#I’m just tired of trying to talk to him about the same things and having nothing change

[eddiesvixen]

Jessie’s Girl

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗰𝗶𝗴𝘀)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟰.𝟱𝗸

the third chapter of Open Til Midnight

June 23, 1979.

You and Eddie were at Skull Rock. Fourteen years young and laying back on a blanket, snacking and listening to Black Sabbath together. Eddie’s got his vest off, sewing a new patch onto it.

“Motörhead.”

“Yeah. Can you believe I got this at the fabric store. Kenny made it for me.” He smiles as he sews the patch on.

“Wish we could see them live. No way would they ever come here.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t even think they know Hawkins exists.”

You look over him. Eddie’s changed from a punk to thrash guy. His curls moving with every head shake to the music. “Your hair’s growing so long.”

“Yeah. Wayne says I’m starting to look more and more like my mom. Think he just wanted an excuse to say I look ridiculous again.”

You laugh. “You know he means well.”

“Yeah.. think he’s just tired of buying new shampoo. Not like he needed any hair cair.” He snorts.

“You tried another shampoo?” That’s the third one this month. Eddie just wants to make sure his mane smells good. He remembers in those interviews on Mtv that girls are attracted to rockstars and hire they smell, what they wear, what they play. With his new hairdo, new hellfire tees and promised gigs at the hideout on tuesdays, he was on the route to that dream.

“I did.” He smirks, proud of himself. “Go on give it a whiff.”

You lean in and his curls tickle your nose. You hum. “Blueberries?”

He nods. “And..”

“Something minty.” You raise a brow. “Peppermint?”

“Lemon mint.” He smiles. “What do you think?”

You giggle. “Think I have the same one.”

His eyes widen. “You’re joking right?”

“Wish I were. You’re swooning ladies with their own shampoo, Eddie.” You giggle and he shakes his head.

“Blasphemy. The bottle was in the men’s section.”

“Yeah but did you read the bottle? Did it say mens?”

“I just smelled it and put it in the cart.” He smiles at your laughter, now laughing at himself. “Damn. I can’t win can I?”

“Well you’re still new to having hair this long. And you’ve got all summer to rebirth yourself.”

“Damn straight, princess. And we’re gonna go through high school like nothing. Me and the boys can rehearse and have some real campaigns now that we’ve got the club. And since we’ve got gigs at the Hideout maybe we’ll finally be seen. Gonna focus on getting signed. Getting out of here.”

You love when Eddie gets like this. Talking about his dreams for Corroded Coffin. For his band.

“Leaving me so soon?” You nudge his foot with yours and he returns the gesture.

“I’m offended.” He clutches his chest yet again. “You think i’d let you stay here? No. Screw that, you’d be with us all the time.”

You can’t help but smile. “You are the sappiest metalhead I know. Nerdiest too.”

“Nerds have more fun.“ He winks at you. “And if im a sap so be it. You’re my best friend and you’re always here for me. We’re a package deal, sweetheart, no matter what.”

You grin. “No matter what.”

Best friends. A package deal. You and Eddie were and still are, inseparable. You swore that you’d always be there for each other no matter what, which is why Eddie’s disturbed today. He can’t stop thinking about how weird you were, how avoidant you behaved before leaving his apartment yesterday. He knew something was wrong but he didn’t want to pry. Not when there’s bigger things to focus on.

As you organize the cds, you try to focus on literally anything to get your mind off of Eddie. The ding of the door when a customer walks in, the sound of the Talking Heads from the store speakers, the annoying baby crying in his mother’s arms from the Fleetwood Mac section.

All you see is Eddie. His hair, his body, his face in those pictures. His lips so pink and arms so toned. Maybe he has been working out. Those jeans made his thighs looks so good, that slim waist.. you inly imagined how good his ass looked in them. And seeing him naked like that. His scarce happy trail leading down to his-

“Found it. Thought this broke ages ago but I can take it to Argyle’s buddy, see if he can check it out.” Jonathan says as he holds a half damaged amp from the break room.

“Looks good enough to sell. Did you check for any plugs?”

“No but im taking Robin and Steve to three different pawn shops so if we get a good deal just call.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you after.”

You head to the register to take up for Robin while she leaves. Selling the old amps and guitars, different things you don’t use anymore from the storage space next to the store. It’s an easy way to add cash to your current savings. You just hope it’s enough.

~~~~

Your shift is going nice. It’s an easy one. Monday’s usually are. Inventory is done, customers come and go and you enjoy your spot at the register, talking with different customers and introducing them to new music.

Chrissy walks up to the counter. “Hey, i’m taking lunch so Eddie’s gonna cover for me up here.”

Eddie. Just great. You hadn’t spoken to him since yesterday after seeing those pictures.

“Okay.”

She smirks and looks in the rock section. You think Eddie’s standing there but no, it’s someone else but still, someone familiar.

“That cute blonde guy’s back again.” She smiles and looks at you.

“He always comes on mondays.” You nod and shrug, not thinking much of him.

“I know. He flirts with you every monday.” She grins, with a suggestive look in her eyes.”

“Is it flirting if I don’t reciprocate?.”

“Yes.” She smiles. “Come on, you haven’t had a date since when?”

Since last October. You found him hooking up with some other girl, she looked nothing like you. And you honestly didn’t know if that hurt you more or relieved you.

“Give it a rest, chris. He’s a customer and I am not interested in some random guy-“

“Could I get one of those Springsteen pins?” He smiles, vinyls in hand and a cute grin on his face.

He’s got the cutest nose and blue eyes so captivating, the ocean would be jealous. Maybe it is. His beachy waves of blonde hang over his forehead a bit.

You grab the pin and grin as he sets his yinyls on the counter. Bruce Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Madonna, Aerosmith. Of course he gets Aerosmith, he always does.

“Madonna?” You raise your brow.

“It’s for my sister.” He’s quick to respond. “But I do love a good material girl.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You smile, ignoring how Chrissy’s been glancing at the both of you from the record player behind the counter.

“That’s a nice ring you got there.” He nods at the silver ring on your left middle finger, a dark onyx gem in the center.

“Thanks, was a gift.”

You remember turning 20, and the big party you all threw here in this very store. Steve walked you out for a surprise lunch and when you came back, everyone had party hats and hung streamers. The store closed earlier that day as you all shared cake and drinks.

Everyone gave you their gifts at the party but Eddie waited to drive you home to give you his gift. The ring looked so expensive and he explained he saved up for it for months. When he slid it onto your finger it just made since, it was perfect. And you looked into each other’s eyes. You still remember what he told you that night in the van. His voice.

“Excuse me.”

His voice.

“Shit.. sorry.”

You move to the side to let him reach under the counter. Sharpie. More vinyls to be shipped out. Chrissy steps back to let Eddie key into the register since he’s next to check out customers here.

You bag up the customer’s cds and he hands you his cash.

“Will this be all?” You ask the blonde guy.

“Yeah,” he nods and takes the bag and his change from you. “Actually um, I just wanted to ask if you were busy. Tomorrow.”

Chrissy looks at Eddie. Eddie looks at your foot. Your boot tapping against the rug. Nerves. And he feels them too.

“Um.. well, I have to work, so..”

“What time do you get off?”

“Seven.” You nod.

“How about I pick you up? Take you for dinner?” He smiles.

Suddenly Eddie hates the color blue, seeing how the guy’s eyes light up when you say..

“Sure.”

He smiles. “Well great. I will.. i’ll see you then,” he looks at your nametag then saying your name.

“I’ll see you then..”

He smiles. “Jessie.”

You grin. “Bye Jessie.”

He leaves and goes out the door. Chrissy decides to leave to avoid the awkward conversation she knows is about to take place. You focus on your register as the space behind the counter feels smaller. You’ve told yourself too many times that Eddie is just your best friend and he definitely doesn’t see you like that. If he did, he would’ve made a move, and he hasn’t made a move. You needed something. Anything, to get your mind off of the pictures of Eddie that you saw. If it was a date with Jessie then so be it.

After some silence you Eddie speaks up, his voice a bit relaxed. Too relaxed.

“Dating the Aerosmith guy?”

“I guess dinner would be nice.” You look at him and he hasn’t looked up from the clipboard as he writes down the packages he’s signed and boxed up.

“He pulled the push door again on his way out.” The corner of his mouth lifts a bit as that familiar smug smirk starts to form.

You grin. “What are you keeping tabs on him?”

He huffs out a small laugh and shakes his head, his messy curls falling with each movement. He whips his hair back to look at you this time.

“Maybe I should if he’s taking my best friend on a date.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Since when do you get all possessive?"

He leans against the counter, the smirk growing as he shrugs. "Since Aerosmith wannabes started sniffing around you."

You roll your eyes but the warmth rising in your cheeks betrays you. "It's just dinner, Eddie. And it's not like I need your approval."

He places a hand over his heart. "Approval? Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. But a warning? Absolutely."

You raise a brow, trying to read him. It’s a bit impossible to right now. "And what exactly are you warning me about?"

He taps the clipboard against the counter, thinking for a second before locking eyes with you. "Those guys always have an angle. Dinner leads to dessert, dessert leads to backstage passes and before you know it, you're a line in one of their breakup ballads."

You can’t help but to laugh. “Are you telling me Corroded Coffin has lines about girls in their ballads?”

He chuckles. “Did you see any girls lined up to talk to us?”

“Well, not really.” You bite your lip. “You really think Jessie’s like that?”

Hearing you say his name scars Eddie but he’s playing it cool. “Don’t know. Just looking out for you, someone has to.”

You meet his gaze with a playful challenge in your eyes. "And what if I don't need looking out for? What if I like the idea of being a song lyric?"

He leans in closer, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Then you're more reckless than I thought."

You swallow at the closeness and for a moment, the air between you changes. Charged and heavy like the static before a storm. His smirk falters for just a second, replaced by something softer, something... real. Something innocent. Those soft boyish features that hide how rowdy and chaotic he is.

A customer walks up to his register. He looks over your face and speaks lowly for only your ears. “Just be careful.”

He stands straight and greets the woman, ringing up her tapes and you swallow and stand in front of your register.

~~~~~

Tuesday. Four days until the first.

Steve managed to get a decent six hundred for a box of some of his old sneakers. Jonathan and Robin made four hundred and thirty seven dollars for the amps and an old acoustic guitar. You added the cash together from Hopper’s pile and the college dealings you and Eddie did on Sunday.

You sit in the break room, counting the cash as you hear a curse from the restroom.

You call out. “Are you okay?”

“Uh.. all good , sweetheart.”

The door’s cracked open so you take a break and walk over, walking in after he tells you to. You gasp, seeing he has scissors in his hand, his thumb bleeding as he sucks his wounded finger.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You quickly grab the scissors.

“Just a trim.” Eddie winces and reaches for the first aid kit.

You take out the bandages and shake your head. “To your bangs? You’ve actually lost your mind.”

He flips on the sink and washes his hands. Drying them and taking the bandaid from you. “Thanks mom, but I think i’ve got it.”

Your brows furrow. “But you always let me trim your hair.”

He shrugs and looks away. “Didn’t think you wanted to.”

You couldn’t blame him for how he felt. You just pull him to sit on the lid of the toilet seat and take out the scissors. He gives a small nod of surrender, letting you do as you please. You stand between his legs and get to trimming.

You speak softer. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more communicative.”

“You don’t need to apologize, princess. Just.. worried I made you upset or something.”

You raise a brow. “Why would I be upset?”

He looks up at you. “The party.”

Your eyes widen a bit. The college party? “What do you mean?”

He fiddles with the rips in his jeans a bit. “You really dont remember?”

He’s hesitant and that worries you a bit. “Eddie what happened?”

He speaks in a tone so low as if to save you embarrassment from each other. “You know, when you tried to kiss me.”

What?

“What?”

“When you had that smirnoff and we sold the last bag of K, you like.. grabbed my face and pulled me down.” He looks away.

“Oh I.. I didn’t know-“

“It’s okay. I know you were pretty drunk you had like ten of those things.” He sighs. “I guess I just.. when you tried to kiss me I kinda grabbed your hands and told you to stop. I thought you might’ve been pissed at me and left in a hurry on Sunday.”

You can’t believe yourself right now. Wanting to kiss Eddie? Hell yes. But making him feel like your behavior was his fault and not due to your own discovery? Not in a million years.

“No. Eddie I, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get handsy or weird. It’s just.. so much going on. I feel like shit.”

He looks up at you. “I don’t mind at all. I get you wanted to get drunk and forget about your worries for a bit. I just can’t stand the way things are right now.” You watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I miss you.”

You look back into his eyes. “I miss you too, Eddie.”

He sighs and stands up, pulling you into a hug in which you happily and quickly return. It feels good being this close to him. His hair tickling your skin, the warmth of his body, his scent. That scent.

He raises a brow when he feels your body tremble from holding in a laugh. “What?”

You laugh. “Blueberries and lemon mint!”

He laughs along with you. “Damn, I feel exposed princess. You’re being a bad friend.”

“You still use that same shampoo?”

“Hey it hasn’t failed me in the ten years that i’ve been using it and I plan on keeping it that way.” He points a finger at you so you point one back.

You grin, leaning closer as your finger playfully taps his. "Ten years, huh? That's commitment. You might be more loyal to that shampoo than anything else in your life."

He chuckles, dropping his hand but not stepping away from you. "Maybe. But hey if it smells good and works why change it?"

You tilt your head, your smile softening as you study him. “Fair enough.” You sit the scissors down as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

“You look really nice today.” He says a bit sheepishly.

You do. After all, you had a date tonight. You wanted to make an impression. Since you and Jessie agreed on a casual night out you wore a brand new pair of light wash jeans, the bootcut ones that show off your curves in the best way. Your pretty white notched Twisted Sister tee and your hair beautifully worn to your liking.

“Thanks. I mean, I didn’t wanna scare him away on the first date with a shit ton of eyeliner or some demonia’s.”

“If that scares any guy away then he’s blind.”

You smile, cheeks tinged with heat. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“Promise me if things get weird you’ll call me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” He gives a small grin. “I would hate to show blondie the beast.”

“The beast?” You laugh. “Eddie, have you ever actually won a fight?”

He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. "I'll have you know I almost won plenty of fights, thank you very much."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Almost doesn't count, Eddie."

He narrows his eyes playfully, leaning against the counter. "Alright princess, remind me never to count on you for moral support.” He straightens up a bit. “But seriously. If he does anything sketchy, call me. I'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen if traffic sucks but i’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” You grin.

He shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a half smile. "Anytime. Just don't forget about us regular folk when blondie sweeps you off your feet."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. No one's sweeping me anywhere.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You lock eyes for a second. A warmth there that had been missing for a few days. So you almsot drunk kissed him and saw his pics, big whoop. If Eddie could move on from the avoidance so can you. The sweet moment is interrupted when Robin speaks over the intercom.

“Dingus needed at the register, the doors are now open.”

You both laugh.

“Duty calls,” he says, pushing off the counter and backing up to the door. "And remember, if he so much as looks at you wrong-"

"I know, I know," you interrupt with a laugh. "The beast will be unleashed."

"Damn right," he says, flashing you a grin before the door shuts behind him.

~~~~~

It was a nice day. No rude customers, your friendships were all good, and when you finished counting up the money you were closing in on having over five thousand. It’s only half, but it’s more than you started with before. But you promised yourself to focus on one thing tonight.

Jessie.

He’d taken you to a small bar with live music and then you grabbed dinner at the diner. You two got along well, talking rock music and careers. He was nice, a gentleman. He seemed pretty perfect. Too perfect. You two sit in the booth as you wait for dessert.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He sits up.

“Okay.”

He hesitates, not sure how to begin. But he does it anyways. “I come to the store a lot and well.. you dress differently a lot. I thought you were like some kind of goth or something.”

You smile. “Well I like goth music too but metal’s got my heart through and through.”

“Right but uh,” he shifts a bit in his seat and shrugs. “I mean you’re still normal to me, you know? Not like the rest of that crowd.”

You wait for the waitress to walk away after bringing your desserts. Jessie got cheesecake and you went for a milkshake per usual. Once she walks away you speak up.

“Rest of the crowd, huh?”

“Yeah. Like this really weird girl at my campus, she paints her face white and wears a bunch of pentagrams.” He hums and snaps. “And that one guy at Empire, with the messy hair? He’s got like some weird tattoos. I think one’s the devil-“

“It’s a horned demon from a board game.” You say softly, trying not to show how offended you feel.

“Yeah but, I don’t know. Just saying you’re not like them. At all.”

You stir your milkshake with the straw, forcing a tight smile as your stomach twists uncomfortably. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jessie leans back in his side of the booth, completely oblivious to your growing irritation. "I mean you're normal. You know, you don't go overboard with all that creepy goth stuff. You've got style, but you're not like... a freak." He laughs like he's made some kind of joke, but the sound grates against your nerves.

Freaks. What they called you and your friends in school. Years later and now on this date it all feels the same. So infuriating.

You put your milkshake down, suddenly finding it hard to look at him. "You know, some of us freaks actually like that 'creepy goth stuff," you say, trying to keep your tone light, though the edge in your voice betrays you.

Jessie raises an eyebrow. "Oh, come on. You know I didn't mean you. You're cool. But those people? They're just... weird. It's not normal."

You sit back on your end this time and cross your arms. “Define normal, Jessie. Because I'm pretty sure painting your face and having tattoos doesn't make someone less of a person."

He looks genuinely baffled, like he has no idea why you're upset. "I don't know, it's just... people like that are trying too hard, you know? Like they want attention or something. But not you, you're different."

"Sure," you say, your voice colder now. "I'm different because I tone it down for people like you, right?"

Jessie stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What? No! I just meant you're not... extreme like them."

You sigh and rub your temple. “Jessie I.. I should go.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Those freaks are my friends. The people I love and consider family. And i’m not gonna sit here and let you badmouth us because you can’t accept that not everyone is a conventional as little perfect Jessie.”

You slap a ten on the table for your meal and stand, walking away before he could say anything else. Assholes like Jessie and Larry get away with everything and you’ve had enough. You just wanted comfort. Someone who got you, someone who would never judge you, never disappoint you.

You think of the one person who’s always been there. Inserting a coin into the phone booth you call him.

~~~~~

“What a dick.” Eddie says, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his cigarette as he drives you in his van.

“It’s okay. Just.. glad that’s over.”

Eddie smirks. He figures you could use a laugh. “You know.. when he picked you up, we were being nice but the second he pulled of Robin thought it was a good idea to play Jessie’s Girl on the speakers.”

You laugh. “Oh i’m gonna kill her.”

“Kill Steve, he was really into it.” He chuckles and starts to dance. “He hit us with this move.” He wiggles his hips in his seat and shakes his shoulders.

You laugh. “You know what, you guys are so not funny.”

He smiles. “Sorry, princess. Can’t help but to tease you for going on a date with that goofball.”

"Yeah, yeah," you reply, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your grin. "You're all comedians. Real original."

Eddie chuckles again, flicking the ash from his cigarette out the window. "I mean come on princess, you can do better."

You lean back in your seat, crossing your arms "Oh, and who exactly should I be going out with? Got any suggestions, Munson?"

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his smirk faltering just for a moment before returning full force. "I don't know, maybe someone who won't make Robin crank up Rick Springfield to cope."

You laugh again, shaking your head. "That's a pretty low bar."

"Exactly," he says, flashing you a cheeky grin.

"You deserve a guy who actually likes what you like. Someone cool. Someone, dare I say… metal." He emphasizes the word with a dramatic air guitar move, almost swerving the van in the process.

"Jesus, Eddie! Watch the road!" you yell, clutching the door for support.

He laughs, straightening the wheel. "Relax, princess. I got it under control. Besides, you're safe with me."

You give him a skeptical look, but his words linger in the air longer than you expected. Safe. Judgement free, laughing, smiling, safe with Eddie. There's something about the way he says it so casually but full of weight that makes your stomach flutter.

You clear your throat, looking out the window to avoid his gaze. "Well, maybe next time you can pick my date. Since you're such an expert on who I should be with."

He grins but doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes another drag of his cigarette, the soft glow of it illuminating his face from the night sky. "Maybe I will," he says finally, his tone teasing but with a silent edge you can't quite place.

You glance at him and raise a brow. "I'm not sure if I should be terrified or intrigued."

Eddie smirks, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music playing softly from the radio. "A little bit of both, princess. Keeps things interesting."

You shake your head, fighting the smile creeping onto your lips. "You're impossible."

"I prefer the term eccentric," he shoots back, flashing you another grin.

You smile, enjoying the ride and the music and Eddie. It’s how things have always been. How things should always be. Forget the shitty date and the corporate assholes that have been ruining your month. This moment here with Eddie is all you need to keep going.

taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914

[losers-clvb]

i love you, i'm sorry pt. 2 // sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x bobby's daughter!reader

summary: a teenaged sam left you broken. now he's back and you're not sure what to do.

content: angst, swearing, reader is bobby's daughter, big brother dean is back again, reader is tempted to shoot sam, some slight miscommunication, fluff, smut, fingering, shower sex, unprotected piv penetration, some dirty talk from sam to reader, bobby being a classic dad

word count: 6.9k

note: this is the second part, so if you haven't read the first, i would recommend doing so!

masterlist part one

----

A heavy silence made the shopping trip and ride back home hard. Sam didn’t try to talk to you again. He couldn’t handle hearing how much more you hated him. Now, the three men and you sat at the table, much like you had that morning. You picked at your plate, not feeling hungry after the intense emotions of the day. Dean looked between you and Sam suspiciously. He could tell something had happened. He wanted to ask, but knew that Bobby knew nothing of the situation.

Dinner was quiet. It was nothing like the meals of the past that had been filled with laughter and hidden glances. Bobby attempted to start a conversation when asking what you had planned for the next day. This had been met with some bullshit response about cleaning the kitchen and it was back to the quiet again. Sam was the first to excuse himself. He claimed he was tired. You rolled your eyes. If anyone was tired, it should be you. It had been exhausting to watch out of the corner of your eye for someone who seemed to be trying to chase you down.

Next was Bobby with the same reasoning as Sam. You let this one slide past without annoyance. He was your dad. That left you and Dean. You could sense the questions bubbling in him. You didn’t want to answer them. Not when you could feel some leftover sadness trying to unbury itself inside you. You stood and took care of what remained of dinner. Dean followed you.

“What happened?” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking what he was asking about. You placed a bowl into the refrigerator.

“He wanted a normal life. Apparently I didn’t fit into his plans.” You were completely guessing on the last part. You assumed that was why you had been abandoned, but you had no confirmation of this.

“He said that?” Dean didn’t believe that for one second. He had known about Sam’s feelings for you before Sam did. Once his younger brother had discovered the wanting for you, it was all he would hear about. “Did you see what she wore today?” or “She’s so beautiful” or even the occasional “I think I’m in love with her”. There wasn't a universe in which Sam would ever stop loving you.

“Basically.” You scraped a plate over the trash. Dean watched as you filled a sink with warm, soapy water before taking a spot beside you to help with the cleaning. You both worked in silence, you washing the dishes and Dean rinsing them. You sighed and leaned into him while they air dried on a towel next to the sink. He stood strong as you did so, watching the water drain. He knew you were tired, knew you had been tired since the moment you woke up. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Dean spoke with his voice just barely above a whisper. You let him guide you up the stairs and tuck you in. The last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep was the click of your door closing.

----

Dean closed the door to your room and turned around, ready to go to his own bedroom. When he turned around, however, he was met with his younger brother. Sam looked at him with those puppy dog eyes he pulled out whenever he wanted something. Dean raised an eyebrow before moving past him, not entirely sure if he wanted to have a conversation with Sam after hearing what you told him.

“What?” Dean asked when he felt Sam follow him. He entered his room and began to ready himself for the night, a short routine.

“What did she tell you?” Sam asked while standing in the doorway. He could tell something was off. You had said something, maybe the truth, maybe not, it didn’t matter. The only thing he needed to know is if you truly did hate him.

“Enough.” Dean answered, irritation bubbling in him. Growing up with you he had always hated when you were hurting. Whether it be school bullies, disappointment from spilled milk, a skinned knee, Dean was always happy to clean up the mess. It was the same way he was with Sam, which made for quite the mental argument for himself in this situation. On one hand, Sam was his brother and he was, from the moment Sam had been born, supposed to take care of him for all his life. On the other hand, you were Bobby’s only child, practically a sister to him, someone who always made sure he had something to eat.

Sam sighed in frustration at Dean’s answer. He didn’t have time for this.

“Just tell me what she said.” Sam demanded. He wasn’t angry. It was the guilt eating away at him constantly since he had set his eyes on your familiar face again. He knew he had his reasons for leaving, very valid reasons, but he could never come up with a decent enough excuse for leaving you in the dark. He knew you would have talked with Dean about the situation in some capacity. He also knew that Dean, whether from you telling him or him just figuring it out on his own, knew something was going on between you and Sam.

“She told me that you’re a dick who treated her like some chick you met at the bar.” Dean rounded on Sam, keeping his voice low to not alert the others in the house. The glare he had sent Sam softened when he saw how his younger brother’s face fell.

“She hates me.” Sam said mostly to himself. He collapsed onto the bed with his head in his hands. Dean took a seat beside him, feeling his own guilt for blowing up on his brother.

“What did you do, Sammy?” Dean asked. He had already heard what you had to say but he wanted to hear Sam’s side of it all. He knew better than anyone that anger and heartbreak could make a person say things they didn’t mean. Sam looked up before speaking.

“I loved-,” Sam flinched and corrected himself, “love her. I love her.” He needed to repeat it, just for himself to hear.

“When I… left, I messed things up. Every single night all I wanted to do was call and hear her voice.” Sam was finding it hard to say the words out loud. It was the first time he had vocalized the whole situation.

“So why didn’t you?” Dean was thinking the whole thing was stupid. If you were in love with someone you never let them go. Of course, that advice applied to everyone but him.

“I couldn’t, Dean. Everytime I thought about it, something stopped me from doing it.” Sam sighed, hating himself already for how he handled things. Dean didn’t know what to say. He could tell Sam hadn’t wanted to hurt you, but that didn’t mean everything was fine. You were hurting, bad, even if you claimed to only be angry.

“Did you tell her this?” Dean asked. He already knew the answer. Sam hadn’t told you, or if he did, he had said it in a way that distracted you from what the words really meant.

“Not in all those words.” Sam mumbled, feeling embarrassed from how he had reacted to you earlier. Dean rolled his eyes. God, you and Sam were practically the same person. No one wanting to admit what was said.

“Well in what words then?”

“When she, um, when she yelled at me, I yelled back.” Sam avoided Dean’s eyes. Dean sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He was starting to get a headache from all of this.

“You need to tell her. You need to tell her everything.” Dean looked at his brother. Sam nodded.

“I know.” Sam replied. Dean clapped a hand onto Sam’s shoulder and gave him a sarcastic smile.

“Then get out so I can sleep.” With that, Sam left the room. He wasn’t sure if he should find you now or wait until morning. He decided quickly that this couldn’t wait, he needed to see you now. He walked to your door, much like he had the night before. This time when his knock was met with silence, he opened the door to see you in a deep sleep. He sighed, knowing he didn’t want to wake you. In your sleep you looked closer to the girl he had left behind: peaceful and angerless. He swallowed and left your room to go to his own for the night.

----

This time when you woke up, it was the middle of the night. You glanced at the alarm clock by your bed.

3:00 AM

Perfect. Another sleepless night. It was useless to try to sleep again. Your mind was awake. It hadn't helped that you had been dreaming before you woke up. Dreaming of Sam. Of him holding you, kissing you, loving you and never leaving. It was painful when you looked back on it. Maybe you didn't hate him like you said you did.

You sat up in bed. How could you pass the time? Some fresh air might be helpful, the night only slightly chilly this time of year. You pulled yourself out of bed. After grabbing a zip up hoodie, you stared at your bedside table where a gun was stored in the top drawer. It was true that you weren't a hunter, not physically anyways. You were more inclined to research and find the cases. Bobby hadn't wanted you out there risking your life, but he also didn't want you sneaking around with some other hunter. So, he had given you the option and you had chosen to simply learn the basics. He taught you how to shoot, how to salt the windows and doorways, how to punch. You know, the father-daughter time every family experiences.

You made the decision to grab the gun, just in case. Town was pretty safe but you didn't want to risk anything. You tucked it into your pocket, safety on, and made the journey to the back porch. Once there, you shut the door behind you and took a seat on the steps leading to the yard. The sky was clear and you could see the stars twinkling back at you. The moon, not quite full but almost there, shone a yellow-white light. You were content just sitting there with nothing but your thoughts and the crickets chirping in the grass.

You needed to think about how you truly felt about Sam. The stubborn part of you insisted that you hated him, that you wanted nothing but to never see him again. When you pushed past that, you knew that you truly did love him. You always would. It was as if it was chosen for you far before you were born. You wanted him in your life forever.

But there was another thing living inside you. Doubt. You were scared that even if you did let yourself love Sam again that he would leave you again. What if he found another way for a normal life, a way that didn't involve you? What if he left you again, this time for good?

A noise broke you out of your thoughts. You felt a presence behind you. In one swift movement, you had your gun pressed against the intruder's chest. You looked up at Sam with wild eyes, but he could see the fear in them. That fear morphed into sadness then a wall of anger came to defend you. You didn't move the gun.

“Are you going to shoot me?” Sam asked with a nervous laugh when you didn't seem to move away. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Maybe.” You replied, still standing in the same way. You flexed your jaw before speaking again.

“What do you want?” You knew he had gone out for you. He had been trying to get you to talk to him again after the fight in the car, but you had continued on with your mission to ignore him.

“I want to talk.” Sam repeated his words from earlier. When you still didn't move the gun from him, he slowly moved his hands to cup around yours and the gun. You let him, only flinching slightly when he made contact. Moving together, your hand was lowered and he carefully coaxed the weapon from you, placing it on the porch near the steps. The whole thing happened without you and Sam breaking eye contact.

“Please.” Sam pleaded with you. After a moment you nodded and reclaimed your former spot on the step. Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and joined you, leaving only a foot of space between your bodies. You looked out to the yard as you waited for him to speak.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I've ever done to hurt you. Including today, including back then, and even including that time I pushed you when we were kids.” Sam blurted the words out. You smiled at the last memory, remembering how a ten year old Sam had jokingly pushed you into a lake without knowing you couldn't swim. He had been the one to jump in after you, but it still brought on an embarrassing guilt to him that you always felt when you did something wrong as a child. You still didn't look at him. You were afraid that you would cry if you did.

“I messed up. I should have called or… I don't know, done anything other than what I did. I thought about you every single night. I really did.” Sam continued on. You kept your eyes on an ant hill that you had spotted.

“Then why didn't you?” You asked in a small voice.

“Every time I picked up the phone, something in me wouldn't allow your number to be dialed. I was scared of ending up like my father. Of losing you like he lost my mother and turning into him. I thought I wanted a normal life, but I think all I really want is you.” Sam reached a hand over to softly grasp yours. You allowed this, which sparked hope in Sam.

“I love you.” Sam's words made you turn your head to look at him. Sure, he had said them before, but teenagers said things they didn't mean all the time. You could see it now that Sam meant them with every fiber of his being.

“I love you so much. I always have and I always will. Nothing could ever take that away. You don't have to feel the same, you can hate me forever, but I will always look for you in everything.” The declaration of love made your stomach erupt in a tornado of butterflies. Your eyes watered at the emotion you were feeling and you looked away from Sam as a tear fell. Sam's expression turned to panic as he realized what was happening. He rushed to close the space between you and pulled you into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he said into your hair, trying to get your attention to stop your crying. His care of you only increased the tears. These weren't like the ones you shed back in high school. These were happy, relieved tears. Tears that were brought on when you felt that overwhelming love and comfort from Sam.

“What's wrong?” Sam asked, his hold on you tightening in a way that he knew calmed you. He had only seen you have a panic attack once, when everything had just piled on way too much, but he remembered how you seemed to calm from the pressure. You did the same now, but the tears kept rolling.

“I've waited so long to hear you say that again.” Was your only response. It broke Sam's heart when he saw what his actions had actually caused. This wasn't the anger you used to keep from him, or the lack of attention you had been showing him that week. This was heartbreak, grief from the loss of someone you had never imagined loosing. But with his words came the first aid kit that your heart needed to mend itself. It pushed the defense strategies away and left only the pure emotion of love.

You tilted your head up to his. Tears still rolled down your cheeks, but they were slowing. You hesitated at first, but in the end, Sam felt your lips on his. It was baffling the way you two fit together so perfectly. The kiss wasn't lustful, but that didn't mean it lacked passion. No, this kiss was full of the passion that Sam felt when he held you in his arms and knew, from that moment on, he would never let you go again.

----

That morning - only a few hours after you and Sam had kissed -, you were wrapped up in Sam's arms. You both were sleeping in your room, in your bed. Everyone's clothes had stayed on through the night despite what someone may have assumed if they caught the two of you. No, after the kiss, it was apparent you and the Winchester needed sleep. It just so happened that when it came time for you to split off to your separate rooms, no one wanted to let go. So, here you were now: you cuddled into Sam's side and Sam, who looked oddly out of place in your nest of pink blankets, holding you while you slept. He had been awake for around half an hour but hadn't wanted to disrupt your sleep. He lay there, rubbing his thumb across your skin soothingly and watching the way you quietly snored into his chest. You were his again, all his, and in the morning light he knew his earlier thought of never letting you go would be his sole purpose in life.

Your nose scrunched as you woke. You opened your eyes to see Sam looking back at you. You smiled to him, a gesture that he returned.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You asked, your voice only slightly above a whisper. Sam craned his neck to place a kiss on your lips.

“Just thinking to myself how lucky I am that I get to wake up to this.” Sam mumbled into you. You wiggled your body up so that your faces were level with each other, smiling sweetly. You felt like a teenager again, feeling like nothing mattered other than the person you were with. Sam's hands fell to your hips.

The kiss was growing deeper, more passionate. Your own hands found their home on the back of Sam's neck. Your mouths moved in sync and you felt the need crawl up into you. You ground your hips into him, resulting in a groan from Sam. His hands traveled from your hips, up to your waist, moving under your shirt. He lifted the fabric up and over your head, exposing the top half of your body to the morning light. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before moving down to your breasts. He cupped one in his hands and kissed the other, eyeing the necklace he had given you for your birthday that lay in between the mounds. You closed your eyes as he kneaded the soft skin. Your hands tangled in his hair.

“Sam,” you breathed out, almost against your will. His response was to move his free hand down, dipping past the waistband of your pajamas. He felt the arousal leaking from you and smirked to himself.

“All of this for me, pretty girl?” He mumbled against your skin. He rubbed circles on your clit with two fingers.

“Of,” you began, but hissed in pleasure when he began to touch you, “of course.” You finished your sentence just as Sam pushed the two fingers into you. You bit down on your bottom lip to keep a loud moan from escaping. Sam moved his fingers in and out of you, occasionally nipping at the skin on your chest. You rolled your hips into him, desperate for release.

You were doing a pretty good job of keeping the noises at a low volume until Sam started to use his thumb to rub circles onto your clit while he pumped his fingers into you. A loud whimper erupted from your lips. Sam's hand that held your breast shot to cover your mouth, something you were grateful for. While Sam loved hearing the effect he had on you, he knew that he could risk drawing attention to your room. Between Dean and Bobby roaming the house, there was no way he could let you be as loud as he wanted.

Sam felt you tighten around his fingers as your orgasm grew closer. This only encouraged him further. It was a sight, the two of you intertwined in each other. Your hands in his hair, his hands in their respective places on your mouth and hidden in your pants. A final moan from you vibrated against Sam as your body tingled in the intense pleasure of your release. Sam helped you through it, only pulling his fingers out of you once your body relaxed.

You pulled your fingers from Sam's hair. Sam stayed where he was, opting to lay his head on your naked chest instead of returning to his place next to you.

“I missed you.” You said to him. You meant it in every way, not just from the revelation over the years that no one would be able to touch you in the way that Sam did. His chuckle shook both of your bodies and he looked up at you.

“You missed me?” He repeated your words in a questioning tone, an air of suggestive teasing sparkling across his eyes. You rolled your own eyes at him and looked away, leaving him unanswered.

“Let's get you cleaned up.” Sam offered before pulling you up with him.

----

It had turned out Dean and Bobby left to go into town for supplies for a project you had no interest in remembering about. This information came from a note that was taped to your door. It was perfect, just the thing you and Sam needed after your eventful morning. You both slipped into the bathroom. Under the excuse of ‘saving time’, it was decided that the pair of you would shower together.

With the shower running to heat the water, you and Sam stripped. It had been a while since the two of you had been completely naked in front of each other. Sam had grown from that awkward, lanky boy into a filled out man. Your eyes raked over his body, tempted to ask for a round two. Sam ran his tongue across his lips at the sight of you. You were so beautiful, that's all he could think as he followed you into the shower and pulled the curtain closed.

Sam let you stand under the water first. He watched while you wet your hair with closed eyes. When you opened your eyes to see him, it was your turn to smirk. You beckoned him to you with a finger. It took no hesitation for him to rush to you, taking you into his arms. You squealed out a giggle when he crashed his lips into yours. You knew then that this shower was about to last a lot longer than expected.

Sam bit down on your lip, not harsh enough to draw blood but still enough to make you gasp. You felt yourself be lifted up. Your back was against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around Sam's waist as he pushed himself into you. You groaned at how he filled you, causing Sam to pause in alarm.

“Move. Please.” You broke the kiss to pant out. Sam responded by reclaimed your lips and moving his hips steadily. You moaned into him as he found the perfect angle and pace to fuck you in.

“So perfect, baby, the best fucking pussy I've ever had.” Sam muttered as his hips slammed against yours. His voice made the butterflies in your stomach flutter to life. When you clenched around him, he moaned.

“God, you do that again and it'll make this the quickest I've ever come.” Sam's fingers dug into the soft of your hips. The back and forth pressure of his pubic bone on your clit as just enough to send you into overdrive.

“Sam,” you mumbled. This only made him speed up his movements.

“Say my name, baby.” Sam rested his head on the wall next to yours as he pounded into you.

“Sam, S-Sam, Sam,” you repeated his name over and over, feeling yourself growing closer to your second orgasm of the day. Sam felt his own coming onto him and the sound of his name on your tongue helped him keep you both upright through the pleasure.

It dawned on you then that even with how many times Sam had told you he loved you through the night, you had never responded with the same words. You weren't scared to say them, not anymore.

“I love you, Sam. I,” you swallowed when he angled his hips just slightly more upright to drive into just the right spot, “oh my god, I love you so much.”

That was Sam's undoing, hearing you say those words to him. When you felt him spill into you, it brought on your own release. His pace slowed, turning sloppy. When he stopped, still sheathed inside you, you placed a kiss behind his ear. As you both tried to catch your breath, the sound of the bathroom door opening was drowned out by the stream of the shower. It wasn't until Dean called your name that his presence was known to you. Sam whipped his head up, holding his breath. You tensed and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Yeah?” You answered, praying to God or whatever greater force there was that he would leave the room quickly.

“I've just gotta grab something quick, don't come out.” Dean spoke loud enough for you to hear. He looked for the item, his wallet that he had left on the counter by the sink. The clothes on the floor caught his eye on his way out. There were yours, as expected, but the black long sleeve piled on a pair of sweatpants were, without a doubt, not belonging to you. He knew instantly who they had come off of and smirked playfully to himself. He knew Bobby was still outside, which was for the best. The old man would probably have a heart attack if he found out his little girl had been defiled in their shower.

“Have a good morning, Sam?” Dean asked cheekily. Sam hung his head low and breathed out in embarrassment. You hummed out a sound, disappointed in the fact you had been caught.

“Uh… yeah.” Sam replied sheepishly, clearing his throat. Dean laughed at the obvious discomfort from his brother.

“Bobby's outside, we've gotta run out again, but we'll be back soon. You jackrabbits better be decent before then.” Those were Dean's final parting words before the bathroom door was swung shut, leaving you and Sam to stare at each other. You burst out a laugh, the interaction suddenly seeming not as terrifying as you had imagined.

“He knows?” You asked Sam, assuming Dean already had some kind of prior knowledge that Sam would try to make up with you.

“He knows.” Sam nodded, his own face breaking out in a smile. He pulled out of you and guided you into a standing position. The water was lukewarm, the hot water steadily running low. You both finished showering, taking turns washing each other's backs. Sam had ended up using your shampoo, making him smell like a flower rather than the musky scent he usually wore.

Once finished, you gathered up two towels, handing one to Sam. Sam wrapped his around his waist while you let yours envelope your body. Your twin morning routines were performed together, brushing your teeth side by side, you patting moisturizer into your face while Sam watched. Your paths split off when you went to your room to get dressed and Sam entered his own to do the same.

----

You and Sam were in the kitchen when the other men arrived home. You were prepping for dinner, even with it being hours away. You had Sam chopping onions while you added spices to the chicken in the glass pan. Bobby walked over to you, bags in hand, and looked into the pan.

“Finally awake?” He asked. He had gotten up before you and hadn't seen you all morning, which was unusual. “We missed ya at breakfast.”

“Had a long night, Dad.” You replied and let Sam reach around you to pour the diced onions into the dish. You wanted to kiss him, but knew you needed to have a talk with your father before any PDA ensued. Dean scoffed at your words, a smirk coming across his face.

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean chimed in, which earned him glares from you and Sam. Bobby, seemingly oblivious to the suggestive tone in his voice, chuckled at your response.

“One of them books keepin’ ya up again?” Bobby offered, giving you the perfect excuse. You had complained a few times before of the exhaustion you had felt after staying up reading all night. You were a frequent flyer at the local library, often times spending a day there reading or talking quietly with the librarians.

“Yep.” You smiled out and washed your hands before covering the glass pan with aluminum foil. You placed it in the refrigerator to let the chicken marinate before you would cook it later that night.

Bobby and Dean excused themselves from the room, muttering something about patching up some siding on the house. Ah. That was right. There had been some animal getting at the side of the house, causing some of the siding to get pulled up out of place. You hummed out a ‘see you later’ as they left to the outside, leaving you and Sam alone again.

----

His lips were on you again. It had started out innocent enough, just a small peck once you were sure it was just you and Sam. It was when he kissed you back with that same need from earlier when it escalated. Now, he had you sitting on the counter with him standing between your legs while your lips moved against each other's. You rested your hands on Sam's sides under his shirt, brushing your thumbs across his ribs. It was dangerous, being so close out in the open. Even more dangerous when Sam pulled you body closer to him so there was no space between.

You hummed into him when you felt his fingertips on your spine. All you felt was Sam. His skin, his warmth, his love. All of it. The rest of the world was nothing when you had him with you. Maybe someone else would think you were moving too fast, doing too much for just having reconnected with a lost love. You just figured you were making up for lost time. Plus, it’s not like anyone would be losing their clothes. Not in the kitchen anyways. You pulled away from Sam and could have sworn a small whine vibrated in his throat.

“Upstairs.” You whispered, not because you were afraid of anyone overhearing, you just didn’t want to break the heat of the moment. Sam took hold of your lips again, needing to kiss you before any relocating occurred. Just as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, you heard the voice of the last person in the world you wanted to see in that moment.

“What in the Sam Hill!” Bobby’s voice cut right through the tension in the room. You ripped away from Sam, your wide eyes settling on your father. Bobby’s face was a mixture of shock and anger. Shock that you were wrapped up in the same boy that, as far as he knew, you hadn’t said more than three words to since his arrival, and anger at the sight of his daughter, his one and only baby girl, being in such a position. He wasn’t mad at you. No, he could never feel anger towards you. He was mad at the man that still had his hands under your shirt. Dean came into view behind Bobby, his pleasant expression dropping when he was able to see what Bobby was seeing.

“What the hell are you doing to my little girl, Samuel?!” Bobby exclaimed out, shaking you from your paralyzed state. You scrambled off the counter after Sam took a few steps backwards and away from you. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you dashed to your room. It wasn’t until you slammed your door shut that you remembered you had practically left Sam to the wolves downstairs. You were tempted to go back down there when you heard your father yelling out questions to Sam, but the sound of Dean defending his brother told you he was fine. You turned to sit on your bed and pulled your knees to your chest.

Why? Why had he decided to walk in at that time? It’s not like you were going to hide the relationship forever. You weren’t an immature teen anymore. You just needed to have that talk with Bobby first before anything. You had never brought home a boy, not that there were any boys other than Sam to bring home. He had been your first everything. First crush, first kiss, first boyfriend, first sexual partner. You had been flirted with since he left by a handful of people. First it had been your senior year lab partner, then the waiter at a diner in town, then some guy at the library, and there had been that one new hire in the police department that had dared to come up to you in front of Bobby. You had deemed none of them good enough to fill the hole Sam had left in you.

This had to have been the biggest shock of Bobby’s life. You chewed on the inside of your cheek while listening to the volume downstairs slowly decrease with every word. You knew your father would come around to the idea of you and Sam, but the guilt of him having to find out like this had you questioning why you had waited. You knew, though, that you wanted to sit him down in the evening when everything died down and he had finished his day. Maybe you should have just done it when he first came home.

The sound of your door opening broke you from your thoughts. You turned your head to the door to view the visitor. Your eyes fell to the floor when you saw it was Bobby entering with a weary smile. You refused to look up at him, even when you felt the mattress dip down with his weight on it. No one said anything for a minute, which felt like it lasted eons. Finally, your voice broke the silence.

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice cracked towards the end of the question, fearing he was disappointed in you. Bobby placed a hand on yours, where it was holding your shoulder. You looked at him then. The expression on his face, one of fatherly love and adoration, calmed your nerves instantly.

“I ain’t mad.” Bobby answered, shaking his head. You breathed out in relief, but knew that wasn’t the end of the conversation.

“Sam? Really? That punk idjit?” Bobby questioned. You laughed weakly, knowing Bobby loved Sam as much as you did.

“I’ve always loved him.” You let your body relax and stretched your legs out on the bed. Bobby didn’t look shocked to hear this and you wondered if Sam had said the same. You wished you knew what Sam had said to him, if only to make it easier to steer the conversation in a productive direction.

“I figured as much.” Bobby sighed out. It was then you decided to just come clean about it all. You would leave out that morning, both in your bed and in the shower, obviously. You moved closer to him, making it so that you were sitting directly next to him.

“This all started on my birthday, my sixteenth.” You began, making Bobby furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait, you lot kept this from me for five years?” He questioned you with raised eyebrows.

“No, no.” You took in a breath before continuing, praying you weren’t going to make anything worse. “When Sam left for college, he, um…” You didn’t want to say the words out loud to your father. Bobby wasn’t dumb. He put it together in his mind and his jaw set in irritation.

“He ignored ya.” Bobby’s voice was firm. He remembered that time, that chunk of months when you moped around the house like a kicked puppy. He didn’t know what had happened and you didn’t tell him. He hadn’t known why back then, but now it all made sense. He should have seen that you just so happened to dull down after the call from Dean that Sam was gone. It all made sense now. He was going to kill that kid.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know how to continue. After a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat.

“Please don’t be mad at him. Please. It was my mess to handle, and everything worked out. Everything’s fine now.” Your voice held a begging tone.

“I hope you gave him hell, darlin'.” Bobby was gruff with his words. You let out another weak laugh, remembering how you had made Sam pay for his actions.

“I almost shot him.” It was Bobby’s turn to laugh.

“Good, good.” Bobby nodded his head in approval. That was his girl. With the information he was given, Bobby still had one more question. He turned to you, face screwed up in pure curious disgust.

“On the counter?” Bobby’s question made you wince. You were quick to shake your head in defense.

“We were only kissing, Dad. It won’t happen again.” You promised him, which earned you a grateful nod. Silence fell over you two again. Bobby hesitated before saying his next words.

“You’re grown, I know that. I also know grown ups involve themselves in…” he chose his next word carefully, “situations.” You knew exactly where he was going with this. The Talk. He had never given it to you. He didn’t think he had a reason to, but he assumed now would be when you really needed it. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Stop!” You blurted out, not wanting to hear another word he had to say on the topic. Bobby appreciated the escape from the conversation, but was still worried for you. He opened his mouth to ask if you knew everything - even though you were twenty one, which was far old enough to know at least the basics - but you stopped him.

“Mrs. Turner gave me the talk when she caught me and Sam the first time.” The sentence spilled out before you had a chance to think about them all. You cringed when Bobby’s mouth fell open in shock.

“The first time?!” Bobby then thought about the first part of your sentence. Mrs. Turner had been your neighbor growing up. Unfortunately for you, she wasn’t anymore. “Mrs. Turner died when you were sixteen.” Bobby recalled.

“It was a few months before that.” You admitted. “I guess we sent her to her grave?” You added with a sheepish smile in an attempt to lessen the blow the information would give your father. Bobby’s hand found a home over his heart as if he was calming himself.

“Oh Lord.” He muttered out.

----

It was the end of dinner time now. The scent of cooked chicken still wafted through the air as you and Sam cleaned up the table. After your talk with Bobby, you had rejoined Sam and Dean downstairs, where they waited in the living room. You didn’t have to hide your love for Sam anymore, much to the dismay of Dean and Bobby everytime you chose to place an innocent kiss on Sam. They were happy for you both, but kind of missed when the PDA was nonexistent.

You handed Sam a rag to wipe the table down with and carried a stack of bowls to the sink. You felt arms wrap around you while the sink filled with the soapy water. Sam would be helping you with dishes tonight. Unlike the help Dean had given you, this night would be filled with Sam standing as close to you as possible. Sam stretched his neck down and around to kiss your lips. You tasted of the strawberry pie you had made for dessert.

“I love you.” Sam told you, his hold unwavering when you reached to turn the faucet off. You smiled and licked your lips.

“I love you too.” You responded and gave him one last kiss before grabbing a sponge.

[keelt9]

Episode 1

Masterlist

A/N: I’ll take back an old way I used to write why? It just came out and I like it, so I’ll see if it works out, if I don't, I’ll go back to the normal post. 

Two POV in two diffent post. :p

I will keep an eye this week. 👀

I must have a lot of credit for this, come on. I have a bag on my back, another across my body and the half of a sandwich on my right hand as I keep talking with my dad going upstairs for 6 floors.

“Dad, I'm pretty sure I packed everything, calm down!” It’s the end of the long weekend and after spending all the time in the country state of my parents, my duties set my time to go back.

“Sure? There is a white bag, I’m pretty sure you don’t.” I picture my dad lifting that bag with suspicious eyes. 

Finally, 26, my door is in front of me. “That’s Ford’s bag.” I stay standing on the door trying to find a way to take out my keys but it’s impossible. “Listen dad, I have to go or I will be standing out of my house until I, useless try to convince you.”

“All right, I’m glad you’re at home.” I take the last bite of my sandwich. “I love you.” 

I replied with the same 3 words when the door opened, not magical, on the other side Nash is holding the door choke head looking at me with a funny face. 

“Oh, I love you too.” I pushed him to enter the apartment, tired with sore shoulders, and an increasing pain on my ribs.

Nash giggles helping me to take my bags from my body, looking at my sandwich scrunching his face. 

“Don’t do that, it’s the only thing I found open.” I took the last bite before he could do something evil.

Our apartment is quite big, with huge crystal windows, soft yellow walls and creamy furniture.

“I told you I don't mind going and picking you up.” Nash walks back to the kitchen where you can smell the scent of coffee, butter and other scents I couldn't distinguish.

I followed him after taking out my present for him.

“Happy late birthday.” I extended a special package of cacao and chocolate from my father’s personal collection. 

Nash smiles, taking the box of my hands giving me a big hug. 

“This from…” I sat in the stoll massage my wrists, as I nod. “Can I?

Nash asked if that box could be mine. “Nash, it’s all yours, make worthy I carried with this all the way here.”

Nash giggles opening the box, the smell of cocoa and chocolate quickly flowing all over our apartment, as he takes one bar as if it's a gold one. He takes the cover, the smell intensifies and by the time he bites it I bet his mind is cloudy with the taste of it.

“OMG! This is, this is great!” He searched inside of the box for the cocoa powder. “In the mood for a dessert?”

One and a half hours later and after unpacking most of my things Nash knocked on my door telling me he already made chocolate cake, my favorite.

“I almost forgot.” Nash stands from the living room and brings back mail.

The logotype speaks for itself, the sketch of a spine as a soft green line mix between every vertebra. 

“Yeah, I got this one at home.” I just see it immediately putting it aside for throwing in the trash as soon as I get up.

“At least you try to open it.” Nash claims with a decided tone. 

I shake my head, standing to leave my plate in the washdisher. “It’s on my email, too.” I see the mail before closing the trash bin.

“That’s… There isn't any guarantee you’ll read it.” Nash reminds sit playing with his spoon. “Maybe it’s a…”

“I have been heartbroken once, twice will tear me apart.” Even though I fight to keep a cheerful tone, Nash turns around ready to say something else but he stops it. “I’m fine, Nash.”

The atmosphere is tense like every time he tries to speak with me about the same, I appreciate the effort to change my mind, even both of us know the smile on my face is 99.9% fake.

“I’ll go to sleep.” Nash fakes a smile in a press lips before I go right to my room. “Goodnight.”

Every tear that threatened to come out as always I wiped away from my eyes, focusing on the happy memories.

College, when winter vacation is closer, turns into a massive crowd of people walking side to side of the campus, stressed and with barely two hours of sleep due the finals but hoping winter holidays came fast, in a blink of an eye if we can choose.

“So?” Nash asked me for the third time, he’s expecting the most impartial judge.

“I’m not a fish fan, you know?” The dish with a carpaccio in front of me is giving me chills. 

“I know, but come on Y/N my exam is tomorrow and this must be nearly perfect.” He laid back his head. “Please.”

The fact that Nash it’s in the last semesters before becoming a graduate chef is a blessing but at the same time with such peculiar dishes….a curse. 

I glup, taking the fork. “All for the friendship.” 

Nash smiles while waiting with big eyes. I take a bite praying my mind doesn't bring the smell of fish right away. 

And it won’t after I swallow it, the taste is good, if I’ll be impartial, I probably said it’s delicious.

“Tasty.” Nash bumps his fist with me, both of us know it’s like he just got an out loud yummy.

The doorbell saves me from what he could said, I must have to take a second bite; Nash runs to open the door. “OMG, I see double.”

Ford just arrived, he is my twin brother. Even though we love each other till death, we both know living together while we’re in college would be a mess. So my parents searched for two apartments for us just a couple of blocks away. 

Far but close for we can be with each other at any minute. 

Our best friends moving with us fit us perfectly, after all it’s like they just paid for one apartment.

“Just in time for the carpaccio.” Ford hates the fish too.

He appears with his backpack on one shoulder and a twisted smile. “I just ate a hamburger, that will be a mess.” 

Nash clicked his tongue, at least he tried; Ford smiled and hugged me before sitting in the stool at my left.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” I said joking with him; it’s been a couple of weeks he’s been dating a girl, the same couple of weeks I just knew about him through texts and phone calls.

“Ha ha ha, I just came for matching outfits.” He leaned down to the plate smelling and immediately took it away.

“This weekend is the day, huh?” Nash said, taking the dish. “I’ll let you talk, I have notes to take.” 

It’s nothing that Nash didn’t know but we know he prefers to keep distance with family disagreements.

I walk to the fridge to get a soda for him. “I’m quivering between a <This is the most stupid decision> dress or <Please wake me from the nightmare>” Ford giggles opening the can. “You?”

He drinks a long sip. “All black code.” 

We arrived at the country state in the first hours of Saturday morning, with a lot of movement around; big trunks taking things out, as the usual day is taking its course. 

“There are my twins.” Aunt Gina appears with a casual outfit and a pile of files on her hand.

Dad didn’t have siblings but our grandfather has a lifetime friendship with Mr. Thompson, the lawyer of the family, who has a daughter, aunt Gina. As time passed they expected some kind of relationship to develop between both of them; I bet they hoped for love but they always looked like brother and sister.

Years passed, things haven't changed at all.

“How are the ribs?” She always asked before hugging me.

“Almost like new.” I said hugging her.

It’s been 8 months since the surgery, even the first weeks of recovery were a pain literally and metaphorically, as months passed the recovery went pretty well.

“These are the cursing contracts.” Ford asked, pointing to the black folders, as he rolled his eyes.

“Yes.” She sighs saying just three letters, it seems like she said a full two hour trial. As us, aunt Gina warned dad about how bad this decision was.

Our trash talking was interrump with mom walking to us, clearly she is coming from the stables, her brown waistcoat speaks for itself.

“You’re coming earlier.” Mom kisses our cheeks, as always, our face between her hands. 

“Need time to get ready.” I point my head. “Mentally.”

Mom smirks, shaking her head. “Well, do it quickly.”

Aunt Gina scoffs walking to her car. “I’ll better go, see you at night.”

“Why?” Both of us asked, looking suspiciously at our mom.

“They’re already here.” She points out where one of the big trucks are leaving, a couple of fancy cars and suvs parking under the shadow of the big trees.

After an endless hour of complaining in the kitchen with Nanny hearing us all the time as we perk in the corridor hearing strange voices and by the windows seeing people struggling for walking in grass with expensive shoes, we finish our breakfast.

“Any pressure huh?” Ford said, taking the last drops of his apple juice. “Bulls…”

Nanny tilts her head; she’s seen us since we were a bump on our mother's body, she knows every little thing, so once Ford starts cursing to shut him down it’s practically impossible.

“Some of them are…nice.” Nanny tried useless to defend something that is indefensible.

I scoff laid back on the chair of the kitchen. “This sponsorship is stupid Nanny and you know that, better than us.”

Years ago, they left my grandfather hanging out after cutting the sponsorship; it were dark years for the family, and the only glimpse of light were coming from them; until one day in the middle of the day a lawyer came to the house announcing they will took in charge of the money but family business is out of the game.

“I’ll go to the stables, if I stay here and keep seeing this kind of thing I’ll go crazy.”

Nanny kisses my head before I stand. “Don’t forget the gloves.” Ford shouted as I walked to my bedroom. “It's cold!”

I grab my jacket, finding dad going upstairs with a smile on his face. “I heard you already here.” 

He grabs my hand, it’s visible his emotions. “We heard that you’re busy.”

Dad giggles. “It’s been years, and they come early, I became a tour guide for a day.” He sees me with my boots on. “To the stables?”

I nod. “Mom said Azabache it’s been kind of grumpy these days.”

“These horses are ready for a bigger challenge, you know?” Dad recognized my negation in my eyes. “We’re still on time, just think about it.”

I kiss his cheek as we hear political laughs under the stairs. “I'd better go before I do something weird” Dad giggles, squeezing my hand.

The house states it’s huge; my dad's family made sure to conserve and expand the fields, after he got married with mom more space became a necessity. Equine therapy needs a lot of space combined with the farming of cacao and the growth of the small business turning a time of crisis into, now, full prosperity.

The stables have 8 horses, 5 for equine therapy and 3 for equestrian, like mom said for my own, or at least she used to say that.

“Y/N, we were expecting you.” Rachel, the vet of the horses said as I got in. She’s in the last steps of their daily checks up. 

I walk closer to Cotton, a 12 year old stud, his name due to his white fur. He lands his head down for I grab his face. “Everything all right?” 

Rachel stands patting the back of Feather, daughter of Cotton and Koa, a light brown mare. “Perfect, just…” She points to the last shed, Azabache room.

“Can I?” Rachel bluffs, making me shy.

“It’s all yours, literally. I’ll be with Pharaoh, if you need anything and I’ll reach you outside?” I nod as she opens the door of Pharaoh, a 8 year old stud, father of Azabache. 

“Y/N, morning.” James her auxiliar get in running with a few supplies. “The little boy, I bet, is waiting for you.”

I smile walking to the last shed where Azabache, the youngest of all of them, is drinking from his water pot until he hears the click of his door, immediately turning around so he can see me.

“Troublemaker, hi.” Azabache breathes while walking closer to me, his dark fur shines with the reflects of the sun. “Let’s take a few minutes for us before everyone joins us.” 

I put on all he needs before taking him out. The other horses looked at us, expecting their time to go out too.

Ford is right, it’s cold and with the winter a couple of weeks away, the nights and mornings used to be colder. We walk to the arena, fence for a combination with wood fences and osier. 

At a distance you can see the cultivation of cacao; if the wind is strong it will give you a soft smell of it. This is where I used to spend hours and hours.

I let Azabache free so he could walk, run or just enjoy the sunlight and the warm day, but he just stuck to my side, so I started to walk around for him to follow me, just hearing each other breathing. 

“I got the mail.” I said to him standing next to the osier. “Again.” 

Azabache pushed me softly with his head. “You know, what happened should teach us a big lesson.” I laid down my head on his, the knot on my throat grew in a blink. 

Azabache sighs. “I took her away from you, I’m so sorry.”

I let a tear run down as Azabazhe stayed still, the grief still fresh like the first day. 

The strong smell of the cacao came so strong with the wind, as it tried to say to us, Cocoa, my lifetime mare, is still with us. Calming us, our troubled hearts.

“What about a small warm up?” I saw an oxer, a couple of bars one behind the other that it’s used for equestrian training. “I knew by dad you’re pretty good with the cross ones, what about getting a level up?”

I grab his reins so we can walk before starting to jump going through the easiest obstacles, slowly. You can see his excitement increase for the way he starts to run leaving me behind. 

15 minutes later he turned around his head before going for the first oxer. I nod, he took his time before finally making a not so clean jump above the oxer, he hit two bars that fell.

Azabache sighs walking slowly to me. “It’s ok, better than your father, for sure.”

Azabache apparently hears something for the way, immediately taps his legs on the arena just like his mother used to do it when she protected me. 

I pat Azabache back, as he relaxes, but he only relaxes when the strange voice comes with a face up in the small hill.

A boy with honey hair appears mumbling some words as keeps looking at his phone. He’s lost.

By the time he raises his eyes in front Azabache is a few inches away for him.

“Shit!” The boy cursed jumping backwards, phone stuck at his chest. 

“Peek a boo.” I whisper, grabbing Azabache and walking back. “Are you lost?”

The boy nods, spinning around trying to find a path. “Very.” He sighs. “Do you know how I can get back to the main house?”

“You’re kind of far away.” He pressed his lips together. “Am…” 

I was thinking the easiest way of coming back is, when Bill, one of the boys who is incharge of the therapies with mom; appears for the same path we take from the stables.  

“Oh, Bill, can you do me a favor?” He nods walking close to the arena and pat Azabache's head. “He’s lost, do you mind taking him to the house through the stables?”

I look at his white shirt. “I’m afraid another way, he will get a stain.” Bill scoffs understanding the irony of the situation. White the worst color to wear around this place. 

“No problem.” The neigh of the other horses prepared us for 7 big horses coming.

The honey boy stares at Azabache who is excited for the arrival of the other horses.

“It’s beautiful, so… deep brown?” I tilt my head, confused for the compliment while Azabache neigh, his head backward walking around me, offended by the mistake and making me laugh.

“Deep black.” I walk to open the fence of the arena for Azabache walks and follow the rest of the drove of horses to go to the open field. 

A place where they can walk, run and enjoy the weather far away from the noise, their relaxed place. 

But the moment Pharaon appears and see Azabache so close of the honey boy; I could swear if he extends his hand Azabache would let him touch his face; but Pharaon went crazy, start to pull from the rein that one of the boys has to take them out tight for try to calm him; Azabache runs to his side just barely get he calm down, but enough for they walk to the open field. 

Rachel said following the horses. “Azabache has learned something from his mother after all.” She means to calm down Pharaon.

“Azabache?” The honey boy asked before leaving with Bill. “It's a curious name for a horse.”

“It’s latin.” I close the fence hearing Bill give the honey boy an informative fact.

He nods and observes me. “It’s a mineral, a black mineral, it said the royalty used like a precious stone.” I take my gloves out. “And others said it’s mineral for protection.”

“I’ll keep the first one.” The honey boy said with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, me too.” I nod. 

Bill cleared his throat. “Let’s go, otherwise, your mother will kill me if I leave her alone for so long.”

They must be doing the schedule for the coming week for the therapies, before I could introduce myself, Kaila, a little girl, daughter of one Marcus, one of the men in charge of the horse, screamed following her father.

“HE WILL LET ME RIDE ONE! CAN BE OBSIDIAN?” Obsidian it’s a 5 year old horse, like his name said, black but with a peculiar white dot in the front of his head. 

Marcus rolls his eyes regretting right away the decision, time for a team back girl. “I’ll see you later.” I said to the boys before jogging carefully, seeing their smile for the last time.

I grab Kaila's tiny hand. “I bet Vanilla will be dying to have that honor.” I knew for a good person, she spent an insane amount of time with the young mare, the color of her fur as a vanilla milkshake.

“I almost forgot her! Ok, I’ll go with her, just for today.” I laughed seeing Marcus more relaxed by the fact his little girl won’t ride a 1.74 meter horse for the first time.

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

Thank you for reading! 🍒

[whatremained]

aghhh. i was gonna respond earlier but i got tired. i’m still tired now but!!

you’re exactly right with the point that with the way connor’s autistic traits are written throughout the musical and book, they often get over looked. especially because it’s not the really common stereotype. not for men, nor for women. and a lot of connor’s traits are negative. top of my head, as im thinking of the scene i described previously… that IS a melt down. or! how connor is shown to be very impulsive. impulsivity is not commonly known as a symptom, and yet it still is.

both allistic and a handful of autistic people tend to ignore ugly and borderline harmful traits because it doesn’t make us look good… but the fact of the matter is that…? it’s a DISORDER (autism spectrum DISORDER). it’s not supposed to be all ‘i act a little shy and fixate on things’; we have a disorder, it’s not fun and games. and it sucks to see this ignored in characters who are very much autistic but don’t have the “nice looking” traits.

there is so… SO much i could write on about connor and the fact the fandom doesn’t seem to even take a glance at the fact that he could be autistic. because they believe autistic people are shy, nervous, and fixated on things. and while they can be that, autistic people can also be incredibly emotional, prone to anger for that reason, impulsive, etc.

i’m sick of the stereotype that… we as autistic people, are… shy and pure for some reason? and that we can’t be anything besides that??

and that’s a reason so many characters get shoved to the side because of the want for people to see autism not as what it is.

autism isn’t good. autism isn’t bad either. it’s just there, it’s a disorder.

i’m probably making the same points over but… who cares.

i feel like people find it harder to like. i don’t want to use the word infantilize, but that’s literally the correct word so… infantilize connor because he is shown as very pugnacious and somewhat truculent, and with that comes people viewing him as aggressive and assertive which aren’t traits many people take pity on.

this is also why i argue peopld attach onto the fake connor fandom wise, and in the show, because he’s shown to be willing, cooperative, and amiable… which is not who he was at the slightest.

people are able to infantilize connor, just not the actual character which… i am glad for but also? not because they miss the whole point of the show but that’s besides it.

and people baby evan like crazy and it pisses me off too. people act like evan… either did nothing wrong? or like…? idk it pisses me off when people try and characterize him as just a shy guy who’s would never do anything wrong in his life. random kind of too, but the characterization of evan being really short pisses me off because it adds to the infantilization. it’s?? like evan is canonically taller than connor (by book standard). why are we acting like he’s 4 foot tall? so we can infantilize him more? no thank you!

good lord. sorry about the rant!

it’s just that i’m talk about it because connor has always been a character that has stuck with me because i feel myself so represented by him. maybe it’s because of the autism, or maybe it’s because of the situation i’ve been in for awhile, but it might be the pattern of thinking he has which parallels mine (neurodivergent thinking huh). the way the book is written is immaculate in the way it writes from connor’s perspective, and it really highlights some (or at least mine lol) neurodivergent brains and how they process and view things.

aghhh again sorry. i like chatting about stuff i like

[kiwikiwiandkiwi]

.

[emily-mooon]

I feel mad >:(

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[starryjake]

nightmares | s.j

in which you have a nightmare and seek comfort from your roommate.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: nipple play, pussy eating, sleepy sex, unprotected sex (lmk if i missed anything).

it was childish, you knew: to be so afraid of a dumb nightmare that you had to go to your roommate for comfort.

but there you were, absolutely petrified. you laid flat on your back in your bed, not moving a muscle because you were so afraid. it didn’t help that it was storming outside either, the occasional cracks of thunder and lightning making you shiver.

when you checked the time on your phone, it read 2:19 a.m.

you briefly wondered if your roommate, jake, would be awake. it was dumb to even consider it because you knew he cherished his sleep, so he would definitely be passed out with it being that late.

even though you knew that, you still needed to be around another person. you were way too afraid to be by yourself right then.

you took a deep breath and pulled yourself out of bed. you leapt through your dark room and opened the door into the hallway. jake’s room was just across from yours.

his door was closed. you pressed your ear against it but couldn’t hear a thing. you were slightly frustrated that he was asleep, but it wasn’t like it was his job to stay awake for you just in case you had a nightmare.

slowly, you twisted open the door. his room was completely dark, but a flash of lightning illuminated his sleeping form for just a second. as you suspected, he was completely knocked out, buried under the covers in his bed.

you took a hesitant step inside, not entirely sure what you were doing by going into his room. you just needed company and the reassurance that your nightmare wasn’t real.

the door came to a close behind you, the sound of it shutting a little louder than you would’ve liked.

jake stirred, sitting up ever so slightly.

“y/n?” he mumbled, eyes squinted to look at you in the darkness.

“sorry i woke you,” you apologized, awkwardly standing by the end of his bed.

“what are you doing?” he asked. “what’s wrong?”

“i just…i had a nightmare,” you told him.

saying it out loud, you were embarrassed. you’d woken your roommate up like a child. you were selfish too for doing that. he worked hard and he was tired, thus he needed a full night of sleep.

“nightmare?” jake questioned.

“yeah,” you said. “i know, it’s dumb. i was just scared.”

“c’mere.”

your body filled with warmth and relief at the soft word from jake. he wasn’t mad, he was actually inviting you into his bed to provide you with the comfort you so desperately needed.

you crawled into his bed and slid under the covers with him. his bed was so warm and you immediately felt about a million times safer just being near him.

you laid on your side and he slid his arm around your waist, pressing his front side to your back.

you’d been roommates with jake for about a year, but you’d never once cuddled. you were friends—good friends, but you barely ever even touched. you never really hugged each other, never held hands, and especially never spooned in his bed before.

“d’you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

“no,” you said, not wanting to have to relive the awful nightmare. “i just couldn’t be alone.”

jake inhaled and all he could smell was the intoxicating scent of your shampoo. you were so warm and delicate in his embrace, he was definitely freaking out but trying his best not to show it.

“i’m here now,” he said. “nothing is gonna get you if i’m here.”

his words, for whatever reason, made your heart pound, made butterflies flutter in your tummy. to hear those sentences come from your incredibly attractive roommate made you…excited.

sunghoon was the reason you two knew each other. you were friends with sunghoon, jake was friends with sunghoon, and you all started hanging out in groups. you and jake coincidentally needed roommates at the same time, and then there you were.

you’d always thought he was hot and not only his physical appearance, but his personality too. he was sweet and caring and gentle, and you just really, really enjoyed him. his cute accent was a plus too.

“thank you,” you exhaled. “i knew you were sleeping and i really didn’t wanna wake you. i just—”

“hey, it’s okay,” he assured.

you suddenly felt the soft tingling sensation of his fingers grazing up and down your t-shirt clad back. you sighed in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“feels so good,” you told him, your voice in a mumbled daze.

“yeah?” he replied. “want me to keep going?”

“mmm, yes please,” you hummed tiredly.

jake cooed at your sleepy state and continued running the tips of his fingertips up and down the length of your back.

he continued to do that until you were slowly lulled into a soft doze.

after a few minutes, jake spoke.

“can i lift your shirt?” he asked.

your eyes flew open, startled by his sudden voice in what was such a quiet room.

“yeah,” you told him.

he slowly pushed your t-shirt up your body, revealing your smooth back. he left your shirt bunched up around your chest and reattached his fingers to your back, using his nails to glide up and down.

you leaned back into his touch, sighing in pleasure. jake’s breathing got ever so slightly heavier by the sight of your pleasured reactions and your pliant body against his.

he eventually switched to using the palm of his hand to rub your back soothingly. he rubbed along your back before his hand started inching to your side, and he rubbed there too.

he gently pulled you down so you were laying on your back. with him still laying on his side, he had a height advantage over you. he looked down at your tired face, licking his lips.

neither of you even said anything and mutually started leaning in at the same time. the moment was already intimate from him rubbing your back, it just felt right and normal to kiss.

his warm lips were heavy against yours, kissing you slowly and deeply. his hand came up to cradle your face, caressing your warm blushing cheek with his thumb.

“you’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips.

if you were any more awake, you probably would’ve been squealing and jumping up and down.

he trailed his hand down from your face and to the side of your waist. your shirt was still raised slightly, revealing a sliver of your stomach.

jake pushed your shirt up and stopped just below your breasts.

“can i keep going?” he asked, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

you were so excited about where things were going, you would’ve been an idiot to say no.

“yeah,” you answered, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back down to your lips.

he smiled against your lips and inched his tongue inside your mouth. you responded immediately, rubbing the slippery tip of your tongue against his. the sound was purely lewd, all wet and kissing noises.

he pushed your shirt up until it was over your chest, revealing your tits to him for the first time. the cool air in the room immediately hardened your nipples.

jake cupped your breast in his hand and swiped his thumb over your nipple, making you gasp and arch into his touch. he pulled away from your lips for a second to wet the tip of his pointer finger. he then brought his finger down to your nipple and rubbed it in little circles.

you moaned against his lips, jutting your hips up because you were suddenly a lot more needy that you’d realized. with the way he was playing with your nipple, it was starting to get you worked up.

he departed from your lips, trailing kisses down your chin, your neck, your collarbones, and finally to your chest.

he circled his tongue around the bud before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gently. you moaned out, entangling your fingers in his thick hair.

he played with the other neglected nipple, massaging it between his thumb and index finger. you spread your legs and tugged on his hair softly, showing to him how good it felt.

“you like that, baby?” he asked, licking your nipple in circles again. “is it makin’ you feel better?”

“fuck,” you moaned. “yeah, i love it.”

“cute,” he chuckled, switching to suck on the other nipple.

you weren’t sure how long that went on for. you just knew it was long enough for your panties to be completely soaked by the time he pulled away.

he kissed down your bare stomach and stopped where the waistband of your sweatpants were.

“can i keep making you feel good, baby?” he asked, his hand coming to wrap around your thigh.

you needed him to make you feel good. your pussy was so sensitive from being so aroused and you just needed something.

“mmm, please,” you answered. “it’s sticky.”

“it’s sticky?” he repeated, peeling your sweatpants down your legs. “let me see.”

he spread your legs and found that your flimsy pair of panties were completely soaked through from your arousal. he gulped, bringing his finger up and dragging it down your clothed slit.

you whimpered, jutting your hips up to try and get more contact out of just his one finger. he pushed your hips down.

“poor thing,” he cooed. “you’re soaked. did you like getting your nipples sucked that much?”

“yeah,” you answered pathetically, embarrassed.

“sweet girl,” he said, pouting at you. “gonna take care of you, angel.”

your pussy clenched around nothing.

he was quick to hook his fingers into your panties and slide them down your legs, tossing them onto the floor with your sweatpants. you were bare in front of him then, your cunt dripping and eager.

he spread your legs as wide as they could go. you felt so vulnerable underneath him. you’d never even hugged the guy, yet now you were there with your glistening cunt twitching in front of his face.

he held your thighs as he leaned in and look a long lick from the bottom of your sopping pussy all the way up to your puffy clit. he moaned as the taste of you infiltrated his senses, taking over his head. he knew just from that one lick alone that he was addicted.

“oh my god…” you trailed off, your hand finding his hair again to hold on to.

he started flicking his tongue up and down your folds, pushing his face into your cunt as deep as he could. he wrapped his lips around your clit, making out with it and drooling all over it.

for a moment, he pulled back to just look at your pussy. spread your lips with his thumbs, watching your drooling hole convulse.

“fuck, baby,” he nearly growled.

he couldn’t stay away for long and his face was buried back into your pussy a second later. he swiped his tongue back and forth against your clit, his eyes fluttering closed at the taste and the feeling of it.

“mmm,” he hummed into your pussy. “so sweet, baby. tastes so good. could’ve been eating you out since the day we moved in together if i knew you were this sweet.”

you could barely process any of his words, so lost in the pleasure he was giving you. his tongue worked your pussy like magic, slurping up your arousal and nibbling on your clit and thrusting in and out of your leaking hole.

“jake,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. “‘m close, fuck. i’m so close.”

jake dug his fingers into your thighs, frowning slightly in concentration. his tongue continued to move rapidly on your hot, gushing cunt.

the knot in your stomach suddenly snapped and your entire body fell weak. your eyes rolled back into your head and you fucked your hips against his tongue to ride out your orgasm. he moaned against you as the taste of your cum dripped down his throat.

he left your pussy with a kiss before sitting up on his knees. staring down at you, so sleepy and fucked out, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his cock deep inside of you and just pound until you both went dumb.

jake rubbed your thigh, watching your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“can i fuck you, baby?” he asked, slightly nervous about what you’d say.

you were tired, clearly. he wasn’t sure if you’d want to.

“yeah, jakey,” you said sweetly.

his heart throbbed at the nickname, and the fact that you were going to let him fuck you. the idea of what your tight cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock made him lightheaded.

he was quick to rid himself of his clothes. he was hard from eating you out and only needed to jerk himself off for a second before he was ready to put it in.

he lined the pretty pink tip of his cock up with your slippery hole and eased his way inside, not wanting to hurt you. he watched your reactions closely.

you looked up at him, your jaw falling slack at the feeling of his cock slowly filling your pussy up. your legs shook as he pushed himself to the brim, the tip of his cock hitting the spongey spot deep inside of you.

“oh,” you whimpered. “feels so good. i’m so full.”

“yeah, baby?” he cooed. “you nice and full of my cock?”

you nodded rapidly, sitting yourself up slightly so you could see his cock slowly slide out of you before pushing back in. your walls fluttered around him.

your pussy was so warm, wet, tight, and absolutely intoxicating just like how he knew it would be.

“such a good pussy,” he moaned, holding onto your hips as he thrusted. “got my dick all wet in your sweet cum, baby.”

there was a creamy ring of your cum around the base of his dick, which made a lewd squelching sound every time he thrusted.

you just whimpered in response, turning your head to the side. he was fucking you so deeply, dragging every inch of his long length through your tight walls.

you held onto his biceps, digging your nails into his skin. he bit his lip, looking down at your pretty supple body and the way you just laid there and took it, letting him fuck you nice and good.

“‘m close, baby,” he told you, grabbing your chin and turning your head so you were looking up at him again. “where do you want me to cum?”

you were so sleepy and fucked out that you could still barely comprehend his words. you also were starting to feel your second orgasm brewing in your stomach which made it even harder to focus.

you just babbled some incoherent nonsense.

“words, honey,” he said, squeezing your thighs. “tell me where you want my cum.”

“inside,” you cried out, tightening your legs around his waist. “wanna be filled.”

“fuck,” jake hissed. “i’ll fill you up real good. i’ll make you nice and warm, yeah baby?”

“please!” you yelled. “please, i need it.”

your words sent him straight over the edge. he choked on a moan as ropes of his warm cum spilled inside of you, drenching your walls.

seeing him hit his orgasm sent you over the edge as well, and suddenly you were clenching around him, sucking him completely dry.

waves of sweat and pleasure and euphoria washed over the both of you. you swear he was sending you to another dimension where the only thing you knew was pleasure and jake’s addictive cock.

he slowly rocked his hips in and out of you, milking both of your orgasms until you were both done and spent.

by then, you were both exhausted. he slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you. the two of you laid on your backs, staring at the ceiling in shock at what you’d just done.

you went into his room with the expectation of a little bit of comfort after your awful nightmare, not to have been given two orgasms.

for a few minutes, neither of you said anything.

then, jake spoke up.

“so, did i get you to forget about your nightmare?” he asked, turning his head to the side to look at you.

at that point, you couldn’t even remember what the nightmare was about.

“i think you did,” you answered.

he pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. within a few minutes, both of you were asleep in each others arms.

-

a/n long jake smut for 1k and bc im horny for him.

thank you for reading <3

[spacebell]

I do love my brother but I just don’t love living with him

[cheriecoke]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

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

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

word count: 7.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to sleep with you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

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

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go on..."

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

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

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

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

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

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

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

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

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

"Yeah, exactly..."

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

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

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

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

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

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

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

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

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a brat.”

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

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

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

"So, you don't believe me?"

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

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

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

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

“‘Course I do.”

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

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

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

“I am always nice to you.”

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

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

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

“Because I am!”

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

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

Why does he already miss your hands?

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

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

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

“Whatever, Joel.” 

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

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

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

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

“You got pat-”

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

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

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

“Hey, can you-”

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

“Can I what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

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

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

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

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

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

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

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

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

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel-“

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

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

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

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

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

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

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

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

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

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

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

“Darlin’-”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel… I-“

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

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

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

“Please, Joel.”

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

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

“You are divine, baby.”

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

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

“Y-yes, Joel.”

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

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

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

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

“God, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m more than okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”

[trashbatistrash]

,

[rizzanon]

03 | EVERYTHING IS AWESOME…

m.list | prev | next

The night was calm, as far as Gotham standards went. Dick leapt across rooftops with practiced ease, the crisp night air cooling the sweat on his brow. Patrol had been fairly routine so far—an attempted mugging here, a couple of carjackers there. But even as he flipped and fought, his mind was elsewhere.

You.

Why was it that for the past few days, he couldn’t seem to catch you for even a moment? Every time he stopped by the manor, Alfred had the same response: Miss (Name) is out at the moment, Master Richard.

Out? Out where?

He’d pressed Alfred for more details the first time, but the butler’s polite smile and vague responses left him with more questions than answers.

He ducked under a clumsy swing from a thug, twisting his attacker’s wrist and disarming him in one fluid motion. Were you avoiding him? The idea gnawed at him, even though he tried to dismiss it. Surely you wouldn’t do that. Not to him. Right?

But the signs were starting to feel undeniable. You answer his texts hours later, and even those were short and simple. Most of his calls went straight to voicemail and when you do pick up, it was to say that you couldn’t talk right now. Whenever he asked anyone in the family about you, they either gave noncommittal answers or shrugged. Even Damian had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped when Dick had broached the topic with him. That, more than anything, felt like a red flag.

Had the two of you not reconciled yet?

What did you two even argue about to get to this point? Damian wouldn’t tell him anything no matter how much he bugged him.

The thought made his chest tighten uncomfortably. Did he do something? Say something? He ran through every interaction he’d had with you in recent memory, trying to pinpoint where things might’ve gone wrong. But nothing came to mind. You’d always seemed fine, maybe a little quieter than usual, but he’d chalked that up to you being tired. Gotham took its toll on everyone eventually.

Still, the nagging doubt lingered. The idea that you might be avoiding him on purpose—it didn’t sit right. You were family. He thought he’d always made that clear (he did right?), that you could come to him about anything. So why did it feel like you were slipping away? Did he not make it clear enough? (did he even make it clear?)

Dick pushed off the railing, his footsteps echoing as he started pacing again. He didn’t like this feeling. He needed to figure out what was going on. What had changed? And why did it feel like you were determined to keep him at arm’s length?

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

He knocked the thug out with a quick jab to the jaw and spun around to check on Jason, who was dealing with the last of the group. His voice, distorted slightly by the modulator in his helmet.

Jason, of course, was handling them with his usual… flair. A solid punch here, a sharp kick there, and the thugs were down for the count in no time. As Jason holstered his pistol, he glanced over at Dick, tilting his head slightly as though sizing him up.

Dick let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “Haha. Very funny.”

Jason lets out an audible scoff. Even though his face was obscured by his helmet, Dick could practically feel the eye roll.

“So?” Jason drawled, crossing his arms as he leaned against a lamppost. “Are you gonna speak up or what?”

Dick just sighs as he puts away his escrima sticks.

“It’s about (name).”

“What? She messed up again or something?”

Dick’s head snapped toward him, his brow furrowing. “What? No. Why would you even—”

Jason shrugged, kicking at the unconscious body of one of the thugs as if to test if he was really out cold. “I dunno. She’s always messing something up, isn’t she? And you have to clean up after her. At least, that’s the vibe I get.”

Dick’s shoulders tensed, a sharp frustration bubbling to the surface. “Jason, seriously?”

Jason raised his hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not ‘just saying,’” Dick interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended. “This is exactly why I’m worried. You guys act like she’s just… this screw-up, like she’s some annoyance you have to deal with, and it’s not fair.”

Jason tilted his head, clearly surprised by the outburst. “Okay, hold on. Where’s this coming from?”

Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned against a nearby wall, staring out over the dimly lit alleyway. “(Name) quit being Batgirl.”

Jason visibly froze for a split second at Dick’s words, the tension in his stance betraying his surprise. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He let out a scoff, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Okay. And?”

Dick blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “What do you mean, ‘Okay, and?’” he asked, incredulous. “(Name) quit, Jason. (Name). The girl who literally begged B and Babs to let her become Batgirl. She didn’t just want it; she fought for it. And now—”

“And now she’s finally done being a liability in a cape,” Jason interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Honestly, Grayson, shouldn’t you be happy about it?”

Dick’s breath hitched, the bluntness of the statement striking a nerve. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but a part of him—the small, cruel voice he always tried to silence—had whispered something similar when he first heard the news.

Jason, noticing the brief flicker of hesitation on Dick’s face, took that as his cue to keep going. “I mean, come on. She’s not cut out for this life, and you know it. You’re just too polite to say it out loud. So, good for her. She’s finally realized what the rest of us already knew.”

Dick was silent, his jaw tightening as Jason’s words hung heavy in the air. He didn’t want to agree, not even a little. But the doubt had already been planted, and Jason’s callousness only made it worse.

“No,” Dick said finally, his voice firm. He shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of the thought entirely. “Don’t call her a liability, Jay. And that’s not the point. She quit, yeah, but she’s been distant ever since. When she had this huge fight with Damian—”

Jason snorted. “Probably demon spawn’s fault.”

“Don’t say that,” Dick snapped, frowning at him. “It’s no one’s fault, Jason. They probably weren’t in the right headspace and let their emotions get the better of them.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Dick ignored the jab, his focus still on you and the unanswered questions swirling in his mind. He wasn’t going to let Jason’s cynicism—or his own creeping doubts—stop him. Whatever was going on, he’d figure it out. And more importantly, he’d make sure you knew that he cared, no matter what anyone else thought.

Dick sighed, running a hand down his face. “Jay, come on.”

Jason turned to him, arms crossing defensively. “Seriously, what the hell do you want me to do, Dick?”

“I don’t know! Go talk to her or something!” Dick snapped, exasperation lacing his tone.

Jason gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Oh, right. Like she’d talk to me of all people. Great plan, genius.”

Dick threw up his hands in frustration, his patience quickly wearing thin. “Come on. What’s your deal?”

Jason paused, the question clearly catching him off guard. “Excuse me?” His voice dropped a notch, low and warning.

But Dick didn’t care about the edge in Jason’s tone or the way his posture screamed “back off.” He was too fed up, too worried, and too frustrated to stop now. “No, seriously,” Dick pressed, stepping closer. “It’s like you don’t even care about (Name).”

Jason’s whole body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. Dick could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

“What?” Jason snapped, his voice rising. “So you want her to keep wearing a mask and fight battles she clearly can’t handle? You want her to keep throwing herself into situations where she’s gonna get herself killed? That’s what caring looks like to you?”

Dick stepped forward, his own frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about whether or not she’s wearing a mask! This is about you acting like you don’t give a damn about her!”

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on what I feel? That’s rich coming from you.”

“I thought you two were close, Jason,” Dick shot back, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What happened? You used to care about her. You used to look out for her!”

Jason scoffed, the sound harsh and bitter. “What happened? Life happened, Dick. I’m not the same 15-year-old boy she knew back then. And I’ll never be that guy she knew again. So don’t stand there and act like you have any right to talk about my relationship with her when I don’t see you even having half of what me and her had before.”

That struck a nerve, and Dick’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t care about her?” he asked, his voice low and steady now, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Jason’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he was sizing Dick up. “Oh, you care, alright. But not enough to actually see what’s in front of you. She tries too hard, she’s always second guessing herself, and honestly? It’s exhausting to watch. Whereas you’re too busy running around trying to ‘fix’ everything to even notice.”

Dick flinched, the words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Jason shot back, stepping closer, his voice dripping with bitterness. “But here’s the thing—you want her to keep being Batgirl because it makes you feel better. Like you’re holding this family together or something. But did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, she quit because she wants to?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “And instead of giving her the space to do that, you’re chasing her down like she’s some mission you need to complete.”

Jason’s words hit Dick like a slap in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“I’m just trying to help her,” Dick said softly, his voice losing some of its fire.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, finally removing his helmet. His face was set in a hard expression, but there was something raw in his eyes. “Yeah, well, sometimes helping means knowing when to back the hell off.”

The two of them stood in tense silence, the night air heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Jason stepped back, shaking his head. “If you want to do something for her, stop acting like you know what’s best for her. I’d rather see her alive than rotting as a damn corpse, labelled as one of the old man’s fallen soldiers.”

With that, Jason turned and walked away, leaving Dick standing there, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on his shoulders.

The thugs were all rounded up and still unconscious, whereas Jason was out of sight. But his words lingered in Dick’s mind, playing on a loop.

I’d rather see her alive than rotting as a damn corpse.

Dick sighed, sitting on the edge of the rooftop. His escrima sticks rested loosely in his hands as he stared down at the empty streets below. Jason’s parting words had hit their mark, and he hated to admit it. The thought of you… dying—just the word alone made his stomach churn.

Jason had already died once, and Dick hadn’t been there to stop it. He hadn’t been there to save him. If the same thing happened to you, if you ended up another casualty in their endless war against Gotham’s darkness…

That’s on him.

He swallowed hard, gripping his escrima sticks tighter as guilt began to settle in his chest like a lead weight. Jason was right. It was probably a good thing you quit. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he let another one of his siblings die.

Siblings.

The word felt heavy now, laden with unspoken truths. Jason’s earlier jab suddenly clawed its way to the forefront of Dick’s mind:

Don’t stand there and act like you have any right to talk about my relationship with her when I don’t see you even having half of what me and her had before.

Did Jason really believe that? Did you?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Of course, he cared about you. Of course, he’d been there for you. Hadn’t he?

But as much as he wanted to dismiss Jason’s words, they stuck with him, gnawing at the edges of his conscience. Slowly, memories began to surface, unbidden and relentless.

He was Robin then—young, brash, and full of anger. The grief over his parents’ deaths was still fresh, a raw wound he didn’t know how to heal. And you… you were Bruce’s kid. That was all he saw you as. He watched you grow up, become this bubbly kid, who, for some reason, looked up to him a lot.

But what did he do with that? He bailed.

He could remember it so clearly now, those moments when you’d ask him to play with you, to just talk—and he’d brush you off. “Not now, (Name),” he’d say, and ruffle your hair. The Teen Titans needed him. Gotham needed him. But you didn’t know that. Bruce wanted to keep you out of this life, and frankly, he did too. Which was why there was always some excuse to explain why he was so busy, why he couldn’t play with you for as long as you wanted him to.

He winced as another memory came rushing back: one of the many times you’d waited up for him in the living room, hoping to show him some new arts and craft you did, or one of your tests that you did really well in. He’d walked in with Wally and Donna, laughing about something from their latest mission, barely sparing you a glance.

“Wow, this is nice!” He’d say absent-mindedly, before ruffling your hair like you were some kid tagging along.

“I’ll catch you later, alright?” he’d say, and then he’d leave you alone.

And what had you done? You’d nodded, forced a smile, even as disappointment flashed across your face. He hadn’t noticed it then—not really. He’d been too caught up in his own world, too focused on proving himself to the team, to Bruce, to everyone.

Dick let out a shaky breath, the weight of those memories settling over him like a suffocating blanket. God, Jason was right.

He hadn’t been there for you the way Jason had. Jason, for all his faults, had always been someone you could count on when he first came to the family—someone who didn’t bail, who didn’t make you feel lonely.

But that was before his death. Now things were different between you two. Neither of you were willing to repair the broken bond you two once shared. Why? He wasn’t sure.

Dick rubbed a hand over his face, the ache in his chest growing sharper. “Damnit,” he muttered under his breath.

What could he even do to make this right? To show you that you mattered to him—that you’d always mattered?

But deep down, he already knew the answer. He couldn’t fix this with mere words or gestures or even the best intentions. He had to show you, prove to you, that he was here for you now. That he wasn’t going to leave you alone this time.

Even if that meant letting you go for now, giving you the space you clearly needed. Even if that meant accepting that you no longer wanted to be Batgirl, that he’d fallen short. But he was willing to do better. Even if it meant he’d had to wait.

The thought hurt, but it was better than losing you for good.

“This is nice.”

The warm sunlight filtered through the trees at Gotham Park, casting dappled patterns across the picnic blanket. Caitlyn was leaned against you, her sketchpad balanced on her knees, pencil gliding smoothly as she doodled. Adrien sat cross-legged across from you both, stuffing another bite of a homemade pastry into his mouth with an exaggerated hum of delight.

Adrien nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with Caitlyn, as he pointed his fork at you. “You can say that again! (Name), I didn’t know you could make treats like this! They’re so good!”

Caitlyn grinned, glancing up from her sketch. “Literally! This is amazing. You’ve been holding out on us, chef.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands, a little bashful at their praise. “I… honestly didn’t think I could make anything this good,” you admitted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re kidding, right?” Adrien said, picking up another cookie. “These are, like, professional-level good. If you ever decide to stop… uh, doing whatever it is you do after school, you could totally open a bakery or something.”

You laughed, though the comment stung just a little—only because you didn’t know you were good at making pasteries.

To fill up your now free schedule after quiting as Batgirl, you had gone to Alfred and asked him to teach you how to bake.

Alfred, helpful and patient as always, agreed without hesitation. “Baking, my dear,” he had said with a faint smile, “is both a science and an art. It requires precision, but it is also a most rewarding endeavor.”

And so, your evenings became a blend of warmth, flour-dusted counters, and Alfred’s gentle guidance. He would show you how to knead dough, measure ingredients with precision, and even share some of his most guarded recipes—ones he claimed even your father was particularly fond of.

When you weren’t in the kitchen with Alfred, you spent your afternoons at the library with Caitlyn and Adrien. Studying with them, or rather, helping them study, had become another way to fill your time.

High school material was easy enough for you—thanks to your first life. You’d already tackled algebra, chemistry, and history years ago. So instead of cramming for tests yourself, you found yourself explaining concepts to Caitlyn and Adrien, who both leaned heavily on your ability to simplify even the most convoluted topics.

“Okay, so… if x is equal to 4, then y has to be…” Adrien tapped his pencil against his notebook, staring intently at the equation in front of him

“Eight,” Caitlyn supplied confidently, but her grin faltered when Adrien and you both gave her a look.

“Try again,” you said with a soft laugh, pointing to the part of the equation she’d miscalculated.

Caitlyn groaned dramatically, flopping back into her chair. “Math is dumb.”

“Math is logical,” you corrected, though your teasing tone made Adrien snort. “You just need to stop skipping steps.”

“Why does it feel like you’re giving us the cheat sheet to life?” Adrien said, glancing up from his notes. “You make this stuff seem so easy.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Caitlyn chimed in. “Are you secretly some kind of math genius or something?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ve just… always been good at this kind of thing.”

They didn’t need to know the full truth—that you’d already gone through high school. They didn’t know the truth about you or your family before, and you weren’t planning to change that now. They didn’t need to know about the mask you’d taken off or the life you were trying to leave behind. For now, it was enough to help them, to enjoy their company, and to let this simpler version of your life unfold.

It was strange, almost surreal, how quickly you’d settled into this new routine. But you found that you didn’t mind it. For the first time in a long time, life felt… normal. And maybe that was what you needed most.

As Caitlyn returned to her doodling and Adrien polished off another pastry, you leaned back on your hands, letting the moment sink in. It felt… peaceful. A rare pocket of calm in the chaos that had been your life lately.

The park was lively but not overwhelming, the gentle hum of laughter and chatter from other families and friends creating a soothing backdrop. The late afternoon sun warmed your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt grounded.

“Hey,” Adrien said suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “We should do this more often.”

Caitlyn nodded. “Agreed. This is probably the most relaxed I’ve seen you in weeks, (Name).”

You hesitated, glancing between your two friends. They weren’t wrong. But a part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. You weren’t being truthful to them, yet they were still being so nice. You didn’t deserve them.

You opened your mouth to reply, ready to brush off Caitlyn’s and Adrien’s comments, when a sudden, sharp flash of green invaded your vision. It was jarring—so vivid and overwhelming that you winced, instinctively bringing a hand to your temple. For a moment, it felt like the world tilted on its axis, the vibrant sounds of the park muffled by the ringing in your ears.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. The green was seared into your memory, the edges of it glowing like embers before fading entirely. The momentary pain in your head vanished, leaving behind nothing but confusion.

“What the hell…” you muttered under your breath, still dazed.

“(Name)!” Caitlyn’s voice was sharp with concern, snapping you out of your stupor. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

Adrien leaned closer, his eyes wide with worry. “You winced. Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

You glanced between the two of them, their faces etched with genuine concern. You didn’t want to worry them. You couldn’t worry them. So you forced a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, really. Just a headache. Probably didn’t drink enough water or something.”

But Caitlyn wasn’t buying it. She immediately pushed herself off you, her sketchbook forgotten as she leaned in close, her expression dead serious. “Nope. No way. If you’ve got a headache, you need to go home and rest. Sun’s probably not helping either.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Adrien chimed in, nodding emphatically. “Don’t push yourself too much. We can always continue this another time, okay?”

You tried to protest, but their stubbornness left no room for argument. Caitlyn was already packing up the picnic, her movements quick and decisive, while Adrien carefully wrapped up the leftover pastries.

“You guys are being dramatic—” you started to say, but Caitlyn cut you off with a pointed glare.

“Nope. Not hearing it. We’re not taking any chances,” she insisted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Come on, we’ll walk you home.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you realized there was no point in fighting them on this. “Alright, alright. I’ll go.”

As the three of you made your way out of the park, Caitlyn clinging protectively to your arm, your thoughts drifted back to the green flashes. What the hell was that? It wasn’t just a headache—that much you knew.

You forced a smile as Caitlyn began chattering about her latest art project, Adrien throwing in jokes to lighten the mood. But in the back of your mind, the unsettling image of green light lingered, pulsing faintly like a warning you couldn’t ignore.

You finally managed to convince Caitlyn and Adrien to leave you at the gates of Wayne Manor, reassuring them for what felt like the hundredth time that you’d be fine. They only relented when you promised to text them once you’re feeling better, and with a wave and one last concerned glance, they finally left. You sighed in relief and turned toward the manor, making your way inside.

When you stepped inside, that’s when you saw him—a familiar, bubbly boy practically skipping towards the manor entrance. Jon Kent. Superman’s son. Damian’s best (and only) friend.

Wow. He looked so much younger than you remembered.

The moment Jon spotted you, his face lit up. Before you could even blink, he was flying over to you, his grin wide and infectious. “(Name)!” he called cheerfully as he landed in front of you, his feet barely making a sound on the gravel path.

You blinked, startled but unable to help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Hey, Jon.”

“How are you? Are you okay? You look okay! Wait—were you out? Where did you go? Do you need help carrying anything?!” He practically bounced on his heels as he bombarded you with questions, his usual excited energy radiating off him like sunlight.

You chuckled fondly, shaking your head as you answered. “I’m fine, Jon, really. And no, I don’t need help. I was just out with some friends.”

“Oh, okay!” he chirped, looking momentarily reassured. “I was just here hanging out with Damian, but—uh, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I kinda didn’t tell my parents I was flying over here. So, you know, I should probably head back to Metropolis before they notice I’m gone.”

You snorted softly at that, a nostalgic warmth in your chest. “Your secret’s safe with me. I’ll pretend I didn’t see you.” You said, and winked.

Jon’s grin returned in full force, but it faltered slightly as he looked at you again. This time, his expression was hesitant, uncertain, like he was trying to figure out how to say something.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, tilting your head at him.

Jon shuffled his feet, his voice quieter now. “Uh… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He hesitated again, looking down before blurting out, “Is everything okay between you and Damian?”

You froze. The question caught you completely off guard. Your mind stalled, your smile faltering as you stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

Jon must’ve noticed, because he immediately panicked, waving his hands frantically as he backtracked. “Oh! You don’t have to answer! Forget I asked! It’s just—” He fumbled over his words, his cheeks turning red. “I was asking Damian about you, and he… he kinda just glared at me. And then he changed the subject! Really fast! Like, super fast. And, uh… I’ve never really seen him act like that before.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Damian… avoiding the subject of you? Now that you thought about it, you hadn’t exactly seen Damian around the manor since that argument in your room. It was like he was going out of his way to avoid you entirely. Was he?

But you couldn’t let Jon worry about that. He was just a kid, and this wasn’t his problem. So, instead of letting your own thoughts spiral, you forced a laugh and reached out to ruffle his hair gently. “Don’t worry about it, Jon. Damian and I just got into an argument, that’s all. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

Jon blinked up at you, his expression still unsure, but he nodded slowly, leaning into the comforting touch of your hand. “Okay… if you say so.”

“Really. We’ll work it out,” you reassured him, giving his hair one last affectionate pat. Somehow.

He smiled again, though it was a little smaller this time. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure. You know… you’re important to Damian too, even if he doesn’t say it.”

You paused at that, something in your chest squeezing painfully, but before you could respond, Jon glanced at the time and jolted upright. “Oh no! I really gotta go now, or I’m so dead!”

With that, he gave you a hurried wave, his boyish grin returning. “Bye, (Name)! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You smiled softly and waved back as he floated up into the sky, watching as he zipped off toward Metropolis in a blur of red and blue. Once he was gone, you let out a slow breath, your hand falling to your side as your thoughts drifted back to Damian.

Jon’s words lingered in your mind.

You’re important to Damian too.

It doesn’t really feel that way though….

Alfred Pennyworth, ever the watchful guardian of Wayne Manor, had always considered it his duty—not just as a butler, but as something far more profound—to care for the members of the Wayne family. For all their strength and tenacity, they were, at their core, human. Bruce and his children—each carrying burdens far heavier than any child or young adult should. And so, he noticed things. He always noticed.

Lately, what he noticed most was the way you carried yourself these past few days—lighter, freer. There was a spark in your eyes that had been absent for far too long, a small but significant ease in your posture. You looked happier. Relaxed, even. It was subtle, something anyone else might have overlooked, but not Alfred. No, he knew you. He knew what haunted you when you thought no one was looking. But now? Now you seemed… different.

Frankly, he hoped it stayed that way.

“Miss (Name), if I may,” Alfred began gently as he watched you measure flour into a bowl, a little puff of white powder escaping into the air. “You seem… at peace, lately...”

You paused, glancing up at him with a small, slightly sheepish smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Indeed.” He gave you a soft, knowing look as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “Would it be terribly forward of me to inquire as to what—or who—has brought about this change?”

You shifted, focusing a little too hard on sifting the flour as you shrugged. “It’s my friends. Caitlyn and Adrien. They helped me realize there’s more to life than just…” You trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Than just the responsibilities placed upon your shoulders?” Alfred offered delicately.

You nodded, giving him a grateful glance. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Your friends. Alfred found himself deeply relieved to hear that you had people like Caitlyn and Adrien in your life—people who brought you happiness, people who helped lighten the weight you carried. “I see,” he said with a small smile. “It gladdens my heart to know you have such loyal companions. Though, might I suggest inviting them here, to the manor?”

You blinked, looking at him as though he’d suggested something preposterous. “Alfred…”

“Miss, it would seem only fair for me to meet the individuals who have been instrumental in helping you through your turmoil. They seem like lovely people.” His tone was kind, slight humourous even, as he mixed something in a nearby bowl.

You laughed softly, but there was a stubborn edge to it as you shook your head. “As much as I’d like for you to meet them, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alfred. They don’t know about this family’s secrets, and I intend to keep it that way..”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, ever patient. “I’m certain Master Bruce and Master Richard can manage a polite exchange, at the very least.”

You gave him a pointed look, and Alfred sighed, though it was laced with fondness. “Very well, Miss (Name). If you insist.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, giving him a small smile.

Though Alfred was slightly disappointed at your reluctance, he respected your wishes. He always did. And if your friends made you happy—even if he wouldn’t be able to meet them—then he supposed that was enough for now.

“Now then,” Alfred said, turning back to the task at hand, “you’ll want to add the butter slowly while continuing to mix.”

You hummed as you followed his instruction, your brow furrowing in concentration. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, the kitchen filling with the soft sounds of utensils clinking, the hum of the oven warming, and your quiet conversation.

“So, Miss Caitlyn and Mister Adrien—are they excelling in their studies with your assistance?”

“Adrien, yes,” you said, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Caitlyn… well, she’s trying, but math isn’t really her thing.”

“And yet you continue to help them both. How noble of you,” Alfred replied as he handed you a whisk. “And what of school itself? Are you settling in well?”

You shrugged, starting to mix the ingredients. “Eh…It’s alright. A little boring sometimes, but I guess it’s better than…”

Dying.

You stopped yourself short, quickly correcting, “better than not being in school at all.”

Alfred didn’t miss the slip, but he didn’t press. “Indeed. A dull day can be a blessing in disguise.”

You gave him a thoughtful look, lips quirking into a soft smile. “You always know what to say, Alfred.”

“I try, Miss (Name). I try.”

And as Alfred watched you work—your expression relaxed, your mind seemingly at ease—he hoped, quietly, that this simpler version of your life, this peaceful respite, would last just a little longer.

The soft hum of the oven filled the kitchen as you pulled the last batch of treats onto the counter. The warm, golden pastries sat neatly on their tray, a small comfort in a life that had otherwise been anything but neat. Baking had become your escape—an anchor to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

But the calm was short-lived.

Alfred’s comm buzzed quietly, and though his expression remained composed, you saw the subtle shift in his demeanor—a slight straightening of his back, the way his gaze sharpened. Something was happening.

“It seems Master Bruce and the others require my assistance,” he said, his tone steady as always.

You already knew what that meant. Gotham was in chaos again.

Alfred turned to you, his expression softening with the familiarity of his next question. “Are you sure you do not wish to assist? They could use an extra hand, Miss (Name).”

The offer hung in the air, and for a second, you hesitated. There was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes, to jump back into action and prove yourself—to prove you could help.

But then you suddenly got flashbacks of a memory that you had kept stored away. Oh right. You remembered what this attack was.

Another one of Riddler’s bombing attacks.

Riddler had been terrorizing Gotham with a string of coordinated explosions around this time, targeting key buildings across the city. Chaos had unfolded over the city as your father, along with other available vigilantes in Gotham, scrambled to contain the damage, evacuate civilians, and track down Riddler before he could set off another series of bombs.

You had been told to stay put back then. “It’s too dangerous,” Bruce had said. “We need you to sit this one out.”

But you hadn’t listened.

You’d tracked down one of Riddler’s supposed locations on your own, convinced you could help. The moment you arrived, you knew you’d made a mistake. The building had been rigged, and your sudden presence sent everything spiraling. The countdown on the bomb accelerated. The Riddler’s men panicked and scattered, slipping out before Bruce and the others could surround them.

Dick, Tim, Stephanie and Cassandra had to swoop in to clean up the mess—disarming the bomb, calming the chaos, and stopping any further destruction. They managed to save the day, to prevent any civilian casualties, but Riddler himself got away.

Bruce’s fury still echoed in your head.

“Do you have any idea what you nearly cost us tonight?”

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye.

“They got the job done,” you’d mumbled, your voice small, but that hadn’t mattered to him.

“Because they had to clean up after you,” he’d snapped, his words sharp enough to sting. “You disobeyed a direct order, and you let Riddler slip away.”

It was one of those moments you wouldn’t forget. Not because of Bruce’s anger, but because he’d been right. You’d wanted to help, and all you’d done was make it harder for everyone else.

Back in the kitchen, you swallowed hard, snapping back to the present. Alfred was still watching you patiently, waiting for an answer.

“I’m sure,” you said finally, your voice tight but firm. You offered a small, forced smile. “They don’t need me. They can handle it themselves.”

For a moment, Alfred regarded you with that knowing look of his, like he could see through every wall you’d put up.

“Very well,” he said softly, though there was a faint note of disappointment in his voice. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you cut in quickly, your voice quieter this time.

Alfred gave a small nod, seemingly accepting your answer, though you didn’t miss the flicker of concern in his gaze as he turned toward the door.

As he left to fulfill his duties, the kitchen fell silent once more. You leaned back against the counter, staring blankly at the pastries you’d worked so hard on.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

“They don’t need me,” you whispered to yourself, repeating the words like a mantra.

But it didn’t feel comforting. It felt hollow.

Because, deep down, the truth still hurts you even now.

You stood in the quiet kitchen for a moment after Alfred left, the hum of the Wayne Manor settling into the evening stillness. The smell of baked goods lingered in the air, but even that wasn’t enough to soothe the weight pressing down on you. With a tired sigh, you began packing everything away, carefully placing the treats into containers and wiping down the counters.

Once the kitchen was clean and silent, you dragged yourself upstairs to your room. It had been a long day—long week, really—and all you wanted to do was sleep. Kicking off your shoes and pulling the blankets over yourself, you let exhaustion take over. For once, you didn’t dream.

A sharp ringing jolted you awake.

Your eyes cracked open reluctantly, the faint glow of your phone lighting up your bedside table. The clock read 4:23 AM. Groaning, you fumbled for the phone, squinting at the screen to see an incoming call—and a series of missed notifications.

22 messages from Caitlyn.

The sight alone snapped you out of your drowsiness. Your stomach twisted, the urgency of it sinking in as you swiped to pick up.

“Caitlyn?” Your voice was groggy and thick with sleep, but there was an edge of concern as you sat up in bed. “What’s going on?”

“(Name)!” Caitlyn’s voice came through the line, panicked, frantic, and scared. It hit you like a punch to the gut. “Oh my god, I—It’s Adrien….He—He’s in the hospital…!”

What?

I think you guys should read the masterlist once more in case you missed out any key warnings…

taglist (1/2): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 @reallyromealone @plsfckmedxddy @sea-glasses @203moonysello @luvly-writer @dovey-quacks2332 @love-theangel @hotdinoankles @vebbiewuzhere @animegirlfromvietnam @estreiiuh @simply-lovely78 @twismare @ssak-i @g4bbi3xx @alor-thes | ask to be added <3 (idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[cherry-pop-elf]

Your Own Happy Ending

Mouthwashing gang X Reader

AN: Can be read as platonic, and can be implied to be any/multiple characters. Except Jimmy. Fuck you Jimmy

Sum: Enough was enough. Time to get off this stupid Rock

Warnings: 18+, violence, sexual assault, revenge fic, talks about rape, gore, happy ending don’t worry, trauma, mouth wash, graphic violence, written by a victim of sexual assault and giving all of us that need to get revenge on our abusers. I see you, guys gals and nonbinary pals. I see you

This had to stop. He was going to just hurt more and more people. There will be more victims. You can’t become a victim, you can’t have the ones you love be under his hands. No. No one deserved this.

No one except him.

Curly was at deaths door, Anya is going to reach a point of no return in her pregnancy, Daisuke is on the edge of a mental break down, and even Swansea is shattering apart. One bottle of mouthwash at a time.

You didn’t know what will happen next. You were crashed in god knows where, but maybe there is a chance of hope. Maybe there is a way to get home. Maybe. Maybe maybe maybe.

The cockpit is full of foam, but who says you can’t just cut away at it enough to access a transmitter? What’s else is left to do? Not like waiting and praying is helping.

Would explain why Jimmy refused to let anyone have the keys to the pit.

He didn’t want his sins to escape.

You’ll make them escape out of his damn body.

There was no way Anya was going to tell you where the gun was. Guess that means you’ll need to improvise. Had a ax. A ax can do it, but getting it away from Swansea is going to be troubling. He was keeping it as much for self defense at this point as you would have to.

You needed a weapon.

Your hands couldn’t handle it. Jimmy was able to do so much harm already. Anya was most likely not his only victim. He’s certainly done this before. Meaning he knows how to fight, and get someone pinned under him. There to do whatever he wanted.

You had to get him before he got you.

What else could be a weapon?

A knife? A knife!

You ran into the kitchen, much to the confusion of Swansea and Daisuke, only to start tearing the drawers out. Utensils flying everywhere as you tried to find something. Anything sharp.

To your horror there was no knives.

“He took all the knives….”

You looked over, same for Swansea, as it had been Daisuke who said it.

Daisuke said it.

“They are all in Curly’s old room. Since he’s the new captain now he has the ability to lock down that door. No one gets in, and no one gets out. Whatever he wants to hide is there. Noticed him hoarding things there. Was so confused…..Now I’m not anymore.”

Swansea looked ready to start swinging his ax at the nearest body of organs. He couldn’t believe this was real. That this was some shining bullshit.

This couldn’t go on.

“Swan, Daisuke, you guys gotta grab Anya and hide out in the med-bay. I’ll find something. I’ll find something-“ You rambled on, before Anya had poked her head in. Seeing Swansea holding Daisuke, and trying to keep that ray of sunshine from finally snapping.

“What’s going on?” She would whisper. Ever afraid if she spoke to loud that Jimmy would find her. Find her and do something else. Didn’t matter where she was. He was always breathing down her neck. One way or another.

“Little junior adventurer over there wants to finish the job.” Swansea would grit his teeth, as you still kept hunting down for something. Willing to tear apart cushions. You had to find SOMETHING. Maybe you could break a chair leg, maybe you could use some wires. Maybe maybe maybe-

That’s when Anya held your shoulder. Her tired eyes pulled you away from the incoming insanity. Brought you back to reality, and had you listen. Listen for just a moment.

“This is where the jugular vein is-“ She begun, as she pointed to her neck. Then started to name off more vital arteries, before pulling a scalpel from her pocket. Into your hands they went, as she kept listing off every vital vein possible. Weak points every body had.

Even a man like him.

“Last I saw him he was exploring the lower decks. Please…..Just make it quick.” As much as she hated him, she just could only bring herself to be only so cold. She could never be as cruel as Jimmy. To wish death onto someone. Never would she.

That’s what made her forever better than him.

“Come on, kid. You ain’t gonna wanna see this. Get over here, Anya. Come on. Let’s go have a sleepover with Captain Curly.” He would motion her over, and she would snuggle under his arm. The two safe in his arms, as he would walk them to the med-bay.

Was wise for him to keep the ax. That thing was what kept Jimmy from doing his own finishing of the job. You can’t over power him. No you can’t. There was also the fact Anya made sure to keep the gun hidden. You wouldn’t deny the idea it was in the med-bay somewhere. Just more protection if anything.

They’ll be safe. If you didn’t make it, at least you’ll make sure Jimmy is too weak to try anything more to hurt them. Weak enough for someone else to finish the job. What mattered now was them staying away until the job was done, and for you to figure out what to do next.

You needed that damn key.

You would stuff your hands in your pockets, grip tight on the scalpel, and started walking. Walking, thinking, listening. Eyes glued to anything that could offer an opportunity to be jumped. You had to be vigilant.

As you walked you would notice the door that was once Curly’s. How Jimmy didn’t deserve the luxury of what a Captain gets. Made you wonder what else he was also hoarding in that room. Maybe he was hoarding resources that should have been shared with the rest of you. There could be the slimmest chance that he was hiding away a transmitter even. Not having the guts to destroy it, and maybe even as far as to what for the rest of them to kill each other before he called for help.

That coward.

You had to get his keys. You needed those keys for those you love. They deserved to live. YOU deserved to live. No way in hell will Jimmy keep getting away with this. Never again. Never more.

Your nerves were getting tighter and tighter now. Even the sound of your own heart beat was painfully loud in your head. The sweat on your skin, the itch of your skin being too tight, the pounding of drums, the feeling of air pushing at your ribcage. So much as your eyes blinking was to loud.

Everything was to loud.

That’s when a bang of metal hitting metal alerted you. You spun around, and was just met with nothing. Just an empty, dark, hallway. No source of the noise. Maybe there was none to begin with. Just your nerves.

“Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You know you have to do this. There is no other option. You can do this. For Anya, for Daisuke, and for Swansea.”

A wipe to your brow and you returned to hunting him down.

Felt like an eternity. Just endless hallways in red lights of emergency. Hallways blocked off by foam. Was a scarlet bouncy castle of horror. Never did the ship feel so endless yet so tight. Maybe the ship itself was breathing to.

Never did you think you would be happy to see his ugly face.

He was down in the lower decks, seeming to be trying to access a door that Swansea had managed to block off. Swansea was stronger than he looked, and was a mechanic no less. Jerry rigged a makeshift lock for the door. If you recall correctly that was where the cryo-sleep pods were. He had been working to try and fix them up, but you doubt they survived. Guess it’s better to pretend you are doing something useful than do nothing at all.

“Hey Jim, whatcha doing?” You tried your best to act casual, as you watched him trying to get the lock off. A mixture of locking mechanics and bent metal that kept things in place. Jimmy just didn’t have the body weight to unbend them. Who ever said being fat wasn’t useful?

“Trying to get into this damn room. Be useful and help me, won’t you?” He grumbled, as he kept trying to pull the metal.

This was your chance.

This almost felt to perfect. He was distracted, hyper focused on something, and was crouching. You would have the upper hand. You can pull this off. You just had to fight your nerves.

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m coming.” You would say, as you would walk closer to him. Flashes crossed your vision with each step. Was like blurs of a shadow puppet show. Visions of his talle outline pinning Anya to the ground, another of him pinning Daisuke to a wall. Even Swansea wasn’t free from the concept of being pinned to a surface and abused.

No one was safe with Jimmy still around.

You would soon be standing behind him, as he focused on the lock. He was right there. You just had to do it. Do what Anya showed you. His neck was exposed. It was right there. You just had to do it.

You pulled your weapon out, and took in a deep breath.

Just as you brought your arm to swing, Jimmy turned around.

Happened in a flash. You made contact with his skin, but it was his cheek instead. He would tumble over, and was quick to kick your legs out from under you. Had you slam your back to the ground. Knocked the wind out of you.

“I fucking KNEW IT-! YOU GOD DAMN BITCH-!” Was like he wasn’t even human anymore. Just as much of an animal on the outside as he was on the inside. You had to run. You had to get out of there. You fucked up your perfect chance. Your messed up and he’s going to remind you that you did.

You attempted to get up, but Jimmy was just that much faster than you. Your ankle was grabbed, and he was yanking you closer. You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming, as he would try and pry the medical tool from you.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU RAPIST PIECE OF SHIT-!” You nearly sobbed, as he stared down at you. Your wrists pinned above your head, as he just gawked at you. Was like he never even heard the word before.

“Rapist? You think I’m a fucking rapist? You little fucking bitch. I’m no such damn thing. What happened between us was nothing of the sort. It was just what happens when someone gets in my way. Reaching your goals isn’t a crime. Is it?” He asked you, as you kept struggling under him. Trying to get away.

“Fuck. YOU-!” And you slammed your face into his. Gave you a blinding headache instantly, but the shock of contact was enough to make him let go. You were soon crawling, and now running, away.

“IM GOING TO KILL YOU! IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU LIKE IVE BEEN TRYING TO DO WITH CRASHING THIS STUPID SHIP!” His voice echoed like the demon from hell he was.

You never thought such fear like this could be in your body.

Your vision was a blurry mess from the head bang, but you just used the walls to offer you guidance. To try and find a place to breathe, and wait. To try again. You won’t give up. You refused to give up.

“COME BACK HERE-! YOU CANT RUN FOREVER! THERES NOWHERE ELSE FOR YOU TO GO-!” He would threaten you. His voice just seeming to be coming from everywhere. Was like he was inside of your own head. Like he was all of your insecurities crawling through your skull, and turning your brain into a mushy puddle of doubt and fear.

You still kept going.

You would find yourself back into the dinning hall, and took your chance in hiding in the kitchen area. Ducking down and hiding yourself by the elevated counters. If he kept running he shouldn’t notice you.

You would hold your knees, recollect yourself, and breathed.

The echoes of his running foot steps were like alarm bells in your ears. To hear them get closer, more distant, then closer again. Clearly having lost where you went, but still keeping up chance. How did he have so much energy? He must have been indeed hoarding resources. No way should someone surviving off mouthwash have this much stamina.

Your confused thoughts were cut short by the quickening pace of the foot steps. From banging on metal to proper flooring. He had entered the kitchen. He was breathing hard, and just boiling in anger.

“Where’s that fucking bitch? Where did that fucker go?” He would pant, as you would hear something sharp run over the counter marble. Must have grabbed a knife from his bedroom. Maybe that meant he left the door unlocked as well.

That could be your chance to get a proper weapon.

You just had to wait. Wait and pray he didn’t look over the counter.

You couldn’t tell where he was looking, but you needed to risk it. You would grab for one of the spoons off the ground, and threw it as far as you could. Into the hallway to the next part of the ship. You managed to get enough distance. The sound of metal hitting on the grates was loud. You swore you could feel the head thwip of Jimmy turning towards it.

“Found you-!” He shouted cockily, as he ran into that direction.

“Dumbass.” You muttered, as you soon ran the opposite way. Trying to find his room before he realized he was had.

You even went as far as to take off your shoes, so your feet made much less noise. Harder to be tracked and followed. Never did you think listening to Daisuke ramble about horror movie logic would come in handy. Gave some weird morbid hope that maybe Anya will be a final girl and make it out of here alive.

You would hear the foot steps echoing around you, as you tried to stalk quieter towards the dorm hallways. Was so hard to make out where they were going and coming from. The distant shouts of annoyance weren’t helping either. Was just making you more aware of your own mortality.

Luckily you managed to find the door. He snuck inside, and closed the door. Maybe he would think he locked it behind himself and not even think of checking in there. Maybe he was dumb enough to be fooled.

When in the room you couldn’t help but be disgusted by the sight. He really was hoarding food! The knives were also laid all out on his desk. Organized like he was planning to use them. There was also a trans communicator. Just as you thought there was. You thought it was suspicious there wasn’t a means to transfer information in case of an emergency. Even Pony Express had to have THAT. Suppose believing it was just consumed by foam was easier. Maybe it was and he dug it out himself.

No matter. You had hope.

You quickly grab the device, and turned it on. By god it WORKED!

“Hello? Hello?! This is the Tulpar for The Pony Express! We’ve been crash landed for months! Pony express has laid us off and hasn’t sent any rescue by proxy! Can you hear me?!” You couldn’t help but shout, as the transmitter would crackle.

“We read you loud and clear. How many are on the ship?” You were sobbing. No way. Someone was actually hearing you!

“Five! We have five people here! One in critical condition! Captain Curly! He’s alive! Alive but having suffered the most from the crash. We are running lower on medical supplies, we have very little food, we’ve been drinking fucking mouth wash to survive!” You weeped, as the person on the other end was taking in the information.

You said five for a reason.

“Keep on the line with us as we track your signal. Are you in any immediate danger?” The person asked.

“YES YOU ARE-!” Jimmy would shout behind you, before stabbing you right in your shoulder. You screamed bloody murder, as the person on the line gasped. Despite the pain, you were keeping your grip on the communicator. You weren’t letting go. No you fucking WONT.

“STUBBORN BITCH-!” He shouted at you, as you used your body to protect that communicator with all your body and life. You didn’t care if he was going to kill you now. You were getting everyone home. You were and you fufilled your mission.

“Just get it over with already you coward! How many people did you rape?! Huh?! Was Anya the first?! Like hell! She’s your most recent! Was Daisuke next?! Was I next?!” You called out, as you had nothing to lose anymore. You were going down with your own ship, unlike him.

“If you have to know, Anya wasn’t my last at least. She really thought leaving me alone with Curly was smart. Dumb whore-“ He would yank out the knife, making you bleed and scream. The hot searing pain was just beyond words. You were seeing stars, and not the kind you wanted.

“Was figuring how many I could get away with. Didn’t think she would actually tell anyone. Didn’t think much about her at all. Guess you live and learn. You live and l-“

Bang.

Silence.

Silence, the crackle of a communicator, and the ever breathing ship.

With a thud to the ground you were able to finally gain some vision to look over. Over to see Jimmy was dead on the ground, with a bullet hole through his forehead. Those terrifying eyes were now glsssy and empty. Looked almost relaxed. The only time he seemed to rest.

He was dead.

Your vision was blurring, and noise around you was muffled. All you could hear was muffled noise. Was like you were underwater. Your vision was starting to blur again as well. Couldn’t make out shapes.

You thought you saw someone with black hair above you. Seeming to grab something and speak into it. Was there something yellow to? Yellow and shaking you? There was also this almost pinkish blur as well. Came to you, and you swore you heard someone saying ‘you’re a hero’ before it all went to black.

One Month After The Call.

“Morning sunshine.”

You would groan, as you rubbed at your eyes. What happened? Was it all some bad dream? Where were you? This place didn’t look like the med-bay. Was so clean and white. There were windows too. Holy shit was that daylight? REAL daylight?

“Over here.”

You turned your head, and you saw him. Captain Curly. Looked so much better than when you last recalled him. His skin wasn’t as red, proper bandages were on him, and his lips even seemed to be healing back. Skin graphs? Was still laying in a bed, but far more cared for. Proper bedding, clean, IV bags, and…Wait…..Did he speak?!

“Been out a while. Don’t worry not much to catch you up on. You kinda went into a medical coma, from what Anya tried to explain to me. Everyone agreed to put you in the Cryo-Pod until help arrived. Was the only way to keep us both alive. All the resources had to go to me, sorry about that, so they had to pretty much freeze you in time. Big Swan had managed to make it function enough to work until the rescue team came for us. Welcome to the land of the living, hero.”

Even with his messed up complexion, and voice so hoarse you thought he himself was speaking through a communicator, you smiled. A hero huh? Wait. That meant….

“Did Anya pull the trigger?” You asked, with your own voice rasp from lack of use.

“Yeah. Yeah she did. We heard you screaming and she just….Couldn’t let you be his next victim. You gave her some bravery. I already knew she was brave, but damn. Who needs a Captain when you have her?” His laughter was painful, but you knew it was worth it.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Anya has been working with staff here. They took her in to be a doctor with them when they saw that the likes of me was still alive and functional. They really didn’t want to lose someone as smart as her. Daisuke has been glued here as much as us-“ He would weakly raise his arm, what’s left anyway, towards the sleeping solider. Curled up on a spare cot that was brought in for him. The staff having been understanding that he deserved to be around you both. His parents most likely were the ones to bring in all the video games for him to play with and show Curly as well. Even after so much he was still taking care of the ones he loved.

“Swansea?” You worried the most, since you wondered where he could be.

“Sueing the ever living fuck out of Pony Express for whatever damn dime they have left. Daisuke’s parents, and him, have been at the forefront on it all. He will come visit us soon. Get some rest, sunshine. You’ve earned it.” But you couldn’t help but worry. A worry that one person wasn’t accounted for.

“He’s dead. I do mean dead dead. By the time help arrived he had already well started decomposing. Swansea even went the extra mile and cut his head off from his body. Kinda overkill, but hey….Can’t take risks with monsters. Right?” You nodded at that, as you were able to rest.

No more Jimmy.

No more space ships.

Time to finally be a princess and get your beauty sleep.

“Sleep well, sunshine.”

“You to, Captain.”

A deep breath in of that sterilized air, fresh cut grass, and clean cotton.

You were free.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: Satoru makes the biggest mistake of his life. If he could go back in time, he would take it all back in a heartbeat.

Warnings: Heavy Angst, Cheating, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Some Biting, Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Creampie

*This is a commission for the lovely @mew4-ever18. Thank you so much dear, this was so fun to work on❤️ also you can thank her since she wanted me to share with y'all!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

There’s something wrong with Satoru, and you can’t quite put your finger on it– Well, you have an idea of what it is but you don’t want to accuse your fiancé of such an outrageous act of betrayal. He’s coming home later than usual, bearing gifts and stinking of some cheap perfume. He claims he’s working late with his secretary, the company is going through a rough patch and he has to fix it all.

You noticed it from the beginning. One night Satoru came home later than usual and he wasn’t your usual Satoru. He was distant and refused to even make eye contact with you. He was hiding his phone, and was extra wary about where he put it for the night. It happened six months ago, and you were willing to look past it because you loved Satoru and it was surely a one time thing.

Until the next day where the same thing happened. And then a week later. Six months later you’re dealing with the same issue, trying to convince yourself that it isn’t happening. The signs are all there, but you don’t want to question your partner’s loyalty. Truly after making such accusations, everything will be over. So you bite your tongue even though Satoru clearly acts differently for a reason.

“How was work today?” You ask him, clearing the table from the dinner you just had. You surprised him tonight, preparing one of his favorite meals since you knew he’d be home early tonight. You hope that by surprising him with food, he’d come home early more often.

Unluckily for you, Satoru played with his food the entire duration of the meal. He was looking at his phone the entire meal, barely acknowledging your presence. But you’ll attribute it to him having a rough day at work. A rough week at this point… Nevertheless, you’ll find a way to excuse his behavior.

“Can you help me clean up?” You ask him after your question goes ignored, and Satoru barely acknowledges your existence. You’re getting tired of this, and you’re not sure for how much longer you can withstand it. You speak again, your voice much firmer this time, “Satoru, honey, can you help me?”

“Uh… Sure.” He replies, standing up from the table and doing just as you’ve asked. You make some conversation with him, knowing you hold his attention for a small fragment of time and you have to make it count. He gives you vague answers, but at least he gives you something. 

Midway through the conversation is like a flip switches in Satoru, and he begins to smile as he speaks to you. He cracks a couple of jokes, and you two begin to laugh like the sweet couple you are. You feel like you’re in the very beginning of your relationship once again. He’s making jokes just to hear your sweet laugh.

Before you know it, you’re cuddling up with him on the couch. You allow yourself to easily forget about his past behavior, simply because he’s acting like the man you love after all this time. 

“Was dinner not good? You barely touched your food.” You ask him, and he bites down his lip.

“It was good, I wasn’t too hungry though.” He answers, though he quickly changes the topic. You partially understand why he wants to talk about something else. You’re finally having a good time, he doesn’t want it to change. “When’s your next work trip? I don’t want to get accustomed to having you here.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow for three days.” You respond, and you see a small pout come to his face. You almost laugh at the response, chuckling before kissing his cheek. You don’t understand the response when most nights he isn’t by your side either way, but you still appreciate the reaction. “I’ll be back in no time, babe.”

“I’m going to miss you.” He says, a phrase that is odd to hear from him but it brings a smile to your face. Maybe whatever is going on is fixable. You peck his lips, getting even closer to him.

“You can appreciate me while I’m still here.” You tell him, and within a blink of an eye, you’re on top of him. He’s given you no sign, but you feel the need to try to initiate something with Satoru. You had a consistent sex life with him until recently. The last time you felt Satoru’s touch was three months ago, and it was unsatisfactory to say the least… You hope you can change his mind this way. It’s stupid. 

You’re getting frisky, your hands unbuttoning his shirt while you kiss him, full of desperation. You need him. You’re too caught up in your own sentiments, barely noticing that he’s not touching you. You’re doing everything.

He’s not even kissing you back. You’re grabbing his hands and putting them on your ass since you know it’s one of– If not his favorite part of your body. But his hands quickly fall, telling you he’s disinterested.

“Satoru–” You pull away, about to ask why he isn’t even moving. Before a business trip, he’d make sure to remind you how much he loves you– But right now he can’t even keep eye contact with you.

“I’m not in the mood.” He mutters, and you swear you hear your heart break. It feels like this confirms all of your fears and doubts. You just know you’re frustrated. You get off him, and without even thinking twice, you blurt out,

“Are you cheating on me?” Which makes his eyes go wide. He looks at you, offended that you’ve asked that question. As if he hasn’t given you reasonable doubt. But even though the question lingers in your mind, you regret the words that leave your lips.

“How dare you?” He immediately replies, and you feel the urgent need to apologize for what you asked. You still want an answer that’s not his offense. Even though his response should give you an answer, you’re still wanting to hear him deny it.

“You’ve been acting weird– I don’t know what to think.” You try to justify yourself, as Satoru stands up from the couch.

“What? I told you I’m busy with work! But your first thought is that I’m–” Satoru finds himself yelling, and he stops himself. He takes a deep breath to not be too rash. He’s upset, but he won’t yell at you. “I love you so much, why would you even say that? I’ve done nothing but be loyal and cherish you but you’re–”

“You’re acting weird, Satoru! I– I’m sorry that I even suggested that but you’re acting really weird.” You’re tripping over your words, getting nervous during your confrontation. This is something that can completely ruin a relationship, you should’ve bit your tongue and held back on asking the question. 

“I can’t even look at you.” He mutters, walking away from you. He’s heading toward the front door, and you can’t stop him. You want to tell him to stop, you can figure this out; however, your voice gives out. Maybe deep down you know that you don’t have to apologize for anything. 

The feeling lingers, deep down you know you’re right. 

You allow yourself time to think. Time away from Satoru to decide what you want to do with your relationship. Work keeps you busy, but it reminds you of him. You met with him through your work, you were hired to accompany him on a trip and he kept flirting with you until he mustered up the courage to ask you out.

You’re wondering if maybe your work is the reason why he’s acting like this. Maybe you’re overthinking that he’s distant, and he’s actually just worried that someone else will woo you. You’ll think of anything to excuse his behavior, anything to stay on cloud nine when it comes to your fiancé. 

During your time away you reflect on your relationship. You need to have a serious chat with Satoru, something that you’ve been holding off on. You don’t want to have tough conversations in fear of hurting him, but it’s hurting your relationship.

You’re losing sleep over your issues, and you can’t stay away for another day. You’re going home early to try and fix your relationship problems, because you won’t be able to properly rest if you don’t fix it. 

Luckily, the lights are on when you come home. You’ll be able to speak with him immediately. You hope that by next week this will all be something that you laugh at. Alas, you know that you’ll need to put in a little more work. 

You walk into your place, leaving your luggage in your car. You want to talk to Satoru as fast as you can. 

You expect to find him in the kitchen, cooking something for himself since Satoru tends to try to make himself something when he’s free. But you guess you’re a little late. It’s past dinner time, he’s not in the kitchen… But he did leave a mess. You’re about to walk past it and check for him in the bedroom, but your eyes fixate on the sink.

Two glasses of wine. One has a red lipstick stain. The son of a bitch lied to you– No, maybe you’re overthinking. Perhaps he invited his mother over for dinner. He’s probably upstairs, too tired to clean up after himself so he left the mess for the morning.

You take a deep breath, using all your might to move your feet. You have to go upstairs to talk to him. You pray that you find him sleeping so you can avoid this whole situation right now– Or that the scene that plays in your mind isn’t happening.

Satoru is loyal to you. Satoru is loyal. You keep repeating the words to yourself as you walk upstairs. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest with every step. You’re getting sweaty, and thinking of the worst when you’re standing outside the closed bedroom door.

You hear it, and your heart breaks. You’re fidgeting with your fingers as you press your ear against the door to listen better. It’s his voice… It’s Satoru. Your Satoru. The same man that got defensive when you confronted him about his loyalty.

A man that you’ve loved so dearly for years, has betrayed you in the worst way possible.

But maybe, just maybe, you’re getting this whole situation wrong. You refuse to cry when you’re probably misreading this situation. Perhaps he’s just watching some explicit videos on his phone, something to kill his loneliness. You crack the door open, and you want to puke at the scene. 

A gasp leaves your lips, as if you’re surprised by it all. As if you didn’t already feel this was happening. Tears well your eyes, quickly spilling and falling down your face. He’s not only betraying you, but doing it on your own bed as if it were nothing. The bed that you’ve laid down beside him and shared so many intimate moments.

You make eye contact for a split second before you look at her. The woman that was always so sickly sweet with you is in bed with your fiancé. You always knew that there was something up with her, there was no plausible reason for her to be so nice. You brought up your concerns with Satoru, and he brushed them off.

“You two can go to hell.” You yell, remembering the words that Satoru always told you: She’s no one important, she won’t last long in the company or something along those lines. And yet here she is. You’re holding your breath, unable to exhale until you finally turn around. You hear Satoru call out your name as you begin to walk away.

You try to hold back on crying now, you don’t want to look pathetic in front of them. You’ll simply leave, even though he calls out your name to talk to you. The man that you swore you’d love for the rest of your life has made a fool out of you. With his secretary of all people… How cliché. 

“It isn’t what it seems!” Satoru is yelling, trying to catch up to you. You take a swift look at him, rolling your eyes. At least he has clothes on now, that’s an improvement. 

You don’t want to entertain him, you just head to the front door as Satoru mutters out baseless apologies. You don’t want to hear it, he’s just spewing whatever to get you to stay. Your hand lands on the cold doorknob, and before you get to turn it, his hand lands on your wrist.

“Please let me explain.” There’s desperation in his eyes, something that would’ve made you drop everything and tend to him ten minutes ago. Right now your blood is boiling, and the only sight that you want to see is a bloody Satoru lying down on the floor– It’s extremely unlike you, but you guess your thoughts won’t be too normal after finding out your fiancé balls deep into his secretary.

“Fuck you, Satoru. Fuck you and your secretary–” You begin before a loud laugh leaves your lips. It’s rare that you curse, but you can’t hold back now. You truly mean it, never in your life do you want to see the man that stands before you. You were ready to devote your entire life to him; yet, this is how he repays you. “I guess you already did, didn’t you?”

“Please, it was nothing.” He tries to explain which makes you scoff. You pry his hand off your wrist and open the door.

“I’m coming to get my stuff tomorrow while you work. I’ll leave the engagement ring on your nightstand.” You tell him before walking away, leaving him behind to yell your name. He mindlessly calls out to you, hoping that you come back to talk to him, but you don’t dare to look back at him. 

That concludes your relationship of years with Satoru. A few minutes of pleasure were worth ruining your four year long relationship, and an eternity together. You wipe away the tears that leave your eyes, trying to not feel bad about it. After all, Satoru made his bed, and you can’t change anything about it.

Satoru tries to contact you more times than you can count, which results in him being blocked everywhere. You don’t want to speak to him ever again. You spoke to his parents one last time, and explained everything to them before closing that chapter of your life. You want to completely forget that Satoru Gojo ever existed in your life. In your mind, you want it to be as if you never crossed paths.

You had two weeks of dwelling in sorrow, pitying yourself for your ex-fiancé’s actions before school started. Going back to teach English was actually going to be more helpful to you than you thought. The students keep you busy, managing to push away any dark thoughts from your mind.

You find the school to be a safe space from all the drama that surrounds your life. You don’t have to worry about Satoru trying to get you to communicate with him, and you know that he won’t dare to show up at your work. The idiot somehow found out where you live, and he’s been attempting to send you flowers or other romantic deliveries that quickly get turned down or end up in the trash. 

You hate the turn of events. You were practically begging for a more eventful life since everything had suddenly become so dull– How you regret wanting that change. Yet you guess it’s better like this. You should be grateful that you found Satoru’s true colors before it was too late. 

“There’s someone that wants to talk to you… He’s at your desk.” Your coworker warns you as you walk to the office. You furrow your brows, picking up the unsureness in her voice.

It’s been nearly two months since everything happened, so Satoru is the last thing on your mind. So you don’t have a problem walking to the office, assuming that it’s a student that is seeking help. Though you’re not too sure about it since most of them are supposed to be in class.

A scoff leaves your mouth when you enter the office and you see the man that you’ve been avoiding for the past two months. As you watch him lean over your desk and inspect every little gadget that’s on it, you realize it’s a miracle that he hasn’t shown up at your door to beg for forgiveness.

He hasn’t realized that you’re in the same room, so you have two options: turn around and pretend like you were never here, or confront him. You want to turn around and avoid him. And you will. But just as you turn on your heel to leave, he calls out your name. 

“Can we talk?” Satoru asks, clearly desperate to explain everything to you… But what is there to explain? No matter the reason, what he did is unforgivable.

You want to yell at him, and tell him to get out of your life forever. But your coworkers are standing around and you don’t want to cause a scene. You have to swallow the sharp words that rest at the tip of your tongue. You choose a more professional way to deliver your message,

“Mr. Gojo, please stop contacting me. Next time I receive some sort of message from you, I’ll be forced to file a restraining order.”

He calls out to you again, but you don’t acknowledge him in any way. Your coworkers stare at him, wondering what happened between the two of you, but no one is bold enough to actually ask. For your ex-fiancé to show up at your work to talk, and refusing to speak to him is no small feat. Regardless, no one will ask you and no one is going to dare to speak to the man.

They don’t get a chance either way, Satoru quickly walks out of the office after checking his phone, leaving the place behind. Leaving too many questions unanswered.

“What do you need?” Satoru answers the phone with attitude when he gets into his car. He’s too annoyed to deal with anything else, especially with her. The woman that he broke things off with immediately, yet she won’t leave him alone for some reason. 

For some reason, as if he hadn’t started an emotional affair with her– Sure, for him it was purely physical but for her it seems like feelings developed. Even though he tried to fire her (which didn’t work out since she threatened to sue due to an inappropriate workplace relationship with a very clear power imbalance), she keeps trying to call him and act as if their relationship hasn’t ended. 

“When are we meeting again?” She acts as if nothing happened. Her voice is so irritating to him, it’s become one of his most hated sounds. He rolls his eyes when he hears her speak, and he has to sigh. He can’t get rid of her completely, as much as he wants to. 

“Please refrain from calling me unless there’s a work emergency.” Satoru tries to remain calm. He’s not going to waste his energy by losing his cool on her. By keeping things professional, he hopes that she’ll take a hint and leave him alone. But he’s not so lucky, he’s getting extremely bad karma for his actions. “Is there anything else? I’m busy.”

“We– We have to talk.” She sounds hesitant, though Satoru doesn’t really care. If she wants to never speak again, he’d be overjoyed. 

“What is it?” He asks, hoping that it’s something she can say over the phone. He wants to meet as little as possible with her. The line is quiet for a minute before she says,

“Can we please meet in person?” She questions, making Satoru scoff. No way in hell will he willingly meet up with her. His response gives her the answer she needs. She knows he’ll hang up soon so she blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”

“Huh?” His eyes go wide as he processes the words that he just heard. Pregnant? No, that can’t be, he’s always been so careful with her. He ensured she was on birth control and he always made sure to wear a condom. A pregnancy shouldn’t even be possible. “What– You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“I– I’m not. I wish I was.” He can almost hear the smirk that’s on her lips. She tries to act like this is something bad, but he can hear that this is ideal for her. “I swear I’m not lying.”

“What the fuck?” Satoru is pinching the bridge of his nose as he wonders how the hell this happened. He still can’t believe her, and he won’t until he sees a test result right in his face. One that he sees her take.

He absolutely can’t trust her with anything.

Satoru finally decides to leave you alone for the first time in months. You’re still on his mind, but he has bigger issues to deal with right at this moment. Somehow, someway, he’s becoming a father. This wasn’t in the cards for him, especially with someone that isn’t you. 

“What do you think about going shopping for baby clothes tomorrow?” She’s resting her head on his lap, talking like she usually does when she’s with him. He’s engrossed with his phone, creating a new account to check up on your social media. Satoru’s given you space since he has a girlfriend now. 

He’s not sure if he’s a coward or what, but he can’t do much. He got someone pregnant, so he’s forced to step up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but he isn’t the type of man that’s going to leave his child behind. But he’s for sure the man that secretly looks at his ex’s social media. 

“Satoru, are you listening?” He hears, and he hums in response. Though he’s not too enthusiastic, which makes her sigh. She raises her head from his lap and squints her eyes as she looks at him. She doesn’t have to look at his phone to know.

She snatches the phone out of his head and tosses it to the side, making a frown appear on his face. He’s about to protest but she gets on top of him, cupping his face. “You know… I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” Satoru can’t make eye contact with her. He feels guilty by just looking at her. Not because he feels like he owes her anything, but because by looking at her he’s reminded of you. You two would’ve been married now. 

“Baby, stop thinking of her.” She says, going down to peck his lips. The sentence would’ve driven any other woman mad, but that’s her reality. It’s been her reality since the beginning, ever since she decided to sleep with a man that was in a relationship. “I saw her last night.”

“Where?” A sudden spark appears in his eyes which ticks her off. She has to pretend like she doesn’t see it.

“She was out with some man.” She’s fighting off a smirk, she can’t seem wicked in front of Satoru. Though watching his expression darken satisfies her. “She’s moved on, you can move on as well.”

“I guess.” Satoru is vulnerable, weak enough to believe anything that goes past him. As long as he gets to hear about you, he doesn’t care if a statement is true or false. Though he doesn’t like the news he’s receiving. “Are you sure it was her though?”

“Yeah. I know so. She’s hard to confuse with someone else.” She answers, and Satoru clenches his jaw. Perhaps it was just a male friend, no one that you’re interested in romantically… Though he did the same thing, and this is where it landed him. “I’m here for you, baby. Me and our baby.”

She grabs his hand and places it on her small bump, reminding him that they’re bound together for life. Satoru is biting down his lip, jealousy consuming him at the mere thought of you with someone else. He almost wants to get back at you. As if you’d get hurt by what he does or doesn’t do. You’ve moved on from him, you clearly don’t care about what he does. 

Satoru knows that he’s lost you, he doesn’t win anything by not giving in. He is touch deprived, desperate to feel something more. He’s already sacrificed so much for the few moments of pleasure that the woman in front of him gave him, what’s one more time?

Her lips land on his again, and he doesn’t fight it. But he also doesn’t kiss her back. The situation reminds him of the last time that you made a move on him and he rejected you. He’s so close to shutting his eyes and listening to his dick, but he almost pukes when an image of you pops up into his head.

He can’t do it, not even when he’s trying to get back at you. It’s his bad karma. He ends up pushing her away, telling her, “It’s best if we don’t.”

“What’s the harm in it?” She’s annoyed that he pushes her away. He’s not wrapped around her finger like she thought.

“I’m not in the mood.” He takes a firm stance, and she tries to remain calm. She opens her mouth to speak but Satoru clears his throat, “I think it’s best if we stop whatever we’re doing here. It’s not healthy.”

“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows. Satoru takes a deep breath, thinking of how to land the blow. He knows that she won’t be too delighted, but does he really care about her feelings?

“If we’re going to have some sort of relationship, it’s only a co-parenting one. I’m not interested in anything else.” He says, and she begins to laugh as if it’s some kind of joke. Though it fades when she realizes that Satoru has a stoic expression on his face. He couldn’t be more serious.

“Satoru, I am carrying your baby. You can’t be serious.” She makes a big show of it, putting her hand on her bump. She wants to make it as clear as she can that she’s expecting his child. 

“Which is why we’ll co-parent. Other than that, I’m not interested.” He responds, and her hands ball up into fists. She doesn’t understand. He’s already lost everything, what’s the harm of being with her now? He should move on since you clearly don’t care about him.

“What is wrong with you?” She asks, completely offended. How could he not want her? He’s risked everything to be with her, but when he actually can be, he refuses. “We’re having a baby, you’re not with her anymore– We can finally be together.”

“I don’t want to be with you. It’s simple.” Satoru answers, and before a major argument ensues, he stands up. He begins to walk to the door, leaving her behind to yell at the wall. He knows arguing is senseless.

If she wants to escalate the situation, he’s more than willing to settle everything in court.

Satoru is trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s becoming a father, and you aren’t the mother. His secretary is six months along, and time is flying by. The day that his baby is born is getting closer, and he has to come to terms with it soon.

His parents aren’t thrilled by this. They love his son, but they hate that this is the result of an act of betrayal. They dreamed of becoming grandparents but the situation was much different than this. They’ve made their feelings clear to Satoru, but Satoru couldn’t care less. He has his own feelings to account for. 

Satoru has his own weird feelings and behaviors to deal with. Like camping in his car, and waiting outside your apartment. He wants to see if you’re actually seeing someone else. With all his other issues, he’s been limited in time. He’s only been able to check up on you through social media, and you haven’t been posting which means he has no way of checking on you. He can’t contact your friends without getting cursed out, and he can’t just reach out to you to ask. Therefore he only has one way to check up on you; even if it’s creepy.

You leave the house at around 8:00 PM, and he’s on the move. You take a cab, and he follows you to a nice restaurant. Outside of it you meet a man. Satoru squints, trying to see every detail of this man. Perhaps it’s some relative that you’ve decided to meet outside a very expensive restaurant. Who is he fooling? You’re clearly on a date.

He still exits the car and enters the restaurant. It’s unlikely for him to get in without a reservation, but luckily Satoru is influential– Even when he isn’t well known, he has money to spare. 

He convinces the hostess to give him a table near your own, but your back is turned to him so you don’t see him at any time. He’s listening in, and he feels like a psycho for even being here but he has no other option. It’s a one off situation, a confirmation that you’ve actually moved on before he finally lets you go for good.

He doesn’t know why his heart hurts so much as he hears you laugh with someone else. He fuels with jealousy as he hears the dumb conversation that you two have. You don’t even sound entertained, but Satoru feels his eye twitch. He can’t just pop up at your table and ask you to speak, you’ll for sure ask him for a restraining order.

It’s best if he just leaves, it’s clear that you’re going out with someone else. He can’t do anything else. But just as he’s about to rise from his seat, someone catches his eye. He frowns, seeing the woman that carries his child, arms intertwined with someone else’s.

He watches attentively, trying to figure out if it’s a relative that he’s yet to hear about. He doesn’t really remember anything about his secretary… It was all sexual, and he didn’t care enough to listen to what she had to say about her life. Perhaps it’s a brother– The same stupid way that he thought you were here meeting a relative.

Satoru stands up and approaches their table, genuinely smiling as he sees them, “Good evening.”

“Satoru–” She looks astounded when she sees the man. She looks back and forth between the man that sits across from her, and Satoru. Her face grows red, knowing she’s been caught red handed. But she can play it off, she just has to control the situation before either speaks. “This is Satoru, my boss.”

“Nice to meet you, and who are you?” Satoru extends his hand for the man to take, and the man suddenly straightens his posture. She tries to speak, but Satoru directs his attention elsewhere. He doesn’t care what she has to say, he’s not going to believe her. Satoru doesn’t hear a name from the man, he blocks out everything except the vital word: fiancé.

“Well we– We… We were taking a break for some months and we’re back together now.” She attempts to play it off, and Satoru smirks. Right. As if he was dumb enough to buy it.

“We have a lot to talk about on Monday. Dinner’s on me tonight, enjoy it.” Satoru is sickly sweet with them, overjoyed by what he found out. He walks from the table and breathes a sigh of relief. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He just has to take one DNA test to prove that he isn’t the father, and he’s free of her. 

He’s upset to find that you’re not alone romantically, but he’s overjoyed by the news he’s just found out. He might not be becoming a father like he thought.

After finding out about Satoru’s betrayal, you thought you’d never move on. A man that you were ready to devote your life to, threw everything away for no apparent reason– You never asked why, but you don’t care either way. A year later you’re thriving without him, and with a man that makes you happy.

The perfect man that sends you flowers to work weekly even though you’ve been dating for almost a year. A man that’s open to communication, handsome, hilarious and to top it off you have great sex with. You’re still not sure if Akito is the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but you’re pretty comfortable by his side. After all, he fills in all the checkmarks.

You’re preparing dinner with him tonight, singing along to one of your favorite songs as you chop some vegetables and he pours you something to drink. As the song and your voice drowns out, you bite down your lip and you prepare yourself to speak. You've had something in your mind for a while, but you’ve been too nervous to say it.

“I think I’m going to leave the agency.” You tell him, as he slides you a glass of your beverage. He continues his task without saying anything, and you feel the need to explain yourself. “I hate leaving on business trips every now and then. I just want to focus on teaching.”

“I get it.” Akito sounds unphased, and it bothers you. You feel his arms as he hugs you from behind before kissing your cheek. You bite down your tongue, unsure as to why you’re annoyed by this. He should be thrilled since it means that you’ll be around more often. 

“Is that all?” You ask, and he hums in response. He lets go of you and grabs a pan to begin his part of the dinner.

“Won’t you miss traveling? You’re going to lose touch with some of your languages.” He finally says, and you purse your lips together. You’re not satisfied by the response. Satoru would’ve reacted differently– No, you can’t compare him to Satoru. Akito would never betray you like Satoru did.

“I can always travel in my free time. Plus, it’d be more enjoyable since I don’t have to worry about work.” You respond, and he hums again. You compare him to Satoru once more in your head, before changing the topic. You can’t compare him to Satoru; after all, they’re on very different levels.

“Hey!” An all too familiar voice calls out your name when you walk into the school. You begin to walk faster to the building, not wanting to speak to a ghost from your past. It’s been well over a year since the last time you saw him, and you intend to keep it that way. 

You know he’s following after you, and he’s quickly catching up because of his damn long legs. Just as you’re about to enter the building, he grabs your arm, stopping you from going inside and avoiding him. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you look back at him and look into his regretful blue eyes– And your heart skips a beat like the first time.

“May I help you?” You ask, averting your gaze as guilt quickly consumes you. It immediately feels as if you’re cheating on your boyfriend.

“I heard that you’re not working with us anymore and–” Satoru is stumbling over his words, getting nervous. He should probably ask how you are first, or any other small talk but he knows it won’t help in this situation. He can’t waste a single second. “Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know I did with our relationship… But you’re leaving your job as a translator for–”

“Mr. Gojo, my decision is frankly none of your business. The last time we talked was over a year ago, you have little to no influence in my decisions.” You answer, and he gives you a weak nod. “Did you come all the way here just to ask me that?”

“I would feel like shit if I knew I did something else to make you quit… But I guess you wouldn’t leave the agency just because of me.” He runs a hand through his hair, giving it away that he’s nervous. You feel your face get warm, feeling giddy knowing that you make him feel nervous. But you quickly try to shake away those thoughts. 

“I just want to focus on teaching. That chapter of my life is over…” You explain, although you don’t have the need to. “How did you even find out?”

“Heard from a friend of a friend.” He responds before an awkward silence ensues. He should probably speak, but what would he even say? Hey so you remember my secretary, right? The one I cheated on you with? Well she got pregnant and made me believe that it was my baby but it totally wasn’t. That won’t make for great conversation, and frankly it would earn him a punch in the face.

“Will you let go of my arm?” You ask him, and he looks down to see his hand holding your wrist. He nods and lets go of you, muttering an apology for it. You take a good look at his face before turning around to go inside.

“Can we go grab a coffee soon? I’ve been getting counseling and I want to have at least one last conversation with you before moving on.” He says which makes you stop in your tracks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about it… 

Maybe it’s what you need. One last conversation with Satoru will confirm your feelings for Akito. It’ll help you move on to the next chapter of your life with your amazing boyfriend. Not getting closure from Satoru is what’s holding you back .

“Are you free after four?” You ask him, and his eyes widen before quickly nodding.

Satoru frantically looks around the café, trying to find a sign of you anywhere. It’s five after four, and he’s sure that you’ve stood him up. He’s a nervous wreck as he waits for you. This is what he considers his last conversation with you, and he knows that once you get to the café, his time with you is limited.

He shouldn’t be too upset about it since you haven’t spoken in a while, but knowing that it’s the last time you’ll talk still stings. He dwells on his decisions, regretting everything he’s done that’s led to this. If only he could go back in time, he’d beat himself up for making such a stupid decision. He let go the love of his life, all for nothing.

He zones out, thinking about you. A warm smile comes to his face as he remembers every tiny detail of you and of your relationship. His times with you were some of the happiest of his life, and his stupid self just had to screw that up. 

A snap of a finger brings him back to reality, and he’s overjoyed when he finds you standing in front of him. You bite down your lip as you see your order resting on the table. At least he remembered that.

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as you sit across from him. You try to act indifferent. As if this doesn’t matter to you at all. You’re here to do him a favor, at least that’s what you’ll make it seem.

“How are you?” He won’t get to the point as easily as he did earlier. He slides your drink, hoping that you’ll take it without a second thought.  You glance at it, but you don’t take it into your hands immediately. 

“I’m great.” You respond, not asking anything back because you don’t want to seem like you care about him even though you do. You’ve been wondering for days on end how Satoru is holding up. Wondering if he’s moved on, if he’s with his secretary or whatnot. “So you’ve been getting counseling.”

“It’s been a rough year.” He chuckles, and you give him a subtle nod. You can relate, but your year has gotten progressively better. You’re happy with where you are. “You’re always on my mind but now more than ever.”

“I would say I’m flattered but… I’m not sure.” You confess with an awkward laugh. He agrees. 

“I haven’t gotten to properly apologize, and I need to do it to move on.” Satoru begins, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I threw away our relationship for nothing. You were the best thing to happen to me, and I messed that up.”

“Yeah…” You feel yourself get emotional, tears welling up in your eyes as you hear the apology. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear it. You thought that never talking to Satoru again would fix your issues, but you feel so much weight lifted from you as you hear his apology. 

You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You won’t begin to cry in front of him. 

“Why did you do it?” You blurt out, wanting an answer for the reason why he betrayed you. You’ve come to terms that it isn’t for your fault, but you still want to know what prompted him to make that decision.

He stays quiet, which makes you ask, “Did I do something?... Was I not enough in that sense?”

“No! No, you’ve always…” Satoru begins, biting down his lip as his cheeks turn pink. It’s almost embarrassing to say out loud. “The best that I’ve ever had.”

“So, what was it?” You ask, and Satoru sighs. He doesn't really know himself. It was just something that happened and he couldn’t stop once it began.

“I’m an idiot, that’s all.” He admits, and it’s not the satisfying answer that’ll ease all of your worries. But it’s enough. “If I could go back in time, I would beat myself up for even thinking about it.”

“I would too.” You joke, and he chuckles in response. He’d deserve it. “But I guess I’m happy you did it. I’m happy with where I’m at now.”

“Really?” He raises a brow, and you nod, further confirming your words. He looks into your eyes, knowing that you don’t mean it. It’s so easy for him to read you. Maybe it’s because you’re with him, and there’s no way that you’d feel happy sitting across your ex-fiancé who betrayed you, but you don’t look happy. That spark that appears in your eyes when you’re overjoyed with your life isn’t there. “I heard you’ve moved on.”

“Yeah. I’m with this guy named Akito. I met him through work.” You share, and Satoru can’t help but furrow his brows. 

“Did you meet through the agency or–”

“The school. His nephew is in my class and we met through a parent teacher conference, since the parents couldn’t show up.” You explain. You finally grab the beverage that Satoru gave you and you begin to drink it. Conversation begins to flow smoothly, and you change to a more lighthearted topic.

You laugh nonstop for almost an hour. Satoru has a lot of flaws, but he knows damn well how to make you laugh. You completely forget that you’ve had a tumultuous past with him. The man in front of you isn’t the man that betrayed you, but simply an old friend that knows you better than anyone.

Though your loving conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you check the time and you realize that you have to go back home soon. You cut him off as he speaks, telling him, “I should get going.”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” He responds as he checks his watch. He got a little carried away, but you didn’t seem to mind. You’re about to stand up, but you take a moment to stare at him.

You bite your tongue, wondering if you should tell him what’s on your mind. Satoru is fun to have around, even if he isn’t your boyfriend or anything like that.

“We should do this again sometime. You might not be the best partner but you make a great friend.” You comment as you stand up. You’re about to walk away, but his voice stops you.

“I can’t.” He says, which takes you back. You’re a bit confused by his response– Is he dating someone? Is that why he can’t become friends with you? No, he wouldn’t have insisted on apologizing if he was seeing someone else. Sure, it gives him ease of mind but Satoru wouldn’t.

Before you can question it, he confesses, “I’m in love with you. I can’t be friends with you while you’re with someone else.” 

“Oh–” Your stomach drops at the confession and your breath hitches. Out of all things he could’ve said, he said that. You open your mouth but quickly close it because you can’t say anything. You’re speechless. You point to the door and say, “I have to go.”

All the weight that was lifted off your shoulders after your conversation with Satoru, quickly comes back. You’re laying down next to your boyfriend who sleeps so peacefully beside you. He asked to spend the night and you couldn’t refuse. Yet tonight you keep glancing over, and wondering if you’re happy next to him.

You’re comfortable. Akito is a great man and you can see him being with you for the rest of your life. But do you love him? You knew you loved Satoru within a month of dating him, but you’ve been with Akito for a year, and you’re not sure about your feelings

You just want to curse Satoru out for putting you in this situation. You shouldn’t be questioning your feelings for your boyfriend. You’re happy, that’s enough.

You shut your eyes and lay on your side, trying to fall asleep. You aren’t going to question your feelings for your boyfriend because of Satoru. It’s all some dumb tactic to question your feelings. Satoru knew damn well that showing up at your work, and asking you to coffee will make your feelings come back–

Your eyes snap open as you realize that you’re still in love with Satoru.

“What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” Akito speaks up, and from the sound of his voice you know that he’s been awake this whole time. You’ve been squirming, trying to find the right position that will get the unwelcome thoughts out of your head. You sit up on your bed, reaching over to turn on the light.

“I think we have to talk…” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up as well. You told him that you met up with Satoru, something that he had no issue with until now. Now, he’s absolutely worried. With one swift look at him, he knows. He’s gotten to know you better than you know him.

“I should’ve known.” He chuckles, getting out of bed.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, and he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize for it. You can’t control it.” He says as he begins to get changed in front of you. “It hurts like a bitch but at least we only wasted a year.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, burying your face into your hands. “I didn’t think this would happen. He’s hurt me so much and I–”

“It’s not something you can control, so I’m not mad.” He reassures you, but no amount of reassuring is going to make you feel better for what you’re doing to him. 

After breaking up with Akito, you take a week to decide on what you actually want to do. You love Satoru, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should be together. You come to the conclusion that you want to try one last time; you’ve already wasted four years on him, would it hurt to waste some more time?

You contact him first, and you agree to take things slow. So painfully slow for Satoru, but he’ll take all that you’ll give him. He understands why you don’t want to rush things, so he isn’t annoyed by the fact that your relationship progresses slowly– But he’ll admit he’s tired of using his hand all the time.

A year after reconciling, you leave Satoru high and dry. The most you do is make out, and just when you’re moving to the next base, things come to a stop. You go back home, not even accepting the offer to cuddle. 

But tonight is the night, Satoru feels it in the air.

He’s cleaning up after cooking you a decent meal while you do something. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but he’s happy as long as you’re near. He couldn’t care less if you’re snooping around or stuffing something into your pockets to take back to your own place. 

“Satoru!” You yell, making the man nearly drop a plate. He bites down his lip, knowing that you’re in the bedroom. This is it, he’s sure. But he still has to clean up… Screw it. He can clean up in the morning.

“I’m coming!” He yells, putting the plate down in the sink and nearly running to the bedroom to go after you.

He finds you sitting on the bed, a smile on your face. This is it. 

You stand up, taking a couple of steps toward him before your hands meet behind his neck. You kiss his lips as Satoru’s hands go straight to your ass– That’s the most you’ve let him do. Poor guy has suffered enough, at the very least he can squeeze your butt to deal with this torment.

“What do you think if we–” You begin, and he frantically nods which makes you giggle.

You pull away from him, not allowing him to help as you take off your clothes. His hands go to your hips, but they’re quickly slapped away. You don’t need any help, but he doesn’t mind. Even when you take things so slow tonight. He’s not mad that you’re doing things slow tonight, he’s been waiting for so long to feel you, so he’ll appreciate every second of it. 

Satoru knows that he loves you, but staring at your beauty like this just confirms it more than ever. What a fool he was to even reject you once. And he almost hits himself as you get naked in front of him. How dare he?

Satoru helps you onto the bed before pecking your lips. Satoru begins to hungrily kiss down your neck, going down to your breasts. His tongue rolls around your nipple sucking. His soft hand caresses your thigh, the mere act making you squeeze your legs together. He hums against your nipple, something that earns a moan from you. A simple moan that nearly makes the man come in his pants… He’s needed you for so long.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says when he unlatches from your nipple. He kisses your breasts before going down and kissing your stomach, praising just how beautiful and perfect you are. He’s never been as lucky as tonight– Or well, the night that you decided to give him another chance.

He kisses down until he reaches your cunt, a smirk on his lips but he won’t spread your legs apart just yet. He begins to kiss your thick thighs, the sudden urge to bite down consuming him. It’s just a tiny bite that makes a small cry come from your lips. But you don’t stop him because it feels so good. He licks his lips, looking at his late night meal. 

His head goes down, tongue licks up your folds, almost going insane at the taste of you on his tongue. Satoru spits on your cunt before his lips go to your clit, a moan leaving your lips as you feel his warm mouth on you. 

“Oh, daddy. It’s so good.” Your moans sound like music to his ears. He’s sure he’s enjoying this more than you, even when you begin to moan daddy in total pleasure, he’s sure that he’s missed this more.

Satoru’s mouth kisses your clit before detaching, his tongue going down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy. He teases it, while his thumb plays with your clit. He’s already driving you insane, doing everything that he knows drives you insane. He wants your body to feel like it’s on ecstasy. He needs you to think of him and only him when you need some relief.

His tongue goes back up to your clit, circling around it while his fingers gather your slick.  He pushes two fingers in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. They’re just so thick and long, it’s hard for you to contain yourself. You can’t help but moan, “It’s so good, daddy!”

It encourages him even more. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making you get even louder than before. Your voice is like music to his ears, and he wants to keep hearing it so he’ll do anything and everything to get a reaction from you. He remembers your body better than he expected, though he doubts that it’s something that he’ll ever forget.

He makes it clear how much he loves eating your pussy, moaning against your cunt with every lap of his tongue. Your thighs squeeze around him as you get lost in your own feelings of satisfaction. He’s going crazy. He can die happily right here.

You’re getting louder as pressure builds up on your lower abdomen, your climax approaching. Satoru feels you squeeze around him, fulfilling him. He’s completing his duty. A duty he should’ve been doing over the years.

He’s glad he’s back in between your legs, tasting you on his tongue. There’s no sweeter melody than you moaning in complete pleasure because of him. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reach your peak, but that doesn’t stop Satoru. He takes his fingers out but his tongue keeps lapping at your cunt, running through your folds but mainly focusing on your clit. 

Satoru isn’t stopping until he’s satisfied, which makes you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away. He whines but it doesn’t take him too long to kiss up your body until he reaches your lips. He pecks your lips over and over again until you put your hand over his mouth to stop him. 

“I need you so bad, Satoru.” You tell him, and Satoru doesn’t waste a second. He gets undressed in less than thirty seconds, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. He spits on your cunt before running the tip of his cock through your folds before teasing your entrance. You’re not one for begging, but you’re nearly begging the man to put it in. You’re desperate. “I need to feel you, daddy. Please, please, please! I need it.”

Satoru is dying inside because he doesn’t feel you around him. He needs you more than you need him. Right now. Always. Satoru pushes himself in, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he feels you around him. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. He begins with slow thrusts, one hand on your plush thigh while the other is on your hip. “I missed you so much.”

His eyes are glued to your face of pleasure, and the look on your face drives him weak. You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s crazy for him that you’re actually with him. Satoru moans your name before biting down his lip. He doesn’t want to be too loud, he’ll just look pathetic.

“Right there–” You moan as he begins to pick up speed. His cock hits every right spot, and it won’t take too long for you to reach your peak again after your first orgasm. It feels like he’s doing everything to drive you over the edge, and you can’t complain.

You’re squeezing around his cock, and he feels like this is an out of body experience with how good he feels. His nails are digging into your soft skin as he tries to contain himself. The hand that’s on your hip goes to your clit, he wants to ensure you orgasm again before he finishes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says. You hate the fact that no one will ever please you the way Satoru does. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why you’re getting back together. He goes just at the right speed, filling you with so much pleasure. Satoru does everything in his power to fulfill you.

You’re coating his cock with your juices, moaning loudly as your second orgasm of the night slowly gets the best of you. Perhaps it’s your high talking, but you’re so glad you took him back, and that you’re having sex with him tonight. You have no idea for how much longer you could’ve gone without him. 

“Oh daddy– I’m gonna–” You begin to announce but before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you. You drive him absolutely insane, how could he have ever screwed things up so badly?

“Can I–” He begins as his thrusts get sloppy, surprised that he’s lasted this long. You couldn’t give him a more resounding yes.

He swore he was done for when you got naked in front of him. He’s moaning, feeling too good as you’re wrapped around him. He can never go so long without you again– In every manner, truly.

Satoru comes to a stop deep inside of you, grunting before filling you up with his cum. He remains buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. When he pulls out, he lays down beside you.

He brings you into his warmth as he kisses your forehead over and over again. Words can’t even describe how he feels as he lays down beside you. He’s needed this for longer than he thought.

He kisses the tip of your nose before saying, “I’ve missed this so much. You’re so perfect.”

Giving Satoru another chance was one of the best decisions that you could’ve made. Though things took a while to come together, and you don’t blindly trust him like you once did, your relationship is nearly perfect. Sure, Satoru has his flaws but you’re over the moon while you’re at his side.

Things took a while to start up, but then things escalated fast. By a year and five months you were engaged. By two years you were married, which made everyone happy; especially his parents who have always seen you as a daughter. And now after three years, you’re pregnant with your first child.

You’re six months along, expecting a healthy baby. You and Satoru came to an agreement to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, which does cause you to bicker since you think you’re expecting a boy and he badly wants a baby girl. He swears he’s happy regardless.

You’re happy your relationship isn’t stale, like it once was. Truly, every day by Satoru’s side is magical. Though right now…

“Are you almost ready? The venue is an hour away.” You remind Satoru as he decides which tie he wants to wear. Akito’s getting married, and although you don’t have much contact with the man, he’s invited you and Satoru to come; of course, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.

“You can’t rush beauty, my love.” Satoru jokes, making you roll your eyes. He decides to go with a navy blue tie, and he rushes to your side for you to tie it.

“If we’re late, I’m going to be so mad.” You remind him, as you tie his tie for him. You feel his hands resting on your bump, caressing the soft fabric of your dress as a subtle smile comes to his lips.

“It sounds like a dream. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” Satoru says before kissing your forehead. You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be too mad at him when he’s just trying to lighten the situation.

“Can you stop moving?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You kiss his cheek when you’re finished, turning around to walk away before being promptly stopped by Satoru. He wraps his arms around your bump, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Can’t we just stay? Watch a movie or–” He begins, and you glare back at him. “Got it, we have to go.”

“That man helped me through some of my toughest times, the least we can do is go to his wedding and give him a very expensive gift.” You lecture him, and Satoru pouts like a child that’s getting scolded. “Now hurry up.”

“See, you’re hot when you’re mad.” Satoru responds, and you glare at him as if you could kill him. He won’t lie and say it’s not a bit scary, but he’s feeling an emotion that perhaps he shouldn’t be feeling.

You begin to walk away, leaving him to finish getting ready. Even though you’re a pregnant woman, Satoru somehow manages to take longer than you to get ready.

“I love you!” He yells, hoping to calm down the anger that brews inside of you. He should know better than to mess around with your hormonal self, but Satoru can’t help his personality at times.

A sigh escapes your lips, knowing that you can’t leave him hanging as much as he’d love to.

“Love you too, Satoru!”