#also btw i wrote this with beta

[overnightheartbeats]

continued from here // @cursivebloodlines

Getting a call from Tessa usually meant there was a plan in progress. Diego knew he had to prepare for some last minute adventure. He may not tell her, but he had learned to love that about her. He was almost certain that, without her, he would rarely leave the house. That's how he ended up here, still in his work suit - rushing to catch the sunset at this view she swore was the best of the city. He didn't fight her on that statement, at least not yet. Diego had a few spots of his own, though now, he wasn't too sure if they rivaled this one. Besides, it was also a plus that she even chose to show him this place.

Diego laid next to her, tossing his backpack to the side and allowing himself to be captivated by this. The view, the company, and just...the day. It was all mesmerizing, though it also helped that they had not started bickering about their latest disagreement. It was inevitable, a matter of time before one of them said the wrong thing. It was always easy for him to talk back or take her sass, probably because Diego knew that they were close at the end of the day. That, this was their way of communicating and despite it all, they really care about each other. The idea of caring about each other had been on his mind lately. Taking over all his thoughts. Once, he had told her the wrong thing. The right thing to shoot all hope down, but the wrong thing for him and what he truly wanted. It was easier to believe that things were less messy that way, that they couldn't handle an extra layer of chaos now. Still, the question wouldn't leave his mind. Do you love me? A hint of regret immediately made its presence known. Why poke the bear when he had already shot it all down? He couldn't answer that.

As the night took over, Diego was grateful for the darkness. It helped hide some of his embarrassment for asking. He didn't dare look over, the question filling the air and his gaze on the sky. Anyone would guess he asked the stars if they loved him, but Tess knew otherwise. Diego knew. He continued looking up, the words quickly leaving his mouth. "You know what I mean..." Why were they pretending otherwise?

Finally, he turned over to see her. Maybe her face said what she was delaying. Diego liked to believe he could read faces pretty well, it came with the job after all. His eyes closed slowly upon feeling her touch, he didn't fight it or question it. He didn't want to say anything to scare her off. Diego felt her closer, the way her skin brushed against his. He almost wondered if this was his answer, if that's all he needed to know. Would he be content with that? With the in between? In that moment, he answered his own questions. Yes and yes. He could live with whatever she was willing to give him. Anything her generosity could offer.

But, no. Eventually, he would want more. All or nothing. He wanted to be the guy that could be satisfied with crumbs, with bits of love, but that wasn't him. He needed to know that he had earned someone's love, that he could give his love freely without fear that one day it'd be too much. But maybe for her...maybe he could pretend to be satisfied with pieces.

He followed her lead, sitting up on the blanket. The moment was over, the area her fingertips touched now felt cold. Empty. Diego shook his head slowly, knowing this answer all too well. As friends, of course. It felt like an easy let down. Though, maybe he deserved it. He studied her face, the way her eyes missed his, the way she had shifted closer to him, but now moved slightly back when she sat up. Impossible to read. All he did read was that she was nervous. "Friends, that I understand." Inevitably, he rolled his eyes at her last remark. Did she really think he'd joke about this? "Why would I be joking about this? It's a terrible joke." A hand ran through his hair, a deep breath falling from his lips. "I don't mean as friends. I have been thinking a lot about us. I know our last conversation...it was bad. Consider this a redo. Do you have..other feelings for me?"

[ohitslen]

✨New Vashwood fanfic incoming!✨

I just love the idea of Vash and his emotions being somewhat difficult to handle with all the bottling up he does and his plant characteristics impacting on his reactions :Dc

This fanfic has been beta read by the amazing @molten-rainbows ! (check his fanfics out too in here!)

Thank you so much for your patience and support man, without it I wouldn't have been improving so much ever since you read this and gave me advice for it <3

[glendover]

hmmm this has a little kick to it

[evorathesylvurr]

“Hi i just needed to hurt you.” -Me, to my roommate

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hey! Was just wondering, could you do a part 2 for puppy! Yuji x reader, where Yuji successfully breeds reader, (don’t ask how it’s possible lol) and reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, so Yuji tries to tell her she is by rubbing her belly, or laying on it and always holding it. Also some smut if you still do that kinda stuff! I understand if you wouldn’t want to do it! But I would really appreciate it! Live your work btw! <3

Based off I Love Yu

Kind of a what-if since originally there was an implication that he couldn't breed Reader, but let's do it! <3 Thank you to Avy for beta-ing for me again.

AN: It's been a while since I wrote non-solo smut I think. I love Itadori he's already really sweet and cute like a pup! I tried to fit some smut in there so I hope this is something like you were thinking.

CW: NSFW, Smut, Oral (F!Receiving), Interspecies (Puppy Hybrid), pregnancy✨

Filter tags Notsfw, Adelssmut, tw: hybrids, tw: pregnancy

You didn’t understand what was wrong with you.

You’ve been feeling so rundown. No matter how much you sleep, the fatigue doesn’t break. It didn’t help that you could barely keep anything down either, surviving off nothing but toast over the last three days.

The only bright spot in your day recently is your precious puppy boy. Yuji is so sweet to you nowadays, well, he’s always sweet but even more so as of late. He constantly stares at you with big brown eyes and holds his arms around your waist while resting his head against your belly. The warmth of his full weight on you did wonders for the random waves of cramps that hit you after a long day on your feet.

This time when you get home from work, immediately collapsing on your bed with nothing but a towel on after a long shower, he’s there. His fingers tiptoe along your shoulder, a curious set of pokes against your steaming skin.

In a small burst of energy, you plant your hand between two furry ears and briefly pet his head before passing back out into the sheets, sparing no care that you were making them damp. The coolness of them felt too good right now.

Yuji presses a hand to the back of your head, mimicking your actions as he lays on his side to try to catch a glimpse of your face.

“Mad?” he asks.

“I’m not mad, sweetheart.” You work the energy to turn your head to face him. It isn’t the first time you collapsed into the bed in the same fashion. Usually, it meant you were burnt out at work by an assignment or a stupid co-worker. “I just don’t feel good today.”

Big eyes going soft in an apology, he frowns at you before having the excellent idea to squeeze the back of your ankles and shuffle you around. You never understand exactly where he finds this strength, even with all the muscles, but you don’t fight it as he wiggles you around to flip you onto your back.

His hands slide up the side of your legs, shifting your towel to expose one thigh before wrapping around your torso. He scrambles on top of you. His head pushes to your stomach, and he muffles a soft “love you” against it.

“Love me?” he asks, and it makes you wince. He never really asks that unless he did something that he thought would get him in trouble. He learned to get really good at asking once he figured out that buttering you up was an easy way to slip out of scolding.

This time, it concerns you that he might’ve taken your tiredness as something he did wrong, so you run a hand along his upper back. “Of course, I do.”

His tail wags and his face shines again with that smile you love as he cuddles against your belly again. It’s enough to make you ignore it when another cramp seizes, all save for a small whimper and wince that causes his ears to twitch.

Your puppy moves on his own before you can request him to get off your stomach. Warm, big hands hold down your hips and pull at your towel enough so he can pepper your lower belly with kisses. They progress slowly down the center of your stomach, crossing the border to ghost between your legs.

“Are you trying to make me feel better?” you breathe out. With how his tail increases its pace, swinging back and forth fast enough to create a light swishing sound, and how his smooth wide tongue flattens against your mound, you take it as a yes.

And oh boy does it work to make you forget everything when he sets to work. His nails scratch against your skin, biting into the meat of your thighs as his tongue laps at your clit.

You moan eagerly, gripping at your sheets and lifting your hips to greet his sloppy mouth. He makes out with your cunt, almost like he’s trying to devour it as his tongue slides between your folds and his upper lip brushes your bead.

“Sweetheart, do you still know how to use your fingers?”

Yuuji growls and places a kiss on your thigh, smiling against your skin at the wet stain he marks you with. He brings two fingers at your entrance, glancing back up to watch your crumbling expression as he curls them into you.

“That’s it. G-Good boy,” you praise, and he knows he’s struck the right spot that’ll have your pretty moans vibrating in his sensitive ears.

You smell heavenly when he finally flattens his tongue back out over your clit. He knows you’re his, all his, when your walls flutter and suck his fingers deeper into their spongy hold.

He sucks in a breath through his nose. Your scent makes his cock twitch and the swollen and firm feel of your clit tells him you’re feeling good now, and he’s so happy to return the feeling you give him when you constantly float around with the pheromone of his pups.

Yuuji wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you closer. It makes you force a hand down into his hair, praises of “good boy”, “keep going”, ”almost there, sweetheart” panting wetly from your lips until your legs quiver in his strong hold.

When he pulls away, his face is coated in your release, from his nose down, far beyond where his tongue can reach but he wastes no time sucking your taste from his fingers with a smile as he stares at your spent form.

You may be sweaty and out of breath, but you look much happier now. Yuuji crawls over you, sliding his hips between your legs. His hard length presses against your stomach as he presses kisses to the center of your neck, his soft ginger ears tickling the underside of your chin.

Your heart could almost hold the world when he forces his full weight against you to cuddle you.

“I love you.”

You coo at him, scratching fingers through the back of his hair. “I love you too, Yu Yu.”

When he hears your voice, his cock aches. He whines against your skin, wishing that this time would go faster so he could breed you again already. He guesses it doesn’t matter this time, he knows you’ll still at least feel better after he knots you, even if your body is already occupied.

And the whimper you make when he parts you with his cock proves him right.

When the morning comes, you don’t want to get out of bed. You’d rather spend all day cuddling Yuuji and smothering yourself into the sweet strength of his muscles. Alas, you force yourself to get up and go to the doctor’s appointment you made for yourself otherwise you’d never feel better.

You let Yuuji sleep, sliding out from under him, throwing on the first thing you see in your closet, and heading to the clinic.

You enter the building with the expectation of getting some antibiotics or confirmation of stomach flu at worst. Instead, you’re given a list of vitamins to take, a note with a list of symptoms at the bottom all culminating in a diagnosis that reads: pregnant, and a little baby badge to attach to your bag so people won’t hassle you for using the special seats on the subway.

You’re scowling the entire way back home, stopping briefly at a drug store to pick out a couple of different pregnancy tests. There’s no way those stupid doctors had it right.

When you return home, you slam the door behind you, spooking your puppy as you rush to the bathroom. You take the first test that morning and the second one that afternoon, and they both come back with the same result: positive.

Your heart is racing the entire rest of the evening as you sit on the couch and stare at that dumb stick for what seems like forever, thinking that maybe if you stare at it enough your result will change. The only thing that keeps you from going ballistic is Yuuji sitting underneath you, one leg shuffled between yours and the other on the outside of your right. His chin rests right on your knee as he watches you talk with your friend on the phone.

“Is it someone you met on that app?”

“I haven’t even gone on more than a first date.”

Yuuji starts to get impatient the longer your conversation goes on, and you ignore him. He shuffles up onto the couch and collapses his head against your shoulder, making you grimace and shift, so he doesn’t knock the phone out your hand.

“You don’t think that maybe—"

“No, it was only two, and one was for coffee and the other we didn’t ride together,” you add on, and you never drunk enough to where you think someone could have taken advantage of you. “Yuuji cut it out,” you scold when he starts to whine and pull at your waist. Sensing he wasn’t going to stop any time soon, you decide to hang up. “I’ll call you back.”

You put down the phone, turning to your pup to ask him what was wrong. He snuggles against you, rubbing his head against your shoulder and sliding an arm around your stomach.

He mumbles out your name and starts to weigh you back, just enough so your lower back presses against the arm of the couch and he can scoot down to place his head on your stomach and breathe in deep.

“Love you,” he mumbles and looks as though he could almost fall asleep against you. You almost repeat it before the unsettling realization crashes down on you.

That’s impossible, isn’t it? You’re not even the same species!

“Yuuji,” he snaps his head up, pinning his ears back at the rough sound of your voice, “Did you do this?” you ask him, showing him the pregnancy stick. He doesn’t seem to understand so you put it in words he can. “Breed?” you ask.

He senses that you finally get it and gives you the widest smile you think you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s almost enough to make you laugh. Almost.

“You’re downright proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

Happily, he buries his forehead against your stomach. “Good boy?”

You sigh but pet him anyway, seeing that this is very much your fault in the first place. Besides you can’t stay mad at that face. “Very good boy.”

[ohbo-ohno]

I’m feral and need more of your a/b/o thoughts. Like I need to know your thoughts on alpha!141 snatching omega reader to keep for themselves

yknow i was gonna say that i haven't touched abo in forever, but then i remembered the gaz thing i just posted the other day lmao

(btw i wrote alpha 141 here but i think abo poly 141 would have alphas price/ghost and betas soap/gaz. probably. maybe. idfk.)

cw for noncon and kidnapping below the cut

i find poly 141 x reader really difficult to write outside of porn, since there's already so many interesting dynamics in regular poly 141. i have a hard time adding in a FIFTH element, yk? especially when that fifth element has to be a reader insert instead of some sorta OC or smth

anyway, i think the best dark poly 141 x reader idea is basically reader being used as a sex toy for the guys. like, she's there for them to relieve their stress in. but in an abo au i could totally see them using her as an element of softness in their lives. with 4 alphas in one home, you need an omega to soften things up a bit

and there you are. soft and sweet and small (compared to them at least) and just so perfect. you're the unlucky bastard who happens to smell appealing to all of them, and you're whisked away before you really even know it

they'd have to be sneaky, probably. you'd have a positive reaction to their scents too, so maybe johnny or gaz gets you to go on a date with one or both of them and then kidnaps you. maybe price or ghost just grabs you one day. something like that, i think, but there's much higher angst potential is kyle and/or johnny lulls you into a false sense of security first (and you know i love a good betrayal)

they'd push and prod at your instincts to force you into a heat before anything else. lock you in their den (soon to be their nest) and surround you in their scents, make low purrs to convince your instincts that you're safe

and as terrified as you are - and oh boy, are you - there's only so much you can actually fight your instincts. lets say you're either not on heat blockers, or maybe the blockers are weak, but for whatever reason you're very susceptible to all of their little pushes

they've got you knotted and mated by the end of the week

it's odd, coming up from that heat. your neck aches all the way around, to the point that it's painful to even turn your head. despite the unfamiliar room, your brain screams at you that you're safe, that you're in your nest.

it doesn't take long to put together the pieces. it also doesn't take long to become very very upset

thing is, it's too late to do anything now. you can't break a bond, and they're not giving you any opportunities to get away. you're stuck with these alphas who have performed the greatest invasion possible on your body and soul. it's crushing

cue lots of attempted comfort. soap and gaz would be the softest with you, always trying to tempt you into realizing how good it is to be with them. soap is rougher when he fucks you, but they're both equally soft outside of that. they bring you nesting materials, constantly make sure you're covered in their scents, and bicker over who gets to cuddle you on the couch

ghost isn't willing to coddle you. he's sweet (in his own right) but he's not nice. he doesn't try to make you feel better - you're meant to be with them, why should he apologize for making it happen? all they did was skip the courting process, this is always where you were going to end up. he refuses to apologize for that. but he also doesn't want you miserable. he holds you close at night, soaks with you for long hours in the tub, and is always making sure you clear your plate

price is... weird. i'm never sure if i should make him the meanest or a softer kidnapper. because i could absolutely see a version of price whipping your ass raw every time you scream at them and call them names, but i can also see a version of price who just levels you with a disapproving stare and locks you in a small dark space when you get like that

regardless, they all smother you. you help balance out their dynamics a bit more, but they're always fighting each other for your attention. especially with the bond making it so they always know what you're feeling. and your instincts scream to trust them (and you can feel their emotions too, know that they really meant for the best, as sick and twisted as it is).

[lordsukunas]

never make him love me

tldr: you’re determined to confess to teen!gojo, but your chances of success are literally 0.

cw: angst/no comfort... sorry? reader is a bit very delusional n kinda weird, gojo may be a bit ooc, no curse au, gender neutral (i think) but reader is wearing a skirt, and im p sure this is not very accurate to the actual japanese school system. not beta read btw

a/n: this has been in my drafts for too long... whoops! trying a different divider but i don’t rlly like it. also does reader count as a girl/boyfailure here or not? they kinda strange tbh :/ idk lol, hope yall enjoy getting rejected by gojo n can yall guess who hes already in love w

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

which, to be fair, a lot of people are. he’s a pretty face: soft, snow-white hair with bright cerulean eyes that draws anyone and everyone in. a big, gorgeous smile, and long, muscular limbs that you just know would feel so good wrapped around you.

plenty of people have confessed to him, and all of them have been rejected. that should be enough to put you off, to make you face the reality that gojo may not be madly in love with you, but it just makes you more determined. he’s just rejecting everyone else because he’s waiting for you!

that has to be it, right?

definitely, you think as you skip to gojo’s classroom. you can feel the weird stares from students (and even a teacher or two), but they don’t matter. you’re going to confess to gojo satoru, damn it, and nothing’s getting in the way.

it’s lunch period, thankfully, which means he’ll be with geto and ieiri. that’s good — his best friends will be there to watch him declare his reciprocated love for you.

you slide the door open, love letter and two packs of kasugai gummies in one hand. a few students in the room glance up at you, including gojo!

the two of you lock eyes — well, you think you do. it’s a bit difficult to tell, but his head is facing your direction, so he’s totally looking at you. he’s noticing you!!!

you bite your lip to stifle the giggle bubbling up in your chest and walk up to the perfect trio (hopefully, soon to be quadruple). “hi, gojo,” you say, a nervous yet giddy smile on your face.

“... hey?” he exchanges looks with geto before focusing back on you. “do i know you?”

okay, ouch. you literally sat behind him in chemistry, but, whatever. don’t focus on the little things!

“um, probably not, but!” you hold out the envelope with a heart sticker as the seal. “i have something to tell you.”

“uh... okay.” gojo scratches the back of his neck, then takes the letter. he slides his finger under the seal, tearing it open, and pulls the letter out. he unfolds it, and both geto and ieiri lean in to also read it.

a frown tugs at the corners of your lips. the words were meant for just gojo, not those two. although... does it really matter? you’re just proving that you’re a good fit for their best friend.

after a drawn out moment of silence, gojo chuckles, albeit awkwardly. “wow, uh... this is a lot.”

you nod. “yeah!” you also hand him the packs of gummies, which he takes a bit more eagerly than the letter and sets them on his desk. “so, um...”

your heart has been hammering in your chest this entire time, but now it feels like it’s trying to escape. sweat accumulates on your palms, and you resist the urge to wipe them on your skirt.

this is the big moment.

you hope and pray and plead to whatever being that’s out there for gojo to accept and reciprocate your feelings. with all the manifesting and ‘love spells’ you’ve done, it should work. gojo satoru is most definitely in love with–

“this is nice, but, uh, i’m not interested.”

...

what?

you blink down at him, and now you’re the one chuckling nervously. “i’m sorry?”

maybe you misheard. that had to be it, right? there’s no way he isn’t in love with you. you bought him gummies, you wrote him a letter, you spent countless hours researching and trying different manifestation methods, you prayed at the shrine, you learned his schedule so that you could pass by him on the way to class, you did everything for him.

he scratches the back of his neck again before refolding the letter and putting it back into the envelope. “i’m not really interested in a relationship right now. you’re probably really cool and stuff, so don’t take it personally.”

no, no, no, no. this isn't how this was supposed to go! he was supposed to say yes! what happened? what did you do wrong?

now you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of his friends. his best friends. how are you supposed to come back from this? thank god no one else in the room is paying attention right now.

heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads to your face. sweat is drenching your palms, blood is roaring in your ears, and you really want to melt into the ground never to be seen again. you’re pretty sure your heart just shattered into a trillion pieces and a shard pierced your lungs, because you cannot breathe.

you then feel a hand on your forearm, and you jolt. it’s ieiri. “hey, are you–”

“i’m fine!” you blurt, and a few heads turn in your direction. you take the envelope back from gojo, spin on your heel, and rush out of the classroom.

damn it.

you’re pushing past people to get to the restroom, and you slam the stall door shut before locking it.

you’re so stupid. how could the gojo satoru be in love with you?

the tears finally spill from your eyes, running down your cheeks, and you let your face fall into your hands as you sob.

idiot, idiot, idiot.

you should’ve known you wouldn’t be any different. he wasn’t waiting for you. he’ll never be waiting for you. you never had a chance, and in your defense, no one did.

gojo’s heart has already been claimed by someone else, and if you were a little smarter, you’d know exactly who it is.

[sohnric]

BELOVED — E. SOHN

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers. angst, fluff. the tiniest bit of swimmer! eric for some reason. wrote this in a moment of weakness handle with care!! :~)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: reader is said to be red in the face from the cold (alludes to specific skin color - im sorry i wrote this for me only and yall just get to read it), swearing, insecurity and jealousy, unspecified mental illness (?)

a/n: once again thank you to @csenke for beta reading and encouraging me to post this :p and also for existing. ily <3 btw swimmer eric is such a concept it gave us both whiplash maybe i need to revisit this in a full fic....

The coldness of the crisp evening makes you sniffle, your bones freezing and fingers going numb even in the comfort of your coat pockets. Your brain is full of thoughts fighting amongst each other, running around and hitting the corners of your head, slowly causing you an annoying migraine. You now regret not taking your headphones with you, because the music could help you drown out the noise of your inner voice, but the you from an hour ago that decided to go on a walk to clear your head had other plans for you, so you now have to suffer the stream of your thoughts instead. The stream is so loud you swear you can hear it resonating through the silent campus, but you know that’s a foolish thought, so you fight it away with a bitter chuckle.

Eyes zeroing on the orange fluorescent lights coming from inside of the building you’re standing in front of, you start feeling a little silly for coming here. It’s not like you think you’d be sent away, but there’s also that little bugging voice inside of your brain that keeps reminding you that you weren’t invited. Your feet have dragged you here without your consent or order. One moment, you were walking down the river, shuddering from the cold, and the other, you found yourself in front of the pool– as if the tugging of your heart was stronger than your own brain, stronger than your own thoughts.

Sometimes you feel bad for taking it all out on him. At least that’s what you suppose you’re doing– with your annoyed remarks whenever he checks in on you, with your sighs whenever he asks what’s wrong. It’s not like he’s incorrect with his suspicions– he always somehow knows you’re in a bad mood, no matter how hard you try to mask it– you just don’t often feel like discussing the matter with him. Or anyone, really. Sometimes, you feel bad for pushing him away or not texting him back. Sometimes you feel truly shitty for the fact that you can’t open up to him, no matter how hard you try. 

And sometimes, you just truly think that he wouldn’t care. It’s weird how your mind works– someone could spend so much time with you, making memories together and laughing at your jokes, yet, your mind could convince you that they don’t really like you at all in the first place. That this is some sort of a game they’re playing, trying to see how long you can stay convinced that they enjoy your presence in their life before you notice and they step away. You don’t even know where this conviction is coming from. If you knew, maybe you could fix it. If you could locate it, you’d try to delete the flawed code from your system. 

Sometimes, you think he doesn’t care about how you are, what you’re doing, what you think. It has nothing to do with the way he treats you; more so with the anxiety nibbling at the corners of your brain whenever he talks to anyone else– with the constant fear of being replaced, of having him find someone better, someone less difficult to be friends with. In its full essence, the image is terrifying. You think your world would crumble if you lost another person in your life.

More so, you think your world would crumble if you lost him. You recognize that there’s a constant desire in the depths of your heart to be someone’s favorite– his favorite– to be the person someone would choose in a room full of people. To be the one they walk up to first with a smile and their arms wide open. 

And it’s silly. You’re his best friend. He tells you so every day. It’s the way you’re introduced to everyone out of his circle that you meet on parties or at campus.

Admittedly, you like hearing him say it. Best friend– the title shows you’re the best at something: at being his companion, at making him laugh, at being there for him, whatever it is that you do to earn that sticker. The title shows that you’re somebody’s favorite– his favorite– and it makes you deeply satisfied with yourself. It makes you proud, even. 

Some days, you still have a hard time believing it, though. Some days, you still feel stranded. Lonely. Isolated. It’s weird. 

Somehow, your heart, your feet and the unconscious part of your brain took you right where you knew you’d find him. You didn’t choose to go here– if you realized you were nearing the building, you would’ve even tried to stop yourself– and as you contemplate turning on your heel and going back home, hell, you even take the first step away from the pools, the sound of the main door opening and his voice calling for you makes you halt in your movements, gluing you to the pavement. 

Sometimes, the heart knows what it needs even before you get a chance to register it.

“Y/N! How long have you been standing there?” he calls after you, making you bite down on your lower lip. There’s no escaping him now– you guess it’s for the better, though.

Turning towards him, a guilty look spreading over your features, you shrug. “Not long.”

“It’s freezing out here! Why didn’t you come inside?” he asks, a wrinkle forming in between his eyebrows as he walks closer to you, his friends from the swim team patting his back and saying their goodbyes to the two of you as they pass the commotion on their way out.

“I didn’t want to intrude your practice,” you peep, sniffling a little from the cold.

“Gosh, you always do this,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He almost looks mad at you, and by the way he raises his voice and throws his arms in the air in frustration, you think you’re correct with assuming he might be. “I texted you the whole day! Hell, I called, even though I know how much you hate phone calls. And I get that you probably didn’t feel like talking, but a simple ‘I'm okay, don’t worry’ text would’ve been nice!”

Dragging his hand through his hair in defeat, he shakes his head at you. “Besides, you can’t just keep shutting me off every time you are having a hard time, for god’s sake! Not only do I worry, but I hate seeing you suffer all alone.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you listen patiently to his lecture. You know he’s right– he almost always is, because the rational side of your brain ceases to exist every time your insecurities fail you– so there’s really no aim in trying to argue or fight with him. 

Eric sighs as he steps even closer to you, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder before he reaches for the hood of your jacket and puts it over your head. “You could’ve texted me you were here, I’d leave practice early for you,” he says, voice now softer as he stands in front of you, not really wanting to scream straight into your face. 

You shrug in response, not really knowing what to say. Telling him you contemplated leaving  just seconds before he found you here would make him even more mad with you, so you choose to gloss over that fact. Besides, it’s kind of comforting, the way his words work. The way his presence calms you, makes the screaming match of your thoughts drown out with his firm comments and scolding remarks. His words, although full of frustration, make your insides warm up and your muscles relax, like you’re coming undone.

His face shows concern. His actions speak even louder than his words when he tugs the sides of your hood closer together at your neck, the hole for your head previously exposing your bare skin and making you shiver. “Couldn’t you dress more warmly? Do you want to catch a cold?” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “You scutter here all unannounced, wearing close to nothing, and expect me to not be frustrated with you?”

You study his expression for a while. It’s not often you get to see Eric from so up close, but even in the darkness of the evening, you recognise the familiarity of his close-to-flawless features. Anchoring yourself into his gaze for a second, you move to study the sculpture of his cheekbones, the furrowed nature of his brows, the slope of his cupid’s bone. His hair falls into his eyes, making you instinctively drag your hand up and move his bangs out of the way, having the male wince at the contact of your fingers with his skin. “Hell, your hands are cold! You didn’t even take gloves? It’s minus five degrees outside!” he grunts.

It makes you chuckle. You did something nice for him, yet, there he is– complaining about the fact that you have yet again failed to take care of yourself. “I’m not even surprised, y’know, since you didn’t put on a scarf either, but sometimes I wish this little brain of yours,” he point his finger to the side of your temple, “had better self-preservation instincts,” he finishes as he fishes for something in his pocket.

Taking out his own gloves and holding them up to you so you can slip your numb fingers into the fabric, he continues on with his little tangent. “Next time,” he adds when you’re successfully wearing the warm garment, “text me as soon as you get here, okay? And look outside before you go out, so you know what to wear. Maybe open that little weather app on your home screen, even. Might be helpful,” he jokes, although a little dryly, as he brings out a scarf from his duffel bag, tying it around your neck and almost suffocating you with how tight he wraps it, making sure you’re defrosting under his tender care.

When he’s done dressing you up like a doll, you’re left staring at him speechless. Eric reciprocates the gaze, something gentle, yet worried mirroring behind his dark orbs. There’s comfort lingering in the air now that you’re not so cold, and with the added essence of his existence, the act of living doesn’t seem like such a hassle anymore. You feel lighter, in a way.

“Sorry,” he hums after a heartbeat of silence, “how are you feeling?” he asks, an apologetic look sent your way when he realizes he slipped into a heated lecture again, not knowing that this is exactly what you wanted and unknowingly came here for. (For his furrowed eyebrows and the crease in between them, his worried orbs and words tinted with frustration, showing you that he cares and wants you to be safe. For his little tangent, yet also gentle touches as he takes care of you and makes sure you’re staying warm. For the familiar look in his eyes, whispering to you that you’re the only thing in the whole world that matters to him right in this moment and always, forever.) 

You smile at the clueless boy. It seems to make something in him settle into a more comfortable place. “All better now,” you reply.

“Good,” he says. “God, you look awful,” he jokes– laughing airly to reference the state of your frozen face– cheeks and the tip of your nose red, eyes watery from the wind, hair messily sticking out from the bottom of your hood– as one of his hands comes up to cradle your face and squish your cheeks together, turning your chapped lips into a big pout. The contact of his skin on yours makes your stomach feel light with the contrast of his warm hand on your cold face, all your senses coming alive when his voice drops a few octaves lower, seriousness tinting his tone. “Promise me to take better care of yourself from now on?”

Nodding, not really having it in you to even make a noise, you watch as the male studies your face for a while. In any other circumstance, his gaze would make you shy away, but not now. Not when everything seems suddenly so simple, not when all your worries seem to slip through your fingers. When his eyes point towards your lips– your puckered, dry mouth– a sense of expecting takes over you, a strange kind of excitement buzzing in the tips of your fingertips. When you breathe in through your half-clogged nose, the mixed scent of his fabric softener coming off the scarf tied tightly around your neck and the smell of the shower gel he uses to wash the chlorine off after his swimming practice hits your nose, making you a little light-headed. No words are spoken as the male suddenly leans in and presses a quick peck to your lips.

His warm lips meet with yours in what seems to be a second-long contact, but it’s enough to have the ghost of his touch lingering, enough to make your stomach churn in joy.

The action was so painfully casual– as if it was second nature to him. As if there was no reason for him to contemplate the decision– as if this was what he wanted to do all the time, and so he did it. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

Selfishly, though, you must admit you need both– you need the words just as much as the actions. Good thing Eric knows you so well– sometimes you think it’s even more than you know yourself.

“Now come on, let’s get you home,” he hums, hugging you to him with his right arm as you two walk down the sidewalk, “wouldn’t want my beloved girl to freeze to death right here.”

His beloved.

The words resonate in your brain. This time, it’s a good type of screaming match happening with your thoughts– all worries battled, using his sentence to cut out the bad parts like a sharpened knife. This time, your mind is full of fireworks and excited buzzing, sending the happy signals all across your body, helping you fight winter with the power of gentle loving. 

And sure, you know that those feelings might come again. There’s no way of telling when the skeletons will appear, hunting down your happy thoughts. But you know that even if they do, you will always somehow find your way back to Eric, and he’ll make sure to remind you of what you need to hear, and you’ll be okay again.

You guess The Beatles were right after all. Maybe all you need is a little love sometimes.

[nburkhardt]

Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend.

Hello! This is my abo teenage parents steddie fic I talked about a few times. Wrote it a while ago for myself, never felt quite confident for sharing. But after sharing the few snippets, here’s the start! There’s real no end to it, it’s mostly slice of life with nearly no real plot. (Title is from Spaceship by Andy Grammer)

Some info you should know: it takes place in season 2. Originally wasn’t going to include the upside down but switched it to have it. ANYWAY, enjoy the start! It’s mostly Steve angst and only a hint of Eddie lol.

So, here’s the thing… Steve never keep his secondary gender a secret. In fact, he was quite proud of it. Mostly because it pisses his dad off to no end, and well, pissing off his dad is one of his and his mom’s favorite past time.

With that said he was definitely proud to take after his mom and for being a male omega. He knows it probably pisses more people off than they let on and really, that makes his fucking day.

Sometime around the time he entered high school, his status went sky high. He didn’t mind, though finding true friends was rough. Especially when Tommy and Carol glued themselves to him within a few hours of knowing him. Since he didn’t keep his omega status a secret, they thought he was weaker and needed to be protected. With Tommy being an alpha and Carol a beta, they decided to be best friends. It pissed him off, but at the time he didn’t have many friends. But of course, he’s not weak. He knows how to protect himself and even others.

His life gets flipped upside down, shortly after Nancy Wheeler calls him ‘bullshit’ in a bathroom at a dumb Halloween party.

It’s been months since Will Byers disappeared, thought dead and found alive. Also months since Nancy’s best friend fucking died while sitting at his pool. All while he and Nancy were in bed, they only found out in the next morning at school.

Nancy’s words send him spiraling down immediately, because unlike her, he does or did love her. So in a blind panic, he leaves the room and then the house and straight into the forest behind. Freaking out and sobbing as he went.

He didn’t know how long he was there, all he remembers of the night is panicking and then someone that smells of smoke, rain and freshly cut grass, helps him to his car and on his way. With only a matchbook with a number on it sitting on his passenger seat as who helped him.

In the morning, he gets ready for school, kisses his mom on the cheek and goes on his way. Only pocketing the matchbook as he parks in the school parking lot.

The day is simple only because he avoids Nancy as much as he can and then nearly get his ass handed to him by the new big alpha in town, Billy Hargrove.

“Should plant your feet, pretty boy”

He rolls his eyes, “shove the fuck off, Hargrove”

Billy is about to do another shove, he can’t figure out why to be honest. His scent is currently covered by scent blockers, the one thing his mom told him to take. When he notices Nancy waving him down, so he goes willingly to that danger instead.

It’s nothing but anger from her, it’s rolling off her in her scent even with a blocker, “Why didn’t you pick me up?”

He scruffs, “because I’m apparently bullshit?”

She at least flinches at that. But doesn’t apologize, at least, not the way he’d like. She does try to excuse it all by saying she was drunk and if there is one thing he took to heart from his asshole dad; drunk words are sober thoughts.

The final kicker of the whole conversation: her not saying “I love you” after he pleads her to.

He decides after that, Nancy Wheeler is someone he refuses to be with.

—

If you made it this far great!! Because after this the real fun begins 🥳 meaning Eddie is actually there and you get to meet my favorite person, Janet Harrington… Steve’s mom! This was just getting things mostly set up. I hope it doesn’t seem too weird with jumping around or weird phrasing lol.

(Btw, I don’t necessarily keep to everything everyone does in abo fics. I go with whatever I like and easy to work with. So there’s scents, mates, pack easy things. Nothing too explicit either, I’m definitely not confident enough to post smut hahaha.) OH AND IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS OR WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS AU MY MESSAGES AND ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!!!!

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay

Also those who liked my snippet: @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings

[asiandra-dash]

Hi i saw u wanna rewrite akikasa hcs PLEASE WRITE ME SOME I BEG /nf /lh

HJKJSKDKHS AKIKASA anyways I was referring to a short story I wrote a while ago but THIS!!! IS (I think) MY FIRST AKIKASA RELATED ASK!!!! I MUST WRITE!!!!!! All I have to do is figure out which thoughts are based on canon and which ones are AUs-

I took 18 days to finally post this because I kept getting ideas and had to force myself to stop because this is way too long 888 words man this ain't fanfiction also if this is illegible I'm sorry none of my headcanon posts will ever be organized no beta or read more we die like my grades after my orchestra field trip

Starting with basic shit Akito is SO so in denial about his feelings and when he's finally fed up with it he chucks it down to infatuation (It is not)

And Tsukasa is an oblivious idiot to everything even though he has a stupid crush on this ginger he just refuses to say anything because he still thinks Akito despises his guts

My guy every little bit of physical contact you make with carrot head makes him look like color hex #ff0000 RGB 255, 0, 0 how do you not notice this

Tsukasa fell first, and they both fell harder >:)

You know Tsukasa'a 1* card where Akito saved the poor man from a spider or something that's when it happened Tsukasa didn't know at first cause like haha who the hell falls in love with someone over something so small I barely even know the guy

If Akito confessed first, after a long moment of awkward silence and Akito wishing the floor would eat him alive, Tsukasa is suddenly hugging him and crying (That's a yes btw)

If Tsukasa confessed first, it would take a bit (probably a few days or weeks) but eventually Akito with the support of everyone finally accepts his feelings for Tsukasa (He didn't tell anyone about the confession btw it was probably Akiyama or one of Tsukasa's friends that told everyone also the threat of Rui was probably another reason he couldn't deny lmao)

Every date, and I mean EVERY SINGLE DATE, Tsukasa will always bring or buy some cheesecakes or pancakes for Akito

And if he doesn't the next time he brings lunch for Akito he'll bring him more cheesecake than he usually does to make up for it

When Tsukasa found out Akito's favorite flowers were sunflowers, he sometimes brings one for him too :D

Tsukasa probably got a pair of sunflower clip-on earrings too (Or whatever they're called)

Tsukasa loves to tackle hug Akito and it never fails to make the ginger laugh <3

Tsukasa borrows Akito's jackets a lot (At least twice a week).

Akito complains about it but let's be honest he loves it when he gets it back and all he smells on it is Tsukasa's scent

Tsukasa loves giving gifts to Akito even if there's no special occasion, usually some type of jewelry like earrings and the next day Akito's most likely wearing it

Obviously, they invite each other to their shows, and sometimes their other bandmates too

During WxS shows Akito's supportive and is internally loud but during VBS concerts Tsukasa is HOLLERING Akito's name and singing along if he knows the lyrics it's embarrassing but if you look closely enough you can tell it hypes up Akito a little more and he tries even harder (An has taken note of this and teases him nonstop about it)

Neither of them are a huge fan of PDA but if you stare long enough you'll probably miss a sneaky little kiss when you blink

That or if Tsukasa's in a really good mood he'll practically cling to Akito (Which is like 50% of the time tbh)

That one post I made on my side blog is real and so is the first tag

Yes Ena and Saki are supportive but holy shit Akito wants to fucking strangle Ena whenever she brings it up (This applies to An too)

Tsukasa helps Akito be more open with his feelings and Akito helps Tsukasa deal with negativity better

Around people, Akito still treats Tsukasa how he would (if Tsukasa isn't being clingy) but once they're alone Akito acts like he's touch starved and refuses to leave Tsukasa alone

Akito sometimes helps Tsukasa with practicing for his shows. He's obviously not as good but he's trying and Tsukasa appreciates his efforts

Tell Akito to say wonderhoy and he'll look at you like you're fucking insane but have Tsukasa tell him and he'll say it as unenthusiastically as he can manage

And then Tsukasa will look at him all :((( and Akito does it with more energy and "jesus fucking christ the things I do to make Tsukasa happy" (It's just a wonderhoy idk why you're so pissed /hj)

I do not understand Japanese and I am not caught up on that one event story with furry Akito so correct me if I'm wrong (about the italicized part) but before Akito gets over his fear of dogs Tsukasa always made sure they would steer clear of them and if one suddenly appeared this blond pink theatre kid is going to protect his pathetic fucking boyfriend with his life

Rui: Is that a hickey? | Tsukasa: No! It’s just a mosquito bite. | Akito, walking into the room: Hey, guys. | Rui: Hi, mosquito.

Whenever one of them stays up really late when staying over. the other tries to convince them to go to bed and cuddle/snuggle with them and it works.

Tsukasa practically begs meanwhile, if possible, Akito hugs Tsukasa from behind and basically just collapses onto him half asleep mumbling into his ear (Can you tell I'm tired it's 1 AM and I got 3 hours of sleep yesterday I'm running off of a power nap rn)

Obviously, Tsukasa can't do anything with Akito like that so he basically carries Akito to the room of whoever they're staying at

Akikasa supremacy WHO'S WITH ME AKIKASA!!!!!!! (I'm dying on a hill please)

Divider / Reply Icon made by me! ( 1 | 2 )

[mythica0]

A whosamawhatsit?

🎂: Fop; a new wish

🧁.Dev

🍫: Peri

Summary: Dev gets his first ever lee mood. He is confused.

A/N: yes I’m writing lee dev ler peri again, what it to ya! This fic takes place after the other two I wrote, I kinda got a timeline going. Also I hope someone gets my title 🙏 (btw it’s pronounced who’s-a-muh-what’s-it) I’m not super happy with the ending but eh.

(P.S I got so flustered writing this. Also, Beta read by @randommusicalfluff!)

A whosamawhatsit?

Dev felt strange.

As soon as he woke up, he felt… odd. In a way he couldn’t quite place.

His whole body was buzzing, he felt like he was a soda can that had been shaken. He felt light and airy, and almost bouncy?

He was also in a better mood than usual? He didn’t know why he was just… less meh. He actually woke up and smiled.

He stretched and got dressed, having an Au-pair bring him a donut for breakfast.

“Hey kid, G’morning!”

Dev looked up at Peri and smiled, giving him a small wave. “Good morning, Peri!”

Peri sensed something. He didn’t say anything. He wanted to be sure.

“Well someone’s chipper this morning!”

Dev hesitated and smiled. “Yeah.. guess I am!” Dev was confused. He felt so… odd. He felt like he wanted.. something? What was it…

The rest of the school day went as normal, but the whole time Dev was contemplating and confused. He noticed more as the day went on.. he found things funnier than he usually did, felt a need for physical contact. And that bubbly, fizzing feeling in his stomach grew, along with to a sense of longing. If only he could figure out what he wanted!

Peri observed throughout the day. His sense had never been wrong before, and it was blaring! This kid had a lee mood, he just knew it. Time to have a little chat!

After Dev and Peri had arrived back at the mansion, and entered Dev’s room, Peri started the conversation.

“So, Dev, how are you feeling?”

Dev looked up. “Hmm? Oh, I feel great, thanks for asking!” He answered genuinely, smiling.

“That’s good! But I meant.. feel any different than usual?”

Dev didn’t know how Peri knew, but he replied honestly anyway.

“Actually, yeah.”

“Hmmm, how so?”

“Well.. I’ve felt like.. buzzy? All day. Also pretty light. I’ve found things funnier than usual… and a sense of … longing? But I can’t figure out what it is that I’m longing for.”

“Ahh, my sensors never fail!” Dev looked confused. “Worry not, kid, for I know exactly what you want.”

“How do you know what I want when I don’t?”

“Well, you’re in a lee mood! And I always know when someone’s in a lee mood.”

“A.. whosamawhatsit?”

“Oh yeah you don’t know what that is, do you?”

Dev shook his head, intrigued and listening but also very confused.

“Well, A lee mood is when someone wants to be tickled!” Immediately Dev’s face burned as he realized that.. yup, that was what that sense of longing was about. “It often comes with buzzing or tingling sensations and a chipper attitude, which you have been displaying!”

Dev blinked, and let out a flustered, “….huh.”

“Sooooo?” Peri drawled, teasingly.

“So- what?” Deb responded, an eyebrow raised.

“Do you want me to tickle you?” Peri said, so casually, as if discussing the weather.

Dev blushed even more. “Uh- I- ummm-“ he didn’t quite know how to respond. He did. But he didn’t wanna say that! That’s embarrassing!

“I’m not hearing a no~”

Dev continued to stammer embarrassedly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make ya say it!” Peri teased, pulling dev into a hold. Dev covered his red face with both hands.

Peri smiled and started scribbling against the kids ribs, causing his joyous giggles to pour from him.

“Are you gonna uncover your face so I can see your precious smile~”

“Nohohohohoho!”

“Oh, really~ are you suuureee~”

Dev mustered some false confidence. “Ye-yeahahahah!”

“Alright then, guess I’ll just have to make you.”

Right after he finished his sentence, Peri shot up to Dev’s underarms, digging with just enough pressure to really tickle.

Out of instinct, Dev’s arms shot down.

“Aww, too bad~ where’d all that stubbornness go?”

“I Cahahahahant hehehehehehelp ihihit!! Ehehahhaha!”

“Well, if you’re gonna try to be all stubborn then you should probably work on that.”

“Eehahahhaahahaaa! Gehehehet ouhohohout ohohohof thehehehre!!!”

Peri pouted sarcastically. “I can’t~ my hands are stuck~”

“Nohohoho thehehey ahahahrehehent yohohou liahahahar!”

Peri made a fake attempt to remove his hands, before once again teasing, “see? They won’t budge! Guess I’ll just have to stay here and tickle and tickle and tickle for the rest of time!”

“Nohohohoho!! Gohoho sohohomwhehehere ehehehelse!!

“Oh, so you don’t want me to stop? You just want me to go somewhere else? And why is that, this a bad spot~?” The lilt in his voice made Dev’s face go even darker than it was.

“Nohohohoho! Eheheheee!” Dev was kicking lightly, unable to stop the happy laughter and energy that flowed through his whole body.

“No? That’s not why? Hmm… is it because you want me to tickle your little tummy? Is that why? Does this cute little tummy want some of the tickly tickly tickles?”

Dev blushed even harder(somehow) and continued to kick lightly and giggle. But he didn’t deny it.

“Oh~~? No denial?? That must be it, then huh~”

“Eeeehehehehahaha! Dohohohohooonttt!” Dev whined through his bubbly giggles.

“Oh~ so you don’t want me to tickle your little belly? You don’t want me to make you feel all giggly and happy from the tummy tickles?”

Dev just whined again, laughter never stopping, smile never leaving his face.

“No? You do? Well, then why’d you say ‘don’t’ hmm? If you do want me to tickle your tummy, then don’t what?”

“Nohohoho tehehehaseihihing!!”

“Aww, I’m afraid I can’t do that~ teasing is part of the fun!”

Dev just giggled some more.

“Well~ if you want me to tickle tickle tickle that little tummy of yours, you’re gonna have to move your arms. I’m still stuck!”

“Ihihihi cahahahahant!!

“Well then, why don’t I help you out~” Peri kept tickling with his right hand, but took his left and pulled Dev’s arms up over his head, with no protest. He held them there for just a moment, before digging into Dev’s oh so ticklish tummy.

Dev’s giggles grew bigger, renewed by the change in sensation.

Dev couldn’t and wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was having the time of his life. The ticklish jolts sending through his stomach to the rest of his body, making him laugh and smile and kick joyfully. Forcing him to be happy, forcing him to giggle and laugh brightly. At some point he had tears of joy forming in his eyes.

He was so happy right now, and that made him embarrassed.

After a good few minutes off the tickles, Peri stopped, sensing that the kid had had enough.

He poofed up some water for him, encouraging him to drink slowly.

Dev giggled for a while, breathing heavily, trying to brush away left over tickles. He drank the water, let his face cool down, and allowed his giggles to slow and then stop.

“Welp, now you know what a lee mood is, right?”

“Yeah, yeah- I guess I do!” …. There was a pause, then a breath. “Do you get lee moods?”

Uh oh.

———THE END————————————————

[divinegrey]

ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ / ꜰᴀᴅᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

well. i got thrown into a spiral because i saw a fanart on twitter and wrote a piece based off of it. please check out the art here and send the artist some kudos, it's a brilliant piece.

btw i did not beta read this so if you see mistakes no you didn't ok bye!

prompt: fade has nightmares she cannot wake up from. you're there to break her out of it.

words: 1800

warnings: mentions of nightmares, angst and comfort, dad cypher

It’s not uncommon for you to be up at the odd hours of the night. You’re one of the few people at the Protocol who simply functions that way— you’re a necessity for the night shift, always available for the emergency missions that call for the total cover of darkness. You’re much like your mentor, Cypher, in that sense. It’s always you and him in the camera room, him tinkering his trips and you working on your traps. 

So, it’s also not uncommon for you and him to walk back to your rooms together once your time in the wee hours of the night have concluded. Tonight is a night like any other, moving quietly down the hallway. The dorms are quiet, with most of the agents asleep or away on longer missions. It’s peaceful. 

That is, until you hear the sound of what appears to be muffled… whimpering? No, that can’t be right. Though Cypher keeps walking, you pause, staring at the door— you’re passing the Initiator hallway to get to the Sentinel dorms, and the owner of the room behind the door is none other than Fade.

Cypher too stops in his steps. You look at him as you always do, silently seeking an explanation. He sighs, shaking his head. The orbital sockets of his mask widen, before he walks over to the door, pressing his palm to the reader. You’re about to mention that his hand shouldn’t work, before the front face of the palm reader flips up to reveal a keypad— you’re grateful for your vision in the dimly lit hallway. 209375, a number that you can’t think of to mean anything— perhaps one randomly generated, knowing Cypher’s preference to attach no emotion to passwords. 

The door opens, and Cypher steps inside the room. You quickly follow, waiting in the doorframe to see Cypher sit down on the bed. Beneath a single sheet with shadows dancing on the walls, Fade squirms, deep in the throes of what is very clearly a nightmare. 

Cypher murmurs, head bowed, “She hardly ever sleeps well. Always troubled, this one. I can tell.” 

You frown, watching Fade grip Cypher’s hand once he extends it, even as deep in sleep as she is. He strokes her knuckles, bare-handed, an honor for you and for Fade, it seems. Gloves are his thing. 

“There is nothing we can do but hope she wakes up,” says Cypher, laying Fade’s hand in his lap. He places it against his forehead, whispering something in Arabic to her. He steps away, tucking the blanket over Fade. Cypher walks past you, and you shut the door. Cypher takes a moment, then sighs. “She will wake up. Her mental fortitude outmatches both you and I.” 

Though you wish to ask more, ask how to help, you find yourself speechless for the time being. Cypher begins moving, so you do the same. 

But you look over your shoulder one last time, to the shadows that creep beneath Fade’s door. 

— — —

The nights are even quieter without Cypher around. His presence was required for an overnight mission somewhere in the streets of Portugal, following up on a lead with Sova and Harbor. It leaves you making the rounds by yourself, stifling a yawn into your hand. 

Once again, as you pass through the Initiator hallway, there’s that quiet groaning and whimpering from beyond Fade’s door. Fade is in there, all alone and by herself. You understand Fade’s tendencies as a loner, but still— no one should have to be alone when they’re suffering a nightmare. You’ve gone to Cypher more times than you can count, of course he would look after Fade too. 

Without hesitation, you go to the palm reader. Sure, your hand might not do the same thing, but the mechanism for the reading was awfully familiar. Too much time watching Cypher play with his toys has lead you to a keen intuition; just the right amount of pressure and—

Pop!

You punch in the code— 209375— and slip inside, the locking mechanism sliding back into place. Fade is curled up on the bed, her back to you and her hands clenched around her head. Shadows mixed with red tendrils creep on the walls, sliding toward your feet with a coldness that sends goosebumps over your arms. You swear you hear whispers; the Nightmare communing with you, maybe, in a language you do not understand. 

It does little to deter you. Cypher had warned you, days after you witnessed him comfort Fade in her sleep. She cannot wake up the same way you and I do.

Fuck that. 

Fuck that. 

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You’re going to try, at least, because no one should suffer alone. 

You kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath your weight. Your hand on Fade’s shoulder does little, save for the shadows that snake up your arm, circling your wrist to keep it pinned to her. 

“Fade, I’m right here,” you say, moving closer. She shakes, crying out— even in her sleep, her hand moves to cover her mouth, drowning out the sounds of pain as if the demon in her mind is hurting her physically. Her body twitches, the same movements after being struck by bullets. You swallow the dryness in your throat, pushing on. “Fade— Hazal, if you can hear me, I’m right here. I’m not leaving until you’re awake.” 

A whimper. The movements subside, only for a moment, before the shadows in the room grow, angered. The coldness around your wrist burns. 

“Hazal, you’re not alone,” you say, your voice teetering on a whisper that is still louder than the ones echoing in your mind. “The Nightmare can’t hurt you. Not here. Not with me.” 

Fade’s eyes shoot open, her body twisting upward. Shadows pour from her eyes, leaking down like blood that leaves nary a trace on her pale skin, the irises of both her eyes a shade of red that glows crimson in the dark. She scrambles to get a hold of you and you do the same, wrapping your arms around her as fast as you can, anchoring her back to reality. 

She’s limp, her body aching and tired from the nightmares that still have her in their grips. You cup the back of her head, stroking the sweat-damp hair. 

When you first met her, you were beyond terrified of her shadows, of the Nightmares she brought to life from her fingers. 

Now?

They hardly scare you at all. They’re fucking terrifying, but Fade’s safety is overwhelming— you tighten your grip on her, forcing her breathing to center from the panicked hyperventilation into a slow, steady rhythm. Her hands, weak on your waist, begin to twitch. 

“You’re almost done fighting, Hazal, and I’ll be here to catch you when you wake up. Just wake up, please,” you whisper, coldness sizzling down your back from the shadows that trickle down her cheeks and chin, the physical manifestation of the demons that haunt the corners of her room and her mind, ensnaring her sleep in their clawed hands. You exhale, warm breath on her ear, another plead, “Wake up, Hazal.” 

Hazal inhales a breath, and the darkness of the room fades, bearing way to light that had once been shrouded. A lamp illuminates the room, allowing you to see the deep gouges in the metal, made by something so very inhuman— near the bed on the wall, some on the floor, a gash on the ceiling. 

Her voice speaks, raspy and deep. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

And yet, Hazal grips your waist as if she’s terrified you’ll run away. 

“I promised I’d be here when you woke up,” you say, pulling your head back. Fade levels her eyes with you— normal, ragged and worn with sleep, but normal. She sighs, resting her forehead against yours. The closeness allows you to hear the pounding of her heart. Frantic, but alive and present. 

“You are an idiot,” says Hazal, and you snort. “And yet, you woke me up. I heard you, from beyond the shadows, the same way I hear Cypher from time to time, but you… you pulled me out.” 

“Sometimes being an insomniac has some benefits,” you whisper, laughing softly. 

Hazal nods. “Don’t I know it.” She swallows, straightening up. Her hands are shaking as she pulls them away. She’s hesitant to meet your eyes. “You can leave now, if you wish.” 

“Nah, I think I’m gonna crash here for the night,” you reply. There’s a smile on your face when Hazal looks up, the tiniest shard of hope. You bump your shoulder gently to hers. “If that’s alright with you, Bountyhunter.” 

“Give me five minutes to shower and change the sheets,” Hazal says, standing up from the bed. But, as she does, she stumbles. You grab her by her hips, steadying her. A grateful nod from her, and she goes on. As she showers in the conjoining bathroom, you change the sheets, quickly and easily, leaving no room for error. 

Hazal returns, freshly washed, to you in pajamas that are distinctly not your own, but she doesn’t put up a fight, nor does she comment on it beside the slight tug on the black boxers, a subtle smile on her face. You crawl into bed with her, content with the warm light of the lamp keeping the room shielded from the night. 

She appears hesitant, eyes flickering back and forth from the ceiling and you. 

“Can I—?” 

“Of course,” you say, opening your arms. “I was hoping you’d ask.” 

Without further question, Hazal tucks herself into your arms— it’s a new side of her that you’ve seen, a secret known only by you, her, and the moon shining through the window. She lets out a long exhale into your chest, finally, finally relaxing all of her muscles that had been tense only moments before, sinking into your embrace. 

“Nightmares ain’t got shit against me,” you say, getting a muffled snort from her. “I’ll be here. Any night you need me.” 

Hazal breaks your brain in the form of a kiss pressed against your collarbone. “And for that, I am grateful. Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Cypher’s going to be pissed that I broke the locks to get in.” 

— — —

The door to the room creaks open; you’re awake, you have been all night making sure Hazal has slept, and slept she has, soundly and without a single twitch in your arms. You turn your head to the entrance. 

Cypher stands there with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looks over you, then Fade, and simply shakes his head with amusement shining in the orbitals of his mask. He raises his cup to you. “Proud of you, habibi. Do keep her safe.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” you reply, running your hands through her hair. Cypher closes the door, cloaking the room in silence. You turn your eyes to the sun just beginning to rise through the window, and smile. 

You can rest now; you think you deserve it, after all, and rest you do, comfortable with the warmth of Hazal molded to your body, sleeping without a single shadow of darkness. 

~~~~~ A/N: thanks for reading!!! make sure to go appreciate the artwork linked at the top, and see you next time!

[yuu-kumeii]

Heeello, hru?

i want a tsukishima kei × fem!reader, NO TIME SKIP, i want his reaction on the reader hugging him suddenly without saying anything and the reader doesn't pull away from the hug (aka gives him a long hug)

(Reader is clingy and doesn’t want to vent, but at the end she let it all out)

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, crying

Omg hi anon❗❗❗ I'm doing fine when I got this, but now I'm like a deflated grammar balloon 😭😭😭

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH YOUR REQUEST I SWEAR I WAS THINKING ABT IT THE WHOLE TIME AFTER I GOT IT, I just didn't get the motivation at that time so I waited for inspiration to strike. But then inspiration hit me too hard and this ended up going waaaay off track ⚰️ PLUS I wrote the middle part during a campus tour and boy am I glad to have friends who are willing to be my beta readers bc past Yuu was NOT having a good time there 🥹. So sorry again in advance if this isn't exactly what you were expecting 🙏

Btw, your all caps red NO TIMESKIP is kinda funny to me bc it's like telling me to REMEMBER THAT THIS IS A PRE TIMESKIP THING NOT POST since I'm someone who mainly writes for post timeskip 💀 ntm how you probably had your own timeskip waiting for this thing 🧍‍♀️but anyways I hope you still enjoy this monster of a drabble fic hybrid 🫶

Also heads up, it's an established relationship, yeah sorry I didn't know if you would be ok with that but uh yeah sorry 😭

Word count : 3.5k (How did I get here)

There wasn't any indication as to why you started to feel the way you do, maybe you were tired. It could be from stress, school work has been piling up so it wasn't a stretch to say that you might've been feeling a little burnt out. But deep down, you know exactly why. You're just too embarrassed to say it out loud, because what kind of person would you be to think that your friends were that shallow? A bad manager and an even more awful friend, that's what.

Everyone has been asking about you, concerned for your lack of response as of late. You barely look up from your notebook, something about a 'full proof strategy for their next game'. One so full proof it apparently doesn't need any input from the team or Kiyoko...or the coach... It's obvious you're trying to avoid them without being absent. Which makes it even more strange, usually you'd want to get away from the people you're avoiding. So why aren't you?

"Oh no, [Y/N] lookout!" A voice suddenly calls out, snapping you out of your thoughts just as you see a ball coming straight for you.

Before you could react, someone beat it to you, "I got it!" A hand reaches out and blocks the ball, you don't register who it is until—

"Nice save, Yacchan!"

Of course.

Yachi was the one who saved your face from getting pummeled while you sat there with your head in the clouds. All the more reason the team should just— just—

Just kick you off the team.

Ah.

There it is.

That's what's been on your mind. Why it was so hard for you to actually avoid them, you were scared to be pushed aside while trying to encourage them to do so. Thinking you were being good at your job, only to see someone new do it better.

You feel like you've been lacking as a manager, despite being in the club for longer. It felt like the newcomer, Yachi, was doing a lot better in the short time she's here. You know it was unwarranted, she's been nothing but helpful. Picking up all the little things you and Kiyoko taught her. The team also welcomed her with open arms, as did you.

It was a gradual realization on your end, with 3 managers on standby, it's easy to lose track of who does what job. But more and more it felt like you've been doing the least out of the 3 of you. It really affected you, even without you knowing.

You start to forget routines, things like after school clean up duty, homework, even going as far as to forget planned hangouts. It felt like all you wanted to do was finish the day as quickly as possible, you don't even get up from your seat much anymore. Your indifference in class is mostly likely why no one tried approaching you for stuff, which makes sense, you probably look unapproachable anyway.

Well, almost unapproachable. If it weren't for Tsukishima, who chose to come up to you on days you fully ignore the team.

"What's up with you?" His words were short and lacked any poise, fitting for the only first year keen on riling up opponents and allies alike.

"...Nothing is, I'm fine" Much like Tsuki, your words were curt. Hoping that the less you answer, the more he's inclined to leave you alone.

Giving you an unconvinced look paired with an equally unconvinced once over, he shrugs and turns to leave you be.

"Suit yourself"

That hurts more than anything your own mind can throw at you, because all it does is convince you further that they're better off without you. All you've been doing is feeling bad about yourself, starting to forget everything important in favor of ignoring the problem.

But strangely enough, even when you forget, nothing seems to have any big consequences. When you realize you forgot about cleanup duty, your class partner just shrugs, saying your friend stayed behind and helped them instead. You think that it could've been Yamaguchi, he sometimes helps with cleaning duty when someone's partner goes home early.

It makes you feel worse about your moping, inconveniencing not one but two people. All because you can't convince yourself that just because Yachi is doing a lot better than you, it doesn't mean you're useless.

Right?

Not to mention the heartwarming messages from your friends when you don't show up to a hangout, they seem so understanding in spite of how you don't even tell them anything. The messages telling you to "Take care of yourself" and "Work things out at your own pace" could honestly make you cry.

Even the team tries their best to cheer you up, or at least to get your attention. You can't lie and say you don't see Hinata trying to get the other first years to pull some cool volleyball stunt he saw once, hoping that you'll congratulate them. It's hard to ignore it, especially when you can just feel his occasional stare, trying to get a reaction from you. But, as much as you want to cheer them on, you just can't do that. And yet, they're still so understanding. Trying to raise your spirit, Yachi even tried to start a conversation with you by asking for help on different managerial duties. But to no avail, all you do is point her in the right direction before going back to your place in the stands. Her efforts weren't in vain, but not enough to really get to you.

But it doesn't add up, how would they know you're going through a tough time? Are you really that obvious? You probably are. Either way, it's sweet of them to still think about you even when you're basically ditching them.

What does make sense to you is the homework, which you still end up submitting on time. All thanks to, you guessed it, Tsukishima. He just started reminding you about homework due in 2 days, complete with the pages and formulas needed. A smart comment about your recent forgetfulness is always attached to the message, something to remind you that it's from Tsuki of all people.

Someone you got to know through Yamaguchi, a mutual friend of yours, and if that's not enough, then being on the same team definitely is. As a manager on said team, you were always there for whatever sarcastic quip he had at the ready. Complete with every short joke ever made and that snide smile of his almost everyday. Needless to say, it didn't take long for a friendship to bloom. No longer hanging out only when Yams was around, you both built a routine for when you have each other. Yet you were always one to break routine for something new, a habit the tall beanpole never fails to challenge.

"Why do I have to come with you? You can just go alone" He says, not too keen on the idea of skipping your usual bakery visit for a cafe.

"Because I don't want to go alone and you're the only free one" You were always so sure he'd come with you anyway, to the point where you don't even try to convince him anymore.

He did end up going with you in the end, even if he did have his complaints here and there. But overall, it was one of the few times you can visibly see him having a good time. You chose a cafe themed around the stars and space in general, which you knew Tsuki liked quite a bit. Sure it would've been better to go to a dinosaur themed cafe, but the ones you know about are all the way in Tokyo and Fukui. Nevertheless, that space cafe visit was definitely a core memory in both your and Tsukishima's friendship, no matter how much that salt shaker wanted to deny it.

Though you did promise that one day, both of you would go together.

As friends, cause that's what you are, right?

Wait, actually do you even remember what happened after the space cafe? Wasn't it really important?

It feels like you know exactly what it is, it's a *fact* that you remember what it is. But much like everything else around you, it as well, whether you mean to or not, is pushed to the back of your head. Your thoughts start to discourage your resolve in this self-driven solitude of yours, built upon claims with no support. But why would the evidence matter if the claim itself is enough to make you believe?

It really felt like you were going to keep up this ruse forever, nothing really served as a consequence to you. The only thing keeping you in this state were the small glimpses of the team above your notebook, always up to some dumb fun. Something you always looked forward to in spite of the grueling practice ahead of them, well it was something you looked forward to.

Your eyes catch onto the other first years happily chatting with each other, except for Tsuki who preferred to stand on the sidelines, only chiming in to add a sprinkle of sarcasm into the conversation. That seems fun, you knew it was. As you watch everyone laugh at something Yachi says, something in you starts coiling around your heart.

You're suddenly aware of every breath you take, your thoughts start to repeat 'breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out...'

Your surroundings start to feel heavy, like you were tethered to your place. The sound of your own breathing feels louder than the voices in the gym. So focused on your empty notebook that everything else blurs at the edges of your vision.

It wasn't until you caught golden-brown eyes staring at you from across the court, genuine concern masked under a nonchalant gleam. You hold his gaze for longer than you'd like, unsure if there's anything else hidden under the bespectacled stare.

Tsuki only tilts his head in the direction of the other first years, probably telling you to come with them. You can only refuse, solemnly shaking your head. They can't possibly want you there with them, not after ignoring them for the better part of a week. It wouldn't be right to just butt in like that.

He probably knows that you're still not giving in, because it looked like he let out a sigh before walking towards them. Not before one last stare down with you, his gaze asking if you're sure about your decision. You can only hesitantly nod, you're not sure, you don't want to pick this decision, but you've convinced yourself that you're backed into a corner.

A corner you made up.

Well, no use in thinking about it now.

"Oi [Y/N], I'm gonna lock up the gym now! Better get going" Oh coach Ukai, you forgot he was still here. Taking your notebook and pen into your arms, you nod at the coach before heading towards the exit. Body slightly hunched over when you pass him, unable to look at him in the eye.

"Whatever it is you're going through, you know they got your back, right kiddo?" Ukai suddenly says, right before you leave. It makes you stand in your place for a while, thinking. You know they do, it just doesn't feel right to, especially when you didn't give them a valid reason for your distance.

"Y-yeah…Thanks, coach" You mumble, fully facing away from him. Turning to leave, when you catch a glimpse of the orange sky outside. Realizing how late it got, you break into a sprint back to your classroom.

Through the now empty halls, doused in ombre. No other soul in sight, leaving the sounds of your footsteps to be heard. The sky is beautiful today…wouldn't it be fun to experience it together?

Your pace slows right in front of your classroom, 1-4 written on a sign next to the door. Putting your hands on your knees to catch your breath from all the running, you stop to admire the light that passes through your classroom door.

And that's when you heard it, the faint scratching of a chalkboard being erased, you'd know that sound anywhere. It's soft, you could barely hear it over your own breaths, who could be cleaning it at this time? You know your partner didn't come to school today, they were sick. You yourself forgot, so why would anyone be there?

Slowly peeking through the door frame, you see a lone figure standing by the chalkboard. Short blond hair, a lean figure, headphones over his neck, the wire hanging loose. It's him, the one you felt the most guilt for. You watch him for a while, lazily swiping the eraser across the chalkboard.

So that's who your cleanup partner was talking about.

It wasn't Yamaguchi…

It was Tsuki.

He's been the one filing in for you, the one picking up after you. The one who kept pushing you to just talk to the team from a distance, he was looking out for you. The one that's been trying to reach out in his own way, you feel so stupid. Running away while your…

Your…

Your...

Own boyfriend looks out for you even when you unfairly pushed him away.

Your eyes glaze over and your breathing interchanges between short huffs and long shaky sighs. Feeling like you owe so much to him, keeping you afloat in an ocean of your own solitude. Step by step, you make your way over. Speeding up the closer you got.

Reaching him, you immediately press your face into his back. Arms wrapping around his waist, grabbing at the fabric of his school uniform to keep yourself in place. You can feel him tense, before slowly relaxing and going back to his cleaning. The guilt eating up at you even more, you clench your fists around his uniform, trembling in your place. Your lip trembles slightly, making your words sound even more pathetic than they already are.

"I'm…I-I'm so-so-...so-sor—ry—!" You sob, voice breaking off the same way you are. No words could express the mix of relief and remorse you feel, relief to be able to express your true feelings and remorse for your actions that didn't. Your eyes fill with tears that linger at their edge, waiting for a push to get them down.

"You better be, do you know how much they miss you? Those idiots won't stop asking me about you" Kei's words striking right through your heart, the coil no longer tight. Your tears finally fall as your cries get louder. You press your face further into your boyfriend's back for comfort, letting out all the pent up feelings you've harbored the past week.

"I…I just f-felt like—like I wa-was u-useless!" You whimper, sobs reduced to short intakes of air between big breaths.

"Idiot…" Turning to face you fully, Kei's hand settles itself on the top of your head, sliding down to the back. Pushing you further into an embrace of his own, refusing to look at you. One hand on the back of your head, the other fiddling with his headphone wires.

All that you've done, the distance you tried to make, it all came tumbling down. All at once. It was never supposed to take hold of you the way it did, so all you needed was something to justify ending it. Kei, is that something.

"It's just tha-that—Yachi is such-such a good mana–ger…be-better than me…" The words flow out before you could stop them, a confession to your actions. Hearing it out loud, you truly realize how weak your reasons are. It just shows how little it took to have you questioning your worth as a member of the team, laid out in front of the both of you.　

"..." His silence causes you to meekly look up at him, afraid of what he might think. Kei was always good at keeping a neutral face, never making it easy for you to know what he's thinking.

"I don't want to stop being your guys' manager…" You lower your head, voice a whisper, lip still quivering slightly.

"Then don't, no one's telling you to quit"

Huh.

"But—" You quickly look back up at him.

"But nothing, Yachi's great and all but when will we ever get another clutz like you who pays for my drink?" He has a smug look on his face after saying that, eyes filled with nothing but mischief.

You say nothing, words stuck in your throat. Still staring at his stupid smile, he's probably so proud of himself for that. But, you knew he said that to cheer you up. Something to keep you out of your own head, and it's working.

"Way to ruin the moment…" You mumble, "Could've been a bit more dramatic" A soft smile takes over your expression, already feeling much more relieved than before.

"You can do that by yourself," Kei retorts, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

"But you'd still do it with me" Your smile grows, eyes filled with adoration for the pretty face in front of you. After being alone for the better part of a week, it was nice to finally talk again. Even if you had so much making up to do, to everyone in the team, maybe you could start with the one who still held you close.

"Oh? You sound so sure of yourself for someone who's been running away from me" Eyebrow raised in faux skepticism, waiting for your answer.

"I promise I'll make it up to you first" You tell him, before burying your face back into his front, basking in his familiar scent and warmth where you feel most at ease.

"You better"

And you will. To all of them.

Walking home from school during sunset is a special kind of rare to you, barely anyone on the streets. Your newfound goal for the following week, circling in your mind. Beside you was Kei, matching your pace with long strides contrasting your own smaller steps.

"Kei…Do you want to stop by Paprika heaven?" You suddenly ask.

"Paprika heaven? Really?" Kei is not convinced you're being serious, you can practically sense that raised brow.

"It's a cafe! I know the name isn't the sweetest sounding but trust me on this!" You insist, letting out an exasperated huff.

"Shouldn't it be closed?" He questions further, still doubtful.

"It closes at 9, I checked" You proudly exclaim, crossing your arms with a content look on your face.

Kei rolls his eyes at your antics, "Alright, I yield" he raises his hands in surrender, yet a smirk still makes its way onto his face, "But you're paying"

You freeze, realizing that he's right. You are going to pay for it, with your own money. Immediately, your figure deflates dramatically. Slouching forward with an exaggerated groan.

"Right…" Your wallet will never forgive you. But not because Paprika Heaven was too expensive, a piece of your soul just dies whenever you take out a remotely large amount of money from your wallet.

This apparently amuses your boyfriend because he starts laughing, so much so that his shoulders move in time with each laugh. He turns to look at your stunned figure, which only entertains him more. Hearing his mocking laughter, it shakes you out of your stupor. Irritation starts to take hold of you, wanting him to stop laughing at your obvious misery.

"Wha—?! Stop laughing!" Your fists make contact with your boyfriend's chest, repeatedly hitting him to get him to shut.

"I'm serious! I might become poor after this!"

"That's your own fault" In between laughs, Kei is still able to call you out. Seriously, can't he take this seriously?

After a while he calms down, wiping a single tear from his eye. You also calm down, arms tired from the repeated attacks on your boyfriend. Leaning your forehead on his chest to rest, eyes closing on their own from the change in atmosphere. Kei only stands proud, hands in his pockets and a grin spread across his face in content.

Comfortable silence wash over you, the sun still peeking just beyond the horizon, lighting up the road just enough for you to see the way ahead. It's way too late for a bunch of high school students to be out, let alone ones who plan on staying out. But that doesn't matter, you can take the worried lectures from your parents later. Right now, you want to make up for lost time.

"Kei—," You raise your head to face him, taking a deep breath,

"Thank you" A closed eyed smile appears on your face, "For still putting up with me"

"...Whatever" He looks away from you, eyes gazing over the road in front of you.

But no matter how much he tries to hide it,

You can still see that small genuine smile on his face.

[yuttikkele]

please tell me more about gen z lotf au 🙏🙏

OFCCC!! i wrote a lot more about this than i thought i could, and i feel like i could keep going but i do wish to go to sleep! ty for the ask! (there was also an anon ask with this question, idk if it was you, but i'm just gonna answer this one lol)

the choir boys all know each other irl (obvi they still have choir together). everyone lives roughly in the same vicinity, but no one knows that.

they all met online during the pandemic. possibly through video games, twitter, or tiktok

how did this ragtag group of people all become friends? idk fortnite probably

i don't know much about fortnite, but it seems like it would start some friendships and/or rivalries. maybe minecraft or roblox too.

how they met and became friends is hazy, like how the beta kids became friends in homestuck. point is: they're all friends. pretty much.

some boys are closer friends than others, but they're all mutuals. they're all in like the same community. what community? that is a good question i should probably think of an answer

piggy uses the nickname people bullied him with as his online name. he gets cyberbullied and has ended up on many a cringe account, but it doesn't really bother him anymore. he likes to spread information, but he was a little self-righteous about it before he quit twitter. now he argues with people on instagram. piggy's also a redditor.

ralph usually just watches other people's content, but sometimes he'll post something and it'll get pretty popular because he's ralph and being well-liked is an innate part of his character. ralph does prefer to go out and do stuff than being online all the time.

simon is chronically online. being shy, he gravitated towards the internet. he's definitely a fandom girlie and has a tumblr (hi tumblr). he spreads positivity on the internet all the time. he's one of the good ones fr. i do hc simon as a Christian, so he does spread the Word a lot as an lgbtq affirming Christian dude

jack doesn't spend too much time on the internet. he also isn't allowed a lot of these medias by his parents, so that may have something to do with it. he does get upset when his posts don't get as many likes as ralph's

roger ragebaits and leaves hate comments all the time, but he has moments where he's nice. maurice memer obviously. sam and eric are the voros twins. i don't have too many thoughts about these guys just yet

they voice chat and sometimes video call

meeting each other irl for the first time led to the utter disgust at ralph's blindness in the fashion department

ok onto them reading lord of the flies cause i think this is such a funny concept

they all miraculously start reading lord of the flies as a class assignment at the same time

they all tell each other this and they're all like "loooool that's crazy we're all reading the same book at the same time"

i saw someone on my last post ab this say exactly what im about to say. it is truly the only way to go with this.

everyone's all "oh haha ralph's got the name of the first character AND he's blonde!" "piggy has the same name as peter's online name! haha how sill-" "WHY IS MY FULL LEGAL NAME IN THIS BOOK???"

the last person is jack btw if you couldn't tell

the exact names and character descriptions matching up a little too well with the boys startles them, but they still joke about it A LOT.

i mean, think about it, if you were forced to read this book in class and you find out you and your friends are basically the main characters, you would NOT stop cracking jokes about it.

"'ugly without silliness.' wow jack, william golding really DID put you in his story!"

they do start to get a little more freaked out when, yk, stuff starts going down in the book and they have to analyze it.

piggy's eventually like "OK we, or at least i, have got to figure this out." and he goes and does some research.

aaaaand that is all i can tell you for now :))

i do headcanon a lot of the boys as queer, but my hcs of them as gen z-ers do differ a little from my hcs of them as gen silencers.

piggy is a strict ally, his aunt is an ally, allies all around, until he realizes he is not so straight as he seems and is not really just an ally. bisexual

ralph knows nothing about the sexuality and gender biz he just does what feels right. he's pretty much demisexual/romantic tho.

simon is a gay dude. he is gnc and on the trans spectrum somewhere

jack is the only one using queer slurs, everyone gets onto him for it. he's gay, but he doesn't know it/won't accept it (because everyone in his life is HOMOPHOBIC!!!). when he does finally accept it, he is still using those slurs as slurs he is not reclaiming them.

[navvyu]

eyyy can i request lilia hcs with Yuu!reader who is like

just became like another kid of his-??

like they are always chatting with him excitedly, which sometimes makes the fae petting their head

(not mentioning them bickering with sebek 24/7) but overall they make a good company

sorry if too much bye <3

AN: Thanks for requesting! i wasn't really sure what to title this so i hope its what you asked for (°ー°〃) (i also wrote this as platonic) btw this came out WAY longer than i thought it would so- yeah :).

Lilia with a reader that he helps open up / Lilia (emotionally) adopts reader

*not beta read

includes: lilia (platonic) + mentions of sebek, silver, and malleus

lilia

the second lilia met you, he was trying to get you to loosen up

lilia often follows you around and talks to you even if you don't respond or seem cold to him

he can acknowledge that it takes time for one to build trust so he doesn't push more than he needs to

once you open up to him (and the rest of diasomnia) he he ecstatic!

He often matches your energy when your excited or just overall happy

Lilia loves watching you interact with the rest of diasomnia, it fills him with an odd sense of pride

Lilia also is NOT afraid to run across half the campus to give you a quick hug before you go to your next class

If your having trouble with any of your classes, he's willing to help you out or study with you

while your both in the lounge, lilia might play/style your hair just for fun

attempts to cook for you on multiple occasions, you can guess how that ends up...

Lilia enjoys listening to you rant about anything, trash talking somebody? He's 100% agreeing with you. Non-stop talking about something that interests you? He's giving occasional commentary. Talking about how you got some good grades on something? He's cheering you on.

He finds it amusing when he stumbles upon you and Sebek being very passive-aggressive to each other, he might step in if it gets too heated but usually he just watches you laughing silently

Seeing you and Silver together just warms his old heart!

Additionally, seeing you and Malleus hang out makes him happy for Malleus, but he's also happy that you decided to hang out with Malleus

"Well Kiddo, how about we go buy you something nice! Why? What do you mean why? Can't your old man wanna buy you something?"

[brighttears]

Breaking Glass

Joel Miller x f!reader

No use of y/n, no physical description except for female sex organs and having hair

Summary: It takes a close call on a run outside of Boston for Joel to realize that he needs to finally tell you the truth—he’s in love with you.

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings: pining (Joel, resolved), violence, description of being cut (brief and metaphorical), smut (minors dni), unprotected PiV, cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, darling, good girl)

A/n: WOOOO finally i wrote something. this took way longer than i thought it would. BIG THANKS to my lovely bestie @bejeweledblueberries for being my beta reader <<<<33333 (btw the smut is p much unedited) (also the cover photo is so lq but its such a pretty picture so)

—

“You ready?” You ask, grabbing your gun to tuck into your waistband, flipping your shirt over where it sits on your back to conceal it.

Joel does not like being in Boston, but he can’t say he’s ever excited to leave—leaving means danger, extra danger, more than what you’ll find within the QZ; infected, for one, but not only. And though he feels safe with you and your weaponry at his side, he does not like going outside the QZ with you. However, the two of you have agreed that him going out without you is just as acceptable as you going out without him, and there are things out there you can’t get anywhere else, and you need a generator. 

Joel looks you over while you rustle through your backpack and then slip it on. You’re so beautiful, he wants to say, but he won’t. 

From the moment you met, Joel felt something shift. Someone had introduced you to him as a solid resource, so you did a few deals, and then you became an asset. That was the word Joel stuck with for a while, but when you started going on runs together and sort of teamed up as traders, Joel found something more growing. Shoving it down worked adequately well, though, so Joel felt relatively safe. Nonetheless, the feelings have continued to simmer, but he’s been able to keep them contained.

If he had his way, right now he would take your bag off of you, lay your weapons down, scoop you up, take you into the bedroom, and lay down with you; nothing more, just lay and hold you safe with him. But he won’t.  

At his silence, you look at him and raise your eyebrows. 

“Oh, yeah.” Joel snaps back into it, stealing one last double take before grabbing his own gun to hide like yours and slinging on his pack. You start for the door first and Joel follows you down the noisy, dingy hallway. 

The afternoon sun is harsh outside and the streets are bustling, but you have a learned path that you follow to sneak out past the walls. 

Once out, the din of the QZ trails behind you for only a short time before being replaced by chirping birds, the rustling leaves of the green trees, and refreshing flora. A subtle peace falls over the two of you as you pull away, but a dismal tone intrudes as you venture out further into the ruins of the former world. Many things are left exactly as they were, but broken, dilapidated, decayed—visibly abandoned in the chaos of that final fateful day. Joel diverts his gaze when you pass an empty stroller, a faded pink blanket dirty and rumpled on the ground in front of it. 

The goal is a generator, and Joel turns his attention back to the search for any place you might be able to find one; there’s supposed to be a hardware store around here somewhere. You pass clothing stores, grocery stores and drugstores, a jewelry shop, and restaurants, all overcome by nature, with ivy snaking through broken windows to crawl onto ceilings, welcome mats covered with moss, any hanging plant holders a waterfall of colorful flowers with curly, verdure tails. Mother Earth has come back as queen decorator and with her new freedom has wasted no space.

After walking for a while, you pause in front of an upscale restaurant, and Joel slows to a stop, coming to your side to look in with you. The inside is open to view from the large wooden frames missing their glass. The wood interiors are rich but mostly wrecked by water damage. Every table is still set up with plates, silverware, folded cloth napkins, and large wine glasses, though all dirty and dusty. Liquor bottles sparkle in the sunlight on the back wall’s bar. 

After a moment, Joel looks at you and asks, “Watchu thinkin’ about?” 

You hum a sigh, then turn to him with a wishful smile, “I just bet their food was sooooo good,” you laugh. Joel smirks and then gives into a smile as he watches yours. Inevitably, his mind wanders to taking you out there, you in a tight dress, he with cufflinks in, clinking glasses with a red rose on the table—

Suddenly, a booming voice calls out, “Hey there, friends, haven’t seen you around these parts!”

You both whip around and, far but still too close, four men are walking towards you. Their clothes are dirty and ripped but their faces are unconventionally cheerful. 

The man speaking shows off two broken teeth, gapping his smile. “Oh, look, a gentleman and a lady!”

The hair on the back of Joel’s neck stands. Quietly, he states “Foe.” and raises his gun, but you beat him at the punch, shooting twice and then yelling “Go!”. 

Joel instinctively bolts into the restaurant and hears a gruff “Fuck!” as he sprints to the bar at the end of the room. He throws himself around it, quickly pulling out his revolver to cock in his hand on the concrete floor as his back hits hard against the cabinets. 

Glass shatters and he ducks his head as the cups from atop the bar blast over his head. At the top of his vision, dozens of shelved liquor bottles burst, pouring reds and golds. Clear vodka drips onto the toe of his shoe at the end of his outstretched leg. It runs cool into his sock as it trails down his boot.

Joel shoots out an exhale and then whips around, throwing his arms over the bar to return fire, but his bullets only batter the wooden tables flipped on their sides, shielding the men set behind them. Joel ducks back and lands just in time for another powerful succession of bullets. A half broken bottle falls and crashes onto the floor and he shuts his eyes and swivels his head, feeling the liquor spray his cheek. 

He whirls back over the bar but after only a few shots hears a loathsome clicking. When he crouches down to check the cylinder, he finds it empty. 

“Fuck.” Joel grits through his teeth. 

Thoughts churn and froth in adrenaline as he slaps over empty pockets, and when a hand lands on his belt, where his knife should be, he looks down at it and realizes he must have forgotten it. 

Running the day back through his head, he remembers looking at you right before you left; he must have been too distracted and left it, probably on the table right next to his gun. Joel closes his eyes and hits his head back on the bar. “God damn it.”

Then his eyes shoot back open—where the fuck are you? His heart stops. Where the fuck are you?

Joel shuts his eyes again and realization of his true failure floods through him.

He loves you, but he’s never said a word. Never has a breath of it ever left his lips. Why? The fear that has kept it sealed away seems like complete bullshit compared to the electrocution of fear that shot through him when he realized he’s out of bullets. He had been afraid of living. He sees that now. 

Behind his eyes, he sees you. 

The first image that flows into his mind is your smile—something hard to find in the Boston QZ, something that took a long time to see, and something that knocked the breath out of him the first time he saw it. He had watched your lips broaden in slow motion, revealing teeth in a perfect curve. He’d made you laugh. He tried making jokes a lot more often after that, and started becoming familiar with your dazzling smile in return.

He remembers the first time you went on a run together; you had snuck out early in the morning to split through between guard’s shifts when the sun was still rising, gold in the divine forestry of the world beyond gray walls. There was a moment where the sun perfectly framed your profile, highlighting the curve of your nose, your lips, your brow, your lashes; the image is etched in his memory. 

One day, out in the streets, some Firefly approached him when he was really not in the fucking mood for it, and right when he took a step forward, tensing to throw a punch, you had grabbed his hand. It was the first time you’d touched, and it brought him down immediately. It didn’t calm him, distracted him more like it, but he let you drag him away. One look from you told him to quit it and he followed obediently behind you while you led him back to his apartment. Mesmerized, he watched the swish of your hips the whole way back. In front of his building you told him, “You need to learn how to pick your battles, Joel. He wasn’t worth your punch.” He objected, you returned, “Figure out what’s important and put that zeal of yours into that.” 

He thought on that for a long time, it was the precursor to his realization that he’s in love with you. He barely slept the night he did. When you showed up at his door the next morning, he was tongue tied. You asked him what was wrong, he told you he’d barely slept. When you asked why, he admitted he’d just been thinking about what you said, about figuring out what’s important, but when you asked him what conclusion he had come to, he lied. He felt completely unable to tell you then. 

After that day, Joel debated almost habitually if he’d ever tell you. That’s when the fantasies started. Torture came with it, too—he was so very torn, so full of longing; it was like he’d been cut, his love for you was like a wound, in such deprived circumstances. He was too afraid of losing his only friend, and to be left behind with a gash of unreciprocated love. The longing deepened quickly, but he grew to tolerate it; he needed you around, whether it was exactly how he wanted it or not. No matter what, he just didn’t want to lose you, and that fear kept the lips of his heart sewn shut. 

Once there was a time when you had arranged to meet up and you opened your door to meet him with a black eye, split lip, and a bent posture. A protective hand hovered over the side of your ribs while you stepped aside for him to enter your apartment. Joel stumbled over “Are you okay?” and “Who did this to you?”, pulled both further into your apartment and back out to beat the fucker’s ass, but you sat him down and kept him locked there when you begged him to stay—“Just stay here, okay? Please don’t go out there to start a fucking brawl in the street, that’d be stupid—you’d get teamed up on or busted by some FEDRA guard, I don’t want to get you lookin’ like me or locked in a cell or whatever the fuck—it’s just not worth it, okay? Just, please stay here.”

So he did, all day, and you let him clean you up better than you had yourself. He focused his gaze more than he has even when shooting a gun when you lifted your shirt up so he could check the damage to your ribs. It wasn’t all that difficult with that bruise though, black and blue with flecks of red, threatening tears in his eyes. He almost told you that day.

Still too scared. He needed this moment now, because now he might really lose you. 

The raspy voice of one of the men trapping Joel takes him out of his head, “Haven't heard any shots outta you in awhile, you outta bullets, fuck face?” He cackles, shrill and ruthless, “You’re fucked now, huh?” He cackles again, ugly and evil. The laugh itself sounds like that of a killer. 

“Come on out, we’ll spare ya!” Another shouts.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re real gentlemen, we don’t shoot unarmed men!” A third adds and they all laugh. 

“Gotta come out sometime!”

He’s right. Panicked, Joel glances around, looking for something to use. All there is is broken glass—useless from this position. 

“Shit.”

This quick run outside the walls, where he foolishly guessed he’d only need one gun, has turned into a shootout, and he’s lost track of you. The possibility of you having been killed ties Joel’s chest up tight as a noose. 

Then, three shots but no breaking glass, a man’s agonized scream, another shot, and quiet. Joel’s breathing does not calm and he remains flustered until your voice breaks the silence.

“Joel?”

Immediately, he shoots up to see you standing in the doorway of the restaurant, gun still raised, pointed off to the side at a slumped body. Your chest heaves and your hair is disheveled. 

“Are you okay?” You call out as he’s already holstering his gun and swinging around the bar. He basically charges at you, flooded with relief just at the sight of you. Then you collide, and Joel wraps his arms around you impulsively, his lips almost touching your shoulder with his nose on your neck. Joel closes his eyes, breathing in deeply with his cheek firmly against your skin and letting his arms squeeze you. Enveloped in you, his surroundings fall away, and all he wants is to hold you. 

A near death experience is often something that knocks some sense into people and Joel just hopes to god he can keep this fresh courage long enough to get home to finally tell you that he loves you, because there will come another time when he is fucked, doomed, out of bullets, and you may not be there, and he will die with a mouth full of regret. He doesn’t let go of you. 

“Joel, are you okay? Hey, hey, are you ok?” You put your hands on his shoulders, lightly pushing him away, but he doesn’t release you, nor does he open his eyes, wanting to just feel you and listen to you breathe.

“Yeah, I’m ok.” He murmurs against you.

“Joel,” you say softly, then move your hands from his shoulders to instead wrap them around him, resting your chin on his shoulder and brushing your hands up and down his back slowly. Joel feels your chest expand and contract with a deep breath. After a few moments, you whisper, “We have to go. It’s not safe here.” 

Joel takes one more inhale of your scent before reluctantly loosening his grip. He pulls back slowly, letting his hands shift down, stilling on your forearms to hold you before him. He looks over your face, idling, a dreamy haze over his mind, almost dizzy from the adrenaline rush wearing off and the sleepiness of love.   

Your lashes flutter and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Your thumbs circle over where they rest on his biceps. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“We really should go.”

Joel doesn’t answer. You’re right, but he’s afraid to move, afraid that if he lets go, of you and of this moment, his fervor for truth will stay here, and he’ll leave it behind and stay silent. But should he risk staying here and Infected showing up, having heard all the gunfire, or if the recently deceased have friends not far behind?

Finally, he nods. As you turn and start toward the door, Joel’s hands, still not ready to let go of you, trail down your arms. One slips down into your hand and you look back at him, grow a smile and curl your finger to hook in his, tugging lightly to pull him behind you. 

And then you’re off. There’s no real room for conversation as you leerily duck and weave your way back to the QZ, but Joel forces the prior moments to run through his mind like a film. He is determined to grip this chance, thinking again and again of how he almost left you behind in this world without you knowing the truth about his feelings for you. 

When you reach the QZ, only barely making it before curfew when the guards will begin rolling through with their bright flashlights and loaded guns, you slip quietly through the streets before finally making it to the apartment you share. 

Only recently had you began living together, decidedly mostly out of convenience, since you go on runs together so frequently and have the same goal of leaving Boston—Joel has a brother out there somewhere, and you would simply like to get the fuck out of this cesspool that used to be Boston. Also because you get along so well, and well, he loves you, and he likes to be around you as much as possible. 

Decorating isn’t really something that exists in the QZ; belongings typically consist of necessities and maybe a few little personal indulgences, such as the butterfly window hanging that Joel couldn’t help himself from getting for the place. You arrived with your life in two bags. Nevertheless, your mark has trailed into his apartment, and somehow, the air feels a little cleaner with you there. 

Because you came to him, your bed is technically the pullout couch, but since his is much bigger, whenever you arrive home after him at night, he’s already on the pullout, forcing you into the more comfortable, actual bed. 

Every morning that Joel’s up first, or if he wakes in the night, he takes a moment, or a few, to lean in the doorframe to watch you sleep. He adores how you look when you’re unwound. If it’s in the middle of the night, he is often tempted—no, he aches to crawl in, even just to lay next to you. More frequently though, he fantasizes about moving closer, taking you into his arms, feeling your body against his, your hair in his face, to fill his lungs with your scent, even if it’s just sweat and ash. He imagines the little sound you’d make or the breath you’d let out once you feel him there, your fingers intertwining with his when he closes his hand over yours, you snuggling closer… sometimes he has to pull himself away for a quick dick pulling in the other room. Regardless of how it makes him feel—horny, smitten, quaking with yearning, or just some kind of tangled melancholy, he treasures these quiet moments and tries to memorize the relaxation on your face. 

These are not the only times he likes to watch you—sometimes, he’ll just be sitting at the table and you’ll be in the kitchen making coffee or in the living room tinkering with something or other, and he’ll play with ideas of a domestic life. Very secretly, he’ll roll around in the sound of your first name with his last name, or, unfrequently and especially confidently, a wedding.

Joel simply likes seeing you, being near you, and no matter what you’re doing, he adores spending time with you. The only way he can get a splash of contentment is when he’s with you—there’s nothing else here that could do that for him here. Only you, only you, runs through his head often. 

Tonight, you’re visibly exhausted as you walk into the apartment before him, dropping your bag on the table—right next to his knife, exactly where he had guessed it was—and rub your hands over your face. They slide down your neck, pausing briefly before falling to your sides. Then you turn to him and ask, “Are you ok?”

He nods, “I’m alright. Are you?”

“I am now, yeah,” you chuckle, “now that we’re back and I know you’re ok. What happened back there?”

Joel shrugs, “Ran outta bullets.” He chuckles sheepishly. 

“Oh.” you laugh. “Shit, yeah, you were three on one. I was around the corner fighting off one of those fucks. It was a knife fight though, usually takes a little longer.” Suddenly, you throw your hands to your head, “Fuck, I’m–I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner, I mean, you needed backup and I… took so long to fucking—”

“No, no,” He puts his hand out to stop you, his brow pinching up, “no, don’t worry about it sw—” he pauses, clearing his throat to pull back in ‘sweetheart’—maybe he’d been thinking about his feelings too much on the way back—“don’t go blamin’ yourself. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. We got ambushed, that’s jus’ how it goes. I’m jus’ glad you’re alright—” Joel then paces over to you, scanning your face and body, “you sure you’re alright? Did’n’ get nicked or somethin’? Don’t hide that shit from me, you know,” 

“No, I’m fine. Maybe a couple scratches and bruises, but that’s it.” As he turns you, leaning in to check your back, you chuckle, “I’m fine, Joel.”

“You sure?” He asks again, quietly when he returns in front of you, turning your face from side to side with his fingers lightly along your jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

As he looks over your face, he gets caught in your eyes, almost doelike with a sweet smile. He swallows hard, suddenly realizing your proximity. 

“Okay.” He almost whispers. 

Your lips twitch, you blink, and he swallows hard again, then lets go of you and steps back. 

You blow out an exhale, looking around. “There’s a box of bullets in my bag you can grab, I gotta wash this off,” you tell him as you walk backwards into the kitchen, then take your blade out of its sheath and turn to the sink. Joel moves to the table, slowly unzipping your bag, pulling out the box, and reloading his gun. His heart rate has picked up because he feels that now is the time and fuck, here it is, and he has to do this, it’s what he’d been promising himself he’d do the whole way back. His anxiety reassures him that this is his one chance; that damning fear is close to overtaking him again, and he can’t let it this time.

Joel plods over to lean against the counter next to the sink. 

As you run your knife under the water, you glance at him with a light smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He copies nervously. 

You glance at him again, then shut the water off, wipe the blade on your shirt, and resheath it on your hip. Leaning your hands over the edge of the sink, you shift your weight to one hip and turn your head to him. “What’s up?”

Joel meets your gaze and takes a deep breath. The broken sink continues to drip, clinking into the drain. “Well I,” he starts, “well, thank you, for… y’know.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” You chuckle. 

“No, I mean, I know, I just… wanna thank you anyway. But, that’s not….” Joel takes another deep breath, stalling. “Uhm… well, I just… that was… that was a close call.” You nod, looking down. “And I’m… really glad… well… ok, listen.” You look back up at him but then he has to look back to the floor to gather his thoughts. “That was a close call.” He begins again. “I’ve had a few, but haven’t had one like that in awhile. You…” saved me. Not just then, you’ve been saving me for a long time. Joel clears his throat and takes another finalizing exhale, forcing the truth out with it, “You know what they say about… near death experiences I guess, where people get uh, moment of clarity, when they see everythin’ they regret doin’? Well, I think that could count as a near death experience, cause I was thinkin’... I mean, y’know, I got a lotta things I regret, but the one that was on my mind, just for a second, before you came in and saved my dumbass,” Joel looks up at you to smirks and you return one. “Well…” Joel’s smirk fades and as his eyes travel over your face his heart swells. Confidence and fear mix like water and oil within it, but the persistence he’d been cultivating surfaces and urges him to continue. “Well, I was thinkin’ about you.” Your head tilts slightly and your eyes soften, the corner of your lip pulled up slightly. “I was thinkin’ about how… I never told you that uh,” Joel looks down and nervously scratches his eyebrow. “I–I’m… in love with you.” He puts his hand on his hip, the other leaning on the counter, keeping his eyes down. Your hands clench the edge of the sink. His heart flees with pattering beats. The faucet drips its endless drip. 

At least you know. At least you know, he thinks to himself. He hadn’t built any expectations of what you might say, he can’t say he’s ready if you reject him, and he hasn’t thought far enough ahead to what he’d do if you do. He just needs you to know. 

Joel watches your fingernails turn white pressed against the silver of the sink and feels his heartbeat punching in his chest. This is his moment of truth. He knows that one way or another, nothing will be the same now; if this is the end between the two of you, he will never let himself share a truth like this ever again. He will leave Boston tomorrow and never look back. 

Finally, he looks up at you for some kind of tell, his lips parted, brow anxiously knitting together, but your eyes are locked unrevealingly on the drain. “Do you—could you—I mean, i–is that ok?” 

“This is something you planned on taking to the grave?” You ask, finally turning to him with still unrevealing eyes. 

Joel rubs his hand on his forehead, closing his eyes, shamefaced. “…I did. I jus’… I don’t wanna ruin everythin’.” He shakes his head. “Look, y’know, I really like you, I mean I lo–I love you, but, but, I jus’, y’know… like bein’ around you. I like everythin’ about you, I like talkin’ to you, I mean I feel like I can talk t’you. An’ I mean, we work pretty well together,” glancing at you, he adds, “don’t’y’ think?” He moves his hand to rub the back of his neck. “I think you’re so,” Joel looks back to the floor, finishing quietly and awkwardly, “beautiful… and I jus’… don’t wanna lose you. An’ back there… I thought I was gonna. I mean, I was gonna lose eveyrthin’, I was gonna lose my life, an’ I felt so… jus’… full of regret. That I never told you. I hope I show it, that’s the import’n thing. But I jus’ thought it was import’n that… you knew that I love you. An’ you’re worth lovin’. An’ I jus’ felt like you should know.” He concludes. 

“Well… I’m glad you told me.” This makes Joel look up and is met with a light smile. This time, your eyes are soft. You pull your lips in briefly before continuing, “I really like you too. I mean, I really like living with you and… I really like spending time with you and talking to you. You’re the first friend I’ve had in awhile,” you chuckle, “and… I feel safe around you.” Joel breathes deeply. You feel safe around him, one of his deepest desires come true. I’ll keep you safe forever. Just stay with me forever, and I’ll keep you safe forever. I’ll love you forever. “And… I just really like you, and I’m… I love you too.” You breathe out, “I love you Joel,” and your eyes are on his lips and you turn to him, fall into him and you kiss. 

You taste sweet and you’re in his arms again and your fingers tangle in his hair and you grip his shirt. Joel’s hand holds your bicep and then the back of your neck and his arm wraps around your waist. “I love you,” Joel mumbles into your lips and pulls you closer until his body is flush with yours. 

“I love you,” you return, and sling your arms around his shoulders, both hands in his hair as his slides over your face, holding his thumb in your cheek, his eyes squeeze shut. 

How long he’s been waiting to have you like this. 

You’re both sweaty and grimey and there’s a tinge of copper in your scent but Joel appreciates it with the rest of it. He smooths his hand over your tangled hair, bunching it in his hand to keep your face in place for him as he slips his greedy tongue through your teeth. You twist your tongue with his, them becoming their own snaking dance while you pull yourselves desperately closer to each other. Joel takes your face in his hands and, like a dam breaking, tells you again, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” in between kisses. In response, you hum into his mouth and wrap your arms tight around him, dragging over his back and into his hair, pressing your bodies even closer together. 

You pull back with hot, heavy breaths, still sliding your hands all over him, and say, “I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” and punctuate with a slow sloppy kiss. Joel’s chest swarms and then he hoists you up, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Feeling your weight fills him with satisfaction he didn’t know he longed for and hums into your mouth, starting for his bedroom with you in his arms. 

The passion develops, as natural and guaranteed as changing weather. The novelty creates a storm that Joel is unprepared for but embraces with awe. The storm develops quick when he drops you onto the bed and you reach up to pull him on top of you by the lapels of his flannel, taking him back to your mouth like you’re starving for it. Joel’s entire body is hot as his hips weigh down over yours. Electricity buzzes over the area of contact and Joel feels himself getting hard, the storm now a hurricane of lust that pushes his hand up your shirt. When you moan, it vibrates through his lips and all the way down to his cock. He comes up to sit on his knees and when he lifts his shirt you follow, eager to see the parts of each other never before revealed. 

“Fuck,” Joel mumbles and returns back down on your body. His hand slides lazily over your torso and he moans into your lips when you reach down for his belt.

“I want you,” you say, and Joel moans again.

“I’m yours, baby.”

You slip his belt open and don’t bother with his buttons or zipper before slipping your hand in to slide over his length. Joel pulls back for only a moment to breathe, then goes back to attacking your lips. His hand reaches down to grip your wrist in a frenzied move, overwhelmed by the feeling of your hand on his hardening cock. 

“You like that?” You ask into his mouth.

“Yes,” is all he can get out, then moans when your hand closes over his base. 

“God, you’re big.”

“You want it?” He slurs. 

“Yes.”

At that, Joel slides his own hand down your pants, palm on your clit while he curves his fingers to feel the wetness already soaking through your underwear. He moans, once again overwhelmed by the want he feels from you. “Yeah, I know you do.”

You remove your hand from him, instead wrapping your legs around him to pull him down, squeezing his hand in, allowing him to feel the details under it. He hums and bites your lip. 

Joel raises up again, using one hand to unbutton and unzip your pants with the other working on his own. Breathing out deeply as you watch him, your hands slide over sides up to over your face and into your hair, reaching up to squeeze the pillows your head rests on. 

A lamp mistakenly left on allows for light for him to view you under. Admiring you, Joel shakes his head and speaks his mind, “Beautiful ain’t enough to describe it.” 

You chuckle and sigh, looking down to watch him tug down your underwear and jeans. You widen your legs for him to tug them down, bending one knee to remove a leg and then the other for him to pull free. Joel doesn't bother with his own, only pulling his down enough to make room for his cock, which bounces out of his lowered boxers. When your eyes flick from it back to his, your body lifts and falls with a deep sigh. Seeing the lust in your eyes, he finds himself unable to take any time with it, and he comes back down on you, slipping his hand to his member, now rock hard, to guide it to your entrance. 

“Yes,” you breath out, once again opening your legs for him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” 

Joel kisses your lips lightly before pulling away to look through the window of his body above you to the dark mess of curls between your thighs, the muscles of his groin tensing as he enters you. 

“Fuck. you’re tight.”

“You’re big.”

“Too big?”

You shake your head. 

“Good.” And with that, the entirety of his shaft enters you and you both moan.

“Shit.”

“Fuck me, Joel,” you whisper.

Joel groans deeply at your response, then repositions, taking his hand away to set his forearm over the bed, his other hand dragging over your face, resting his thumb on your lip. He watches your face as he starts with long, slow strokes. After a few, he can’t get himself to pull so far back out of you, needing to be inside you and unable to help himself from starting to snap his hips into a fast pace. The force of his full length has you bouncing and you close your eyes, eyebrows furrowed up with your mouth opened wide, pouring out moans. 

“Yeah?” Joel says breathily, “You like that, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh,”

“I wanna make you cum, baby,” he says, then messily kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“I want you to cum inside me,” 

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up with my cum?” He says, then bites your lip.

It flips up from between his teeth when you reply, “Yes.”

“I wanna make you cum first.” To punctuate, Joel’s pace quickens, loading his full length into you over and over again.

“Joel, feels so good,” you squeeze the words out, eyes still closed and brow pinched up, fingers raking through his hair. 

The feeling of your hands holding his face close to yours and your tight walls around him fulfills Joel’s long lived need to unite your bodies like this and his chest is filled with all the feelings of every moment he’s fantasized about this exact scenario. 

“God, please, fuck me,”

He hums, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Finally, your eyes snap open, locking on his as you careers his face, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,”

Joel reattaches your mouths messily, sliding his tongue around your lips before it finds its way back in, and your nails scratch over his cheeks as you pull him closer. Your moans break the hold in brief intervals, singing them to each other as you fuck. Joel moves a hand down to grip your ass, holding you steady as he ruts into you. 

Pleasure builds inside of him warm and tight and Joel suddenly pulls out, “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Without pause, he moves back on the bed and settles his mouth between your legs, sliding his hands up your thighs, and as he starts his tongue along your slit, your hands go back to pull at his hair. 

“Oh shit Joel,” he hears you, muffled with your thighs over his ears, and groans into you as he continues to slip his tongue up and down. His head is clamped tighter between your thigh when he sucks your clit and he feels your moans vibrating through you, your fingernails scratching his scalp. He uses the tip of his tongue on the underside of your clit with his lips suctioned around it, and in no time, you’re trembling around him, bobbing your crotch into his mouth. He feels you crying out more than he hears it and only pulls away when you tug him away by his hair. When he looks up, all he sees is your jaw, your head laid back, breasts on display with your back arched up. He pushes himself up, admiring how your toes curl at the end of your spread legs. Joel smiles as your quivering subsides. Crawling back on top of you, he presses his hand over your now soaking wet pussy, carrying out your orgasm with a few more spasms. As soon as he comes to your face, Joel grabs your lips with his again, kissing you sluggishly with your deep exhales tickling his face. 

“Oh my fucking god, Joel,” you say, pulling his face away. 

“Yeah?” He smiles.

“Yeah,” you chuckle, then bring your mouths back together. Then you take yourself away again, fingertips grazing over his cheeks when you say, “I want you inside me again, I want you to cum inside me,”

Eagerly, Joel is already reaching back down for his dick, slicking it over your pussy. “Yeah? You starvin’ for it, ain’t ya?”

“Mhm,” You nod, your eyes dragging up from his lips back to meet his gaze, circling your thumbs over his cheeks. Sweet desperation paints your face with your brow furrowed and lips swollen. You lick into his mouth, bobbing your hips up to tease his tip inside of you. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Joel says as he guides his cock once again into you, “I’ll give you what you want. Just tell me, an’ it’s yours.”

“I want you,” you reply, bucking your hips up to bring him further in. 

“I’m yours.” He whispers, lips brushing yours as he speaks, before finally filling you with his cock. 

“Yeah, more,” you whine as he begins to fuck you again. “Harder,” is music to his ears, and your body jolts on the bed as he obeys. “Like that, like that,” you breath out, eyes closing briefly before opening back up to his, hands still cupping his face. Though you’re not kissing, your hot and heavy breaths create a link between your mouths and you use the remaining space to keep locked on each other's eyes. 

“You feel so good, baby,” Joel tells you, his voice jumping with his pace “I wanna feel you cum again, can’y cum for me again, sweetheart?”

You simply nod, starting to lay out short moans as you tie your legs around him. “You’re so big,” you mewl, and Joel can’t help but lick into your sounds. You whine again, clamping your legs around him tighter. Open mouthed moans part your lips connection, but Joel appreciates the view, watching your eyes squeeze shut and then open again, lips wet with his spit and your own cum. 

Joel groans in appreciation of it all, your sweaty bodies gripping each other’s in every way, him providing for you, making you feel good, making you cum, and from his lips slips again, “I love you.”

Your response is in the hand thrown back to clutch the pillow, eyes screwed shut again with your lips in an O, and Joel replies with harder thrusts, your groins meeting as he bottoms out. Needing to stabilize himself on the rocking bed, Joel’s hand lands on the wall. 

“Gonna cum for me? Such a good girl, doin’ what I ask. Yeah, I can feel you comin’ close baby. Cum for me, darlin’. Cum for me, and then I’ll cum inside you, js’ like you asked. Go on, baby. Ah, fuck.” 

You cry out, gripping Joel’s hair as your head flips back again, legs still keeping Joel locked deep inside of you. As he feels your pussy contract around him, Joel starts to breathe heavier, letting out grunts, groans, and moans as his thrusts get messier, bumping into your harder to a needy, unsteady beat.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” is his turn to cry out, and, looking down at you, and in the same loud voice, he says, “cum for me baby, cum with me, cum with me.”

Your free hand grabs his wrists as he holds your side, chest jolting with lustful breaths, and then you’re shuddering again, and Joel raises up to grip your sides with both hands. Your orgasms are drawn out as Joel pulls you onto him with deep thrusts, pausing inside of you while he pumps his cum into your tight, quivering sheath. 

When your climaxes subside, you’re left staring at each other, breathing heavily. Joel smiles, then gently lowers himself down to kiss you tenderly. He waits until he’s empty of cum to pull out, cock softening as it rests in the V of your hips. 

“That was fucking amazing,” you say between breathes. 

“You feel better than I ever coulda fuckin’ dreamed.” Joel chuckles, then kisses you one more time before rolling off of you to lie at your side, turning his head to meet you looking back at him.

“You dreamt about that?” You smile.

“Fuck yeah I did.” Joel admits shamelessly. You laugh. “Did you?” 

“Once or twice.” You shrug, chuckling with a toothy smile. Joel chuckles back, then looks up with a heavy sigh. He smiles to himself, then feels your finger on the edge of his lips. He closes his eyes. This is something he’s never felt before, and truly never dreamed. It really is better than anything he ever could have imagined, laying next to you like this, his body still warm, your touch on his lip. Nothing outside of this room exists, nothing over than this bed with you in it. He hums another sigh, then turns his face back to you. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You say with a smile. 

Joel takes your wrist with his hand, feeling the muscles move as you continue to pet his face with your finger.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

His hand falls away from your wrist and he rests it on his stomach, stars in his eyes as he gazes back into yours. 

There's a few minutes of silence, but it’s filled with an air between you like a rosy haze of sweet smelling smoke, lit up under golden light. 

Joel supports his head with his hand under his pillow, allowing a better view to stay with your eyes. As he stargazes, he takes a deep breath through his nose and decides to admit, “…I almost said this before,” his mouth pauses open before he continues, “you saved me today, out there… but you saved me before then. You saved me a long time ago. For a… long, long time, I didn’t really know what I was doin’. I know I had to go get Tommy, I just needed to get a car.” He shifts his head to look up, “I still need to get a car.” Then he looks back at you, “We still need to get a car, you know I’m not goin’ without you. But… I was lost. I felt… empty.” Joel swallows, looking over your face, “But then I had you. N’ then I felt like… I was alive again. Not just survivin’. You made me feel… real. I forgot what smilin’ felt like,” Joel chuckles, “until you. All I wanted was to leave. I mean, I still wanna leave here, Bostn’, but then, all I really wanted to be was with you. Anywhere, with you.”

You smile, and then roll to your side, sliding your hand over his chest and kiss him. He closes his eyes but keeps still. Heaven sounds in a cloud passing over him as your sweetness once again blesses his lips. 

“You know, it’s funny how much of that I’ve always felt, too.” You start, still over him, and start to trace over his features with a featherlight touch. “I didn’t have a brother. I just wanted to get out. I was happy to meet you because you were a way out. But… you weren’t just a way out of Boston, you were a way out of… everything. Only for moments at a time, but,  you were. It’s like… I just can’t believe I found you. In the mess of everything, you were there… and I’m just so… grateful, I guess. That’s not the right word… Just… Thank god for you. I kind of think god is dead, after all the… you know, everything, but thank god for you.”

Your words bring tears to his eyes. He allows them to bead in the corners, and you touch them away with your fingertip. “I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you so much, Joel.’

Joel was something without you, but not much. A knife, a gun, a severed brother, a fractured father, a frightened soul staggering around a broken city. With you, he’s carried back to love, and he can feel softness finding its way back into his veins from a heart inlaid with velvet. 

He may not believe in fate, but Joel likes the idea that he was destined to find you, and you him, and he thanks whatever was responsible for granting him the courage that grabbed him the moment it did so that he could finally tell you what you mean to him, because he knows the fearful man in his core couldn’t do it alone. 

Love, bona fide, is a deep pool in his center that never dried up, but was fortified with pieces of his dark desperation, broken down himself into spikes he assembled around it. But now with you, he surrenders, and, bodies held close, he dips with you into the warmth of his pure waters.