#he finally has a little brother and he is using it

[yuujispinkhair]

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. 1k words. Minors don't interact.

I wrote this drabble for New Year's Eve but forgot to post it lol. I just found it again and decided to share it now. I hope you can still feel the magic of a New Year's Eve kiss with Kuna even when it's already April ;) Divider @/.chilumitos

Sukuna kisses you for the first time on the rooftop of his dorm on New Year's Eve.

He's had his eyes on you for a while but never acted on it because you are his little brother's friend, and Sukuna knew he would get into trouble with the brat if he fucked you. So he kept his hands to himself.

Yeah, sure, Sukuna flirted with you anytime he ran into you during the last few months when you were over at his dorm to visit his brother. But that's just the way Sukuna is: always smirking and always saying something suggestive. Most of the time, he doesn't even mean it. But with you, it's different.

Sukuna likes how you laugh about the shit he says and how you flirt back, just as playful as he is. And damn, he likes how you ask him seemingly genuine questions about his nerdy little hobbies, like reading history books and collecting Heian-era documentaries, something that most other people never seem to ask him about.

And somehow, at some point during the last few months, Sukuna actually started to look forward to seeing you. And somehow, he lost interest in fucking someone new every other night. It even got to a point where his brother asked him if he was sick because there were no new hickeys on Sukuna's neck. And somehow, Sukuna didn't even flirt with others anymore, but saved all his charm only for you.

Two months ago, Sukuna finally realized he had a problem because all he could think about was you.

It's crazy. He never intended to like you that much. And it's not just crazy, but also scary because Sukuna isn't used to feeling these kinds of things. It makes him feel so... vulnerable. As if he could lose something he doesn't even have yet. As if he could truly get hurt.

Plus, you are such a good girl, so kind and sweet, and Sukuna is that troublemaking bad boy, and he low-key feared he wouldn't be good for you. So he held himself back all this time.

But now it's a few seconds before midnight on New Year's Eve, and you are standing before Sukuna, looking so pretty in your red glittery dress as you look at the night sky, excited for the fireworks. And fuck it, Sukuna doesn't want to hold back anymore.

Especially not when he sees that white-haired Gojo brat standing next to you, watching you over the rim of those stupid sunglasses that he even wears at night while slowly leaning closer, apparently trying to get lucky and steal a kiss when the clock strikes midnight.

Sukuna has to do something. He takes a step closer to you, bumping into your back, and you look over your shoulder, eyes becoming big when you see who it is, and for a moment, Sukuna feels a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach that almost makes him turn around again and run.

But then you smile warmly at him and say his name, or at least that's what Sukuna can read off your lips because the crowd around you starts to cheer loudly at that moment, starting the countdown to the New Year, swallowing your words.

But it's enough for Sukuna, and he smirks at you, reaching out to wrap his muscular arms around you from behind and lean down to murmur into your ear, "Happy New Year, princess. I bet you've been wishing for me to be your New Year's kiss, huh?"

He sounds playful and confident, but his pulse is racing and his chest feels too tight. Sukuna realizes he is nervous. Big bad Sukuna, who is never nervous, but somehow standing behind you a few seconds before the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, with his arms loosely wrapped around you and his low voice saying things he wishes were actually true, is making him feel outright scared.

Sukuna doesn't even know, though, if he is scared that you will push him away, or if he is more scared that you will let him kiss you and make him fall even more for you.

You laugh, turning around in Sukuna's arms, tilting your head to look up at him, wishing him a Happy New Year, too, looking a bit sheepish and shy as you tentatively wrap your arms around Sukuna, too.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, your lips parted slightly, your breath coming out in little puffs in the chilly air as you look at Sukuna, a bit nervous but also hopeful. As if you are starting to believe in New Year's wishes coming true.

Sukuna is the one who brushes his lips over yours first. It's a tentative and gentle kiss, something that surprises him because he usually isn't like that. But it feels right to be this gentle with you.

You don't push him away, but instead sigh and kiss him back, your hands clinging tightly to Sukuna's hoodie, as if you are scared he will leave again. But Sukuna doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon. Not when your lips feel so good against his. Not when he has been thinking about this for months.

The kiss is much too long for a Happy New Year kiss. You miss the whole fireworks, but neither of you cares, and you just keep kissing as if you are drunk on each other's lips.

Sukuna groans softly when he pushes his tongue into your warm mouth, and you lick it slowly, playing with his tongue piercing while your smaller body presses tightly against him. Sukuna cups your jaw with one of his large tattooed hands, his thumb absentmindedly caressing your cheek, lost in your kiss, in your sweetness, much better than any drug he ever tried.

And you are on your tiptoes, leaning against Sukuna, kissing him back eagerly, clearly as lost in him as he is in you. Your hands slip under Sukuna's hoodie, maybe just to warm your cold hands, or maybe because you need him even closer, just like he needs you.

You caress his skin right where his tattoos are, making Sukuna grin into the kiss because he knows all those times he decided to walk shirtless into the living room while you were over visiting Yuuji paid off. You seem to know exactly where his tats are. You probably have been craving to trace them with your fingers for months. Just like Sukuna has been craving to wrap you in his arms and trace your soft lips with his tongue.

Well, how lucky you are because Sukuna plans to let you explore every single one of his tattoos in the New Year. And how lucky Sukuna is because he is kissing the only girl he ever wanted to make his girlfriend.

Sukuna smiles against your lips. He knows exactly what his New Year's resolution is.

I NEED HIM 😭😭 Writing this made me swoon and sigh and YEARN like crazy. I am happy I found this drabble again! I hope you enjoyed it even though New Year's Eve is far away.

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

[dilf-docs]

From This Time, Unchained

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel doesn't know why, of all the people in jackson, you've chosen him.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), BIG age gap (20s/60s) (does it look like igaf), smut, begging kink, praise kink, oral (f. receiving), breast play, dacryphilia, hurt/comfort, soft!joel, insecure!joel, fluff bc my dying man deserves it💔 #joelmillerapologistclub

word count: 8,554 words

side note: joel miller widow club where u at??? i wish i could write a fix-it fic but my heart is too heavy even after a week lol and my ass too people pleaser-ish to write allat. (i haven't seen last night's ep yet bc this weekend has been ass!!) so, instead, have this piece because peepaw deserves love and a good fuck with his glasses on! (shout out to my joel miller playlist, u saved me girl) (also girl why did i battle with this like for four days lmaoooo not me posting it 9 seconds before midnight)

Joel Miller is a busy man.

All of Jackson seems to need him. Be it his neighbours, with a broken faucet or be the council, for his skills in construction, or even Maria and Tommy, when they wanted some time alone and he got to be the fun uncle for a couple of hours. Even Ellie, who didn't need him, as she liked to remind him, yet he still found himself in her garage, where she moved despite his reluctance, dusting off shelves or the forgotten guitar in a corner, all to feel useful for the one who he cared for the most.

That spot was debatable, thought. There was his brother, his niece, maybe Maria, Ellie, recently Dina and well, you.

You. Sweet you. Town's favorite girl. A complete dream. The girl next door embodied. Looks that aim to kill. It killed him. So damn perfect he can't help but wonder why, of all Jackson, you'd choose brooding old Joel Miller.

The one you'd give your smiles to, because even if you shared it to the world, your reserved your best for him only. His patrol partner, the beauty of the snowed-in landscape barely rivaling your own. Who you'd give your hours, always appearing when he needed you most, eyes open wide with that shine of theirs it was impossible to resist, not to trust. He had been a faithless man for too long, wandering in the dark. Eyes closed. Then came Ellie, and it was gone, coming back the days when Sarah was his babygirl. But it returned when she pushed him away, but you had stepped in, not as a replacement but as an oath. Something to hold on.

To believe.

In anything. In you. In the us, silent but strong. Watchful, like the stars shinning above in the sky, twinkling as the sound of your laugh when you and him would watch them, sitting on his roof. He let this things happen, let his guard down and allowed himself to be childish and soft, even if his joints ached when he got up and he could fall. But you were there, and falling... It didn't sound bad.

(He knew you'd be there to catch him, anyway. Even if you weren't that strong and he wasn't exactly... well, featherweight)

Right now, he's working. Not for Jackson, but or you. Furrowed brow and shoulders slumped over his table at the workshop, concentrated, his glasses perched on his nose. He hates them, another reminder of the time passed by, yet there's no option. At least not if he wants to give you the very best.

Ah, yes. His latest project. A little wood carving. Doesn't have a shape yet, like your relationship. He chuckles to himself, feeling silly. What where labels anymore in this world, anyway? Still, he can't fanthom the nature of it. It sounded more like a perverted old man's fantasy, if he's being honest, the glances thrown his way from townsfolk a little cruel reminder. You're no good, you'd jokingly sing that one song and, despite the judgment, he'd smile. For you, anything.

Like the figurine. Joel finally sees it take shape. And then there's a knock in the door. Sharp. Same as yesterday, and as the year before ever since he's had you like this.

"Come in" he says, not looking up as you enter.

He's too focused, voice sounding gruff for the long hours of silence since he sat down with an idea in mind; pounding heart, trembling hands.

"Hey, Joel"

He takes his glasses off, placing them on the table, before standing up to greet you. He crosses the short distance and wraps his arms around you in a tender hug, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He smells like wood and sweat. His musk lingers, so does his tight embrace. As if you'd dissappear if he didn't.

"Missed ya', sweet girl" he mumbles, voice muffled.

You giggle a bit. "I was gone for an hour. Are you getting clingy on me, Miller?"

You loved to tease him. Bad habit of yours. He lets out a low chuckle that rumbles on his chest and against your skin. He pulls back from the hug, yet his arms now drop to your waist, because he's addicted to keeping you close.

"Too damn long" he protests, carrying his southern accent within.

"I love when that Texan drawl slips in" you sigh, poking his cheek. He leans into your touch, like a touch-starved puppy. You then look at him, pouting your lips with a small frown. "Hey, and your glasses?"

"Huh?" he looks at the pair, sitting on the table. Forgotten. "Over'ere. For?"

You shrug. Joel shoots you a suspicious look. "Darlin', why you so interested in my glasses?"

You avert his gaze. The floor is more interesting now.

"Honey... Look at me. S'okay if you don't wanna-"

"I like how you look when you wear them" you finally blurt out, too fast and too quiet.

He's taken back by that. Eyes wide, probably written all over his face. Yet you refuse to look at him. He tips your chin up, so you can meet his gaze. It's soft, making your legs wobbly.

"Is that so?" he asks, teasingly. He still can't believe you actually like them. "You like when old men wear them glasses, baby?"

"Hhm, yeah" you hum. "More if it's you"

His heart skips a beat at your response. Fuck. He's gone soft, too soft. He feels his face heat up, chuckling in an attempt to cover it. Then, runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the base of his neck, a tell-tale sign he's feeling awkward. Flustered, even.

"You gon' give me a heart attack, honey. 'M too old for ya' to say things like that"

"Aw, old man can't take a compliment?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. Then, you stand up on your tiptoes to whisper on his ear. "You're cute when you blush"

Joel's sure his face has gone redder, breath hitching as well. Still, he manages to put his arms around your waist, holding you close.

"You're real bad" he grumbles, though there's no bite on his tone. He hides his face again in the crook of your neck. "And I'm not blushing"

You giggle, patting his head lightly as your fingers trace his now long hair. If it didn't drive you wild...

"Then stop hiding"

Joel relaxes under your touch. "You're trouble. I'm serious 'bout the heart attack"

"No" you exaggerate, rocking him slightly. "Don't die"

He looks up at you, smirking as he groans with fake annoyance.

"If you keep that up, I might do"

"Then who will I bore with my failed recipes and gossip?"

"Thankfully, not me"

You groan. "Oh, shut up you old man"

You're always calling him that. Not that he minds, he knows you're not doing it with malice, but sometimes it annoys him. For example, today.

"Well, you chose 'tis old man so don't go complainin', honey"

You huff. "Unfortunately, I love this old man with his old-man ways. Like your woodcarving"

After saying so, you take a small peek over his figure, still drapped over your chest and neck, to the table behind. "Speaking of, can I see what you're doing?"

He looks back, where he's left the figurine unnattended after your arrival. Lets go of you, taking a step back so you get a better look.

"Sure, darlin'. Go'head"

Joel thinks he's good at hiding the nervousness in his voice as you approach the table. He crosses and uncrosses his arms, anxiously.

"Your glasses" almost in a reflex, passing them to him before seeing what's on the table. "Can you wear them, Joel? Pretty please"

He takes the glasses from your hands, fingers brushing. It may be that or your request that make his heart jump. You can see some hesitation on him before he puts them on. Looking down at you, smirking, Joel smiles.

"There ya' go, sweet girl. Happy now?" he asks, a hint of huskiness in his voice.

"So much better" you tap them lightly, "and so is your vision"

Joel let's out a small chuckle, grinning like a fool. Honestly, he loves the attention.

(He's never going to admit it out loud, though)

"You do know how'da flatter an old man, huh"

You smirk, moving to the table again. "Oh, I love flattering him. Now, show me what you're working on"

There's a block of wood on the center. Cut sharp. Perfectly. He's been obssesive with it, maybe. There's a sketch, and the figurine only has been carved at the bottom, where a tail begins to take shape.

"I know am not an artist, but I tried"

You remain silent, making him a little nervous.

"S'a deer" he explains, gruffly, looking into your eyes for a reaction.

"A deer? Like, Bambi?" you ask in awe, softly tracing the wood. Your words get stuck, like honey. Sweet but sticky. "Joel..."

His heart swells a bit at your tone, expression soft as he recognizes admiration in your tone.

"Yeah, like damn Bambi" he murmurs, hands itchy. First, he shoves them on his pockets, just to take them out and place them on his hips instead, his jacket now open, the silhoutte of his tummy under his shirt showing, the flannel stretched on the middle. He watches you closel as you face him again.

"Is it- Is it for me?" you ask in that voice that, goddamn it, makes Joel want to give you the whole world if he could.

He slowly nods, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Yeah" he admits, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "S' for ya"

Then looks away, feeling vulnerable for some reason. But your lips quiver, and before he can register, you throw yourself at him, hands around his neck, body practically swinging. He stumbles a bit, yet manages to catch you alright.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you gush, peppering his cheek with kisses. "I know it's not even done but, wow. Thank you, Joel!" an adorable squeal leaves your mouth, and as soon as that is out, your lips find his to leave a sweet kiss on his mouth. When you calm down, your voice goes soft. "It's... No one had ever done something like this for me"

He's clearly taken by surprise by your affection outburst, his heart swelling at your reaction and giddyness. He's also a bit overwhelmed, kissed cheeks now a pretty flushed pink. There's something so warm and fond on his eyes as he looks down on you, cupping your cheek after your final kiss.

"S'nothin', sweet girl. You're welcome"

"You're so special, Joel. Did you know that?" you whisper, leaning into his touch while closing your eyes.

Good. He's probably a mess right now, his heart clenching on his chest, a mix of emotions washing over him. God, he hates getting compliments, but yours always stirred things he long ago thought dead.

"Special, huh?" he grumbles while sporting a half-smile. "I reckon that's you"

You smirk. "We can both be special, then. There's always room for two"

He runs his thumb over your cheek, chuckling a bit. "Deal. But you're a bit more"

"Oh, you want to compete?" you tease.

He smirks at the challenge, pulling you closer with a tight arm around your waist.

"Damn right I do. Y'know I like winnin'. 'Sides, 'm more than willin' to play if it means ya' get competitive 's well. You're cute when you challenge me, baby"

You feign hurt. "I'm always cute, how dare you"

"Oh, forgive me" he chuckles. "At this age I tend to forget"

"Don't worry. I'll beat your ass so bad, you won't forget it"

He archs an eyebrow, amused. "Now you abuse the elder? Bad girl"

Your face flushes and core pulses.

"I can be a bit of a brat if I want to" you tease, fingers roaming over his warm chest. "Will you punish me for that?"

Joel's eyes darken on an instant. There's a shadow of desire coating his brown when a low rumble escapes his throat. The air feels charged with a new found tension suddenly.

"Careful, sweet girl. You ain't know what you playin'"

He closes the gap between you, his body pressing against yours. His hands move from your waist to grip your hips, holding you against him.

"You're quite mouthy tonight, aren't 'cha?" he growls, his voice carrying a rough edge.

"Just to get what I want. Besides, your little project tug at my hearstrings" you quip. "And something else"

"Oh, yeah? You gon' tell me what's that?"

You smirk. "What do you think it is?"

He hums. "I'd rather hear you say it"

"That's not fair" you pout your lips.

He chuckles, "Nothin' ever is fair, I reckon. But you're a troublesome little thing, ain't ya'?"

You send him a little flirtatious wink.

"I am looking for some trouble tonight"

He's not amused by your words. You're a greedy insatiable little thing sometimes. So far, Joel's been able to deflect all of your attempts. The farthest you'd ever made it was when you straddled his lap on the old couch of his workshop, and even then, he limited his reactions to grunts and seeing you come. God. It had been tortuous waiting for you to go so he could piston his aching cock to the memory of your little sounds.

"Ain't that interesting?"

"Oh, but it is" you're quick to counter, "and I take you and your little friend are into it"

His breath hitches, eyes and cheeks burning alike with intensity. The heat travels down his spine, straight to his throbbing dick, the reason he's been caught red-handed.

"You surely are looking for trouble" his voice reduced to a rough gasp.

Joel's struggling to maintain the control he so prided himself in, you not making it any easier with your teasing. "Y'a temptress, doll. Know that?"

"Is my magic working?" you ask, batting your eyelashes.

He's resolve is quickly crumbling, self-control tossed to the bin in the corner. Joel loves as much as he hates your big innocent yet teasing eyes. No wonder he was carving you out a deer.

"Damnit, sweet girl. Y'know it's. You gettin' me all worked up in'ere"

"Take me upstairs, then. I'm sure we can find a solution"

He can feel the heat radiating off of you, eyes darkening at the invitation.

"Doll, you're playing with fire here" he warns, despite the obvious effect your words are having on him.

"It's fine. I don't mind the burn"

He knows he's done, Joel's growl an indicator of his control snapping completely.

"Damn it" he mutters before his lips crash against yours. It's heated. Desperate. His hands grip your hips, holding you tighlty against him while he devours your mouth like a starved man, as if you didn't kiss just this morning, before going on your patrol.

You moan into the kiss, Joel swallowing your sounds as if they were his own. Fuck. His mind goes fuzzy when you grab his face with both of your hands, deepening the kiss. He thinks he's backed you against a wall, by the small Thud sound. He's lost: on the way your lips move, on the way they taste, in the sounds they make.

You pull out first. Joel thinks you belong in a museum: with your lips, swollen and parted. It's too your dilatated eyes and chest, rising and falling. He can't resist and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingers tenderly brushing your soft skin.

"Aren't you the prettiest man in Jackson?" you blurt out, adoring.

He's not used to being praised like this. Not even by you, even after months of doing so. Always feels like the first time. And then, he feels stupid: for blushing too much, heart skipping too many beats, chest clenching too hard. Like a damn highschooler. Joel's as embarrassed as content that you make him feel all sort of ways.

"Easy, sugar" he mutters, voice gruff. "You gon' give 'tis old man an ego"

"No need to blame me when you can look at yourself in the mirror" you're quick to reply. "I believe that's enough reason to give you some ego"

He's smirking at your response. Yeah, he definitely loves when you stroke his ego. Especially as of late, where he feels... rather, old.

"Oh. Oh" you begin to tease through giggles, playfully hitting his chest. He huffs, catching where this is going. "Do you like it when I call you pretty?"

Joel's cheeks flush a little at your question, his stoic nature faltering a bit at your teasing.

"Maybe" he mumbles, eyes avoiding yours. "But don't let it get to your head, doll"

"Too late" you murmur, wrapping once more your hands on his neck. "You're pretty, Joel. Especially when you flush"

Pretty isn't exactly a word he'd used to describe himself. But when you call him pretty, out of that sweet mouth of yours, his name along as well? You can call him however the fuck you want.

He can feel his body reek out vulnerability, and he hates himself a bit for getting weaker. He tried, really did, but his walls had been down for a while. His defenses had crumbled. He was pathetic, lonely, and sad. Yet here you were, looking at him with your big adoring eyes like he was the only thing that mattered. Joel lets your words sink for a moment, letting out a small sigh, not being able to deny it feels good. Maybe it does matter.

"You're too damn sweet, sugar. Y'know that?" he mutters, finger tracing lightly your hip.

You smile, sickenly saccharine. "I'm aware. Trust me, I have a cute grumpy boyfriend to remind me so"

His expression softens even more at your easy loving. He's so fucking putty in your hands, Tommy would laugh in his face.

"Y'got me wrapped 'round your damn finger, sweet girl" Joel whispers in his usual gruff voice, but it's laced with affection.

You raise a finger, moving it in front of his face like one would with a bone and a dog.

"You mean this?"

Joel watches your finger with amused eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips. It scares and excites him how easy it's to fall under your spell. With soft movements, he reaches and captures your hand, bringing it to his mouth. He then presses a gentle kiss to your finger, eyes never leaving yours.

"Yeah, doll. This one" his voice is husky, "All of 'em. Y' got me good"

You gulp under the intensity of his gaze. "Don't do that..."

He smirks at your reaction, finally feeling like he has some leverage. He raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes as he holds you even closer, your chest pressing against his. You even feel the soft curve of his stomach over your own.

"Don't do what?" he asks, playing coy. "We're not backin' down now, are we, sugar?"

At your lack of answer, cheeks bright, he huffs, hand moving to gently cup your chin. Joel's brown eyes lock with yours when he speaks again.

"So, what now? Or did y' just come by to check up on your ol' man?"

"No. That's not what I want"

His smirk grows as the dark shade on his eyes. He's not dumb, of course he knows what you want. Just wants to hear you say it.

"What'da ya' want, then?"

You pout your lips, whining.

"Joel... Just give me what I want"

He leans in a bit closer, voice gruff and filled with desire. His thumb strokes your chin softly.

"Depends" he grumbles. "You gon' ask nicely?"

"On my very best behavior" you raise your hand, "I swear it"

He smirks, letting go of your face. "Good girl"

You stand on your tiptoes, leaning against his ear. His heart skips a beat, a small shiver running down his spine at your lips ghosting his skin.

"I am" you kiss his earlobe. "For you. Just you" you leave a little bite on it. A low rumble escapes his throat. You lick the red little spot to soothe it. "Your best girl"

"My only girl" he's quick to reply. You're up in the air in a minute, his hands supporting you as he carries you, your legs dangling at his sides. It amazed you how strong he continued to be, despite his age. Strong men make good times, you suppose.

You giggle a bit. "Oh, Joel. I'm so lucky"

His heart races at your words. All this banter fills him with a warm fondness, making him feel young again.

"I reckon that's me, doll"

Your noses brush after his comment, in silence. You close your eyes, as so does he. You break the aphony first.

"Joel"

"Yes?"

"I want you to have me"

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, his chest swelling with a mixture of emotion. No one has ever spoken to him with such tenderness, even with what your request implies. It's overwhelming.

"Ya' want me?" he asks gruffly, his voice hoarse with desire and emotion.

Fuck. It's happening. What he avoided so badly, but right now? His mind has gone blank, and when it starts working again, it's filled with lewd images of sweet you. Jesus. If he had doubts he was going to hell before, now he's certain. At least, he got heaven on Earth with you.

"Y' sure 'bout that, sugar?" he asks gruffly, his voice husky. "You're so damn young, deserve someone better"

You nod, slowly, caressing his cheek, your voice just barely above a whisper.

"I've never been more sure"

He takes a small moment to gather himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He's suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable, and it scares him as much as it excites him.

"I mean, would've I done all this if I didn't?"

Joel lets out a small laugh. "You little devious minx. I'll give ya' that"

"Give me what?" you tease.

His lips crash into yours as your hands find his face, holding as you deepen the kiss. His fingers dig in your thighs, making you moan and a spark of electricity run through his spine. He lets out a low moan in response to yours, pulling away from your lips momentarily, his eyes darkening with want. Joel looks at you for a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

He lets out a low rumble, his voice gruff and rough.

"Yeah" he mutters. "Keep talkin' like that, and you'll get more than a kiss"

"So, I'll keep talking then"

"Y' little brat" he grumbles, voice dripping with frustration. "If ya' don't stop, I'm gonna..."

Joel trails off, his eyes dark with promises left unspoken.

"Say it" you challenge. "Or are you backing down?"

He takes a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of self control, despite loving your teasing and how it's driving him wild. He lets out a small laugh, his mind swirling with desire and frustration.

"Y' gon' pay for that later, darlin'" he threatens gruffly, his eyes locked on yours.

"How about now?"

Joel's heart skips a beat at your question, the idea sending a surge of desire through him. He can feel his self-control slipping away, your words pushing him closer to the edge.

He lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his hand tightening around your chin. His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and anticipation in them.

"Sure you wanna know, doll?" he asks gruffly, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

"All of it" too eager. He can't help but smile, resolve unraveling. "Don't spare any details"

"And you gon' be a good girl?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Didn't I promise so?"

Those simple words are all it takes for Joel's resolve to finally crumble. Fuck what other people think. Fuck his own fears. He can't resist you any longer, the desire within him reaching boiling point.

"Shit, doll" he rasps, voice rough. "With words like that I'm just gon' give y'anythin' you want"

"Please, Joel" you utter his name in a little whimper.

"Please what?"

Loves to see you beg. Has imagined you squirming, like you did when his fingers would drift too close to your aching cunt. Straddling feels so stupid now, when he could've have sweet you like this a long ago.

"Fuck me"

The sound of your whimper goes straight to Joel's throbbing dick. He's completely undone, powerless against your desires.

"That's right, good girl" he rasps, his voice gruff and rough. You let a little whimper at the praise. "I'll give y'anythin' you want, angel"

He carries you upstairs while you giggle at his huffs, teasing him when his knees creak like the old wooden stairs. Still, he insists on carrying you when you offer to walk, maybe trying to prove his strength to you or something. When his face turns a deep shade of red, you can't tell if it's out of shame or effort.

"Taking me to your bed? I've never seen your bedroom" you muse out loud, once he reaches the final stair.

Despite the intensity of the moment, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"There's always a first" he rasps.

Your nose brushes against his cheek. "Can't wait"

The door opens when Joel kicks it lightly. It's very him, you think, as soon as it comes on view. There's a guitar in the corner, you notice too.

"It's very you" you say out loud now. He drops you on the bed, making you giggle. "It's simple and cozy"

He's still trying to calm his racing heart, but it's difficult when he's hovering over you, so close to your body, he can feel the heat of it. Can even smell your arousal in the air.

"'M not sure simple's a nice thing t' say 'bout someone"

For a moment, the room goes quiet. He hesitates to continue.

"There's just... somethin' I need to discuss with ya' before we get carried 'way"

Your doe eyes look up to him. "Yes?"

Joel takes a deep breath.

"I've... It's been a while, y'know, since... I'm just used to bein' alone. In that sense. And I... I haven't been with someone in a long time"

His voice trails off, a vulnerability settling in his expression.

"Joel..." you whisper, sitting as he backs up a bit.

"'M not good with people" he admits gruffly. "I tend to scare 'em off"

You extend your hand to softly trace over his stubble. Joel leans into your touch, his expression softening, your presence providing a sense of comfort. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

"You're not scaring me. I'm here"

His mouth tastes like sand when he swallows.

"Yeah, but I-"

"Yes?"

He pauses for a moment, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"'M not exactly young anymore, sugar"

"And what's bad about not being young?" you look at him, voice soft. "Are you afraid your knees will crack when you go down on me or what?"

He lets out a clipped laugh. The tension in the room lightens a little, and he's grateful for your attempt to lighten the mood.

"Oh, very funny, sweetheart." he grumbles, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And no, 's not that. I can eat ya' just fine" Joel spits, making you laugh at his cocky demeanor. But then he goes quiet again. "It's just... 'M not as young and good lookin' as I used to be" he finally blurts out.

Why is he even saying this things out loud. He didn't care before. He thought about himself better before. Yeah, before. What is it about the now that he cares, worse, admits out loud his insecurities?

Your expression morphs into one of sympathy. God, he hates it. Looks away from your warmth and pity. No, not pity. Compassion, like Joel was some sort of wounded old dog.

"Joel" you close the distance, tracing his face tenderly, drawing little heart shapes over his stubble. "That's not true. You're as handsome as back in the day, baby. I didn't meet you then, I know that, and this may be biased, but I'll choose the old you always, my pretty boy"

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, his expression softening even more. He's not used to such tender affection, and it's overwhelming.

He takes a moment to process your words, his eyes never leaving yours. He can see the sincerity in your eyes, and it touches him more than he can express. Words were never his thing, anyway.

"Y/n" he mutters gruffly, his voice rough with emotion. He even used your name. "You're too good fo' me"

"I just... I think it's because I love you"

He's taken back, almost falling in top of you, yet quickly regaining his posture. Still, his heart jumps into his throat, dangerously close to falling out from his mouth at your sudden confession.

It's been almost a year of being his and him being yours, yet those three words hadn't even been close to being said. Joel never thought he'd get to hear them again from the lips of a lover. Yet here you were, so damn young and sweet, letting them roll off your tongue in a soft echo of your loving. Safe. Like a home. You were his home.

He looks at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and vulnerability.

"Y'... Y' love me?" his voice rasping a bit as he questions you.

"It's okay if you don't say it back" you laugh quietly, probably to make him feel better. Always thinking about the others, you pure thing.

He looks you in the eye, his hand still cupping your cheek. There's a warm tenderness in his expression, despite his gruff tone.

"No. Don't think that" he goes quiet for a moment, as if the weight of your declaration was sinking him. He lets out a shaky breath, as if unsure if the world around him was real, his eyes locked on yours. "I... love you too"

Your eyes widen, a smile appearing instantly on your face as it lights up. His heart swells immediately at the sight of your happiness, and all he wishes for is to see it everyday. When he wakes up, to be first, and when he goes to sleep, your face the last thing to see. To be there, even as he closes his eyes and dozes off to sleep. Your giddy giggles are so fucking contagious, a rebellious smile creeps up his lips.

"You do?"

His chest tightens, vulnerable. Filled with an affection never known before.

"Yeah, sweet girl" he mutters gruffly. "I do. I love you"

Your smile is probably the most beautiful thing in the world, pleased and vicious like a cat's.

"Now, if you love me so dearly as you say, please" your lips part in a shaky breath, "have me"

So damn impatient. He may have spoiled you too much.

"Ya' want me t' have ya', honey?" he asks gruffly, his voice rough with desire as his hands slide down your thighs, tainting untouched skin.

You squirm, nodding eagerly. "Please. I want you so bad it hurts"

His voice, so soft and low, may have passed as a grunt. But you saw. Heard. Noticed. Like the way his face frowned, eyebrows furrowed as if you just told him you were sick. As if he wanted to be the cure to the disease he gave you.

"Tell me where it hurts"

Demanding in a tender way. Almost benevolent. Not even hurting you, but wanted to take every pain of yours away. You didn't deserve not even a scratch of this angry dirty world ruining your soft heart.

You point to the middle of your legs, parting them slowly open. His eyes turn glassy as he tugs your jeans down, and the first sight he gets, is your underwear, damp with your sticky arousal. He gulps, eyes darkening with desire.

"Please. There" you whimper.

"I've got eyes" Joel lets out a small, gruff chuckle. "You're impatient, know that?"

He cups your chin, eyes locked on yours. His breath is shallow, voice raspy and low.

"Don't worry. Lemme help"

He places himself in between your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties.

"Gon' show ya' what'a man with experience has to offer, al'ight? Now, spread y'r legs open for me" he commands softly. "Lemme see that beautiful, needy cunt"

He pulls your panties down, his throat dry when he peels the drenched fabric down your legs, revealing glistening folds. He can see how swollen and puffy they were. The sight makes his mouth water and his cock pulse with desire.

Joel lowers his head, knees and bed creaking, inhaling the sweet intoxicating smell of your arousal, his facial hear ghosting over your trembling skin until it tickles. Your nervous giggling get stuck in your throat when Joel buries his face between your thighs, tongue delving into your slick folds to lap up the sweet nectar that dripped from your cunt. He groans at the taste, as if savoring the best meal to exist on Earth.

"So sweet" he growls, voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His mouth latches onto your clit, suckling the throbbing needy bud as his tongue flicks over it. "Too damn sweet"

It still hurts. It's across your face.

"Gon' help with 'tis. Just wait" he thrusts two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, pumping them in and out, curling them to stroke a spot that reduces you to a quiet muffled mess. "S' right, sugar" he praises. "Wanna see you come f' y'r old man"

The feeling of having you here, so needy and responsive, is doing things to him. Joel's lost on the way you beg, his name out of your parted lips in a secretive manner, as if reinforcing the nature of your desires and needs. How this moment was only yours, a whole new world past his door, creeping up the sweaty sheets, making way to his lonley heart, poisoned by the infectious warmth of your own.

He could feel your thighs trembling around his head, cute cries and whimpers serving as a motivation to bring you to the edge. Joel devours you, sucking like a starved man, flicking and lashing at your gushing cunt mercilessly with his tongue. It's experience, he made damn sure you knew about that. He also pumps his fingers faster, plunging deeper into your clutching heat.

"Come on, doll" he urges, voice a low rumble against your sex, "wanna feel 'tis tight little pussy spasm 'round ma' fingers"

"Joel!" you moan out loud, hands clawing into his arms for support.

He can feel your body tensing, your tight walls fluttering around the digits plunging in and out of you. Joel knew you were close, so he sucks your clit with fervent intensity as he curled his fingers just right, stroking that special spot that made your toes curl.

"That's it, y/n" he growls, eyes flashing up to meet yours, dark and intense with lust. "Drench me, y' sweet thing"

With a keening cry, you feel your body burst. Your back archs as your body quakes and shudders, your orgasm washing over you. Joel feels your pussy clench and spasm around his fingers, hot liquid gushing out to coat his hand and drip down his wrist.

Joel's a gentleman, languidly licking and suckling as you ride out of your high. Once your breathing slows, he withdraws his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to clean off your essence. He meets your gaze, eyes hooded with the same hunger as your own.

"Like I said" he praises softly, making your spent cunt throb. "You're too damn sweet, sugar"

You giggle. "You're insane"

He leans in, planting a soft fluttering kiss to your quivering lips.

"Just f' ya'"

There's only one thing left to do. You know. He knows. You both know. But the way he takes in your pause, as if you're going to discover the most powerful secret, makes you believe there is so much more. His expression turns curious at your deliberate choice of aphony.

"Tell me what ya' want now. I could give ya' the world if 's what ya' want"

You avoid his gaze, playing with the collar of his flannel.

"I need you"

He lets out a clipped chuckle. "That I know, dirty one"

You roll your eyes, playfully.

"We're both aware. But it's not that, it's just..."

"Yes?"

"Can I see you, please?"

His eyes meet your expectant ones. His voice is gruff but soft, his desire for you mixing with a hint of vulnerability.

"Y' wanna see me?"

You nod as he gulps harshly, mouth tasting like sand.

"Can I take off your clothes?"

Joel's heart skips a beat again at your request, a mix of desire and vulnerability warring within him. It's too revealing and intimate, but God knows he just wants to give you all you want.

There's a hint of huskiness to his vulnerable voice. Unsure.

"Yeah" a beat. "You can"

You start unbuttoning slowly, licking your lips with eager trembling hands and pupils blown wide. Like a child on Christmas, knowing they're opening what they asked for. What they wanted. What they wrote at the top of their list. Your slow, deliberate unbuttoning has him practically holding his breath.

"Joel..." you bite your lip, removing his final button. Finally. "You're...."

Joel's heart stammers at the sight of your eyes on him, your obvious desire heightening his own. Yet, he avoids your stare as you reveal his bare chest, pose faltering a bit as if his strength succumbs to your hungry stare. He gulps under the intensity gaze, feeling so fucking vulnerable. It shakes him to his core, foreign to all this fuzzy things that make him sick.

He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, his voice gruff and raw.

"Yeah…?"

"Perfect" you whisper out loud, his whole world crumbling down.

Joel's heart skips a beat at your words, his chest tightening with a mix of vulnerability and affection. Despite it, he feels self-conscious.

"Perfect…?" he teases, a hint of a dumb smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah" you hum. "So pretty"

A word that doesn't fit in Joel's world. Feels off-putting. He has never been called such, but once it falls past your lips, coated in adoration, it feels as if it's the only truth ever. His heart skips another beat, body responding to your words.

You can tell he can't believe you're saying those words about him by the hint of disbelief in his eyes.

"Joel"

He lets out a gruff huff in response.

"Look at me"

"Pretty" Joel repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't you believe me?"

Joel's heart skips another beat, the vulnerability growing stronger. He's still not used to hearing compliments about his body by you, by anyone at all. It's making his head spin a little.

He can't quite meet your eyes as he responds.

"Take it easy on me, sweet girl. I ain't exactly in m' prime"

"Joel. Look at me" your voice a little firmer this time.

Joel takes a moment, his heart racing. He can't resist your plea, even if he hates feeling vulnerable. Slowly, he meets your eyes.

His voice is almost quiet. "I'm lookin'"

"Good. Do you want me to know what I'm looking at?" you extend your hand to reach his face, brushing a strand of hair that's fallen to his forehead. "Your greys" then, you tug his bottom lip down, "your lips", you circle the wrinkles around his eyes, "your warm eyes" and afterwards, your fingers dwindle on his nose, "just... all of your face: scars, spots and wrinkles. It leaves me breathless"

Joel's heart races as you speak, your words sinking in. He feels seen, in a way he's rarely felt before. Its messing with his mind.

"You describin' what you seein'?" his voice hoarse with emotion. It sounds far away, as if it didn't belong to him.

His lips part as your hand moves down, grazing his neck and his chest before landing on his belly. The sincerity in your eyes is making him feel even more vulnerable, and Joel can feel himself crumbling under your intense stare and firm hands.

"No, I'm describing what I love"

He looks at you, eyes filled with vulnerability and uncertainty.

"Y/n"

It was like being peeled, layer by layer. He hated how he was built now. Rough. Too sharp around edges. Soft on ones he wished he wasn't.

"All of you"

He chuckles, but it's a defeated dying sound. Almost bitter.

"That's impossible, honey"

"What's impossible is not to love all of you"

He gulps, throat raw but unable to say anything.

"Please. Let me love you"

As if he hadn't already hand you his soul. Swallowed all of your words with a feverish desperation, placed them inside a space that had gone cold with time, now feeling like a warm home where he finally belonged.

"My sweet girl..."

You feel Joel pressing you up against the mattress, his bigger body pinning you in place with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hands are everywhere, roaming over your naked curves with a fevered intensity, a low growl of frustration escaping his lips when you break the kiss to take some air.

"You can do with me anything you want"

Joel's breath stops. With a trembling but sure hand, he reaches out, his calloused fingers skimming over the swell of your breasts, teasing the sensitive flesh until your nipples strain against the cloth of your bra. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel the hard length of him pressing insistently against your stomach.

Joel leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers. 

"Anythin'?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire as you nod, desperate. 

But then, he's laughing, as if pleased with your eagerness. Amused.

"That much? Oh, baby, you that desperate for 'tis ol' man? That bad you want me?"

You whine, at loss for words, the throb too painful to think straight. Joel laughs again, but it's devoid of malice.

"No, don't just nod. I wanna hear you say it, y/n. Wanna hear ya' beg fo' me like the desperate sweet little thin' y'are"

You've never been one for begging, but something about the way he's looking at you, the raw, unbridled hunger in his eyes, makes you want to give him everything he wants and more.

"Please, Joel" you breathe, voice reduced to a needy tremor, "I need you so bad, Joel, please. I need you inside me. I want you filling me, claiming me, in every way possible"

"My sweet girl" he coos, followed by a flurry of heated kisses and desperate groping. You barely have a chance to catch your breath before he's pressing you up with more insistence, his body pinning you in place with a hunger that leaves you desperately aching for more. "S'pretty"

Joel's eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, drinking in every inch of your glistening skin. He smirks at the desperation written all over your face, something wicked and tender circling inside his brown eyes.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers huskily. "Ts' it, doll. Keep on beggin'. Lemme hear how much y' need ma' cock 'nside 'tis tight little cunt"

You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily as you feel his fingers slide down to brush against your sensitive clit, a wave of arousal coursing through you.

"Please, please, please, Joel" you whimper, your voice high and needy as you grind yourself shamelessly against his hand. "I'm so wet for you. Please, I'm begging you, make me yours"

He growls. "S'eager, huh? Who would've thought ya' were such'a dirty girl for 'tis ol' dick? Just had ya' bein' all lovey dovey a second ago and now y'are beggin' fo' me to ruin 'tis pretty pussy, baby?"

He quickly sheds what's left of his clothes, revealing to your wide eyes the thick, hard length of his cock, springing free and bobbing heavily against his soft belly. Alright, you had some thoughts about dating a much older man, even if Joel seemed the type of guy to be doted, given his energy. You're glad to be proven wrong in the very best way.

"Fuck, Joel" you breathe, licking your lips as you imagine the taste of him on your tongue. "You're so big"

His cheeks color a pretty pink, sweat beads adorning his forehead. The heat of his body envelopes you like a furnace.

"Now I truly believe ya' like what ya' seein'" he chuckles, "such'a greedy little thing" a beat. "S' fucken hungry for ma' cock. Don't worry, baby. 'M gon' give it to you, nice and slow, until you're screamin' fo' me to let you come"

Joel settles between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, effectively swallowing your needy whimpers.

"M' gon' take real good care of what's mine" in that southern drawl that drives you crazy. Hungry. Poisoned with a ravenous desire to possess every inch he can reach of your body. For everyone to see. Know. For all the prying stares. Judgeful. To appreciate in secret under the watchful gaze of the weak sunrays that filter through the courtains of his bedroom.

He then leans to take one of your nipples on his mouth, suckling and teasing the rosy peak, lapping the sensitive bud with his tongue, his hand kneading and squeezing the soft flesh of your breast. You arch into his touch, a symphony of moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he works your body.

At the same time, Joel begins to slowly, teasingly push forward, the thick head of his cock parting your slick folds and sinking inch by tortuous inch into your tight heat.

"Joel!" you gasp, your nails sinking down on the soft expanse of his broad back as you take in his girth, walls clenching and fluttering around his size.

Joel's breaths come in harsh pants against your skin as he fights the urge to bury himself to the hilt in one thrust.

"Y'are so fucken tight" he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Don't wanna hurt you, my little fawn. But ya' feel s' good, sweet girl. S' perfect 'round ma' cock."

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, using the leverage to rock your hips up against his, taking him a little deeper with each desperate roll. He's impressed by your hunger, your desire fueling further his consuming own.

"Joel" you mewl, voice breaking with need, "I can take it, please, I promise. I just need all of you, Joel. Please, fuck me hard and deep until I can't think of anything but the feeling of your cock inside of me"

With a feral growl, Joel surrenders to your plea, slamming his hips forward to bury himself to the hilt inside you. A scream that sounds like his name tears from your throat at the sudden, intense sensation of all of him devouring your from inside, your body convulsing with the force of his thrust.

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes that shake the bed frame and echo through the room. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with the sounds coming out of your mouths.

"Please, please. I wanna come, please"

Tears well in your eyes at the insistence that rocks your body. Joel's eyes widen, perhaps in surprise, this new and strange, yet, his cock twitching makes this all the more intriguing. Arousing even.

"S' you cryin' over my cock?"

You deny it, but the salty trails have started to pool down your cheeks, your prettu fluttering eyelashes damp. Joel gulps, feeling blood rushing to his cock again.

"Don't worry, little fawn" doesn't know why but his tongue runs across your tear-smeared face, the taste of your damp skin, musk and sweat strong, make his mind go numb. "I think ya' look pretty when ya' cry"

Joel feels your velvet walls starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning cock, signaling your coming climax. He doubles his efforts, slamming into you with a wild, primal intensity that steals your breath away.

"That's it, sweet girl" Joel growls, voice ragged with lust as he feels your body tensing beneath him. "Come for me, y/n. I wanna feel you comin' undone on ma' cock, screamin' ma' name as I fill you up nice"

You're a sight to savor in, like basking the first rays of sunlight on the morning. Like his bitter coffee on his favorite mug. But you're sweet on the inside and the outside, he thinks as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing merciless circles over the sensitive nub. Joel is lost on you, he's aware, as he leans down to capture your lips in a consuming kiss. He just wants to have all of you, day and night, body and soul, in and out, because just a taste, and he's gone down the deep saccharine trails of your neck and quivering heart.

Your back arches as the pleasure becomes too intense to bear, your body convulsing uncontrollably as your climax crashes over you. You scream his name, you think, lost in a sea of desperate pleas and incoherent whimpers spilling from your lips.

Joel hilts himself deep inside you as your walls spasm and milk his cock, your release triggering his own, followed by a grunt akin to surrender, perhaps. To you, now fully his. This is the end, he thinks. Now, he's truly yours. God help her, the townsfolk say when you tell them Joel's your man, but when a hoarse shout of your name comes out of his mouth, pulses hot and hard as he grinds against you, you think this is all you need.

Fuck it.

This is what it feels like.

Joel collapses onto you, his bigger softer body blanketing you as he struggles to catch his breath.

"My sweet girl" he coos, peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands roaming over your curves with a gentle, reverent touch. You can feel his heart pounding against your own, when he whispers, voice low and sated. "Mine"

You can't help but laugh in awe. "Yes, Joel. Yours"

He props himself up on his elbows, his brown eyes searching yours with a tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the delicate line of your jaw.

"I know I said I was scared, before. That I've tried to push you 'way. God, y'are stubborn, know that? 'M just glad you ain't a quitter"

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss that makes your heart leap. It tastes bitter like grains and whiskey, but sweet with love and devotion. It's not only a spark between your lips, another of many, but a promise, burning with the same intensity the old coffee pot heats his coffee in the morning.

"Y'are my everything, y/n" your name pronounced like never before. Now ever since.

A heart. A home.

"So are you, Joel" his name in a fervent whisper. Born to be said like a prayer.

And for the first time in so long, Joel Miller feels the same thing he felt when he held Ellie close. I've got you, babygirl.

Hope.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @pedgito / dts: @joelscowgirl ⋆˚✿˖°

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 5 of forever teen Danny adopted JJ Tim and Red Hood. Damian finally gets to see his Akhi again.

[Pt 4: Here]

Damian only got glimpses of the second group of vigilantes in Gotham over the year and a half he's been with his father before he realized how fallible his Father is. He feels woefully misinformed by his Mother, who only sang the man's praises.

At first, it was because the Bats trust him not to use deathly force as well as the last two Robins' being a fresh wound for Father and Richard. And it stung to hear them make plans to convince a meta child to join them so that the crazed lunatics that loyally follow him will follow suit. Sure, it was because one of the lunatics was the second to last Robin who went crazy and refused their help, but it felt like his Father and supposed big brother simply found him unacceptable and burdensome.

Eventually, he decides to break into their files to learn everything they have on the non-Bat Gotham vigilantes, only to discover that the Bat version of events that he was told was incomplete. Horrendously incomplete.

He found camera footage of how terribly they treated Timothy Drake from the moment he entered the Waynes' lives to the moment he ran away. Damian would stay far away from them, too, if he endured half of what Timothy did. Damian already wasn't planning to help his Father and Richard to bring him back into the fold, but now the reason for why is completely different. Damian shall aid him if the moment arises.

The second "lunatic" Damian could recognize anywhere. It's his Akhi from the league! Mother must have sent Jason to Gotham ahead of him. He's using the name Red Hood and became significantly less violent since being adopted by Timothy and the Meta. Damian didn't know pit madness was curable, but the reports prove they did something and helped his Akhi. He wonders if he could ask at some point. Healing others with the affliction before they have to be put down would be amazing! Damian had been terrified of the day Akhi would be next, but now he doesn't have to worry.

Obviously, he's not going to help the Bats arrest his Akhi.

The last person of the group, the meta called Phantom is a complete unknown to him, and the Bats apparently. They estimate him to be 13, or a small 14, year old, but he's the clear leader of the group if the trio has to make a decision together. They've seen him use superstrength, fly, turn himself invisible, and turn himself intangible. He can transfer the last 3 abilities to other people or things so long as he's touching them. He seems to have a rigid moral code, but it isn't the same as Father's. Phantom is perfectly fine with murdering those he deems unacceptable, like the now deceased Joker or Black Mask (both were killed after a Robin was harmed. Which makes him feel a little safer.) or the random serial killer or rapist they find.

Father believes he can sway Phantom to his way of thinking, but Damian is not so sure. Phantom has made his hatred for Father and Richard well-known. And anytime they attempt to corner Phantom, or Timothy, or Akhi, the other two come in swinging.

Damian isn't sure what tonight's plans had been, but he had a bad feeling when he saw them taking John Constantine with them. He already figured out Phantom was a supernatural. He hasn't aged a day since he was first documented, and he's fairly sure Akhi counts too. He's just not sure what Akhi is. Damian is going to be pissed if Father and Richard have Constantine kill Phantom and Akhi just so they can get Timothy back. He'll personally break Timothy out of wherever they decide to lock him away and get them both out of Gotham if the hypocritical Waynes hurt the odd group.

He was forced to take the day off because of a sprained ankle. Which is ridiculous, he's done more with worse injuries, but decides not to argue so he can watch through their mask cameras. Damian seethes at the lies and half truths his family feeds to Constantine to get him to comply.

The trap they set works perfectly, unfortunately, and just as Constantine is about to try to exorcize Jason, the teens breakout into their own chant. The video feed becomes nearly completely static and voices cut in and out, but he can understand what's happening. Damian feels hysterical as he realizes what kind of fire these idiots were playing with and can barely scrape together sadness and guilt for them. He stares at the screens long after Phantom and his adopted children leave, only getting up to prep the med bay after Constantine moved Bruce and Richard to the batmoble. Gordon already called for the doctor, so there's nothing else he can do.

This stunt has broken any trust or safety Damian may have felt in the men he's supposed to view as family. He thinks about his options. He refuses to go back to his Mother or Grandfather, but he's not sure he wants to stay with the Waynes either. It feels like being stuck in a rock and a hard place.

Then he remembers how Timothy got adopted by "The Ghost King" after he tried to go to the Bats.

As much as he hates to leaving behind what feels like his responsibilities, he can't live here. He found plenty of recordings, from different Bats eavesdropping, of usually Phantom telling his sons that just because you can do something doesn't mean you have to. So just because he can help Bruce and Richard, doesn't mean he has to or should. Phantom was very clear on what he wanted THEM to do. Damian isn't part of the equation, and honestly doesn't want to be, he already was walking on egg shells when they weren't going to be belligerent.

When the batmoble barreling in, Damian decides his last act of service to the Waynes will be to help Constantine and Pennyworth get them to the med bay. He doesn't leave the cave until everyone is settled or left, and Pennyworth ushers him to bed. He glances at the peacefully sleeping Bruce and Richard (they were drugged to make setting their bones easier) one last time before complying with Alfred's order, sort of. He goes to his room.

While in his room, he pulls out the bag he arrived at the manor with. He packs 2 changes of clothes, his sketchbook, his pencil case, and his "allowance". He doesn't take more than that. He doesn't want to be indebted to the Bats anymore than he already feels he is. He feels like this will be an unforgivable betrayal in their eyes, but he finds he doesn't mind as much as he feared he would.

He decides to leave them all notes.

[Dear Pennyworth,

Thank you for your hospitality. I shall remember your lessons and think of you fondly, but I can no longer be in Father's care. His dealings with Poltergeist, Red Hood, and Phantom have been unacceptable. He rather kill an undead than reassess his ways. An undead that is my Akhi. I won't be returning until I feel they've actually changed.

Warmest Regards,

Damian Wayne Al Gul]

[Richard,

You preach of brotherhood, but I found the recordings of how you treated Timothy and Jason. I don't see why I would be treated differently. I suggest you figure yourself out and apologize to both of them before trying to "big brother" any other strays Father attempts to bring into the fold.

Damian Wayne Al Gul]

[Father,

I can no longer stay under your care. You have proven to be just as unsafe as Mother and Grandfather. I shall be staying with my Akhi until you are less of a danger to mine and others' safety. Hopefully, this is a wake-up call, but I don't see it being anything more than another excuse for you to punish and push everyone who cares about you away. Your track record is telling.

Damian Wayne Al Gul]

They're not much, but he feels better for writing them.

Damian has outgrown the LoA gear he came in, so he dresses in black jeans, combat boots, a dark green, almost black (Richard said he needed more colour in his wardrobe) hoody, and a surgical mask. He knows Alfred shall be retiring soon and that all the windows and doors leading outside are alarmed. He'll have to sneak out of the cave and use Bruce's codes to get out without an alarm immediately going off. Richard's go off, so Bruce and Alfred know he's been there, and Damian's are so he can't leave without a Bat with him.

It took him two weeks to see enough to piece it together and was infuriated when he realized it was Jason's death date. It's completely disrespectful to Jason and clearly just another form of self flagellation, plus it's like using a birthday as a code, someone IS going to guess it eventually. It killed a lot of whatever respect Damian may have held before tonight.

When the time comes, he doesn't hesitate. It feels surreal to him as he escapes the Manor for probably the last time. He doesn't linger on the fond memories that seem to dig their fingers in as he sneaks away and makes his way to Crime Alley. He swallows the bitterness of realizing his blood relatives have never made him feel safe, only his Akhi. A man who willingly lives in the worst part of Gotham when he deserves the best.

But Damian knows how Jason's heart works. Crime Alley has always been his home, and he'll guard its people till his dying breath.

He climbs down a building and tries to not spook the pair of sex workers, "Excuse me?"

Mission failed, they both startle. The one with mostly straight hair and colourful makeup yells. "JESUS, KID! Ya tryin' ta scare me inta an early grave!?"

"Sorry." Damian mumbles apologically, "I was wondering if you could call Red Hood to pick me up?"

"Sure, kid, but why? Someone try ta sell something to ya?" The other one, with dredlocks and white and black makeup, asks.

"He's my brother, actually... I, um," Damian decides to lay it on thick, wobbling his voice and forcing himself teary-eyed. "I ran away from our relatives. They kept me trapped, and I haven't been able to contact him to tell him I wasn't as safe as we thought I'd be. I ran away, but don't know where he or Poltergeist live..."

"Shush, kid, alright," Black and white sighs, pulling out her(?) phone and hitting call on a contact. "Don't make me regret this!"

Damian nods and stays silent during the phone call, only speaking once she(?) hangs up. "Uh, where should I wait? I don't want to disrupt your business more than I have."

"Ya a doll! Just like our Hoody!" Colourful coons.

"Ya know how to get to the roofs?"

"Yeah?"

"Then wait up there. A kid hangin' about is definitely bad fo' business and Hood will be comin' from the roofs anyway."

"Okay. Thank you for all your assistance." Damian bows slightly towards her before climbing up to the roof to wait. He can't be sure how long he waits, it feels both like hours and mere minutes have past when he hears Jason's familiar footsteps.

"Dami?" Jason sounds confused, which is valid. Last time they spoke Damian was willing to do anything to prove himself to his Grandfather and Bruce. "What are you doing here?"

"I have found both sides of my blood relations to be lacking." Damian admits. "I feel unsafe and wish to stay with you. If your new family would be amenable to it."

"Uh, dad?" Jason asks, tilting his head to the side. A voice coming from open air is very odd to witness in person.

"I don't see why not, but we'll have to ask your brother first." Phantom fades into view and drifts closer to Damian. It feels like the (APPARENTLY) Ghost King (??? Damian is still processing that detail to be honest.) can see Damian's soul. Who knows, maybe he can? Will he find Damian lacking?

"Right, okay, one second." Jason pulls out an odd looking phone and dials a number. "Don't get me wrong, Dami. I would love to have you, but it's a family decision to let you live with us. I cou- Oh! Yeah, so funny situation! How do you feel about adopting another bird?... Yeah...pfft yeah, okay, you have a point...And it'd be funny! .. Sweet! See you soon!"

"He said yes?" Phantom sounds amused and looks fond and unsurprised.

"Yup!" Damian can hear Jason's grin. "You're bunking with me until we upgrade our apartment again!"

"Very well." Damian easily accepts. Phantom tilts his head, eyeing Damian as if trying to get a read on him about something.

"Do you plan to continue being a vigilante?" Was not the question Damian thought he was going to be asked.

"I would like to. I left the Robin costume in the cave, though, so I'd need a new one." Phantom nods in acceptance. Damian doesn't know what he'd do if Phantom said no.

"I will allow it and help you make a new identity IF you promise to stay with me or your brothers when you go out. I won't have any of you dying before you're old and gray." Phantom looks like he will burn the city to the ground at the thought of his children dying. It's comforting. Damian can see why his throughly traumatized predecessors were drawn to him.

"I accept these terms so long as I have more independents as an adult."

"Hm.. we shall revisit the issue when you're 19." Phantom concedes, which is good enough for Damian. "I shall fly us home now. It's getting late and it's faster than parkour."

Damian barely has time to process that before they're rocketing through the Alley. Phantom's strange powers protecting him from wind resistance and gravity. It's the oddest thing he's ever felt, but not bad. Phantom simply phases them through the wall when they get to their apartment.

The frontroom is colourful. Furniture is random, but not clashing, colours. There's pillows and throw blankets of every colour folded to the side or scattered like someone pulled it off in a hurry. Books, games, and puzzles are crammed on multiple bookshelves. It's bright and chaotic, but also lived in and cozy.

Timothy skips in from the kitchen with a tray of 4 steaming mugs of hot cocoa, somehow not spilling a drop. "Hi!"

"Hello, Timothy. Thank you for letting me stay." Damian bows at about a 45 degree angle to show his respect.

"Oh! Um, no problem." Timothy's wide, but calculating eyes show he understands the significance of Damian's bow. "I made everyone hot chocolate. I wasn't sure how you liked yours, so I made it how Jason likes his. Yours and his are the navy and red cups. Dad's is the Nasa one, and this one is mine!"

Timothy says, holding up a rainbow cup with unicorn impaling someone on it.

"Thanks, Tim." Phantom says with a fond smile before something unexpected happens. Phantom turns into a human as he reaches for his cup. After a sip or two, he notices Damian's confusion. "I'm a halfa, kid. My name's Danny Kronoyios in this form. Still legally a dead guy and a ghost. I can just digest things easier in this form and access my powers in the other, can still do both in both, though."

"It's weird, but you get used to it." Jason says while ducking into a hallway. Damian awkwardly grabs the blue cup and sips at it. There's a lovely mix of spices in the cocoa, making it slightly spicy. Jason returns in pajama pants and a band t-shirt Damian doesn't recognize and plops on the couch Timothy has curled up on. "It's been one hell of a day!"

"Indeed." Phantom (because what kind of name is "Danny" for an undead king?) hums, "Want to watch an episode of something before bed?"

And that's how Damian's surreal night ends. He and his possibly new family, drinking cocoa while watching an episode of some show Damian doesn't really understand, but found amusing anyways. Timothy gives him some of his pajamas when they realize Damian didn't bring any. And Jason using him as a teddy bear when they all go to bed. It's nice. It's the safest he's felt since arriving in Gotham. He is positive he made the right choice.

[sturniololuvz]

hiiii i think it’s adorable how chris always says he likes to take turns sleeping with nick and matt, could you write a fic where matt and his gf are sleeping and chris comes in and joins them bc he has sleep paralysis/nightmares and y/n and matt comfort him then they all fall asleep i think that’d be sooooo cute

yessss

⸻

“Room for One More”

It was late — like, really late — when Y/N stirred, feeling the bed shift under her.

She blinked in the dark, Matt’s arm still heavy around her waist, but someone else was standing at the edge of the bed.

“Chris?” she whispered, voice scratchy with sleep.

He was barely a shadow in the doorway, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, head ducked low like he didn’t want to be seen.

Matt shifted behind her, groggy. “Mmph…what’s up, bro?”

Chris stepped closer, voice small. “I…I had a nightmare. Thought I saw stuff. I think it was sleep paralysis.”

Y/N immediately sat up a little, her heart twisting. His voice cracked just the tiniest bit at the end.

“Come here,” she said softly, already lifting the blanket.

Chris hesitated, but Matt reached out, grabbing a handful of his hoodie sleeve and tugging him toward the bed. “C’mere, dumbass. You’re not sleeping alone after that.”

Chris smiled weakly, kicking off his socks and climbing in. He wedged himself between Matt and the edge of the bed, curling into the warmth without hesitation.

Y/N shifted closer to Matt to give him room, but Chris still ended up half-flopped against Matt’s shoulder, like a kid clinging to his older brother. His breathing was still shaky.

“You’re okay now,” Matt mumbled into Chris’s hair, barely awake but still wrapping an arm around both Y/N and Chris at once. Protective, even half-asleep.

Y/N reached over too, brushing Chris’s messy curls back gently. “You’re safe. Promise. Nothing’s gonna get you.”

Chris’s fingers curled into the blanket, his whole body slowly starting to relax between them.

The three of them lay there, tangled up, a quiet little pile of comfort in the dark.

Matt pressed a lazy kiss to Y/N’s temple, then rested his chin against the top of Chris’s head. Chris let out a soft, shuddery sigh — like he’d been holding in the fear until now.

“You can wake us up anytime,” Y/N whispered. “Seriously.”

“Yeah, bro,” Matt added, voice thick with sleep. “We got you. Always.”

Chris didn’t answer — he just nodded a little against Matt’s chest, finally letting his eyes flutter shut.

It didn’t take long before all three of them were breathing slow and even, the room filled with nothing but the sound of quiet, safe sleep.

And for once, Chris didn’t have another nightmare.

⸻

[zorostitties]

Intertwined; 2

⤕ Luffy and you were like two sides of the same coin: opposites in every way, but similar in what mattered the most. Tied by a vow made with the purity of a child's heart, life keeps trying to tear you apart - but the vow that intertwined your destinies would not be broken so easily. Or, Luffy promised to marry you someday when you were kids. This is how he keeps his promise.

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (f) reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, toxic family relationships, death/grief, when i say slow burn i mean it

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: HELLO YALL 💋 I can't stress enough how excited I am about this fic - and it's only beginning. Thank everyone that left comments on the first chapter!! I still have to make a proper playlist for this fic BUT a little song rec - I listened to Stay With Me from Miki Matsubara while writing this chapter!! kinda cliche but it makes me feel nostalgic and those are the correct vibes for this one. 🤓 Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Taglist open!

➛ 9

One year, zero failures.

Twenty five commissions. Millions of berries in profit to the Scarpia safes.

And finally – five days of freedom.

In the Scarpia family, you couldn’t ask for things. You negotiated. Everything was transactional; that was the soul of the business. To get something, you must give something in return. Different things had different prices.

The cost of your little unsupervised vacation was absolute and obedient hard work. No more running away, no more slacking off, no complaining… instead, improving in every area that mattered to be a better assassin. You took commissions, excelled in training and tests, attended Landon’s classes without fail.

All so you could get what you wanted on your birthday.

It wasn’t an expensive request, but you knew that it costed much more than anything your brothers ever asked for – much more than Urso’s cannon that was exclusive to Marine warships, Saqr’s golden armor armor or Crowley’s actual warship with a full crew. Five days of being away, not being followed by anyone from the family, no questions asked? That was a lot. And so, the price to pay for that was high.

But you payed anyway. Payed splendidly. So your father had to honor the deal.

And finally, after a year, there you were climbing Mt. Colubo again.

You were excitedly making your way up the hill – running, to be honest. It wasn’t hard to remember the specific hill you agreed to meet; you had an awfully good memory for some reason. Your heart beat faster with each step in both excitement and worry. What if he forgot about you? What if he missed the date? You didn’t know where Luffy lived, so you wouldn’t know where to meet him – and it’d take days to scoop the area after him.

What if he simply didn’t care?

The thought made you nauseous.

Well, if he didn’t show up, you still had a mountain to explore and money to rent a room in the city–

The wind brought an unknown voice to your ears.

Your instincts jumped, took control of your body. You immediately hid behind a bush, crouching down, and waited.

“...tired of this!” A young male voice. A boy’s voice. “We’ve been waiting since morning! I swear, if you’re trying to prank me, I’ll kick you off that cliff...”

Then, another boy’s voice – and your eyes immediately widened. You knew that high pitched whine.

“It’s not a prank, Ace! I said I’d be waiting right here, I can’t leave!”

“Yeah, right. Waiting for your imaginary friend.”

“I’m not imagining anything!” An uneasy groan. “Though maybe I missed the date… has it really been a year? She is taking too long…”

“Tsk. I’m sick of this. I’m heading back…”

“No! Wait!”

You got up and sprinted up the hill.

“Luffy!” Your voice cracked a bit while screaming his name… still not used to screaming. One hand kept gripping the strap of the backpack while the other waved excitedly.

And there he was.

The stretchy boy hadn’t changed a thing. Same hair, same height, same scar under his left eye, a bandaid on a different place this time – his forehead –, same battered up straw hat that was still too big for his head, jeans shorts and a blue tank top…

And same grin, big big grin, that appeared as soon as he spotted you… except he was missing his front tooth now.

“Wolfie!” He yelled. Who the hell–? Oh, right. That’s the name I made up. “You came!”

You had almost reached them when Luffy decided to engulf you in a hug.

...You were also not used to hugs and sudden proximity. The part of you that had been sharpened like a blade had the instinct to crush his trachea with the side of your hand. No no no, these are my five days of vacation. No business thinking! You made the conscious effort to push that part away, to lock it in a dark vault inside of your brain, a vault with a very complicated password. No bloodthirst. No kill intent.

So you just hugged him back instead and giggled excitedly.

Luffy then stepped away and grinned mischievously at that other boy.

He stepped behind you and put both hands over your shoulders as if presenting you like an item. “See? You seeing this? Is this imaginary? Call me a liar again, come on! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, I dare you!”

You scanned each other in silence.

This guy was definitely a few years older than Luffy and you. His black wavy hair fell over his forehead, his tanned skin was peppered with freckles. Like Luffy, his brown eyes were so dark that they almost looked black. He wore shorts, an orange tank top, elbow pads, and held a steel pipe… what was that for?

He was much, much more judgmental than Luffy.

And apparently smarter, too.

Luffy walked to your side.

“This one’s my big brother Ace!” He presented.

You were immediately taken aback. Of course, you remembered how Luffy kept talking about someone called Ace. But you didn’t expect him to be a brother.

Just because your brothers are awful, doesn’t mean everybody’s are, too.

You managed to open a tight smile.

“My name’s Wolfie. Nice to meet you.”

Ace crossed his arms and measured you from head to toe – and you had to fight the urge to immediately despise him, because that look was familiar. Stop that. You don’t even know him yet. It’s your vacation! Time to have fun!

Luffy tapped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “Ace here kept saying I made you up, can you believe that?”

Ace side eyed Luffy with a frown. “You can���t blame me. The whole story sounded suspicious.” He focused on you again and tilted his head to the side. “The hell are you from?”

He carefully analyzed your outfit and backpack. Your clothes weren’t exactly fancy: you wore the standard Scarpia children “uniform”, which was basically a white button shirt, a black pleated skirt and the black blazer with the red scorpion on it (you had quickly gotten rid of that family crest from your clothes, however). You brothers, much obviously, wore pants instead of the skirt, but other than that, it was all the same.

You would have picked something different if you weren’t in such a hurry to get to the Dawn Island as fast as possible. Luckily, the last commission was already at some insignificant island of the East Blue – you picked it on purpose -, but the travel still took a days time. You still had to wait until the clock hit midnight to hop on a ship and head to the island (you couldn’t risk making your way with Landon nearby).

But anyway – your whole appearance was very obviously of a foreigner. A well lived foreigner. You couldn’t lie to two locals that you were from High Town, and you had already told Luffy you lived far.

Luckily, you had everything planned.

“Loguetown,” you announced. Ace seemed a bit surprised for some reason.

Big fat lie, obviously.

You’d been to Loguetown once or twice. It wasn’t that interesting of a place despite the mystique around it. Regardless, it was still a pretty big city and an acceptable answer: far, but not too far. Not too suspicious.

Ace quirked one eyebrow up. “...That’s far. What brings you to Mt. Colubo of all places?”

You shrugged. “My father visits the Goa Kingdom once a year because of his business and I like to come along.”

“You like to climb a mountain on your own.”

“I like animals and insects. I catalog them.”

“She draws pretty well. I mean, not better than me, but–“

“The mountain with the giant dangerous animals.” Ace cut Luffy off without taking his eyes off you.

“Yeah, that’s why this place is interesting.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the problem with that?”

“The problem is that this doesn’t make any sense.”

“What? You think a girl can’t take care of herself?”

“That’s not what I mean–“

“How are you alive? Luffy ate a Devil Fruit, so I get it, but how about you?”

Luffy looked between you and Ace like a ping pong ball coming and going.

And Ace looked very offended.

“What–?! I’m a hundred times stronger than Luffy!”

“Hey!”

“Don’t change the subject!” Ace once again ignored Luffy and pointed his finger at you. “I don’t know how a rich brat like you is even alive in here!”

You let an annoyed groan past your lips and tightened your fists. What an insufferable guy!

But then, you narrowed your eyes and refrained from arguing more. I didn’t come here to argue with anyone. I came here to play with Luffy.

A smug smirk grew on your lips. You held both straps of the backpack and took a small step back.

Then – you sprinted.

It made the wind howl, the trees sway. You had time to hear a satisfying gasp from both of them, but especially from the oh-so-annoying Ace.

In the blink of an eye, you were standing on the lower branch of a tree nearby.

“This is how.” You announced to a shocked Ace while smiling.

Luffy laughed.

He hopped excitedly and shook his arms. “I told you, see?! I told you, I told you!” The straw hat boy then looked at you with a defiant grin and fire in his eyes. “I said I’d be even faster this time!”

“Then prove it!” Now you were the one hopping excitedly. “You’re it!”

Luffy laughed and launched his weird stretched arm in your direction. You deflected him and jumped to another tree.

Ace stood there, still a bit shocked, and watched as you and Luffy chased each other through the trees. Both of you were noisy. Both of you disturbed the small animals like birds and squirrels, made branches shake violently, making a rain of leaves fall over his head. He heard a succession of tag! You’re it! before you said it one last time.

And then he spotted Luffy smiling devilishly at him like a gremlin.

“Are you just gonna stand there?!”

Ace took a step back and sent him a warning glare.

“Luffy, don’t you dare–”

Smack.

“You’re it!”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

Straw hat boy just laughed.

There were three kids disturbing the small fauna now.

“Have you ever eaten crocodile meat?” Luffy asked.

You shook your head. “Not that I remember.”

He smiled. “It’s soooo good. You’re gonna love it. Uh, now I’m hungry…”

“When are you not hungry, Luffy?” Ace side eyed you. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to hunt with us… since you’re soooooo good at everything.”

You shrugged.

Yes. It’s true that you decided to just stand near the river and watch them hunt the crocodile. Not because you couldn’t help them, but because it felt… wrong.

The crocodile was huge. Two times bigger than a cow, maybe. It was now wrapped in ropes as the two boys carried it above their heads towards their home. You’d never seen a crocodile this big, and that’s why you hesitated. Were there even that many crocodiles around?

“I feel bad for it.” You admitted quietly.

The two boys looked at you like you were insane.

“What? You don’t eat meat?!” Luffy seemed flabbergasted.

“I bet you don’t feel bad about cows or chickens,” Ace was much more defensive.

You just sighed and crossed your arms. “That’s not what I mean… whatever. Yes, I do eat meat.” You looked up at the huge animal for a few seconds. “Can I at least sketch it before you cook it?”

“Why would you wanna do that?”

“I already said that I catalog animals.”

“Weirdo.”

You wanted to punch Ace.

“Hey, hey, Wolfie, what’s your favorite food?” Luffy asked.

You held your chin and looked up. “Hmm… crab legs. I think.” Luffy hummed in response. “Or spicy noodles.” He hummed again. “Anything spicy, to be honest.”

It wasn’t without a reason. Your mother was a poison specialist. She made you and your brothers take small dosages of different types of poison not only to be able to recognize it, but to resist it. Turns out one of her poisons burned your taste buds and food became tasteless for months – until you ate a very very spicy pepper from Dressrosa and went oh, I can actually feel the taste of this. Your taste buds had healed, but your liking for spicy food stayed.

You weren’t going to tell them that, though.

“Never seen a girl that likes pepper,” Ace quirked his eyebrow up, clearly questioning you.

“You don’t know that many girls, do you?”

Ace blushed for some reason, but still looked annoyed. “Listen here, you brat–!”

He was interrupted by a growl.

You thought it was a savage animal nearby at first, but the sound was coming from too close…

It was Luffy’s rumbling belly.

“Ugh… I want to eat…” He tilted his head to the side as if he was suffering. “Crab legs… noodles… pepper…”

“You can’t take spicy food, Luffy,” Ace murmured.

“Yes, I can!”

They started arguing and you just watched in silence.

It was… interesting.

They bantered a lot. They punched each other and argued over silly things. Ace usually won most of the fights and arguments. However… you didn’t see genuine anger in his eyes not even once. You didn’t hear genuine insults meant to hurt. It was all silly, superficial – and they always got over it two minutes after it happened.

You wondered if that’s how siblings usually acted.

No. Don’t think of Urso or Crowley or Saqr… that’s not what you came here for.

So you looked ahead and spotted something, which caused you to stop on your tracks.

“Oh!” That caught their attention. “You guys have a tree house?”

It was well hidden in between the branches, but there was definitely a tree house some meters away at the top of an especially tall tree. The wooden structure looked a bit precarious and perhaps even abandoned, yet it immediately picked your interest.

“Did you guys build it?”

Luffy blinked and looked uneasy for some reason. “Huh…”

“It looks pretty cool!” An excited smile appeared on your lips. You gripped the straps of the backpack, ready to run. “I want to see it!”

“Wait, Wolfie–“ Luffy tried to warn you. Which was weird, because Luffy never tried to warn you about anything, so at that moment, you didn’t pay attention to him.

You were running towards the tree.

That’s when Ace yelled “No!”

The ground shook when he dropped the heavy crocodile. In the blink of an eye, Ace was towering in front of you, both of his arms extended to block your passage.

You froze on your tracks.

He… he looked angry.

“You’re not allowed to go there!”

His stance and his voice would’ve triggered normal you’s aggression. But that part of you was locked inside the vault – so all you did was widen your eyes at him.

“But it’s just a tree house,” you tried. That made him angrier for some reason.

“Do not get anywhere near that place!”

Luffy stepped closer, frowning. “Hey, Ace, you don’t need to get so angry–“

Ace turned his attention to him. “If you take her there, I will never talk to you again! Got it?!”

Luffy himself was surprised.

The oldest boy sent a last menacing gaze towards you before taking the crocodile on his own and marching ahead.

You just stood there, too shocked to say anything, for long seconds. Luffy sent you an apologetic look; it seems he didn’t know what to do, either.

...All older brothers are assholes, I guess.

Meeting Luffy’s “family” made you understand him (and Ace) much more.

Their house was deep inside the forest, in the middle of a large clearing. It was a big one-story house with a lookout, though it looked precarious. Many voices came from inside it.

The two boys announced that they had brought dinner. A couple of men wearing white turbans came from inside the house to check it. None of them seemed impressed that the kids killed a monster crocodile, which could only mean that wasn’t unusual. You stood there awkwardly for a while. No one seemed bothered by your presence.

That is, until a big ginger woman came out of the house.

Her hair was long and curly. She wore a white blouse, checkered green pants, a necklace made of red round beads and boots. She had two cigarettes (?) between her lips and the ferocious eyes that could only belong to a leader.

The woman immediately started scolding Luffy and Ace with why’d you take so long?! or which of you used all the sugar?! and your clothes are stinky, you better wash it before tomorrow! and you have to clean all the mess you made! and don’t you dare talk back like that, brat! and I will kick your ass if you don’t watch that tone! and then she finally laid her eyes on you.

She blinked.

You blinked.

“Hi.” You sent her a small wave. “My name is–

“LUFFY AND ACE KIDNAPPED A CITY GIRL!!”

It was like everyone finally noticed your presence at that moment.

The men gasped and gathered around you. The ginger woman fumed like a chimney – and suddenly everything became noisy noisy noisy, with everyone showing different levels of outrage.

“What a horrible thing to do-nii!” Said a short guy wearing a pink polka dotted overall who seemed to be already panicking.

“You guys really crossed the line this time!” Said another tall guy with a brown mustache and a weird wattle on the top of his head, looking at Ace and Luffy disapprovingly.

The woman grabbed the two buys by their collars and lifted them from the ground like they weighed nothing.

“You little psychopaths! This girl’s from High Town, ain’t she?! Why’d you bring her here?! You wanna get us all killed?!”

“What are you–“ Ace grunted, grabbing her wrist. “Talking about, crazy old woman?!”

“We didn’t kidnap anyone!” Luffy screamed. “She’s Wolfie and she’s my friend!”

“Friend?! Don’t make me laugh! Why would a little girl get into the woods like that–“

“Miss.”

She finally stopped to look down when you touched her arm softly.

“They’re not lying. I’m on vacation and came to visit Luffy.”

Silence.

She quirked her eyebrow at you with distrust.

“Where’re your parents?”

“In the city.”

“Where will you stay? It’s almost sundown, there’s not enough time to reach the city before night comes.”

You slipped the backpack to only one shoulder and shoved your hand inside the small pocket.

“I was wondering if I could stay here for two or three days…” You finally showed her what you were looking for – and earned a collective gasp. “...If you don’t mind, of course.”

A wad of cash.

She put the two boys down slowly.

The woman took it from your much smaller hand and removed the rubber band, counting the berries rapidly.

She then looked at you again – and for a moment, it looked like it’d take some more convincing–

But she grinned.

“Of course, darling!” She crouched down to come closer to your eye level – and all of sudden, the aggressiveness and distrust and even the wrinkle between her eyebrows were gone. She was all smiles and blushes and it was like flowers were floating around her head. Even her voice became sweet like honey. “Of course, why wouldn’t we take such a cutie in?! My name’s Dadan. We’ll take care of whatever you need!”

And then all the other grown men were smiling sweetly and blushing too, and the flowers multiplied. You heard I’ll prepare you a bedroom! and I’ll cook you a great dinner! and I can make you cute dresses– wait, why do you know how to make dresses?!

Such a drastic change.

Well. One thing you knew from the world of the adults is that there were just a few things money couldn’t buy.

Ace side eyed you with a frown. Luffy didn’t seem to mind and didn’t seem upset at Dadan despite what she just did.

“Hey, hey, Wolfie–“ He tapped your arm many times. “There are a loooot of beetles around here! And scorpions too! And–“

“Didn’t you said you wanted to draw the crocodile or whatever?” Ace interrupted with somewhat of a pout. “You better do it now before we skin it. I don’t wanna have dinner late because of you.” The older boy walked away with his hands inside the front pockets of his shorts.

“Right.” You nodded. Luffy’s shoulders dropped.

“You’re gonna sit down and draw now? That’s boring! I wanna play!”

“It won’t take that long this time,” you explained while searching for the sketchbook inside of your backpack. Luffy pouted.

You sat down on the grass and quickly started sketching the crocodile’s head from the side. You’d have to check on your Reptile Encyclopedia if this species was already cataloged… you hadn’t brought that book with you – it was way too heavy – and that’s why taking as many details as possible was necessary, so you could compare the drawing with the book images back home.

Meanwhile, everything was noisy behind you.

Luffy, Ace, Dadan, the other guys… they all made a lot of noise. A lot of insults and arguments… but a lot of laughter, too. All that noise wasn’t bothersome. In fact, it was much more comfortable than the mortifying silence that always hovered inside the Scarpia mansion.

You finished the sketch quickly and left everything aside to play with Luffy – and from there, time seemed to run. You played catch and played with a ball and played with a white dog that lived there. You rolled on the grass and jumped rope and played on a tire swing until it made Luffy feel nauseous. You raced too many times to keep count and taught Luffy each different species of bugs you saw inside the forest (though he didn’t remember anything a second after you finished speaking). And then suddenly your clothes were dirty and you were tired but you didn’t mind at all, because that tiredness didn’t hurt.

Finally it was time to have dinner – and the amount of food they cooked was a bit absurd, but everything smelled great. Everyone gathered to eat after bathing and changing clothes. Luffy was quite literally drooling.

“Let the guest eat first, brat!” Dadan reprimanded Luffy with a punch in his head when he tried to grab a piece of meat. You quickly filled your plate with rice, meat and a bit of salad before someone else could complain.

“That’s not fair,” Ace whined with a frown. “Why don’t we get this type of treatment? You never make this many side dishes.”

Dadan glared at him with fire in her eyes. “Because you’re not full of mone– I-I mean, because you’re not a cute, polite girl! Work on your manners first before you get special treatment!”

They started arguing.

You ate from your plate in peace. Luffy filled plate after plate after plate and for a moment you wondered if that giant crocodile was enough to satisfy him. There was a lot of noise, still. They talked loud. Yet, in your silence, you could still see that same thing from before. They argued and cussed at each other, but you couldn’t hear genuine anger or contempt or the will to hurt. Even Dadan who seemed the harshest of them all had that underlying care in her gaze, though you doubted Luffy or Ace could see it too.

Everything made your heart feel surprisingly at ease.

And made you feel something else too – but it was small and irritating, so you decided to brush it off.

“Hey, Ace, you’re losing to Luffy on something, huh?” That guy with a mustache – was his name Magura? – said at some point. He had a suspicious smile and light blush over his cheeks.

Both boys stopped eating for a second and went Huh?

Magura blinked prettily.

“Your younger brother got a girlfriend first than you. You better work on that!”

A room full of grown men giggled. Ace blushed furiously and started cussing.

You and Luffy looked at each other at the same time.

He blinked.

You blinked.

You both scowled like you’d eaten a very sour lemon.

“EEEW!!”

“Where are we going now?” You asked as soon as you stepped out of the house.

The morning smelled like dew, sap and damp soil. There were no clouds to cover the bluest sky you’d ever seen. Multiple birds chirped their melody, and you felt tempted to try to recognize the different species, but you wouldn’t have time.

Luffy had invited you to go somewhere.

“You said it was a party?”

The straw hat boy grinned. “Yeah! A birthday party for the Mayor! Makino throws a party for him every year. She bakes cake and a bunch of sweets!”

You followed him shortly, starting to feel a little excited. That was when you spotted Ace leaning on a tree nearby with his arms crossed. He looked… upset.

Luffy seemed to hesitate for a second.

“I’m going down to Foosha now, Ace!” He announced.

The other boy just shrugged in response.

That was… weird.

Luffy started to run, so you quickened your pace to catch up to him. His hat flew from his head and swayed with the wind while trapped by that thin rope around his neck. Soon, the house and the clearing were left behind.

“We can get to Foosha Village quicker using this trail,” Luffy explained. You nodded and kept silent for some moments while he yapped about cake flavors.

But your curiosity got the best of you.

“Luffy.”

“Hm?”

“Why isn’t Ace coming with us?” Luffy visibly stiffened. “Is he that angry at me?”

The straw hat boy coughed as if he had choked on something.

“He… huh… h-he’s not angry at you!”

“Why isn’t he coming, then?”

“Huh… hmmm…”

You watched very closely as sweat dripped down his forehead, his cheeks got flushed, his eyes very consciously averted from yours, a pout formed on his lips.

He almost looked constipated.

“H-He… he said he’s not a kid anymore to attend birthday parties!” Luffy looked extremely proud of himself for coming up with this answer. “Boring guy, isn’t he? Anyway, I bet you can’t get to that tree faster than me! Three-two-one-go!!”

He sprinted down the trail before you could get ready, making a cloud of dust on his way. You narrowed your eyes slowly.

That morning, you learned that Luffy was a terrible liar.

Foosha Village was about what you already expected – small with not much interesting going on. Not many houses, not many establishments, not that many people. The village port was small with only a few ships docked. The sea that surrounded Dawn Island was of a gorgeous blue, so calm that it could be mistaken by the waters of the Calm Belt.

Partys Bar faced this beautiful scenery.

Luffy stormed in unceremoniously and ran to the arms of a young woman of dark green hair – was that the Makino he talked about?

“Luffy!” She said sweetly while embracing him. “You came early!”

“The earlier we get, the more food we eat!” He giggled before leaning away.

Her eyes quickly found you. “And who is this little princess right here?”

Your cheeks got warm.

What did she just call me?!

“A friend of mine!” Luffy presented. “I brought her to eat cake!”

Makino chuckled. “Well, you two will have to wait, then. The cake’s still baking and I haven’t finished the decorations yet. Care to help me with this?”

You certainly didn’t care.

Makino brought an old box with decorations: ribbons, balloons, confetti and more. You sat on the bar stool and busied yourself with filling the balloons while her and Luffy glued the colorful tapes and little flags around the bar walls. His Devil Fruit ability came in handy in situations like this.

It was weird, this feeling you had. Unusual. The sound of the waves crashing not far from there. Trees swaying with the oceanic breeze. Chatter coming from the street. Luffy’s laughter and Makino’s sweet voice.

It was peaceful.

So peaceful that you felt your shoulders relaxing. For the first time, the “sonar” within you that kept constantly looking for potential danger was down. Yes, you knew that was wrong; it was against everything you’d ever learned. Never let your guard down.

But Landon wasn’t there. Nor your father or your mother. Crowley wasn’t hiding somewhere with a knife waiting for an opportunity to stab you. Saqr and his hound dogs weren’t anywhere near. Urso wouldn’t try to squeeze you to death… and you weren’t completing a commission, either.

You never thought you’d like to keep that part of you inside the vault, but turns out your life became pretty quiet when it happened.

Some kids entered the bar at some point. You couldn’t tell if Luffy already knew them, but they talked excitedly. Soon, they were outside on the street, playing.

You wondered for a second if you should join them, but Makino approached.

“That’s enough balloons, thank you.” She smiled softly. “Care to help me with something else?”

She guided you behind the counter into the kitchen. The place was filled with a delicious sweet smell of the cake baking inside the oven. Other than that, there were plenty of other snacks over the table at the center: some of them were obviously sweets, some looked deep fried.

“I couldn’t finish rolling the brigadeiros. The Mayor always asks for them,” she explained while walking towards the counter where a pan rested. “If I asked Luffy to come, he’d eat everything instead of helping.”

“He would.” You nodded and frowned slightly. “But… what’s a brigadeiro?”

Makino quirked an eyebrow. “You’re not from here, are you? If you don’t know what a brigadeiro is.”

Well. You couldn’t tell if you didn’t know what that was because you weren’t from the area of because you’d never been to a birthday party before – a normal one, at least. Maybe people ate this brigadeiro thing on the Grand Line, too. Who knows?

You repeated your lie, but decided to leave the Loguetown name behind. Perhaps Makino knew that it was also a common snack at that city, which would raise more questions.

After washing your hands, she proceeded to explain what to do.

“First, you have to coat your palms with butter so it slides easily… then, you take a bit of the chocolate dough from the pan with the spoon. It doesn’t need to be much. And then… you just roll it with your hands… until it becomes a little ball. This size is okay. See? Now you just dip it in the chocolate sprinkles and it’s done.”

It wasn’t a difficult task – and Makino was kind enough to let you eat some. After you picked up the pace, she let you do it on your own and went to take care of something else in the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but take glances at her from time to time.

Makino was delicate. The scarf wrapped around her hair matched with her long skirt; the thin pearl necklace also matched with her pearl earrings. She was agile in everything she did and sweet with her words. And that was also unusual.

Your mother – the only female reference you had – was the complete opposite of Makino. She was older, of course, but the differences didn’t stop there. Your mother was beautiful, too, and extremely elegant. But she was also cold. Distant. Black instead of colorful. Reprimands instead of compliments. Makino smelled of candy; Scilla Scarpia smelled of poison.

That made you feel a bit sad for some reason.

“What?” She asked at some point, and you realized you had been staring for some time. You stiffened.

“...Your earrings are very pretty, miss.”

Makino opened a wide smile and approached. “Do you want them?”

“W-What?”

“I have many earrings… these would look cute on you.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned closer. “Oh! How come you don’t have your ears pierced?”

You didn’t. You also weren’t used to wearing necklaces or bracelets or hair clips… nothing flashy or colorful. Your face was almost always hidden behind a white wolf mask anyway, so why worry about your appearance?

“I can pierce your ears later,” Makino offered. “But it hurts a little bit. Do you want it?”

At the same time… why not worry about your appearance?

A sudden smile and unexpected excitement bubbled within your chest. “Yes!”

The bar was packed a few hours later.

There were mostly kids. Conversation and laughter filled the air. Your ears stung a little bit, but you didn’t mind; you were too busy playing. Makino decided that it was time to congratulate the Mayor, so everyone gathered around a table to celebrate.

The Mayor himself – a short guy wearing a bucket hat, glasses and a colorful shirt – came to stand in front of the cake. After lighting the candles, they all clapped and sang happy birthday to you.

You looked around while everyone was too focused on the birthday man.

So many smiles. So much excitement and care. Little flags on the ceiling, colorful ribbons, balloons, a big Happy Birthday sign on the wall behind the Mayor. Everybody in that room knew him, all of them took their time to come to the bar and celebrate. Was he feeling appreciated? Was he happy and grateful?

His smile told you that he was.

Yesterday was your birthday, you remembered.

No one in the bar knew. Not even Luffy. You wouldn’t try to tell him and steal the moment. So, while you clapped and sang along, you silently pretended that it was all for you. It was silly and inappropriate, but you did it anyway. You pretended for a little over a minute that your birthday was filled with sweets and cakes and kids around your age to play with and music and laughter.

When the Mayor blew the candles, you silently wished it would be you in that place someday.

The moment was over soon. Slices of cake were distributed. Chocolate cake with strawberries. It tasted amazing. Makino had to stand near the cake to prevent Luffy from eating everything by himself.

The kids went out to play again. You followed, leaving this small moment of sorrow behind.

“Hurry up, you two. I don’t want to see you climbing up that mountain in the dark.” There were still a few hours left until sunset, but Makino was right. You had eaten more than what your stomach could take and tired your legs from running around so much.

Makino handed you a picnic basket: it had slices of cake, brigadeiros, coxinhas (which was something else you had never eaten before – a crispy fried snack in a teardrop shape filled with shredded chicken) and sandwiches. “These are for Ace and the others. I’m glad you’re here to carry it, because Luffy would end up eating everything on the way if I gave it to him.”

“Hey!”

She giggled and leaned down to hug Luffy. When Makino leaned away, she lowered her voice, but you could still hear very well when she said: “Tell Ace I’ll go see him tomorrow, okay?”

She then approached and hugged you. “Don’t forget to clean your ears with alcohol everyday.” Makino touched the pearl earrings softly and smiled. “You do look very cute with them!”

Your cheeks felt hot again. For whatever reason.

After waving your goodbyes, there you were making your way into the forest.

Luffy didn’t feel like running, which was a bit of a miracle. Even him could get tired… and you were thankful, because like that, he couldn’t run away from you.

You waited until you were out of the village to start.

“Luffy.”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t Ace come?”

He stiffened again.

“Y-You already asked that, didn’t you? And I already answered.”

“I don’t buy it. There must be another reason.” You approached him until your shoulders bumped. “Come ooooon. I won’t tell anyone.”

Luffy made that weird constipated face again and crossed his arms. “I… huh… I don’t know! I have no idea! Hah!”

“I’m great at keeping secrets! You can trust me!”

“Seriously, I don’t know anything!” But he was sweating again and avoiding your gaze so much that his eyeballs were almost rolling inside his skull, so it meant it was time to play dirty.

You shoved your hand inside the basket and put a coxinha in front of his face.

His eyes widened.

“I’ll give it to you if you tell me.”

Luffy gasped.

He froze, his fingers trembled, his mouth drooled. It looked like he was facing the biggest challenge of his life. The coxinha smelled amazing. It was still warm and shining golden in its crispy fried glory.

For a second, it looked like he was raising his hands to grab it – and you were ready to sing victory.

But Luffy tapped his foot on the ground and whipped his head to the side aggressively.

“No!”

It was your turn to gasp.

Was it so serious that Luffy couldn’t even be bribed with food to tell the truth? That was surprising.

Admitting defeat, you put the snack inside the basket again and went back to walking. “Okay, then.”

You heard Luffy whine behind you and the tap tap of his sandals fast approaching again. “But we could eat one of them, right? They would never know.”

“You can’t eat just one. You’ll want the whole thing.”

“Nooo, I’m serious!” He brought both hands close to his face in a praying position and looked at you with round, begging eyes. “Just one? Please? Please? Please?”

You hesitated before admitting defeat for the second time that day.

“Just one.” Luffy giggled excitedly. “Eat slowly ‘cause it’s really gonna be the only one!”

He took one. You took one.

You chewed in silence.

This coxinha was another secret you’d have to keep. Another lie.

Luffy was a terrible liar. It looked like he couldn’t lie to save his life. Meanwhile, lying to you was easy… it was part of the job – sometimes you’d have to go undercover, and to get info on a target, you’d have to lie your way in. You were also used to lying to avoid punishments. It wasn’t hard to come up with something on the spot. Believable lies, sometimes only twisting the truth a bit to get what you wanted.

You lied to everybody here. All of these kind people that had been nothing but honest to you. All of these people calling you by a name that wasn’t truly yours. Wolfie this, Wolfie that… but Wolfie didn’t exist.

No one should see your face. No one should know your name.

But would you ever be able to make a real friend behind this mask of lies?

You wanted Luffy to be a real friend.

So you swallowed and gathered some courage.

“Luffy.”

“Hmm?” His mouth was full.

“I have a secret to tell you.” He seemed mildly interested. “‘Wolfie’ is not my name.”

You gave him your real name quietly – almost as if there was a possibility of someone else hearing it nearby. You decided to leave your last name behind. That would be too risky.

Luffy repeated your name. You nodded. He quirked an eyebrow. “So what?”

“I’m not from Loguetown. I’m not even from the East Blue.”

Luffy narrowed his eyes slowly, finally fully interested. “And why’d you lie?”

You pressed your lips and debated for a second if this was the right thing to do… but Landon wasn’t here, or anyone from your family, and the only thing with ears nearby was a squirrel and a couple of birds.

So you continued.

“I’m an assassin.”

You held your breath and waited for Luffy’s reaction.

He could laugh at your face and say you were lying. He could scowl and run away in fear. He could push you down the hill and tell you to never get near his family again.

But Luffy did what you least expected.

...He didn’t react.

At all.

He just kept chewing the coxinha as if you told him what you’re having for dinner.

“Why are you an assassin?” He asked.

“It’s the family business.”

“So your parents are, too?”

“Yeah.”

“And why do they do that?”

“For the money.” You shrugged.

“Hmmm.” He finished eating and rested both hands behind his head. “That’s why you’re rich.”

“Yeah.”

Luffy then frowned as if remembering something.

“Wait. Why’d you feel bad for the crocodile, then?”

That was an interesting question. “...I like animals. They’re irrational. And cute.”

“You think a monster crocodile is cute?”

“Uh-Huh.”

“Weirdo.” He was pretty much imitating what Ace said earlier, but you didn’t mind. “So. Do you like to kill people?”

That was another interesting question. No one had ever asked you that. You hummed and held your chin.

“I don’t like it. But I don’t mind it either. It’s just... work.”

“Sounds pretty boring.”

Your shoulders dropped. “It is boring.”

“So that’s why you’re here?”

He caught things pretty quickly. You nodded, an annoyed knot appearing between your eyebrows. “They don’t let me play. They don’t let me do anything! It’s just work work work, it’s just you have to honor the family or whatever.” Your voice sounded more whiny and bitter at each word. “They never even asked me if I wanted to be part of the business. Not that they have ever asked my opinion on anything.”

Luffy hummed again – but there was something a bit strange about his voice now.

His hat had dropped a bit, casting a shadow over his eyes.

“...You’re like Sabo.” Luffy’s voice was… strangely quiet. You’d never seen him speaking quietly before.

You tilted your head.

“Who’s Sabo?”

“My brother.”

“Really?” Luffy had another brother? You didn’t hear anyone mention that name. “Where is he?”

Luffy dropped his arms from behind his head.

“He… he died.”

That took you by surprise.

“Oh.”

Silence.

You’re like Sabo, Luffy said.

For some reason, you remembered Ace’s aggressiveness towards you… how he didn’t want to let you in that old tree house...

And something clicked.

Did you remind Ace of this dead brother? Was he somehow jealous of your presence… as if you could perhaps assume that empty spot?

You scratched your head and frowned. That didn’t make any sense since, well, you had enough brothers and you hated all of them. Why’d you want to have any more brothers? That’s not what you came here for. Ace was a few years older than you, but if your suspicions were right, then he was nothing but delusional and childish.

Luffy made a strange noise, which brought your attention to him again.

You leaned to see his face under the hat.

“...You crying?”

“I’m not!”

But his face was wet with tears and his cheeks were flushed and he had the biggest pout and he rushed to clean his nose with the collar of his shirt. Oh no, he’s actually crying, even though he was clearly trying to hold it in. What do I do?!

You weren’t one to cry. You didn’t even remember the last time you did. Wait, have you ever cried at all? Have you ever seen anyone in the family cry? Huh… no, I don’t think so. Never felt anything deserving of shedding tears, I guess.

“Stop staring at me!”

“Sorry!” You leaned away and crossed your arms. “It’s just that this is, huh, unusual.”

Luffy sniffed and frowned. “What do you mean unusual?”

You scratched your own cheek awkwardly. “Well. If any of my brothers died, I’d throw a party to celebrate.”

Luffy stiffened for a second – and you worried that you had worsened the situation.

But then he laughed.

He sniffed again and cleaned his face with his forearm. The tears stopped! Great! “You really are a weirdo. Is your family that bad?”

You scowled instinctively. “I don’t even wanna talk about them.”

“I don’t wanna talk about them, either. They sound boring.” Luffy sniffed again and side eyed you with a small pout. “Don’t tell Ace you saw me crying. He’ll smack me.”

“Okay.” It was your turn to point at him. “Don’t tell Ace my secret or I’ll smack you.”

“Right. Wolfie.” He used a funny tone to say that name while grinning, and it immediately made you smile too. Luffy was kind of slow, but he got the message. That name was forbidden, even though you decided to share it with him anyway.

Luffy knew the real you now – and he didn’t care.

“Can I get another one–?”

“No!” You took the basket out of his reach before he could sneakily stretch his arm to grab it. “I was serious! Just one!”

“But–“

“No!”

You brought the basket close to your chest and sprinted up the trail without looking back. Luffy’s laugh and the tap tap tap of his sandals quickly followed.

At that moment, while running from Luffy and getting deeper into the forest, while feeling the delicious smell of the food inside the basket and sap and damp soil, while listening to his giggles and the ones that erupted from your own chest, you got to a conclusion.

One year, zero failures – twenty five successful commissions, uncountable classes, uncountable boring hours of painful training… it was a fair price to pay for the happiness you could experience at that mountain, at that island, at this god forsaken corner of the world. No golden armor or cannon or warship could compare to that.

No money could buy that.

You were willing to do whatever it took to always keep this small island of peace intact.

[lscpu]

I wish I didn’t read that bc now I really, really need to see or read a fic like that.

Ok but John doted on Sam to the point that he didn’t want to involve him into the hunt or scare him to death by revealing that the nightmares are actually real. End result is Dean was not only parentified, but alsoseparated from Sammy by the knowledge of the hunt.

Sam got to watch his father and older brother disappear for days on end, Dean dropping out of school, turning to alcohol as a coping mechanism for something while the chasm between Sam and John&Dean grew due to the Secret.

Sam is done watching this secrecy. He’s always been a smart kid, so he knew all those excuses he was given are bs, but as he grows and gets more life experience he enters the denial stage.

The obvious answer is on the nose, but it’s so horrible he doesn’t dare acknowledge it.

He fights with Dad and starts fighting with Dean and he kinda loves him but also can’t help being afraid of them both, especially once he inevitably catches a glimpse of the arsenal that Dean LEAVES WITH IN HIS BAG in the middle of a night.

What other explanation could there be? They never actually hurt Sam but what will they do when they know he knows?

Sam ends up saying fuck it, can’t possibly live like this, and leaves even earlier than in canon — as soon as he’s 18. He finishes high school on his lonesome and goes to Stanford on a full ride still, but doesn’t tell Dad and Dean about it. (Might or might not realize he’s being stalked.)

Doesn’t tell Jess shit as long as he can help it. Maybe lets it slip out when he’s in a doomed-drunk state at some party.

When Dean shows up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, eyes glinting, borderline manic, way too excited, Sam puts himself between him and Jess, guards her even as he explains that this thief-in-the-night is his brother.

(Meanwhile Dean just looks like that because he’s worried about Dad and happy he managed to track his baby brother whom he hadn’t seen or heard from for 4 years. Eyes glinting not bc he’s crying no who’s crying you’re crying, Dean’s just G L A D to see his baby, okay? And also Giddy because he gets to actually tell Sammy what’s going on. MEND THEIR RELATIONSHIP by finally letting Sammy in on the big secret.)

Dean says Dad’s gone ‘hunting’ and ‘hasn’t been home in a few days’, and to Sammy, with all the little clues he has, this is straight up Dean admitting that he snapped and took their Dad out and is using the disappearance as a way to connect with Sam. For the past 4 years Sam’s been reading on true crime & serial killers as a hobby, because of course his family isn’t like that (still denial), and this is when the knowledge of an old classic trope ‘chick got groomed by her scandalously older boyfriend into helping him hunt and kill other girls’ kicks in and makes the dots connect.

Sam thinks, oh shit, my brother got groomed by Dad to be bait and his serial killer partner, a twisted modern take on Bonnie and Clyde, and now he broke free… only to what? Drag Sammy into it?

So yeah I just think that’s neat. Dean ends up manhandling Sam into the car, ignoring Jess calling 911, and driving off with him to follow Dad’s steps only to run into that ghost from the Pilot episode. They fight it, Dean explains that ‘yep, that’s what Dad and I have been up to all these years, monsters are real and we hunt them. Sorry kiddo, tried to give you a real childhood (ruffles Sam’s hair) but clearly Dad and I messed up. ‘

Bonus points Jess reported this, all of Sammy’s college friends are worried SICK about him, what do you fuckin MEAN his brother broke into your place in the middle of the night and kidnapped Sam, what kind of cult shit is that? Where’d they grow up? No legit is it a cult thing? Makes sense Sam never mentioned family! He probably ran away but now they found him!

Meanwhile Dean just drives Sammy back home once the job is done, like he insisted he would do when he ‘kidnapped’ him, fully aware that Sam’s a smart kiddo who wants to learn everything about everything and now that he knows what the fuck was happening with his family and that Dad’s gone, he’d wanna come with Dean to help search for him.

But Jess reported this, right. So Dean gets arrested the moment he parks by her and Sam’s place (while being extremely smug about it, freaking Sam’s friend out even more), and Sam just tells the cops his brother didn’t kidnap him, Sam went with him willingly, his girlfriend just misinterpreted the situation.

Cops do the whole ‘victim of abuse’ routine. Did your brother threaten you? Is he threatening you right now? Is there any reason you’d lie to protect him? But since Sam is insistent nothing’s happening, they have no reason to take Dean into custody and have to let him go on the spot.

Cue all Sam’s friend thinking this is some Stockholm Syndrome shit. Jess is upset & afraid, friends are wondering if they should stage an intervention, and Dean just up and leaves, still suspiciously smug about the whole interaction, not in the least freaked out by the cops (very much unlike ANY normal person).

Jess texts their friend group she’s legit concerned about Sam’s brother and can’t even go to sleep since he knows where they live and has already broken in once, and that cops won’t even do anything because Sam refused to report it. From what little she knows and got out of Sam throughout the years, it’s not as much abuse as the weirdness — and Jess suddenly remembers the ‘murder kit’ Sam accidentally mentioned Dean having in a bag with him (while they were both drunk. Obviously. So she dismissed it till now).

That same night Sam&Jess’s place goes up in flames. A bunch of eye witnesses confirm the weirdo brother’s car was in the vicinity. Sam talks to the firefighters, the police, makes a statement on the spot — and up and leaves with his brother without even talking to his friends.

(Dean told him this is exactly what happened to Sam’s mom — it was no ordinary fire — and Sam did have visions of Jess like this, too.)

(Sam can’t shake the suspicion that Dean could be involved, despite everything he learned about the ghosts and the demons.) There is still the air of broken trust between them.

Sam can’t help the fear that his brother really is a serial killer. (For a moment there, everything started making sense, Sam was able to admit that’s what he feared Dad and Dean were. Unfortunately, he put a name to it, ‘I thought my Dad and brother were serial killers’ — but the fear didn’t fully go away, because it took time and a lot of processing to actually accept that the paranormal is so common that hunters are constantly working to fight it.)

Anyway, remember that scene in Bugs where Sam says ‘no no [we aren’t serial killers]’ and Dean gets all sappy n grinning like ‘could be fun tho :)’? Yeah, Sam would pause and think, what if they are, though. What if DEAN is.

MORE BONUS POINTS/au to an au: during his years in stanford sam actually sat down to anonymously write his experience of growing up with a father&son serial killer duo, and his and jess’s friends find this blog/site/forum/journal/whatever and put two and two together. Dean ends up on an FBI MOST WANTED list so damn fast. Turns the TV on one day to see his face plastered on the news and Sammy’s face there with him on suspicion of kidnapping his baby brother, straight-A 4.0 GPA student, full ride scholarship at Stanford, and torching brother’s place and killing his girlfriend as some elaborate revenge/psychological warfare scheme. Sam’s friends give these short teary-eyed snotty interviews and one of them mentions ‘and then we found Sam’s BLOG…’ and Dean just turns to Sam, frozen in the other bed, deer in the headlights face, and goes: ‘what blog are they talking about, sammy.’

‘Uh, so, I thought you and Dad, uh, that you were… serial killers?’

‘…’

‘And so I kinda… was on this forum, ANONYMOUSLY…’

‘…’

(Meekly) ‘To process that.’

Dean would roll his eyes up in his skull so hard they’d actually hurt.

“In one of the many versions of the pilot script, Sam suspects Dean of not only being a serial killer but also murdering their father”

[soulrox]

Flowing Blood - Demon Twin AU

DPxDC #28

This got away from me...was meant to be a small thing to get outta my head, then 4k words later it's still not done, but I cannot figure out an actual end, so it's just ends abruptly. Be warned, it's long

"Only one heir is needed. Fight to the death to get rid of the spare."

Swords clash against one another. A fierce duel where neither combatant wants to win. Both fighters back away from each other. Identical childish (7yrs) faces mirror each other. Sky blue eyes lock with forest green ones. Eyes that scream in pain for what must be done. The victor was known to them before their blades first touched.

Danyal thinking to himself: I love and care for Dami. I always do all the tasks for the league, killing any and all, so that Dami never has to bloody his hands. Dami's an artist, a creator; he shouldn't have to do this. I can not harm my little brother. I love him. I have protected him from things I hope he never knows. How can grandfather expect me to harm Dami. I cannot ever hurt him. There is only one way this goes. I'm sorry Damian, please forgive me.

Damian thinking to himself: I know I have always been protected by Danyal. I know that Danyal has been harmed before in my place. I know that I have never killed. Grandfather expects me to die, as I am the weaker one. No, not weak, never weak. Danyal has always told me my talents are to create, so why should I ever have to bloody myself? I cannot hurt Danyal, but I know he cannot harm me. There's only one way this goes. I'm sorry Danyal, please forgive me.

Damian gets a hit in. His sword is plunged through Danyal's chest. The duo huddle into each other in a facsimile of a hug. Danyal whispers into Damian's ear "It's fine, I'm fine, you're fine, I'm sorry, Dami. Forgive me. I'm so sorry, I forgive you. I love you. I-I Forgive You." The presumably final words ever to be spoken by Danyal Al Ghul.

Damian stayed stoic as well as he could with his brother's blood on his hands. His dead brother by his own hands. Oh, how much in that moment, Damian wishes he could cut off his hands.

Danyal's body gets carted away, all traces he ever existed erased. Except for the sword now owned by Damian, an engraving of stars upon the hilt. While Damian's sword with a pencil and paint brush carved in the hilt gets thrown in the pit with Danyal, neither surfacing forever to be apart of the pit.

Fast forward, Damian's lived with Wayne's since 10

Bruce decided that for Damian's 14th birthday, he would organize a surprise for him. A section of the Gotham museum to hold and showcase his artistic ability. Damian is an artist. Anything and everything is his medium. Many, many sketch books get filled by him. Most (all) of which the rest of the family has never seen. Painting is the one outlet that Damian rarely uses. Or does so in secret. As canvases are harder to hide than books.

Bruce ropes in the rest of his kids to help. The kids help because if it goes good, they'll add their name to the gift. They end up going through all of Damian's works to find items to showcase. (None of them even once think how going through his art will not make him happy)

Several sketch books are seemingly filled with self-portraits. The family, upon seeing the endless self-portraits, starts thinking that Damian might be way more self-absorbed than they ever imagined. Several who noticed are confused as to why the eyes are always greener than blue. Everything changes when Cass stumbles upon a very well-hidden canvas.

Two identical young boys wearing league clothes, smiling softly, only distinguished by their eye colors. The one on the right with crystal clear blue eyes is depicted with tears rolling down his face, while his right arm holds up a sword, with blood dripping down the blade, hitting the ground. His left hand rests by his side with bloody fingertips. The one on the left with forest green eyes has his left arm raised, also holding a sword. But his sword seems to be made of blood; the blood flows down his arm, connecting to a bloody chest wound. His right hand rests by his side, dripping in blood. A hauntingly beautiful painting with so much agony and pain seen in every brush stroke. Signed by Damian. - The title on the back calls it "I'm Sorry Dear Brother"

[aryadelvich]

one more i beg please “act part 3” jk please dont let this end

I really appreciate your enthusiasm !!! This is the last part I’m writing about “may the act begins”. But if you want something similar, fake dating, enemy to lovers, jealousy… my requests are fully open !!! Don’t be shy to reach me!!!

May the act begin Part 3 - Luigi Mangione x reader

Summary : The roles are reversed, this time it’s Luigi who has to met your family.

"I’ll admit it... I'm kind of scared," Luigi confessed, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"My mom don’t eat trust me," you joked.

"And what if she doesn’t like me?"

"Luigi, you’re smart, polite, kind... and insanely sexy. She’s going to love you," you said, smirking.

He looked down, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I’ll do my best to make a good impression, but it's going to be hard to top what you did with my family," he mumbled.

"Don't worry," you said, tapping his knee, "I'm here to protect you."

"It’s supposed to be the other way around..." he grumbled.

You laughed. He was so adorably flustered, it was hard not to find it endearing.

"Relax, we’ll visit a bit. I'll show you some cool spots."

"I've never met a girl's parents before," he admitted, looking genuinely nervous.

"And your ex’s parents?"

"Different. They were family friends. I knew them before I knew her."

"Just be yourself. They’ll love you," you said confidently.

Finally, you pulled up to your house. You took a quick breath, trying to prepare for the chaos inside. The second you stepped through the door, your two little brothers tackled you like linebackers.

"Heyyy! I missed you guys!" you laughed, hugging them tightly.

"What did you bring us?" one of them asked immediately.

"Still trying to hustle me, huh?" you teased, ruffling his hair.

Meanwhile, Luigi lingered behind you, trying to blend into the furniture — but with that permanent goofy smile he wore whenever he was near you, he wasn’t exactly invisible.

"Hey, who's that guy?!" your other brother barked, pointing accusingly at Luigi.

"Uh..." Luigi stammered, frozen.

"Hey! Manners!" you snapped. "He's my friend."

"Your friend?" they repeated, in perfect, suspicious harmony. "Ooooooh, Y/n's got a BOYfriend!"

"No! He's just a friend!" you protested.

"Sure," they said, nodding in sync like tiny mafia bosses. "We believe you."

Before you could strangle them, your mom walked in. She smiled — until she spotted Luigi. Then the smile vanished like a magician’s trick.

"Mama! I missed you so much!" you said, throwing yourself into her arms.

She hugged you back, but her eyes were locked on Luigi like she was trying to figure out whether to cook him for dinner or let him live.

"And who's that?" she asked, direct as ever.

"Uh... a friend," you said, voice an octave too high.

Luigi straightened up like he was being drafted into the army.

"I’m Luigi," he said, giving his best smile. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I've heard wonderful things about you."

He even added your last name at the end, like a polite little soldier.

"Oh, please," she said, waving a hand. "Call me Abi. 'Ma’am' is for the dead one."

Luigi’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting this.

"I didn’t know my daughter had male friends," she added bluntly. "It’s... unusual."

You cleared your throat. "Luigi, you can drop your stuff here. Come on, I'll show you around."

He followed you gratefully, throwing your mom a polite (and slightly terrified) smile.

You gave him the grand tour — living room, kitchen, hallway — and ended at your bedroom.

"It's not huge... You must feel claustrophobic already," you said.

He looked around. "No, no. It's... cozy," he said honestly.

He wandered over to your battered desk and started examining your worn-out books.

"Big fan of English lit, huh?"

"Yeah. Bargain bin specials. And the city library’s 'take it or it’s trash' sale."

He scanned the titles like he was searching for hidden treasure.

"Hey, I haven’t read this one," he said, pulling out an old classic.

"Oh really? It's a must-read. You can have it."

"For real?"

"Yeah."

He smiled wider, cradling the book.

"So... this is your room," he said, glancing around with a mischievous glint.

"Luigi..." you warned.

"I’m just saying," he teased, "it’s cool seeing where you grew up."

Before you could respond, your mother yelled from the kitchen:

"Dinner!"

You both hurried to the kitchen. Everything was already set up.

"Y/n, go grab another chair for your friend”your mom said pointedly. "Sorry, Luigi, we didn’t know you were coming."

"It’s no problem, really," Luigi said, all polite again. "You’ve already made me feel so welcome. Your hospitality is priceless."

"Why does he use such complicated words?" one of your brothers asked, frowning.

You dropped the chair behind Luigi, and he only sat down once you did.

"They’re not complicated words," you said, rolling your eyes. "They're just words. Don’t make us sound like a bunch of uncultured people."

"What does 'uncultured' mean?" your brother asked again.

You groaned, resting your forehead against your palm.

Luigi chuckled quietly, clearly enjoying the chaos.

"Shut up and eat," your mother ordered before anyone else could speak.

Dinner went surprisingly well. Everyone relaxed. You talked about everything — your late father, your weird stepdad, your childhood disasters, your little brothers' antics, college life... everything.

Then, halfway through dessert, your mom casually dropped a grenade in the conversation:

"So," she said, loud enough for everyone to go quiet, "Luigi... you came all the way from wherever you live... for what exactly?"

Luigi froze like a deer caught in headlights.

You kicked his shin under the table.

"Ouch!" he yelped.

You gave him the death stare.

Clearing his throat, he sat up straight and, in his most serious tone, said:

"Madam... I'll be honest with you. I'm dating your daughter, and I'd like to have your blessing."

"So," she said, staring him down, "you’re telling me... you want to date my daughter?"

Luigi swallowed so loudly even your brothers heard it.

"Yes, ma’am—Abi—I mean, yes, Abi," he stammered.

"And why would my daughter want to date you?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Because… because I really like her. She’s smart, funny, beautiful... she makes me want to be a better man."

Your little brothers gagged dramatically.

"BOOOOORING," one of them said, stuffing more food into his mouth.

Your mom didn’t even blink.

"And what are your intentions?" she asked, narrowing her eyes like a mob boss.

"My intentions?" Luigi repeated, panicking.

"He’s scared," your brother whispered to the other one, way too loud.

"My intentions are... honorable," Luigi said finally.

"Honorable?" your mom repeated, raising an eyebrow so high it almost flew off her face. "What is this, the 1800s?"

You bit your lip so hard trying not to laugh that you tasted blood.

"I just... I just really care about her," Luigi said, his voice cracking slightly.

Your mom stared him down for what felt like an eternity.

Then —and you almost didn’t believe it — she smiled.

"Good," she said, reaching for the bread basket like they hadn't just put Luigi through a full CIA interrogation. "But be careful about your actions, I’m watching you.”

Luigi nodded so fast.

You tried to hold it together, but the sight of Luigi sitting ramrod straight, clutching a piece of bread like it was a holy artifact, was too much. You snorted into your drink.

The rest of dinner went smoothemostly because your mom spent the next hour embarrassing you in front of Luigi with childhood stories.

"Did I ever tell you-“

"MOOOOM!"

She finished telling the story and Luigi almost fell out of his chair laughing.

By the end of the night, he had gained full approval from your family — even your brothers, who decided he was "cool" only after he beat them in Mario Kart.

When it was finally time for him to leave, your mom patted his shoulder like a proud mom.

"You did good, Luigi. You survived."

He gave her a bashful grin, then turned to you.

"I think I aged twenty years tonight," he whispered.

"Yeah, but you earned like, five family points," you whispered back.

"Still not sure it was worth it," he teased.

"Oh, it was," you said with a wicked grin. "You should see what they did to my ex."

His face paled immediately.

"Ex?"

You winked.

"Just kidding."

After dinner, your mom insisted Luigi stay the night because it was too late. Of course, that meant the couch was his.

"You sure you'll be okay here?" you asked, pointing at the tiny, lumpy couch.

"I've slept in worse places," he grinned, trying to act tough, but the way he tested the springs with his hand said otherwise.

Your little brothers were still shooting him suspicious looks, but they eventually gave up when your mom sent everyone to bed.

"Goodnight, Luigi!" your mom called, turning off the lights. "Try not to break anything."

"Goodnight, ma'am," he answered, adjusting the thin blanket you gave him. As the house fell into silence, Luigi lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Sleep? Impossible.

Not with you just down the hallway, curled up in that cozy little pajamas of yours. He shifted. Then he shifted again. The couch springs squeaked dramatically every time.

Finally—when he was sure everyone was asleep—Luigi threw the blanket off, tiptoed through the dark living room like a thief, and crept down the hall.

He opened your door carefully, praying it wouldn’t squeak. You stirred in bed but didn’t wake up completely. Luigi slipped inside and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

"Luigi?" you whispered, half-asleep.

"Shh," he whispered back, grinning. "You don't want to wake your family out there."

You lifted your blanket, inviting him in without hesitation. He slid into your bed—a tight fit for two people. His body was warm from the couch ordeal, and he smelled faintly like your shampoo (probably from the pillow you had thrown at him earlier).

"You’re crazy," you whispered, trying not to laugh.

"You think I was gonna spend the night without you?" he said, pulling you closer under the covers.

The bed creaked dangerously. You both froze. You covered your mouth to stop a laugh. Luigi’s face was close, his breath brushing your cheek.

"I swear to God," he murmured, "if this bed gives us away, I’m blaming you."

"You’re the heavy one," you teased, poking his chest.

"Wow. Body-shamed by my girlfriend," he muttered dramatically.

You giggled against his mouth, and before either of you could think twice, he kissed you. Soft at first. Careful. Testing. Then deeper, hungrier. You tangled your fingers in his hair, and he ran a hand slowly along your thigh, under your oversized sleep shirt.

It was sweet and desperate all at once, both of you trying to be silent—to keep the bed from betraying you—while the tension built up, heavy and electric.

Luigi broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against your lips, "You better keep that pretty mouth shut, bella."

Your cheeks flamed, but you nodded, biting your bottom lip. His hand slid higher. You both moved slowly, carefully, trying not to make a single sound, the bed squeaking just a little whenever either of you shifted. Every small noise made you both freeze, wide-eyed like guilty teenagers.

“I’m an adult why am I so scared ?”he asked, terrified by making any noise.

“The mother effect.” You responded, chuckling.

It was maddening—the need to laugh, the need to stay quiet, the sheer heat between you.

He kissed down your neck, his touches light but urgent. You fought to keep your breathing steady, but he made it impossible.

“Oh my god Luigi..”

“Shhh I know baby but keep quiet.”

He gently gets on top of you, paying attention to every movement he makes, not wanting to make any noise. But the bed creaks too much, so you get down on the floor.

"No risk here," Luigi assures you.

He penetrates you, a grunt that he tries to hold back as best he can emerges from his mouth. When a slightly too loud moan comes from your mouth, he places his hand on your lips.

"You give me no choice, you don't obey."

What he doesn't know is that in this position it's even worse, the excitement is at its peak.

His hand stays pressed against your lips, firm but not harsh, his touch both commanding and careful. His other hand finds your hip, steadying you as he moves deeper, slower now, savoring every second. The floor beneath you is cold against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat building between your bodies.

Luigi leans in, his breath hot against your ear.

"You'll have to be quiet for me," he whispers, voice low and rough with desire. "Think you can do that?"

You nod, though the effort it takes to hold back another moan is almost unbearable. Every slow, deliberate thrust seems designed to test your limits, your body trembling under his control. He chuckles softly, a sound that rumbles through his chest.

"Good," he murmurs, kissing the side of your neck where your pulse races. "Just like that... be good for me."

The forbidden thrill of being caught lingers in the air, making every touch, every movement feel electric. Luigi’s pace quickens just slightly, each push and pull drawing you closer to the edge, the tension between you wound tight, ready to snap.

When it was finally over, Luigi collapsed next to you, both of you breathing hard but silently, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

"Well," he whispered, "if your mom didn’t hate me before, she definitely will when she finds me in here tomorrow."

You snorted, trying to muffle your laugh into his chest.

"Maybe I’ll tell her you were scared of sleeping alone," you whispered back.

"Or we blame the little brothers. Easy targets," he said.

You got back to the bed. You cuddled closer, grinning, as he wrapped his arms around you protectively.

And just like that, you both drifted off to sleep.

You blink your eyes open, sunlight spilling through your curtains. It takes a few seconds for everything to click into place. You bolt upright, accidentally waking Luigi in the process. He groans sleepily and tightens his arm around your hips, as if asking you to stay just a little longer.

"Luigi, we overslept!" you whisper urgently.

It takes him a moment to process, but when he does, he jolts up too. He scrambles to pull his clothes on and sneaks back toward the living room. Peeking around the corner, he’s relieved to see the house still quiet — no one’s up yet. He quickly collapses onto the couch, pretending he’s been there all along.

One by one, the rest of the house wakes up. You and Luigi play it cool, greeting each other like nothing happened.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah, really really good," Luigi says, winking at you, smiling easily

No one seems suspicious. You exchange small, knowing glances across the room, like two partners in crime.

But just when you think you’re in the clear, your brother squints at you from across the table.

"Why are you wearing the t-shirt Luigi had on yesterday?"

Tag list : @contrarianshitstan-blog @bean-is-reading @iinfinitelimits

[lunajay33]

Secret

•🧸🧺🤎•

Summary: The crew needs a hide away and in desperate circumstances happy brings them somewhere they’ve never been, where Happys been hiding a huge secret

Pairing: Happy Lowman x f!reader

•Masterlist•

The club was in trouble needing to hide away from the Mayans, they were getting too brazen and staying at the club house would only make everyone a target in one place and they could risk that, sitting in Jax’s living room everyone’s stressed about what’s going to happen, where they’ll go that the Mayans don’t already know about

“We can’t stay in any of our homes, everyone knows where we live they’ve made that clear” Tigs states

“Then where the hell are we suppose to go?” Jax shouts, always a hot head

Happy stands in the corner with an internal battle, between helping his club or risking putting the secret he’s worked so hard to keep it that…..a secret

But the more he realizes there’s no other option he’s the only one with a place safe for this family

“I have a place” he says breaking through the fighting and everyone turns to him

“Where?” Chibs asks

“Everyone has to go in the two vans, can’t draw attention with the bikes, you’ll follow me and no one will speak a word of this place understood” everyone was shocked, happy wasn’t one for many words and the anger in his words they realized this must be serious so the agree and piles into the two vans, driving for a while through the town until they reach the outskirts of town pulling up to a nice little house, cozy and quaint, the opposite of Happy

“Where the hell are we man” Jax asks making happy turn to him with a glare

“Wait here” he jumps out and doesn’t stop to knock just walks in, leaving everyone in both vans utterly confused for about ten minutes till happy comes out the door waving everyone in

“What the hell are we walking into” Bobby says to the guys as they walk up the stairs into the house

“Shoes off” happy grunts with his arms crossed

“Seriously?” Juice adds and one look from happy has them all kicking their boots off at the door, they all look around, brown walls with decor that didn’t really match the way Happy showed himself to them

“So are we gonna be kept in the dark forever or are you gonna tell us what this place is” Tigs says

“I’ll tell you but none of you can say a word about this place when we leave, and what you see” from around the corner comes a beautiful woman, in a long sun dress that flowed around her showing off her big baby bump

Holding a plate of brownies she smiles laying them on the coffee table as the guys stand stunned when she comes to stand next to Happy, this man they’ve known to exude danger and darkness, a contrast to the happy glow she had around her

“It’s nice to finally meet you all, happy talks a lot about you guys” happy smirks wrapping his arm around her waist resting his hand on her bump

“Everyone this is y/n my wife”

“Wife? And we weren’t invited?” Tigs says absolutely stunned

“Since when? We didn’t even know about her” Jax added

“7 years!” She says lifting her hand showing her subtle but beautiful wedding ring, matching the gold ring on Happys hand just not big and manly like his

“Shite I don’t know what to say” Chibs adds as everyone sits around in the living room, happy taking his usual spot in the recliner with her in his lap, everyone not being able to take their eyes off her

“She’s beautiful isn’t she” happy smirks feeling lucky he got to her first

“Got that right, and you have a baby on the way” juice asks

“Yup any day now, Harley and Crue are antsy to meet her” she smiled as she rubs her bump

“And they are?” At the question a little boy and girl aged 5 comes running from the back door giggling and when they see all the strange men sitting in their home they’re confused and a bit nervous

Harley turns to her twin brother and wraps her arms around him and he protectively holds her close

Y/n gets up and kneels infront of them

“These are daddy’s friends they’re going to be staying her for a while, they may look scary but they’re very nice okay! Now go welcome daddy home” they visibly relax when she mentions their dad and they nod and run over jumping on his lap

Crue looked just like Happy but with brown wavy hair, Harley had his eyes

“These are our twins!” Y/n says as she sits in the arm rest

“We missed you daddy” Harley giggles when happy tickles her tummy

“Missed you too Angel, was your brother chasing you around again?” Crue laughs giving Harley a look at they’re off running and screaming through the hallways going to play in their room

“Shit man you sure can keep a secret” Bobby says

“They’re beautiful lassy” Chibs says to her and she smiles

“Why didn’t you tell us Hap? We’re your family”

“Exactly, the shit we’re a part of can’t risk bringing that home, you’ve seen what’s happened to Tara and the boys, even you Chibs, I can’t risk the woman I love, the three innocent children I have”

She runs her hand over his cheek gently looking into his hypnotizing eyes

“We get it brother”

“It doesn’t bother you, being kept a secret?” Juice asks her

“Not so much, of course with how much my dear husband talks about you guys I’ve wanted to meet the crew but I also want my children safe and as long as I have him I don’t care that we’re his little secret” she smirks when happy pulls her into a kiss

“It’s weird seeing him like this, completely whipped and domestic” tigs adds making happy groan

“Trust me he shows me his crazy side” she says making the guys burst out laughing

“You’re a lucky man Happy”

“Very” he says looking at her like she’s his whole world because in all aspects she is

•

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980

[luvseisagi]

— two years late.

read part 1 here.

ft. itoshi sae x reader. wc. 5.7k

summary. after two years apart, the call you thought would never come finally did. content. gn!reader, no pronouns used, reader wears makeup. even more angst and even less comfort (sorry), right person wrong time, childhood friends to strangers, miscommunication. aged up characters, sae and reader are twenty, rin is eighteen. sae might be a bit ooc and has issues. author's note. there was like a FULL power outage in my country today i was isolated completely alone in my house with no light no cooked food no electricity no internet connection for HOURS. SUFFERING.. so i wrote this - it was actually supposed to be shorter than the first one?? and it's twice as long?? i like writing angst too much i fear.

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) ! enjoy

rin

did u arrive alr? mom says u have to pack everything u wanna keep before we come back give it two hours or so

sae sighs, the messages on his phone too bright for his liking. he has just arrived home from a twelve-hour-long flight and a painfully slow ride from the airport. the last thing he wants to do right now is start packing his old room’s things.

“sure” he types back, before shutting off his phone and throwing it onto the bed. his relationship with his little brother isn’t as bad now —sae is twenty and rin eighteen—, but he still gets slightly annoyed when they talk over text. only it isn’t exactly annoyance, but a cluster of unpacked feelings and regrets he never learned to express. 

not to his brother, at least. not to anyone in his life, since —well. since you and him weren’t friends anymore.

sae shakes his head in annoyance, as if a physical movement could somehow make the thoughts disappear. he leaves his suitcase in a corner of his room, still closed, near the window whose blinds he hasn’t bothered to raise yet. the jacket is lost somewhere in the pile of clothes cluttering the messy living room —it isn’t usually like this, his family has someone help with the cleaning daily. however, since they’re moving to a bigger house, his parents didn’t care at all if the common rooms stayed untidy. they just wanted to move out as fast as possible.

at first, he hadn’t understood why. sure, it was a matter of time before they bought a bigger, more expensive house —specially now that sae had just turned twenty and gotten signed for the actual re al team, and not the u20 one, and rin was considered the star of his generation, next to his always friend-and-rival isagi yoichi—, but why the rush? 

he had just come back from spain, again, and they were already pushing him to pack up and leave the only place where he had lived the memories he actually treasured.

it was unfair for him to think that way, though —him, who had been the first to abandon said place, and said memories, not once but twice. 

and that’s why now, standing alone in the gloom of his old room, he understands. because he isn’t the type of getting attached to things, people, places, or anything that has nothing to do with football, and he doesn’t really care about living in a big apartment or even a bigger house, but he feels the urge to run away from the moment he sets foot inside his old room.

instead of a bunk bed, there is now a big double bed his parents had ordered when he came back from spain the first time, two years ago. next to it, there’s a wide closet that takes up almost the entire left wall. and in the corner near the window, there’s the custom-made glass shelf they gave him when he was younger —which quickly filled up with trophies and awards from his high school years—. 

right beside it, there’s a dark wood desk he never really used —he didn’t like studying—, that would be empty if not for the pile of colorful envelopes sitting on top of it. 

his thought process is fast: if he lies down on the bed now, he will fall asleep for more than the two hours their parents are going to take before coming home. the trophies are valuable for him, but he isn’t on the mood to remember all the matches and competitions that they carry, and there are too many memories stuffed inside his closet that he doesn't want to dig up now.

so he walks to his desk, and he sits on the chair in front of the pile of letters.

they’re letters from fans, he remembers. his manager had dropped them off two years ago, a few days after rin left for the blue lock project. when he was younger, he would usually read all —or almost all, at least until he got bored— of the letters he received. his favorites were always the ones written by little kids telling him how he inspired them. 

he never really thought he could ever make an actual impact in japan’s football scene, but those kind of letters reminded him of his little brother, so he did appreciate receiving them.

it’s weird he hadn’t read these, considering most of the envelopes are pink, blue, or orange, and his manager’s address —the one published for receiving fanmail— is adorned with little hearts, flowers, and football balls. it’s pretty obvious most of them were written by kids.

he’s just about to open the first envelope —a dark pink one, similar to the color of his hair, adorned with little spirals, hearts, and a doodle he thinks it’s supposed to resemble him— when he remembers why he didn’t read them back then.

reality hits him like a punch straight to the stomach, and his chest feels suddenly so heavy he needs to close his eyes and focus on breathing. 

the shouting. the blame. the unanswered questions. he remembers everything, second by second.

the regrets. the indifference. the anger and the sadness. and you, crying so loudly you couldn’t even talk, sitting in the same chair he’s sitting in now.

he had been about to read the letters right before your argument —the first and last time you came to his house, after four years separated by thousands of kilometers, two continents and one ocean —, and he hadn’t had the strength to read anything after you left.

because the first thing you had said to him was “why did you say all those awful things to rin?”

not i missed you, or i’m really happy to see you. not even a hi, sae, but a question about his brother —which he knew he was important for you too, of course, but you were his best friend, not rin’s. sae should had been your first priority, not his brother.

the next thing he knew, you were shouting at him, blaming him for something he wasn’t even aware he had done. rin had a full breakdown because of their silly encounter that first day? he had just been being a big brother, telling him the truth —it was better if it was him, and not the big world outside, who taught him a lesson. 

but rin hadn’t understood that, apparently. and neither had you.

he had entered the autopilot mode —the same one he used while in interviews, or irrelevant social events in madrid— right after you mentioned rin. he barely even remembers what he told you now, what he answered or what he tried to explain. back then, the only thought of his mind was that you were standing right in front of him —taller, your features more mature, and somehow even prettier than you already were— and you hand’t even brought yourself to hug him yet. 

sae opens his eyes. 

yn’s not here. he thinks, repeating it to himself as a prayer, as if his words could make your ghost disappear from the room. there’s no one but me here. i’m alone.

again.

he lifts his head, feeling slightly dizzy after nearly choking in the waterfall of memories that just flooded him. i’m here alone, he tells himself once more, knowing full well he must look insane right now.

because he’s lying. you’re there. you’re everywhere.

you’re lying on his bed, even though you never actually had time to sleep in there —back when the old bunk bed he shared with Rin still stood in the room—, and you’re laughing in whispers while trying to decipher what rin’s dreaming about. 

you’re sitting on the floor, struggling to explain him a math problem for the twelfth time, annoyed because he insists on kicking a ball instead of paying attention to you. 

you’re almost drowning in a mountain of clothes, his room a runway while you try on his football jersey with a long skirt you stole from his mother. 

and you’re standing in front of the shelf, pretending to ask about each trophy —even though you knew exactly which belonged to which victory, because you had been there for every single one.

you’re also where he is now, sitting by the desk, your trembling hands playing with the colorful envelopes, fighting your urge to cry. 

but your voice —it sounds broken; and he knows he lost you way before you slammed the door and left his house forever, your jacket sleeve stained with the makeup you tried to wipe away and your lips pressed tight as if you were about to throw up your heart.

and still, everything on his room is so him he doesn't even understand why it's reminding him of you.

the only thing that anchors him to the real world right now, he thinks, are the envelopes on top of his desk. he tries to control his breathing, he tries to focus his gaze, and his hands are nearly shaking when he plunges his hand in the pile of letters. he doesn’t know why he clings to one, but he pulls it out of the pile and stares at it, the tips of his fingers brushing over the messy star drawn on the paper.

and suddenly he stops.

then he wonders.

he wonders why there's a letter on his hands, and why does it have your handwriting in it. 

for sae, and nothing else. there’s no address, which means no one sent it to his manager, and he knows it's yours, because he still recognizes your handwriting —and because even though all his fan letters have hearts drawn around his name and brightly colored envelopes, you're the only one who would have chosen the exact shade of teal of his eyes and the drawing of a star instead of the a in his name. 

he can't understand why his hands are practically shaking when he frantically tears the flap open, and he can't swallow the lump that forms in his throat as he reads the sentences written in black ink by a hand that seems unsure of itself. 

your handwriting is so familiar that his heart skips a beat, and now he doesn’t know if it’s because of sadness, regret, nostalgia or the excitement of having a piece of you in his hands again. 

as he reads, sae realizes when exactly you wrote that letter —since there’s no date to be seen anywhere. it looks like you had been trying to start writing something to him more than once, but your words never felt natural enough to express everything you wanted to tell him. not until he came back, and had an argument with rin.

in the letter, you tell him you expect a reasonable answer as for what happened with his brother, but that’s everything you mention about him. the rest of the message —three full pages of messy handwriting and some mistakes you crossed out with the pen—, talks about everything he wanted to hear that day. 

you wondered about his life in spain, you told him some stories he knew already —because you always went to him when you wanted to talk about your day—, and you kept telling him, over and over, how much you had missed for the past four years.

sae chuckles, reading every word with your sometimes excited, sometimes bored, sometimes indignant voice in his head. you are so cute, he thinks, caressing the sheet of paper without realizing it. 

“by the way,” the letter said, halfway through second page “do you remember that time you played against that other team of spain while i was in a sleepover, and i stayed awake just to congratulate you for scoring the winning goal? i was in a friend’s house, and everyone was asleep already but i watched the end of the match on my phone under the blankets.”

a small smile grows on his face. of course he remembers, your friends’ complaints were the background noise of the audios you had sent him after the match. you were, what, fifteen years back then? sixteen, maybe?

“well, the conversation was a bit embarrassing so i’m not going to tell you, but basically, i realized that i like you that night.”

sae stops reading for a second.

what?

the words resonate in his mind, unearthing a feeling whose funeral had already been celebrated years ago. 

he takes a deep breath before continuing to read, but the letter only gets heavier. 

you’re telling him how you realized it, what you liked about him, why you felt this weird feeling —one you would later learn was jealousy—, whenever you saw your friends happy in their relationships. for two whole years before you wrote that letter, you had been carrying the weight of discovering what a first love felt like.

and said first love was him.

sae’s world falls down. 

he doesn’t cry just yet, but he feels himself on the verge of tears right after reading your last sentence. 

“ps: for the sake of my dignity, i really hope you’re reading this in the airplane back to spain, or in your apartment in madrid, ‘cause i don’t think i could stand looking at you in your eyes knowing that you read this. however, please, call me when you read it —it doesn’t matter if you feel the same way or not, you don’t need to mention it. just call me, tell me how your flight was, complain about your manager and everything he’s making you do, if you must. but tell me something, please. 

i missed you, and i love you. and no ocean could ever drown that.”

sae freezes for three long seconds, his body static from pure shock, before practically throwing himself onto his bed, searching for his phone. he feels like he’s dying during the time it takes for the device to turn on, and he types his passwords as fast as his fingers allow before clicking on the contacts app. 

your name shines so bright in his screen he swears he could go blind, but this doesn’t stop him from staring. he gulps, nervous, and presses the call button under your profile pic —still you, when you were seventeen and asleep on his bed with his jersey as a pajamas.

the phone rings three times before someone picks up on the other end.

he doesn’t say anything at first, waiting for you to talk. his heart is beating so hard he can hear it, so loud it’s deafening, but the silence on the other side is even deeper, pushing the sound of his heart to the background. his expectations have never been higher, as well as his anxiety —creeping from his legs to his stomach, his chest, his arms and finally reaching the hand holding the phone.

“hello?”

he almost jumps when a voice that is definitely not yours comes through the phone.

sae hangs up so fast his mind barely processes it before he's staring at your name and your profile picture again. could you have changed your number? no, unlikely. as far as he knows, you still keep in touch with his parents, and his mother would have messaged him in an instant to give him your new number, even if she knew he wouldn’t use it. —she loved you like family; as she used to say when you were younger, you would definitely end up part of it if one of her sons was smart enough to wife you up.

so why did a man’s voice answer his call?

grabbing his phone with both hands, staring so hard it might break from it, sae lets his body fall back onto the bed. he stays there for a few seconds, your peaceful, sleeping face on the screen almost seeming to blame him for disturbing the peace you always had when you were together —by calling a number that was forgotten, forbidden.

when his brother had sent him that picture back then, he had felt a very weird, very unusual feeling forming in his chest. 

jealousy, maybe, because there was nothing he wanted more than being with you and rin right now. hurt, probably, since he had been living in spain for almost three whole years now, and he missed you two a lot. 

love, he concludes now, because he realized long ago that he loved you — he just never let himself think about it long enough to understand those feelings.

You were too far away, he told himself every time he thought of you like that — and there was no point in trying to tie you down when you were living your best life, being everyone's crush, having normal teen experiences with your new friends.

but how did he not know you loved him too?

before letting himself get lost inside his memories and regrets again, his thumb presses the call button once more. this is your number, he’s sure of it, and if he the guy that answered was with you in any kind of way… well, that’s something you would have to tell him yourself.

“hi? yn?”

he finally gathers the courage to be the one to do the talking first, but his voice is almost a whisper when he pronounces your name, each syllable soft after leaving his lips. 

it’s the first time he’s said it out loud in two years.

“hi, uh, sae?”

sae sighs, relieved, and he closes his eyes as he hears your voice. his head rests on one of the pillows, one hand holding the phone, the other on his chest, now breathing at a normal pace. he can’t stop the small grin spreading on his face.

then he remembers: you answered the phone, so it’s his turn to talk.

i missed you, he wants to say first, but discards it —might be too much. i’m happy to hear your voice, is another option, but perhaps too straightforward. how are you? seems right, or so he believes —no one taught him how to start a conversation with his lost childhood best friend before. he wants to appear casual, yes, but he also wants to show that he cares.

he has it all so clear in his head, he surprises himself when he suddenly speaks, his brain too slow to process his words before they spill from his mouth.

“i read your letter.” is what he says instead.

on the other side of the line, you frown, not expecting a call from him at all. not now, at least.

“what letter?” you ask, genuinely confused. you don’t remember sending anyone a letter, much less sending one to itoshi sae. 

he is so famous now, much more than what he was back when you two were still friends. even if you tried to send him something, you doubt he would have ever receive it.

you could have given it to him through his parents, though. through rin, now that their relationship was back to normal —you think, at least. ever since he was signed in the japan’s u20 team, you barely kept in touch.

a little smile grows on your face, not sweet, but bitter. nostalgia tracing your lips, and memories invading your chest.

sae speaks again.

"the one you wrote me two years ago. i never read it until now.”

reality hits you then. oh, that letter. the one you poured your soul and heart into at seventeen, when you thought your life would end if he read it. 

sure thing, you were wrong. your life didn’t end because he read it — it ended because he never did.

you stay quiet, half-hoping your silence is torturous for him. you have no words, anyway —how could you expect to receive the call you dreamed of, the one that kept you up at nights and anxious every morning, two years later?

so sae, desperate to fill the silence, starts talking again —words rushing out so fast you wonder if you’ll even be able to keep up.

"i thought you hated me and thats why you didn’t call or come back to my house after the argument" he says. his voice sounds weird, raspy, like he’s choking in his words —on his feelings, really, the guilt twisting him up inside.

"i thought you got on rin's side after we argued, and i thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore after you left my house crying.” still laying on the bed, his posture the same as minutes ago, sae feels his chest tighten with every word he says. a whirlwind of memories, regrets and nostalgia, and unsaid feelings tearing him apart, from his heart to his head —his rationality, too, as he seems to be unable to stop talking.

“i never took your letter to spain and i never read it till now —didn’t even know it was yours, it got messed up with some of the fan mail. i found it today, in my desk—, and i was so angry back then, because you didn’t come to say goodbye when i went back to madrid after the u20 match.” he speaks in a rush, thoughts unfiltered, pouring straight from his heart to his mouth “it felt unfair, having strangers write me letters, tell me they would miss me, when the only person I wanted to hear it from was you.”

he falls silent after that, expecting an answer.

since you are saying nothing back, he keeps talking. 

meanwhile, you can only think it is so not sae, speaking this much, having the need to explain himself —no one had, never in his life, asked him to justify his actions. so why is he so desperate for you to understand him? 

he feels the urge to say sorry —worse, even. he feels the need for you to forgive him.

so he doesn’t stop.

“i… i’m sorry for not taking your letter to spain. and i’m sorry for not reading it, and not calling you.” he exhales, voice breaking slightly “i expected you to reach out first, but since you didn’t, i thought…”

“that is not your fault” you finally say, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

you hate hearing him like that —so vulnerable, so hurt. you had dreamed of this call for a long time, wanting it, for a while, to be this dramatic and intense. but not anymore. two long years have passed, and your mourning had ended a while ago. 

“i was the foolish one” you say softly “for thinking you would read all the letters and find mine there. but that’s fine now, i was a dumb teenager, in love with a famous football player who lived on the other side of the planet. it sounds like a cliché fanfic trope” you chuckle “what was i expecting?” 

your voice is calm, and even your posture, sitting in the sofa on your living room, is composed too. you are able to control the lump of feelings forming in your throat —you are not lying when saying you were the naive one. yes, it was the most hurtful heartbreak of your life, but you had gotten over it already.

“i am really sorry, yn.” sae sighed, his eyes closed again, tightly pressed together as if afraid of letting a rebellious tear scape. “i’m sorry i disappointed you.” 

and when you hear these words, you know he’s hurting. you know he is because, even though he never got the courage to say it out loud, that’s always been his biggest fear—disappointing people. 

he was scared of not being good enough at football —he was a prodigy in japan, but he had to train for what he thought it would be natural for him once he started playing in spain—. he was terrified of failing at being good older brother —he had always taken good care of rin. why, when he was just trying to protect him, did he make his relationship worse? 

and deep down, he hated the thought of not being good for you, too —which, he thinks bitterly, he wasn’t, either. he waited for you to come to him and say him goodbye, waited for you to text him or call him or tell him you missed him instead of doing it himself, when he was the one dying to hear your voice again.

“look, sae, i…” 

you don’t know what else to say, anyway, because he did disappoint you, but you can’t just tell him the truth. he would not be able to handle it —you had always thought that he would, but you weren’t so sure right now.

“it might be a bit late for the call” he says, swallowing hard. the words taste metallic on his tongue, just like blood, and he’s saying them out loud before he can bite his lips and shut up “but i think you have the right to know that i loved you t-“

you cut him off in an instant.

“sae” 

his name in your mouth sounds like a warning, a plea, and a cry all at once. however, you don’t give yourself enough time to analyze each of them —he has, finally, nothing else to say. he’s run out of excuses to tell you, to fix a huge mistake he had made without even realizing it.

you summon the courage to keep talking.

“i have a boyfriend now” 

sae’s chest freezes for a second, his breath getting stuck in his throat after hearing your words. he mutters an oh, but he can’t bring himself to say nothing else.

“that guy from maths, in high school.” you tell him, as if talking could somehow fix the awkward silence between you two “the one who had a crush on me when we shared that class. he’s studying the same degree as i am, and we got paired up for a group project not so long ago. i guess he never gave up liking me, and, well, when he asked me again, there was nothing stopping me from dating him.”

it is not until you finish your last sentence that you realize how cruel you have just been —until now, the only thing stopping your for dating him was precisely sae. and he knows that.

you haven’t said it on purpose, really, but for a moment, you wonder if sae is feeling what you felt the day you two argued. if he is now discovering the effect he has on people when he’s being rude. unintentionally, but rude anyway.

you stay in silence a while longer, waiting for him to say something —it’s not like you don’t care about what he was saying, or feeling, when you interrupted him; but two years later, really? a lot has happened since you two were eighteen, and it is true you have a boyfriend. it doesn’t really matter what he tells you now.

"i'm sorry, yn.” he finally says, voice soft under his, for some reason, shaky and uneven breath —could it be that this conversation is actually affecting him? “i’m sorry for not reading your letter. and for saying sorry now. and for not telling you that i loved you when i should have." 

those last words make you feel your heart break, just a bit, just a crack —only enough for a tear to fall from it through your eyes and down your cheek. 

"im sorry too, sae. but you are late for that”

then there’s silence again. neither of you says nothing for a while, but neither of you hangs up. for a few seconds, him laying on his bed and you sitting on your sofa, it feels like you are together again. rin’s superhero cartoons in the television, sae’s arm over your shoulders and your head against his neck. he would say something about his practice, and you would detangle his dark pink bangs from his long black eyelashes, then laugh at the face he made whenever you touch his hair.

everything was so easy when you were still kids, practically living in the same house three days a week —when his brother and you shared first place on things he loved, alongside football, not after it.

you sigh, escaping the bubble you had gotten in. you couldn’t blame football, practice, or matches at all —it was what distanced sae and rin, but it had nothing to with you. 

it was loving him what changed everything for you two, you think. or, at least, being such a coward you were never able to tell him. or maybe it was nostalgia. or anger. or lack of communication.

you would never know now.

the silence is mortifying. sae is the one who breaks it.

"nothing would have changed, though.” he whispers suddenly. you’re sure he’s holding the phone close to his face, for how his voice sounds, and you are right —still lying on his bed, sae lays on his side, one hand under the pillow and the other loosely playing with the sheets. the phone is on the pillow too, near to his lips, which talk very softly. “you know that, right?” 

you wonder if he’s aware he’s sounding a bit mean again, even if he’s whispering.

“i mean, you were just about to start your dream degree at college and i was centered in my football career in spain, so even if i had read the letter before and i had called you, probably nothing would have changed at all” he’s biting his lip now, curled upon his bed, as if you were kids again, telling each other secrets under the sheets. “maybe it was for the better.”

you can’t help it but chuckle. this is so sae, trying to fix something with the right intentions but the wrong words. 

he was never good at comforting people, honestly, but no one, not even you, had ever told him that —the fact that his words are always true doesn't mean they can't hurt, and that’s something he never understood.

maybe he thinks you are immune to them now, now that you have a new boyfriend and, apparently, your dream life. but it does hurt anyway.

"i would have waited for you" you confess, throwing another sharp truth to him. you hear him swallow the lump in his throat "but it doesn’t matter now, does it?” 

on the other side of the line, sae presses his lips together, and sighs silently. he doesn’t even react to your sarcasm —of course you would have waited for him. of course he would have waited for you, too. 

and well, you have a boyfriend now, but it’s the guy you had been complaining about for weeks on facetime when you were younger, at very late hours in japan and very early hours in spain. and it might be selfish for sae to think this, but you couldn’t like your boyfriend that much if it had taken him more than four years to get a yes from you.

so maybe, after clearing the feelings between you two, you could fix the friendship you had —and had lost— during his time in spain. maybe he could... 

“would you like to hang out sometime?” he asked boldly, voice now louder and less of a whisper. his idea had potential, he thought “my family's moving out, you could come and visit the old house before we sell it, to say your goodbyes —you have memories here too.” 

your heart shrinks a little bit again,

“no, sae, i told you already. it's too late.” you try to portray a composed image, voice calm, but the distress is noticeable in your voice anyway. maybe sae hasn’t done it on purpose, but nostalgia is your weak point, and he knows that. “you are too late.”

so you don’t wait for him to say anything more before hanging up the phone. you were on edge already, a knot tightening more and more around your heart, tears piling up under your lashes. 

he has no idea how hard it was for you to move on, not just because of the distance, but because of the silence. the silence he had left when he left, and which stopped being a painful void only to become a wall between you two.

you throw your phone to the carpet of the living room; your boyfriend, still inside the bathroom, completely unaware of the state you are in —tears falling uncontrollably down your cheeks, breath uncoordinated and hard to swallow, hand covering your mouth as if, just like in a very vivid memory, you were about to throw up your heart.

of course you had spent two whole years trying to get over your first love just because itoshi sae had not recognized the envelope you’d left on his desk the last time you went to his house, and he had mixed it up with his fan’s letters. of course he hadn’t read any of them at all, because he didn’t care about his fans’ thoughts of him the way he cared about your goodbye, which he thought he would never get.

of course he hadn’t forgotten about you, and he didn’t hate you —he loved you, how could he not? and he had been scared of telling you because he thought you were the one angry at him. 

your trembling lips exhale a long sigh, and you wipe away your tears, staining your hoodie with your now-smudged makeup. you can’t help it but laugh at the irony.

of course you forgive him for everything, because you still love him. 

at least a little bit. even if you have a new boyfriend and a new whole life and you've spent drunken nights trying to forget him and rainy evenings missing him like crazy. 

in the end, seems like he loved you, too. you wonder if it was fate what didn’t allow you to be together —sae was right, though, distance was difficult and your lives way too different for a relationship to have worked. but who knows, you think. you believed, religiously, for so many years, that sae was the person made for you —it doesn’t feel real realizing that he might have thought that before, too.

you sigh, closing your eyes and hugging one of your cushions. you have no more tears to cry.

if only he hadn’t read the letter two years late.

masterlist.

tags ౨ৎ @princesssae .ᐟ

pls lmk what u think in the comments, reblogging, through messages, asks or wtv!! feedback is important to me in these first posts and i'd appreciate it a lot 🤲🏼

﹫luvseisagi, april 2025.

[wasteful-sam]

Only the moon bore witness to his yearning [18+]

Tags: Rolan/f!Tav, solo, mast***tion, shameless smut.

Words: 1,228

Notes: Thank you so much, @bloodsuckingfiends, for your beautifully written post! It planted a tadpole-shaped hyperfixation into my brain and I had to extract it as soon as possible.

Well, now we know that Rolan's passion doesn't end with magic - he has found another perfect use for his skilled hands. (˶º⤙º˶)

The f!Tav's race in the story is unspecified, so it's easier for you, dear readers, to imagine your OC in their place. 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: Overtaken by his desperate longing for Tav, Rolan seeks refuge in one of the secluded rooms of the Last Light Inn. Unable to resist the vivid fantasies haunting his mind, he has no choice but to pleasure himself, letting his desires take complete control.

He absolutely judges me for all the slander I've put him through in this shortfic.

[AO3]

The moon had already ascended above the Last Light Inn when Rolan burst into one of its unoccupied rooms. The tiefling looked frantically across the humble, crammed lodging - he must be absolutely sure there was not a single soul here to disturb him.

The chances of anyone occupying this area were slim to none. Hidden neatly on the inn's top floor, the dusty room only contained the most basic necessities: a flimsy wooden chair, a low cupboard, and a small but neatly made bed.

Wheezing heavily, Rolan locked the door behind him. Back pressed against it, he slowly descended on the floor. The tiefling drank heavily tonight, overjoyed by the rescue of his brother and sister from the Moonrise Towers earlier. But no amount of cheap wine could drown his insatiable hunger.

Evidently, something else mercilessly bothered Rolan - his lustful thoughts of Tav.

A single, humorous interaction with her turned the wizard into a bumbling, aroused mess of a man desperate for a release. He fought the feeling throughout the night, seeking distractions in meaningless small talk. But it was all in vain - Rolan was about to succumb to his primal needs.

Vision blurred, the tiefling murmured, "What a pathetic display," imagining how flustered and eager he must've looked at this very moment. His golden eyes glimmered wildly, fueled by the thrill of erotic fantasies that overcame him. Rolan began quickly unlacing his trousers, accepting that he must take care of his needs. Right here. Right now.

Enveloped by lust, the tiefling's mind drifted to the final conversation with Tav while his trembling hand was freeing his aching flesh.

It happened during a small celebration for the captives' return - Tav approached Cal, Lia, and Rolan. Being in a rare playful mood, the wizard greeted her with a sarcastic drawl, "I thanked you once already, don't be greedy."

A soft chuckle left her lips when Tav replied, "And if I ask nicely?"

The look she gave him after - a little challenging, a little coy, paired with that beautiful, genuine smile. A simple memory of it made Rolan's half-hard length twitch. The tiefling let out a shuddering breath as his right hand curled around its tip, slowly messaging sensitive ridges below it.

Tav laughed right after it, teasing that she just wanted to see a confused look on the wizard's face. Rolan regretted that he couldn't come up with a response back then - he knew a way or two to thank her properly.

Instead, he could only trail Tav across the room with his hungry gaze. Dressed in simple camp attire rather than her usual armor, she revealed tantalizing glimpses of smooth, radiant skin that seemed to glow in the dim light of the inn.

Rolan huffed, imagining how he would bend Tav over the bar, tearing those clothes ferociously. The thought of pressing hot, desperate kisses along her lips and neck drove him mad. Rolan shoved his clawed fingers into his mouth, sucking and biting at them impatiently while his hand stroked his throbbing cock.

His hips thrust in unison with his needy hand movements. A shameless, loud moan left his throat at a wild image of Tav swallowing his length. Thinking how hot and wet it must feel inside of her made the tiefling salivate even more. Rolan released his fingers from his mouth with a ringing pop. He gently rubbed his saliva all over his sensitive tip, just for a slight chance it would feel as good as if she was licking it instead.

If Tav could see him right now, would she be as aroused? The idea of her watching him - a moaning mess, his hairdo tousled, face glistening with sweat, body shivering in pleasure - sent a jolt down Rolan's spine. The tiefling's grip on his flesh tightened, fingers tracing over its swollen veins and ridges.

"Please, open your sweet mouth for me," he whispered in exhaustion, picturing Tav kneeling before him, rubbing her plump lips teasingly all over his pulsating cock, smudging his precum all over her pretty cheeks. The wizard's free hand slid underneath his shirt, grabbing and clawing at his chest. No, in his mind, it was her hand caressing him ecstatically, praising his stature and ridges, as she touched her soaking folds.

Her soaking folds. Just a thought of it made Rolan's breathing twice as heavy, his core ready to burst. The wizard's tongue slid hungrily against the inside of his mouth, imagining the taste of her - sweet, heady, addictive. He'd give away everything he owned just to bury his tongue inside her, to drown in her honeyed heat while she screamed his name over and over and over again.

But it wasn't enough. Rolan's hand couldn't replicate what his fantasies demanded. He needed more - needed to fuck Tav raw, to bury himself deep inside her heat until he lost his mind.

Panting heavily, Rolan stumbled to the old bed. Luckily, the mattress was still sturdy enough. Afraid to lose the moment of spiraling pleasure, the tiefling hastily curled his tail around his core, its grip tight. Rolan's hand was around his flushed, leaking tip again, stroking and teasing it as he pressed into the mattress.

"Be as greedy as you want," the wizard rasped, imagining Tav bare underneath him, her folds quivering in anticipation.

He began thrusting wildly up and down the mattress, biting at his other hand to muffle the inadequate moans that his drunk, lustful mind conjured. The wizard gave up on being discreet pretty soon, as his hand needed to grab a pillow to steady his ecstasy-shivered body.

His tip was twitching uncontrollably, seeking Tav's tight, wet slit.

Rolan breathed sharply, trying to recall her smell: a mix of sun-warmed leather, wild lilies, and a campfire. Oh, how nicely it would match with his own musk - he'd rub his whole body against hers to let the smell of their passion linger on her for days.

His tail now ground uncontrollably all around his length, trying desperately to keep up with his quick thrusting. Seeking even more friction, Rolan pressed his hand around it, his grip tight and aggressive. The tiefling's head has fallen onto the pillow as his back arched, mouth agape, trying to catch air. The pillow got quickly drenched with sweat and saliva, as he was no longer able to control his jaw, overtaken by ecstasy. His hand and tail were now moving with no direction, desperate for a release.

His mind went into a frenzy, throwing the most lude images at Rolan: him biting at her nipples, her lustful expression as she whimpered underneath him, his bulging cock pounding into her quivering walls.

"You are mine," the tiefling growled as the final vision emerged: him spilling his seed deep inside her, claiming her completely.

The final thought finally made him succumb to a shuttering orgasm, spreading his hot release all over his hand and tail. Exhausted, Rolan plopped flat into the bed, panting restlessly. His hand lazily smeared the mess along his length, already coaxing himself toward a second round. There was one thing about the future Master of Ramazith's Tower that he was too embarrassed to admit: once set ablaze by his fantasies, Rolan could pleasure himself for hours without end.

Taking a moment to rest, Rolan opened a window to let in some fresh air. Only the moon bore witness to his yearning.

[itsmerelliwellie]

Please Don't Be Scared Of Me | Sakamoto Days

How Sakamoto Days characters handle you being scared of them because of their job

Characters: Shin Asakura, Yoichi Nagumo, Seba Brothers, Gaku, Heisuke Mashimo

---

A/N: Hope you like this one OwO

---

~~Shin Asakura~~

When you pull away from him with that wide-eyed fear, it hits him like a ton of bricks. He hears it in your thoughts before you even speak it. “He's dangerous... what if he snaps?"

Shin freezes. His heart pounds, not because you’re wrong—he has killed people—but because you’re terrified of him, not what he’s done. That distinction shatters something inside.

“You think I’d ever hurt you?” he asks softly, voice cracking a little as he gently lowers his hand, like even touching you would confirm your fears.

He gives you space. Too much space. For days, he barely meets your gaze, too afraid of what he’ll hear in your mind again.

Eventually, he breaks, sitting outside your room like some kicked puppy. “I’ve done terrible things,” he admits. “But if I could hear just one thought from you where you trusted me again… I’d do anything for that.”

When you finally reach out, saying, “I just needed time to process,” he leans into your touch like a dying man given water. He whispers, “Then take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’ll never stop being protective—but he’s more careful now, more open. And when you finally kiss him, hands trembling, he doesn’t read your mind. He wants to feel your trust the human way.

---

~~Yoichi Nagumo~~

He laughs it off at first. “You scared of me? Babe, I’m the guy who brings you takeout and clips your cat’s nails.”

But when you flinch at the sound of his knife clicking open, everything stops. His expression drops like a mask falling away.

“You know, I pretend a lot,” he says, almost too casually. “Happy-go-lucky, pretty-boy hitman. But pretending you’re not afraid of me? That one really hurt.”

He disappears for a day or two. Not because he’s angry, but because he needs to figure out if being in your life is actually hurting you more than helping.

When he comes back, it’s late. Rain clings to him. He crawls into your bed fully clothed, laying next to you with his back to yours. “I never wanted you to see that part of me,” he murmurs. “But if you’d rather see the truth than love a lie, I’ll show you everything.”

He opens up like never before. About his past, about how much of it he regrets, about how every time he holds a blade. He thinks of what he could lose.

And when you finally touch his face and say, “I trust you,” his smirk returns, slower this time. “Then I’ll treasure that trust because you have no idea how much it matters to me."

---

~~Natsuki Seba~~

He gets quiet—scary quiet—when you recoil from his smile after hearing a story about one of his past missions.

“So it’s finally come to this, huh?” he says, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them slowly. “The moment when you realize I’m a monster.”

But there’s no bite in his voice—just exhaustion. He’s used to being seen as a weapon, a tool, a successful test subject. But he thought you saw him as human.

He doesn’t beg. Doesn’t plead. Just... slowly starts building walls. Talking to you only when necessary, pulling all-nighters again, isolating himself in data and chemicals.

When you confront him, saying, “I was scared, not disgusted,” he doesn’t believe you. Not at first. “You wouldn’t be the first to lie to me,” he mutters.

You finally break through when you patch up a wound he didn’t even ask you to touch. “You’re still you,” you whisper. And he grabs your wrist—hard—not to stop you, but because he’s shaking.

That night, he kisses you like a dying man. Desperate, soft, and scared. “If I scare you again,” he says, forehead pressed to yours, “tell me. I’d rather break myself apart than lose you.”

---

~~Mafuyu Seba~~

It’s a knife to the chest when you say, “I don’t know who you are anymore.” And Mafuyu just… smiles. Like he was expecting this.

“You were the one good thing I didn’t have to earn,” he says coldly. “Guess I got that wrong too.”

He shuts down completely. Barely sleep. Doesn’t text. You find his coat on your couch like he meant to come home but couldn’t.

The worst part? He wants to fix it. But he doesn’t know how. He was raised on logic and rules—emotions are messy, unpredictable. Dangerous. For the longest time, he never even had the guts for skin-to-skin contact. You were the first person to jump over the high walls.

So you break the silence first. You find him slumped over a desk, staring at a photo of you two. “Were you ever going to come back?”

“I was scared I’d break something that mattered,” he admits, looking up with raw eyes. “I don’t know how to be loved and feared at the same time.”

You hold him close and say, “Then let’s figure it out together.” His kiss is shaky, tender, and terrified. “I’ll make myself better,” he promises.

---

~~Gaku~~

He’s not surprised when you back away. He saw the fear in your eyes the moment he told you the truth.

“You thought I was just some weird, messy guy with a sharp tongue,” he mutters. “Turns out I’m also a trained killer. Surprise.”

He doesn’t beg or apologize. He just leaves. Ghosts you. The type of silence that tastes like blood and old memories.

You find him again by accident, nursing a busted lip in an alley. “Why didn’t you say goodbye?” you ask.

“Because I knew you’d try to stop me,” he replies, not meeting your eyes. “And I couldn’t watch you look at me like that again.”

You walk up and cup his jaw, thumb brushing his bruise. “You scare me,” you admit. “But I still love you.” That’s when he breaks, he hides his face in your shoulder and just breathes, like it’s the first real breath he’s taken in days.

Later that night, his touch is rough but reverent. He kisses your scars and his own. “If you ever want out,” he says, “I’ll let you go. But until then—I’m yours, even if I don’t deserve it.”

---

~~Heisuke Mashimo~~

He tries to joke it off. “I mean, who hasn’t accidentally blown something up, right?” But when you don’t laugh, he realizes this is serious.

His heart drops. “You think I’d hurt you?” he says, so softly it breaks your heart. “I’ve never even raised my voice at you.”

He spirals hard. Convinces himself you’re better off without him, that he’s too reckless, too unstable. He starts sleeping in his van again.

The guilt eats at him. You hear him muttering in his sleep—begging for forgiveness, apologizing to you, to the people he's failed.

You sat down next to him one night and said, “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here.” He just stares at you like you’re some miracle he doesn’t deserve.

He hugs you too tightly. Buries his face in your neck like you’re his only anchor. “Please don’t be scared of me,” he whispers. “I’d rather blow myself up than hurt you.”

That night, he’s surprisingly tender. Fumbling, awkward, but passionate. “I’m yours,” he says between kisses. “Just tell me what to fix and I’ll do it.”

[theshiniestgemstone]

Y/n is loooooooong time family friends with the gemstones and has had a crush on Gideon for ages, its not till her gets back from Hollywood that he notices she's a woman and not some girl

thank uuuu <3 here ya go!!

"Go talk, Gideon," Amber pressed, seeing as there was going to be no easy way out of the conversation between Jesse, Eli, and a few of the other pastors. Gideon sighed, turning away after a quick nod. He had his own following to build. Mostly with the older folks who came to his sermons, but attendance was waning. His next card was to rely on his old Gemstone charm.

He wandered up to Mildred, catching her mid-bite of the free donut. He grinned, schmoozed a bit, listened to her ramble on about her new grandbaby. Eventually he shook hands with Roger and Festus, listening to them talk about how their faith helped them through the war. When that conversation was finally over, he walked through the lobby.

"Gideon?"

He turned around, his breath stopping as he looked at her first, though her mother was the first to say something. He noticed the look on her face, a tight frown her eyes told a different one. More like one a mother gives when she's watching how her daughter looks at a boy.

"Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N," Gideon said automatically, his voice just a little rougher than usual. His eyes, though, kept flicking back to Y/N.

She wasn't the gawky little girl trailing behind her brothers anymore. She wasn't the kid who'd tug on his sleeve to show him a drawing or demand he race her to the pond. She was standing there now in a soft blue dress, hair falling pretty around her face, smiling at him like she knew exactly how hard it had just hit him.

Though Gideon was friends with her brother, just one year older than him, she'd tagged along more often than not. She was only a year behind Gideon, but he knew she had a crush on him, evident by the amount of times he'd seen his name scribbled in her notebook.

He’d thought it was cute back then. In the same way you think a puppy barking at a big dog is cute. He’d ruffled her hair and teased her often. He'd never taken it seriously. He even laughed at the blush on her cheeks once.

Now?

She looked completely disinterested. It knocked him off balance harder than he cared to admit.

She wasn’t fidgeting, wasn’t glancing at him like he hung the moon. No, Y/N was standing there calm, collected and smiling like she would at anyone she hadn’t seen in a while. Like he was just some guy she used to know.

And God help him, Gideon hated it.

Y/N gave a little wave, tilting her head. "Hey, stranger," she teased, easy and warm.

Gideon blinked, scrambled for something to say. "I, uh, didn't know you were back in town," he blurted, mentally kicking himself. Idiot. She's always been here. You were the one who left.

"Never really left," she said, smile stretching wider. "Just figured you'd gotten too big-time for us little people."

Her mom laughed under her breath, muttering something about getting more coffee, and tactfully wandered off, leaving them alone.

Gideon shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling suddenly like a teenager again, sweaty-palmed and tongue-tied. "Nah," he said, chuckling low. "Could never be too big-time for you."

Y/N's cheeks flushed, but she stood her ground. She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something just for him. "Good. 'Cause I was starting to think you forgot all about me."

He stared at her for a second too long, heart hammering in a way it hadn’t in years.

"Not a chance," he said quietly. He tilted his head, noticing how something about her looked different. "Hair dye?"

She shook her head, turning to the side. "Nose piercing."

Gideon blinked, leaning in a little before he could stop himself. Sure enough, there it was. A tiny, glinting stud that caught the light when she turned her head just right.

"Huh," he said, a little dumbly. "Looks good."

Y/N smiled, something shy flickering across her face for just a second before it was tucked neatly away again. "Thanks. Figured it was time for something different."

Gideon rocked back on his heels, trying to hide the way he was eating up every little change, every little new detail about her like he was starving.

"It suits you," he said, a little too honest, a little too low.

She ducked her head for a moment, and he saw the ghost of the girl she used to be, so impossibly easy to fluster. But when she looked back up, there was something sharper there too. Confidence. Maybe even a little challenge.

"You should come by sometime," she said lightly, tilting her head. "I work at the bakery down on Cedar now. We’ve got better coffee than whatever sludge they’re brewing here."

Gideon's mouth lifted into a slow grin, heart kicking harder in his chest. "Yeah? You offering free samples?"

"Depends," Y/N teased, stepping back toward her mom, who was pretending very badly not to eavesdrop. "Might make you work for it."

And with that, she gave him a wink, a real wink, and walked away, leaving him rooted to the spot, hands still shoved deep in his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like chasing after her.

He exhaled a shaky breath, grinning to himself.

Amber approached him, starting to say something about heading home, but the words died on her tongue. "Isn't that the little girl who used to cry when you wouldn’t let her tag along to the lake house?"

Gideon huffed out a laugh, low and a little breathless. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, still half-smiling as he watched Y/N disappear behind a car door, her mother climbing in after her.

Amber only smirked, always knowing that Y/N's notebook was more prophetic than just doodles.

[silens-oro]

You're My Borealis 2/2

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Masterlist The Last of Us Playlist

Joel Miller x f!OC Camille Daniels (no physical descriptors) Part I General Synopsis: Joel faces the aftermath of Outbreak Day. Word Count: 3.8k Content Warning: Death; Assisted suicide; Pet death; Mention of child death; Gore; Violence; Mourning; This shit is straight up a bummer :) A/N: This the final part to You're My Borealis, and it is heavy. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

please comment & reblog :)

Late October 2003 Austin, Texas Suburbs

“You sure you want to do this?” Tommy’s voice broke the silence in the truck as Joel brought it to a stop at the end of the cul-de-sac he once called home. He put the truck in park, but didn’t take his eyes off the house in front of him. 

“I gotta know, Tommy.” Joel responded gruffly before he yanked the key out of the ignition and grabbed his rifle from its spot between himself and his brother. “Promised her I’d come back.” 

“We gotta be smart about this.” Tommy spoke before either one of them opened their doors. “We don’t know what’s still hanging around and we don’t know what’s inside. We’ll circle around the house, then take the first floor room by room and we’ll do the same to the second, okay?” Joel’s brows hardened, but he nodded nonetheless. “She may not even be in there, Joel, but if she is…are you prepared for this?”

“This is all my fault!” Sarah wailed from the backseat. “I’m so sorry, dad! It’s my fault that she went to the Adler’s!”

“Stop it, Sarah! None of this is your fault!”

“It is! If I just stayed in the house, she wouldn’t have gone looking for me! If I hadn’t gone to the Adler’s-” 

“Look at me, Sarah.” Joel spoke firmly. “Look at me!” He demanded, his eyes met her bloodshot ones in the rear view mirror. “Cam loves you, do you understand me? She did what she did to protect you, so that we could all be safe.” Tommy felt guilt eating away at his chest. Had he not landed himself in jail, Joel wouldn't have been out to post his bail. He would’ve been with you and Sarah, and maybe you…

“She has to be okay.” Sarah stressed. 

“She will be, I promise you she will be. Once we get you someplace safe, and we know what’s going on, we’ll go back for her, alright? We’ll go back for both of ‘em.” Sarah held his gaze for a moment before she nodded dejectedly and turned to look out the window. 

It’s been three weeks since the outbreak.

Three weeks since Joel left Cam and Mitch behind. 

Three weeks since Sarah died in his arms. 

Joel had unfinished business here and he would make good on his promise to Sarah one way or another. 

Joel and Tommy cleared the immediate area around the neighborhood before climbing inside Cam’s house through a broken window near the back of the house. The front door was still locked and so was the back door to the studio. Once they made sure the ground floor was clear, they started their ascent to the second floor with their ears on high alert. 

The guest bedroom was clear, as well as the bathroom. Joel almost lost it when he saw the little knick knacks that belonged to Sarah in the guest bedroom that she turned into her home away from home. The last room to check was Cam’s, and Joel didn’t think he had the strength in him to see what was inside after getting this far. 

Tommy tried to turn the knob and found that it was locked from the inside. He knocked against the door and pressed his ear against it to hear anything moving from the other side. He hit it once more and heard absolute silence. Tommy looked back to Joel before Joel moved up to pick the lock and push the door forward an inch or two. 

The smell that wafted from inside nearly knocked the brothers off their feet. It was a smell they had grown all too familiar with in the last three weeks. 

The smell of death and decay -of wet mildew and mold. Fungus. 

Joel and Tommy lowered their respirators over their faces before Joel pushed his face through the space to see inside the room he was in more often than his own. 

“Baby,” Joel breathed out as he pushed the door to shove the dresser out of the way. He stumbled into the room and stopped just short of the bed. Tommy peaked in and quickly moved back to stand in the hallway to give his brother a few moments. The same guilt he felt in the truck when they drove away on the night of the outbreak hadn’t lessened any, and now that he had to face the reality that Cam was…

Tommy knew Joel would never outright say it, but he knew Joel resented him. How could he not? 

Joel’s feet felt like lead as he moved closer to the foot of the bed. There she lay, curled up on her side like she was taking a nap with Mitch curled up against her stomach. Joel found her and her four legged companion in this exact position so many times before the world had ended that looking at them now felt surreal. The empty pill bottles on the bed caught Joel’s attention and he let out a sigh of relief. 

“Get in the truck!” Joel shouted as Cam and Sarah ran out of the Adler residence with Nana Adler hot on their tails. Joel swung a metal pipe at Nana Adler just as Cam ran past him and Nana went down like a sack of bricks. The woman had been bound to a wheelchair for as long as Joel had been living in the neighborhood so the fact that she was running at full speed was jarring.

Cam pushed Sarah towards Joel, just as Tommy got out of the driver’s seat with his rifle pointed firmly on the Adler’s front door. 

“You killed her.” Sarah said in a daze as she looked down at Nana’s still body. Joel got to her side and held her face in his hands to check her for any injuries. 

“What are we doing, Joel?” Tommy’s voice held clear panic in it, but his outward demeanor stayed calm and collected as his eyes swiveled around the cul-de-sac. 

“We need to leave. Now.” Tommy started to usher Sarah to the backseat of the truck, urging Cam along with them, but she took deliberate steps back towards her own home. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel’s arm extended toward Cam so she could take his hand, but Cam took another step back and flashed the oozing bite on her bicep. A chunk of skin flapped with her movement and muscle had been ripped from her arm in her exit from the Adler residence. The adrenaline coursing through her veins could only mask so much of the pain as Cam’s entire body started to throb.

“No,” Sarah’s devastated voice broke through. Joel spoke Cam’s name as he took slow steps towards her as if she was a wild animal. Shaking her head once more, Cam held a hand up to stop him. 

“I can’t go with you.” Her voice cracked. Tears lined her bloodshot eyes, the truck’s headlights making them sparkle. 

“Get in the truck, Camille. We can figure this out-” Joel tried to reason. 

“We don’t know what this is, Joel.” Her voice broke. “We don’t know how it spreads or if it’s contagious. We don’t know anything. I-I can’t risk getting in there with you. I won’t risk Sarah.” Cam’s lips trembled as you saw Joel’s heart shatter from where you stood. He saw fear drape over you, panic setting in your features. 

“Don’t do this.” Joel whispered, pure terror in his eyes. “Cam, please don’t do this.” 

“Get in the truck, Cam! Please!” Sarah begged. Cam turned to look at the sobbing girl she came to love so deeply. Tommy held Sarah to his chest with one arm as she cried and Cam made eye contact with him and gave him a short nod. 

“We have to make sure I’m not sick, alright?” Cam spoke directly to Sarah. “You go with your dad and uncle Tommy -they’ll keep you safe. I gotta stay with Mitch. I’m sure he’s really scared right now and I can’t leave him alone. If it turns out I’m fine, we’ll find you, alright?” Cam tried to keep confidence in her words, but ultimately knew Sarah didn’t believe her. 

“Dad, do something! Make her get in the truck!” Sarah was hysterical. Tommy lifted his niece and tossed her into the back seat, shutting the door before she could fight him. 

“We gotta go, Joel!” He shouted, breaking Joel out of his stupor. Growls and screams were heard around the neighborhood and they were getting closer. 

“I love you, Joel.” Cam sobbed. “And I love Sarah with everything I have. Get her out of here.” With that she turned and ran back into the house, not giving Joel a chance to argue or a chance to say good-bye. 

“No!” Sarah’s muffled cries from inside the truck absolutely broke Joel. Sarah’s palm hit the window weakly as the front door of Cam’s house closed. 

“Joel!” Tommy begged through clenched teeth as he grabbed the sleeve of Joel’s shirt to push him towards the truck. “There’s nothing we can do right now. I’ll come back with you to check on her once things settle, but we need to go now!”

“Joel!” A woman screamed from the other side of the cul-de-sac as she ran to the street, snapping Joel out of his stupor. 

“Get back in the house, Denise! And lock your doors!” He shouted, trying to keep his tears in check as he got into the truck. “Now!” The woman was stunned and soon tackled to the pavement by another snarling neighbor. Joel punched the accelerator before Sarah could hear her screams. 

“She’ll be okay, right? She’ll be fine with Mitch, right?” Sarah was close to hyperventilating as she tried to see the house getting smaller as Joel sped out of the neighborhood.

“They’ll be fine, babygirl.” Joel tried to reassure Sarah. “She’s staying back as a precaution. You heard her; once she’s sure she’s okay, she’ll meet us. Ain’t the type to go back on her word, you know that. She wouldn’t say it if she didn’t mean it.”

“How will she know where to go?”

“Take a right here and bypass the highway.” Tommy pointed in the opposite direction of the two police cruisers that sped past them at the intersection they stopped at. 

“She’s smart, she’ll know.” Joel tried to focus on the road, but he also wanted to calm Sarah down as much as he possibly could. 

“You left your phone at her house when you went to pick up uncle Tommy. Does she have Uncle Tommy’s number?”

“She does, Sarah. Knows it by heart, too.” Tommy cut in. He didn’t lie, but he knew that they wouldn’t be getting a call from anyone, much less Cam. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he saw what happened to people that were bit. Before Joel bailed him out of the county jail, he had seen the damage firsthand. He wouldn’t dare vocalize it in front of Joel or Sarah, but he knew you weren't making it out of this. 

Everything in the cabinet of Cam’s bathroom mirror clattered to the sink below as her shaking hands found what they were looking for. Placing three pill bottles (that belonged to her mother) onto the lip of the sink, she went back in for the largest bottle on the shelf. 

Cam pulled one of the decorative wash cloths off its holder and shoved it in her mouth to stifle the screams she knew she’d let out. After a silent count to three, she dumped the remaining contents of the rubbing alcohol over the bite and blinding white hot pain flashed before her eyes. 

The pain itself was excruciating and Cam did all that she could to not scream any louder than what the towel could muffle. Tears stung her throbbing cheeks and Cam’s legs collapsed from under her. The pill bottles flew off the rim of the sink and rolled to the other side of the bathroom in the chaos. 

Yanking the towel out of her mouth, Cam staggered to her feet and shakily grabbed the bottles in a daze before searching for Mitch. 

“Mitch?” Cam’s voice had turned raspy, foreign to her ears, as she staggered down the stairs. “Come on, baby,” Movement coming from the living room caught Cam’s eye as the small dog scurried under the sofa. “I’m here, Mitch. Come out, please.” She begged through exhausted sobs. Mitch peaked his little head out from under the sofa, fear evident in his body language. “It’s time for bed, Mitch.” It’s what Cam said to him every single night to get him to crawl into bed between herself and Joel, and it was familiar enough that he bolted past her legs and ran up the stairs. 

Making a detour to the kitchen, Cam stopped for a moment to look out of the living room window to see the chaos that had erupted in the once quiet cul-de-sac. 

The pain in Cam’s open wound began to intensify. The light coming in through the window illuminated how quickly whatever this was had spread through her body. Thick, angry purple and yellow veins had started to protrude up and down her arm and she was aware enough to feel herself becoming lethargic and less in control of her movements. Confusion clouded her mind, making Cam stop to think about what she was doing before she could progress.

Looking over at Joel and Sarah’s house made her breakdown even further as she made her way over to the fridge. Opening the door felt like Cam was lifting a slab of stone, and it took a few tries to grasp the deli bag of sliced ham that she kept on the second shelf specially for Mitch.

Mitch was waiting for Cam at the top of the stairs and his little tail wagged when he smelled what she brought along with her. 

“Come on, buddy.” He ran in tight circles next to Cam’s feet and yipped excitedly. He ran up the doggy ramp that allowed him to get up on the bed without assistance and sat, tail wagging. Cam shut the bedroom door and locked it, and did her best to push a dresser in front of it until she collapsed on the floor with a groan. 

Mitch watched on patiently from his designated spot on the bed as Cam crawled over to the side of the bed and dragged yourself up inch by painstaking inch. To Mitch her behavior was abnormal and he didn’t know what to really make of it, but still he waited patiently. He sniffed the bag of ham and the pill bottles curiously when she sloppily threw them up to try and get herself onto the plush mattress. 

Cam laid on your stomach when she made it up, chest heaving from the exertion, and that was as far as she could go. With the last bit of strength Cam could muster, she opened the pill bottles and emptied the contents onto the bed. 

“You’ve been such a good boy, Mitch. We’re gonna go to sleep, okay?” Cam’s words were slurred as she sloppily ripped up pieces of the ham and stuck as many pills as you could inside the folds. Mitch was quick to eat them out of her hand as she scratched him just under his collar to get him to relax. Having pills hidden in his food was nothing new for Mitch, being a senior dog and all. Cam joined him by swallowing them dry by the handful in the hopes that they took her before she became one of the screaming monsters that scoured the neighborhood. 

“Come here, baby,” Cam coaxed a wobbly, disoriented Mitch over to her side. He blinked his hazy eyes in confusion and curled in on himself like he did every night before finally closing his eyes. Cam held him to her side with a shaking palm for what felt like a lifetime until she felt his breaths become more and more shallow. Eventually they stopped altogether. 

By then the many pills she had swallowed had taken their effect. The pain was gone and it felt like she was floating and spinning, light as a feather picked up by a summer breeze. Cam’s eyes had lost their focus and the only thing she felt was Mitch’s soft fur beneath her fingertips. Glass shattered somewhere downstairs, but it sounded worlds away and Cam didn’t have a single care. Clumsily rolling herself over onto her side, Cam pulled Mitch to her stomach as she drifted. 

“She overdosed before it could take her.” Joel spoke out loud for Tommy to hear through his respirator. This was the least cruel fate Cam could have faced. Even still, Joel was devastated. “Thank fucking god for that.” He muttered to himself.

The cordyceps used her body to feed and create spores, but they weren’t fast enough to make Cam a carrier while she was still breathing. Large fungal plates grew out of the bite on her arm and spread down the length of her body like a mountain range and attached to Mitch in its own ecosystem. 

As much as he tried to harden himself, Joel couldn’t stop the tears that built up with finally knowing what happened after he left with Sarah and Tommy that night. 

“I’m so sorry, Camille.” He whispered, a fragment of a sob tried to push past his lips. Joel dropped to his knees and leaned his head against the foot of the mattress; the deep emerald crushed velvet comforter felt familiar against his hands. He loved your bed more than he liked his own, and to feel it again made his tears fall in a torrent. Joel’s dirty hands fisted the soft material and he yelled in devastation into the mattress until he ran out of breath. “How do I look?” Joel’s whole body exuded with nerves as he stood in front of the sofa that Sarah was laying on with his arms spread out to model his chosen outfit. It wasn’t anything too dressy -just a nice pair of jeans, a newer green plaid button down with a black undershirt with his “going out” boots as Sarah called them in the rare instances he’d go out with Tommy for a beer. Sarah sat up, unwrapping herself from the throw blanket and smiled at her dad. “Is the cologne too much?”

“You look great,” She leaned forward and sniffed. “-Smell great too. I don’t know why you’re so nervous; you’ve spoken to Cam a million times before. You know who she is and you know she already likes you. If anything, you should be excited that this is finally happening!” Joel grunted in response. “Lord knows I’ve only been throwing hints at you for like…months.” Sarah grasped her father’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “You. Can. Do this.”

“This is still technically a date. I can’t help but feel nervous.” 

“You shouldn’t be! Didn’t she say it would be super casual?” Joel narrowed his eyes, getting confirmation that his daughter had been snooping in on his conversations with her favorite neighbor. 

“How do you know what she said?” Sarah stood and started pushing Joel to the door where a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers -peonies, Sarah made sure to stress when they were out picking the right bouquet for Cam- were sitting next to the bowl that held Joel’s keys. 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, but you’re gonna be late if you keep yappin’.” Sarah attempted to dodge the question. 

“We’re gonna have a serious talk about boundaries when I get back.” Joel promised as he grabbed the bottle and the bouquet, and pocketed his keys, but let her push him out the door all the same. 

“Sure thing. Oh, before you go,” Joel turned to face his beaming daughter. “Try to have a good time, please?” Joel smiled at his daughter and nodded. “She’s not a stranger and she already loves me, so that’s two normal worries you don’t have to think about! You’re gonna knock her off her feet -just not literally.” She mumbled the last bit, but Joel still heard it. 

“Don’t wait up for me, alright?” 

“No promises!” Sarah shut the door in Joel’s face and he shook his head as he grinned. Looking over to Cam’s ever inviting home, Joel took a deep breath before forcing one leg in front of the other until he was standing on her porch, his finger suspended an inch from the door as he psyched himself up. 

His head whipped to the left when he heard knocking and saw Sarah in his kitchen window pointing towards Cam’s door while mouthing ‘Do it!’. Joel shot her a heated look and she disappeared from view as he pressed the doorbell. 

“I left you to die alone. You and Mitch didn’t deserve this. Sarah didn’t deserve this.” He sobbed into the comforter. “I failed you. I failed Sarah. I tried…god I tried to get her out of here, Cam, but it wasn’t enough.” He kneeled in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “Take care of her for me? Please? Do what I couldn’t. And…let Sarah know that I love her.”

Joel sat there for what felt like an eternity before he felt Tommy’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Let ‘em rest.” Joel nodded and stood, grunting from the twinge he felt from the still healing bullet wound in his side from the night of the outbreak. His bloodshot eyes glanced around the familiar bedroom and they stopped on a framed picture -one of many- that sat on Cam’s tv stand. 

She had to bribe Sarah with the promise of being able to use her “fancy” camera to take pictures if she went with Cam and Joel on a hike up to the Bull Creek Preserve that summer. The photo was of Cam and Joel with Mitch strapped to her chest in his little carrier because his old man paws got tired halfway through the hike. 

It was a candid photo that Sarah snapped of Cam laughing at something Joel had said and Joel looking down at Cam with pure adoration in his eyes. Came hadn’t a clue that it was taken until she flicked through all the pictures days later and it had turned out to be one of her favorites. It was one of many that were framed around her house. 

The photo next to it made Joel close his eyes. It was of all four of them -Cam, Joel, Sarah, and Mitch- on that same hike. Cam hoisted the camera onto a rock and set a timer to get a good group picture. Sarah was looking up at Joel and Cam, Mitch was leaning his head down with his tongue out ready to kiss Sarah, and Cam had her head tilted onto Joel’s shoulder and he was the only one really looking at the camera.  

Joel ripped the back of the frame off and snatched the picture before folding it up and sticking it in his pocket. 

“Let’s go."

please comment & reblog :)

[rexhya]

bakusquad as real life hs tropes (pt.2) — ✦ ✦

incl — katsuki, eijirou, kaminari, hanta, mina

warn — same as before, basically a detailed version of last one, NOT BETA READ,

freshman year —

first semester katsuki and eijirou quite literally had a single class together, (apc) eijirou was visibly devastated, katsuki was subtly upset. other than lunch they were brutally starved of each others affection ( amplifying katsuki's already insaney grumpy personality )

this is also when mina and kat get really close and kat gets really protective, he gets into a fight with his guy mina used to talk to, he's suspended for like 3 days and was totally worth bc the guy peed himself

denki and company doesn't get why katsuki had to fight him untill he sees the messages between the two ( and now they want to jump him but mina insists on leaving him be )

eijirou also gets his first girlfriend during this time unsurprisingly he's completely head over heels and they practically never see him because of it, denki and sero think shes cute, mina and katsuki fucking hate the bitch, not only because she takes up 100% of his time but because she hates them as well

the girl ended up cheating on him ( we told you so !) and mina finally has a reason to smack the living daylights outta her ( per kirishimas request ) bakugou records and hypes her up. ( the girl was a little bigger but mina had that second round )

this is when denki first decides to try the gateway to all drugs, marjuana and man was that a life changing experience for him. tells sero about it first, tells him not to tell anyone else cus he knows they'll be disappointed in him ( bakugou )

sero ( who loves him dearly ) agrees and pretends to get a crazy high when he tries it himself ( it's really not shit he just wants to like what denks likes bc he likes him )

second semester comes around and all except mina have lunch together ( she usually skips to eat with them anyways ) this is when their popularity really starts picking up, bakugou and kirishima made varsity as freshmen, mina randomly blew up on social media, denki and sero are now friends with the entire school, it was a good era for them.

rumors go around and eventually the 3 of them find out denki's been smoking himself away ( bakugou was beefing w/ shinsou, there was a strange topic switch ) and denki shrugs ( nervously ) under the crimson red gaze.

katsuki is more mad at the fact sero knew before he did ( only he can have favorites ) he asks if they should do it together as a group ( their table erupts in a roar so loud to this day none of the cafeteria knew what happened) and of course they all agree

denki is radiating with pleasure that whole day ( who knew the pomeranian could be so accepting )

sunset, mc donalds parking lot they all smoke for the first time together. bakugou has a coughing fit and questions how he can ingest stuff like that, denki shrugs again, seros head on his lap. all it does is make him sleepy and slightly giggly, mina is far from chillaxed, she and bakugo are laughing their asses of at fucking nothing ( mostly bc mina is 10x more hyper right now, ans bakugou just thinks its the funniest thing in the world )

eijirou decided to be their DD ( in reality he was to pussy to actually try anything but didn't wanna be left out ) and takes the four of them home ( per his older brother, thank you akane kirishima )

eijirou is asleep in the car, mina and bakugou in the backseat ( holding hands ? ) when it's bakugou's stop, mina gives him a hug ( his heart is beating so fast, but it's mostly the weed ) and they just stare at each other for like 3 seconds too long, lean in—

akane honks his horn "get outta here you rascals."

they never talk about it again ( lol )

sophomore year —

first semester denki struggles with depression and a really bad porn addiction ( so bad he asked sero if they should wank one together #akward ! )

his mom puts him on anti-depressants but they take forever to kick in so he stops taking them, tries harder stuff this time ( bad idea ) temporarily relieves his pain.

kirishima battles with his sexuality, up untill this point he had only dated girls and had been that way his entire life, so when looks at ojiro and continues looking at ojiro and eventually can't stop thinking about ojiro he doesnt know what to do

mina is suspicious ( she's bi but doesn't wanna label him for him )

instead of adressing the problem he dates hakegure instead, and breaks her heart a week later when he says he just lost interest. ( hoe era..? )

hanta joins track and is good at it, he also picks up the bass and begins finding hobbies outside of denki, he doesn't tell anyone this but at the time he used to hate being with kami despite how well they got along together

katsuki, hanta and eijirou get closer, their schedules are similar bc of sports ( fb is year round, track is during spring ) and they usually stop by minas job after practice just to bully her and get some food

hanta meets eijirou's family for the first time and it's like meeting all the different versions of kirishima. mina's social media stuff takes off, begins an obsession with being an actor

kami is seperated from them alot, they all miss him but are busy w/ their own lives. kirishima comes to check on him once and thats when he realizes something might be wrong

second semester is here and with it the worst sophomore slump anyone has ever seen, kaminiari has over 100 absences by this point, kirishima is drastically falling behind katsuki and the others, sero is practically dead and mina is to drained to do anything about it.

mina begins hanging out with other ppl now, jirou and tsu are good company, different from the familiarity of her regulars but refreshing in a way.

as a way to repell the the depression mina has the bright idea of throwing a party at her house, chaos ensues.

bakugou shows up first, he feels awkward cus he came on time so it's him and like 3 other people he's never seen before lounging in minas family room while she gets ready

he cant take fake scrolling on his phone any longer and decides to intrude on minas grwm which she was mad about at first but the video blows up ( katsuki's baby fat is practically shredded from fb and growth spurts ) which she now uses as a secret weapon when veiws are low. ( he has no social media besides the one instagram page he uses strictly for football & career opportunities )

he's been in minas house before, he likes the way her room smells, he stays there even when the party gets going.

kirishima comes dragging bakugou out of her room to play spin the bottle to which katsuki has his first kiss ( that he tells no one is his first, but his friends know probably is )

kirishima's spin landed on shinsou but they game was interrupted by a very loud and very obnoxious denki that entered the room, sero not far behind him.

the game never got finished but that wasn't stopping hitoshi they made out in the backyard soon afterwards, kirishimas heart felt like it was near explosion.

denki get's very very high and sero babysits him th whole night, the party gets shut down early bc of noise complaints.

kirshima's mind is whirling at the thought of what he did, he knows his friends would accept him and most of his family too, but would he accept himself?

sero thinks he might die of boredom, all denki does now is smoke. ( or eants to do now ) his performance across all boards of frienship are zeros.

junior year —

this was the year that made them say they hated and i mean hated highschool

kirishima finds out at the beginning of the year he's moving, really far, and it completely crushes his soul. ( his fomo is already bad enough now this? )

mina feels like she hasn't lived up to the standard s she set for herself, she's 16 ans still a virgin, how could that be?

she throws another party, this time smaller, in her room, girls only.

tsu invites ochako, says they would get along ( they did not get along. their interests and hobbies and vibes are polar opposite, yikes ! ) she ignores her for most of the night but the others do most of the talking anyway.

uraraka finally brings up something interesting, todoroki, super hot and close friend of hers is the same year as them and mina is just dying to be held

she takes her chances and they awkwardly avoid each other like a week after ( mina said he was great, shouto had thought she meant it in a way where she would date him, this was not the case. )

bakugou defends her with his life, says they're a bunch of pissy faced babies, ( cough cough, deku )

mina agrees and they move on from the topic forever

bakugou has a bad practice one day, ( completely shredded his acl ) and is done with the season ( and possibly his career )

kirishima is the only one allowed to visit him in the hospital ( he feels pathetic shhhhh )

mina feels horrible about everything and as a last get together she decides to throw a Christmas party ( just the 5 of them, hot cocoa and movies style )

denki and sero are running late ( more than usual ) and they won't answer their phones either

3 hours into the night sero callls them and tells them denki tried to kill himself ( there were letters for all of them, )

when they get to the hospital sero tells them he should have known, bc denki had tried this before. b

bakugou is livid, this is more than just petty secrets they kept from their friends. eijirou ends up holding him back while sero just sobs, mina feels like all of this is her fault

right before second semester, kirishima makes the big move. denki is more embarrassed then anything that they wanted to see him, he shut them out completely and so kirishima boards his train and is gone

the 4 of them dont habg out anymore, i mean eijirou calls katsuki every other night, and mina still comes by, but hanta and kami are on there own, it's may by the time any of them wants to even look at each other

one day bakugou is at the grocery store and because of how violently constipated he is and hiw horrible everythings been for him he fucking shatters deku's jaw

he ran out of the store before anything could be done he hides from his parents and doesn't come out of his room for three days, but izuku didn't tell anyone either, not the truth at least.

he returns to school as normal wondering pathetically why things couldn't just go back to how they were before

it's almost the end of the year when denki finally begins talking to the rest of them, bakugou despite not being able to show it is relived beyond measure

mina stopped throwing all thoes parties, she doesn't plan on starting again, says she needs to focus on herself ( and she does, tsu feels abandoned but mina feels free )

denki eventually returns to school, and to them. ( wow he's so quiet now, his humor comes in bits an pieces )

during the while when he was gone sero and denki's relationship changed ( not necessarily in a bad way ) which denki frankly is thankful for

the last day of school the all hand out at the skate park! mina brings snacks and denki brings boards.

denki hasn't touched anything drug related in a while

kirishima moves back over summer! he has a new friend, ( you, to which they can't tell if they like or not, considering all the trauma, should they rrally let another person into there circle? into there lives? )

eijirou seems to like you though ( especially looking at you )

you don't try and intrude though, you can tell they've been an established friend group for a while ( you grow on them, katsuki it's the last to warm up, he's even more cautious about everything after denki )

mina likes you too, she'e always inviting you everywhere but you can't be bothered with all the activities she had going on ( much to their disappointment )

katsuki likes looking at you too ( lol )

senior year —

everything feels nostalgic and scary but also exciting, it's their last year of high school, better make that count!

you're sitting with the 5 of them at minas house one day, unexpectedly they begin interrogating you about, well, yourself.

you shrug when they ask you about your type ( it hardly matters to you ), blush when they ask you if you'd had your first kiss ( you have, as awkward as it was ) and practically cry when mina shouts you're not a virgin ( who was you're first, they wonder )

the plans for adulthood life got closer and closer as the year came to an end, bakugou asks you to prom!

you say yes, you even go matching. ( mina helps you remember to finish your transition also )

bakugou realizes his passion for anything doesnt always have to go towards something sprta related ( or fb related )

they cry when they graduate ( yes, eveb bakugou )

they visit each other as frequently as possible, and the more things seems to change about them the more they stayed the same, it's equally jarring as it is admirable.

++ bonus !!

during freshman year bakugo had braces ( his rabid animal acuasations only got worse )

kirishima actually enjoyed smoking with his friends more than he thought ( even though he never did it again )

bakugou made up with izuku not long after he injured himself ( is deku's part )

mina used to dye her hair all kinds of fun colors

she helped kirishima dye is hair red

sero's hair used to reach his shoulders back in middle school

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

How would Bruce be affected after the kidnapped fic ?

So many people liked this fic, I have to do a follow-up post! But here's the post if you all want to see it again. Kidnapped fic

Reader is avoiding the bats at every chance they get. Like, you're not even 6 ft apart; isn't that enough? You need them far away from you. They're the reason you got kidnapped in the first place. You weren't a child of Bruce Wayne; if you weren't associated with him, this could have never happened. Not only that, you start to blame yourself. Like a lot, you think maybe if you were strong like Damian, you could have fought them off. Maybe if you didn't rely on them for almost everything, then you would have been safe. You're spending every waking moment and every hour with your mom. She's holding you tight, saying everything is going to be okay. She sleeps with you in your bedroom and never leaves your side. It's crazy how you feel so much safer with her than you'll ever feel with the bats. But since you're at a distance from them and won't even speak to them, their yandere tendencies are literally skyrocketing. Bruce is using the Batcomputer to find the goons that kidnapped you and ruin their entire lives. Dick is literally outside of your room asking—no, begging—for you to let him in. He leaves little notes at your door, trying his hardest for you to talk to him. At one point, he's going to bust down that door just to try and comfort you. Jason knows what it's like to be abandoned and forgotten. He did call you a spoiled brat, but he never really meant it. He's your big brother. Please let your big brother help you when you need him the most; he can relate to how you're feeling right now. He swears just let him protect you; he wants to be the one to save you, whether you like it or not. Tim is watching your every move. You finally feel confident enough to go out alone by yourself, but he's two steps behind you, staring. He had a nightmare that you were taken away again. He opens your door and watches you sleep for hours, just to make sure that you're still there. Duke is trying to help you gain confidence by going outside and being out at night, but every time he tries to hold your hand or keep you close, you pull away instantly. It breaks his heart to know that he has to keep you at arm's length because that's the only way you guys can connect. But don't worry; he'll be the night light in the city of darkness just for you. You and Damian have a tough relationship; really tough. But he just doesn't find it fair that you're confiding in Alfred or your mother or everybody else except him. When he tries to get close to you, you flinch away. He's not going to hurt you; he swears he's not. He may be the grandson of the demon head, but he's nothing like Ra's, and he's trying to prove that to you and to himself. It doesn't matter; he's chaperoning you no matter where you go, forcing you to hold his hand or stay close. As Robin, it's his job to keep people safe, especially the people he cares about, even if they don't know that he cares about them.