#I’m already in such a shit state of mind this month so fuck it take this too

[sloanesallow]

Can you please just shut up about comments and notes and numbers? All you do is complain. If people want to comment, they will. If they don’t, then maybe the story wasn’t worth commenting on. Deal with it. Or find a different hobby your emotions can handle.

Hey, Anon! You're totally right! And thanks for the advice! I'll go ahead and shut up now.

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | chapter two

chapter summary: Steve brings his daughter to her first day of Kindergarten.

the song: My Girl by The Temptations

6,251 words | please see the masterlist for warnings! | my blog is 18+

Steve can’t be sure if the sigh that escapes his lips and clouds up in front of him is due to the anticipation of the inevitable sticky situation that’s about to occur or annoyance in himself for continuing to provide her the jam. He supposes it could just be a sigh of acceptance, finally coming to terms with the new and almost constant state of his hair lately. Most likely though, it’s just a content, tiny burst of affection.

Because that’s the overwhelming feeling that blooms in his chest when sticky, sweet strawberry smelling fingers land in his freshly styled hair. His eyes flit up from the green sparkly laces between his fingers to see her tiny lips forming her patented pout.

Hair a bit lighter than his, curls slightly in a mind of its own kind of way beneath little pig tails, bouncing just above shoulders that are tucked up to her ears as she tilts her head to look around his. Big, curious eyes that he claims are like her mom’s, but everyone is adamant are also a carbon copy of his too - just like her nose that scrunches all too familiarly, dotted with tiny freckles that seem to multiple every day.

Steve taps the side of Charlie’s ankle as he finishes the first bow, and she sticks her other foot out for him, yellow lights at the center of daisies flashing as she stomps it down on the gravel. He glances back up to find her eyes still trained on the playground behind him, the furrow between her eyebrows only growing deeper as her fingers tug in his hair - either for his full attention like it isn’t already on her, or the aforementioned jam predicament, he isn’t sure.

“Daddy?”

He finishes the second bow, and removes her hands from his hair gently, running his thumb over the back of her knuckles and he sighs again. She is so sticky.

Steve shakes his head at his own thoughts and releases her hands to search his pockets, the other chucks the side of his knuckle under her chin.

“Talk to me, Goose.”

Her pout disappears, a giggle slips past her lips just like always, but it’s not long lasting when a shriek comes from the playground behind him. Her voice lowers as she asks in a wobbly tone, “Who will do the underdogs?”

“Well, uh, I’m sure your teacher knows how to do them, cutie,” he reassures while his forehead wrinkles and he tries to determine if she’s looking for some reason not to go suddenly or if she’s just genuinely curious. She does take her swings seriously, so it’s not an out of the ordinary question.

Steve finds a napkin, and decides it’ll have to do for now, grimacing as the paper material hits his tongue.

“But what if she can’t, daddy?” Her voice whines as he continues his stand off with the sticky residue.

That’s it. He’s suing Smuckers.

He hums, squeezing her fingers that wiggle between his and the napkin doing absolutely shit all.

“Then we’ll just have to teach her, right? Everyone’s gotta know how to do the underdogs.”

Charlie huffs, but she shrugs her shoulders in some sort of agreement it seems. He wonders how someone so tiny can be full of such complicated emotions, curious thoughts, and brains that he absolutely can’t keep up with, yet still need her shoes tied and someone on jam removal duty most mornings.

Steve stares at her tiny hand in his palm, green sparkles on clear nails that make him swallow down something stuck in his throat, make his free hand run down his nose and swipe underneath it.

Don’t you dare cry, you fucking loser.

But he can’t help but feed the worm that’s been digging deeper and deeper inside of him for months: What if she’s not ready?

And he knows, he really knows, after all the long talks and preparation for this very moment, that it’s him who’s not ready, not her.

She’s so ready, and going to wow the socks off of every teacher with her brilliant and funny little brain and she is the greatest, most precious thing in the world and nothing bad is going to happen to her, dingus.

He recites it to himself over and over, verbatim what Robin told him as he tries to move on to her second hand. But as the gold heart shaped locket dangling from her neck hits his forehead, all he can think is, that starting today, the room full of people he trusts with her safety is expanding. And the problem with opening that door to the room is not Charlie exploring beyond the safe wall’s he’s built, it’s who can get in when he’s not there 24/7 to guard that door.

Visions of flashing Christmas lights, baseball bats meeting gray flesh, Russian guard’s hands and their beady eyes, potentially rabid bats and, you know, just the earth cracking in half and the world almost ending multiple times, while losing people he really cares about, threaten to overtake his mind and he huffs in then out, a quick and calming breath.

Steve wets the napkin with his tongue once more, but pieces of it stick to it this time and he sputters and blows a raspberry, and Charlie’s giggles soothe any worry that was climbing over him like writhing vines.

He let’s go of her hands and makes a bigger show of removing the wet clumps of cardboard tasting napkin from his tongue and coughs loudly. She laughs harder and his eyes widen and his mouth drops in a dramatic gasp.

“Are you laughing at your dad?” He jabs at her sides lightly, tickling and poking her while the napkin falls to the ground and she giggles harder. “Huh? That’s not very nice!”

Steve picks up Charlie, squeezing at her wiggling and gasping body as she laughs so loud he can’t even remember what he was so worried about. He blows a raspberry into her neck so she shrieks in a laughing protest, “Daddy! Too much…” she laughs and wiggles more, gasping around her words, “Too much happy!”

He’ll take the sticky fingers and messed up hair and cardboard taste in his mouth and worrying about another human more than he ever could about himself every day if it means he gets to hear that every once in awhile.

“Mr. Harrington?”

Steve spins at the sound of his name, slowing his tickling. As his body turns and he’s met with your smile, he nearly drops his kid.

You are so pretty.

His mouth goes dry, like the entire napkin is balled up inside of it. He’s sure his cheeks are turning pink from how warm he feels while staring at you. Your fingers wrapped around a bright yellow thermos tap at it while a clipboard rests wedged between your side and elbow. Your light gray tshirt is decorated with sparkly planets and the slogan “Kindergarten is out of this world!” and is tucked into a bright green skirt that he can sense Charlie eyeing appreciatively, though apprehensively from her new residence tucked into his neck.

He runs a palm down Charlie’s spine, reassuring her as you tilt your head and smile wider at her, your nose scrunching up when you do. It takes your kind eyes turning their gaze to him again for him to realize you’ve never met and you were asking if he was Mr. Harrington.

“H-hi. Yeah, I mean yes. I’m Mr. Harrington. I mean, I don’t, kids at school call me that, and I guess parents, but I mean that is my name. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He squeezes his eyes closed shut as if to erase that moment from existence forever. He can practically see Robin drawing a line on a whiteboard in the ‘You Suck’ column.

Your laugh drags his eyelids open, and it tugs at something inside of his chest that he thought disappeared a long time ago. Your hand extends and he bites his cheek, cursing all jelly and jam brands. He raises his hands up almost in surrender and Charlie clings to his neck harder, her face hidden in his shoulder as the back of her thighs balance in the crook of his elbow.

“I’m afraid we had a bit of a sticky jam situation this morning, so I don’t know if you want to proceed with a handshake.”

Proceed? With a handshake? Dude, you’re killing me here.

Your shoulders shrug, your voice all soft and smooth and a little sleepy as you joke, “They literally make us Kindergarten teachers take a class where they simply throw sticky substances at us, and if you flinch or grimace, you’ll never graduate. It’s all a part of the job.” Your hand clasps around his gently, but in a firm shake, as you introduce yourself, “I’m Miss Honey.”

He can’t help but notice the Miss not a Mrs.

Charlie perks up at your name, her forehead knocks his chin and he blinks rapidly from the sensation and her shout directly in his ear, “You’re my teacher!”

“I am?” You gasp, excited and smiling at her when you do and he thinks he might already be in love with you.

Charlie nods and then exclaims, “Daddy calls me honey!”

Steve fights a smile and his arm wrapped around her waist squeezes as he whispers, “How do we introduce ourselves?”

Charlie beams at him and slides down his front, foot pushing off of his thigh for leverage. She jumps to the ground forcefully, and almost trips and falls face first into the cement.

Steve’s already moving forward in anticipation of big crocodile tears, but stops himself when he sees you don’t move a muscle and simply watch her find her balance. He watches as you bite your lip in a way that tells him you’re hiding a smile as Charlie sticks her hand out towards you.

When you take it, she shakes it and takes a deep breath before slowly reciting, “My name is Charlotte Maxine Harrington. I live at six eight two Poppy Lane and my daddy’s phone number is seven six five four two…five-“

“Woah cutie,” he stops her, hands resting on her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head. “We don’t have to give her the whole speech, how about just the name?”

Crouched down to Charlie’s level now, you tilt your head at her, eyes widening as the tone of your voice turns to something syrupy sweet that he recognizes in the way he talks to her himself sometimes as you ask, “You memorized all of that Charlotte? That’s amazing! And there’s more? A whole speech?!”

She nods, eyes big and wide and voice excited as she hums, “Mhm. For policemans like Mr. Jim and firesmens like Uncle Eddie and teachers like Auntie Robin. Cause every-eveybody calls me Charlie, but if I’m scared and I need help they need my whole name and daddy’s phone number and if any food makes me itchy.”

Steve knows without a shadow of a doubt that not only are his cheeks pink, the tips of his ears are now too when you look up at him with raised eyebrows and something twinkling in your gaze. He clears his throat and focuses on his hand running through Charlie’s curls instead of you.

“Daddy’s gotta make sure his right hand gal’s got all the facts, right?” He kisses the top of her head again, inhaling her L’Oreal mangoes and strawberry and something distinctly his daughter that he is certain would be what the sun smells like if it could be bottled.

She tilts her head back, resting against his dark Levi’s so she can see him. Her grin is wide, showing off dimples she didn’t get from him as she nods again. “Right. Always be pepared.”

Steve brushes his thumb down her nose, and something stings behind his eyes again. He looks back over at you, slowly standing from your crouch with a fond gaze staring back at him. He swallows before his lips part, prepared to tell you that it’s all wrong. He’s not Steve Harrington, this is not Charlie Harrington, and no way is anyone starting Kindergarten today, but Charlie’s shriek never lets the words leave his mouth.

It’s like a bucket of ice cold water dumps over his head as he spins to watch Charlie race towards the parking lot, about to yell far too loud from fear, when she comes to halt right at the curb. Impatiently bouncing as her favorite person waves and runs towards her.

The familiar honey tinged red waves bounce as Robin scoops Charlie up in a hug that can only be comfortable for the two of them, all squeezing and no grace, kissing all over her face as she gushes and fawns over her like she literally didn’t see her last night.

“Hey babe! You look splendidly spectacular this morning! Did you do something different with your hair?”

“No!” Charlie giggles and spins once back on the ground, as if to show off her outfit. Which is pretty cute, if he does say so himself. Robin taps a finger to her chin. She holds up curls and circles Charlie, inspecting.

“Not the hair, not the hair…aha! Your nails! Green nail polish!”

Charlie shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips, and Steve relaxes as she tells her that Auntie Robin you painted them last night and how could she forget already, no it’s not that.

You’re watching him closely when he turns to look back at you, rubbing the back of his neck under your appraisal. Your smile all knowing as you reassure, “She’s gonna be fine, Mr. Harrington. Stopping to look both ways and being aware of cars is first week stuff, she’s a natural. And that speech? Time for you to relax.”

He knows he was never one for hiding how he felt from his facial features, but after having a kid and becoming a teacher, he’s had to learn to keep himself fairly composed. So he’s not sure if you can already read him that well or this is just the speech you give to all the parents. Nonetheless, he smiles back at you.

“I’ve never heard of that word before, what does it mean? Relax?”

Your laughter at his terrible joke makes something in his chest swell, almost as sweet of a sound as Charlie’s. He glances over to see Robin smacking her forehead and exclaiming that oh of course it’s the fabulous new green overalls.

“Also, call me Steve, please,” you smile politely and he knows you won’t, because he does the same thing to parents who tell him the same thing, “And I think it’s in that packet we had to fill out, but I’m a teacher over at the middle school, um, art, and so I’m only like ten minutes away if something happens, and she should be really good, she’s a great listener, but I know how she can be so please tell me. Seriously. And I know she didn’t do pre-school, but she’s so smart, she’s just struggling with her R’s and H’s sometimes, but I honestly think it’s because she talks so fast she just doesn’t care to slow down-“

Your fingers touch his wrist, catching it as he talks with his hands and he stops immediately, blinking at you with a held breath.

It’s like touching his skin shocks you and your fingers release from around his wrist quickly before you take a step back, shaking your head while biting your lip.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s oka-“

“Dingus!” Wing woman extraordinare interrupts, “Why on earth did cutiepie here just tell me she did not get a picture in this fabulous first day of school outfit?”

He focus’ on the pair walking towards him hand in hand with a scowl he quickly hides, rolling his eyes at Robin when Charlie quips, “Yeah, dad!”

Steve rubs the side of his cheek, glaring at Robin as you make yourself busy with your clipboard. “Because, we were gonna be late after we were so focused on finding the green overalls, and the green hair ties, and the green shoelaces and the green-“

“Because green is the best,” Charlie interrupts while putting her hands on her hips as if it weren’t clear how exasperated she was with him from her tone.

Robin snorts from behind her and mirrors her pose before sticking her tongue out at him. “Yeah, dad!”

Your laughter reminds Charlie of your presence and she tugs Robin’s matching polished fingers with her own forward.

“Miss Honey, this is Auntie Robin. She lives at…um…oh yeah…four one three-“

“Woah kiddo!” Robin whispers and crouches down, looking around dramatically like a spy. “Does Miss Honey know the super secret password? ‘Cause, remember, only the friends who know the super secret password get to know where Aunt Robin lives.”

Charlie gasps like she’s just recalled this important fact and nods, face seriouos. Robin mimes zipping her lips, locking, then throws the invisible key over her shoulder. Charlie copies her, then promptly steps towards you and loudly whispers: “Pickles.”

Steve bites his cheek and Robin laughs, running a hand over her curls. “We’ll keep practicing the whole locking of lips thing, huh?”

“Kay,” Charlie shrugs before she tugs on Steve’s pant leg. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?” He watches her grip the side of jeans in her little fist and stare at the swings with that pout on her lips again.

“Can I swing?”

A lump in his throat forms when he looks up at you, you glance at your watch and nod with a smile.

“Sure, cutie.” He starts to take off her back pack straps and she’s already racing across the gravel and he calls out loudly, “Don’t forget to be nice to new friends! Take turns! Say please!”

“Tank you!” She shouts back over her shoulder.

Steve groans at it all, her racing away, her forgotten H. He watches her slow down as she reaches the swings and point to an empty one next to a boy already pumping his legs. He nods eagerly and Charlie talks animatedly with her hands as she climbs into the swing.

He lets all of his weight drop against Robin, Charlie’s backpack limp in his fingers when his temple knocks hers and he whispers, “I can’t fucking do this.”

Robin sniffles and his head whips up.

“Are you crying?”

She swats at his chest and avoids his gaze, “No. I have something in my eye. Both eyes. Like a branch or something. Just…” she holds out her hand and blinks blue eyes that have turned a little more shiny, “Give me your keys so I can go get the polaroid, ‘cause I know you brought it, you sentimental idiot.”

He drops the car keys into her palm and she quickly turns away from him before he can catch the tears slipping down her cheeks. When he turns back around you’re hiding a smile behind your thermos again.

Steve clears his throat and runs his thumb and forefinger down his nose, squinting at the playground.

“It’s okay to cry you know, most parents do.”

“I’m not,” he clarifies, words thick in his throat and a struggle to get out.

“Okay, I believe you,” yours easy and tinged with laughter.

“I’m not,” he begs, pleading with someone in the universe so the burn behind his eyes doesn’t fully form and fall.

You must hear it, and decide to give him an out, because you pull up your clipboard. “I actually did need to ask you a few questions, you were my last parent to snag before we all go inside. We never got your authorized pick up list? Just if you can’t ever pick up Charlie, who we’re allowed to send her home with? We tend to also use this as an emergency contact list if there was ever some reason we couldn’t get a hold of you.”

The word emergency makes his heart beat harder and he looks over at Charlie swinging to make sure he can still see her.

“Oh,” he nods, licking his lips as he thinks through it. “How many people can I put?”

“As many as you want,” you shrug before adjusting your coffee thermos in the crook of your elbow so you can write on the clipboard.

“Here,” he grabs the thermos, “Let me. I feel like if I let you spill coffee on that skirt, Charlie might actually never forgive me, as you heard, we’re in a green phase.”

He’s awarded that laugh of yours again before you whisper a quiet thank you. Your lashes kiss as you blink at him, pen poised on the paper. It’s when your eyebrows lift expectantly that he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something still.

“Oh! Um…honestly…” he looks at Charlie who’s smiling at Robin holding up the camera now and nods towards her. “Robin Buckley,” he lists her phone number before adding on, “She’s a teacher here, music, um, honestly she might be picking her up most days. I coach soccer here in the fall after school, so I should make it, but in the spring I’m over at the high school for baseball.”

“Okay great,” you smile as you finish writing her number and look up at him, “Anyone else?”

“I guess Eddie Munson?”

“The ‘firesmens’?” You ask as you write the name.

Steve laughs, fiddling with Charlie’s backpack in his hands, “Yeah, and I guess I should do Nancy too…”

He gives you both of their numbers along with Hopper and Joyce and he doesn’t even want to imagine what would be going on that you couldn’t get a hold of him, Robin, Eddie, or Nancy and had to resort to calling them. And what’s worse, if you couldn’t get a hold of them either.

“We almost never have to call even the second person on the list Mr. Harrington, she’s gonna be just fine.”

“Right,” he nods, but doesn’t really believe you.

“For relationship, Robin is Charlie’s Aunt is what I gathered?”

“Oh,” he laughs and rubs at his temple, “Um by blood? No. She’s just my best friend, but I mean, I guess, to Charlie, yeah. Closest person to having a real one I think.”

“Oh, okay, gotcha” you nod, glancing down at the list and writing.

Steve feels the need to clarify when you hover over Eddie and Nancy, and he isn’t sure why. “They’re married, shouldn’t have said that. And again, family friends I guess, but Charlie calls them Aunt and Uncle. And Jim and Joyce, do you know Hopper? The chief? Anyways, they’re just Mr. Jim and Mrs. Joyce, but they’re essentially her grandparents I guess? I don’t really know…”

Your face does that thing that he hates, the look like you wanna tell him you’re sorry, or you want to comfort him but don’t know how. And it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate where it comes from, he just hates anyone thinking he can’t handle it, can’t handle her, all by himself, or feeling sorry for him in any way. Because there’s nothing to be sorry for, not when he has her.

Your mouth parts, but before you can speak, thunder rumbles loudly overhead.

“Oh, shit,” Steve groans, looking up at the angry clouds. The clear morning sky slowly turning gray without him noticing and he looks over to see Charlie already running for Robin’s legs.

“Not a fan of thunderstorms?” You ask as you watch her and several other kiddos get scooped up by parents.

Steve shakes his head, lips turning down in a frown as Robin whispers in her ear and starts back towards him. “No, she really doesn’t. No matter what I say or do, nothing helps. I honestly don’t know where it came from, I don’t think it’s the loud noises of the thunder, we’ve never lost power…I feel so helpless. Or useless. Like I can’t fix it for her. ”

The smile you offer attempts to reassure, but Charlie’s eyes fill with tears and Robin rubs a hand down her back, looking over her head at Steve with worried eyes.

“Sorry, I gotta…” he apologizes but he’s already moving towards her and he hopes you understand.

Charlie’s sniffles grow louder as another rumble cracks overhead, burrowing her head into Robin’s sternum and kicking her shoes against her thighs so hard, the little daisies light up.

Robin grimaces at the rough kick, and Steve gives her a mouthed apology as he relieves her of her comforting duties. “Hey, calm down honey. I’m right here. It’s just the rain being a little loud, announcing it’s coming soon, remember?”

He watches you and Robin and some of the other teachers start to gently guide parents and kids inside, smiling and distracting from the incoming rain, and he starts to follow but Charlie wails in his ear as he gets further away from the car.

“Dad-dy, nooo,” she sobs, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna go.”

His eyes blur as he sets her down in the entryway, kids running past as parents give him kind smiles when they walk around them.

“What?!” He tries to sound excited, but he’s wavering, throat too tight and eyes burning, “Why don’t you wanna go now? You get to color, and meet new friends! You get to go play music with Robin!”

“But,” she hiccups around a big sob and his thumb catches a new fat tear trying to trail down her pink cheeks. “You-you leaving and and I don’t like the storm and-“

“I don’t have to leave yet! We get to go put your backpack away, and see your new classroom together. Can we do that? I was so excited to see where you get to sit and draw me pictures every day.”

He’s grasping at straws as she shakes her head no and tries to climb into his lap. And he doesn’t even care if he shouldn’t, he lets her. And he squeezes her and kisses the top of her head as he cradles her, walking deeper inside.

Steve whispers in her ear about how Miss Honey must be magic cause guess what? Char, your cubbie is green. How’d she know? And oh my gosh, no way, someone has a sleeping beauty lunchbox. All the while humming her favorite lullaby between the exciting things he hopes grab her attention. And soon she’s not crying anymore, wet lashes tickling his neck as she peeks at the things he’s pointing out. Soon she’s climbing off of his lap as he forces his voice to sound happy about her hanging up her power rangers backpack she just had to have, and holding his hand as she walks to the doorway of the classroom.

All the parents are gone, aside from a few taking last peeks at their kids drawing or playing and Charlie clings to his knee as he hesitates in the doorway himself.

You’re knelt on the ground pointing at some books with two kids when you spot them. He’s not sure what you say to them, but then you’re walking over to them and not even looking at Steve as you crouch in front of Charlie hiding behind his leg, your sole focus on her and making her feel better.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Charlie!” You tell her, thoroughly relieved, “I have the biggest hugest favor to ask you, will you help me?”

Charlie looks at you, and takes a step forward as she quietly asks, “Help?”

Your nod is so enthusiastic, and you reach out your hand for hers, waiting until she rests her fingers in yours to lace them together. “I heard you are your dad’s best helper, and I need help finding all of the green crayons, can you do that with me? There’s so many in this bin! We need them for a special project we’re going to do later.”

She’s about to nod, he knows she is, when lighting flashes outside, and despite the blinds being closed, she knows. Charlie flinches and starts to retreat but you sigh, and nod your head, smiling still. “I know, rain can be scary sometimes. Do you know what I like to do when it rains?”

Charlie shakes her head no, and you smile encouragingly at her as she gets closer and places both of her hands on your arm instead of holding your hand, squeezing close to your side. “I love to bake cookies. They make my house smell so good. What’s your favorite kind of cookie?”

“Um…” Charlie swipes at her cheek and looks around the room at kids playing and laughing. “Monstermashes.”

“Monstermashes? What are those? I’ve never heard of them, can you tell me what all goes in them while we find all the green crayons?”

She let’s you lead her to the table with the bin where two other kids coloring smile at her and say hi. She sits and you squeeze her shoulder as she tells you all about the cookies. It’s when you risk a glance at the door that Steve realizes he’s just standing there, crying.

Your smile is kind, but your head tilts ever so subtly, telling him to slip out while he can and he knows he should, but the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her goodbye or say have a great first day or I love you is ripping him apart and he squeezes his eyes closed.

He’s not sure how he makes it out to his car with how clouded his vision is, but he does. Thankfully he doesn’t have a sob leave his lips until the maroon door is slammed and his forehead presses to the leather wheel. He notices a little stack of polaroids under an orange post it that says “You sentimental idiot” on the passenger seat. He cries more when he sees the curled fingers around his. He cups his cheeks and slaps them, clearing his throat while muttering under his breath to get a grip.

And he does, eventually.

He goes to teacher workshop and sets up his own classroom and lesson plans and catches up with his co-workers. The thunder only lasts about a half hour, and then it’s just a normal rainy day, which he hopes you’ve managed alright with her. He only calls Robin once but that’s only because she yells at him that of course she’s fine, you think she’d let anything happen to that sweet angel? And he only grabs his keys to go early three times, but never makes it fully out to the car. He does have to take something from his little orange bottle when his breath isn’t quite right when lights flicker for no reason, but turns out it was just the custodian doing some checks. And then finally, it’s already time to go pick her up, and he’s not proud of this, but he speeds at least ten over the whole way there.

So maybe he’s a little early.

He’s slow to approach the classroom, and leans against the wall on the other side of the doorway, just out of sight. He hears your voice singing some sort of clean up song and the kids responding, he closes his eyes and tries to focus on if he can hear her. When the song is over, he opens his eyes to find you smiling at him from the doorway. Your shirt is stained, your hair messier than it was this morning. You’re clearly exhausted but absolutely overjoyed that this is your job as you call for anyone who’s favorite color is green to come grab their back pack. Charlie races towards the door with a few other kids and waves excitedly at him from her place in line.

When you tell them to grab their backpacks, she exits the room and leaps into his arms when he crouches down, expecting the hug. He squeezes her tightly, “Hey cutie, did you have a good day? I missed you so much!”

“So so so so good daddy, we played with cars and colored planets and Auntie Robin taught us a new song and and oh my gosh there’s too much happy to tell you.”

He gets a little choked up at that, a sob threatens to hiccup out of him that he tries to cover up with a laugh, kissing her cheek. “That’s so great! Go get your backpack, I think Miss Honey is waiting.”

“Oh!” She jumps out of his arms and skips to her cubbie, and brings it to you where you slip some papers into a folder, notably sparkly and green, into her backpack after you do the same with three other kids and three different colored folders. The others go sit down on a rug and you smile at him.

“Hi Mr. Harrington, Charlie had such a great first day! She was my awesome helper and she has some art projects to show you that I think you’re really gonna like. There’s also a note about what we did today for you in there, that also has some dates to keep in mind and it’ll always have announcements for things like snack rotations.”

Charlie tugs at his pant leg as Steve smiles at you, “Hold on, sweetie.” He runs a hand over her curls before turning back to you and lowering his voice, “Thank you. For this morning, but also, you know, the whole day.”

“It’s literally my job,” you joke, but you smile warmly at him, “But, you’re welcome. You just need to sign Charlie out and then you’re all set!”

You grab a binder from it’s place by the door and flip to the H’s, and hold it open for him. Typed up information about Charlie on top, and the dates of the month in a calendar for signatures, and at the bottom, the list of names. He gets a little emotional seeing: ‘Robin Buckley - Aunt’ and all the other relationships you’ve given instead of family friend.

Charlie tugs harder, this time on his belt loop and he laughs, picking her up. “Hey, I said hold on, what’s got ants in your pants, huh?”

She taps at his cheek, big eyes blinking at him as she whines, “Daddy, this is so impotant, I promise. No ants.”

“Okay,” he laughs, signing his name in the today’s box, “What’s up?”

“What are the crunchies?”

She asks it so seriously and he has no idea what she’s talking about, he looks to you for help.

You’re thanking the kids for the calm and listening bodies before you’re calling up kids who’s favorite animal is a penguin, so he looks at Charlie who’s waiting expectantly. “What are what?”

“The crunchies daddy. What are they? Miss Honey doesn’t know them.”

“Cutie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What are crunchies?” He bends down with her to grab her backpack that’s still on the floor and he hears you laugh.

“Daddy the monstermashes,” Charlie whines, like he should know this.

“Oh,” he draws it out, “The M&M’s? The chocolate candy I put in?”

“No,” Charlie whines, and she turns to you with a pout. “Daddy doesn’t know too. It’s no use! Hopeless!”

He doesn’t know how or where she learns these phrases so quickly and how she uses them so correctly but he does know that he’s not alone in thinking it’s the cutest thing ever when you smile at her.

“Hold on, I bet we can figure it out together!” You tick off on your fingers as kids who love potato chips go to their cubbies and get their equally different folders and a second parent enters the hallway. He starts to wonder how many folders you bought to be prepared for all their different interests. Colors, animals, shapes, characters, sparkles and no sparkles. He wonders what else you did today.

“Let’s see, we have peanut butter…” Charlie nods and you gasp, “Is it crunchy peanut butter? Peanuts?”

She makes a face, much to his dismay they’re a creamy peanut butter household, so Steve shakes his head no and you tap your chin. “Okay, and it’s not the m&m’s or…” you smile at Steve, emphasizing the R’s in a way that tells him the very important letters were left out of the word, “Butterscotch.”

Charlie nods and the two of you are silent so he chimes in with, “Rice Krispies? The cereal?”

You smile and Charlie nods, “That’s it! Krispies!”

Crunchies, krispies, he has to give it to her, that’s pretty close. And from the way you react, he knows you knew all day, you just wanted to keep her distracted.

“I’m so glad we figured it out! I had such a great time learning with you today, Charlie, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Charlie nods and waves, shouting in his ear, “Bye Miss Honey!”

You wave back, smiling at the two as the next parent takes his place and you call up a boy named Matt.

Steve heads down the hallway, looping her backpack over his shoulder as he whispers, “Should we make Miss Honey some Monstermash cookies tonight? You can bring them tomorrow?”

Charlie shouts yes directly in his ear again and his hair gets trapped under her hand in her excitement and all he can do is sigh.

A content, tiny burst of affection, for sure.

[bullet-prooflove]

Knoxville: Dean Winchester x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @cosmic-psychickitty @shanimallina87 @shadyhologrambanana

Companion piece to:

Gatlinburg - Dean falls in love in a tiny town in Tennessee.

With You - Dean tells you he's going to stay the night.

You, Me & Tennessee - Dean always returns to Tennessee.

On The Mountain - Dean wishes he was back on the Mountain with you.

Feral (NSFW) - Dean gets feral when he sees you with another man.

The blue and pink light from the neon sign behind the bar illuminates your skin as you throw a shot of tequila down your throat. You’re the prettiest damn thing in this place Dean thinks as he slips into the stool beside you, even when you are spitting mad.

You don’t acknowledge his presence, it’s like he doesn’t even exist to you right now and it hurts more than he cares to admit. The thing is he deserves every single ounce of your ire especially after what you’ve just caught him doing in the bathroom.

“I didn’t promise you anything.” He says finally, inclining his head towards you and you don’t say a fucking word as you focus on the empty shot glass. “Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea…”

“No you didn’t.” You say as you raise to your feet and slap down a couple of bills for the bartender. “You were perfectly straight with me. I am just another fuck on your journey through the state.”

“Harlow…” He begins but you’re already walking away from him.  

This shit tonight, it’s entirely on him.

Him and Sam were passing through Tennessee on the way to a job in Kentucky. Instead of driving directly to Gatlinburg where you were, Dean had decided they’d spend the night in Knoxville, less than two hours away because he was trying to avoid his feelings for you. He’d resolved to spend the night getting drunk in a vaguely familiar dive bar because it’s making his skin itch being this close and not seeing you, and he needs something to take the edge off. He’s two shots in when the blonde approaches him. Five by the time she leads him into the bathroom and he fucks her, which is what you walk into.

Jeans down by his ankles, balls deep in a stranger.

It’s the look on your face that kills him. He pulls out almost immediately, the blonde protesting profusely.

It’s as he’s tugging his jeans back up over his hips that he realises the reason this bar seems so familiar is because he’s been here before, three months ago with you. You’d been scoping it out for a bachelorette party, your friend Cindy was getting married. The blonde he’s fucking, she’s wearing a silk sash that says bride to be.

You’re in the parking lot when he catches up with you, phone clutched in your hand as you stand in the cold, waiting for an Uber. You’re wearing a forest green playsuit, cinched at the waist with black boots and nothing else. Already the temperature is dropping, he can feel the bite in the air as he strips his jacket from his shoulders and drapes around yours.

“You can’t do this.” You say gesturing at the jacket. “You can’t do boyfriend stuff like this and then tell me that you don’t care.”

It’s not just the jacket, it’s the other stuff too. Calling you from the road to check in every so often, driving over twelve hours to comfort you after another ranger was torn apart in front of you, the souvenirs he brings back from his travels because he knows you’ll get a kick out of them.

“I do care.” He responds forcefully, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And that’s the problem. I care about you so fucking much, I’m going out of my mind not being with you.”  

“Then what the fuck was that?” You ask him, jabbing your finger back at the bar.

“That’s what I do to forget you, I get drunk and then I fuck.” He snaps, his voice wrought with frustration. “And even that doesn’t work because the only thing that gets me there is thinking of you when we’re…”

He gives you a look and you know exactly what he fantasies about when he’s inside other women.

“Dean, I’m tired of this shit.” You say as the black Uber pulls up at the curb. “You either want me or you don’t and until you figure that out I don’t think we should see each other anymore. It only complicates things.”

You slip out of his jacket and Dean can feel his heart breaking as you hand it back to him.

“You know where I am if you want to find me.” You say as you open the car door, climb inside, slamming it shut behind you. He watches as the car pulls away from the curb before he sighs and heads inside for another drink.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

Okay. I have a lot to explain. First:

Listen- I am REALLY sorry for not drawing a lot. For the last month (by this point it’s probably been a month), I’ve been really, really behind on drawing and TSAMS lore. I don’t really feel that I’m apart of the fandom anymore. I just lost all my energy to actually dedicate myself to the lore of the show. I feel exhausted. Plus, school isn’t helping. For the last two weeks it’s been kind of hard for me, I mean aside from my trip, but then I had to catch up on work then do 1 project. I had two tests today.

Art block is hitting hard and I hope you understand. I just feel like I want to draw, I have a lot of ideas, I just can never get a result I actually like. It’s a process of drawing and deleting all my progress. I feel like it’s either 1., I make too much art, which in turn exhausts me further, or 2., I don’t make art at all. I’ve just been lurking around Tumblr and going around, like “oh I’m so going to draw this”, but I’m realizing that I definitely do not have enough energy to draw anything TSBS right now.

My main focus at the moment is school and school only. I hope you understand this because I had a shit ton of late work I had to do from the days I missed while I was away (7 fucking pages), and I had to zoom through that, THEN I had the science test. I had my math test today and I did well and now I’m tired af. I just don’t feel like drawing in general, period. Coloring maybe, but I just have too many things to do OUTSIDE of drawing online on here. Basically this is just me taking a small break. I’m sorry that content may be slower on my account, but I feel like I need this or else I will eventually just actually pass out from the stress. No one did nothing wrong aside from me. I’m just torturing myself. My brain hurts and my sleep schedule is damaged. Planning events is NOT fun and every weekend, I seriously just want a break, but OH someone’s coming over or we’re doing something or we’re going somewhere. I seriously cannot take a break unless I have NOTHING TO DO, which is kind of impossible considering my mother’s plans.

I just don’t feel like drawing. I feel like I’m starting to sleep more early everyday. My mind is a mess. It hurts. It hurts.

I’m just so sorry about this. I hope you guys understand I may not be in the best mental state (even if I act like I’m not, and same at with school, @kiwikay3 …), and I don’t feel like drawing for a bit. Just expect me to give you updates once in a while and maybe that’s it. Just don’t expect a ton of content or doodles from me.

This problem has nothing to do with you guys, I just want you to know this and know what to expect from me from now on. I’ll catch up with all my art requests and things like that eventually, I just feel like school has taken a toll on me. On my health. But, just myself overall. I don’t want anyone to worry. I’ll probably be active less and less so it’s fine if you unfollow me or something because I feel like I’ve already failed you all, and I’ve already reached the peak of my art journey (mid-October or so). I’m so sorry but I feel like when I write these I just get so emotional and I can’t really describe any of it in words. I’m probably going to sleep after this before I actually start crying. I’m actually so annoyed and sad and I just feel so many emotions. My brother is not helping, because HE does not care about his physical health so me and my parents do instead.

Sorry. Thank you all.

I feel like I’m going to have a mental breakdown fuck i hate this

[bellyaz]

1,000mgs

“Thanks, Ky.” Jade huffed, thanking her good friend/RA who held the door open for her as she walked waddled into her dorms with bags of food.

She barely got her reply out. Her mind was occupied with an edible that she described as “ain’t shit” about an hour ago and trying to balance the weight of her bags.

“Fasho.” He replied. “You clearly bouta eat good.” He joked.

She let out a quick laugh to hide her embarrassment.

She hadn’t realized how much she ordered. After her edible hit, she was mindlessly scrolling through Door Dash and adding whatever looked good to her cart.

“You know they be putting little ass orders in big ass bags.” She said, trying to deflect.

He gave her a knowing look and nodded.

“You need some help?” He asked right before she turned the corner.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks tho.”

“Ight. Don’t forget room checks later!” He shouted as she scurried onto the elevator.

The walk to her room felt like forever. Her stomach was growling and she felt positively buzzed. She finally got in her room and placed her meals on the bed. She caught a glimpse of herself in her full body mirror.

“Mccht.” She sucked her teeth as she realized the bottom of her stomach was poking out of her hoodie and her shorts had rolled up.

A wave of embarrassment washed over her as she examined her new frame. She looked a whole lot different two years ago compared to now.

She was never skinny, but she stayed in shape. She even played intramural volleyball her freshman year. But she got lazy during that summer.

Now here she was, 6 months and 40 pounds later doing her Friday night routine.

Getting high, ordering a fuck load of food, then gorging herself.

She pulled her hoodie & shirt, (which recently stopped covering the underside of her belly) up so her stomach could be exposed. Her bottom lip was immediately tucked between her teeth as if it were an involuntary reflex. She used her middle and ring finger to jiggle the bottom of her belly before completely stripping her hoodie off and pulling her shirt that clung to her skin down.

She put her headphones on before tearing the food bags open and mindlessly shoving fries in her mouth while inspecting the rest of her orders.

She placed her feast in neat piles:

4 chicken sandwiches

12 boneless wings (easier to eat)

1 basket of fries

1 large mac and cheese

8 ranch dipping sauces

1 large Diet Coke (for balance of course), no ice

1 pint of Milk & Cookies ice cream

1 box of white cheddar Cheez it’s

She pouted as she reached into the empty fry container, not realizing she’d finished before she even got to sit down.

Placing her chair in front of her mirror, she sat down and spread her legs to make room for her stomach which already felt a little heavier.

She started with a sandwich. Her eyes rolled back as she took the biggest bite she could. The flavors were enhanced because of her inebriated state.

“Mmm,” a satisfied moan slipped out of her mouth.

She reached for a wing as she tried to rationalize her purchase.

The sandwiches were 2 for 1, I literally had to get them with the meal deal. She thought. And I only eat this crazy once a week. I deserve it.

She gulped down a quarter of her drink and let out a belch.

She giggled and excused herself before sticking her finger in her bellybutton.

I’ll save the two other sandwiches for tomorrow.

She finished off her sandwich whilst mindlessly scrolling through her social media before reaching for another one.

She cracked open one of the dipping sauces and poured it over her next bite. Another eye roll, moan, and a tap to the belly followed.

This process repeated itself until the second sandwich disappeared.

She pulled at the bottom of her shirt & the band of her bra, which was seemingly getting tighter and more uncomfortable with each fattening swallow.

She debated getting up to take it off but her greed overpowered this thought.

She cracked open the lid on the Mac and cheese before licking up a bite with her tongue. She chewed as she looked for a utensil in the bag but realized there were none.

“Always forgetting somethin’.” She whispered, annoyed.

She put the container up to her mouth and let gravity do the work until a mouthful of the greasy, gooey, fatty substance plopped her mouth. She poured some ranch directly into her mouth then put the rest on top of the remaining Mac & Cheese and decided she would finish it later when she got a utensil of her own.

Her focus was back on the wings. She plopped one into her mouth while still trying to take down the Mac and cheese.

“Fuck.” She exhaled between labored breaths, taking a break from chewing.

She placed her hand under her stomach for support. She suckef her fingers clean on the other hand before grabbing her gut from the side.

She whined, pouted, and squirmed at the sight in front of her. She looked like the definition of gluttony.

Her shirt was a little stained from the constant fondling, she could see the indent of the band of her bra was engulfed by her back rolls through her shirt, her shorts were basically hidden beneath her gut, and she was bloated beyond recognition.

This definitely wasn’t the biggest she’d looked, but it had been a while since she’d gone this far.

As she finally swallowed her food, she picked up her drink once again.

She pulled the band of her shorts over her gut and pulled her shirt down.

She turned to the side, lifted up her boobs with her arm, and started chugging.

She watched as her belly slowly but surely started poking out of her clothes. Every time she wanted to stop, she would simply look down and see more skin, and it gave her the push she needed to keep going.

Finally, she heard the rattle of the empty cup and threw it down before whining and burping uncontrollably.

She finally stood up to take her bra off but was taken aback by how much her gut weighed her down and how much of her skin was showing.

She hissed, finally begging to feel the effects of everything that was packed in her gut so far.

She couldn’t help but to slap, poke, and prod at her gut.

She pulled her shirt down but it bounced right back into place, exposing a good portion of her lower belly.

“Oh my god-“ she dragged before stuffing her finger into her bellybutton then shaking her distended gut.

She grabbed the ice cream that was partially melted and chugged it down whilst continuing her motion.

The creamy fattening treat coated her throat and started dripping down her chin a little.

She grabbed onto her belly as she continued taking gulps of the sweet treat.

She was so entranced in herself the she barely had time to react to the knock on her door.

“RA, swiping in.”

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (Part 4) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.1k notes: please let me know what you think <3

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram

tw: past abusive relationship, also, things are going to be more explicit from here

Kaz and y/n were on her bed. She was wearing little to no clothes, and they were slowly working on getting him to some level of undressing. Inej would be back in a week, and his nerves were preventing him from being more at ease. y/n was seated on his lap, her legs on his sides, and was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, talking to him, kissing him, keeping him distracted from her fingers. Kaz, on the other hand, was fighting with half of his brain not to throw up and the other half not to react too evidently to their position. y/n was so close that he was sure she would be able to feel any changes. He knew she wouldn’t mind, but he would want to erase himself from the earth.

“Kaz, breathe,” she reminded him. His shirt was open, and she was taking in the sight of his upper body.

“Stop biting your lip,” he said playfully.

“Sorry, you’re a good view,” she replied, smiling.

She waited for him to steady himself a bit and was about to touch his chest when they heard someone screaming outside.

“y/n, where the fuck are you?”

The girl paled. “No, no, no. Who the fuck let him in?” she said, panicking. She quickly got up and put on a robe.

Someone kept shouting angrily for her. “y/n, what is going on?” asked Kaz, worried. He had never seen her embarrassed about anything, and there she was, trembling with wide eyes.

“My ex-boyfriend,” she whispered. “I have to try and get him out,” she said before leaving the room.

Kaz listened to the loud noise. They were both screaming. A brutal bang followed by her crying in pain made him jump out of the bed and storm out of the room, just to witness the guy slamming her into the wall. Kaz grabbed him by the shoulders and forcefully got him out of the apartment, while the other guy kept shouting.

“Who are you? Another one of her clients or one of her boyfriends? That whore is going to ruin you too,” he spat before Kaz threw him down the stairs.

He found her crying on the floor, her temple bloodied, and she was holding her right side. It was the first glimpse of her real life that he saw. Kaz let her compose herself a bit, then helped her up, hissing in pain.

“Can you take me to the police?” she asked with puffy eyes. He nodded, and they gathered their things and got in the car.

The silence was heavy. “Do you want to talk about it?” Kaz needed desperately to know more.

“He was my client. I fell for him. Of course, things didn’t work out because he couldn’t bear the idea of me keeping my job while staying with him.” She talked in brief points, like she had told the story a million times. “Then he started beating the shit out of me regularly so I couldn’t work. It took me months to get out of it. Sometimes he still gets drunk and—” her voice trailed off. Kaz’s hand was already on her thigh, and he squeezed it reassuringly.

They spent some time at the police station, where they blamed her for her bad choices in men. Kaz felt his stomach sink at her defeated face.

“I can call an Uber, there’s no need for you to take me back home,” she whispered once outside. All of his cells screamed that it was the right thing to let her go.

“I’m not letting you go back to that place tonight. You’re staying with me,” he stated firmly.

y/n froze. “Kaz, you already did enough, there’s no need to—”

“y/n, I’m serious. Don’t worry.”

“I… I don’t want to make this weird.”

“It’s not. Come on,” he insisted, opening the car door for her. She hesitantly got inside.

“Can we get McDonald’s?” she asked in a small voice.

He chuckled. “Weren’t you a vegan?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, letting a nervous laugh escape her lips.

On the drive to his place, they made a detour to the nearest McDonald’s drive-thru.

“What do you want?” he asked her.

“Uhm, a Happy Meal, with chicken nuggets.”

“A Happy Meal? That’s all you’re going to eat?” Kaz raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Yes,” she replied with a small smile.

Kaz shook his head, bemused, then ordered two of his usual Big Mac meals and one Happy Meal. As they drove, the car filled with the scent of fast food, providing a strange sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the evening.

When they arrived at his apartment, Kaz opened the door and ushered her inside. “I like your house,” she said, looking around appreciatively at the minimalist, yet cozy decor.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the couch while he changed into something more comfortable. When he returned, she was seated, her Happy Meal open on the coffee table, the TV already set to Netflix.

They ate in silence, the soft glow of the television casting a warm light over the room. Kaz watched her as she nibbled on her nuggets, her appetite seeming even smaller in his spacious living room.

After just two nuggets, she declared, “I’m full.”

“Are you sure?” he insisted, concerned she wasn’t eating enough. She nodded, avoiding his gaze and playing with the toy she found in the happy meal. 

“I have something for bruises that works really well. I’ll get it for you,” Kaz said, leaving her momentarily to retrieve a small jar of cream from the bathroom. Returning, he found her waiting patiently, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion and pain.

She tilted her head to let him apply the cream to the bruise on her temple, then lifted her shirt slightly to expose the large, darkening bruise forming on her side. Kaz’s hands trembled slightly as he tried to avoid touching her breast, focusing solely on the task at hand. The proximity was intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

“All done,” he said, pulling away and snapping the lid back onto the jar.

“Thanks, Kaz,” she murmured. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No way, I’ll take the couch,” he countered immediately.

“I am not going to let you leave me your bed. Come on,” she insisted.

“I wasn’t asking,” he said firmly.

y/n sighed, looking at him for a long moment. “We can sleep in the same bed. We already did it,” she said softly.

Kaz held his breath, memories flooding back. Yes, they had slept together, but under very different circumstances—circumstances that involved a transaction. 

“I mean, if you’re comfortable with it,” she added quickly, sensing his hesitation.

“I thought you didn’t work outside your house,” he said, cursing himself for what he was implying.

y/n smiled, a small, genuine smile that reached her eyes. “I’m not working tonight.”

Kaz's heart pounded in his chest. “Okay, then. Let’s get some sleep,” he said, trying to sound casual.

They made their way to his bedroom. The room was simple, yet elegant, with dark wood furniture and crisp white linens. Kaz rummaged through his wardrobe to find something for her to sleep in, carefully avoiding the section where Inej's clothes hung—a stark reminder of the boundaries he was perilously close to crossing. He handed y/n a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, averting his gaze as she changed in front of him. The intimacy of the moment made his heart race, but he forced himself to look away, focusing instead on the patterns in the wood grain of the floor.

Kaz slid into bed, feeling the cool sheets against his skin, while y/n brushed her teeth in the bathroom. The mundane sounds of running water and the rustle of clothes brought a strange sense of normalcy to the otherwise charged atmosphere. When she finally joined him, she maintained a respectful distance, both of them lying on their sides facing each other.

"Thanks, Kaz," she said, her voice soft and earnest. "No one ever stepped in for me like this." Her eyes locked onto his, seeming to pierce right through him, searching for something deeper. She rested a hand on the space between them, a silent invitation, leaving the choice to him.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. He felt the weight of her gaze, the sincerity in her voice, and the vulnerability in her posture. Slowly, he reached out and covered her hand with his. The cold of her skin against his sent a jolt through him, but it also brought an unexpected sense of comfort.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do or say. The lines between them had always been clear, but now they were blurred, muddied by the raw emotions of the night. y/n shifted closer, her cold feet brushing against his legs, sending a shiver up his spine. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, a stark contrast to the confident persona she usually displayed.

"Great kiss moment," she whispered with a faint smile, breaking the tension. Kaz couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her words. She turned onto her other side, putting some distance between them once more.

As he lay there, Kaz’s mind raced. He thought about Inej, about the promises he had made to himself and to her. He thought about y/n, her vulnerability, and the strange connection that had formed between them. He knew he was treading dangerous waters, but there was something about her that drew him in, something he couldn’t quite understand.

The room was silent, save for the soft sounds of their breathing. Kaz stared at the ceiling, his mind a tangled web of thoughts and emotions. He wondered what it would be like to let go, to allow himself to feel something more. But then, the image of Inej’s face would flash before his eyes, anchoring him back to reality.

Kaz knew he couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. He needed to make a choice, to decide where his loyalties lay and what he truly wanted. But for now, as he lay next to y/n, he allowed himself to simply be. The warmth of her hand in his, the sound of her breathing, the quiet moments of connection—they were enough to bring him a sense of peace, however fleeting it might be.

In the silence of the night, Kaz closed his eyes, holding onto that sliver of peace. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new decisions to make. But for now, in the quiet darkness, he allowed himself to rest.

Kaz was caught in a dreamlike haze, the remnants of a fleeting and indistinct dream still lingering in his mind. He couldn't quite grasp the details, only the sensation of floating, a distant voice calling out to him. In the dream, he felt warmth beside him, and instinctively pulled someone closer, murmuring softly, "Nej." But instead of Inej, his nose was filled with the unexpected scent of cherries, and a voice cut through the haze, bringing him abruptly back to reality.

"I'm not Inej, Kaz," y/n's voice sounded, her sleepy eyes unexpectedly close to his own as he abruptly opened his eyes. 

"Good morning," she greeted with a tight smile, but Kaz was still struggling to process the situation. "You can let me go now, love," she nudged gently. "I mean, I can feel you're happy to see me but—" Kaz quickly pulled his arm away from her waist, putting some distance between them.

"I can make breakfast, if you want," she offered, stretching her arms. Kaz tried to inject some lightness into his voice, asking in his sleepy rasp, "Can you cook?" His attempt at humor came out harsher than intended.

"Of course I can cook. I've been living alone since forever," she commented as she got up from the bed. That was perhaps the third thing Kaz had learned about her.

"I'm coming. I just... need a minute," Kaz muttered, feeling embarrassed, but y/n chuckled softly in response.

As they ate breakfast, Kaz gradually realized that she had cooked just for him, while she herself ate a piece of bread and sipped coffee. "Fuck, you're vegan, sorry I forgot—" he began, only to be interrupted by y/n shaking her head.

"It's fine. I never have breakfast," she reassured him, marking the fourth thing he learned about her. “And do you mean that you forgot? Were you planning on inviting me over?” she added playfully. “It came out wrong,” he chuckled. 

"Can I take a shower? I have some things to do around here, and it would be great not having to go back home," she asked after finishing her coffee, and Kaz nodded agreeably, still focused on his meal.

Kaz checked his phone absently, sending a good morning text to Inej and reviewing his Google calendar for the day. Just as he was settling into the day's routine, a loud knock on the door shattered the tranquility.

"Kaz, it's Jesper. I know you're in here," Jesper's voice called out from beyond the door.

Kaz cursed under his breath, realizing in an instant that he was not alone. Two cups and two plates on the table, her purse left on the couch—all clear evidence that he couldn't hide.

"There you are," Jesper greeted upon entering with his spare key, spotting Kaz frozen at the kitchen table. "Kaz, are you alright?" he asked, concern etching his features.

Kaz struggled to find the right words, knowing Jesper was seconds away from discovering he wasn't alone. "Did you have breakfast twice or are you behind on washing dishes?" Jesper inquired casually, though his eyes wandered and inevitably landed on y/n's bag.

"Look, Jes, it's not a good moment. Can you come back later?" Kaz attempted to deflect, hoping to buy some time.

"What do you mean, not a good moment?" Jesper persisted, his eyes scanning the room and fixing on y/n's belongings. "Kaz, are you alone?" he raised his brows pointedly.

"Of course I'm alone," Kaz replied quickly, but before he could say more, y/n's voice echoed from the bathroom.

"Kaz! I can't find your blow dryer," she called out, appearing in the doorway with damp hair. Jesper's mouth fell open at the sight.

Kaz looked heavenward, silently grateful that she was wearing clothes. She had pulled on her leggings and the shirt Kaz had lent her to sleep in, but it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Drops of water from her hair were staining the white shirt further, adding to the awkwardness of the moment.

"Kaz? Why is this girl here and why is she wearing your clothes?" Jesper's voice cut through the silence.

"I'm not wearing his clothes," y/n interjected quickly, but Jesper pointed to the writing on her shirt.

"That shirt says 'from Jesper.' I gave it to him," Jesper pointed out.

"My grandma's name is Jesper," y/n quipped with a hint of amusement, unable to hide a smirk. Kaz couldn't help but snort loudly at her attempt to divert the attention away from the awkward situation, and Jesper redirected his focus back to Kaz.

"I can't believe you. You're actually cheating on Inej," Jesper accused sharply.

"I'm not cheating," Kaz retorted, feeling defensive.

"Then what are you doing? Come on, Kaz, how much evidence can you try to negate?" Jesper pressed on, his frustration palpable.

Kaz and y/n exchanged a quick glance, and Kaz noticed a pang of guilt in her eyes. He wanted to tell her that his web of lies wasn't her fault. He weighed his options, contemplating whether to come clean and explain their arrangement, hoping Jesper would understand. Or he could let Jesper think he was cheating on Inej, knowing Jesper would likely go and tell her himself.

"Look, Jesper, it's not what you think," Kaz began, trying to choose his words carefully.

"Then what the fuck is this?" Jesper demanded.

"She's helping me with—" Kaz started to explain, but y/n cut in bluntly.

"I'm a sex worker," she blurted out, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability.

Jesper's jaw dropped, stunned into silence. "You're even paying to cheat on her? Saints, Kaz, with her history? A... a whore?" Jesper's words came out in disbelief and anger.

"Don't call her that," Kaz snapped, rising from his seat defensively. "Oh, sorry, how should I call her?" Jesper mocked back, his tone laced with disdain.

"It's just a temporary arrangement, Jesper. It's not... I'm doing it for Inej," Kaz tried to explain, feeling the weight of Jesper's judgment bearing down on him.

"Yeah, right. Do you even listen to yourself?" Jesper retorted sharply, his frustration evident.

"I should leave," y/n murmured quietly, hurt evident in her eyes.

"Yes, you fucking should," Jesper responded harshly.

Kaz and y/n made their way to the door together, their exit punctuated by a tense silence. "Kaz, I'm so sorry. I—" y/n began apologetically.

"It's not your fault. I'll try to handle him," Kaz reassured her, placing his hand over hers on the doorknob. Their eyes met for a brief moment, unspoken understanding passing between them, before she nodded and left.

Kaz turned back to face Jesper, bracing himself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. The tension in the room was palpable, and it didn't take long for their exchange to escalate into a full-blown argument. Voices were raised, accusations were hurled, and the air crackled with frustration.

Kaz tried desperately to make his friend understand his reasons, explaining his need to acclimate to human touch for Inej's sake. But Jesper, his skepticism deeply rooted, remained unconvinced. "Look," Jesper said, his voice weary from hours of arguing, "I don't want to know anything. I still don't know if I should believe you or not, because you've been in love with Inej since the first time you laid eyes on her. Just don't hurt her, Kaz, and don't hurt yourself too."

Kaz nodded, equally exhausted. The weight of Jesper's words pressed heavily on his shoulders, mingling with his own doubts and fears. Despite the exhaustion, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about y/n, wondering what she was doing, how she was feeling. The argument with Jesper had only intensified his concern.

He gave in and texted her, ‘Everything okay?’ The minutes felt like hours as he waited for a response, his mind conjuring up all sorts of scenarios. Finally, his phone buzzed with a reply—a picture of a piercing studio. Kaz frowned, curiosity piqued. He stared at the image, wondering what she was up to and if she was okay.

Just as he was about to text her back, another message came in, this time from Inej. It was a picture of her suspended in the air, performing one of her daring acrobatic feats. A rush of anxiety washed over him, a familiar sensation whenever he saw her in such precarious situations. ‘Be careful,’ he replied, feeling a pang of protectiveness. Moments later, a heart emoji popped up on his screen, and he couldn't help but smile.

Still, the unresolved tension from his argument with Jesper gnawed at him. He knew he needed to clear his head, to find a way to balance the complex web of his relationships. He couldn't afford to let his emotions spiral out of control. He decided to distract himself by diving into work, hoping that focusing on tasks would help him regain some semblance of calm.

Hours passed as Kaz immersed himself in his work, but his mind kept drifting back to y/n. The image of the piercing studio lingered in his thoughts, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to check on her. He picked up his phone and typed out another message, ‘What are you getting pierced?’ He hit send, half expecting a quick reply and half preparing himself for silence. And she didn’t answer.

***

Three days before Inej’s arrival, Kaz found himself once again on the familiar couch in the dimly lit apartment. He sat there, rigid and tense, while the usual girl was lounging nearby, engrossed in her phone and watching TikToks. From y/n's room, the most wild, unabashed sounds were emanating, echoing through the otherwise quiet space.

“Please, please, I want more,” y/n cried out, her voice laced with desperation. “I can take it.”

Kaz felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. The secretary snorted at his obvious discomfort, still not looking away from her phone. “I think she’s trying to prove a point,” she observed nonchalantly. Her detachment only added to Kaz’s awkwardness.

Kaz didn't know how to respond. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rawness of y/n's cries making him feel a strange mix of emotions. The haunting words from her friends—‘Wait until he discovers that you’re an animal in bed’—kept replaying in his mind, a mantra that fueled his sense of inadequacy. Despite his attempts to focus elsewhere, her pleading grew more and more desperate, wrapping around his thoughts like a suffocating fog.

Finally, the sounds ceased, and Kaz exhaled a breath. The oppressive silence that followed was almost as unbearable as the noise that had preceded it.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to y/n's room opened. Two men emerged, still adjusting their ties and elbowing each other with satisfied grins. They barely spared Kaz a glance as they left, their casual departure a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside him.

Kaz waited, listening to the faint rustle of sheets and the muffled sounds of y/n moving around her room. It took longer than usual for her to call for him. When she finally did, her voice was subdued, almost hesitant.

“Kaz, you can come in now.”

He rose from the couch, steeling himself as he approached her door. Inside, y/n was fixing the pillows on her bed, her movements precise and mechanical. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and something more primal, a lingering reminder of what had transpired.

“Sorry, I had to... clean up,” she said, not meeting his gaze. Her tone was matter-of-fact, but Kaz detected a subtle undercurrent of something else—perhaps fatigue, or maybe a hint of regret.

Kaz swallowed hard, feeling a tight knot form in his stomach. He knew he should say something, anything, to break the tension, but words failed him. Instead, he found himself staring at the freshly made bed, the pristine white sheets a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind.

When she turned, Kaz's eyes fell on the two matching love bites adorning the sides of her neck. The sight triggered a violent surge of jealousy, his mind involuntarily conjuring images of the two men kissing her at the same time. It made him want to beat them unconscious.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” she sighed, collapsing onto the bed.

“Come here, babe. What do you want to do?” she asked, and Kaz mechanically sat next to her, pulling her closer. 

“No shirt?” he proposed, letting his hand linger in her hair.

“Nasty,” she commented playfully.

Like the other day, she straddled him, her legs on either side of his hips. She began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers deftly working each button until she could slide it off and throw it to the floor. The feel of her hands on his bare chest made his heart race, every touch sending electric shocks through his nerves.

“Talk to me, Kaz,” she whispered, her hands exploring his trembling chest.

He closed his eyes firmly, trying to steady his breath. “Were they good?” he asked, unable to shake the image of the two satisfied men leaving her room.

“Yes, actually,” she said, her hands wandering over his arms. She reached his hands and guided them to rest on her waist. 

“Do you like it? When there are more than one?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she said again, her breath warm against his neck.

He flinched at her answer, a knot of tension tightening in his gut. She seemed to sense his discomfort and tickled him with her nose, a soft, affectionate gesture that distracted him momentarily.

Kaz’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The possessiveness, the jealousy, and the confusion about his own desires and boundaries swirled within him. But amidst it all, there was an underlying need to understand her, to connect with her on a level that went beyond their current arrangement.

“Why?” he found himself asking, his voice raw with vulnerability. “Why do you like it?”

She paused, her eyes searching his face. “Because it makes me feel desired,” she said softly. “It’s not about the number of people, Kaz. It’s about the feeling of being wanted, of being the center of attention. It’s a rush.”

y/n pressed her body against his chest, or Kaz pulled her closer until there was no space between them—he had no idea. His breath was fast, his ribcage convulsing against her bra. He felt her lips on his neck, her hands tangled in his hair. “Did you come?” he whispered.

“Twice,” she murmured against his skin.

y/n rolled her hips on his, making him hiss. “Do you like to think about it, Kaz?” she whispered in his ear, her voice a seductive purr. “How everyone gets to fuck me, apart from you?” Her hips stopped moving, and he instinctively started guiding them with his hands still on her waist. “Do you want to know how good they make me feel? How good you could make me feel?”

Kaz felt the control of the situation slipping away from him, yet he craved every word, every movement. He wanted her to keep talking, to keep moving against him, making him feel so close to heaven he swore he saw the light. “I’m just waiting for you, love,” she purred before pressing her lips on his. Kaz felt his hands sliding on her back like he had always wanted to do. Soft moans escaped from both of them, and he was feeling less and less ashamed of them. One hand went to her hair, as usual, while the other pressed her more into him, increasing the friction between them.

He was close, so close.

Abruptly, his thoughts went to Inej—sweet, loving Inej—and he interrupted the kiss, moving her away. “Stop, stop. Safe word, whatever,” he said, passing a hand over his face and through his hair. Kaz was fighting for his life, while y/n casually lay on the bed, looking at him like a cat would watch a small mouse.

She cocked her head, her eyes glinting with curiosity and something darker. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Kaz nodded, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breath. “I can’t do this... not like this.”

“What was that?” Kaz asked, locking eyes with her, his voice a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Just wanting to make you feel good. You were finally letting go,” she replied, her tone sharp, a stark contrast to her usual calm demeanor.

“I’m not here to let go,” he said almost angrily, his frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Yes, you are,” she shot back, her eyes blazing with a challenge.

“I have a girlfriend,” he countered, trying to remind himself of his boundaries.

“You are my client,” she retorted, harshly. The words cut through the room like a knife, leaving a tense silence in their wake.

Kaz's head shot in her direction, his confusion deepening. Was she mad? Were they fighting?”

“Your girlfriend is not my concern, you are,” she snapped, shrugging off her see-through robe and exposing herself even more. It was a calculated move, a way to push him to the edge. Kaz could see through her tactics, the way she was trying to set some distance between them. She let him hear her with the two men, she edged him until he was about to lose control. A desperate try of letting him see who she truly was. Her nails attracted his focus, they were long and bright red. He hated them. 

“You are here because you want to stay with her, and I am here because I never get enough,” she said, stepping closer and kissing his cheek with an almost cruel tenderness.

“I think you should go,” she added, her voice cold and final.

She was right, but he didn’t want to leave. He had no idea what he wanted anymore. His emotions were a tangled mess, his mind torn between guilt, desire, and confusion.

“You’re trying to push me away,” he accused, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

“Maybe I am,” she admitted, her eyes hard. “Maybe you need to see what this really is.”

Kaz clenched his fists, struggling to keep his composure. “I’m not some project for you to manipulate.”

“And I’m not some placeholder for your girlfriend!” she shot back, her voice rising. “You come here, seeking something you can’t get from her, and yet you act like I’m the one crossing the line?”

“You don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m trying to deal with my issues, to be better for her.”

“And using me in the process?” she challenged, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s not fair, Kaz.”

He took a deep breath, his frustration boiling over. “I never wanted this to become complicated. I just wanted to—”

“To what?” she interrupted. “To fix yourself without getting your hands dirty? Life doesn’t work that way, Kaz.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. Kaz felt a lump in his throat, his mind racing.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked at him, her expression softening slightly. “Figure it out, Kaz. And until you do, maybe it’s best if we don’t see each other.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

He turned and left the room, each step feeling heavier than the last. As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving a part of himself behind.

***

Of course, it didn't last long. Kaz was outside her apartment, watching the light in her room and her silhouette moving around. It was past 2 in the morning, and he was drunk. He promised himself that if her light was off, he would drive back home. He cursed her for being awake, feeling the familiar pull of his conflicting desires. Kaz waited to be sure she was alone, then pulled out his phone and confirmed a transfer of 1500 kruge to her account, labeling it “I'm outside.”

[ladyrowrites]

Promise Part 2

A/N: So part 2 is a bit long because I was in my writing zone.. Also, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Pairings: Gojo x Afab reader

Warning: SMUT!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Lots of angst and swearing, mentions of cheating/alcohol, some degrading tones and smoking

Wordcount: 6k+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

CHAPTER 2: Lists

Tears just started pouring in the moment you left your once shared home. As you turned around, you felt Gojo’s cries in your heart. But this is the consequence, you keep thinking to yourself. It took a lot of courage to walk away from someone you once loved, and still love, but he literally broke you. Physically(metaphorically) and emotionally. 

You sank down outside the lobby and put your left hand to your heart. You had a ring this morning as a sign of love and promise, but you would’ve never thought you’d return it. Not in a million years.

You see someone coming to you, but you can’t see who it was as your vision is blurred from all the tears.

“Y/N?”

You look up with your hand in your hair, “Suguru?”

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Where’s Satoru?” Suguru looked at you worriedly, not knowing what to do. This looked serious and with your luggage packed to the brim. He never saw you like this. What is going on?

You laughed bitterly and your crying slowed down, “Can you take me to Utahime’s house?” Utahime was your loving childhood best friend. It just popped in your mind how correct she was. Damn it, you should have walked away when you had the chance. In your state, you couldn’t drive. No, you may be numb, but not stupid to die like this. But you felt like you were.

“Uhm, sure. What happened?” Suguru started to help you get up and help you get in his car. He then put your luggage in the trunk. You opened the windows to get some air and stared at the night sky. Why the fuck is it dark blue? Why does it have to be this blue of all nights? The stars were shining so brightly too that you thought how fucking unfair life is.

Suguru was tapping you lightly at your shoulder. You looked at him briefly but looked away again. You could not for the life of you bring this up now to Suguru, his best friend. You don’t know how to start. Oh, yeah his best friend, my fiance, ex-fiance? Shit, he was an ex now. Your mind started to spiral… How about your wedding dress? The venue? It’s been paid already! The cake? The guest list? Shit, your guests! NOW YOU HAVE TO UN-INVITE THEM? WHAT THE FUCK?

“Y/N? Y/N? Hey, are you okay?” Suguru was alarmed at how you are so quiet and you look like you were about to vomit on how pale you look.

His voice brought you back to reality, “Oh uhm, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the right headspace right now.” You frustratingly ran your hair back as if wanting to get it off of you. 

“Okay, I just want to know if you’re okay.”

“Suguru!! Just stop asking questions. Alright? I’M OKAY! Clearly!” He looked at you surprised. The moment you said it, you apologized right away. You didn’t mean to put all your anger into him. Definitely, the wrong person. 

He just nodded and drove you to Utahime’s house quietly. When you arrived, he gave you your luggage. 

You thanked him and said, “Suguru, Satoru and I are done.” 

Suguru couldn’t believe what he heard. No this can’t be true, you two were in love. About to be married. What the fuck did Satoru do? He was about to reply but you walked inside the building already. He immediately called Shoko to see if Satoru said something to her. This could not be happening. 

INSIDE UTAHIME’S CONDO –

“I’m going to fucking KILL HIM!!!!!!” Utahime was furious, as rightfully so. She was hugging you so tight, wishing this would be enough.

You were off and on crying. After all that wedding preparations, it took you 8 months to finally complete it. You didn’t hire a wedding planner because you wanted to personally organize it even though Gojo said he will pay for one. That fucker. Fuck, you loved him so much you gave him your everything even though there was nothing left to give.

“You should’ve fucking slap him! BURY HIM! Well if you can’t I WILL FOR YOU!!” Utahime said while soothing your back. It’s 5am in the morning and your eyes hurt so much from crying but you didn’t even care at this point. 

You got out of the hug and told her, “I can’t stay here. Utahime, I can’t. I will fucking lose my mind if I stay here. In this city. I need to get away. Be gone.” 

“Like a vacation? Where? Where do you want to go? I’ll come with you!” 

You can’t even hear what she is saying because you were pacing back and forth in her living room. You called your work and told them you your quitting and will be giving your 2 week notice. YOU WERE WORKING FULL TIME WHILE PLANNING THE WEDDING YOURSELF! AND HE WAS OUT THERE HAVING WEDDING JITTERS?? FUCKING AND MOANING ANOTHER WOMAN’S NAME! How fucking sad was that? You were going to vomit! You’re literally on your way to the washroom when Utahime follows behind you and helps you by the toilet. She held your long hair. 

“Girlie, you are not? YOU ARE NOT RIGHT?”

You looked up at her, “NO! I’m on my period. I’m just. Ughhhh. I can’t. I feel so sick.” You started bawling again. Utahime was in tears. She never saw you like that. NEVER. She also saw how your ring finger was empty. Now, she is feeling sick as well. What a cruel thing to do, Gojo. She wiped your spit with tissue and flushed the toilet. Then, she held you like your life depended on it. 

In between sobs, you made a list. 

Cut my hair. I never once cut it while I was with him because he said he liked my hair long. Tsssss. NEVER LISTEN TO GUYS! 

Quit work. You just can’t stay in this city. It’s too crowded. It’s him. Every corner, it will be him. You saved enough and you have been wanting to live near the ocean when you are at your most peace.

Move out! You’ll deal with all the wedding stuff once you settle out to a new place.

Utahime promised to help you with all of this. But first, you needed to sleep so she made you your favourite tea to calm you down and tuck you into her bed.

Utahime’s first task is to kill Gojo Satoru. No, ughhhh, but she wants to. But that wouldn’t be fair because that’s too easy of a way out. So she texts your close group friend chat.

GROUP MESSENGER - TIRED BUT RICH GIRLZZ 

To: Mei-Mei, Miwa, Yuki

“911!! Yo, wedding off! That motherfucker fucked a lowlife whore!!! MY CONDO NOW!”

All of them were sitting at Utahime’s couch – confused, hurt, what the fuck feeling

“UGH! Let’s kill him right now! Bury him to that house!” Miwa broke the silence.

Mei laughed, blowing the smoke of her vape, “Miwa, even if we kill him, that won’t help Y/N. This is why I’m only interested in money. Money never breaks your heart ya know?”

Miwa only sighed. They’re all worried about you. You made the quick decision to quit your job right away and move out of the city. They can’t also blame you because Gojo literally took you on dates in every corner of this city. He even proposed to you in your favourite bookstore where he first told you he was in love with you. 

You told him your favourite author has a new book so you wanted to go to your favourite bookstore to get a copy. He happily obliged to accompany you because everywhere with you was bliss. “That’s just an excuse! You just want to get new ones even though you got new ones from last week! Huh!” He pinched your nose cutely.

You pouted, “Uhm no! It’s my fave author! I have to have it! If you don’t want to come you can stay here.” While walking out to the door.

He grabbed you and put a blue scarf on you (He didn’t want you to get cold as you are always easily cold, and it’s winter), “Ahah! Why would I leave my favourite girl alone? Also, I don’t want any other boys looking cute to you.” You just rolled your eyes. 

“What? You’re so gorgeous!” He hugged you and whispered, “You’re all mine, my love!”

You just laughed and grabbed his hand and walked to the bookstore. You loved these small moments with him. The way his white hair falls in his handsome, chiseled face. The way his hands would wrap in yours. You felt safe. You felt home, finally.

You finally found your book and you waved at Gojo so happily like finding money in your pocket unexpectedly. You were smiling so hard that it was melting his heart.

That was when he knew. It was the right time. It has always been you. 

He didn’t hesitate. You were both by the bookstore window and it was the first snow of the year. The perfect moment.

He went down on one knee, “My love, my soul, my everything…” 

You started to tell him, “WAIT! Satoru! The floor is dirty!!!” 

He laughed and everyone around you as well. You just were just so shocked at him and that was the first thing you thought of.

He cleared his throat, “Y/N, love, I’m okay.. I’m going to continue, okay?” You nodded while placing your hand in your mouth. You could not believe what was happening.

“My love, my soul, my everything, I’m not sure if I deserve all your love, but I will try to be the man that you need. You don’t know how much you make me happy. And when you’re not there, it’s like everything is just dark. You literally light up everything in my life.” Satoru started to choke up on his words as he was so emotional, and seeing that you were in tears, “I…I am so in love with you. You are the only woman who I see my future with. I promise to be with you forever until our hairs turn gray. But in my case, more gray I guess? Please grow old with me.” You chuckled as happy tears were falling down your cheeks. 

“Will you do me the honour of being my wife?” While opening the prettiest ring you have ever seen. A big blue sapphire rock in the middle and diamonds surrounding the ring. It was doubled stacked even with more diamonds. Damn, you knew Satoru was not short on cash but you weren’t expecting this breathtaking ring. Everyone ‘awwwwed’ and cried with you when he finished his speech.

You nodded and said, “Yes, my love.”

He took the ring and put it in your left ring finger. You hugged him tight right away and made out with him. He was the only person you see in the sea of people. 

Everyone was cheering, but one heart was breaking.

Gojo never told you, but the proposal was never planned. He bought the ring the second you said you were in love with him too. He was always keeping it in his pocket and kept planning when it was the right time because he wanted it to be perfect. But, unplanned events are always the most memorable ones. It was his favourite memory of you.

You woke up at 3:00pm. Surprised, you were able to sleep for 9 hours. You went out of Utahime's room and were not really surprised to see all your closest friends gathered up like it’s a prayer meeting. They all came to you, hugged, and asked if you are up going to the salon and getting a haircut. 

You were surprised but chuckled at the idea. Utahime did listen to you after all. Your best of friends didn’t even ask you how you are doing as they can tell from your messy bun, tired eyes, and left ring finger. “Can I just get my shit together first?” You softly joked.

“Yeah, you look like shit!” Mei pointed out, but you just rolled your eyes.

“MEI!” Miwa and Utahime yelled, “She’s right tho.” You replied.

“Don’t worry we got you girlie!” Yuki said, squeezing your shoulder, “Come on, take a shower, and then we’ll eat. We’ll get your favourite burger! MY TREAT!” 

“Are you treating me too?” Mei asked, “Girlllll, fuck no, only our special girl here. Before she leaves us somewhere….” Yuki said sadly. Everyone was quiet, but you softly smiled at them. Grateful that they are here with you while you feel literally dying right now. But, you have to stand up and fix yourself right away before you spiral again. If there’s one thing your grandma taught you, it's that you are the only person that can get your shit together and let no man define you. If your grandma saw your state right now, she would be rolling down her grave.

You were great at lists. It keeps you on your feet, not dwelling in the past, even though the trauma you are experiencing is literally right now and not even a day past yet.

Hop in the shower.

Dry your body and hair. As you were looking at yourself in the mirror, you wonder if this body of yours was not enough for him. Was she better? Did she have bigger tits and ass? Did she have longer hair? Was her voice more enticing? UGH! FUCK SPIRALING AGAIN. You shake your thoughts away. 

You slapped yourself lightly. Okay, dry body and hair. You fitted to one of your clothes. YOU MADE SURE NOT TO BRING ANY OF HIS. Or else you’re going to break down.

Put on some light make up, because girl your face is giving shit right now. Your grandma will not like this! Just think of her… You sadly smiled in the mirror. If you can see your insides, you are sure it's full of shattered pieces of your heart. 

You got out of the washroom and all your friends started to hug you again, “Bitches, when I got proposed to, you didn’t hug me this much. Stop! It! It will only make me sadder. Now, let’s go. I need my hair chopped off.”

They smiled and laughed at your comment. When you arrive at the salon, champagne is already ready for you with chocolate covered strawberries. Miwa already called her team to prepare everything. Her family is the owner of the two biggest salons in the city so she got this handled. Your friends insisted on eating first but you said this is more important.

Everyone was looking at you in the mirror, even yourself. Shit, am I sure? I had this long hair for 5 years and now you’re about to part with it - cut it off. You were about to back off, when Utahime, your best friend for life, turned up ‘Work By Rihanna’. THAT WAS YOUR JAM! YOUR SONG! You smiled at her and she gave you a nod. After taking a sip of your champagne, okay not sip, more like a shot, you said, “Fuck it!”

As Trixie began putting your hair in half, putting the clips and slowly cutting the ends, your heart was breaking for the 100th time that day. You were remembering how Gojo caresses your hair and saying how he loves the smell and feel of it. He even used to wash your hair especially when you were too sick to do so. He was a sweet man. Oh fuck, the way he grabs it too when you two make love. UGH FUCK NO! NOT THAT!

You didn’t realize that there were tears on your cheeks. Trixie stopped for a while and asked if they can continue. You just softly smiled and said yes with determined eyes. You let Yuki wipe your tears and mouthed thank you to her.

After that emotionally painful cutting, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked different. This was your haircut (see link)

Of course you know, this wasn’t the solution to your problems but you are a little bit relieved. A small breather. Just a little bit tiny better, maybe less daggers in your heart?

Everyone clapped and praised your new look, saying you look better with this haircut. You wonder if you had this look before, would that be enough for him?

You all decided to take out food and buy all the alcohol in the world and as Mei put it, “the best medicine for heart breaks”

Miwa just shrugged and said, “YAH! Stop saying that Mei. Alcohol is only temporary relief. I think the best thing is finding a new man.”

They all gasped as they did not expect that from Miwa. She just shyly smiled and said, “Oh is it too early?”

Utahime laughed, “Maybe that's after the top 10 things she needs to do. For now, we drink! This is a celebration of letting go of that asshole!”

You all started taking shots of Tequila and after the 3rd shot, everyone was singing with you ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go by Whitney Houston’ because it's Whitney! She was always right with her songs. Where do broken hearts go? Ocean! You sing! You’re moving, that’s it! But that’s in your top 5 later. Tonight, you drown yourself and hopefully forget even just for a moment. Hopefully, Utahime’s neigbours don’t come knocking on the door.

GOJO’S POV:

I fucked up. Plain and simple. Now how do I fix it? Can I even fix it? FUCK! She left. She really left me. She took all her clothes and my heart with her. Why am I like this? Why the fuck did I do this to her? TO US? She was everything LITERALLY good in my life and I had to have wedding jitters? Was it even wedding jitters? I don’t even have the right to have wedding jitters when she is planning every single thing on it.

I told her I would support her but I instead slept with that whore. Well, I guess I am one too. I’ve been running my hands through my hair since she left. Been staring at this ring for way too long. She returned it. FUCK!  I’ve been wanting to call her, get her back to my arms. HUG AND KISS ALL HER PAIN AWAY. How do I get her back? This is eating me alive.

I took a shower and just cried in the tub.

I remember wanting to go home to Y/N as fast as I can, but being the head of the company I have to be present as it is a big merger between Gojo and Watanabe Corporations. It was a successful turnover and of course everyone was in a celebratory mood. 

After all the tiring greetings and fake smiles, I sat down at the end of the bar and drank my whiskey. I promised myself after downing this, I’m going home to you. I know you’ve been tired from all the back and forth from the catering company plus doing all the flower arrangements. It’s been a hectic 8 months for you. I wasn’t really interested in the actual planning.  I just really want to marry you and start the honeymoon. We haven’t been going out, just really us and taking our time to ourselves as we were both busy. So today, when I go home, I will ask you out on a proper date just to give ourselves a break.

I felt someone brush my hands when I was about to pick up my 8th drink. 

“Oh my bad, I didn’t know you were there.” She sweetly smiled at me, she was now talking to the bartender, “One Cosmopolitan please.” She was wearing a Dior perfume, I know this because you have the same perfume. I just nodded at her just to say, it’s all good. I was about to call my driver when she said, “If being handsome was a crime, you’d be guilty as charged.” Then she leans on me while tucking her hair behind.

I knew her face. She has been giving me the eye ever since I did the company’s toast. I just laughed at her pick up line, she then said, “What? Not good enough?” 

She was about to touch my arm when I avoided it, “I’m getting married.” while downing my drink.

“Oh? Who’s the lucky girl? Why is she not here supporting you?” My jaws clenched. She better shut up before—

She suddenly grabbed me in the corner where no one is around, “What the fuck do you think your doing?”

“What? I like you. I think those big hands can be put to use. What do you think?” She winks at me seductively.

“Nah, I’m good. I have a fiancé at home. We’re good. Bye.” I removed her hands from my wrist and started walking, but she made me face her and she started kissing me. For the life of me, I could not, I did not resist. Even when I could have easily just ran from her. I didn’t. I just let her kiss me.

And I was kissing back? What the fuck? Is it because it’s your smell? Am I just this drunk? She then whispered to me, “See? I’m a good kisser. You’re not married YET. Just think of this as your bachelor party.” Fuck, I got hard just from that.

SATORU! FUCKING WAKE UP!!!! SOMEONE WAS WAITING FOR YOU AT HOME. But my legs started to walk back with her leading me to her hotel room.

All I knew was she was stripping us both and we were at the foot of the bed and I could just hear her moaning and  sucking the tip of my shaft. Fuck, why was this so good? She was working her mouth all the way down and I just felt my hands grab her hair, “Yes, Y/N!!! Fuck right there!”

She then looks up at me annoyed, “Uhm? Gojo, it’s Anika, not Y/N.” She then starts to crawl up to me and put her hands on my shoulders, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you forget her name.” She then kissed me, and lined her cunt in my aching cock. She was riding me like there was no tomorrow. My mind went hazy and it just felt so good. Her hands were roaming on my back, creating more tension. I haven’t had this in a while. Her long hair smelled the same shampoo you are using. Strawberries. Mmmh, my favourite.

Fuck!!! I was about to cum, when I heard my phone ring. SHITTTT! Y/N!!!!

I immediately got her off me and started to get dressed, “WHAT THE FUCK GOJO? I WAS ABOUT CUM! YOUR PRICK!”

I couldn’t fucking care less! I didn’t even wait for her to finish dressing. I sobered up quickly and called Shoko. Please pick up! I NEED FUCKING HELP RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO GO HOME NOW!

 Fuck, I was about to lose my dream girl. 

I heard a loud knock on my door. I immediately got dressed hoping it was her. Please be her. Please be Y/N. PLEASE.

“SATORU! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Suguru punched his best friend so hard that he fell on the floor. Shoko wanted to help Gojo but he deserves it. 

Suguru learned what he did to you from Shoko. That night that tragedy happened, Gojo called Shoko asking for help. Shoko just replied, “Go tell her Satoru, or else I’m going to do it. You fucker.” And hang up.

“Is it true? HUH? YOU FUCKING LIAR AND CHEATER?” Suguru was grabbing you by your shirt. You couldn’t even speak because it was true. You just nodded at him. Shoko gave you a towel as your lips were bleeding.

Suguru was fuming. He was pissed because Y/N didn’t deserve all this bullshit and you were a great friend to him and Shoko. Seeing how his best friend went from loving you so much that he changed for the better to be this person who hurt and destroyed your relationship for a one night stand? HE WAS BETTER THAN THAT! Shoko and Suguru couldn’t believe that he would even think of ruining his future with you.

“Was this really your first time? Or have you been cheating even before this? I swear to fucking god Sat—”

“NO! OF COURSE NOT! THIS WAS…. that was.. The first and last time…” You started crying again.

Shoko could not bring herself to comfort you so she was just looking between you and Suguru while puffing a smoke. 

Seeing Shoko like this was not new to you as you have been playing around the field before you met Y/N. She changed you for the better. No actually, you told yourself to change or else there won’t be another one like you, ever. But seeing Suguru being disappointed like this was different. You felt being ganged up and everyone was taking shots at you but you know you deserve this. 

Suguru’s jaw was clenching. He wanted to punch and wake you up more. He wished that he was there when you were about to sleep with that fucking whore. He would have stopped you from making the BIGGEST mistake of your life.

“Don’t come near her, cheater.” Suguru was clear and was about to stand up, when you punched him in the face.

“SATORU! WHAT THE FUCK!” Shoko yelled. Shoko yelling? She was always level-headed but you’re being a prick now.

“You don’t have the right to say that to me, Suguru!! Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? JUST WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” You yelled.

Suguru smirked and scoffed, wiping the blood in his lips,  “You are such an asshole, you know that?” He was about to walk away when you said, “Oh yeah, I’m an asshole. But, you just won’t accept that she fucking picked me. IT WAS ME!! For those 4 years, it was me, Suguru! You were just waiting for me to fuck up, don’t you?” You were pointing at your chest angrily while spouting those words to him.

Suguru laughed menacingly, “Yeah, Satoru, yes, because I let you.” Suguru was now on your face, “I let you have everything, didn’t I? All my toys when we were young, all the things you wanted from me, I let you take. Why? Because you are my best friend. But when I let you take her? Oh man, that was the worst mistake of my life.”

Suguru whispered to you, “That would not be the case anymore because YOU ARE THE ONE WHO fucked it up. She will be mine and I promise I’ll let you watch her slip away from you like you had never existed in her life, asshole.”

Gojo felt his real fears come to life as his spine shivered when Suguru walked out. First, losing you. Second, seeing you with someone else.

For the 100th time that day, Gojo’s heart was broken and he couldn’t do any damn thing.

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

AHHHH! I felt so good finishing this chapter. Chapter 3 in the works!

Writing soon again,

Lady Ro

[ripleyresonance]

Sweet Enough to Eat

Sugar Mommy Rhea! x OC

Part 2

Happy Holiday's Mosherz. I hope you all made it on the naughty list this year. This is part 1 of a sugar mommy Rhea fic idea I had. Let me know if you want more...it might be ready already...

Cali had always enjoyed the finer things in life.

Her favorite perfume was Vanilla Diorama by Dior. Her favorite weekend getaway was Nicè, France. And she had even had her favorite sakè flown in from Japan on a bi-weekly schedule.

The best part was that she didn’t spend a dime on this lifestyle. It was all thanks to her sugar mommy.

Cali smiled sitting at her vanity and looking at a picture of her “mami” on her vanity. Cali was unsure which state or country she was in right now. Being an international WWE superstar meant she was gone most of the time. And with past sugar mommy’s, Cali had never cared as long as they bought her what she wanted she was happy. But something about this one left this empty feeling inside of her when Rhea left.

It all started a few months ago. Cali was down on her luck in a major way. Her last sugar mommy had ghosted her and she was running low on perfume. It had even been three weeks since she had her nails done. It was a dire situation.

To take her mind off it she went to her favorite bar from college. She knew they had cheap drinks so she put on a baseball cap and sunglasses and just tried to keep your head down and drink the sadness away. By the time she left, she was understandably pretty fucked up. Maybe she was a little too fucked up as she was bent over throwing up on the brick wall next to the building in the ally. She went to sit on the cool pavement as she felt a strong arm hold her up.

“Woah woah easy there beautiful. Don’t want you to sit in this puke puddle.” An Australian accent said to Cali.

Cali giggled as she stood up facing the woman.

“Y-you sound like bluey.” Cali burped.

The woman laughed.

“You would be surprised how often I get that.” She smiled.

“Can I get you an Uber love, you look like it’s been a rough night?” She said frowning a bit.

“Oh, you wouldn’t even believe the half of it! I mean first, she ghosted me and didn’t even leave me enough money to get my nails done last week now look at them.” Cali cried showing the woman her nails.

“Who could ever let such a pretty thing let their nails go undone?!” She said playing along with Cali.

Cali smiled at the woman as her drunk brain thought someone finally understood her problems.

“What’s your address honey?” the woman asked propping her against the wall to grab her phone.

Cali frowned at the woman.

“I don’t wanna go home. It’s not like anyone will be waiting for me.” Cali said making the women pause for a moment. “Did you want to go back to my place?” She offered.

Cali gasped dramatically.

“Are you trying to kidnap me!?” Cali said loudly.

The women panicked.

“NO NO oh god you just looked sad and sounded like you-“ the woman stuttered.

Cali laughed loudly playfully pushing her shoulder. “I’m fucking with you. A sexy buff lady just asked me to come back to her house. I’ll happily be kidnapped.” Cali said putting her hands out in front of her acting ready for cuffs.

The woman chuckled rubbing the back of her neck.

“You going to be a real handful huh?”

“I could be two handfuls if you wanted..” Cali said grabbing her chest and making the woman laugh.

“C'mon then my car is around the corner she said grabbing Cali’s hand to guide her. It was warm and grounding, enough for her to realize.

“Wait wait wait,” Cali said making the woman stop to face her.

“I’m about to go home with you but I don't even know your name. I mean not like I haven't hooked up with someone before not knowing their name” Cali said.

The woman thought for a moment before touching Cali's chin lightly.

“ We are not doing anything tonight in the state you are in besides getting you a new outfit. You can call me Rhea…what can I call you?” Rhea said her voice low.

“Shit with that voice you can call me whatever you like.” Cali felt her face heat up. “But my friends call me Cali”.

“Well…Cali, shall we go home?”

The next thing Cali knew she was opening her eyes to a bull terrier licking her face.

She shot up in a bed that was not hers as a woman ran in the door.

“Oh shit I am so sorry I wanted to let you sleep in. Barry DOWN off the bed.” the woman snapped as the dog ran off.

Cali looked at the woman momentarily as last night flooded back to her. She remembered her picking her off of the sidewalk, going back to her place…throwing up on her-

“Oh, my god.” Cali said “I just remembered…I am so sorry!” She went to move from the bed until she realized she had no clothes on.

Cali looked mortified as Rhea quickly reassured her.

“We didn't do anything! After you threw up on me I went to go shower and I came back to you naked and laying on my bed so I threw the blanket on you and went to sleep on the couch” Rhea said frantically.

“I- oh my god.” is all Cali could say putting her head in her hands.

“Hey hey we all have had those days, trust me,” Rhea said leaning down next to her and placing a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.

“You have woken up naked in a stranger's bed after she picked you up out of your own puke?” Cali said peeking out of her hands.

“Well…no,” Rhea admitted causing Cali to groan and fall over.

Rhea laughed going to her closet to grab Cali some clothes.

“Here you can take a shower real quick and throw on these clothes, I will make us some coffee.” Rhea smiled before leaving Cali alone.

As Cali showered all she could do was die of embarrassment remembering the night before. Did she call A total stranger a “sexy buff lady?”. On top of that strip naked and lay on her bed. Cali had to get out of there quickly but after walking out to the kitchen she was hit with the smell of toast.

“There you are sunshine, I got coffee and some toast, the hangover breakfast of champions.”

Rhea sat the food on her kitchen island before Cali as she just stared at the woman.

“Why are you being so nice to me…” Cali said quietly. Rhea looked at the woman with soft eyes.

“Last night you told me you didn't want to go home…you said no one was waiting there..and I don't think anyone should feel that way…especially not someone as beautiful as you are.”

Rhea mumbled the last part as Cali blushed taking a seat and drinking a sip of coffee.

“So did you just break up with your partner then?” Rhea questioned as she leaned against the counter sipping a cup of her coffee.

“Oh no, I haven't dated in…a long time.” Cali laughed

Rhea cocked her eyebrow.

“Sorry you mentioned someone was paying for your nails and perfume so I assumed,” Rhea said

Cali groaned internally thinking how she was about to explain to this kind stranger that she just gets sugar mommies to buy her things. She should have just lied but the ibuprofen was taking longer than she wanted to kick in.

“I uh…people like to buy me those things sometimes,” Cali said avoiding eye contact.

Rhea had a devious smile across her face.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Rhea questioned.

Cali signed looking at Rhea.

“Okay okay let me explain I started back in college and it was super easy and I started getting used to all the gifts and attention and-” Cali rambled.

“Hey hey, no judgment from me..It's not like you are scamming people. They just like giving you what you want, and I see why.” Rhea smirked.

Cali looked confused as Rhea set her cup down standing in front of Cali grabbing her hand. “You were right last night. I cannot believe someone would let you have your nails grown out this much. I would let you change them multiple times a week if that was what you wanted.

Cali stared at her shaking her head and laughing.

“Okay okay poke fun of me all you want thank you for the breakfast,” Cali said getting up as Rhea as Rhea pulled her hand again.

“I’m being serious…Cali.” Rhea said.

“My job has me flying everywhere, I am rarely here at home and it would be nice to have someone to come home to when I am back Maybe even fly out sometimes.” Rhea smiled.

Cali blinked a couple of times trying to process what Rhea was saying.

“… I’m sorry but do you remember me puking on you less than twenty-four hours ago? Why in the fuck would you want to be my sugar mommy.” Cali said highly confused.

“Because Cali I find you…interesting, and I want to find out why,” Rhea said lightly kissing the inside of Cali’s wrist making her blush.

As the offer hung in the air Cali’s mind raced at the unexpected turn of events. Rhea offered to go get her nails fixed she couldn't help but feel a sort of tension in the air…Cali did not know if it was all in her head or what but she could have sworn that kiss to her wrist was more romantic than transactional.

[unreliablesnake]

You're mine (Tangerine x reader)

Summary: It always begins with a drink, continues with something stupid, and ends in the bedroom. But when you having a boyfriend endangers your situationship, Tangerine decides to show you who you belong to.

Note: I was listening to Bad Memories months ago and had this idea. Today I finished this story. I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: if you squint, there's a smutish part. f!reader. i didn't do any proofreading. oops.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Lemon warned.

Tangerine didn’t care much about these words while he buttoned up his vest. It was past nine when he had called to see if you were up to going out and having some fun with him, and ever since then, Lemon had done nothing but voice his concern regarding this little plan of his.

And just as he put on his favorite striped blue jacket, Lemon went on. “You go out with her, you drink a lot, you do some stupid shit, and then you spend the next weeks dwelling on her going back to whatever guy she’s fucking at the moment,” he explained.

“I’m not dwelling on anything, for fuck's sake,” Tangerine stated with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t care about who she’s with, I’m not looking for a relationship.”

Lemon snorted at this. “Then why do you always look like a kicked puppy whenever you see pictures of her and her boyfriend on social media?” he asked with a questioning look.

He opened his mouth to respond to this, but eventually Tangerine decided to remain silent. It wasn’t worth the fight, he was in too good of a mood for that. So he picked up his phone from the coffee table, waved goodbye, and left the apartment they shared.

As he was heading to the bar where you were supposed to meet, Lemon’s words came to his mind to haunt him. He would have never admitted it, but his brother was right. He hated to see you with someone else despite your relationship always being casual.

The cool spring air helped him calm down, the barely detectable panic about what would happen after tonight disappearing without a trace. You were good for him, especially after spending a lot of time doing job after job. You were his stress relief, a little vixen who could make him feel oh-so-good with just one intoxicating kiss.

And tonight he wanted to take his time enjoying you in every possible way, from drinking to sex, he had several ideas about how to fill the night. You were usually down for anything, that was one of the things he fucking loved about you. He had once stolen a motorcycle someone left unattended when you were out together, while another time you broke into a public bath to skinny dip in the middle of the night.

Inside the bar he sat down at a table, his phone in hand as he waited for you to arrive. He was early, he knew that, but he simply couldn't wait to see you again. Fuck, maybe Lemon was right, maybe he was taking it a little more seriously than he should have.

After all, he was painfully aware of the lack of posts on your social media accounts. In the past two weeks or so you hadn't posted a damn thing, so he had no idea what was going on in your life.

And then, after about fifteen minutes of agonizing waiting, his eyes finally fell on you. You were breathtaking in the tight red dress you were wearing, sliding through the crowd with ease and grace, and his mouth was already watering at the thought of having you at his mercy at one point tonight.

“Well, hello, stranger,” you greeted him happily, moving closer to give him a hug once he stood up.

Tangerine let his arms wrap around you a little tighter than usual, palms flat against your back as he pulled you into his chest. He inhaled the scent of your perfume, then let his lips brush your cheek as he pulled away.

You didn't make a big deal out of this move of his, in fact, you acted like nothing even happened. When you let go of him and stepped back to put your purse on the table, he felt terrible from the sudden lack of contact. Normally you would be all over him by now, what the hell was different this time?

“Is everything okay?” he asked cautiously.

You flashed a bright and beautiful smile at him. “Everything's great. I'll get a drink then we can talk.”

He raised his hand to stop you from leaving. “No, please, let me handle that. The usual?” You nodded without thinking. “I'll be right back.”

There was no ring on your finger, he checked that. So if you weren't engaged, then why were you keeping your distance? Were you in a serious relationship? Shaking his head with a groan, Tangerine walked over to the bar and tried to get these thoughts out of his mind. He wasn't in love with you, why would it matter if you were seeing someone?

It had been four months since you had last met, maybe you just needed a drink or two to loosen up a bit. Yes, this must have been it.

When he returned with your drink, he saw you type something on your phone with a loving smile on your lips. He had seen that smile in photos before every time you were in a serious relationship. The little green-eyed monster awakened inside him, making him angry that you had someone in your life now.

He came to a sudden halt a few feet from the table as realization hit him like a train. He did care about whether or not you were in a relationship with someone else. Fuck, that was never the plan. This was supposed to be a casual thing, just two adults having fun every now and then without emotions being involved.

Maybe he should focus on having a perfectly innocent conversation with you, and once his glass becomes empty, he should leave and go to another bar to pick up someone who was available. Just a one-night stand to release some stress, nothing more.

“Tan, you okay?” you asked when you put down the phone with a frown.

He put on a fake smile and nodded. “Yeah, I'm good, just thought I saw someone I know over there,” he lied. Once he handed you your cocktail, he took his place and folded his hands on the table. “What's going on with you lately? You barely post anything on social media, I'm not used to that.”

You let out a laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “My boyfriend likes to keep his private life private. Thought I should try what that's like. So far so good,” you reported to his surprise.

You had always been the type of woman who wasn't afraid to show off online, making your friends and acquaintances jealous for you having such an exciting life. You didn't have a nine-to-five job, you were living off of the money you inherited from your late and rich uncle who had no children or wife, but liked you very much.

“So it's pretty serious, huh? I'm surprised. Even in serious relationships you never had a problem with living your life like you wanted. And never cared about having fun with whoever you liked,” Tangerine added, immediately regretting being this straightforward without discussing what would happen later tonight.

“Yeah, well, people change. I was a bitch for cheating on my exes. I would never do this to Oliver,” you told him with a sigh.

He flinched when he heard the last part. “He has a name. Good to know.”

Suddenly you leaned forward and narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you jealous?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head, hoping this would be enough for now. But you didn't buy it. “I know this was a booty call, Tan, but I literally wrote it in the message that I'm meeting you as a friend this time. You didn't reply so I thought you were okay with this,” you told him with a hand on your forehead.

“You never sent me that message,” he said as he picked up his phone and opened the messaging app to show you the conversation.

And sure enough, you quickly realized he never received that one. You glanced at your own device and let out a groan when you noticed the goddamn app didn't send it. “I'm so sorry. I feel stupid.”

Tangerine reached out to put a hand on yours. “You're not stupid. But answer me this. Does he fuck you as good as I do?” he asked, deciding that being bold was the right move in this game if he wanted to get his fix from you. But you didn't answer, you didn't even look him in the eye. “Come on, love, answer me. Does he make you come as hard and as many times as I do?”

When you still refused to answer, he let go of your hand so he could pull his chair next to yours to wrap an arm around your shoulder while his other hand grabbed your chin. He leaned so close to you that his lips almost touched yours. You froze like a deer in the headlights, your eyes locked on his piercing blue ones.

“Just one more night. One more, and if you still don't want anything from me, I'll disappear for good,” he told you quietly, but with such confidence that he already knew he won.

But you hesitated. You still hesitated and he hated it. You hadn't been like this before, back in the day you would have said yes without thinking. So he did the only thing he could think of–he kissed you. His lips were moving slowly against yours, tongue swiping over your bottom lip to gain access to your mouth.

“Tan,” you tried weakly as you pushed him away a little.

This only made him more determined to get you. So he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer again, gripping you tightly enough to make it impossible to escape. You gave in eventually, your lips moving in perfect sync, just like in the good old days. This was all he wanted, you submitting to him once again.

Just when you buried your fingers in his neatly combed hair, you moved on to kiss his jaw before you moved closer to his ear. “I fucking hate you,” you whispered.

“Not for long, trust me,” he said with a satisfied smirk when he looked you in the eye.

Since you had a serious relationship now, you couldn't go to your place so the neighbors wouldn't accidentally talk about your little affair, while his home was also out of the question because Lemon was there. So he did the only thing he could think of and took you to a nearby hotel. He was looking for something fancy, something that would be good enough for you.

He ordered champagne, but only after the first glass he was all over you again and you didn't stop him. Tonight was all about proving to you he put you first, that drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with only his fingers and mouth was all he wanted.

Then came the begging. You were whining weakly under his touch, overstimulated and needy, eventually begging him to finally fuck you. And Tangerine was more than happy to give you what you asked for, ready to make you cock drunk and brainless. Once he was done with you, you wouldn't even remember that stupid boyfriend of yours.

In the morning he woke up to a phone buzzing nearby. It wasn't his, he knew that since it was on the nightstand, so it must have been yours. He glanced over at you, but you were still sleeping, so he got out of bed to check your bag. When he saw the name Oliver on the screen, he couldn't hold back a laugh.

A laugh that successfully woke you up.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily as you rubbed your eyes.

Tangerine showed you the phone. “Your boyfriend wants to talk to you. Do you wanna talk to him?” When you opened your mouth to respond, he was quick to interrupt you. “Or we can forget he called and pick up where we left off last night,” he offered with a mischievous smile.

Three hours later he stumbled through the front door of his apartment, meeting Lemon in the living room. He had been watching TV, but now his eyes were focused on him, the disapproving look making Tangerine almost nervous. He raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear the lecture he knew his brother was already preparing in his head.

“Good news or bad news?” was all he asked in the end.

Tangerine flashed a smug smirk at him. “She's still mine.”

[inklessletter]

I’m having so much with the fic I’m currently working on, because I’m exploring a headcanon of Steve that’s been living in my mind rent free since forever. And that is, that Steve is so painfully practical that he, to put it simply, does things to get somewhere.

And that’s it. That’s his motivation.

I mean, he hasn’t finished high school yet and it’s already thinking of skipping college because working for his dad (that it’s canon he thinks is an asshole) is the fastest way to get a family. He doesn’t date to meet people, or to have fun; he dates to get married. Come on.

And then you have Eddie. He’s the one to buy a ticket to a concert out of the state and ends up remembering the flight, the people he met, the hours of queue and how fucking good was that burger he ate in the middle of nowhere (and he knows he’s not going to taste ever again), rather than the setlist of the actual concert. 

Eddie is not interested in the finish line of things, he’s interested in the journey.

So you take this Steve, and this Eddie and make them friends. And you have this Steve bitching about not finding the one, and this Eddie rolling his eyes to the back of his skull because why the hell are you looking for the one, Steve, you’re only twenty four. And Steve is like exactly, I am already twenty four, how are you not worried about not ending up alone. And this bickering results in Steve accusing Eddie of being terrified of commitment, and Eddie replying that Steve’s unable to actually find the one because his mind is fifteen years ahead of the present.

So both refuse to share the negativity on each other’s criticism, so Eddie dares Steve to date someone just because he likes them, someone who deliberately doesn’t fill in his long list of mandatory requirements for the one. And Steve agrees, on the condition that Eddie has to actually get in a relationship that lasts more than a month, but not just fucking the same person, no: he’s daring him to emotionally commit to someone.

And after they shake their hands, willing to prove the other one wrong, Robin, who has been hearing this shit for far too long, tells them that the only way they could actually know if the other commits to their agreement (since the nuances of their dares are quite personal and intimate) is that they actually date each other.

So, it’s 3 AM and they’re both still looking at their ceiling when they realize that god fucking damnit, Robin is right.

So you see, this story is writing itself.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Autopsy

Author’s Note: This is the next part in Cedric’s adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU, and specifically the Introducing New Primaris Black Templars arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  A big thank you to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her OC Anrir, and with helping me make sure I wrote Anrir well. 

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: autopsy (mention), poor coping skills, physical violence, grief, 

Summary: Cedric and two other Apothecaries in training are putting medical supplies away near where Malachai’s and Lestras’ bodies are being studied. This is fine. He’s fine.

"What... Why would they place that organ there? It makes no sense whatsoever." One of the visiting apothecaries muttered.

"I was told that the mechanicus were in charge of the creation of the Primaris Marines. In the ensuing ten-thousand years after the Heresy, this is what they have come up with." Melinth stated, his voice steady if lilting a little with amusement.

Cedric couldn't quite tell, as their voices were muffled by the wall that separated himself and the two other apothecaries in training from where Lestra’s and Malachai’s bodies were being autopsied. But their voices felt full of mockery and derision to him. He gritted his teeth, continuing to perform the task he had been assigned.

"These organs placements are shit." A third Apothecary spotted "I may still be a traitor in M42, but this... This is utter shit. I can see a glimmer of advancement in the organs themselves... But oh..." He laughed, cruel and vicious.

"Care to share the joke with the rest of us, Anrir?" The first Apothecary prompted, sounding curious.

Cedric willed his hearts to stop pounding in his ears as he tried to breathe out the fury coiling in his chest, ready to strike. He was furious at the fact that one of those callous bastards were laughing at his brothers' bodies.

"It's just... If I informed the Emperor of the advancements that the Mechanicum believes they made to his Astartes' design... His reaction would be hilarious!" Anrir chortled.

Cedric could not take the callous disrespect and mockery that these firstborn bastards were making of his dead brothers. The sound of that fucker’s laughter rang in his head, reminding him of - 

No. He would not allow his mind to wallow in miserable memories that would only make him even more upset. Cedric and two other apprentice Apothecaries had been tasked with restocking this medical supply room as a group. In the past few months, more supplies have been mysteriously vanishing, and one way to try and decrease the possible vanishing supplies problems. He hisses a soft “Bastard!” In response to the continued laughter.

The restless Night Lord Apothecary turned toward him, having clearly heard his words “What was that? I’m pretty sure that box of gauze isn’t an Ork in need of strangling. You can just put it down like a normal person.”

Cedric glared at the Night Lord, a low growl in his voice “Shut up. I can hear them talking about the Brothers they are dissecting.”

The other apothecary in training - a Renegade Space Wolf spoke up “I can hear them too. It sucks that they won’t let any of us even see the bodies to learn the differences between us normal marines and Primaris, but that’s life. ‘Sides, I’ve figured out one difference between Primaris marines and normal marines already.”

“Oh? And what difference would that be?” The Night Lord asked curiously, head titling a little.

“They die like little bitches. LIke, there are what a dozen Primaris marines on ancient terra? And between the two found near this base and the six found dead across Ancient Terra in the past year or so, it doesn’t speak to how well they’re able to survive. Like. It’s really fucking hard to die on Ancient Terra unless you’re doing something stupid.”

… Six other dead Primaris marines? This was the first that Cedric had heard of more dead Primaris marines. Then the rest of the drivel that the Space Wolf had said registered in the Black Templar’s mind. The fury that he’d been struggling to contain boiled over and a red haze filled his vision. 

Cedric blinked once, finding that he’d moved positions from one moment to the next. He had pinned Algret to the floor, his knees on the bastard’s chest, his hands wrapped around the other’s neck as his mouth screamed into the other;s bloodied face and broken nose. Cedric felt his chest heave with the effort of pinning and choking this miserable bastard as his mouth screamed ‘- FUCKING CALLOUS, KIN-KILLING BASTARDS! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU! YOU SNEER AND LOOK DOWN ON US! USE US AS CANNON FODDER WHILE SPITTING ON OUR EFFORTS AND CALLING US ABOMINATIONS!” He managed to wrest control of his vocal chords from whatever was screaming through him. His voice was much quieter now but no less furious “See how you like it when you are the one being beaten and tormented over and over again.”

“He-ghk!” Algret called out, struggling futilely beneath him.

Cedric did not see the Night Lord Apothecary, but they were all cowardly ambush predators who fled before a more powerful opponent. His breathing was harsh and fast. HIs hands were still squeezing Algret’s neck hard enough to make breathing difficult for the mouthy bastard. “... You’re not worth the paperwork they’d bury me under to kill you.” With tremendous effort he forced his hands away from the Space Wolf’s neck. He got off of the Space Wolf as well, taking a couple of steps back.

Algret growled back as he heaved himself back up onto his feet, settling into a defensive stance “You want to fight, you unstable piece of shite? You’re on! You’re not going to overcome me nearly so easily, now that I’m aware you’re going to attack me.”

Cedric growled wordlessly, shifting into a defensive stance of his own, about to accept the challenge issued to him.

"And just what do you two think you are doing?" A low and deeply unimpressed voice demanded from the doorway, interrupting the brewing fight.

Cedric swallowed hard, before he turned and saw -

Fuck.

One of the Apothecaries who had been brought in to cut into his dead Brothers, to study the differences between Primaris Marines and Firstborn. He was a Terran-born Night Lord, from the pattern and coloration of his armor.

"I was talking about the dead Primaris Marines, and that it sucked I couldn't get hands-on study of either one of them when this lunatic  attacked me!" Algret whined, glaring at Cedric as he spoke. "He also was screaming about how much he hates firstborn Marines. Whatever the fuck those are."

“... I see.” The Night Lord Apothecary answered, a neutral expression on his face, though it may be a mask. “If firstborn Marines are bad… Surely I am something much worse. After all, I am Terran Born, among part of the first successfully created batches.” He stalked into the room with predatory grace.

Cedric could see the younger Night Lord Apothecary hovering in the hallway outside, but most of his focus was on the laughing bastard in front of him. His phone chirped, and he kept one eye on the advancing Night Lord, as he read through the text that Ramiel sent him. A small, vicious smirk appeared on his face. The other older apothecaries were also in the hallway and could clearly hear him. He rolled his shoulders back and stated “As the highest ranking Black Templar Apothecary within a hundred miles of this base, I am formally revoking your to do anything with the dead bodies of the two Black Templars currently on the surgery tables of this base. I revoke everyone’s privilege to do so, not just yours, Apothecary Anrir.” Cedric paused for a moment, letting this edict sink in before continuing “If any non-Black Templar Apothecary does anything other than stitch their bodies up, it will be a severe violation of the treaty for each of you, with each cut of the scalpel, or adjustment of the retractors. This decision is effective as of now, and will not be overturned. Stitch up their bodies and hand them over to me.”

“YOu gave permission to allow us to autopsy them earlier.” Melinth countered “Additionally, you are merely an Apothecary in training and do not have the ability to order such things to us.”

“I am the highest ranking Black Templar apothecary you can contact easily. If you want to escalate this issue, I will inform the highest ranking Black Templar in residence and you can talk it out with him. The Emperor’s Champion. I will inform him that you are refusing to follow some of the mandates of treaty that has been set forth. I will also inform him that your refusal to release the bodies of both Black Templars, one of whom had been a patient of yours in critical condition, and that he died while in your care.” Cedric growled, stalking towards Melinth. He was keenly aware of what he was unsubtly accusing the other of in public, but he did not care. It was completely within character of Firstborn Marines of M42 to pull shit like this on purpose. Why would they not do the same in M3 if they thought they could get away with it?  “Care that you did not allow me or another Black Templar to monitor while a brother was in such a fragile and vulnerable state. That after you pronounced him dead, while his body was still warm, you demanded I give you permission to cut him apart to satisfy your own curiosity.”

“Are you accusing me of allowing a patient under my care to die to satisfy my own scientific inquisitiveness about how his body worked?” Melinth demanded, actually sounding and looking mildly upset now.

Cedric figured that Melinth was upset most by the potential hit to his reputation Cedric’s accusations may cause, considering the fact that the six visiting Apothecaries were from differing factions and had some influence amongst their chapters/legions. “You’ve said before that you wished that you could take a Primaris Marine’s body apart, to see what the differences are for yourself. It would not surprise me if you… Arranged for that to happen, as you were handed an opportunity to ensure a Primaris Body landed in your morgue.”

“Oh… So the abuse that the both of them suffered is a common thing amongst loyalists in M-42, then. You wouldn’t be accusing another Apothecary of such a crime with such certainty and conviction if you haven’t seen that happen in M42 personally.” Anrir called out, an inscrutable expression on the Night Lord’s face.

His words halted Cedric in his tracks. The emotional impact of his words hit him with the force of an out of control Thunderhawk slamming into the side of a mountain. His gaze switched from Melinth - who was more visibly emotional now (What those emotions might be, Cedric couldn’t begin to guess. Nor was he going to spend the effort to try) - to Anrir. His eyes were burning fiercely and he hated the way he echoed “A… Abuse?” back at the older apothecary. A yawning abyss of horror had opened up within Cedric and had swallowed all of the righteous wrath that had been searing it’s way through his veins.

“Yes. Abuse. The Emperor would be furious about the utter misery that the Mechanicus put you Primaris marines through. You’re some of the most traumatized young marines I’ve ever met. And I’ve worked with Lamenters before. Get over here.” Anrir ordered, his voice going gravelly and commanding - but not in a distressing way, somehow?

Cedric’s idiot, treacherous body obeyed before his mind could halt himself, as he came over to the Night Lord’s side. He stares down at the shorter marine, just barely able to resist the temptation to shuffle backwards and cross his arms defensively over his chest. “What do you want?” Cedric snapped, eyes narrowing.

“I’m going to hug you now. Do not resist, you need one.” Anrir answered, closing the distance between the two of them and wrapping his arms around Cedric, holding him in a moderately restraining embrace. 

Half of Cedric wanted to melt into the embrace and start bawling. The rest of him protested very loudly at such a show of weakness in front of strange firstborn marines, so an angry response it was. He hisses down at the older marine, leaning away from him “How dare you just grab me like this?! Let me go at once you… You-” now was not the time to lose his words, but here he was. Unable to come up with something to say.

Also, Cedric could feel his body start to shake and tremble at the continued gentle touch. His eyes were stinging more fiercely now and he needed to escape if he was to not be seen or heard crying by these fuckwits. He blinked rapidly before the first treacherous tear started to fall, followed by more. SInce the stupid bastard wasn’t letting go, Cedric hid his face in one of the other’s shoulders, his body’s shaking getting worse.

Anrir heaved a dramatic sigh as he hugged Cedric closer, one hand coming up to gently pat his head “Honestly! You’re just as bad as Claude is. I wasn’t laughing at your dead brothers, by the way. I was laughing at the fury that the Emperor would unleash on those machine-worshippers if he learned of what he’s done to all of you. The organ placement within the two Primaris Marines would very likely have shortened their life-spans significantly, had the physical abuse that killed them not taken them then.”

There was one piece of information that was most important to Cedric. The lifespans thing wasn’t something he could deal with, but - “You… You know Claude? You’ve… You’ve seen him cry?” If Claude felt safe enough to cry around Apothecary Anrir… Then Cedric would choose to trust that his brother-cousin was willing to trust Anrir.

The Night Lord sighed again, patting his head once more, still giving him a one-armed hug “Yes, I know Claude.”

“Oh… You must be one of the older brothers he trusts, then.” Claude was one of the most emotionally reserved of all of them for reasons that Cedric was not going to think about right now, as he was trying to calm down. He wiped the tears in his eyes and tried that breathing trick that Miss Angela taught him… Which was startlingly effective. He lets go of the Night Lord, shame burning through him as he took a step away from the other. “I… Thank you, for helping me calm down.”

Anrir hummed a little in response “You scouts have been deeply traumatized. Emotional dysregulation is very common.” He turned and  glared at his fellow experienced Apothecaries “Is there a particular reason why you are gawking? The Scout told you he doesn’t want us messing about in the insides of his dead brothers, which I feel is more than reasonable.”

The other apothecaries grumbled, but all of them left the hallway, except for Melinth, who stared at Cedric for several long seconds before slowly turning and leaving.

Anrir left a moment or two after Melinth did, and called out to the others “Between the seven of us, and what we were able to study, we have plenty of notes. Besides, you all saw the muscle cording. The mechanicus succeeded in making the Primaris marines physically stronger. The young one was gracious enough to allow us some time to study a couple of his dead brothers. He could have refused us entirely.”

Melinth groused back “You weren’t the one who got accused of letting a patient die on your table on purpose, Anrir.”

“I suspect that is the grief doing the speaking for him, rather than good sense. Besides, wouldn’t you be a little suspicious, were your position and his reversed? Especially as it is abundantly clear - at least to me - that none of the Primaris Marines have been treated very well by their older brothers in M-42. His wariness and caution is understandable if likely unneeded in this time. Such behaviors are difficult to unlearn.” Anrir countered. 

Cedric pointedly did not look at either of the two firstborn Apothecaries in training as he completed the task that he had been assigned. He did pause part way through putting away the medical supplies to send Ramiel a message, asking him to start gathering what he needed to properly send off Malachai and Lestra… He also planned on speaking with a certain Word Bearer to see if he was willing to let them borrow a hallowed space for the funerals.

… He should also probably talk to Arnualt and Roland as well to see if they wanted to attend the funerals as well. A sigh left Cedric as he placed the vinyl box of gauze on its assigned shelf before leaving the medical stockroom, locking the door behind him as both Belek and Algrets had already left the room. 

[mexicansalsayees]

got headcanons for College!Angela? I’m at work rn but ngl I feel BORED, and my mind always goes back to her

Okay so as always I got a bit carried away so:

I feel like she would definitely study something related to the arts, either film, theater... you name it.

She studies a lot, but only for the subjects that genuinely interest her (which end up being most of them anyway). Despite that she still manages to have a busy social life and party a lot.

She starts of a bit more reserved but by the second month she is already known for sleeping around, specially when she parties. (I can't picture it any other way since I read the fuckboy!Angela thoughts).

You both are roommates and get along well, but since you have different degrees you don't frequent the same circles.

You had a crush on Angela when you guys first met, but it faded away when she started bringing girls around.

Then you got a girlfriend and suddenly she stopped bringing them around, she barely even partied anymore and as a result she spended much of her time in the dorm (which slightly annoyed you because unlike Angela you found it difficult to fuck with an audience).

So one day you come back home after a big campus party and you find her hammered, trying and failing to go up the stairs. "Oh shit" you say grabbing her by the waist and helping her up. She clings on to you from the moment she recognizes you and doesn't let go until you guys reach the dorm.

She plummets on to her bed and you say "you're not planning to sleep like that are you?" only to be answered by groaning.

So you get her out of bed and into the bathroom and give her some of your pajamas, because you don't know where hers are.

Once she changes, though, you realize she's still got her make up on and knowing she won't do it herself you sit her in a chair and tilt her chin up while slowly passing a wipe through her face.

But there's something so innocent in her drunken state, something so pure in her closed eyed smile. It almost seems she has no worries and you can't help to take a bit more time caressing her face even though there's no make up left.

You finally snap out of it "all done" you say, your tone chipper but deep down you are feeling some nostalgia you can't quite place.

You tuck her in, lights already closed and you find yourself brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

You start walking towards your bed, but something stops you "I love you, you know" she says, barely audibly.

You brush it off as the alcohol talking but before you can respond she adds "and I don't mean it in a platonic way, I mean that I've fallen so hard for you, I barely know how to function anymore".

Well I'm leaving it here, let me know what you think hehehe.

[megamindsupremacy]

Relativity Falls AU

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3 [Part 4]

Two months after Pacifica runs away from Dipper and the portal project, Mabel appears at Dipper’s house. She’s gotten really concerned, because her idiot brother has stopped responding to any letters, stopped picking up phone calls, stopped publishing articles, and has more or less completely dropped off the goddamn map.

So she arrives in Gravity Falls, locates her brother after a waitress mentions the “weird smelly researcher living in a hut in the woods,” and nearly takes out his front door with her knocking before he finally answers the door.

He is holding a gun.

Mabel is unimpressed.

She tells him to cut the shit and answer her already, what the hell is going on, why has he not been answering her letters, why is he living in a shack in the woods in Oregon, has he showered in the past two weeks?

Unfortunately for Mabel, Dipper is not in the right state to answer her questions reasonably, because he has well and truly lost his goddamn mind after Pacifica left him. Hosting Bill has been horrible for his mental state - Bill hasn’t been even a little bit gentle with his brain, even less so than he was with Ford in Canon Falls, and Dipper is Feeling It.

After Pacifica left, Dipper has been running on dwindling money, materials, and equipment. He’s at his limit. Bill is pushing him past it.

In response to Mabel’s reasonable questions, i.e “wtf is going on with you”, Dipper goes I’M UNCOVERING THE SECRETS TO THE UNIVERSE while waving his gun around and making a lot of concerning facial expressions. It’s concerning. Mabel is concerned. She does manage to take his gun away, though.

Mabel and Dipper have an argument, the main points of which can be boiled down to:

Mabel, freaked out: Dipper, I think you might be actually genuinely insane right now. Please go take a bath, you smell horrible. Dipper, eyes bloodshot, waving his hands around: I NEED TO BUILD A PORTAL TO ANOTHER DIMENSION FOR THE GLORY OF THE TRIANGLE AND TO PROPEL MYSELF INTO FAME AND FORTUNE [Dipper drags Mabel downstairs into his basement and triumphantly shows her the newly-finished portal] Mabel, was not expecting an actual literal fucking portal: What the hell is GOING ON with you Dipper, suddenly furious: You wouldn’t understand, you always were the more popular twin, you’re the successful famous rich amazing popular etc etc tw

(Mabel internal dialogue: exCUSE ME?)

Mabel's like, pretty sure that her brother is actually going insane, but he's still saying some really hurtful things, enough so that she starts to get pissed at him.

Mabel notices that Dipper has been holding onto a journal (...the journal she made for him?) this entire time, so she yanks it out of his hands and tells him that he's coming upstairs right now, he's eating a goddamn meal and drinking a glass of Mabel Juice and getting ten hours of sleep and then after that, maybe, they can have a reasonable and adult discussion about whatever the hell is going on with him.

Dipper says something Very Sane and Comprehensible, at a Reasonable Tone and Pitch, at the thought of sleeping for so long (THE DEMON). Then he lunges for the journal.

They... fight. There's a huge commotion. Dipper is screaming.

(For the first time, Mabel is scared, not for, but of her brother.)

Levers get pulled. Mabel's arm gets scorched when Dipper pushes her into a hot rune. She shrieks. His eyes momentarily clear, and he says "Oh god, Mabel, what have I-"

She kicks him off of her.

Dipper goes through the portal. The portal screeches to a close.

Mabel sits in the basement, burned, clutching her brother’s journal, and begins to panic.

[trulyunholy]

no in-between | part two

matt murdock x reader, college au

notes: 18+, minors please DNI. reader is written as afab, but it's not specifically stated. no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k

part one here

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“What’s going on with you?” Annie asks when she finds you cursing in the hotel lobby.

“No room, apparently,” you tell her through a frustrated sigh. “Online reservation got fucked up and they don’t have any more vacant rooms.”

“Shit, indeed,” Annie says. “What are you gonna do?”

You sigh deeply again and shrug. “Figure something out, I guess.”

“Do you wanna crash with me?” she offers. “I’m staying with Quin too, but-”

“No, no, that’s alright,” you decline quickly. This trip is already stressing you out, and as much as you love Annie and how close the two of you have become over the past few months, staying even a night with her and her girlfriend sounded like hell. “I’ll figure this out. But thanks.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” she says. And then she’s off again, flouncing up the stairs toward her room to do whatever it is she does to get ready for the rest of her day.

You sink down into one of the lobby chairs and bury your face in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of self-pity. But it’s quickly interrupted when someone politely clears their throat next to you.

“Oh, shit, uh, I mean- Dr. Murdock. Hi,” you stutter, a mixture of embarrassment and surprise in your voice.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he says politely. “You’re out a room?”

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Then, a little too quickly, you add, “But, I mean, it’s not a big deal. I can just, like, sleep in the lobby or something. Maybe they’ll make an exception for me since they screwed up.”

Your attempt at a joke falls flat. But the way he says your name then, followed by a humorless laugh, like you going without a bed was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard of, well, it tightens something in your chest.

“You aren’t sleeping in the lobby,” he tells you. “And it’s unlikely you’ll find any other hotels nearby with vacancies. Turns out this conference has most places pretty booked up.” Then, only seconds later, he holds a plastic card out toward you. “Just take mine.”

“I, uh-” You laugh uncomfortably, thinking maybe it’s a joke. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” he tells you, matter-of-factly.

You feel frozen in place. You don’t want to be rude and turn down the more-than-generous offer that Dr. Murdock has no obligation to make, but you can’t possibly accept it. Besides, wouldn’t it be inappropriate? You aren’t sure where the line fell on that, but it feels blurry at best.

“But where would you stay?” you ask solemnly. “If I take your room, I mean, where would you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he answers, flashing you a smile so hypnotic you couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to. “I’ll figure something out.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” you say, a joking tone contrasting against your racing heart.

“Come on,” he tells you, slipping the door key back in his coat pocket and starting toward the front doors of the hotel. “We can argue about this on the way to the conference.”

The first day of the two-day conference is…uneventful. Okay, it’s boring. But it’s not like you can skip, and you have to admit that several of the presentations did give you solid ideas for your own thesis project. But after several hours of speakers and polite conversations with acquaintances and scholarly strangers alike, you’re ready for the day to be over.  As luck would have it, you run into Dr. Murdock in the hotel lobby, both of you arriving at nearly the same time. Unfortunately, he’d won the argument earlier, and you’d agreed to take his room. But now, standing in front of the door to his hotel room, you’re hesitant again.

“I still don’t feel good about this,” you tell him as he holds the key card toward you expectantly. You take it. “But thank you.”

You wait for him to say something, to say goodbye, anything. But he doesn’t. When you don’t say anything either, he clears his throat.

“My, uh- my suitcase is still-”

“Oh, right!” You feel like an idiot. “Sorry.”

You unlock the door and step inside, taking in the room. It looks just like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in, with a decent sized bed and a television perched on top of a chest of drawers. There’s a desk pushed against the wall with an office chair in front of it, and a small couch opposite the bed.

It gives you an idea.

“Okay, this may be strange, but hear me out. What if I sleep on the couch?” you ask before you can think better of it.

He steps in behind you and shuts the door. He doesn’t immediately answer you, so you quickly continue.

“I can sleep on the couch and then you’ll still have a bed! I- I know it’s not ideal. Hell, I know it probably isn’t exactly appropriate. But it won’t be weird, I swear. Or, maybe it will be, but it doesn’t have to be.”

You hate the way you ramble when you’re nervous, and you hate that you’re always doing it in front of Dr. Murdock. His face remains unreadable, so you take a deep breath and start again.

Look, I don’t like the idea of sleeping in the lobby or a broom closet somewhere, but I don’t like the idea of you having to, either. Especially since you’re, y’know…”

“Blind?” he suggests with a smirk.

“Well, yes,” you admit sheepishly, heat rushing to your cheeks. “But there’s a perfectly good couch here, and there’s no reason either of us should go without if we don’t have to.”

Silence again. More than anything, you wish you could just read his mind, know what he’s thinking.

“It really is a win-win right?” you add in as a last-ditch effort to convince him. “I’ll stay on the couch, I’ll stay out of your way. And I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

What is wrong with you? This is such a bad idea, and he’s probably going to admonish you, tell you how inappropriate the mere suggestion of it is, that he’s going to have to report this. You’d probably deserve it, too.

“Alright,” he finally says hesitantly, to your surprise. “But you can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“What? No-” you begin to protest, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“You can have the bed,” he repeats, slower this time, “and I’ll take the couch.”

It’s not up for discussion, you realize. You nod your head, say okay, and move to put your bag on the bed. As you begin to unpack, you remember another awkward aspect of room-sharing.

“Is, uh, is it alright if I take a shower?”

You aren’t sure why you feel a little embarrassed asking. Taking a shower isn’t anything intimate, and there would be walls and a door with a lock between the two of you. No chance for accidental slip-ups. Still, the thought of him being in the next room while you were in such a vulnerable state, well, it’s enough to send something icy through your body that you know a hot shower won’t wash away.

“All yours,” he says, not turning toward you as he shuffles through his own suitcase.

“Thanks,” you say, hurrying to the bathroom. “Promise I’ll be quick.”

You think he says something else, but it’s lost behind the heavy click of the bathroom door.

You aren’t sure why your heart is racing again as you adjust the knob in the shower, trying to figure out which way to turn the damn thing to get the water to a decent temperature. Well, that’s not quite true. You know exactly why it’s racing. It’s racing because you’re sharing a room with Dr. Murdock. Because he’s only feet away from you as you kick off your uncomfortable heels and slip out of your dress. Because you know that tonight you’re going to see your professor -your kind, helpful, smart, stupidly attractive professor- in a very less than professional setting.

God, what are you doing?

Why did you agree to this? As you step into the shower and struggle to find comfort in the low water pressure, you can’t help but think about how much better sleeping in the lobby or a broom closet or literally anywhere else would be.

Well, maybe not better. But it would avoid a situation that could so easily ruin things. The way it could make these ridiculous and stupid and inappropriate feelings you’ve already formed so much worse. But what else were you supposed to do? It’s the logical choice. And he agreed to it.

But you suggested it.

You push down the thought as you make quick work of washing your hair and ignoring the temptation of easing the uncomfortable pressure building up inside of you. By the time you’re done and dressed in your pajamas, no more than twenty minutes have passed. You aren’t sure you’ve ever gotten ready for bed so quickly in your life.

“All done,” you say cheerfully as you step out of the bathroom, leftover steam rolling out of the door behind you. “Bathroom’s free if you…need it.

“Great,” he says, shooting you a comfortable smile that almost feels forced. Like a mask. One of politeness, of tense togetherness. You wonder if you’re wearing the same one. “I hope you didn’t rush.”

“No, no,” you say with a tense chuckle. “Just, uh, exhausted. Ready for bed.”

He nods, and without another word, he’s gone, the bathroom door closing softly behind him.

You sit on the bed for no more than a minute before you start devising a plan. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on this couch. For one, it’s insanely small, and you’re significantly shorter than he is, so it only makes sense. Also, you can’t, in good conscience, let your professor, your senior, sleep on that tiny couch while you, his student, take up the entire queen sized bed yourself. It just wouldn’t be fair. And since this whole situation was your idea in the first place, you feel you have to get the short stick. You can’t justify this whole thing to yourself otherwise.

So you quickly grab a couple pillows off of the bed and an extra blanket from the closet, and you make yourself as comfortable as possible on the couch, your legs curled closer to your stomach than is strictly comfortable, but you manage. If you can fall asleep here before he gets out of the bathroom, you figure he’ll just let you sleep and take the bed. He couldn’t argue with you that way. Another win in your book.

At first you’re worried that you’ll have a hard time falling asleep. You always have trouble sleeping away from home, away from your own bed with your own pillows and blankets and your little sound machine that you forgot to pack for the trip. But you’re exhausted. From the plane this morning, from the long day, from the hours and hours you spent before the trip preparing for this conference. And as you lay in the dark, listening to the rain against the building and the thunder growing more distant, and as you hear the fall of water as the shower is turned on again, you finally drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, you aren’t sure why. Maybe it’s the thunder that moved closer while you slept. Maybe it was your full bladder from all of the water you nervously kept drinking to keep your hands busy at the conference hall. Maybe it was just how uncomfortable this damn couch was. Whatever the reason, you’re awake now, and you take the opportunity to get up and stretch and take a quick trip to the bathroom.

You’re careful to be as quiet as you possibly can, even washing your hands under the smallest stream of water you can manage to get out of the sink. But by the time you crack open the bathroom door, you see him in the light that spills out, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his face.

“Shit,” you whisper, even though there’s no real need to whisper. You’re both up now. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet.”

“I’m a light sleeper,” is all he says. His voice, though, doesn’t sound like he was sleeping. It sounds clear, alert. Much different from your still-groggy voice. You wonder if he always wakes up so alert.

“I’m sorry,” you offer again, voice still quiet.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Which makes sense. What is there to say? But you move from the bathroom back toward the couch, and click on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The room wasn’t huge by any means. But there’s enough distance between the two of you that it doesn’t feel as awkward as you were afraid it would. 

What is awkward, though, is the silence. The air is tense while you stand by the coffee table and he sits resting against the headboard, looking completely lost in thought. You take the opportunity to look him over, taking in his slept-in appearance. The comforter is pulled up to his waist, but you admire the light t-shirt he’s wearing, so different from his usual professional attire. You take in his shoulders, his arms, and stare at him in the soft lamp light longer than necessary. You’re completely startled when he finally speaks up.

“Why did you take the couch?’ he asks, his voice soft but his tone serious. “I told you-”

“I couldn’t take the bed,” you start, defensively. “You’re my professor, and my superior, and you’re blind, for god's sake. What kind of person would I be if I let you sleep on this couch when you paid for the room? Especially because that thing is so damn uncomfortable.” You rub your back dramatically as if to prove a point, but a genuine stretch and groan follows.

He goes silent again. You don’t think you've ever seen him so quiet. You aren’t sure if it’s the night, or if it’s the situation, or maybe both. But you would give anything to be in his head right now. To know what he’s thinking, what he’s contemplating, what’s taking up so much of his mind.

“Sleep on the bed,” he says, and there’s no hint of a question in his voice. As if he’s worried that the demand was too harsh, he adds a soft, “Please.”

“You can’t sleep-”

“I won’t sleep on the couch,” he says, beating you to your own tired argument.

“What, are you going to sleep on the floor?” you bite back. You’re tired. It’s late, you couldn’t have been asleep long, it’s still dark outside, and you wish he would just give in and let you win this one.

“No, I-“ he cuts himself short, seeming unsure for just a moment before regaining his composure. “This bed is more than big enough for two people,” he says, voice level. “It’s big enough that two people could sleep on it without…being in each other's way.”

Oh. He’s suggesting…that. He’s actually suggesting that the two of you share a bed. 

He wants to share a bed. With you. 

No, that’s not right. 

With you? No, of course it’s not like that, you tell yourself. He’s just being diplomatic. It’s an easy solution to come to, just like you suggesting the couch. It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything. 

But if anyone finds out that you shared a bed with your professor., even if it was nothing like it sounded, well, it could be disastrous. For both of you.

But the bed looks warm, and inviting, and a thousand times better than the scratchy extra blanket and that uncomfortable couch. And he’s right, there’s more than enough room for you to each sleep on one side with plenty of space in the middle. There won’t be any risk of…anything. You stop yourself immediately from thinking about what that anything could be and take a deep breath.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. I understand that it isn’t exactly appropriate and if you’re uncomfortable, forget I even suggested it. But…” He lets the word linger in the air, and it’s so full of possibilities, of actions and consequences and everything in between, and your chest starts to feel tight again. “It’s a win-win. Right?”

“What if someone finds out?” 

The question is out of your mouth before you even realize what you’re saying, and you wish you could take it back. It makes it sound like you’re insinuating that something could happen, when that isn’t a possibility at all, of course it isn’t, because he’s professional and smart and kind, and you’re…well, you.

Luckily he doesn’t give you much time to spiral.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

You know it’s meant as a joke, as a tongue-in-cheek, let’s make light of an awkward situation, kind of thing. But…maybe it’s the hushed tone he’s still speaking, or the soft yellow light casting shadows in just the right way, or his soft t-shirt and his disheveled hair and his arms and my god those arms.

It’s almost like he notices your reaction; maybe he hears the way your breath catches, or maybe your heart is beating so loudly he could hear it out of your chest and across the room. It sure as hell feels like it’s pounding loud and fast enough for that to be possible. But he tenses up too, just a bit. Just enough to be noticeable under your admiringly sharp stare.

“We both need the rest,” he adds, voice much calmer than his appearance would suggest. It sounds practiced, measured. “You won’t get any rest on that couch, and I won’t be able to sleep knowing that you’re miserable on it. Besides, I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

It’s meant to reassure you. Or maybe to throw your words back at you to lighten the mood, to try to show that things aren’t as tense as they clearly were. But you swallow it down and force a pathetic smile onto your face and into your voice.

“There’s enough pillows here to make a barrier between us,” you say, trying out a joke to lighten things on your end, too. He chuckles and shakes his head and the tension does melt away a little. “I am exhausted. And you’re right, I won’t get any sleep on that poor excuse for a couch,” you say. “Just…as long as you’re sure it’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he says, and, almost immediately, throws the comforter back, settles himself back in bed, and turns to his side to face the wall. To face away from you.

Without another word, you flip the lamp off and carefully make your way to the bed. You go slowly to avoid tripping or hitting your foot like you’re prone to do, but also to delay the inevitable disappointment that being so close to him will undoubtedly bring. Once you get into the bed though, you swear it’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever laid in, and the sheets are so warm. And the rain hitting rhythmically against the window reminds you of your sound machine that you left at home, and your exhaustion washes over you and weighs down your eyelids once more.

“Thank you,” you mumble a few moments later before drifting off.

When you open your eyes, the room is flooded with gray morning light. The rain stopped overnight but you can tell from your view through the window that it could start up again at any moment. You’re so warm under the thick comforter and the thought of having to get up makes you groan out loud. You have to admit, you haven’t slept this well in a long time. As the sleep dissipates from your brain, you remember where you are and the situation that transpired the night before. You feel a coil of anticipation growing tight in your stomach, but when you turn around and shuffle to sit up, you see the bed is empty.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting. He told you he’d be gone by the time you woke up. So why does disappointment grow in your stomach and snake through your veins?  You pull the comforter up across your chest and grant yourself a few seconds to sit in that disappointment. Would it have been worse if he had been there when you woke up? Would what seemed so simple in the soft lamp light last night be more complex, more uncomfortable in the gray light of the overcast morning? You aren’t sure.

But you don’t have much time to think about it now anyway. You have to get up and get ready for the busy day ahead of you. With one more stretch and a deep breath that leaves you ignoring the fact that the sheets smell like him, you force yourself out of bed and toward the bathroom.

You wonder if you’ll find any evidence of his daily life in the hotel bathroom, toothpaste or body wash maybe. You can’t help but think about what his domestic life is like. What it could look like and where you could fit into it. Would you ever be able to fit into the life of a man like him?

No. Of course you couldn’t. And you should really stop thinking about things like that, you tell yourself.

The bathroom is totally clean, stocked with fresh towels and all. You tell yourself that the feeling tugging at your stomach again is nothing more than a need to eat breakfast.

[cactusisconfused]

Cw- suggestive themes, no smut. Soap has shit gaydar.

-

John ‘Soap’ Mactivish is a proud and out bisexual man and has been aware of that since he was mid-teens.

He’s always been proud of his identity, never was one to shrink down from giving some homophobe a black eye- no matter how many suspensions he got.

He’s had a good few partners, men and women, enough to the point that he thinks he has a good understanding of how this all works.

The only problem is that he had the worse gaydar known to man.

One would think that given how long he’s been in the community he would get better at it, but nope.

So imagine his surprise when the hulking 6’4 lieutenant of his- whom he had presumed to be straight- shows up to a gay bar when the 141 found themselves with down time.

-

Soap had snuck off, whether to get a one night stand in or just a few drinks to wash away the ugly thoughts of their last mission, he isn’t sure and quite frankly, doesn’t care.

He’s maybe 3 glasses of scotch in, maybe four, when a tall ass man built like a fridge sits next to him at the bar. A black face mask sits on the bridge of the man’s Roman nose all the way to his chin. From what soap can see, the man has scars all over his face, some bigger, some smaller- but really what gets him is those brown eyes, framed just perfectly by blonde- almost white eyelashes.

Naturally, Soap spurs up a conversation, hoping the man may have a bed that might need a bit of extra warmth tonight.

The man looks at Soap for a long moment, with an almost calculating look. The man looks long enough to the point where Soap shifts slightly in his seat, worried that he over stepped and the man simply just wanted to drink and nothing more. Yet, to Soap’s mild surprise, the man nods, effectively standing up from his bar stool and laying a 20 out on the table for the bare tender.

The man is quick to start moving for the door, only to pause to look back at Soap.

“You coming here or at my place?” The man says in a deep gravely tone, enough that Soap feels like he can drown in. Soap quickly felt himself blush.

“Fuck off.” Is Soap’s clever retort as he quickly slides off the bar stool and makes his way to the man.

“That’s what I plan on doing.” The man responds simply and fuck, Soap could die here and forever be a happy man.

-

Soap felt like he could barely move the next morning, stretching like a cat on the soft sheets below him, taking count of all the joints that pop.

When he left arm doesn’t pop, he tries again, trying to coax it to pop. What he doesn’t except, as he moves his elbow, is to touch skin.

Quickly, fast enough to make himself dizzy, Soap looks at the man in the bed. His scarred, pale body is bare, the blankets just barely covering below his naval. His deep brown eyes are half lidded, looking up at the Scot.

“Morning to you too, Soap.” That gravelly voice hits Soaps ears like a siren’s melody and-

Wait-

“I never told you my name.” Soap say scrambling off the bed, his mind already set in mission mode. How does this man know who he is? Is he an enemy spy?

Soap’s mind runs through a thousand and one loops trying to figure what to do, when all that is broken by a quiet but hearty laugh from the man in the bed.

“You did, ‘bout seven months ago.”

Soap’s mind races. Seven months ago? That was during the botched mission in Las Almos and-…why is there a skull mask on that desk?

Soap blinks, now focusing on his surroundings. The man’s closet is slightly open, peaking out is almost entirely black apparel, including one navy blue jacket and a jacket with the words ‘Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’ written on the back.

Slowly, he looks back at the man- at Ghost- who of which wears a smug smile on his bare face.

Maybe all that flirting over the past few months wasn’t just joke between guys….

“C’mon, I’m gonna make some bacon and eggs.” Ghost states as he pushes the covers off, only boxers on, and walks out the room.

Soap, finally blinking out of his stupor rushes afterwards, really hoping this won’t be a one time thing.

-

On this went longer than intended.

Also sorry that this didn’t get too spicy, I don’t write that kinda stuffs :/

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 10 (Finale and true ending)

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tommy Miller x reader

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

UUUUHHH ya'll i put the warnings there so uh you can't blame me for what I've done.

Before anything i gotta say the "id do anything for you, you amost killed me, that was for you" bit is curtesy of me and @the-fox-den messing around so credits to them XD

I cannot appreciate y'all readership more. I cried writing this on and off not only bc the content but that it's over. full emotions at the end!

Enjoy! (this is not enjoyable.)

***************

“Hey honey.” Tommy’s voice was groggy and sweet in the late morning. “You up already?”

You shuffled your body back, closer to where Tommy lay, warm and inviting… you missed him. You missed him so much. “Yeah just thinking…”

Nestling his face into your face, Tommy holds you tighter, a protective hand over your belly. “What about?” When you didn’t answer, he knew what you were thinking of. “Ah… you miss him, don’t you?” There wasn’t judgment in his voice, just the soft understanding that Tommy always gave, a grace that showed he knew what Joel had done to your mind.

Nevertheless, you tear up, embarrassed at your own weakness for the man who had nearly killed you and your baby. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… he had me so messed up and twisted… I didn’t know which way was up half the time… I felt like I was living in a haze…” You begin to cry, letting the frustrations out.

“Hey, hey now it’s alright. He’s good at that… he’s good at jumbl’n you up enough you can’t see straight… and he’s got that look… something in his eyes when his attention is focused on you… just makes you want to make him happy… I know what you mean… Did he hurt you a lot since I left?”

“No” You shake your head. “That was the strange part… It was… it was good… especially after he found out I was pregnant… It was… it was good, actually. I thought he changed… He didn’t… but I had a lot of freedom, I could do pretty much anything with Lorenzo watching me.” You chuckle a little bit, thinking of your friend. “At first I don’t think he was thrilled to be on babysitting duty, but when he realized he could drink and smoke all day I think he liked it a lot more.”

The smile in his voice was evident. “I’m glad you had a friend after I left, honey.” He brushed hair out of your face. “I saw… I saw Joel a few months back… he said you and Lorenzo had gotten close.”

“Yeah” But the tears came again.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?”

“I never said good bye” You cry. “Lorenzo… everything happened so fast and I didn’t get to say goodbye and now I don’t know if he’s even gonna live.”

Tommy coaxed you to turn over and face him, his face beautiful in the rising orange sun kissing his skin and complimenting his dark hair. “Honey, listen, Maria is gonna make sure he’s taken care of. He’s gonna be okay and once he’s rested up, I’m sure he’ll come to Boston, or at least get word out if he’s got other plans.” Tommy didn’t actually know any such thing but he wanted to comfort you.

“He’s coming to Boston” You assure. “He promised me… and him and Zach are a couple, actually.”

His face was one of confusion, then realization. He chuckled. “Love really just… finds a way, huh?”

When you look into his eyes… you can’t help but agree. “Yeah, it does…” He face was so close to you, it’d been so long since he’d held you… even before he left, you two had grown distant, Joel successfully putting a edge between you two, and you hadn’t spend the time with him you used to, angry and upset with him for reasons that didn't make sense… but that was how badly Joel had messed up your sense of direction. And yet, none of that mattered when Tommy was in trouble. You’d put yourself between Joel’s gun and Tommy, and if you weren’t pregnant you’d do it again. Tommy was always there for you, as much as he could be… he was manipulated by Joel, just like you were, but still he tried… and here he was, sleeping on a cold hard floor with you because he uprooted his entire life with Maria… for you.

The kiss was sudden, you pressing your lips to his and for a sweet, lingering moment he kissed back, chest rising as he breathed through nose, savoring you before pulling back whispering your name. 

“I love you…” You confess, eyes closed and foreheads pressed together.

“Honey, you don’t… you don’t have to feel or do anything just because I’m here-”

“I love you.” More assertive this time. He thinks you feel like you have to, like there's pressure… but you never felt that with Tommy. Tommy wasn’t Joel. Tommy was kind and patient, Tommy was loving and gentle and good… Tommy was the one you loved.

Tommy reached out, caressing your hair. “I love you too, honey, I’m sorry I had to leave you” the words just began spilling out from him, tumbling out Tommy’s mouth like a desperate plea for absolution for sins he never willingly committed. “I’m sorry I never stopped him, I’m sorry I didn’t do more, I’m sorry I left you alone in all that-”

You cut him off with another kiss, needier and lonely, clamoring for a connection. “It’s okay, Tommy. It’s okay. I’m okay now, everything will be okay.” And it would be. You were with Tommy now, and Tommy would keep you safe. You hands wander, trailing down his back as you continued to kiss him, feeling him, getting to know the curves and dips and muscles of him for the first time. Your hands move to undo his pants, but he stops you.

“We don’t- honey you’ve had a traumatic week”

“Tommy, I want you…” You whine, and you did. You did, so fucking bad. You missed Joel, you missed Tommy, your head was swirling with guilt and fear and a deep, deep down ache of loneliness that you didn’t know how to fill other than skin on skin. It was all you really knew. Nearly everyone you had cared about, save for Zach, and Lorenzo showed their love with touch. Even June did, although it wasn’t sexual. Tommy always held you when you cried, sat up in his lap with arms wrapped around you as he did now. “I want you Tommy, please?” You whine. You couldn’t deny that the pregnancy hormones worsened things, making you incredibly needy. “I need you, Tommy”

Tommy sighed. He knows he shouldn’t. The week you’ve had, the year you've had, hell, the entire life you had groomed you into submitting your body to men for money, shelter, affection. This is what you knew. Then there was Maria, his girlfriend who he lived with, with whom he swore fidelity too, who had seen this poor, young traumatized her and willingly let him go because she trusted him… That was the other thing, you were still so young… Tommy had made the comment to Joel that if Sarah had lived, he she would be older than this girl in his arms was now… That should’ve made Joel disgusted… shouldn’t it disgust Tommy too? But Tommy was weak, he knew he was weak… and he loved her, didn’t he? This wasn’t a lust filled rape, this wasn’t him taking advantage of her youth and naivety, they were in love, and she needed him. 

“Yeah baby, I’ll take care of you.” Tommy allowed you to undo his pants while he quickly undid your flannel. In the daylight and as he pulled it and the dress over your shoulders, he could see the full extent of your injuries. Where your collar hid, there was a mixture of purple and green bruising around your neck and throat, accentuated by red from the rope burn, and yet the hardest to stomach was your chest. A large black bruise formed on your chest from the repeated punching. “Oh honey… you’re lucky he didn’t break a rib.”

“I don’t wanna talk about him.” You grumble, beginning to shimmy him out of his pants. “Just want you, Tommy. I want you the right way, like we never got the chance to, the way Joel took from us.”

“The right way” He kissed you, lips full of love, offering protection and solace in the distortion. He wastes no time  pulling your underwear down and slipping a hand to cup your sex, immediately giving you the pleasure he swore he could your first time together, but you had refused. He felt so good, firm and assured in his movements between your legs, but soft and caring, making you feel special in his touch.

You spit in your hand and begin to jerk his cock as you both laid there, your giant belly getting in the way. “Usually wetter, the last month things have been… different” A bit embarrassed, you mutter into his shoulder. You were turned on, very much so, but your lower body didn’t seem to get the message. Joel never seemed to care much. You got wet eventually, especially after cumming, but the in between usually hurt.

“That’s normal.” Tommy assured. “Pregnancy hormones. But I’ll make sure you’re real wet, baby, get on your back.” Doing as you were told, you roll over, Tommy slithering his way down you and pressing affectionate kisses over your swollen stomach. “So beautiful…”

He ate you like a man starved, like a past meal on death row, desperate and savoring every last taste. Joel always felt good, so, so, good, but there was an electricity here, all the built up tension between you two, like a rubber band finally snapping and he couldn’t get enough. Tommy worshiped at the shrine of you, adoration in the prayer on his lips, his arms wrapped around your legs as you grew closer so you couldn’t wiggle away, he needed every second, every inch, every taste, every sound reclaimed for him. It was a conquest, a crusade, a burning need as he licked into your folds, pleasure and fire and love building in your core, fingers opening up to prepare you to take him, fucking into you and god, you were moaning for him.

“Tommy! Tommy please make me cum, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I’ll do anything you want, just-”

“Lay there and take it, princess, that’s all you gotta do.” His head dived back between your legs and eagerly devoured, lips latching on your swollen mound, sucking noisily, soaking your as promised. Two fingers turned into three, and while his lips sucked his tongue flicked at your clit, causing your legs to shake. You entangle your fingers in his long, dark locks, having grown longer since you’ve seen him last and yank him towards you. You didn’t need to guide him, you didn’t need his tongue deeper inside you; he knew what he was doing. What you needed was something to grip onto as your world shattered around you. Tommy was always who you reached for. Everything you needed, Tommy did his best to provide, and when you were terrified, as Joel dragged you away to kill you, all you wanted was your Tommy. You screamed his name as you did now. Gushing cum on his face, you yank at his hair and fuck his face while you ride out your orgasm on his still moving mouth.

Vaguely, you register him kissing his way up your body, laying around you as he couldn’t lay on top, Tommy kissed you back to life, finding his soft eyes staring at you as you open your own… 

“You still want me?” He asks, a rough but caring hand stroking your face.

“More than anything.”

He was careful, he always was with you, treating you like a fragile porcelain doll, but you promised him you could take it and he sped up, fucking you, really fucking you the way you had wanted for months after you grew comfortable in that house. He knelt before you knees on the hard floor but showed no signs of pain as his hips snapped into you, your moans growing louder.

“Tommy!” You call out for him, ecstasy building inside you like the sweat on his forehead.

“Right here honey, I’m right here.” He rubbed your knee that he had braced himself on. “Neve gonna leave you again, I promise.”

“You- you promise?” Looking up at him from this angle… he looked god-like. Tan and strong, but handsome and kind… you wanted him forever, you wanted only him and for him to have only you. He filled you up over and over and over, your hips canting up to meet him.

“Promise, princess. I’ll never leave you, ever. You’re mine.”

His.

“I’m yours” You whine for him, on the precipice of your climax, you just needed…

“And I’m yours. Now, I need you to come, and when you do, I want you to scream my name, okay? Can you do that for me, beautiful girl?” His hand was on your hip, large and rough and covering Joel’s initially branded on you.

You’re panting heavily, so, so close when he sets a brutal pace, spilling you over. 

Tommy thinks this is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. All the times you called for him when you needed him, when Joel was done, when you were hungry or needed to use the bathroom or just were lonely, none of it compared to this…

You scream for him, crying out loudly as he continues to thrust into you, talking you through it like he had the panic attack that had overtaken you when you gave him your virginity.

“Just like that, honey, good girl.” He coo’s, ever letting up on your sensitive cunt. “So pretty coming on my cock, love when you scream my name… there you go, pretty little thing…”

Tommy was right. He made you scream his name louder than Joel’s.

When he came inside you, claiming you as his in a primal, animalistic sense, the cold began to settle on the sheen of sweat between you, and Tommy pulled a blanket over you. A little rest before heading out.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask.

He didn't need clarification. Tommy knew you well enough. “Yeah, I did. I’m gonna stay with you, honey.”

“What about Maria?”

A fair question, but Tommy sighed nonetheless. “I’ll send word I won't’ be come’n back… I think… I think she knew, she knew before I ever did.”

When the two of you set out on the road again, you wanted to walk for a while. All the riding the last day made you sore and you just walked to stretch your legs, aching joints and pregnant body needing movement. You and Tommy talked, really talked about the future, what it would look like in Boston, wherever it is exactly Lorenzo and Zach had for you… Someone Tess knew? A couple who had been a ‘doomsday prepper’ before… You wouldn’t live on their farm, but in a house nearby. Somewhere fairly safe for you and your baby, and Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy to protect it… Tommy confirmed what you had secretly hoped but could never ask. He’d be your baby's father, he’d raise them with you, loving it as his own.

“Well ain’t that sweet.” You freeze in place when you hear Joel’s voice, the older brother stepping into sight from a tree, gun pointed at you and Tommy. “Fucked my wife, stealing my daughter,” he looks at Tommy. “I can’t believe you’d sink this low, Tommy.”

The irony of who was sinking low was lost on Joel, Tommy was aware. There was no point fighting it. One hand held the reigns of the horse, his right was in the air as yours were. “Joel, c’mon, I know damn well you aren’t going to hurt either one of us so just let-” He was cut off by his own scream, falling against the horse and gripping his upper arm.

“TOMMY!” You scream for him, rushing to his side before Joel shouts to get away. You want to help Tommy… but you had a duty to your child, a duty you knew Tommy would understand. You cried, looking him over. He was still standing, clearly in pain, but blood shooting out of his arm. Nothing vital.

Joel only looked at you. “That’s right, scream his name, little one. Always his name, isn’t it?” Joel stepped forward, ignoring Tommy’s anguished plea’s for him to stay away from you; Joel’s sights were on you and you alone. Nothing else existed, not even his bleeding baby brother. “Sceam’n for him when you think I’m hurting you, when you think I’ve been cruel, when you want his company because I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH”

You barely registered your own tears, the trembling in your stance, knowing there was nothing you could do.

“That’s how I found you, heard you screaming my own fucking brothers name like a whore in that cabin while pregnant with my daughter!”

Shaking your head, you take a weak step back. “Joel, please, I was scared. I was so scared, you tried to kill me-”

“Is that what you think that was?” A cruel, mocking laugh escaped him in his mania before turning to Tommy. “Is that what she told you, Thomas? ‘Oh Tommy!’” His voice was light and girlish as he mimicked you. “‘Oh Tommy, Joel’s so mean to me!’ Well that ain’t the truth. She’s a cheating whore, and she needs to do better for Sarah, so I’m trying to teach her.” 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the visible confusion on Tommy’s face turn into shock and horror. “Sarah? Jesus Joel! Is that what all this is? You’re trying to recreate Sarah? Or is it the picket fence two parent household you never got with her?” 

“Don’t talk about her!” Joel screamed at the younger man, his attention turning to Tommy, and you watched for your chance.

“SARAH IS DEAD! SHE’S DEAD AND SHE’S NOT COMING BACK!” His next words… Tommy didn’t mean, not one single bit, he witnessed himself how much Joel tried to save his child, the little girl who was the entire world to him… But he needed Joel’s attention on him, he needed to be the focus of Joel’s anger. “SARAH IS DEAD AND IT’S YOUR FAULT!”

You take a step back.

“SHUT UP!” Another scream from Joel.

“MY NIECE IS DEAD BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T LOVE HER ENOUGH TO TRY HARDER-”

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!”

But Tommy already moved, Joel’s teary eyes and blinding anger slowing his perception and Tommy moved the barrel of the gun away from him and you before Joel took the shot.

“RUN!”

And you did. You didn’t know where to, but you ran for your life, for your babies. Hearing a gun go off again, you stop briefly wondering if you just heard either the man you loved or the father of your child die… but there was no time to mourn or think, you needed to go. 8 months pregnant, you do everything you can to keep running, but you are stopped by a blinding pain in your stomach, causing you to scream before you can even stop yourself.

When it fades, you open your eyes to see an infected.

There was no time for pain.

Contractions going again, you prayed for another round of braxton-hicks and not actual labor, you prayed Tommy was alive, you prayed the infected behind you couldn’t move fast due to one thing or another… but you couldn’t stop to look. The adrenalynn did most of the work, as did sheer willpower. You didn’t think you could power through running so fast and so long if it was just you, but the mother instinct to protect this baby went above everything. Like a blessing, you see the cabin you had stayed at and took off towards it, infected at your heels, horrific noises that you shall surely hear the rest of your life should you survive this letting you know there was no time to even wince at a particularly sharp contraction. They were not spaced… and if Lorenzo was right, and if this wasn’t braxton-hicks…. You were going to give birth in this cabin.

The slam of the door behind you did not save you, as soon you found yourself sitting in an empty room with a chair propped against the door as the infected tried to get in, your switchblade gripped in your hands, as the baby tried to come out.

You can’t help but scream in pain; the infected already knew where you were, it was only a matter of time until it came in and you had to be face to face with it for the first time. You’d seen them from afar of course, but you had never been close; someone always protected you, Zach, Lorenzo, Tommy, Joel… you’re whole life you had depended on men to save you from other men and a litany of evils in this world and none of them had been able to stop this. No one stepped in between you and your dad, no one stepped in between you and Joel, and no one would step between you and this abomination… 

But you’d try your damndest to step between your baby and whatever might harm them, and if that meant facing this infected, you’d do it.

When it burst in, you don’t bother hiding our scream; they looked horrific and the sounds were just as bad, but god, the smell was nauseating to your pregnant senses. None of that compared to the genuine fear as you fought for your life and for this baby. The creature was right in your face as you stabbed him, the jackknife now successfully ending two threats to you; the infected and Nick.

The moment you have to breath is gone when you hear the cry of your baby on the floor. You had given birth to a baby girl, just as Joel wanted, alone, with a bite on your leg.

You were infected, and this baby would grow up without a mom and with a psychopath rapist and murder for a dad. Tommy was surely dead, and even if Joel found you in the cabin she’d grow up with Joel. You didn’t believe he’d sexually abuse her, but physically? She’d be lucky if she made it to 10, not the mention the other men around her…

There was no time to cry or to smile, you couldn’t rejoice in the birth of this little girl or cry at the circumstances, you thought back to what Maura instructed you, Joel, and Lorenzo to do in the event you gave birth without her. Using that knife, you cut the cord and tie it.

Had you given birth before the bite? Was she infect? Had all your efforts to protect this innocent been useless? You once again kick yourself for not leaving with Zach any of the times he offered…She’d suffer because of you, if she lived at all. 

As your daughter screams, you scream too, loud and anguished and nameless. You didn’t cry for Tommy, for Zach, for Joel, for Lorenzo or June or anyone that had ever shown they wanted to help… no, you just screamed, because there was no other option.

Tommy had seen you run and tried to follow you, tried to call to you, but you either couldn’t hear him or could defier his voice from Joel who was currently crippled with a shot leg… Tommy couldn’t bring himself to kill Joel… he couldn’t. No matter how much of a big game he talked, Joel was still his big brother, and despite the telling signs of aging and the obvious way Joel was no longer Joel behind those eyes… They were still he eyes, and as Joel looked up at Tommy pointing the gun down on him, Tommy couldn’t fire. He couldn’t fire at the man who had saved his life countless times, the father of his niece, the father of the baby he had swore to raise as his own, and despite the way Joel had clearly lost his mind, lost all sense of reality… Tommy couldn’t kill his brother because yes, that was still his brother.

When he found you, it didn’t take long to figure out what happened, with the baby in your arms and the infected on the ground… your bite was clear and prominent.

“Oh honey… no…” Tommy dropped the gun on the floor and likewise dropped to his knees as he walked to you and the child. A little girl… 

“Tommy, please, please take her. If you don’t want her, take her to Zach and Lorenzo, just please take her-”

“I’ll take her, I’ll raise her, I swear.” Maria and him had talked about kids before… would she want this? Tommy couldn’t stop looking you over, he couldn’t process that you had been bit… this wasn’t a rattlesnake bite, there wasn’t a way to get the venom out… it was over. “I’m sorry.” He cried, tears flowing over before he registered they were coming. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, I’m sorry-”

“Tommy” You stop him, tears matching his. “Tommy, it's okay. Just protect her, okay? That’s what matters now, her.” Everything hurt, and you could swear there was something already changing in you, but maybe it was in your head.

Heavy boots clomping on the floor. “Get away from her.” Joel spoke, his voice low and dark, despite being unarmed. You notice his limp and the blood… Tommy hadn’t shot Joel to kill… and had greatly underestimated what Joel would do to get to you, including walking on a shot leg.

Tommy didn’t even turn around, still holding you and his, yes his baby, because there was no way in hell Joel was walking out with her. “She’s infected, Joel.”

Joel didn’t reply, and you looked up at him over Tommy’s shoulder, confirming it. You nudge Tommy to move, revealing his daughter. You speak before Tommy does. “I cut the cord before I was bit.” Your eyes dart to Tommy. “Before.” You lied, and you knew it was dangerous… but you needed your daughter to have a fighting chance.

Joel shook his head. “No, no we’ll get you help, theres gotta be-”

Grabbing his gun, Tommy turned around. “THERE’S NO HELP, JOEL!” He shouts. “This is your fault! This is all your fault and you can’t fix it!” His steps were long and quick, pinning an unarmed Joel to the wall gun to his head. Tommy was shaking, but you didn’t need to aim to shoot point blank. “I’ll fucking kill you for what you did to them.”

For once, you believed it. 

And it seems Joel did too. “That’s my daughter, Tommy. Yuh ain’t take’n her.” But Joel’s voice was weak, small… 

“Yes he is, Joel.” You speak from the floor. “He’s taking her, and one of you needs to kill me.”

Both of Miller brother turn to you at that, anguish and pain in Tommy’s eyes. “I… I can’t do that… I can’t… Honey, no…” You knew how badly he was hurting right now… but you didn’t want Joel dead, and someone needed to do it. You didn’t know how long you had.

“I know, Tommy. I know.” You smile sympathetically at your lover, and beckon him towards you. Tommy gives Joel a warning look, but takes the pistol off his brother and comes to you. “I know. I know you can’t and that’s okay. You take he, that’s what you need to do for me, okay?” Looking down at the crying baby in your arms you give her a kiss and whisper that you love her before pushing her into Tommy’s welcoming arms. “I know you feel guilty…” Reaching up to touch his face one last time, you smile as he leans into your touch. “Sweet, sweet boy… you have nothing to be ashamed of, you’ve always done right by me. But if you feel you need absolution, this is your chance.”

Tommy looked at the little girl in his arms… she was so small, so fragile… but he would protect her, he would do right by her the way he couldn’t do to you. She was his baptism, his new life, a fresh start. He was a father now. “I will” He looked at you again.

“Her name is Ellie” Fimly, you spoke it into truth. “It’s not Dorthy, it’s not Dolly, its Ellie.” Looking up at Joel, the hurt clear on his face at the erasure of what he wanted to give her, you offer a small mercy, the middle name he agreed on, named after the singer he liked so much, and your friend back home. “Ellie June.”

Tommy nodded. “Ellie June, it’s beautiful.” He touched his forehead to you softly and you slipped your hand to touch Ellie’s little toes. This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none, and this little piggy cried wee, wee, wee… “I’ll never forget you, and I’ll make sure she knows about you, okay? She’s gonna know who you are.”

“Zach… please, get word to Zach somehow, tell him he’s an uncle.”

“I will, I swear.”

“And Lorenzo, Lorenzo said he’d be the godfather. Please thank him for everything he’s done for me.” You sob thinking about your best friend.

“I will, I’ll tell him.”

“And Zach, please tell him I love him so much, and thank him for being my big brother.”

“They both love you, hermosa, I know they do.” He stroked your hair with his free hand.

“Tommy, one more thing?”

“Anything”

“June, please, can you find her? Tell her I loved her, she’s Ellie godmother in spirit.”

“Abslutly, is there anyone else? I’ll do it.”

You shake your head, tears flying as you do. “No, those three… they are all I know- wait, Maura and Jack, Jack risked everything to help me escape, and Maura with my pregnancy” You chuckle a bit. “Who knew dying had so many many loose ends to tie up” You hadn’t realized… you had grown a small community. It had taken a village to keep you and your baby alive.

He smiled. “I’ll tell them all, honey, I promise, especially Zach.” Tommy had an older brother too, and a;thought his had turn into a monster, he understood the love of a protective brother, and would not be who he is without Joel in their childhood and youth.

You whisper a thank you, before sealing his promises with a tearful kiss. When Tommy pulled away, you knew it was time…

“Goodbye Ellie, mommy loves you.”

Then, it was just you and Joel. 

“I never wanted this, little one.” He spoke, voice filled with sincerity and pain. “I know you think I hate you, that I want you to hurt-”

“I don’t think that Joel.” You deny his accusation, but you are honest. For once, you can be honest. “I think you’re a broken man who doesn’t know how to love, but I don’t think you hate me, and I don’t know you never wanted any of this.”

“I loved you! Everything I did was for you!”

“You almost killed me-”

“THAT WAS FOR YOU!” He screamed at you, but it wasn’t rage or fury, it was wretched and broken and him. A heart broken father who had lost his daughter, and is now about to lose his wife, and if Tommy can help it, his brother and baby.

Closing your eyes, you move on. “You can’t have her, Joel.”

He steps closer, boots loud against the creaking floor. “Tommy ain’t taking my daughter, I ain’t losing her.”

A dry laugh. “I’m not sure you ever loved Ellie-”

“Her names not Ellie, it’s Dolly-”

“You loved Sarah, and Ellie was a replacement. What if we had a boy, Joel? C’mon. Let her be, let them go.” Couldn’t he give you this? A deathbed wish to save your baby… 

“No.” But you could tell he was wavering. “That’s my daughter.”

“What’s your plan then? You don’t have day care. The only raiders you could have trusted with her are Tommy and Lorenzo and they are gone. You can’t do it alone… You’ve seen those men gang rape women, you think they won’t rape Ellie?”

“Stop calling her that.”

“You think they won’t beat her, touch her? Even if they don’t, is she suppossed to grow up around violence and rape? You gotta think this through, Joel! There’s no day care, no PTO, you’re two top men just left you, you can’t keep her safe! You can’t protect her, she’s gonna die like-”

“Fine!”

There's a long, shocked silence between the two of you, the gravity of what he’s agreed to give up… You weren’t sure if you believed in god, and if you did, whose god it was… you weren’t sure you believed in an afterlife, or anything of the sort. But if you did… you could be convinced that Sarah’s spirit touched Joel, breaking through his obsession, his mental illness, the delusions he had… to keep her little sister safe. 

“I’ll… she can go with Tommy.” Heartbroken, Joel acquiesced, then knelt in front of your exhausted body. “I know you don’ think I loved you, but… just know I cared, okay? I just-”

“I believe you.” You took in his scent once more. “For what it’s worth, I think maybe we loved each other in our own sick way… It was always gonna end like this… ” You push the jackknife into his hands.

“Where did you get this?” Joel referenced the knife with wooden encasing. 

“Nick’s skeleton.”

Joel couldn’t help but smile “Brave girl” He kissed you, and you allowed it, wanting to taste him just one more time. 

Knife in grip, you taking rough hand and bring it to your throat, tucked under your chin just beneath where your wet faces pressed together, foreheads and noses and lips melding into one as he could consume your soul, bring you into him forever.

“I love you, little one. Always have.”

“And I loved you, Joel.”

“What’s that song you like?”

“Red River Valley”

“Yeah, that’s the one. How did that last line start?”

You smile, eyes closed, and start singing it. “Come and sit by my side if you love me…”

Joel joined in the pair of you singing together. “Do not hasten to bid me adieu, but remember the the red river valley” You’re voice choked up so bad on the last word, you couldn’t finish it.

You think back to the night Ellie was conceived, the night Tommy left, they way Joel fucked you, words uttering into life the possession he had over you. It was foolish to think you could be free of him in this life. That pain? The pain is mine. Your cries are mine, your cunt is mine. And if you bleed?

Joel sang the last line for you, voice as soft as a whisper.. “And the cowboy who loved you so true.”

His lips pressed a final kiss and you felt the sharp pain and oozing liquid leaving you, your gasps and cries of pain stifled by his mouth. Eventually, the warmth of the blood enveloped you into darkness, and the agony of this life you were subjected to since childhood ended.

If you bleed? Your blood is mine.

Joel inhaled your last breath into his, sucking in the evidence of your life with his lips attached to yours until his head grew dizzy from lack of oxygen. Your blood was cooling on his body.

Joel limped out of the room, covered in her blood, only to find Tommy rocking a baby in one arm and a gun aimed at Joel with the other, tears streaming down his face.

“You killed her.” Tommy stated the obvious.

Not even bothering to raise his hands, Joel replied. “The infected killed her, Tom-”

“No.” The low tone of voice warned of something serious, and Joel pondered if Tommy was capable of actually killing him. “You did this. All of this. This last year you beat and tortured and raped her and made her think this was love. Calling her your wife, Joel?” Tommy shook his head in disgust. “I didn’t think you were capable of this, even after everything.”

Joel glowered his eyes at Tommy, not happy to have this talk again. “I didn’t see you ever stop’n me, Tommy.”

“No.” Tommy’s answer was candid. “That’s my cross to bare. And she-” he needed down to the sleeping baby in his arms. “She’s my vindication, and I’m gonna do right by her.”

Joel held out his hands, causing Tommy to step back. “Give me my daughter, Tommy.”

Worry crossed his face. “You promised-”

“I just wanna say goodbye” It was rare Joel spoke like this… so quiet, so soft… But Tommy didn’t trust him. “No, you-you’ll hurt her.”

The way Joel looked in Tommy’s eyes was earnest… so much hurt and sadness Tommy felt like he was actually looking at his brother again… “I’d never hurt my daughter.”

Tommy believed him. “Gun to your head the whole time. You try to take her away, I shoot you.”

“Okay.”

He was right, the gun was pressed to his head as Joel said his goodbye. “I love you. No matter what anyone tells you, I love you, and I loved your mom. She’s up in heaven watching out for you, she’s there with your big sister, your grandparents, everyone. They love you, just like I do, just like Tommy does. I’m gonna protect you still, okay? Jackson is under my protection, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you or your family.” Joel will protect his daughter with his life, and that means protecting those who care for her. Tommy, Maria, all of Jackson. As long as she's taken care of they are safe. “I love you, baby girl.”

Hesitantly, Joel handed Ellie back to Tommy, her new daddy, and he felt like he was letting go of a peace of himself. Nother brother bothered hiding the tears.

“I never want to see your face again, Joel. Do not come near me or my child ever again.”

Joel wanted to argue, to say it was his daughter, and he could take her whenever he wanted… But she was right. Ellie was better off with Tommy. Tommy could provide a stable home, with a mom and a dad, a community to make friends, school, church, and most importantly, safety. Tommy was younger, he could keep up with a child, fight off what he needed to… Tommy was a good uncle to Sarah… he’d be a good dad to her.

“Tommy, wait” But Tommy kept walking. “Wait!”

“SHHH!” Tommy whipped around, whispering harshly. “You’ll wake her!” 

As if Joel didn’t raise a whole child himself. “Just… here.” Joel cleaned of the knife and handed it to a nervous Tommy. “For her.”

Tommy glared at the gift. “You want me to give her the knife you killed her mother with?”

“She killed the infected with it, and that’s what I killed Nick with… I used it to ortect her, and she used to to protect… Ellie.” Joel said her name outloud now. “You don’t have to tell her about me just… I want her to have something, please?”

Tommy stared at Joel for several moments. He hated Joel… but he’d always live him. Joel raised him most of his life, and they raised Sarah together. Joel was his brother, always, and the reason his now-daughter existed. “I’ll tell her about Sarah. I’ll… She’ll know she has a sister.” A fresh tear escaped, Tommy wiped it with the sleeve of the arm holding the knife as he sniffled at the mention of his precious niece he loved so much. “I dunno how I’m gonna explain the rest, but she’ll know she had a sister.” A deep breath. “And she’ll have her knife, so no matter what… you both with be protecting her, okay?”

Joel nodded.

“But you can’t go after the others. Zach, Lorenzo, Jack, Maura, got it? They are gonna suffer enough. With this news, just… leave them be.”

Joel agreed, then explained his horse is out front, a quick ride back to Jackson. Joel would walk back on his wounded leg. “Thank you, Tommy. I love you. I’m always gonna love you, even if you hate me.”

Turning on a heel, Tommy walked away, carrying little Ellie, taking off his scarf to wrap around her in the cool weather. It wasn’t anything too cold, the sun was out and shining at least, and no wind. Tommy was dead set and determined to walk away, to never speak to his brother again… but he stopped. He didn’t look back, but he spoke, quiet but just loud enough for Joel to hear. “I love you too, hermano.”

With that, Joel watched the only two things left in this life that he loved, walk away.

***********

Joel at the end, what Tommy see’s as Joel exits the room after murdering little one

Art my @melodymakesart

Continue the story 16 years latter with Ghost of You, Ellie’s journey in finding out the truth

Wow. WOW. I cannot thank you guys all enough for how much support i've gotten on this series. Biggest thank you's to the-fox-den, dinsbaby, foggymoonbanana, primos world, Fen, my dear maura, miraclesabound, not a unique snowflake blog and koshkaj for always leaving such nice comments! (everyones comments are appriacted and loved i just see these guys do it every single chapter without fail.)

also thanks to everyone who reached out about the bomb threat. we are all doing much better now.

I love you al so much and cannot ever express how much the reaction to this series has touched me.

That's right, the baby is Ellie.

I do want to say, that in this series, since reader isn't Anna, this means Ellie can look like anything, no matter the race. It just matters she's ellie and she's immune. Little one isn't a great reader, she's largely oc but i wanted to keep things as inclusive as i could instead of an OC

and i did say major character death ;-; good bye little one. You deserved better.

THOUGHTS?!?!?! shout out to spadesjade on ao3 who correctly guess that little one dies and tommy and maria raise the baby!

Remember, there's still the alt ending! This one will be a bittersweet, happier ish ending.

As always, if you hate both endings, my fics are open for you to write your own version of the end or use this universe in anyway. And if you'd like, i'll add it to the masterlist for additional reading!!!

In the mean time, come read Dirty Little Secret, my dark!joel one shot

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!

Remember, reblogs spread the work, comments motivate!!!!

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