#got some nice end of the world dirt on there and everything

[eriyu]

Day 20: Another Time

"And those souls brave and true, who might have risen to restore order… were no more. For the weapon spared not one. Not even thee."

prompt list

Makai Bow Dravanian Tricorne of Aiming Expeditioner's Coat (Rolanberry Red/Soot Black) Scion Traveler's Gloves Augmented Crystarium Breeches of Aiming (Jet Black) Scion Traveler's Boots (None/Goobbue Grey) Redbill Scarf

[importantpuppystarfish]

Repopulating the whole world with Wonyoung

Male reader x Jang Wonyoung

Plot : You are from a random country "X". World War 3 is ongoing. Genre : Survival, Romantic, Emotional. Includes: 69, rimjob, facesitting, wony pissing, breeding, lots of kissing.

I drag myself onto the rocky shore, my body aching from the endless swimming. My clothes are soaked, my breaths ragged, and my arms feel like they could fall off any second. But I made it.

The world is in ruins. World War III tore everything apart. Cities burned, people scattered, and survival became a desperate gamble. I don’t know how long I was in the water, moving from boat to boat, trying to stay afloat. But somehow, I reached this island near the Korean Peninsula.

I push myself up, coughing out of the salt water, and scan out my surroundings. The island is covered in dense trees, the sand untouched, the wind eerily silent. No signs of life.

Except for one.

A girl stands near the water’s edge, her long, damp hair flowing in the wind. She’s wearing a torn white dress, clinging to her body from the seawater. Even in this chaos, she looks unreallike -- gorgeous.

I blink. My brain struggles to process what I’m seeing.

It’s Jang Wonyoung!

The Wonyoung. The famous K-pop idol. The girl that once stood on dazzling stages, worshipped by millions. And now, she’s here, stranded just like me. Wonyoung also came to the same island through swimming to save herself from the war.

She notices me. Her eyes widen, and she steps back slightly, uncertain. I must look like a wreck, an exhausted or an average looking guy.

I raise my hands slightly, trying to show I’m not a threat. “Hey… I’m not here to hurt you.” My voice is hoarse.

She hesitates, then speaks, her voice soft yet sharp. “Are you alone?”

I nod. “Yeah… just me.”

A pause. The wind howls between us. Then she exhales and sits down on the sand. “Same.”

I look around again. No ships, no planes, no humans. Just us.

Two strangers. A famous lost idol and me.

Alone in the middle of nowhere. Wonyoung asks for my name~ "I'm Y/N!" Nice to meet u! We have a handshake.. Her hands feel soft.

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

Pt1:

I take a cautious step closer. “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know. A few hours, maybe. I was on a boat, trying to escape… then everything went wrong.” Wonyoung replies.

I nod. I get it. The war didn’t care who we were, celebrity or nobody, we all ended up fighting for survival.

I sat onto the sand beside her, keeping a respectful distance. My body still aches from the swim, but at least I’m alive. “We should find shelter,” I say, more to myself than her.

Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. She’s staring at the ocean, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nods. “Yeah.”

We explore the island together. It’s small, covered in thick trees, with no sign of civilization. No food, no supplies. If we want to live, we’ll have to find a way ourselves.

We build a shelter from fallen branches near a rocky cliffside, something to protect us from the wind. It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.

I know Wonyoung is feeling hungry, I can hear the sounds from her stomach. She's embarrassed. I hunt for fruits around in the forest and give some off to her. Wonyoung smiles and thanks me for the first time.

As night arrives, we sleep inside the shelter with a distinct position from each other. I can't believe I'm sleeping nearby a famous K-pop idol!

Wonyoung must be a very clean and neat girl. As morning arrives, with no proper shelter, no soap, and no change of clothes, Wonyoung specifically start to feel disgusting. We both only got one outfit for ourselves and its also getting torn apart.

Wonyoung tugs at her damp, dirt-streaked dress, grimacing. “I can’t take this anymore. I feel gross.”

I look down at myself. My clothes are stiff with dried saltwater and sweat. “Yeah, me too.”

She crosses her arms, thinking. “We need to wash them.”

I nod, then realize the problem. “But… if we wash them, we’ll have nothing to wear.”

She sighs. “I know.”

We stand there in awkward silence, both aware of what that means.

“…Maybe we take turns?” I suggest hesitantly.

She gives me a sharp look. “You mean one of us stays naked while the other waits?”

I scratch my head. “I mean… yeah?”

She groans, burying her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

I shrug. “We don’t have a choice. It’s just us here.”

She peeks at me through her fingers. “Still!”

After a long pause, she exhales sharply. “Fine!" “This is so worse!” she mutters.

I chuckle. “At least we’ll be clean.”

She grumbles but doesn’t argue.

And so, in our strange little world, even washing clothes becomes a ridiculous challenge. But somehow, we manage—awkward, embarrassed, but surviving together.

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

But suddenly, it seems Wonyoung has realized survival takes priority over everything else. Embarrassment, modesty—those things start to feel pointless.

To my surprise, Wonyoung just… pulls her dress over her head.

I freeze. My brain short-circuits as the gorgeous Wonyoung directly takes off her clothes near me, her medium sized breasts with pretty pink nipples, a luscious curvy figure that takes my breath away. Her natural scent is divine yet there's a hint of dirt clinging to her perfect skin. Now as soon as she also takes off her smelly and dirty underwear the same time, I see her pussy is hairy, maybe she doesn't shave it often. I keep looking in at her hungrily, finding every aspect of Wonyoung naked incredibly sexy.

She throws her dress and underwear onto a sea, standing now in nothing but her bare skin, completely unbothered. “You should do the same,” she says casually. “It’s just us, anyway.”

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

I swallow hard, staring at the ground now. “Uh… are you sure about this?”

She shrugs. “Why not? Clothes are useless if they’re this filthy. We might as well just stay like this.”

I feel my face burning. “I mean… isn’t that a little—”

She raises an eyebrow. “What? Weird? Embarrassing?” She sighs. “At first, yeah. But think about it—we’re stuck here, just the two of us. Why should we care?”

I can’t argue with that logic. She’s right. There’s no one else. No society. No rules.

Still, I hesitate.

She smirks slightly. “You’re overthinking it.”

I exhale, then slowly pull off my shirt. Then my pants. The air feels strange against my skin, but at the same time… freeing.

Wonyoung smiles. “See? Not so bad.”

And just like that, we accept our fate. No more shame, no more awkwardness—just two survivors, stripped of everything, living in the most natural way possible.

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

As now I'm naked as well, Wonyoung starts to look at my rod standing at attention. I caught her biting her lips and smiling, which I found adorable. She playfully teases, 'I can't help it, it's so…funny!' I blush furiously and retort, 'Hey, don't laugh!'". I'm confused why the heck Wonyoung is laughing at my dick? Maybe she has never seen one before?

"You look funny naked, especially with that thing down standing out of nowhere so hard" Wonyoung teases.

I'm sure Wonyoung knows herself why my dick is hard at the moment. It only get this way when there's a pretty hot girl around. Also the fact, Wonyoung is naked herself too. Wonyoung's stomach makes a noise again, its time for food and we realize we should start hunting for survival.

Yesterday we survived on wild fruits & coconuts, and anything remotely edible that we can scavenge. But soon, we realize that if we want to stay strong, we need real food ~ fish.

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

Wonyoung figures out that if we trap fish in small tidal pools near the shore, we can just grab them with our hands. It’s tricky, but with patience, we manage to catch a few.

Since we don’t have pots or pans, we cook the fish directly over a fire. We create a simple fire pit using dry wood and stones. We skewer the fish on sticks and roast them over the flames until they’re cooked through.

The first bite of was Incredible. We eat in silence, both of us savoring the moment. Wonyoung licks her lips, grinning. “I never thought I’d be this happy just eating a burnt fish.”

I laugh, nodding at her words.

As night falls, the temperature on the island drops, and the once-refreshing breeze turns into a chilling wind. Its getting cold. Yesterday we had our clothes but this morning, upon Wonyoung's idea, I also threw my clothes and we're both naked still.

With no clothes, no blankets, and only a small fire to keep us warm, the cold becomes a real problem.

At first, we try to endure it, huddling close to the fire, wrapping ourselves in large leaves, anything to stay warm. But nothing works.

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

Wonyoung shivers beside me, hugging herself tightly. “This isn’t working,” she mutters, her teeth slightly chattering.

I sigh. I’m freezing too. Then, reluctantly, Wonyoung says, “There’s only one thing we can do.”

I looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

She hesitates. “Body heat. If we stay close, we’ll be warmer.”

I stare her for a second, then exhale, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this…” But then, after another shiver, I mutter, “Fine. But don’t get any ideas. I try to be positive, trying my best to be a gentleman ”

But Wonyoung seems to have something in her mind, she has been trying a little to seduce me even in this kind of survival condition ever since we both got naked.

We move closer, our bare skin pressing together. The warmth is immediate, awkward at first, but undeniable.

She rests her head against my shoulder, her body still tense. “I love this,” she whispers.

Slowly, her body relaxes against mine, and I feel my own muscles easing. The cold doesn’t bite as much anymore.

After a few moments of silence, she sighs. “You’re warm…”

I smirk. “So are you.”

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

Wonyoung hugs me tigher, her chest pressing over mine. I can feel the size of her breasts, I have never grabbed them yet with my hands. I feel so good as well as her skin presses over mine more tightly..

Wonyoung and I can see the full moon together, it looks beautiful.

And just like that, we fall asleep, two survivors, pressed together against the cold, finding warmth in the only way we can.

The next morning, fever hits me suddenly. One moment, I’m fine, tired but fine. My body feels like it’s burning from the inside. My limbs are weak, my vision blurry, and every breath feels heavy.

I collapse near our shelter, barely able to keep my eyes open. Wonyoung rushes over, panic written all over her face.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” She kneels beside me, pressing a hand to my forehead. The moment she touches me, she gasps. “You’re burning up…”

I try to respond, but my throat is dry, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m… just tired…”

She bites her lip, looking around as if searching for a solution. “You’re Sick OH God!!"

Wonyoung has gotten emotional. She swallows hard, taking a shaky breath.

For the first time, I see her cry.

Even in this desperate situation, I hate seeing her like this. I slowly reach out, grabbing her trembling hand. “Hey… I’m not dead yet.” I try to smile, but even that takes too much effort.

She sniffles and squeezes my hand tightly. “You better not die,” she whispers. “I can’t be alone here.”

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

That night, Wonyoung stays by my side, cooling my forehead with wet leaves, giving me water, whispering words of reassurance even when she thinks I’m asleep.

And in my fevered haze, I realize something—she’s not just the famous girl I once admired from afar. She’s not just my survival partner. She might be someone special in my life.

The fever doesn’t break overnight, that day Wonyoung does all the job, cooking the fishes and finding survival resources. My body feels weak, my head heavy, and every movement sends waves of exhaustion through me. But Wonyoung never leaves my side.

She brings me water from the stream, carefully tilting a coconut shell to my lips. “Drink,” she murmurs. Her voice is soft but firm, her eyes filled with worry.

I manage a few sips before resting my head back down. “Thanks…” I whisper.

She sighs, brushing my damp hair back. “You’re burning up.”

That night, as the cold wind howls through our shelter, Wonyoung presses herself against me, wrapping her arms around my body. “This should help,” she whispers. “You need warmth.”

I’m too weak to argue, and honestly, her body heat is comforting. She rests her head against my chest, holding me close. She takes care of my body.

At some point, I groan, my muscles aching all over.

She notices immediately. “Does it hurt?”

I nod weakly.

Without hesitation, she shifts, her delicate hands moving to my shoulders. Slowly, gently, she starts massaging me, her fingers pressing into my tense muscles. She also gave me a handjob at the middle. I don’t even know if I should count it as lewd since we have been naked together and staying like this for 2 days already, but this is the first time she grabbed my dick with her hands.

“Relax,” she whispers. “You always do everything for us. Just let me take care of you.”

Her hands move down my arms, across my back, easing the knots of pain. Her touch is soft but firm, careful yet reassuring.

For the first time in days, I feel a little better.

I close my eyes, letting her warmth, her touch, her presence lull me into much-needed rest.

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

Wonyoung asks, “Do you think the war is over?”

I exhale, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

She stares at the horizon. “What if… no one is left?”

I glance at her. “What do you mean?”

She hugs herself tighter. “Last time we saw the world… there were nukes being launched. Countries were falling apart. If the war is over, does that mean someone won? Or does it mean no one is left to fight anymore?”

A heavy silence falls between us. The thought is terrifying, but not impossible.

I swallow. “Even if there are survivors, do you think anyone would look for us? We’re on some random, uncharted island. We don’t even know if this place is on any map.”

Wonyoung’s expression darkens. “We could be doomed.”

I don’t want to believe that. But deep down, I know she might be right.

She rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s just us now,” she whispers.

I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Then we survive. No matter what.”

“But if we are the only ones left…” Wonyoung hesitates. “Should we… you know… repopulate?”

The word hangs in the air, heavier than anything we’ve ever spoken before.

I swallow hard. “You’re asking if we should have kids?”

She nods slowly. “It’s what humans do, right? Continue the species.”

The idea makes sense, logically. But something about it feels too real.

I exhale. “That’s a big decision.”

She glances at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. “I know. But if the world is gone… doesn’t that mean we’re responsible for rebuilding it?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to process. “It’s not just about responsibility. We’d be bringing a child into a world with no hospitals, no medicine, no help. It’d be dangerous.”

She bites her lip, thinking. “Yeah… but if we don’t, then when we die, that’s it. The end of humanity.”

Silence. The fire crackles between us.

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

Pt2:

Wonyoung finally sighs, shaking her head. “Maybe I’m overthinking.”

After some while, Wonyoung asks, "Do you want some special comfort?"

Without understanding what special comfort she meant, I nodded yes.

Wonyoung winks and positioned her face between my legs. Her hands reach up to gently caress my thighs, sending shivers through my body. Leaning in slowly, I suddenly feel her pink tongue extends and swirls around the tip of my dick. A soft gasp escapes her as she tastes me, her eyes never leaving mine. She takes the head into her warm, inviting mouth.

I feel my full length inside her mouth. I finally realized Wonyoung is giving me a blowjob already. Wonyoung pulls back a bit. She grins, still stroking me gently. "Mmm…you like that y/n?" She teases before taking me deep again, bobbing her head with purpose now.

"Wonyoung, are you serious right now? You're a famous idol… I can't believe ur doing this!?!" I say.

Wonyoung replies, "Well, I don't think there's anyone left in the world. We should start reproducing already!." She continues taking my length more inside her mouth.

I realize Wonyoung must be feeling emotional, and that I'm the only person in her life now. It doesn't matter if I'm attractive or not.

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

Wonyoung is absolutely magnificent as she works to please me with her lips and tongue. Her tongue dances against the sensitive under side of my dick each time I hit the back of her mouth. She gazes up at me with desire, her cheeks hollowing as she takes me deeper still. Every flick, suck and lick from Wonyoung feels heavenly, it's clear she was made for this. I can't hold back my cries of pleasure - "Oh wow, Wonyoung please stop, you are amazing at this!"

Wiping a strand of saliva from her chin after she finishes sucking my rod, Wonyoung sits up and spreads her legs wide. Her thick bush of dark hair beckons me forward. "Alright, enough pleasing you. I want the same feeling as well. Mind eating my hairy pussy now?" she commands.

"Are you serious? But I'm sick!" I reply to her command.

"Oh right", Wonyoung pauses, a look of determination crossing her face. "Can't stand or return the favor hmm?" She grins slyly. "No problem, I can adapt." She positions herself above me, her beautiful eyes twinkling. "Here, I'll just…sit right down."

And with that, Wonyoung lowers herself, her vertical lips parting as she envelops my face in her warmth. I feel her weight settle on my face as she slowly sits on my face, her pussy hair tickling my nose.

I get flashbacks of watching Wonyoung's performance through my screen at home last year before the war started. It's exactly that same ass! Now that ass is about to be buried all over my face.

As Wonyoung lowers herself onto me fully, I am enveloped by her feminine heat and scent from her ass… She is totally face sitting on me.. Wonyoung is now riding my face!

Eager to please, I decide to really explore Wonyoung's shithole. Gently I spread her ass cheeks further apart, gazing at her tight little bud. I push my tongue forward deep, pushing more deep into Wonyoung's most intimate place. Inside her anus, my tongue meets warm, velvety smooth walls that grip me gently. A faint musky scent fills my senses as I wiggle and stroke within her sensitive rim.

My tongue inside her asshole is absorbing up every sticky morsel. The taste is intense, earthy and undeniably naughty. I delve deeper, driven by an urge to clean every inch of her filthy depths.

Her inner walls clench and grip my probing tongue as I feel the wet, dirty texture inside her tight little shithole. It's a decadent mess inside here. Oh fuck, Am I really eating her wet messy holes as she commands?

Shee gasps but then urges me, "Deeper...stick your tongue in!".

I oblige, slowly working my tongue.

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

Her ass shakes over my head with a playful excitement from taking in charge, she still asks teasingly, "Is OK?"

I nod, surrendering to pleasure her. My tongue extends, lapping up her slick nectar. She tastes divine. I feel her move, grinding against my mouth harder. She shifts a bit and my tongue finds her hairy wet pussy, making her bite her lip and smile wider.

I eagerly lap up every drop of her juices, my tongue tracing her folds and circling her engorged clit. I suck the bud into my mouth, flicking it while my hands press against her thighs for balance. Wonyoung gasps, riding my face harder. I insert my tongue as deep as it will go inside her within her wetness.

Wonyoung grinds down harder, inviting me to continue. I oblige, gently probing at her holes with more intention now. The salty-sweet taste of mixing her essence on my tongue drives me wild. Wonyoung cries out, clearly enjoying using me completely.

"Mmm…you're so good with that tongue, I just can't resist returning the favor!" Wonyoung cries. She leans down, taking my throbbing length back into her mouth. Now our bodies form a delightfully lewd 69 position - me eating her treasure while she continues to suck me off.

Her hips move in a sensual rhythm, grinding her wetness all over my face as I feel the base of my shaft hit her throat each time she takes me deep.

Our 69 is smooth and rhythmic now, both of us falling into it as the ecstasy builds. My tongue works her clit in firm circles while I thrust my tongue as deep as possible into her tight back doorway. Wonyoung's mouth moves expertly along my shaft, her lips sealed tight.

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

Just when I think it can't get more intense, I feel a warm fluid against my chin and mouth. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Wonyoung cries out. But I don't pull back - I simply extend my tongue, catching her pee with every skillful lick. She trembles above me as she finishes, spent. A mixture of her fluids coats my face but I don't mind one bit, still savoring her completely.

Against my will, I'm forced to drink down her warm, tangy urine. It's strong and acrid on my tongue but I obediently swallow, NOT wanting to displease Wonyoung. She seems shy now, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Here, let me make it better." She whispers. Wonyoung begins gently licking my face with her soft, pink tongue. She methodically cleans every inch, the bitter taste slowly fading. When she reaches my lips she takes me into her mouth again, our tongues meeting. She swallows some of her own urine back from my mouth as we have a mouthful french kiss. Her eyes closed, slipping her tongue into my mouth. There it mixes with my saliva too, a lewd, taboo French kiss. When she finally breaks the kiss, her eyes search mine - a mix of apology and invitation.

She again engages me in a deep and soulful kiss. Wonyoung breaks the kiss, her eyes glinting with newfound desire. She stands up now. "I hope you can forgive me," she purrs before sitting over my shaft. Wonyoung positions herself now ready to ride my dicm. "Now fuck me…fuck me hard, its time for reproduction already! Forget the humanity outside! Theres no one left!" she screams.

She cries out as I claim her. I watch my rod disappearing between her thighs, feeling her walls tighten around me. "Yes, that's it!, Oh my god I can't believe I'm having my first time!" Wonyoung moans as she rides my dick hard. Our bodies connect with a primal rhythm as I punish her core. I know I won't last long after that intense buildup. "Don't stop!" she gasps, pulling me deeper. I'm determined to satisfy us both.

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

Tears spring to her eyes but she keeps crying out "Yes yes yes!".. Wonyoung is literally screaming and riding me at the middle of the island. We don’t know what's happening outside in the real world. But here, it seems we both are actually enjoying. Birds and insects are watching us fuck in the silent island. The island is full of her screams and cries in pleasure.

Wonyoung starts bouncing on my rod harder. Each deep thrust draws out prolonged, wailing cries from Wonyoung's lips: "AHH! AHHH PLEASE!". Wonyoung leans down upon my mouth for a kiss now.

She breathes, "You're taking me so well", "but I'm not nearly done with you yet until u cum inside me."

Wonyoung's forcefully kisses me deep and moans. "Ahh, please, I can't.. Cum already.!" she cries desperately, a mix of fear and excitement in her voice.

Wonyoung screams again, her voice rising in pitch as I cum inside her "OOOOHHH!"

Wonyoung feels the sticky white cum fill inside her. Its a big load. She still continues riding, but now Wonyoung feels something tear inside her… "You…you tore me," she whispers, eyes wide.

I push her away from my dick, I see a mess down in her pussy. Its full of my sperm and cum, her insides must have broken and torn apart since its her first time. "It hurts but we succeeded. I'm probably finally pregnant!." Wonyoung cries.

I get emotional too. I hug Wonyoung, and as she hugs me back, we hold each other with love, and I can feel her warmth and heartbeat. Inside Wonyoung is a complex mix of emotions and physical sensations.

I can't believe it, did I actually breed Wonyoung, the most popular K-pop girl? This feels so real, it’s definitely not a dream! Yes, thats right! If I and Wonyoung are really the only humans left, the next world generation will be descendants of us!

[love4layla]

can you make a headcanon to hawks bakgou and deku (Separate) accidentally making their s/o cry?

(btw ignore my name💀)

A/N:(Definitely Ignoring the name 😭) Holy shit bro I deleted the app for a while so I am SO sorry for being THIS late.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!

ACCIDENTLY MAKING THEIR S/O CRY

Bakugo, Hawks, Deku x Reader

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Bakugo

He was outside of the dormitory training. You had finished earlier and just went to chill in your room and just hang around for a while. Minutes turned into hours and you started to get a little worried for him, he hadn’t come inside yet, not even to eat. You decided to go and check on him. You walk out to where he normally trains and you see him flying in the air and aggressively and swiftly hitting the dummy with precision. You could see that fire in his eyes that he always got when he fought. You waited till he was done and then you talked to him. “Hey babe. It’s getting a little late don’t you think? Iida made some food inside.” You sit down next to him. He was already a little irritated before you came over. “No.” He says bluntly. You were a title taken aback but you continue to push. “Katsuki… you haven’t eaten all da-“ “I said I’m fine bitch! I’m not a little ass kid you need to take care of!” He snapped. Your eyes go wide. “Well I’m sorry for trying to make sure you don’t end up hurting yourself because you’re undernourished.” You snap back with attitude. “I don’t need someone telling what to do all the time. If you’re gonna be like that then I’ll just leave your ass in the dirt.” He says as he gets back up to train. It’s almost like your whole world stops, you feel your throat tighten and your body stiffen. Tears start to stream as you turn around and walk back inside to your dorm room. His eyes widen as he face palms as himself, fuck. A couple of hours later, you’re in your bed and sulking about what he had said, was he actually going to break up with you? Was it all over? He knocks on your door but ends up using the spare key you gave him due to hearing no answer. He walks in and sit in the edge of your bed. “Listen…I didn’t mean it alright.. I was just pissed off about sumthin else…” he grumbled trying to apologize. He ends up sighing when you don’t budge. He leans down and kisses your cocooned figure, “I’m sorry babe. I love you…” . We cuddled for the rest of the night

Hawks

You had been dating Hawks since he was the number 3 Hero. You’ve been through the highs and lows with him. all the missed dates, all the times he stood you up due to hero work. You stocked with him through it all. He always had something more important and you were getting tired of it. You had had a talk with him about how it all made you feel and he apologized and promised to change. You were out with him, having a mini date while he was on break. You two haven’t had a date in a while. He had promised you a nice cafe lunch because he knew they were your favorite. Everything was sweet and nice. He gets a call from someone. He picks up his phone “Yo” he picks it up. “Hey, what’s up…….huh?……I’m kinda in the middle of something right now…….alright fine” he hangs up the phone. “Hey babe, I gotta dip early.” Your face dropped and you got a little irritated. “What why?” You ask him. He doesn’t even tell you why, he gets up and waves “Bye baby! I gotta go”. And there you were again, left alone. You couldn’t stop your tears from falling in public. People were following hawks all the time, because, you know, he’s fucking Hawks, snapping photos of him whenever they could. You head home after you finish crying and start to cook dinner. Once you put the noddles on to boil, you scroll on your phone. You suddenly see post of you, red faced, teary eyed and bye yourself.

“Hawks’ new girlfriend crying after he left her. So sad #celebritycouples #whoisthischick?

You scroll through the comments:

“Poor girl…”

“Hawks has a girlfriend?”

Hawks was on his way home from his duties, he scrolls on his phone, his eyes widen as he sees multiple photos of you, teary eyes and mascara dripping. His head drops “Shit!” He picks up his pace as he speeds through the sky to your shared home. He opens the back door of the balcony. “Honey? Babe? Y/n!” He looks around the house for you until he finds you on their bed watching Disney+ on your laptop. You look up “Oh your back. At-“ You look at the time, “12:03am.. did you have fun?”. His heart breaks as he realizes he did EXACTLY what he promised not to do. He sits down in the bed next to you, gently taking your hand. “Y/n…. I’m so sorry honey…” he kissed you. “I saw the posts….i feel terrible baby I am so sorry I made you feel like that.” He changed out of his hero suit and kissed you in the bed until you both fell asleep (watching Moana)

Izuku Midoriya

You and Midoriya never, and I mean NEVER fight. You two had been training together for hours, it was cold outside so you two had to dress for it. (Y’all know his EVERYTHING hurts more when you’re cold outside). You two were hitting move after move, dodge after dodge. You two were in perfect unison. You two had taken a break to catch your breaths. Then you two got back to it, he zoned out mid fight and wasn’t paying full attention. Instead of landing the hit to your legs like he intended he miscalculated and landed a powerful kick it right on your breast. (Girlies know how painful that is holy-) You screamed out and tears fell from your face as you hunched over. “FUCK-“ He panicked and runs over to you “Damnit! Oh my god are you okay?! I’m so sorry!” He saw the tears falling and his heart broke. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry” he tried to find a way to make this better. He picked you up and carried you inside to the dorm commons’ couch. After a couple of minutes of him panicking, the pain went away. It was bruised but it wasn’t bad. “Y/n, I am so sorry. I got distracted and I didn’t know where I was kicking and-“ you cut him off with a hug. “It’s fine baby. I mean…. yeah it hurt like a bitch, but I’m fine now” you smile and hug him. He sighs and relaxes “Okay”

MasterList<3

[dat-town]

mine for the summer

Characters: Leehan & female reader

Setting & genre: coming of age, summer romance, angst and fluff (it has a happy end!)

Summary: Busan is your hideout, your runaway place, your freedom bought on stolen time. Leehan is your first love, your safe place, your everything. At least, for the summer.

Warnings: stage name used, OC is coming out of a burnout in the beginning and she has a relapse, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, past hospitalization, emotionally distant parents, parental pressure on academics

Words: 9.4k

Author’s note: title from One Direction’s Summer Love. here is the Romeo + Juliet movie scene that gets mentioned

turns out i cannot not write an at least bit of an angsty story for your bday but i do sincerely hope you have a very happy one, @restlessmaknae <3 also of course you would start singing this song in july to give me a heart attack right before i accidentally told you i’m writing about Leehan

The humidity of air sticks to you like second skin, sweat glistening on your nape where your hair gets tangled in the summer heat. With closed eyes and the tickling feeling of sand under your bare feet, you listen to the ocean waves washing up the beach and children giggling. You take a deep breath of air filled with salt and fish and oil, something so uniquely Busan that you feel like fourteen again.

It’s been years since you had come to visit. Excuses were easy to find: too busy, too far; reasons were much harder.

But now you’re here and you realize that you missed it. The quiet serenity of being hidden away in the part of town that’s far from the busy skyscraper downtown and the overwhelming tourist traps. You remember spending summers running down these sandy beaches and playing in the water, mouth sticky with fruit and palms scratched with falls and youth. Then you turned older and got bored of the quiet neighborhood, the ocean losing its significance after seeing it too many times, eventually you stopped coming altogether. Now you are even older but still young, barely out of school, the CSAT exams still haunting your dreams. You’re just twenty but sometimes that age feels like it bears the weight of the world. Your world at least.

You open your eyes and squint right away at the brightness of the Sun and feel its burning heat on your bare shoulders only cooled by some nice breeze. The air might smell like salt, fish and oil but it tastes like freedom.

You take one more deep breath, willing yourself not to think of your mother’s disappointed words about your behavior nor her disapproval of you coming here, and push yourself up. You grab your discarded sandals and head back. Your grandparents must be worried already. In their eyes you are still fourteen, forever a child.

And they might be right because not even halfway down the beach, you abruptly halt and hiss, pain shooting into your feet and your carmine blood drips onto the golden sand. Balancing yourself on one leg, you check on the wound, a cut on the softest flesh part of your feet and the culprit, a broken shell in the sand. Clumsily you take your water bottle from your bag to clean the blood off, your skin still sensitive around the fresh wound. You debate whether you should tiptoe the rest of the way or clean your footwear off sand and dirt as much as you can but before you could decide, a stranger approaches you with worriedly furrowed brows.

“Are you okay?” He asks in a deep voice but you don’t pay too much attention to him, too busy to figure out what to do with your injury.

“Yeah, it’s just a small cut,” you brush his worry off, expecting him to walk away or maybe to give you directions to the closest pharmacy but he does neither.

“Here. Hold onto me,” the stranger offers his arm which you reluctantly but take because your balancing skills honestly aren’t the best. Then you can do nothing but stare as the boy around your age suddenly pulls out a plaster from his shorts’ pocket and leans down to inspect your wound. It’s a bit awkward, having a stranger look at your feet, so your fingers curl inside themselves around his arm. The boy is gentle, barely touching your skin as he applies the plaster and once he’s done, he straightens, looking down at you with sparkling, shiny eyes.

The first thing you notice about him other than his height and the low register of voice is actually his eyes, how pretty and expressive they are. The second thing is the way the wind blows his longer, almond colored fringe into his eyes. Your fingers twitch to brush it away just to find out if they are as soft as they look.

Then you realize that you’re staring, so you quickly look away, down at your feet that now has a cute seahorse patterned plaster on it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, a bit dumbfounded but amused at the same time. “Do you just carry around plasters everywhere?” You blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind as you lower your leg, still feeling a bit sensitive but much better.

“I can be a bit clumsy at times. And too curious for my own good or so I have been told,” the boy shrugs with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m Leehan by the way.”

“I’m…”

“Y/N-ah! There you are,” your grandmother’s voice cuts off your introduction and like a kid caught doing something you shouldn’t have, you take a step backwards, away from the boy, on instinct.

“I have to go,” you look at the stranger, Leehan, one last time apologetically. “Thanks again.”

“Take care,” the boy smiles warmly and waves, the movement cute just like the animal print plaster he had on him.

You limp all the way towards your grandma who stands there with her hands on her hips, ready to scold but you hush her and tell her it’s nothing serious, that you are okay. Still you listen to her tsk-ing and nagging as you walk back inside the house but once she seems to run out of everything she could have said about it, she changes the topic swiftly.

“You barely got here and you are already snatching boys?”

“If by snatching you mean embarrassing myself in front of them, then sure,” you try to softly tone down your grandma’s enthusiasm but she keeps chattering despite the sarcasm in your answer.

“Leehan is a sweet boy, always helping when he sees me with lots of groceries. He lives in the neighborhood with his family and I think he graduated high school last year, so you must be the same age.”

You hate how hopeful she sounds because you didn’t come here to befriend people. When you called asking if you could spend the summer here like you used to, except this time you would help them out, your grandma was happy to take you in but worried too that you would be lonely or bored alone with ‘only them old folks’ but honestly, you craved a little peace and alone time. That’s why you needed to get out of Seoul too, away from its people. From all its memories.

So you just make a noncommittal hum and escape to the kitchen to help your grandpa with the scallion pancakes for dinner.

“What’s your grandmother fussing about?” He asks, pushing the glasses further up his nose.

“Nothing, I just stepped on a broken shell,” you shrug and get three plates from the shelves and kimchi from the fridge.

“Typical. I heard about it for weeks when I accidentally cut my finger one time,” he recited and you smiled, feeling loved and cared for. At home.

The market is stuffy, different smells of sea animals, fried food, fresh fruit and detergent mixing with the sounds of vendors arguing and negotiating over the static sound of music coming from an old radio. It’s busy but different type of busy compared to the crowded metro coaches. It’s lively here and while you had studied your ass off for the promise of a future corporate job, here you are packaging tteokbokki for takeaway, always adding extra because that’s a given for regulars. Not that you think it’s below you, you love the food stall aunties and uncles very much, but you would have never imagined yourself sweating next to a spicy boiling broth in the heat of summer. Maybe it had something to do with the way your mother talked about her parents’ job so derogatorily, always telling you that you’re only somebody if you’re well educated and a career woman. Maybe that’s why she was so against you coming here. Because it was a place she had run  away from.

You’re in the middle of chopping scallions in the back when you hear a cheerful call of Ahjumma! and your grandma perks up more than usual.

“Leehan-ah, are you going down to the beach?” She asks and you feel the back of your neck heat up but you blame it on the Sun. It has been days since the shell incident but the embarrassment still creeps on you. You hope the boy won’t notice you or at least not say anything about it.

“Later. First I have some errands to run,” Leehan says and your granny coos, probably patting his cheek too, calling him a good boy. Then casually while she is stirring the tteok in the pot, she suddenly changes the topic.

“If you have some free time, could you show our Y/N around? She doesn't really go out on her own.”

“Grandma!” You turn around, sulky at the callout. A mistake because you can clearly see the boy failing to hide his amused smile.

“Sure. If she can keep up,” he raises a brow elegantly at you which immediately makes you defensive.

“Are you calling me short?” You straighten up without meaning to because come on, you aren’t that much shorter!

“I’m asking if your foot is alright.” Leehan corrects your assumption with a know-it-all smile plastered on his face but he still manages to pull it off in a genuine way with a hint of worry. It makes you feel flustered for a moment.

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” you clear your throat and clean your hands in a rag cloth nearby.

“I’m just going to the post office, I’m free after that,” the boy says, looking straight at you from under his longer fringe, over your grandma’s shoulder.

“Great. Go have fun!” The old lady exclaims, turning and walking up to you, untying your apron faster than you would expect from somebody her age.

“Grandma, I’m not leaving you alone,” you protest but it’s no use. She tsks and shakes her head as if she couldn’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Please, we were doing fine before too. I can just get your grandpa to stop playing mahjong with the neighbors if more people come,” she brushes off your worries easily and basically pushes you out of the food stall’s kitchen area. You’re just about to complain about your bag when she shoves it towards your chest and all you can do is stare at her, shocked but you can’t really say anything when she smiles so sweetly and wishes that you have a good time.

Eventually, you’re the one to give up. It’s not like you could make her let you work against her wishes and she seems very keen on making sure that you go out and get friends while you’re here. It was difficult to convince her to let you help out at the shop at all to pay back in a way for their hospitality no matter how much they told you that they would be happy just to have you over the summer.

It’s only when you’re a little further as you follow Leehan through the market, when you speak up.

“You know, you don’t have to do what my grandmother asks you. I can be on my own just fine,” you mutter, not wanting him to think you’re some child that needs a babysitter. Just because you like to stay in your room, it doesn’t mean you would get lost if you set a foot outside.

“I’m sure, don’t worry. But it’s no bother. I like to be an advocate for the city,” the boy grins at you and as if on cue, an auntie greets him and insists on giving him a bag of peaches. Leehan asks about her grandchildren and compliments her harvest. He charms everybody effortlessly, a real sweet talker but he doesn’t seem fake about it at all and it’s kind of lovely, just like his fish themed plasters.

With people constantly greeting him, it takes way longer to get to the post office than it should have but at least you can laugh when he loses paper, rock, scissors against a nine year old kid and is bullied into trying something really spicy. You try to hide your smile while the little kid is unabashed about his reaction when Leehan grimaces at the hot spices, finding his disgusted nose scrunch hilarious. In apology, you buy him iced green tea at the next stall you see and he smiles at you brightly like the Sun.

Once Leehan is done at the post office, you expect it to get awkward but it’s him who breaks the silence as you stand in the shade, sweat dripping down your back in the moonsoon season’s humidity.

“So… you’re here for the summer?”

“Hm. I missed the sea,” you hum quietly, keeping your eyes on the bright horizon and the shimmering line of water in the distance.

It isn’t entirely a lie but not the whole truth either. Being so burned out after high school that you got a panic attack at the thought of going to university, so you had to postpone a semester and the disappointment it caused to your parents certainly isn’t something you want to dump on a practically stranger. But even if Leehan has a feeling that you’re not 100% sincere, he doesn’t push, which is something you appreciate.

“Well, then you came to the right place. Not to be biased but Busan has the prettiest beaches.”

“Prettier than Jeju?” You tease just for the sake of it and it makes the boy chuckle.

“Of course! Come on, I will show you my favorite place,” he tilts his head, a clear invitation and you give in because you don’t have anything better to do anyway.

The Sun is still high up on the sky, white clouds clear against the blue of it. You’re fanning yourself but it doesn’t help much. Leehan however doesn’t seem bothered by the heat, so you find yourself asking:

“Did you grow up here?”

“Born and raised,” he nods with a proud smile which isn’t that surprising because he has that more laidback way of talking that locals around here have. At least he’s not talking as fast as the neighbor ahjussi whom you have trouble understanding. “You have a Seoul dialect though.”

“That’s the standard way of speaking, just saying,” you roll your eyes at him calling the way you speak a dialect which makes him laugh. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

It’s silly arguing over something like this but it’s actually fun, you find yourself smiling without meaning to. Something that has come harder lately. So you end up answering the boy’s unasked question about your upbringing. You tell him about growing up among metal skyscrapers, the Han River and Seoul Forest being your escape, only spending your summers in Busan, your mother’s hometown until you were fourteen. Leehan listens and asks random questions like whether you have ever been to the COEX Aquarium or if you ever wanted to be a mermaid as a little girl. It’s surprisingly easy to talk with him, to open up. Maybe it’s because you know he doesn’t know you well enough to judge or even if he did, it doesn’t matter much because you would leave at the end of the summer anyways.

In the meantime you reach the sea and walk along the shore farther from the crowded beach and bay areas. When you come across a bunch of larger rocks, Leehan climbs onto the top easily and holds out a hand for you to help you up too. Tentatively but you take up on his offer and let him pull you up on the slightly slippery rock. He doesn’t let go until you land on stable ground on the other side. There are smaller rocks and pebble stones splattered across the sand there stretching from the clean turquoise blue waters to a cave overshadowed by greenery. It’s beautiful and you can’t believe you’re the only ones here.

“How did you find this place?” You ask in awe, wandering farther ahead. Even the sand is cooler here from the trees’ shade.

“Honestly, I don’t go out a lot either. I just like to go down to the beach and be, you know. So I have been looking for a place where I can chill and well, I had years,” the boy says with a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth as your grandmother’s words about your hermit behavior echoes in your ears.

Of course, you know that she means well and that she’s a social butterfly, so it’s weird for her that you are not that outgoing at your age. Or maybe she has heard from your mother of those weeks where you refused to leave your room let alone the house. Things had been bad then, now you’re getting better. You have come all the way to Busan after all. Was it to run away from your problems? Maybe, but also you hoped that not being in an environment that reminded you of your failures would help.

“Do you always bring girls here?” You ask, more playful than anything as you balance between two rocks, looking back at Leehan over your shoulder. You can hear him snort and catch the way he scratches the back of his neck.

“Not really,” he admits sheepishly. “Just the special ones,” he adds with a mischievous smirk on his face. Tsk, what a flirt, you shake your head in disbelief but amused.

“Aren’t you afraid that I will ruin your chill time here?” You ask as you settle onto a place in the shades, closing your eyes as you enjoy the cool breeze against your sweaty shoulders.

“Not really,” comes the answer closer than you expected as Leehan settles on the ground not far from you. You squint your eyes open to see his expression but he’s only looking at the sea fondly.

You don’t talk much afterwards, just sharing bits and bobs of your lives, little anecdotes. Leehan eventually offers to walk you home when it gets close to dinner time. You could easily find your way with Naver Maps but you let him anyway and try to keep up with his recommendations of Busan places to check out; you probably forget half of them though. You don’t exchange contacts, it somehow doesn’t even occur to you because you’re pretty sure you will run into each other one way or another. It’s all nice and cozy. Something you could get used to.

Even though you expected to meet Leehan, you didn’t think it would be so soon. But trust your grandma to play the matchmaker despite your firm reminder that you didn’t come to stay with them over the summer to get a boyfriend.

Still, you should have known better when you agreed to get cat food at the local pet store in lieu of one of your grandmother’s friends. You feared she would have gone herself and carried it all if you weren’t going and at that point you were just happy if she let you do anything yourself because you felt like a spoiled guest at her house. But of course, she had ulterior motives, you realize when behind the store’s counter, there’s none other than Leehan with his pretty smile and soft-looking hair.

“Are you stalking me?” He grins when he spots you after the jingling sound of the door chime signals your arrival, one side of his mouth curling more upwards then the other, the asymmetry of it making him even more handsome.

“Blame my grandma. She sent me here on an errand.”

You are quick to give him your excuse but it only makes the boy pout slightly and you can’t tell whether he’s faking it or he’s actually disappointed.

“I thought you missed my wonderful company,” he puts a hand over his heart and ah, that’s definitely over exaggerated.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” you deadpan as you walk up to the counter and pull out your phone to get the list of things you should buy.

You show the pet food brands and quantities to the boy and while he’s off to get them from the back, you look around in the shop. There are all sorts of cat and dog supplies but further in the back you see tanks and you swear you see movement in some, so your curiosity brings the worst out of you and you wander closer, smiling upon seeing the blue and golden fish in various prettily decorated glass boxes. You’re so busy looking inside the tanks that you get startled when Leehan speaks up from behind you.

“Do you like fish?”

“Oh… actually, I have wanted a fish tank at home ever since I saw Romeo + Juliet,” you admit as you turn to face the boy. He furrows his brows in confusion and you somehow feel urged to explain it in more detail. “It’s an adaptation from the 90s. In this version, Romeo and Juliet saw each other first through a fish tank at the ball. I just thought it’s… romantic,” you cut yourself off when you realise your’re rambling about embarrassing girly things and clear your throat. “Anyways, my parents obviously didn’t let me have one.”

“That’s cute,” Leehan says, his smile half-teasing, half-sincere and you feel heat coloring your cheeks. How can he just say things like that? “I have one at home.”

He adds casually but you immediately perk up.

“Really? Do you have pictures of it?” You can’t help but inquire and luckily the boy doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he seems pretty excited that he’s able to talk about his fish. He keeps showing you pictures of different states of the fish tank and what kind of fish he had before and what else he wants to get one day. He also tells you that this is his go-to place when it comes to buying fish supplies and it’s pretty cool that the owner lets him work here part-time over the summer. You are so distracted that the next customer has to come to the back looking for the cashier which is a bit awkward but you both laugh about it.

You shuffle around in the back while the customer gets the new leash for his dog and when he leaves, you go to the checkout counter too to pay for the cat food. You already stayed longer than you intended to do, so you do a little ‘hwaiting’ gesture at Leehan as a goodbye but his words stop you before you could leave.

“Would you like to go to the aquarium this weekend?” He asks and you swear you can hear the nervousness in his tone despite the smooth, casual delivery or his confident front.

“Sure, why not?” You try to play it cool too and eventually you agree to meet in front of the place on Saturday, so you leave the pet shop not only with cat food but weekend plans too and a smile on your face.

It’s an understatement to say that your grandma is over the moon when you tell them that you will be out Saturday because you made plans with Leehan. Your grandpa asks though if he needs to talk with ‘this young man about his intentions’ and you protest vehemently. It’s not even a date after all, because it isn’t, right? You’re just hanging out. Your granny waves her hand and chuckles at the interaction.

“Let them be. We were young once too,” she says in that voice she always has when she gets nostalgic. You listen to her stories about her youth even if you have heard them dozens of times before because your grandma had such an eventful life. No wonder she always encourages you to ‘live a little’ and follow your heart. That’s how you don’t regret life looking back, she says.

So that’s what you are doing when Saturday comes and you get ready to go out. The loose-fitting white dress feels light against your skin and with a sudden wave of enthusiasm, you reach for your barely used eyeshadow palette. Today you feel like doing something special, like putting on silver, glittery makeup. You feel good when you look into the mirror but then you start second guessing it. Isn’t it too much for a simple hangout?

Too late, you realize because you’re already short on time to make it to the aquarium by the agreed time, so you brush off your worries. By some miracle you manage to catch the bus, trying not to think about your outfit or makeup being too much, too… date-y.

When you arrive at the entrance, Leehan is already there, his tall figure striking even from a distance, especially in the jeans and tucked-in, light blue shirt combo he wears. He stands by one of the pillars, scrolling through his phone but pockets it right away when he sees you.

“Hey… You look pretty,” he blurts out, faint rosiness coloring his cheeks and it makes you feel shy too. Your previous thoughts about taking this dressing up too far cease to exist.

“Thanks. You look good too,” you say because it’s true, but he always looks nice. Even in the bermuda shorts he wears to the beach or the pet store uniform t-shirt. Maybe it’s because of his slender figure or his prince-like features or just overall the casual confidence he holds himself with.

“Thanks,” Leehan mutters and looks away. It’s quite a different reaction from what he shows when ahjummas on the market pinch his cheeks and call him handsome. “Let’s go in.”

Inside it’s like a hidden Atlantis. You are surrounded by lovey-dovey couples walking hand-in-hand and families with kids running around. The blue hue of water is casted over everything and Leehan’s eyes sparkle in the dim light as he tells you about things he learned from documentaries about the deep sea or at university. It turns out he’s studying oceanology at Korean Maritime and Ocean University there in Busan which is pretty cool, something that suits him. When he asks about your side, unknowing to the turmoil inside you when it comes to your studies, you don’t tell him about the stress you have been under just to get into a SKY university. You don’t tell him about your messed up sleeping and eating schedules, the IV drops at hospitals, the anxiety and panic attacks nor the result of it all. You just shrug and tell him that you got into a good uni with a business management major, but it’s not really what you want to do. He doesn’t ask why you did it then or why you don’t change it. Instead he looks at you with a smile under the penguins’ majestic aquarium and asks:

“If nothing else mattered, what would you want to do then?”

You give it a thought because you didn’t quite have the luxury to think about what you really wanted before. It was always about what your parents wanted you to do. Until you decided to pack your things and come down to this beach town.

“Staying here forever,” you eventually respond and it sounds like an exaggeration, so you chuckle to soften the confession’s rough edges. Even if Leehan doesn’t know you well enough (yet) to understand the longing in those words, your yearning for the taste of freedom and the warmth of a home where you are waited for,che seems to understand. He just smiles wider and proceeds to tell about the crazy lifespan of some turtle species. It’s good, your tensed shoulders relax again as you follow him to the next section.

After you have thoroughly seen everything at the aquarium, you find a place nearby to eat at, then walk down the closeby popular Haeundae beach. It’s not as pretty as the one next to the lagoon Leehan showed you the other day and there are more people here than you would have preferred but it’s okay. You never seem to run out of topics, lighthearted ones, yet even silence is comfortable with Leehan.

“See you tomorrow at the beach?” You ask in lieu of saying goodbye on your way back. Your fingers are intertwined behind your back just to do something with them because they are sweaty and soiled with sand from the impromptu sand castle building you came up with under the last unforgiving rays of the Sun.

“Don’t miss me too much until then,” Leehan says with a corny smile playing on his lips instead of saying yes but you just laugh and let him be.

You ignore your grandma’s knowing glare from the living room as you run up the stairs two at a time, your white dress floating behind you like flower petals in the wind.

On Sunday you meet on the beach and stay out until the Sun disappears behind the horizon. Next week you help Leehan choose a new decoration for his fish tank and spend two hours in the pet store listening to him talk about the difference between algae types and the importance of filters and sub-filters. On Friday your grandparents are at the hospital for their usual check up, so you’re on your own in the food stall. Leehan comes around to keep you entertained but he ends up helping out when a bigger group appears. Sweet of him but you find out the hard way that he has shitty sense when it comes to spice, especially salt, measurements.

The week after, you run into each other in your local Olive Young while you’re getting a new nail polish color and he has a bottle of shampoo in his basket. You end up leaving with a new glittery eyeshadow palette too because the boy drops a comment that it would look pretty on you. You put it on together with the baby pink nail polish you just bought when you go to the outdoor screening of a Korean classic on the beach. Under fairy lights and the fluorescent reflections of the movie in Leehan’s sparkling eyes, you feel a rush of something selfish, a longing so deep it cuts and you have to look away before it becomes obvious.

You don’t talk about it, whether these are dates or not. Because talking about it would make it real. It would make it scary, because then you would have something to lose when the summer ends. It’s fragile but it’s yours and it’s enough, you tell yourself.

One of these days it rains. The kind of sudden summer downpour that feels way too nice on your heated skin in the humid, hot weather. It catches you in the middle of eating ice cream with Leehan and you can’t help but yelp when the first cold raindrops touch your bare shoulder. You both get up quickly and run for cover ice cream long forgotten but the rain just pours and pours and both of you are drenched by the time you reach the nearby cave.

You look up at Leehan from under your wet eyelashes, shivering slightly and burst out laughing at the sight of his hair sticking to his face weirdly like a soaked puppy. You know you don’t look any better because you feel your hair weight over your shoulders like a rag. You try your best to tie it up, out of your eyes but Leehan is still staring.

“What?” You ask, self-conscious and shy under his intense stare. Then you are holding your breath because the boy lifts his right hand and touches your face. His touch burns and leaves goosebumps in its wake as he brushes another lock of hair behind your ear.

The rain is loud around you but it all sounds saturated right there, at the entrance of the small cave just by the beach. You tremble, not from the cold but something akin to anticipation.

Leehan’s gaze meets your eyes. There’s softness and wonder in the depth of his brown orbs. You take a shaky breath as he runs his fingers down the expanse of your bare arm until he finds your hand and then he chuckles and pulls you out into the pouring rain.

“Yah!” You scream at him but you laugh too, a childish feeling bubbling up in your chest.

You chase each other around on the beach. The sand is wet under your feet and the sea is cold when you end up knees deep, splashing water at each other as if you could be even more soaked. Your laughters echo in the cave and you feel the most alive in a while.

You still laugh about it when the next day you wake up with a cold and sore throat.

The push and pull between you is like the waves washing up the shore. There has to be a breaking point when it spills over. It happens in Leehan’s room when he finally shows you his fish family in person after chatting your ears off about them. The tank is bigger than you expected and it’s really nicely decorated, it’s clear that the boy put a lot of effort into it and you appreciate all the details. You’re too busy watching in awe as the tetras and shrimps swim around to notice the boy on the other side of the water wall until you catch his eyes on you. You blink in surprise and think that it’s unfair how handsome he looks even through two layers of glass and filtered water. Bashful, you straighten up at once and Leehan does the same on the other side.

“Was it like this? In the movie?” He asks, curiosity coloring his deep voice and your breath hitches because he remembers! It was something small you mentioned to him the second time you met and yet, he didn’t forget.

“Something like this,” you nod, still bewildered and breathing shallowly as the boy edges closer, leaning over the fish tank.

“What happens after?” Leehan’s voice is barely above a whisper as his gaze searches your face. Your fingers tremble, so you press them against the countertop for balance.

“Why do I have a feeling that you know?” You lower your voice too as if it was a secret and the thought of him looking up the movie just because you told him about it makes you feel mushy inside.

Leehan giggles and it's music to your ears, a beautiful sound. 

Your eyes flutter closed when his lips graze against yours. It’s chaste and clumsy but his kiss tastes sweet like cherry lip balm and summer. You never want to forget this feeling.

What starts with a kiss between four walls ends up spilling all over the pages of your summer. It’s in the way you share looks and secret smiles over your grandmother’s shoulder, the way he holds your hand as you walk down the beach or the way every accidental touch sets your skin on fire. The way you talk on the phone until late on days when you can’t meet or how he notices the faintest burn mark on your fingertip from cooking and presses a kiss on it to ‘help it heal’. It's shared packs of gummies, sea-washed hearts drawn into sand, blush on cheeks and a secret held close to your heart. You still don’t talk about the future, about what it means even though you know you should. You should tell Leehan that it’s bound to end in heartbreak because you will leave eventually but for once you let yourself be selfish and pretend that you have all the time in the world. Or at least pretend that you have him.

It’s been almost two months since you have been in Busan and you have felt better than ever. No pressure on your chest anymore when you wake up, no breaking out in sweat when you see the calendar counting down days, no lack of motivation to go outside. However, one thing is enough to crash it all down. One simple thing.

You stare at your ringing, buzzing phone as if you could will it to stop just by looking at it hard enough. Your mother’s name on the screen is enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably and you bite into your inside cheek so hard you taste iron as you swipe the call towards the green direction.

“Y/N,” your mother calls your name like a greeting. You hold your breath back, wondering if she will tell you that they missed you since you haven’t talked with them since you have left but you should have known not to get your hopes up.

“Did you decide on the next semester?” She asks, straight to the point as if that’s the only thing they care about. Maybe it is.

“No,” you mumble and you want to make yourself smaller when you hear your mother’s disappointed sigh. It’s bringing back ugly memories. The realization that their love is conditional hits you hard again.

“When are you coming back then? It’s been enough of a vacation already,” she says dismissively and you know too well that she doesn’t ask because she wants you back out of caring but because then she would have more leverage over you.

“I’m staying for the rest of summer,” you force yourself to remind her because no matter how guilty and ungrateful she makes you feel, you remember how hard it was to leave, to go against her in the first place, so you don’t want to go back, not until you are sure she cannot emotionally manipulate you into doing something you don’t want.

“What a waste of time. You should at least sign up for a language course–”

“I have to go. Sorry,” you hang up the call and only when you drop the phone onto the bed’s mattress you realize that you’re trembling. It’s when the tears are starting to sting your eyes. Your phone rings again, your mother’s contact haunting you like a ghost, so you switch the phone off entirely. You refuse to cry but the ugly sobs bubble up nevertheless and it’s all coming back.

It’s day three of shutting yourself in your room and not talking with everybody. You feel useless and stuck, just like the disappointment your mother thinks you are. When there’s a knock on your door, you think it’s your grandmother coming for the breakfast tray, so unsuspecting, you open it. You immediately wish you didn’t because in front of you stands Leehan with worry clear on his face. Or is it pity? In this mindset, it’s hard to tell.

“Your grandmother let me in. I couldn’t reach you,” The boy rushes to speak up, his voice stained with something heavy. “Are you… What’s wrong?” He corrects himself probably realizing that asking if you are okay would be a stupid question when you clearly aren’t.

“You should leave,” you croak out, your voice hoarse from disuse.

“Y/N, don’t,” Leehan pleads with sad eyes that beg to don’t push me away, don’t shut me out but you’re too used to dealing with things alone. “You don’t have to tell me but let me be here for you.”

It’s the gentleness in his request that makes you stall. He doesn’t force you to do anything, he just asks like he wants to be there. Like he doesn’t care that you look shitty and ignored him for days. You don’t deserve his kindness.

“Let me shower first,” you look away before opening your door wider to your curtained and stuffy room.

You open the window and grab some homey clothes from the gardrobe because you don’t want to stay in your pajamas next to the boy. Then you close yourself inside the bathroom, taking a too cold shower but by the end of it you actually feel a bit more like yourself. You walk back to your room in the new, clean clothes and wet hair, not ready to look Leehan in the eye, so you’re relieved when he doesn’t make you do that either. He just gently takes the towel from your hands and sits down behind you on the bed, massaging the soft material into your head. You let out a little choked up sound at the feeling of being cared for. You close your eyes to will yourself not to cry and Leehan doesn’t say anything, he just keeps drying your hair gently.

“My mother called,” you speak up after what feels like forever and yet not long enough. The boy hums quietly, showing that he’s listening but he lets you go on at your own pace. So you tell him about the pressure to do well at the CSAT exams and to get into a SKY uni, about falling out with your best friend because of competitive studying, about starting to hate it and how it ruined your relationship with your parents.

You speak and Leehan listens, then when there are no words and your heart feels like an empty shell, he holds you close. It feels like he holds all your broken, ugly pieces together.

It doesn’t happen from one day to another but things get better. You get better again. It’s the kind of progress that you have to do yourself but having your supportive grandparents and Leehan by your side definitely helps.

The boy comes over often in the beginning because you don’t yet feel like going out and being seen by people. Your grandfather mentions something about keeping your door open at all times but after realizing that all you do is watching documentaries on your laptop, reading books with your head in Leehan’s lap while he is on his phone or braiding each others’ hair, he doesn’t say anything anymore.

It takes a while to gather courage to tell everything to your grandparents too because it’s one thing opening up to Leehan but it’s about their daughter and you’re afraid that despite letting you stay here and not caring much about your education, they would take your mother’s side. Luckily, they understand.

“You could stay, you know. Your grandfather and I would be happy to have you here,” your granny reassures you with a hand on yours, soothing.

“It’s not that simple,” you let out a quiet sob because which ungrateful child doesn’t do what their parents want after the fortune they had spent on her education? It’s just university, you can bear it for a few years, says the little voice in your head, even if you hate it, even if your perfectionist tendencies will ruin the experience for you.

“It can be that simple. I will talk with your mother,” your grandpa exclaims and you know he would do so if you don’t stop him.

“Please don’t. It’s something I have to do myself,” you say because you can’t let others fight your battles for you, because it’s a step you need to take for the freedom you crave.

It’s scary still, preparing to tell your parents something you know they won’t like nor will they hesitate to try and change your mind. 

Leehan squeezes your hand before leaving you alone to make the phone call. He doesn’t go far, you know that the farthest is the kitchen where your grandma will convince him to taste her cooking. You pace around in the room, giving yourself a pep talk, rehearsing your prepared speech a few times before hitting the call button.

It takes three rings for your mother to answer. Her voice is leveled and disinterested when she asks how you are. She doesn’t care, she only cares about what people will say about her if their A+ student daughter won’t go to university. But you won’t take her burdens on your shoulders anymore.

“I decided. I won’t start uni next semester. In fact, I will drop out,” you blurt out as quickly as possible, like ripping off a bandaid. You don’t let your voice waver no matter how nervous you feel. “Maybe one day I will attend a university but if I do, I will study something I would like to, something I'm actually interested in, not business,” you continue before your mother could interrupt you. “Thank you for supporting me through school but I’m old enough now to make my decisions, so I would rather pay you back for all that.”

Your parents are stunned to say the least. There comes a nicely wrapped threat about ‘their house, their rules’ but when that doesn’t work, they try to negotiate. They tell you that you will regret it, to think of all your wasted efforts and how lucky you are, then they want to talk in person. You say it wouldn’t change anything and telling them actually feels like a huge rock being lifted off your chest and you can finally breathe.

It becomes easier after that. The countdown stops and you can sleep properly. Summer ends and you start packing your bag. Going back to Seoul doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

You ask Leehan to meet you at the beach, your usual place, because he deserves to know. He brings fruits and jellies, an entire picnic. Your heart aches because he doesn’t know it’s goodbye. Or maybe he has a feeling since he has always had good intuitions and because this idyll was never meant to last longer than summer.

You eat and you talk while watching the waves and the clouds chase each other. Leehan tells you about the classes he has in the upcoming semester and his fish family updates. You tell him the latest anecdote about your grandparents because the atmosphere is too good to bring up you leaving so soon.

You watch the sunset together with his head on your thigh and your fingers raking through his soft hair, grazing across his reddened ears and the earring he wears. He’s illuminated by the oranges and goldens of the dying Sun and your heart shatters at the sight. He is so beautiful and you want to remember this moment forever.

When darkness settles, you take out sparklers, set them in the sand and cuddle until the last speck of light burns out, until you can see the constellations you cannot name clearly in the night sky.

“I go back to Seoul next week,” you whisper as you lie on the picnic blanket and watch the stars together. Leehan doesn’t say anything immediately and you don’t dare to turn to him. Not before you tell him why. “We will go to family therapy. It was mom’s idea but maybe it will do us good. I owe them at least this. They are trying.”

They might not be the best parents but you know that they mean well in their own way even if it’s not something you want. It’s already a big thing that they also realized that you need help to mend family ties. But that’s not the only reason why you’re leaving.

“I also need to figure out what I want to do for myself and not for others,” you admit in a small voice, barely audible.

You spent your teens working towards a goal your parents set for you and it made you miserable. You’re afraid of it happening again and that’s why you can’t stay in Busan no matter how at home you feel here. Because you know this is what your grandparents would want, because Leehan is here and it scares you that one day you will blame them for staying because you are too weak to make your own choices. So you need to decide on your own. You need to be sure you aren’t just running away from your problems.

Moments pass and the boy’s silence is unnerving. You wonder if he’s angry or if he’s sad. If anybody, you would think he understands but you cannot be sure and it’s killing you. When you turn to him, he moves too and suddenly you’re paper thin distance apart. When he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the rapid rhythm of his heart. When he speaks up, his melodic voice is shaky with unsaid emotions.

“I hope you can find what makes you happy,” he says as he strokes your back gently and it’s an i will miss you, i get it, i wish you the best all in one and tears pool up in your eyes, feeling touched and understood. You nuzzle closer, taking a deep breath full of Leehan’s signature scent of sea salt and sand and something sweet.

“I will miss you,” you whisper under the stars and they witness it as the closest thing you can manage to the confession you can’t say out loud. But it’s in your heartbeat and all your memories.

You and Leehan had all summer and it was golden. It was love even if you never said it out loud.

3 MONTHS LATER

Winter in Busan is kinder. It’s still cutting cold but not unforgiving like in Seoul. It's a roasted sweet potato smell and a stranger helping you with your big suitcase as you get off the train. One of the stores plays Christmas music while you are checking your phone to see if your driver has already arrived.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice calls for you and a smile blooms on your face, whipping your head towards the source of it. There he is in all his beauty, a fluffy scarf around his neck, a beanie on top of his head and his nose red.

You want to rush up to him but your suitcase is heavy and its wheel gets trapped in something, so you manage to trip and lose your balance. Luckily, Leehan is there to catch you and it’s déja vu, a reminder from the summer when you held onto him, another beginning.

“Careful,” the boy warns you with a chuckle as he lets go and looks down at you with a tender smile. You mimic his reaction, your heart getting wild in your chest that you finally see him again. “You are smiling. It’s pretty,” Leehan says in awe and you beam at him wider.

“I’m happy,” you tell him, honestly because he’s part of the reason why.

A lot has happened in the last three months since you left Busan. Family therapy wasn’t a piece of cake because admitting mistakes wasn’t your parents’ forte but it did help to salvage your relationship as a family. They stopped pushing you to choose a higher education and let you make your decisions yourself. First of those was to start tutoring high schoolers who wanted to get into a SKY university like you did. Even though you didn’t actually attend one, the admission letter was proof enough for many people and you realized you liked helping others. You also developed a teaching style that’s more compliment and reward-based than the strict hakwon style. Out of all subjects, you enjoyed teaching English the most, so when you not so accidentally came across an opening position in a language center in Busan, you applied right away.

The truth is you missed Busan. The freedom, the independence, the happiness you found here. And you missed your grandparents and Leehan the most. This time it’s not just a hideout where you come running away from your issues. This time, you come because you want to be here. It’s a home to return to.

Leehan takes your suitcase from you and walks you to the parking lot to his dad’s car. He got his license this fall for which you cheered him on all the way via texts the same way as he supported your teaching journey. You listen to the cheerful songs on the radio as he drives you to your grandparents’ house while talking about the train ride as if you haven’t been texting throughout it. It’s almost like nothing changed and yet, everything did.

“Leehan-ah,” your grandmother coos when you arrive, welcoming the boy with a warm hug.

“Hey,” you pout pseudo-sulky because shouldn’t she greet you first? Her one and only granddaughter? She should take notes from your grandpa.

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” your grandma singsongs before wrapping you in her embrace too, all warm and loving. Immediately after she starts listing down your favorites that she has been cooking since morning but you shush her because you should at least pack your stuff in your room. Leehan offers to help with your luggage and the two of you go up the stairs while you hear your grandparents ‘whisper’ about when to bring out the cake. It makes you chuckle. It makes you happy.

“Actually, I bought you something, too,” Leehan speaks up, his ears as red as his nose but you aren’t sure it’s from the cold outside.

“Oh, what is it?” You ask, surprised but curious and when he nods towards your room’s door. You give him a quizzical look before pushing down the handle.

At first nothing stands out, it’s almost like how you left it months ago but then in a flash of gold you notice one striking difference. There it is, unmistakable, a fish bowl with a single goldfish and some rocks and coral decoration in it on your desk.

“It’s not exactly a fish tank you must have wanted but it’s better to start small,” Leehan explains with a smile in the corner of his mouth and you realize once again just how much he sees and understands you, he always has.

“Thank you! I love it so much!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around the boy, giggling into his chest.

You fussing over your new pet fish is interrupted by your grandma inviting you down for lunch and suddenly it’s like nothing has changed since summer. Leehan is welcomed at your table as if it’s the most natural thing and your grandpa is still teasing your grandma about making way too much food. They keep asking you about your job too as if you knew anything more than what you told them on the phone.

After lunch, you help clean the table while your grandpa keeps Leehan busy by asking him about something he saw on the internet. When your grandma sees you stealing glances, she nudges you in the side and tells you to walk him out with a knowing look which makes you roll your eyes as if you didn’t yearn for more alone time with the boy.

So here you are right at the gate, knowing full well that your grandparents are watching through the window, fidgeting with your scarf, not knowing how to say goodbye even though you will probably see him tomorrow after work. Eventually it’s Leehan who speaks up.

“Y/N,” he calls your name and it sounds so sweet from his mouth, you feel degrees warmer in the cold of winter.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to call your name. I still can’t believe you’re here,” the boy chuckles sheepishly and you realize it’s not only you who’s nervous. But maybe there’s no reason to. Now you know what you want.

“I’m here and I’m staying,” you promise and when Leehan smiles, the mole on his left cheek moves upwards and you tiptoe to peck him right on it. He has a hand on your arm as you descend down flat to your feet and his gaze is stuck on you. You’re mesmerized as you watch all his moles and acne spots and his boyish beauty that makes your heart flutter. You stand so close that you can see the snowflakes melting over his eyelashes and that’s when you notice it.

“Oh, look, it’s snowing!” You squeal with childlike wonder as you look up at the sky and try to catch the floating snowflakes on your palm.

Leehan hums quietly but his voice is playful when he asks:

“Do you know what they say about the first snow?”

You blink at his sudden question, cheeks growing pink and hot as the boy leans closer.

“You’re as smooth as ever,” you mumble, shy, because of course you know the saying about couples’ love being long-lasting if they witness the first snow together.

Your first kiss tasted sweet like cherry jellies but this one tastes like forever locked in a touch. You had the summer together but now you have all the seasons ahead of you and you can’t wait to walk them through together with Leehan.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

A Gs Hug

Ficlet of Pearl going back to Hermitcraft after Wild Life because I need comfort or I die. Wild Life Spoilers Below the Cut!!

It's not that respawning on Hermitcraft was sudden. They had all stuck around to watch the victor after they died. Pearl herself hadn't managed to catch the final fight since she had died only a few moments before and she hadn't managed to fly across the map yet. She heard from Cleo that it was impressive, that Joel was a real force of nature. All of them got the pleasure of watching Joel fail to die from his own trap, and have to kill himself with ender pearls. Pearl had asked why Grian hadn't just killed him the way he did for Martyn and Scott, and he had said he wanted Joel to have his moment. It hurt to hear a little. Pearl tried not to be bitter that she never got a victorious moment, it was just how the game she won functioned, but it still stung.

All of this to say, they had all hung around for a few minutes after it all ended to congratulate Joel, before heading back to their home worlds. Pearl doesn't panic when she respawns, she doesn't reach for a weapon, she just sits up slowly in her bed, reveling in the feeling of muscles that aren't sore and skin that is clear from bruises. There's nothing like the whole body ache of a death game world. Each life you lose took some part of you, mentally and physically, and old injuries never really healed right. But on Hermitcraft, regen and respawn cleared everything. She could run and stretch with nothing screaming at her to stop.

Her clothes were clean too, a welcome feeling after sitting in the grime of blood and dirt and ashes. The white of her Post Master shirt was untainted with red, her slacks neat despite having spawned laying down. For the first time in days, she smelled only the flowers scattered around her home, and the detergent she used on her clothes, rather than gunpowder and death. As small as it seems, she loved getting to look nice and professional, rather than having to dress for practicality and mobility.

Congratulations messages for Joel flooded the chat from the Hermits that had been in the game, and Pearl sent her own. Even the Hermits who didn't participate sent a couple, not understanding what they all went through but understanding that Joel had won. She could go over to him, but she had other priorities. For all that the games were games, that didn't stop them from feeling real in the moment. And that aching feeling of grief, of being lost and aimless, hadn't faded away yet.

Pearl sent a whispered message in the chat to Cleo and Impulse, asking them to meet at her base. The reply from both was quick, Impulse indicating that he was already on his way. For a moment, Pearl hesitated. She typed up a message to Gem, staring at it for a minute before deleting it. Right now she just wanted her Gs. Reconciliation with Gem could come later.

Impulse, of course, arrived first. Pearl was waiting in her rarely used living room for him, and chuckled to herself as he jumped at her doorbell.

"I still don't think the warden head is necessary," He complained, taking off his shoes at the entrance. Pearl had barely let him enter before she was throwing herself at him. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder and trying her best not to burst into tears. As his arms came up to wrap around her torso, she failed, soaking her face and his shirt.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She muttered into the fabric. Impulse shushed her, rubbing her back. Pearl could feel the way he was shaking and was sure she was too. The adrenaline from the game was wearing off, and exhaustion and regret was settling in. "I tried to get you to the end and I failed you. I'm so pathetic,"

"You're not pathetic," Impulse reassured. He heaved a large sigh, and Pearl let herself limply move up and down with his chest. She was so cold and he was so warm, and she didn't want to be alone again, "If anything I am, I mean, you made fifth. You gave me a damn totem that I wasted, I started the session on yellow, and I still couldn't keep myself alive. That's not your fault," His voiced dripped with anger at himself

Pearl her face away, though still not leaving her spot in his arms, to look up at his face. "Don't talk about yourself like that. You did the best you could. The totem wasn't wasted, because it kept you alive for one life longer, that was the whole point,"

Impulse hummed, moving a hand to run through his hair. Pearl made a little panicked sound, involuntarily, thinking he was moving away. Impulse wordlessly held her tighter with his other arm to reassure her. "You don't get to be hard on yourself either then. You survived, and that's the whole point. You kept me alive as long as you could and even if I didn't win, I appreciated every second of it."

The door opened behind him, once again setting off the warden doorbell, and Cleo cursed under their breath in surprise. Pearl pulled away from Impulse for just long enough to extend an arm out, creating an opening for Cleo to join the hug. They did so enthusiastically, fitting into the space between Impulse and Pearl on Pearl's right. She was the shortest of the group, while Impulse and Pearl were about the same height, so her arms were around both of their torsos, her face at chest level.

"We did great you guys, I'm so proud of all of us," Cleo spoke, looking up at the two of them with a kind of sincerity that rarely broke through their thick sarcasm. Pearl squeezed them tighter, remembering the way that Cleo had been just as lost without Scott as she had been without Impulse.

"Thank you for getting me to act at the end," Pearl said, shifting them so Cleo was more in between her and Impulse than off to the side, "I didn't know what to do and you gave me a directive. I needed that or I would have just stood there doing nothing. At least I got to die fighting with you,"

"And you didn't kill me!" Cleo joked, shrugging off Pearl's sentiment with a joke. Pearl chuckled weakly.

"No, I didn't," She sgreed.

For a long moment, the three of them just stood in her living room, wrapped around each other. Pearl knew she wasn't the only one crying. Impulse was keeping it together despite his shaking, but she could feel Cleo's tears soaking into the front of her shirt. They were cold, Cleo always was, but not the kind of freezing that Pearl associated with wolves and towers and snow. Both of them were real and solid and Pearl was not alone. That was enough for now.

[welovewarcraft]

when i die

fandom(s): homicipher

pairing(s): mr. crawling/reader (mc)

summary: What a blissful love life he enjoys. Alas, all good things must come to an end.

The fresh air was very nice to feel; it was very different from the metallic odor that constantly lingered in his old world. You told him about the sky and how beautiful it could be when it was blue. When the rain clouds cleared and he saw the sun's rays poke through the clouds from the confines of your apartment, he was giggling and happy. He had no eyes, but due to his supernatural qualities, he could still see.

Mr. Crawling liked many other things about your world in comparison to his. The buildings and their interiors were much like the ones he was familiar with, except they were cleaner and not tinged with dirt, rust, and blood. There were no ghosts with dubious intentions that could pop out at any moment. Though paranormal activity still existed in this world, as long as the both of you stayed away from prominent areas and activities, you two were fine. 

This world was so much safer and nicer.

With you, Mr. Crawling was almost ecstatic every day. He had his first shower, his first set of clothes that weren’t his usual robe (you thought he looked rather cute in a hoodie and pair of sweatpants of the same color, but in the end, Mr. Crawling preferred his old clothes, so you got multiple kimonos for him), and his first real meal that wasn’t flesh (you’re a great cook!). He also learned about your language, your interests, and much more (once, you joked about turning him into a man of culture, but Mr. Crawling didn’t understand at the time). 

About a year had passed since he started living with you. Mr. Crawling was content with the better and safer lifestyle, and he was able to speak your language at a basic level. One day, as Mr. Crawling was watching a documentary, he noticed you weren’t beside him. When he looked over, he noticed you staring out the window, lost in thought.

“(Name)?” He asked, the name rolling off his tongue naturally.

You looked at him in response.

“Yes, Mr. Crawling?”

“What are you thinking about?” His words still sounded a bit stiff. Your name was the only word that came naturally to him; once he got it right, he was ecstatic and didn’t stop saying it for a long while, enough to practice pronouncing it perfectly.

“Nothing, dear,” you replied.

Mr. Crawling blushed at the endearing nickname, but he still felt a bit unsure. Despite that, he turned his attention back to the documentary, enjoying the visuals on-screen and trying his best to pick up new words.

Mr. Crawling was very glad that he got to go to the human world with you.

A few days later, Mr. Crawling got worried. You seemed increasingly stressed, and he wanted to relieve you of it. This time, he was really poking at you, to the point of being annoying. He hadn’t acted this worrisome in a long time since accompanying you in the other world. When you finally were pushed past a tipping point by his badgering, you snapped and said that you attracted the wrong kind of attention and that if you weren’t careful, you would end up dead. 

Mr. Crawling cried at your outburst. He could not produce tears, but the feeling was there all the same. You felt really bad, and patted his head and back to soothe him. Once he calmed down, he wanted to know everything. You refused to tell him much. A bit toward the end of your conversation, you said some words to him that made him shudder.

“When I die,” you began, “I would like to feed you my flesh so that you won’t be hungry for some time. I want to do one more good thing, even after I die.”

At this, Mr. Crawling had burst into tears again (to remind, metaphorically). He wanted to perish the thought, but you already planted the seed in his head, and he couldn’t seem to uproot it now. He could never eat you! You are his joy, the light of his life! He would rather go back to the otherworld or die than do such a thing.

He must have been really out of it because you dropped the subject instantly.

After that, Mr. Crawling became very clingy. He didn’t want you to leave your apartment at all. He succeeded at first, but after a few days, you managed to get away to go to work. You had to promise him extra cuddles and kisses after you came home every day (even on the weekends). He never wanted to leave your side, even when you had to take a shower (and thus, that’s how he got his first bath with you. It was greatly comforting, even if it was just temporary). You even got him a phone so you could send messages about what you were doing.

Fortunately, a few months later, the fear seemed to disappear almost entirely. You had managed to convince him that you fixed whatever situation you were in and that he didn’t have to eat your flesh. He was overjoyed. Everything was back to normal and perfect again.

Until one day, you didn’t come home. Mr. Crawling wasn’t too worried at first but when it was about eleven o’clock at night, he couldn’t take it anymore. He unlocked the apartment door while he was on his knees and exited the apartment. He tried his best to lock the door from the outside despite not having much experience with them; he knew you would be upset if you came home to an unlocked door and him not being there at the same time, but he was just so worried for your safety, that he eventually stopped trying and just left.

He wandered the city, making sure to stay away from other people and stick to the shadows. As he traversed, he picked up a strong metallic scent. He hadn’t smelled blood this strong since his residence in the other world (you would cut your hand on the kitchen knife sometimes). Afraid, he cautiously followed the scent.

He crawled and crawled until he reached an empty park. He made it to some trees when he saw you. You were still recognizable, but your body was mangled on the ground.

He crawled hurriedly over to your corpse and cried.

If only you just… didn’t go to work. 

He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. His human was dead. Who would do this to you? 

As he drowned in his sorrow, he suddenly remembered your words.

When I die, I would like to feed you my flesh, so that you won’t be hungry for some time. I want to do one more good thing, even after I die.

He made a louder whimpering noise. He wanted to preserve your corpse, like how he watched in those videos about funerals. He didn’t want to eat you! He was torn between doing what you wanted and doing what he wanted.

After he was able to calm down a bit, he looked at your corpse for a little while.

Unsure, he slowly reached with his claws out.

+++

AO3

[lunajay33]

Missing🖤

Summary: You and Daryl got separated at the started and now you’ve just been wandering hoping to find a secure place will you find Daryl again?

Pairing: Season 2 Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

You and Daryl have known eachother since you were kids, growing up right next to eachother, along the way feelings grew and you got together right before graduation, you became a teacher and he worked at a mechanic shop, life was nice and simple together, you were even thinking about having a family but then things change, the world ended when you were teaching and you haven’t seen Daryl since, you search everywhere for him until eventually you had to leave down because of the walkers and venture out on your own, hoping you meet him again

Along the way you came across a barn, you scavenged for food finding some cans and as you looked out the window a horse was grazing the field, you packed up the rest of the food and ventured out finding a saddle approaching the horse steadily trying not to spook it away, thankfully it was friendly and approached you with ease letting, you strapped the saddle around her and hopped up, leading the horse as it trotted north

You’d be alone on your own for about 5 weeks now and it’s been lonely, you just wanted to see Daryl again just needed for him to hold you, you were on the horse walking through trees when a clearing opened up showing a farm house with people walking around, you were a bit wary since you’ve run into some shady people along the way but for some reason you were drawn to this farm, you lead the horse, you named Pixie, slowly as to not scare the people

As you and Pixie walked up the dirt road people started to gather, you hopped off Pixie holding her rope and waiting for the others to do or say anything and not just ogle you

“Who are you?” A man in a police outfit asked

“I’m y/n, I’ve been alone since the start, until I found pixie here” you said as you pet her shiny black hair

“Where’d you come from, who’d you find this place?” Another man asked he seemed a little crazy

“I’m from outside of Atlanta, I’ve just been wandering until I found something, I lost someone at the start and I’ve just been looking for him”

“Sorry to break it to you, he’s probably dead”

“Shane!” The officer glared at the man

“I still have hope, but do you guys have room for one more, I know how to hunt and I can help out”

“Of course, we could use another hunter, got one out hunting right now”

“Thank you”

The officer who introduced himself as Rick, showed you around introduced you to everyone even the owner of the farm, the sun was setting by the time all that was done

“We don’t have anymore tents we’ll have to go out tomorrow and get you one”

“Oh that’s no problem I can sleep out with Pixie” it was the normal for you now

“You sure?”

“Yeah it’s no problem…….shouldn’t your hunter be back by now?”

“Yeah oh there he is now” he said looking over you shoulder at the dirt road

A man with a crossbow and plaid shirt with ripped sleeves, you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere, you sprinted off towards him your heart racing, tears streaming down your face

“DARYL” you screamed as he looked up dropping his crossbow just in time to open his arms and wrap himself around you as you threw yourself into his arms

“Is it really you peach?” He asked in such disbelief it broke your heart

“It’s me, I can’t believe I found you I thought I’d never see you again, I looked everywhere for you I waited at our house hoping you’d come back but……I had to leave I had to find you” you said quickly your eyes not believing you found him having to tell him everything you’ve been thinking these 5 weeks without him

5 weeks may not seem like a lot but in the apocalypse there was no guarantee about anything so everything was precious

You held his biceps as he traced his fingers over ever features on your face completely forgetting others were around you both

“So I’m guessing you two know eachother?” Glenn asked

“She’s my girl” Daryl stated not taking his eyes off of you

“Thee Daryl Dixon got a girl?” Andrea laughed, you turned and glared at her

“You bet your ass I’m his”

“And ya ain’t ever leaving my side again”

[phsychobanana]

In another world, we hate each other just as much

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

WC: 930

Summary: Maybe enemies to lovers wasn't a trope meant for them...

Honor. Family. Redemption.

Some of the things Zuko has wanted more than anything in the blur of these last few years.

Honor.

Something only he could get for himself by capturing the avatar.

Family.

He wanted his family back desperately. Not so much the people themselves, but the title and pride that came with knowing them.

Redemption.

Something he'd hoped for when choosing to join team avatar in defeating his very own father, Fire Lord Ozai.

Though they didn't come to trust him as easily as he'd hoped for them to, they eventually came around. Well, most of them.

Seven months after the end of the war. Seven months after peace was restored and balance swept over the world (for the most part), Y/n still didn't trust him. Not one bit.

He'd tried everything. Gifts, reassuring words, going on a "life-changing adventure" like he did with other gaang members, and yet nothing seemed to work. So, naturally, he grew to resent her just as she did him.

It was a peaceful morning, birds flying through the air, the soft smell of tea wafting through the air. Zuko stood beside his uncle, his feet bare as the blades of grass tickle them.

The peace was quickly interrupted, however, when a familiar voice cut through the air. A voice that immediately brought a frown to Zuko’s face.

“Hi, Master Iroh!” Y/n says, her voice cheerful and cute. Oh, how he hated that voice. Hated how sweet it was, hated how it made his heart skip a beat, hated how it put the bird's songs to shame.

“Ah, Y/n, how wonderful! Isn’t it wonderful that Y/n could make it, Zuko?” Iroh nudges his nephew, ever the matchmaker.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Zuko mumbles.

“Well, i’ll go make some more tea now that Y/n has decided to join us. Play nice, you two.” Just as soon as he was there, Iroh is gone.

Zuko sends a glare in his uncle’s direction, before rounding on Y/n, his glare even sharper than before. Y/n simply crosses her arms, a smirk clear on her face.

“What’s wrong, Zuzu?” She asks in a mocking tone.

Zuko simply scoffs, unbelieving of her behavior.

“It’s Fire Lord Zuko.” He says, standing upright, his nose in the air.

“Hmm…sure it is.” She smiles, clearly amused by the fact that she’s already getting under Zuko’s skin.

Out of frustration, Zuko lifts his hand to facepalm, and not realizing just how pissed off he was, his hand lights up with the movement. He doesn’t even notice until a soft hiss of pain hits his ears. Zuko’s eyes widen at the noice, and he quickly turns to look at Y/n.

“Did i do that?” He asks.

“No, the wind did it.” Y/n replies, her words drenched in sarcasm and pain.

“Haha. So funny. It’s your fault, anyway. You’re lucky i don’t do it again, on purpose this time.” Zuko says, smirking proudly as he watches the burn, still fresh, sizzle on her arm.

Y/n glares at him, sending a rock flying his way. Zuko’s eyes widen at her rebuttal, and he quickly dodges out of the way. 

“You dare challenge me in my own home?” He scoffs, amused by her actions.

Y/n's eye brows raise in slight surprise. "Are you smiling, oh mighty Zuko?"

"What? No. Of course not. You've probably got dirt in your eyes, filth," Zuko quickly turns away from the girl, forcing his face to harden.

The sound of hard footsteps causes Zuko to turn around. When he does, he sees Y/n now standing much closer to him, a teasing smirk on her lips. Not that he's staring at her lips. That'd be crazy. Haha...

"You were smiling. I saw it," Y/n pokes Zuko's chest accusingly.

"Was not!" Zuko argues childishly.

"We're too!"

"Was not!"

"Were-fucking-too!"

"WAS NOT!"

"STOP LYING!"

Fire crackling, rocks grumbling, loud arguing, small explosion, heavy breathing. That was all that could be heard from the courtyard as the two got into a heated argument over something so childish.

Eventually, as the ancestors would have it, the two end up toppling over each other, Zuko ending up straddling Y/n's hips in a rather....awkward position.

Zuko looks down at her with wide eyes, a rosy blush making its way to his face. Though, that's not the only place he has blood rushing to.

Y/n huffs, slowly sitting up on top of the blushing boy, her glare practically pinning him in place. She's also red in the face, though it's more out of anger than it is embarrassment.

"Would you get off of me already? Whatever you have in your pockets is poking me!" Y/n complains, her fits colliding with his chest aggressively.

Zuko swallows nervously, knowing that there's nothing in his pockets. He slowly stands to his full height, the blush on his cheeks never tiring. His hands fold together in front of his crotch in a feeble attempt to hide his...excitement?

Y/n gives him an unimpressed look as she dusts herself off. "First you burn me, then you make me fall, what's next? Kill me?"

"Maybe." Zuko responds, though his words lack their usual heat.

Y/n's brows furrow in confusion at Zuko's lack of conviction. "What's up with you?"

She glances to where his hands are fidgeting, and then back up to his face, her eyes widening upon realization.

"Seriously?! A hard-on, you weirdo?!" She shrieks.

Zuko's face burns even hotter, and he turns away, mumbling a half-assed "shut up".

Y/n cackles upon this discovery, doubling over. She wipes tears of mirth from her eyes before speaking, "I thought you were mad at me."

"It's a hate boner, i swear." Zuko says sternly, even though it sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince her. "I still hate you. Always will."

Y/n rolls her eyes in response. "Yeah, yeah. We hate each other in every universe, i get it. Dumbass."

"Bitch."

"Freak."

"Vine-head."

"Hate boner."

"SHUT UP!"

[im-constantly-fangirling]

Wandering Home

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

No Outbreak au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: cursing, slight reference of Parks and Rec towards the end, mentions of self harm (not reader), smut [dirty talk, praise and slight degradation kink, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to breeding kink, choking, dom-ish Joel]

Note on smut: If you don't want to read the smut, skip the scene in between the two *s!

Masterlist

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

It seemed that people had a borderline excessive appetite for alcohol- and they relied on you to fulfill it. You didn’t mind the work, as it numbed you the way a bottle could, but you supposed you could do without the yelling, obscene comments, and the general carelessness of the people who couldn’t really hold their liquor.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter Jackson’s social routine  just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

It was just another ordinary day when the door to the bar opened, revealing an unfamiliar face. A swift silence wafted through the bar before the man walked in and Tommy followed behind. A sigh of relief seemed to go through every one. The bar resumed its normal revelry.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

You smiled at him, putting the glass down and flipping the rag over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Joel,” you greeted him. He didn't respond with more than a grunt and a nod, but you didn’t mind. He had dirt smudged over his face, his flannel shirt, his forearms. Scars adorned any amount of skin that showed. And those eyes…

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

If Tommy noticed his brother’s grumpiness, he certainly didn’t care to comment on it. “Y/n’s the best bartender in town. If you treat her real nice, she might slip you a free drink or two,” he said, whispering the last part conspiratorily.

You chuckled, lightly smacking Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t go around telling everyone, now,” you teased. “But since you’re Tommy’s brother, I’ll get you your first drink on the house. Any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel nodded gratefully- or you understood it to be gratefully- before clearing his throat. “I’ll just take the strongest whiskey you’ve got.” Even his voice was rough. You wondered if there was a single part of him that the world hadn’t taken away from him. “But don’t go making a habit out of giving me a free drink. I’d be more than happy to pay,” he declared while taking a seat. The soft southern lilt of his voice made you smile. It had been a while since you heard that accent.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

You turned around, letting the brothers get reacquainted while you served them their drinks. Their voices got drowned out by the laughter in the bar- but every now and then, when business was slow, you’d quietly make your way over to their side of the bar. 

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Huh, you wondered. Didn’t peg him for the married type. You couldn’t deny your disappointment, but you couldn’t stop smiling lightly. The grumpy man had a soft spot. It was odd but endearing to watch his eyebrows round out at the edges.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the work gets done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air. Great, you thought. Just what I needed to end rush hour.

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill didn’t seem to like that answer, and you felt your heart start speeding up. “Just give me one more! I wasn’t fucking asking,” his voice slurred, echoing throughout the bar. It was as if he sucked the life right out of the building. No one moved.

You stared at Bill, your eyes hardening. “This happens every week, Bill. Aren’t you sick of this little tradition we have going on? Cause I am.” You put your hands together into a fist and leaned against the bar, letting your face get close to Bill’s. “You reek of piss and you’re acting like a lazy bum. How about you go back home and sleep the alcohol off before you get dragged out?”

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.” Even with all your bravado, you didn’t love the idea of Bill’s anger being directed solely toward you. He was a 210 pound, six foot tall man. You knew how to pick your battles.

Bill growled loudly at you, spit flying from his mouth, making your face scrunch up with disgust. At the sound of his growl, several other townspeople stood up from their chairs, getting ready to intervene if needed. You saw them all slightly leaning forward, as if they’d run for Bill the second he stepped out of line.

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

“Joel, she’s got this,” you heard Tommy say quietly. “You can’t go around making enemies on your first day.”

“Fucking hell, ”Joel grumbled at his brother. He stood up from his bar stool and walked over to where Bill was hunched over the counter, squeezing your chin as if he wouldn’t rest until the blood flow stopped. “Are you going to let go, or am I going to have to make you?”

Bill sneered at Joel. “I’ll do whatever I damn well like! Who the fuck even are you?”

Joel glared at him before roughly tearing Bill’s hands off of you. “Who the fuck are you to hurt the woman who’s been putting up with your shit for god knows how long?”

You glanced at Tommy with worry. He seemed to understand your silent plea because he got up and placed a secure hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How about I take Bill home, alright Joel?”

Joel kept glaring at Bill, as if he was putting a large amount of self-control into not teaching Bill a lesson, but he ultimately huffed lightly and moved out of Tommy’s way. Tommy put an arm around Bill’s shoulder, pushing him straight out of the bar, saying “Come on, Bill, you know Mary’s probably worried sick about ya.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Poor Mary.

Joel, to your surprise, didn’t accompany his brother to escort Bill back home. Instead, after watching the pair leave the bar and shut the double doors, he simply turned around to face you. “I’m uh,” he paused, scratching at his face. “I’m sorry about all the fuss. Just didn’t wanna see him disrespect you.”

You stroked the place where Bill had a vice grip on your arms, hoping that it wouldn’t bruise the next day. “I’m very grateful, Joel,” you said, smiling. “And I know you didn’t make a friend out of Bill, but I hope you know you made a friend out of me.” 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel quickly became a regular at your diner, but he never ordered any food. He’d walk in through the doors and walk directly towards the bar, planting himself in the same barstool and drinking the same whiskey. You never really minded. He always treated you with respect, made good on his promise to pay for every drink going forward, and occasionally stepped in to help you when a townsperson got a little too drunk.

Neither of you talked much, but you quietly learned things about each other. You noticed his wardrobe seemed to consist solely of different colored flannels and jeans. He spoke in a variety of intricate grunts, ranging from “hey” to “thank you.” Truly, Joel was a verbally gifted man.

Tonight wasn’t anything different. The diner was quite barren, with just a few people sitting amongst the tables, eating with close friends and family. The clink of the alcohol bottles was coupled with soft chuckles and the scraping of forks against ceramic plates.

Joel was sitting towards the left side of the bar, leaning against the stool he always inhabited. “Hey,” he said. “Can I-”

You smiled at him, your hands leaning against the countertop. “-get a whiskey? Surely we can skip the pleasantries now, Miller,” you jested lightly. Turning around, you grabbed Joel’s favorite whiskey and a glass. “How’s Jackson treating you?”

Joel grunted, and you expected that to be the end of your discussion, as it usually was every night. But instead, while you poured out a generous amount of whiskey, you heard Joel’s rough voice say, “It’s been pretty good.”

You handed him the glass. “I’m glad you like it here. I know we’re a small town, but we’re not so bad once you get used to us.” You took out your rag and started wiping down the counter. 

Joel sipped his whiskey, his red flannel pulling open a little to reveal his grey shirt underneath. You couldn’t help drifting your eyes toward his chest, but the second you caught yourself you went back to gazing at the counter, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He’s married, you thought to yourself, angrily. Behave.

Although there’s nothing wrong with accidentally looking, I guess.

He set down his glass on the counter and let out a little sigh. “Y’all definitely get a lotta snow.”

You chuckled, leaving your rag on the counter for a moment. “Yeah, it took me a while to get used to. Us southern folk just aren’t made for this type of cold.”

Joel’s eyebrow lifted slightly, intrigued. “You from the south?”

“I’m from Texas,” you revealed. “Life just forced me up north, but nothing quite feels like Texas.”

He slightly smiled, and you were almost shocked. Not once in these last few weeks did you see Joel smile, and you were confused as to why he would hide such a beautiful sight from the world. It was like the troubles of life lifted off his shoulders for just a moment, and you saw the Joel that could have been. “I’m from Texas, too. Austin.”

“No kidding,” you sighed. “You don’t see a lot of us this far north. It’s a shame. I’ve never met a friendlier group of people than down there,” you said wistfully.

Joel took another sip of his whiskey. “Well, one day you gotta go back down there. Not that I mind Jackson, but-”

“Heya,” a voice interrupted Joel. You turned to see Adelaide, your neighbor, sitting in a barstool to your right. She looked like she had just come off of work, as she was still wearing a sweater with her teacher name tag clipped near her left breast. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” 

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s okay, Addie. Can I get you anything? You don’t usually get outta school this late.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Joel had gone back to sipping at his whiskey and staring at the wall of bottles behind the bar, as he normally did when he came to visit. A small pit of disappointment stayed in your stomach. You had just gotten him to talk.

Addie sighed, twirling her brown hair around her finger. “I wanted to get ahead on grading cause the end of the school year is coming up,” she said. “And god knows I need more time to deal with all that work.”

You put your hand on hers, tilting your head. “You need to rest, Addie. You can’t keep working yourself to the bone.”

Addie waved her hand in a dismissive motion, scoffing. “I’m fine, don’t you worry. The work is distracting.”

You raised your right eyebrow. “Distracting from what?” you asked, pulling your hand back.

She leaned forward, some of her hair fanning out in front of her shoulders. “He cheated, y/n. He cheated, and then he left me, and I don’t wanna think about it more than I have to.”

Your jaw dropped, anger settling into your heart. “How could he? What’s wrong with him?”

Addie leaned back into her barstool, a stoic set to her jaw. “Apparently, Jace had even less of a brain than I gave him credit for. And do you know who he cheated on me with?” She paused. “Bill's wife Mary.”

Joel choked on his whiskey, spilling some onto the counter, and both you and Addie turned toward him. He looked nervous, ready to be faced with a barrage of insults for eavesdropping on your conversation, but Addie pointed at him and said, “Exactly! I had the same reaction!”

You chuckled, turning towards Joel apologetically. “I can get you another glass if you want, Miller. On the house.”

Joel grumbled and shook his head. “I told ya, I’m not gonna make a habit out of this free drink thing.”

You put your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, think of it as a bribe for your secrecy. You’ve stumbled upon sacred gossip, Miller.” You turned towards Addie. “Don’t we need to buy his silence?”

Addie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. The whole town is going to be in over my head if we don’t keep this quiet.”

You turned back to Joel, looking at him pointedly. “So?” you questioned. “Do you accept our proposition?”

Joel let a small smile slip back onto his face again, and he nodded. “In the name of the greater good, I accept.” You beamed, grabbing his glass and filling it. Behind you, you heard Joel turn to Addie, saying, “For what it’s worth, Jace sounds like a dick.”

“He is,” Addie replied, matter-of-factly. 

You turned around and handed Joel another glass of whiskey before sighing. “Well,” you started. “I’m officially done for the day.”

Joel gulped his whiskey and stood up. “I’ll walk you home.”

You felt a lightness in your chest warm you up more than the fireplace in the diner. “It’s okay. I’ve got Addie with me.”

Addie slapped your hand lightly, and when you looked at her with confusion she simply looked back at you pointedly. “Well, it’s pretty dark out, so it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else with us.”

“I just wouldn’t want to bother you, Joel,” you said softly. 

Joel grumbled. “Nonsense. Consider it repayment for the first free drink.”

“Oh, alright,” you relented. “Let me just grab my bag.”

It was almost funny to watch a man as rough and scarred as Joel walk through town with two chattering, gossiping women. He was silent for the whole walk, but you knew he was listening intently. He’d shake his head with disappointment when Addie talked about Jace’s affair, and the anger and judgement that Jace had when Addie finally confronted him. You couldn’t help but smile when his body gave away his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel’s eyes would occasionally flutter towards you, watching your face contort in between expressions of disbelief and annoyance at Jace. He held back a smile. There was something about how much you cared, how invested you were, that just made you such a warm, firey person. It was as if you could melt the snow falling on Jackson with merely your presence.

Joel had never liked the snow. Whenever it was cold outside, he found himself huddled near the fire.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

You were somewhat surprised when Joel stayed until the diner was closing and then offered to walk you home again.

“Joel,” you muttered. “You’ve already repaid me for the free drink with that one walk. And I’d really rather not bother you.

“You aren’t bothering me, sweetheart. If anything, consider this walk a repayment from you for me stopping Bill.” Joel put down his glass of whiskey, and you grabbed it to quickly wipe it down. “I could use the walk anyway. Ellie, my daughter,” he began, with a slight break in his voice. “She’s been coming back home a little later than I’m used to, and I’d rather not sit in my rocking chair on the porch waiting for her.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you said, grabbing your bag from underneath the bar cabinet. “How old is she?” you questioned while walking out from behind the counter.

“She’s a 14-year-old little rug rat, my Elllie,” he said, walking next to you as you both made your way out of the diner.

The cold, frigid air of Jackson hit the both of you. Small clouds of fog form in front of your nose and mouth as you make slightly ragged breaths, walking uphill on a path through Jackson. Your cabin wasn’t more than a five-minute walk from the diner, but it was still nestled away from the town center enough to have some semblance of privacy.

You laughed at the idea of Joel with a teenage daughter. “You should bring her around the diner. I don’t mind convincing the cook to slip Ellie a few snacks. I don’t want to brag or anything, but Allysa loves me and I’m sure it wouldn’t be much of a bother.”

Joel crossed his arms and shivered slightly. “I’ll tell her. She’d love to meet you. She’s a little chirpier than I am, so you’d both get along great.”

You took a glance at him. He had his eyes trained on the snow covered path, a slight frown on his face. You were overcome with the urge to say anything to wipe that frown off his face, to replace it with a smile, or even his usual flat lined mouth. “Aw, Miller. You’re not so bad.”

Joel smirked. “That’s high praise, sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered slightly, and you tried your hardest to ignore it. “So. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Huh?” Joel looked up at you, confused. “Oh. There’s none. I practically adopted Ellie, although Tommy insists she adopted me. But whatever way you wanna see it, no woman was involved in the process.” He paused. “I mean, other than Ellie herself, but to me she’s just a little girl-”

You interrupted him with your laughter. It was so strong you crossed your free hand under your stomach, trying to contain yourself. “Sorry,” you said through your laughter. “I just never thought I’d see you ramble like that.” Not married, huh. 

Even in the dark, you could see Joel blush. He wiped his finger on the bridge of his door, looking down with nervousness. “Well, don’t go around tellin’ everyone. I kinda like being the grumpy traveler.”

“You’re such a softie, Miller.”

Both you and Joel stopped in front of the steps that led to your front porch. You had garden beds lining the front wall, but the snow had killed the plants that had taken root in the dirt. It was one of the few things you hated about Jackson; you had to say goodbye to your plants every nine months. Few pretty flowers survived the winter.

Joel sighed, a large cloud of breath forming in front of his face and dissipating as soon as it came. “So,” he said, rocking on his heels. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “I’ll have your whiskey ready, Miller.”

Neither of you moved. The wind blew, making you both shiver slightly, and you started climbing up the steps to your porch. “Actually, do you want to come inside?” you asked. “I could put on a cup of hot tea that you could walk back with. And I probably have one of my dad’s coats you could borrow.”

Behind you, you heard Joel’s shoes making patterns in the snow. “I guess Ellie won’t be back for a while still.” The wood of your front porch steps creaked along with the smile on your face. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy but soft, smelling of whiskey and pine and a hint of smoke. The fast beat of your heart echoed in your ears.

You grabbed your keys from your bag with shaky hands and opened your front door. Both you and Joel walked in, stomping off the snow that accumulated on your boots onto the welcome mat. “Sorry if it’s messy,” you say, flipping on the light switch. “I wasn’t planning for company.”

Joel grunted, walking past you to take in the living room. It wasn’t much, but you liked to think you filled your cabin some life.

There, in the center of the room, was a worn couch that had resided in your parent’s house before you moved out here. In front of the couch was the coffee table you’d painstakingly made by chopping the wood and making it from scratch. The dining table and chairs had been taken from Addie’s cabin after she obtained a better table. It wasn’t picturesque; it was bits and pieces of your life throughout the decades. A mosaic, just like Jackson.

“You’re welcome to sit,” you said, throwing your bag onto the corner of your couch as you did every day. “I’ll just put some tea on.”

Walking towards the far end of the living room, where the kitchen resided, you picked up your kettle and filled it with water. Joel sat on the couch, stroking the worn cloth. “It’s a pretty old couch,” he remarked quietly.

You chuckled while turning on the stove. “It used to be in my parent’s house,” you said. “He gifted it to me a long time ago.”

“Thank you, by the way,” said Joel. “For the tea. You didn’t really have to.”

“Come on, Miller. I’ve been serving you some kind of drink every day now. It’s our thing,” you teased. You were pleased when he laughed heartily. He’s more himself when we’re alone, you noted. I like it. 

You both let yourself sit in silence, waiting for the kettle to whistle. As you made some peppermint tea- the only kind you had at the moment- your eyes kept flickering over to Joel. He kept noticing little tidbits throughout your living room. 

His fingers stroked the stitched cut on the couch with an amused smirk on his face. “How’d this happen?”

“I think I was seven? I was really into knitting, but I overestimated how much damage a knitting needle could do. I think I got mad that I kept fucking up, and I just stabbed the couch.” You laughed. “My dad took one look at it and chuckled. He said it was cute how much I cared.”

You brought the mugs of tea over to the coffee table, setting them down. “I hope it’s not too bad. Serving alcohol doesn’t involve a lot of steps.”

Joel chuckled. “I can imagine you with knitting needles, just throwing a little mini tantrum over a blanket.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now I hope that tea is shitty.” You sat down on the couch, sitting right next to Joel even though there was ample room next to you. “And, for your information, I’m pretty good at knitting. That blanket right here,” you said, pointing to the blanket haphazardly laid on the arm of your couch, “is purely a y/n production.”

Joel touched the blanket with his fingers, poking at the small holes. “You did a good job,” he said. Something in your stomach stirred at the praise, but you carefully tucked it away. No need to get any hopes up, you thought.

Humming, you picked up your mug and blew at the tea slightly. “Thanks, Miller.”

“Why do you call me Miller?” Joel asked. “Why don’t you call me Joel?”

You tilted your head. He noticed. “I call you Joel sometimes.” I didn’t know he’d notice things about me. 

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve called me Joel exactly twice.”

You didn’t know to tell him that calling him his first name felt like an intimate gesture to you, how you couldn’t imagine saying his name without the weight in your heart you felt every time he came into the diner. With every second he spent near you, that weight grew slowly but surely, and you didn’t know what to do with it. 

You thought he was married. Turns out he’s not. That weight in your heart starts feeling more like it belongs there, replacing the initial shame you felt for your soft spot. Shame that you tried to overcome by calling him Miller.

How do you tell a man that?

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I call Tommy, Miller too. I guess I figured the tradition should continue between brothers? I really don’t know.”

Joel looked at you, his brown eyes looking like a cloudy river. You so desperately wanted to see through to the bottom. “Call me Joel when it’s just us,” he said. 

You took a sip of your tea. “Of course, Joel.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for his mug. “Look at us, getting along. And Tommy said I couldn’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled before you remembered the time. “Oh my god. I was supposed to grab you a coat.” You stood up quickly, walking to the wardrobe behind your dining table, muttering, “I’d hate for you to miss Ellie coming home.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s no reason to worry. I live two minutes away, I’ll be fine,” Joel said from the couch in a reassuring voice. It was as if his rough voice smoothed slightly around the edges. He spoke in long, legato lines instead of his regular staccato responses, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your mouth as you hunted for your dad’s coat.

“Still, Joel,” you said, reveling in the privilege of saying his name. “Ellie comes first.” You grabbed your dad’s wool coat and folded it over your arm, bringing it to Joel. “You can keep this if you want,” you told him. “I never really have a use for it.”

You felt the warmth of Joel’s hand against your arm for just a moment as he grabbed the coat from you. You barely heard him saying “thank you.” It was as if his voice had been muddled by some kind of blurry screen.

Your brain turns into a crush-riddled caveman. Warm, you think. Rough. But gentle. 

“No problem,” you say hoarsely. “Anything for you, Joel.”

As he leaves, you let the shape of his name coat your lips, playing with it in your cheek, letting it take its place. 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

“Is your name y/n?” you hear a young voice ask behind you.

You spin around, eyeing the young girl with confusion. “Yeah, what can I do for you?” You smoothed down your shirt.

The young girl broke out into a smile and pointed at herself. “My name’s Ellie. Joel told me to stop by.”

You broke out into a smile, extending a hand out over the bar countertop. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie.” She shook your hand enthusiastically, smiling from ear to ear. “Let me go back and tell the cook to make you some food. She’s making some tomato and mozzarella sandwiches right now, is that okay?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” she said. “I’ll take anything.”

You chuckled. “Your dad was right, you’re one chipper girl.”

She seemed to take pause. “He called me his daughter?” 

Rambling, you shook your head frantically out of nervousness. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that it wasn’t-” Oh god, I ruined everything. 

“No, you’re good, don’t worry. I just…” she trailed out. “He’s not a man of many words, ya know? I mean I’m sure you know- he doesn’t exactly scream ‘literate,’ but still. I know he cares, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it.”

You grinned, relieved. Reaching out to touch her shoulder lightly, you reassured her, saying “Aw, honey, Joel loves you more than anything. It’s so obvious to everyone that it’s insane. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, alright?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. You told her you’d disappear for a second to tell Allysa to set aside an extra sandwich, and when you made it back, Ellie was sitting at the bar, leaning her head in her hands, staring at the alcohol bottles. Like father, like daughter, you supposed.

“The sandwich should be out soon, alright honey?” you said gently. 

“Are you from Texas too? You sound a little like Joel,” Ellie joked. 

You nodded. “I’m from San Antonio,” you revealed. “Actually, I wasn’t too far from where your old man Miller grew up. Maybe an hour's drive? I’m not sure anymore, it’s been a while since I was there.”

Allyssa brought out Ellie’s sandwich, setting it on the bar countertop. “Enjoy it, alright sweetie?” she said to Ellie. “I put a little extra cheese on yours.”

Ellie said thank you and dug into her sandwich, but unlike her father, she kept the conversation going. “I’ve been tryna convince Joel to go back to Austin, but he turns into this pain in the ass whenever I bring it up,” she said. “I’ll get him to go there eventually. If I annoy him enough, he caves.”

You chuckle. “Why doesn’t he wanna go? It seems like he misses it.”

“He’s had a hard life,” Ellie said protectively. “He’s been through some shit in Austin. I guess he just doesn’t wanna visit it again.”

You hummed. “I get that,” you said, sighing. “Anyway. How long are y’all staying in Jackson?”

Ellie shrugged. “It was supposed to be a few days, but I really like it here. There’s only so much traveling you can do before you get sick of not having a home, you know? Besides, I don’t think Joel wants to leave either.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “He keeps saying he’s gonna leave but he doesn’t pull the trigger,” she said, her voice muffled with her sandwich.

You reached under the bar cabinet and wordlessly handed her a napkin, which she took graciously. “I told him he’d get sucked into Jackson. It’s too cozy.”

“It really is. I’ve made friends! I went to go study with one of them the other night,” Ellie said, practically jumping up and down. “I hope Joel never wants to leave.”

Me too, you thought. 

You and Ellie kept talking about her life in Jackson, her school, the hobbies she’s picked up. You chuckled when she told you that she picked up archery. “I really like pointy things,” she said. “Bonus if they can kill someone.” 

You laughed. “When I was your age, I was obsessed with fencing. My dad signed me up for a class and everything, even though my mom said no. He’d take me in secret. He told me he was proud that if someone broke into the house, his daughter could protect him,” you told Ellie, laughing lightly. “He’d love you.”

“He sounds fucking awesome,” Ellie remarked. 

He was, you thought.

The joy in her eyes filled with more warmth than you thought possible. You had the urge to stroke her cheek, get her more food, and walk her home- anything to keep those eyes full of light. 

While Ellie was pattering about an embarrassing story of her and Joel on the road, she brushed some crumbs off of her fingers onto the plate. Your eyes involuntarily flickered down to the movement. You saw a few, parallel, thin scars underneath her wrist, just barely covered by the fold of her elbow. Something in your heart tightened to the point of pain, and you couldn’t bear to look Ellie in the eye for a little while.

You found yourself looking down at the bar counter, hoping Ellie didn’t notice what you’d just observed. Counting the number of scars, you branded the number in your mind. Nine. 

You’d go insane if you found a tenth in the future.

Keeping up a normal pretense, you both chatted until the lunch rush hour entered, prompting Ellie to push her plate towards you and stand. “I should probably head out and let you get back to your job,” she said. “But we should do this again.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “You’re welcome anytime, honey.” You lightly grabbed her hand with both of yours. “Be careful with archery, okay? I don’t wanna see any major injuries,” you said, a slight motherly tilt in your voice.

Ellie put her other hand around yours and squeezed lightly. “I won’t, I promise.” 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel stopped by the diner a few days later. He came in later than usual- almost five minutes before closing- and sat down in his barstool, panting lightly as he sat. 

You had been wiping down the counter when his presence made itself known. “Are you okay, Joel?” you asked. “Let me get you a glass of water.” You were grateful that the diner was completely barren, with even Allysa having gone home, leaving just you and Joel in the space. Your heart would have broken if Joel was seen in such a vulnerable state by people who didn’t understand him.

Please let me help, you thought. Don’t be all tough around me.

Pouring him an ice-cold glass of water, you decided to walk around the counter and sit next to him instead of your usual position. “Joel?” you questioned him again.

He didn’t respond, opting to gulp down the whole glass of water. “Just gimme a minute.”

You nodded. Joel was shaking slightly, and you slowly decided to stroke his arm gently- up and down, feeling the wrinkles that formed on his flannel from the motion. Under different circumstances, you might have lept with glee at the realization that Joel didn’t move when you touched him; in fact, he leaned into your hand. “You’re okay, Joel,” you reminded him. “I’m here.” You kept repeating reassuring phrases as he calmed himself down.

Eventually, he put his hand over yours, stopping it from its repetitive motion. “M’sorry,” he said. Before you could interrupt him to insist that there was nothing to be sorry about, he continued on. “Just had to come see you.”

You reached out to touch the area between his shoulder and his neck lightly. “Please don’t be sorry. I’d rather see you in front of me than know that this happens when I can’t help.”

Joel’s head hung down low and he groaned, seeming tired from his day’s events. “I just don’t wanna be a bother, but nothing else was helping.”

You toed with the intimate line between the two of you, desperately wanting to outright cross it but refusing to do so without his indication. It was frustrating, this dance. But the last thing you wanted Joel to feel around you was uncomfortable, so instead of cupping his cheek the way your fingers were itching to, you simply moved your hands down and gripped his hands lightly. “You’re not a bother, Joel. You’re never a bother. You’re practically the highlight of my day.” You paused. “Is that what this is about? Do you think I- sorry we- don’t want you?”

Joel tilted his head. “Part of it, I guess.” He sighed heavily. “Is it okay if we go back to your place? Ellie’s got a slumber party so I don’t really got anyone waitin’ on me.” He wiped his face. “Only if you wanna, of course,” he added, rushed.

“Nonsense, Joel. You’re always welcome over.” And with that, you both set out on your daily walk- except this time no words were exchanged.

You’d glance over to the man next to you, your heart dropping whenever he moved out of the ordinary. He scratched his beard. Beat. He cracked his knuckles. Beat. He almost tripped. Beat. Such a contrast to the careful, meticulously observant man you had come to know.

“Joel,” you whispered to him when you’d arrived in front of your porch. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

You both walked inside, and Joel immediately walked over and slumped onto your couch. “Today’s my daughter’s birthday,” he revealed.

“Oh,” you said, confused. “I didn’t know it was Ellie’s birthday.”

Joel shook his head. “My other daughter. Sarah.”

You made your way next to Joel, sensing the sensitive subject he was going to reveal to you. “What happened with Sarah?”

Joel’s eyes closed, and he leaned his head back, his eyelids scrunched in a phantom pain you wish you could’ve waived away with your hands. “She passed away, a few years back. Drunk driving accident.” He breathed deeply. “It’s why I ended up here, I guess. Just couldn’t bear to go back home when she- she,” his voice broke.

Fuck the line between us, you thought. You engulfed him in a hug, his large frame serving as a strong structure for you to lay your head against. “It’s okay,” you said lightly. “You don’t have to finish that sentence.”

He’s shaking, you noticed with tears lining your eyes. My Joel is shaking.

“She was everything to me. She was the only thing that mattered to me before Ellie, y’know? I’d do anything just to see her smile again,” he revealed. “Anything.”

You let a tear fall, staining Joel’s flannel a deep, dark color. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You stroked his back over and over again, letting Joel rest against you.

“I kept wandering from city to city, afterward,” he revealed. “Didn’t really stay for longer than a week. And then I met Ellie. Her parents threw her out and she had nowhere to go. She’s so much like Sarah that it scared me, and I gave Ellie a bit of a hard time cause of it.” He took in a breath. “They’re both pieces of my soul, Sarah and Ellie. I’m like half a man.”

His head moved to the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his deep breaths against your skin. Greedily, you let your hand drift to his hair, toying with it lightly. “Take your time, Joel,” you whispered. “I’m here.”

Joel hummed against your neck, and you felt the vibrations leave goosebumps in their wake. “Thank you,” he said. “For being here.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that it was a privilege to hold him up, so you simply left a light kiss on his temple. “I know how you feel, a little,” you revealed. “My dad died a few years ago. Lung cancer. It felt like I’d lost a part of me.” You took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I still feel like he’s around, kind of like a phantom limb that I can’t use. It honestly hurts more when that happens. It just reminds me of all the love that I lost.

“But then I remember that losing that love just meant I had it at some point in my life. I had the best father the world could have ever given me. He made me who I am, and I try to remember that. Sarah had so much love in her life,” you said, placing a gentle palm against the side of his face. “She had you. You did for her what my father did for me. I know it’s not much, and nothing can bring her back, but even if this means nothing, you need to know that she loved you more than I can possibly express.”

You felt cold, wet circles fall onto your neck like the light pitter-patter of rain. Kissing Joel’s temple again, you whispered, “She made you who you are. That’s more evidence that she’ll always be with you.”

You heard Joel whimper lightly before the floodgates opened. “Oh, baby,” you said sympathetically. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

You and Joel sat there on the couch, lumped together in a tight embrace, for what felt like hours. And, when Joel had finally let out every tear that he had in him, he finally lifted his head out of the crevice between your neck and shoulder and looked at you with his puffy eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice slightly nasally. “I didn’t mean to-”

“If you complete that sentence, I’ll slap you so hard you’ll see stars, alright? That’s what friends are for,” you told him, internally cringing at the word friends.

Joel’s head tilted. “Friends?” he asked. “I don’t know if friends do what we do, sweetheart.”

You were suddenly very aware that almost every part of yours and Joel’s upper bodies were practically glued together. You were looking up at him, your breath bouncing off of Joel’s chin, his scruff occasionally tickling your cheekbone when one of you moved slightly. 

You hesitated. After what Joel had just told you, was tonight really the best time to toe the line? “Joel, I don’t want to do anything you’d regret. Not when you’re in this state of mind.”

He nodded, understanding. “I’d agree with you if I hadn’t felt like this for weeks,” he said. “It’s hard for me to not feel like this, not when I hear Ellie raving about you after she visited. Not when you look as breathtaking as you did that first day that I saw you, serving me a glass of free whiskey like I was worth a damn.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “I’ve done nothing for you, absolutely nothing, and yet you’ve given me everything you can. You laugh at my jokes even when they’re not funny, you make me tea just so I don’t walk home cold.”

Joel sighed, his breath hugging your face in a warm blanket. “All these weeks, I came every day just to see you. It infuriated me sometimes, knowing that you had no idea the effect you had on me. As if you didn’t know how my eyes were practically glued to you when you weren’t looking.”

 Your eyes closed. “Look at me,” he urged. You pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Do you really think I don’t like you? The only thing keeping me in Jackson is you.” 

You looked down at yours and Joel’s now joined hands. “Joel…”

“Sweetheart,” he echoed. 

You looked back up at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

Joel’s palm moved up to cup your face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Every reason why Joel shouldn’t be with you flashed through your mind. You’re too clingy. You talk too much. You freak out over small things. You don’t know how to let things go. You’ll burden him. You’ll force him to stay where there’s snow, even though he hates it.

But when you look at Joel, a selfish part of you doesn’t care. You don’t care that this could blow up in your face, the way every other relationship of yours had. 

“Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself before you let your lips touch Joel’s. His hand comes to the back of your head, locking you in place while he patiently explores the curve of your lips, the slight noise you make when he really focuses on your lower lip. Your hands make their way around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. More, more, more, you thought.

You pull apart but neither of you stray far, with Joel’s forehead leaning against yours. “Still think we’re just friends, sweetheart?” he asked you.

Chuckling, you left a peck on his lips. “The bestest friends.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel didn’t leave your cabin that night, instead opting to sleep on the couch with your knitted blanket. You protested heavily, insisting that there was space in your bed for him to rest, but he met every single plea with a simple answer: “I’m a little old-fashioned, sweetheart.”

Awaking the next morning, you smiled before pulling away your blankets faster than you ever had before so you could greet the man resting on your couch downstairs. You expected to find a man-shaped lump on your couch, but instead, you were greeted with the smell of pancakes and eggs, and the slightly chaotic sounds that was Joel Miller attempting to cook.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. Who thought this rugged man would wake up early to make pancakes? you thought. “Good morning, Joel.”

Joel turned around from the stove, clad in an unbuttoned red flannel and jeans. He looked picturesque in this light, the morning rays of sunshine hitting his skin just right. His hair looked a shade lighter than usual through the sunlight. You let your eyes wander to his chest, going lower, and lower, and-

 “Mornin’ sweetheart,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me fiddling around here. Just wanted to make you breakfast as a thank you for last night.”

Walking towards Joel, you crossed your arms. “What did I say about that? There’s no reason to thank me, and there’s no reason to say sorry.” You paused only to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. Joel’s arms snaked around your waist tightly. If you never moved from this position, you’d consider it an upgrade from your life. “But, since I like pancakes, I’ll overlook it just this once.”

Joel chuckled and grinned. “Aren’t you selfless,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to yours. 

“Hmm, I am-”

Joel stopped you from finishing your sentence with his lips, softly caressing your tongue with his. Unlike last night, he took his time when kissing you, moving in slow, languid movements- like he had all the time in the world, or if he didn’t have time then he just didn’t care. 

He pulled away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small intake of breath. Joel smirked. “So is this what gets you to stop talking, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. “So you want me to stop talking?” you asked him, jest in your voice.

Joel tilted his head and let out a light chuckle, his scruff scratching your forehead with the movement. “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” you said, slight reverence in your voice. 

Joel let you go, grabbing the spatula he’d taken out of your drawer and he went to flip a pancake that lay on your pan. “I hope you like chocolate chip. It’s Ellie’s favorite.”

You hugged Joel from behind. “I’d love that, Joel.”

And so you spent breakfast with Joel, eating chocolate chip pancakes at your dining table like you were kids again. For the first time in a while, you let yourself drench your pancakes in maple syrup. You and Joel chatted about your lives: Joel about his trip from Austin to Jackson, the weird errands he’d run to earn money fast- and you about life after your father’s death, how you decided you’d live in a small town full of snow purely because your father despised the sweltering hot weather of Texas.

You found it refreshing, that you and Joel could now talk freely. It was like that kiss last night had unlocked something in him. You found that you didn’t mind this change.

* (smut below)

Putting the dishes in the sink, Joel cleared his throat. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shook your head. “It’s my day off. Do you know when Ellie is going to be back home?”

“Oh, she won’t be back for a while. That little shit loves to push how long she can stay out.” Joel walked up to where you stood near the sink, rinsing the maple syrup patches off of your plates. “Which works out great for us.”

You grabbed Joel’s arms loosely with your hands, reveling in the feel of his muscles underneath his skin, the veins that would occasionally stick out on his skin. “It truly does,” you said slyly. “What are you planning, Miller?”

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your small frame towards his, and you gasped lightly at the feeling of your lower stomach being glued to his body. “Not much,” he murmured. He grabbed your chin with his fingers. “Nothing important.”

“Hmm, I’m sure,” you said, inching your face closer to his. “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flickered closed. “How flexible are you when it comes to being traditional?” you asked him, slightly breathless.

His lips brushed against yours as he answered, “Right now? Tradition is the last thing on my mind,” he said, punctuation his point by letting his hands wander to the patch of skin between your back and your ass. He placed a short, chaste kiss on your lips. “But I won’t do anything unless you say.”

Your breaths mingled with each other's, and you swore your heartbeat had never been faster. “Please,” you asked.

“Please what?” he retorted calmly.

You almost whined with disappointment. “You know what I’m asking, Joel.”

Joel pulled back a little, and you couldn’t stop the slight whine that left your mouth. “I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me.”

“Just fuck me,” you said breathlessly.

Joel smirked before grabbing your face and kissing you, a smile present on his lips the whole time. An arrogant smile. Damn that bastard. 

He pulled away from your lips momentarily to began skimming your cheek, your jaw, your neck. He paid special attention there once he heard the obscene moan that left you when he sucked at just the right spot, leaving a bright reddish-purple mark in its place. “Joel,” you breathed.

“I love it when you say my name,” he whispered into your neck. “No one says it like you.” His hands started wandering to the bottom of your pajama shirt, slipping underneath to softly begin the upward climb to your breasts. “No bra, huh?” he questioned, palming your breast.

“Didn’t uh,” you started between gasps. “Didn’t think I needed one. Sorry if that was-” You were interrupted by Joel’s mouth on yours, sucking lightly on your lower lip making you moan loudly.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “I’d sooner shoot myself in the leg than tell you to wear a bra around me.” 

You laughed, and he cupped your face with his other hand. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “So mine.” He went back to paying attention to your breasts, skimming his finger lightly over your hardened nipples. You saw the effect his exploration had on him; or, rather, felt the effect, as his crotch was pressing tightly against your stomach. 

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you topless in front of Joel. His hands froze, eyes skimming over your body. Feeling brave, you smirked and said, “You gonna do something, Miller?”

“Aren’t you mouthy,” he said, sarcasm evident in his voice. “I’ll take care of that soon.” With that, he guided you to your upstairs bedroom, throwing his flannel off on the way. You couldn’t help but admire the slight back muscles Joel had. There was almost no imperfection with this man.

When you reached your bedroom, Joel grabbed you by your shoulders and swiftly through you on your bed. Your cheap mattress squeaked lightly, and you laughed against your floral bedsheets. “I’ve thought about this so much,” he revealed, tearing down your shorts. He knelt on your floor, eye to eye with your panties, and you hoped there wasn’t a telltale dark spot on the fabric that would give away just how ready you were to fuck this man. “Ever since that first time I walked into the diner.”

You writhed slightly under his stare. “Joel, please just fuck me,” you begged lightly. “I’m not feeling very patient.”

You heard him chuckle and then felt his arm push down onto your lower stomach, keeping you in place. “But I am,” he said. He touched the center of your panties, forcing a gasp out of you. He chuckled again. “So needy.” He pulled your panties aside, finding you wet and glistening. Without warning, he licked a stripe up your pussy, making you let out a languid moan. “Best fucking breakfast I’ve had in years,” he proclaimed, pulling your panties off your legs. 

Joel kneads your thighs as he continues licking and occasionally sucking at your clit, and you reveled in the filthy sounds made by your wetness. He lazily keeps stroking your pussy with his tongue, letting his tongue slowly explore every crevice and find every sensitive point that ushered out the loudest whines.

“Oh, god,” you sighed. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

He flicked his tongue against your clit over and over again, stopping only to suck and lick and hum into your pussy. The vibrations keep pushing you closer and closer to the edge. And then you felt his fingers lightly tracing your lips before he stuck one finger in, curling it rapidly. “More,” you begged. “Fuck, please Joel- Oh!”

He added in a second finger, curling them both against that sensitive spot inside you that made you see stars, all while his tongue played with your clit. It was almost too much, all the sensations combined, and you were glad that Joel still had a hand holding your stomach down because your back started arching. “I'm so close, oh god, keep going!”

Joel’s resolve never wavered. Your moans gave him more than enough fuel to keep curling, keep licking, keep pleasuring you to the point of tears. He opened his eyes and looked at you from between your legs, and the sinful sight of that beautiful man feasting on you sent you over the edge. His tongue helped you ride out your orgasm whilst you moaned and shook and said his name over and over, Joel, Joel, Joel!

When he finally lifted his head and started climbing over you, he had a wicked smile on his face. “You’re even prettier when you come apart on my tongue, sweetheart.” His rough voice caressed your body as he made his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on him, but that just spurred you on.

“It’s not fair that you’re still wearing pants,” you remarked. 

“Then do something about it,” he replied. You smiled and let your hand slowly make its way down to his pants, lightly stroking his chest on the way down. You reached his zipper and palmed his cock through his trousers, making him hiss. “Don’t be a tease. I’ll make you regret it next time.”

“Oh,” you started. “So there’s going to be a next time? Someone’s confident,” you remarked while you unzipped his pants. 

Joel stood up and kicked his pants off as fast as he could. “I’ll fuck that attitude out of you soon enough, sweetheart.”

You grinned. “I’m waiting.” You made your way towards the middle of your bed, making yourself comfortable amongst the pillows. Your mouth almost frothed at the sight before you: a naked Joel Miller, cock slapped against his stomach, girthy and slightly red with need. 

“Someone’s staring,” Joel remarked, joining you on your bed.

“Do you blame me?” you asked. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he settled on top of you, his cock so close to where you needed him most. “You’re perfect.”

He cupped your face. “You’re one to talk,” he retorted. He shifted his hips slightly, groaning when some of your wetness got on the tip of his dick. “If I do anything you don’t like, just tap me three times on my arm, okay?” he said, sweetly. “And I’ll stop the second you do that.”

You nodded. “I trust you, Joel.”

He leaned down and kissed you, slowly, lovingly, softly. Such a contrast to how he handled you earlier. It almost made tears come to your eyes. This man, who looked so rough on the surface, had the softest heart you’d ever known.

Pulling away from your lips, he led his dick right to your entrance. “Now,” he said, jest in his voice. “Back to the fun stuff.” He slowly thrust into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. “Fuck, even your pussy is perfect,” he praised.

“Oh,” you moaned out when he bottomed out. He stayed there for a little, letting you adjust, but you could see the restraint it took in the way his body shook lightly. But you didn’t have much restraint either, and so you looked at him and said, “Fuck me like you mean it, Miller.”

You saw the gleam in his eyes and then it was over for you. He set a harsh, fast pace, the sound of your thighs slapping together filling your room along with your moans and his groans. “Such a good girl for me,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust. “So fucking good.”

He pulled out only to move you slightly on your side and then lift your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to spread you out even more than before. He pushed in and you almost screamed with pleasure. “Fuck,” you moaned, trailing out the word. Joel cut you off by grabbing your neck with his hand, applying slight pressure, and choking you.

“There we go,” he cooed, thrusting into you hard. “See? See how it works out for you when you don’t give me attitude?” You interrupted him with a loud moan. “Such a beautiful, fucked out little slut.”

“I’m so close, Joel,” you said lightly, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh my god!”

Joel’s thrusts continued, sweat beading on his forehead. His grunts got louder and more breathy. “That’s it, just like that,” he said. “Gonna make you come around my cock, huh? That’s what you want?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, whispering a somewhat breathy sounding “Please! I’m so close.”

“Do it,” he ordered you harshly. “Come for me. Come for me like the good little slut you are,” he said while putting more pressure around your neck, choking you harder. You came even harder than before, shaking and writhing around his cock, and Joel kept thrusting into you. You whined with overstimulation.

Joel’s thrusts started getting sloppy, and soon he groaned “I’m gonna come,” before pulling out of you and pumping himself harshly. He came on your lower stomach. And while he knelt on your bed, out of breath, his eyes couldn’t help but watch his come drip down your stomach a little. “One day,” he began, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’ll be counting down the days.”

* (smut finished)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Twelve months, two weeks, and four days later, you and Joel tied the knot. You had a small wedding in Jackson, with Tommy as Joel’s best man and Ellie as your maid of honor. Addie married the two of you, and you couldn’t be happier with your choice. She practically made you cry with her heartfelt speech, talking about the newfound friendship she had with Joel and how you had given her a brother she never had.

“You two are made for each other,” she had said. 

Both you and Joel had written your own vows to each other. You had the papers you wrote your vows on framed in your bedroom, and occasionally you found yourself reading Joel’s handwriting and marveling at your luck. His vows were shorter than yours- he was a man of few words- but my god, did he write powerfully.

“I’ve been to so many cities in my lifetime. Nothing ever really convinced me to stay, but then I came to Jackson and I saw you in that diner, standing behind the bar like an angel. I still remember how you looked like you glowed under those lights. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I wanted to stay.

“Sometimes I wonder if I was wandering around aimlessly in my life from city to city, just looking for you. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to spend a single day without you.”

You’d bawled like anything that day. You had an amazing husband, a beautiful step daughter, and a wedding that your father would have approved of. You felt him in the air around you that day. While you and Joel had your first dance, you remember feeling like someone had placed your hand on your shoulder; but when you glanced, no one was there.

I love you, Dad, you had thought to yourself that day. I love you so much.

Now, while you glanced at your newly made wedding photo album, you felt the memories rush into you like a wave. It had only been a month since then. You still missed that day.

“Sweetheart,” you heard a voice say from downstairs. “Do we have any more boxes to pack?”

You smiled. Joel. “Just one more,” you yelled back. “I’ll be down in a little!”

You stroked the cover of your wedding album and put it gingerly at the top of a filled cardboard box. The sight of your now barren bedroom made tears begin to line your eyes, but your stomach danced with excitement for the future. Before you could start sobbing with nostalgia, you picked up your box and carried it down the stairs. 

The creak of the stairs was music to your ears. It was a shame you wouldn’t hear it for a while.

Joel stood in the center of the living room, staring out the window while waiting for you. When he heard the telltale creak of the stairs, his head moved in your direction. “There you are,” he whispered. “Ellie’s sitting in the truck already.”

“Sorry, I was just caught up with all the memories of this place,” you responded apologetically. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”

Joel tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll be back eventually, I promise.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“I will, too.”

You both relaxed for a few seconds before you heard a honk from the trunk. “Your daughter is getting impatient,” Joel said, laughing lightly.

“We should get going before she drives into the house,” you said teasingly. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

You climbed down your front porch steps, going to the trunk of the green truck Joel had borrowed from Tommy. You placed the cardboard box in the back and pulled up the barrier. Well, this is it, you thought.

Austin, here we come.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Tagged: @orcasoul

[guessimwritingficsagain]

It's lonely at the end of the world (until it's not)

Summary : Joel meets a woman on patrol.

Warnings : Mature content, MDNI, reader has been raped and it's clearly at the center of the story (not byJoel, though), ANGST.

Tags : Just ask.

———

Joel heard the breathing first, a rapid staccato that spelt fear in its rhythm. He turned the corner to a gun pointed to his face and as always, his mind went to this place, this corner it created for itself so he could survive. 

Funny, he numbly thought, how his treacherous brain still managed to keep him alive although he’d wanted to die so many times. 

He looked ahead to see a woman, clothes stiff with dirt. Her hands were steady, and she stood tall, but when he met her eyes he saw it- fear. 

And then, voices-

Men.

‘Come on, she couldn’t have gone far.’ Said one.

‘Why are we even botherin’ ? I mean, we had our fun, right ? We’ll find another one. She was kinda borin’ anyway.’ Added another. 

A third voice, then :

‘She killed Johnny and took his gun. We findin’ the bitch.’

Three men meant three guns. But that woman still hadn’t shot him, and that’s when he saw it : two scars, on each side of her mouth, shaped into a smile. And that’s when he decided :

‘How many, total ?’ He whispered. 

After a breath, one of her hands left the handle of the gun and raised three fingers in the air. 

‘Guess you took care of Johnny boy for me, right ?’ He answered. 

She didn’t laugh but her eyes widened.

‘There’s a closet right there. Get in. Stay hidden.’

And then he added, because he was a bit of an asshole but that had kept him alive for so long :

‘Word of advice : stop breathin’ like that, unless you wanna get killed.’

She slowly lowered the gun and glanced to the closet. 

‘Go on’ Joel urged her. ‘Get in there.’ 

When he heard the click of the closet door closing, he got to work. 

And that’s how he met you. 

———

You watched as this stranger dumped the bodies outside and then : 

‘I’m Joel, by the way. Joel Miller.’

You nodded. He waited, then sighed, and added :

‘You take one of the beds. I’ll keep watch from the couch. You can go your own way or you can come with me, come mornin’’ 

You nodded again, a bit lost, a bit weary, a bit everything because that man had just killed three men in cold blood but had never asked to surrender your weapon. Hadn’t asked - demanded - anything else either.

There was a part, locked far away in your brain, that remembered what kindness was like, felt like - you were ten and the neighbor next door would offer you a cookie just because, you were eight and your friend at school (Emmy was her name, you remembered) split her chocolate bar with you, just because. 

Laying on the bed, you watched the ceiling - there were cracks everywhere, you wouldn’t be surprised if some bit of paint fell on you during the night. 

Mostly, you waited- waited for him to come and collect. 

But he didn’t. 

He didn’t come. 

Joel Miller stayed on the couch, and when it finally hit you, when you understood, you cried, face buried in the mattress- and your crying was a silent thing, the bastard child of desperation and relief. 

The morning light came and with it you could look at Joel properly and you saw him as someone else, anew. Here was this man, his broad shoulders, his confidence, willing to give you a home. You wanted to both run out of distrust and cry out of disbelief. You rode with him, arms tight around his waist, head on his back and that’s when you heard it - the steady beat of his heart. I changed something in you, like something that had been dead and buried was suddenly, even though shyly, blossoming right there, in between your ribs.

You stopped at a place too clean to be abandoned and Joel said- no, announced :

‘We stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll reach Jackson.’

Once again the words got stuck in your throat. There was something, there, stuck, something that had settled in after one too many ‘you gonna be nice for me, right ?’ Right before you heard the sound of a belt buckle being undone. 

You took a bed, he took watch, but you couldn’t sleep, so, arms hugging yourself, you kneeled right beside where he was sat on a chair, gun ready. You cheek sat on his thigh and he tensed, weary and ready to bolt.

‘Whatever you think might be happenin’ here, it ain’t, lady.’ He warned you. 

I know. You wanted to say, but the words were stuck, they’d been stuck for so long you didn’t even remember what your voice sounded like. And past-you would find it both pathetic and worrisome that you would so easily trust that man and seek comfort in him. But past-you was gone. So you kept your head on his thigh and fell asleep just like that. 

———

‘Alright’, Maria said, ‘we have a few spare bedrooms so you can get one, have some space.’

Past-you would have thanked her. Past-you would have shaken Joel’s hand, thanked him, and would have taken the room. 

Past you was still gone, and probably never coming back. 

The movement is blurry - will remain blurry, probably forever - how you grasp Joel’s arm, words chocking you because desperate as you are you can’t give them a voice, and then you cry, and though the moment is blurry you will always remember how bad it is, in that moment, to not be able to say please, I need you, you saved me, please. 

———

They let you stay with him.

You’d come to understand that about Jackson : there were rules, but you could do things if you wanted. 

They let you stay with Joel and on the first night, in that strange bedroom, eyes wide open despite the bone-crushing exhaustion you were feeling, you got up from that very nice bed, and walked, bare-footed, wearing soft clothes, your body clean for the first time in ages, you knocked on Joel’s bedroom door. 

When you opened it, Joel started :

‘Listen, you don’t owe me-‘

To be cut off when you slipped under the covers and put your head on his chest. His heartbeat was in a bit of a frenzy and it did take him a while to relax and put his arm around you. 

And so you slept.

The first night.

The second. 

The third. 

The tenth. 

And on, and on. 

Until you lost count. 

You’d wake up wrapped around him, like an octopus, really. And you would have felt ashamed if not for the fact that you’d learnt to know that Joel Miller was oh so lonely. 

You still didn’t talk, so he did it for the both of you, would put a cup of coffee in your hands and talk about Ellie - who didn’t want to see him anymore but he kept an eye out. There was that time he came back from patrol with a bunch of books about sign language and offered :

‘I know you write things when you wanna say somethin’, but maybe we could just- y’know, try this.’

———

You’re at the Bison when it happens. You’re with Maria and Tommy, and Joel’s a the bar getting a refill. You’re watching him - you’re always watching, as if he’ll disappear. And this woman, this really pretty woman, slides up to him and starts talking. And then she makes him laugh. And he stays there, for quite a while, drinks forgotten for a second, or a minute, or an eternity. 

You leave before he comes back. 

When he comes home you’re on the couch reading a book. You’re distracted as soon as he comes in, though, but you don’t get the chance to pretend because he sits right next to you, one arm around your shoulders, on arm on your waist, and he whispers :

‘Remember that day when you came home from the gardens with Theo ? Can you even imagine how mad I was ? ‘Cause I was. I want you be be mine but I never thought you’d want that.’ 

You nod, you nod so hard and you think you might cry- and you do cry, because then, Joel chases away a tear with his thumb and coos :

‘Baby, calm down. I’m yours, too.’ 

And for the first time in years you’re facing a man who will demand nothing but will ask what you want and who will, no matter how broken you are, treat you with patience and just- wait. 

You don’t want to wait. 

You nod again, get up and go to the bedroom. Joel follows, and then watches as un undress, slowly. He’s still as a statue, eyes wide. You’re naked, scars mapping your body on open display. You reach for him and it’s like he snaps, naked as you are before you even know it. You smile at him. 

———

You smile at his and it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing, precious beyond mesure. You smile at him and he wants to bury himself in the cracks of your ribs and keep you safe

Safe

Safe

He touches your breasts first, because he has thought about them, about how soft they would look and feel. And they are soft. He touches, nibbles, licks. He finds a home, right there, where your breasts meet your ribs- where you’re the softest. Or maybe it’s not just a home he finds, it’s a church : his nose full of your scent, his tongue heavy with the taste of your skin, he thinks maybe he has found God again. 

He’s afraid, though. Afraid to be too rough. You’ve left him notes about what happened to you, written in the quiet of the night. He knows. 

He knows. 

He says

‘If I could go back, I would take my time killin’ them. Limb by limb, baby.’

I know, you sign, and he gets up to kiss you, one hand on your jaw and one hand on your heart. 

———

Taglist

@pedritobalmando @amidjarin @ajeff855 @justpedropascal @sara-alonso @sarahjkl82-blog @amidjarin @sara-alonso@justpedropasc@mrsbentallmadge @farfromjustordinary @hnt-escape @kirsteng42

[l0verf0rever]

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐭?

Social Media! Au | Jude Bellingham x Reader

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Current

↳ To this post

Anonymous: How the hell is it a marketing strategy if they have had the relationship longer than her modeling career . 🤦‍♀️

Anonymous: I'm sad to see a girl trying to change herself for a guy she's super sweet when I met her :(

↳ Anonymous: She's super kind too but it's just sad tbh

↳Anonymous : don't get me wrong I bet Y/n is a nice girl but why is jude looking like a villain to this situation? Isn't friends with benefits 2 thing?.

Tap more to see comments 2.3k

June 30,

Right now its one of your stupid breaks with Him that last few weeks then He drunk dials he always wants to stop but you don't know

Is it even worth trying? "I miss the times when everything was normal before feelings complicated everything " having conversations with your sister

" pick someone who's decent not someone who's a dirt bag and just has every girl in he's finger tips "

it's been 1 week since he asked to stop for the time you've forgotten how many times you've gotten cool off trying impressing him it was just sad telling your friends and therapist they could tell you clearly love him but it's codependency

Nights where you lie awake, you block him, but then you feel bad and unblock you dream the day when he's sure he wants you

from trying to dress the way he likes high heels, trying to be everything he wants, or you think he wants . You just wish he could have a clear mind it's hurting you inside to know that

You just want to hate him but some reason you can't you've seen him in other relationships then block you out when it doesn't work he calls you

He's your only and first relationship. "You should try others guys if he's been with other girls and block you out block him too then," your friend says

"or you know stop this and be secure with being alone," your other friends suggested to you

July 1.

Everything felt like the end of the world. Everyone knew you and jude reading comments of people. Reading it makes you pity yourself, realizing it made it worse for months you didn't realize it nor think about it

"Be yourself and know that that's good enough Dont try to act like someone else, be yourself Be secure with yourself Rely and trust upon your own decisions" your friend reassures you that everything's gonna be fine

"They're are other people than him and when you're ready they'll appear don't rush it" you hated the fact you're a safety net for him the things you've done with him never thought you'd have to do with other people trying to accept that you have to move on and on to the next

Looking at pictures at night and crying cause he's spotted with another girl while you're in your room crying wondering why it got so messy to begin with you sometimes wish you never bothered to begin with.

Hi its me again I'm nervous about my work nowadays and I decided to make this new one I hope you guys appreciate it also should I make this a series?🤍 - Love mishaella

Hi updated the series is #Risque the story

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Among the main skeletons, who would be on the naughty list, and for what reason?

Undertale Sans - Asked to behave during a meeting with the Human President of Ebott, pranked the President with a whoopee cushion in front of the cameras of the entire world. Still didn't pick his sock this year, maybe the next one.

Undertale Papyrus - Repeated fires, intruded buildings he's not supposed to go to, sent his car flying on the roof of the police station, dug a gigantic hole in the park so Frisk could build a dirt castle, got arrested seventeen times, culinary crimes, stole candies because he saw a kid eat a Hello Kitty popsicle and got hyper-obsessed with it.

Underswap Sans - Bumped into his Karen neighbor's car a few times because she let her dog pooped in front of his door and he walked in it.

Underswap Papyrus - He never did anything wrong in his life. We won't talk about that time he stole an expensive figurine at Disneyland and felt so guilty about it he brought it the next day and got sick for an entire week because he felt like a horrible person.

Underfell Sans - He has an arrest warrant in 13 countries. He has no regrets about having them and thinks it's funny that he's banned from visiting all of these countries forever.

Underfell Papyrus - He has been a nice skeleton this week. And I'm not forced to say this because I have a knife in my ribs or anything. Nope. Really nice and perfect skeleton.

Horrortale Sans - Well, if he has be naughty, he can't remember it. How convenient is that? Willow might say that he can tell for him, but Oak simply ignores him. He has no proof anyway and you neither.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's been a good boy. Okay, maybe except that one time when he smashed tomatoes on the neighbor's windows because they were mean to him for no reason. But that was also the neighbor's fault.

Swapfell Sans - Scam, fiscal fraud, a few murders, a few murder attempts, locked his brother outside because he refused to take a bath, refused to take the President's hand because he doesn't like touching human skin, might have poison an annoying rival that was bothering him, intervened in Alphys and Undyne's wedding to say he disapproved the wedding just to piss Alphys off, fought with Alphys during her wedding and destroyed the wedding cake accidentally, has no regret for any of the things above.

Swapfell Papyrus - Violation of modesty, several times, photobombed official very important meetings and ended up being talked about more than the meeting, flips his birds to the Queen a few times, almost got executed for that, ate trash, had to go in quarantine because he adopted a raccoon with rabies and it bit him, got banned of all Disney parks around the world, pranked so many people he lost the count, might have stolen a car at some point, stole the keys of a McDonalds to cook all of their nuggets during the night, got sick for three days after eating all the nuggets, then got arrested for it and paid with his brother's money that he stole as well to get out, showed an Uno reverse card to a police officer who asked him his papers and won, stuck googly eyes on every piece of furniture in the house, emptied the city swimming pool because he was not authorized to fill his swimming pool, replaced his brother's coffee with paint and almost died for it, will gladly do everything above again next year.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Try a coup d'état on the crown, kidnapped Frisk for a few weeks just because he was bored and wanted to see how the King and the Queen react, stabbed the President of the United States because he said he shouldn't wear a dress if he's a man, escaped prison, got arrested, escaped prison again and won, make his brother's love interest disappear after he caught them cheating on him, stole a 3 million dollars painting because it was matching his interior decoration, bought and destroyed the orphanage in front of his house to have a better view.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He stole in the fridge at some point and he still feels guilty about it even though Wine never noticed it.

[ch4osm4ster]

Routine

Small friendly alien × reader scenario.

(Could be platonic, could be romantic. Romance is hinted at but I guess could be ignored?)

Made everything vague and neutral so anyone can imagine their own lil creature in it's place. Reader is human though and alien is around half the size of a human. No names mentioned. Reminder I am more experienced with drawing then writing so this isn't gonna be high level writing lol. I wrote this cuz I was tired of nobody else doing something with this type of vibe.

Summary:

After a whole day chatting you and your alien companion end up going to sleep under the stars, but instead of you being the bigger spoon like usually, they insist on being the bigger spoon instead.

Words: 1,160

Sitting on a patch of grass sat you, and a tiny creature you sometimes call a friend, sometimes a lover. While most humans would find the size difference awkward, you did not. And neither did your little companion.

You two had a pretty uneventful day, but did spend all your energy on talking about the differences between your world and theirs. And while it was fun, you could only talk for so long before you felt the need to rest engulf you both. It was getting late, thank goodness, so you both took this chance to enjoy the scenery and ambience of nature surrounding you.

It was peaceful.

Now, this is kind of a private matter, but you both had made up a routine whenever you hung out. You would talk for hours, and then when it was finally time for bed, a search for the perfect spot to sleep on was started, typically a patch of thick soft moss, or maybe a cave filled with life sized mushrooms. Then, after relaxing a bit, you two would inch closer to share body heat. And closer.

And closer.

Until one day it became cuddling.

That's your routine now, talk and then hold eachother gently to sleep. And in the morning you two would look for something to eat, provided by mother nature herself. You learned to always keep a lighter and something sharp with you wherever you go, just in case for these scenarios.

Now typically, since you're bigger then them, them being like half your size, you end up being the big spoon each time. Your arms always surrounding their whole body and keeping them close to you while you both dozed off to dreamland.

And you were ready to do so again, you laid down on your side and raised an arm, looking up expectantly.

"No, no," they waved their little finger back and forth while smirking. "Tonight I'M the big spoon."

"You? The big spoon? And how do you plan to do that huh?" You raised an eyebrow and them, but decided to sit up either way, curious where this was going.

"Don't worry, i got my ways," they said while puffing out their chest.

They crossed their legs and wiped off remaining specks of dirt and dust, wiggling their hips in place to get more comfortable, their cocky posture turning into something so unserious yet focused so fast you almost laughed. You looked on, grin getting wider but eyebrows knitting in confusion. Then, when they were ready, they looked at you like you looked at them earlier, expectant, and patted their lap, "your pillow, my humble human."

You couldnt help but chuckle, they seemed overly confident this was going to work and to be honest, the confidence was contagious. You slowly lowered your head onto their lap, facing away as this was a new situation and making eye contact right now was not on your to do list. After some wiggling arount for a comfortable position, checking if you weren’t too heavy for them, you let out a big sigh. This was indeed pretty comfortable, you almost wished this could've happened sooner which in turn made you wonder about the sudden change. You called out their name as a question, "so... what's the occasion?"

Their hand reached the top of your head, fingers slowly moving against your scalp, almost like a very slow petting motion you could only feel. "Occasion?" They asked.

"Yea, i mean, I'm not complaining. This is actually really nice. But it's diffrent from how we usually do this. Did you get tired of me snoring into your ear or something?" You joked, a light smirk appearing on your lips that they probably couldn't see but could hear.

"Whaat, i could never get tired of you snoring loudly into my ears while i sleep!" They joked back. "Nah, actually, I've been thinking-"

"You think? Oh my god i didnt know you could do that!"

That earned you a light smack on the back of your head, both of you erupting into laughs while you pushed your face deeper into their thighs to try and be more quiet. When you both finally calmed down, they put their hand back on your head.

"I've been thinking," they started again, giving you a skeptical look while trying not to laugh again. You looked up from your spot in their lap and shrugged, a silent sign you weren't gonna interupt again. "Ive been thinking about how unfair it is that you can hold me like that, and keep me warm, while i can't. And while i can't do the same, i figured I'd at least do something in return. Show you some love as well. Give some attention back."

"O-oh." You stammered, stunned. Guess you never thought about it that way, always focused on putting them first and trying to give them as much attention as you comfortably could.

"That's... really sweet of you," you managed to communicate. Your eyes, which were still looking at them, looking somewhere else as you smiled, a light dust of blush appearing onto your cheeks. Its not often you get to feel this way. So... small.

In a way, your roles really have switched. While they might be smaller physically, you are the one who now feels smaller, albeit emotionally.

"Is that a blush i see?" They pointed out.

You eyes widened as you were brought back into the present, blush dissappearing, thoughts no longer wandering to places themed around you little companion and their kindness.

"No it's not, humans don't blush," you lied blatantly and turned around so fast they couldn't have missed the fact you were lying.

They smiled gently and just looked at the part of you laying comfortably in their lap, hand returning to it's rightful place and ruffling your head before becoming almost stationary again. "Sure thing, whatever you say, i definitely believe you, uh-huh."

You both chuckled quietly, unable to hold back, atmosphere light and playfull as you started to calm down yet again. You yawned, which in turn made them yawn as well. It was interesting how you were different species and yet yawns were still contagious to eachother.

"Sleep time i guess," they said while stretching their arms and lowering themselves onto the ground. They were now laying on their back, your head on their stomach as to not disturb their breathing or crush any important anatomy you might not have.

"Yeah, sleep time," you whispered, already on the brink of falling asleep. Sharing these moments with them always made you fall asleep faster, sleep being a lil better then usual too.

You both bid your final goodnight's as the ambience of the nightly creatures surrounded you again, no longer overshadowed by your banter, and preparing you both for a night of good dreams...

And in the morning, you'll eat breakfast again, and probably do it all over again.

You wondered what tomorrow's topic will be...

[aziraphales-library]

Hey yall!! I have to say just how much I appreciate the blog and especially the tagspost (the one pinned, sorry, don’t know the right word), it has helped me find the best fics for me! I have gone through all of the warlock dowling fics, but was wondering if you had any more? Specifically any having to do with crowley being a mother-figure to warlock. Thank you again!!

Hello. We do have a plentiful #warlock downing tag. Here are more to add, a couple of newer and a couple of older fics...

Dear Hellspawn by Schlorzdottir (T)

After his nanny and the gardener abruptly leave, a confused and lonely Warlock finds a poem that Nanny wrote for him.

On a Sunday Afternoon by lazysundayafternoon (G)

Nanny and Warlock sometimes go on weekend outings to London. Once, they went to a very special bookshop.

Family by Association by otherhawk (G)

Warlock Dowling is over-dramatic, insecure and inclined towards running away, which makes sense since he was primarily raised by a certain over-dramatic demon. After the apocalypse Warlock heads home to England to find his nanny.

Raising Hell (Drops of Heaven) by Crystalshard

When Warlock's parents die, Aziraphale and Crowley step in to raise the kid on their own. It takes several childhood incidents, a birthday party, and a near-Apocalypse before Warlock finds out exactly what his fathers are. (They're a family. He knew that all along.)

When the World Needed Her Most, Nanny Ashtoreth Returned by yetrop (T)

Crowley didn’t bother explaining any further, instead placing his head back in his hands. “I don’t even know why I’m saying anything nice about him. I’m not supposed to be nice. Besides, I should be focusing on everything else he’s got wrong with him, and trust me, there’s a lot.” “Like what?” asked Warlock, who suddenly seemed interested in the conversation again now that he knew he could get some dirt on kind old Brother Francis. “Well, he’s always living in the past, for one. And furthermore, he’s naive, and petty, and he can be so obnoxiously pretentious, and…” Crowley’s voice trailed off, looking for more negative qualities, but only finding one agonizing truth. “...And I miss him so much that it physically hurts.” — The last person Crowley expects to run into a few months after his fight with Aziraphale is Warlock. Luckily for him, Warlock is an expert at helping people through breakups (according to Warlock, that is).

A Shepherd’s Crook by angelwithawand (T)

For the first time, Crowley realizes that he doesn’t have a couch in his Mayfair flat. Naturally, this fact sends him into an existential crisis. Naturally, this existential crisis ends with him adopting a child.

- Mod D

[leggerefiore]

Population Growing!

cw: fluff, feelings realisation

pairing: Tom Nook/Reader

my first proper fic in a while... a

The train moved along the rails at a comforting speed as you watched the landscape pass by from the window. Finally, you had found yourself able to move into a new town far from the one that you had grown up in. It was a daunting task as much as it was exciting. The place was a bit far out from any major city, but you figured that would give it a certain rustic charm that could prove a pleasant change. Everything felt a little less frightening when you thought of it that way as well. Few other passengers had caught a ride on the train. Really, the car you sat in was mostly empty, barring an old, napping sow.

It was just you and the world.

Until, the door of the car slid open, and a blue and white cat walked in and looked around before spotting you. His red eyes went wide as he waved at you and approached. You perhaps would have felt a bit nervous, but he seemed relatively normal, if not a tad too amicable. “Uh… Excuse me… Do you have a second?” he asked. You gave a nod in reply. He then asked you the date and time to which you gave an answer. His smile was stagnant as he nodded this time and seemingly corrected a wristwatch. Then, he glanced back up at you. “Do you mind if I sit across from you? I promise that I won't fall asleep and start drooling on you!”

With your permission, he down on the seat and glanced out the window for a moment. Then, his attention landed back on you. “Thanks again! It sure is nice meeting friendly folks on the train… You aren't some dangerous criminal, are you?” his lips curled back into a playful expression, “Just kidding!” You gave a slight laugh. It seemed that he really just wanted to talk to someone. The conversation continued with him giving you his name and asking for your own, asking about where you were going and why, and then where you were moving to. Though, his shock was plain on his face when you replied that you had no idea. At first, he tried to laugh it off as you messing with him, but he soon realised that you were not joking.

“WHAT?!” his voice actually raised in shock, “You can't just show up with no place to live-! Oh, duh! A friend of mine runs a shop there. Let me give him a ring and see if he has anything.” The cat gave another look at you as he got up and walked away to step outside the train car for a moment. You watched him pick up his cellphone and make a call out. Listening as best you could on the quiet train, you heard him speaking to someone. A name, Nook, stood out to you. You heard him mention your situation and name to the person on the other end of the line. Part of you did feel a bit worried about this being some kind of situation, but Rover had seemed genuine enough.

Soon, the call came to an end, and he returned to his seat across from you with a comforting smile. “Right, so my friend has some places. Dirt cheap, actually,” he reassured you, “Apparently, he was having some trouble renting him so he is willing to unload them at a loss.” His red eyes met yours. “You have money, right?” he tilted his head. You nodded, not really thinking much of the situation. “Then you'll be fine!” his smile became that amicable one again, “Oh, look!” His attention shifted to the window. “We're pulling in right now!”

Your heart raced as you saw the station's imminent approach. Soon, the train had come to a stop, and the cat waved a goodbye to you as you departed. The cool crisp air of autumn greeted you as the browning scenery of a small town met your eyes. You stepped down from the platform, wondering where you should go when you heard someone shout out. “Excuse me! Hey, hey! Hey, you there — Yes, you!” Your attention went in the direction of the voice, spotting a tanuki rushing over towards the station. He panted when he saw he had your attention and came to stop to regain his breath for a moment. You tilted your head. He rose up his head and asked your name, which you gave.

“Good, good! I just had a phone call about you, hm?” he let out a breath, “Whew, I'm glad I made it in time to meet your train. I'm afraid I'm not in the best shape of my life…” He shook his head. “But, I ramble. My name is Tom Nook. I, uh, run the store here in town.” A look over was given to you as he remarked on your interesting decision to move to a town before deciding on a place to move into, even giving a laugh at the absurdity of the thought to him. You finally supposed that it might not have been the best idea, admittedly. With that, he assured you that he had a few homes that were ready for someone to move into and had you follow him down a path to where four homes stood.

All were a quaint size, but it seemed that it was not irrational for the price it likely was to be. He offered you to peer into any of them to get a feel for whichever you liked. Taking him up on his offer, you headed inside the closest to your right. Nook warned you that the home would be quite “cosy” to which you opted to ignore. Inside, you were greeted by a small space with some dingy wallpaper and flooring. A tape deck sitting on the floor and a box with a journal on top of it sat in the far corners of the room. You let out a sigh. What was this? You supposed this is a bit of what you deserved for making a hasty decision with little forethought. Heading out, you found Nook waiting for you by the door.

He confirmed that it was the one you liked and proclaimed the home to be yours at your second agreement. The tape deck was even provided to you for free. Though, you did hear him mumble under his breath about it not selling in his shop. Assurance about the lack of furniture being a you problem was made clear and a simple explanation about getting some ideas on how to decorate by visiting your neighbours was given. Then, finally, the chatter ended, “And… That brings your closing costs to 19,800 bells!” He nodded. You felt yourself grow a bit nervous. Reaching into your pocket, you offered what you had inside.

At first, he accepted the bag with little worry, but when he opened it, sweat began to pour from him. “That is not nearly enough!” he fretted, “This must be a joke, yes? You cannot only have 1000 bells! You know what happens to those who don't have money, don't you? They can't buy a house!” For a moment, he seemed deep in thought before shaking his head. “... You still need a place to stay, don't you? Hmm… A thorny situation. Yes. Rather thorny…” You felt yourself panicking internally. Really, what had you been thinking? His lidded eyes glanced at you as you shrunk into yourself. “… Then here's what we'll do! You can work part-time at my shop to pay off the rest! Yes, that's acceptable.” You perked up a bit. An agreement was made for you to settle in for a moment then to meet him at his shop to discuss things further.

Thus, you truly began your life in your new town.

Nook proved to be a bit of an ass as a boss, handing you a uniform and giving you some basic tasks to do. One of which had you planting flowers and saplings… To only be paid 80 bells. Deliveries were another one, but they were not so bad. Through your work, you ended up meeting plenty of your neighbours and finding yourself with some budding friendships. Of course, just when you felt decidedly comfortable to keep working away at your newfound debt at the job, Nook informed you that he had nothing left for you to do. You wanted to stand a-gasp at the shopkeeper, but he informed you that you had a good idea now of how to get out there on your own to pay it off.

Though, you supposed it was not so hard. Finding assorted things to sell to Nook and slowly chipping away at the bill was manageable. Various neighbours also dumped items off on you for doing odd jobs that you often sold when you felt uninterested in it. Not to mention capturing fish and bugs — Granted, you still frequently ended up giving the first one of whatever you caught to the museum curator. That poor owl often jumping away as you stood directly in front of him. Fossils were also fun, though having to mail them off made the excitement rise and fall. It had not been long until the autumn days shifted into the first snow of the season.

Winter had come, and you found yourself approaching Nook's shop. The small shack of a shop had changed into something more of a convenience store due to the increased needs of the town, supposedly. As you approached, something made you stop in your tracks. Two little tanuki were playing just outside of the shop, rolling up a snow ball together. You could not recall having seen them before. Did Nook have children? He certainly had not mentioned it. Perhaps they were visiting relatives? But, was this not his home town? Sable of the Able Sisters had certainly told you it was. The two seemed to catch sight of you and lose interest in their snow ball. Running up to you, they both stood up at with big, round eyes. The resemblance was certainly uncanny.

“Hello, hello,” the two spoke in sync, catching you off-guard, “Can you help us… us?” One of the two trailed just behind at the end. You blinked. Well, maybe getting a new axe could wait. Nodding, you helped them roll the snow ball on top of another to make a snowman. A few decorations were added to dress it up as they cheered happily at the sight. You felt a bit strange gazing at the two kids. They glanced back at you. “Thank you… you!” their voices were so genuine and sweet. You could not help but smile in return and reassure them it was no problem. They continued to play around the snowman as you slipped away into the store, seeing the tanuki lazing behind his register for a moment.

Maybe it was a slow day. He instantly perked up at seeing you, switching into his customer service mode. You obtained the axe that you were after but stopped as you were heading out of the store. A question about the two kids outside hung in the air. He was shocked for a moment before letting his guard drop. “… Those two? They are my apprentices, hm?” he replied simply. You blinked. What did… that even mean? Apprentices? He sighed. “No, they are not my children,” he said simply, “… Sometimes I just need extra hands when working.” For some reason, you doubted that. But, there was no need to protest his words, so you nodded. Whatever he wanted to call it, you supposed. Heading out, you waved by to the kids who waved back at you.

Slowly, you found yourself spotting more and more of the little tanuki - Timmy and Tommy as they had introduced themselves. It seemed that they were truly apprentices of the older tanuki, referring to him solely as Mr. Nook. They claimed to be learning how to run a store from him, but you listened to plenty of stories from both that seemed to paint a more familial situation at play. Maybe it was simply some cultural thing that you did not understand, so you simply kept it to yourself. The two were occasionally pulled away from their studies for a break from their dear mentor, which led to you often playing with them between your tasks. They had watched in excitement as you reeled in fish from the river or caught a few bugs to show them. Sometimes, you even unconsciously ended up gifting them something that you obtained, watching their eyes light up brightly at it.

Whatever odd home situation they had, they were truly just kids. Though, it had become a bit more frequent you brought them back to the store after your hang-outs with them. Nook simply watched as you walked them to the door, mostly giving a nod or a polite thank you for watching over them. You had taken to just shrugging. Really, you did not mind. It was a nice way pass around a less eventful day. Though, Nook seemed to soften up a bit towards you, ending the awkward retail worker-landlord relationship that you had.

Entering his store, you sighed as you looked over the furniture selections he had that day. Nothing to suit what theme you had begun to decorate your home with. He caught your sigh and tilted his head. “Do you want something in particular?” You shook your head. It just seemed hard to decide these days. “... I'd be willing to order ahead for you if you did,” his voice was a bit quieter, as if this were some secret, “I do appreciate your patronage… And help.” You glanced at him. That last past had barely been audible. Help… Did he feel as if he owed you a bit for hanging out with the twins? You wondered. Smiling at him, you simply shook your head. It was something that you could only pick out when you looked at it. And, well, having an excuse to pop by the store for a visit was never a bad thing. The boys certainly liked to pop out from the connected family living unit to see you.

“Well, if you ever do, the offer remains up in the air,” Nook nodded. Then, you heard your name shouted as two fluffy forms rushed towards you. They dragged you away towards the door to have you play hide and seek with them outside.

As you went, a small smile crossed Nook's usually unreadable countenance.

Somehow, you ended up in a strange market tent that had come to town. A neighbour had told you the supposedly super secret password to get in, and you ended up having to instantly dump 3000 bells just to shop. Though, you found yourself a bit suspicious of the owner. The fox was up-front with a penchant for calling you cousin. Supposedly, you were getting a discount on account of being “like family.” Granted, you recognised one of the items he had on display as one that you had seen in Nook's shop. The price, however, was a fair bit higher. As much as you wanted to believe the tanuki would cut you a deal, you doubted it. While that should have truly deterred you from purchasing anything, you felt drawn in by the painting for sale.

Really, seeing the Mona Lisa should have been your first red flag, but you still purchased it. The fox assured you that you would not regret it as you stepped out of the tent with your purchase. Knowing that Blathers would simply love an addition for the art section of the museum, you brought it in to him. However, you stomach soon dropped as he recoiled in shock. “Upon a closer look, I must inform you that this is a vile, shameless forgery!” he looked offended that you would even offer him such a thing as he handed it back to you. However, when he saw your expression, he became a bit more sympathetic. Shaking his head, he lightly chided you for buying from such a shady seller and reassured you that it could happen to anyone.

With that, you found yourself trailing towards the dump to toss the fake. Though, you caught a familiar figure as you dropped the item to be taken away. Nook stood there, seemingly offloading a few boxes from his stocking. He blinked at you, having noticed your gloomy state. “What happened, hm?” his voice was gentle. You felt your frustration come rushing out as you ranted to the tanuki about what had happened. He nodded at your words before letting out a sigh. “I see… That does sound about right,” he patted your shoulder reassuringly, “There, there. Foxes should never be trusted, yes, yes. Let this be a hard lesson learnt.” You sighed again. His eyes darted away for a moment.

“Why don't you join the boys and I for dinner,” Nook offered, “It might be a nice change of pace, hm? They have been asking for you today, anyways.”

You felt a bit better at the thought of seeing the twins. At least, they were too cute to let you keep stewing in your frustration. The tanuki led you away to his store for a nice evening in with the strange family.

Though, admittedly, you did not learn your lesson and kept shopping from the fox. Redd did seem to have some legitimate paintings, after all. That, and, well, you did find him a bit funny to see in action.

Another upgrade to the store had come, giving the shopkeeper shorter hours. Though, there had been an unfortunate incident where you had needed something late at night after the store closed. Needless to say, no matter how close you had become to the tanuki, he was not happy to open his doors at two in the morning to you. Still, he sold you the shovel you needed, albeit at a price hike. As you headed out to return to your plans, you heard him scold you for being up and out so late.

The next day, he had insisted that you needed to work on your sleeping schedule, lest you cause him to worry about what you were doing in the middle of the night with a dire need for a shovel. Apparently planting some new fruit trees was not a reassuring answer. He did appear to be over it, however. Especially when the twins popped out and dragged you into the home unit to show you some new show they were into. He simply could only roll his eyes in reply. Your visits to the store had mostly become social ones, but he never had the heart to complain. Your presence had become an expected thing, in truth. It would feel odd for both of you if you had shown up less.

It was during one of these visits, that you found yourself sitting with him during a slow period in the store. His customer service front had been entirely dropped around you. The landlord half had completely vanished with your last payment on your loan, too. Really, you had just become two people. Perhaps, well, you were friends. That was not something either of you spoke aloud, but it was something understood. You watched his “apprentices” and often ended up sharing meals with them nowadays. There even had been a few times you slept over. Though, those were extremely uncommon even still. Toy Day had been spent with the tanuki, having enjoyed watching just how happy the twins become at the gifts you got for them. New Years had also been spent over…

Your head somehow ended up on Nook's shoulder as you remained lost in thought. He did not react nor did he attempt to move you. The two of you just sat like that for a moment. Snow had begun to pile up outside again. You knew he would likely be on his feet to clear a path if it became too much, but for now, he was unmoving. Your eyes felt heavy. Though, you startled awake when a customer entered the store, and Nook got up to greet and tend to them. You found yourself missing his warmth.

During his time off, you both found yourselves at the Roost. You sat at table together, simply enjoying the ambience of the café while a musician played at the stage. Nook seemed entranced by the dog. You giggled at his clear interest. This brought his attention back to you. He blinked. “… What?” he questioned. Your reply made him appear bashful. He scratched the back of his head while his fluffy tail stood on alert. “Ah, well, I'm quite a fan of him, yes, yes,” Nook admitted, “It's very fortunate he was playing during this time…” You nodded. He had another sip of his coffee and stared at you. “… I genuinely wish to thank you for watching over the twins so often,” he started. You reassured him that it was nothing, but he shook his head.

“Ah, no, see, I am finally able to upgrade my store once more, hm?” he explained. You listened in. It was unsurprising. People even came from out of town to shop there, but everyone in town certainly did. His store really was a centrepiece of the local economy. “I plan on having Timmy and Tommy tend to the second story,” his words shocked you, “… I wish to do more hands-on training with them. I cannot have my apprentices under-trained.” You wanted to roll your eyes. Really, the twins had basically been begging to help more. Though, it did make you sad that there would be less time to spend with them. Nook caught on to that quickly.

“… You are still free to join us at any time,” he reminded you, “They would be far too sad if you stopped showing up.” You let out a relieved breath. His hand grasped your own. “… And, I, too, quite enjoy your company.” Your cheeks burned at his words. His attention drifted back to the musician while your heart raced in your chest.

It was natural change that followed.

Really, it had already been basically what you two shared even it was unspoken. The twins had been put to bed in their room while you sat with Tom in the family room. His arm was around your shoulders as you both watched some old show that he had insisted was good. You rested your head on his shoulder once more. A few times, you had dozed off. Eventually, you heard the television cut off. “Ready for bed?” he asked. You nodded and let him lead you to his room. Somehow, you both had just settled into a routine. Nothing needed to established aloud as it was simply understood. You nuzzled into him as the cover came over you both. His arm secured you into place. Soon, you were drifting off again. A gentle kiss was pecked to your head. A declaration of your feelings was said sleepily.

“I love you, too,” was Tom's reply as you both finally gave in to sleep.

[lethargicmouse]

tell us your favorites everlark fics

Thanks for the ask!! They make me very excited lol. I honestly don’t read a lot of everlark lol, I’m more of a hayeffie fan with a side of everlark. Just becuase I feel like mother Suzanne did a good job with them in the books. But truly, a lot of my fav hayeffie ships are from either Peeta or Katniss’ perspective.

The ones listed here are mostly post epilogue (:

( I lied they are all post epilogue.)

this is the first day of my life by sam_writes_fics @sam-loves-seb ----> "It’s not perfect. None of them are perfect. But that’s not the point. // katniss and peeta and haymitch and effie and their life after everything;" I LOVE THIS IT WAS GOOD

You Are in Love (Everlark's Version) by bored_author ---> "A collection of one-shots about Katniss and Peeta working through their traumas, together." This is probably the most everlark one on here. It was cute

The Team Trap by EllanaSan @ellainthetardis (my queen omg) ---> "'What’s the very good reason that’ll get her to come?/ Katniss asked. Peeta was silent for a moment, his hand stilled on her back. 'It involves a technical white lie.' In her experience, lies were hardly ever technical or white." I love EllanaSan with my entire heart.

End of the World by FernWithy ---> Ok this is a very Haymitch centered series but it literally rocked my world and I think everyone needs to read this. There is some awesome POV's of characters you rarely hear from. Delly gets the spotlight she deserves and Peets gets it, too. It's a wonderful, long read that I'd highly reccomend.

Sorry there isn't more! I have lots of other fics that I really enjoy that are from Peeta or Katniss' view that are just more Hayeffie centric (linked under the line (: ), I tried to pull the more Everlark ones for you !

they got no idea (about me and you) by fckingpoetry ---> "peeta looks for advice on how to keep katniss safe in the arena and walks in on haymitch and effie sleeping in the same bed." I cannot stress how much I love this author. And any fic where the kids find out about Effie and Haymitch makes me giggle.

The Clue in the Yoghurt by EllanaSan ---> "In retrospect, Haymitch should have known something was up the morning he walked into his kitchen, rubbing his face to chase the remnants of sleep, and found Katniss pilfering his fridge." So silly, Katniss accidental pregnancy and it makes me smile to see hayeffie acting like the parents they are.

Sprinkled on Your Life by KarlyBING ---> "With all her silliness, shallowness, and overbearing ways, Effie had still cried while holding her after coming back from the arena, she was the one to publicly unite them during the Quell, cared for her during a war, braided her hair when she was too depressed to do it herself, made her wedding dress out of worn cotton shirts and second-hand wool, held her hands after delivering her first child, changed diapers at 3 am so Peeta and her could sleep a couple more hours, taught her children how to say please and thank you, and still made her hot chocolate every rainy day without even having to ask." I cried. So much. For only 1,801 words. A nice look at mama!Effie and darling Katniss.

that which resembles a grave (but isn't) by ifonlyiwasawriter ---> "Haymitch finds Katniss covered in dirt in his backyard; there is an explanation for this, but not one that either of them likes." Haymitch and Katniss, lovely very traumatized father and very traumatized daughter bonding.

Any way I love Haymitch and Effie goodnight !