, that every time she didn’t talk she was actively pushing the Allied war effort forward. In there, she could do little else but remind herself of the war raging on beyond the walls because it was everything she was fighting for.

In here, with its theatre and its library and its roll calls and its civility, it was harder to convince herself there was a purpose to all this because, really, there wasn’t. Her world had simply been reduced to this horrible, overcrowded, dingy camp.

Maybe she was only there, hiding, for a little while. Or maybe she was there for a long time. In any case, when John showed up, ruddy cheeked and breathless, he was furious.

“What the fuck, Stella?” he hissed, rounding the back of the theatre and starting towards her. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he demanded.

Stella frowned, pushing herself to stand up straight in a bid to make herself feel taller. “Don’t shout at me,” she said.

“Goddamn it, Stella,” John growled. “Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was? Going off on your own like that - what the fuck were you thinking? You can’t do that here!”

Tilting her chin up and meeting his eyes head on, Stella scoffed. “I can do what I like.”

“No,” John snapped, “you can’t. You’re the only woman in here and some of these guys haven’t seen a woman in years. You think you can just go wandering off by yourself in the dark and everyone’s gonna respect you enough to leave you alone?”

“They did!” Stella exclaimed. “No one bothered me except you!”

“This time!” John cried. “You got lucky!”

“I can look after myself! I don’t need you to be my bodyguard!”

“Yes you do! Maybe you didn’t before but you do now because you’re hurt!”

Stella recoiled from him, her cheeks burning as though he’d just slapped her in the face. “You said you don’t think of me differently,” she accused.

Sighing, John tipped his head back and huffed into the sky. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

“Why are you being so goddamn difficult right now, huh?” John demanded, rounding on her once more. “Ever since you got here you’ve been all sweet and gentle and today you’ve decided you wanna fight me again! Why?!”

With her chest heaving and the sting of angry tears in her eyes, Stella stepped towards John only so she could lower her voice, afraid, suddenly, that the men in the nearby barracks might be able to hear them. “I was ‘sweet’ and ‘gentle’,” she said, spitting his own words back at him, “because I thought I was safe.”

His gaze hardened. “What changed?”

Stella stared back at him, breathing harshly, her neck aching with the effort of craning it back to meet his eyes, and felt a rush of rage so vicious she could do nothing to quell it. It was all just so unfair. If they’d met when there wasn’t a war on then maybe this could have worked. Maybe, if she wasn’t always fighting so hard to keep her head above water, she could have been sweet and gentle for him the way he wanted her to be. Maybe they would have met at university or something, if she’d been smart enough to get a scholarship, and maybe they would have fallen in love and bought a house together and been sweet and gentle together instead of constantly butting heads.

They shouldn’t have been here, hanging on so tightly to each other that they were drawing blood.

Stella set her hands on his chest and gave him a hard shove. It didn’t push him back far. “Why do you care so much?!” she demanded.

John shook his head. His voice was low, measured, refusing to return her combat. “You know why.”

For a moment, Stella faltered. She stared up into his face, wide-eyed and vulnerable, until she remembered where she was and how angry it made her that he insisted on loving her, even here. “Well,” she said, grasping at words. “Well - don’t!”

Something in his eyes flashed. “Don’t what?!” he asked. Suddenly his patience was failing him. “Huh, Stella?” he goaded her. “I wanna hear you say it!”

“I want to hear you say it!” she retorted. When she made to shove him again he grabbed hold of her wrists and held them to his chest so she could feel the racing of his heart, sure and insistent between them.

“I love you,” he said seriously, simply, like he’d set it a thousand times before. “You know I do.”

The corners of Stella’s lips tipped down. Wrong, wrong, wrong, this was all so wrong. She should have let him say it before, at Thorpe Abbotts, when she’d been a better version of herself, when she’d still been whole, when the version of her she could give him in return would have been worth it. “You shouldn’t,” she said.

He shook his head. His laugh was mirthless. “But I do!” he insisted. “I can’t help it!”

“You need to try!” Stella shouted.

He stalled. Went still. His eyes searched hers, searched her face. He held on tighter to her hands as though he expected her to wrench them away from him. When he spoke his voice was soft but ragged at the edges, like a teddy bear loved into old age. “You don’t love me back?”

Sharply, she looked away. The ache in her chest was unbearable. She shook her head. “No.” She made to wrench her hands out of his grip but he wouldn’t let her.

“You don’t?” he breathed.

Her bottom lip wobbled even as she set her eyes on a patch of grass visible only by the light of the moon. “No,” she whispered. It was better for him this way, she reasoned, because if they took her away it would only hurt him more. “I don’t.”

“You’re lying,” he accused weakly, desperately, trying to meet her eyes.

Her patience failed her again. “Shut up, John,” she snapped. She gave her hands a harsh tug and freed them in one go, then shook them out and wrapped her arms around herself, tight, like she was trying to replicate a hug. “You don’t know me well enough to tell me when I am and am not lying,” she hissed. It took all the strength inside of her to make herself meet his gaze.

Again, John laughed that bitter, hollow laugh. His eyes were heartbroken as they searched hers. “Yes I do,” he objected sadly. “I do know you, Stella. I know you were born on November nineteenth 1920 and that you have eight brothers. Your favourite brother is the one closest to you in age, Harry, and he’s one year older than you. You’re the youngest, the baby Finley.

“I know your favourite type of bird is hummingbirds and you wear one on a chain around your neck,” he powered on. “Your brothers got it for you for your birthday one year. And I know you know all there is to know about birds because you love things that fly - but you still love penguins even though they don’t fly ‘cause you like the way they waddle.

“I know your favourite plane is the Hurricane and you don’t like flying bombers ‘cause you think they’re boring but they always made you do it anyway because you were the best. I know you never go anywhere without your childhood teddy bear, Ralph - except, apparently, into occupied France, which you did with your best friend's stuffed rabbit. You’ve had one boyfriend whose name was Joe. Your dad left when you were nine. You don’t like hospitals or doctors and you hum to fill every silence. Your oldest brother, Will, taught you to fly on the weekends if you got good grades at school, which you think is the only reason you didn’t flunk out, and you like to think it’s a secret but actually everyone knows you read romance novels in your spare time.

“You grew up in Berkshire in a town which is said to be the oldest in England. Your favourite class at school was math, your least favourite was French, you wanted to learn piano growing up but your family didn’t have the money. You have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen and you use it a lot more than you think you do, which is one of my favourite things about you. You laugh harder at my stupid jokes than my good ones. You’re loyal and brave and kinder than you think you are, and you think you’re arrogant but you’re really, really not. You don’t like yourself enough to be arrogant.”

His voice grew softer as he lost steam. “I know you always think you’re the best at everything and you always think you’re the smartest person in the room - which you are, by the way.” He sighed, releasing all the tension in his body with that one exhale, releasing all the hope. “And I know I love you, Stels. I love you. And you can’t take that away from me.” All the strength had faded from his voice. His posture had deflated. “Even if you don’t love me back.”

It was a split second decision. Stella knew she couldn’t afford to take longer than that. And he was so tall she had to push right up onto her tiptoes and she still wasn’t tall enough so she had to take hold of the back of his neck and tug his head down.

But the second her lips met his she knew she’d made the right decision.

Because, yes, if the Gestapo decided to send her away from here it would only make it harder on John. But, fuck it, what about her? She had a life too. She loved him too. And if she did end up being sent away to the worst of all her fears then she had to do this now. Never again would she get the chance. If the end of her life was coming she wanted to meet it with as few regrets as possible. If she was going to stare death in the face she wanted to do it knowing what John Egan’s lips felt like.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Stella wasn’t sure whether she’d intended it to be. But the second their lips made contact they were frenzied, hands pawing and grasping and tugging and yanking. They were pressed together and it still wasn’t close enough.

He was gentle when he pressed her back into the wall, but he pressed her into it so insistently it was like he was trying to make the both of them fall through.

His hair in her hands was so soft, just as silky as she’d dreamed it would be. His breath was warm, his tongue was fast, his hands were unabashed and unashamed as he used them to keep her close.

“John,” Stella gasped between long, life-altering kisses. “John.”

“Stels,” he grumbled in reply.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, which was about as long of a sentence as he would allow her to get out, about as long as he would let her spend away from his lips. “I’m sorry,” she repeated the next time she found an opening.

He hummed into the kiss he gave her next.

Stella wanted to smile, knowing he wasn’t even listening, didn’t even care that she’d told him she didn’t love him only minutes before.

“John,” she began, gasping for breath as he pulled away and diverted his attention to her neck. “John, I’m sorry, I love you, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, I -”

“You do?” His eyes were wide and wild in the darkness, disbelieving as he lifted his head from her neck and peered down at her. “Stels,” he breathed.

She smiled, bright and fond, twining her fingers through his hair. When she kissed him again it was sweeter, the gentle press of her lips against his, maybe just a little bit shy now that he knew what it meant.

“I love you,” she whispered when she withdrew, now that she knew she had his attention. She didn’t need to hide from his eyes this time. She was telling the truth.

“Stels,” he said again.

Stella’s smile was reverential. She couldn’t find it within herself to care about how dopey she must have looked. “I love you,” she whispered so quietly she may as well not have spoken at all.

But he read the words on her lips and smiled anyway, wide and sure, blinding and beautiful, the prettiest smile she’d ever seen.

That smile. God, that smile. She had been dreaming about that smile. She wanted to taste that smile for the rest of her life.

She kissed him again because she wanted to and she didn’t care right now about anything else.

John certainly wasn’t complaining. He helped them both to resume their lost rhythm easily, used his hands on her waist to spin them until it was him leaning back against the wall, guided her to lean all of her weight into him.

This kiss went on and on. It must have almost been curfew. But how were they supposed to spend the whole night in the same bed and not capitalise on this new intimacy they now shared? It would be impossible to go back and pretend they hadn’t just given themselves over to each other like this.

They exchanged breathless I-love-yous over and over again by the light of the stars. It was more than Stella had ever allowed herself to dare to wish might one day be hers.

This night. This man. It was all so much a dream.

“I want to love you forever,” Stella breathed, her forehead pressed to his, his nose tucked up beside hers. “For as long as forever is.”

John’s answering smile was wide and uncontained. “You’re gonna have to,” he informed her, “‘cause I’m not letting you go.”

Stella laughed and she pushed away the worry that he might have to. Because he also might not.

As she leaned against him, letting him press kisses to every inch of her face, giggling and holding on tightly to him, she recalled, somewhat distantly now, a request made to her by the spy she’d flown into France on her twenty-third birthday. “Do something this year that really fucking scares you,” he’d said, and she’d promised him she would. It was only now, she realised, that she’d properly been able to live up to the promise she’d made him.

He’d told her to “make it fucking count”. She hoped one day to be able to tell him that, in spite of the fury of fate working against her, she had.

[neutron-stars-collision]

This is uncanny resemblance

[gracieheartspedro]

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

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

desperate people find faith

summary: your first mission ends with you in Jean's lab and a very worried Logan who's had trouble leaving your side wc: 2.0k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your very positive feedback on the previous fics with these two!!! I am really looking forward to writing more for them, so please feel free to send any requests for them my way, or Logan requests in general! And yes, the title is from a Taylor Swift song again. Lots of hurt/comfort in this one, talks of mushy gushy feelings, very worried Logan find the previous part here! all empath!reader fics here!

You took the cold table underneath you as a sign that something had gone wrong. You peaked one eye open before quickly squeezing it closed, the bright florescent lights too much to handle. You took a beat, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 

You remembered the jet landing in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, you and Jean searching an abandoned building looking for the young mutant that Charles had promised would be there and coming up empty. The two of you had made your way back to the jet and.. shit. The kid had freaked, and you distinctly remember taking enough damage to warrant a swift retreat back to the school. You must be downstairs, in Jean’s lab. It’s probably a bad sign that the first thing you worry about how much shit Logan is going to give you for this. 

You reached out with your power, too cautious of the lights (and the judgment of the rest of the team) to look with your eyes. A few people were mildly worried just across the room, but it was hard not to be distracted by the huge amounts of anger and exhaustion on your left. You debated facing him head on, being a grown up about it and fessing up to the fact that you were wrong. Thankfully, you could be immature when the situation called for it. You attempted to even out your breathing and smooth out the crease between your eyebrows, anything that could give you away. 

“Sweetheart?” Logan’s voice is so much softer than you were expecting, based on the waves of pure fury currently radiating off of him. 

You shush him, blinking one eye open. “I’m sleeping.” You whisper, letting your eye fall shut again. 

You felt his hand gently brush over the top of your head. His voice is closer, air tickling your ear as he leans down beside you. “Been sleeping for three days, bub. Need you to wake up now.” 

You turn your head to the side and are treated to Logan dropping a small kiss on your forehead. You can’t help but smile at the affection, eyes half open against the bright lights. After a few moments, they dim. Jean takes her place on the other side of the table, lab coat on and stethoscope in hand. You expected her to shoo Logan away in the name of a more thorough analysis but she doesn’t even attempt it. 

Logan’s hand finds your own, gripping tight enough to be just short of uncomfortable. Jean makes quick work of taking your diagnostics, and gently informs you that besides feeling fatigued, you are just fine. 

That can’t be right. 

You know that you caught the brunt of the impact, it was beginning to come back to you. The young mutant had lashed out, and before you’d had the chance to get close, he’d sent a car flying towards you and Jean. She’d managed to counteract it with her own mutation, firmly shoving you out of the way. But she hadn’t been fast enough to catch the small metal spikes he’d also thrown. There was no way you should be ‘just fine’ by now. 

Either Jean was in your head or the confusion was showing clearly on your face. She gave you a tight smile, eyes darting between you and the door. She took a few steps back, clearly intent of making her exit. “Jean, wait, there’s no way-”

She gave you her please stop talking smile. “I think it’s best if this comes from him,” she nodded at Logan, placing her stethoscope and clipboard on the side table. “I’ll be back in a bit to do one final check before we clear you.” She gives you another smile that didn’t meet her eyes, and then she was gone. 

You began to sit up slowly, still in shock that there was little to no pain, only stiffness from being immobile for too long. “What is she talking about?” Logan huffed, supporting you with a hand on your back. “What’s going on?” 

One hand made long, slow strokes up and down your spine, while the other had not loosened it’s grip on your own since you’d woken up. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the tell tale sign of his thinking face. You tried your best not to rush him, but everything about the situation was so confusing and your mind was racing. You were far too healed, and he was being far too calm for the anger that was rolling off go him, still. 

“Didn’t expect me to just sit around when you came back one foot in the grave, did ya?” 

“I’m sorry if me coming back banged up gave you extra work, I just don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.” 

His eyes went wide, the hand on your back stilling. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” The tremble in his voice almost had you convinced. 

“Don’t lie to me about it,” you help up your hand, still firmly entwined with his. “I can tell.” 

“I’m notmad at you, bub.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips, peppering it with kisses. “I’m mad at the little fuck who did this to you, I’m mad that they let this happen, and I’m furious with myself that I wasn’t there.” 

“He’s just a kid, Logan.” 

His shoulders shook with silent laughter, a stark white dancing at the edge of his emotions now. Shock. “You almost died, and your first instinct is to defend the little asshole responsible.” 

You leaned forward, bumping your shoulder against his chest in warning. “I feel fine.” He nodded, taking a deep breath in through his nose while his hand not currently locked with yours resumed it’s path up and down your back. You let it go on for a few moments, appreciating the silence and the grounding effect of his touch. “Do you… wanna fill me in on why exactly that is?” 

He sucked in a breath, shoulders visibly tense. “We were lucky that Hank was stopping by for a visit.” He played with your fingers, distracting himself. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why that information was important at a time like this. “When they brought you in, god there was so much blood. Jean managed to take care of a lot of it, but she didn’t know when, or uh, if you were going to wake up.” He blew out a breath, steadying himself. “You know that Hank has been asking for a long time-”

Both of your hands gripped his tightly. “Tell me you didn’t.” 

Hank had been asking for ages to use some of Logan’s blood to synthesize a more advanced healing serum for the X-Men. It was rare they came back with more than bumps and bruises, but he was a worrier and felt that Logan was the key to making something truly effective. The only problem? Logan hated needles. You’d only gotten bits and pieces from him about why, but you had a hunch that when you were alive for as long as he had been, people were willing to poke and prod for some answers. He’d never admit it, but you had felt how terrified he was the last time he’d been down hard after a mission, and Jean had tried to give him an IV of fluids to speed up the regeneration. It hadn’t ended well, to say the least. 

“I should’ve done it sooner. Seeing you like this, knowing I could have done something about it.” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. 

Cautiously, you fit yourself against him, arms tight around his neck and your chest flush with his own. You half expected him to reprimand you, to remind you that you should be careful, not to move too much. Instead, he held you tightly, the side of his face pressed against the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a good long while, reveling in the comfort of the other. 

“I know you think that you only did it because,” you paused, steeling yourself. “Because it was me.” You can feel him trying to pull away, but you mold yourself to him even more tightly, knowing that if he really wanted to he could break away from you like it was nothing. “You’re wrong. You would have done this for anyone.” 

“Except for-”

“Even for Scott.” You were quick to cut him off, unwilling to hear him being so harsh on himself.

You pulled back, just enough so that you were able to meet his eyes. You needed him to know that you are being earnest. “You are a good man, Logan. And before you even try to deny it or say I’m lying I know you can hear my heart beat. And I know you can tell when people are lying. And besides, I’ve never ever lied to you, have I?” He shakes his head slowly, one tear falling, and a few more after that. You reached up, brushing them away. He grabbed your hand, gently placing a kiss on your wrist, and then your palm. 

“Y’scared me, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice muffled by your palm still against his lips. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

You slide your hand to cup the side of his face, prompting him to meet your gaze. “You know I can’t guarantee that.” His eyes closed for a moment, and you knew he was doing his best not to shout. “I will always be careful, but I can’t stay back and leave the work to everyone else. If I can help, I’m gonna help.” 

His eyes narrowed, the tiniest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Fine. But we’re getting you trained up and you aren’t going out there without me again for a good long while.” 

You rolled your eyes, the both of you well aware there was no ill will behind it. “If you insist.” 

“I absolutely do.” He pulled you back into his chest, keeping you there until Jean peaked her head in through the door. 

“If you two are done being mushy, there are a few people who have been dying to see you.” 

Ororo rushed into the room, playfully shoving Logan away to scoop you into her arms. She gently checked you over, ignoring the fact that you’d already had several medical professionals on the case. Scott clasped you on the shoulder, reassuring you that for a first mission, this was a success. You laughed before shooting Logan a look that begged him to let it pass. He huffed, but nodded all the same. 

“Shocked we didn't have to keep him from trying to tear the kid apart, but he refused to leave the lab.” Scott nodded his head at Logan, who was continuing to shuffle closer to the table where you sat. 

Well, you would be dutifully ignoring the latter half of Scott's quip, instead choosing to focus on the young mutant. “You mean he's?” 

Scott smiled, nodding. “He’s settling in upstairs.” 

You grinned, glad to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing. You fixed your gaze on Logan, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t even think about failing him out of history as some kind of weird revenge, I’ll know and I will find a way to get back at you for it.” 

Your friends laughed around you, let you know that Charles has ordered in your favorite take out for dinner and started to filter out of the room. Eventually, you and Logan are left alone again, sitting side by side on the metal table. 

“You still owe me an important conversation, ya know.” You bump your shoulder against his. You stay there, pressed against his side with your head leaning on his shoulders. His hand rests on your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Maybe wait until you aren’t in a hospital gown, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes, clearly aware that he was deflecting, but still content to take in his warmth and quiet support. You were safe, and you were home. Not just at school, but with him.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ THE FIRST FALL OF SNOW

Pro Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight in the public’s eye, is finally on his way home. The moment he clocked out, he was Bakugou Katsuki.

The apartment door swung open, and Bakugou trudged inside, every step weighed down by the exhaustion of the day. His back ached from the relentless action-packed hours at work (somehow, during the holidays, villains were at their peak action), and the chill of winter clung to his skin, even through the layers of his winter gear earlier. He’d been looking forward to collapsing onto the bed and shutting the world out for the rest of the night.

He let out a grunt of frustration, yanking his scarf off as he called out, “I’m home.”

Bakugou was greeted by your voice. Too chipper, as if you had something planned.

“Perfect timing! Go change into something warm; we’re going out!” you said, a spark of excitement lighting up your tired features. You had on your favorite scarf and coat, your cheeks flushed from the cold air that must’ve blown in while you’d been waiting for him.

Bakugou frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re kidding, right? It’s freezing, and I just got home.”

“I’m not kidding.” Your smile widened, undeterred by your husband’s gruffness. “You need to relax, and I need to check out the sale on the market. We’re going downtown, just for a little bit. Please?”

“No,” he scoffs.

“Come on, Katsuki,” you pleaded. “You’re always working, and I’ve been stuck inside all day. Just a quick trip downtown to relax. Please?” You pouted slightly as you repeated the request, though your tone remained playful, knowing it would chip away at his defenses.

“Can’t we relax here? You know, like normal people?”

“Normal is boring. We can relax after we go out and see the town. Please? I’ll make dinner when we get back!”

Dammit, you knew how to pull at his strings.

Bakugou groaned, tugging at the tight fabric of his jacket. He hated the cold, hated the thought of walking around aimlessly in weather that bit at his skin. But as he looked at you—your hopeful expression, the way your eyes sparkled with the promise of something simple yet special—he sighed, already knowing he couldn’t refuse.

Knowing he’d already lost, he crossed his arms. He’d always had a soft spot for you (you must’ve put a curse on him once he gave you his valid “I do” at the altar, he thinks), and no amount of exhaustion could override the tug in his chest when you looked at him like that.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re carrying the hot chocolate if we get any.”

Your grin was instant, and you tugged at his arm. “Deal. Now hurry up and get dressed into something warmer before I change my mind.”

---

The streets of Musutafu were already in the holiday spirit, and it was only the first of December. The glow of streetlights reflected off frosted windows, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts wafted through the air—it was a scent to appreciate. Bakugou’s hands were stuffed deep in his pockets, his scarf pulled high over his face, as he grumbled every so often about the cold or his aching shoulders.

“This better be worth it,” he grumbled, kicking a stray piece of ice off the sidewalk.

“It is worth it,” you countered, practically skipping beside him. “You’ve been so stressed lately, and this is exactly what you need—some fresh air and a change of scenery.”

“I’d rather have fresh air from our bedroom.”

You shot him a playful glare. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, and you’re a pain,” he shot back, though his lips twitched upward just slightly.

It’s also a good thing that not many were wanting his autograph or a picture because Bakugou was not in the mood to entertain anyone aside from you.

You led him to a small square near the center of town, where festive decorations were strung across trees and lampposts. Children bundled up in cute, thick winter clothes ran around as their fits of giggles filled the air, and vendors sold warm snacks and drinks from cozy stalls. You tugged him toward one of the benches, your excitement bubbling over.

“Look at this place! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Bakugou looked around, taking in the bustling scene. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that it wasn’t half bad—but he’d never say it out loud. Instead, he just shrugged. “It’s alright.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible to impress.”

“Not true,” he said, smirking slightly. “You impressed me.”

“Ok, sap,” you snorted, though you were quick to hide how it made you feel all giddy. “And did you know that—”

And Bakugou could only listen to you with his brows slightly knitted to an unamused expression, though he didn’t want to burst your bubble even if he was exhausted.

Without even noticing at first, the first snowflake fell, soft and delicate, landing on your scarf. You stopped mid-sentence, glancing up as more began to drift down, tiny, icy kisses from the sky. Bakugou paused too, his eyes narrowing as a flake landed on his nose.

“It’s snowing,” you murmured, a note of wonder in your voice.

Bakugou squinted up at the sky, unimpressed. “Great. Now it’s even colder.”

You ignored him, stepping slightly into the open square, your head tilted back as you let the snowflakes land on your hair and cheeks. Your face lit up with childlike wonder, and for a moment, Bakugou was suddenly reminded how lucky he was to be married to you.

Bakugou watched you silently, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. You looked radiant, the soft glow of the snow reflecting off your skin, your cheeks flushed from the cold. Your lips parted slightly as you caught a snowflake on your tongue, and you laughed softly at the sensation.

His chest tightened, his earlier complaints fading into nothing. The aches, the cold, his uncomfortable winter clothes—none of it mattered. All he saw was you.

You turned back to him, your smile warm and teasing. “You’re just going to stand there and sulk, or are you going to enjoy this with me?”

He huffed, walking toward you. “I’m not sulking,” he muttered.

“Sure, sure.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “Come on, Katsuki. Isn’t this beautiful?”

He looked at you, at the way your eyes shimmered with glee, the way you smiled despite the cold nipping at their noses. “Yeah,” he said softly, surprising even himself. He’s most likely referring to you rather than the scene before him, more likely. “It is.”

“Wait, are you actually admitting you like something?”

“So? I like you, and we’re married. It’s not that shameful to admit the obvious, dummy.” He grumbled, though his hand tightened around yours.

“Not that! I meant it’s snowing; isn’t it beautiful?”

“Could care less about shaved ice falling from the sky.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and Bakugou did the same, which made you laugh.

You two stood there for a while, watching the snow fall around you, the rest of the world fading into the background. For once, Bakugou wasn’t thinking about work, stress, or anything else. All he could focus on was the woman beside him and how, for the first time in a long time, everything felt just right.

And even though Bakugou still hated the cold, he found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, winter wasn’t so bad after all—because it meant moments like this. Moments with you.

It must’ve been Christmas magic to see you during the first fall of snow, taking his breath away with how you looked, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything this damned world had to offer.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. "Shut up, mom!" prank with JJK men PART 2

➜ featuring: higuruma hiromi, ryomen sukuna and fushiguro toji

➜synopsis: your child(ren) has a death wish for sure.

➜note: sorry for the long wait! it's here at last :)

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

༉‧₊˚. HIGURUMA HIROMI

Your husband was a busy man. You and your daughter could count the days he spent at home with the two of you–lazily snuggling his two favorite girls on the couch as you rewatch your favorite family movie (he claims that Encanto isn’t his favorite but he has memorized all the songs). So what better way to spice up the day than by pranking your favorite man?

“Sweetie, what did I say about tissues on the kitchen counter?”

“Huh?” your daughter’s annoyed tone makes Higuruma look up from his phone with a quirked eyebrow. “Oh yeah, whatever I just forgot.”

“I said it many times before. I don’t like tissues on the kitchen counter.”

“Oh would you just drop it?” your daughter sighs, annoyed. She gets up from the dining table and makes her way around the couch, walking past her dad. “You’re always making a big deal out of shit like that.”

“Huh-”

“Hey? Don’t use that kind of language with me–”

“Just shut up already!” 

In the blink of an eye, Higuruma’s phone dropped from his hand and he stood up from the couch, nostrils flared and body seething with anger.

“What did you just say?” 

“Dad-”

“Did you just tell your mother to shut up?” You feel bad for making your daughter witness this side of her dad, but she’s quick to give her nervous giggle with her hands up to her chest. 

“Dad, it’s a prank! I promise!” 

“Honey, it’s a prank.” It’s comedic the way his eyes go from almost bulging out of his skull, to deflating like a balloon. He heaves out a sigh he doesn’t know he was holding and drops his head.

“What part of this prank seemed funny to either of you?”

“Mom said she liked it when you were protective of her–”

“Why are you exposing your mother like that!” 

“You made me the target of his anger!” 

༉‧₊˚. RYOMEN SUKUNA

“Where are the brats?” Sukuna’s voice is flat as he walks into the kitchen. Dinner was served, and yet his twin boys were nowhere to be seen. “Still upstairs?” 

“Yeah, I called for them earlier but they don’t want to get off that damn console.” You sigh in defeat, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’ll try again, wait.” 

Sukuna lets you handle this by yourself and takes a seat by the dining table. He watches intently as you make your way upstairs and then a minute later, a fight ensues. Loud voices and the sound of doors slamming can be heard, which makes your husband’s eye twitch. 

“I told you to take out the trash and you said no! I tell you dinner is ready and you say leave me alone?” you continue to complain as you walk down the stairs, your tall teenage boys right behind you, sporting the same scowl as their dad’s. 

“Why are you being overdramatic? I told you I’ll do it later!”

“I want you to do it now, the kitchen reeks!”

“That’s a you problem, woman.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Would you just let it go? Just shut u–!”

Your twin boy doesn’t get to finish his sentence before your husband is pushing his chair back, aura as dangerous as ever. You’ve seen Sukuna angry before, you’ve seen him in all of his states but this one was by far the scariest.

“Brat.” 

Sukuna doesn’t let his son finish his sentence before he takes off his wedding ring and places it on the dining table. “Let’s go outside. You and I.”

“Wha–”

“You eat dinner without us and you–” he points at the troublesome one of the pair. “Will get to eat if you beat me.”

“But dad–”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

“Babe,” you step between your fuming husband and his son, hands caressing his chest. “Calm down, it’s fine–”

“Get out of the way, woman.” he says with a snarl, but you can feel his body relax under your touch.

“But it was just a prank.”

“A prank?” Now you’re scared for your life. “Who told you that shit is funny? You like being disrespected?” 

“No, but I like seeing you angry,”

“Oh I’ll show you what I can do when I’m angry.”

“We are quite literally right here.”

“Then leave.”

“Babe!” 

༉‧₊˚. FUSHIGURO TOJI

“Megumi, do you want some?” You’re in the car on your way back from a party that one of your friends has thrown for her toddler when you turn to your own kid with some cake. “It’s your favorite.” 

“No.” 

“No?” Toji notices your frown and his son’s unusual attitude towards you but says nothing, eyes fixated on the road. “Well okay,” 

You heave out a sigh, biting back a smile as you look out the window. Toji locks eyes with his own through the rearview mirror and the child looks away almost immediately. What’s up with his attitude today?

The moment you walk into the house, you’re taking off Megumi’s shoes who’s still doing a pretty good job at pretending to be having an attitude and he makes his way to the kitchen where he grabs the box of cookies which he knows he’s not allowed near. 

“Gumi, no.”

“I want one.”

“After dinner, okay?” the six year old boy huffs and puffs and when you take the box away from him, he pretends to throw a fit as he starts to make his way upstairs.

“Go to the bathroom, I gotta give you a bath before eating.”

“Shut up!” You don’t know where Toji was, you don’t feel him behind you until you see him storm towards the stairs. All you hear is loud thuds on the wooden floor and your heart is in your throat.

“Fucking brat,” he mumbles under his breath. “What the fuck did you just tell your mom?” 

“Toji–”

“She wanted to prank you.” Megumi confesses almost immediately, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “She told me that you look ‘hot’ when you’re mad so she wanted to test something.” 

You stand there, dumbfounded and flustered at how fast your kid exposed you. Suddenly, you feel small as you feel Toji turn around and stare down at you with his dark eyes. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm. She also said that she will call uncle Satoru to come take me after–”

“Megumi!” 

COMMISSIONS

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[mrsriddlenott]

~ BET ~

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader(kinda implied kook)

Warnings: Smut, Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Edging, lil bit of Daddy Kink, d/s Dynamics, Creampie, Papa Jay. Kinda Proofread.

Please point out any mistakes

{masterlist}

————

JJ hadn’t even considered how difficult NNN would be, when the idea came up between him, John B, and Pope he thought it would be the easiest 40 bucks he had ever made. He didn’t need to finish to have fun, he could make you come undone with two fingers, easy. However, he gravely underestimated how much you needed him to be inside you, no matter how many times he had you cumming on his fingers and tongue in a day, he would still have to hold back through all of your begging that night.

JJ hadn’t noticed how much he spoiled you until now, he would have you underneath him or between him and a wall every day, sometimes twice if he could. And you had gotten used to that treatment. “But what about me Jay?” You pouted, looking up to him with those big, sad eyes when you came to the Chateau that night, and he knew he messed up. There was no way he was gonna make it because he didn’t realize he had you addicted to his cock until you were already fiending for it. All on account of his stupid bet.

And it just got harder from there.

Your lips grazed against the back of his neck, your hands feeling the tense muscles in his lower back as they danced across his skin, “Please Jay, I can’t wait, I want you now,” JJ held back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut when your hands made there way around to his front, hidden under his shirt where your fingers traced down his happy trail, testing him and pushing him further. He felt himself twitch in his cargo shorts, hardening almost immediately as your scent surrounded him, the feeling of your soft fingers almost sending him over the edge.

“It’s only day one Gorgeous, don’t test me.” He stated, his hands stopping yours when your fingers began playing with the button on his shorts as if they had a mind of their own. You groan behind him, retracting your arms and the warmth that came with them from around him, crossing them over your chest teasingly.

“You know I won’t tell them if you crack Jay, they would never know.” He sighed, head falling back before turning to watch you walk away from him, the sassy little swing in your hips almost making him jump at the offer. Almost.

But, his rejection sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying, if anything it egged you on further.

————

“What if I just sit on it Jay, I’ll warm you and when you’re about to cum I’ll get off Baby, I promise.” JJ chuckled at the desperate tone in your voice from below you, his head leant against the back of the couch displaying his Adam’s apple that bounced up and down every time your hips moved against him again. “Please Jay, I wanna feel you.”

“Nuh uh Princess, I know you can’t control yourself,” He laughed through a groan, the desperation of his voice making you speed up, proving him right. The friction building between you two becoming too much for him, your hips speeding up even more to chase the high he can’t have. He watches your chest rise and fall quicker as you drop your head into his shoulder, whining in his ear the closer you get to your release. You can feel him twitching against your clothed cunt every time you clench against nothing.

“Can you feel how wet I am for you through my underwear Jay?” His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, he’s testing himself now seeing how close he can get to the edge before he stops himself. Part of him just wants to let it happened, but he can’t lose in the first week, he would never hear the end of it, “Fuck Baby I am so sorry.” He groaned into your neck, tugging you up by your hips, moving to the side and aggressively pushing you down to reconnect with his thigh.

His large hands keep your rhythm when you falter, pushing you and tugging you against his thigh, pulling whines from your throat and making you twitch in his lap. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging on it uncontrollably while the band in your abdomen tightens. Your slick coats his leg forcing him to bite into your shoulder to control himself, whining into your flesh every time your knee brushes his tip, edging himself even further. You stutter and gasp, twitching against his thigh and soaking his shorts, his hands slow with your hips speed. Your watery eyes looked to him and his dick strained against his zipper further.

“You’re taking this so seriously, if I wasn’t so pissed at you I’d actually be kind of proud,” Your voice was breathy and came out strained, your glossy eyes held onto his, the little pout you had making him twitch and groan.

“I’m pissed at myself too,” He sighed, letting his head fall back into the crook of your neck, “I’ll tell ya’ what, if JB breaks soon, I’ll let Pope win and then you can ride me all you want Mama.”

“Really?! For me?” You squeak, so excited you would be embarrassed if you weren’t with JJ, “Fuck you’re amazing you know that?” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers tangle into his hair again. Your soaked panties rubbing against his still hard cock, mixed with the sting your nails left at the base of skull forcing a whimper from his throat, and you know right then there is no way he is lasting the whole month.

————

“Cleo just texted me and Sarah, she broke Pope,” You giggled, typing away on your phone, his blue eyes watching you more intently than usual, just as they had been for the last ten days, “I kinda thought he would beat you both honestly.” You stated, tossing your phone beside you on the bed he made his before crawling over his thighs, his semi-hard cock already pressing against your entrance when you settle. He was so used to fucking you every night before you both slept in each other’s arms, that his body seemed to be prepared for it. Every time he looked at you recently he felt like he was about to bust, he was never doing this again. He decided he wouldn’t even be taking a trip without you ever again.

“Do you wanna fuck me now Jay?” Your breath fans across his ear and JJ bangs his head against the bed frame with a groan, your lips trail down the warm, salty skin on his neck stopping at the spot he loved the most and licking a stripe back up to his ear. You were desperate he could tell, and he absolutely loved it, and hated not being able to take care of it.

“Baby, you know I said if JB breaks….” He sighs into your skin, “Now I gotta win Princess, especially now that I know you thought I would lose.”

“Nooo, Jay, you can not imagine how horny I have been without you inside me,” you whined against the shell of his ear, exaggerating your neediness only a bit to try and get him to crack, “I won’t tell, not even Sarah.”

“Oh but Baby, that’s not winnin’,” He tsked, grabbing your cheeks, tugging your pouting face away and forcing eye contact, “If you wait I’ll use the bet money on anything you want.”

“I jus’ want you Daddy please.” You gripped his shoulders, thinking you knew exactly what the nickname would get you. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip as you began to rock your hips slightly, wanting him to finally give you what you want.

“Oh so that’s what you’re gon’ do huh?” His head tilted, slipping into his more dominant personality on instinct, his jaw twitching, his large hand gripping your hair in a flash, tugging it back and exposing your neck to him, “You can’t play that card and win Princess you know I’m in charge here.” He whispered into the flesh of your neck before his lips began their assault, sending a shiver down your spine and heating your abdomen even more than it had been.

“Do you want me to make it even worse for you Gorgeous,” he teased, “You can join me in this bet if that’s what you really want? I’ll bring you right up to the edge,” he whispered, his free hand slowly falling into your shorts to tease the hem of your underwear, “And then pull you right back with me.” He finished with a chuckle, snapping his hand out of your shorts, leaving you whining and wiggling against him.

“That’s no fair, you always make me cum, even when you’re mad.” You lean away from him and he lets you, resting you on his thighs before crossing your arms across your chest in the teasing way you know he likes. Shoving your breasts together right in his face, playing up the bratty attitude to get what you want.

“I make you cum when you’re good, and since you chose to pull out the Daddy card when you know damn well I can’t slip out of control until I finish,” He sighed between his words, eyes bouncing between your eyes and cleavage, controlling himself before he just fucks you right now, “Now you need to deal with his consequences.”

Your smile grows on your face, giggling at his words before you speak, “Okay, okay, I did do it on purpose but only because I need you so much.”

“Ah ah ah,” The teasing tone of his voice knocks your smile right off your face and you know you messed up, “I am dead serious, you’re stuck now Sweetness, you fucked up and now Papa Jay is gonna get what he wants. If you don’t act right I am gonna watch you beg for release every singe time I wanna fuckin’ cum until I can, do you understand me?”

Your eyebrows squeeze together, watching his face for a sign of hesitation, but the dominance stays. You whine as you wiggle your way off his legs to lat beside him, scowling at him before turning your back to him and laying down for bed. “If you change your mind in the middle of the night don’t hesitate to….wake me up, but only if you wanna fuck me awake.” You tease, wiggling your hips to poke out your pantie clad ass cheeks his direction.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that in the morning Gorgeous,” He laughed, slotting himself behind you in the dark, his arm pulling you into him and moaning in your ear at the feeling of your ass against his tightening boxers. You wiggled against him, pushing into him as he pushes back, his large hand splayed out on your lower abdomen tugging you impossibly closer. In one quick motion his leg locks against yours and his arms tighten around you, halting your movements as he speaks into your ear.

“Goodnight Baby, I love you so fucking much,” He growls into your ear, halting for a second to nip at your flesh before continuing, “and when I win this bet I am gonna give you the best dick of your life I promise you.” You whine again, desperately trying to run your thighs together for some type of friction.

“I love you too Jay, but I still want it now.” You huff, stopping your feeble attempts at movement at his soft, sleepy laugh behind you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He says with a yawn before you’re both slipping into a restless, sweaty sleep tangled together.

————

Your phone lights up beside you on your bedside table, prompting you to grab it and read Sarah’s message in the group chat made for your fellow victims of NNN. “Fuck yes.” You whispered under your breath as you typed out your response, letting them both know your man was the winner. The smile grew bigger on your face when your eyes met JJ’s as he entered your bedroom, his shirt was discarded, allowing your eyes to trace the drops of water left behind after he brushed his teeth as they make a pathway through his chiseled abs.

"See somethin' ya like?" He asks with a teasing smirk that widens into a grin when you toss your phone aside for him, sticking your arms out silently begging him to join you on the bed, wanting to finally feel his skin against yours again. He stalks towards your bed, eyes on you intently as you wiggle in excitement at his proximity,

"Who were you texting?" He asks, his voice deep and demanding, as though he would throw the bet away if you answered wrong.

You smile even wider at his question, "Sarah and Cleo." You state matter of factly, crawling towards JJ where he stands at the foot of the bed. His eyes follow your movements closely, taking notice of the fact that you had already shed your pants for bed. Your hips rocked teasingly the closer you got to him, your cleavage free of if it's usually confines was visible entirely from his angle above you. You stood on your knees proudly when you finally reacher him, drifting your hand across his chest, letting it slowly fall lower while he groans at the contact.

"If you stop right now I promise I will fuck you tomorrow whether John B breaks or not." He growls, dropping his head as though he was ashamed, gripping your hand to stop it's decent. He knew if he let it fall any further he would lose control. You only giggled in response, leaning your head up to reach his ear, leaving a trail of kisses and bites behind as you did so.

"You know JB already broke right?" You whisper even though you knew he didn't, giggling when JJ’s head shoots back into place immediately. His ears excitedly perked up at your words like a golden retriever, eyebrows furrowed as if to ask if you were lying to him.

"Really?" His voice comes out forced, loosening his grip on your hand and letting it continue it's pursuit past the hem of his boxers. Sighing at the contact of your cold fingers against the steaming temperature of his skin when he lets you wrap your fingers around his base.

"Yup, Sarah just texted me and Cleo, she got him, you won Baby," Your sultry voice in his ear sends tingles all over his body, "Do you want your prize Daddy?"

“Oh, fuck yes I do.” JJ was on you in seconds, shoving you hard down against your soft bed, maneuvering your body around so he could slot himself between your thighs where he belongs. His hand fell between your bodies, carelessly tugging the hem of his boxers down just enough to let himself spring free, not caring to grab a condom in his haste. He quickly uses two fingers to tug your underwear aside before sinking into fully in one thrust, a broken, strangled sigh escaping his lips as he immediately sets a slow pace. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut above you causing a wide, triumphant smile to to grow across your face.

“Yeah I am not gon’ last long, fuck.” He whines, dropping his head to groan against the flesh of your neck. Your hands find hold on his shoulders as you dig your nails into his back, marking him and holding on to your release as it builds for the first time in days. His lips latch onto your skin forcing you to moan his name, his pace picks up while he pushes himself up on one hand beside your head wanting to watch your face when you come undone for him. His free hand runs it’s way down your side to grip your hip and hold you steady while he thrusts into you. You can feel him against you as you clench around him, earning a strangled mix between a moan and a groan from JJ’s throat, his thrusts stuttering slightly before he regains his composure. You can feel how close he is, his tip hitting just the right spot every time but becoming frantic while his mumbled words become slightly incoherent.

“If you let me cum inside I’ll buy you Plan B.” JJ huffed out above you, his eyebrows crinkling in concentration, trying to hold himself back, his blue eyes getting lost in yours again. He didn’t want to pull out, he had edged himself too much and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. His eyes fell to where you connected, watching the way his dick thrusted in and out of you making a mess on the sheets below. You sucked him in so perfectly that he wanted to stay inside forever.

“No shit, I know you will.” Your fingers melt into his hair, tugging his eyes back up to yours while you speak, “You can cum in me whenever you want Jay.” Your moan mingles with your words, accentuated by his final, hardest thrust before he stutters and twitches inside of you, collapsing on top pf you while his warm cum fills you and leaks past him onto the bed.

Your nails tickle against his back, your other hand playing with his hair, content while you stay connected as your breathing comes back to normal. JJ’s face rests in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as he wraps his arms around you fully. “I may have only lasted 12 days Mama, but I won us 40 bucks.”

“Okayyy but 12 days is still impressive for us,” You respond with a chuckle, tugging his hair to force eye contact with you, “It could have been day one Jay ya’ know.” He groans, his eyes fluttering shut again as his hands begin to run their way up his shirt you so often wear to bed, pinching at your hardening nipples and watching your eyebrows furrow in response.

“Round two?” JJ asks, biting at his lip and staring up at you with desperate eyes. You can feel his cock beginning to harden inside of you, your walls tightening around him at the feeling.

“Well you did say I could ride you Daddy.” Your voice comes out in a beg and you watch JJ’s face as it changes into a dominant scowl despite your growing smile. His jaw ticks and his tongue pushes his cheek out slightly at your words. JJ shoves himself off of you leaving you feeling empty while he settles on his knees. His dick bounces proudly in front of him as he tugs your panties down your legs before ridding himself of his own. You waste no time in removing your shirt and watching his mouth water at the sight of your bare chest as you tug yourself impatiently onto his lap.

You sink onto him, filling yourself up again with a sigh as his cock hits every spot perfectly. You bounce on him, setting a steady pace that your thighs can handle. JJ however, knows how much of a pillow princess you are, preemptively dragging his hands down your sides and to your hips, squeezing them lightly to let you know he can take over whenever you want. Your lips crash into JJ’s in a messy kiss, your tongues battle as your breath mixes. Moaning in each other’s mouths while your hands find perch on his shoulders.

JJ’s lips fall to your jaw, groaning into his kisses, nipping at your neck every time you speed up or slow down. You whine in his ear, your fingers finding his hair and tugging at it as you slow, telling him to take control of you completely. JJ’s wicked smirk widens, his hands tightening on your hips, his lips falling to suck your nipple into his mouth and swirl his tongue against it. His finger nails dig into your flesh as he starts to bounce you against his thighs, making you whine and grind into him further. “Faster Jay please.”

“You like that Princess?” JJ teases, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his cock at a faster pace, “Do you like ridin’ Papa Jay Sweetheart?” He coos, tilting his head to watch you bounce on him, matching the pace he set as he thrusts up into you.

————

I think JJ is definitely the typa guy who talks ab himself in the 3rd person during sex😂

Idk how yall feel about Papa Jay but😮‍💨😮‍💨

[zweetpea]

Yandere batfam one shot/imagine thing

I'll probably make a part 2

You met Bruce while you were working as a waitress for a gala. It was a second job to pay rent. Maybe he brought Selina or some other girl or maybe he came alone.

Either way you two end up in a room together and end up sleeping together. Just as you’re pulling on your clothes he asks to see you again. He even offers you a check (let’s say it’s for 500k). You take the money promising to see him again but you don’t for about a year.

After a year of him searching every corner of Gotham he finally finds you. And surprise surprise you have a three month old baby girl.

He goes up to you and begs you to let him be in the baby’s life. After a few weeks of bribes (and him secretly stalking you) you finally make a deal with him. If he works from home he can take care of the baby during the day.

So you brought your baby to the Wayne Manor. You expected maybe a servant or maybe Bruce to answer the door. You were not expecting a young man to open the door. He had short shaggy black hair with an undercut and a K-pop hair style. He stared at you with his piercing blue eyes-

“Tim drake! That’s who you are! I used to love watching your let’s plays! I love your sense of humor!” Tim was surprised. Being the middle child (especially the middle boy) he often feels left behind by his siblings, so having someone notice his accomplishments for once felt nice.

“Drake. What are you looking-” a short boy came up behind the gamer. He had a darker complexion and slicked back black hair with piercing green eyes. You smiled at him and he straight up slammed the door in your and your baby’s face. Your eyes grew wide and your face fell into a scowl.

You heard shuffling from behind the door and when if opened you saw Tim holding the kid by the scruff of his collar as one would do with a misbehaving animal. “Sorry about that Miss.” Tim smiled at you. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m going to be late for work. Here give her to Bruce. Her name is Echo.” You give the baby to Tim. “Oh there you go. Support her head now.” You threw the bag in the small rude kids face. “Everything she needs is in there. I’ve left instructions inside for how to take care of her. If she doesn’t eat that much try tickling her tummy. I’ve labeled the extra bottles of her food so if she’s really hungry give her some and if it’s not enough call me I’ll get here as soon as I can. I don’t want her drinking any of that store bought crap. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” Tim smiled.

“Good.” You ruffled his hair. Then you turned to the younger boy. “Be good to my baby ya hear? Or else I’ll milk papa Bruce for every penny I can.” You ruffled his hair too. You then kissed your baby and went back to your car.

Tim shut the door and immediately Echo started crying. Bruce and Alfred came running at the noise.

“No… I missed her.” Bruce said. He looked at his three youngest kids. “Hey sweetheart.” Bruce tried to grab Echo. But Tim held her close. Everyone looked at him surprised.

“Father why did that rude lady drop off a baby.” Damian scowled.

“She’s not rude. She’s your future Step Mother.” Bruce smiled at the thought of your and his wedding. “Now Tim, give my baby here. She’s crying.”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” Bruce seemed flabbergasted.

“She trusted me to hold her child. This is my baby sister.”

“Drake! Give father the baby. She’s being loud.” Damian covered his ears. Echo looked over at him and made a grabby hand gesture at him.

“It looks like she wants Master Damian’s attention.” Alfred pointed out.

“but-” Tim was cut off as Damian took the baby.

Echo’s cries grew quiet as her youngest older sibling held her. While Tim’s obsession with You and Echo became apparent almost immediately, giving him the praise his own family and the Media refused to, Damian’s was slow. It started with someone (echo) actually liking him. After all he went from being showered in attention under Talia’s thumb to being practically ignored at Wayne Manor.

Dick was by far the kindest to Damian, being a mentor to the young boy. But he could still bite back at Damian’s snark. Barbara and Stephanie took none of his crap, to the point where they barely spoke to him. Cass and Duke held no qualms about fighting with a kid. Jason was like a cool big brother and while he wasn’t at the manor often he always made most of his time there focused on the kid. Tim and Damian had a very strained relationship. And while Bruce loves Damian there’s always a bit of strain, and guilt on Bruce’s part. If he’d stayed with Talia maybe Damian wouldn’t have to grow up in a cesspool of Violence and mental agony.

“Back to your old ways of not wearing protection father?” Damian smirked.

“Damian… give me my Daughter.” Bruce said gently but firmly.

“Its nice to know you fought for her more than you fought for me. Though to be fair to you Ummi did shove us together.” He snarked as he held the baby who’d fallen asleep. Bruce went to grab her but Damian stepped back. “Ah ta ta. You wouldn’t want to disturb her right?” Damian smirked.

Over the next few hours Damian was mainly the one taking care of Echo if only to stop her from crying.

And at the end of the day when you finally got off work to pick up your sweet baby you were surprised to see Bruce, Damian, and Tim all playing with her in the living room. (What was more surprising was that her attention was mainly focused on the brat from this morning Damian.) She cooed as she saw you and you rushed to pick her up and gather her things into her bag.

Damian glared at you as you took Echo from his borderline iron clad grip. Who were you to take his sister, his blood sister mind you, away form him? (Her mother but we're not going to get into that right now.)

"Sweetness how about you just slow down. I'll have Alfred prepare you a drink. Which kind of tea do you like more Earl Gray or Jasmine." Bruce smiled and twiddled a piece of your hair in his hand.

You smacked his hand away. "No thank you. My baby and I need to get home." You said and quickly hurried out of there.

"Father you can't let her leave!" Damian said.

"Yeah! Don't you want that nice lady to be your wife?" Tim agreed.

"I was talking about Echo." Damian deadpanned.

Bruce ruffled both their heads. "Patience boys. Have a little faith in your old man." He smiled as you walked away. Before the month was out he'd have you and echo safely tucked away in his arms in the deepest recesses of Wayne Manor.

[pedropascallme]

☆Kinktober 2024☆

Day 3: Breeding

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) p in v sex, breeding kink/creampie, dirty talk, Joel cannot shut the fuck up, spanking, if I missed anything please let me know!

“Keep your legs up, ‘round my waist—there y’go,” Joel mumbled his words into your ear, the scruff of his beard scratching the side of your face as he spoke.

He hadn’t said a word to you when he’d gotten home, riled up and pissed off at yet another ill-prepared patrolman who had nearly let it all go to hell. He’d opted instead to shuck off his jacket, leaving a trail of shoes and socks in the front hall before using his whole body to pull you into a bruising, much needed kiss.

You didn’t mind. You liked when he used you to blow off some steam, especially after being gone for so long.

So there you lay, spread out on the kitchen table for him, your hands in his hair. You planted your lips on him wherever they could reach when he leaned over you to admire the way your expression changed when he moved.

“Joel, Jesus Christ—so deep,” your moans were chesty, thick with the desire you’d been waiting all week to share with him.

And by god, was he delivering.

“Just gotta whip this pussy back into proper shape,” his hands caressed your sides, and when he reached your hips he dug his fingers into your skin so harshly that they’d be sure to leave bruises. He used his grip as leverage to drag you over his cock. “Only been a week and she almost forgot me.”

“Never—oh,” you whimpered when he moved one hand off of you before using it to deliver a sharp smack against your thigh, “Never forget about you, Joel—oh, fuck—feel so good, I nev—never forget about it.”

“Gonna have to make sure,” he moaned at your praise. Pressing his hips firm against you, he deepened his strokes and increased his pace ever so slightly.

You whined, head falling back against the table as your eyes closed, heightening the pleasure of the position he had you in and the way he spoke.

“Sound good?” He continued, landing another spank on your thigh, “Look at me—is that what you want?” He grabbed you by the calves, pushing your legs to your chest and bending forward to capture you in a kiss. “You want me to make sure you remember? Make sure you know who you belong to? Who this perfect fuckin’ body belongs to?”

You had to battle with yourself to keep your eyes open, lost in the joy of being full of him. The nudge of his cock on your cervix and the way he pressed against your clit with every thrust kept you dangling over the edge, almost ready to fall completely into ecstasy.

“Y—es,” you hiccupped through the haze of arousal, “Keep me full like this—keep me open all the time, Joel, please.”

“Do you one better,” he looked smug, the smirk he wore nearly morphing into a sneer as he situated himself on his forearms above you. “Gonna fill you up nice and deep, put a fuckin’ brat in there—‘nd every time you look in the mirror, every time you look down, you get to remind yourself what you’re carryin’.”

“Joel—!” You were so close, and the promise of being pumped full of him, the way he delivered the promise, and the notion of him actually and purposefully attempting to get you pregnant all worked in tandem to make your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“Yeah, s’a good idea, right?” He was smiling, babbling on as he watched you approach your high, racing towards his own. “Breed this greedy fuckin’ hole, that’ll show everybody whose you are—show you.”

“Yes—yes, fuck, please,” you were close to tears, desperately trying to move your hips to match his pace and speed up the process of what he was vowing to do. “Joel, please, cum in me.”

“Oh, I’ll cum in you,” he took a moment to really admire you, nose pressing against your own, gaze piercing into you, “Cum in you as many times as it takes to make it stick.”

And with one final shove of his hips, you were floating. You let out a strangled moan, something that came from low in your abdomen and exited your lips in a whiny, breathless cry. He relished it, pressing his face into your neck as he continued his ministrations, letting the sounds and signs of your pleasure coat him, body and mind.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he sucked marks into your skin, feeling your pulse, quick and jumpy, against his mouth. “Good girl—you want it?”

“Yes…” You were spent, body trembling and eyelids heavy, but you needed to see this through, aching for the warmth of him deep in your stomach. “Please—as many times as it takes…cum in me.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” Joel’s eyes were screwed shut, his mouth falling open when his hips began to stutter against you. He pushed himself deep, grinding himself against your cunt. “Shit—goddammit, I’m—yeah, yeah, sweetheart—fuck!” He came with a groan, and you moaned at the way his cock twitched inside of you.

You were both panting, sticky with sweat and exhausted. He stayed on top of you, nosing your neck and pressing dainty kisses into your skin.

Joel found it in himself to pull out after a few moments, still trying to savor the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. But when you tried to lift yourself up, a calloused palm pressed into your chest.

“Stay like that, darlin’. Legs up.” He walked around the table, coming to stand where your head nearly dangled off the edge. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll be ready again in ‘bout an hour.” He grinned, leaning over you to catch your lips with his.

With the way his tongue dove into your mouth, hungry to explore, capturing your whines, you could tell you wouldn’t have to wait a full hour if you played your cards right.

“How about you—mm—how about you carry me up to bed?” You purred, sliding a hand up to toy with the curls on the nape of his neck.

“Can’t risk lettin’ all’at leak out of you,” he muttered against your lips, “As pretty a sight it may be…”

“So slide back in and carry me like that,” you batted your lashes, and he let out a groan. “And if any of it drips, you can just do it all over again.”

“You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart,” he shook his head, but he took your advice.

[helaintoloki]

Hey I want to request something since I saw your request was open. So can you do a fic where five and y/n ( they are already married) end up in the deli with the other fives.

Basically there are only few fives that have a y/n but she's died in their timeline. So basically it's just the other fives wanting to know more about her abd the fives telling their stories of their y/n

Y/n absolutely loves the attention she almost sequeled when she saw the other fives lol.

a/n: so this actually ended up turning into a more depressing piece than i planned LOL but the original intention is there

warnings: language, angst, mentions of death, light amount of fluff

summary: your search for answers leads you to a deli with multiple versions of your husband inside

As the danger of the impending apocalypse finally begins to sink in for Five, he realizes he needs to get you somewhere safe until he figures out a way to stop the world from ending. Thus, while his siblings continued to fight off the monstrous cleanse that was Ben and Jennifer, Five quickly grabbed hold of you and jumped you both to the only place he could think of.

You stumble over your own feet as your body adjusts to being dropped into a new setting, your hand quickly raising to shield your eyes from the bright neons that hang above you as you take in your surroundings. A subway car comes to a screeching halt in front you, and before you can protest Five is quickly ushering you inside.

“Five, where are we?” You demand, completely disoriented from having been transported away from the fight without warning and preoccupied with worry at the thought of your family fighting against the Cleanse without you both present. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you somewhere safe where you can stay until I figure out how to undo this mess,” he instructs you hastily, his lips pulling back into an exasperated frown at your resistance to enter the subway car. He doesn’t have time for you to fight him on this, his siblings need him, and he needs you away from the fight. Though you’re skilled at combat and wickedly smart, you don’t have powers, and Five can’t risk something happening to you while he’s preoccupied with saving the world.

“You’re leaving me?!” You exclaim in distress as panic immediately begins to take over your rational mind. You push against him harder to move away from the train, but despite all your efforts the boy doesn’t budge.

“It’s only temporary, I promise you,” he assures you, and when you shove him hard in the chest once more he tightly takes hold of your hands and brings them to his lips to comfort you. “I’ll take you somewhere nice, somewhere with a beautiful house and a garden full of strawberry bushes. I found it while exploring other timelines in search of clues on how to prevent the apocalypse, I know it’s safe because I went there alone. You can stay in the house until this is all over and I’ll come back for you.”

“Five, what if…” you swallow harshly as tears begin to well in your eyes, your emotions overtaking you at the thought of this being goodbye, “…what if you don’t come back?”

Five refuses to meet your gaze when the question leaves your lips. He’d never lie to you, and he knows he can’t guarantee he’ll live long enough to join you in the peaceful timeline he’d found, but he doesn’t have the heart to voice this to you. How can he look you in your tear filled eyes and tell you that this might be the last time you’ll be together as husband and wife?

Sighing, he releases your hands in exchange for cupping your face so that he may brush away the tears that slide down your warm cheeks. He hopes that one day you’ll be able to understand that every moment leading up to this has been for you, and he would happily die a hundred times over if it meant keeping you safe. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

You open your mouth to argue only to snap it shut when your gaze falls over his shoulder and lands on another figure in the subway. You blink away your tears to get a better view and are left speechless when you realize you’re staring back at the face of your husband.

But how can that be when he’s standing right in front of you?

Noticing your change in demeanor, Five follows your gaze and spots the lookalike that stands across the way from you both. His features contort into confusion as you both watch the second Five offer you a wave in greeting before disappearing down the stairs. Exchanging looks of uncertainty, Five and yourself immediately rush after the doppelgänger to figure out just what exactly is going on.

Your quick chase leads you both to the front doors of a deli, the dazzling sign above welcoming you warmly as you cautiously open the doors and set foot into Max’s despite Five’s protests to wait. If this other Five has the answers you need to return home safely together, then you’ll stop at nothing to get them.

Your originally confident demeanor quickly dwindles when the restaurant becomes deathly silent upon your entry. While you only expected to see one Five, you now find about twenty of them staring intently at you as you slowly walk towards the lookalike from the subway that waves you over to his table. Five is quick to rush after you and place a protective arm around your waist; you’re not the only one unsettled by their stares, and he feels uncharacteristically territorial in the presence of himself.

“Have a seat,” the subway lookalike offers with a gesture towards the empty space across from him, and you’re both quick to slide into the cushions at his command. “I’m glad you found me.”

“What is this place?” Your husband demands impatiently as another Five dressed in a waiter’s uniform approaches your table with three cups of coffee in hand.

“This is where all the Fives come after they decide to give up on figuring out a way to stop the apocalypse.”

As he speaks, a plate of pie is suddenly placed in front of you, and before you can even open your mouth to question it, the waiter offers you wink and assures you, “It’s on the house.”

Picking up the fork, your eyes widen in surprise as you realize what specific dessert has been given to you. Looking up at the Five across from you, you ask, “How did he know that-“

“Pumpkin pie is your favorite?” The lookalike finishes for you with an amused smile before leaning back to take a drink of his coffee. “We all know that, because we all know you.”

“Me?” You repeat quietly, brows drawn together in confusion as you look to your husband who seems rather displeased with all of the attention you’re getting. He never once thought to think of himself as potential competition over you, but it figures. Who better than himself to sweep you off your feet?

“Mind telling me why you all seem to have such a great interest in my wife?” Five demands with a wry smile, eyes blazing with annoyance and a subtle hint of jealousy.

“‘Your’ wife?” The Five behind the deli counter scoffs in amusement. “Take a number, pal.”

“What deli Five means to say is that each and every one of us has our own y/n in our own perspective timelines,” the boy across from you clarifies before gesturing to the the back of the shop. Your eyes widen in shock as you take in all the various pictures of yourself that line the wall from top to bottom, and it takes you a moment to process the fact that various versions of you have existed throughout time unbeknownst to you.

“My y/n was a trained assassin,” the Five at the table next to you describes with a dreamy smile before biting into his sandwich.

“Mine was sent alongside Hazel and Cha Cha to kill me,” another voices while pulling down the collar of his shirt to showcase the ghastly scar on his chest. “She gave me this along with three beautiful kids before I screwed it all up with this end of the world bullshit.”

“If you all care so much about her then why did you give up trying to save the world?” Your husband protests in agitation. Your search for answers is going absolutely nowhere, and you’re both left with more questions than solutions. If these doppelgängers were really meant to be him from different timelines, then why did they quit so easily? His sole purpose, his entire being, was doing everything in his power to ensure the safety of his family. Come hell or high water, Five would always be willing to get his hands dirty if it meant you and his siblings lived to see another day. So why weren’t they doing the same? “Why come here instead of preventing the apocalypse so she has the chance to live a safe and happy life even if it means you can’t be in it?”

A forlorn silence fills the deli at his question, and now none of the Fives can find it in themselves to look at you. Their features are almost shameful, their eyes full of guilt and their shoulders full of tension as no one dares to answer.

“When us Fives find a way to save the world, y/n is the one that pays the price,” the boy across from you discloses somberly before tilting his head to meet your gaze. Looking at you is like looking at a ghost, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you as if you are his own. “The Handler killed my y/n after discovering my betrayal of the Commission.”

Another Five raises a woeful hand before announcing, “Viktor killed my y/n on accident with his bow after he discovered his powers.”

“My wife took a bullet for me because she thought my life was worth more than her own.”

“Dad had y/n disposed of in my timeline because he saw her as a distraction to me and my siblings.”

“Cha Cha tracked us down, found our home, and burned it to the ground with y/n still in it while I was away trying to save the world.”

You swallow harshly and ignore the knots in your stomach at hearing all the violent ways in which other versions of you had met their end. Your heart aches at learning what these men have been through and how much they’ve lost, but it also makes you begin to wonder if your fate will be worse than any story they can come up with. Sensing your discomfort, Five wraps a comforting arm around your figure and pulls you closer into his side.

“No matter how many times I traveled back to make it right, the result was the same,” the boy across from you relents in a desolate tone. “If I couldn’t even keep the most important woman in my life safe then how could I expect myself to save the world?”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you murmur softly, taking it upon yourself to reach across for his hand and offer your comfort. “I’m sorry for all of your losses. But as a y/n myself, I don’t think she would have wanted you to give up. She would have wanted you to keep going in spite of her death because that’s what she loved about you- your strength and your resilience when it comes to saving the people you care about.”

“God, you sound just like her,” he comments with a doleful laugh before shaking his head and pulling his hand away. “Believe me, I did everything I could. But no matter what we do, there’s no escaping the apocalypse.”

“So that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Five retorts in disbelief. This was all a complete waste of his time. He’s nowhere near close to preventing the Cleanse, and you’re still not somewhere safe away from the impending apocalypse.

“You can enjoy the time you have left with your y/n,” the lookalike instructs firmly, the other Fives in the deli nodding along. “You got lucky, you still have your wife, so why don’t you do us all a favor and take her somewhere nice?”

“I’m not giving up on this,” your husband argues before hastily rising from his seat in the booth. “There has to be a way to save the world, and I won’t stop until I figure it out myself.”

You watch him stalk out of the deli with purpose as he slams the door open and begins to formulate his next move. The room is silent other than the bell that jingles above the door, and you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably go after him,” you admit with a meek smile before scooting your way out of the booth. The Five from the subway rises to meet you, and he can’t help but to carefully cup your face in his hands and admire your features for just a moment. This might be the last time he’ll ever get to see you in person, and he’d like to commit every detail of you to memory from the reflection of the light in your eye to the smell of your perfume.

“If he ever gives you any trouble, you know where to find us,” he instructs you firmly before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and releasing you from his hold. Smiling faintly, you return the gesture by chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before rushing off after your husband.

Who would have guessed that in every timeline, in every possible version of himself to exist, Five’s love for you knows no bounds.