#and i have witnessed enough real explosions

[consult-sherlockholmes]

Best night of the year for someone with combat-related PTSD and someone who is hypersensitive to loud noises and flashing lights. I do appreciate the fascinating chemistry and beauty of fireworks, but it's better in moderation than this excess of noise and explosions all night long.

[emthimofnight]

We have heights, we have voices....now we need a run down on the Siblings personality! Then the trilogy will be complete...and then I can (affectionately) release Stellar from my 6 star basement of adorableness.

HAHAHA OKAY!! I will do as you ask for the safe return of my baby girl 🙏

Void

Confident, calculating, and unnerving.

Rarely without a smile on his face.

Has the energy of an apex predator. Unflinchingly comfortable in spite of any danger, having never known what it feels like to be prey.

Strongest out of his siblings and the leader of their little trio.

Manipulative and power hungry.

His creators have no real control over him. They've created a monster.

Views life as a game and himself as the main character. Doesn't recognize other people as actual people, only as pawns for him to play with. If they don't play the game they way he likes, he breaks them.

Taller than both Sonic and Shadow. Doesn't view either of them as parents, only genetic donors.

He sees Shadow in particular as his prototype.

Only acknowledges other people as important if they have great power or something that he recognizes as stand-out.

Has never known defeat nor fear. Both of these things have the power to shatter his world view.

His siblings are afraid of him for good reason.

Who is to say what his sexuality is??? Probably power-sexual. 😂 He would only ever be attracted to someone based off of strength or what they could offer him.

Andromeda

Short-tempered, snide, and bitter.

A gloomy person over all, almost always in a perpetual state of scowling.

The emotional core of the failed experiment trio. Does her best to keep Void and Polarity from killing each other.

Deeply envious of Stellar and her happy relationship with Sonic and Shadow. Wonders why she wasn't found and whisked away to a better life.

Awful self-esteem. Knows she is unhappy with her life in Cosmic Labs, but doesn't see any way out. At least she has a place she belongs if she stays inside the box that was made for her.

Cares for both Void and Polarity, but doubts if Void returns that sentiment. She and Polarity are close, getting along well when they are alone.

Pressured by their creators to get Void to behave. Since they cannot punish him, Andromeda and Polarity are often punished in his stead.

Secretly craves love, affection, and praise. Despite this, she chooses to fight Stellar whenever they encounter one another instead of accepting her offerings of sisterhood.

If she had to pick between Void or Polarity, she'd pick Polarity.

She is a lesbian!

Polarity

Hot-headed, resentful, and explosive.

The weakest of the siblings (including Stellar) and he knows it. Only outdoes them in speed.

Has an extremely tumultuous relationship with Void. He is constantly trying to prove himself to their creators, but is outshone by his elder brother.

Despite this, he trains harder than either of his siblings, and is often covered in bandages from overworking himself.

Takes the most after Sonic despite everything, and is a fun-loving, quick-witted, and gentle person at his core. If isolated and given enough time to open up, he is actually very sweet.

Only ever confides in Andromeda, and cares about her deeply. He will often step in and take punishments in her stead.

A closeted nerd. Has a stash of old comic books that were given to him by a generous lab worker that he has read cover to cover countless times. He could quote any scene from memory.

Often speaks out against Void and his methods. Void has gotten very good a tuning him out on missions.

Lowest chaos energy reading of all Project Stellar experiments, but cannot be beat in willpower and determination. Notable for his inability to ever give up.

Has constant dark circles around his eyes from lack of sleep and stress. Rarely ever rests.

He is bisexual!

Original post with Stellar's failed lab sibs if they had survived:

[medakakurokami]

I finished over 100 visual novels, here’s a long post with some recommendations

Last month I hit 100 Finished VN’s over on the VNDB and I thought I’d shoot out some recommendations while the Steam Summer Sale is going on (even though some of these aren’t going to be on Steam)

I already have finished up some stragglers and caught some shorter titles so it’s up to 104 Finished, but all the better. I have been reading some VN’s since 2015, but it really became a hobby and a genre I was invested in during Covid lockdown in 2020. I had trouble getting into some of the popular titles, but a couple of games that were lesser known at that time really blew me away that year and I started digging more into the medium. I still have a lot to try out and other classics I’m still interested in trying, but here’s a top 10 I’m confident in recommending to most people, at least the kinda people that would follow this blog. A few of these recommendations are actually multi-part series, but hopefully accessible all around.

Planetarian ($10 on Steam and Switch, ~$5 on sale)

This is a very late entry onto this list but I think it’s an easy recommendation. This is a very short 2-4 hour visual novel that got a well received 2 hour movie adaptation in 2016, but it was strong enough that even while knowing the plot everything still hit hard. It is a story set 30 years after an apocalyptic event destroys most of the world, as a human junk-trader comes across a planetarium with a somehow-still-functional robot named Hoshino still performing her daily duties after 30 years without customers or coworkers. It can come across as a bit saccharine, but it is a quick, well made, and effective tearjerker.

Narcissu 1st & 2nd (Free on Steam)

Narcissu’s first two parts are pretty compelling stories to do with suicidal ideation within the scope of the terminally ill. Which is to say they’re also real tear jerkers, and pretty open about some harsh self-reflective emotions. They both have stellar endings, and can be quite immersive despite the very limited artwork (if the screencap looks weird, the game’s art exists within a narrow strip on the screen, with a sentence or two reading out the story underneath it). Maybe the least accessible on this list, but a $0 price tag makes it easier in some sense to get into.

Umineko no Naku Koro ni / When The Seagulls Cry (~$50 on Steam, $30 on sale)

Umineko you’ve probably already heard of, and here’s me recommending it. Umineko comes in two parts, on Steam referred to as the Questions Arc and the Answers Arc. Despite the split, the overall story follows the events of a certain day on Rokkenjima Island in 1986 as a family meets to discuss their inheritance and their family’s mysteries. Unbeknownst to them they are soon haunted, over and over again, by the revenant of the Golden Witch said to live in the woods of their family’s island.

I’m in the minority of preferring the Questions Arc, where well written and deeply human characters find themselves in deeply inhumane and nonsensical scenarios. The Answers Arc back seats some of that to start delving into an esoteric explosion of clues and backstories, and was still very entertaining even if I was more invested in the episodic stories than the overarching mystery. This may also be seen as inaccessible, $30-50 for a slightly older title and over 140 hours long on average playthroughs, but it is deeply absorbing.

Witch on the Holy Night a.k.a. Mahoyo ($40 on PS4 and Switch)

Mahoyo is me and Nasu’s marriage counselor, it really made me see the good in him. It follows a young witch co-habitating with her magic colleague and the puppy-like boy that unwittingly steps into their world at risk to his own life, just as unexplained apparent murders are witnessed in their town.

This could possibly be a higher level recommendation, though it was apparently intended to have sequels and you can somewhat feel that in the isolated feeling of its main conflict. Despite this, the game is definitely worth experiencing for its classy charm and extremely well made action sequences that at times make you forget you’re not watching a full anime film. It’s also a showcase of Nasu’s strengths in writing character interactions and comedy, and he finally lets Show take over and stops Telling you piles of mage society worldbuilding quite so often. It is also has some of the highest quality production value I’ve ever seen, second maybe to...

Marco and the Galaxy Dragon ($20 on Steam/Switch, less than $10 on sale)

Marco and the Galaxy Dragon is an explosive opera of art, energy, color, and of course music. It follows the orphaned Marco and her dragon compatriot Arco as they hunt for treasure across the cosmos, finding their way to Earth on the hunt for Marco’s mother.

If Umineko’s 140 hours seems steep, Marco has you covered with a quick 6 hour rundown of a rebellious orphan fighting back against her space alien menace to find her own sense of place and identity in the universe, along with ALL the friends she made along the way. If Mahoyo feels like an anime film sometimes, Marco actually just has fully animated FMV cutscenes that are fun as hell and have their own unique artstyle to the VN itself. Thousands of pieces of artwork and a 52-track OST fill the game’s short runtime with no cut corners and and overflow of passion from the devs. Honestly even if you don’t want to read it go buy it, it’s cheap and they earned it.

White Album 2 (You’ll have to be creative to find this one)

This is the only recommendation that’s currently only available in an adults only 18+ Rating for the English translation. That being said, it’s one of the few erotic VN’s that felt justified in its pornographic scenes. The story is split into two releases: Opening Chapter and Closing Chapter.

Opening is a short and powerfully delivered love triangle narrative following Haruki, Setsuna, and Touma as their hastily formed 3-man light music band falls into itself with feelings. It’s charming but gut wrenching and sweeps you into its drama very effectively before kicking you on your ass in the end.

Closing Chapter is a long and drawn out disassembling of their lives as they fail to heal from the wounds of the relationships seen in Opening. It, to great effect, takes the readers own experience with how fun and passionate the Opening Chapter was, and shows how trying to cling to halcyon days can make us so dispassionate about our present lives. Painful stuff! Good music, too.

The Princess, The Stray Cat, and Matters of the Heart 1 & 2

a.k.a. Noratoto ($40 on Steam for both, ~$15 for both on sale)

This is a very personal recommendation, and maybe one more easy to make on this blog where many of my followers might be receptive to sincere but slapstick ecchi comedy as art. Every route is highly different however and to me, some are pretty average for galge, while others stand out as amazing. The comedy writing as well feels like it was written by someone with actual comic writing experience, and not just regurgitating the usual ecchi manga jokes.

The general premise of Noratoto is the protagonist Nora, being transformed into a cat by Patricia the princess of the Netherworld, and he must reverse this curse via a kiss before it becomes permanent. A benign fairy tale premise, but one that somehow gives way to underlying stories about existence and finding purpose in families and where that leaves those without families or with abusive or divided families (it is from the same developers as Marco and the Galaxy Dragon, and the themes of finding identity without family match up very closely). Uniquely it is a visual novel written somewhat in 3rd person, narrated by a motherly voice as if the VN was being read to you as a bedtime story.

Like I said, it is dependent on route and some come across as your usual ecchi gal-game schtick, but some stick out, and if every route was as high quality as Nobuchina’s in the 2nd game, it would probably be my favorite visual novel.

The Original Ace Attorney Trilogy ($30 on most platforms, $10 on sale)

You’ve almost certainly heard of Ace Attorney already and have most likely played it. This is me telling any Ace Attorney fans reading that the original trilogy still reigns supreme (regardless of Turnabout Big Top). This is also me telling anyone who has held out on trying Ace Attorney to try it, and to start with the original trilogy.

Obviously this trilogy follows the Meme Man Himself, Phoenix Wright, as he defends the innocent and brings the guilty to justice acting as both lawyer and his own main investigator. While each case presents a unique mystery, the original trilogy has an underlying arc that reaches from beginning to end with a massive conspiracy that Phoenix has to breach to bring justice to the perpetrators and resolve the memory and regrets of his beloved mentor.

These games have some speedbumps as you may be banging your head against the wall trying to find the right evidence, but the experience that breaks through does so with gusto, succeeding on what it sets out to be: games that make you feel like you’ve brought justice to the world.

Utawarerumono Trilogy ($40/60 each on Steam, trilogy bundle $62 on sale)

Utawarerumono was my first proper visual novel, and it set the standards pretty high. I’ve posted about it several times in the last few years, and it remains one of my favorites. It is a labor of love on the part of the developers (the same developers as White Album 2), who developed the latter two games over the course of several years and have made this the spearhead of their company for the time being. Which makes sense, since it is about war.

The first game follows a masked man who is given the name Hakuoro waking up in a rural village with amnesia, confused about the strange population of beast-men living there. Despite not understanding his situation, his ingenuity brings the village prosperity. When the local lords try to put the village under their thumb, Hakuoro and the villagers are able to turn the tides against them. Their village grows into a kingdom as Hakuoro seeks the mysteries of himself and the world around him.

The latter two games pick up some twenty years after the conclusion of the first, and follow a man who is given the name Haku, waking up in the woods with amnesia confused about the... you get it. He is met by Kuon, a young girl on her way traveling to the capital of their nation of Yamato. Haku graciously accepts her help getting out of the cold woods, and decides to join her to the capital. As events play out, Haku finds himself under the direct command of the nation’s leader the Mikado, and carries out missions on his behalf as the nation continues to drag itself into war and conflict and Haku also seeks the truth of his identity.

These games are expansive in scope while still putting a large focus on the day-to-day lives of its characters. Around 100 hours across all three games it is impressive how much story it manages to fit in, but the pacing does bounce around between sweeping conflict and sleepy conversations. It is also in part, a strategy RPG game with the battles in the war being controlled by the player. These are decently made, especially well in the third game, but don’t ask too much of the player and the story remains the main focus and biggest portion of the runtime.

The House In Fata Morgana a.k.a. Fatamoru

($40 complete version on PS4/Switch, ~$40 main game + expansion on Steam)

I’ve gushed about this enough on this tumblr, I’ll keep it brief.

You are a formless soul who is led by the hand of a mysterious maid through the doors of a mansion on an unknown plane of existence. Through each door lies a story of the house in a different era, all following people bound together in ways that leave them cruelly and violently undone by the end of their stories. The connection between these stories, the mystery of the house and the supposed witch that resides within, and the mystery of You the wandering soul all slowly unravel in a bloody show of catharsis and soul. The game is dripping with traumatic poetic text, grating beautiful music, and all of its atmosphere geared toward being oppressive yet enticing. One of the best things I’ve read.

Honorable mentions:

Va-11 Hall-A and Endless Mondays get shout outs as some of the best Original English Language VN’s I’ve read, with cool artstyles and a mature cast they manage to be fun and relatable. Va-11 Hall-A delivers a great arc for its protagonist and Endless Mondays has great dialogue on the threat of automation of creative industries.

Grisaia Trilogy and Hatsumira are both absolutely raucous trilogies that are a lot of fun. Not wholly recommendable to all, Grisaia has some strong moments and a hilarious unique cast but is a mess overall (but we love Michiru). Hatsumira is a bit more consistent, a more stable and fantasy-oriented Grisaia.

A.I. The Somnium Files duology are detective games with highly divisive endings, but great comedy and characters that make them very easy to get through and enjoy the whole way to the end. It’s just a toss-up whether you’ll like that ending.

Sakura Wars games are finally being translated, and they are a great showing for anyone who wants to try some classic dating sim stuff but with some pizazz thrown in with the setting and mecha combat.

The Tears to Tiara duology by the same developers of Utawarerumono and White Album is also one to keep an eye out for. The first game's definitive version isn't available in English and the second game is stuck on the PS3 and no longer available digitally, but if they ever come out on Steam they are worth your time.

Nanairo Reincarnation and Kinkoi: Golden Loveriche are also two solid ecchi comedy galge. Both have surprisingly deep and genuinely heartbreaking underlying mysteries and conclusions.

I still have a lot I wanna read, Planetarian is the only Key novel I’ve read. On the docket are Labyrinth of Galleria, Little Busters, the 9 -nine- series, and Kara no Shoujo and White Album 1 releasing on Steam this year. Some classics I didn’t mention are Fate/Stay Night, Muv Luv, Steins Gate. Muv Luv I read Extra and enjoyed it, but never pulled the trigger on reading the rest, I may at some point on a whim. Steins;Gate I played through half of on PS3 and now my PS3 is in the closet, the VN is really good and has a unique atmosphere to the anime, buuuuuuut knowing the plot has made it hard to want to restart on PC or another console. Steins;Gate is good, if anyone is reading this far and hasn’t seen the anime or read the VN, do it.

[giggly-squiggily]

Putting The Moves On Him (My Hero Academia)

Heyo everyone! Guess who's back with some fluffy Todobaku for your viewing pleasure? This girl! The fabulous @intheticklecloset and I were yelling about Todobaku together as one does,and thus this fic was born! Thank you so much Nym for fangirling about these two with me and inspiring me to make something soft and squishy with them in it! I hope y'all like it :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022 @rachi-roo @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart

Summary: Todoroki's love language is physical touch, so much so just seeing it in his favorite drama's makes him swoon. Bakugou decides to give his boyfriend the real deal.

Bakugou wasn’t oblivious.

Well..okay, maybe SOMETIMES he drank from the carton without checking the expiration date. And sure- occasionally he might fail to see his headphones aren’t connected, leaving everyone to bear witness to whatever playlist he put together that only made sense to himself. Small, meaningless things that might lead to some discomfort, but ending at that. Discomfort.

He always made sure to make note of the important things.

~~~

A small sigh; gentle and breathy. Bakugou tried not to make his interest show as he dared a peek towards his boyfriend. They were in his room; lying across wrinkled sheets on their bellies as they entertained themselves. Todoroki was watching a show on his tablet, headphones in and cheeks flushed. The blonde didn’t have to see the screen to know it was a romance.

He dared a peek, trying for stealth as he watched the two characters on screen interact. They were fighting- but it didn’t seem like anything truly intense. The girl stepped forward in a sudden surge of emotion when it happened.

She was against a wall, the guy pinning her with a hand above her head. She sucked in a breath, as did Todoroki. His chest raised and lowered as if he were the one being pinned.

Bakugou fought off a smile, shaking his head at just how affected his boyfriend was by the scene. Returning to his Switch, he considered the various other moments he got to witness Todoroki swoon over as his Charizard destroyed the champion.

~~~

“Hey, come train with me.”

Todoroki looked up, not surprised by the request. “Right now? Haven’t we done enough these past few days?”

“One more day isn’t gonna kill you. Besides- I haven’t fought you quirkless yet.” Bakugou didn’t wait, turning and heading into the nearest room. He knew Todoroki would follow him.

“You’re as hardworking as ever.” The duel-quirked hero laughed softly, kicking off his shoes and wandering across the mats. “But that’s what I like about you. You’re always so persistent.”

“Tch- shut it.” Bakugou huffed, turning away before Todoroki caught a glimpse of his smile. “Let’s freaking do this! Come at me!”

“Why? You should come at me.”

“Cause I said so.”

“I don’t recognize your authority.”

“You son of a-fine, come here!” Bakugou ran at him, aiming low. Todoroki dodged at the last second, dancing out of reach as the blonde tried to grab onto him.

“Come on- Ol’e Or whatever the bullfighters in movies say!” Todoroki smirked, enjoying how irritated Bakugou looked. He pranced and dodged every grab and swing sent his way, throwing in little jabs here and there to really get the blonde going. “Is this what you can do without your explosives? You need more practice.”

“Ah, you son of a-” Bakugou paused, studying him. Then he calmed- a rare sight in a fight for him. “No, I know what you're doing. And it’s not gonna distract me!”

Todoroki would have asked what that was if the ground suddenly fell out from under him. A hand grasped his shirt while the other nestled the back of his skull. He landed flat on his back, Bakugou looming over him.

Oh…

Oh.

Was his heartbeat loud? Todoroki felt it in his ears, eyes wide and suddenly unable to breathe. His cheeks felt like lava, hot and tingly and dear lord the way Bakugou was looking at him- calm and smug and beyond attractive. He leaned down, and Todoroki involuntarily closed his eyes.

Only to blink when his nose was flicked.

“Gotcha.” Bakugou grinned at him, delighted at Todoroki’s fluster. “I win.” With that, he gave him a quick peck before shooting to his feet, running out the room like a child pulling a prank.

Todoroki laid there, heart racing and ears burning. He covered the stupid grin pulling at his lips with his hands, fighting the urge to make a noise in case Bakugou was still within earshot as he kicked his feet.

~~~

“Good grief- how much whipped cream did you put on that?” The blonde asked one morning, more amused than anything at the tall pile resting against Todoroki’s waffle stack.

“Not enough. It’s good for the brain.” He replied, swiping a finger through the perfect mountain before licking it, closing his eyes. “Sugar or something- ask Midoriya.”

“I’m not asking that nerd shit.” Bakugou rolled his eyes, a fondness in his smile as he watched Todoroki snag another bite. “How did I not know you had a sweet tooth?”

“I don’t- I just really like whipped cream.”

“That’s basically the same thing.”

“No- this is light and airy. Sweets are heavy.”

“How-ah, it’s too early for this.” Bakugou shook his head as he grabbed his water bottle, turning towards the outskirts around the dorm. “I’m going for a run. Be ready when I get back- it’s our turn to get groceries.”

“Hm.” Todoroki had picked up the waffle whole, biting into it as he listened to Bakugou talk. He looked like a squirrel harvesting; cheeks fat and happy. Bakugou tried not to laugh. “Sure, sure, no problem.”

“Good. Hey, hold still.” The blonde reached out, swiping a dollop of cream off his cheek. Without breaking eye contact, he licked his thumb, smirking when Todoroki blushed. “You know- it’s not all that bad.”

He took off, fiddling with his playlist as he disappeared out the door. Todoroki was stock still- staring at the waffle he bit into as he replayed that action over and over in his mind.

“Dude- you got it bad.” Denki mused from beside him, taking the other waffle off his plate. Todoroki didn’t even notice.

~~~

“Hmm..’He looked at her with such…context?’”

“Contempt.”

“I knew that!”

Todoroki smiled at the blonde’s annoyance, his eyes never leaving his notebook. They were working on their English homework together; Present Mic was insistent they kept their studies going even with everything else in the world going on. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Like hell I am.” Bakugou grumbled, glaring at his own notebook. “You can’t even begin to imagine how many tutors had to help me before I could figure this out.”

“I always assumed academics were natural for you.”

“I’m not a genius like people say I am.” There was a touch of insecurity in his sarcastic remark. Todoroki reached out and patted his hand.

“Struggling with one subject doesn’t make you any less smart. You help me with any subjects I barely understand. I mean it when I say that; you’re a natural when it comes to this kind of thing.”

Bakugou flushed, cheeks on fire as he glared into his clenched pencil. Then he reached out- squeezing Todoroki’s shoulder. “Erm..thanks, Shoto.”

The half-n-half hero smiled gently, returning to his notebook.

“I never believed in fate until I met you. Now I know we’re meant to be together.”

Todoroki felt himself shiver, dropping his pencil at the words. “W-What?” He asked, turning around to look at Bakugou.

“What? I was just reading the next question out loud.” Bakugou didn’t look up from his work, hands scratching away at the paper. Todoroki felt his heart race again, trying not to clutch it as he took a shaky breath.

“Yeah..yeah, I see…” He swore he could see Bakugou smiling to himself. Only after he finished the last of the worksheet did he realize none of the translations even came close to that.

~~~

“Shoto.” Bakugou called out to him many weeks later. At this point, Todoroki was ready.

“Yes?” He asked when the blonde reached him. He could see the signs now- little quirks here and there. A suppressed smile, a glean in his eyes. His hands twitched with eagerness to do what he was going to do next. Todoroki’s heart raced with each fidget- also eager.

“I saw this new thing on the internet. Some cool handshake or whatever.” Bakugou raised his hands between them, flat and straight. Todoroki immediately knew what was happening.

“...” He did the same, mimicking the pose as he watched Bakugou smile. Fingers folded into the other one, leaving five digits standing. Todoroki did it with some feign hesitation, slowly dragging them down before looking at Bakugou. “Is this the part where we shake hands?”

Bakugou didn’t respond. Instead he hooked his own into Todoroki’s standing ones, bringing it up and above his head. That hand from before was back on his skull- cushioning the blow as he was pressed up into the wall. Another small gasp, his eyes widened involuntarily as he looked into Bakugou’s.

The blonde was grinning now, leaning in so they were forehead to forehead, his hand dragging slowly from Todoroki’s head to his neck then shoulder. The duel-quirk hero tried not to squirm, fighting off the giggles building up in his chest as the hand rested on his chest- right above his heart.

“Heh. Knew it. You totally love this.” Bakugou’s voice was hushed, a secret between them as he held Todoroki’s gaze. “Your heart is practically sprinting, Shoto.”

“Can you blame me? You’re so close..” He didn’t have the words to banter- his brain was barely working with Bakugou right there. “You really have been doing all this on purpose, have you?”

“Yeah.” No point denying it, it seemed. “Has it been working?”

“...Yeah.” Todoroki confessed. No point denying it himself either. “It has.”

“Good.” Bakugou laughed softly, letting the hand on Todoroki’s chest slide. He was about to take it off before deciding he had one more trick up his lack of sleeve.

“What-Ah! Ahehahahahah, dohohoohn’t you dahahahhare!” Todoroki squeaked, bursting into giggles when Bakugou began squeezing his side. “Nohohohooho, it tihihihiihckles!”

“That’s the point, Shoto. Man, you really gotta keep up with me, here.” Bakugou snickered as he leaned in to kiss him, smothering his giggle fits briefly.

Voices could be heard then. Uraraka and Midoriya- something about moves and whatnot. Todoroki felt his stomach churn with sudden dread. “Katsu-”

The door he was leaning on opened, sending them tumbling back. A few moves- a hand back on his head and a kick to wood sent them straight into Todoroki’s room, concealed away before anyone could witness.

“What was that?” They heard Midoriya ask.

“Maybe a ghost? Scary..” Uraraka added, their footsteps passing by with no stop. Bakugou waited, still as a statue until they couldn’t hear them any longer. “Wow- talk about a close call.” He turned back to Todoroki, bringing his hand out from behind his head and brushing his thumb against his cheek. “You good?”

All of it was such a daze. Between the wall pin, the kiss, the almost getting caught- and now he was once again pinned to the floor beneath his boyfriend, breathless and light. When Bakugou asked again, he reached up and kissed him, hard and fast.

“Mm!” The blonde yelped before melting, grabbing onto his shirt as he quickly returned the favor. “Damn, I should do this more often.”

“Mm…wait- wait, Katsuki.” At Todoroki’s words, he froze immediately, giving him enough space to speak. “Can I ask you something?”

“Right now? I mean- yeah.” The blonde nodded, brows furrowed. “What’s up?”

“Why…why did you do all this? The wall thing, the quotes- all that romantic stuff?” He had a feeling he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from his boyfriend's lips. “How did you know I’d…”

Bakugou blinked, considering. Then he grinned, laughing as he fell into Todoroki’s chest. “You’re so duhuhmb! Isn’t it obvious?” He looked at him, eyes dancing with such love it once again snatched his breath away. Damn- he was gonna need new lungs. “It’s because you love this kind of thing. You’re like- physically affectionate or whatever the love thingy is.”

“Love languages. But- you don’t like this kind of stuff though, no?” The blonde was never much for physical contact- griping and groaning over it whenever someone tried to hug him. “So why..?”

Bakugou sighed, the sound amused. “It’s not my preferred love thing, but…you love it. And I guess I don’t really mind getting physical-” He paused, wagging his brows. Todorki rolled his eyes with a laugh. “No but seriously- I know how much you love this kind of thing, and I want to give you the kind of love you deserve. And- mind you, I’m not against physical touch- obviously.” He gestured to their positions. “This isn’t my thing, that’s all. I’ll gladly give it to you-” Another pause- Todorki shoved at his shoulder. “Hehe, okay okay. I just know you well enough to make you happy.”

Todoroki felt his heart swell, eyes misting some at the words. Before Bakugou could panic, the half-n-half hero reached out, touching his cheek with a strong smile.

“I don’t think I tell you this enough- but I love you, so much.”

Bakugou’s cheeks flushed, eyes wide and smile growing. He leaned into Todoroki’s hand with a small laugh, puddy at his fingers. “Now we’re really recreating your romances.”

Todoroki laughed, pulling him close and kissing him once more, resuming their previous activity. Every kiss reminded him just how lucky he was to have someone like Bakugou in his life.

Thanks for reading!

[dovesdreaming]

Hi dove! Recently followed u so hihi. I saw u wanted more Deadpool requests so here is one: enemies to lovers with Deadpool. Maybe like they bicker a lot but actually care for one another. 🖤♥️

Love and bullets

Hi!! Welcome to my blog- I loved this request!!! It was so fun to write I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: mentions of guns/bullets

-

You always knew when Deadpool was about to make an entrance. It wasn’t just the sound of gunfire or the occasional explosion- it was the running commentary that accompanied it, full of sarcasm and innuendo, loud enough to hear over anything. That, and the trail of destruction he usually left in his wake. “Hey, sweetheart! Miss me?” His voice rang out, filled with that trademark mix of cockiness and glee that never failed to get under your skin. You rolled your eyes, barely pausing as you took down another thug in the dark, grimy alley. “Not even a little, wade”. Deadpool landed beside you with a flourish, his red and black suit practically gleaming despite the darkness. “Ouch, right in the heart. Lucky for me, I have regeneration powers”. “Yeah, lucky you” you muttered, sheathing your weapon and surveying the area. The mission was almost done, all that was left was cleaning up the stragglers.

“You know” he continued, leaning casually against a dumpster, “you really need to work on your gratitude. I just saved your pretty little butt back there”. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the guy I was about to take down before you swooped in and stole my kill?”. “Tomato, tomahto” He waved his hand dismissively. “Besides, we make a good team. You with your ‘I’m so serious and focused’ routine, and me with my devilish charm and razor-sharp wit. We’re like peanut butter and jam”. “I hate peanut butter” you deadpanned.

“Lies!” he gasped, clutching his chest in mock horror. “How could you say such a thing? Peanut butter is a gift from the snack gods!”. You couldn’t help but crack a smile, even though you tried to hide it. Being around Wade was like this—infuriating, exhausting, and yet somehow, undeniably entertaining. As much as he drove you crazy, you couldn’t deny that you looked forward to these moments, the banter, the back-and-forth that seemed to come so naturally between you.

“Come on” you said, trying to get back on track. “We’ve got one more target to take out before we can call it a night”. Deadpool’s eyes sparkled mischievously behind his mask. “Is it a makeout session? Because I’ve been dying to know what you look like under that stoic exterior. I bet you’re a real softie deep down”. You shot him a withering glare. “In your dreams, Wilson”. “Every single night, babe” he quipped with a wink.

Shaking your head, you turned to leave, but Wade fell into step beside you. The night was quiet now, the earlier chaos fading into the background as you moved through the city, side by side. Despite the constant bickering, there was a strange sort of comfort in Wade’s presence. As much as you hated to admit it, he had saved your life more times than you could count, and you’d done the same for him. There was an unspoken trust between you, forged in the heat of battle, even if you didn’t always see eye to eye.

“So, where’s this last target of ours?” Wade asked, twirling a knife between his fingers as if it were a toy. “Up ahead” you replied, nodding toward an abandoned warehouse at the end of the street. “Intel says he’s holed up inside. Shouldn’t be too hard to take him out”. Wade grinned. “Sounds like my kind of party”. As you approached the warehouse, the tension between you shifted. The banter fell away, replaced by a shared focus on the task at hand. This was another thing you appreciated about Wade, when it came down to it, he knew how to get the job done, and he was damn good at it.

You moved through the building like shadows, your movements silent and precise. The target was exactly where you expected him to be, surrounded by a few lackeys who were no match for the two of you. Within minutes, the job was done, the target neutralized. As the last body hit the floor, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “That’s it. Mission accomplished”. “Piece of cake” Wade said, wiping the blood from his blade before sheathing it. “You know, we really should do this more often. It’s like couple’s therapy, but with more explosions”.

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible”. “And you love it” he shot back, that playful grin never leaving his face. You were about to respond when you felt a sharp sting in your side. Looking down, you saw blood beginning to soak through your suit. One of the lackeys must have gotten a lucky shot in before going down. “Shit” you muttered, pressing a hand to the wound. Wade’s demeanor changed in an instant. He was at your side before you could blink, his usual flippant attitude replaced with something much more serious. “Hey, hey, hold on there. Let me see”. “It’s just a scratch” you tried to say, but the pain was real, and you were starting to feel lightheaded. “Just a scratch, my ass” Wade grumbled, carefully inspecting the wound. “You need to patch this up, now”.

He helped you over to a relatively clean spot on the floor, his touch surprisingly gentle as he supported you. For all his jokes and bravado, there was a tenderness in his actions that took you by surprise. “You’re going to be fine” he said, more to himself than to you as he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a first-aid kit. “You’re not dying on me, not today”. You watched him work, his focus entirely on you as he cleaned and dressed the wound with practiced efficiency. It wasn’t the first time he’d patched you up, but there was something different about this moment. The way he was so quiet, so careful it made your heart do an unexpected flip. “Wade…” you began, not really sure what you wanted to say.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and for once, there was no trace of humor in them. “Yeah?”. “Why do you always act like you don’t care?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, surprising even yourself. Wade paused, his hands stilling as he considered your question. For a moment, you thought he might deflect, make a joke to avoid answering, but then he sighed, his shoulders slumping just a bit. “Because it’s easier” he admitted quietly. “It’s easier to be the funny guy, the one who doesn’t take anything seriously. That way, no one expects anything from me. No one gets too close”. You frowned, trying to understand. “But… I thought you liked it when people got close”. He gave a small, almost sad smile. “Depends on the person”.

There was a beat of silence, and in that moment, everything seemed to shift between you. The constant bickering, the teasing, the way you always seemed to get under each other’s skin, it was all starting to make sense now. There was something deeper there, something you had both been avoiding for a long time. “You’re not going to lose me wade” you said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. “I’m not going anywhere”.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, and for once, you saw the vulnerability that he usually kept hidden behind his mask of humor and bravado. “You say that now, but… I don’t know if I can trust it. Trust us”.“You can” you insisted, squeezing his hand. “We’ve been through too much together for this to be nothing”.

Wade’s eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the walls he’d built around himself start to crumble. “I care about you, Y/N. More than I probably should”. The admission hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. You felt your heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the blood loss. “I care about you too” you whispered, barely able to believe you were saying the words out loud. Wade’s expression softened further, and he leaned in closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he searched your eyes for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender for someone as chaotic as Deadpool.

The kiss was slow, sweet, and when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. “So” Wade said after a moment, his voice a little shaky but still holding that familiar teasing edge, “does this mean we’re officially a thing? Because I’ve got a lot of bad habits you’re going to have to put up with”. You laughed softly, leaning into him. “Yeah, I think we are. And trust me, I’m more than up for the challenge”. He grinned, that mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Good, because I’m a lot of work, babe. But I think you might be worth it”.

[idkfitememate]

Idk if it's obvious or not but I love the boar!creator so much! Could you possibly do one where they spend time with klee going fish blasting (fish blasting™ is not jean approved) and they run into razor? I really want to see what razor thinks of fish blasting :D then maybe we could get a little more andrius content? Ahh this is just such a cool concept!

Fish Blasting With Friends

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader x Klee & Razor

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 542

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff & Crack

Being surrounded on all sides by wolves was an amazing feeling.

The warmth, the fuzziness, the feeling of Razor’s hands running up and down your spine. Knowing Andrius was just a snort away.~

Yes life was good.

…

…

…

*BOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM*

…Uh oh.

Klee.

You jumped up, making Razor flinch. You immediately apologized with a small huff to his face, which made him giggle. You tried to get out of the pile, only to be picked up by a certain blue wolf. You allowed yourself to be carried like a cub by the wind spirit. You also noted that Razor had climbed on Andrius’s back.

Now you’d have to witnesses. Neato.

As the three of you wondered out of the Wolvendom, you immediately found the child solider at a nearby pound. Blowing it sky fucking high.

You struggled out of the larger’s maw and ran towards the child, snorting the whole way. She must’ve heard your steps because she turned around immediately and gasped.

“Boar-boar! Razor! Mr. Andrius!” She said with the cutest smile agh your heart-

You ran up and nuzzled against her and she hugged you back. Andrius bounded over and let Razor off his back. Noticing this you rush back, grab his pants, and pull him towards the lake, Andrius chuckling.

“Would you like to fish blast with me!” Klee asked, Razor looked confused and you urged her to continue.

“Oh! Fish blasting is when we blast fish! Like this!” She summoned a bomb and threw it into the pound, the water bursting towards the sky was the explosive beneath the surface exploded.

Razor watched as fish flew through the air, some landing on the ground and some landed back in the water. He glanced at you and you looked… well you looked more than happy to be here.

He nodded and Klee bounced in joy, stepping aside so he could take his turn. Summoning his blade, he slung the weapon into the water after charging in, causing the pond to erupt into a brilliant purple.

Both you and Klee awed at the sight, and cater it was done Klee ran and jumped up to give Razor a hug, completing him over and over for his skill.

And now it was your turn.

You back up, before running up and jumping into the pool. The duo looked into the water…

Before it exploded upwards in a supercharged explosion! Fire and electricity danced with each other in the air and the smell of singed fish filled their noses.

Soon enough - after the water fell back into the pound - you crawled out, your fur drenched and you wagging your tail at the accomplishment.

“WOW!!! THAT WAS SO SUPER DUPER AMAZING BOAR-BOAR!!” Klee cried. She ran to you and hugged you hard.

“…That was… cool..” Razor said. He was still a bit start struck from the display, but he was able to bring himself to running a hand through your fur.

You looked for Andrius to see if he’d give you a compliment… only to see him eating the singed fish. You both made eye contact.

And you burst out into snort laughter. Rolling in your side, Klee and a Razor also began to laugh.

Today, was a good day.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Mmm fish blasting with Klee. I wanna do that so bad- MMMM WHY CANT KLEE BE REAL

૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა♡-

[ysmtttty]

Red Ferrari

Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car. AO3 link Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Azriel loved his workshop. Since childhood, he enjoyed working with cars, fixing them, and tinkering with mechanisms and spare parts. Well, it turned out that just one client was enough to make him question his decades-long love. One very arrogant client with a sharp tongue who managed to get on Azriel's nerves in record time with his arrogant behavior and stupid comments.

Eris fucking Vanserra, damn it. One of the most influential lawyers in the city, if not the whole country, showed up in his workshop. Specifically for him. Azriel thought about passing this jerk off to Cassian, but that would be reckless—Cassian might have skillful hands, but his temper was terrible, and combined with Eris's bitchy behavior, it would be an explosive mix.

On any other day, Azriel would have handed Eris over to Rhysand, who would both take a proper look at the car and handle the matter diplomatically. But no, the great owner of the workshop had other plans. Specifically, to show up at his childhood friend's wedding with a new Toyota and his fiancée, whom Rhysand had been pining for about half a year.

Well, now Azriel was alone.

And it turned out that he was recommended to Eris by some acquaintance Azriel had helped with a car in record time—and now Eris had the same high expectations. So now, he definitely couldn't get rid of him.

Eris was lazily inspecting the workshop, as if he already owned the place, tossing the keys to his red Ferrari impatiently. Azriel sighed mentally, examining the car and trying to figure out what exactly was wrong. He caught Eris's gaze, full of undisguised disgust at the sight of him smeared with engine oil. Well, His Highness could endure the sight of a working man who didn't have a family trust fund and a huge family business empire behind him; he wouldn't die. But that gaze...

I can't hit clients, Azriel mentally reminded himself as he raised his head and met Eris's gaze. The bastard had the nerve to frown and wrinkle his nose as if he had just witnessed someone taking a dump, not inspecting his precious car.

"How long will the repair take?" he asked impatiently. Azriel thought about giving a time three times longer than the real one just to keep the bastard on edge. However, he was a mechanic, not a complete asshole. The real rip-off would begin when they discussed the price of the repair.

"Around two days," Azriel replied, which wasn't far from the truth. If he worked at his own pace, considering he had a full garage of other cars needing his attention, he was even doing a favor by naming such a short time frame.

Eris looked at him as if he were an idiot, or maybe that was his usual look at any human being.

"Two days?" he asked in disbelief. "Can't you speed up the process?"

Azriel shrugged, not particularly wanting to accommodate him, but he mentally scolded himself and reminded himself that Eris was still a client, and serving him was part of Azriel's duties.

"Even if I worked only on your car, which is unlikely with the number of other orders, I would only manage by tomorrow afternoon. At best," Azriel explained in a calm voice. As calm as he could be after his client had been looking at him like a piece of shit for the past twenty minutes. "Plus, it would mean an extra charge for urgency."

The last phrase, although it was pure truth, brought him strange satisfaction. Although it was more than likely that Eris would pay any amount just to get what he wanted right away.

"I have a meeting on the other side of the city in less than an hour. I need my car about…" Eris glanced at his watch, of course, a Rolex, "…now."

"I can only suggest where to order a taxi from," Azriel shrugged, adjusting the strap of his overalls. "Or you can take my car."

He pointed in the direction of his old wreck, more as a joke, but noticed the gears turning in Eris's head, calculating how bad an idea it would be to agree. He wasn't that desperate to ruin his reputation by getting into that piece of junk daring to call itself a car, but it was still better than ordering an Uber, which only God knew when would arrive. Ordering a taxi to this part of town was a dead end, as the waiting time ranged from fifteen minutes to forty, depending on luck.

"I need to get to this meeting as soon as possible, so okay," he grumbled after a few seconds, extending his hand and expecting to get the keys.

Azriel looked at him in disbelief. He had just given away his car, his beloved baby, to some rich jerk. May the Car God forgive him, for this was a sin. However, he still handed over the keys.

"Be careful, it's a manual, don't crash," he added. Eris just snorted irritably.

"I know how to drive a manual," he replied, rolling his eyes, grabbing the keys, and heading to the car. Before that, he ostentatiously pulled out one of his glossy business cards and shoved it into Azriel's overall pocket. "Call me when you’re done, we'll arrange where and when to exchange cars."

With these words, he got into Azriel's car and drove off. Azriel stared for a few seconds in the direction the car had disappeared, mentally praying that this idiot wouldn't crash his car or get into an accident.

"Is that a Ferrari?" came Cassian's deep, sleepy voice, looking like he had fallen asleep under a car he was fixing.

"The very one," Azriel nodded, answering quietly.

"And the owner drove off in your Volvo?" Cassian laughed, clearly not believing his eyes. Azriel rolled his eyes, not very happy with the situation. And the damn business card. Of course, black with fancy golden letters.

"Yes," he nodded again. "He drove off in my car for some super important meeting. Probably late for his yoga or therapy session. I don't even know what's worse."

Cassian laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Bad day?"

"Very," Azriel snorted, grabbing his tools and starting to work on the masterpiece called a Ferrari.

Cassian went back to his garage work, probably coming up with serenades to sing under the windows of his new love, Nesta Archeron, who would likely try to kill Cassian with his own guitar for daring to disturb her sleep or precious reading time.

Meanwhile, Azriel was tinkering with Eris's car. Not the most exciting process, but a Ferrari in their workshop was indeed a rarity, making him involuntarily admire the car.

*          *          *

Azriel finished working on Eris's car much earlier than he had thought. By the end of the same day, to be precise. He didn't inform Eris about it, as the jerk had been rude enough not to deserve it, and Azriel was too tired to tolerate that smug, arrogant look again today. So, he simply went with Cassian to Rhysand's place.

When they crashed at their friend’s house, Cassian immediately went to the door leading to the basement, looking for another expensive bottle of wine from Rhysand's precious collection. Azriel settled on the couch, thinking he should probably warn Rhysand that they had arrived.

It had become a norm for the three of them to drop by each other's homes uninvited—they all had keys to each other's places. Personal space was a foreign concept to them.

Suddenly, he heard voices, one of which was a loud, indignant female voice.

“So, you’re refusing to help me?” Azriel immediately recognized the voice. Not the most pleasant one, not the most desired one, to be honest.

It belonged to Mor, a distant relative of Rhysand, who for some reason considered herself part of his family after everything that had happened between her and Azriel. A long story. A long, unpleasant, messy story that almost broke a decade-long friendship. Rhysand tolerated her because a) Mor was his only living relative, and b) it was Azriel's guess, but it seemed Rhysand just enjoyed being involved in drama, and Mor was the embodiment of drama.

“I’m not refusing to help,” Rhysand's voice became more distinct as he and Mor emerged from his office. Azriel remained unnoticed, and honestly, he preferred to avoid a confrontation with Mor. “I’m just advising you to hold off on drastic actions. You’re taking a risk without knowing if it will pay off.”

Azriel could have eavesdropped on their conversation further, or later directly asked Rhysand what mess his dear cousin had gotten into this time, but for some reason, he didn't care. He didn't care about anything related to Mor and her problems. To hell with her, honestly. As long as it wasn’t some deadly disease (because Azriel wasn’t a heartless bastard), he didn’t give a damn. He had managed perfectly well for the last few years without a single piece of news about her and her life, and he would continue to manage just as well.

Instead, he opened his phone, replying to a few messages from clients and potential clients. Some inquired about the completion times, others about the price, and still others about something else. Azriel responded to a few messages when Cassian appeared with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Did you see Mor?” he said, putting all his goodies on the coffee table. Azriel shrugged indifferently. “Haven’t seen her in years. You wouldn’t believe what happened!”

Azriel gestured for him to stop, feeling no curiosity about where Mor had spent the last four years of her life. Even if it was in a Moroccan prison, he couldn’t care less.

“Here are my employees of the month,” Rhysand said as he entered the room. A light smile on his face, in a good mood even after talking with Mor… damn, he was having a good day, and for some reason, Azriel was sure it was related to a particular Archeron sister.

“How was the wedding?” Azriel asked. Rhysand shrugged, clearly suppressing a grin.

“It didn’t happen. To my great regret,” he said with no regret in his tone. “You have no idea what a responsibility it is to drive home a bride who changed her mind.”

Cassian chuckled, opening the bottle of wine and pouring it into the glasses. Azriel just shook his head, realizing there was a long story behind this that Rhysand would tell them.

The next morning, Azriel decided to take pity on Eris and texted him that the car was ready and he could pick it up. Eris read the message almost immediately but only replied two hours later. With one word.

“Ok.”

A few minutes later, Eris condescended to add that he was very busy and would be free after nine in the evening. Without asking if this time was convenient for Azriel, he wrote that he would send the address later and went offline.

Azriel thought that overall, ten years in prison for murder would be worth it.

He spent a few more minutes seething with anger at Vanserra for treating him like some kind of call boy who could be summoned at any time to fulfill any order. Exaggeration? Yes. But Azriel didn’t care that he was exaggerating. And, as luck would have it, Cassian wasn't on shift to complain about the Ferrari owner's awful behavior.

Instead, Amren at the receptionist's desk suffered, who, for some unknown reason, agreed to work there, even though neither Rhysand nor she liked it. Nevertheless, she continued to sit in her chair at the desk, occasionally bothering to bill clients or keep track of the budget and other things.

Azriel spent a good twenty minutes complaining to her about what an asshole Eris was, vividly describing his arrogant attitude and overall asshole behavior. Amren, in her honorable sixty-two years, pretended not to hear half of his words, complaining about old age hearing, and poured herself some liqueur into her tea. Azriel didn’t comment on it, knowing it would only make things worse for himself, and returned to work.

The world didn’t revolve around Eris Vanserra; he had many other cars needing repairs. Azriel spent the whole day in blissful silence, dealing with less pretentious cars than a Ferrari, enjoying the lack of socialization.

Nevertheless, after nine in the evening, he received a message from His Highness. Eris sent the address, adding a haughty “hurry up,” and nothing more. No thank you, no please. Azriel clenched his phone in his hand until his knuckles turned white, then forced himself to exhale. Taking a few more deep breaths, he forced himself to remain calm and found the Ferrari keys in his overalls pocket.

A good bonus – for exactly twenty minutes he had access to a chic car. Azriel got into the Ferrari, started the engine, and turned on the navigation system with the destination address Eris had sent. He ran his hand over the smooth leather steering wheel and felt the sharp contrast – bottomless abyss – between his world and that of people like Eris more acutely than ever.

The bottomless abyss that could hardly ever be crossed in a lawful manner. For just a second, a fleeting moment, Azriel wondered what it would have been like if he had stayed at his father's house. But he quickly pushes that thought away, cursing himself for even daring to think such a thing. It was better to repair cars for peanuts for the rest of his life than to endure what he went through in his own home. And they made enough money at the workshop. He might not be driving a Ferrari, but he wasn't destitute either.

The car itself was just superb, and for a second, Azriel felt sorry that such a luxurious ride belonged to a jerk like Eris. He suppressed the urge to speed or break traffic rules so that Eris would get fined because the traffic police were still around, and it would be long and hard to explain to the cops why a mechanic had a Ferrari.

In the end, he arrived at the location. Eris was already there, leaning against his car, lazily talking to someone on the phone, with the same attitude he had towards Azriel. Unable to think of anything better, Azriel, without slowing down, turned the steering wheel and stopped the car exactly one step away from Eris, covering his shoes with dust from the wheels.

Eris raised his gaze, frowning, but within a second, the corners of his lips twisted into a smirk. Azriel mirrored the smirk as he got out of the car, tossing the keys in the air, which Eris caught deftly, doing the same with the Volvo keys.

Azriel’s brain treacherously threw up the thought that Eris was handsome. Yes, handsome, but definitely out of his league. Absolutely out of his league. Moreover, this was Eris Vanserra—a snobbish and arrogant bastard with whom Azriel had no desire to deal. Not business-wise (he hoped Eris never brought his Ferrari again) and certainly not personally.

“Will the transfer suffice?” Eris asked, one hand in the pocket of a coat that looked like it cost more than the entire workshop where Azriel worked, the other holding the phone.

“It will suffice.”

Azriel named the price. He thought about it for a long time yesterday and consulted with Cassian, who only urged him to jack up the price as much as possible. They discussed it together, adding and subtracting the price. In the end, the original price tripled. But Eris, with his arrogant manner, looked like he couldn't care less about the money and would pay any amount named.

Eris looked at him for a few seconds, and Azriel started to regret how much he exaggerated the repair cost. However, instead of calling him out on it, Eris tilted his head to the side and said, “You look different in clean clothes,” sounding like a damn mockery.

“And you’ll be a bastard in any clothes,” Azriel shrugged, not wanting to play nice anymore when Vanserra allowed himself such things.

For a moment, Eris’s eyes widened, as if he was ready to say something, but then he reconsidered and smirked, lowering his gaze to his phone to make the transfer.

“You have no idea how popular that opinion is,” he chuckled, getting into his car. Azriel heared the notification sound from his phone as Eris drove away.

Sitting in his car and spending another five minutes adjusting the seat to its usual normal position, damn Vanserra, Azriel decided to check his phone. Several messages from Cassian with exclamations about how Nesta chased him off the staircase of her apartment with a broom. That this time she didn’t threaten to bury him alive in the woods, so it’s really a sign of growing affection. And that this time the Ice Queen actually accepted a bouquet of flowers.

Azriel chuckled at all these messages, vividly describing his best friend's romantic escapades. Then a message from Rhysand asking him to cover his shift tomorrow because he’s once again leaving due to personal circumstances. And you don’t need to be a genius to figure out who exactly was this personal circumstance.

And finally, the persistent notification about the transfer from Eris.

Damn it.

Bastard.

“What the…” Azriel closed his eyes, hoping that it was just sleep deprivation affecting his vision. That the numbers were just blurred before his eyes. But when he opened his eyes and looked at the amount again, the number was still three times more than stated.

Eris Vanserra can shove this handout up his ass or literally wipe himself with that banknotes, but Azriel didn’t need it. Definitely not from this bastard. Definitely not with his dismissive and haughty manner.

However, for the next 24 hours, all attempts to send part of the amount back failed. Eris had closed the transfers. Azriel called him for the third time, which was three times more than his pride would allow on any other day. However, another part of his brain still screamed that he didn’t need this money, ignoring Cassian's words that any normal person would have long since accepted the money.

Any other person. But not Azriel, because with his stubbornness like a mule, he was not going to give up so easily.

Without responding to any message or call, Eris showed up at the workshop again. This time in a Porsche.

“What happened to the Ferrari?” Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow. Eris shrugged, getting out of the car.

“I think this one might need a checkup.”

“So, the last money transfer was an advance?”

“What advance?” Eris smirked, clearly understanding everything.

Azriel stared him down, trying to figure out what Vanserra was up to. And the Porsche? The car was clearly the latest model, just off the showroom floor. So unless Eris was paranoid or a control freak, the car didn’t need a checkup at all.

“Seriously, what’s all this about?” Azriel asked directly. “Why transfer so much?”

Eris raised his eyebrows in a comical manner, in mock surprise by what it was about.

“So it’s about the money?” he asked. “Then you should have thought about that before you charged me three times the price.”

Azriel freezes. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eris really knew about the markup. And Eris was a damn lawyer. A good lawyer. The best lawyer. If he wanted, he could shut down this workshop in an instant for fraud, and it would be Azriel’s fault.

Instead of threats, Eris just smirked, satisfied with his reaction.

“What do you want?” Azriel asked, frowning, his voice quieter, more hoarse.

Eris tilted his head to the side and remained silent for a few seconds as if studying him. Azriel involuntarily did the same, cursing himself for noticing the sprinkling of freckles on Eris’s face.

“Go on a date with me,” Eris said, completely throwing Azriel off balance. Did he really say that? tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos a/n: lmk if you're interested in this series; want to be added to a taglist; any recommendations to post's design because I never posted fanfics here and don't know much about features

[afrowrites]

~What A Difference a Day Makes~

High noon, blistering heat scattered across the wastelands. Rolling waves of heat come off of the scared man. His weathered coat and hat absorbs the warmth of the sun. But a man like him doesn’t mind it. He clings to its warmth like he clings to radiation it’s familiar and after 200 years of life that’s the first thing that gets him going. As he traverses the weathered ground and picks from the weathered weeds he’s home and home is wherever he lays his hat. And today his hat lands right at your home.

Word Count: 3,102

Warnings: Hostages, Explosions.

Tags: The Ghoul/Black Plus-Sized Reader, Fluff, Domesticity, Banter, Slowburn(Kind of, not really)

Read on Ao3

The Ghoul enters an old dilapidated town,“Well, well, what do we have here?” 

 He trips and before he can figure out what it is that he tripped on he hears music, a song from the past. “What a difference a day makes”  

The Ghoul pauses for a moment, letting the song wash over him. He hums softly to himself before his features fall back into the familiar sardonic smirk. “Well, ain't that just a day late and a dollar short.”

Suddenly the record stops then it rewinds, a haunting and demonic sound ringing through the speakers from that turntable. It explodes and sends him hurling towards some old rickety building. 

He slowly gets back up, rubbing the back of his head. His expression changes from amusement to annoyance. “Well, ain't that just a real humdinger. What's a ghoul gotta do to get some peace and quiet around here?”

He suddenly feels the barrel of a gun at the back of his head "Now I don't know who you are and what your doing here but you have about three seconds before I blow your head to smithereens"

He turned slowly to see a beautiful brown figure, she had luscious full lips that were twisted in a scowl, a sharp stare that could cut glass, and a body that would make any man fall to his knees. Which is what our cowboy wants to do so bad but he also doesn’t want to get shot. 

“Well, ain't you a proper little ray of sunshine, darlin'? If you want to know who I am, just call me The Ghoul. As for what I'm doing here, well, sometimes a fella jus' needs a little excitement, know what I mean?”

"And what pray tell would that be?" you looked at him, gun nudging his forehead.

“What do I want? How ‘bout a damn drink and a decent meal. Maybe even a little bit of friendly conversation that doesn't involve pointing a gun at my head?” The Ghoul's tone is cool and calm, unruffled by the threat of violence.

You take his bag from him and motion him to hand over his weapons, after all your modified grenade launcher is much scarier then some dinky pistols, after collecting the items you bind his hands with rope tightly and make you decent to your base of operations. 

"Alright if food and good company is what you seek then I guess you can follow me, but don't think you can escape or I'll make sure you face my music."

All while you're talking he for some reason can’t stop staring at your lips, The Ghoul raises an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a wry smile. 

“Well, looks like I'm just a damn dog on a leash now. But, if that's what it takes for a little vittles and banter, I guess I can't complain. Lead the way, darlin'. I'll try not to bite.”  He shows you a grinning smile. 

It takes half a day's journey to get to a dilapidated house on the outskirts of the shady sands. We walk in and it smells of mildew and dust.

 "Welcome to my abode, rough skin." I tie him securely to a sturdy post of the house. He has enough room to sit at the dinner table without causing too much of a fuss.

The Ghoul glances around the dilapidated house, taking in the dusty surroundings. He doesn't hide his surprise, but masks his discomfort with sardonic wit. 

“Well, ain't this just the picture of comfort and luxury. Mildewed walls, a chair that's seen better days, and the distinct smell of desperation. It's like a damn holiday.”

"I'm sorry this house is 250 years old and has survived two nukes safe to say I think I'm doing just fine, besides it's not like you know any better.” 

The Ghoul laughs, a raspy, guttural sound. 

“Two nukes, you say? Well, now we're talkin'. But hey, maybe I just prefer the finer things in life, like a decent roof over my head and a bed that doesn't squeak louder than a dying Radstag. But who am I to complain? After all, I'm sittin' at the table of a bonafide wasteland celebrity. And the company ain't half bad, either.”

"You're funny, what's your name?" I squint and I lean in closer to his face.

The Ghoul gives a crooked grin, revealing yellowed, pointed teeth. “They call me The Ghoul, sweetcheeks. But you can call me whatever you damn well please. Just don't expect me to be all sunshine and butterflies every damn minute.”

“You idiot I already knew that,” You chuckle and hit his arm playfully, “But you do look awfully familiar, I can't quite put my nose to it but I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough"

The Ghoul's lip curls into a smirk as he leans in close. “Well, darlin' if you recognize this old mug of mine, then you must be one hell of a fan, considering how much more handsome I used to be.”

He takes a moment to relish in this compliment before his sarcasm returns. “Now, are we gonna talk about my good looks all night, or are ya gonna get a fella somethin' to eat?”

"pushy, much" I rummage through my cabinets to open my secret stash of food behind my fake out cabinets 

"Alright I have some cram and mac'n cheese and drum roll please"

The Ghoul's eyes light up at the sight of the canned meals, He quickly returns to his usual sarcasm. 

“Well, hot damn! Look at you, pullin’ out the good stuff. I reckon I’ll take a bowl of that there “mac and cheese” you mentioned. Gotta tell you, darlin’, nothing says fine dining like canned crap.”

"You didn't even let me tell you what was for dessert, hmph." In your pouty frustration, he finds it endearing which is awfully close as he remembers that one you have him tied up in your hide-away, and two he barely even knows who you are. 

The Ghoul chuckles, enjoying this brief interaction with someone who isn't actively trying to kill him. 

“Desert, you say? Well, now you have my full attention. Let's hear it, darlin'. What's the sweet treat you're hiding in that stash of yours?”  

"Fancy lads snack cakes, they are actually good which worries me because that means they put all sorts of chemical crap in here. But beggars can't be choosers can they?"

The Ghoul's eyes light up again, and he almost seems enthusiastic. 

“Well, now we're talkin'! Fancy lads snack cakes, huh? Sounds like a piece of pre-war heaven. Hell, I've tasted dog food that was better than some of the slop I've come across in the Wasteland. But, you're right, darlin'. When you're out here scavenging for scraps, you gotta take what you can get.”

"I'll heat this stuff up then." You turn away blushing,and you honestly don’t know why?

The Ghoul gives you a sly smile, noticing your flushed cheeks, and nervous nature. 

“Well, ain't that a sight for sore eyes. Here I am, tied to a chair and at your mercy, and you're the one gettin' all flustered. Careful now, darlin'. If you keep givin' me these heated stares, a fella might start getting some ideas.”

"Now what kind of girl do you take me for?" You raise my brow and smirk.

The Ghoul's eyes twinkle mischievously as he looks you up and down. 

“Well, darlin', let's see. You're a proper little badass, ain't ya? Tying me up, feedin’ me grub, givin’ me the eye. I reckon you're the kind of girl who knows how to hold her own in this here Wasteland, and if provoked, could knock a fella flat on his ass with just the force of your glare. Hell, I'd say you're the kind of girl who could kick my ass while lookin’ damn fine doin’ it.”

"That's real cute but flattery will not get you untied." I get closer to whisper in his ear "Mister~"

The Ghoul chuckles, the hairs that would be  on the back of his neck rising at your touch. “Well, ain't you a sly one? Look darlin', I'll gladly sing your praises from here to the Grand Canyon. But you're right, there ain't a compliment in the world that could charm these ropes off me. And don't get me wrong, I ain't complainin'. A pretty lady, good food, and I'm tied down at her mercy? Sounds like a hell of a good time to me.”

"Your just in luck because the food is ready." You take the macaroni and cram off the fire and plate it on the mis-matched plates and cutlery.

The Ghoul's eyes light up as the food hits the table. Well, isn't this a sight for sore eyes? You ain't pullin' any punches, darlin'. Canned mac and cheese and cram. It's like a damn feast for a Wasteland king. I appreciate the effort, darlin'. You've got me hooked. He grins, his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

"You really better be glad I'm wasting my food on you, if I didn't have other food drops and suppliers you'd be starving."

The Ghoul gives a hearty chuckle, his sharp teeth glinting in the light. “Oh, darling, I'm aware. Believe me, I don't take your generosity lightly. But hey, I'd say I make up for it with my sparkling personality. He winks playfully. If you wanted to leave me hungry, you would have done so already. So, why feed me? You gotta be expectin' somethin' in return.”

"Honestly I don't know why I'm helping you, you just feel familiar to me and I don't know why. It's like in my mind I know who you are. But I don't know I might just be talking out of my ass."

The Ghoul's grin falters for a moment, his thoughts racing. He can see the confusion and memory in your eyes. “Ah, familiar, eh? Well, I won't lie, darlin'. I've been around these parts for a damn long time and have met more than my share of fascinating folks. It could be I've got a face that sticks in the mind. But, who knows? Maybe it's just a coincidence. The Wasteland is a mighty big place.”

You abruptly pause and think for a moment, “Would you want to watch a movie with me?"

The Ghoul's eyebrow arches in surprise and amazement. “Now, that's a damn fine suggestion. It ain't often a ghoul gets an invitation to watch the latest Hollywood flick. But, if you're askin', I'd love to join you. As long as it's a proper action movie, none of that romantic crap. I wanna see things blow up and people kick ass, you know what I mean?”

You laugh at his response, gritty and rough, “"Oh yeah you can watch my favorites with me. I only really have a cowboy cooper so I hope you don't mind." You give him a sheepish smile.

The Ghoul's expression grows intrigued. “Cowboy Cooper, eh? Sounds like the kind of movie fit for a true Wasteland outlaw. As long as it's got that proper Wild West charm, I'm in. You better believe I'm ready to sit back and enjoy the show. Let the explosions and bullets fly, darlin'. Hell, it might even make me forget about my current predicament.”

"You're such an old man."  You chuckle to myself as I turn on the movie.

The Ghoul lets out a low chuckle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well now, aren't you the little firecracker? I ain't called old man in years. But hey, if it gets me a front row seat to this flick, I'll wear that label proudly. Now, let's get this show goin'. Nothing like a proper Western to get a ghoul's blood pumpin'”

You watch the movie together on your dilapidated couch on a tv that somehow works. "Now I know who you remind me of."

The Ghoul nods, his eyes flicking between the movie and you. He can tell you’ve got something on your mind. “Go on, darlin’. I could use a good mystery unraveled. Who do I remind you of?”

You make this somewhat off connection in your mind. "Cowboy Cooper, your voices are somewhat similar and you both have the same teeth which is shocking considering you're a ghoul."

The Ghoul's expression is unreadable for a moment as he processes your statement. Then, a slow, sardonic smile spreads across his face. 

“Well, now, isn't that something. Cowboy Cooper, huh? Guess it makes sense, given this ole’ rugged good looks. I'll take that as a compliment, darlin’. As for the teeth…well, I guess you could say life's been rough on them. But it just gives me that extra charm, don't you think?”

"I guess." you chuckle to yourself, as I start to rest your head on the ghouls shoulder.

The Ghoul's smirk softens slightly as he feels you rest your head on his shoulder. He can't help but let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Well, ain't you somethin'? Here I am, all tied up and helpless, but somehow I end up playin’ the role of your personal pillow.”

You nuzzle into him, “Well you are comfier than you look.” You smile to yourself, this is honestly the first time you’ve felt anyones touch in a long time.

The Ghoul's smirk widens into a wolfish grin. He leans against the ropes, allowing you to use him as your makeshift pillow. “Well, darlin', if I knew I’d end up as the Wasteland’s next hottest pillow, I would have tied myself up years ago. But I gotta admit, you’re onto something. Maybe it’s these rugged good looks that make it so comfy. So, is this my new job? Just stayin’ put so you can rest your pretty little head on my shoulder?” 

"Whatever you say cowboy," you  yawn and stretch off of him. "Hey I don't know if you ghouls need to sleep but I will be doing that upstairs. i'll even tie you to my bed so I can sleep easier"

The Ghoul can’t help but chuckle at your bold invitation. He gives you a sly look, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Well now, ain't you the forward one? I haven't slept in years, so you don't gotta worry about me gettin’ into mischief while you catch your rest. As for the whole "tying me up to your bed" shenanigans, well, I won't say I'm opposed to the idea.”

You chuckle and give him a sleepy smile. "I bet you aren't, come on cowboy" As you lead him upstairs.

With a low chuckle, the Ghoul follows you up the stairs, his steps slightly hindered by the ropes. Despite his predicament, he can’t help but feel a bit excited at the prospect of spending the night in your bed. “Well, darlin', if you're offerin', who am I to refuse? Just don’t hog all the covers, alright?”

"Ah ah take off your shoes" You grin with your hand wide open motioning him to give them to you.

The Ghoul pauses for a moment, confusion flickering across his face. “My shoes? Look, darlin’, I ain’t one to question a lady, but this seems like a bit much. If I take my shoes off, then the next thing I know, you’re gonna be demanding I sleep naked and give up my guns.”

"That's not a bad idea, hand em over cowpoke" You knew he had extra weapons you were honestly confused as to why he hadn’t tried anything.

The Ghoul raises an eyebrow at your suggestion, but can’t help but chuckle, clearly amused. 

“Oh now, darlin’. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a wild one, sure, but takin’ off my shoes and sleeping naked? You keep making me an offer like that and I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got plans for me beyond just restin’. Maybe I oughta keep my weapons within reach, just in case.”

"Relax if you think I'm thinking about doing anything of that nature you're surely mistaken" this next part you say under your breath "I've never even done that." 

The Ghoul quirks an eyebrow at your muttered words. “Now wait now, hold up. That sounded like a mighty important confession you just let slip there. Are you tellin' me that you’ve never done any of that?” His eyes rake over you for a moment as a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. “Seems like some fellas in this world are missing out on a good time.”

"Oh be quiet" you throw a pillow at his face and you take his weapon and throw it at the far side of the room. "And if you don't mind I'll be sleeping with my gun, is that ok?”

The Ghoul catches the pillow with a smirk, setting it aside. He watches as you move his weapons away, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Oh trust me, darlin’, I’m perfectly fine with a lady keepin’ her weapon close. In fact, I’d say it’s a mighty smart move, even when you’re sharin’ a bed with a fella like me. Can’t be too careful in this Wasteland.”

"Hmmm you're too eager and I don't like that, but I'll keep you around. I need a guard dog after all" You smile cheekily at him.

The Ghoul's smirk turns into a wolfish grin, revealing a hint of sharp teeth in the dim light. Your wink doesn’t go unnoticed, and he can’t help but appreciate your boldness. “Oh darlin’, you’re playin’ a dangerous game. Keep givin’ me those looks and making comments like that, and you just might find yourself tangled up in somethin’ more than just bedsheets.”

You roll my eyes "goodnight Cowboy"

The Ghoul watches you roll your eyes, a smirk plastered across his face. He can’t help but laugh as you bid him goodnight, his deep chuckle filling the air.

“Alright there, darlin’. Goodnight~” With a wink, he settles down on the bed, his gaze never leaving you. 

[blossom-works]

Scared to Lose You

"We live in a scary and uncertain world. I know you say that you won't know what to do with yourself if you ever lost me, but I cannot promise that I will outlive you. Instead, I promise that I will find a way to tell you that I love you every single day of my life. Up until I can no longer walk on this earth. I will make you feel loved when you walk out that door, and I will make you feel loved when you come back home."

When Leon got that call, his heart stopped. He felt the organ in his chest stop beating. His blood ran cold and his brain went blank. Leon wanted to drop to his knees and wail. He wanted to curse the world. He wanted to burn it down. Leon wanted nothing more than to go back to five hours ago and lock you in your shared home. He would beg you not to go on that mission and to stay home with him. Leave everything to your colleagues so you can be in the comforts of his arms, and he, yours.

Everything feels more real when Leon rushes inside the hospital. He does not even care to check in with the front desk. A couple of nurses have to stop him from barging through every door.

"My wife is here! Tell me where she is!"

The nurses are asking Leon to tell them who it is he is looking for, but all he can say is "My wife". Leon needs to see you. He needs to know that you are okay. You have to be okay. You just have to be. You became his reason for living. You taught him how to navigate the world without getting lost in its darkness. You become his reason to live. If he lost his sun, his light in the world, Leon would be consumed by the darkness of the world.

"Leon!" A banged-up woman comes running down the hallway. Dirt covers her face and she has a slight limp to her.

"Tina, where is she! Tell me she's okay!"

Your co-worker and best friend tell the hospital staff that she will handle this. Tina tells them who it is Leon is looking for and they tell him what floor you are on. Leon immediately sprints to the stairs. No time for the elevator. Tina runs behind the man, asking him to slow down but it falls on deaf ears. How can Leon slow down when his wife is on the brink of death? He needs to be by your side as fast as he can.

Leon sees the double doors to the to the surgery wing but Tina blocks off the door before he can bust through them.

"What are you doing Tina? I need to get to her!"

Tina shakes her head. "You need to calm down, Leon."

"Calm down? Calm down! My wife is about to die and you want me to calm down!"

More of your colleagues hold Leon back, but he fights. He is fighting because he needs to see you. He needs you and there is no way he is going to let anyone take you from him, not even death. Leon is your husband. It is his job to protect you and here you are, in surgery, fighting for your life! Your colleagues have to lock Leon in a room away from the other visitors for fear that he may hurt someone or himself. Given his training, it was hard to overwhelm the DSO agent.

"Enough of this, Leon! You can't go batshit crazy, right now!"

"And why not? My wife is fighting for her life and you expect me to just sit and wait!"

"Yes! There is nothing you can do Leon! Let the doctors do their job so they can save her life and you can bring her back home!"

No words leave Leon's mouth. Tina is witnessing a man at what is potentially his lowest. The room they shoved Leon in is a staff lounge room. Instead of sitting in one of the chairs, Leon paces the floor with his hands behind his head.

"What happened, Tina? What the fuck happened out there?"

"Are you going to sit?" Leon glares at your friend. Tina holds her hands up in defense. "Shit went wrong. It was supposed to be an in-and-out type of mission, but we didn't realize that they had rigged the building with explosives. During the raid, they triggered the bombs. She barely made it a couple of feet outside before the bombs went off."

Tina further explains that you collided with a nearby vehicle from the explosion. The blast resulted in a total of thirty-two casualties, thirty-three fatalities and counting. Before you were wheeled off into the surgery ward, the doctors said that you had multiple shrapnel wounds, broken ribs, and potential internal bleeding. Maybe even a collapsed lung.

As Leon hears all of this, he does not care about the dead cops, agents, or civilians. As horrible as that sounds, all Leon cares about is you. You were in that blast and Leon has no idea what your current condition is. When Tina told Leon about your injuries, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to rip someone's face off. Leon felt his skin starting to burn. The air felt suffocating. Leon feels like he is the one dying, not just you.

Oh, God...you are dying. Are you not? You are on a surgical bed being cut open because it is the only way to save your life. Is Leon really going to lose you? No. Please, God, no. Anything but you. Take him! Take his life! Not yours! Not you!

Seeing her best friend's husband about to enter a panic attack, Tina carefully brings him out of his mind. "Leon, she's going to be okay. We both know she's a strong one. She isn't going out like this." Tina keeps talking to Leon, trying to coax him out of his head. Your friend and colleague really hopes that her words are not empty promises. Tina has witnessed your and Leon's love story since the beginning. Your relationship went by fast, but the two of you love each other. You fought the world together, head-on. You fought for each other, not against one another.

Tina manages to shift Leon to the waiting area. She leaves the man to himself as she gets him a cup of water and a snack from the hospital cafeteria. She doubts he will have the appetite to eat something, but it will not hurt. You and Leon took care of Tina when she went through hell, so it is only right to return the favor. Looking at the time, Tina tells Leon that she has to go home to her family. Leon did not acknowledge her, but Tina knew he heard her. Patting his shoulder, she lets him know that she will have her phone on her.

For eleven grueling hours, Leon sat in that waiting area. He only left his seat when he had to use the bathroom or make a brief call. He sent a quick text to Claire, asking her to take care of Shiloh until further notice. Leon refuses to leave this hospital without the knowledge that you will live. When Claire and the rest heard about you, they rushed to the hospital. None of the doctors or nurses have told Leon about you or your condition. No one had answers and it is quickly killing your husband.

'I didn't feel loved this morning so you can't die. You didn't make good on your vow.' Leon lies to himself in desperation.

One person from your mutual friend group would drop food off for Leon. He would only eat a couple bites of the food though. Leon feels that if he eats more than six or seven bites, he may just throw up. He swears that his heart is about to burst out of his chest at any moment. Finally, when the clock reaches 8:34 a.m., a surgeon walks out the double doors.

"Kennedy?"

Leon immediately jumps from his seat and almost corners the medical expert. He demands to know your condition and where you are. If he has to wait any longer then he may just burst through those damn doors himself.

"Your wife is stable, but her condition is still critical. We're going to keep a close eye on her for the next seventy-two hours. We lost her twice during surgery." Oh, Leon wants to throw up so bad when he hears that you died not once, but two times. "She lost a lot of blood and she has bruising all over her body. Internal and external. Her ribs fractured when she collided with the car, but those are actually minor compared to the rest. Your wife had a total of fourteen shrapnel pieces lodged in her body, mainly her back. With your permission, we would like to run a CT scan to ensure that there is no more internal bleeding or organ damage."

Leon immediately nods and signs the stupid papers. Anything for you. Anything that will make sure you will be okay.

"You can see your wife in about ten minutes. I do have to warn you though, she won't look the same." The surgeon pats Leon's back and goes somewhere in the hospital.

The long hours Leon had to wait do not compare to the ten minutes he has to wait until he can see you. These ten minutes feel like ten days. When a nurse escorts Leon to your room, he wants to yell at her to pick up her pace. Why the hell is she walking so slow?

"She's in here."

Leon practically chokes on air when he sees you on that hospital bed. So many tubes are attached to you that are attached to more machines. He has no idea what any of this does, but if it is to keep you alive, fuck it. Attach all the damn tubes and machines to you. Hesitantly, Leon touches your hand. Contrary to your pale complexion, your body still has warmth to it. That piece of knowledge gives Leon some sort of comfort.

The doctor was right though. You look different, and it does not help that you are hooked up to so many machines. Leon stood there, by your bedside. Just holding your hand and caressing the hair on the top of your head, hoping that you get to come home.

Leon spent an entire week at the hospital. Since Claire was caring for Shiloh, she took the liberty to pack him a bag of clothes and toiletries. Everyone knew that Leon would not leave your side even if you asked him to. It takes you about four hours to wake up after your surgery. Your husband swears that his heart was about to burst when he saw your eyelids flutter.

"Hey, gorgeous," Leon whispers sweet nothings in your ears. He tells you how much he worried for you and how much he misses you. He tells you to never scare him like this again. His heart will not be able to handle such panic again.

Your body hurts and it feels stiff. Your throat is dry too. It takes you a couple of minutes to be able to talk, but when you do, your throat is hoarse. You want to sit up but your body is so exhausted after being blown up and rushed into surgery. Leon does everything for you. Need some water? He is lifting the cup to your lips. Are lights too bright? He will adjust the dimmers. Hungry? Let him check with the doctor first. Kiss? No argument here.

This kiss is desperate. Like Leon wants to make sure that you are alive and well. He wants to make sure that it is you he is kissing and not a corpse. So much love transfers from the kiss. Leon kisses you with his fiery heart that burns only for you. When the doctor deems you okay enough to run more scans, Leon is behind the glass watching you. If he could have it his way, he would be in the machine with you.

You suffered a concussion but with some pain relievers, you will be fine. your scans show no sign of internal bleeding or organ damage. Bruising, yes. Lots of bruising and even down to your bones. Your body also suffered small fractures, but nothing life-threatening. In conclusion, you are lucky to be alive.

When the nurse took out the tubes so you only had an IV drip and your heart monitor attached, you wanted to drown yourself in your work. The sons of bitches blew up local officers and federal agents and innocent lives. Lucky for you, your husband already has the information. The people responsible have been caught and will be tried on multiple, federal accounts. Leon tells you about the memorial being held for the people who died in the explosion.

You touch your husband's face. Your thumb traces the bags under his eyes and his hallowed cheeks. His stubble has also grown too. He looks tired.

"You should sleep." Leon shakes off your concern. "I'm okay."

You both know he is not, but a man will not talk if he does not want to. Even if the person who wants him to talk is his wife. When you are cleared to finally leave the hospital, Leon refuses to let you walk. He has your papers and his bag in one hand, and with his other, he carries you like a toddler. Later the same day, he picks up your prescriptions when you fall asleep on your shared bed.

At night though, Leon refuses to fall asleep. He is scared to close his eyes, only to open them and you are not there. He is scared that your being back home is an illusion his mind made up to cope with your death. Every ten or so minutes, Leon sits up so he can watch your chest rise and fall. He gently touches you so as to not wake you up. You catch onto this behavior after being home for three days.

"Leon, you really need to sleep. Your bags are getting heavier and you can barely stand up without wobbling."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I need to make sure you're still alive."

Limping, you bring Leon to your shared bed and shove him to lie in the middle. You lay down next to him, maneuvering his arm to wrap around your waist. Your head is on his chest and your left hand is around his waist.

"I'm here Leon. I'm right here." You whisper this repeatedly until Leon's eyes get too heavy and he finally goes to sleep. Deep sleep. Not the "let me shut my eyes for a few minutes" sleep. And you stay there, lying next to him until he wakes up. You know that if he wakes up and you are not there, it will tear at Leon's heart. Making him believe that you were really a figment of his imagination and his wife of only nine months is dead.

It is your turn to watch your husband sleep. To know that he is okay. A part of marriage is caring for each other until you physically drop. Leon did his part, and now it is time you do yours. For the next couple of weeks, maybe even months, the two of you will take extra care of each other. You will make sure to love each other a little more than you usually do. To say it more often. Hugs are tighter and cuddles are longer.

Truly, if Leon loses you, the man might as well die then and there. A part of him would want to crawl into the casket with you and lie with you until he joins you in the afterlife. Nothing would save Leon from that hell, not even alcohol. A downside of being with you is that Leon is dependent on you. You are his reason to live. You are his light in the dark tunnel he often adventures in. You have your claws sunk into his heart, soul, and body. Everything that is Leon is yours. He is yours to claim and yours to love.

Please, do not make Leon fall into the pitless well. Please, stay with him until he takes his last breath. Cheat death. Run away from it. Fight it. Do whatever you have to do to stay alive because there is no world or universe out there where Leon can live without you.

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 11

roman roy x fem!reader

Summary: You were invited to come with Roman to Argestes. Unknowingly to you, a huge scandal was about to drop onto the company. Roman needs to land a deal with another nepo baby that would finally make Logan think he was good enough. And you were challenged by juggling your relationship with Roman and friendship with Jess.

TW: Sexism, Alcohol use, nepotism, jealousy, smut MDNI

Word Count: 5.6K

Notes: This took a while, but I'm so glad everyone is enjoying the story. I already have another idea for another story. So once this is done, I will be starting another. Also the Cruises scandal is about to break.

Chapter 11: Billionaire Nepo babies.

You and Roman spent most of your days together once again. You both had kept whatever this was between the two of you extremely private just to save you both from some kind of explosive drama that would definitely arise if you were both found out. You were happy with this agreement and Roman was happy to just finally be able to hold you in his own arms. He could fully be himself without a single judgment.

You weren’t just two people hooking up though, in fact, you haven’t even had any sexual contact with him rather than feeling him once that completely freaked him out. He wasn’t ready, but he had never told you that. He just gave the excuse of wanting to take it slow with you. But he had continuously made sexual innuendos and constant references, without acting or doing anything. You tried not to get hurt by it. I mean- Roman did nearly lose it over the fact you wouldn’t be with him in the first place. It was obvious that he did want you. Plus, you were his assistant, you had access to all his messages and emails. Roman had no one else to hide.

You both had spent the entire morning, making fuck me eyes at one another and light flirting within the privacy of his office. You were just always a little too close to him and vice versa.

You hated that you had to lie to Jess though. That’s what you did every day though. You lied to her face every time you saw her, never mentioning you and Roman’s weird relationship. You never had to do that before. Whenever you were in a relationship, Jess was always the first to know when you were seeing someone new or if you even had feelings for another person. It felt wrong to keep it from her, but you knew it would be for the best.

You even lied to Kendall, saying nothing at all happened and that you just went home. But you ended up apologizing to Roman. Kendall didn’t entirely believe you, but there wasn’t much he could do to pry the real details from you.

Either way, you and Roman were happy with your arrangement. It was the most stable ‘relationship’ if you could even call it that, you’ve ever been in. And this was the most Roman had ever put out of his way for someone he liked.

You were both were finally comfortable for the first time in your lives.

But a scandal was soon to break out on the Roys and one branch of their company, Cruises. None of the kids, except Kendall were filled in yet. Only the PR team and certain members of the board. They were trying to make it go away just before the conference that the family was going to, but it just was getting worse and worse as more people came out against the family. You sat in the back seat with Roman, driving to this conference together, a little late to it. There were a ton of reporters outside the venue, trying to snap pictures of the car and what was inside. Roman couldn’t help but laugh and point at them. “Look at these fucking idiots.” He giggled again before leaving the car and posing for the camera before dismissing them. You quickly followed behind though. “Looks like there’s not going to be much privacy this weekend. Maybe we could get some really sexy pictures out of it though.” Roman whispered to you. You gave him a look and just went through the building, ignoring his flirtatious comment. Kendall left right after us with Jess, getting his badges with you and Roman, but Roman just made ignorant comments to the worker. You left with Jess to get everything settled for the event. This was the way for the Roys to finally get back in with Nan.

You watched a few people along with Logan and Kendall rush into a room as if they knew something really important. “Uh-Jess why are they?” You pointed out. Jess looked just as confused as you were. Roman was out there still making fun of Tom and Greg to their face, while everyone else was talking about something that Roman had no idea about. “What the fuck?” You whispered.

Logan had left the room, and everyone broke out to work on their own way of shutting this scandal down.

Gerri left, looking for Roman. Gerri had tried to get Roman involved. She needed to find a way to make Roman seem more worthy than his dad thought he was. She had been eyeing this billionaire son for a bit, knowing they could possibly buy them out and it would be huge for Waystar incase Pierce dropped out, which was likely. You couldn’t help but stare, Jess catching you.

“Roman’s playing mommy again.” Jess giggled. You looked at her, holding back your laugh. “Uh-wait are you still meeting with me to get ready to the party?” She asked you. You stopped to think but nodded.

“Of course, we gotta see what looks good on each other if we wanna manipulate them to buy us a new wardrobe.” You joked. It was your lifestyle you use to live with Jess from when you guys had first met, probably the first three years of your relationship consisted of it. You and Jess would flirt with promoters to get into clubs or message them to boost their egos. You both eventually got into very exclusive clubs and parties and had led rich men into thinking they were going to get anything out of you for luxurious stuff like dinners or other social events or even just items. You weren’t a sugar baby, just you were able to talk your way into certain things with these men. Jess had to break away from you and scheduled to see you at 6:30 at her hotel room. You just planned on getting the two of you tequila in the room before she got there so you both could also drink beforehand. You found Roman, standing with himself as he had just given up on talking to others at the party.

Gerri had to remind him that despite having Shiv be her dads right hand man, it could change if Roman was more serious. Roman wasn’t taking it too well. You’ve seen how the toll of this entire thing had taken on him. He was upstairs, with a green Perrier bottle in his hand, bringing it over to his lips every so often. He leaned on the railing, scanning the room. “Hey. You done overlooking the party batman?” You teased him.

“Fucking haha- uh- I’m just tryna think… Thought if I posed like this, you’d find it sexy and wouldn’t be able to control yourself.” He lied, his sad pouty lips curling into a smirk as he brought the green bottle to his lips again and sipped on it.

You giggled, leaning on the railing the same as him, looking over the party. “What were you looking at?” You asked. You scanned the room to see potential people for Roman to eventually fuck over. Roman pointed the man sitting down in some leather chair talking to some women.

“Eduard. He’s some rich dickhead Gerri thinks I should talk to to win daddy’s love.” Roman scoffed. You eye the man down, asking why Gerri would ask. Roman went into the same details, all be it more melo-dramatic, that Gerri had before. You nodded, trying to think it over.

“I think it could work. Just don’t be an asshole.” You warned him. “You could do it at the party.” You shrugged. It could work. There was enough time, it would be a friendly setting. Roman was better at informal meetings than formal ones. He was way better at the casual ‘im your friend’ kind of parts of the business. Kendall just came off as too intimidating or too much of a kiss up for his dad. It made the deals usually seem so artificial.

You went out of your way to make Roman actually speak to other though. He had never been so reserved until this massive ego bruise that his dad had left him. You had to push Roman back out of his shell. But before you knew it, you had to go meet with Jess. “Uh Rome- I will see you after at the party, okay? Uh- good luck.” You gave him a gentle longing hand hold, something discreet enough to remind Roman you weren’t leaving him. “I’m gonna just meet with Jess and get ready. It’ll be worth it. I promise.” You winked before leaving him behind. He looked completely lost without you. You felt bad for him. He had been on autopilot since Nan’s. You were just the one steering along with Gerri sometimes coming in as well. She had been the only one who believe in him before you came. She could see him actually growing up and doing the work that his siblings were set to do. She saw Roman’s potential. Despite all the sexual advancements in the past and the flirting Roman did, they did have that mother-son dynamic. But y’know, Romans’ mommy issues couldn’t help himself from sexualizing a motherly figure in his life.

You had grabbed a bottle of Don Julios with a liter of coke for the chasers that you were prepped to take. You knocked on Jess’ bedroom door and had it opened for you by Jess. She couldn’t keep her excitement to herself, letting out a little sequel as you both walked into her room. It was like old times. You had left your bag in Jess’ room and grabbed it, pulling out outfits you had prepared. Jess did the same and you both started with trying each thing you had on for one another to rate. After going back in forth for a while, you both came to your conclusions of what you were wearing for the night. You put music on, trying to skip through whatever sad song came up if it ever did. “Fuck.” You mumbled, getting up again after just sitting down to redo your makeup to change the song. “No- it’s fine. It’s a good song.” Jess laughed loudly at how many depressing songs kept coming through. You both had probably taken 3 shots together each at this point. “Yea cause listening to Mitski is really what I want to hear while getting drunk off of tequila.” You giggled.

You heard Jess singing along to the song, hoping you’d join her. Her hands extended out to you and sang loudly. You couldn’t help but take her hand and sing with her. “You’re coming back and IT’S THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEND!” You both shouted, pulling each other close. Your arms wrapped around each other, swaying each other and singing the song with each other. “This is way too intimate.” Jess laughed, pulling away. There was such a closeness to you and Jess. Maybe could you had met her at such a sore spot in your life.

You had just dropped all contact with your parents. You had left them as soon as you could. You moved into your dorm and now had no reason to ever be around them or speak to them. You even had changed your number. It’s not like it mattered to them though. You had already spent a year not speaking to them. But it was a lot harder than you thought it would be. You thought you’d be so happy as soon as it was over with, but you weren’t. You had gone to your dorm that night, moving all your stuff and still felt so incredibly empty. You spent the week crying. You would roll up in your bed, clinging to your stuffed animal, wishing it could’ve been different. But this was it. And jess was there. And she listened. In fact, she had brought you around her family. Credit, they weren’t incredible, they fought with Jess, but they were a normal family. They were only angry with her when they wanted the best for her. You wanted that. And you were glad Jess was there to give you that. You were essentially indoctrinated in her family as if you were an adoptee. It felt nice. And Jess never made you feel bad about your family life. Or how you grew up. Or your other fairly obvious traumas that arised from time to time. Jess was here to listen and comfort and help you with your outbursts and emotions. You weren’t a perfect person, but Jess loved you for you.

The song changed to something you had forgotten you had in your music. “AHH!” You screamed in excitement. Mariah Carey’s ‘We Belong Together’. Jess laughed, getting up, pouring you both a shot to get you both more hyped for the party. You rushed over, downing it quickly. You swayed your hips to the song, using your hand as if it was a microphone. You both went to trying to get ready without getting so distracted, but you both did end up getting fairly distracted every so often depending on what song came through.

Jess saw your phone buzzing a few times, seeing Roman’s name come up. “Incoming, your boss needs you!” Jess threw your phone to you. You grabbed it, answering the call.

“Where are you? I’ve been here for half an hour. Wait- are you at another party?” He asked you. The music was apparently louder than you thought. You lowered the music, pulling the speaker closer to you.

“Ya, sorry. Me and Jess got distracted. We’re heading over now.” You couldn’t help but laugh as Jess was rushing to put her heels on, tripping in the process.

“Okay- I can’t wait to see for what you told me was worth it.” Roman made an attempt at flirting that wasn’t extremely vulgar. Somehow it was worse than just his extremely explicit flirtatious comments.

“Okay Roman. I’ll see you. Don’t keep me on the phone too long.” You said, pulling your shoes on. You left the room with Jess, trying to find where the party was being held. You met Roman out at front though. He seemed like a nervous wreck. He had no idea how to make the deal with Eduard. He didn’t know how he was going to do it. He needed you to calm his nerves.

“Romyyyy” Jess sang, she had a lot to drink or else she would barely acknowledge him. He looked at you, not able to keep his eyes off of how you looked. His lips slightly parted in an amused smile, making sure he got every detail down on how you looked tonight. “She had 5 shots before this. She isn’t that good with liquor.” You apologized for her, hugging Roman casually. His hand rested on your lower back, knowing Jess wouldn’t remember anyways. Or at least wouldn’t question it since it was a party after all.

Jess wondered and began her night. “So, I was looking at Eduard’s way and I just- fuck- the guys a douche.” He was flustered. You looked his direction, rolling your eyes almost immediately. He looked like the guys you would mess with in college. He was surrounded by women, his clothing was even pretentious looking, as if he had to show off everything to others.

“Look, you’re gonna be great. Just go for it. You both fit each other’s type too. Sleezy Billionaire nepo babies.” You joked, undoing his shirt a bit and making him look ready or as if he had actually been going around the party tonight. “Perfect.” You smiled.

“You sure we can’t just casually kiss? I mean assistants do that all the time. I know Greg and Tom do.” He joked, but really wishing he could kiss you in front of people. But he knew he shouldn’t. Not just for your sake but his as well. He couldn’t be too identical to his dad. “Okay fine. Meet me in the bathroom in like 15 minutes. I’m pretty sure we could play it off as a glory hole situation” Roman continued to play around before leaving you to play business flirting with Eduard. No matter how disgusting Roman could be it made him kind of endearing. It such a shameful disgusted way.

You looked for Jess but had seen her already chatting up with some guy. You left her be, going to get yourself a drink. You sipped on your colorful drink, looking around. Roman had gone in the bathroom with Eduard. You just laughed to yourself. You watched Roman come back, slightly defeated. “What happened?” You asked to be informed.

“I don’t know anything about the jackass.” He ran his fingers through his hair, letting air out. “The dumbass basically told me to make the news less sad. No one wants to watch fuckin firefighters saving babies. Or priests not diddling kids.” Roman was annoyed. You rubbed his back, pouting at how upset he seemed.

“Well if you guys are gonna talk..” You tried to make light of it. “I didn’t get his number. He did give me his cocaine though. Did he confuse me for my brother or something?” You wished you could help. You had an idea though.

“Just sit here. Here. Have my drink. I’m gonna work the deal.” You smiled, leaving a kiss onto Roman’s cheek before leaving him at the bar.

You had gone up to Eduard’s table, laying your hand on his shoulder and modeling your body down to him. This was usually your move. You leaned down, tits first, making your hips or ass look incredible as you asked for something small. “Hey, what’s your name?” You asked. You tucked your hair back, looking up at him, giving him fuck me eyes. He immediately fell into the bait. His hand rested on your waist and told you his name. You gave him yours before he insisted you sat down. He leaned forward to make you a drink. You took it, sipping on it as you laid your body close to his. You ran your fingers through his hair as he talked about whatever he was going on about. “Yeah- that’s so fucking awful…” You pitched your voice up, as if you ever really gave a fuck. “God- I mean people only really talk about negativity nowadays. I was just talking about that today with my boss.” You brought Roman up. He asked who your boss was. “I work at Waystar. But yea- we had this conversation about how we only bring up the negative bullshit in politics rather than celebrate our politicians’ achievements.” You lied. You had to play into this billionaire weridos fantasy. “Normally, I don’t even support any of that.” You continued. You knew Eduard was barely paying any attention, but whatever that would make you sleep with him was what he was willing to do. “But yea- no one fits our vision.” You lied which only prompted Eduard to put himself in on the deal.

“I would love to talk about this more tomorrow when I’m sober. But here give me your phone.” He mentioned. You did as he said and saw him put his number in along with a text sent to himself. He picked up his phone and sent you his room number, hoping you’d come. You fake laughed, running your hand down his arm.

“Well, I do think I have to go soon. I have to make sure my bosses don’t make a fool out of themselves. But I’ll try to make it over tonight. If you’re still awake.” You lied before getting up from his booth and over to Roman. He watched the whole interaction with a whole bunch of feelings being brought up. He was completely stunned at how you were. A hint of jealousy even arose. A lot actually. He was a bit turned on, but only cause of how you were even acting. He wasn’t sure if he liked watching you flirt and play around with other people. Especially since he knew you could do better. I mean- they could probably fuck you properly. But you looked so good. He was also embarrassed he couldn’t make the deal as quickly as you did. But still impressed that you managed to.

“You’re a fucking succubus. I hope you didn’t play the same little game with me.” He laughed, trying to hide the fact he was upset about it.

“Shut up. Buy me a shot for my win.” You insisted tapping him on the chest. He did just that. Along with one for him. You both downed it quickly, your face scrunching up once the taste came up on your tongue. “Besides, I actually wanna fuck you. Not that dick.” You mentioned in passing. You never really expressed yourself to Roman that way. But you had a few drinks in you to make you a bit more confident in saying so.

Roman always had this look of desperation whenever he wanted to make those fantasies a reality. You could always see him going into his own head and his dirty thoughts of what he would actually do if he actually could perform. But you assumed it was you.

Jess came over though, interrupting the two of you. “Y/n. Come on. Let’s dance!” She giggled, grabbing your hands. You looked at Roman, you two of sharing a look to her about how drunk she had been. “Come on Roman, let her have fun.” She teased.

“I-uh- I actually need to do something quickly though. But uh- yea go ahead. Have fun.” Roman shooed you two off before leaving the party. Roman’s insecurities got the best of him and he had gone off to speak to Gerri for some encouragement. He knocked on the door, making his way in. “How’d it go?” she asked concerned about his visit to her room. He sat on the kitchen counter and went into what had occurred. Mostly with you. “I mean- is it cause I don’t have tits? Is that what it is?” He tried to hide his insecurities with another reason of why his deal didn’t go perfectly.

“You should be grateful you have her Roman. She can work out the deals you can’t.” Gerri told him harshly. She saw him shifting, knowing exactly what it meant. “Roman- no.” She sighed. “Are you both fucking?” She began to parent him, knowing in the scandal they’re about to get into, this would be the worst thing to happen to the company if the news broke out. Cruises Waystar involved with sexual assault and hiding it along with the CEO’s son and possible new CEO, fucking his assistant, abusing his power.

“We’re not fucking-“He tried to explain. A silence came over him before he finally explained. “We’re… mutually… just… rubbing privates in private.” He shrugged. He couldn’t explain it better than that.

“Roman- you cannot just- “Gerri continued but Roman interrupted. “She came on to me. This wasn’t just- “Roman defended himself, but Gerri was not gonna listen. She knew how badly this could turn out. “Roman, the public won’t see it that way. Just- don’t get caught. You both deny this for however long this last.” Gerri gave him advice. Roman just nodded, staying quiet about it. He just vented to Gerri about the CEO position hoping they could come to a conclusion. Gerri cared too much for him, agreeing to his compromise of whoever became CEO would make the other one Chair.

Gerri sent him on his way, giving him one more warning. He decided to go back to the party, seeing you and Jess just having the best time. Roman was ready to just leave the scene. But you didn’t like you were. “Rome!” You called out, telling him to come over. He shook his head, turning down the offer. You pouted, going over to him and pulled on his hand. “Come ooooon, just relax. What’s got you so uptight?” You asked him.

“Uh- I think I’m just gonna go to my room.” He admitted. You didn’t want to leave, but didn’t want to not be around him.

“Just give me 5 minutes. I’ll meet you there.” You promised him. He let a smile creep up before nodding, leaving quietly.

You decided to make your escape and try to make Jess think you were going on your own. After dancing with her for one more song, you lied to her about being tired. “I’ll see you in the room, right?” Jess asked.

“Uh- no. I’m going to mine.” You continued to lie. She seemed disappointed, but you tried to get out of it quickly. “Oh please- you and the guy were hitting it off. I don’t wanna disrupt your night.” You giggled. You gave her a hug before leaving her. You walked the hall, trying to find Roman’s room. Unknowing to you, Jess got bored without you and decided to make her way to your room. She saw you make the wrong turn to your room and decided to make sure you got to your room safely.

You turned the corner, knocking on Roman’s room. He opened it, put his hand around your waist, laying a kiss on you before you both walked into his room. Jess had just turned the corner to witness it all. Her jaw dropped in complete horror, turning around and going to her room. She was hurt and frustrated. She immediately sobered up after witnessing it. You had been lying to her. She had no idea how long this was even lasting. It hurt. She felt betrayed. Someone she promised to always protect you and be there for you was lying to her. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. But it made sense now, seeing all the patterns of behavior you both displayed.

You laid down on Roman’s bed, staring at him as he was pouring himself a scotch.

“Roman..” You mumbled. He turned to you, his eyebrows raising up to wonder what you needed. “I really… really… want you to fuck me.” You were more confident after taking a shot with him earlier.

He didn’t know how to properly react. He wasn’t ready to go into his own fucked up issues with you tonight, especially now. “Uh- why?” He laughed, not knowing what else to really say. You looked at him confused, assuming he was joking with you.

“Cause- I think you’re incredibly sexy and I just know you’d listen to what I need.” You sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Uh… alright.” He wanted to do this with you just as badly, just not wanting to disappoint. He knew as soon as it would come time to actually perform, he would maybe get soft and get lost and freak out and then just ruin the experience for the both of you.

“Do you just not want me” You began to question. He shook his head no, putting his glass down. He stood in front of you, cupping your cheeks, making you look at him.

“I want to do everything to you.” He promised. “Just- I don’t- I can’t…” he tried. You looked so pretty with his hands on your face. The way you looked at him quickly made him go into his own fantasies. “Can we maybe- uh-“ He tried to find the words to say without making it sound gross.

“What? I’ll do anything you want my love.” You submitted. That was probably the first time any of you had used a pet name with one another. Roman cursed under his breath, his breath getting heavy.

“Take the dress off.” He told you. You nodded, slowly stripping down for him, making eye contact as the straps of your dress came down your shoulders. You slowly unzipped the dress and had it fall down to reveal your chest. Roman moved his hand down to touch himself and watch you. You giggled, pulling the dress fully of, only revealing yourself in a thong.

“What else do you need me to do?” You asked.

“Alright… well me and my other- fuck.. this is so fucking- alright just fucking touch yourself. That’s it. Just fucking watch me and I watch you.” Roman tried to make this not sound as weird as he could but making it weirder by how nervous he had been.

You nodded, following his instructions, moving your underwear off to the side. You took two fingers, making circular motions over your folds, legs spread wide enough for Romans viewing. He put his hands under his pants, stroking himself as he kept his eyes in view of you. He was too embarrassed to reveal himself in front of you. But you weren’t taking too much into mind. You weren’t going to push. You just wanted to make him feel good.

You slid your fingers inside of yourself, another hand taking over to continue to rub circular motions onto your clit. Roman let out heavy gasps, his hand moving faster, watching you intensely, lust blinding everything around his view of you.

You moved your fingers quicker, your moans being high pitched the close you got, gasps leaving your lips as you felt yourself getting there. Roman felt himself getting on the edge before you had. His body twitched, removing his hand from his pants. His breathe was heavy as he now needed to clean himself off.

“Please let me finish you off.” He grew a sudden confidence. You nodded, moving your hands away. He sat down in front of you, laying his hands over your legs, bring a hand up. “Just fucking tell me what to do.” He warned you.

“Okay- well, first you can…” You began to guide him, moving his hand up, playing it where you had them recently. You moved his hand to the pressure that felt comfortable to you and the speed. Your breathing became irregular again, throwing your head back, holding on his wrist to let him know he was doing good. Roman wanted to learn every part of you. He needed to learn your body better than you. You moved your hips against his hand, looking over at him. “Okay, now just come closer.” You instructed. You held his head, moving it towards between your thighs. You tried to instruct him on what you exactly like. “Just whatever sound I make that doesn’t sound uncomfortable, just keep doing it.” You teased before leaving him to do what had had learned. He pressed his lips against your cunt, moving his tongue to whatever he thought he should. You moved his head to whatever felt good and Roman followed your lead. Roman eventually got the hang of it, watching your body and seeing what response you gave him that seemed good. Your breathing quickened, your hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer to you, begging him to do what you wanted to get you there. And he did everything you asked. Pleasure took over your body, your back arching and your thighs tightening around Roman. He pulled away as you seemed to be done. You tried to catch your breath, staring at the ceiling. Once your heart rate reached a normal rate, you looked over at him, still sitting in front of you. “You did so good Roman.” You praised, sitting down and leaning down to kiss him.

“Of course, I did.” He boosted his own ego. He was just glad he was able to do something for you. He was scared, but it was good enough that you didn’t need to touch or look at him. It was about you. There was no pressure on his body. He had gotten up and grabbed a change of clothes before going to the bathroom. You hadn’t brought anything to change into, just deciding to pull on one of Roman’s plain shirts.

Roman came back to see you in his shirt. “You are so fucking sexy.” He mumbled, coming to you, pulling you into another kiss. “You’re also disgusting for kissing me know where my mouth just was.”

“You say that now until you kiss me after I blow you.” You joked back. Roman wasn’t sure when he’d be ready for that to ever happen yet. But this was a major step for him. In the past year, he’s only had sex maybe twice. Once after his ego bruise made him finally attempt to fuck his ex, but that just was more of an ego bruise since she just made him feel embarrassed. And the other was with his ex-girlfriend who he had been in a long term relationship with. It was just another way to prove something. He barely finished. The rest of his experiences were resorted to him jerking off in the other room with whoever he was with in the other room doing the same.

You sat down on his bed, moving over to give him room. “Let me show you that show finally! Log into your Netflix.” You laughed, giving him the remote.

Roman was happy to even be here with you. You were nothing like anyone he had ever met. You were normal. Not in a bad way. Just in the sense of you weren’t constantly craving some greedy need. You just wanted to do whatever came up. You weren’t fixated on luxuries. You weren’t around Roman for anything other than someone that made you smile and laugh. This was the first sense of normalcy Roman had ever felt.

This was what a normal relationship felt like.

Roman had never been more satisfied.

Notes: a lot happened in this chapter. this also was the most i’ve ever written. 5.6k words is crazy i’m so happy.

Chapter 12

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[elizacinnamon]

Five Times Archie Andrews Felt Jealous (And One Time He Didn’t Mind)

I.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like as a little kid. A twist in the stomach, similar to dread. He felt jealous when other kids got to bat first in little league. He felt jealous when he saw other kids having milkshakes before dinner on school nights at Pop’s. He felt jealous when he saw his friends with happy families that included siblings and parents who never fought.

But real, sickening jealousy comes at a price. He remembered the first time he ever felt that stomach-turning sting: sitting in the student lounge, watching Jughead slip his arm around Betty. His oldest pal with his arm around his best friend. His Betty. 

He supposed he deserved it. The price he had to pay. Weeks prior, he had told Betty he wasn’t good enough for her even though he loved her. He meant every word. He truly loved her; he knew that without a doubt. But he felt so messed up those days. And he couldn’t mess something as perfect as her up. 

But Jughead? He clenched his fist. His two best friends dating? God, how he wanted to punch Jughead’s face. Archie still felt sure he didn’t deserve Betty, but he also felt sure that Jug didn't either. She was too good for both of them, too good for the entire world. But she seemed happy—her sweet smile a bit brighter, a skip in her step. To see her happy was enough to settle his stomach and ignore the pain. And he no longer knew where her heart lay. He smiled and pretended to be supportive. But a little part of him hoped he would be good enough for her at the end of the road . . .

II.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like but once he officially started dating Betty, he felt it in a new, furious, way that he hadn’t expected. A decade passed since the moment he first witnessed Betty with another boy; he had suffered through three years of watching his two best friends in a passionate, tragic, nauseating relationship. At times, he convinced himself Jughead might be truly good for Betty. He seemed to make her happy, after all. He understood a part of Betty that confused, yet fascinated, Archie—the side obsessed with mysteries and novels. But he also saw Betty shrink and change in ways he couldn’t put his finger on. Mostly, he missed her. He missed his best friend. Once his dad died, only Betty could make him feel like home again. Betty was back-to-school grilled cheese, spilled oil on overalls, and laughter over overdue homework assignments. His Betty. The one he still didn’t feel good enough for, yet the only one who made him feel good. Jealousy grew into longing, desire, and aching. All of it led to a forbidden kiss, a song, and the end of the relationships that kept them separate. 

It took a war, another round of failed relationships, and a bomb explosion for him to finally ask her to be his girlfriend. Yet, not even a week later, she rubbed his hands across the sticky table of a bar and told him the last thing he ever wanted to hear. Her boss had made unwanted advances on her the previous evening. To make matters worse, she revealed that she had previously had a fling with the same boss. 

The stern look in her eyes told him she had it handled. And he knew she did. But in his mind, he thought of the girl in a pink dress in his arms as they danced across a gymnasium floor. A girl in love who hadn’t yet had his heart broken by him. A girl unshrunk and unchanged. A girl who deserved to be kept from it all—gang drama, her father’s evil, and men who saw her as something to conquer. A girl, who despite everything she’d been through, deserved to be loved, cherished, and kept from everything horrible in the world. 

The jealous twist in his stomach came with violent rage. He tried to imagine Glen (even the thought of him enraged him . . . she deserved more than his greasy hair and smug face) with Betty. He tried to imagine the careless, evil, mind that thought it was okay to use her for one’s own ends. His Betty. With that awful man. 

Archie imagined throwing Glen through a wall. It felt good to imagine. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a bad idea, after all . . .

III.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like when it came to seeing Jughead with Betty, but it was different now that he had officially started dating her. They had only been together a few months, but Archie could barely remember life before going to sleep to their mumbled pillowtalk. In the chaos of the town, and their lives, Betty once again was the only thing that made him feel like home. 

When Betty announced she had asked Jughead to 'read her mind,' he looked at her with wild eyes. He couldn’t bear to imagine the two of them alone, holding hands, and diving into her memories. But he knew how lost she felt and he wanted her to get better. He wanted, more than anything, for her to push past the world she dug herself into full of darkness and only know light. Because he loved her, and because he knew her, he let her go. 

But the evening she spent at Jughead’s, with him home alone, nearly sent him over the edge. It didn’t help that they got into a fight moments before. Betty yelling at him to be more careful, implying his journey to become invulnerable to palladium was foolish. Hearing her speak, Archie realized it was a little silly. But he wanted to be invulnerable to fight for her, no matter what. However, that notion sounded cliché, old fashioned, and controlling so he kept his mouth shut.

For an hour, he paced around the house. He made himself eat dinner from the can of soup Betty previously opened for him. He did the dishes. He organized the pantry twice. He took Bingo for a walk. But the entire time, he imagined her sitting on Jughead’s couch. Were they talking about memories? Reflecting on the past? Laughing together about how foolish they had been to ever break up?

After a while, he started to grow ill. Full body chills. Aches. A fever. Likely the palladium around his neck but he blamed Jughead. This time, jealousy was practically killing him. He laid on the couch and wallowed in his misery. His feverish brain kept playing a scene that involved Betty coming home, days later, and announcing she decided to leave him for Jughead. It felt like knives to the heart. 

But after a little while, Betty opened the door and softly mumbled his name. Half-conscious, he felt her fall against his side. 

Archie looked down at her, sleepy yet peaceful. He cleared his throat. “Was your . . . uh session . . . productive?” 

She shrugged. “It was fine, I guess. But a pain to be with Jug for that long. All I could think about was how much I wanted to come home.” Home. Archie blushed, realizing his previous worries were in vain and wondering if Betty realized what she said. Maybe, just maybe, she thought of him as home in the way he’d always thought of her . . .

IV.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like when it came to other people dating, or liking, Betty romantically but never knew what it felt like professionally. He respected Betty's job at the FBI and thought of her as a total badass. But it wasn’t until the topic of Slaughter Con arose that Archie grew jealous of Betty’s FBI colleagues who understood her career in a way that he simply did not.

Sitting across the table from Betty’s co-worker, Agent Drake, Archie felt the old queasy anger rise up again. Why did she act better than him? Why did she act like she could do a better job at protecting Betty than he could? He cupped his coffee cup firmly, giving Drake the evil eye. Nobody could protect, or fight for Betty, like he knew that he could. He decided to ignore Drake’s rude and pointed comments and pretend she didn’t exist. He enjoyed pretending she didn't exist.

But walking around Slaughter Con, Archie couldn’t escape her. Every time he looked for Betty, there she was. Following Betty, talking to her, or whispering something “work related.” She wouldn’t leave Betty—his Betty—alone. A leech, Archie thought to himself. But when he mentioned his dislike of Drake to Betty, she told him that he was overreacting. 

“She’s someone I can talk to about work stuff,” Betty said shortly. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

Archie felt suddenly small and madly jealous. As silly as it sounded, he wanted to understand her work stuff. He wanted to understand everything in her brain. He wanted to be the only person she could confide in. 

He knew the right thing to do. He knew he needed to take a step back. He knew it was his job to support Betty, and allow her the freedom to do, and discuss, her work in the way she found best. He trusted her and he knew she could handle herself. But he secretly hoped, in his most horrible moments, that Drake would trip or step on a nail. 

V.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like and he thought his jealousy was justified (most of the time). But jealousy comes in different forms. Romantic is just one. Professionally is another. One form he never expected to feel? Jealousy over Betty’s own family. 

Growing up beside Betty, he knew well that the Coopers were nothing but a broken family living in a house of horrors. He knew the truth well before the rest of the town realized the Coopers weren't the perfect family. Even with his own dysfunctional parents, he never once felt jealous over the trauma that Betty carried from her home life. 

But when Polly came back, he felt the familiar stomach twist. It completely surprised him. He knew he shouldn’t be jealous over Betty spending time with Polly considering the fact she loved her sister and previously thought she had lost her forever. But Betty looked so damn happy after hearing Polly had returned. The glow in her eyes made him wonder if he made her that happy, too. Did Polly make her feel more at home?

He remembered Betty mentioning Polly as a potential emotional tether. Did she ground her more than him? He knew it was a silly jealousy, one rooted in insecurity and overthinking. But he wanted to be home to her. 

That night, after spending the entire day with her sister, Betty slipped into bed beside him. 

“I’m glad you got to see your sister again,” Archie said quietly. Despite everything, he meant it. 

Betty, eyes closed, grinned. “Me, too. But I missed you today. Maybe tomorrow she can come and spend the day here with both of us.”

“Yeah?” Archie asked, reaching to place his hand on her back underneath the covers.

“Yeah. I want my sister to really get to know the person most important to me, the person who I’ve talked to her about since I was a little kid,” Betty replied, looking happier than ever. “And see our home. The life we’ve created, different from the one we grew up in.”

Archie felt his previous jealousy deflate like a balloon. He realized, despite years of doubts and fears, he had always been her home, just as she had been his. 

“I love you,” he mumbled in response, unable to say anything else. 

VI.

Archie knew what jealousy felt like but in those days, he didn’t mind. He wasn’t used to Betty telling someone else “I love you” more than him and he certainly wasn’t used to her kissing someone else more. He wasn’t used to her spending all her time talking about, and caring for, a human who wasn’t him. 

Seeing her hold lil’ Freddie, and fall in love with the little life they made together, made him feel like home as never before. Home was grilled cheese and milkshakes because they didn’t have time to cook anything else, spilled milk and spit up on shirts and skin, and tears and laughter over the amazement of their son’s life. Their Family.

In those days, Archie had no doubt where Betty’s heart lay. Although it was split, he was okay with that. In those days, he no longer questioned her feelings about him or the place she called home. He knew where her home was because it was the same as his.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Breaking Up Slowly: Chapter Three

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, guns, mild violence, arguments, big angst, making up, tender!joel, oral sex (m!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, brief talks of risk of pregnancy, soft ending)

word count: 6.8k

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“Can’t believe you and Tommy are gonna be in the same room after all these years,” you commented as you, Ellie, and Joel walked through the woods near Jackson, the location of his younger brother’s new settlement.

“Me neither,” Joel mumbled under his breath, clearly anxious about the reunion after the fight that went down between them four years ago.

“Should we be worried?” Ellie asked, watching as both of you shook your head.

“Tommy’s a good man. He might try to kill Joel, but he won’t hurt us,” you assured.

“What happened between you two?” Ellie turned to Joel, earning a sigh.

“We just had a disagreement, s’all,” he glanced over at you, the fact that you were actually there to witness the explosive argument forcing him into honesty. “Tommy saw the world one way, I saw it the other.”

“And that’s why he joined the fireflies,” Ellie concluded from behind the two of you.

“Yeah, your friend Marlene promised him hope and that kept him busy for a while, but just like Tommy, he eventually quit that too,” Joel replied, almost sounding…normal? The way you remembered him, at least.

There was no anger in his tone anymore, not after the night in Somerset. Instead, Joel had slowly returned to the man you knew before your relationship. Civil, polite, occasionally playful and flirty, but to say things had gotten back to the way they used to be would be a lie.

Joel hadn’t touched you—not in the way you craved—since Somerset, nearly a month ago. That wasn’t to say the two of you were strictly platonic.

He’d kissed you. Every morning and every night, in the privacy of your shared sleeping bag. He slept beside you every night, holding you so close you feared you’d suffocate, but that was just how you liked it. But no matter the amount of quick pecks and reassuring glances, you missed that one specific part of your relationship so much you could cry.

And last night, you actually did.

You laid practically underneath him, Ellie fast asleep on the other side of the campfire, her snores loud enough to keep both of you awake well into the night. Joel’s hands rested on your hips, stilling them as they tried to roll against him, seeking out relief from the building ache between your thighs. He kissed you soft and slow, trying to keep it tame but your lips sought something deeper, filthier.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips in a whine, stroking tour hand over his face. “I need you.”

“Baby…Ellie’s right there. We can’t.” His lips moved against yours as he spoke, unwilling to part from you even if it meant his words would be muffled and near inaudible.

“Take me into the woods,” you suggested, more than desperate. “Bend me over a fucking tree, I don’t care. I just…I need to feel you. It’s about more than just sex, Joel. I…need to be with you again. So that this feels real.”

“Baby…” he cooed, finally pulling away to stare down at you, stroking your hair back as he studied you with reverence. “We’re here. This is real.”

His reassurance didn’t satisfy you, tears falling down your cheeks and onto his thumb as he preemptively stroked them away.

“I promise…once we get to Tommy’s and we’re all safe enough, you and I will get some time alone.” He kissed each of your cheeks, tasting the salt of your tears. “You have no idea how much I want to, darlin’, but we can’t tonight.”

“I know,” you sighed, finally tired enough to swallow your need down for the night. Joel placed a tender kiss onto your lips like a promise, his nose nuzzling into yours as you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Get some sleep, pretty girl,” he ordered in a whisper, giving your cheek one last kiss before he was nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, your arms crossed over his shoulders as he laid on top of you, his warmth lulling you to sleep.

Cut to this morning, the three of you now famished and exhausted, having spent the last four hours hiking through the Wyoming woods in search of Jackson.

“Woah, what’s that?” Ellie pointed ahead at the small man-made dam used to generate electricity through the river.

“That right there is a hydroelectric power plant,” Joel responded, impressing you.

“A hydro-who?” she questioned with her face scrunched up, making you laugh.

“It uses the river’s movement, and turns it into electricity,” he elaborated, glancing over at you with an amused half-grin.

“How’s it do that?”

“Look, I know what it is, I don’t know how it does it,” he replied in a short tone as the three of you walked up the stairs leading to the top of the damn.

You and Joel took a look around, trying to find a way to cross the river, but the only safe bet was to open the dam, providing a platform for them to walk across. The only issue was that one of you would need to sacrifice your dry clothes and swim in the fifty-three degree water to get to the other side first, so that you could rotate the dam to open it.

“I’ll do it,” you begrudgingly volunteered, Joel’s brows furrowing in protest but before he could open his mouth to speak, you were already headed towards the water. Sucking in a few quick breaths of courage, you stepped in, shivering at the icy cold of the fall Wyoming air and water surrounding you. You swam quickly over to the cement ledge, tugging yourself out of the water and hissing at the breeze against your drenched clothes. “Fuck…”

“Just work on openin’ it, darlin,” Joel encouraged from across the running river, clearly worried for you but not wanting to show it. You gathered the strength to rotate the wheel until your side of the dam was opened, Joel and Ellie quick to run across it to you. Joel set down his backpack and pulled out a flannel, handing it to you. “S’all I got, but it’s better than nothin’.”

You nodded, grateful for the warm material. Joel ordered Ellie to turn around to give you some privacy and did the same, although the fidgeting of his hand against his thigh told you he was having to fight the urge to take a peek. You shucked off your thermal long sleeve and sports bra, let them slap against the cement with a wet squelch before tugging on his flannel. You opened your backpack that dangled off Joel’s shoulder, his body tensing as he felt you so closely behind him.

“I have a dry pair of jeans,” you clarified in a soft, near whisper as you zipped your bag up and stepped back to shimmy out of your wet jeans and into the dry pair, forgoing underwear. You couldn’t do anything about your wet socks and boots, but with Joel’s scent now wrapped around you, it was hard to find anything to complain about. “Alright, I’m good.”

Joel and Ellie turned around, and you couldn’t help but notice how pleased he looked seeing you in his flannel. You allowed yourself to wonder whether or not his mind flipped back to the memories of you padding around his apartment in his button-downs after spending the night like yours was. Judging by his fluster, you were pretty certain it was.

“A-alright, let’s hurry up,” he ordered, walking off to lead the two of you. With a subtle smirk on your face you followed him, Ellie grumbling from beside you.

“I’m hungry.”

“I know, I am too,” Joel groaned back as you reached an old power plant, the thought of having to overcome another obstacle to get to Jackson making your body ache with exhaustion.

“Great,” you sighed, earning Joel’s attention. “How are we supposed to get around this?”

“Just go through it,” he suggested, reaching for the large metal gate doors but quickly realizing they were locked from the inside.

The sound of guns cocking from the watchtowers above the gate had the three of you looking up with wide eyes, three guns pointed at you.

“Don’t even think about reaching for your gun. Tell the girl to drop hers. Now!” A blonde woman commanded from your right, both you and Joel sticking your hands up in surrender while Ellie continued pointing her pistol at the woman.

“Ellie…do as the lady says,” Joel ordered and Ellie begrudgingly obeyed.

“Please tell me you’re lost,” the woman spoke more calmly now, your eyes turning to Joel, hoping that he’d do the talking.

“We didn’t know the place was occupied,” he replied. “We’re just trying to make our way through.”

“Through to where?” she was quick to question, her eyes scanning both you and Ellie, seemingly intrigued by the three of you.

“They’re alright,” a husky voice with an accent similar to Joel’s announced as he unlocked and opened the metal gate. Your eyes softened as you took in the familiar face of Tommy Miller, Joel’s little brother.

“Wait, you know these people?”

“Know him,” Tommy replied as he eyed Joel, not appearing to remember you. “That’s my goddamn brother.”

You watched as Joel and Tommy squeezed each other in a tight embrace, the kind that seemed to wash all their bad history away. It made you smile, the sight of the men together after the way they left it four years ago.

“And you…I remember you,” Tommy turned to you with a half-smile. “Nice to see you and my brother finally realized y’all were in love.”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced at you with a blush, the sight making you chuckle.

“This is Maria,” Tommy introduced you to the woman that had the three of you at gunpoint just a minute ago as she joined you all in front of the gate. “Be nice to her, she sorta runs things ‘round here.”

“Ma’am,” Joel started, obviously still a bit cautious of the woman. “Thanks for not blowin’ my head off.”

“Would’ve been embarrassing…considering you’re my brother-in-law,” she looked to Tommy with the an almost undetectable smirk. Joel’s surprised eyes turned to Tommy, the younger Miller shrugging.

“We all gotta get wrangled up at some point,” Tommy added before nudging his head towards you. “I see y’all two went and adopted a love child.”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that,” Joel glanced at you with a flicker of a smile, his eyes soft as he watched you chuckle.

“Ellie, right?” Maria looked at her, Ellie nodding in confirmation. When Maria’s eyes met yours, you gave her your name, earning a smile from the mildly-intimidating woman. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you and Ellie said at the same time.

Your eyes scanned the inside of the plant as Maria and Tommy led the three of you, showing you around, both of them clearly and rightfully proud of the progress they’d made so far.

Ellie spotted a horse being saddled and looked at you with hopeful eyes, your shoulders shrugging as you gestured to Tommy and Maria.

“Woah! You guys got horses.” She beamed at the sight.

“We gotta whole lot of ‘em,” Tommy confirmed. Ellie skipped over to the horse and started to stroke it’s mane while the four of you watched her. A guy working on applying a horse shoe off to the side called out for Tommy to come give him a hand, leaving you, Joel, and Maria to watch as Ellie admired the mare.

“Can I?” she asked before reaching to pet the horse, Maria nodding with a smile.

“Of course. He likes when you pet his ears,” she added. “Ever ride one?”

“I actually have,” she replied cooly, as though she were a pro.

“When have you ridden a horse?” Joel asked as the two of you stood side by side, his hand resting on your lower back to rub gentle back and forth motions against it. The rest of the conversation became mute as your body lit up from his warm touch, your mind turning to mush.

“Alright, let’s continue the tour,” Tommy announced as he returned, leading the three of you with Maria into the actual plant building.

As you walked past him, Joel couldn’t resist whispering to you, “You look good in my shirt.”

“Do I?” You chuckled, pinching at the material that you felt was the least flattering thing you’d worn in years, but somehow also your favorite. Joel nodded, one corner of his mouth curling up as he followed you further into the building.

“Maria,” Maria’s walkie went off before the five of you could get far, making her sigh.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“We’re in the control room,” the man on the other side of the walkie chirped. “Steve’s about to start it back up. You wanna come check it out?”

She sighed again, looking to Tommy. “I’d rather go eat with the girls.”

“It’s my turn anyways, I’ll go,” he offered.

“I’ll come with you,” Joel interjected, earning a pout from Ellie. “Go get some food in ya.”

“Joel,” she groaned.

“C’mon, El. Let’s give them some space,” you wrapped your arm around her shoulder and walked her off with Maria leading the two of you, Joel tipping his head at you before leaving with Tommy.

Though you wanted to protest to his absence as well, you knew how much the two of them needed some time alone right now. They had so much to talk about, so much to address, and they deserved to do it privately.

“So…you and Joel, huh?” Maria spoke as she led you all to the plant’s kitchen, ladling some stew into three bowls for each of you. “He seems like a real peach.”

“I think you know full well what it’s like to love a Miller,” you joked as you pulled up a seat at the table beside Ellie, Maria setting your bowls down.

“You knew Tommy back in the day?” she asked as she sat herself down, your head nodding in response since your mouth was busy scarfing down the maybe too-hot stew. “Was he the ladies man he claims to be?”

“Oh, they were too cool for me back then. I wouldn’t know,” you chuckled, wiping your mouth. “I just remember him as being the more outgoing one of the two.”

“What was Joel like?” Ellie asked, earning a nod of interest from Maria, both of their eyes on you.

“Polite, I guess. Sort of how he is with you, I guess,” you gestured to Maria. “Took three years for us to go from acquaintances to whatever we were.”

“Were?” Maria asked with a crease of her brow, her head tilted to the side.

“Were, are…who knows,” you chuckled again, this time more nervously and busied yourself with another spoonful.

“They’re totally in love,” Ellie chimed in and watched as your eyes rolled. “Sleep in the same sleeping bag every night, cuddled up like two teenagers—“

“Ellie,” you gently scolded through a chuckle, embarrassed that she not only noticed your new sleeping arrangement but also made it public knowledge.

“Well, he looks at you like you’re the only person around,” Maria commented with a smirk. “I don’t know him too well, but I can guess pretty confidently that he doesn’t go around handing out smiles like that with everybody.”

“Nope,” Ellie confirmed. “Still like pulling teeth trying to get him to laugh at my jokes, and I’m fucking hilarious.”

You and Maria laughed at her confidence before your mind started to travel back to thoughts of him.

He still hadn’t come close to saying he loved you, and although you appreciated the observation, a part of you worried that talking about it too much would only jinx everything. After all, it had been two years of waiting and three months of traveling together and nothing. Maybe it wasn’t you reading it wrong, maybe it was him. Maybe he was just oblivious to the implications of his affections, not realizing the way you, or anyone around you would perceive his gentleness towards you.

After your meal, Maria resumed the tour of the grounds, but before the three of you could even get out out of the room that looked like it used to be an office area, sirens sounded in the plant.

“God, must be bandits,” she sighed and frantically reached for her walkie while pointing to one of the offices. “There, we can lock ourselves inside!”

You rushed Ellie into the room with Maria behind you, your heart pounding with adrenaline and concern over Joel.

“Tommy, bandits broke into the building!” Maria hurried into the walkie as gunshots rang outside the walls. As Tommy tried to answer, the walkie cut out, earning a frustrated grunt from Maria as she tapped it against her palm in hopes of fixing it. When it was clear it wasn’t working, she turned her focus to Ellie, pointing at the locker. “Ellie, hide!”

Ellie willingly obeyed, shutting herself in the locker while you and Maria cowered and hid underneath a desk, pistols drawn in case someone managed to break through the locked door.

Thankfully, within ten or fifteen minutes, the gunshots had ceased and Tommy was calling out from the other side of the door. Maria was quick to open it, Ellie stepping out of the locker room and rushing ahead of you to Joel with a look of pure excitement.

“Joel!” She practically ran right into him as she started to speak frantically, his hands resting on her shoulders to calm her as his eyes flitted to your shaken ones, the scare clearly rattling you. Her retelling of the events went largely unheard by Joel as he split his attention between the two of you, but he continued to nod at her anyways.

“Slow down,” he finally managed to interrupt her. “Are you hurt?”

Your attention was pulled to Tommy, his head shaking as he whispered something to Maria, the two of them walking outside together.

“What’s that about?” you asked in a small voice as you finally got your feet to move from the spot they were planted in, reaching Joel and Ellie. Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his only tell, and shrugged. “Joel.”

“El, why don’t you go on and have a look at the other horses. We’re right behind ya,” Joel ordered and Ellie glanced at you before obeying, heading outside.

“Whats going on?” Your brows creased, watching him as he shifted his weight from one hip to the other, tucking his thumbs in his belt.

“Tommy’s taking Ellie the rest of the way,” he finally spoke, his eyes on the ground. The crease in your brows deepened at you stared at him in pure confusion. This wasn’t the plan.

“What?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “What the fuck do you mean Tommy’s taking Ellie?”

“Calm down—“

“Calm down?” You scoffed at him and shook your head as you looked around the room, pointing at the dead bandits in the hallway. “Nothing about the past thirty minutes has given me a reason to be calm, Joel. And now you’re telling me that the girl I’ve spent the last three months risking my life to protect, the girl that I’ve grown to see as a daughter—you’re handing her off to your little brother? Where the fuck are you going? Where the fuck am I going in all this?”

“You don’t have any idea—“

“No! I don’t! You make damn sure of that, don’t you?” You shook your head and chuckled darkly at his audacity, walking away but stopping short of the door. “You want to abandon her? Go ahead. But I will not. That girl means the world to me—and you know what, it’s my fault for ever mistakingly thinking that she meant the same to you. All these years spent by your side…I should’ve known better to think you could care about any fucking one but yourself.”

“Hey!” He called out to you but you ignored him, walking out into the yard to see Tommy and Maria also in a fight, though theirs seemed less relationship-ending.

“Everything okay?” Ellie approached you gently, ever the emotionally aware little girl. You nodded, though the redness of your eyes surely told a different story.

When Joel joined the two of you, you purposely turned your head in the opposite direction, too angry to look him in the eyes.

“What’s that all about?” she asked Joel, his eyes turning to look at his younger brother and sister-in-law mid-argument, a sigh being his only acknowledgment that she’d spoken. “That have anything to do with me?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” he snapped. You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at your lap. It went unseen by you, but Joel shot you a warning glare, begging you to keep your opinions to yourself for the time being.

“Did he tell you where the lab was?” She continued her inquiry, the entire conversation making you sick to your stomach knowing that by tomorrow, he’d be gone.

“We’ll talk about it later.” His voice was slow and stern, repeating what he’d just said.

“Later…” she scoffed, shaking her head. “Right.”

You watched as she walked away, but were too consumed by the argument happening only a few yards away to keep watch over her. After a few more quiet exchanges, Maria was stomping over to Joel, pointing her finger into his chest.

“You,” she started, nearly as angry as you were. “Anything happens to him and it’s on you.”

Joel nodded, his eyes flickering to your teary ones.

“I’ll take that girl of y’all’s to the Fireflies,” Tommy announced in a defeated tone. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout it.”

“I’m going with,” you declared confidently, though your hands still shook with emotion. Tommy gave you a strange look before turning to Joel, seemingly expecting him to interject but he didn’t, his eyes still locked on the dirt beneath his feet.

“Well, alright the—“ Tommy’s walkie cut him off with a crackle. “What? Say that again, I didn’t hear ya.”

You and Joel started off towards the building but Tommy called out before you could get even a foot away.

“Joel, that girl of yours took a horse and ran off.”

Your wide eyes met Joel’s and he sighed.

“Damn it, which way?” You watched as him and Tommy ran towards the horses, Joel ordering you to stay put when you tried to join them. “Don’t wanna lose both of y’all out there.”

“Whatever,” you scoffed and watched as he rode off, practically shaking from all the fear and insecurity boiling inside you.

Not only was he abandoning the two of you, but now because of his treachery, Ellie was out there all alone with god knows what lurking.

“Hey,” Maria approached you as you stood frozen, staring at the gate Joel just rode through. “C’mon. I got a room for you at our house in Jackson.” You looked reluctant but she persisted, nudging your side. “Us Miller women gotta stick together.”

“I’m not Joel’s wife. I’m not Joel’s anything, apparently,” you mumbled, forcing a frown onto her face.

“C’mon, it’s getting dark soon. It’s a warm bed, a shower, food…privacy,” she offered, her sincerity finally winning you over. You nodded your head and earned a small, quick smile from her, her hand pointing at a couple ATVs across the yard. “You know how to work one?”

“Yeah,” you croaked, following her towards the two quads and hopping on one.

“Good. Faster we get there, the faster we can cry.”

“Alright,” Maria clapped her hands as she opened the door to her and Tommy’s renovated two-story home. You admired the first non-run down place you’d seen in years as Maria led you down the hallway of the first floor, pointing out the bathroom before opening the door right across from it. “This will be y’all’s room,” she watched as you reacted to the thought of sharing a bed with Joel after what he did. “Or yours. Whichever.”

“Thanks, Maria. Seriously. You’ve been so kind to me—to all of us,” you gestured around at the bedroom. “It means a lot.”

“It’s no problem,” she assured with a smile before pointing her thumb back towards the hallway. “I’ve gotta go check on the builders working on the town’s newest project—a tavern, believe it or not. But feel free to make yourself at home. Regardless of you and Joel’s situation, you’re welcome here. Alright?”

You nodded your head, wishing that you could give her a better smile but truthfully, all you wanted to do right now was scream and cry, Joel’s dark cloud of a decision crushing what little joy you had left inside.

The minute you heard the front door close, your tears all came to surface in a breathless sob, your eyes squeezing shut as you sat down on the mattress, your head falling into your hands as you finally let out a gasp for air.

Why was this man so dead set on pushing everyone away? And why did you still love him anyway?

Reaching for the pillow, your sadness turned to frustration. You pressed the pillow to your face and screamed into it, thankful for the opportunity to have the tantrum you’d been meaning to have for the last three months.

This was what loving him did to you. It was seemingly all it did.

Flopping over onto the mattress, you punched it like you so desperately wanted to punch sense into him. You don’t have to abandon everything good for you, you wanted to scream at him until his ears bled, you can let us love you.

It was an hour or so later, your voice now nearly gone after screaming for so long, the rage gone as well. Now, you sat in the living room, staring at the TV playing an old western that brought you a bit of comfort, the gruff cowboy on the screen reminding you of your own.

When the door clicked open, you expected it to be Maria, but instead heard the chuckles of Joel, Ellie, and Tommy, the three discussing an apparent clicker ambush they must’ve encountered out there in the thick of it. Your brows creased at the sight of Joel so unabashedly happy, unsure of how or why things changed in the hours since you’d last seen him. The sight of him and Ellie happy made you happy, but…it also made you feel incredibly out of the loop.

“Hey,” Ellie greeted you, her smile faltering as she took in your swollen eyes. “Joel and I talked it through.”

“Oh yeah?” you replied, your eyes flickering to Joel’s as he stood behind her, both of them looking shocked by your hoarse rasp.

“Yeah,” he nodded, sitting down beside you. “The three of us are headin’ to Utah in the mornin.”

“You’re…you’re coming?” you asked, unabashed in your shock. Joel’s mouth curled up as he looked to Ellie, her eyes glued to the TV.

“Yeah,” he turned to you with a nod, his hand reaching over to rest on your thigh. “That alright with you?”

You rolled your eyes at him, mildly irritated that he thought he could come back with a smile and all would be forgiven…and mildly irritated that he was right.

“El, why don’t you go with Tommy for a little so we can talk,” Joel suggested, earning a pout from the teenager.

“C’mon,” Tommy called. “If you hurry, we might be able to get. few shots up at the gun range.”

“Oh hell yeah!” She practically ran out the door with him, Joel chuckling as he watched them leave. When the door clicked shut, he turned to you, his finger reaching to brush across your jaw. “You alright?”

You nodded, swallowing the truth. But in all honesty, sitting here beside him, his smile and the fireplace warming you up, you were alright. Regardless of the fight you had or the crying fit that occurred afterwards, you’d always be alright when he was with you like this. When he allowed himself to be the Joel you knew and loved.

“Come on,” he tipped his head towards the bathroom. “Let’s get cleaned up. Been a hard few weeks.”

You slipped your hand into his, allowing him to walk you to the bathroom.

He took his time in undressing you, his rough hands soft in nature against your skin as he slid his flannel that you’d been wearing since earlier off your shoulders, his eyes combing over your naked form for the first time since your breakup back in Boston. His hands touched you reverently, as though he was trying to memorize you by heart.

“I’m still upset,” you announced in a hoarse whisper, Joel’s head nodding in acknowledgment.

“As you should,” he husked, his hands now working on your jeans unbuttoning them before lowering to his knees to tug them down your hips and legs. You stepped out of them before tugging him back up, your hand resting on his cheek. He lifted it off, kissing your palm and looking into your eyes. “I was an ass.”

“And?”

Joel chuckled and started on his own clothes, peeling them off much quicker and gracelessly than he did yours.

“And an idiot.”

“And?”

Joel pulled you into the running shower, the two of you surprised by the not-quite hot but not far from cold water. He held you close from behind, his hands hesitant but desperate nonetheless as they hugged your waist. You let your eyes drift closed as his beard scratched against the back of your neck, the tickle quickly followed by the soft press of his lips.

“And I’m sorry,” he husked. “Should’ve talked to you first. I just…it’s hard for me…bein’ around her.”

“Because she’s a kid? Can’t protect herself?” you questioned, reaching for the bar of soap and turning around to lather it against his chest. Joel watched your face as you watched the suds form under your palm on his scarred skin, your fingertips reacquainting themselves with the topography of his body.

“Because she reminds me of Sarah.” His sincerity forced your eyes to his, your lashes batting at him as you watched him closely, trying to read his mind for the words he left unspoken.

“That’s not a bad thing, Joel.” His hazel eyes closed, his forehead leaning to rest against yours as your hands traveled lower, scrubbing off the dirt and sweat that had accumulated in the weeks since his last shower. “She looks up to you like a dad, too, you know?”

“That just scares even more,” he confessed in a whisper.

“That’s why I’m here,” you reminded him, and Joel pulled back enough to watch your sudsy fists pump his half-hard cock, stroking him to full hardness. “To help.”

“Gimme the soap. I gotta get you clean before we end up forgettin’ why we came in here in the first place.”

You chuckled and handed the bar over, Joel’s eyes locked on your breasts as he lathered the soap in his hands before massaging the suds into your skin, devoting special attention to your breasts. You hummed as he cradled their weight in his hands, his eyes lifting to yours to give you a smile.

“I wish you’d just realize how much we care about you,” you confessed, reaching for his face. “How much we want you around.”

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he promised, lowering his hands to your waist and stomach to clean the rest of your torso before he was turning you around his lips pressing against your pulse as his hands slid up your back, massaging your tense muscles until you were spilling soft moans into the shower. “Feel good, baby?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed lazily, reaching for the bar of soap again to lather some onto your hands so that you could clean the more delicate areas while Joel did the same for himself.

A few minutes later, the water now frigid, you and Joel stepped out of the tub and wrapped yourselves up in towels. He held his hand out for you and walked you across the hall into the bedroom.

“Wait—“ You froze as Joel stood right beside the bed, causing his brow to furrow. “I need a second. I’m…nervous.”

“Why?” he asked softly, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

“Today has been a whirlwind, and on top of that…it’s been so long for us,” you croaked. “I’ve dreamt about this for…half a fucking year, Joel.”

“So have I.” He placed one hand on your waist, the other cradling your face. “We don’t have to—“

“No, I want to. I really want to. I just…can we take it slow?” Joel smiled softly, just a flicker, at you and nodded, his thumb stroking over your skin.

Breathing in a breath of courage you undid your towel and let it fall the the floor, the air cold around you causing your nipples to pebble. Joel sucked in sharply at the sight, his hands reaching to hold the weight of your breasts again, eyes flickering to yours to make sure what he was doing was okay. Your brows creased from the pleasure of his rough thumbs over your nipples, a soft moan slipping from your lips and into the air. Joel’s towel began to form a tent as he watched your lips part, imagining them wrapped around his girth.

“Can I…” He moved to slide his hand lower, down your stomach to the patch of hair above your center. You nodded eagerly, lowering your eyes to watch his hand slowly sink down to your wetness, an exhaled groan falling from his lips at the feeling of your slick warmth. “Fuck…missed how wet you get for me.”

You whimpered at his confession, finally finding the old confidence you used to possess in the bedroom and walked him back until he was sitting on the mattress. Joel’s breath hitched as you sank to the floor in front of him, sitting between his open thighs and unfolding his towel to unveil his cock.

“Baby,” he choked out, his neck straining as your gripped him with both hands, pumping his velvet smooth length to full hardness before dribbling spit onto it. Joel groaned, tossing his head back as your spit lubricated your strokes, his hands finding your hair and gathering it in his fist. “That’s it, baby…just like that. Feels so good.”

You couldn’t help but grin as you listened to him, your mind flipping back in time to all the nights spent beside him in Boston. All of the hurt since then, all the pain and rejection and insecurity floated away into nothingness as you watched his face screw in pleasure, his hips bucking into your fists to meet your slow strokes.

“I love you, Joel,” you confessed, earning his gaze. “And it’s okay if you can’t say it back. I…know you love me in your own way.”

Joel shook his head, leaning forward to cup your face with both hands, his lips only a few inches from yours.

“I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, darlin. I’m…sorry it took so long for me to say it. But I do. I love you.” You let out a strangled chuckle, overwhelmed by the words you so longed to hear finally coming out of his mouth. Pushing him back again, you used one hand to hold him in place while your lips wrapped around him, Joel’s moan threatening to shake the walls as he laid all the way back, your free hand intertwining with his on his thigh. “Fuck…fuck, it’s so good, baby.”

You hummed against him as you sucked him in time with your fist, stroking him until you felt his precum dribble onto your tongue. Joel gently tugged you off and helped you onto his lap, cradling your face with one hand while gripping your hip with the other, his lips finding yours for a sloppy, desperate kiss.

“I need to feel you,” you whispered against his mouth, earning a groan as you reached back to line him up with your dripping heat, Joel looking into your eyes as you sank down onto him. Both of you shivered at the feeling of being joined again, his hands gripping at your hips once you were fully seated. You wrapped your arms around his neck and scratched at his damp scalp, smiling down at him. “You’re so beautiful, Joel.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his arms sliding around your waist to hug you close, pulling you back with him as he laid against the mattress, your chest pressed into his. “So perfect.”

You didn’t say anything in response, choosing to kiss him soft and slow while you lifted your hips, Joel’s moans being caught by your lips as you sank back down onto him, the head of his cock hitting something devastating inside of you.

“You feel so good,” you mumbled against him in a whimper, Joel’s hands moving to grip the flesh of your ass to help guide your motions. “You always make me cum so fast.”

“God, I miss feelin’ how you squeeze me,” he mumbled back, using his strength to slam you up and down onto his cock.

“Fuck,” you whined, burying your face in his neck. Joel hummed against you, stilling your hips so that he could piston up into your dripping pussy, sinful squelching sounds filling the room as he targeted your g-spot like an expert. You reached down in between your bodies and rubbed your clit, your eyes screwed shut as the pleasure verged on too much. “Joel, fuck. I think I’m gonna squirt.”

Joel growled at your warning, slamming into that same spot harder and faster until you were crying out into his neck, your screams being muffled by his skin.

“Go on, baby. Soak me. Make me smell like you for days,” he urged, the pure animalistic request being all that you needed to finally let go. You shook in top of him, your pussy soaking his lap as you came for him. “There you go…so tight I can’t even pull out.”

“Then don’t,” you pled, lost in the euphoria of your climax.

Joel had never came inside of you before. It was too risky in this world. There was no room for a baby with all of this violence and carnage, no space for a family in all of this desolation and dread. But much to your surprise, and admittedly your delight, Joel did as you asked, spearing into you all the way one last time before he was cumming, his teeth biting a mark into your shoulder to quiet his cries of pleasure, his arms squeezing so tightly around your waist you almost worried he’d crush you.

“Fuck…” he panted, soothing the bite marks on your skin with his kisses. “Haven’t done that since…since a long time ago.”

“I’m surprised you actually did it,” you chuckled, kissing his neck and bearded jaw.

“You alright with it?”

“Of course,” you lifted your head, looking down at him with a lazy grin. “You’re the only person I’d risk that for.”

“Same here,” he smiled back before rolling you onto your back and pulling out of you. “Stay put, I’ll get a rag.”

You nodded in agreement and laid there with a goofy smile, completely content in every sense of the word. Joel was yours again, and you were his. No matter what happened for the rest of your life, you could die happy knowing that he loved you.

“Probably should go fetch Ellie,” Joel spoke softly as he returned with a washcloth and cleaned up the mess between your thighs before doing the same to himself.

You were half asleep when he returned from tossing the rag, making him chuckle. He readjusted you so that you were laying on the mattress the right way, gently laying your head on a pillow before tugging his flannel onto your body.

“I’ll be right back, sweet thing,” he whispered into your hairline as he placed a kiss there, your head nodding in a show of comprehension. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

“Come back soon.”

“I will,” he pecked your lips and gave you one last lingering look before heading back out into the world with a new spring in his step.

Perhaps it was possible to be happy in love in this world after all. Either way, he’d long given up trying to fight it. He loved you, and he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make up for all the lost time he spent pushing you away.

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[rainintheevening]

Susan Anna Pevensie

No one else could have picked out the tremor in those graceful loops of ink, but she did. He did.

His hand, as he took the pen, was warm, and she caught his whisper as he bent down: "See there, you are an artist. What do I keep telling you?"

She smiled, just a little.

He signed and dated, and she leaned into his hip, grateful, throat aching as she wrapped her fingers tighter around the bouquet in her lap. Five white lilies, and two red roses, and forget-me-nots all around.

They would drive out to the cemetery afterward. Fred had been the one to suggest it, to let her know it was alright, even natural, to remember the dead on a day celebrating new life.

She looked up, sat straighter as he laid down the pen and made room for the witnesses to step in.

Fredrick Maxmillian Pilkington

She let herself smile at the dreadful, smudged left-handed signature. "No, that's what tells me you're the artist, dear."

"I suppose I'll have to choose which name to put on the paintings," he said thoughtfully. "Ah, Pilkington for the bad ones, Pevensie for the good ones, I suppose."

And when her eyes filled up with tears, she felt his arm around her shoulders, and his kiss in her hair, and she closed her eyes, thinking I don't deserve him. I don't deserve him at all. How did he ever come to choose me?

She was so uncertain about things, so careful and guarded and prickly. She had very nearly driven him away twice. But he had come back, he had stayed in her life, and now he was choosing to be in it for the rest of it.

As long as we both shall live.

Susan closed her eyes as their lips found each other, let the tears spill down her cheeks.

I don't think I deserve it, she was saying in her heart. But I choose you back. I choose you too.

The tears didn't show in the pictures, only her standing there in Mother's old wedding dress, clutching her flowers, and Fred in his old uniform, arms around her waist, resting his chin on her head.

*

Susan, from the Hebrew Shoshana/Shoshan, meaning lotus flower or lily, also suggestive of purity and beauty. The name of Dr. Susan Crocker, a pioneering physician. The name of Susan B. Anthony an American suffragist. The name of Susan Hiscock, MBE, who crewed with her husband aboard their sailing ship.

A name, before it's explosion of popularity c. 1930, characterized by several poets, societal reformers, physicians, journalists, and freethinkers.

*

It was his suggestion, taking her name on the end of his.

"Look, I've got five older brothers, Lord knows there's enough Pilkingtons in the world. We aren't rich, we aren't titled, honestly, I'm not sure my parents would even notice if I went and became a Communist. They won't mind. I'd be honoured to carry on the Pevensie name, and no mistake."

Susan had thought of her father, how she'd brushed him off, ignored his advice, called him old and 'stuck in tradition'. She hadn't said anything mean when she'd left for America, but she certainly hadn't said anything kind or particularly loving.

She'd come back after the accident, come back to England with one suitcase and a hatbox, and never even considered leaving again.

How could she leave when all that had really mattered was here? Here but gone. All gone to ghosts, holes in the fabric of her reality, in the space of an empty armchair, a silent kitchen, rumpled sheets on a bed, unfinished letters, overdue library books.

Fred had been the first real, solid thing in her life After.

And she couldn't help thinking how her father would like him. All this time, and she still cared what he thought, wished he could have been there to walk her down a church aisle– She tried not to think too hard about that.

"Fredrick Maxmillian Pilkington Pevensie. That's as posh a name as my mother could possibly wish for." Fred had taken her hand, let his grin fade down to a soft smile. "But only if it's alright with you, love."

To her knowledge, Peter had been quite comfortable as a bachelor, but Ed had been close to engaged (she'd found the ring in his sock drawer); they would both have been wonderful fathers, both would have liked Fred.

She'd wiped her cheeks. "Sorry, I keep thinking I'll stop crying one of these days."

"Doesn't have to be today," he'd said, passing over a hanky.

"I think they'd be honoured," she said at last. "To have it be you. My family name—it's something I share with them, and... I'd be happy to keep it."

"Then keep it you shall."

*

Anna, Latin form of the Hebrew Hannah, meaning favoured one or one shown grace. The name of a prophetess and attendant at the dedication of Jesus who is called Christ in Jerusalem.

"And she coming in that instant gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and spake of him to all that looked for redemption in Jerusalem."

An elderly widow, a faithful worshiper of God in His temple, great in fasting and prayer, one of the first evangelists.

*

The taxi pulled away from the cemetery as the sun set into a bank of rising cloud, and Susan knew that rain was on its way.

But the rain was just as important to the spring as the sunshine, she thought, and shuffled over on the seat to curl into Fred's side.

He patted her knee, left his hand there, warm and heavy. Real. Solid. For all his dreaming artist eyes, Fred was solid, certain, strong enough to hold her on the difficult days, of which there were always more than she wanted.

The ring on her finger was its own kind of heavy, permanent, binding, and she needed that, needed a promise, needed something to quash the fears that choked her in the night.

They took a taxi home on their wedding night, home to the house she'd sworn she couldn't stay in, found she couldn't sell, and so compromised by working two jobs, and hardly ever being there.

Home to the old house she'd grown up in, rebuilt from the bombings, adapted and weathered and haunted by the empty places of people gone.

It had gotten better since Fred. She'd changed things, deliberately, a curtain here and a painting there, opened up the crates and jumbled everybody's books together on the shelves.

As they climbed the steps, she saw the lamp glowed in the front window, with another light shining back in the kitchen, and smiled, thanking Coraline in her heart. Her friend would no doubt be ducking out the back door that very moment, scampering across the back garden, and shimmying through the hedge, as if she were a girl of sixteen, and not a woman of thirty. There would be something warm in the oven, and the kettle waiting on the stove, and two places laid.

"Well, Mrs. Pevensie." Fred put his hand on the doorknob, drew her close against his side. "Shall we?"

Shall we go in? Shall we go into the home that is everything that came before, but is ours now too to make new? Shall we start something? Shall we continue? Shall we come home together?

She stood on her toes, and kissed him with a tremoring smile. "Yes, Mr. Pevensie. With pleasure."

[sandraharissa]

I really absolutely love the idea of LoL Jinx being Jinx’s reputation, or maybe even a crazy persona she intentionally projects onto the world, but not how she really is.

There’s this passage from her game bio that hints at smth sinister and mysterious that happened and sets up the question of ‘what made Jinx the way she is?’.

No one knows for certain what happened to turn that sweet young child into a wildcard, infamous for her wanton acts of destruction.

But when she emerges and makes a name for herself as a terrorist the average citizen would only see her cackling as she blows up buildings and wouldn’t care to ponder this question. Well, her LoL behavior fits the stereotype of a crazy woman and it makes sense that in-universe ppl would perceive her like that and nothing more. She’d kinda become a boogeyman to Piltover/Zaun and they’d see her as such, as this exaggerated caricature of 'crazy'.

Ig what I’m trying to say is that we learn the story chronologically but imagine we first meet adult Jinx and then there are reveals or flashbacks. You’d never believe LoL Jinx has this much depth or such a real and tragic aspect to her. It could be a fantastic story on its own. So new characters having this kinda arc with Jinx where they first hear/see the fake persona and then gradually learn the truth about her could be super compelling. I think in a lot of ways it’s way more compelling than e.g. the observant Cait just going back and summing up Jinx to everybody else in Piltover in one sentence like 'her issues are a,b,c' like she watched Arcane alongside us and ig everybody's caught up now, no need to do these revelations through arcs and interactions.

Especially that there’s groundwork for this type of reveals with already established characters like Cait, Vi and Ekko. The story is intentionally constructed so that they don’t have nowhere near as much of an insight into Jinx that we got, like of course Cait would only see her as a psychopath, she investigated her crimes for months, nearly died in the explosion, saw her violent behavior during the reunion and bridge scenes and then got kidnapped and then witnessed her blowing up the government with her mom inside. And this sentiment also applies to everyone who didn’t know Powder and isn’t the audience. But even Vi and Ekko don’t seem to know enough to understand what’s going on. They knew Powder but as far as we know they have next to no interactions with her after she becomes Jinx and mainly just see her from her violent side and also from a distance.

Idk if this comparison makes sense but I get the impression that ppl’s takes on mcu Loki depend on whether they remember the events of Thor 1, and based on that they see him as tormented and complicated or a cartoon psychopath villain. So that’s kinda what I mean. LoL Jinx is if you skipped the set-up movies and went straight into Avengers and Arcane Jinx is if you watched everything chronologically and have full context for a character’s behavior. And while we already know enough to understand why Jinx became Jinx, it’s still a crucial and lingering question cos it’s a questions a lot of characters ponder and they never got that answer in s1. So s2 could explore their perspective, seeing Jinx only behaving like a maniac until finally getting answers to their questions.

Ig my point is that Arcane is clearly going in a different direction so I don't expect or want the characters to end up being identical to their game counterparts but I also find the idea that Jinx masks herself with an exaggerated crazy persona more compelling than the idea that she is perceived by everyone in s2 exactly as she is, even tho a huge part of s1 is how misunderstood she is by everyone around her and how she leans into her strengths and into how ppl perceive her for empowerment.

[writing-blocked-me]

Eglantine

Eglantine - I wound to heal

Number 4 of my flowers drabble/one-shot series Main Masterlist - Flowers Masterlist

CW: Mafia dealings, mentions of violence, trauma, angst?, spoilers for the light novels 15 and Stormbringer, episode 61 spoilers, a bit OOC methinks, no dialogue (tell me you can't write speech without telling me you can't write speech lmao), idk what else to place here.

Pairings: Chuuya x Reader

Author's Note: Haven't uploaded in SOOOOO long, which is my bad.  It was exam season, then a lot of stuff happened and uni is a lot - shoutout to everyone interviewing for placement years right now.  Anyway, hoping to write a bit more this time around.  So, yeah, this is just a short thing I wrote after ep 61 aired, because I love Chuuya.  There may be some vamp!Chuuya content coming soon too lmao.

Enjoy :)

Many tragedies had befallen Chuuya in his life.  He had been a lab rat, tortured and trapped.  He had been betrayed, his first friends, his family, being the ones to stick the knife in his back.  He had met Dazai.  Just when things were looking up, he bore witness to the murder of his closest friends.  He had lost control, almost dying and taking everything with him, succumbing to his singularity.  Multiple times.  

For all the tragedies he had endured, Chuuya was certain he had also caused plenty of tragedy for others, both deserving and undeserving.  Hurting people came with the territory as a Port Mafia member. Delivering calamity was his role, ever since he pledged himself to the mafia.  Chuuya Nakahara, executive of the Port Mafia, former King of the Sheep, bringer of the storm awaited by Verlaine, was capable of so much destruction. 

Sometimes it brought him joy.  Sometimes he felt as if it was a way to get back at the universe, hurt the world back, devastate it as he had been devastated.  It was a way to let out his rage and anger for everything that had happened.  The pain of all he had endured was overwhelming, unbearable at times.  If Chuuya could return even a fraction of that pain, he felt as if he would find some relief.  Sometimes it worked, only temporarily, but, for a moment, he felt as if the scales had been balanced.  Sometimes, most of the time actually, there was no such feeling.

Sometimes he hated it.  Sometimes he hated himself, hated that he enjoyed it, that it didn't fill him with guilt.  It made him feel inhuman, reminded him of how he would never know whether he was truly real, or a copy of someone else, designed only to be a vessel.  It drudged up the memories of his past, the violence and horror and sorrow.  His power, the reason he was capable of such destruction, was the result of an experiment.  He was the result of an experiment.  Sometimes he felt that was all he ever would be.  Sometimes he hated that he had to use what made him feel so inhuman.

Chuuya had endured many tragedies.  He had caused many calamities.  He hurt and he healed, over and over. A cycle of pain and sorrow and acceptance.  Chuuya had resigned himself to it, finding small moments where he felt fine.  Never happy, but okay enough, and he had come to terms with that.  It was manageable, the cycle repetitive.  Tragedy, hurt, heal.  He knew what was coming.  

That was, until you came along.

You, who smiled at him and caused an explosion in his chest.  A blossoming warmth that gave him comfort and unease in equal measure.  He wasn't a stranger to caring for others, yet he had never cared for someone like this.  You had consumed his heart, filled his thoughts and given him hope for his humanity.  After all, how could someone be capable of such intense love if they did not have a soul? If Chuuya was so inhuman, how come he had such capacity for love?

At first, he wasn't sure if this emotion was love.  When he had first met you, there had definitely been attraction, but nothing more than that.  Chuuya wasn't stupid.  He didn't believe in things like 'love at first sight', or anything like that.  He knew he didn't love you from the moment he laid eyes on you, as nice as that would have been.  After spending several months getting to know you, spending evenings drinking wine and laughing together, and spending nights in each other's embrace, Chuuya knew it must have been love.  One day, there was a warmth in his chest, felt only with you.  Chuuya loved you.  He was certain.

It was the certainty of his own love that proved your reciprocation.  Chuuya was loyal and, once he'd tied himself to someone (or some people), that was it.  He was bound forever.  It was that way with the Sheep.  He stuck with them, despite their betrayal, inevitably giving Dazai the leverage to induct him into the Port Mafia.  His loyalty was a defining trait, something that never wavered, but it had to be earned.  You had earned his love, through sharing affection, trust and care of your own.  Showing him the love you felt for him solidified his own feelings. Chuuya knew that he loved you, because you loved him.  The devotion you had for him matched his own adoration for you.

Chuuya loved you.  It was why he would collapse into your arms after every tough mission, every rough day at work.  It was why he could relax around you, spending hours in your presence.  It was why he knew that, after every moment he spent apart from you, he could always count on finding solace and respite in your arms.  Even when he was miles from you, in another country, he knew.  As soon as they made their way back, Chuuya, Dazai and the rest of team Meursault.  As soon as he set foot back in Yokohama, his city, he knew you'd be waiting there.

He was right.  The transport Mori had sent for them had only just landed, Chuuya had barely set foot on the ground, when you jumped on him, arms wrapping around his neck, knocking him to the ground.  He felt his arms wrap around you in response, face burying itself in the crook of your neck, collapsing in the comfort of your embrace. He watched as you smiled and laughed and joked, your joy bringing a grin to his own face.  Even as you giggled with Dazai, the bandaged man regaling you with the tale of his prison break, Chuuya's face was the picture of fondness.   His eyes held a softness reserved only for you as you leaned into him, arm wrapped around your waist.  

Many tragedies had befallen Chuuya in his life and Chuuya had been the creator of many tragedies.  He had wounded and healed and wounded again.  However, all of that ceased to exist when he was with you.  Chuuya was able to finally feel more than okay, he was able to feel at home.