#a little rusty here but we are getting into the swing of things once more c:

[mari-positas]

call it what it is

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3

Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. He’s still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldn’t be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.

No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing he’s failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like he’s lost something.

Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after she’d scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin she’d flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austin—much to Joel’s surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammates’ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.

“Y’sure you don’t wanna go with your friends, kiddo?” he’d asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. “I wouldn’t mind, y’know.”

“Positive,” she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. “I’d much rather be with you, dad.”

Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.

Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked body—instead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. That’s hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighbors’ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing he’d built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.

He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.

After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own shower—much to his annoyance, it was not very much—Joel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour he’d been forced to wash himself under. Ellie’s sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as he’s about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadn’t even made coffee yet?

Now, that—that is out of the ordinary.

“Where is she?” he asks.

“Well, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,” Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesn’t quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?

Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds he’d traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. “She out back?” he questions, yanking the refrigerator door open—he tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.

“Nope.” Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, “She went to get some eggs.”

Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Jesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners,” he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. “Wait a minute.” He feels her stiffen in her chair. “Why the hell would she go get eggs when we’ve got a full basket of ‘em right here in the fridge?”

She clears her throat. “Oh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uh—she wanted some for her toast. You know, ‘cause she really likes putting honey on her toast,” she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.

Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. “Ellie?”

There’s a momentary pause. “...yeah?”

This time, Joel doesn’t bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. “Where is she?”

Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. “Hey, I already fucking told you, man.”

“Look, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when you’re lying to me.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest. “Now tell me the truth. What do you know that I don’t?”

Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. “Ugh. She made me swear not to tell you! She’ll fucking strangle me if I do—”

“Yeah, well, not if I fuckin’ strangle you first myself,” he threatens her. “M’Serious, Ellie. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“Alright, alright! Jesus,” she huffs. “She’s with Tommy. He’s been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,” she admits.

Joel’s arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. “And how long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, rigidly. There’s a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.

After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, you’d expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didn’t want you stepping foot outside the community’s gates.

“No,” he’d said. “Not happenin’. S’too dangerous.”

“But Joel—”

“I said,” he lowered his voice. “No.”

He hadn’t offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasn’t acceptable for you to do the same.

Joel hadn’t known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.

A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so he’d thought.

“How long has this been going on?” he repeats after a minute.

“C’mon, man! Haven’t I already snitched enough?”

“Ellie,” Joel bites out her name. “Tell me. How long?”

She sighs in defeat. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. “You do realize why she didn’t fucking tell you, right?”

“Don’t,” he warns her, sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.

Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.

Focus.

Now, breathe in. And breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe...

You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.

Y’squeeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.

The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.

The rifle’s recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.

“Alright, alright! Christ,” Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. “Fuckin’ calm down, Annie Oakley.”

Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that he’d set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards away—your longest shooting distance to date.

“Well?” You don’t even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump you’re perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback won’t leave a bruise. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to Joel. “How did I do?”

His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.

There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. “Please tell me I got at least one of them?”

“You got ‘em all, actually.” Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Good job, kid.”

Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. It’d taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling you—no, of reminding you, that he’s still not comfortable with it.

And perhaps he never would be.

After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you weren’t sure you would survive long enough to see.

You were indeed a kid when you’d met Tommy Miller.

Were.

Scowling up at him, you snap, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not nineteen anymore, Tommy.”

Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, “Yeah, you’re right. You definitely ain’t a kid anymore.” He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.

You relax a little and smile back at him. “Did I really get all three?”

Tommy nods. “You sure did. You’re a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with you—I didn’t expect you to be this fuckin’ good,” he admits sheepishly.

Chuckling, you scoff, “Thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment, sugar.” He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. “In fact, I’d say my work here is done.”

“Great! So when are you putting me on the roster?”

His grin instantly vanishes. “Uh, listen. About that....”

He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.

Tommy wouldn’t back out of this now—would he?

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare go back on your word, Miller,” you say, lightly poking him in the chest. “We had a deal. You said if I did well enough, you’d think about it.”

He nods in agreement. “Exactly. Said I’d think about it. And I think that puttin’ you on the roster for patrol ain’t a good idea.”

Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?

You didn’t understand.

“You just said it yourself, I’m a great shot! I’m a good on horseback, too. I’m stealthy. I’m diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “Joel would fuckin’ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttin’ you on patrol duty. Hell, he’d murder me just knowin’ we’re out here and I’m teachin’ you how to shoot. It’s a damn fuckin’ miracle he still hasn’t caught onto this, y’know.”

Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. “This is about Joel? Are you serious?”

“‘Course it is.” He pauses. “Listen, now I know the three of us had our—differences—when he first told me ‘bout you two. Still takin’ me a bit of gettin’ used to, but I can see he’s real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he won’t risk losin’ what’s most important to him. Ain’t no way in hell. He doesn’t want you out here and you know that as well as I do.” Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. “Unless he’s alright with it, I ain’t gonna put you on the roster.”

For a moment, you’re at a complete loss for words.

Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. “You can try talkin’ to him ‘bout it again if it means that much to you. Ask him—”

“Ask?” You want to laugh. You almost do. “I’m an adult, Tommy. I don’t need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Tommy smiles wryly. “Well then, if that’s the case, why are we sneakin’ around and doin’ this behind his back?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat.

Because the ramifications could be disastrous.

Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.

“Stumped you real good, didn’t I?”

Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.

Tommy’s face pales as he glances over your shoulder.

“Shit.”

There’s no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.

Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joel’s steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.

He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.

“The hell is goin’ on here?” He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. “Why the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Joel, c’mon. Take it easy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to take it easy!”

“Joel!” You reach for his arm. “Wait, it’s not his fault!”

Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. “You’ve been bringin’ her outside the gates behind my fuckin’ back for weeks, asshole?”

The panic begins to set in—he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.

“Joel! Stop! Let him go!” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. “Stop it! It’s not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!”

He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.

You’ve seen this side of him a handful of times before.

But his anger has never been directed at you.

“What?”

Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. “I asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,” you explain, hoping, praying, he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. “This was all my idea, okay? If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.”

“So you did this after I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want you out here?” Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “I had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckin’ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her to—” Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Joel. Please.” Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?

Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. “Well I’m, uh—I’m gonna head back to town,” he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll let the two of you work things out in private.” As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. “Girl’s a sharp shooter, big brother. I’d reckon she’s almost better than you.”

His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.

Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.

Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.

Unfamiliar.

Finally, you speak. “Joel, please just hear me out—”

“What the hell were you thinkin’? Or were you just not thinkin’ at all?”

“I was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.”

“You already have a fuckin’ job,” Joel reminds you.

“Making sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Don’t you believe I’m capable of doing more?”

“I don’t want you out here,” he grits through his teeth. “Capable or not, I don’t want you outside Jackson’s walls. I don’t want you on patrol and that’s fuckin’ final. You understand me?” Now it’s him who falters, and you wonder if you’re imagining things, or if that’s really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.

“That’s not your decision to make, Joel. It’s mine.”

“M’responsible for you. It’s my job to look after you—to protect you.”

Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at that precise moment when you begin to realize that he’s not angry. He’s afraid.

“Joel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,” you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. “I know you do. But you’re doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like I’m defenseless. Don’t forget, I’m a survivor too.”

“You already know how fuckin’ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raiders—”

“I can handle it,” you insist, stubbornly.

“You’d be puttin’ yourself right in harm’s way!”

You shoot back, “You mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harm’s way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?”

A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. “Christ, why are you bein’ so fuckin’ foolish? You’re just askin’ to get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself!” You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. “Just accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?”

That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge he’s been teetering on. “Then what do you fuckin’ need me for?” he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. “If you can take care of yourself, what’s the point in us bein’ together? Why are you with me?”

“Because I love you!”

As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say it’s love.

Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. It’s something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. It’s happened, though.

You love Joel Miller.

And he loves you.

He’s never told you he does, but he’s shown you.

From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when he’s buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.

“You—you what?” Joel’s whisper is hardly audible.

You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. “I love you,” you declare once more. “I’m not with you because of what you can do for me. I’m not with you because you can take care of me.” Closer. “I’m with you because I love you—because I’m in love with you, Joel.” Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. “The only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.”

His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.

“I love you,” Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadn’t said to anyone in over two decades—it feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, he’s only saying what he has known from the very start. “I love you.” His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. “M’gonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.”

He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.

Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved.

You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until they’re tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.

It isn’t until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that you’re forced to pull apart. “Don’t move,” Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.

Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. “Guess it’s about time we called this what it is, huh?”

“Guess you’re right, darlin’.” He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. “M’sorry for raisin’ my voice to you. For talkin’ to you the way I did. S’just, the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you out here scares shit out of me.” Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. “Do you really wanna do this, sweet girl?”

You nod. “Yeah. I really do.”

Joel sighs. “Can I put a condition it?”

“Depends on what that condition is.”

“I’m your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.”

You roll your eyes. “Joel.”

“At least for the first few weeks,” he bargains. “Last thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”

Knowing that would be the only way he’d have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. “Fine. We’re patrol partners.”

“Alright then.” Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. “Show me what you got, baby.”

divider credit to @/saradika 💛

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[lunaandco]

i heard from a friend of a friend

pairing: gavi x ofc

summary: ivet recovers her love for football thanks to some guys at the park. one of them wants to introduce her to a friend of his; or in which ivet meets gavi through a common friend.

taglist: @htpssgavi ; @joaosnovia

masterlist // I do not take requests

The park was just two streets away from where Ivet lived. It wasn't the aesthetic and gentrified kind of Barcelona park she had grown up around, but a gray concrete and grafittied place that boys used to skate and play football.

Ivet crossed it every day to go to work, ignoring the itch on her legs to kick the ball every time it flew past her. She had played, once upon a time, with pigtails and her older brother's second hand kits and boots, but that time was long gone. Oscar had grown out of the sport when she was around fourteen, and without him it had not been as fun for her, so she ended up dropping out too.

That didn't mean she didn't miss it, the adrenaline, the power, the skill.

She had cried like a baby when Spain lifted the Women's World Cup, watching how a bunch of girls made a dream that she thought impossible reality; she had gotten drunk with her friends when the men lifted the Eurocup.

"Careful!" a voice called, while she was crossing the park. On pure reflex, Ivet controlled the ball that was hurled at her, quickly stopping the movement. She located the owners quickly, a bunch of guys that were staring at her as if she had grown a second head.

She made the pass, missing the ball the moment it left her feet.

"Woah," the guy that recueved the ball approached her. "Do you play? We're missing one!"

Ivet bit her lower lip. The offer was everything she had wanted to hear, but a bunch of strangers, specially male strangers, made her a little bit nervous. She mentally checked what she was wearing: comfortable sweats and a pair of trainers that, while they weren't ideal, they were good enough.

"Can I play?" she asked, not believing it yet.

"Please," replied the guy. "My name is Guille. This are Rafa. Marcos..." He gave her the names of the seven guys. Ivet replied shyly with hers.

"You play in my team, Javi, you change. We play with our shirts on, they play shirtless."

"Oh, c'mon, why do I have to change?"

"Well, she's not gonna play shirtless, is she?"

Javier could not argue against that logic, and pulled off his shirt.

"Let's fucking go."

Ivet wasn't fourteen anymore. It took her a while to get used to the pace, a bit rusty from the years without playing, but catching up in no time. Football was like riding a bike, in some ways. By the time they all had to go home, Ivet was sweating a big smile stretching her face.

"Damn, girl," Guille patted her back like she was one mkre of the gang. "Come back whenever you want, this was awesome."

Ivet did.

Once she had tasted the adrenaline of football once again, it was like she could not get enough.

"You're from Barcelona, right?" Asked Guille one of those days.

"Yeah, born and rised."

"Why are you here tho? In Sevilla?" Marcos took a swing of his soda can.

"My parents found a better job here."

"Damn. It's funny, you know. We have a friend that had to move to Barna a few years ago," Guille said. Marco stepped on his foot, a wordless way to tell him to shut up. "It's like you're replacing each other."

Ivet laughed it off, and returned to the game with them.

💙❤️

"Hey, where are the others?" Ivet asked Guille as she approached the park, and only him and Marcos were there.

"We are going to play at the sports centre today," explained Guille, a guilty expression on his face. "Our friend, the one from Barcelona is visiting, so we're doing this a little bit more fancy."

"Ah."

Ivet took a step back. It stung a little bit that after half a year of playing with them, she wasnt yet part of the group enough to know about thsese kind of change of plans, but she had never met the friend from Barcelona, so she understood why she hadn't been let on what the plans were about.

One thing she didn't understand was why the friend wanted to play at the sports centre and not the park. Obviously the centre had its advantages, artificial turf, proper goal posts and a big pitch that one could rent privately, but it seemed like a lot of hassle just because.

"But.. I was kind of hoping to introduce you two, today," added Guille. "Maybe you can join us, if y'all vibe nicely."

"Ah?"

"He's picking us up in—"

A car honk interrupted Marcos' explanation. The three of them turned to the expensive looking car by the street.

"Let's go!"

Guille grabbed Ivet by the wrist and pulled her towards the guy that was hopping off the car. He was Ivet's size, with broad shoulders, thick thighs, and a confident strut.

Marcos reached him first, and they melted into a tight hug. Then it was Guille's turn, there were a lot of back pats loving insults.

"Hermano, this is the girl I told you about, Ivet."

"Nice to meet you," she said, examining the boy's face. He was handsome, a boyish smirk that reminded her of her brother in some ways, pointy teeth and a couple of small faint scars peppering his skin.

"Same. I'm Gavi."

Ah. That explained why Guille and the others were so low-key about their friend from Barcelona. He was not only living in the city, he was playing for them in first division.

Luckily for Ivet, she had seen very few matches from the men's side, not enough to get star struck meeting him. She preferred watching Barça Femení games, since they were more affordable and she had not been able to enjoy women's football when she was a kid.

"So, Guille speaks wonders of you. Are you coming to play with us tonight?" asked Gavi, giving her a shirt greeting hug.

"Uhm..." Guille and Marcos had not been very specific about that.

"Yes!" replied Marcos for her.

"Let's go then!" Gavi threw his arm around Guille's shoulder, leading them back to the car.

Ivet stopped right on her tracks.

"Uhm, wait a second. I can't..."

"What?" The three boys turned to her in tandem, as she pulled out her phone. "I need to..." she said absent mindedly, as she quickly texted her location to one of her female friends and her brother. She then walked to the front of the car and snapped a picture of the license plate.

"What on earth are you doing?" Asked Guille.

"Sending my brother the info," she replied, as she finished detailing the plans. "Have your mothers never told you not to go on stranger's cars?"

"Yeah, but we're not strangers, you don't need all that."

"Huh. That is how you get yourself kidnapped, Guille."

Gavi snorted.

"Oh, c'mon, look at me," said Gavi. "I've got like, the worst disguise to commit a crime."

"On the contrary. Who would believe my best friend if she said I was last seen with you, when we have never met before?"

"Damn," admitted Marcos. "That's a good one."

"I know."

"How do I know you're not a crazy fan ready to post everything about me on Instagram?" rebuked Gavi then, but he was smiling widely.

Ivet snorted.

"Same as I know you're not a kidnapper. Leap of faith."

Gavi snickered and opened the passenger door.

"Girls first," he told her, ignoring Guille and Marcos' protests of being relegated to the back seat.

"Thank you," she whispered, even if she would rather sit on the back seat, and be by the margins.

Gavi drove like a madman, toying with the speed limit.

"You're from Barna, no?"

"I was born in Gràcia," she said, holding to the seat as discreetly as she could, her face turning green.

"How does Marta deal with you hanging out with a pretty girl every day?" Asked Gavi then, looking at the rear mirror for a split of a second.

Ivet tensed. She knew that her gender separated from the friend group and jt made her unlikely to be fully considered one of the bros, but the reminder still stung.

"Quite well, hermano. Ivet was the one that helped me ask her out."

"Ah, joder." Gavi was silent for a beat. "All my exs would have insisted I was cheating."

"That is kind of your fault Gavito, you're such a catch you bring the paranoia in everyone," said Marcos. Ivet rolled her eyes, which only Gavi saw. He snickered tongue swiping at his teeth.

"And you? Your boyfriend is fine with all the men you hang out with?"

"I don't have a boyfriend. And if he had a problem, then he would stop being my boyfriend very quickly."

💙❤️

At the sports centre, there were more boys than Ivet knew. Friends and cousins of Gavi that didn't necessarily mingle regularly with Guille and his gang.

Ivet kept close to Guille and Marco, as all the boys went through their greetings. They don't stall too much, quickly arguing the way of making the most balanced team.

"Gavi should play with the girl," said one of the guys Ivet didn't know. "To balance things out..."

Ivet crossed her arms above her chest.

"How is that supposed to balance the team, genius?" she asked, knowing exactly why he had said that. She just wanted to see if he had the balls to admit it to her face.

"Ivet will play for my team," decided Guille, who was in the team against Gavi.

With that issue quickly resolved, Ivet watched the boys organise the teams. She purposely dropped to the background, waiting for the game to start.

Guille told her to take the left wing. Ivet hadn't play such a well structured game in years, but she adapted well to the change. Most of the boys she didn't know had ended up in Gavi's team, so she caught them by surprise, shooting a ball to the post.

Gavi, who had been relegated to goalkeeper in order to maintain the fairness of the game, cursed like a madman.

"Don't let Ivet take the ball," he kept ordering his team. It made Ivet smile as she assisted Guille's first goal.

In the end, Gavi recklessly left the goal to dribble past Guille's entire team to ensure his own victory, to which all the boys complained half-heartedly. They all knew his competitive spirit would flare up sooner or later.

💙❤️

By the tike they were all leaving the sport centre, Ivet approached Guille.

"About the money, what do I owe you guys?" she asked him. Renting a pitch on the centre meant paying quite a bit of money. Marco shrugged.

"Usually Gavi pays for it. He feels guilty that we can't play normally when he's around, so he covers the cost of his... special needs," he explained.

"We tried to pay once and he just invited us for dinner after. He does not like being denied," added Guille.

Ivet bitbher lower lip. She could understand why Gavi would pay for his firmed, but for her?

She then approached him gently. Gavi was hugging one of his cousins goodbye, so she waited at a respectful distance.

"Guille said you were good, but I fear he underrated you," told her Gavi once they were alone. She blushed.

"Thank you. What do I owe you?"

"I'm sorry?"

Ivet explained her reasoning, to which Gavi only shook his head.

"No, no, you're my friend now," he said, dropping his arm around her shoulder.

"But..."

"Unless you want to be my date. I would like that very much, there's this new coffee shop my sister says I have to try?"

"What?" Ivet stopped on her tracks, making Gavi turn to look at her directly.

"I'm asking you on a date, Ivet. You're supposed to say yes."

Ivet hesitated a bit.

"Yes?"

[riverwritez]

movie night (with the boys).

a/n: hello! I’m river (or Lilly) and I’ve written like one thing on here and plan on writing more so! It’s nice to meet you all and I hope you enjoy this and what’s to come. Also be nice, I’m really rusty with writing.

warnings: fluff, I think that’s all.

edited: a little tiny bit

matt x fem!reader.

With the boys schedule being jam packed with various different meetings, events and video plans- you and Matt rarely found time to be together besides late at night when he came home, and early mornings when you woke up for work. Especially with Nate being in town, alone time was scarce.

But you and Matt finally found a sliver of time that you guys could have a small date at the house. Just a simple movie night with snacks, and neither of you complained, just wanting to be with the other for as long as they could.

“Ok, your pick tonight, what movie are we watching?” Matt asked as he jumped over the back of the couch and settled next to you, arm around your shoulders as you placed your head on his chest.

You tapped your chin as you thought for a moment, smiling as you looked up at the man next to you. “Tangled!”

Matt shook his head as he laughed. You always chose Tangled if the offer was on the table and he never complained, finding a sense of comfort from the movie ever since you two got together.

As Matt turned the movie on, and you both got comfortable with a bowl of popcorn next to Matt and various other snacks and drinks on the table, you both heard the front door swing open.

“No dude, you definitely cheated! I would’ve won both rounds if you didn’t do the stupid granny.” Chris complained as Nate and Nick followed behind him, scoffing and arguing back at the claim.

Matt groaned as he ran a hand down his face, annoyed at the intrusion and the fact that the group obviously didn’t listen to his pleads. “Oh my fucking- Can you guys be quiet or go somewhere else? I specifically told you guys to stay out so we could have a movie night!” Matt exclaimed as the three men stood in the living room, looking at the two of you together.

“Sorry, but we can’t bowl all night, plus Nick was bored so we just got a Uber back here.” Nate explained as he walked behind Matt and looked at the screen. “Ooh! You’re watching-“

“Tangled! Oh my god!” Chris said, rushing over to the other side of the couch, grabbing a blanket and getting comfy, already having his shoes off and eyes glued to the screen. You shook your head as you laughed at him, Nick soon invested as well as he sat down next to you and stole some of your blanket. Nate shook his head as he went to the fridge and got a Pepsi for himself and Chris.

“Ok, nice seeing you guys, now leave. This isn’t “date night plus the guys!”, this is date night with me and my beautiful girlfriend! Now fuck off!” Matt hissed out as Chris nodded along, yet not making eye contact once as for his eyes were still connected to the screen in front of him.

“But you have pizza! And plus i bet y/n doesn’t mind, right?” Nate asked after as he looked at you with wide eyes, full of hesitation and hope, slowly grabbing a piece of pizza from the box on the table.

Laughing at the situation, you shook your head as you leant into Matt’s embrace more. “The more the merrier!”

“Thank god, I’m already comfortable and I forgot how good this movie was.” Nick said as he leaned onto you for support as he grabbed chocolate that was already on the table.

Sighing, Matt buried his face into your neck, whining in annoyance as his brothers and best friend sat in the room, interrupting something he specifically told them not to.

“Love? what’s wrong?” You whispered at him, rubbing the back of his head as he nuzzled deeper into your neck and wrapped you up tighter in his embrace.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. It was supposed to be only us, but these idiots always need to be involved with whatever the others have going on.” Matt whispered to you, placing a gentle kiss on your jaw as you smiled down at him.

“It’s ok baby, I promise. As long as you’re here, I’m good. They’re fun to have around…. when their not being annoying-“

“I heard that!” Chris commented, his eyes never leaving the colorful screen as the animated movie continued.

“She isn’t wrong.” Nick added, offering you a piece of chocolate you politely declined.

Matt sighed once again, and took in the scene. His younger brother on the edge of his seat, intrigued with a movie he’s seen how many times with his best friend next to him. The oldest leaning against you as he snacked on chocolate and made little comments at how hot Flynn was, which made all of you roll your eyes at one point. And finally you, snuggled up under the blanket with him, drowning in his hoodie you had slipped on earlier while he held you tightly.

Sighing, Matt melted into the couch cushions and placed a kiss on your head, accepting what has become of the date he planned.

“I guess this isn’t too bad.”

[gloomiebearwritings]

Reiden, Fujin, Erron, Kabal, and Kitana with an s/o that has ADHD?

Sorry if it's too much or it makes you uncomfortable you can decline the request!

Sorry for takin' so long, I went on a break for a bit there! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) I had to leave out Kabal and Kitana as I'm a little rusty still, but I did add Old and Current timeline Raiden! ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Old Timeline Raiden

ADHD was a new concept to him, at least in terms of being named- but he’s seen a few people before with the same behaviors.

It takes him some time to learn all your little quirks and routines, or lack thereof.

May sometimes become impatient, but always apologizes for his behavior- which over time gets better.

You were asked about by just about everyone, and it seemed to frustrate him more than it did you. Resting off in a room away from everyone else, Raiden takes the brunt of most of everyone’s curiosity for you.

“Y/N needs rest- there is too much going on right now.”

He made sure his voice was stern enough to make his stance clear, “No one is needed that badly right now.”

Though a bit later he catches Johnny going towards your room, stopping him before he gets to the door, “What did I say, Johnny?”

“I was just tryin’ to bring some water!” 

“I will take the water. Go on.”

Current Timeline Raiden

When you first brought it up to him he joked about how Kung Lao must have it too. 

He’s more open to your needs, learning what you need to get things done and feel more comfortable.

Quite patient and understands you’ll have times of being overwhelmed, and tries to help you in those moments.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks you, seeing you utterly spaced out at all the noise. 

When you shake your head “no” he sighs, offering you his hand and giving a reassuring smile. Once he’s got you to your feet he brings you out of sight of everyone else, letting you pick a spot to calm down. 

“Johnny can be a little loud, I know…”

Sitting next to you he uses himself as a comforting barrier between you and the group, “You stay here as long as you need, okay? There’s no rush.”

Fujin

He has a better understanding of it than you’d expect considering his time among humans.

By far the most patient and open about things, offering to help remind you of things.

Will help create routines to help curb bad habits, and steer you away from getting too distracted. 

You felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder, breaking you out of your disconnected daze.

“You seem distracted, did something cross your mind?” 

His voice was sweet, face just as sweet as he leaned over to see yours more. When you shook your head “no” he gave a soft smile, “Overworked yourself? Maybe we should take a minute to refresh you?”

He opened the windows in the room to let fresh air in and brought you something to drink. 

“Have this to start, but let me know if you need anything else…”

Erron

Not the most knowledgeable about the subject, but granted he’s never had to think too hard about things like this before.

Willing to learn however, albeit a little slow when it comes to getting used to new routines.

He will leave little notes around the house for you though, little reminders for things either of you need to do or get. 

He’d left a note on the dining table telling you he’d be home later than usual because he’d be swinging by the market. Which really you didn’t notice until it was almost an hour after he’d normally have been home that it caught your eye. 

Though it seemed like only a minute later he was home, putting things away before coming over to you to give you a friendly little pinch, “Sorry for bein’ out so long…”

Looking at the clock out of curiosity you realize it was 2 hours ahead of when you last looked at it. He chuckled as he realized you must’ve gotten distracted given your mildly confused expression, “Least you didn’t miss me too bad?” he teased.

[gamerbot-22]

Laid Up

Prompt: Rest

TW/CW: None, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 1,159

A/N: Yeaaah Luka!!! His character was a total surprise to me when I first picked up the game and now I would put him up there with some of my absolute favorite characters in the game! (and seriously, where is the love for this man in the fandom? Am I going to be propping up the Luka Stans once this goes up or have I just not found the niche?) One of my absolute favorite archetypes in media is the hero who does his bolster the spirits of people around them, while still having a passion for the work itself. Luka rules <3

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here!

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The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

© All rights reserved by miHoYo

“Ow ow ow ow—“

The pulley squeaked and strained against itself, immediately betraying the movement Luka was trying so hard to conceal.

“Shit shit shit—“

“Luka?”

He swung his good leg back onto the cot and forced his hips back into the middle of the mattress. Unfortunately, the old rusty wheels of the rig holding up his broken leg did not follow his momentum, and instead caught on seemingly nothing. This would've been all fine and good if it wasn't for one, the ungodly screeching sound it made that absolutely blew his cover, and two, the fact that his leg--wrapped from his knee to his ankle in plaster--went swinging out of its holster and knocked into the iron bed frame.

Luka swallowed the pained yelp that tugged at his throat and accepted defeat. The approaching, rushed click of heels on the wooden floor of the clinic was all he needed to know that there was no getting out of this, so he just sank what he could back into bed, running his hand over his face.

The heels stopped, and he heard fabric rustle. He could feel Natasha's disappointment without even having to look at her.

"Trying to make a break for it, are we?" Natasha took one of nearby wheeled stools and brought it to the side of the bed, just so she had it handy to sit on once she was done with this.

Luka shot her a haphazard smile, pulling his hand back like the petal of a flower. "I thought maybe some fresh air would help?" He knows the lie isn't convincing, but it is a little silly.

The doctor sighed, smiled, shook her head, and then made a little gesture with one hand for him to sit up. Luka decided to do as he was told--it was only fair considering he got caught--minding his hurt leg. Natasha bent down to take his cast in both hands and brought it back up onto the mattress with his help, sparing him the embarrassment of a lecture when he was already more than bruised.

"I'm going to have to elevate it again, so don't get too relaxed just yet," she said, firm but tender as she grabbed hold of the sling's frame. She tried to wheel it, but it stuttered again, the rusty wheels screeching loud enough to make both doctor and patient wince in response.

"Oh, so this one is going to have to be replaced..." She murmured.

"The whole thing?" Luka piped up after her, propping himself up on his elbows to better keep an eye on where she was going. Not that he was nervous, it just felt polite.

Natasha went to a few of the other frames stored in the corner of the clinic, testing the wheels on a few of them before settling on one that had gotten propped up against the wall itself. The main support was a little bent, but it didn't give much way when Natasha put weight on it.

"I have replacements coming in from the surface." She called, loud enough to hear but not to be shouting across the room at him. "They were meant to come in a lot sooner, but--" she paused to nudge another wheeled stool out of her way "--but there's been a bit of delay with the transport. It won't be until the end of the month before they come in."

Without even thinking, Luka spoke. "I can bring them down here no problem!"

Natasha looked at him, then his foot cast. "If you keep trying to go for secret afternoon walks, they'll probably wheel down here on their own without your help." The laugh in her words tipped him off to the fact that he's not meant to take it personally, and even if it was meant that way, it's not like he could deny it. Any chance the boxer had to help, he'd go for it, hook, line, and sinker.

"I know, I'm sorry." He watched Natasha fiddle with the new sling, loosening the cord so the sling itself was at the right height to actually put his cast into. "I'm just a little restless, you know how it is."

The doctor chuckled warmly. "Oh, do I..." She moved to the other side of the cot and carefully brought Luka's leg onto the sling, making doubly sure that it was actually on the support. The white fabric really melted into the sheets if you weren't looking too closely...

"Alright, I'm going to lift this up now, so keep still."

"I'll try!"

He did just fine as the support lifted his leg back up to where it had been before, hanging over the mattress like a tree ornament. Yes, A+ in patient-ing. Something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.

"When this heals, I really won't have any problem going to get the replacement... wheely things for you, Doc." He rested his hand on his knee, just behind the lip of the plaster. Of course now that he'd done that, that part of his skin started to itch.

"It's no trouble, really," Natasha insisted in that gentle way she always did. "You focus on resting, healing will come in its own time. And I can always ask Seele to bring them around if I can't go and do it myself."

"Well you could, but..."

There wasn't really anything left to that sentence. He kind of hoped that something would just come to him if he kept talking. To fill the silence he just kept itching at the plaster until Natasha took his hand away from it.

"You've already done so much for the Underground, Luka. Let some of us do some things for you in return." She had such a funny way of making praise sound like even-tempered chiding, but she had a point. She always had a point.

Sometimes the best way out of a fight is to just surrender. The boxer smiled and squeezed Natasha's hand in his, his own way of showing his yielding.

"Alright, I'll get some rest. But only because you twisted my arm about it," he teased, flashing her that champion smile.

"You're not the only one around here who knows how to wrangle," the doctor smiled back. "I'll be back to check up on you later, alright?"

"Alright." He gave her hand one last squeeze before she got up to go, bringing the privacy curtains around his cot shut behind her.

"Oh, Doc, one last thing?"

Natasha peeked back in past the curtains, letting only her head through. "Yes, Luka?"

He held onto the sheets by his side and hung his head a little shyly. "Thanks. Both for your help and putting up with my restless self."

"Of course." Her smile was so warm, just like all the ones she'd given him before as he grew up. "It's the least I can do for my most frequent patient."

[mslanna]

How about Raphael (who is in love with interested in Tav) reacting to Tav, in a moment of desperation, transforming into a true dragon to save him from death.

The kicker? Tav did not remember that she was a true dragon due to the tadpole wrecking her memory and is just as caught off guard by this revelation as her lover is.

Well, this took a moment. 😂 Anyway. I finally got an idea and made it work. Enjoy. 😊 A Dragon Born on AO3

A Dragon Born

That's what you got for trying to outsmart a devil. Tav's war hammer crashes down on the nearest gelugon. A crown for a hammer. That was easy. That was predictable. But noooo. Another skull shatters under their weapon. They had to be smart. They wanted more and, what is worse, had their cunt allowed to do the thinking.

So here they are. Not on the frontline of Raphael's war, but balls-deep in it still. Bodyguard. Pah. A glorified breastplate is what they are. Just another layer between Raphael and his death.

The thought hones Tav's concentration back to the battle at hand. Thinking with their cunt had been one thing. And something Raphael had no qualms about. As things stood, they went well-satisfied despite Haarlep's warning. The devil was pliable to praise and eager to control. Characteristics that were easily exploited for pleasure.

On the flip side, he was as eager to conquer and the hells were offering ample resistance.

Should have been more careful with the duration of the terms, Tav thought not for the first time. Should have been more careful that my cunt doesn't drag other organs into the mess. Should, should, should.

It is too late for Tav. Raphael's current favourite plaything is hopelessly in love. A fact Raphael abuses shamelessly. Who better to keep him safe than somebody who can't stand the thought of losing him? Tav just swishes he wasn't so reckless with them in tow.

But he is and the tide of the battles turns against them ever so slowly. And Raphael, intent on still winning as he is, doesn't get any of the hints to move to a place easier to defend. The last thing they need is to be surrounded. Tav nudges the devil eastwards again, where rusty cliffs tower with the promise of stark ravines.

They can retreat there. Find a secluded space and at least get their own asses out of the fight intact. Tav has made peace with losing about the complete army at this point. But once again, Raphael doesn't budge.

Despite their situation, Tav has to admire the cambion. His helldusk armour is covered in blood and gore, his face splatters, hair almost ruffled. He looks positively vicious. Violence suits him well: Bare teeth emphasis the snarl of his lips. If they were not fighting for their lives – Tav shakes their head.

They are fighting for their lives and whatever thoughts cross their mind at the sight of Raphael in a battle frenzy, they will have to make a list for later. If there is a later. They push again, but the devil is too caught up ion the fight to react.

"Raphael," Tav hisses, leaning close. "We must retreat!"

Nobody tells n archduke of hell what to do. Raphael's eyes flare up, but the lunge harmlessly passes Tav's head, cutting through an imp behind them. In return Tav steps around their devil, swinging their war hammer in an expert curve that connects beautifully with an attackers temple. They drop dead on the spot only to be replaced by more opponents.

"Trust me," Raphael replies.

What can Tav say to that? The devil's trick almost cost them their lives as often as they save them. They hack on, keeping a small circle around them clear and hope Raphael will act soon. The press of enemies only gets thicker and Tav's arms tire from the prolonged fight.

Impossible. Tav inches closer to the devil. Enemies swamp them and still he doesn't move. Any moment now they will be overrun. From the corner of their eye, Tav sees him prepare a spell, one of the bin ones by the amount of preparation necessary. Taking a deep breath, Tav braces, ready to keep the flood at bay a little longer.

One of the devils breaks through though. Tav lunges, but only manages to shatter his skull once the curved blade ripped through Raphael's side and wing. They his, angry at themself, Raphael., the world. They hammer sweeps around the two of them in a wide arch. But every inch is hard won and lost as soon as their weapon moves on.

A wave of hellfire sweeps out from Raphael and incinerates most of the attackers close by. Tav shivers under the gust of warmth. Hellfire is a familiar comfort to them, another gift from Raphael. But they are not the only fighter with that advantage. The opposition closes in again, burnt bones of their companions crunching underfoot.

A gelugon drives their lance forwards. It catches on Tav's armour, bounces and slips to the ground behind Raphael's legs. Only when the devil falters slowly, does Tav realise it must have caught him behind the knee.

Curses fall from their lips as hits rain down on the surrounding foes. But it is never quite enough to buy a reprieve. And it gets more difficult with Raphael unable to fend for himself any longer. Tav prowls over his prone form. They will keep the blades away and if they have to use their own body for a shield.

Swords and arrows bounce from the helldusk plates, shaking Tav's balance each step. There is no thought left in their mind, just stay and protect. There is no way to get them both to safety now. But Tav will not leave Raphael undefended as long as they can still stand.

Tav lunges at the attacker, throwing themself at them chest first. The desperate movement expands and fills their whole perception. The world blinks out of existence for a moment before Tav lands on their forelegs, one arm reaching for a devil about to strike at Raphael's prone form.

A scaled claw closes around their waist. Without thinking, Tav sinks their claws into soft flesh and squeezes. The devil squelches in their grip, flowing apart on a soft mass of flesh, blood, and ground bone.

Tav stares it for a split second. They cannot afford to be distracted. Their long neck swerves and turns to take in the scene. The attackers seem to hesitate. Over their newly curved back, Tav finds a tail and gives it an experimental woosh that tales out a row of devils.

Well.

Alright then.

Tav inhales and roars their frustration at the surrounding enemies and their new scream comes with ice. A crescent patch of ground cracks as it is frozen and the devils stumble on the surface. Tav aims another blast at them directly and veins burst under the pressure of the freezing water in their bodies expanding beyond capacity.

It makes the others step back cautiously. Tav reaches out with their claws again, light blue scale glittering ominously in the red light of the hells, and sweeps the last devils standing on the icy patch off their feet. They slash deep gashes into their flesh through their armour. A very satisfactory feeling.

Cold violence bubbles under Tav's scales, but each time they lash out with claw, it gets worse instead of better. Their restraint melts away like the ice of their breath. If they are not careful this animal nature will take over. Tav concentrates on their objectives: protect Raphael. Stay alive. Save Raphael.

Tav looks around. There are to many foes even for this form that feels powerful enough to rip apart Asmodeus on his own throne.

With a roar, Tav crouches over their devil. Their wings expand and Tav understands now the display of power and unbridled ferocity it is. They push off the ground and cradle Raphael's from carefully in scaled claws. His cambion body is fragile compared to Tav's dragon form.

They rise slowly and their neck swings this way and that. Keeping arrows and thrown lances at bay. As soon as Tav flies out of reach, they check on their precious cargo. Raphael hangs limp in their grip, still knocked out.

It is alright. Tav will find a safe place for him. If they are lucky, they may be able to spin him a story, too. One that avoids the embarrassing subject of their transformation.

[solmtinel]

Panette swings her axe and it nearly misses her target. So she is getting rusty is she? Or perhaps there is something else on her mind, something itching at the back of her skull. Just as she is about to try to shake it off and try another swing, the training door swivels open with a slow creak causing her to start and turn around.

"Buh..."

The axe clatters to the floor with a loud thud, but she cares precious little when there is a much more important matter at hand in front of her. She dashes across the floor, nearly slipping on her way there.

"Boss! What the heck are you doing here? I thought-- Well, it doesn't matter. Ah, where are my manners? Ahem. Shall we take a jaunt on wolfback once you get settled in? It has been far too long and now without the pressure of war..."

"ehehe." solm's queen giggles, placing her hands on her hips. "looks like my surprise was a success." she teases seeing her retainer's floored reaction from her sudden appearance. as much as she understands and admires the amount of effort that panette put in to appear and speak like a proper retainer, she loved the more wild panette that didn't bother with manners more.

"you don't have to worry about solm. mom's keeping things afloat while i study here." timerra grins, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "we need to do a little camping too. it's just not the same without merrin and you camping with me!"

[kaynadoesalot]

Chapter 2: truth or dare?

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everyone was gathered around the fireplace trying to figure out how the rusty but vintage camera works.

"hm, strange I can't find any camera like this on Google. How old is this thing?" ryle asked, a little distress on his face presented by the scrunch of his eyebrows.

"It's okay, just a camera," said Ava, grabbing it and studying it for a few seconds before figuring out the mechanics of the cryptic device.

"ah here we go, just click this silver button here and we are good to go" said Ava, pointing at the button with a satisfactory look. rest of the group looking at her in admiration.

"wow Ava that was so cool, how'd you do it" exclaimed Noah

"I dont know it just came to me" shrugged Ava as she took her place before Olivia.

"Okay you guys, I see a timer button. I'll set it for 5 seconds. be ready" said Matthew, placing the camera on the table in front of them.

Everyone grabbed a spot, holding each other close, swinging an arm around their shoulders. Mia and Ryle coincidently being placed close together but if Mia saw the look in Isabella's eyes, she knew it wasn't accidental but on purpose. Ryle looked at Mia and smiled as he wrapped his arm around her waist, she looked away and straight to the camera, her face flushed.

"get ready!" exclaimed Noah as he heard the camera beep thrice over the chaos. Everyone looked at the camera except Ryle, who was still admiring Mia silently, one more second and he would have had a lifelong memory of this moment until Mia nudged him to look ahead. Just as he did, the camera clicked.

matthew grabbed the camera, trying to look for the picture but to his disappointment, this was a film camera.

"oh you guys we will have to get them developed"

"oh that's alright, we can click pictures all night and look for a shop tomorrow" suggested Mia

"yeah sounds like a plan" Ava chimed in agreeing with Mia

"come on you guys, let's hit the dance floor, and get the party started"cheered Olivia as daniel agreed with her, joining her with a glass of vodka in his hand.

Ava is already on the job of connecting her phone to the speaker, putting on a playlist curated by everyone before coming to Shadowvale, this way everyone gets to enjoy the music.

"let's rock this night you guys" wooed Isabella.

soon, everyone joined the makeshift stage they had made out of the living room, the lights dimmed, the music loud, the fireplace giving them the warmth they needed and the booze giving them the heat and slowly stripping them of their consciousness.

isabella too, for once wanted to let loose especially because of all the negative vibes she experienced today. She was probably the most drunk after Ava.

noah and Daniel helped her stand on her feet as she danced her heart out even though they were equally as drunk.

matthew holding onto Olivia for support as he was close to passing out.

the only half-conscious ones now were Ryle and Mia. They were still having fun, now let loose of the awkward tension from before. they were laughing together as they watched everyone trip, and do all sorts of crazy things they would never do sober.

mia already pulled her camera out, recording Noah and Matthew twerking together while Olivia and Ava threw tissue papers at them instead of cash. at one point they thought driving out to get some vodka was a good idea so they took out the huge couch cushions and rode them to the kitchen while intimitiating traffic sounds.

it was a hilarious night, mia had ordered some takeout to sober everyone down to minimise the effects of the hangover. She also ordered the ingredients for her famous hangover smoothie.

once they were all a little dried out and starving, Mia and Ryle bought out boxes of beautifully packed up boxes of pasta and risottos. it was a group favourite so she knew what everyone liked. She gave them each a glass of lemon water along with it knowing they were all going to thank her the next morning.

after stuffing themselves full and sobering up a little they decided to continue the party but with less booze now.

"we should totally play truth or dare" suggested Ava, still very much buzzed but excited nonetheless.

"oh yeah I dont mind" agreed Matthew, everyone giving in after a few comments about the game being childish.

"Okay Mia, you start," said Olivia, clearly wanting to poke Mia since she knew how much she hated the game.

Rolling her eyes Mia agreed and chose truth. After about a minute of choosing truths for her, they all landed on one thing they were curious to know. Mia was an amazing friend but she was uptight about a lot of things. Especially her love life, the only person who knew anything was Isabella and that was also only because she was present when Mia broke up with her first boyfriend, that's how their bond was created.

"is there someone you like who is in the room right now?" asked noah

Mia froze, she didn't know what to say. She could say no but that might give Ryle the image that she didn't like him and if she said yes its going to be too obvious for him. Today isn't the only time with awkward interactions. he knows, she knows, and almost everyone does but they love teasing these two indirectly.

"uh, yeah" mia nodded, shifting a little as she cleared her throat sipping on her cocktail later

"Who is it, who is it" Ava jumped up excitedly

"hey, one question only" Mia rolled her eyes tiredly

"fine okay Matthew it's your turn" said Ava

"Okay, I'll choose to dare."

"Okay I got this, I dare you to go up to the attic and record a dance for 4 minutes," said Mia

"the attic? why there?" Matthew questioned

mia leaned in closer to him, " because there are spiders there" she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear and they all laughed at Matthews's reaction. he was absolutely terrified of spiders, and despised them.

"you guys are the worst," he said, standing up.

They all just laughed and walked him to the attic giving him song suggestions until they settled on the only dance he knew. Love nwantiti. He was scared but he stayed there and a danced to the song, everyone laughing at his recording as he kept looking over his shoulder and near his feet for the prospect of spiders crawling around him.

everyone was laughing and having fun except for Isabella, Ryle noticed and walked towards her.

"Hey, you've been too quiet all day today. What's wrong?" he inquired

"oh no it's nothing, I'm just exhausted from today's trip" she smiled, lying through her mouth and smiling through her eyes.

"I dont want to believe you, and I don't. if somethings wrong you know you can come to talk right?" he said

"yeah I know Ryle, thanks" Isabella smiled as she patted his arm and walked away

mia noticed the interaction silently until she locked eyes with Ryle and then immediately looked away.

"I can feel them on my body, I hate you guys" Matthew hissed as he looked at everyone annoyed but deep down everyone knew he wasn't really mad.

"Okay guys, it's 2 am I think we should call it a night. We've got a long day ahead of us" said Mia, everyone nodding in sync, exhausted after tonight's fun events.

"Who's gonna clean up though? I don't think we would have time in the morning" asked Ava.

"Oh that's okay I'll do it" Mia said with a smile, the least drunk out of all of them.

"No girl are you crazy, it's a mess you can't do it alone" said Olivia with a frown.

"I'll help her out" volunteered Ryle, already moving his feet towards the living room.

isabella nudged Mia and whispered in her ear "Take your chance" and walked along with the rest of the group waving goodbye to Mia.

mia walked to the living room, seeing Ryle already on the job. he was picking up the pasta boxes and cleaning off the wrappers of chips from the table.

"Hey, thanks for volunteering" Mia smiled at Ryle helped him with the boxes and went over to the kitchen to throw them in the bin. She came back with a cloth to clean up the table when Ryle bent over to help her out by taking it from her hand. He was right beside her and he straightened himself, looking at Mia.

"hey listen, I need to say something" he said

"What's up?" Mia asked with a smile even though the proximity made her nervous.

"I want to say that you have done enough for all of us so why don't you get some rest and let me do the cleaning hm?" ryle suggested

"what? no, I'm not letting you clean up alone" Mia frowned and shook her head

"I'm not asking Mia, you have to rest. you're getting pale and I know it's not long before you get sick if you don't rest" Ryle said, this wasn't what he originally wanted to say but he couldn't go through with it. nervous, just like Mia.

but something about tonight was making Mia crave him. maybe it was the alcohol, the atmosphere, the corridor situation, everything in her screamed at her to just throw herself at him.

"oh you're stubborn aren't you" Ryle rolled his eyes when she didn't say anything, he grabbed her arms and just as he was about to turn her around and direct her to the stairs, the camera which quietly sat on the table, clicked.

no one touched it, there was no timer, yet it clicked. both Ryle and Mia looked at it with a suspicious look. wondering if they just heard it but then it clicked again.

"what the fuck?" said Ryle.

mia picked the camera up and kept it in the case, leaving it on the couch.

"leave it, go to your room. now," said Mia, remembering Isabella's look when she saw the camera.

"i am not going alone, you're coming with me" Ryle stated as he grabbed her wrist and took her with him, he walked her to her room.they both stood outside, silently. knowing that there is something they want to say but are compelled not to.

"um, goodnight ryle" initiated mia

"yeah goodnight Mia," Ryle said with a smile as he leaned in to hug her

surprised by the hug, Mia let out an 'oh' before hugging him back. th hug lasted for a while. it was as if they were silently saying everything they wanted through the hug.

"I should get going," Ryle said as he pulled away. mia nodded and watched him walk away from her, once again.

[bloodsalted]

@murderdeals || send me "Good boy/girl" for my muse's reaction || accepting!

" Good boy " from Cain, the grandfatherly approval way

they're standing outside the old ranch house with it's barn in the back and rather large shed to the side. there's enough room for a garden between it and the house itself. now? it's a weed farm and that's about it. in the distances, there's woods and from what he was told? a lake somewhere that the former owner made by stopping a natural spring that flows into the area. the whole place has certainly seen some better days. looks like it could use a lot of work to bring it back to where it once was. decades upon decades ago. but there's charm to it. potential. and most of all it's safe. tucked away out of sight from the main road. takes a little bit of a drive down a dirt path to get there. gotta swing open a rusty old gate and keep on going.

but?

it's theirs. something the family who owned it was all too happy to get rid of when dean paid cash. he's not gonna say where he got it from. or how long he'd been saving it. or how much it was. was pennies on the dollar they let it go for. leaves him with a little more than the usual six bucks to his name and a plethora of unmentionable credit cards to put behind their elbow grease. yeah, he got what he could afford. pretty damn awesome though. in his book. and it'll give them something to work on. to build. together. sam helped him settle on the place. sam truly helped in more ways than one. and dean couldn't be any more grateful. because..

green eyes glance at cain's profile and dean sees he's smiling. when the other meets his gaze? dean's smiling too. then his chin tucks towards his collar and he looks ahead again. "it's time to get him out of that bunker for good. maybe take a little less jobs, too." he brushes the back of his hand against the tip of his nose. then stuffs it back in his pocket. "we stay there less and less but it's back to motel rooms and anywhere we can be other than there. gives him nightmares. anxiety. me, too. too much bad's happened there and i don't want him living in anything that hurts. this is ours but sometime soon? it'll be everyone else's who needs it.."

'good boy...' cain's voice holds a heavy amount of pride in it as they stare ahead at the place. he brought him here before he mentioned to cas what was going on. wanted him to see it. to approve. those words? tell him he was right. he made the decision. and it stuck and it was good and this is going to be the best thing that's ever happened for them. aside from him getting cas back.

[cappadocius]

Why most liminal things on the Internet aren't actually liminal

Something that is 'liminal' is neither here nor there, it exists between one distinct quantum state and another. In cultures with distinct "adulthood" rituals, a youth that has matured but has not undergone that ritual is in a liminal state; they are clearly not a child anymore, but they are also not yet an adult, they exist in a strange non-place that is neither, or maybe it's both. A road can be liminal, it exists merely to connect Point A to Point B, but once it acquires an identity as its own entity, it stops being liminal, it's a place in and of itself. The famous American highway Route 66 is not, in any way, liminal - people go TO Route 66, it's no longer just the space between (capital-S) Spaces. Crossroads are traditional liminal spaces, given magical qualities, right up until you get a permanent market or settlement or some other distinguishing feature there - when it becomes a place.

The popular internet phenomenon "The Backrooms" starts as liminal, yes. It's an endless series of identical hallways and corridors, of multi-use spaces not currently in use. But it's not *compelling* because it's liminal. There are hallways and no-places everywhere in our lives and we don't think anything of them - we're not supposed to think anything of them because they're just the space between.

The reason people make videos and wikis and stories about The Backrooms is because they're eerie. Mark Fisher tells us that The Eerie is when we encounter something that lacks what we (usually subconsciously) consider integral to that thing. A playground at night, creaking with the sound of rusty swings moving in the breeze, is eerie because it lacks the children who should be making the swings move; it lacks the children that make a playground a playground. An unrecognizable sound in the dark is eerie because we know sounds come from things, but we cannot perceive the thing!

The Backrooms would be a little eerie just because we expect something that looks like it to be filled with people and activity. The multiuse spaces should show evidence of previous or upcoming use. The hallways would see people going somewhere, and The Backrooms are almost entirely empty. But again, we encounter empty hallways all the time and we don't typically make endless Internet content about them. The BIG eeriness about The Backrooms is that they lack the reference points that define liminality. Within the space, you have neither a here to go back to, nor a there to go towards; it is definitely and defiantly "between" but it's between nothing. That's the lack that made The Backrooms eerie, and that eeriness is what gave us the little frisson that made them compelling.

As the Internet added more and more lore, more and more things, more and more monsters, as The Backrooms became a THING, it actually lost a good deal of its liminality, and therefore its big source of eeriness. The Backrooms was now a place to go, a location to do things in, a point in our mental landscape. As it lost its eeriness, people began adding monsters as a jolt of the Weird (another Mark Fisher term, this time referring to something that is incongruously present when it should not be) but they quickly became another identifying feature of The Backrooms, another nail keeping it a place with an identity.

Lacking the frisson, people began looking for other things that made them feel like The Backrooms did. And because they knew The Backrooms was 'liminal', they began calling anything that made them feel this way liminal as well, when the feature that made them feel this way was the eeriness. And so, empty preschools or abandoned malls (places that are innately places and therefore not at all liminal but are eerie because they lack the noise and presence of humanity that we strongly associate with those places) started getting called 'liminal' despite a complete lack of liminality.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1

The walk passes slowly, as if the length of the tracks has more than doubled since the last time he was here. It seems longer than a couple of years ago, when Steve had strolled alongside him, talking about Farrah Fawcett spray. 

Dustin kind of feels like he’s following a breadcrumb trail that he can’t see—like his body already knows where to go before his mind does. 

He finds that the junkyard isn’t all that different; the only discernible difference is that the bus they once took refuge in is no longer there. It means that there’s more empty space, his eyes darting around until he lands on Steve, who’s sat with his back pressed up against the wheel of a rusty, broken down car—clearly not bothering to take shelter from the rain. 

The relief at the sight of Steve is short-lived; as he nears the car, Dustin starts to get a sinking feeling, like when he reads a detective story and the mystery is solved too soon—there’s too many pages left. 

So he doesn’t rush over, moves slow and steady, one step at a time. And he starts to notice…

Steve is dressed in a threadbare T-shirt, and his sweatpants look old and worn, a few inches too short around the ankles. As Dustin gets within touching distance, he realises that Steve must be wearing what he’d gone to sleep in last night.

“Steve?” Dustin says hesitantly.

Steve doesn’t respond, but his eyebrows furrow in a vague way, as if he’s heard Dustin, albeit distantly. His hair is damp from the mist and rain, his sneakers mud-stained. He doesn’t have socks on.

Dustin wonders how long he’s been out here.

“Hey,” he tries, crouches down in front of him. Slow and steady, he repeats inside his head. Like he’d been with Eddie in the boathouse.

He’s never seen Steve like this, but he knows that people can get stuck in places, like El in the lab and Will in The Upside Down—stuck in their head long after they’d physically left.

Dustin doesn’t know where Steve is stuck, exactly. Just knows he needs to bring him back. 

He clears his throat.

Steve’s eyes land on Dustin’s face—obliquely, but it’s enough to spur Dustin on.

“Remember the last time we were here?”

A pause. There’s a flicker of Steve in the slightest of wry smiles tugging at his mouth. “Your poor cat, dude.”

His voice is brittle, like each word is an effort.

Dustin smiles back. He thinks for a moment, then mimes swinging a bat, relieved when Steve’s eyes actually follow the movement.

“You were awesome.”

And it surprises him—not the sincerity, that’s a given, but the fact that he’s not said such a thing out loud for a while. Well, he reasons, at least not to Steve himself.

Pre-Vecna Eddie would roll his eyes any time the conversation circled back round to Dustin raving about Steve—but in the RV, as Steve swung them onto the open road, Eddie had turned to Dustin with the widest of grins. He furtively nodded towards Steve in the driver’s seat, then said with a breathless laugh, “You were right, man. Incredible.”

Steve makes a small sound that’s more of a gasp than a laugh. Shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m—” He swallows. “Don’t think I’m that guy anymore.”

What do you mean? Dustin thinks. I’m looking right at him.

But he doesn’t say it.

He doesn’t say it, because now he can see why each word Steve speaks seems to come at a cost. His chest is rising and falling erratically, his breathing quick and shallow.

And he’s shaking.

His hands are clenched into fists, knuckles turning white—like he’s focused so much on trying to keep still that it’s making him tremble anyway.

Slowly, slowly, Dustin moves the tiniest bit closer. His hand barely touches Steve’s before he draws back sharply, hitting his head against the body of the car.

“Sorry,” Dustin says quietly, raising his hands just a little, hopefully just enough for him to register as not being a threat.

He remembers Eddie in the boathouse again, when he’d sank down to the floor, the fight gone clean out of him—the danger of him hurting Steve having passed, but Dustin still being afraid that Eddie would accidentally cut himself with the glass bottle, his hands were shaking so much. 

“No, I’m—” Steve sighs, tips his head up with a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s…” He looks at Dustin, finally meets his gaze properly. “I—I think.” Another sharp breath. “Dustin, I—I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“What? No, there’s—”

But Steve continues like he hasn’t even heard him. “No, no, there’s—like, something’s gone wrong, dude, really wrong. I-inside me. I’m fucked in the head.”

He grits his teeth.

And as Dustin scrambles for a response, Steve covers his face with his hands. His breathing shudders.

It takes a few seconds for Dustin to realise that Steve is crying—crying and trying to hide it, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes so fiercely that it must hurt, like he can somehow will away the tears.

“Steve,” Dustin says, and for a long moment feels completely useless. He’s never seen… he doesn’t know how the hell to approach this.

He’s used to Steve’s spiky brand of kindness, used to the eye rolls, the exasperated, “Dude, how many times, not on the inside,” when Dustin wipes his feet in his car, all the while insisting that he drive Dustin home whenever it rains.

But he doesn’t know what Steve needs from him.

Then Steve’s breathing starts to hitch, more than just the uneven rhythm of sobs; his hands fall away, and Dustin catches a flare of panic in his eyes.

It’s familiar. Makes him think of Will, how his eyes go wide sometimes, how Joyce will murmur, “Breathe with me, hon, it’ll pass. You’re okay.”

This time, when Dustin reaches for Steve’s hand, he doesn’t flinch. Instead Steve clings on, almost like it’s a reflex—like he’s at the edge of a cliff, and Dustin is pulling him back.

“Just breathe with me,” Dustin says. He over-exaggerates his breathing, takes Steve’s hand and places it over his chest so it can be felt.

“C-can’t,” Steve says.

This, at least, Dustin can work with.

“Okay, I know right now it feels like you can’t, but you totally can. Come on, would I lie to you?”

Steve shakes his head, manages a faint smile even as he wheezes—and Dustin is glad to know that even through Steve’s fear, their trust in one another remains a mutually understood thing.

“Look at my track record,” Dustin adds, “I’m always right.”

Steve catches his breath enough to chuckle, just for a split second. “Smart… ass.”

Dustin tsks. “Delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But what he means is I’m gonna sit with you for as long as you need.

He doesn’t know how long it takes, realises too late that he’d forgotten to check his watch when he’d started walking. He hopes Eddie is only mildly freaking out.

Steve moves his hand away, uses it to push back his hair, sticking to his forehead from a combination of rain and sweat. But it’s only when Dustin fails to suppress an involuntary shiver that Steve startles, snaps back into action. Wipes roughly at his face, then nods to himself as if to say Enough now.

“We should go.”

And he stands with only a little jerkiness, takes barely a second to lean against the car before he’s setting off. He looks behind his shoulder expectantly, and Dustin follows.

He doesn’t know how to feel. Relieved, maybe, that Steve feels secure enough to lead the way. Concerned—because the sudden return to ‘normality’ is happening too soon; he can feel it.

As they get off the railroad tracks, begin to approach the edge of the woods, Dustin hears Eddie before he sees him—the clatter and rustle of him repeatedly dropping the flashlight, his muffled curses.

Steve doesn’t seem to notice, has drifted back into silence, blinking down at the forest floor.

Eddie comes into view, and when he sees them, he just. Stops.

“You can’t keep track of time for shit,” he tells Dustin, and his voice shakes a bit in the middle.

Steve’s head raises at that. He blinks slowly. “Eddie?”

“The one and only,” Eddie says as he steps forward, comes to a halt right in front of Steve.

And Dustin doesn’t even take a crack at how incredibly uncool that reply was, because Eddie’s eyes are flickering across Steve’s face, his clothes, like he’s putting a few more puzzle pieces together, ones that Dustin can’t see.

Eddie’s hand lightly touches Steve’s shoulder, no doubt feeling that the thin T-shirt is practically soaked through by now.

“Oh, you’re freezing,” Eddie says softly. “C’mon.”

And Eddie leads the way back to the roadside. He doesn’t touch Steve again, but his hand hovers occasionally, like he can sense that Steve might need someone to lean on.

But Steve never does.

They don’t talk, not until they reach Eddie’s van. And Steve’s car.

“The… the keys,” Steve says. It sounds flat, but only in the sense that he might not have the energy to sound panicked, even when he is.

“Right here,” Eddie says quickly. He takes them out of his jeans pocket. “Safe and sound.”

He offers them, palm open. But Steve doesn’t move. Dustin sees his jaw work a few times.

Then Steve stretches out his hand—he doesn’t take the keys, just leaves it hanging in the air. He’s shaking again.

“Eddie, I don’t think I can-” He cuts himself off, exhales. Drops his hand back down to his side. “Don’t think I can drive.”

He’s talking out the side of his mouth. It almost sounds like he’s embarrassed over Dustin potentially hearing.

Like Dustin would ever think of him differently.

Dustin kind of wants to yell at him, kind of doesn’t. Wants to hug him.

Above all, wants to make Steve understand that he doesn’t ever have to drive people around again. It doesn’t matter, none of it does, because Dustin will love him regardless.

“Okay,” Eddie says. He gestures to Steve’s car. “You trust me with—?”

“Yeah,” Steve says before Eddie has finished speaking, as if he’s answering another question.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats. “How about… you two watch over my van? And I’ll drive the car to yours.”

“How’re you gonna get back here?” Dustin asks.

Eddie shrugs. “Walk?” Then he laughs slightly. “Nah, just kidding. I’ll hitch a ride.”

“Eddie,” Steve says warningly, and honestly Dustin gets it: the town might’ve largely cooled off, sure, but that doesn’t mean most people would tolerate giving Eddie a lift anywhere.

But Eddie just tuts, ushering them over to the van and flinging the door open. Steve seems to follow on automatic pilot, heads inside and sits with his back pressed against the interior, posture like it was in the junkyard. Rigid.

Eddie watches Steve’s movements, and Dustin catches him biting his lip. But he stops as soon as Steve looks his way, gives a gentle kind of smile.

“I’ll be fine, there and back,” Eddie says. “Honestly, Harrington, haven’t you heard? I’m very charming.”

And Eddie steps away, Steve’s keys in hand—but not before giving Dustin a look that he knows means that instead of watching over the van, his instructions are to watch over Steve.

[my-own-walker]

Hiya!!!! I was wondering if you do peter maximoff smut? 😅😅😅 If you do, I have a request-but if you don't maybe you could make it like Tate or Kyle? <3

I was wondering if you could do something like Peter (if you can) like using his vibrations and going down on the reader(fem!) while making her read her smutty diary entries about him after he read what was in it? :) THANK YOU BESTIE MWAHHH

I Warned You

note: forgive me if this sucks. my emotions have been all over the past few days and i burned the FUCK out of my hand last night.

warnings: sm*t, oral f receiving, peter being a slut, etc

+++

It was a rather oppressive day, heat-wise. One of those sticky hot, thighs chafing, greasy bangs days. The sun shined down in a hazy way on the neighborhood I lived in. As I sat there in my denim shorts and big t-shirt, I reminisced on the days of summer as a child. How I'd spend them with my best friend, Peter.

He was the first person I met when I moved here. I was two, to be fair, so I don't remember much of it all. He's always been a permanent fixture in my life. Someone who was just...always there.

He lived next door. Just like a cliche movie. We would ride bikes and draw on the ground with sidewalk chalk together. He was my second-grade boyfriend. He decided to ‘ask me out’ on the last day of school. He learned in school how to say 'I love you,' in sign language just before he asked to hold my hand on the playground on that day in June. He signed it any chance he could. When his mom drove us home in her minivan that day, he held up the sign. Our little secret.

That summer was pure childhood bliss. Innocence. We really didn't 'break up,' per se. When we entered the third grade that September it was just mutual that we had crushes on other kids. We still stayed friends. I'd hang out at his house after school every day until my parents got home. When the weather was warm, I'd sit outside on my porch waiting for him after dinner. Then, like clockwork, we'd find something to do.

As we got older our activities changed. He taught me how to skateboard. I taught him how to trespass on the baseball fields that were tucked down a back street in our neighborhood. We'd swing on this old tire swing over the stream that ran through our backyards.

In our sophomore year of high school, he bought an old car with dreams to fix it up. A 1965 Ford Mustang. It was rusty, beat up, and had no engine. The windshield was shattered and the inside wasn't upholstered. The only working part of it was its radio. When I walked out of my front door on the day he brought it home, he slapped it on its hood, proudly declaring, 'I'm gonna take you to prom in this thing, baby!' We sat in the old thing all afternoon listening to the radio.

I had known about his abilities the whole time. I never got into foot races with him as a kid for that reason. He would beat me every time. Peter had it under control, for the most part, but only when he wanted to. He started getting brazen with it as a teenager. He'd take me on these wild adventures where he'd steal things. The first time it was just some candy from a convenience store. By the time he got that damned car, he was stealing entire carburetors. These trips took all of 2 minutes. Just the two of us speeding off to create havoc.

Somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. Or maybe it wasn't even that. I can't remember a time when I didn't love him. It changed, though. I started to feel things toward him I'd never felt before. When he'd hold my head to prevent me from getting whiplash as we were making our hasty escapes from his escapades, I'd find chills would run up my spine.

Our beautiful little romance blossomed once he finally got his Mustang up and running. Not that he needed it, really. He was leagues faster than any car. He just wanted to be able to transport more things. And his new girlfriend. We started dating in junior year. He had just gotten his license and took me on a ride one night. We parked down a backstreet in our town and our lips finally met. At long last, his fast fingers were allowed to explore my body in a way I had never allowed him to before. It was wonderful, awkward, and hungry. Everything a teenage love affair should be.

He ended up taking me to the prom in that car, just as he'd promised. He looked so smart in his little tux. We spent that entire summer simply enraptured with each other. Our hangouts transformed from outdoor antics to being tangled in my bed, fan on max speed, windows open to hear the mourning doves sing outside. I can still smell the fresh summer air and the smell of him combining to make something all-encompassing and intoxicating.

It was the next summer on this very hot day. Peter and I had been dating for a year. He was away, hanging out with his friends or something. I was home alone. I sat there on my porch, diary resting lazily on my lap, staring off at the hanging 'FOR SALE,' sign on my yard in front of me . I switched between twirling my pen in my hands and chewing the end of it, deep in thought.

It was always the deal in my house. As soon as I graduated, as the youngest kid in my family, we'd move away again. My parents weren't happy with the town. They knew I had made my life there, but a deal was a deal. I couldn't imagine a life without Peter.

When the sign went up on my front lawn, I began a diary. I was never a writer. I was horrible at keeping up with writing entries in a tiny book. But knowing my life was about to change, I began scratching down every small detail about my life. My time in this house. My childhood. My life with Peter. It was a passion project. I wanted to document everything so I'd never forget.

Peter interrupted my deep inner turmoil. Well, not exactly him. His loud-ass car pulled up, parking in the driveway next door. He stepped out of the car singing, keys jingling in his hands. Like clockwork, his head turned to see if I was on my porch. Our routine since we were kids. In a flash, he was sitting next to me.

'Hey pretty,' he breathed, kissing me gently on my cheek.

'Hey Peter,' I smiled, looking up at him. Whenever he was near me I couldn't help but get wrapped up in him. Swept away in his deep brown eyes and sea of silver hair. There was a palpable feeling between the two of us. Dancing around the topic of me moving away, even though the signs were all around us, literally. It was a tension that colored every moment of our time together, yet we tried in earnest to ignore it.

'Whatcha got there?' he asked, half-taunting, as he usually did.

'Oh, haha,' I blushed, clapping the book shut and tucking the pen inside. 'It's nothing, just a planner.'

'A planner? Y/L/N, when have you ever been the type to schedule things?' he scoffed. 'Gimme that.' He lunged for the diary. I curled my body up tight into a ball, the book nestled safely between my lap and chest. My arms secured it even further.

'Peter! Stop it! I gotta get my shit together,' I whined. 'Like, plan out packing!'

'Packing for what?' he asked sarcastically, still trying in vain to pry the diary from my grasp. In his desperation, he attempted the only trick he had left to get me to let go. He started tickling my sides. It was a surefire way to piss me off, but also to get me to let go. The diary clattered to the ground as I stood up quickly to get away from his hands tickling me at light speed. He paused for a moment to grab the diary off the ground.

'Hey, thanks!' he exclaimed, taking off in a flash inside my house, leaving only the wind behind to prove he was there.

I clamored inside behind him, calling after him as I stumbled up the stairs. He was already laying on my bed, on his side, reading my diary entries when I got to my room.

‘DON’T read those!’ I panted in vain. ‘They’re so bad!’

‘Oh, these little stories?’ he smirked, looking up only with his eyes. ‘I think they’re pretty good.’

My cheeks burned hot. I stepped into the room and slammed the door shut. He held the book up closer to his face and squinted. ‘Peter, please, I’m warning you,’ I pleaded.

‘His tongue slid into me. All of my insides felt warm and tingly…’ he read out.

‘OH MY GOD NO!’ I rushed over to him, trying to pry my diary out of his hands. I was on the bed on my knees doing what I could to get my embarrassing writing back. He and his super speed, though, had other plans. I gave up after minutes of trying, tired of grabbing at a person that wasn’t even there by the time my hands reached him. He stopped his motion and was right back where he started on my bed.

‘I think I got what I needed,’ he smirked. ‘Let me review the highlights with you…’

He moved quickly, without using his super speed, to lay me down my my back. I didn’t object. He was always gentle with me, careful not to use his speed unless I asked him to. Peter hated anything that took a long time, but with me he always had patience. Well, unless it was taking my clothes off.

Peter worked quickly to get every inch of fabric off my body. His smooth hands rubbed all over my skin as he kissed me passionately. He stopped to pick up the diary that had been discarded to the side on my bed.

‘Let’s see…’ he muttered, pinning my shoulder down with one hand, his legs straddling my lap. ‘He spread my legs slowly…okay I can do that.’

The diary was once again dropped so he could part my thighs. His hot breath hovered over my weeping cunt.

‘Right, right, then the tongue part,’ he reminded himself. He kissed all along the insides of my thighs, eventually making contact with my middle. My toes curled and my breath hitched. I was ready for what he was about to do. He slipped his tongue into me and my eyes rolled back. He flicked his tongue over my clit, making me yelp out.

He separated himself from me to grab my diary again.

‘You’re gonna have to read this next part, Y/N, I’m a little preoccupied here,’ he instructed. He passed the book into my shaking hands. I didn’t even have the energy to protest. I just wanted to feel his warmth within me again. His mouth reconnected with my pussy.

‘H-his abilities came in handy when giving me head,’ I panted. ‘He can do this thing- thi- this thing where he vibrates.’ I could only choke out so much in my pleasure.

I felt him take a few deep breaths before beginning to vibrate at sonic speed. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The first time he did it, I thought I would just about die. He pulled away for a moment.

‘Keep reading,’ he breathed. I whimpered, shaking hands once again opening the diary. He reconnected with my middle again and I let out a loud moan.

‘He kn-knows how to make m-me purr like a kitten. There’s n-nothing like it,’ I sputtered out.

I didn’t have much left in me. He, acting as my own personal vibrator, brought me to my limit. I came with a loud yelp, laughing immediately after. Peter stopped vibrating and laid on top of me, his face meeting mine.

‘You are SUCH a dick, Maximoff,’ I giggled.

‘I thought it was sexy, how you write about me and all,’ Peter shrugged. He peppered kisses all over my face and neck as we both caught our breath. For a fleeting moment, nothing in the world mattered. All we cared about was each other. For a moment, I wasn’t moving away. It was us and us only. ‘You’re a million miles away, beautiful. What’s wrong?’

Snapping out of my trance, I planted a kiss on his lips. ‘Nothing at all, Peter. Just really ready for round two,’ I smirked.

+++

I really enjoyed this one. Thank you so much for this request! I promise I’ll write more this week. It’s been cray cray on my end.

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 2

Chapter Two: Roll Up Your Sleeves

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Guns, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Swearing, Reader wants to sacrifice herself, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Holy shit there are so many of you sjdfhgsk AHHHH thank you so much for all the notes and comments, I appreciate it! Here’s a little bit of info for you to understand a little bit of my thought process. In my outline, the reader is an Enneagram Type 9: The Peacekeeper. (This helps me add a little bit of depth to you so I don’t feel entirely lost when writing) if she seems “passive” or “complacent” it’s cause she wants everything to go smoothly and be without conflict. I’d like to believe there’s a little part of us that prefer to avoid tension, due to the fear of loss and separation from the people or things you love. I’ll go a little bit more in-depth about this in the story as it progresses. Hope you enjoy!

Song: evermore (feat. bon iver) by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

BOSTON - NOON

You walk along the ruins of a long-abandoned Boston with an overpowering sense of dread. It feels like the build-up of a song in which you know the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. Strings of violins, drums, and bells ring and thump in your mind, unwanted and uncaring of how you feel. This curse of knowledge you never asked for but which you carry follows you as the four of you approach the Bostonian Museum. Creeper vines and Cordyceps grow on the sides of the building, marked by conspicuous veins and all-consuming every red brick of this once-beautiful structure.

The four of you stand outside the entrance of the museum. Cordyceps consume every part of the foundation, Ellie tilts her head to look up at it appalled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You stand next to Joe, using your hand to rub your right eye, and mumble, “Shit.”

“Well, there’s a way across from the top floor,” Tess says while moving to place her hands in the pockets of her pants. Ellie sarcastically replies, “Well, then I guess it’s fine.” Tess reassures her by adding, “We use to take it all the time.”

Ellie answers, “Okay.” Joel leaves your side and approaches a dry vein of the Cordyceps, removing the rifle he stole from the FEDRA guard, he crouches and touches a part of it to check if it was still active. He swings downward, hits the vein with the butt of the gun, and a puff of dust releases from the dead fungi, he stands to walk over to Tess, “It’s bone dry. It could mean they’re all finally dead in there.”

Tess nods, then they both kneel to prepare their flashlights and weapons, just in case. You and Ellie watch them both rummage through their backpacks, “Oh, man,” the kid mutters.

Joel whips out a flashlight and waves it at Ellie, “Marlene pack you one of these or just sandwiches?” She removes her backpack, “Yeah,” and pulls out her flashlight. Joel looks to you, “Catch, hummin’ bird.” That was the only warning he gave you before tossing you the flashlight, “Luckily, I have a spare.”

You’re short of breath as you hear the nickname he gave you. Miraculously, caught it with both hands, and without even thinking you wink, “Thanks, cowboy.” Thankfully, no one says anything about your quip directed at him.

“Okay, so… more ground rules.” Tess announces and turns to Ellie,  “We’re gonna go slowly. If we come up against anything you get behind us and you stay there, okay?” The young girl nods and wears her backpack, “Yes.” Tess brings out her handgun and flashlight, positioning her hands in a way that she can use both. Ellie glances at the gun she’s holding, “I have a spare hand.”

Joel is unamused by what she is insinuating, dryly replies, “Congratulations.” He walks forward with determination, he pokes his head through the door to do an initial check before turning around to nod at the three of you to signal it’s clear. Reluctantly, you follow them inside, your mind has kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out a way to get past this with zero casualties. If you sacrifice yourself, would that change the ending? Would it buy Tess a little more time? This might be your grand attempt to do something right and kind without assurance, without the promise of an afterlife.

Flashlights dance and shine around the walls of the abandoned museum, you watch your step and try to calm the beating of your heart as you look at the artifacts left behind. You navigate through the hallways and come across a corpse of an infected deceased. Joel shines his flashlight on the fungi, “Yeah, cooked.” Tess exhales, “Finally, some fucking luck.” Ellie steps a little closer to investigate the remains of what was once human, Joel continues, “I guess we should’ve gone this way in the first place.”

You were so caught up in trying to ground yourself in the reality of all of this, that this is actually happening, that you forgot to at least warn them about the Clickers they were about to face in a couple of moments. Just as Ellie was about to turn a corner, you whisper loudly to her, “Ellie wait!”

Too fucking late. “Oh shit,” Ellie exclaims with wide eyes, and Joel makes a move to inspect what she found. A dead bruised, bloodied, young man slouched against the corner. Ellie’s eyes were full of shock, “What the fuck did that?”

Joel and Tess look at each other knowingly, and you finally decide to speak up, for her and theirs, “Whatever you’re about to say or hope for, don’t bother.” The three of them turn to look at you and you decide to continue in an audible whisper, “I wasn’t sure if I could or should warn you, but we need to stay quiet from now on.” You gather your courage to look directly at Joel with an unwavering stare, “It’s exactly what you suspect it is.”

“Are you saying an infected did that?” Ellie whispers to the three adults, and she resumes, “Because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Joel looks at you and he can see the way your face twists, your lips curled downwards, and your eyes show your remorse and guilt, he whispers to everyone, “Okay, from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet. Silent.” Ellie looks at him concerned and confused, “What?” But Joel shakes his head, “No. No questions. Just do it.”

This is it. You think to yourself as you will your feet to move, continuing, you follow Joel and Ellie up the stairs with Tess trailing behind. You remember when you could cover your eyes to the scary moments of the show, you could press pause, or fast forward, not needing to witness and feel the distress and panic.

The quiet creak of each floorboard of the steps as your boots land on the rotting wood, it groans all of your weight and dust falls from the ceiling. You all stop silently, waiting for any indication of an infected discovering that all of you were in the museum. After a moment, Joel looks back at you, a silent way of asking if it’s okay, you throw him a bone and give him a tiny spoiler, then you nod at him. And all four of you continue up the stairs.

As you make the first landing of the steps, you shine your flashlight to meet a horrifying view. Multiple corpses of people who were infected with Cordyceps lay on the wooden floors. It’s unspeakable and all-consuming, the silence overwhelms your system, there is a sudden tightness in your chest, and feel a part of your mask slip, your eyes shift and move to look at the pile of bodies. Organs and parts that were once human, were scooped out and transformed into fungi.

Your mouth opens silently, quivering as you do, and you lightly shake your head. Joel steps over the rotting fungi, just as you were about to grab Ellie and warn her about what she couldn’t see, you were too late. Again. A satisfying crunch could be heard throughout the building and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear for a moment then you reopen them. Joel whips around to look at Ellie with annoyance, the kid gives him an apologetic look.

Thankfully, you managed to make it up the steps with no more issues. Joel slowly opens the door to Independence Hall, and the wood gives a quiet creak. He quickly scans the area before deciding to nod at all of you, telling you it’s clear.

With your foresight and knowledge of events that had already happened in your time, you decide to act accordingly and give a hard shove to both Tess and Ellie inside the Hall and quickly follow after, gravity takes place and parts of the museum collapse, pieces of wood and cement block the doors. You were trapped.

Tess and Ellie push themselves off the ground, but you take a little longer to get up. You scraped your arms and hands, and the pain in your head came back. Joel quickly and quietly helps Ellie up then realizes you haven’t moved yet. He immediately makes his way to you, lightly shaking you to get up, you blink back the blurry black spots that are forming in your eyes and stand up with his help, both of his hands on the underside of your forearms.

You squint and slowly look up at him, and for what felt like a second, you see the worry that lines his face. Concern and need to protect you, even though you’re just a stranger. The moment doesn’t last long, you hear the familiar sound of screeching in the room adjacent to you. Flashlights shine in the direction of the noise and you hold your breath as all of you walk backward, keeping your eyes on the monster that emerges from the shadows. The twitchy movements are followed by the croaky noises of the infected, it tries to navigate, searching for its next prey. And on queue, the other Clicker screeches, indicating that there are two of them. This is no longer a museum, it’s a fucking horror house and all of you are in for the worst experience of your life.

You are now surrounded by predators, and prey, playing a twisted game of hide and seek. You press your back against the glass of the cabinet, Tess to your right, Ellie to your left, and Joel being the farthest left. He gestures to his eyes and ears, quietly mouthing, “They can’t see, but they can hear.”

The creature groans and croaks, clicking sounds from its throat. It’s right behind the glass, your eyes drift to the monster and see its jerky movements. You bring your eyes to look at Joel, he lifts his pointer finger to his lips, indicating to be incredibly still and silent. Fear is the darkness and the unknown, a hard-to-shake feeling, it overstays its welcome and leaves you panting.

Tess watches the monster make its way around the corner, limping and shaky. Ellie closes her eyes to try and control her breathing, and you get yourself ready for the fight you never wished for. ‘Why is it always so fucking dark?’ You wonder inside your head, The Clicker comes into view, and you hear an audible gasp come from Ellie. Shit.

The creature turns in your direction at full tilt, mouth wide open with its yellowing teeth, and gives the loudest high-pitch screech. Joel sprays bullets into the Clickers’ chest, but it fights back, he looks in your direction and yells out, “Run!”

The second clicker begins to sprint toward you and Tess shoots at it but the bullet misses. Tess grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, while you run with them. The four of you get separated, Tess trips and so do you and Ellie, she yells out to tell her, “Run… Run!”

Ellie crawls her under a table and finds her way out, while the Clicker runs after Tess. You are now at a crossroads, Joel is running at the other end of the exhibit while Tess heads in the opposite direction. You swiftly make a split-second decision and duck, right behind Ellie under the table, however, you do not crawl away, instead, you wait for the Clicker to run by you and quietly get up to follow after Tess. This is your chance to make things right, to ensure she doesn’t get bitten. Will this cost you your life?

You grab an ax hanging from the wall and run to the other side of the room, you hold it with both hands and feel the sweat coating your skin. You turn a corner and see Tess pinned up against the wall, the creature feasting on her neck, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, and you let out a scream, “No!”

The creature quickly turns and shrieks at you, angry for interrupting its meal, now it begins sprinting towards you, and the adrenaline pumps into your bloodstream and system. The anger starts to flare in your chest, the silence grows louder along with the ringing in your ears. You stand unwavering and with the courage that has been asleep for so long, it awakens at the right time.

Aiming directly at its head, you throw the axe with everything you have. It lands on a portion of its mushroom-infected face. Yet, it only slows the creature down a second, screaming and swinging its long mutated arms, and tries to locate you, but, it hears the commotion in the other room, loud pops of a revolver can be heard and you assume it’s Joel killing the other Clicker.

The abomination of what once was human turns and screeches at Joel and Ellie, it scampers towards them and you feel the pulse in your veins like a fighter, you fight the fear and let the rush take over, you sharply glance at the handgun Tess had dropped during the chaos and without hesitation, you pick it up and pray it still has some bullets in the chamber.

This was a skill you wished you never had to use. All those days in the range were just a precaution, the world is not kind to women, and you learned to protect yourself just in case. It meant only using a gun when you or the people you loved were in danger.

Using one hand, you swiftly remove the safety with your thumb, aim, and shoot at the head of the Clicker. With three loud pops and then a fourth one for good measure, the monster falls to its knees and on the ground.

Dead.

Blood oozes from the infected’s head, and you stand there watching the crimson splatter grow larger. Tess appears from the archway and takes in the vision before her. You turn to aim the gun at her, your fight instincts kick in, still high from the adrenaline, and you stand there breathing heavily.

Joel yells out your name. You blink once, then twice. A beat passes, and you don’t register Joel approaching you in a calm slow manner, his arm stretched out with his palm facing you, treating you as if you were a frightened animal, now he places his hand on top of yours, a touch so gentle you barely register it. Carefully and steadily he takes away the gun in your hand and turns the safety on before handing it to Tess, which she slowly takes, while you let it happen.

Your vision is blurry and tries to swallow away your guilt. You were too late. You couldn’t save her. Joel says your name again, he’s in front of you now, his frame covering and protecting Tess, but he has replaced the gun you once held, with his hand. Ellie watches the events unfold from the side, not wanting to create any more noise or movement. He squeezes your hand and whispers, “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

It’s not, but his voice brings you back anyway. You look to Tess, your eyes full of sorrow, and your voice quivers as you speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tess nods knowingly, she swallows her pride and sadness to say, “It’s okay. You tried… um, thank you.”

Her words completely snap out of your trance, and you see the world a little clearer now. You nod back at her, then bring your eyes to Joel, who is still holding your hand. His eyes dance around, observing and taking note of every detail of your face. You’re the first to break the staring contest, realizing that Tess doesn’t have a lot of time. You step back away from him, dropping his hand, “We should get going.”

Joel turns to Tess, “You all right?” She nods, “Twisted ankle, but yeah.” She limps over to Ellie, “You all right?”

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so…” Ellie says and pulls up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a bite from the infected. “You fucking kidding me?” she exclaims and turns to look at Joel, “I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

Tess stays silent at that, glancing at you to keep your mouth shut. You give a discreet nod in response, Tess calls out to Joel, “Hey. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Joel pushes the window up and opens, stepping out onto the roof, Ellie follows and you do too, leaving Tess for last, who plops down to rest her ankle, “Fuck.”Joel kneels and opens his pack to give Ellie a bandage, “Put this around your arm.” She takes it and says, “Thanks.” You watch as Ellie makes her way to a wooden plank, makeshift bridge, “Over there?” Joel glances over while continuing to fuss over Tess, “Yeah, I know it looks scary.”

“That was scary. This is wood.” Ellie states and proceeds to walk across the wood plank to get to the other building’s roof. Joel watches in disbelief and hollers, “Just wait there. Give us a minute.” He turns to look at you, “Can you go make sure she’s…” You only nod, knowing that Joel and Tess need to talk, you look at the wood plank they call a bridge and mumble to yourself, “If the way I die is falling from a high place, so be it.” 

You walk across with no problem and catch up to Ellie, “Hey,” you say as you stand by her and take in the view. “What happened to you back there?” Ellie asks, the wind blowing strands of hair away from her face. You huff, “I don’t know. The adrenaline took over, I guess.”

You both stand in silence now, then you can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel walking up to the right of Ellie, she merely glances at him and then turns back to see the State House in the distance, glittering under the sunlight. “Is it everything you hoped for?” Joel asks her, Ellie blinks but answers him, “Jury’s still out. But, man you can’t deny that view.”

You hear Tess approaching from behind, eager to keep moving, “Come on, let’s get there before it’s dark.” She turns and then climbs a ladder down, letting out a groan of pain no one question or brings up. Joel nods at Ellie to follow Tess which he does, you look at Joel as Ellie climbs down. And you held his gaze for a moment, then look to his broken watch, before climbing down after the young kid.

Leaves crunch with every step you take, Tess lightly limping ahead, she turns to look at you, and you could only stare back. Tess looks straight ahead once more, and you can’t help but wonder about the violence of the dog days and what could get you through this. You see the State House from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful sight, creeper vines growing on the pillars and sides of the edifice.

The group decides to hide behind an abandoned car near the state house, and immediately could tell that something was very wrong, “Where the fuck are they?” Tess harshly states, Joel, shakes his head and decides to go check the truck parked outside by the steps of the ruined State House.

Joel walks over cautiously to the door of the truck, he swings it open to aim his rifle at it, only for the seats to be empty. Joel sees the blood splattered on the sides of the door, and turns to mouth at you all, “Stay back.” He rounds the side of the truck and notices a recently deceased, he continues to the back of the truck, swinging the giant blue metal doors, to confront no one.

You follow Ellie and Tess as she demands, “Joel, what the fuck is going on?” Joel shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

No longer wanting to play along, you look down to see a trail of blood up the steps and into the State House, you hear someone call your name, but say nothing as you walk up to the doors of the building. You push your way through, briskly walking to the center of the structure, and you take a good look at the multiple dead people scattered on the ground. You shake your head and close your eyes, “Fuck.”

You hear the three come in after you and they notice immediately what happened, Tess goes into a panic, “Okay. I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She proceeds to open the kit boxes that contain nothing but supplies, searching for anything that could help them win.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks, and you reply, “No,” you nod to the man on the ground, Joel rolls him over with his boot and you continue, “One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost.”

Joel’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, “You knew? You knew and didn’t even bother to warn us that this was all for nothin’?” You raised your chin, “They were already dead hours before we got here.” His jaw clenched while you stood, fists clenched by your sides, and rolled your shoulders back, glaring at Joel.

Joel calls out to Tess, “Tess, what are you doing?” She ignores him and approaches Ellie, “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you?” Ellie responds unsure, “Uh, I don’t know. Just west.”

“Just west. Fuck. okay. Well, I mean, one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” Tess then goes to search one of the deceased Firefly’s pockets, “Joel, can you help me?”

“No.” He fumed, “Tess, it’s over. We are going home.”

“That’s not my fucking home!”

You let the exchange happen, while you move to one of the kits to retrieve a handgun, some ammo, and a small first-aid kit, and steal a backpack sitting on top of the chairs to shove all your supplies inside. Then, you hear Tess say the words you knew would happen, “I’m staying. I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

“Fuck.” Ellie whispers, “She’s infected.”

Tess sighs, and Joel’s eyes hardened and narrowed into slits, “Show me.” She takes a step forward and whispers his name, only for him to take a step back. Tess then steps back, anguish splashes across her face, then pulls the collar of her shirt and jacket, to reveal the growing infection on her neck, “Oops, right? And don’t bother taking it against her,” Tess gestures to you, “She did everything she could to save me, but I guess fate had already cut my string.”

Joel takes in a breath of disbelief while Tess looks to Ellie, “Take your bandage off.” Which she does to reveal no evidence of infection, just a new scar on her forearm to add to her collection. Tess makes her way to Ellie and holds her arm, “Look. Joel? This is real.” She drags Ellie closer to him, “Joel, she’s fucking real.” Her grip suddenly becomes twitchy and she wills her hand to stop shaking and hides it behind her back, she stares directly into the eyes of whom she once loved, “I need you to get her to Bill and Frank’s.”

Joel is shaking his head as he replies, “No.” But Tess continues to speak, “They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No… I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not gonna take her.” He says and you watch each part you knew to unfold, Tess whispers to him, “They will because you’ll convince them. Yes, you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…”

“No.” He stubbornly states, but Tess lets the tears stream down her face and exclaims, “Now, you shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.”

He grants her request and listens, “This is your chance. You get her there. You keep her alive and you set everything right. All the shit we did.” Joel shakes his head as Tess begs, “Please say yes, Joel. Please.”

Despite the somber mood, a screech from one of the corpses has come to life and taken its revenge on the living, Ellie screams out, “Oh, fuck!” But your reaction time is faster this time, and you no longer hesitate as you walk towards the parasite, remove the safety of the gun and shoot it point blank in the head. Joel comes up behind you, and takes notice of what you’re staring at, the Cordyceps patch has awakened the rest of the infected and you hear the croaks and shrieks from outside of the State House.

Joel runs up to one of the doors to check how many are on the way, he shuts the door and locks it after making out the horde approaching. “How many?” Tess asks, Joel walks past her, “All of ‘em. Maybe a minute.”

Tess takes one of the rifles off of the floor and uses the butt of the gun to remove the lid on the fuel barrels. She pushes it to the floor, and the clear yellow liquid pours out of it and coats the floor. You help and do the same to the other barrel, knowing how this will end for Tess. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks, watching you and Tess scatter grenades on the ground, “Making sure they don’t follow you.”

Tess then approaches Joel, breathless and shaking, “Joel. Save who you can save.”

He clenches his jaw and his nostrils flared, angry, confused, upset, everyone he ever loved leaves or dies. He stares at her, soaking in her image as much as he can, and then he makes his decision. He quickly grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, her protests can be heard as it fades away around the corner, she punches his arm to try and break loose but he’s much stronger, “No! We’re not leaving her! Get off me, you fucker!”

Tess says your name and you turn to face her, “You weren’t lying? About the whole different universe thing?” You can only shake your head in response, hoping she can see your heart breaking into pieces.

Tess hums and gives you a small smile, “Take care of them for me, please? Especially Joel. Stubborn as a mule but you’ll learn to love him, just like I did.” You decide to grant the woman her dying wish, you nod and whisper, “Goodbye, Tess.”

You turn to run and didn’t look back, pushing out of the wooden doors, while tears stream down your face slightly obscuring your vision. But you manage to catch up with Joel and Ellie, as you did, the blast from the State House is sudden and loud. The smell of burning kerosine fills the air and you turn to look back at the raging fire, Joel turns and points his rifle at the area, ready to shoot just in case, only to hear screeching and the infected burning on the steps of the building.

You stare and one-half of your senses silently wish Tess would walk out, but you can no longer rewind, she’s gone. Ellie pants, trying to catch her breath, tears rimming her eyes and Joel lowers his rifle to turn away from the roaring flames. You and Ellie turn to watch his lone silhouette walk away from you both.

A/N: WELL that’s the end of Episode 2! Lowkey was fighting invisible demons to get this chapter edited and out bcs I wanted to improve on describing movement, anger, sorrow, etc. IT WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT T^T but I hope I didn’t disappoint ya’ll <3 ALSO YEP MHM TAGLIST! Send me an ask so I can add ya! It’ll stay open for a tiny period of time so send away :D

I’m proud of you for doing the right thing by trying to save Tess! Even though we all know you secretly admire Joel and would have chased after him to ensure his safety with Ellie. hehehehehe 

Yes, the reader only knows everything up to Episode 3, meaning she has no clue about the rest of the show! She knows (most) parts of the video game but alas we know Television series like to change things so she’s lowkey fucked lol

I LIVE FOR YOUR COMMENTS ya’ll crack me up and have the best reactions. Thank you for your support and love. I’ll try and get the next chapter out soon!

-Grace

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[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on. 

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Notes: HEYYYYY Guess who's back??!! It me!! I just want to say a HUGE thank you to all you lovely readers; the support for this story has been unreal and I'm eternally grateful for it; I literally couldn't even put it into words. I'm doing a lot better now and I'm in a much better head space and ready get back into the wonderful world of this story. I have slightly changed a sentence in chapter 11 (The flashback of winter) just to include Ada's medical knowledge because it was bugging me that I missed it the first time. It's just a little change and it doesn't really change the chapter in any. It was just something I needed to change from a writers POV if that makes sense. Anyway thank you for sticking with me for so long; you incredible people make my day with your support/comments etc… its readers like you that really keep me motivated to continue writing so thank you for that.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and it doesn't disappoint as it's taken me a while to get back into the swing of things so hopefully I'm not too rusty and it's not a let down. Love yous lots hope you enjoy the chapter ❤️

Chapter Fifteen

They’d been driving for what felt like hours and they were running out of road. Tommy had managed to follow Joel’s tracks from the gate, although at times it had been difficult with the rain washing most of them away. Eventually they followed their way out towards the ski lift outpost; only to be greeted with disappointment when they found the place empty. There were signs of life however; muddy boot and hoof prints dried to the floor from the storm that had now passed. The crumbs of half eaten carrots litter the ground and open cans of stew left scattered along one of the tables near the recently lit fire pit. Dina moved to inspect it; taking a hold of the spoon left in the pan, both stuck together by the burnt remains of the leftover stew sticking to the bottom of it.  

“Well; at least we know he was definitely here.” Dina joked awkwardly trying to lighten the mood a little. But Tommy didn’t see the funny side; his nostrils flaring in frustrated anger as he stomped forward kicking at the table, sending the empty cans sputtering across the floor. 

“Goddamn it!” He yelled. The sound echoing through the dead quiet. Ada and Dina both flinched at the outburst. The older woman moved towards him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder in a feeble attempt to calm him. 

“Taking it easy Tommy.” She tried but he threw his shoulder aggressively, shrugging her away as he whipped around on his heel to face her. “Easy?!” He barked. “We keep just missing him, how the fuck are we supposed to find to him when he had a two day head start?!” 

Ada signed deeply trying to ignore the sting of Tommy’s spurn. She knew he didn’t mean it. He was tired. They all were. And frustrated and worried about Joel. It was hard not to lose your temper at the situation; especially one that was more of less of their own making. She and Tommy blamed themselves for basically driving Joel away from Jackson in the first place. Even now Ada was rerunning their last conversation over and over again in her head. Her guilt twisting in both her stomach and tightening within her chest at all the things she could’ve said instead. But that kind of thought would get her nowhere now. She needed to focus on the here and now. And the only thing that mattered was bringing Joel home. 

She took another breath; her eyes searching the room for any more signs that Joel may have left behind. “We just have to be smart about this.” She wondered aloud as she continued looking. “When we move on, we have to be certain we’re headed in the right direction.”

“And how the hell are we supposed to do that?! Huh?” Tommy scoffed bitterly, throwing his hands up in defeat. “We don’t even know where Joel’s going!”

She turned back towards her brother in law; her mind scrambling desperately for an idea or a lead. Her eyes staring down intensely at the floor before glancing back up at Tommy. “Well maybe he’s going back to Boston? You talked about your time in the QZ right?” She offered hopefully. Tommy’s lip curled in disdain at her idea; pacing back and forth. 

“I told him but that don’t mean he listened.” He dismissed. “And I doubt he’d head back home to Texas… he knows there’s nothing there anymore. I’ve been, I’ve seen it. The house is wrecked and it’s been picked clean.” 

The room fell silent at Tommy’s condescending tone as Ada bit her lip to keep from saying anything that might just aggravate the situation. Her eyes glancing across towards Dina who was looking around the back of the room; obviously trying to keep out of the way. Ellie had stayed by the door at first but now was kneeled down behind the remains of the cafe bar; pulling through the drawers and cabinets. Throwing away any junk that didn’t aid in her search for Joel. Her heart ached as she watched her. The teen hadn’t uttered a word since leaving Jackson. It was clear even now that she blamed herself for everything, she was so tired of this. The Fireflies had caused them nothing but grief and anger ever since she’d met them. Even years later, after the fuckers had disbanded they were still tearing apart her family and she despised them for it. 

The thought made her pause for a moment. Wait…the Fireflies…Joel's letter; her stomach dropped at the realization.

“Then he’s going after the Fireflies!” Dina announced, speaking her thoughts before she could voice them herself. Ada offered the girl a broken smile in spite of herself, a wave of relief that at least someone was on the same page as her.  But once again…Tommy only scoffed bitterly at the suggestion. 

“And why the hell would he go after the people that tried to kill him?!” He spat, pulling a face at Dina as she backed down to sit on the one the couches. Her head hung in shame like a child that had just been scolded. Ada’s blood was beginning to boil now at his attitude. She stomped over towards her brother in law; standing toe to toe with the man. Her dark eyes staring him down as her patience was beginning to wear thin. 

“Think about it, everything goes back to them for him.” She explained trying to keep herself calm. “I told him what happened and what he did to save Ellie. But he still couldn’t get his head around exactly who the fireflies were and what they meant.” She took a breath clenching her fists by her side, almost daring Tommy to shoot her down again. But the man just scoffed in her face and damn if she wasn’t tempted to punch the condescending bastard in the nose all over again!

 “Great! That’s just fucking great! He’s going after the Fireflies which means he could be anywhere by now! We don’t know where the fireflies were even headed!” 

“Yes we do! You said you got word they were in Seattle.”

“Rumors, Ada, I heard rumors. Nothing concrete. And it don’t matter anyway, that was between me and a few of the boys on lookout. I never even told Joel about it!”

Okay, now Ada was getting pissed with him. She trembled with anger; her eyes wide and nostrils flared as she once again stood toe to toe with Tommy. Her fist somehow managed to unclench as she instead pointed her sharp finger into his chest; her voice quivering. “Well I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!” She yelled into his face.” You just keep shooting down everyone else’s!”

“Because I’m trying to make sure that we know where we’re headed. We can’t go running in any damn direction, just hoping we stumble into Joel by accident.” They were practically nose to nose now; almost growling at each other like challenging wolves about to snap at each other throats for the kill. Eyes blazing with anger and frustration that had no outlet except aimed at the person in front of them. 

“She didn’t say we should!” Dina said defensively as she tried to pull them apart. It was a futile attempt however, both were stubborn and both were angrily still glaring at the other. Until Ellie slammed one of the chairs against the floor to grab their attention. 

“For fucks sake enough! God this arguing is getting us nowhere! Everyone just shut the fuck up okay?!” She growled. The room grew quiet again. The tension dissipating as Ellie glared at the both of them, until eventually they backed away from the other. Both awkwardly cowering like wounded animals. Clearly embarrassed of their childish behavior. They glance at one another with an apologetic look in their eyes. They knew  she was right. They were the adults and they were acting like moody teenagers. While the actual teenagers seemed to be the only ones with their heads on straight. Ellie took a breath as everyone turned to look at her. She sighed once again as she gestured to the record book that was left open on the table in front of her. Ellie didn’t know why, she just knew it was Joel who’d left it there. Her eyes running across the writing from happier times. She glanced back at others with tears welling in her eyes. “I know where Joel’s going… he’s heading back to Salt Lake City.” She said with unshakeable certainty. 

“What? You mean back to the hospital? Why the hell would he be going there? The Fireflies quit that place years ago.” Tommy pointed out gently. But Ellie was in no mood to argue anymore; shaking her head defiantly. 

“Put yourself in his place…Joel’s trying to remember things. He wants to get his memory back; if you were him where else would you start?” She explained and in that moment everything clicked into place. 

“Holy shit you’re right. He’s trying to retrace his steps! Ellie you’re a fucking genius!” He beamed, a broken laugh of disbelief leaving him as his eyes lit up.  “Everyone back in the truck, we move now we might be able to catch him up.” 

No one wasted a second as they scrambled to their feet; all four rushing back towards the door and out into the truck. She didn’t know how she knew but she was positive that was where Joel was heading. After all, it was exactly where she had gone for answers herself and it was also the place where mournfully she had lost him all those years ago; perhaps now it would be the place where she finally got Joel back again.

[whorefordazai]

“Us”

ft. Dazai x gn! reader

genre: comfort, fluff

warnings: suicidal themes (?)

word count: 2.2k

synopsis: even though it’s rare for him to express emotions, dazai’s having one of those days where he can’t help but really contemplate if there’s any value to living. The only difference, is that you’re there to give him the comfort he’s craved his whole life. 

Dazai softly exhaled through his nose, lazily grabbing the bottle of whiskey next to him. He brought it up to his lips, taking a long bitter swing. The taste burned his throat, he could practically feel the pungent liquid pouring into his stomach.

God, how he hated that bitter taste so much.

But there was something about that familiar taste, familiar swing of the bottle that comforted him in the emptiest way possible. A small chuckle left his lips. That sounds like something an alcoholic would say...

Was he falling again? He couldn’t fall. But then again, he had always been falling...even though no one could see...actually...Dazai was stuck. Stuck in mid air. There was something that wouldn’t let him fall.

And that something, was you.

“Dazai...?”

His body lay still for a moment—as if wanting to savor these few seconds of silence before he could talk to you. He let his head hang low, a small smirk playing on his lips. Messy brown bangs falling over his forehead, his hazel brown eyes took in your appearance.

“Sorry I was late, Dazai.” You walked into the room and put down the bag of groceries. “I had leftover paperwork to do, and I would’ve called you but my phone died.” You sheepishly scratched the back of your neck, hoping that Dazai wouldn’t be too disappointed.

But then again, he wouldn’t have shown it even if he was disappointed.

“It’s okay,” his lips pulled into a small smile. Shrugging off your coat, you put it to the side and knelt down to sit next to him on the futon.

The futon wasn’t that big, ever since you two started staying with each other—you didn’t really mind the lack of space.

Sitting next to him, you glanced out the big window. The sky was a mix of oranges and reds. The sun was setting. Shoulders brushing and his hand on your thigh, you turned to faced Dazai. Putting a gentle hand on his cheek, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, taking in his familiar scent.

His hands immediately snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. What seemed like minutes went by, and you finally pulled away. Dazai groaned. 

“Hey! I want more kisses. That wasn’t enough for all the lost time.” He fake pouted. You laughed, and kissed him once again. This time, the kiss was deeper.

Pulling away, your foreheads were only centimeters apart from each other when you looked into Dazai’s eyes. He had that amusing smile on his lips.

Your thumb brushed over his brow bone, caressing the skin around his eyes. “You’ve got that glassy look in your eyes again.” You whispered.

It was barely noticeable, but his face dropped for a millisecond. “Oh? What do you mean?” He chuckled.

You tilted your head, a little bit of hair falling over your face. “You’re drinking again.”

He gave smile—but you knew it was a tired one. “But I always drink. You have an issue with me drinking now?” His tone held no hostility to it, it felt more empty than anything.

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. “No, definitely not. I don’t have a problem.” You laughed. “Its just that we normally drink together. So I know you’re thinking about something when you’re drinking alone.”

He blinked a couple times, and you smiled again. You brought your finger up to his cheek, softly poking his skin. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s okay, we’re fine.”

Dazai inspected you for a minute. The small smile that tugged on your lips—oh that familiar smile. Your eyes always held that dreamy look in them. It held fierceness too. But it was also blank yet strikingly luminescent. As if you knew everything there was to know in this world, yet you also knew nothing.

Dazai couldn’t help but giggle in his head. You were definitely strange, something he’d never encountered in his entire life. But here he was, sitting next to the one person that was keeping him going.

He bit his lip. “I was just...thinking...”

You rested the side of your head on your knees, facing him. “Actually, I was thinking about some stuff too. I came to a realization.”

Realization? What were you thinking? Did you no longer want to be with him? A sudden race went through Dazai’s heart. You were the only person in the world who he couldn’t 100% predict. And that scared him. That tremendously scared him.

He nevertheless, smiled. “And what was that realization?”

You smiled back and buried you face in your knees, hugging them closely to your chest. Your voice came out muffled. “I can’t say it yet. I’ll have to process it for a few days.”

He raised an eyebrow. Studying your body language made it even more difficult to figure out what was going on in your head. You looked happy, giddy even. Hugging yourself, you looked like a tiny child with a sugar rush.

What were you so happy about? Was it because of him? Dazai couldn’t recall what he had done to make you like this—or if it was because of him in the first place.

He watched as you sat up and rested your head on his shoulder. He instinctively leaned into you. Your eyes kind of dropped—but it wasn’t the sad droop. It felt almost calming.

You intertwined both your hands and kissed his knuckles. Dazai would be lying if he said the tiny gesture didn’t make his stupid heart soar.

“Don’t worry, Dazai. It wasn’t a bad realization. It was a good one—a little scary—but it was a really good one.”

He hated that he released a breath when you clarified your thoughts. Releasing a breath—that meant he was scared to begin with.

“In that case, I’m glad. You look happy.” He softly said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“Happy...I’m not sure it’s quite that. I feel...kind of...I can’t even explain it.” You chuckled, rubbing soft circles on Dazai’s knuckles with your thumb.

He was still for a moment, studying you again. But then he gave up. An amused chuckle left his mouth. There was no use trying to study you right now. He dismissed the thought and looked back up at the sunset.

This was enough for him. Just being in each other’s arms, eating crabs, and falling asleep in that rusty old futon that neither of you bothered to change—that was enough for him.

“Say...Dazai. You once asked me if there’s any real value to living.”

He froze. Why had you brought that up now? His mind raced with countless possibilities.

He leaned his head against yours. Caressing your hand in his, he inhaled. For once, he didn’t feel scared. He didn’t feel violated. He didn’t feel as though your eyes were piercing into his thoughts. He felt...at peace.

“And...? Do you think there’s really any value to this thing we called living?”

“Of course not.”

His eyes darted, glancing at you. To his surprise, you looked perfectly normal. Perfectly at peace. In fact, if your eyes weren’t closed he would’ve seen that mischievous glint in them. 

Your voice spoke out like silk running through coarse hands. “There’s no actual value to living. Everything we do in this life could mean nothing wherever we end up. Whether it be the after life, or the fucking end of a simulation.”

Your words felt like a bullet stuck in his heart. Of course you were right. But he had never expected you to say that. He turned his head to face you. “So? If there’s no value to living then why are you still alive, y/n? We could both easily die in a double suicide—“

Oh.

He cut off his own words. Why did he say that? It sounded too harsh. It sounded too real. Too real for him. Of course, he’d jokingly asked you to commit suicide with him plenty of times before. But this time, it felt different. Although, letting out those words made him feel a little comfort—and he hated that. He looked down at you, your eyes were half lidded. The ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

What had he done? He wasn’t supposed to say that. Odasaku wouldn’t have liked that. Odasaku would’ve said “I reckon that’s something you don’t say to your lover, Dazai.”

He was right. That’s definitely not something you say to the person you love. He fucked up. But then again, you weren’t any ordinary person. If you were ordinary then Dazai would’ve never batted an eye lash at you in the first place. 

“I’m still alive...I’m still living for...” you began to say. You turned your head to face him. Your eyes squeezed a little when you smiled. Hands placing themselves on Dazai’s cheeks, you began to caress his soft skin.

Oh.

He felt his heart physically sink again, if that was even possible. He knew what you were going to say. It was painfully obvious with the way you were holding his face with feather-like touches. The way your eyes held so much warmth when you looked at him. He didn’t deserve it. And neither did you. 

Dazai couldn’t take it. He knew you would say “Dazai...I’m living for you.” And if you said that, he didn’t think his heart would be able to take it. It would hurt too damn much. Goddamn it, why did you ever get yourself involved with someone like him? He wanted to scream out “You deserve someone so much better!” but his throat was dry. Instead, he gulped. His voice wavered a little. Quiet and unable to sound calm. 

“Don’t. Don’t say that you’re living for me.”

The warmth in your eyes didn’t leave, instead confusion was added. You tilted your head, and softly smiled. “I’m not living for you, Dazai.”

Oh.

He didn’t expect you to flat out say that. But it’s what he wanted, right? He was even more confused than before. Part of him...part of him was selfish for wanting you to say you were living for him. Because it was cliche. It was perfectly predictable and safe enough for Dazai to maneuver around.

It wasn’t even for a narcissistic reason. He was expecting it—but you had said the complete opposite. But it’s what he wanted, right? So why did he feel his heart sink again?

This is selfish. Odasaku would be disappointed. He wanted you all to himself...and that was selfish. But then again, Dazai was a selfish man—or so that’s what he thought of himself. How could an angel like you ever love a devil like him?

“Dazai....yoohoo.” you waved a hand in front of his face. When he snapped out of his trance, you chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you, silly. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Let me finish.”

He slowly nodded, eyes coming back into focus. You grasped his hand tighter.

“I...I’m not living for you. But I’m not living for myself either.”

He raised an eyebrow. His voice was smooth while he caressed your hair. “So then. What are you living for, darling?”

“Us. I’m living for us.”

Oh...

He thought his heart would sink like the last few times. But strangely enough...it didn’t. Instead, he felt his body tingle and his head spin from the buzz he was feeling. It felt euphoric.

“But that contradicts what you said...” his voice held curiosity. “You agreed that there’s no value to living.”

You suddenly grinned, moving up to sit on Dazai’s lap, almost straddling him. His hands immediately went to your waist. Grabbing his face, you kissed his lips. Dazai felt you smile into the kiss, and he did as well.

“But Dazai...” you smiled breathlessly, pulling away for air. “How do we know there’s no value to living if we haven’t lived at all?”

His mouth was a little open, eyes slightly wide. You were...you were definitely something he’d never faced in his life. You were something else. You made him feel...feel.

“So, tell me. Have you lived yet?”

You smirked. “Fuck no...I’ve been alive for so many years, yet I haven’t lived at all.” Your thumb brushed his bottom lip, which send shivers down Dazai’s spine. You seemed to draw out the last few words. “But...I think I’m starting to.”

“Y/n...” Dazai whispered. His eyes seemed to lit up. This all felt so good. It felt dangerously real. But so good.

“Dazai...” you smiled. “I love you...”

Dazai smiled again. This wasn’t the first time you both said “I love you” to each other.

You continued. “For the first time in my life...I love you not because I feel like I have to—but because I want to.”

His eyes slightly widened. Was this really happening? Or was this some dream mixed with a sick joke?

No. It was real.

Dazai knew it was real because he felt his fingers slightly shake on your waist. You smiled, leaning back down to kiss him. You placed your hands over his and stopped the shaking. His arms wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You hands snaked behind his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Us...say that again. I like that.” Dazai breathed out, pulling back. This was really happening. He was—he was so lucky. How the fuck did he get so lucky?

Odasaku would’ve been...proud.

You smiled, nodding. You observed his eyes. They were still glassy—but there was something different about them. Something nice. Something you would give your whole life to see over and over again. Something you would like to live for.

“Us.”

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