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#but its that feeling of just having grown up with somebody
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Can i ask one for Kate Bishop. One where kate and reader's are best friends .they sleep together after being drunk. R is hopelessly in love with her. Everybody including kate knows this but it's like an un spoken thing.katie says doesn't see r like that because obviously she's afraid of losing the friendship if the relationship fails. Tells r that night was a one tym thing . After sometimes start seeing somebody so r will get the idea. So much angst ,heart breaks ,Kate being an idiot ,r being lovesick puppy .and a Happy ending .☺️ Its okay if you can't .Thank you ♥
an inch away from more than just friends [K.Bishop]
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pairing: kate bishop x reader
summary: falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.
warnings: a complete mess of fluff, smut, angst, and idiots in love; kate is HORRIBLE at acknowledging her feelings; drunken hookup in a storage closet {lots of grinding + teasing; r is a brat and kate is annoyed but turned on; small bits of dirty talk}
wordcount: 4k
a/n: I'M ALIVE! sorry for not posting much on here, i've been spending a lot of this past month working on my vampire!kate story so inspiration has been quite limited. i'm thinking about posting more short drabbles but idk how to format them 😅 anyway, i hope you're all doing well and i hope you enjoy <3
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You weren't sure how you had ended up here. You hated parties. Especially ones thrown by rich people who had nothing better to do than spend a ridiculous amount of money on expensive booze and shitty food.
Not to mention, this particular party was being hosted in some skyscraper in downtown New York, which meant no matter how badly you wanted to escape the bustling atmosphere, there was nowhere else to go. Even the balconies that littered the outside were subject to the nonstop sounds of traffic.
At least it was better than being inside and having to sit through endless small talk about things you didn't understand.
A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you lean against the railing, silently watching the cars drive by on the street below you. "There you are."
You turn your head and give Kate a small smile. "Hey."
The archer approaches you, a certain bounce in her step that isn't coming from her normal bubbly personality. 
While you weren't the biggest fan of these types of parties, Kate somehow thrived in them. Sure, she could be awkward most times, and she had a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she was charming. And as much as she hated the rich men who she had to rub elbows with all night, she understood them.
She'd grown up in this life while you...well, you were an outsider. Someone who didn't fit in, no matter how many expensive outfits the young CEO bought you or how many people she argued with.
The only thing you two could agree on was that the best part of these events was the free alcohol.
"How long have you been out here?" Kate asks as she joins you, her side pressing against yours and giving away how tipsy she already is.
"Like twenty minutes," you reply. "It was getting too stuffy in there."
She laughs and you allow yourself to admire her jawline and the way the city lights bounce across her skin. "Tell me about it. I swear I've had the same conversation with everyone."
"I don't know why you still bother coming to these things."
"It's good for the company, I guess," she says with a shrug. "And it gives me an excuse to get dressed up with you."
You roll your eyes at her, hating the way your heart instantly skips a beat at her words. She always gets extra flirty when she drinks. If you were more of an optimist, you might even believe her words had some sort of truth to them. 
"You're an idiot."
She makes a face at you, her features a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "You always say that."
"Because it's true," you say.
"Whatever," she huffs.
The two of you stand there for a few minutes, basking in the closeness of your bodies. It's a small thing, but it's moments like these that remind you just how deep your feelings for the archer run.
The buzz from the alcohol in your system leads you to rest your head on her shoulder without a second thought. Her arm wraps around you in an instant and it's not until that moment that you realize how cold you are.
"Can we leave yet?" You ask in a soft voice. It's a little embarrassing how desperate you are to be away from the bustling party.
"Almost," she replies. "I think you owe me a dance."
You groan, already dreading the looks you'll definitely get. "Do we have to?"
"Yes, we do." She gives your side an affectionate squeeze before pulling away from you. "Just one dance, and then we can leave."
You know better than to trust her words, but you can't pretend dancing with her doesn't sound nice. Clearly, Kate isn't the only one with lowered inhibitions right now.
"Fine," you roll your eyes but reach out for her hand.
Her fingers interlock with yours, and she leads the way to the makeshift dance floor. Thankfully, most people seem too busy in their own conversations to pay attention to the dancing couples...and you and Kate.
It fills you with more bitterness than you'd like, but you try not to dwell on it. It's easier said than done...until her hands land on your waist and pull you close to her. 
"You can come closer, sweetheart, I don't bite."
A nervous laugh escapes you. Mainly because you've listened to enough of her superhero stories to know for a fact she does bite, but also because getting closer to her is the last thing you should do right now.
She makes it far too easy to do, though, so you give in and wrap your arms around her neck.
The two of you start swaying to the soft music being played by the small group of musicians at the front of the room. It's hard not to spend the entire time admiring her features from this distance and as much as you try to ignore it, it's impossible to deny the way your heart flutters in your chest every time you make eye contact with her.
Your silence seems to surprise her, considering the way her eyebrows furrow together. "You okay?"
You nod and try to ignore how close your faces are. "Yeah, just...thinking."
That seems to get her attention and her concerned look turns into a slightly mischievous smile. "Oh yeah? About what?"
"Wouldn't you love to know?" You reply, hoping your attempt at teasing her will help distract her.
It doesn't work and instead of moving on, she wordlessly pulls you closer, her smile turning into a smirk when your eyes widen from the sudden proximity. "Come on, sweetheart, don't get shy on me now."
"You're annoying."
"Is that why you've been staring at my lips this whole time?"
Her words catch you off-guard, but they're not exactly far-fetched. The alcohol in your system mixed with having her so close only equals a long list of bad ideas. You can't deny how enticing those ideas sound, though.
You somehow manage to find your voice long enough to throw her observation back at her. "I think you're projecting, Katie."
"So you don't want to kiss me?"
She's toying with you, you know she is because you've seen her do it countless times, but you can't find it in yourself to really care. You know you shouldn't do it. You try to remind yourself that you're both drunk and simply trying to rile each other up for fun.
That no matter what happens, it won't mean anything. At least, not to her.
The longer you think about it, though, the less the potential consequences matter to you.
"I do," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "But only because it's the only way to shut you up."
You expect her to laugh at you and change the topic, but, of course, she doesn't. Because the only thing Kate loves more than annoying you is taking you by surprise.
In an instant, she closes the distance between your faces, her lips meeting yours in a borderline hesitant kiss. You're certain you've never seen her so nervous before. It's strange but endearing.
More than that, it helps distract you from how nervous you are.
She pulls away from you with a smile so bright that it makes your mind swim. "I guess you were right, kissing me does shut me up."
"Is that your way of trying to convince me to kiss you again?" You ask, doing your best to act nonchalant.
You're not sure that it works very well, but thankfully, she makes no teasing comments about it. She simply steals all your thoughts away by kissing you again.
The fact that you're one step away from fully making out in the middle of the dance floor isn't lost on you. Kate seems to come to the same realization as you at that moment and she reluctantly pulls away from you just to grab your hand and lead you away from everyone's gaze.
You don't know where exactly she's taking you, you just know it's definitely not toward the exit. You'd love to call her out on it and act upset and yet...you don't. How can you when your curiosity is practically eating you alive?
She drags you into the first storage closet she finds, closing the door behind you and pushing you against it. The action steals your breath away, along with the rest of your coherent thoughts.
You weren't going to act like you'd never fantasized about doing this with Kate but you'd always imagined it would happen under different circumstances. Although, if you're completely honest, you can't say you're actually mad about it.
"Hi," you whisper, your eyes drifting down to her lips once more.
"Hey." Her hands find their way back to your waist as she steps forward, effectively trapping you against the door. "Are you...still okay with this? 'Cause we can just leave and act like nothing happened."
You appreciate her thoughtful words even though the fire she started within you is burning far too bright to be put out now. 
"Yeah, I'm okay," you assure her. "I don't think stopping is an option now."
Your words seem to make her hesitation disappear and her smirk instantly makes a comeback. "And why is that, darling?"
"You know why."
Kate leans in closer, one of her hands drifting down to grip your leg and lift it up until it's wrapped around her waist. "Maybe...but I want to hear you say it."
"In your dreams, sweetheart."
You feel incredibly proud of yourself until the archer pushes herself against you, creating the most wonderful friction against your center. The movement catches you off-guard and you let out an embarrassingly desperate moan at the feeling.
The brunette takes advantage of the moment and ducks down to attach her lips to your neck. "I would love to put you in your place but you are far too adorable like this."
Your head tilts back to give her more access to your skin as you struggle to put yourself together long enough to reply to her words. "I wouldn't describe this as adorable."
She chuckles against your skin, the feeling of her warm breath sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. You almost can't believe this is actually happening. For a second, you briefly wonder if you're simply dreaming.
There's no way the pressure of her body against yours isn't real, though. No way for the pleasure you're experiencing to be completely made up by you.
The hand still on your waist gives you a soft squeeze before she guides you against her. There's something slightly humiliating about grinding against her in some random, badly lit, storage closet that only adds to the intensity of the moment.
Kate seems to read your mind considering the way she moves against you, drawing out another barely supressed moan. "You're holding back, y/n/n."
Her teasing words only make you want to tease her right back. Just because you've wanted her like this for a long time doesn't mean you want to make things easy for her. Riling her up is always more fun anyway.
"Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are," you reply, hoping she won't call you out for grinding against her so desperately. 
She has no plan to make things easy on you, though, and as annoying as it is, it's also incredibly attractive. "That's not what your body is saying." 
"How can you be such a dork at a time like this?" 
"It's my talent." 
"Keep telling yourself that." 
She groans, out of annoyance rather than pleasure, but you know your slight defiance is a turn on for her. It's almost funny how someone so bratty gets such a rush out of putting other brats in their place. "I hope you know your attitude is going to cost you later." 
"Don't threaten me with a good time, Katie." 
Her hand finally makes its way up your thigh, and she cups your heated core in one quick move. "How am I the annoying one?" 
You let out a sharp gasp, your hips rocking against her hand with zero shame or hesitation. You're already so close to falling apart, the coil in your stomach embarrassingly close to snapping already. In your defense, it's been a long time since your last hookup. 
"Not so mouthy now, are you, sweetheart?" Her amusement is more than clear and, even though you'd love nothing more than to wipe the smirk off her face, you're a little preoccupied with the mounting pleasure. 
"Kate..." You whimper, attempting to pull her impossibly closer to you. "Fuck."
Her teasing energy is quickly replaced by satisfaction. Satisfaction that motivates her to speed up her movements, effectively replacing all your thoughts with the feeling of her hands on you.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?" She asks, her lips trailing a path from your neck to your jaw.
"Yeah," you reply, your voice a breathless, needy, whisper. "...please."
"Such a good girl. Go on, let me hear you fall apart for me."
Her words are exactly what you need to let go. It's a little embarrassing, and the lack of full contact makes it a little less satisfying than you'd like, but your orgasm crashes into you almost instantly. Your hands grip onto her shoulders as you ride out the waves, her soft whispers guiding you through the overwhelming sensations.
You're shaking and panting and absolutely spent after such a rush of emotions and Kate is right there, holding you close through it all. Somehow, the affection and care she's showing you feels even better than the orgasm you just had.
"You okay, baby?" She asks as she leans back just enough so your eyes can meet again.
You nod, still too shaken to find your voice. 
"You're too cute." 
Despite your breathlessness, she gives you a quick kiss, pouring far too many feelings neither of you want to think about right now into it. The alcohol must be draining from your system because you're already starting to freak out about this.
About how difficult it'll be to act like nothing happened. Like you're not completely in love with your best friend.
There's no way for you to deny it now. Hell, Kate herself can't deny it anymore either.
And yet you both try.
"Do you want to go back to my apartment?" She asks once you're able to pull away from each other.
The intention is behind her words is more than clear and it somehow manages to bring your confidence back. "Only if you let me repay the favor."
"I think we can definitely work something out," she replies with a genuine smile.
That's all you need to take her hand and drag her out of the storage closet. Her laugh rings out in your ears as you make your way to the exit.
True to your word, you spend the rest of the night returning the favor and drawing orgasm after orgasm out of Kate. It's not enough to make you believe you'll be together the way you want to and yet it's more than enough for ythe moment. 
It's more than you ever thought you'd get from her.
Unfortunately, morning comes too quickly and it brings the realization that you severely underestimated how much things would change. How quick Kate would be to sweep everything under the rug and deny it even happened.
It hurts but it's not a complete surprise considering the way the archer reacts to most things.
You manage to work through it, silencing your desires in favor of making her comfortable and keeping her in your life. It's not the healthiest thing in the world but you manage.
Your friendship only suffers for a few days before you're back to normal. No one would even notice anything if it weren't for the major heart eyes you throw her way all the time.
Everyone knows, though. Everyone cares except Kate.
Instead of talking about it like a normal person, she decides to make things worse by getting a girlfriend. You don't even know who she is and the archer doesn't give you any real details, she just mumbles something about a coffee shop and a cute dog.
You've never known Kate to be particularly reserved but she is this time. Not just that, she actively ignores you. Dodging your questions expertly and pretending there's nothing weird about how little time she spends with you.
You had always assumed it would be your feelings that ruined your friendship but Kate managed to ruin everything on her own. It's almost a skill.
Somehow, even as your heart breaks and endless questions swim around your mind, you manage to keep going. More than that, you match Kate's energy and pretend you don't even notice the change in her attitude. You're not sure who's more hurt by that but you don't even care.
You treasure the brief moments you get with her and mentally shout at her every time she cancels another movie night. Her excuses are endless. One day, she tells you she's too busy with Avengers work, the next she's too caught up with Bishop Securities.
The only thing that brings you some sense of comfort is the fact you're not the only one being lied to. Her so-called "girlfriend" gets the same excuses as you, at least that's what Yelena tells you. The Russian has no reason to lie, though, so you believe her and ignore the rising thought of making Kate jealous.
That's the only thing you're able to do: ignore Kate and the feelings you still have for her.
It works for a while...until the archer finds her way back to you.
It's the middle of the night when you hear frantic knocking on your door. You suppress your fear long enough to make it to the door, baseball bat in hand.
You open the door and come face to face with those same blue eyes you've tried not to think about for over a month. "Kate?"
"Hey," she mumbles, nervousness instantly creeping into her voice. "I, um...can I come in?"
You're tempted to say no and slam the door in her face. You're honestly half-way to doing it when you notice the way she's swaying and clutching her side."You're not drunk, are you?" You question.
Your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat but she smiles anyway. "No, I'm unfortunately sober."
You hum in response before stepping aside and letting her come in. There's a voice in the back of your head that warns you not to get caught up in the past. To keep your distance until she, at the very least, apologizes for being such a jerk to you.
Kate manages to make it to your couch without tripping while you lock your door and put the baseball bat back in its usual place. You brace yourself for the uncomfortable conversation that's bound to follow as you follow after her.
"So...what happened to you?"
Her only response for a few moments is a groan and you do your best to stifle your laughter. For someone who's the human embodiment of a golden retriever, she looks a lot like a grumpy cat right now.
"Stupid mission," she grumbles while attempting to stretch her sore muscles. "I don't know where someone can get the money for that many henchmen."
"Says the rich girl," you reply with a smirk.Kate rolls her eyes but some of the tension in her shoulders disappears. 
"Oh, shut up."
Your cross your arms over your chest before raising an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you're in any position to talk to me like that."
A barely noticeable blush spreads across her features. "Sorry," she mumbles. "I just...I've missed talking to you like this."
You wish it didn't but your heart skips a beat at her words. It's stupid considering the fact she's the one who put you guys in this situation yet there's nothing you can do about it. Your heart still belongs to her.
"Is that why you've been ignoring me lately?" You ask, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. "Why are you even here, anyway? I'm sure your girlfriend's worried about you."
Your words cause the smallest of changes in Kate's body language. She hunches down almost as if she's trying to sink into herself and disappear. You've seen her like this far too many times to not know how she's feeling.
"She would be if she didn't hate my guts right about now," she replies with a sigh. "Can't say I blame her, breaking up with her and leaving on a mission isn't the most mature thing to do."
"Wow, you're finally self-aware," you tease her, more out of habit that anything else. "A lot can change in a month, huh?"
The lack of annoyance in your tone allows her to relax again. As much as you might like to be petty, she seems genuinely sorry and upset. "Okay, I deserve that. I've been an asshole to you."
"Yes, you have, but it looks like karma finally caught up with you."
There's an edge of concern to your words that you can't quite hide. She doesn't seem to be in excruciating pain which hopefully means she's not badly hurt but with how stubborn she is, you wouldn't be surprised if she was blatantly hiding a gunshot wound.
Kate chuckles as she leans back against your couch, the movement allows you to search her suit for bloodstains and, thankfully, you find nothing except a couple of tears in the fabric. "Karma's a bitch..but I probably deserved it."
"Probably?" You ask.
"Okay, fine," she grumbles. "I definitely deserved it. It just...seemed like the right thing to do."
You can't hold back the scoff that leaves your lips. "On what Earth was ignoring me after hooking up with me "the right thing to do"?"
She grimaces, the words hitting her a little too hard. You feel a little bad for her even though these are simply the consequences of her own actions. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship. I didn't...I don't want to lose you, y/n. You mean too much to me."
A part of you wants to keep being petty about the whole thing but you've missed her far too much to push her away now. Even though she probably deserves it for being such an idiot.
"You have a very weird way of showing it." You finally allow yourself to close the distance between you two, walking over and taking a seat next to her.
Kate's hand instantly finds its way into yours, her head turning to look at you. There's a thin layer of tears in her eyes that tugs at your heartstrings. "I know...and I really am sorry."
"I know," you reply, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "You're my best friend, Kate, I've always known you're an idiot."
She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything more, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the room.
There's a lot more you both still want to say and yet neither of you makes any attempt at breaking the moment. It's almost comforting how quickly you fall back together like two slightly damaged magnets.
Finally, after minutes go by, Kate allows herself to tell you the truth.
"It's you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's always been you and I'm so sorry I tried to pretend it wasn't true."
Her words bring a wave of relief, and a slight bit of annoyance that you do your best to supress. "Can you just shut up and kiss me before I kick you out?"
She laughs, a real one this time, before leaning forward and stealing your breath with a kiss.
It's not enough to fix all the damage but it's a start. And you're more than happy to flip the page with her.
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kwyoz · 15 days
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i keep wanting to continue watching edgerunners whenever people hype it up again, but i absolutely hate lucy and i think i only got to like episode 3.
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Somebody’s cat just set off the security light and scared the absolute shit out of me lol
#for a little clarification; our light is pretty hard to set off lol#sometimes mabel going out to pee doesn’t set it off and i have to stand on the step and wave my arms so she doesn’t have to pee in the dark#the neighbours’ light will come on if a leaf moves but ours pretty much requires somebody who is 6’+ to be standing right in front of it#so i saw our light come on and i was ready to fight. literally knocked the ottoman over in my haste to get up lmaoooo#only to see this fucking GIGANTIC cat on top of our fence; causing the fence to sway with the weight of its body; looking at me#with the goofiest expression i have ever seen an animal make#and then it just fucking vanished into the night like something in a gothic novel#when i say ‘gigantic’. i feel the need to clarify that this was not a british big cat situation. this was not el chupacabra#this was not even a wildcat or anything. it was just a maine coon or maybe a crossbreed of such#anyway the fact that it set the sensor off was impressive. mabel literally doesn’t set the sensor off most of the time#and she is a dog. a terrier admittedly… but she is kind of tall for a terrier#she weighs 12kg. is that anything?#anyway. if you need me i’ll be closing the curtains because i don’t need the mini heart attack again#i was so ready to brain a grown man with the flycatcher lantern thing that doesn’t work#and instead i get an enormous cat testing the structural integrity of my fence. i mean it’s definitely better but also…… why#personal
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starsofang · 22 days
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART TEN
pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief mentions of death/blood, gaz being a little shit, foreshadowing idk but we gettin into it masterlist
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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“You need new clothes.”
You glanced down at the loose fabrics swallowing your body.
You’d grown a routine of wearing various pieces of the men’s clothing apart from Ghost, given that your own clothes weren’t much to wear at all. They were old and dirtied, practically useless against the changing seasons of the chill that began to shift in the wind.
“We’ve got to stop on the Mainland, gather a few things for travels,” Gaz continued, eyeing the lousy clothes. “Would you like to shop for somethin’ new?”
“Really?” you asked bashfully.
It would be nice to have something of your own, something that was yours. While you weren’t doused in riches and gold back in your village, you had clothing that was to your own comfort and liking.
Men’s clothing was itchier than you liked, even with finer cotton.
“‘Course,” he assured with a warm smile. “Not that it’s not a bit humorous seein’ you wear our clothes for the time bein’, but I’m gettin’ sick of washin’ double the clothes.”
You smiled back at him, feeling a comforting warm burn through you. Gaz may have had his reservations in the beginning, but he was certainly becoming the most welcoming.
At the start, you thought he was cold, just as the rest of them. He was crude with the way he spoke, voice full of venom whenever he’d spoken to you, which was rare. Now, there was an underlying comfort, as if he felt the need to watch over you.
It wasn’t unwelcome, and was rather preferred. If you were going to be willed into this life of deadly chaos by no choice but Price’s own, then having somebody watching your back was certainly something you wouldn’t refuse.
“Clothes would be nice,” you sighed. “Thank you, Gaz.”
“No need,” he dismissed with a hand. “Consider it a loan. I get you new clothes, you owe me next time.”
“Next time?” You deflated, shoulders dropping. “I have no money to return to you, Gaz. Nor anything of consistency.”
Gaz laughed lightly, a hearty laugh that you always found contagious. It was full of life, lovely even.
The brief memory of him mentioning being a prince in his previous years always seemed to make its way back into your mind when you heard it. It wasn’t loud or boisterous like Soap’s, nor quiet and gruff like Price’s. There was a something more proper, more articulated when he laughed.
“You expect clothes for free, dove?” he teased. “I may be a gentleman in practice, but I’m still a pirate. Perhaps we can come up with a negotiation.”
“I have never been good with those,” you confessed with a heavy sigh.
“Mm. Let me think, then.” Gaz’s finger tapped mindlessly at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed in false concentration. As if a light bulb popped in his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I will gift you coins for clothes as well as a few for our agreement. Once we’re on the Mainland, you go off and find me somethin’ I’ll like. If I don’t like it, then you must owe me for the clothes.”
You gawked at him, eyebrows furrowing. Gaz only smiled at you cheekily, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.
“That sounds less like a negotiation and more of a game that I am bound to lose,” you said flatly. He snickered.
“C’mon, birdie. Don’t you like games? Everyone does.” He leaned in close as if to mock you, hunching down to your level. You could feel his warm breath fan over your nose and cheeks.
The sudden proximity made you tighten up at the abruptness, taking a step back. His eyes flickered to your feet before back up at you. Something mischievous oozed from him, and it felt like Soap was the one teasing you rather than Gaz.
Why were you so flustered? Was it due to the absence of light-hearted mockery that you’ve now forgotten what it felt like?
“Okay, okay. I will find you the most brilliant gift on the Mainland,” you bragged, attempting to come off aloof.
Gaz’s smile grew, though he didn’t step away from you. “Excellent.”
You watched as he finally moved, straightening up. He radiated a boyishness, one you didn’t see often, so you allowed him the advantage. The two of you were growing friends, or at least that’s how it felt. You didn’t want to lose that feeling.
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“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Price ordered his men. He said it with such warning, as if you weren’t standing amongst them.
It made sense, though you felt like a child with a leash on. After all, the last time you joined them on the Mainland, you ended up in a heated game of hide and seek with the soldiers you so stupidly entrusted.
Ghost stood silent, eyes peering over the side of the ship and to the faint view of the bustling town sitting several hundred yards away. He seemed on edge, more than he normally was, but you could only tell so much from his stiff body language.
You followed his view, squinting. The Captain decided it was best to dock the ship on a farther pier, away from the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. Nobody would notice them unless they went searching.
“Aye, Cap,” Soap and Gaz synchronized.
Price glanced at Ghost, who shifted his focus off of the land and to his Captain. He gave him a curt nod, and seeing that Price was satisfied, the five of you began to head off.
Ghost was in charge of you this time, much to your dismay. It was evident Price was still weary of you running off, and it seemed Ghost was his most trusted candidate for the job.
The walk towards the busy town was quiet apart from Soap and Gaz speaking quietly behind you. You tried to listen in, but it seemed Soap had a keen sixth sense because before you knew it, his hands cupped over your ears, shielding you from the chatter.
You could very faintly hear Gaz snickering, so you frowned to yourself, disappointed.
You always wondered what they all spoke about when you weren’t around. It always felt like there was this lingering whisper in the air that spoke a language you didn’t understand.
The maps, the poem, none of it made sense to you and nobody was offering answers. Even when you tried to shush it in your mind as it played on replay, it never quite left. It was always in the corner, waiting to return once things got too quiet.
Glancing at Ghost from beside you, he gave no indication of… anything, really. Even after all this time, he was still an impossible read. He stood tall as always, walked with an edge to him, and kept his eyes forward.
You’d never met somebody so confusing yet utterly frustrating at the same time. One moment, he gave you hopes of a bright future on the ship—getting along, finding solitude in one another, empathizing understanding.
Yet as quickly as those feelings would come, they’d be squashed with a mere glare. A burning fire. Something reserved.
You didn’t think he understood himself, either.
When you came to the bounds of the town, Price stopped you. He glanced up at the sky, eyes squinting at the brightness on his retinas, before looking back.
The sun blared down on you from directly above.
“Return here when the sun falls to the west. If anythin’ happens, and I mean anythin’,” he paused, meeting your eyes before shifting back to his men, “then you run back to the ship and signal the bell. Am I understood?”
You really hoped Ghost was good with directions, or at least had a compass. You weren’t sure how to read the time through the sun’s positions. It was never a necessity before when you knew that it was nighttime when the moon came out to play.
You looked back at the ship that was now in the distance. It floated mindlessly along the lapping waves, bobbing back and forth as if saying hello.
The men confirmed with Price. Just as you were about to join them as they trudged on forward, Price stopped you with an arm held out, blocking you from walking.
“You aren’t goin’ to run off on me again, are you?” he asked quietly, though there was that familiar touch of authority to his tone. It wasn’t malicious, but you knew the implications—he wanted to trust you.
“No, sir,” you assured with a shake of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you dared to look at Ghost, who was impatiently waiting if the tapping of his fingers on his crossed arms meant anything. “I won’t do such a thing.”
The Captain kept his arm up for a moment so he could look at you. His eyes searched yours, so much so it made you flustered.
“Good.” He nodded. “Go along, then.”
He dropped his arm, letting it fall to his side. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply cleared his throat and gave you a farewell with a nod.
You watched him leave, disappearing into the swarm of shopping townsfolk. Curiosity festered you like a tick, itching into your skin, but you knew it was best to leave it be for now.
“You comin’?”
Ghost snapped you out of your spell. You quickly came back to reality, offering a quick nod before jogging to catch up to him, sticking to him like glue as you entered the town.
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It was loud and overwhelming as you followed Ghost around. He made haste with purchases which ranged from stock for food to new knives that glinted tauntingly at you in the light, all of which were shoved into the bag thrown on his shoulders.
You knew people were staring. Even if they were directed towards Ghost and his eccentric appearance, it felt like they were watching you for even being associated with him.
The whispers between women about it being scandalous, the chatter between men who felt imposing threat from Ghost merely standing there.
You didn’t know why, but a part of you felt more defensive than humiliated. Your image was one mocked for the entirety of your lifespan, but Ghost had done nothing to warrant it. Not to them, anyway. To you was a different story.
None of that mattered now, though. You were growing increasingly irritated at being looked upon like a circus act.
“Ignore it,” Ghost muttered. You almost didn’t quite catch it. “I can feel you gettin’ huffy.”
You scowled, crossing your arms and turning your head. Ghost paid you no mind, continuing to browse in the small shop you were in.
“I am not huffy,” you mumbled.
Ghost paused, turning his head towards you. He stared, eyes flickering over your face—first to your furrowed eyebrows, then to your narrowed eyes, then down to your lips tugged into a frown.
He snorted quietly through his nose, returning to his browsing.
The sound made you turn your head. Dare you say it sounded amused, though it could be your ears deceiving you.
You decided to ignore it. The last thing you wanted was to bring it up and have him reserve back to permanently scowling.
Ghost straightened up from the various knives he was looking at, uninterested. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.
“Need anythin’?” he asked, sniffing.
You perked up, hand coming to rest on the small pouch resting on your hip. It contained the coins Gsz gifted you for clothing, as well as the surprise gift he requested of you.
Nothing came to mind on what to get him. You were clueless, and really didn’t want to owe him.
“Gaz was generous enough to give me coins to buy my own clothes,” you explained, shaking the pouch. Coins within the bag clanked together.
Ghost glanced down at the pouch. “I see,” he hummed, a touch of confusion in his words. Almost as if he was surprised.
He gestured with his head to follow him. The two of you left the quaint shop, stepping back out on to the dusty road. Ghost didn’t move from the entrance, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.
A silent question. He was allowing you to make the choice on where to go.
Looking around, you realized you knew close to nothing about shopping for clothes. Not of these kind, anyway. You were used to the muted, colorless fabrics that never seemed to fit quite right.
You decided on a shop that displayed a variety of different clothes and colors in the windows. Some looked too delectable for your taste, and much too expensive, while some were more simple.
Stepping inside, the sight was positively overwhelming. Colors of all kinds lined the walls. Stuffed mannequins were pinned together with dresses.
Ghost seemed severely uncomfortable. You were elated. A taste of your own self was hidden somewhere within these walls, and you were going to find it.
“Go ahead,” Ghost gruffed from beside you. He shifted on his feet, eyes averting to nowhere. “Not my thing.”
You hummed in response, leaving to browse on your own accord. If Ghost didn’t seem to mind, then you wouldn’t rush yourself.
You took your time. You went through everything you can think of—greens, blues, purples, reds. None seem to fit you. Or more so, you wouldn’t fit with them.
Neutrals were their friends. Browns, grays, anything above the stars. So, naturally, that’s what you went for. Something to fit in and not stand out. You were facing that enough as is.
Once you focused your preference, you found quite a few options and went with what felt best.
Ghost watched you with muted curiosity as you fluttered around the store with a heap of clothes in your arms. He only looked away once he was caught.
As you were about to call your search a success, a glint of gold in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A beautiful miniature telescope sat locked away in a glass case, made from dark wood and detailed with an exquisite gold design.
The sight of it instantly reeled you in.
It was the perfect gift for Gaz. You came to learn that he had a love for the moon and stars, often leaving the room late at night to ponder beneath them. You knew you wouldn’t lose your game if you got it for him.
The only issue was that the price was hefty.
You looked down at your strew of clothes, contemplating. The coins in your pouch would be enough for your clothes, but not for the telescope as well.
The telescope called out to you, like a secret siren’s song pulling you into captivity. It chose you, and you chose it back.
Ultimately, you graciously returned some of the fabrics back to their original areas, leaving them tidy and neat. You approached Ghost with nothing more than a few clothings items, enough to get you by.
You were never materialistic anyway.
Ghost stood, silently observing but feigning disinterest as you made the big purchase for your clothes, then requested the telescope. He made no comment, eyes following your every move as you emptied the contents of your pouch, the coins clanking along the counter.
The merchant was happy to sell it to you, claiming that nobody seemed interested. You were pleased to hear that, and with a quick and easy exchange, the clothes and telescope were yours, placed carefully into Ghost’s bag.
“Is that it, then?” Ghost huffed, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder.
You nodded, satisfied with your purchases as you set off along the old roads to return to the rest of the crew.
As you walked, your eyes ventured along the way, taking in the varying crowds. Some mothers, some fathers, some alone on their own journeys. None paid you any mind.
Until one did.
A man. Not as tall as your crew, but certainly as threatening. His entire aura would be misty black if it was visible to the naked eye. His hair was a cropped mess on his head, brown like the dirt beneath your shoes.
His skin was scarred and tainted, dark eyes piercing into you. Even from a distance, you feared you’d combust into a bloodied, explosive mess just from the sheer look he gave you.
The worst was his smile. Cocky. Arrogant. Evil.
If death were a man, this would be its vessel.
His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. He was too far away. It wasn’t until the wind bristled, rising goosebumps along your skin did you hear it. His voice traveled along the breeze until it whisked to your ears, flooding through.
“I’ll be seeing you, dove.”
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donutz · 2 months
Note
sebastian with a reader who gives him a ton of resources and asks if they can buy a kiss from him O-O
Buying a kiss from Sebastian
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You aren't that delusional right?
— A big ol smooch. Mwah. Delicious fishy skin oh so yummy.
Warning: Shy reader, but not the stereotypical 'Y/N'; Stutters, I'm sorry I'll try to make it realistic; THIS IS NOT A BIG DADDY AND SHY Y/N TROPE.; Sorry I just wanted to warn you; I don't use Y/N anyways, I use Reader as if there's a difference😎; There's no kiss on the lips☹️; Buttt there's a teasing Sebastian; 'Bad' words; Non-human reader, they just have the ear fins; They have green-like skin with four yellow eyes! Two fakes ones underneath their original ones; They also can disguise as a human
After dying over and over again, you became acquainted with Sebastian. You saw him in the shop and even saw him when you were dead. You’re not sure on how the dying thing works but…
It doesn’t really matter as long as you get to see Sebastian.
You’ve gained feelings for him, even though he isn’t very.. Human. His little insults can be annoying but I guess it’s um. Reasonable? Yeah that’s something you don’t enjoy all that much.
But his voice and his tone is something that you like. You may have a strange taste but who doesn’t like a 10 ft tall man that has aquatic features?
… Probably every other normal person…
But some mermen can be attractive! You feel like a little kid crushing on cartoons.
Sebastian seems very closed off and distant from humans. Maybe because humans are the reason he’s this way?
That’s understandable.
I don’t think I would like humans at all if I looked like that either. It’s not like he’s ugly it’s just… It seems like he was human before being that way.
Anyways
Maybe since he doesn’t seem okay with other forms of affection— You could get him a gift! It’s unexpected, can be taken as platonic, and a way to get closer to somebody! Perfect!
Though what should you get him?
Hmm…
You don’t know any of his likes, favorites, nothing really.
Oh!
But he has a shop!
You could uhh. Give him some items for his shop!
And then…
Ask for a kiss!
… Is that too forward? Well he might like you back!
He might… Like you back..
He doesn’t really give many hints on his feelings towards love. Especially towards you, minus the lessened amounts of insults he throws at you.
Oh that could be a hint! He stutters sometimes too! But he did that before he truly knew you… 
Ugh, too many ellipses.
Oh sorry I didn’t mean to break the 4th wall.
Agh hem.
As the loop starts again, you decided that the gift could be items. Items to give so he can hold it for his shop. Then a smooch!
A smooch?
Yeah a kiss. Totally. He’ll definitely give you a kiss with those… Rubber… Lips…
Okay maybe a kiss on the hand can suffice.
Exiting the submarine you prepare to give Sebastian a ton of items in return for a kiss!
Are you really that delusional?
.
.
.
Yes!
You end up finding flash beacons, flashlights, medkits— Actually maybe you should keep that one.
Y’know, just incase a good pers—
… Mmm…
People?
Just in case good people pops up.
Hate that thing.
Oh wow a lantern.
When it comes to the monsters and just being in this place in general, it’s like your whole personality switches. 
When it comes to Sebastian you’ll be all shy. But when it comes to just Urbanshade, its creatures, and Hadal Blacksite… You’re more mad and irritated.
Sometimes you even say bad words at the creatures.
Oooo.
Saying bad words even though you’re a grown adult.
How, “NO YOU CAN’T SAY THAT”!!
Y’know? 
When people infantilize shy characters?
Y’know?
☹️
You get pretty close to door fifty, having many helpful sources to give to that— man…
You hear an expected voice..(Oh how spooky)
“Hey. Come here”.
You look at an invisible camera pulling off that— Roblox man face or something- I don’t– I don’t know.
Speed walking over there in excitement, you hold a smile on your face. Your beautiful smile lines showing.
Damn, you really like him huh?
You crawl through the vents waiting with anticipation. Possible praise? Or even a smile?
You can’t wait.
Reaching the end of the vent, you immediately look up, bumping your head. It’s a good thing you have that head gear. You might’ve gotten a traumatic brain injury and five dollars.
… What.
A- Anways, you rub your head looking down.
“Oh damn. Well based on that head bump I already know who it is. Hello my favorite prisoner”.
“Hey Sebastian, yeah you’re so funny. Making fun of my h- head bump. Die”.
“Hey buddy I was justt messing arounddd”.
“M-hm- Mhm.” You let out pained noises. Getting out from the vent, you stretch out your limbs. Hearing a few pops
“Eww… Yuck, I hate those sounds.” Sebastian commented.
“Yeah they’re kinda weird about humans”.
“They suree areee”…
After a few seconds of silence, Sebastian speaks up.
“Soo, you gonna buy anything”?
“W- Well maybe, I– shiver, I actually have some gi- gifts for you.” Clearing your throat you physically cringe at the stuttering. It makes you seem.. I don’t know.. Fanfic material or something.
“Gifts”?
“Yea! Gifts.. T- To show you my um… G- Gratitude for- sigh, for giving me those items”.
He chuckled, “It’s not like I give you them for free or anything”.
“Yeah but sometimes you give me discounts”.
“Oh yeah huh”?
“So I— I wanted to give these to you, S- Sebastian”..
“You’re very stuttery today aren’t you”?
You look up at him while getting the things out of your bag.
You let out a shivery laugh, “Y- Yeah, I’ve never really um.. Given someone gifts before a- and it’s.. Spooky– down here”.
Sebastian could tell that was an excuse.
I know that was an excuse, it’s obvious you’re this way because of your little crush or something.
You hand Sebastian the items, his two claws engulfing yours. You wish these stupidly thick gloves were off your hands so you could actually feel his claws.
“And shaky”.
“Oh! Um”..
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks with concern. Putting away the items, he’s not sure why he even asked.
“Yeah I’m okay! It’s just um. Th- Those aren’t f- free.” Even with the small amount of built confidence, you were still very nervous.
“Oh of course they’re not. What is it? Do I have to give you some data or something? If you’re asking for cash then–”
“N- No”!
He’s surprised by the sudden and yippy-like voice.
“I uh, I don’t want data or cash”.
“... So, what do you want”?
“A. A uhm. Uh”.
“C’mon spit it out already”!
“A kiss!! Yeah a small kiss or something”..
.
.
.
Oh yes I love awkward moments, what about you?
“A kiss?” Sebastian repeats.
You nod, not even being able to speak right now. You’re looking at the ground with hands together and thumbs rubbing against the hard leather. If you weren’t sweating you definitely would be now.
“Y’know it would’ve made more sense if you said that before giving me the items”?
“Sebastian I’m serious”!
“Okay okay, yes you can have your kiss”.
You look up quickly, a quiet crack in your neck from turning it so fast.
You may think that you’re blushy and flustered one right now. Well that’s correct, if you can even blush.
Buttt you’re not the only one with a rapidly beating heart.
Sebastian’s trying to hide it, to not seem all vulnerable in front of somebody. Not just a human. Showing that you’re vulnerable is a sign of, I guess.. Weakness.
“But how can you even kiss me with that diving helmet”?
Oh yeah you forgot about that.
“O- Oh, yeah uhm- let me take care of that”.
That sentence peaks his interest, if you were to take that off then he’s sure your head would pop.
“W- Wait I was just joking—!” He reaches out to you to stop you, putting his right claw over your head gear.
Even though you’d be just fine with the pressure, you were shocked he even stopped you.
“Oh uhm. Sebastian. I’m not fully human, I can handle the pressure with or without the gear”.
Whattt??
His face scrunches with confusion and shock, stunned. 
You take off the head gear, but don’t worry, you’ve managed to disable that explosion thing. Just temporarily, they haven’t noticed yet.
You hold your gear in your hand, looking up at Sebastian.
You smile, showing off your yellowish, blueish teeth. Your ear fins sway slightly, up and down.
“Yeah I’m not really uhh, human. Fully anyways.” You set your gear on the ground—
“A- And I’ve taken care of that blowing up device. S- So don’t worry”.
God he reallyyy hopes that nobody walks in right now.
“Th- They can’t hear me either so, I’ll be fine temporarily. I’ll soon have to turn it all back on so they don’t suspect anything”.
Wow.
He thought you were kinda dumb to add onto your shy personality.
Damn.
That’s um.
Surprising.
You can feel his stare on you. It’s not very uhh, it’s not a good feeling.
You look back up at him, putting a hand over your forehead as if it were a visor.
“Do I not look good or-”
“N- No! That’s not why I’m staring. It’s just.. Surprising. I couldn’t really get any hints on how you weren’t a human”.
“Ah, well that was on purpose actually. I- I’m not sure if you really do scents but– I gave myself a more human scent and covered up the dark green skin with a more human one”.
Woww, yes you’re sooo smart.
He keeps on staring at you.
“Anyways, what about that uhm.. That kiss..?” You mentally cheer at the least amount of stutters in the much bolder question.
“O- Oh yes”!
Oo! A stutter!
“Well I doubt you would kiss me on the lips”.
“O- Oh I don’t m- mind— Ughh, I don’t mind kissing you anywhere really. Just a kiss itself is fine”!
“Oh really?” He teased.
“Y- Yes.” You whisper.
“Well, how about a kiss to the palm, yeah? Not too forward and nearly just the right amount of romance”.
“Yeah that’s fine”!!
Your somewhat wobbly legs move over to Sebastian. He slightly moves his right claw to your face, casting a shadow over your head because of how big it is.
You grab both sides of his hand and lean over to his palm, giving it a quick—
Smooch!
To the palm. Even after the kiss you still stay there for a few seconds, before backing away with your hands behind your back.
You hurriedly put your head gear back on before quickly stuttering out—
“T- Thank you f- for the k- kiss! I enjoy- gulp, enjoyed it”!
Rushing out of the shop, you let out a huge breath.
As if this was some show, the camera would pan to Sebastian’s scrunched up face, his lip(?) quivering. He’s happy that he’s cold blooded, or else he’d be blushing very, very hard right now.
He holds up that same palm, and puts it to his lips(??).
Letting out a shaky breath.
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Guys guess how much words..
1773!!! I'm so good at um. Long fanfics yeah😛😛
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plasticfangtastic · 3 months
Text
Dairy Girl
A Homelander X F! Reader fanfic
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A/N: I am still working on my other projects but I just wanted to write something fun and light to get me back into writing. I hope y'all enjoy this short little piece, btw i aint got no kids so i have very little idea how milk banks work, this will be a 2 or 3 part story.
Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.
Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.
Word Count: 3K
Part 1– Heifer
Such a small box, smaller than a shoe box, just big enough to fit its contents with enough space for his ghost to move. You stared at the small box as its buried in the family plot… you never thought of visiting this place to ever bury the last shred of happiness you had left, his body was born weak, so small you wonder if you’d given birth to a child or a chick, 2 months ago you had come home to find your now ex in bed with his ex, he had turned this betrayal on its head and blamed you for it, something about your lack of desire lately, about how your pregnancy had given him amounts of pressures he'd never agreed with, talking endlessly about his needs and how much you’d ignored him.
Whoever this man was, you didn’t recognize him.
Time blurred into nothing but disconnected colors and shapes, all you know was that the stress and anguish lead to this.
A box under soil.
Days passed and in your empty apartment, surrounded by all the stuff you bought you stood in front of the sink, throwing a bottle of fresh milk down the drain feeling tremendous guilt, the doctor said you would dry out soon enough but your breast had swollen so much your bras no longer fit– even the spare ones you bought just in case they’ve grown a size too big from what you expected, you booked an appointment with your doctor hoping they could give you whatever cocktail of drugs to dry you out and save you from the pressure and pain in your chest, it had been nothing but a passing message from a worried neighbor who had stop by to give you some mail that had been sent to them by accident when she mentioned her daughter-in-law had donated her excess milk after her little one refused to latch, she gave you the name of the charity and after much thinking you gave in, you lost your baby but there was some woman out there who could end up experiencing your same grief if their baby starved to death, yours simply born too small and weak to hold your finger for very long.
It felt good, you met the women running the charity and even some of the faces of the women you helped, as you delivered your frozen packs to the women’s clinic where the charity operated, it helped you heal, it gave your pain purpose, but as the months faded behind you a part of you worried about how much you keep producing, less than before but still too much, yet you keep going knowing it would end soon enough. 
Perhaps somebody in the clinic or the charity had dropped your information to these people but you'd received some mail regarding some research trials Vought International was running and how they needed some donors to drop fresh samples, in their pamphlet they offered to pay a decent amount--your divorce had been costly plus having to move to a new place and breaking your previous lease had left your bank account quite dry, this was cheap money, you had given your milk for free, you looked at the few pouches you had collected for next week's drop you saw a wonderful opportunity to make some quick cash.
You went to the Vought Clinic and saw a few other women filling up forms, reading old magazines or dilly-dallying on their phones until some nurse called their numbers, you filled the medical form, waited less than half an hour before your number was called, brought into a small bleach scented room, the nurse read your form and told you she would take a blood sample, a doctor came in, reciting whatever script he’d been given about what this project was, giving you big words you had no interest in, this was about providing better milk formulas closer to natural milk than anything currently in the market apparently, thanking you for your donation, he looked at your form smiling as he saw your inked words.
“You're still producing 4 months after…” The doctor handed you a disinfecting wipe and a freshly steamed breast pump in a silver tray– we just need two samples, please press the alarm to let us know you’d finished, then follow Nurse Potts to the front counter to sort out your payment.”
It had been an awkward experience, but there you were 300 dollars richer, you probably should’ve read those papers a bit closer before signing but money was money and you were told to come back if you could.
You did it a couple times for 2 months, much like a man donating sperm for pocket money or plasma to pay the rent.
That was the first mistake, you headed home and woke up the morning after wishing you had stayed out for an extra hour or two, perhaps caved in to your friends pressures and tried going back to dating (after all your ex was whoring himself all across the lower east side without moral qualms) or hookups so you would had gone to a different address, maybe you should had taken a taxi instead of taking the train and walking home.
Regardless you woke in some strange empty room, the only thing beside your person was a pair of pale pink hospital gowns, grippy socks, clean underwear and a pair of thick large towels, you screamed and banged on the door for an ungodly amount of time but nobody ever came, you stayed alone in that room for what could have been 12 hours or more… maybe less… who knew it was all too much, suddenly a sharp sound cut into the silence a note had been slid under the door, you rushed to the note.
It was instructions, they wanted you wearing their clean clothes, you could not leave the room unless you did so, and as much as you hated the idea, you wanted to get out so badly, you knew if you wanted to escape your only chance came in knowing your surroundings, you begrudgingly and tearfully changed, waiting until anything changed– the doors hissed opened, a woman in a sharp cream coloured suit stood there with clipboard and an armed guard, at the sight of the heavy looking gun– you froze.
Then you took the first step towards hell.
You knew the following things: You lived in some basement area– there were no windows, only elevators. You weren’t alone, there were other women here and they made sure to keep your interactions at minimum no doubt to keep all of you submissive and not getting any ideas, sometimes familiar faces will fade and you could only speculate nightmares. Lastly… your purpose, the reason you were trapped here in the first place was… to lactate.
A plucky little thing that stayed optimistic despite your shared horror called herself a ‘Heifer’ she wasn’t wrong… you lived in a small cell where everything had sat on top of each other feed to keep fat and producing milk much like a cow, whoever developed this diet knew of all the ingredients known to help production, and you knew there were putting something else in the food for your breast begun to feel uncomfortable, for a little while you thought you could fight it by starving yourself, then two men with guns came into the room and told you to eat or else.
The time you spend outside this microflat hong-kong style cell was in the milking room and the shower room, you were ordered to stay clean and quiet, at least in the milking room you had some television and could spend time with the other women, but they keep you isolated, you could do very little, sometimes music would play and a book would be dropped with your food but your happiness wasn’t priority, you had to fill a quota.
After a couple weeks of this you simply accepted defeat, too many guns… not enough spaces to run, and nothing to come home to… a man that wanted to sue you for more feeling as if the judge had been unfair, a pestering family who acted as if they had been the only ones who experience loss, an empty cot you still hadn’t gotten rid off and piles and piles of bills, in this quiet cool room you had spend endless hours thinking, you didn’t love your job, you had been distant from most of your friends and you could only imagine that they assumed you had run away or killed yourself after what happened nobody could blame you.
Existing for the sake of existing until you could figure out what to do next.
“Good Evening… I’m glad you’re eating so well” The lady you met the first day said as the door hissed open, she watched you like a hawk as you process this sudden interruption, clutching at your paper thin blanket, you looked at the floral fabric in her arms and the clipboard under her arm– I need you to sign this before you’re allowed upstairs”
“Am I being let out?” You said anxiously, no way it could be that easy you thought.
The lady let her smile waiver, looking at the unseen guard then at her wrist watch as she handed you the clipboard.
“Your performance might determine how soon you'll be release…”
“You assume I won’t go to the police…”
“That wouldn’t be wise Miss L/N but we assure you that you’ll be sufficiently compensated for the inconvenience.”
You wanted to yell, but a voice in the back of your head thought of this but nothing but pageantry, you were dead either way, but perhaps this could be your opportunity to escape, whatever they wanted to do now meant being outside of these buried walls, you signed the sheet without thinking, briefly considered stabbing the bitch in the eye but is likely they would turn you into swiss cheese before you even took a step too close, she took the paperwork from your hands and in change handed you a long sleeved dressed straight out of the mormon section in target, she closed the door and you dressed up.
The halls looked so odd when you didn’t wear your prison clothes, the other few doors housed sleeping and bored girls, your plucky friend hidden behind one of them, the new girl hidden behind one of them and the girl you seen before in the milking room once hid behind one of them.
They took you to an elevator– it was old box, if you had to guess by the button’s design maybe built in the late or mid 70s, you never left their side until the elevator closed before them, the box moved slowly, a dingy silver box with low honey coloured lights, so dim… and you were alone, as the light chime as it went up you felt your entire being sink into your stomach, your heart beating so fast you were sure you were gonna have a heart attack before the doors opened once again, swallowing dry spit, your eyes opened so wide it hurt.
Quiet… it was so quiet when the doors opened, you expected something else, something menacing… something frightening– not an old house, an old house in the middle of some evergreen forest, everything screams old, untouched, museum like, like it's meant to present this idea that somebody lives here but not really, despite it being an elevator hidden behind a bookcase, you take a few cautious steps, your naked feet bury in the plush carpet, there’s bird singing outside and the sun is so bright and warm it hurts your eyes, the cool tones gone and this feels like a bad dream, pinching yourself but you’re awake, tragically awake, a weird wiry smile creeps on your lips, an almost laugh escapes your lips before you can feel tears burning your eyes.
“Hello…?” You ask and you don’t know why.
As you venture into the living room, hands firm against the tacky dark pink wallpaper, you found old floral couches that matched the drapes and despite how old school it was it had a charm to it.
Then you saw him.
Perusing the VHS collection filled the entire bookcase on the wall, just rows and rows of VHS boxes, some plastic and some cardboard, the TV boxy and just as antiquated but who cared— he was there.
You ran before you even realized you done it, crashing into him with desperation, tears staining your cheeks and you could barely breath as you tried so hard to speak.
“Homelander please help me!! I’ve been kidnapped!! Please!!” You cried, pulling on his suit– please!!”
Those endlessly blue eyes more poison dart hide than veronica flower bush the more they stared at you calmly, his lips into a thin smile and his hand thad taken your wrist inflicting just enough force to keep you firmly in his grip… to show you how he wasn’t an ordinary man, he looked at you as your tears changed meaning as if you were the most unfortunate creature he’d ever seen, his lips parted just enough to show those sharp canines that had looked so charming in sidewalk posters, now you could sense their presence squeezing at your jugular.
“You are so much prettier in person, Y/N.” His voice is disturbingly soft and calm, intimately quiet as he takes a whiff of your neck, moving you to make it easier, his free hand creeped towards your hip– I was so glad when I saw your picture and you weren’t hideous.”
Trembling against him, a nonexistent cold draft blew against you, your whole body shivering and covered in goosebumps.
His eyes fixated in your breast, mouth agape as his tongue dared to lick his lip, watching you like a starved man at a las vegas buffet, his hand slithering upwards, you know where this is leading, you can’t stop crying but you can’t scream either, you're just there as his hand avoids your breasts and creeps towards your back and presses your bodies together.
“I’m so glad you signed that sheet, I was getting sad endlessly waiting for one of you to agree to the deal” He says quietly, you stare at him and you realize you should’ve actually read that stupid sheet– why so scared? I ain’t gonna bite.” He bites the air as a joke and you could tell that that single bite could have torn your finger off cleanly.
His eyes shift to your clinging fingers that stayed so stiff against his padded suit, you stopped squeezing at him now they rested limp against him.
“Let’s watch a movie…” 
It’s an awkward dance concluding in sitting down on a couch, its surprisingly soft and you’re sinking on the cushion while your mind dissolved in the sky, the coffee table had a humbled spread of snacks, pizza and milkshakes, not once did you notice, you stared at him clutching at your dress as he picked something out of the shelve, watching as his hand worked the VHS player, the clicks and whirling all you could focus on. He sat beside you as the speakers began to play the included trailers, he took the drink urging you to do the same with a menacing look, filling you with incomplete thoughts as you obeyed.
Malt vanilla marinated in your tongue, you had a terrible thought.
‘Milk’ 
You were there to provide milk… to whom? Why just milk? You thought they would sell your body or your organs, experiment on you but… they wanted your milk, but who was buying it? Who was drinking it? Where did it go? You stared at the pretty blond whose arm kept your shoulders still, you saw the news– you’d known he had a child and who knows with whom but his kid was old enough to not need it… was it for him? You thought… thinking of it as ridiculous until you remember how 20 minutes ago  he was staring at your tits as if he was malnourished, you looked at his lips pursing as he took a long sip of his milkshake and wonder if that was milk… from a cow… not a heifer like you.
Homelander smiled at you.
“I don’t like ‘The mothman prophecy’ , never been a Richard Gere fan” he said casually.
“He was really good in ‘Pretty Woman’ . This one is okay…” You looked at the screen your voice so stiff– what’s going on…? Mr. Homelander… I…"
“Shhh… watch the movie” He leaned against you resting his head on your shoulder– you tasted the best… every batch perfection– such delicate custardy taste… So this is what we are gonna do… I’ll keep you in this floor so you’re not so bored ."
You swear he’s purring as he rubs himself against you marking you as much as he was making himself comfortable.
“There’s cameras everywhere… The glass is bulletproof, doors won’t open without a fob and code, and there’s no phones or internet, but if you do manage to get out of here just be aware I’ll know.” He said such terrible things as if it was nothing– if you tried to off yourself there will be 3 armed guards and nurses here in less than a minute but if you behave I promise you– you’ll be allowed out, but only if you gain my trust.” He looks up at you as you focus on those thin lips of his– there’s no kitchen but your meals will be delivered… if you want anything just tell the camera over there.”
He pointed at the corner tucked in between two VHS tapes was a small camera.
“I like you Y/N you're cute… you’ll behave for me, right?”
You nodded, too afraid to disagree.
“Now… let’s finish the movie… I actually like this part”
You stared at the pizza box, you could at least tell that the pizza was from an american restaurant, which made you feel safe ‘Select Pizza and Grill” said in the box and you knew you were somewhere in Pennsylvania, far from your apartment in Clinton Hill.
You looked at your boobs feeling his piercing gaze on them, you started drawing lines connecting weird things together, back when you were donating your milk, girls joked about people buying for medicinal and fetish purposes, this spelled itself out for you.
Maybe you could get out of here… but you had to do something weird… but as you heard the birds outside and the warm light peeked into the room, you realized maybe you could leave… no you’ll leave, you’ll go back home and you would find a way to ruin this man and those bastards beneath you, you’ll get them out too, so you took one courageous breath and forced a smile on your dried lips.
“You really liked it?”
“Huh?”
“My milk…” You mumbled– you know I never tasted it myself but am glad to get a review.”
“It’s really tasty” he bites his lip.
Your hand plays with one of the buttons on the dress.
“It hurts a bit… I usually get asked to pump around this time… dunno if you know this but it's a bit painful when they get this swollen.”
The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know and as you leaned away from him pulling on buttons with slightly trembling fingers, you watched him follow your movements like a snake chasing prey.
“Would you help me out, mister superhero?” Is not flirty but is slightly playful and you’re surprised that you can lie that well, he’s so shameless as he shakes his head enthusiastically, mouth opening for you– please don’t bite.”
He gasps as you let him see all that he’d wanted from the get go, why he put you in that box, why you ended up in this place for.
His body was lighter than you thought as he sunk against you-- eyes closed, body limp against yours, he made the softest sounds it put you at ease somehow, for a moment you saw a very small being latched on your chest, you’d only experienced it once before, and it was seared into your mind as a painful yet tender memory, so you close your eyes dreaming of a fantasy far removed from this peculiar reality, half lid eyes found a man so blissed out your lips curved, this was unbelievable, the world most famous supe keeping you hostage just so you could indulged him.
But you knew now… that this was your way out.
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pursuitseternal · 3 months
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Congrats on 1500 followers! Can I please play your Smut Ask game? Please? 👉👈 🫣
19. “You’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “I’m all yours.”
Ft. Astarion x Reader
“I’m all yours…”
Act 3 Astarion x Reader
CW: tooth rotting fluff, mating press, creampie
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No more Underdark, no more Shadow Curse…
Sunlight once more on your skin, and Astarion couldn’t bring himself to leave it. Rivington was loud and crowded, but you don’t care. Not when you can see him smiling again now that you managed your way through the darkness of Reithwith. Back in the City….
Back into the sun.
It took some convincing, but Gale finally agreed to let you and your love take an afternoon to lose yourselves in the light.
Just a picnic, you had offered to Astarion. Well, a basket of food for you, a scroll of lesser restoration, and your neck for him.
Away from the crowds and eyes now, you spread your blanket on the grassy hill. The sun at its zenith, you can feel it tingling and burning your skin.
But Astarion craves that, you realize, as he pulls off his cream, ruffled shirt and lays at your feet in naught but his leathers. You scan him, shaking your head. That smirk on his face already tells you it won’t be long before those warm brown trousers are set aside too. He picks up the scroll to heal you and giggles. “Somebody planned for some extensive aftercare,” his smirk deepens.
You just give him a knowing smile, flounce your skirts, and settle on the blanket beside him. His fingers tease the pale pink ruffles in the hem of it. “I didn’t think you would ever wear something so… delicate. I almost don’t recognize you without a shiny, metal can on your body.” His crimson eyes rake over your form, noticeably lingering on the skin that shows— your legs beneath your skirt, your forearms that dart from the short frilled sleeves, and your bosom that bursts out the top of your bodice. “…almost,” he breathes, eyes settling on the marks that have grown on the side of your neck.
One arm extends towards you. Your heart in your throat, and down you go, already laying alongside of him, sprawling in the sun and cradled by his arm. His cool breath wafts over your neck as he nuzzles your bite scars. “I only need a taste, I swear…” comes the age old request, his little ritual of asking each time, even if the answer is always the affirmative, whispered like a prayer from your lips.
His fangs sink in slowly, his skin warmed all over by the heat and radiation of the sun. You know, as your blood runs and courses through both your bodies, you know he actually feels alive.
He wants to live, and now, he feels like it—the bloom of life within from your blood, the blazing light of the sun on his pale skin.
It doesn’t take much to coax him, just a sweep of your hand across his lower back, and he’s on top of you, sucking loudly in your ear. That ruinous body of his slots between your thighs, and now you realize just why he had teased you so often to wear a dress for once.
His lips drink you down, but his hands, those cool, featherlight hands skate up your outer thighs. The whisper thin fabric of your skirt ghosts up more and more… until he’s rucked it up around your waist.
His voice tickles your ear as he moans into your neck. “Oh… darling, I can already feel how wet you are. All this… just for me?” Fingers tease your panties, right where your dampness gathers. “Such a display of carnal lust, you wanton minx. All this is mine… you’re all mine…”
“Hmm?” You pull yourself out of your hazy cocoon of bliss and warmth, your body growing warmer and more aroused by your lover’s weight and the sun’s heat.
“Say it,” he orders, punctuating his command with a roll of his hips into your mound, even as his fingers press that damp gusset of your underthings to catch you clit.
You loll your head back to center, opening your half-lidded eyes to look up at him. Sunlight glows like a halo around his silken, silver hair, making it hard to see anything of his face than the gleaming crimson of his eyes. Your answer bubbles to your tongue as you lift your hips. “I’m yours, all yours,” you breathe.
“If that doesn’t just warm my undead heart,” he purrs. “How about a treat for my treat… it is a summer picnic after all…”
His mouth presses sweetly and softly against your lips. Wet and insistent, his tongue presses between your lips, and you let him in. He squishes your breasts as he shifts his weight, his hands hurrying to free his cock as he just lowers his leathers enough. That warmed, blunt cock head teases your entrance, your panties barely a barrier between you; and it’s one he so easily conquers with a slight tug of his finger.
“There we go,” he purrs as inch by inch he fills you. He’s slow and tender, working inside you with gentle rolls of his hips. All is warm and heavy, full and undulating. His mouth is locked to yours, his cock buried deep in your sex. And you have to keep your eyes closed, the light of the sun almost as blinding as how brightly he burns for you.
Drowning in the rhythm of his fucking, you are swept further into your bliss with every roll of his hips. His cock, thick and perfect, drags across every inch of your cunt, catching those places that make your spine arch and your belly coil with heat. Hot within, hot without. He presses his heavy frame into you, driving you into the blanket and dirt. He groans in your mouth, the metallic taste of your blood still strong on his tongue. Wave after consuming wave, his thrusts snap against you, that addictive flesh-slapping sound muffled by your simple skirts. He grins, lifting your thighs to press them to your chest. Your cunt bare to the light and revealed to the sun, now his thrusts echo in your ear and down your spine.
He floods you with pleasure, all your skin exposed for his touch. His thrusts grow erratic, his breathing against your flesh ragged. He’s near, so near… just a little more and you know he will tingle with pleasure in his balls and warm with bliss from the inside out.
A roar in your ear, and he fills you, coating you with cum deep inside your cunt. It’s enough to make you tremble and cling, to buck and writhe as your match him in his climax.
Hot all over. And just as loved.
Your hands trace the scars on his back, thier rises and ridges familiar by heart. But for now, his skin’s heat matches the afterglow of that slow-rolling passionate love making.
He’s warm and sweet, mischievous and cunning…. And he’s all yours.
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Smut Ask List | Astarion Masterlist
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.
idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k
content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily
> in which masterlist!
note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺
“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”
you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.
you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.
matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.
one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.
you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.
it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.
recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.
your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.
you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.
you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.
since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.
your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.
but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.
the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.
it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.
you’re so fucking lonely.
you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.
you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.
you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.
for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abundance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.
you’re free falling.
if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.
because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.
the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.
your bad vision begs you to look away.
it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.
you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.
you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.
but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.
jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.
he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.
“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”
but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.
something important such as…
proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.
“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.
it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.
“…shit. i need to go back.”
he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.
thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.
the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.
he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.
that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.
“i won’t forget to call after every show.”
“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”
“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.”
and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.
although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.
“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.
his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.
“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”
“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”
“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”
“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!”
the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.
“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”
immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.
“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”
he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.
“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”
you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.
his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.
“are you mad?”
you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.
“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”
you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.
“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”
“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”
you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.
“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”
he meekly nods.
this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.
“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.”
he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.
“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.
him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.
“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”
“what are those responsibilities exactly?”
“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”
but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.
you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”
the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”
“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”
he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.
with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.
every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.
adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.
on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.
to: my jungkook
babyyy the sun is about to rise
so i’m not sleepy anymore :(
you're not home yet?
wait. if you're still driving just reply later
be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️
ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound
and after the flight ofc!! 😭
i love you! ❤️
seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.
jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.
if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.
once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.
and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.
“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.
he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.
you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.
the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.
but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.
“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”
your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.
“jungkook…”
the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”
“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”
you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”
“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”
but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.
in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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heartpascal · 2 years
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▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader
▹ — summary: settling down fully in jackson means new friends, and more patrols. what could go wrong?
▹ — a/n: 9.7K words here guys … and i cannot tell you what is in here. anyway. hopefully its decent. i feel like i just have very little memory of writing all of this, tis all a BLUR!! one second it was two paragraphs, the next its this??? anyway. hope yall enjoy (pls be nice)
▹ — warnings: angst (as always), blood, injuries, food & food hall, teasing, infected + humans, canon typical violence ofc, father figure miller bros, slight suggestion of a dead horse, swearing, not proofread
▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex
masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
howl’s song association!
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
As much as you had grown to love the town of Jackson, one thing that you couldn’t seem to grow fond of was how loud and obnoxious the dining hall was. You understood, of course, a community eating space where people could socialise and eat and enjoy the company of other residents, it was going to be loud.
But you hated it.
You were used to quiet eating times, or at the very least, quieter. Before Ellie, eating times often remained silent, rushed, especially when you were out on a trip with Joel and Tess. There hadn’t been time to chat. Even when Ellie had tagged along, it wasn’t too loud, because she was mostly forced to talk to herself.
With the Millers, it remained somewhat peaceful at dinner time, the occasional teasing before you focused on shoving your food into your mouth, never quite getting the hang of slowing down. After all, you’d always lived life in a rush, constantly forced to hurry up when eating to save daylight.
In the hall, people laughed and talked and even shouted. It was off putting for you, and you couldn’t quite grow comfortable around it, even when you tried to sit as far away from the rowdy groups as you could, taking a table that sat right along the edge of the room, opposite where you grabbed food.
Most people in the town gravitated towards the noise, crowding in the middle of the room, which was why you were so surprised when you saw someone sit down at the other side of your table, placing a plate in front of them and gazing at you from the corner of their eye.
You looked up from your plate, eyebrows furrowed when you looked at the boy sat opposite, confused why he sat at your table when there were still multiple free.
“Hi.” He said, a grin on his face, and he tapped restless fingers against the table, waiting for your response.
“…Hi.” You replied after a minute, though it came out as more of a question, your confusion evident through both your voice and your expression. The boy grinned wider, and held a hand out over his plate.
“I’m Jesse!” Jesse told you, shaking your hand firmly when you slowly reached toward his extended palm.
“Okay?” You said, watching with even further befuddlement as the boy picked up his cutlery, and began eating, looking at you expectantly. With a slight huff of an awkward breath, you told him your own name, your eyes darting around the room as he grinned widely, showing off some of the half-chewed food in his mouth.
He stayed at your table for the entire meal, until eventually he was waved away by somebody sat toward the middle of the hall. He’d been mostly quiet, other than a comment here or there which hadn’t required a response, mostly talking about how loud the other residents were. When he left, he waved wildly, not faltering even as your hand remained on the table.
You blinked down at your empty plate, completely perplexed by what had just happened.
Two days later, in the dinner hall during lunch time, it happened again. Jesse sat opposite you, his plate full of food in front of him, and he grinned in your direction, as if it answered all of your questions.
“You know, it’s much nicer in here during lunch.” He commented, looking around at the slightly quieter room, his gaze lingering on the group sat in the middle of the room. Jesse moved his eyes to look at you, almost expectantly.
“I guess.” You answered, after a moment of reluctance, and shoved another forkful of food into your mouth when Jesse grinned with a shake of his head.
“You’re not very talkative, are you?” Jesse asked, amused. When you just shrugged your shoulders, hoping he’d take the hint, he continued. “Y’know, I don’t really see you around town much. I’m quite the social butterfly.” He snickered at his own words. “You don’t even eat here every day.”
“Yeah, and?” You asked, voice snarky and matching your unimpressed expression.
“Just saying.” He said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, or so you had thought. “Where do you live?”
“Isn’t that a creepy thing to ask?”
Jesse put his hands up, tilting his head and clearly trying his best to give an innocent look. “No, it’s a small town. Most people know just because everyone is a neighbour’s neighbour.”
“Clearly not that small.” You said, and he snickered again at your response, amusement lingering in his eyes.
“Guess not.” He shrugged, shoving more food into his mouth, and you stared at him for a moment longer, before getting back to eating your own food.
It continued like that for three weeks after the first time Jesse sat with you — he’d sit opposite you, comment about the dining hall, maybe tell a joke or two. He’d ask you questions that you wouldn’t give a clear answer to, and you’d raise your eyebrows at him for all of his strange behaviours. You thought he would’ve caught on that you weren’t all too interested in entertaining him, but each time you were in the hall, he sat at your table.
You hadn’t realised quite how used to his presence you had become until you were sat in the dining hall one evening, and he didn’t show up. You tried to pretend that you weren’t searching for his face each time the doors swung open, but realised it was likely obvious you were searching for someone.
For two days, he hadn’t showed. You pretended you weren’t concerned.
Until it came to the third day, where you had arrived to the dining hall late after facing questions from Tommy as to why you weren’t eating at theirs as often, and there he was. Sat at the table you usually occupied, his head snapping up the moment you swung the door open.
You sighed, something closer to relief than annoyance, because you didn’t mind his mindless comments. As much as it surprised you, you didn’t find his presence all that off-putting.
As soon as you had grabbed your own plate of food, you made your way over, sitting opposite Jesse. He perked up at your presence, lowering his fork from where it had been pushing food around his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw his face, littered in cuts and scrapes, a plaster covering his forehead.
“What happened?” You asked, before you could think better of it, and he rolled his eyes with that all too familiar grin.
“Aw, you worried about me?” He teased, his hand shooting out to grab your arm when you reached to pick up your plate, moving to stand. His teasing stopped quickly, and a smile quirked at your lips. “Okay, okay. It’s embarrassing.”
“Well now you have to tell me.” You reasoned, slightly amused already at the prospect of whatever humiliating thing had gotten Jesse in such a rough shape.
“I… fell off of a horse.” Jesse said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, despite the way he immediately frowned, defensive. You probably shouldn’t be laughing — given that the one lesson of horse riding you’d had with Tommy hadn’t gone so well. “It’s not funny!” He defended, but a smile was creeping up on his face.
“It’s kinda funny.” You responded, still grinning at the image of Jesse just going face first off of a horse. “Okay, it’s really funny.”
“You…” Jesse trailed, shaking his head. “After all my jokes, me falling off of a horse is what makes you laugh?”
You shrugged, an amused look on your face, and said, “Maybe you need to get better jokes.”
Jesse gasped in offence, holding a hand to his chest as if the words had physically pained him, and you shook your head at his dramatics. You were glad he was okay, because you almost enjoyed his presence, on occasions.
“So this is why you wanted to come to the dining hall, huh?” Came a voice from your left, and you snapped your head over to look at Tommy with widened eyes. He was grinning, a teasing smile growing wide on his face, and he laughed. “Oh, I cannot want to tell Maria.”
“Tommy!” You hissed, scolding, your cheeks growing warm at his words. It wasn’t like that — you just wanted to know if Jesse was okay. You mildly enjoyed his jokes, sue you, and it was nice to be around a non-Miller, even for just under an hour a day. “What are you doing here?” You asked, dropping your cutlery onto your plate and glaring at the man.
“Thought I’d save Maria cookin’ and grab some food from here.” He snickered, “Had no idea what I’d be walking into.”
“Oh, are you—” Jesse started, but you cut him off with a stern look.
“No. Tommy, go away.” You ignored the way Jesse was laughing to himself, his grin wide as he looked between you and the Miller man. “Shut up, Jesse.”
“How’s the injury?” Tommy asked, amused, his grin widening when you looked between the two of them, confused. You were sure your face couldn’t get warmer — you would never live this down, you were sure. Tommy wasn’t one to let things go.
“Better,” Jesse grumbled, and you felt the slightest bit better that he felt embarrassed over his horse-related injury. “Had her worried, apparently.”
“I was not worried.” You defended, immediately, and turned to glare at Tommy, repeating your words. He just gave you a disbelieving look. “I hate you both. I’m going home.”
You stood, grabbing the plate of food and heading towards the stack of dirtied dishes. You ignored the way the two of them were still snickering behind you.
“Oh, come on,” Jessie called out to you, almost shouting your name, his grin not faltering even as you sent him a dirty look over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, standing and following you, with Tommy trailing behind whilst shaking his head.
“Don’t you have a wife to feed?” You asked Tommy, eyebrows raised, and grinned tightly when he swore, heading over to get a serving for himself and Maria. “And you, go away.” You told Jesse, looking at him flatly when he just smiled at you some more, clearly very entertained by Tommy’s arrival.
“Why’re you embarrassed? You’re allowed to have friends!” Jesse responded, following behind you as you scraped off the remnants of food on your plate.
“We’re not friends.” You grumbled, shoving the cutlery into the elected trays, before placing the dirty plate on top of a pile of three.
“Hmm, I don’t believe that. You like me.” Jesse laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face even as you shook your head, making your way to the exit. “It’s true! We are friends. Admit it!”
You rolled your eyes, the smile tugging at the edge of your lips, but you refused it, not wanting Jesse to have the satisfaction.
He followed you out of the dining hall, still going on, “Admit it!” In a sing-song voice. It was incredibly annoying.
“Nothing to admit. Now go away.” You responded, turning your head to look at him as he followed along. “I could be leading you to a dark alleyway to murder you, you know.”
“You wouldn’t. You know why?”
“Why’s that?” You asked dryly.
“Because we’re friends.”
You scoffed out a laugh, unable to help it, because he really was kind of contagious. You stopped, turning fully around to see him grinning to himself.
“If I agree, will you go away?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, forcing your expression to flatten into something closer to serious.
“Maybe.”
“Fine,” You drawled, rolling your eyes, “You, the weird guy who sits at my table uninvited all the damn time, are my friend.” Despite the way you had described him, Jesse still smiled blindingly at your admission, his whole face lighting up.
“I knew it!” Jesse yelled, putting his arms in the air victoriously, and you shook your head, holding the bridge of your nose with one hand as he cheered. “You couldn’t resist my charming nature, beautiful looks, and unbeaten survival skills.”
You looked flatly at him, “You’re annoying, look like shit, and the only skill you’ve shown off, is how many pieces of bread you can fit in your mouth without choking.”
“Wow, harsh.” Jesse said, though his grin didn’t fall.
“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Tommy said, making you both turn to see him, two boxes of food held in his hand. He grinned, and nodded his head toward you. “She’s a softie, really.”
Your flat look just made Jesse snicker, and you shot him a glare. “You’re both annoying.”
“Mhm, whatever. Now get. Maria will wanna see you. Get yourself home, Jesse.” Tommy said, shooing Jesse away and shaking his head as the boy shot off with a wave, and a “See you later, friend.”
“I’m coming to yours, then?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs when he moved to stand at your side. “Asshole.”
“Hey! Watch your language!” He scolded, though there was no force to the words.
“Yeah, okay, Dad.” You snickered, shooting him an amused look at the joke you’d made, before you continued on in the direction of his house. You missed the way he raised eyebrows, something like shock on his face.
“God, I am gettin’ old.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head before he set off behind you.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“This is so unfair.” Jesse told you, sulking as he walked by your side, loose stones crunching underneath your feet. You just smile, almost smug, as you turn your head to see his frown.
“It’s not unfair.” You said, rolling your eyes when Jesse only pouts, slowing his pace to keep up with your own. “I’m just better. And Tommy can’t say no to me.”
Jesse slows as you approach the stables, seeing Tommy stood impatiently, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for you to meet him. When he stops, you stop, turning to the boy who had adopted the tendency to follow you wherever you went.
“Be careful.” He warned, expression turning serious, though his pout remained.
“Jesse, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” You told him, waving off his concern with a casual pat to his arm. He frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, calm down.”
“I’m calm!” He defended, a pitch too high to actually make the statement believable. “Can’t believe you get to go out on actual patrols. I’m still stuck on stupid kid training.”
“You are a stupid kid.” You snickered when he shoved your shoulders. “You’ll be out there with me, soon enough.”
Jesse rolled his eyes, about to respond when Tommy called your name, his impatience growing, and he moved to walk over. “I’m coming!” You yelled back to him, huffing at his impatient nature. “I’ll see you later, okay? To tell you all about my badass shooting.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t die.” Jesse said, and you waved him away as you made to go over to where Tommy was looking at his wrist expectantly. You snickered.
“You do know you’re not wearing a watch, right?” You asked as you approached the man, taking the rifle he held out for you without a second thought. You put it over your shoulder.
“Don’t need to be wearin’ one to know that you’re late.” He scolds in response, and you roll your eyes, not paying him much mind seeing as you were before the time he’d actually told you. Tommy just liked to complain.
With a scoff, you followed him into the stables, where the man working there for the day handed off two horses. He passed you the reigns to a dark brown horse, and you smiled, petting her on the nose.
The walk down to the gate was quiet, and you pretended not to notice Tommy glancing at you multiple times out of the corner of your eye. You knew what he was hoping for, but he wouldn’t be getting it today.
A group of those on patrol had already gathered, only a few missing, and you huffed at how early these people liked to be. The assignments had been handed out already, and a woman came over to whisper your assignment to Tommy, giving him a tight smile after she had glanced at you.
“You sure about this, kid? No shame in backin’ out, goin’ home.” Tommy told you, sighing heavily when you shook your head immediately.
“I’m doing this, Tommy. Where we headed?” You asked, watching people start to get on their horses, and head out of the now-open gate.
“C’mon. Goin’ on a trail through the woods, got a cabin out there, needs checking out.” He told you, helping you get onto the horse as you struggled to get up. You got comfortable on the saddle, smiling at him.
With a heavy sigh, he got on his horse, and led the way out of the gate.
You’d guess that he had staked out this route before he allowed you on it. It was tame, barely a sound in the woods other than a few birds chirping away. You shouldn’t have been surprised, it was definitely a Tommy thing to do. Well, a Miller thing, if you thought about it. You knew Joel had done the same thing back when you’d been with him and Tess at the QZ, before he’d let you come on any smuggling trips.
You didn’t mind it, really.
The gun still slung over your shoulder was a comforting weight, and you were just glad to be holding a weapon once again. It was heavier than the ones you were used to, contained more ammo than you could’ve dreamed of, back in the QZ days. It felt good.
Tommy stared at the woods around you, glaring as if he was daring anything to come out of them. It was almost funny. If you weren’t on edge, surveying your surroundings, you might’ve laughed. But you were on this patrol only because he had allowed it, and you were going to prove yourself.
The cabin Tommy had told you about finally came into view, after around an hour of riding, and you raised your eyebrows. You were expecting it to be… more intact, for whatever reason.
With walls made up of rotten wood, and a half burnt down barn, it definitely fit the image of a shack, rather than a cabin. The door was on the ground in front of the frame, and the fence surrounding the property may as well not be there, with how many gaps were in it.
“Well… it’s something.” You offered, pausing your horse behind Tommy’s as he stopped, staring ahead.
“Okay, let’s check it out. We’ll leave them here.” He told you, gesturing towards the horses as he swung his leg over his own, stepping onto solid ground. You did the same, letting Tommy grasp your bicep to keep you steady as you managed to get down. He took the reins of your horse, tying it loosely to a branch not far from his own horse. “Got your knife, too?” He asked, when watching you grasp your gun.
“No, Tommy, you forget that you guys took all my stuff when I first got to town?” You drawled, looking flatly as him, and he returned your expression, rolling his eyes before relenting, giving you a switchblade he’d had shoved in his pocket. “What about you?”
He unsheathed a larger blade from his thigh, waving it in your direction, and you rolled your own eyes at him, reminding yourself to not care about his safety, next time.
You put the knife in your own pocket, and gripped your gun with firm fingers as you followed behind the Miller man, eyes set as you kept an ear out for anything moving around.
The floorboards to the cabin creaked as he stepped inside, and you both cringed, stilling. When nothing came around the corner to try and kill you, Tommy glanced back at you, nodding to continue. The good thing was that there were no signs of clickers, no telltale clicking or stumbling feet. However, from somewhere in the cabin, something was groaning.
“You stick behind me, okay?” Tommy told you, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Not that you would have argued, anyway, because you knew better. You’d rather be stuck in the backseat than him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to protect you. With your confirming nod, he sighed quietly, before continuing on with practiced light footsteps.
You raised your gun higher when the sound steadily grew louder, and Tommy grew tense as the two of you got closer. Finally reaching the room, Tommy peered into the doorway, his expression showing that he’d seen the Infected responsible for all the noise. You peeked between his shoulder and the door when he moved closer, gun raised toward the thing’s head.
It was newly turned, you would’ve guessed, as it still sounded almost human as it cried. The hair on its head hadn't thinned as it usually did with time, and on its arm, you could see the dried blood around where those raised marks originated — the bite. You wondered if the one that bit it was still around, or if this thing had had the sense to shoot it while it had been human.
Stepping into the room, Tommy pulled the trigger, as the Infected turned its head at the noise, mouth opening to let out a shout before it was interrupted by the bullet. You jumped, not expecting the sudden gunshot noise, and you had forgotten just how loud the sound actually was.
Everything was silent for a moment after, both of you holding your breath as you waited for something else to happen. When it was clear after a few seconds, Tommy approached the body, patting pockets and pulling out a small box of pistol ammo, which he stuffed into his own pocket. The thing didn’t have a gun on it, surprisingly. You wondered if it would’ve been here if it had had a gun on it, but chose not to voice that.
When there was a resounding cry, echoing around the hollow wooden walls, Tommy thought his heart was going to stop. There was a door on the wall beside the one you had entered, and he couldn’t tell which way the sound was coming from.
“The corner.” You suggested, nodding over to the corner of the room, so you could have a clear view of both doors, the only possible entrances. Tommy nodded, ushering you over first, and he followed, raising his gun towards the door on the left, while he nodded you toward the one on the right.
Something clattered to the floor in the cabin, and you breathed steadily form your nose, adjusting your grip on the gun just slightly, and keeping your eyes locked onto the doorway.
It let out another yell, much closer than it had been earlier, and Tommy kept his own gun trained on the left doorway. When it smacked into something nearby, Tommy pressed his finger over the trigger, waiting.
The Infected stumbled into the right door, and the gunshot echoed throughout the room, with Tommy letting out a harsh breath as he watched you lower your smoking gun slightly, looking over the top of it to check the thing stayed down. It did.
“Nice going, kid.” Tommy said, slightly begrudgingly, but he couldn’t help feeling something like pride in his chest. You were a good kid, and he hadn't doubted you, but you hadn't let him down. You were as good of a shot in real-life situations as you were in simulated ones. Moving targets didn't prove to be an issue. However, it did mean that he had no excuse for keeping you off of the patrols he’d promised to allow you on.
You smiled. “Told you so.” You said, and raised your gun, looking through the doorway to the left as Tommy searched the second Infected’s pockets for anything of use. Coming up empty handed, he followed you through the second door, watching as you searched through drawers, the room being a dead end. You waved a box of rifle ammunition at him triumphantly. “Better check the rest of the place.”
He nodded, and you went back to following behind him, glad that at least his tense shoulders had loosened the slightest bit after the show of your skill. You could understand his nerves — you wouldn’t like to have a kid completely reliant on you, either. But you could take care of yourself.
Finally, Tommy realised that, too.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
When Joel burst into the Miller home, Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect. His brother had changed over the years, much like he had, and while they remained close, things between them hadn’t been the same since Sarah. Joel hadn’t been the same.
His eyes were wide, his hair unruly, and Tommy realised he’d probably just woken up after taking the night patrol. Joel usually prided himself on being in control during stressful situations, but he was definitely not composed.
“What are you doing here, Joel?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to the man, holding his son in his arms. He had hoped that they could bond over this — fatherhood — but Joel had remained somewhat distant, steering clear of the baby Miller. He wasn’t expecting Joel until later on, an hour or two, at the least, when him and Ellie were meant to be joining Tommy and Maria for dinner, whilst you dined at the dining hall with your new friend.
“I ask you to keep her safe, that’s all I asked of you, and now you’re letting her on patrols?” Joel spat, his voice loud, and Tommy’s son stirred in his arms, distressed at the shouting.
He should’ve expected this — part of him did, which was probably why Tommy hadn’t told Joel about it, even when he asked what had caused you to storm out of the house, all those days ago. Tommy sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in annoyance.
“She asked to go, Joel, I’m not gonna shield her from the world.” Tommy reasoned, shifting his son to hold in one hand, now that he had stirred from where he had been falling asleep. Tommy supposed he’d be missing his afternoon nap, now. They were going to have a grumpy child on their hands, in the coming hours.
“She’s seen enough of the world, Tommy! Why do you think I left her here? You think that was for nothin’?” Joel responded, immediately, a hot feeling settling heavy on his neck as he looked at his brother. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed by leaving you behind, for what? For his little brother to go over his head, and disregard those decisions? You would barely even speak to him. It hurt, and it carved a pain in his chest that was only rivalled by the loss of his first daughter.
Joel thinks of those times he’d tried to reach out, tried to help you understand, and thinks of how you had rejected each attempt. The most civil interaction he’d had with you was delivering that food after the argument you’d had with Tommy — and the two of you had barely spoken.
He thinks of how this might be the rest of his life — reaching for you, and watching you turn away.
Joel knew he’d do it all again in a split second, if it kept you safe. He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if you had joined them, didn’t want to think about the time he had almost lost Ellie, didn’t want to imagine it could’ve been both of you.
Tommy feels bad, for a moment, but he knows that you’re capable of being out there. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shoving you out of the gates on your own! The moment you gave him an inkling of the idea that you didn't want to be out there, he’d be stopping the patrols.
“Joel,” Tommy sighed, because part of him feels pity for his older brother, who struggles far more than he lets on, but he also understands your anger. Two sides of the same coin. “Nobody’s sayin’ that was for nothing. But she’s not some little kid, alright? And I was with her the whole time, nothing was gonna happen to her.”
“You’re not invincible, Tommy,” Joel said, his brows furrowed, and he doesn’t halt himself even as he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, likely drawn by the commotion he’d caused. “And neither is she. God damn it, Tommy.” He raised his hand, holding the bridge of his nose as he turned away from his little brother, trying to gain back some of his composure.
Maria stepped around him, cautiously taking the baby from Tommy’s grip, and said, “What’s going on down here?” She looked between the two brothers, waiting for somebody to answer her.
“He doesn’t want her goin’ on patrols.” Tommy said at last, after silence had lingered for too long, and he didn’t need to say much else for Maria to know who he was talking about.
“Trust me, Joel, I wasn’t thrilled about it, either.” Maria spoke, going to say some more before Joel cut her off, his hand moving from his face to gesture wildly in front of him.
“She’s just a kid!” Joel yelled out, unable to help himself. He thinks back to when the raiders came, to the way panic had gripped him as he shoved Ellie across the street toward his brother’s, and had set off toward the ceramic shop. He remembered his heart beating so wildly in his chest that he thought it might give out, especially when he caught sight of a raider, the gear too reminiscent of a night so long ago, a light shining in his eyes, blinding him, until all he could hear was Sarah. “Don’t you get it?” He asked, almost desperately.
“I get it, Joel.” Maria said, her voice so stern that Joel couldn’t interrupt, even if he had wanted to. He looked to the door on his left, catching sight of the names still written on that chalkboard, and he knows. He looked to Maria, and he could see it on her face. She knew, just as much as he did. “But it’s not our choice. All we can do is try to keep her safe, wherever she goes.”
It helps, for a moment, that there’s somebody who does understand, but then he’s just filled with something burning, and he turns away from the chalkboard before he can imagine your name written up there, next. “If she dies, that’s on you.” He spat, pointing an accusing finger at his younger brother, “And I’ll never forgive you for it.”
Tommy watched his brother turn away, slam the door shut so hard the walls shook, and feels the weight on his shoulders get heavier. He sighed, Maria’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to relieve the burden.
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Jesse’s hands were covered in wet clay, and you could only laugh as he cursed, baring his teeth at the wheel in front of him, covered in splatters of clay. “How the…” He started, trailing off and sputtering when he pressed too hard on the pedal, making a watery clay fly in all directions, including straight to his face.
“Okay, I think that’s enough of that.” You told him, pulling him away from the stool he was sat on, and watching the spinning slow to a stop, Jesse’s miserable attempt at pottery left looking even worse when you could actually see it. He was sulking, you knew before even facing him, and couldn’t help but snicker.
“Oh, shut up. Not everyone can be a damn… whatever you are.” Jesse retorted, glaring at you as your snicker turned into a laugh as he failed to find a phrase for you. “Okay, stop laughing. Stop! It’s not funny!”
You continued grinning at him, as he washed his hands clean of clay remnants, and watched as he dried them on a rag left by the sink. “Oh, come on Jesse, you should know by now that your misery brings me the most joy and entertainment.” You said, smiling sweetly at the boy who had quickly grown comfortable in your space.
When you had actually invited him, you couldn’t recall, but he had a way of just inviting himself into places. You didn’t mind it all that much, despite how tired you were after going on patrol. You were pretty sure that it was from the faded adrenaline, the rush of being back in the real world leaving you wiped out. It had been more than a few months by now since you had been out there, travelling and facing those things every day.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He asked, jokingly, pouting at where you were scraping his failed creation off of the wheel, throwing the clay in the bucket beside the machine, where you usually threw your own failed attempts.
“Hey, you know where the door is.” You replied, not turning to look at him despite finishing cleaning the wheel as you said it. You didn't want to think about the truth of the words, or why the concept made your chest ache in a painfully familiar way. Why did you do this to yourself?
“Not going anywhere,” Jesse said, a hint of truth to his words, and you turned to glance at him, if only to give him a raised eyebrow in response. “I mean, who else is gonna tell me the story of their very first patrol?”
You shook your head at him, despite the way his words relieved the ache the smallest bit, and sighed. “I mean, when you put it that way…” You trailed, rolling your eyes when he sat himself down on another stool, leaning forward and looking at you like he was a child, waiting for story time.
As you told the story, you made it more dramatic, just for his sake, though it was entertaining you, too, even if you wouldn’t admit that aloud.
Tommy, stood outside the shop door, listened as you told it, feeling that weight on his shoulders pull him down further as you got closer to the end of your tale, laughter shared between you and Jesse at the exaggerated details. He laid his head against the frame, sighing heavily when he caught your final words, “You should’ve seen it, man. We were the dream team. Fighting off Infected, saving the cabin, one bullet at a time.”
Jesse laughed, and you joined, sure the grin on your face would never be wiped away in that moment. “You gotta convince him to bring me!”
“Hm, maybe one day, asshole.” You responded, rolling your eyes at the pleading expression Jesse was sending your way.
“Come on, I’m a way better shot than I am… potter-er.” He justified, sighing when you laughed at his choice of words, echoing it in a disbelieving tone.
Tommy walked away from the shop, unsure what to do about the weight that was getting too heavy for his aged joints.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
It had been around four months since you had started doing patrols, but only two weeks since you’d been doing them without Tommy. Spring had been leaking into summer when you had started, but now, the days were dropping colder, clouds looking heavier by the day.
This morning, you felt an inkling of nerves as you looked to the sky, worried about it finally storming, like the sky had been threatening for the past few days. You hated when your worries were proved correct.
“Shit, it’s getting bad out here.” You said loudly, squinting your eyes to see through the quickly-thickening snow that was falling. It was settling against the ground in deep blankets, surprisingly quickly. You didn’t think this winter would be as bad as last years, but it seemed you were proved wrong there, at least.
“Should we go find shelter?” Jesse yelled back from behind you, his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his horse as close to yours as he could.
“I don’t know if these buildings have been cleared!” You responded, feeling your heart thrum heavily in your chest as you looked through the falling snowflakes at the buildings around you. They were mostly houses, with one building that looked like it could’ve held offices.
“What other option do we have?” Jesse asked. You huffed, surprising yourself as you agreed with his thought process — you were at risk the longer you stayed out here, and the horses might not make it all the way back to Jackson. Especially as the snow on the ground got thicker, your horse getting nervous as she treaded through it. You patted her neck as soothingly as you could, looking back towards where Jesse was following, and you hated how you regretted convincing Tommy to let him come along.
You were meant to be travelling with another patroller from Jackson, but he had turned back a while ago, complaining of a stomach issue. You grit your teeth, recalling how he had nervously surveyed the clouds as the first sprinkle of snow had appeared. He had convinced Jesse it would be fine to go along without his guidance, and you hated how the two of you had trusted his judgement.
“Okay,” You relented, turning your horse to head towards a house opposite the office building. “That one’s got a garage! We can get the horses in there.”
Jesse followed you as you led the way, and you huffed a breath that disappeared between falling snowflakes, nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You got off of your horse, handing the reins to Jesse where he was perched upon his own, and you hefted the garage door up with a bit of difficulty, cringing at the way the metal screeched. You peered underneath, seeing no sign of Infected as it got halfway, but your head snapped up when you heard something in the distance, barely there over the swirling winds.
“We good?” Jesse urged, his teeth chattering, and you looked at him before nodding, lifting the garage door up the rest of the way. He pulled your horse alongside him as he rode inside, and you pulled the door shut behind you as you followed.
The temperature wasn’t much better in the garage, but the lack of snow falling on you certainly helped. You let out a deep breath, watching it cloud the air in front of your face, and let your head fall back against the wall behind you.
“You okay?” Jesse asked hesitantly, pulling his wet gloves from his hands and rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth.
“Yeah,” You responded, almost absently, and looked up when Jesse said your name, “Just— Just thinking of how Tommy’s gonna kill that asshole, when he gets back without us.”
Jesse smiled, scoffing out a slight laugh despite the situation, and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, he’s dead meat.” He let a moment of silence pass, not wanting to voice the thought that you’d also just had, that Tommy might not be back in Jackson, either. He was sent on a route in the opposite direction, to take out a dozen Infected with a small group of others. Jesse cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into his pocket. “So, when we get back, I was thinking…”
“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” You interrupted, grinning at the roll of his eyes.
“I was thinking,” He repeated, “Maybe I should introduce you to my friend, Dina.”
You raised your eyebrows, snickering at the nerves in his tone as he suggested it. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to meet your friend Dina.” You reminded, after you had seen him trying to chat the girl up. You thought she had seemed into it, but apparently that meant you weren’t allowed to meet her, lest you embarrass Jesse in front of his crush.
“I have reconsidered. Shut up.” He responded when you snickered. “Don’t make me change my mind!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d love to meet her.” You said, continuing to grin when he groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, clearly regretting making the suggestion already. He was pretty sure the two of you would team up against him. “You sit there and suffer, I’m gonna check the house out.”
Jesse frowned, moving to follow you, but you waved him away, knowing that he was annoyingly better with the horses. You thought of what had happened to him when you’d not long become friends, and grinned to yourself.
You held your gun up as you left the garage, looking in each room carefully, methodically, like you had done it hundreds of times before. You didn’t keep count, so really, you might have.
The house was empty, of almost everything, clearly ransacked a long time ago. At least a few years, you would’ve guessed, looking at the way dust and cobwebs had settled on ruined furniture, cracked family photos. You picked a broken frame up, twisting it in your hand, and frowned as you saw the way the crack marred the faces of the family in the photo.
Upstairs was arguably worse, the bedrooms completely destroyed, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the family who had lived here was still alive. You were sure they would hate to see what had become of what had once been their home, so part of you hoped they weren’t.
You looked at a wardrobe that had been completely disassembled, clothes torn out and strewn across the floor, old sentimental pieces left to rot on the dusty carpet. You stepped towards the window, moving aside the blue curtain, and peered outside at the worsening storm. You squinted at the ground, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, until you saw that the footprints were definitely there.
And they were coming from the opposite way you and Jesse had appeared from, heading straight toward the front door.
With a new sense of urgency, you gripped the gun in your hand tightly, stepping down the stairs as quickly as you could without completely giving away your presence. You peered around the corner, seeing a mass of black clothes moving outside the frosted glass of the front door.
“Jesse!” You hissed, stepping into the garage and watching him jump where he had been petting your horse’s neck. He stood straighter, eyebrows furrowing as you shut the garage door gently behind you, gripping your gun as if your life depended on it. “We’ve got company. We need to get out of here.”
He nodded, shoving down his fear and starting to grasp the reins of the horses, beginning the frustratingly slow process of turning them around in such a small space. “How long?”
“Not long enough.” You acknowledged, ear pressed to the door leading to the rest of the house, and you heard the doorknob rattle. “Get the horses ready, I’ll buy us some time.”
Jesse said your name nervously, but you shot him down, urging him to just do what you say with a look he hadn't seen before in your eyes. You opened the door, peering around the corner the slightest bit, gun aimed towards the door. You took a deep breath, steadying your aim as they finally got it open, two rushing in immediately.
The first one went down, dropped to the floor with a single bullet to the neck, and you tried to tune out the way he gargled. The woman who followed him ducked to the side, pressing against it, and you shot the third person who peered around the doorway, saying nothing when they yelled out a curse, injured, but not dead.
You didn't know how many there were. That was making you more nervous than you could comprehend, especially as you shot a fourth who tried to enter, watching her fall to the snow outside, and trying not to focus on the blood that stained the white blanket when somebody dragged her body out of the way.
A shot far too close to you made you duck back into the garage, turning your head to see Jesse turning his horse the right way. He gave you a thumbs up when they were ready, and you nodded, flinching halfway through at the shot that settled in the wood just above your shoulder.
With a huff, you slammed the door shut, pulling a cabinet in front of it with a heave that made your arms ache, the wood far heavier than you had expected. It clattered in front of the door, stopping the people on the other side from entering as you heard several sets of footsteps rushing in, the moment the door closed.
“Get on!” You urged, reaching for the bottom of the garage door and heaving it open in one quick movement, grasping onto your horse and fighting the panic when you struggled to get on her. “Go!” You yelled to Jesse, following him a moment after when you were on your horse.
Blood was rushing through your ears, tinting the snow falling around you a faint red around the edges of your vision, and you gripped the reins tighter. When shots began firing from behind you, you leaned your chest down, closer to your horse, and tried to hurry her into going faster, unable to feel the pity you usually would for forcing speed in such terrible conditions.
A shot to the glass of the office building drew your attention, and you heard the glass shatter behind you, but your eyes were unable to turn back to see what followed when Jesse cried out, sliding off of his horse in the moment of shock.
You pulled your horse to a stop when his own rode off, too panicked to stop and wait for his rider. “Jesse!” You yelled, hand going low as you leaned to the side, using the hand he grasped onto you with to help get him on your own horse. “Come on, come on.” You urged again, your heart hammering as you saw the drops of blood that stained the snow where he had fallen. “You asshole, hold on!”
When Jesse grasped firmly onto you with one arm, you hurried your horse forward again, knowing it would only be more difficult for her with the added weight. As soon as you got to the forest cover, it would be okay, you had to assure yourself.
Groaning behind you only panicked you further, and you felt your pulse in your throat as shuffling in the snow grew louder, before some of the gunshots stopped coming, the sound of screams filling your ears.
It blurred in your mind, the moment you reached the tree cover, only just remembering to look back behind Jesse to check you weren’t being followed when you had travelled for a few minutes. You felt Jesse slipping before he could say anything about it, and you had to stop the horse when he slipped so far you only just stopped him from falling. You couldn’t remember doing it, but you eventually got him draped over the horse in front of you, and you held a hand firmly on him as you urged the horse to go faster.
Getting back to Jackson was the easiest part, with the route melded into your mind, and despite the snow that covered everything, you knew the way.
The lookouts didn’t see you until you were almost at the gate, where they yelled for you to be let in. Multiple people poured out, helping you get Jesse off of the horse as you dismounted, and watched them carry him in, with him managing only weak steps where he was held up between two shoulders. When Tommy rushed up to you, his hands grasping your face, you wondered if Jesse had been speaking to you, that whole time, because at first, you couldn’t hear his voice.
“Are you hurt? Kid, are you hurt?” He demanded, tapping a hand against your cheek when your eyes drifted to where Jesse disappeared between the gates.
You shook your head, “‘M fine. We— we got ambushed, they’re still out there.” You responded almost absently, letting out a harsh exhale and feeling Tommy’s hands fall from your face, as he swore and brought a hand up to his head. “What? What is it?” You asked, your attention finally caught.
“Joel, he went out after you.” Tommy replied, reluctantly, and you felt your heart drop.
“What?” You asked, wanting him to repeat it to ensure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, that this hadn’t been the breaking point. “Joel’s out there?” When Tommy nodded, a sense of urgency went through you, and you stepped back, grasping the reins of your horse from whoever had grabbed hold of them.
You shuffled your way atop the horse, getting on and turning her around before Tommy could quite comprehend what you were doing. His eyes widened and he stepped towards you, hands out, pleading, and you hated the look on his face as you rode away.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Your name being called in the distance caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the sound, where it was being yelled between gunshots. You swore, and rode on further, until you could finally see what faced you.
From the tree line, you could see the bodies of the people who had attempted to ambush you, half trampled by the horde of over a dozen Infected, which were swarming around as they were picked off slowly, from a house to the side of the one you had been in. You saw the glint of a gun coming from the shattered window of the living room.
Holding the reins still, you grasped onto your gun, adjusting your grip to accommodate the leather in your hand. You fired a single shot into the face of one of the runners, who was making too much progress in getting toward the window. You could only hope that it was Joel, as the sound of your name had fallen to a pause.
Between you and who you hoped was Joel, the hoard was picked off in no time, with them barely paying you any attention from your spot in the distance. Only one had come toward you, and it was dead before you could even change your aim.
“Joel?” You yelled, nerves making your throat clog up, and you squinted through the falling snow that had slowed during your shooting. “Joel?” You shouted again, louder that time, pushing past the lump in your throat.
He responded, calling your name, and you slid off of your horse, wrapping the reins around a branch and rushing to head towards the sound. When you peered through the broken window, stepping around bodies of humans and Infected alike, you saw him there, hand gripping tightly over a bleeding wound in his thigh. Joel’s shoulders fell when he saw you, a breath of relief leaving him, rushing out in a cloud that blocked the image of his face for a moment.
You stepped through the window frame, hissing when broken glass nicked your palm, and you held out your hand to help him stand. His bare hand grasped your gloved one, and you frowned for a moment, before focusing on pulling him to his unsteady feet.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, after he was finally stood on his own feet without your assistance. “You know what, don’t answer that.”
He said your name, and you whirled around to face him fully from where you had turned towards the doorway. “Please, let’s…”
“Let’s what, Joel?” You questioned, desperation leaking into the tone of your voice. “Let’s hug and make up after you almost got yourself killed? Is that it?”
“I came out here to help you!” He defended, looking at you with a pleading expression, his hand covered in blood as he pressed it harder against his leg.
“I didn’t need your help, Joel!” You yelled, hands waving in the air in your exasperation. “I had it covered. I’m not that same kid that needed saving, don’t you get that? You saved me. You already saved me, so why do you keep trying to get a do over?”
He gaped at you, for a moment, and couldn’t answer.
Joel thought of you, the face that was so much different from the one that looked at him now, thought of the way you had clung to him and Tess, as if your life depended on it. He supposed, it might’ve. He wonders if that’s why it hurt so much, that you pulled away, that it was an admission that you didn’t need him.
You stared at him, the man who had held on to you back at Boston QZ, who had done that despite the way it made his skin crawl, made his heart race. You knew now that he must’ve thought of his daughter, each time you looked to him with scared eyes, looked to him for answers, for protection. Knew that he must’ve been stuck in that day, all those years before, where he had failed at the first daughter who had looked to him that way.
“Please,” Joel repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say, or do, other than beg you for something he wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Did he want forgiveness? “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to. But look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, the way you gripped your gun where you had slung it over your shoulder, the way he held onto a bleeding wound. “All I ever do is fail you, again and again and again. I couldn’t keep doing it. I failed Tess. I failed Sam, Henry… I couldn’t fail you. Not again.”
You stared at him, at the open wound he wasn’t attempting to hide, and you couldn’t stop the pull of your lips as you bared your teeth at him, swallowing the lump in your throat that made your eyes sting. You wondered, then, if showing your own unhealed wound would change anything, but you didn't think it would. You didn’t think anything could change the distance between the two of you.
With the heart in your chest aching, though for what, you couldn’t decipher, you shook your head, tilting it up towards the water-stained ceiling of this house. “Joel, that isn’t…” You sighed, closing your eyes, knowing that his expression would make you crack. “No, it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to— to come back to Jackson, to come out here to protect me. You left me behind, so what? I’d be safe?”
His chest was painful, feeling so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever rise if he let his lungs empty, so he held his breath, staring at you as you refused to look at him.
“I was safest when I was with you.” You admitted, and Joel didn’t fail to notice the past tense of that sentence. “I was scared of losing you, of losing Ellie, like I had lost everybody else. I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to stay with you both. You made my fear come to life.”
Joel frowned, not moving as you stepped forward, finally looking at him, to point an accusing finger towards his chest. He said your name, wanting nothing more than to reach out for you, to hold you close and swear he’d keep you safe, but he was starting to realise your perspective. He was starting to realise that to you, he had failed. The moment he had left you behind, he had failed.
“And I hate you for it.” You added, arms falling to your sides, despite the way your fists clenched, just aching to hit him where it hurt, to not stop until he felt how you did.
“I’ll…” He trailed off, sure his next words would be the wrong ones, but he didn’t know what else he could say. “I’ll leave, if you want me to. I’ll go and I won’t come back, but only if you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you again.”
“You can’t just… put that on me.” You said desperately, turning to the window and taking another step away from him. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m not sure how much I want you to stay, either.”
Joel blinked away the tears that were coming to his eyes as he looked at you, feeling like the two of you were miles apart.
“I don’t forgive you.” You told him, gritting your teeth, “And I don’t know if I ever will, but I…” You trailed off, looking out to where your horse was still stood in the faltering snow, suddenly feeling a harsh pang of guilt for leaving her there. “Let’s just get home, okay?”
“Okay.” Joel agreed, unsure what else he could do. Maybe, you were right, and you wouldn’t ever forgive him. Maybe he would live out the rest of his days, with only memories of you, only catching a glimpse of you as he passed you in Jackson, with you not sparing him a glance, as if the two of you were strangers. He doesn’t know if he can quite cope with that.
He tried to hold some hope in the fact that you were here, you had come back out here, for him, as he followed you out of the door of the house, limping his way to your horse, frowning where his own had been taken down by the horde. He tried not to linger on the thought.
You settled behind him on your own horse, and it hurt his chest, thinking that this is the exact way the two of you had been when riding into Jackson the first time. He hoped everything didn’t fall apart again, like it had before.
When your forehead rested against his back, complete exhaustion falling heavily on your shoulders, Joel tried not to hope.
He had never been good at such things, when it came to you.
PART FIVE
▹ — if the door wasn’t shut taglist (all parts): @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats @kakimakiloh @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @poliars @esstark @bella820 @gtxbitch
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salmonskinrolltf · 8 months
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Soulmates 2
[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]
Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:
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And this is my roommate, Dylan:
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Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.
Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.
Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.
TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS
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Hello, my name is Dylan:
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Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.
I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.
I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.
But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…
TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED
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What’s up, I’m Tyler.
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You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.
I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.
On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.
TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT
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Yo, I’m Dylan.
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Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.
I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.
Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.
TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE
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Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.
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God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.
Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.
But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!
TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING
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Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.
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Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.
I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.
Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.
Fuck it.
TYLER WAS BORN GAY
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Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?
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Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.
I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.
What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.
I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…
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pressureplus · 15 days
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Can I request a sebastian x scene fem!reader? At first I was going to choose gyaru but someone already made it. Reader often visits Sebastian's shop to talk and Sebastian often asks about her scene style.
I got you brother, as a lover of the Scene/Gyaru styles myself, I'm gonna have some fun!
Your Name
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Pairings: Sebastian Solace x Scene!Fem!Reader
Au: Classic
Warnings: Romance, Sebastian is bad at feelings
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜
“Its you again.” His voice is smooth and calm, hands clasped together the way they always are everytime you wander into his shop. You manage to wiggle your hips right on through and finally crawl into his shop. God these vents are an uncomfortable squeeze sometimes. You stand up, running your hands through your hair in a weak attempt to fix the mess as you walk over to Sebastian.
“Yeah, hey. My bad I know I promised Id be here sooner but my hair has been a-”
“Let me.” He hums and swats your hands away gently, you two more than friendly enough for him to touch you. Even though he wasn't particularly an overly touchy man he still allowed himself to reach out for you every now and then. Plus he didn't just shoot or throw you whenever you reached out to touch him either. What was special about you? You had no idea. A part of you assumed it had something to do with his curiosity. It seems he had never really seen somebody with your style before. The fluffier and ‘weird’ hair, the multicolored charms and jewelry you had on. He’d found you strange to begin with but eventually grew very very curious. All his questions leading him to requesting you come back so you could answer more at a later date. Now you come in whenever you can, now that you think about it, maybe its the familiarity he likes?
“You really should be more careful- I don't exactly have hair ties and hairspray laying around. Expendable or not, don't be clumsy and stupid.” He notes as his hands comb through your hair. His touch is gentle as he tries not to accidentally claw your scalp while fixing it for you. You're certain the position he’s bent himself into to do this for you can't be comfortable. Still you allow it. For a while you both remain silent, the closeness leaving you a little pink, not that he seems to notice.
“Ah, Im trying my best, but I swear Pandemonium has it out for me.”
“That bastard again?” You can almost watch his eye twitch as he huffs. His hands finally moving away from your head to reach into his bags. He sort of messes around with the items in there before managing to pull out a hair tie. Odd how despite claiming he doesn’t have one, he has one available for you? You're half expecting him to hand it to you, but no. He spins you around himself to tie it up for you.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting your hair out of your face. You want to survive, don't you?”
“Of course I do, but I mean…why are you putting it up for me? I have hands you know.”
“Your bracelets get caught sometimes. Don't think I haven't noticed that.” You pause.
“Youve been paying attention to me?”
“Whenever you're in my shop? Yes. I've got to watch everyone's hands, Y/N.” You sit in a shaken silence. He seems quick to join you and for a moment his hands still. He’s gone and called you by your name. You're fairly certain, based on the sudden stillness, that he didn't want you to know he knew it. At the very least he hadn't meant to call you that. You'd gotten aggressively called Expendable since the moment you signed up for this job. Honestly, your own name sounded foreign on his tongue. He clears his throat and finishes up with tying your hair back.
“Its done, you can leave now.”
“No wait- Dont you have questions for me today?”
“Nope.” He turns his head away, face red. His arms quickly crossing over his chest. A silently defensive position you've grown accustomed to whenever you push one too many buttons.
“Oh come on, don't be shy just because you called me by my name. I'm not gonna tease you for it!”
“Dont care. Get out.”
“Sebastian, come on! You were so happy to learn about my belt collection back at home just yesterday!”
“And I'm not today. You may leave, escort yourself out, remove yourself from the premises, or whatever terms you want to use.”
“You know considering I never told you my name in the first place, and you never cared enough to ask, you must've been looking for it.”
“No-”
“Have you been trying to find out my name, Sebastian? Clearly you managed it. Is it safe to assume you like me?” You attempt to tease him and he’s quick to shift himself down to your height again. A hand grabbing you by the front of your gear and tugging you up towards his face. A low rumbling growl emanating from him, teeth bared.
“I didn't go looking for it, and I certainly don't like you. Remember who you're…talking…” He trails off. His eyes locked on yours. He can't help the almost doe eyed expression he makes, his teeth no longer fully exposed and his mouth slightly ajar. As though he’d entirely lost his train of thought. From this close you could see every little fleck of blue in his eyes individually. Even glowing you could see the slightest of color changes.
“You uh…you alright?” You mutter as he stares. He’s slow when he releases you, his face pulling away a bit. A silence settles between you two for a moment before he speaks up again.
“Your eyeliner.”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you uh, always do it like that?”
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pixeljade: #it IS very much a complex issue and I feel like saying that has been pissing off a lot of folks on both sides #one fact i would add to the table is that the current actions against palestine DO constitute a genocide by definition #its a word i hear pro-Israel people get very upset by because they think it is inherently comparing this to the holocaust #but its not. some people DO and thats its own discussion. but calling it a “genocide” is simply accurate and undeniable
Speaking as someone who was that pro-Israel person in her teens and very early 20s, the reactions you're describing are 800% cognitive dissonance freak outs. Most of these people, like me, received either directly or indirectly from their Elders in the Jewish community a very trauma-induced and deeply emotional information about the history of this situation, which boils down to: "They tried to kill us all once and they didn't now we finally have returned to the Promised Land, the only place we have to shield ourselves against It Happening Again. Israel's detractors hate that Jews can defend themselves now, and if any of them, including the Palestinians, were to have their way, they'd see us all dead. We must defend ourselves at all costs, and not let anyone ever put us in existential danger as a people ever again."
And then to have some rando 19 year old who knows jack shit about your or your community or your community's trauma to get up in your face and start screaming at you about genocide? It's only going to trigger that intergenerational trauma, and cause the party being screamed at to dig deeper into their defensive, cognitive-dissonance fueled response. Which, if we were to boil that response down to a thought process, looks like "This person hates me and all Jews. They think we're a hive mind who don't deserve to live. Thank G-d for Israel."
What's complex, is that not everything in that trauma response is wrong, and not everything the dumbass 19 yo who has no interest in unpacking their own learned anti-Semitism was wrong.
Israel's actions towards Palestinian Arabs since 1948 does fit several definitions of genocide and/or ethnic cleansing. And many of the Westerners who scream about it the loudest are fairly openly anti-Semitic.
Now, as someone with big Holocaust intergenerational trauma in her family, I am sympathetic to the Jewish kid in this scenario. But cognitive dissonance is just that: the domain of a child. Adults understand that cognitive dissonance is a little voice in our head telling us "Hey comrade our discomfort with this is a little much. Maybe this is a learning opportunity?"
I mean, that's what I did. But it's difficult. Its uncomfortable, and that scares people. It's much easier to believe that "They call it the Naqba because they hate us and think our survival and access to national self-determination is a disaster,"* than it is to understand that "They call it the Naqba because it was the near total dispossession and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arab populations from their generational homes and properties."
And again, everything I'm saying here is a result of my journey from a hardcore Zionist-in-the-contemporary-sense child (though always left in terms of domestic US Politics), to a grown Holocaust historian who understands that Israel is no better and no worse than all the other nation states (for new readers, I understand the nation-state as a political entity, the logical end point of which is genocide and/or ethnic cleansing), and openly criticizes it on those grounds.
*A rabbi in a youth group I belonged to told me this almost verbatim when I was 15. And when you're 15 and somebody tells you they love you you're gonna believe them.
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mikobeautifulheart · 7 months
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Megumi x reader 'first date'
TW: leave if you have gojo-phobia because he's going to be anoying in this one.
eh like maybe a 100 words at mosttt
Rblogs welcomed if u were wondering. JUST NO ITS NOT EDITED.
'I'll be at your dorm at 9:00, wear something comfortable' you read the text from Megumi over and over, your heart racing even faster ever time.
It was your first offical date with Megumi and he hasn't said anything about what it is. The only thing you knew was that Megumi was going to be here any minute.
You slipped out your uniform and into an outfit fit for a warm night like tonight. You and Megumi have spent hours the entire school day sending each other love sick gazes and awkward conversations. That's exactly why Gojo was sitting on top of the dormitory, waiting to catch somebody(s) sneaking out.
Gojo already knew something was up after the other night when he caught you guys in Megumis dorm, but he couldn't help but think something was up when Megumi turned red after looking at his phone.
You lied on your bed when you heard a knock at the door. It was Megumi, it had to be.
It was, you opened the door to a casual dressed Megumi holding a small handful of flowers. You could tell they were from the back of the school where plants were over grown and unkept.
It didn't bother you because the flowers were arranged and were wrapped with a blue ribbon tied into the prettiest bow. He must have looked and only picked out the flowers he thought he were the 'best'.
"Aww Megumi" you said taking the flowers he handed you and giving his cheek a quick peck.
His ears were red.
"When your done were going to need to sneak out" He said leaning in your door way as you willed a glass of water for the flowers.
"Okay" you said with a wide smile making his heart skip a bit.
When you looked at him you just realised he was holding two rolled up towels under his arm.
"Are we going to ues those" you said looking at the towels.
"Yeah." He said
You walked out the door and closed it behind you before linking your arm with Megumi's and walking down the doors hallway.
Megumi slowly opened the front door not letting it make a single creak. He held it open for you to walk through before shutting it gentely.
"So, where are we going" you whispered over the sound of crickets.
"You'll see" he said, a small smile growing
you both walked through the forest at the side of Jujutsu high and carefully stepped through bushes.
"I don't get it Megumi, where are we even going? There's nothing surrounding jujutsu high" you said looking down to try not trip over a fallen tree branch.
Just then a small gust of wind blew your hair back and you looked up to see a small beach infront of you.
You were astounded the sound of waves calmly leaving the shore made you feel like it was all a dream.
Megumi put the towels down near the forest and walked over to you holding a frisbee. You looked at it and started to walk backward with your arms up waiting for him to throw, but instead of catching a Frisbee, Megumi summoned his demon dogs that chased after you also waiting to catch the frisbee.
In the woods Gojo walked carefully hearing yours laugh and maybe most importantly, Megumi's laugh. Gojo was there for most of Megumi's life, he had been through alot, so hearing him laugh whole heartedly made him proud. Sure you weren't supposed to be out this late but he couldn't help but smile at the sound of Megumi laugh.
Fine, he'll let it slide, but not before getting a picture of you two and his dogs playing.
THANKS FOR READING ♡
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AUTHORS NOTE: This is appart of my Meguimi growing up in Gojos eyes series. Don't worry most of the fics have little to no correlation, we build as we gooooo. If u have ideas or what u wanna read PLEASE REQUEST my inbox is so empty I'll die. Thanks for reading ig.
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ftrcountry · 11 months
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The One With The Test
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I just want to say rip to a one of a kind actor, Matthew Perry. I still can't believe it :( May he finally rest in peace.
Summary: I watched Fools Rush In Today and this sparked the idea for this fic. I hope you enjoy!
It was New Year's Eve in New York City. People were out partying and hanging out with their family and friends. Snow was slowly falling down in the cold crisp air. This was yet another New Years eve party without a date. You weren't particularly upset as you grown used to this. You were currently standing outside on the balcony watching the snowflakes fall all around. "somebody kiss me at midnight!" You heard Chandler go around asking each one of your friends in the apartment. You let out a small laugh. Oh sweet Chandler. You haven't told no one but you were starting to develop feelings for your best friend. You were just afraid to say anything in fear it might ruin the relationship the two of you have. You bit your lip, an idea popping into your mind. You had a lot to drink tonight so you had more courage than usual. You were going to catch Chandler off guard and kiss him at midnight.
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Everyone was gathered around the tv counting down from ten. 10 9 Rachel was with Ross. Phoebe with Mike. 8 7 Monica with Richard Joey with one of his flings. 6 5 You took a deep breath as you walked up to Chandler. 4 3 You grabbed a fist full of Chandler's shirt. 2 1 Cheers erupted, people clapped at the start of the New Year as you pulled Chandler close and pressed your lips to his. Chandler tensed for a moment before you felt his lips kissing you back. His hand fell to your waist. "You wanted someone to kiss you at midnight." You whispered breathlessly as you pulled apart from him. You were flustered as Chandler pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. "You have no idea how long I wanted this." Chandler finally spoke, giving you one of his charming smiles.
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After the party, you ended up at Chandler and Joey's. Both you and Chandler were a little more than tipsy. After a hot, passionate round of the best sex you ever had, you were cuddled up to Chandler's side. "Wow." was the only words to escape your and Chandler's mouth.
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Three Months Later Since that night on New Year's, you and Chandler decided to make it official. Everything was wonderful and you were so happy until three months later you were sitting on the bathroom tiled floor holding a positive pregnancy test. You've never been this scared in your life. You knew this would freak Chandler out and run him off. This would most likely be the end of the relationship and you might be a single mom. Before you could think about the future, there was a knock on the bathroom. "Y|N, you okay?" It was Chandler. With a shaky breath, you stood up with the positive pregnancy test. With trembling hands, you opened the door revealing Chandler. Concern was written on his face as you were in the bathroom for quite a while. His eyes flickered down to the test in your hands. His eyes widen and he jumped back. "Y|N. Please don't tell me that-" He stopped speaking. A tear slipped down your face as you nodded. You couldn't look at him. "I used a condom. Lot's of them." "Well, one didn't work." "But that's its job! It's whole purpose in life is... to work!!" Chandler was freaking out at this point. He ran his hand through his hair, pacing back and worth. He went into the kitchen got a glass of water and chugged it down. You started playing with the test in your hands out of nervousness. "I'm keeping the baby" You stammered. Chandler's eyes flew up to yours. "What?" He questioned. He was not ready to be a father. You knew he was expecting the other options that you were going to do. Keeping the baby was not one of them. He looked upset and this was where the relationship would end. You dropped the test on the counter, tears falling down your face. "Goodbye Chandler." You whispered before running out of the apartment.
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Rain droplets fell into the night in New York City. You were currently at Monica's, sitting on the couch with a leg pulled up to your chest. Monica, Rachel and Phoebe were all sitting around trying to comfort you. It's been a little over twenty four hours since you and Chandler had the falling out regarding the baby. "I'm sure it's a simple misunderstanding. You guys are having a baby! Chandler would never leave you alone to deal with this. He's probably just scared." Monica said, rubbing your back. "You should've seen the look on his face. It was full of fear, concern and he was just upset. He didn't have words." You cried, wiping your eyes with a tissue. Before anyone could say anything, the door opened and Chandler walked in. You looked down at your hands in your lap. He had one hand in his pocket and the other scratching the back of his neck. Monica, Phoebe and Rachel got the queue and grabbed their things and left. "Hey." Chandler spoke softly, walking over. "Hi." You sniffled. Chandler came around and sat on the coffee table right in front of you. "I'm sorry Y|N. I panicked and didn't have the words to comfort you and to be there when you needed me. This is big news." Chandler spoke up. "If you don't want to be in the baby's life, that's fine. I can do this on my own." At this point you still couldn't look at Chandler. You felt sick to your stomach, whether that was morning sickness or your nerves you weren't sure. "Just wait a minute. Look at me, Y|N." Chandler spoke, taking your hands in his. You finally looked up into his eyes. He was staring with so much adoration in his eyes at you. "This afternoon, I couldn't decide between a Texas burger and a tuna melt, but my life made sense, you know? And now I know exactly want I want, and my life doesn't make any sense. And I was doing fine this afternoon. I was doing great. That was me. It was me then. And now I'm with you and I don't know what happened between the tuna melt and the Texas burger but I WANT this with you Y|N. I never thought about my future before until we happened. I want this with our baby." By the time Chandler finished his speech, you had tears rolling down your face. Chandler slid over to the couch right next to you and pulled you close. You buried your face into his chest as he rubbed your back, kissing the top of your head. "Everything is going to be okay, Y|N. I love you so much and I already love this baby."
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y-rhywbeth2 · 10 months
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I know we sickos all love the tragic memory of Durge killing their parents as a child, but honestly - as a lover of interpreting Durge as a tragic eldricht horror cuckoo/changeling creature - my favourite memory is baby Durge playing tag with the other children in a "time before Bhaal".
They're being gentle with their friends, but the narration explicitly describes them as hunting and compares them to a predator. If Durge pities their child self the narration just goes: "Mayhaps that child was already a murderer." "Oh, sorry, did you think this was a happy memory?" asks the game before it points and laughs at your naivete.
You pair that with the little cuckoo killing their foster parents and it's very much like somebody took in a baby predator. Sure, it hasn't grown into its claws and aggression but then we reach the starting point of puberty and suddenly the once cuddly baby is a danger to everyone around it.
Oh, except that apparently there's a chance that Durge was already killing things as a baby!
We know they were aware of Sceleritas following them around when they were young, occasionally talking to them as he does in the dead family memory - even if he hadn't presented himself yet. Even if he doesn't always speak, did Durge grow up seeing him out of the corner of their eye?
The fun thing about Durge is that we get to make our own character out of the scraps we're given, so all of it is up to us to decide for our own characters/playthroughs.
I interpret Durge as being like the Bhaalspawn we meet in Throne of Bhaal, Gavid, and the 3.5e tieflings - they've always known they were different. Always had dark urges and whispers in their mind, coming from the essence in their blood.
Kids have accidents around them, pets go missing. Maybe they have black outs, maybe they're aware but can't stop (small children aren't exactly masters of impulse control). We know from a later memory that Durge feels self-hatred regarding their urges, so presumably they learnt enough to know this is wrong and feel guilt. Do they still feel pain and nausea if they resist? I'm going to assume for my own take that since they got the Urge back then, they did.
I wonder if their family ever took them to wizards and clerics, trying to find out if their child was cursed?
Then that family dies. Violently. Graphically. Another tragic accident taking place around the twitchy weird kid who sees monsters and hears voices.
If you play paladin then the Oathbreaker Knight tells you that you've broken your oath multiple times, so I assume that these disasters didn't stop happening.
And judging from the fact that they showed uncharacteristic compassion to a homeless person at the peak of their "I'm such an evil bastard villains like Elder Brains and the God of Tyranny are impressed" era, I think that Durge ended up homeless themselves at some point between losing their parents and joining the temple (I'm also pretty sure that's the period of their life the cannibalism memory happened in).
And then they "came of age" (I recall the age of majority being 15 in the Realms at some point, but can't find that anywhere so don't take my word for it) and Sceleritas introduces himself, and it's time for a family history lesson that explains everything and Orin gets a sibling she absolutely never wanted, ever - put that thing back in the ditch it came from, so help me.
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wallapology · 10 months
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Hey guys here’s a handy-dandy list for all of you to experience thoschei throughout the years
Theta and Koschei: toxic childhood gifted kid friends to lovers ez— outspoken extrovert and shy introvert who goes along with it
Adult Theta and Koschei: Newlyweds to Newly-Disastered to Newly divorced
Threegado: Corporate and/or academic frenemies. There is mutual respect there, and I respect that
Crispy/Four/Crispyainley: Gym bros that motivate each other “u good bro?” “No” to “glad you’re doing better man let’s swordfight”
FiveAinley: Man who is absolutely oblivious to all intentions of his ex (or, at least, pretends to be. And loves being a Bertie Wooster type)
SixAinley: “Oh god not you again” but its both of them so
SevenAinley: Typical hero/villain rivalry (not fun and or sexy)
EightRoberts/war stuff: That BUT they give each other space to live and grow as human beings happy for them
NineRoberts: I mean they didn’t really meet but goddamn would the pining after the master be fucking insane
That or he is just very mad
TenSimm: I don’t want to say yaoi. But. Yaoi with feelings and they’re specifically high schoolers who are both really into P!ATD and MCR and they thought their middle school relationship was waaaaay more serious than it actually was. Like this pairing was MADE for the people who have never actually found love
Twissy: Stockholm syndrome (I’m never gonna stop making that joke sorry about it)
Nah just kidding 100% old married couple
TwelveSimm/ Silver!Simm (fanon): Lowkey Simm is himself but grown up. He’s in his 30s-40s, still a little bitter from lack of connection, but is in a genuinely satisfying relationship for the first time; like a shelter cat finding his forever home, and 12 is somewhat annoyed but glad he’s come around.
Spydoc: They’re gym bros again but they’re on different teams and the guy from the other district is taking this race WAY TOO PERSONALLY, while the other one can’t wait for him to graduate and get off her ass
“Bro why is that guy throwing hurdles”
“Hes mad because he put himself on a training regimen all summer and I beat him out on the 100m by 2.5 seconds”
“… Did he tell you about the training??”
*sigh* “Yeah, he was texting me about it the whole time.”
“Why didn’t you block his number??”
“…. I don’t know? It’s kinda endearing to see somebody so pathetically lusting after you?”
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