#i just don’t know how to make anything happen and i feel like such a failure in so many ways
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I work on a trauma unit. ICU is more intense care the stuff you don’t go straight home from. You get transferred to us when you’re more stable then we transfer you home, to rehab or to a long term care facility. We get all the severe cases that you will survive.
I’ve seen teen age girls get paralyzed while being driven to a highschool dance.
I’ve seen a healthy 35 year old slip going down three stairs from his porch to the sidewalk (as we all do how many times a day?). He tried to grab the rail and like some final destination shit that swinging C shaped motion of grabbing the rail and still hitting the ground cracked the back base of his head on step. Paralyzed from the neck down. He was on our unit do to caregiver neglect. He had pressure wounds to the point you could see bone.
I’ve seen a women get rag dolled by a car while pushing a stroller through the cross walk. Her baby was miraculously fine. But the rag doll pulled her legs in opposite directions paralyzed from the low back down.
I’ve been on safety watch for a man who knocked on his neighbors door and shot them both. He’d hung out with them dozens of times. They had zero reason to suspect it would happen. He simply had a mental break and told me “I don’t know what happened- one second I’m having papa John’s with my friends the next the cops are saying I hurt someone. I didn’t hurt anyone. I like x and y they’re my friends. they didn’t do anything wrong. But the cops were tasing me and I was bleeding everywhere”. Not even the person who shot his neighbors knew why his neighbors deserved it. It’s that they didn’t deserve it. There was no divine plan. There was no neglect. There was no signs. Something in his brain just snapped.
The thing is denial is one hell of a drug. It says no I’m the medical provider. No I’m not dumb like them. It would never happen to me. When all of these people were living life then things outside everyones control went wrong. If I can tell you anything it’s that One day we will all be disabled.
Statistics are not in your favor to be fully functional past 60. Most Americans live to 78. I’m terrified to be in a nursing home and you should be too. I’ve also worked in nursing homes. Staff will absolutely make you feel like a burden for asking for your burnt grilled cheese to be remade. Currently nearly all of us are all looking at cafeteria food at best. We’re looking at 17 years olds with no licensing taking care of us because they’re some of the few people in the work force who aren’t burnt out and willing to be underpaid for “experience”. We’re looking at care home staff declaring what your allowed to wear in your own home until you die.
Disability rights aren’t a *them* thing. There’s no way you can guarantee you won’t be disabled. Some of our most severe disabilities are progressive so you can stay in the safety of your own home exercising eating right and never talking to strangers and your own body can betray you. That’s a process we have to have therapists come in for on the trauma unit. Your body is supposed to protect you. Then one day it can’t. One day it’s outside of anyone’s control. We’re not gonna un-paralyze you. We’ll teach you how to live again yes. That won’t un paralyze you though.
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𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
part one: angel of satisfaction || part two: here
summary_the fallout of your love story with jeong-won and how he begged long enough to drastically change your life.
warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst but happy ending , reader smokes, is implied to be American and PLOT TWIST at the end, NO PROOFREADING
notes_ need to watch goblin and the silent sea :( using the salesman tag to avoid the flop allegations
♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo
✰ Index (+ fics here)
୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ
The smell of cigars filled your home: you never thought you would deliberately find yourself smoking.
But there you were, looking at the cloudy skyline while you threw out the unhealthy smoke.
Your phone rang and you pulled it out of your pocket.
The ninth call of the day. Three times three is the charm.
“What the fuck do you want?” You neutrally ask, ignoring the beating of your heart.
“…y/n? Thank goddess you’re answering” You roll your eyes. “We need to talk, there’s a lot you-“
“Jeong-won, I don’t want to talk about anything with you” The exasperated tone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by him, which makes him feel even more stressed out. “In fact, I don’t want you to keep calling me. I don’t want you messaging me. I don’t want to have your follow on social media. I don’t want to hear your music in the clubs. I don’t want to ever fucking see your face again”
“Please, y/n. I don’t deserve to explain myself but-“
“I told you, you only had to pay for that dinner and forget about me. I suppose you didn’t mend things with your wife…” you abruptly cut him off, watching the smoke of the cigar fly out of your place.
“It’s complicated…” he sounds tired, sad and pathetic.
“Yeah… Everything’s that way with you. I just didn’t want to see it” you spit out, hanging up, leaving him to make a mess over the deadline.
You didn’t know how, but you would try everything just to forget him. But when you get out of the apartment the first thing you notice is the public trash can.
There lies the flower bouquet that appeared at your door three days ago. It had been Jeong-won’s first attempt to say sorry.
But so far it wasn’t working.
…
Three weeks into trying to move on. The first days felt like walking throwing a dark alleyway with no return. Tears always find a way to run out of your eyes, but you couldn’t deny, that you felt better.
Your friends helped a lot. Seoun-mi was the only one who said that if Jeong-won insisted, you could let him explain himself. Ruby and Jade immediately said no.
The spring was right around the corner. The rain was slowly coming to an end. The coats were being replaced with sweaters and cardigans. Even the sun cooperated, warming enough to make you go out to run.
Jeong-won crossed the street to walk towards his car. He had submitted a mini EP of music, expected to release mid-spring.
The city looked active, almost as if everyone had been trapped by the winter. He pulled out the keys to his car when he looked up.
His feet dragged him away, noticing a woman jogging down the street.
His face turned in awe after realizing it was you. Your matching grey tracksuit was hard to miss. He remembered you mentioned you were asthmatic, he wondered if you carried your inhalator.
“Y/N!” Jeong-won couldn’t care less if everyone stared at him as if he was insane. He started running hoping to get your attention.
His heart started beating so fast, the rush of seeing your face again, the hope of having you by his side again.
But that didn’t happen, you didn’t even listen. Music was playing so loud through your wireless headphones.
Jeong-won stopped running. He stared at your blurred vision and sighed in dismay.
His phone rang and he answered, still looking at you.
“Are you busy?” In-ji asked.
“No. I’m going home…” the man answered.
…
As the desperation started to burn you, the need to go out also grew stronger.
Ruby and Seoun-mi had seminars, and Jade had a meeting with her major advisor.
The outcome? You dancing all alone in a club.
You couldn’t go to the same one where you used to go. That’s where you met Jeong-won, it was too painful.
But as the alcohol sinks in, you start to feel tipsy, alerting you to stop drinking.
For a second you thought it was already too late but Han Jeong-won was actually there.
He gently pushed people to come to you.
There isn’t even time to feel angry, nervous, or panicked.
“What are you doing here?” You ask loudly.
“I came with a friend…” he admits, looking hopeful.
When you try to sneak away, Jeong-won grabs your wrist and pushes you against his chest. Only to then kiss you.
In his arms, you felt safe.
With his kisses, you felt cherished.
The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.
He couldn't resist the temptation. Couldn't miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.
"Please, believe me..." he pleaded, holding your hands.
"Fuck you, Jeong-Won"
Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours again, but you slipped, leaving him.
Like you had already done before.
But it didn't make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.
And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.
You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.
…
Caffè Americano…
The smell fills your nostrils and the warmth of the cup soothes the cold of your hands. Too many thoughts have run through your head over the days. And it was very rushed to say you were over Jeong-won. Walking through the same streets you once walked while feeling in love was devastating, as dramatic as it sounded.
But it’s a good day. You can feel like you are reaching peacefulness and it’s enough.
It’s been a month and a half since you last saw him. The world is not fresh, but it’s still open.
You walk out of the coffee shop, your boots sound with every step you take and the cool air makes the very few cherry blossoms in the trees fall.
Your eyes scan the street; everyone is just there living.
When would you start feeling like yourself again?
Apparently not at that moment. After coming down the little steps of the coffee shop, you look up and meet two people talking, just inches away.
Why was life so cruel? Why do you have to meet your ex-boyfriend and his wife right then and there?
They feel someone standing in their eyes, but they try to act so normal, like you hadn’t seen them. You start walking away. With firm steps and a well-hidden urge to run as well.
His hair looked the same, but his face looked less tired. She looked younger if that was even possible, with longer hair and more casual clothes.
Jeong-won and In-ji stare at each other awkwardly.
“Go after her” she softly tells him. Jeong-won stares back at her with unease before turning back his attention to you.
He knew you wanted to run away the moment you saw them.
“We already met once. What if we met again and she’s in the middle once again?” He can’t deny the anxiety growing as you stop waiting for the traffic lights to change.
“Jeong-won, perhaps we were really never meant to be together…” his face almost turns into a childish pout.
But maybe… In-ji was right.
She was kind, supportive and caring. She would’ve been a great wife. But their marriage started as a contract, Jeong-won never knew her completely.
He never felt the same way he did with you.
“We couldn’t even say ‘I love you’ to each other…” the woman admitted with a sad smile.
Then both turned to look at you.
“Go, explain her everything. And if we see each other again. It’s because we are meant to be friends. But that’s it…” Jeong-won almost felt his eyes turn glassy. But he nodded, gave Noh In-ju a brief kiss on the forehead, and literally started running towards you.
For a moment he thought about
You are still waiting for the green light when you hear him. You spot a cab and make him a sign to stop by you.
“Y/N !” When you look back, you see Jeong-won running, out of breath with his hand waving in an attempt to make you notice him.
You sigh, already feeling stressed out.
“This needs to stop. I can’t take it anymore!” You almost yell as soon as he ends up face-to-face with you. “I know it was just a coincidence and she’s your wife, but it’s not fair. I can’t do this anymore…”
You’re so mentally exhausted that you don’t even notice your eyes tearing up until the cool air makes you aware of the tears.
“Please, don’t cry. If you just let me explain… you and I-“
Boom. You explode…
“YOU AND I, NOTHING!”
It spills out of your mouth. The words even hurt you since you know it’s not true. People around stare but you don’t care.
“This is why I can’t go out anymore. I’m so scared that I will have to see your face again… “ his heart breaks, he can’t stand your tired and hurt tone, your burning cheeks, and your red eyes.
He wants to make it better but doesn’t know how.
“I never wanted to hurt you…” he admits with his broken voice and you find the strength to chuckle. “I will remember that when I’m gone…”
“You’re leaving?” Jeong-won finds himself panicking, already desperate to make you stay.
“If the office approves my petition, yes. I’ll leave in three weeks” his face goes pale. “And even after everything… I can’t hate you, Jeong-won”
Your cab arrives just in time, and you disappear without saying anything else. You don’t even look at him again.
And as the cab drives away, you begin to think about anything else. In hopes of forgetting about everything, starting with his face.
…
2:00 am…
You can’t sleep. It was the following night after a hangover day. Your friends almost cried, pleading you stay at least the rest of the semester. You hadn’t thought about leaving the apartment and all of the good memories built there.
You look through the open curtains at the skyline. The same crystal diving you from the city that once was your lullaby as Jeong-won hugged you and combed his fingers through your hair.
You were so sober that you even questioned if he deserved to explain himself.
What if he was in a bad marriage and he couldn’t get divorced but started seeing you? No… Then why did they look very happy talking to each other the last time?
What if he actually never meant to cheat on his wife but tremendously fell in love with you? No… He still cheated and never told you about it.
But he said he loved you.
And he looked sincere while doing so…
*beep beep*
Your phone makes you touch the ground again.
After hours of being in the dark, the light of the screen blinds you for a second.
Five new messages…
Jeong-won ♡
You never removed the heart beside his name in the contract.
Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤
I can’t sleep again.
and not because I’ve taken
the pills again. I miss you like
you have no idea.
I know I hurt you despite not
wanting to. But as I said, it’s complicated.
Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤
My first wife and I had issues.
She always wanted to
control me. We almost had a kid,
but we lost it and that shattered my
life once again. So she urged me
to sign a fake marriage, now I see
how twisted and stupid it is.
Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤
I was so uncomfortable when this
new woman appeared at my place.
It was already a bad place
and it added up to my neglect. It was
never my intention to cheat on In-ji.
I was only being friendly
that night we met in the club. But the
more I heard you, the more I realized
how lonely I was. It was luck or a fluke
that you were in that burger shop
days after.
Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤
I swear to you, y/n, that every
word, caress, and moment I shared
with you was real. Never in my life
I’ve been more sure about
feeling like this. I wanted to tell
you about the marriage, but I
didn’t know how. I thought that
no matter how much I tried to
explain, it would sound terrible.
I was so close to falling in love
with her. But thank goodness
I didn’t, because I would have
settled for so little compared
to you. The marriage contract is
over. That day you saw us together,
it was the first time I saw her
in months. She told me to go after you.
Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤
I don’t think it’s enough
explanation. But I hope it’s
enough for you to believe me
when I say I truly love you.
I’m so sure I want to waste as
many years as needed as long as
you forgive me. Please don’t leave,
I need you. Even when I don’t deserve
it.
✓ ✓
You don’t cry, you don’t panic, you don’t even blink. You just lock the phone and set it aside. Your eyes locked on the ceiling as you start drifting off, succumbing to sleep.
…
It could’ve been any other day. But it was raining when you decided to drop the final papers to withdraw from the study abroad program and return home. The apartment was a mess, half of it already packed up inside carton boxes and the other half resting as if nothing was happening.
The decision was not properly made, that was clear.
Your head was a disaster, a swimming mess.
Your life has been quite boring but comforting ever since you entered your teenage years. Never in your wildest dreams, you thought you would be stressing over a failed relationship where the man was married.
Three months after that embarrassing night at the restaurant, you are in a very different place and situation.
The rain has stopped, the sun peaks between grey clouds but the streets are still a wet mess.
You avoid the puddles of water that form across the sidewalk. Your cable earphones get tangled with the bunch of papers in your arms. It’s annoying until you slow down to take them off and hold the papers properly.
You bump into someone. The altercation being a little violent makes you almost fall to your knees, but the stranger holds your shoulders.
And the papers fall from your hands, drenching in the water.
“Fuck…” you whisper, hurrying to kneel, not caring that your knees get wet, you can only save the top papers. You see the hands of the stranger also trying to save them. That’s when you look up at the stranger.
Without a warning you end up smiling, Jeong-won smiles back at the instant. Both of you chuckle.
The half-drenched papers slip from your hands again, completely drowning in the puddle of water.
“Is it too late?” He asks.
“For what?”
“For begging you to stay with me…” your hands snake to grab his. He had a black turtleneck sweater and a jacket hanging over his shoulder. He looked painfully gorgeous.
You think about all those hours you spent re-reading his messages.
“I think you have begged enough” you reply.
Needless to say… you just know it was meant to happen.
Your arms lock around his neck and it’s you the one kissing him. Jeong-won mentally sighs, feeling relieved and renewed.
You can feel his arms embracing you tightly, as if scared you would slip away from him again.
Out of breath, he rests his forehead against yours, witnessing how the pain slowly washed away.
“It’s okay…” you almost whisper, he nods, briefly smiling. “Jeong-won, let's go home”
You knew he understood. Both of you knew home was wherever the two of you were together.
…
The heat was slowly building up. The windows started to remain open all day and night. Jeong-won was slightly stressed out, he had an upcoming trip and was in a mall, outside of a candle store.
His phone was almost burning when he realized the day was indeed hot.
“Jeong-won?” He turns only to encounter In-ji, smiling brightly at him.
“In-ji…”
His ex-wife appeared upon him, looking gorgeous. She looked happy, with her long hair now dyed chocolate brown.
“How are you?” He asked giving her a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you in… a long time”
It had been a year, to be exact.
“What happened with y/n?” She asks straight to the point and Jeong-won chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”
“It was bad… Remember?” In-ji nods, then he points at a woman squatting while looking at candles inside the store.
It was you, wearing a sundress that hunched over the floor. A purse hanging from your shoulder with many keychains. And when you stood up and turned to the side, In-ji noticed your left arm was also busy, holding a newborn baby.
“HAN JEONG-WON, YOU HAD A BABY?” the man starts laughing while nodding. “Oh my goddess! Congratulations!”
“I can’t believe it myself” he admits after accepting the hug In-ji gave him.
It felt nice to see her. She was right, they functioned better as friends.
“It’s a girl, right? What’s her name?” His eyes brightened at the subject.
Jeong-won had a baby with you…
“She has two names. June Iseul” the name of the baby rolled over his tongue and he found himself smiling again.
June Iseul was born in the peak of the winter, weighing and measuring less than expected, with matted raven hair and grey irises that were slowly becoming like yours but shaped just like her father’s.
“That’s adorable!” In-hi admitted, feeling awe at the sight of the baby in your arms, wearing a rainbow onesie.
“And I guess you married her?” Jeong-won huffed.
You never denied how June Iseul had been an accident. She came to slow down your academic career, she also made you gain weight and lose some hair but her arrival amidst winter gave you half a year to recover. You felt amazing and June Iseul was growing healthy.
Jeong-won was happier than ever. He was just a little worried about the reason why they were in the mall. Your parents were slightly mad and very confused as to why you left home being single and a full-time student and you were going to visit them being a part-time student, with a boyfriend and a baby.
Jeong-won was nervous, excited, and eager to marry you.
“Well… happens that y/n doesn’t fully believe in traditional marriage. I’ve asked her on multiple occasions but she keeps saying that we shouldn’t push it yet” Jeong-won admits rolling his eyes, she chuckles, turning her head to see you invested in the newborn section. “She’s very smart”
“She is…” he agrees, joining the chuckles and smiling like an idiot at the sight of you with his daughter.
“Well I didn’t have a baby, but I got married” In-ji revealed, making Jeong-won almost gag.
“What? When?”
“Two weeks ago. I met him in Thailand and… I don’t know. I’m just… very happy” Both smiled, feeling in peace knowing everyone had moved on. “I’m happy for you, Jeong-won. I can tell you are living a dream”
“I’m also happy for you…” both smiled at each other.
…
An hour later, you are done shopping and the most important thing is in your hands; a stroller for June Iseul.
Jeong-won pushed the stroller as both of you walked towards a pasta restaurant.
“It sucks that you got me pregnant before my twenties ended. I should be in the club!” you object, exaggerating. You can hear Jeong-won huffing in disbelief.
“You literally go out to the club every week!”
He was right. Your life pretty much remained the same.
“And that’s one more reason I love you so much”
Even with the arrival of June Iseul, Jeong-won had no problems with staying with the baby while you attended classes or decided to hang out with your friends. He used to have a lot of free time, but now… he found the perfect routine.
“What are we ordering?” He asks, grabbing a menu as you both wait your turn to order and pay.
“You pick the pasta and I want a pizza with truffle oil. What do you say?” You negotiate with a smile.
He gets so lost in your beautiful face that he ends up smiling back like an idiot.
“What?” You ask again, chuckling at his silly face. “Nothing, I just love you so much”
You blush. And before you can say anything.
You hear some coos.
“I’ll order, you pick a table and feed Junjun” Jeong-won reassures you, knowing very well his daughter was demanding and using the silly nickname he had given her.
You take a seat at a secluded table and turn the stroller so you can uncover it.
June Iseul was awake.
“Hello, little blossom” she smiled and it melted your heart. “I know you’re hungry…”
She was very small and soft. She had that baby smell but as her mother, you thought your baby smelled perfectly compared to the others.
She locked her eyes with yours as you breastfed her, not caring about the attention because your back was facing the world, and the table was secluded enough to cover you.
June Iseul’s pale skin resembled her father’s, making her look a little like a porcelain doll. Like the one your friend Jade gifted her from Japan months ago.
The doll was very sophisticated and rested along with some baby books and toys.
“Your father isn’t very good at conversations with strangers, right?” You ask your baby as you pull her out of the stroller and into your chest. Your boyfriend seemed to awkwardly be exchanging words with the woman taking the order. It made you chuckle.
After a long night talking and him telling you every single detail of his life, everything changed.
Just when he got a little house in a modest neighborhood and asked you to move in, you accidentally got pregnant.
What seemed like a challenge turned out to be easier than expected. Jeong-won had been the perfect partner all along.
Ignoring the judgment from your peers in classes after you waddled around campus with a baby bump, everything was perfect.
Also ignoring all the insults you threw to Jeong-won while he held your hand in the delivery room, everything was perfect.
So seeing him come with the receipt of the order and taking June Iseul from your arms to burp her made you realize how lucky you were.
How fucked up things were until they weren’t.
You have a boyfriend begging you to marry him and a perfect baby that looks like him. Both are in wait to visit your homeland and parents for the first time.
The flash of your phone pulls Jeong-won out of his trance with June Iseul.
“Are you taking us a picture?” he asks.
“Yes, you both look so adorable” you admit looking at the screen. June Iseul perfectly locked eyes with his father and you captured it in a picture.
You would print it, use it as your lock screen, and send it to your friends.
Ruby immediately replies in the group chat, then Jade, and lastly Seoun-mi.
Rubz <3 ׂ╰┈➤
DILF + adorable baby spotted!!!!
Jadore ׂ╰┈➤
Is that the onesie I bought her?
June Iseul my baby 🩷🩷🩷
misu :) ׂ╰┈➤
Tell Jeong-won he’s not
holding her neck properly:)
misu:) ׂ╰┈➤
I love her <3
you ׂ╰┈➤
Everyone gets In-N-Out and
animal fries after we come
back to Korea (cold ofc)
you ׂ╰┈➤
For being such a good
trio of aunts 💋
You lock your phone with a smile on your face as you stand up.
“Where are you going?” Jeong-won asks.
“To wash my hands, silly” You lean forward to kiss him briefly and you can feel him smiling amidst the kiss.
It’s inappropriate but since the table is secluded, you feel playful enough to add tongue and have a little touch with his.
And then you remember your daughter is in the middle of you two and had just burped.
“She spilled some milk…” Jeong-won hurriedly says, breaking the kiss.
You chuckle and kiss your daughter’s matted hair.
“Then clean her, Jeong-won,” you say before leaving to finally wash your hands. As your steps grow further, you can hear your boyfriend talking in Korean with June Iseul.
“Your mother is a little spitfire. That’s why I want to marry her…”
There’s an embarrassing smile on your face when you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.
___________________________
Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1 @muchwita @preppyfella @xcinnamonmalfoyx
#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo#the trunk#han jeong won x reader#han jeong won#the salesman x reader#salesman x reader#the recruiter#recruiter x reader
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Hi Mae! I was in a car accident yesterday (car took most of the damage, I’m ok other than bruises and sore muscles) and the whole thing has been a whirlwind of insurance and hospital and half asleep crying. I was wondering if I could request James potter x reader for comfort in a situation like that? I’m going through it rn lol hope you’re having a good day :)
Oh I'm sorry lovely! I had a very similar thing happen a little over a year ago, it's sooooo exhausting even when luckily no one is seriously hurt. Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a good/better day too <33
cw: past car accident, no details but talk of general aftermath of police questioning, insurance, etc.
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 799 words
The way James half-jogs up to the automatic doors of the hospital, seeming caught between walking and running, feels like someone is pressing down on the bruise of your chest. You wish you’d called him sooner.
“James,” you call as he comes in, hating how your voice cuts through the taut quiet of the waiting area. It’s worth it for how his whole self softens when his eyes find you.
He slows to a fast walk the rest of the way to you, the urgency slowly leaving him—which is appropriate, there is no urgency, everything has happened already—like an engine running out of gas. You stand as he nears, and both of you reach for each other before James hesitates. His hands stop midair, his brow tightening for a moment, before they come tentatively to your elbows.
“Hi,” he says, squeezing. “How bad is it?”
“For me or the car?” you joke.
“You.” James is feeling too earnest for joking, it seems. “Well, both of you. But you first.”
You really thought you’d cry when you saw him. Worried you’d make a whole scene, blubbering and inconsolable, but you don’t seem to have any tears left. It makes sense, you suppose; you’ve cried a lot in the past few hours. First the slow, shaky kind right after getting out of your car, and then a real cry when a police officer had pulled you aside to get your version of events. (It had been embarrassing. She’d been nice about it, though.) Now, you wait for the tears to come, but for all your relief at seeing your boyfriend you feel rather dried up.
It makes you wish, once again, that you’d called James sooner. You’d wanted to, of course, but you’d been nearly certain you’d be even less capable of holding yourself together if he were there, and there wasn’t much reason for him to be anyways. He was at work and you weren’t terribly hurt, so there was really nothing he could have done while you were talking to the police and the tow company and the paramedics and attempting not to drown in an overwhelm of insurance information. The only thing you really wanted him for was to hold your hand.
“I’m okay,” you say, the necessary preface. “A bit bruised up. My chest got the worst of it.”
Unconsciously, your hand comes to your sternum as if to demonstrate, gravitating towards the center of the ache. James’ hand follows, seemingly just as thoughtless as it covers your own. He can’t see the bruise, but he makes a low, sad sound anyway.
His care softens your voice. “They said my neck will probably hurt tomorrow, but it doesn’t yet.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds really, truly heartbroken for you. “And the rest, it hurts a lot?”
You shrug. What’s a lot? You know you could’ve had worse, much worse; still, you could do without that frightening soreness that comes with each breath.
“It’s not too bad,” you say. “I could still hug.”
It’s the question he’s been dying to ask, clearly. James’ arms are around you in a second, ardent but still gentle, palms pressing to the high and low points of your bag. It’s a good hug. You melt a little against him.
James tucks his face into the side of your neck, like he’s trying to get as much contact with you as he can. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.”
“You were at work.”
“I’d have left work.”
“There wasn’t anything you could do. I was fine, I just had to…” a little sigh escapes you, exhaustion creeping in now that he’s here “...talk to people. Insurance and all that.”
James makes a soft, half-agreeing sound. His thumb strokes the base of your neck. “Still. I could have held your hand.”
A new ache rises in the back of your throat, coming to join the rest. You wind your arms tighter around James.
After a few, silent moments, he kisses your neck chastely and loosens his hold. “Ready to go home? Anything else you need?”
You shake your head. “I’m signed out,” you say, so eager you feel like you could float out the doors. You hope you can entice James to lie in bed with you when you get home. You think you’ll sleep until tomorrow. “Let’s go, please.”
“Alright, you don’t have to say please, sweetheart.” James curls an arm around your shoulders, pressing a smile into your cheek. “We can go. You need one of those wheelchairs for me to take you out to the car?”
“Ha ha,” you say drily. “No.”
“Just checking. Think maybe I ought to ask for one, just in case?”
“James. I will take your car home without you in it.”
“Alright, lovie, I’m coming.”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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𝒾𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
➵ ℳ𝓔𝓝𝓤
- DAY 1 💌 , bf!shadow, hurt/comfort, if u saw me post this already no u didn’t 🤫
the apartment was quiet, you and Shadow sat across from each other on the bed legs loosely folded, a comfortable distance between you. the dim lighting cast a soft glow over his dark fur, highlighting the sharp edges of his features
but tonight, it was different
you had noticed it before how sometimes, no matter how close you were Shadow seemed miles away. and it had been happening more often lately.
the silence stretched on between you and Shadow, heavier than before. there were moments when he still slipped away, moments when his thoughts pulled him somewhere you couldn’t follow.
and it hurt.
it wasn’t something you wanted to admit, even to yourself. you knew Shadow wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate and you had never expected him to be. but when he pulled away, when his eyes drifted past you like he wasn’t really there it made you wonder if you were fooling yourself. If what you had with him was real
or if he was just holding on out of convenience
you sat on the bed knees pulled up to your chest, watching him as he stared out the window. his posture was tense, his mind clearly somewhere else. the city lights reflected in his eyes but you could tell he wasn’t seeing any of it
Shadow had always been distant. you knew that from the start. but knowing it and feeling it were two very different things
Shadow was beside you close enough that you could feel his presence but not close enough to feel him. not in the way you wanted
you had always been there for him. when he became lost in his head, you stayed. when his nightmares woke him in the middle of the night, you never asked questions you just reached for him letting him know you were there for him. when he disappeared for hours, sometimes days, you never demanded explanations. you simply waited.
but how long could you keep waiting?
“You’re thinking too much again” Shadow said his voice pulling you from your thoughts
you glanced at him. he was looking at you now but not in the way you wanted. he could always tell when something was on your mind but he never reached for you first.
you swallowed your fingers gripping the blanket. “Do you even care about me Shadow?”
the words felt heavier the moment they left your mouth. Shadow stiffened his red eyes narrowing slightly not in anger but in confusion
“Why would you ask that?” he said
you exhaled, shaking your head. “Because you never show it” you admitted your voice quieter now. “I’m always here for you. Always. And I don’t expect you to change who you are but… sometimes I wonder if this even means anything to you. If I mean anything to you.”
Shadow was silent. as if he was processing your words but the longer the silence stretched the more that ache in your chest deepened
his jaw tightened and for a second, you thought he might look away.
Shadow exhaled sharply his hand running over his quills. he looked at you for a long moment. slowly hesitantly he reached out
Shadow’s fingers curled over yours
and it broke you.
you had wanted this for so long. to feel him reach for you, even in the smallest of ways. to know that he cared, but now that it was happening, all it did was make your chest ache.
because it took this. It took you questioning everything, it took you feeling empty, for him to finally respond.
a quiet, shaky breath escaped you, and before you could stop it, tears forming in your eyes, blurring your vision as your fingers twitched beneath his
Shadow’s gaze sharpened immediately. “Why are you crying?” his voice wasn’t stern or harsh, no, it was soft
you tried to pull your hand away, but he didn’t let go.
“I don’t know” you whispered, though you did. you knew exactly why.
Shadow frowned, his grip on your hand tightening slightly not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there. “You do.”
you let out a quiet, humorless laugh, blinking back the tears even as they slipped down your cheeks. “Because it shouldn’t have taken this for you to show that you care.”
Shadow stiffened and for once, he had nothing to say
you shook your head, your voice breaking as you continued. “I’ve been here this whole time Shadow. Always waiting. Always hoping. And you never…” Your breath hitched, the ache in your chest spreading. “It feels like you never needed me the way I needed you.”
his grip on your hand loosened. his ears flicked back, his face unreadable. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” you asked, wiping at your eyes though the tears wouldn’t stop. “I feel like I’m always the one reaching out. Always the one holding on. And I kept telling myself it was enough just to be near you but it’s not. I’m not.”
the words came tumbling out before you could stop them, years worth of silence unraveling at once. Shadow didn’t move, didn’t speak, and that only made it worse.
a sharp breath left Shadow’s lips, his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you again, but something stopped him. his own hesitation. his own walls.
you gently pulled your hand from his grasp and this time, he let you. “I just… need some time” you whispered
Shadow’s expression was unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes something like regret. he nodded slowly, as if understanding that for once this was something he couldn’t fix with silence.
and as you turned away, curling into yourself on the bed you wondered if you had finally reached the point where trying just wasn’t enough anymore.
you lay there curled into yourself, staring at the wall, the weight of everything of your love, your longing, your loneliness weigh heavy on your chest. you had always told yourself you could handle it, that just being with Shadow was enough.
you weren’t sure how much time passed before you felt the bed shift behind you. a familiar warmth pressed close, hesitant at first, before strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him.
you sucked in a sharp breath as Shadow buried his face against the back of your neck, his grip tightening around your waist as if afraid you would slip through his fingers. his quills brushed against your skin ticklish but comforting
then barely above a whisper so soft you almost didn’t catch it came his voice.
“…I’m sorry.”
you squeezed your eyes shut, your breath shuddering as his words ghosted over your skin. Shadow was not someone who apologized easily. but here he was wrapped around you holding you like he was afraid of losing you
“I’m sorry” he murmured again, “For making you feel like this.”
your body trembling slightly against his. his grip only tightened in response.
then, warm lips pressed against your shoulder. a soft kiss . then another. and another.
each one felt like an apology, a silent plea for you to stay to understand.
Shadow wasn’t good with words, but this was something he could give. his touch, his presence, his warmth.
“I do need you” he whispered against your skin, his lips trailing up to the back of your neck. “I don’t always know how to show it, but I do.”
your chest ached, your hands gripping his arms where they circled you
you turned slightly in his arms, just enough to meet his face. his crimson eyes were softer now
he didn’t speak. he just leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in
you swallowed hard, your hands resting lightly over his as he held you.
Shadow exhaled, his grip on you tightening. “you’re always there for me” he murmured against your hair. “now let me be here for you”
your fingers brushing lightly over his chest. his eyes met yours
“I know I don’t always show it the way you need me to” he admitted his voice lower now, rough. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.” His hand lifted to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “I do.”
your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice. leaning into his touch.
Shadow held your gaze for a moment, then slowly pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. his other hand found yours, fingers lacing between yours.
“I don’t know how to be the kind of person who says things outright” he continued, “But I want you and choose you, Every time.” he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his crimson eyes steady. “And that’s never going to change.”
you let out a shaky breath, nodding as you squeezed his hand in reassurance
Shadow studied you for a moment longer before leaning in, pressing a slow, kiss against your lips no urgency, no hesitation, just certainty.
when he pulled away he tucked you back into his arms, holding you close. “I love you” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Always.”
day 2 comes out this tuesday! 💌
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦゚ᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི
#౨ৎ#shadow the hedgehog#—⋆˚࿔ bf!shadow#imagine#oneshot#fanfic#need him#who said that#shadow oneshot#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#shadow imagine#shadow fanfic#sonic fanfiction#sonic movie#sonic#sonic movie 3#sonic fanart#sonic fandom#sonadow#sonic the hedgehog#sonic 3#sth#bf!shadow
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Doctor's In - Part 12
Summary: Wanda deals with the aftermath of your breakup.
A/N: This chapter is focused on Wanda. Big thanks to @a-cat-on-titan for an idea that made it on a part of the fic :)
Aint no mountain high enough
Ain’t no valley low enough
“Ain’t no river wiiideee enoough” Wanda dances around the kitchen, singing.
It’s never quiet around the house. There’s always music, or drilling or hammering. Because she’s taken into making (badly built) furniture. And pottery. And yoga.
To anyone else, it may seem like Wanda’s living her best life.
But Pietro’s not just anyone.
His sister is running away from her feelings, keeping herself busy just so she doesn’t have time to miss you.
“Oh, morning. Want anything for breakfast?”
“I’ll make something later, thank you” he refuses the offer, feeling better and finding his movements to be more confident after another month in physical therapuy. “How did you sleep?”
“Children, we’re late for school!” Wanda ignores him. That’s the one thing she can’t do. Sleep. She’ll rest for a few hours, but as soon as everyone’s asleep, Wanda gets too anxious. Her only solution is to put on a pair of headphones and paint or do pottery or anything else until it’s 3 am and she’s too tired to think.
Or dream.
“Billy, where is your soccer bag? You boys have practice after school!” Wanda says, trying to look for it. Kids, always misplacing everything.
“I don’t wanna go to soccer anymore! I already told you” he protests. Pietro looks up, prepared for another argument.
It’s been happening since you left.
“Sweetheart, you love soccer!”
“No, I don’t! I only liked it because Y/N helped me practice during the weekends and it was fun. I’m not going anymore”
With that, he leaves the house and heads straight to the car, slamming the door. Wanda knows he’ll be crying on the way to school and will refuse to hug her goodbye, the same way he’s done every day for the past month.
“Tommy, grab your stuff” the woman says, trying to pretend everything’s fine.
Unfortunately for her, the twins don’t let her pretend, showing how hurt they are and how much they miss you.
It’s just a phase.
“I have a meeting with Laura, I’ll come back later” she says goodbye to Pietro, hoping the car ride can be a bit better.
“Ok” is all he says, frowning.
There’s only one way to fix this. He just hopes his sister will find a way to forgive him after finding out what he did.
—
Laura is waiting with coffee and some biscuits. She’s always looking at Wanda anxiously, waiting for the moment that everything will finally collapse and she’ll feel all the things she’s avoiding.
So far, nothing.
“Hey! Oh, the boys are being so difficult lately. How did you manage with Cooper?” Wanda always walks in with a monologue ready, which never gives Laura the chance to ask her how she’s doing.
“I don’t know. I mean I don’t think that was a difficult age for him” she grimaces, thinking whether or not to tell Wanda this has nothing to do with age, and everything to do with her breakup.
“Is this the book? Oh my God, it looks amazing!” she changes the topic, knowing where the conversation is headed. As she opens to read the first pages, her smile fades. “Well, we need to get rid of that”
That as in, the dedication. The words that were written for you. Because you helped with the book, with taking care of the kids, with encouraging Wanda.
This was supposed to be a gift for you. Like the first book Wanda ever wrote, and she dedicated to the twins. And so on with every one of her family members.
You were the last piece of the puzzle. And she had hoped that someday she’d dedicate the next one to a baby girl. A daughter that looked just like you.
“Wanda…” Laura says, noticing the cracks in her friend’s perfect facade.
“Anyway! I have to go do some grocery shopping. I’m making coq au vin tonight”
“Do the kids eat that?”
“Sure!”
Of course they don’t. But chicken is too fast and she needs to be distracted and have a lot of dishes to clean and keep her mind occupied.
“Well, this is a first prototype. Once I speak with the publishing company we’ll get a date for the release” Laura says. “Hey, are you sure you’re ok?”
“Never been better” Wanda lies. “See you later, Laura”
Of course, the trip to the grocery store is not enough to calm her, not when there’s a woman wearing scrubs, looking exhausted and trying to figure out which baking powder is better.
“This one’s good if you want to bake cookies” she says, finding it hard to look away. “Sorry, you didn’t ask”
“No, that’s fine. Appreciate it” the woman nods, grabbing the one Wanda suggested and walking to another woman that is also wearing scrubs. They chat as they walk to the register.
Now Wanda regrets talking to them. What if they used to work with you? What if they tell everyone they saw her and she was being a weirdo talking to them first?
Worried about running into someone else, she hurries up with the shopping, and practically sprints to her car.
It takes her a few minutes to calm down. She forgets about the radio, until it begins playing.
One of your songs.
Wanda doesn’t have time to change the station, getting a call. She doesn’t really notice who it’s from, wishing nothing more than to disappear.
“Miss Maximoff? This is Tommy’s teacher”
Ok, that will distract her for sure.
“Is he ok? Are he and Billy…?”
“We’re gonna need you to come to the principal’s office, please”
—
A fight.
His sweet, wonderful boy getting into a fight. Well, that was a lie. And no one was going to mess with Wanda’s children.
“Sweetheart?” she approaches her boy, sitting outside the Principal’s office. His clothes are dirty, and his hair is full of weeds. “Who did this to you?”
“Miss Maximoff” Principal Coleman says, ushering her inside. “Please, sit down. I know this is pretty much new to you. Your kids have good grades, the teachers love them… but I’m sorry to tell you Tommy got into a fight today”
“Oh, but… he is the sweetest kid. I just can’t imagine him hurting anyone”
“Well, according to Daniel, Tommy was the one who started it” the Principal says, leaning back in her chair.
“Ok, why don’t we ask Tommy about it? Hear his side of the story”
“I already did but if you’d like to, be my guest” the woman says, standing up to open the door for Tommy. “Go on, tell your mom what you told me”
“I started the fight” Tommy mutters, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry”
“Are you ok? And Daniel?”
“Daniel only got a scratch on his arm. Look, this is a first time incident and Daniel’s parents were very understanding, so I’ll let you take the kids home and figure this out. But if it happens again…”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Principal Coleman. And you said, to take both kids?”
“Yeah, Billy’s pretty upset about it” the Principal says, opening the door for them. “He’s at the library waiting for you”
Wanda walks next to her son, her mind racing. This has never happened, there must a logical explanation. She tries to keep her cool, but when she sees Billy sitting at the library, pulling nervously at his hair, she feels like a girl again, lost and confused.
She doesn’t know what to do or how to make things better.
“Billy, let’s go home” she says, waiting for him to walk out. The boy avoids her eyes, rushing past them and running straight to the exit.
“Mom” Tommy says, but she’s too overwhelmed.
“Later, Tommy”
The ride home is silent. Wanda doesn’t even play music, holding on to the wheel until her knuckles turn white.
You’d know what to do to make it better.
But now you’re gone.
She barely has time to park before Billy runs out of the car, opening the door and going upstairs.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” Wanda says, still in the driver’s seat. Tommy looks away, shrugging his shoulders.
“Daniel was mean”
“That’s not an excuse to hit someone, you know better than that, Tommy” she scolds him. “You’re grounded, go to your room. We’ll talk about this later”
He steps out, his head down. Wanda is waiting for him to walk inside the house when she sees a woman with short, gray hair inspecting her garden.
“Hello. Can I help you?” Wanda says, clearly on edge. She’s not in the mood for any more surprises today.
And as the woman turns around, her jaw drops.
“Mom!”
“Hello, dear”
“Grandma!” Tommy runs back to her. “It’s you!”
“Oh, my! Look at you, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! You’re so tall” the woman says, hugging her grandson. “Where’s your brother? Did you leave school early?”
“Uh… let’s all get inside. Tommy, tell your brother to come back down, please” Wanda interrupts, knowing she’ll get unwanted advice about parenting as soon as her mother knows what happened at school today. “So, how… I mean when…”
“Mama, I hope your flight was good” Pietro walks up to the door, wrapping his mother in a hug.
“You knew she was coming” Wanda says, feeling her blood boiling.
That little Mama’s boy.
“Don’t make a fuss, Wanda” their mother scolds. “I’m just here to help. And I won’t be staying in your house, your neighbor rents a room down the street. Mrs. Davies, you probably know her”
“Yeah, of course I do” she answers, but her mother is already walking inside, inspecting Pietro.
“Now, how’s recovery? You look so thin, bratan. Oh! You got a dog!” the woman exclaims, Sparky running around her.
This is so not how she expected her day to go at all.
—
Wanda’s not allowed in the kitchen while her mother cooks, and she can’t clean either because that was the first thing Ekaterina Maximoff did as soon as she set foot in the house.
The list of things she can do to get distracted is drastically reduced, so she locks herself in her study, pretending to sketch.
But all she can think about is you.
This is exactly why she doesn’t like to have free time. The memories of how you filled every part of the house with laughter and love are just waiting around the corner to remind Wanda how badly she messed up.
She decides to check on the twins, who should be done with their homework around this time.
But only Billy’s in his bed, playing with a Rubik’s cube you gave him.
“Hey” Wanda says, as she opens the door. “Mind if I sit?”
Billy just shrugs his shoulders, eyes focused on the different colors of the puzzle.
“Wanna tell me what happened in school? Did Tommy really start the fight?”
Billy sighs, and then looks up.
“Daniel said some mean things. Like…”
“Like… sweetheart, you can tell me anything, I promise. I just want to understand what happened” Wanda reassures him, squeezing his hand.
“Daniel said he heard his dad talking about you and Y/N. How it wasn’t right that you were with her and that he was happy she was gone. And then… he said maybe now that Y/N wasn’t around I…” Billy covers his eyes, trying to hide the fact he’s crying.
“Come here” Wanda comforts him, her heart breaking. She’s sorry to say this, but she doesn’t blame Tommy for getting into a fight with Daniel, not after he said all those horrible things.
“He said that now that Y/N’s gone I was going to stop being a weirdo”
“My sweet boy, I am so sorry” Wanda says, kissing the top of his head. “What Daniel said is not ok and his father should teach him better. I promise you I will talk to him about it”
“Don’t be mad at Tommy, he was just upset” Billy asks, wiping the tears. “He misses Y/N and so do I”
“It’s ok” Wanda hugs her baby boy, rubbing his back in a soothing motion. She feels Billy relax against her, hugging her like he used to do before you left.
Correction.
Before Wanda kicked you out.
“Do you miss her?” he asks, his voice small. He knows his mother doesn’t want to talk about you. It upsets her too much.
“Of course I do”
“It’s just… it feels like you don’t care, Mama. Like you don’t even remember her at all” Billy says, crying more.
“I know. I’m not the best at this, darling. I guess I just miss her so much it hurts, and I rather not think about it at all. It’s a silly thing grown ups do”
“Do you know if she’s ok?”
“I think so. I hope so”
“Do you think she misses us too?”
“I’m sure she misses you and Tommy and Sparky”
Truth is, Wanda isn’t sure you have any love left for her. Not enough to miss her, at least.
—
The food tastes like home. Like the summers in the country side, or the cold days of winter where Wanda played with Pietro until Mama called them home for a dinner of warm soup and bread.
“Delicious” Pietro comments after the first bite and Wanda nods.
“I can never get the sauce for the Chkmeruli right” Wanda says, trying to figure out the missing ingredient. “Your is so much better, just like grandma’s”
“I’ll teach you how to get it right” Ekaterina promises. “The secret is in the amount of ingredients. And something that we’re not telling anyone else”
“Alright” Wanda nods.
“Now, boys. Tell me all about school. And your hobbies. Do you play videogames?”
Wanda watches her family interact, laughing at certain things, and looking at her mother with fascination.
There’s a certain guilt that takes over when she understands she wasted three years of her life for something that could have been solved with an honest conversation.
One day, her mother will be gone and she’ll regret not having spent more time with her.
There’s also another regret in the back of her mind.
She wishes you had met her mother.
“Excuse me for a moment” she says, standing up from the table and walking to the bathroom. She covers her mouth to stop from sobbing, but there are tears in her eyes and a weight in her stomach that doesn’t let her sleep or eat or live.
Wanda fucked up so badly and now she’ll never see you again.
“Oh, God” she says, trying to breath, and fix her makeup. She can’t let the boys see her like this.
It’s been an overwhelming day, that’s all.
I’m fine.
“Is everyone done? I’m cleaning the kitchen” she says as soon as she comes back, picking up the plates and rushing past her family.
The cleaning keeps her hands busy and mind at ease, but she's still humming a song, just to focus on something that isn’t those awful thoughts she just had.
“I’m sorry” Pietro says, walking with the help of his cane. “I know it feels like an ambush, and I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you’re not ok. The kids are always fighting with you, you do everything but talk about what happened and Y/N’s stuff are still in the garage. Maybe… fixing things with Mama can give you some perspective. I don’t know. I’m a burden most of the time, without being able to walk or do more around here. I just wanted to help”
Wanda keeps cleaning, never turning around to ackowledge her brother. He sighs, scratching the back of his head and turning to leave the kitchen.
“You’ll never be a burden, Pietro” is all Wanda says, finally turning to look at him. He smiles.
“Try to get some rest”
“You too”
“Oh, and Daniel definitely deserved to get his ass kicked”
“I agree” Wanda laughs. “Don’t tell the kids, though”
Pietro makes a motion, as if sealing his lips.
Their mom walks to hug him, saying goodbye for the day.
“You can sleep in my room, I can take the couch” Wanda offers.
“None of that. Mrs. Davies is excited over her very first guest and I won’t be the one to disappoint that sweet woman. Get some rest. Tomorrow I’m making borsch”
“You don’t have to cook, I can handle it”
“Of course I have to. Your brother needs to gain some weight!” the woman says, kissing her daughter in both cheeks. She says something in Sokovian about her children eating all that American food, walking out to Mrs. Davies house.
Wanda’s done with cleaning, and she goes upstairs to say goodnight to the kids.
“Hey. You’re not grounded. Ok?” Wanda says when Billy falls asleep, looking at Tommy. “Thank you for looking after your brother”
“I am older by ten minutes” he says, like Pietro always does. Wanda smiles, kissing his forehead.
“Sleep well, sweet boy”
And as she walks to her room, that feels so empty ever since that night one month ago, Wanda’s not sure how long she can handle pretending that one day, your abscence won’t hurt as much.
—
She could fix this.
You always fixed things.
Wanda had gotten the message. You disappeared, no calls or texts, not even to let her know where you were staying.
And when she tried to reach out, you never answered.
But now she was worried and scared, and most of all, sorry for the things she had said to you.
Wanda needed to apologize, to tell you how much she loved you.
But even if that was the only thing on her mind, she was standing outside the hospital, trying to gather the courage to come in.
“Wanda” a voice said behind her. Although it was familiar, Wanda was disappointed when she turned around and saw Carol Danvers.
“Hey… I was just… I was looking for Y/N”
“Oh. Uh… you haven’t heard?” Carol stumbled with her words, caught completely off guard.
“Heard what? Is Y/N ok?” Wanda’s heart began to race… maybe you were injured and it was exactly why you hadn’t replied to any of her messages, or answered the phone when she called.
“Yeah, uh… oh, crap” Carol looked over Wanda’s shoulder. “If I were you I’d run back to my car”
“What?” Wanda turned around, her eyes meeting Darcy’s.
“You!” the brunette barked, walking faster. “You’re about to find out why I got banned from lacrosse in college, Maximoff”
“Let’s calm down” Carol asked, stepping between the two of them.
“No! I will not calm down. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Wanda. You told Y/N everything she’s always been afraid of hearing. That you can’t trust her or the 'we’ll be better without you', fucking fantastic, really!”
“Darcy, come on, we should get back inside” Carol said, pleading with Maria to help her. But Darcy was not done.
“All this bullshit of making her move in with you and be a family for what? To kick her out just because you had a shitty day? Because she was saving a life?”
“I just… I know I screwed up, but if I could just talk to her…”
“Well, for that you’d have to get on a plane to Boston. Because Y/N quit” Darcy said, amused at Wanda’s shocked expression. “Yeah, my best friend left without a second thought because of you. Way to screw over everyone, Wanda”
“I didn’t want this to happen”
“That’s not good enough, unfortunately. You got lucky, because Danver’s here. But I’m being serious, if I see you again I’m gonna make an even bigger scene”
Maria went after Darcy, who was clearly pissed off, leaving Carol and Wanda outside of the hospital.
“Do you know if she’s ok?” Wanda asked, looking down.
“She doesn’t answer anyone’s calls or texts, Wanda. All I know is she quit one week ago and got on a plane to Boston”
“Right… Well, I better go” she said, biting her lip. “Thanks for keeping Darcy from killing me”
“Yeah, we’re understaffed with Y/N gone. So I can’t really let Darcy get arrested” Carol joked, though it was also one way of reminding Wanda her actions had impacted a whole group of people outside of her.
“See you” Wanda nodded, walking fast to her car. Chief Fury almost clashed against her, as Wanda was looking anywhere but the path in front of her.
“I’m sorry”
“Bet you are” the man grumbled, walking to the hospital.
Even another man in a motorcycle couldn’t keep from staring at Wanda, his blue eyes cold as ice.
So, Wanda got on her car, and left without lookig back.
She lost you. Forever.
—-
“Morning” a very upbeat voice speaks as Ekaterina walks down the stairs.
“Morning, Mrs. Davies” she says, smiling.
“Oh, please, call me Sharon. Would you like some coffee?”
“I’ll take some tea”
“Of course. Very healthy!” the woman says, getting everything ready. Ekaterina takes a moment to look around, admiring all the plants in the room and the flower wallpaper.
“Are you a gardener?”
“Only for fun” Sharon says, putting some biscuits in a plate. “Can I just say, I love your accent?”
Ekaterina smiles, but keeps from answering that. Though people were nice about it, she knew others had always been critical of her for not learning “proper” English when her family moved to America.
Which is why she was happy to return to Sokovia when things settled. The US was never her home, even if it was for her children.
“Was the family happy to see you?”
“Oh, yes. Especially my daughter” Ekaterina jokes, though it flies over Sharon’s head. Of course she doesn’t know that they have a complicated relationship. “I do hope she has been a good neighbor to you. I raised her to be kind”
“Oh, she’s great. Always baking stuff for everyone, the kids are very polite and well behaved too. She’s a great girl, just as Y/N. They were good together. I hope Y/N is doing ok” Sharon says, pouring every single detail that Ekaterina wanted to know.
Well, seems like it’s gonna be easier than she thought.
“Yes, this Y/N girl. Can you tell me more about her?” she says in a casual tone, and Sharon is happy to talk about you.
“Well, she moved to the neighborhood like two years ago. She’s a surgeon, always working. Honestly, very quiet but very nice. One time I fell in the sidewalk and she slept in the couch just to make sure someone was around in case I needed something”
Very impressive. It was the kind of thing that would make Ekaterina approve of anyone dating her children.
“And she was with Wanda?”
“Well… I’m not sure I should talk about this” Sharon hesitates for the first time.
“I’m just curious, as a mother…”
Ah, the mother card.
It works so well.
“Of course, you’re right! It’s not like I’ll tell you things you can’t figure out on your own” Sharon laughs, thinking of everything she remembers. “Well, Y/N lived across the street from Wanda, which is probably how they started talking. You know, young people understand each other better than us”
“So they were together?”
“Yes, I think Agatha saw them almost a year ago… on a date or something. And then, it was kinda nice to see Y/N around a bit more. Ya know, it was obvious she was spending more time at home, to help with the boys. They adore her. Always running around with her, playing. It was nice to see them all be a family” Sharon’s enthusiasm dies down.
“And then?”
“Humm” she says, sighing. “I honestly don’t know. The last time I saw Y/N she was walking out of the house and she got into her car. She didn’t have any bags or anything, so I just assumed she was going to the hospital… but then she never came back”
“And you have no idea what happened?” Ekaterina pushes forward, curious to check if the woman’s being honest.
“No, I’m sorry”
“Mudak”
“Oh, can I ask what that word means?” Sharon says, smiling. She loves learning new words.
“It means motherfucker” Ekaterina answers, her accent heavy.
“Wow, ok” Sharon giggles nervously. “You know who could have that information? Agatha. Yeah, her girlfriend works at the hospital. She’s kinda scary”
“Agatha or her girlfriend?”
“Both, definitely both”
“How can I speak to them?” Ekaterina says, trying to piece everything together.
She can manage scary. Especially when she’s looking for answers.
—
Billy’s in a mood again. He didn’t want to go to school, and he’s still refusing to go to soccer practice.
“Daniel’s gonna keep annoying me” he mutters.
“I will speak with his father today” Wanda says, driving them both to school. “I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, sweetheart”
“Y/N would kick his ass” Billy says in a low voice, but Wanda still hears.
“Don’t speak like that. And violence is not the answer”
“Yeah, well, Daniel’s a jerk, his dad too and I want to talk to Y/N. She’s the only one that can make everything right again”
“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling up to drop them off. “Y/N’s not coming back. You hear me? She’s gone. We don’t need her, we’ve been fine on our own our whole lives”
“You’re lying. I hate you” he says, running out of the car.
Wanda’s speechless.
This is the first time she’s had a fight with her sweet boys. The first time they’ve been mean or said something to hurt her.
She was expecting this as they got old, maybe 13. But now?
“Bye, Mom” Tommy says, walking after his brother. He’s nervous too. He knows he can’t get into any more trouble or he might get suspended, but Daniel’s not the nicest kid.
“Oh, damn it” she looks behind her to notice Billy left his lunch. “Kids!”
“Hey, Wanda” Richard calls for her. “Heard our guys had a little fight. I was hoping we could talk about it. Maybe over dinner?”
She resists the urge to roll her eyes. Is he really flirting right now?
“Yeah, I should actually…”
“No need to apologize, boys will be boys, right?”
“Apologize?” Wanda tilts her head, the way she always does when she’s pissed. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. And neither is Tommy”
“Well, he started the fight”
“No, Daniel was repeating the stupid things you say. Like how it’s wrong for two women to date. And he also insulted Billy” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “The way I see it, it’s the proverbial talk shit, get hit”
“Wow, ok, no need to get emotional”
“No, I’m not emotional. I’m just saying, if you ever say anything bad about Y/N or my kids and I get wind of it, I’m running you over with my car. See ya, Dick”
Fucking asshole.
Wanda can practically hear you say those words. Though you’d be a lot scarier, telling him all the ways in which he could get hurt using medical terms he wouldn’t even begin to understand.
You’d never let anything bad happen to your family.
Wanda decides to play the loudest music on the way back home. Yes, death metal from her emo phase -something you’d tease her for relentlessly before-.
As she pulls over in the driveway, her mother knocks on the window, making Wanda jump.
“Why are you still listening to that devil music? I thought that phase was over!”
“Mom!”
“Are you ok?”
“Fine”
“Yeah, I can tell”
“Ok, I don’t have time for this, I need to drive Pietro to rehab. Do you need anything from the store?”
“Yes, many things! Like actual paprikash. I can’t believe you buy US made. That’s why you can’t get the food right”
“Seriously?”
“Settle down, you two” Pietro asks, coming out of the house. It was a fun time, being a teenager and hearing his sister and mother argue over every single thing. They’re too much alike, that’s the only problem.
“Anyways, I will go to store, Sharon is letting me drive her car”
“Ok, does she know about the time you almost destroyed a McDonald’s with Papa’s car?”
“He said drive through, so I did!”
“Yeah, through the wall” Pietro laughs, earning a slap on the back of the head from his mother.
“You, go to your thing. And I’m picking up Billy from school today. He doesn’t want to go do soccer, so we’re going to get ice cream” Ekaterina says casually.
“It’s not optional for him! I’m the mom here”
“Just for a day. I hardly think it will affect him if he doesn’t run around like dog after a ball. Take Sparky instead” the woman says.
Wanda wants to scream into a pillow.
—
Ekaterina comes back from the store, but instead of parking outside of Wanda’s, she leaves the car right outside of Agatha’s home.
The investigation continues.
After a knock, a woman with dark, long hair and piercing blue eyes opens the door.
“You the OG Mrs. Maximoff” she greets, standing aside to let her in.
“I don’t know what those words mean. I’m Wanda and Pietro’s mother”
“Ooh, I love the accent. I love learning languages. My girlfriend is teaching me Spanish”
Before Ekaterina can answer, there’s a frantic knock, and Sharon walks inside the minute Agatha opens the door.
“I hope I’m not too late”
“I didn’t know we were having a party” Agatha says. She doesn’t really like visitors, and Mrs. Davies' enthusiasm and corny jokes are an acquired taste.
“Alright. What do you want to know?” Agatha leans back in her chair, intrigued by the woman.
Why not just ask her own daughter? Though, considering how Wanda’s been acting, she’ll probably refuse to answer any questions about it.
“Why did Y/N leave? Where did she go?”
“Ok, so… I need a minute because Rio was telling me everything in Spanish so I could learn. You know, using gossip as motivation” Agatha massages her temples, trying to remember everything. “Ok, there was a new doctor, something, something, cheating, slapping, break up”
“What?” Ekaterina says. “Are you saying that woman slapped my daughter?”
“No! Well, I don’t think so. Ah, screw it! Amor!” Agatha shouts, calling for Rio. “Ponte ropa y baja a contarles el chisme”
“Está bien” a voice says. A few minutes later, another woman joins them in the living room, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
“You called?”
“Ok, so I kinda lied when I said I understood everything you said in Spanish. I do remember the name Natasha. And something about a kiss” Agatha smiles, and Rio can’t really stay mad when her girlfriend is looking all cute.
“So, a few months ago, Natasha Romanoff came to the hospital to teach a method developed by her mother. The Romanoffs are a very wealthy, very famous family of doctors. And everyone in the hospital kinda noticed that Natasha was flirting with Y/N”
“Did Y/N flirt back? Was she cheating on my daughter?”
“I meaaan, 50/50. The hospital was split. Some people believed that she was just being nice and others thought there were feelings involved”
“What do you think?” Ekaterina presses.
“I think Y/N was just being flirty but she never meant for anything else to happen. She’s just naturally personable. Even she can manage to make me laugh from time to time. So, I don’t know. There was a rumor that Natasha kissed her once or was trying to talk her into breaking up with Wanda… which, I guess has some truth to it, considering Y/N moved to Boston to work for the Romanoffs”
“I’m sorry, then who slapped who?” Mrs. Davies asks, confused.
“Oh, Y/N’s mother outside the hospital, but that's not related to Wanda. Darcy told me that woman is awful. Used to put Y/N through hell when she was a kid”
“Yeah, I know the feeling” Agatha mumbles and Rio places her hand on her shoulder, comforting her.
“I don’t like this Y/N” Ekaterina decides. “She was weak and got my family hurt”
“I don’t think that’s exactly accurate…” Agatha says, feeling the need to defend you. She knows you, and you’d never do anything to hurt Wanda. Not on purpose. “Look, I was looking for my bunny that night. Little shit likes to escape out of the blue. Wanda was the one who ended things. I heard that loud and clear. And yes, it seems messy, but I don’t think it’s fair to blame it all on someone”
“Yeah, Y/N really loved the kids and took care of Wanda” Sharon insists. Ekaterina sighs, crossing her arms.
“I don’t suppose anyone knows how to get in touch with Y/N”
Agatha, Rio and Sharon share a look.
“I could try” Rio offers, thinking Darcy might be in touch with you.
“Thank you. Now I go to pick up Billy from school. I appreciate your help”
“I actually need the car for a bit” Sharon asks, but the woman is already gone. “Oh, well”
—
True to her word, Ekaterina picked up Billy from school, while Tommy was supposed to ride with Sharon and her kid to soccer.
Wanda wasn’t really looking forward to practice today, in case Richard was there.
Thankfully, it seemed like Daniel was here with his mother, but Wanda’s stomach dropped when Susan walked up to her.
“Wanda, can we talk for a sec?”
“Yeah, sure”
They walked away from the rest of the parents.
“Look, I know what Daniel said and I already talked to him about it. He’ll apologize to Tommy and Billy, but I wanted to tell you personally how asahmed I am. Those awful things are all Richard and I really don’t want Daniel to be like his father”
“Oh… wow. I don’t know what to say” Wanda laughs, relieved. “Your ex had a very different approach to this whole situation”
“I know, he’s an asshole”
Both women laugh at that.
“I was going to say, he can speak to Tommy after practice, but I haven’t seen him today. Or Billy”
“Oh, Billy’s with my mother. But Sharon picked up Tommy…” though when Wanda looks around the field, she doesn’t see her son. Spotting Sharon, she runs up to her. “Hey, Tommy rode with you, right?”
“What? Wanda, he said he was feeling ill and that you were going to pick him up”
“No, that never… I-I don’t have any missed calls. No one from school told me anything. Shit!” she curses, her hands shaking. Her mother takes forever to pick up the phone. “Is Tommy with you? No, I know Billy’s there. What about Tommy? Ok, I don’t have time to explain, meet me at home now”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think to call you” Sharon says.
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine” Wanda repeats, trying to calm herself.
Her first instinct is to call you.
But then she has to think really hard on what to do, so she calls Pietro to make sure Tommy isn’t home by some weird miracle. Should she call the cops? The fire department?
Clint, he will know what to do.
“Ok, I’ll meet you at your house, it’s gonna be fine” Clint says.
“You good to drive?” Susan says, walking Wanda to the car.
“Yes. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding and Tommy’s in his room playing videogames”
“Well, ok, if you need anything here’s my number” the woman says.
Wanda goes over everything that could have happened. Tommy likes to visit the library, the park on Fullton street, the comic book store…
Clint’s already there when she gets home, and Ekaterina parks a second later.
“Billy, come here” Wanda kneels to look at her son. “Did Tommy tell you anything? Was he going somewhere?”
Billy shakes his head no, and Wanda insists.
“Sweetheart, are you sure? I promise I won’t be mad”
“I don’t know, I swear”
“Alright, I just spoke to my friend at the station. They’re gonna start looking for him. Pietro should stay here in case Tommy comes back or someone calls home. The rest of us could split and check places we know he frequents” Clint says.
“Billy, stay with uncle Pietro” Wanda asks. The boy nods, walking up the stairs to meet his uncle, who puts his arm around his shoulders.
“I’ll go to the arcade” Clint offers. “Ask if anyone’s seen him”
“We’ll go to the park” Wanda nods, waiting for her mother to join her in the car. She can’t even begin to understand what’s happening.
Wanda doesn’t know what to do, but she has to remain calm, because her son needs her.
—
Tommy’s begining to think this is a bad idea. He doesn’t have a lot of money and he doesn’t have a clue on what bus will take him to Boston.
He should be at soccer practice now.
He finds a cafeteria not far from school, and goes inside hoping he can get some free water.
“You alone, sweetheart?” the waitress says, concerned.
“No, my mom is in the bathroom” he lies and the woman doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Either way, she leaves him alone. Tommy takes the time to dig in his backpack for some extra coins that might be in there.
Instead he finds a letter and a couple of pins.
After reading it, he walks up to the waitress and finally tells the truth.
“I ran away. Can you help me find my mom?”
“Of course, sweetheart”
—-
“Where should we go?” her mother asks, and Wanda points in the direction of the lake.
“He liked to feed the ducks with Y/N”
“Ok, then”
They walk in silence, Wanda’s thoughts racing until her mother speaks.
“I lost you once. You were four or five, maybe, and we were at the market. While your brother picked out the apples, you decided to run after a chicken. And I was so scared, calling for you in the sea of people”
“Yeah. It’s an awful feeling” Wanda says, wiping away the tears.
They walk around the park for ten minutes before deciding he’s not here. Tommy’s nowhere to be found. He’s a ten year old, for God’s sake, where on Earth could he be?
Before she has time to think it twice, Wanda picks up the phone and dials your number.
“Hello?”
That’s not your voice.
It’s Natasha’s.
Wanda hangs up, and adds this to the list of shitty things that have happened to her in the span of two days.
“Mom, I can’t!” she finally breaks down. “I don’t know how to fix this. I miss her so much and I ruined everything and she’s never coming back. And now my boys hate me and I have nothing. All because I was so stuck in the past. And I lost her”
“Breathe. Breathe for me” Ekaterina pulls her daughter into a hug, while Wanda’s body shakes with the strenght of her sobs. “It’s ok. It will be ok”
“It doesn’t feel like it”
“Trust me” she says, waiting until Wanda calms down. After a few minutes, she wipes her tears and looks at her mother. Wanda’s about to say something else when her phone rings again.
“Oh, it’s Clint. Hello? Yes, where? Ok, send me the address and I’ll be right there” she hangs up, sprinting to the car. “He’s at a cafeteria not far from school”
“Thank God”
It’s only a five minute drive but to Wanda it feels like an eternity. As soon as she parks, she spots Tommy sitting at the counter, drinking a milkshake while a waitress talks to him, trying to ease his nerves.
“Is that your mom?” the woman says when Wanda gets inside. Tommy’s eyes widen, and he runs towards her.
“Mama!”
“Oh, Tommy. I was so worried about you”
“I’m sorry”
“It’s ok. I’m just happy you’re safe. Let’s go home”
—
The kids are safely tucked in bed, and Wanda’s having a glass of wine in the kitchen. She’d drink something stronger if she had anything at all.
Her mind goes back to the fact Natasha picked up your phone.
It doesn’t mean you’re with her. And even if you were, Wanda was the one that broke up with you.
Then why did it hurt so much to think you’d already moved on?
With a sigh, she goes up the stairs. Wanda can’t help but go into her children’s room, just to make sure they’re both safe.
When she asked Tommy what happened, he just said he wanted to go and see you. But then he changed his mind when he found something in his backpack. Though he wouldn’t tell Wanda what it was.
As the woman walks up to her children, she notices a letter tucked under Tommy’s pillow.
Could this be the thing he found?
Billy and Tommy,
Hey kiddos. This isn’t something I’m happy about and I never really wanted to write a letter like this one.
You might not see me anymore. I know it sucks, because I promised I’d take you to the state fair and Universal Studios when the school year was over.
The thing is, sometimes grown ups have a lot of complicated things going on. Sometimes things don’t work out no matter how much we try.
Be good to your mom, ok? If you miss me and want me to be less worried about you, just promise me you’ll love her extra for me. You are her biggest treasure and she’s such a great mom. Don’t forget you’re all each other have.
PS - I’m leaving my lucky pins with you. Please take care of them for me.
Love you three,
Y/N
Of course.
Of course it was you.
Even if you were thousand of miles away, you had found a way to help Wanda and keep her family safe.
Now she won’t be able to sleep at all, so she goes downstairs to the garage, full of boxes with your clothes and books.
For the first time since you left, Wanda allows herself to look at everything you left behind, and everything you did. The smallest things, like how you always forget to wear glasses to read, and you end up with a frown. Sunday’s crossword puzzle, always discarded. It’s not that you don’t finish it, the opposite. You know the answers to everything so fast that writing them is a waste of time.
Wanda pulls out your college sweatshirt, hugging it tight against her chest.
She misses you, so much it hurts.
As she puts on the sweatshirt, Wanda folds the sleeves, slightly long for her shorter arms.
When she’s about to close the box, she sees it.
A small box. For a ring.
An engagement ring.
She let’s out a gasp as she opens it.
You were proposing.
And all Wanda did was question your committment and your love for her and the children.
I’m such an idiot.
She doesn’t have much time to wallow, though. Wanda’s phone rings, and her mouth goes dry when she reads the name on the screen.
You.
Looking between her phone and the ring, Wanda doesn’t know what to do.
Should she tell you she found the ring?
Would it make a difference at all?
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taking care of 𓂃 rafe cameron while he’s spiraling
⟳⠀ a little inebriated rafe ⟳⠀after an argument with ward
⊹ you blinked into the open space of your room, slowly collecting your coherence as you listened to the voice over the phone. it took a second to realize you were hearing rafe mumbling, not sounding like himself. you quickly jolted up in bed at his quiet, but frantic words.
“i just don’t get why everything i do goes unnoticed.. unappreciated. i saved him. she didn’t do anything but run off and betray us. i got the cross. i killed that sheriff for him. me, rafe.. i don’t understand what happened with us..”
it broke your heart to hear his voice crack. you nursed your phone against your cheek, letting him get everything out. where was he? did his words sound partially slurred or was that your still half asleep mind? but you were so glad he called you in a moment this vulnerable. after months of being with rafe, he had a habit of keeping his feelings in and not letting you into his mind. despite this, you constantly told him you were always there if he needed an outlet.
you heard a dry chuckle across the line. “he even tried to blame you. my precious girl.. does he know how much i didn’t know i needed you? he can’t even begin to understand the love we share. he doesn’t have someone to take care of him like you do with me. he crossed the line when he mentioned you.. i just lost it..”
you placed a hand over your mouth, letting his words and current state settle in. you couldn’t let yourself get focused on ward’s thoughts of you. you knew he wasn’t a good man. you knew he didn’t deserve rafe’s respect. after months of knowing this, and knowing the fights he and rafe got into, never was it like this. this truly was breaking you.
you softly sniffled, not realizing you were getting worked up. “it’s okay, baby. it’s okay to let out that frustration. i’m so proud of you for letting yourself feel it. i’m even prouder you called me. that’s so good, rafe.”
you heard him breathing over the line, not speaking for a second. you took this opportunity to find out his whereabouts.
“um.. do you know where you are right now? can you see any signs?” you got up, walking to your closet to throw on a jacket and slip on a pair of shoes, waiting for him to answer.
it was another second of silence before he responded quietly, prompting you to listen closer. “i needed to hear your voice. i know you told me you’d be an outlet, but i didn’t think i’d have to use that outlet, but i needed it..”
you paused after grabbing your keys, listening intently, clinging on to his every word.
“..i needed to hear you. that makes everything better. i can’t see you right now, and i can’t let you see me, but i needed to feel you somehow.”
you slightly panicked at rafe telling you, you couldn’t see him. “rafe, i already see you even if i physically can’t. but i would really like to see you. do you think you could tell me where you are, handsome?” you didn’t let your voice portray your desperation too much. you didn’t want to let him know he was worrying you. then, he really wouldn’t let you go near him. not if he knew he was making you scared.
you could hear chatter grow louder around him as he answered. “i..” he pushed out a heavy sigh. “..i’m not disappointing you, am i? because i.. i won’t tell you if you’re disappointed in me right now. i’ll fix it.. i’ll fix myself and give you time to think.. i can’t have you upset with me..” he voice broke off softly at the end.
you were out of your room and outside, heading towards your car as he finished his sentence. “rafe, i think it’s impossible for me to feel anything diminishing about you. that feeling doesn’t exist inside of me. there is nothing, rafe, you could do or say that would make me view you differently from the caring and gentle hearted man you are.”
you were pressing on the gas, making your way toward where you knew rafe was without him having to say it.
this time it was him that sniffled, and you couldn’t grip the wheel tighter at the sound. he affirmed your thought of his location after a beat of still silence from his side.
“this might be impossible for rafe cameron, but can you please stay still?” you softly chuckled, attempting to lighten the tone, panic easing from you now that you were making your towards him.
“yeah, i’ll try” was his muttered response.
you were pulling up to the restaurant a few minutes later, rushing out of your car and looking around for rafe.
it wasn’t long before you spotted him outside at a high rise table, his head hanging slighty over his arms that were pressed atop of the table. standing tall, and standing oddly still. doubt didn’t dawn on you that rafe would listen, but him literally holding himself still was something you weren’t expecting. you softly shook your head, walking up to him.
he saw you from his peripheral, but sensed you before he actually knew you were approaching. turning his head, his expression couldn’t seem to turn softer and his posture more relaxed.
his face started to crumble, and you quickly reached around him to pull him into a hug, tugging his head down to rest on your shoulder.
you couldn’t feel the clawing and gripping of his hands as he tried to hold you inhumanly closer. only relief that he was in your arms now, and not afar over the phone.
“i’m sorry..” he softly uttered into your top. “..i’m sorry you have to see me like this.. but it’s messed up that i don’t care. i needed to feel you, to touch you, even if it meant you seeing me this way..”
you dug your face into his side, willing your eyes to not produce the tears you felt coming on.
“i can’t.. i won’t let go. you’re gonna leave if i let go, and you can’t leave me. you can’t..”
he spoke so softly you knew it was a thought that he didn’t mean to say out loud.
you reared back, pulling up his head to face you. the sorrow in his eyes felt like the last tug at your heart to finally pull it from its strings.
“i’m never letting go, so you can’t.”
rafe’s arms came down, his hands both cupping over one of your hands. you took it as the sign rafe was ready to leave. was ready to only be near you.
you turned, walking back towards your car, feeling his hands tighten. you went to open the passenger side for rafe when he pulled you back, halting you.
you turned towards him to ask what was wrong when he pulled the back door open instead. he nodded his head into the opening, gesturing for you to climb in first. you did so, not once letting his hands slip from your one. rafe was right behind you, closing the door behind him.
you laid your legs out, letting him settle between them and rest himself against you. he was holding you up to your promise of never letting him go.
you wrapped your arms around him, listening to his breathing. he had done so much talking, it was time for you to return it.
“you’re perfect to me. for me. if no one else can see your worth, they’re not worth your time, rafe. there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. i am so, so glad you called me. it doesn’t hurt seeing you like this as much as it would hurt to know you were going through this alone. there’s nowhere i would rather be than right here with you.”
rafe settled closer into you, always needing to be so close to you it seemed as if you shared the same skin.
“i don’t need anyone but you. i only need you seeing me and really knowing me.. can you just hold me for right now? please.”
as if you would ever deny him. “of course. whatever you need.”
it was a second before you heard him mutter something, not aware he was responding to what you said.
“just you.”
ϧ𝑒ׅ ࣪
#۶ৎ rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe blurb#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x reader
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Origin Story
Pairing: Alpha Alexia Putellas/Omega Reader, Omega Mapi León/Omega Reader, Alpha Ingred Engen/Omega Reader,
Summary: You get invited to a Barca game by an Alpha at your school who wouldn't accept.
Tags/Warnings: Dubious consent, Bathroom sex, scent marking,
Note: Only is Mapi the only one in this but there will probs be a part 2 with the rest of the pack.
The only reason I've been writing lately is @insomniakisses who definitely doesn't know I exist but I love their blog.
Something about their writing has inspired me for better or worse.
Wordcount: 1.1K
When you got invited to the Barca vs Real Madrid Game by a girl at your college of course you accepted. She was in a couple of your classes but all you knew about her is that she is an alpha and is kind of a dick. But you would be crazy not to know how expensive tickets are and surely she can’t be as bad as everyone says. But this girl surely has another motive for inviting you. It will come to light soon as you sit next to each other in the crowded stadium. Her scent is aggressive forward and fills the space around you it's almost like Lily and maybe an undertone of patchouli. Overall not the best when you're already surrounded by unfamiliar scents.
You can’t help but grow excited as they walk out. Okay, so you may have a major crush on some of the players. By some you mean most but it makes since it’s pretty common knowledge that the different teams are packs. Which makes transfers even more devastating. Even so, everyone knows that Barca has two omegas already which is already more than most other packs. They differently don’t need another which is devastating to you but it's not like you could ever be with them anyway. It’s rare for a Futbal pack to mate with someone outside of the football world.
It’s around 20 minutes in before Maddie, whose name you’ve just learned, takes off her sweater revealing that she is wearing a Real Madrid jersey. “Are you seriously wearing that right now?” You ask incredulously. “Ya Real Madrid is going to win, I promise you. They are the superior team,” she responded as if you were stupid for thinking any different. “Barca is definitely better, they have a stacked roster.” You argue back, growing more annoyed. Most likely due to her attitude problem and overwhelming scent. “Real Madrid will win” She seems so assured of herself as if she can already see the outcome of the game. “That's never going to happen. I bet you Barca will win and If they don’t I will write your next essay for you.”. “Deal”
It's not even 10 minutes later that Hansen scores and you're left with a smile on your face. It’s a good feeling to know your rights. Maybe you’ll pick up a sweet treat on the way home. You deserve it after dealing with this idiot. But it's all worth it for free tickets. “I told you” You gloat but only a little. “They're going to pull through one goal doesn’t mean anything,” Maddie responds sharpley her scent turning sour. “One goal can be the difference between winning and losing” You count to praud her mostly for your amusement. “ You think I don’t know that. I know football better than you.” She growls her fangs obvious in her aggressive state. So maybe you fucked with her a little too much but god it was so funny. “Sorry,” You startle as Pajor scores. You definitely made the right choice when picking a team to support.
By the end of the game, you are bursting with excitement a 5-0 win is crazy. You can feel Maddie seething beside you but it doesn’t sour your mood. As you move to stand at the barricade watching the players trade jerseys and such. Then Mapi Leon comes to your section and you're practically vibrating as she strips off her jersey. She walks closer to you her scent is so strong probably from running for so long. “ Would you like it?” She asks looking directly into your eyes. It's like a shock to your system “Yes” You take it from her gratefully and she flashes a toothy grin. “You so pretty princess” Her voice is so low. “Thank you” You can’t help but blush as she sprints off to join her team.
You gather up your things and walk out of the stadium with Maddie. You are starting to feel overheated and are growing quickly annoyed by Maddie. Her mood has only seemed to worsen since the end of the game. The heated feeling only grows as you move through the stadium. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before we leave.” You split off from Maddie not waiting to hear her response. You have all your things if she leaves you it won’t be the end of the world. You slip into the bathroom and lock yourself in. You lean against the wall and take a deep breath of the jersey. It smells strongly of citrus and has an undertone of cinnamon. It soothes some of the heat under your skin.
You startle as the bathroom opens and someone else steps inside. It takes a moment for their scent to register. Citrus and cinnamon same as the jersey. You open the stall door and peek out to see Mapi standing by the door looking directly at you. “I thought I could smell you in here” She hurried towards you and pushed you back into the stall. “What are you doing” You ask dropping the jersey as she grabs your wrist. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You smell so good” She nuzzles her face into your neck. “Let me have you please” She whispers her accent thicker than before. “You want me but you have Ona if you want an omega” You reason. Sure you want this but you want her to think clearly. “I can and have had Ona but I want you. Once I have had you im sure they will want you as well.” she pushes you into the wall and slides a hand down your pants. Her fingers trace along your cunt through your underwear. “Say yes please I need you” She whimpers into your shoulder tonguing at your scent gland. “Yes. Yes please” you moan rolling your hips against her hand. She slides her fingers past your underwear to rub at your clit. ‘Take me please I need it too bad.”You moan grinding against her. “Shh you can have it see” she slips two fingers inside you with ease. It makes you uncomfotbly aware of how slick you are. It only last a second before shes distracting you by moving her fingers and using her other hand to rub at you clit.
You cum twice before Mapi finally lets up. As you catch you breath she is collecting your things and straightening out your clothes and hair. “ Come with me we are having dinner tonight. Please,” she asks tacting on the please almost as an afterthought. “I'll go but I've got school tomorrow and I really can’t afford to miss any more of my lectures this semester.” You explain as the two of you head out of the stall. Mapi stops to wash her hands before leading you out of the stadium.
#woso x reader#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso soccer#woso one shot#woso#mapi león#mapi leon x reader
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Late Nights On Kitchen Floors Sometimes Lead To Confessions
Summary: You come home late one night to find your roommate Jason sobbing on the kitchen floor.
Warnings and A/N: some negative self-thoughts on Jason’s side. In this fic Jason is feeling a lot of feelings :) because we love our men crying and traumatized. Pre-relationship! This is my first time writing for Jason so I hope I did him justice. Written in the second person, gender neutral reader, I tried to make reader as inclusive as possible so if I missed something please let me know! JUSTKNOW that my heart broke while writing this. (final note, I wrote this at 4am so don’t judge me)
Words: 0.9k
I also posted this on ao3 if you want!!
Click
You secure the last of the locks on your door as you start to take your boots off along with your coat. Immediately as you stepped in your mind went into autopilot, following your routine so effortlessly that only after what was definitely too many seconds do you notice a heaving sound coming from your kitchen.
“Jason?”
The words leave your mouth with a tinge of hope that it was just him and not a break-in you’d have to deal with at this ungodly hour in the morning. You check the time with a flick of your phone. 2:14am.
You receive no response and reach for the bat Jason insisted you left hidden in the umbrella stand. You can never be too safe were his exact words and you’d honestly have to thank him if you made it out tonight. It’s only when you cross the door that you see him: Jason and all of his 6 feet of muscles are scrunched up into a wavering ball, his hands clutching his clothes and his head planted into his knees. All this time you’ve known him and yet he has never looked as vulnerable as he does now, on your dusty crumble-covered floor with tears in his eyes.
At first no words come out of your mouth, how could they? You’ve talked to Jason just a couple of hours ago on your phone, he called saying he just wanted to hear your voice. He was fine earlier. He was. He asked how your day was. He listened, hanging off your every word. But now here he was in front of you, a broken shell of a man.
Trying to not startle him you get closer and call out his name again. This time he hears you.
He lifts his head and you can see smudged tear stains all over his face probably from an attempt to erase them. An hiccup escapes him and your heart breaks.
“Oh baby,” you scooch in front of him and take his face in your hands.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
He can’t speak. The words are jabbed in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He opens his mouth but nothing other than a strangled sound comes out. You start petting his hair.
“Hey, hey, it’s fine, you don’t have to say anything alright?”
You settle on the floor and try to maneuver his body onto yours, his head on your shoulder. His body adapts to yours, his arms wrap around you and he feels like everything is going to be alright. One of your hands runs up and down his spine in a soothing manner while the other is nestled in his hair.
A couple of minutes pass and you’re still holding him. Jason thinks he likes it. Being held, that is.
After some more time his head lifts from your shoulder and your hands move to his forearms, caressing the skin there. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.
“I, ehm…” Jason’s gaze lays low and his hands start to play with yours. “I have to tell you something.”
You nod and tell him to take his time. He bites his lip, still looking down.
“I- Fuck, I messed this up. I really did. This was gonna be so much more romantic I swear. I was gonna- I was gonna invite you to that one bookstore we always go to, I was going buy you all the books you set your eyes on and- and I planned a walk through the park- the one- the one you like-” his voice keeps breaking and hiccuping, “-and walk through the flowerbeds and maybe if the day had gone well I would have had the courage to hold your hand.” he wipes a tear off his face with the palm of his hand.
You try to speak but he speaks first.
“I like you. I really really like you. I wanted to do this well, tomorrow, but- I don’t know. I got too much in my own head and I’m-” Jason bites his lip and tears fill his eyes again, “I’m really sorry this is how I confess, you deserve so much better, so much better and I’m a mess and, and-” you grab his face and force him to look at you.
“Jason Peter Todd, you listen to me carefully.” his big teary eyes look at your stern ones, “The only reason I’m not kissing you right now is because you deserve a beautifully romantic first kiss because you like beautifully romantic things. You deserve all the wonderful things this world has to offer.”
Jason thinks his heart has never felt so warm.
“Wha-what?”
His words make you giggle and now he thinks his heart might actually implode.
“I like you.”
“I like you too.”
Now your giggle turned into a proper laugh which made Jason smile.
“Yeah, that was pretty obvious from the earlier declaration of love.” Now he’s giggling too.
“Does that ehm- does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?” You giggle again at the innocence in his voice and Jason thinks he’d die all over again just for a chance to hear you laugh one more time.
“Yes, yes it does. Only if you take me to that date you were talking about though.”
He smiles. “We could go now.”
Your eyes widen. “Now? At 2am?”
He shrugs. “I’m Red Hood. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”
You scoff. “Yeah alright, but I think the bookstore might be closed.”
“Ah. Right. Tomorrow then.”
“Eager?”
His smile only gets bigger. “Duh, I have a girlfriend to take out.”
Thank you for reading!! Constructive criticism/advice is always welcome!
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#dc#i love my men crying and sobbing#he's a babygirl#jason todd loves books#hope you liked this!!#wrote this instead of sleeping#first time writing for jason#red hood x reader
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bound by shadows — caleb
warnings — yandere caleb, written before i read the main story and his myth, saw some quotes on other apps, slight angst, no fluff
notes — knock knock its user raffswife here my old account is broken for some reason lets hope its not the same here </3 tags: @aomiiine
caleb doesn’t understand why you’re so afraid of him.
he’s keeping you safe from people who want to hurt you, from those who would use you for the aether core inside your body. his house is the safest place in skyhaven — no one can reach you here, not without caleb’s permission, at least.
so why are you cowering on your bed, looking at him with those fearful eyes? why are you leaning away from his touch? he wants to take care of you, not hurt you.
“caleb… please let me go,” you beg for the tenth time today, refusing to take the food he’s given you. “i promise i’ll come back when my mission is done- just… please let me go outside.”
“can’t do that, princess,” caleb murmurs quietly. “you know how much i hate it when you go out by yourself. besides, didn’t i tell you how dangerous it is right now? people are coming after you, pipsqueak.”
pipsqueak. the nickname you used to love as a little girl now sends shivers down your spine. you hate it when caleb gets like this — possessive and obsessed with you. sure, having him around keeps the weird guys away, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay with him stopping you from going out and meeting your friends.
he gets ridiculously jealous. the first time he saw you hanging out with a male coworker — who, mind you, has a girlfriend (now fiancée) — he wouldn’t let it go for weeks.
it doesn’t make sense. what happened to the sweet boy you’ve known since you were five? the boy who used to cook your favorite meals when you returned from missions? the boy who promised he’d do anything to make you happy?
“caleb, i don’t want to be locked up in here forever!” you exclaim, pulling at his uniform, desperation laced in your tone. “i have a life outside of this. i-i want to be able to work, have fun, and live my normal life again. i don’t need you to-”
“you don’t need me? is that what you think?” caleb grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his uniform. “tell me. what do you need? we can go back to linkon if that’s what you want. if you want to return to our past, we’ll rebuild our old house and move in together.” his grip on your wrist tightens. “and if one house isn’t enough, i’ll build you a whole maze. i’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want,” he says, bringing a hand to your face and gently cupping your left cheek. “it will be the most beautiful, stunning garden you’ve ever seen.”
“caleb, you can’t just-”
“no one will ever find you again. i’ll protect you forever,” caleb cuts you off, his eyes showing no room for argument. you don’t even know what to say. caleb is terrifying when he (or the toring chip) acts like this. it doesn’t matter if he insists he’s the same old caleb from your childhood — he just doesn’t feel like your caleb anymore.
“caleb…” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks. you don’t know what else to say. it’s too overwhelming when he becomes like this. his touch, words, basically everything about him is suffocating.
“shh,” caleb says, gently wiping the tears from your eyes. “don’t cry, pipsqueak. you know i hate it when i see you cry.” he smiles softly as your tears begin to dry. “i promise you, once everyone who wants to hurt you or use you for your aether core disappears, you’ll finally be safe.”
#ᯓᡣ𐭩 yumei's writings#caleb#caleb x reader#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb x y/n#caleb angst#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x mc#love and deepspace x y/n#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace angst#lads#lads x reader#lads caleb#lads x you#lads x y/n#lads x mc#lads angst
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Shy!reader who wears a different uniform skirt in order to get Bully!Satoru’s attention and it works a little too well. He starts flipping up the back of her skirt when he walks past her to ruffle her feathers a bit. (he might have snuck a picture of two of what you looked like under that fabric.)
Bully!Satoru who continues to write you small notes and slip them in your bag but they’ve become nastier than before. Having things written on them like
“What a shame it would be for those pretty panties to be torn open with my cock stuffing your pussy to the brim.”
or
“Don’t you know prancing around in short skirts is just an invitation for me to do whatever I want to you?”
Bully!Satoru who continues tripping you when walking in the halls. This time though, it’s because he wants to press his hard erection into the plush feeling of your ass. He’ll lean down innocently so people don’t suspect him, “been thinkin’ of that gooey cunt all day bunny.”
Bully!Satoru who comes over occasionally to “help with homework” and always starts the session off with bruising the back of your throat so you can barely speak the next day.
This way he can purr nasty nothings into your ear and all you’re able to do is listen and take it.
Bully!Satoru who steals your lunch forcing you to come crying to him. “Beg me real nicely bunny, and i’ll give your lunch back.” But when you embarrass yourself by begging him kindly he gives you the box back to find it’s been eaten leaving you hungry and disappointed.
Bully!Satoru who is called out all the time for somehow finding a way to talk about you to his friends. Suguru teases you about it too when he can!
“So you’re the pretty little thing Satoru is hung up on?”
Two dark eyes rake over the little uniform that adorned your body. “He wasn’t lying about you.” And with that Suguru walked off, simply leaving you with a dumbfounded look.
Shy!Reader who stops Satoru in the hallway the next time you see him with an aggravated expression on your face. Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you pushed a hard finger into the man’s chest. “What did you say about me to Suguru?”
Satoru’s shocked face pulls into a coy smile, eyes narrowing so he can lean into your space. “Why? I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true.”
“What did you say Satoru!”
Hearing his name on your lips sends shivers down his spine, loving how upset you were. His voice dropped lower, seeing how many people were turning heads to see where the commotion sourced from.
His lips graze the thin skin of your ear. “I told him how good your pussy feels around my dick. Told him about the way your face would scrunch up when you were about to c-“
A sharp *Slap!* echoed between you. Tears pour from your eyes at the embarrassment, angry at the misogynistic things Satoru said about you. It was hard to think of all the things you’ve done with Satoru knowing he must’ve told Suguru at some point. It felt invasive.
Bully!Satoru who felt like shit after you left. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as you hurried out of school, away from the staring eyes. He knew he fucked up bad when you refused to answer his texts over the next few days, leaving him either on read or delivered.
He couldn’t stand the distance any longer. Saturday finally rolled around after you missed two days of school. The two days that you were gone felt like hell to him, whispers about what might’ve happened to make you slap him caused a certain edge to stick around. Satoru made his way to your house, knocking softly on the front door hoping you would listen to what he had to say. He could hear your feet pad up to the door watching the knob turn softly.
“Satoru?”
“Hi bunny,” his words are sugary sweet. You’ve never seen such an apologetic expression on Satoru’s face and honestly it was shocking to see him so flustered.
Shy!Reader who lets the Satoru into your house, reluctant yet willing to hear what he has to say. Truthfully you miss the handsome boy more than you’d like to admit despite him embarrassing you.
Bully!Satoru who follows you up to your room, pulling you against his chest with an “ompf!” the second he heard your door close. He’d never tell anyone this, but seeing you so angry with him ate him alive. At first he thought it was cute! The little attitude you wore was adorable until it morphed into stomach-churning disappointment aimed towards Satoru.
“I’m so sorry bunny, I had no idea it would bother you so much that I said those things to Suguru about us. The last thing I want is for you to think all I want you for is some stupid shit, let me make it up to you.” Softly his fingers curl into the smooth fabric of your shirt attempting to squish you further into him.
Silence fills the room like a thick blanket. Your heart beat rapidly against Satoru’s own; thoughts running wild while his expensive cologne wafted in your senses.
“It’s okay ‘toru.” slivers off of your lips before you can think.
Bully!Satoru who spends the rest of his day with you. First going to watch whatever movie you want to, buying every snack he could possibly think of even if you didn’t eat it just because he can.
You wanted to walk in the park? done.
Go browse a book store? he bought everything you touched.
Tired of being social? Satoru walked you home as he listened to you talk passionately about the description of your new books.
Bully!Satoru who begs for forgiveness through pulling your panties to the side and pressing sloppy kisses to your pretty cunt. Respectful pecks turn into haughty thrusts of his tongue, pushing your sticky walls apart. His moans tickle your thighs fervently while you squeeze his shoulders attempting to ease the building pressure in your lower belly. Satoru was a man after all, and he knew the cherry on top to his apology would be eating your pussy until slick dripped down his face.
Shy!Reader whose head was so fuzzy from the multiple orgasms, you let Satoru guide you into bed as the sun set. Once he’d finally cleaned up there was no stopping the rain of smooth kisses on your face. “I love you, bunny.”
“I love you to ‘toru.”
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#saturo gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#gojo fluff#school boy gojo#bully gojo#bully gojo satoru
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"He probably hates me" x "I love her so much "
{teen nanami x teen reader fluff series!}
Last part - The confession that wasn't supposed to happen!
Previous part - the mission mishap
💌💌
You weren’t nosy.
Okay, maybe you were a little nosy. But in your defense, it wasn’t your fault that you overheard the conversation. You were just there. Existing. Standing in the hallway, minding your own business, when you heard Nanami’s voice.
And because your brain had decided that everything about him was worth paying attention to, you… paused. Just for a second.
"I don’t see the point in this."
You recognized the tone immediately Nanami’s classic, tired, I-hate-everything-about-this voice.
"You never see the point in anything fun," Haibara shot back. "I’m just saying, you could, y’know, talk to her."
Your stomach twisted. You had a very bad feeling about this.
"That would be unnecessary," Nanami said.
You frowned. What would be unnecessary?
"Unnecessary?" Haibara snorted. "You like her, dude. It’s so obvious it’s painful."
Your breath caught.
Wait. Wait.
There was a long, stretched silence. For a moment, you thought hoped Nanami might correct him. Might say something you could brush off, laugh about later, pretend it meant nothing.
But instead-
"I know," Nanami murmured.
And just like that, your heart flipped upside down.
Haibara made a choking sound. "Holy—you’re actually admitting it?!"
Nanami sighed. "It doesn’t change anything."
You couldn’t breathe.
"You’re so hopeless, man." Haibara groaned. "Why don’t you just tell her?"
There was another pause, and when Nanami spoke again, his voice was lower. Quieter.
"Because she thinks I hate her."
Your chest tightened.
Haibara scoffed. "Well, yeah. You’re kinda bad at what’s the word? human emotions."
"I’m aware," Nanami muttered.
"Then fix it," Haibara said, exasperated. "Before she actually moves on and you have to spend the rest of your life being an emotionally constipated sorcerer who let the love of his life slip away.(Not me roasting him)
Nanami exhaled sharply. "That’s dramatic."
"Not as dramatic as you."
You could barely focus anymore. Your brain was stuck on one thing one ridiculous, unbelievable thing.
Nanami liked you.
Not tolerated. Not put up with. Not found mildly acceptable.
He liked you.
The realization hit like a wrecking ball, knocking the air straight out of your lungs.
Which was exactly why your foot accidentally nudged the doorframe.
The voices inside went silent.
Crap.
"…Did you hear that?" Haibara asked.
Double crap.
You turned to flee, but before you could make your great escape, the door slid open and there stood Nanami, staring at you with a look that was somewhere between horrified and resigned.
Busted.
You opened your mouth, scrambling for an excuse, a joke, anything but Nanami just sighed, running a hand down his face.
"Of course," he muttered. "Of course you were standing there."
Haibara, meanwhile, was grinning like an idiot. "Well. This is awkward."
You swallowed hard, meeting Nanami’s gaze. "So… you don’t hate me?"
He sighed again. "No. I don’t."
"You-" You exhaled, something bubbling in your chest. "You like me?"
Nanami hesitated. Then, with all the reluctance in the world, he nodded. "Yes."
Silence.
Then—
"Finally!" Haibara threw his hands in the air. "I thought I was gonna have to force a confession out of you two!"
You barely heard him. Your heart was still racing, your hands curled into fists to stop them from shaking. "You absolute idiot," you breathed.
Nanami blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You let me think you hated me?" you demanded. "This whole time?"
Nanami looked away. "I didn’t know how to-"
"You-" You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. Then, without thinking, you grabbed his tie and yanked him forward.
And kissed him.
It was quick. Messy. Desperately overdue.
Nanami froze for half a secondbthen melted into it, his hands hovering before finally settling on your waist. His lips were warm, careful, uncertain as if he couldn’t believe this was happening.
When you finally pulled back, you stared at him, heart pounding. "Next time," you huffed, "just tell me."
Nanami exhaled, dazed. "Right."
Haibara whistled. "Holy crap. That was hot."
You and Nanami both turned to glare at him.
Haibara just grinned. "You’re welcome, by the way."
Nanami sighed. "Go away."
But despite the exasperation, despite everything there was a tiny, tiny smile ,playing at the corners of his lips.
And for the first time in forever, you realized Nanami Kento had never really been good at emotions.
But when it came to you, he was willing to try.
I know it was short but I wanted to make it simple, short and cute 😭
I'll make a longer series of Suguru geto SO COMMENT DOWN TO GET TAGGED!
@cheriiepies
[The End]
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smau#jjk fanfic#fluff#nanami kento#nanami#nanami kento x reader#nanami x yn#gojo#gojo Satoru#gojo Satoru x reader#suguru geto#geto#geto suguru x reader#yu haibara#haibara#trending#choso kamo#choso#choso x reader#love story#toji fushiguro#toji#toji fushiguro x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#first love#Spotify
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“my ma had once attempted to teach me when i was little, but i was too rambunctious to be able to focus on knitting for more than fifteen minutes. promise i’m a lot more patient now,” the cowboy laughs, pale blue eyes taking in the look on lucy gray’s face, hypnotized. these doe-like hues will be the death of him. all the kindness that’s buried deep inside her chest seems to be shining right through, making him feel so mushy and warm on the inside. she truly deserves the world, and he’ll do everything in his power to give it to her. “speakin’ of songs… was you singin’ a song when i first saw you? i was so exhausted and dehydrated, it’s all so blurry now but i thought i was at the gates of heaven and an angel was welcomin’ me with a song. what were you singin’ ‘bout?” he wonders out loud, just now reminded of the moment he first laid eyes on her. he was so out of it, and now he can barely tell what really happened and what’s only a figment of his imagination. “thanks for thinkin’ so. i didn’t want ‘im to be no outlaw. i wanted ‘im to have an honest job an’ a good life.” but now that joe’s gone, billy can’t help but wonder if maybe he was a little too hard on the boy, expected too much of him. “always. well, except for the time i went and beat up her husband ‘cause he kept makin’ her cry, bringin’ no money home, stealin’ hers… spendin’ it all in brothels and saloons. she told me to leave ‘im be, but i couldn’t.” his pride and honor and the love he had for her wouldn’t let him.
“yeah? good ‘cause i would never.” boss her around. he thinks that’s how it should be — men should listen to women more often, they’d benefit from that. “i’m mr. sugar bucket sweet potato, and you’re miss birdie boo little carrot,” he laughs, not caring the names make little to no sense. it’s the thought and affection that counts. “i mean, i kind of understand. if i was a goat, i wouldn’t let no strange cowboy near my udders either. i’d kick ‘im in the head.” expression softening as she touches his cheek, his heart melting into a puddle, making it difficult for him to focus on anything but the way her hand feels so nice and somehow soothes the sunburn on his skin. “i’m hungry, too. it’s ‘cause of that lake. water always makes you hungry, is what i’ve noticed.” he follows her back outside, where the last rays of the setting sun have painted the porch a warm, golden hue. it’s a little more humid now, but the wind remains pleasant, lacking its bite. he lays the potatoes down on the table and takes a seat opposite to her, just so that he can admire her beautiful features in this light. if he only could paint, he’d paint her like this. “this is real nice. this table, i mean. beautiful carpentry.” he praises, but what he actually means is this, the two of them doing something so mundane together after a long, fun day, is nice. he wouldn’t mind spending every afternoon for the rest of his life doing this. “i don’t know if i’ve ever told you this, but i’m a very experienced potato-peeler. it was always my job to peel ‘em when i was little,” he brags with a smile, his hands, rough and calloused moving with practiced ease, as if peeling potatoes was as natural as roping a steer to him.
"that's exactly why i was thinkin' it'd be good to teach you." he already read her mind, she was thinking it could be useful when he sets out on his own. a shy smile spills over kind visage at being called sweet, of course she remembered. and of course each time he says another sweet thing, it flushes her in a warm sensation of love. fills that void and all the hurt that being talked down to by the preacher that has carved a hole in her chest with, a little at each time. "course i think so. poem's are beautiful. poem's are a lot like songs... and i do love writin' songs." speaking fondly, smiling affectionately. "well, for some reason i think that's cute," lucy gray laughs, the part about bossing his brother around because he wanted to take good care of him. "and at least you listened to your mother." so safe to say, she finds that cute too. putting a cute grin on her face because it's adorable he was stubborn but still so respectful to his mama. "i'm just playin' with you, billy. i don't think you would." a gentle expression softens her features as she peers up at him, after handing him his armful of vegetables. "you're a sweet potato." since they're holding potatoes, small laugh emitting.
hand reaches up to gently pat his cheek, he's so cute, he's gotta stop being that cute in personality and his eyes are too big and pure for her heart to handle. "it's best i do that, anyway. she really is picky with that. she might really try to bite you if you grab on her udders." the brunette laughs, but genuinely feels bad for shamus for being scarred by men. "i'm hungry." amusingly replying, scooping out an armful of carrots next before shutting the lid back. "alright, let's go." grabbing a pan, she leads them back out of the house and off the porch and climbs onto the picnic table's seat before dumping her vegetables on the table top and sitting the pan down. she's got a knife sitting in the middle, she goes ahead and grabs that and starts cutting.
#billysgirllol#pls :'))) it will break our hearts!!#lil maudey being left behind too :(#idk how lulu gray will handle it
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The End Of Maybe
written for the @steddiebingo card prompt: proposal & @steddielovemonth day 1
rated: T | wc: 1.223 | tags: established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, self-doubt, declarations of love, marriage proposal | also on ao3
“Do you ever regret it?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes locked on the ceiling while his fingers are tracing invisible patterns on the skin of Steve’s back.
“Regret what?”
Steve’s head is resting on Eddie’s chest, basking in the comfort of their shared body heat, still on his come down from an overdose of love-infused ecstasy. Enjoying his boyfriend’s closeness while his mind is happily drifting. Was drifting, until now. Now he’s alert, can sense the shift in Eddie’s mood, the gloomy aura suddenly surrounding him.
Eddie still hasn’t turned his gaze away from where it is fixed on nothing but white paint, stays unmoving even when Steve lifts his head to look at him.
“Baby? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
For how talkative Eddie usually is, Steve has long since learned that his boyfriend can be eerily quiet when something is eating away at him. When he’s trying to come up with solutions on his own instead of sharing the burden. Over time, they’ve found a way to meet in the middle – with Steve giving Eddie the space and time he needs to sort through his thoughts and Eddie keeping his promise not to shut Steve out, to share what’s gnawing at him eventually.
“I mean,” Eddie starts, finally looking down to find Steve’s eyes, shifting so that they’re lying side by side, face to face. Still close despite the emotional distance Steve can feel like a physical wall between them.
“Do you sometimes regret choosing this over- something else?”
He’s being vague on purpose, not even trying to elaborate what he means and Steve knows why, understands what he’s saying either way. They had this conversation before, once, and ended up in a big fight, maybe their biggest one yet. Because at the time, it had felt like Eddie was trying to push him away, trying to talk him into something he didn’t want out of unfounded fear of Steve changing his mind one day. Having a hard time believing that he chose this life, not despite but because of what it would mean for his future.
For Steve, this has never been temporary; he’s always been all in. Wants to spend the rest of his days with Eddie, through the good and the bad and everything.
“Never,” Steve finally says, keeping his voice soft but making sure the message is clear, “I want this and nothing else. I love our life with everything we have. I love you. You know that, right?”
Without waiting for an answer, Steve leans in for a kiss, a firm press of lips to emphasise his words.
He knows it’s just a little bump in the road, just Eddie being in his head – it happens every now and then, it’s okay, nothing to really worry about. But still, Steve hates to see Eddie sad.
“I know you do, I just- I don’t know.”
Eddie sighs, buys himself time by stealing another tender kiss from his boyfriend, and Steve lets him get away with it.
“Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I do or say something that made you think I’ve changed my mind?”
“No! No, you did nothing, I- I guess I’m just scared.”
With one hand, Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face, thumb gently stroking over his cheekbone, not saying anything but patiently waiting for him to go on.
“I know you love me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I just sometimes wonder if it’s truly worth giving up so many of your dreams for this. For me.”
Steve knows what Eddie is referring to, even without him having to spell it out. It is true, there had been a time where Steve’s biggest dream was to have a wife and kids, a whole bunch of them, living a quiet small-town life with his picture-perfect family.
But that was before Eddie came along. Before he fell heart over head in love with a wonderful young man, with the prettiest smile and dark brown eyes that make him weak, still, after all those years. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he never asked himself that same question, wondering if being with Eddie was worth facing all the battles they had to fight. If loving Eddie was worth letting go of the future he’d always thought he wanted for himself.
But the answer is still the same as it has been for over 6 years now – yes. A thousand times yes. Because the truth is, he didn’t give up a dream, he created a new one. With Eddie at the centre of everything, he’s built a life that is better than anything he could’ve imagined.
Nothing compares to being loved by Eddie, and nothing could ever make this relationship any more perfect. Except maybe…
He shoots up so sudden it startles Eddie, who reluctantly obeys when Steve beckons him to sit.
“What-”
Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, presses the tip of his finger against Eddie’s lips to shut him up – not to be rude; he just needs him to listen to what he has to say before he loses his courage.
“You’re it for me, okay? You are everything I need to be happy and I- I want to grow old with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I want, now and forever.”
Steve swallows roughly, has to take a few deep breaths, can already feel the burning of tears in his eyes.
Robin will lose her mind. Will probably also give him a lot of shit for doing it like this, here, in the isolated cocoon of their bedroom rather than making it the big, pompous surprise they always joked about in secret. When they talked about the hypothetical maybe of Steve proposing one day.
Truth is, Steve has been thinking about it a lot in the past, about asking Eddie to take this next big step with him. Not for the sake of making at least one of his younger self’s dreams a reality, but because he wants to be Eddie’s in every way possible. Is more than willing to give up a name that means nothing to him for one that means love and trust and family.
“Eddie, baby, will you marry me?”
He waits for the words to sink in, anxiously watching Eddie go through all the stages of understanding what Steve is asking him.
“Are you-” Realisation.
“Do you really-” Disbelief.
“You want to-” Reassurance.
“Oh my God, yes! YES!” Eddie finally answers with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears.
They’re both shedding tears of joy now, arms wrapped around each other, kissing, and smiling and kissing some more until just kissing is no longer enough. When the need to be closer overcomes them and whispered declarations of love and devotion turn into something a lot more obscene. When their bodies demand to become one in heated passion, euphoric and wild and sweet.
And when they come undone for the second time this night, it feels different in a way, new. Because it’s their first time as soon-to-be husbands. Falling apart together, with all their love carved into a promise to mark the end of maybe and the beginning of forever – no after – just them ‘til the end.
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steddie fic#steddiebingo2025#steddielovemonth#prompt: proposal
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Placements I like the most ~
Venus in Capricorn: Venus in Capricorn is known for taking life seriously, but they also have a fantastic ability to laugh at life's minor failures, particularly their own. If something goes wrong, their reaction is often more, “Well, that was expected,” followed by a chuckle. It’s like they’ve already calculated the odds of success and know that it’s okay to laugh off the imperfections.
Libra moon : When arguments or tension happen, a Libra Moon might not react immediately. They prefer to process their emotions and figure out what everyone else thinks first. By the time they express their thoughts, the conflict might already be over, and they’ll come in with, “Okay, so here’s my analysis of everything… and I think we should compromise.” Their late-but-thoughtful take is often both hilarious and surprisingly insightful.
Virgo sun:Virgo Suns can be surprisingly adventurous with food, even though they come off as practical and "healthy" eaters. They love trying out new food trends.they love recommending obscure restaurants or dishes no one else has heard of. You might not expect a Virgo Sun to be a connoisseur of anything, but food? They know their stuff.
Mercury in 10th house/mercury in Capricorn: They often have a knack for inspiring others, usually in a low-key, almost accidental way. It could be something as simple as giving you the perfect pep talk when you're stressed at work. They’ll calmly explain, “It’s all about managing expectations and breaking down the project into bite-sized pieces.” And suddenly, you feel like you can conquer the world. They don’t try to be a motivational speaker, but their logical, practical advice often has this surprising, uplifting quality. It’s kind of funny how they can turn a simple conversation into a full-on career inspiration session without even realizing they’re doing it.
Uranus in 12th house: They can heal in ways that feel totally unexpected and even a bit unusual. Whether it’s through sudden insights or unconventional methods, Uranus in the 12th house people have the power to help others break free from old patterns or traumas. They may not even realize they’re doing this at first, but they have an innate ability to help others shift their perspective in profound ways,sometimes without ever saying a word. They might just show up with an idea or suggestion that completely changes someone’s outlook on life.
Cancer moon : Cancer Moons are incredibly intuitive about people’s emotional states, but they tend to pick up on subtle, less obvious cues. They might be able to sense if someone’s having a bad day just by the tone of their voice or the way they hold themselves. However, the funny part is that they might not always verbalize their empathy. They might just quietly offer a cup of tea, a hug, or a homemade treat as their way of saying, "I get it." It’s their way of giving comfort without making a big deal out of it.
Aquarius rising/Sun : While Aquarius risings are known to be social, they do it on their own terms. You might catch them hanging out in a crowd of people but also deeply absorbed in a conversation with just one person about an entirely random topic . They can be surprisingly selective about who they connect with, preferring people who stimulate their intellect or share their unconventional interests. They might be socially active but with their own peculiar style, sometimes standing apart from the crowd but still very much part of the scene.
#astro community#astrology#astro observations#astro notes#astro placements#astrocafecoffee#vedic astro observations#vedic astro notes#vedic chart#vedic astrology#astrology chart#astro content#astro chart#astrology community#natal chart#astrology birth chart#birth chart
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━━━ ✧˖° 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓: 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍
- a = aftercare (how he takes care of you after sex)
daryl doesn’t do the kind of ‘aftercare’ you read about in fics. bringing you a snack, talking you down from a hazy headspace, telling you everything will be alright - those things don’t happen with him. they don’t need to.
every time you have sex with daryl, it feels good. amazing. he fucks you, not just because he wants to get off, but because he wants to make you feel good too. he won’t admit it, but he likes the closeness of it. the intimacy that is sex. when you’re both done, sweaty and tired and coming down from an orgasm high, he’ll help clean you up - and if you ask, he’ll bring you some water. cuddle you extra tight, tell you how much he loves you.
of course, if kink is involved, daryl would do more to make sure you’re okay after a scene, but regular intercourse doesn’t warrant anything special after. because every moment with daryl is special. and when you’re around him, you know that he’ll take care of you and make sure you’re okay at all times.
- b = body part (his favorite body part of yours)
daryl likes boobs and ass. just as much as any other guy. but for different reasons.
he would never look at a woman and think ‘wow, she’s hot because of her huge tits’ or anything like that. while he might notice certain physical things about a woman’s body, he really could care less. daryl dixon does not let lust or his cock run his life - and in the world he lives in, that’s a good thing. he has more important things to focus on.
if you’re dating daryl, he likes your boobs because they’re yours. he likes your ass because it’s yours. he doesn’t have a type. it doesn’t matter if you’re skinny, tall, petite, thick - if you managed to get close to daryl, believe that he adores every inch of your body and everything about you.
- c = cum (anything to do with cum)
daryl will kiss you after you suck his dick and swallow his cum. he doesn’t care if your mouth still tastes salty, doesn’t mind the taste of himself. he also doesn’t necessarily think it’s hot, just - it is what it is. sex is natural. sex is dirty. that’s what daryl believes, anyway.
he loves the taste of your cum. is obsessed with the concept of squirt. he loves spending majority of foreplay, or even just for fun, going down on you and fingering you. i imagine him with the bottom part of his face slick, your inner thighs stinging from his facial hair rubbing against them, his lips looking glossy from your juices after he gave you a few orgasms. his smile from between your legs is probably shy and loopy as he licks the taste of you from his fingers.
- d = dirty secret (a dirty little secret of his)
daryl would never verbally admit this - but he loves when you call him daddy.
and not in that, who’s your daddy? kind of way, that’s a little degrading and a whole lot of powerful. daryl just loves what it stands for - that he’s taking care of you. that you trust him.
and, okay, maybe feeling like he has that power over you is a little hot. but it’s not the main reason he likes it.
when you curl up next to him and call him that name, snuggle into his side, or just tease him to ask for something using that name and a sweet voice - god, it gives him butterflies, makes him eager to do whatever he can do to make you happy. because he loves taking care of you. loves spoiling you in whatever way he can.
the name is romantic to him, but at the end of the day - also a little kinky. the fact that you trust him the way you do means everything to him.
- e = experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)
daryl doesn’t have a lot of experience - but that’s by choice.
people can think what they want about daryl, but women want him. because not only is he physically hot, he’s also untrained - in that dirty, masculine way every woman secretly wants a piece of. in his life, daryl has had many admirers, but just a few partners.
in fact, most of the women he’s been with sexually have probably been older than him. kind, soft, they took good care of him while he learned the ropes. maybe that’s why he’s so good with his tongue and fingers and cock - older women with more experience, who could see the appeal that the women his age maybe couldn’t back then, have taught him well.
so, yes - daryl knows what he’s doing, and he does it well.
- f = favorite position (this one goes without saying)
in the beginning, when he’s getting comfortable and more vulnerable with you, daryl is a little scared of missionary. it’s a lot of pressure, to have your pretty face looking up at him - you can see how he’s feeling, and he can see the way you’re feeling. wonders if you’re enjoying yourself, if he’s making any weird faces. he’s also a little scared to admit just how much he enjoys himself with you, no matter how silly that sounds.
daryl just wants to impress you. he just wants you to feel good.
as you get more serious in your relationship, missionary becomes his favorite because of the intimacy that looking into each other’s eyes brings. he also loves doggy, because duh, and he loves showing off his strength by holding you up against a wall and fucking you like that, just bouncing you up and down on his cock like you weigh nothing. because to a man as strong as him - you are light. no matter what your body type.
and when you ride him? god, it’s so overwhelmingly good he could just about cry. but really, any position, as long as he gets to put his dick inside of you, is perfect for him.
- g = giving (is he more of a giver, or a receiver?)
giver. daryl isn’t a sexual person unless he’s really into someone - and if he’s really into you, then his sexuality is pretty much…you. he could please you and focus on just your pleasure for hours, even if it’s at the expense of his own. whatever you want to do in the bedroom, he’ll try. even if he gives you a funny look, or teases you about it, he’ll give it a chance.
if it’s something super kinky, he might be hesitant - but ultimately daryl just wants to make you happy. seeing you turned on turns him on. definitely a giver.
‘you’re a little weird, ya know?’ he murmurs, face flushed when you ask him to dominate you a certain way, or do something dirty. but he’s a good sport - he’ll do it, whatever it is, especially when he sees how much it turns you on.
- h = hair (how well groomed is he? his thoughts on body hair, his partner’s and his own)
this might be surprising to some, but daryl is well groomed. his hair is pretty light but he keeps it trimmed, because even though he has the reputation of someone who doesn’t give a fuck, he’s actually hygienic. uses bar soap, freshens up everyday. he’s just really active and outside all the time, which is how he gets dirty so fast. and he doesn’t care what he looks like, not when the world is the way it is. but he’s not unhygienic. he smells manly, woodsy, musky in the best way possible.
as for your hair, he really doesn’t care. daryl has literally eaten raw squirrel meat just to survive. he’s rough and tough and a survivor - you think he cares about fucking body hair? he’ll go down on you no matter what your grooming situation, will cuddle next to you and touch your body no matter if you shaved yesterday or haven’t touched a razor in months.
although, if you do happen to be smooth, soft and hairless just because that’s something you prefer, he definitely notices. can’t believe someone as sweet and pretty as you even lets his rough fingertips touch your body, but overall, body hair is not a factor in his attraction towards you. not at all.
- i = intimacy (how is they during the moment? the romantic aspects)
when daryl loves you, he’s romantic all the time. without even knowing it. for some reason, he’s under the impression that he’s not romantic. maybe he thinks that romance is red roses and money and expensive dinners, things that don’t matter in the world you’re both living in. he also has a bit of a self esteem issue - he doesn’t really see himself for who he is, you know? he’s amazing, and everyone knows that. he’s the one who has a hard time believing it.
he’s so romantic. in the way he takes care of you. listens to you. he’s a sweetheart, wrapped in a tough package. when you’re having sex, he’s the same daryl he always is. intense, thoughtful, voice a little mumbled even as he tells you how tight you are, how good you are for him, how much he cares about you.
he loves you, you know that with all your heart - but acts of service, sometimes gift giving is the way he shows it. the words i love you are rarely explicitly verbalized. but he fucks you so good that it’s obvious.
giving you orgasms is an act of service and a gift at the same time, right?
- j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
daryl doesn’t just jerk off for the fuck of it. never gets horny and immediately think, ‘lemme touch myself.’ if you’re dating him, he’ll just put the moves on you, because he’d rather watch you not waste a drop of his cum then get it all over his hand. if he’s single, he definitely only gets himself off when he has to. when its been so long it’s starting to become a need, and his body is desperate for release.
god, he looks so hot laying on his back, perfect arms flexing as he jerks himself off. it’s easy to imagine. it’s also easy to imagine watching him cum all over his stomach and licking it off -
okay, maybe he lets you watch him get himself off one time. tells you to take your clothes off in front of him while he strokes himself, embarrassed, and so turned on at the way you clean up his mess with your cute, pink tongue.
- k = kink (one or more of his kinks)
daryl isn’t the kinky sex god everyone in the fandom makes him out to be. he has his moments, sure, but the only time he’d ever do something truly kinky is if you asked.
if you wanted him to spank you, or lightly choke you, or roleplay a little - he’d awkwardly do it in his own cute, grumpy way.
the way he naturally is, and the dynamic he has with you - some might think there’s elements of kink to it. he’s such a man, but he’s also sort of versatile. would let you dominate him, although not aggressively, even while he’s on top of you. he’d think it’s hot if his woman told him how to fuck her, demanded things - he definitely thinks a little bit of a brat is sexy.
there’s something very primal about sex with daryl, but it comes naturally to him. he’s a little bossy with you, even if you have him whipped. when you fuck, he takes what he wants, he’s a man about it, and that’s endlessly sexy to you.
- l = location (favorite places to fuck and mess around)
bed.
it seems boring, but having a bed and a roof is a luxury these days. there was a long time when daryl didn’t have anything to sleep on but a thin sleeping bag, and even worse, a hard fucking prison bed. fuck the tent, fuck the outdoors - you’re precious to daryl, and he wants to fuck you somewhere that’s worthy of you.
he’ll also fuck you over a couch, or in the shower. and, okay - he’ll fuck you outside or behind a tree or wherever you want if you’re desperate for it, but he definitely prefers to have you on his soft mattress, bedroom door closed, so he can give you the princess treatment you deserve and fuck you like -
the girlfriend he adores.
- m = motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)
you.
all day and all night long. anything and everything about you. he wants to please you. make you happy. take care of you. he can’t rest if you’re unhappy, can’t cum unless you’re completely satisfied. doesn’t want to even have a good time unless you’re having one too.
anything and everything you do turns him on. just by being yourself, you get that man going like nothing and nobody else. it’s kind of your superpower, you think sometimes - the effect you have on daryl dixon.
- n = no (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)
he doesn’t want to hurt you.
even if you ask for it, tell daryl you’ll be fine and him getting rough with you turns you on - he’ll be hesitant.
i don’t think daryl would ever tell you no. he’s pretty inexperienced, but when it comes to anything kinky, you have to tell him what you want, and he might be freaked out. if you asked him to spank you, he might look at you like you’ve grown a second head. ‘you know i’m a lot stronger than you, don’t you?’ he’ll say, as if you’re literally insane, and you’ll nod and roll your eyes, telling him in your best brat voice, ‘that’s the point.’
daryl will do whatever you want, and he’ll enjoy it because making you happy turns him on - but i think anything that could hurt you scares him a little.
- o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
giving.
of course, he loves receiving head because who doesn’t? but come on. you know that man is obsessed with eating pussy. loves to get dirty and sticky and wet between your thighs, or have you sit on his face so he can feel you all over him. bonus points if you’re thick: because the weight of you on his face, your smell and your taste and just you on top of him could literally make him cum untouched if he tried hard enough.
daryl loves to give - and he’s so fucking good at it. partially from skill, but mostly because he’s so enthusiastic. will jump at any opportunity to go down on you.
- p = pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
daryl isn’t inherently rough.
but he is. he’s just so big, and kind of unaware of his strength, and when he’s enthusiastic and excited and you beg him to flip you onto your stomach and fuck you silly - he’s going to do it. he’s so strong, and anytime he puts his hands on you while he’s fucking you, it always feels a little rough. the good news is: you love it. because even when he’s rough, doesn’t realize how hard he’s gripping your hips or folding your legs into your chest so he can fuck you at a better angle, he’s still so sensual. can go so slow. make you feel so loved.
sex with daryl makes you feel like a prized possession, and when he’s inside of you, you want it to last forever.
- q = quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
daryl can get you off quickly, but it takes him a little longer to cum. his pleasure centers around your pleasure, and if you feel good - he’s satisfied, even if he doesn’t cum himself.
a quickie for daryl means quickly getting you off fast. with his fingers or mouth and tongue, or his cock, even if he tucks it back into his pants, slightly hard, and pulls his shirt over the bulge while you’re still shaking from your orgasm. as long as you’re satisfied, so is he.
he wants to savor the chase of his orgasm for longer than just a quickie while the rest of your group is momentarily occupied or you finally have some free time together during the day. if you want sex, he’ll happily oblige, but long nights with daryl are more his style.
- r = risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)
daryl doesn’t take risks when it comes to sex. meaning: it’s rare that he’ll fuck you somewhere where others could hear or walk by and catch you both. you’ve had a few outside romps for sure, but if there’s a bed or a couch or a roof over your head, daryl will always pick that. it’s not that he doesn’t want to have fun, he just wants to make sure you’re getting the best experience. what kind of boyfriend would he be if he let you get grass stains on the knees of your pants if he bent you over outside? he’d never put you in a degrading position like that.
unless, of course, you ask for something like that. even if he’s huffing and puffing, mumbling ‘yer crazy, girl’ under his breath about a sexual request you have - he’ll always try to please you. and honestly, he can’t deny you when you’re all over him, begging for a little risk, especially when life is more settled. how can he tell you no when you’re pulling at his sleeve and rubbing your tits against his arm, asking him to take you behind a tree even with the rest of your group close by?
with daryl, you pretty much always get what you want.
- s = stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)
once daryl cums, he’s good. doesn’t see the need to go an extra round and exert himself - because he’s definitely fucking tired after giving you a pounding. when he fucks you, he uses all his strength, makes you cum so many times before he lets himself cum that you’re too exhausted to go another round even if he wanted to. he can last a long time, with foreplay and blowjobs and making you cum around his cock - which is why he’s usually beat for a few hours after he finally lets himself spill. it really doesn’t take him long to be ready again once he cums, but one round with daryl is deeply satisfying.
- t = toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)
daryl doesn’t use toys on himself. wouldn’t even think to do that.
at first, he honestly doesn’t like the thought of you using toys. not because he’s insecure - he literally just doesn’t understand why you need a toy if you have him. or your own fingers.
but one day, he catches you using your vibrator under the covers and he sees how fucking wet it makes you, how easy it is for that little toy to take you over the edge, and then he understands. doesn’t feel like it takes away from you, or him, or what you two do together - no, he just gets a little curious, is all.
daryl enjoys, very rarely, using a vibrator while you fuck. loves to see you come apart while you ride his cock and he holds it to your clit, the way you shudder and shake on top of him, have orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
and sometimes, he asks you to hold it on his balls. or the base of his dick. lightly - just for a second. his face turns red and his dick leaks precum. when you bend down to lick it well -
he understands the appeal of toys now, okay?
- u = unfair (how much he likes to tease)
as hot as it would be, daryl doesn’t really sexually tease. he does do it verbally though, when you’re crawling on his lap after he already spent the better part of an hour between your legs, fingers almost pruning from how long they’d been inside of you as he licked at your pussy. “you ready to go again jus’ like that?’ he’ll tease, all while heat creeps into your cheeks at how easy you are for him. but even when he teases you, you never feel ashamed for sharing any need you have with daryl. he doesn’t judge.
well, he does - but he never judges you.
- v = volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)
he’s not loud. partially because he’s just a quiet person, but also because he’s used to constantly being around people and sharing a living space. his voice is soft even when he talks dirty, little grunts and moans leaving his mouth so quietly that sometimes the only way you know he’s having a good time is the feel of his dick rock hard inside of you.
it makes it all the more special when he does get a little louder. after a few drinks, when he’s more outwardly touchy and talkative, or when you suck him off so good he just can’t help the noises coming out of his mouth. it’s a glorious feeling, when you can actually get daryl dixon to moan in your ear, or press his forehead to yours as he lets out a breath, the walls of your pussy clenching around him so tight he doesn’t even know how to move.
‘fuck,’ he’ll whisper, the most delicious little whine leaving his lips. you savor those sounds, commit them to memory, keep them in the back of your mind in case you ever need to get yourself off when daryl’s not around.
- w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
daryl never knew how much he needed a woman in his life. someone feminine, soft, to offset his masculine energy and understand the vulnerability beneath his surface.
but when he met you, someone sweet and cute and pretty and warm - everything he never thought he wanted nor needed, your presence kind of became an addiction to him.
daryl feels his dick start to chub in his pants whenever you wear a skirt, or a dress. whenever he feels your soft thigh against his leg in bed at night, or when you fit your body, so much smaller than his, on his lap or tucked under his arm. when you freak out if you see a bug because you’re scared of spiders, but not walkers, tie his hair back with little ribbons while he’s napping - he’s so incredibly fond that it makes him sick. it turns him on, the woman you are, and it’s like his dick is half hard the entire day when you wear anything pink or floral print.
you make him crazy in the best way.
- x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
hard body. toned, every inch of him. slightly tan, skin the most beautiful bronzed color in the summer, blemish free. his cock is big, but not overly so - perfect size, perfect color. the head of his dick is sort of pink, soft. he’s too hot for his own good, too beautiful, and he doesn’t even know it. actually blushes, when you lick your lips as he gets undressed, but daryl’s naivety about his own good looks is kind of part of his charm.
- y = yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
daryl is ready to fuck and get sucked at all times. but it’s not his main goal - he’s got a lot of shit to do, a lot of people depending on him, and he can go a long time without cumming. not that he wants to - especially not when he’s with you.
whenever you want to fuck, daryl is game. if you want his cock, you’re going to get it. don’t get it wrong - he is initiating. he can tell when you want to be fucked, because you go all quiet with your eyes glassy, or the opposite, you’re loud and a little bratty, begging him to just give you some type of release that you can’t get on your own. he knows you well, and he’s got you. ‘okay, pretty girl,’ he’ll say, leading you by the hand to a private area. ‘lemme make you feel better.’
daryl has a high sex drive, but until he met you, getting off was just never a big deal to him.
- z = zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)
very fast. such a cutie. he puts his all into it when he’s fucking you - and he’s not trying to be intense, that’s just how he naturally is regarding everything about you. he’s always giving his all when it comes to you, in any situation. but there’s also the fact that - he doesn’t know how else to be?
doesn’t understand men who’d let their woman do all the work during intercourse - it makes no sense to him, and the thought actually makes him uncomfortable. because of this, he’s definitely exhausted after he cums. if he fucks you at night, he’s passing the fuck out afterwards. if it’s a quickie during the day, he’s tucking his dick back in his pants after you’re done, grumbling something about ‘never getting a chance to nap anymore’ or some shit while you stifle a giggle.
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#𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜#𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫#𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒙𝒐𝒏#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon smut#daryl twd#twd fanfiction#twd x reader smut#twd x you#twd x reader#twd x y/n#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x reader smut#Daryl Dixon x you smut#daryl dixon x female reader#the walking dead#twd
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Part 3- Your People
Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2
Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.
w/c~ 8k
content warnings: Reader (no descriptions besides having hair that can be pulled) is in a weird mindset; hears voices, talks to herself. non-con/dub-con (if you're looking for enthusiastic consent, ya wont find it here) smut, cock-warming, unprotected P in V, creampies, oral (m&f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, pussy and peen pronouns, alcohol consumption (altered mental state). Joel wears a shock collar and other various horrible things that would keep him in check-- and he doesn't fucking like it.
Reader warning- While it looks real pretty, this is a Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. If ya do and then come complaining to me that you ate a dead dove-- I'm gonna fight you. I warned you. I'm coming from a place of love and respect for my readers who have ever gone through anything traumatic and maybe don't want to relive that, it's in here. I try and do it tastefully and respectfully in the best way, i'll mark it with a lil divider where you can skip the part I'm worried about. it's smut but it's sad. There is your warning. I love you.
You gotta sleep, kid. You need it.
Mister-J looks so warm and comfortable… go on and crawl in beside him.
He does look so comfortable and inviting, especially from your spot just out of his reach if you were to fall asleep. His chest rises and falls slowly as he breathes in his sleep. It’s memorizing, and almost hypnotic enough to make you forget all of your fears— forget all of the things that made laying next to him with his arms around you physically excruciating.
S’okay, Baby. You’ll get there, it’ll get easier ‘n he won’t seem so big ‘n scary anymore.
There is a reason he seems big and scary, kid. Your gut is telling you not to trust him, so don’t.
Oh, stop it. If he wanted to kill her, he would have— he would have done it by now. He’s big ‘n strong— he could, and he hasn’t.
That sweet, soft voice does have a good point…
Doesn’t mean he isn’t waiting for a better opportunity.
The dark, serious voice has a point too…
This always happens, the voices say things that conflict one another, but they both have a point. They both make sense but never about the same thing. And they argue. And they’re loud. It’s only when you need them, that you really, really want them to say something that they are quiet.
The little flashlight that had been attached to the backpack Mister-man—
Joel… he has a name. He’s a real person, kid.
You flick the flashlight off quickly so it’s dark again.
Mister-mans, Mister-J… Joel… it don’t matter none, Sugar. He’s yours, and you can call him whatever you want.
You flick the light back on so you can watch him sleep. It’s incredible how calm he is, and how he fell asleep as soon as you laid down next to him after saying he couldn’t sleep.
Sometimes that happens to you though, sometimes you need to touch yourself, and make yourself squirm and moan and come, and then sleep finds you. Sometimes the whiskey puts you to sleep before you even have the desire to do that to yourself.
Whatever Mister-J did with his tongue was so much better than your fingers, wasn’t it?
It most definitely was. It was probably the most incredible feeling you’ve ever experienced. Not that you hadn’t ever experienced it before, but this time…it was soft, gentle— and you wanted it more than anything. That made it feel even fucking better, how badly you wanted to sit down on Mister-mans face and grind down onto his mouth.
He was making out with your cunt. Deep, long, tongue swirling kisses. He would open and close his mouth, and suck. He would lick and lap at all spots you didn’t even know could make you feel good.
When you would take his cock deep in your throat and gag on it, he would moan- loudly-and the vibrations from that were like earthquakes, they touched parts inside of you that were left unexplored by anyone before Mister.
He was perfect.
The idea of laying your head down on his big, muscular bicep was nice until you were actually doing it, and then everything about it felt foreign. It was like sleeping too close to the fire, surrounded by too many blankets.
You had gotten so used to sleeping alone, that the feeling of someone next to you didn’t feel right anymore. It made you sad and you’re not entirely sure why.
So that’s why you’re here on the floor and not snuggled up against Mister-man. It’s like the universe played some cruel joke on you- and you got your favorite food but when you bite into it, it’s rancid.
But your fingers twitch toward him anyway—like roots in dirt searching for water. His arm is right there. His breath is slow and steady.
Go on. He’s warm as fresh bread.
You shift an inch closer.
Dangerous as a snake in the grass.
But his skin smells like leather and sweat and you want to taste him again. Want to run your tongue from the tip of his cock, to the spot just in front of his ear that makes him sigh when you kiss him there.
Crawling—quiet like scared prey— you move until your face hovers over his chest. His shirt rides up just enough to show a scar on his perfectly doughy stomach. And another on his rib cage. It looks newer, still old enough to be a scar, but pink instead of white.
You wonder if it aches when he breathes. If that’s the reason his voice sounds like gravel sometimes.
He’ll crush you.
He’ll hold you.
It sounds like a song the way the sweet voice says it.
You touch the scar with your pinky finger, feather-light—and he doesn’t stir. But then he sighs—a rumble deeper than thunder—and your guts twist.
You scramble back, heart slamming against the back of your throat.
The sweet voice clucks at you.
You’re spooking yourself.
You’re alive because you spook.
The flashlight rolls under your knee when you shift—plastic clattering loud enough to wake dead things—and Mister’s brow tightens. For one gut-drop second, his eyes flicker open, staring up at you, before he grunts and turns onto his side, back to you now.
He’s mad again? How, and why? What did you do wrong? You had done everything right.
You keep poking that bear and you’re going to get mauled, kid.
He ain’t mad…look’it his hands, Sugar.
They’re not balled up into fists, they’re relaxed. His whole body is. Everything about him seems so at peace.
Your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten— and then you only had half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and some whiskey.
Joel’s boot shifts with a dry scrape of leather—and your lungs forget how air works. But he just mumbles something that sounds like “goddamn horse” with his face smushed against the pillow.
Mister-J talks in his sleep? He’s precious.
He is. It’s hard to contain the feeling in your chest when he sighs loudly, rolling onto his stomach, curling his arms under the pillow.
Instead of trying to face your fears of crawling into bed with him and falling asleep next to someone else, you crawl on your hands and knees back to the chair across the room. The whiskey bottle is still tucked between the cushion where you left it.
--
Even with almost half of a bottle of whiskey in you, your eyes won’t close. You only know what time it is because the soft whir of the solar powered generator kicks on, and the singular lamp in the corner flicks to life. It’s dark outside now.
The electric hum from the bulb makes your skin crawl, and your head buzz.
Part of you feels bad for keeping Mister down here like this. He doesn’t even know what time it is, he’ll probably wake up soon, getting ready to start the day. You wonder if he misses the sun, if he ever walked barefoot in the grass and if he misses that feeling too.
When you weren’t allowed outside, you missed the sun. You missed the grass between your toes. You missed being able to jump into the river and swim around with your brother whenever you wanted. There were a lot of things you missed when you weren’t allowed to go outside.
Unscrewing the whiskey cap, you take a swig and relish in the way it burns. It drowns out the voices, but it doesn’t dull the ache between your legs— the memory of his mouth makes you shift in the soft recliner.
In the soft, pale light spilling into the room from behind the aged, yellow lampshade, you can see Mister-J… and how excited he is. He’s on his back, shirt riding up over his stomach again, the bulge in his sweatpants clear as day now.
There is a new voice you’ve never heard before, and it’s not saying anything— only screaming. Loud, and high pitched. It’s excruciating. It’s the only thing you hear now, not even the sound of your own voice telling you what to do, or what to think or say.
When you stand, the whiskey sloshes between your temples. It makes you sway and almost lose your balance, but you press your hand to a support beam that juts out of the floor and into the ceiling.
Heavy, clumsy, limping feet and a swollen ankle carry you to Mister-J.
His cock is hard and heavy in your hand and he tastes just like he did last night. He stirs under your touch—a low groan vibrating through clenched teeth—and your pussy tightens around nothing. Mister arches his hips up against your slow moving fist, trying to fuck your hand momentarily before stilling and settling back down into the mattress. His eyes are still shut tight beneath furrowed eyebrows.
It’s pathetically cute how bad he wants this. How badly he needs it.
The screaming inside your head morphs into static.
Your fingers rub slow circles over damp fabric between your legs while your rib cage starts to feel like a hive of wasps. Everything inside of you is buzzing as you lean over and swirl your tongue around the ridge of his cock.
Wrong.
That dark voice sounds like it’s coming through the static like old radio stations.
You pull your hand away from Mister-J's cock and cover your face with it, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. This is all wrong, all of it.
S’right. It’s all right.
The static transmutes into tornado sirens.
Your hand finds his cock again and it throbs in your grasp. There is no hesitation when you take him into your mouth with a gentleness you didn’t know you possessed when you’re this intoxicated. Delicate movements and laps of your tongue along his shaft make him moan softly, still slumbering.
Salt and musk take over your senses as he pulses against your tongue—wanting even in his unconsciousness. Your throat spasms around him as you gag, tears hot on your lashes. One hand brushes against his thigh as you move to steady yourself on the mattress while the other slips into your own waistband. Two fingers slide into you with no resistance. You’re so wet that you almost feel embarrassed.
Inside.
The sweet voice sings to you over the cacophony going on inside your head.
Mister’s hips jerk again, involuntary, desperate. A string of saliva connects your lip to his cock when you pull back to breathe. The room tilts—whiskey and shame on your tongue—but you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not when his thighs were trembling just a moment ago.
After kicking your shorts off, you climb on top. Mister feels so hot pressed up against your cunt. Yours and his breath catch in your throats when you sink down into his lap. Your eyes close to hide from the stretch that burns in a slippery, and shameful way.
The wasps behind your ribs sharpen their stingers as you slowly start to rock your hips against his. Mister’s eyelids flutter but he doesn’t wake-up, not fully. He just hovers in that feverish space between dreaming and drowning. A place you’re familiar with.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
Good. Good. Good.
You want to carve yourself into his bones before the tornado sirens rip your skull apart.
The oven mitts make useless fists at his sides as he arches beneath you, tendons in his neck pulled wire-tight. His hips stutter upward instinctively, chasing more friction, seeking the deepest, warmest parts of you.
His eyes snap open, “The fuck are you—” Mister-man’s voice is rough like sandpaper but you don’t let him finish before you slap your hand over his mouth.
“Shhhh, makin’ you feel good,” you moan quietly, your hips never faltering. His cock slides across a spot inside of you that whites the edges of your vision.
He mumbles something, his teeth scraping along your palm as he does so. It vaguely sounds like, ‘Get off’a me’ or ‘get off on me,’.
“M’tryin’,” you groan, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Your cheeks are wet, but from tears or sweat, you don’t know.
How can everything make sense up here on top of Mister-J, and still feel so incredibly… wrong?
The oven mitts start to drum against your thighs as he squirms underneath you.
It…hurts? Mister is hitting you?
Hurting you.
You like it.
“Knock it off!” You press harder against this mouth with your hand, your fingers digging into his cheeks. It’s impossible to stop riding him, to stop yourself from needing this brutal closeness with Mister.
You’re being bad.
You like it.
His muffled growls vibrate against your palm—angry or pleading or both—but your cunt clenches harder around him anyway. Release is so close, you can feel yourself teeter on the precipice, but you can’t seem to push yourself over.
“Please, please, p-please— jus’ wanna, I just wanna— please, please, Mister-J,” you whine, face wet with perspiration and tears now, they’re flowing freely from your eyes. “I want it, need it—”
“Stop, goddammit—” he shouts at you from behind your fingers.
It makes you flinch but you don’t stop, and your pussy pulses around him. Your hand presses harder, fingernails leaving moon crescents in his flesh mingled with his stubble.
You just want to feel good, to be able to fall asleep once this is all over.
Oven mitts thump and scrabble at your hip, and that only makes your thighs clamp tighter around his waist. You want to swallow every twitch of his cock, everything he can give you– you want it.
He bucks his hips up into you and touches a place inside you that leaves you gasping for air. “Yes, yes, yes—” you groan breathlessly, leaning forward to lay your body on top of his, resting your forehead against his collarbone.
Mister bucks his hips up into yours again— once, twice, three times and suddenly you’re being shoved off of him, pushed to the side like you’re weightless.
Before you can really even know what hit you, Mister-man has his entire body weight pinning you down underneath him. He has his forearm forced against your neck.
Your thumb instinctively presses against down, searching for the shock collar button but you just end up pressing against your own palm.
The static, and the sirens and the screaming— the voices. It all goes completely silent and the only thing you can hear is the blood roaring in your ears.
Mistake?
Mistake.
“Got’chya,” He growls down at you, his eyes dark and blown wide.
“Get off me! Get off me! Get off of me!” You scream at him as loudly as you can, “Get off of me! Get off! Off, off, offoffoffoff! I’ll fucking kill you, you stupid fucking sonofabitch- get the fuck off me!”
“Awhh, lil crazy puppy don’t like it?” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your tear stained cheekbone.
Your legs begin to flail wildly in an attempt to dislodge him, push him, get him off. Your hands flying to his face, scratching and clawing at the soft skin, and his vulnerable, delicate eyes. You can’t find the words for how much you don’t like it, so you scream— it’s loud and rattles in the back of your throat as Mister-man clamps his hand over your mouth to silence you.
His breath is hot and ragged against your ear, the oven mitts clumsily grappling at your wrists as you thrash. "Stop—fuckin'—fightin’—," he grits out, but his voice cracks on the last word.
You taste copper—your teeth sink into his palm at some point, his blood smearing your chin. He pulls his hand back back to look at the broken skin, and you clench your eyes shut, flinching away from the incoming blows.
The room tilts and suddenly Joel’s weight isn’t just on your body; it’s inside your head, like pressure forcing memories that had buried deep to the surface like lava from a volcano.
Different hands holding you down. A different room. Different voices in your ear.
“Nononononono,” you whimper in a shriveled voice you don’t recognize.
“Hey!” Joel’s voice is sharp and grounding.
His arm lets up just enough for you to suck in a shattered breath. You’re both trembling now, your chests heaving against one anothers. His beard scratches your temple as he turns his face away from your clawing hands, but you don’t miss it—there is a flicker in his eyes when your choked sob hits the air between you.
Something wet smears your cheek. His blood? Your tears? It’s hard to tell.
“M’gonna make you feel real good, crazy girl.” His lips brush your earlobe as his hips grind down into yours, the length of him sliding between your folds, the tip notched at your entrance.
“Stop,” you whine, but the force has left your voice. Something about him breathing in your ear, something about the sound he makes as he shifts his hips and slips himself inside of you. The tears continue to fall, even as you gasp and clench around him.
“She’s suckin’ me right in baby,” Joel purrs in your ear while his hips start to move.
You can feel every fucking inch of him, every vein, and every single beat of his heart through the slick walls of your cunt. “Oh god,” you groan, your stiff, frightened hands curling in the hair on the back of his head, the other gripping one of his strong, strained biceps.
You're terrified, but Joel's words and touch are overwhelming you, making your body respond in ways you didn’t know could in a position like this.
He thrusts slowly at first as he sinks deeper inside you. But soon his pace quickens and the slapping, wet sounds coming from between your legs fill the small basement room. "Yeah just like that," Mister groans, his lips ghosting over your cheek. "Take it all, baby girl.”
Your walls clench around him, pulling him in as if eager for more. You feel delirious with fear and an unbidden arousal. Tears stream down your face, but soft moans spill from your lips.
Joel licks at your tears and leaves gentle kisses in their place, his beard scraping against your sensitive skin. "Shhhh, I got you," he murmurs between thrusts.
The room spins and blurs as the pleasure builds. Nothing exists and nothing is real anymore; Mister-man’s weight pinning you down, his cock splitting you open, the sour, sweaty, musky scent of him.
He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real and he’s good. He’s good, he’s good, he’s good. He’s not killing you, not hurting you.
So good. It’s so good.
You turn your head to capture his salty, tear stained lips with yours, opening your mouth to let him in. His lips press against yours desperately, tongue licking at your teeth as he slips inside.
Your body arches up to meet him, craving more of his touch even as fear still coils in your gut. It’s like you’re two separate people wrapped up into a whole. One part of you wants him with everything that you are, and the other is ready to hide, ready to slip into the cracks into the wall and never come out.
His oven mitts move to your waist and fumble with the threadbare shirt you have on, trying to push it up over the swell of your breasts.
“Fuck,” he grunts, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulls away from the kiss. He sits back on his knees, cock still throbbing inside of you while your walls flutter around him.
“Don’t, oh god, no. Please don’t go-” you sob, hands and fingers clawing at his forearms, desperate for him to come back. “P-Please don’t leave me,” you whine sadly,
Mister says nothing as he places both mitt covered hands inside your shirt where it’s fastened with buttons. He pulls the two pieces of fabric apart like paper. The buttons fly in every direction, scattering across the floor and some landing in bed with you. Joel stares down at your naked body and you feel more exposed than you ever have in your entire life.
“Jesus christ,” he murmurs, eyes tracing every single one of your curves. His mittened hands cups the swell of your tits, thumb swiping over the stiff buds
It’s like you’ve been zapped by the shock collar. Your back arches into his hand, your eyes clamp shut.
“Nuh-uh, watch me,” he growls. He waits until your eyes are on him before he leans over and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls and teeth graze and bite down.
“Oh my god,” you groan, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your nails dragging red, almost bloody marks down his arm.
Mister releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air across it almost like he’s teasing you. Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he takes the other into his mouth, alternating between harsh sucking and tender kisses.
You mewl softly as he begins to thrust again, each movement slow and deliberate. He drives deep inside of you and hits that spot that blurs the edges of your vision again, and again, and again.
You stare up at him in awe- his beard is longer, thicker than it was when he first came here, his hair disheveled and damp with sweat hangs in his forehead. He leans back and pushes the loose strands away from his face with an oven mitt.
Handsome.
He is.
Strong.
Being so gentle.
With you, Sugar. So gentle—
With you.
"Please," you whimper, spine bowing as pleasure coils tight in your belly as his hips snap against yours loudly. “More. Need more…”
He grins down at you, eyes crinkled at the corners, “I’ll give ya’ more, sweetheart.” If you thought Mister was handsome before, when he smiles your heart swells. and the pressure and tightness inside of you feels like it’s about to burst.
He wraps one hand underneath your knee and brings it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder by his ear, repeating the process with the other leg. He grips your thighs, the scratchy fabric of the oven mitts drags across your skin. Joel never lets up, never slows down the brutal, bruising pace he sets.
A string of expletives and maybe his name more than once spill out of your mouth quickly, stumbling over the words as your body trembles underneath him.
All of the air is pushed out of you as he leans over, pushing your knees up to your chest and starts fucking into you with deep, long strokes. His pelvis grinds against your swollen clit with each powerful snap forward, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"I can feel her squeezin’ me," he rasps hotly in your ear, licking the shell before biting down on your earlobe. “Come on my cock, crazy girl.”
That does it. It’s more than enough to push you over the edge. “Oh—” Your head tips back with a silent scream as your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, making your entire body shudder and convulse beneath him. “Fuck… Joel!” Sparks burst behind your eyelids as pure rapture consumes you.
Mister sucks your earlobe as you come, his sweaty temple pressed against yours as the waves wash over you. He’s kissing and licking down to your neck, and bites down hard right over your pulse point, sucking hard enough to hurt. "That's it baby girl," he grunts against the spot he just bit.
It’s like your whole body is on fire, everything is too much, it’s all too good.
You feel a new pressure, a new sensation and it’s familiar, but foreign all at the same time. A new release, it’s different and it’s happening so fast.
“Stop! Oh my— Mist- Joel, p-please,” you plead for some sort of relief. “I’m gunna—”
Joel presses his lips to yours again, silencing you. You twist your head to the side, pulling away from his mouth as he kisses down your cheek to your jaw. “S’okay— let go...”
"I...I don't...can't..." You gasp out between ragged breaths. Hot, wet tears still leak from the corners of your eyes as the intense pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.
“Ya’ can,” he pants, resting his forehead on the side of your head. “Cryin’ only makes it feel better, baby girl.” He shifts his hips, angles them differently and fucks you harder- faster.
“P-Please,” you whimper, unsure if you’re begging him to stop, or to keep going. “S’too much!”
“Shut up,” he growls, nipping at your cheek gently, teeth scraping skin as he pistons into you relentlessly. “Let it happen, crazy girl.”
So you do- body obeying his command even as your mind reels with what’s about to happen. A second climax crashes over you, more intense than the first. It erupts from you in a wet splash against Mister’s lower stomach and pelvis, it drips down the curve of your ass and you feel it seeping into the mattress underneath you.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises breathlessly. “Such a good fuckin’ girl cummin’ on Mister’s cock again.”
You sob in pleasure and embarrassment simultaneously as he fucks you through it, his deep voice rasping in your ear.
“Crazy,” He murmurs. His thrusts grow clumsy, and he’s panting in your ear, kissing the side of your face. His tongue captures the tears on your cheeks again like they’re his favorite drink as your fingers dig into the soft flesh on his shoulder. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he snaps suddenly, pulling back and out of you completely.
You whimper at the loss but he presses your thighs together tightly with his hands and forearms, and slips his cock between them, the length siding through your wet folds.
Mister-J kisses your ankle, his teeth biting down on the skin as he groans loudly, warmth spreads and seeps between your thighs, and slick lower lips, the crease where your legs meet your pelvis.
You stare up at him, watching as his eyes close, his brow furrows, his hips jerking back and forth clumsily as he empties himself onto your lower half.
Your legs tremble as he slides his softening cock out from between your thighs.
That was the most incredible, and intense feeling you’ve ever experienced and you’re not sure if you should love him, or hate him for what he just did to you. The wet spot on the mattress is an embarrassing reminder of what happened seconds ago.
“S’good for ya’?” Mister asks, running one of his oven mitts over his forehead, wiping the sweat away. His eyes move from your face, down your still naked body, his cum smeared across your mound and lower stomach.
You pull your shirt closed around your bare torso, holding it closed with one hand. You use your good foot and the other hand to push yourself onto the cold concrete floor— skin scraping roughly as you shove yourself away from him.
His brows pinch together tightly, and he narrows his eyes on you. “Where’re ya’ goin’?” He sounds… concerned? Angry? Disappointed?
The words don’t find you, thoughts don’t come to you anymore as you hold the shirt over your chest and glare at him. All you can do is scream at him. It comes from somewhere deep and your lungs hurt, your throat feels like it could bleed from how raw it is after.
“Where’re ya’ goin’?”
He watches as tears continue to pour down your cheeks, your face twisting up tightly. You inhale deeply, and it looks like you’re trying to regain your composure.
Then you scream at him. It’s long and loud and hurts his ears, but he stares at you until you’re done. He continues to watch as you scurry away from him in a clumsy, stumbling crab-crawl until your back bumps into the leg of the table.
You flinch and stifle a sob, and finally take a deep, shaky breath. You use the table to push yourself to your feet, turning away from him finally. You shove the table in his direction, grabbing the shock collar remote before you turn, and limp into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.
The dull roar of the infected grows louder from upstairs. They’re still there, and that means the two of you are stuck together for at least another day or two, maybe longer.
The door opens again, and a metal bucket comes hurdling out of the bathroom and through the air. It hits the wall, and drops to the floor noisily with chaotic, metal clangs until it comes to settle in the corner by the mattress.
The door slams shut again.
You’re broken, he can see it in your eyes almost all the time, but there was a moment when he was on top of you where he thought you might have completely checked out– gone somewhere else, somewhere he didn’t mean to take you.
Traumatized the poor puppy. Pro’lly in there cryin’.
He’s not worried that you’re crying. Nope. Not even a little.
Alright- that’s what you wanna keep tellin’ yourself, go right ahead.
He’s worried he just signed his death certificate.
Joel wasn’t trying to take anything from you— not like that. You were already on top of him, riding him, but you just looked like you needed some help, like you needed him to take control. Like you didn’t know what you were doing up there, rolling and swirling your hips in any direction. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t ever going to get you there- where you wanted to be so badly.
Joel took you there, made you fucking squirt all over him and he took some sense of pride in that.
Joel helps himself to jerky and bread, he drinks as much water as his body will comfortably allow. For the first time in weeks, he’s actually full. His stomach feels like it’s stretched like he might actually burst.
–-
At first Joel thought you just needed a couple minutes. Maybe you wanted to clean up in the privacy of the bathroom without his eyes on you. But hours go by and he hears nothing coming from the separate room. Nothing.
It’s silent. Completely. No shrieking or clicking of the infected from upstairs either.
It’s the lack of control that’s pissing him off more than he would care to admit. Being captive was of course at the top of his ‘things to be pissed off about’ list, but if he was going to be stuck here with you, he wishes he could at least have a say in what goes on.
Hasn’t seen the sun, hasn’t had a proper shower in god knows when, hasn’t had a real meal in just as long. If you would give him just a little more freedom, things wouldn’t be too fucking bad here.
Now you’re gettin’ it.
You’re making Joel crazy, now he’s thinking about complying?
Y’been complyin’, Mister. Complied real damn good in that bed just then.
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit.
Has Joel been complying? What the fuck is going on? Why didn’t he kill you in bed? Why didn’t he strangle you, bite your jugular out of your throat. He could have, he felt your heartbeat on his tongue. He could have ended all of this right then.
But ya’ didn’t!
He sure fucking didn’t. He was so unworried about killing, that he made sure you came– twice – before he finished.
Looked so sweet comin’ on your cock, perfect tits bouncin’, fuckin’ pussy was immaculate.
Joel presses the oven mitts into the sockets of his eyes and groans loudly.
--
Joel’s eyes snap open at the rattling coming from inside the room. He shoots up, looking around with crusty eyes and blurry vision. He expects to see you but is met with the sight of that fucking opposum sitting on the table with a piece of Joel’s jerky in his clawed little fingers, munching happily on the dried meat.
“Git!” Joel shouts. The small animal doesn’t even flinch at Joel’s outburst, just continues to eat that precious protein. “Y’little fuckin’--” Joel grumbles, pushing himself to his feet. He stands in front of the table, looking down at it- the opposum- Puddin’.
He just stares right back up at Joel, chewing quickly and swallowing.
Kinda cute.
“S’fuckin’ gross,” Joel grumbles. He doesn’t really want to touch that thing, he doesn’t want to get whatever diseases that thing could be carrying.
He’s got a collar on.
Puddin’ does have a collar on. Joel imagines you taking your time picking it out for him, going through all the colors and designs. He can see you finding the teal and pink collar, holding it up against his fur and saying it’s perfect. That Puddin’ would be the most handsome opossum this mall has ever seen.
It makes him smile.
--
It feels like two fucking days--two goddamn days since Joel saw you walk into that bathroom and slam the door shut practically in his face.
You’re either dead in there or plotting the most painful ways to kill him. Both choices make Joel sick to his stomach.
–--
Joel watches you behind the metal grate that keeps the mattress store all locked up nice and tight. He’s on the wrong fucking side! He’s on the mall side and you’re tucked under the covers of your comfortable looking bed. Seven mattresses stacked on top of each other like you’re in some fucking story he’d read to Sarah when she was really little.
Joel almost wishes he could go back to the basement because this is more dehumanizing than being tied up by the elbows or roped up to a chair.
The metal chain around his neck is tight, and it digs into his skin. It’s thick, heavy and has prongs on it– like he’s a fucking dog. A violent dog that lunges, and bites and attacks.
You opened the door to the bathroom an hour ago with the choke chain in your hand, the shock collar remote taped to the other, and the most exhausted look Joel’s ever seen on anyone's face. Big dark circles under your eyes, disassociated stare like you weren’t even really looking at Joel when you spoke to him in almost indecipherable mumbling.
Joel fought you a little when you padlocked the choke chain to his neck, and added a smaller lock to the shock collar. But he stopped when you said you were gonna take his oven mitts off his hands.
Where are all the infected? It sounded like there had been a horde of them up here two days ago and now there is not a single sign that they had even been here.
When Joel had questioned you about what he would do if more infected came, you very confidently said that no one could get in or out that easily anymore; that you had made this place nice and safe for your ‘mister-man’.
Ain’t ever had no one like that before, have ya’?
No.
That had always been Joel’s job; to keep everyone else safe.
Who made sure that he was safe?
There had always been give and take with everyone else, even Tommy and Tess. There was love there, sure– but never just someone absolutely and completely tearing themselves open to make sure that Joel was taken care of.
The only thing you wanted in return was his company.
Might’a never touched ya’ if you hadn’t asked for it.
He wonders what your name is. How old you are, where you came from. How long have you been out here…
Joel grabs the metal cord wrapped in some sort of plastic or vinyl material that goes all the way up to the ceiling and gives it a shake as he looks up. You’ve attached it to some other sort of rope or cable that’s been tied from one end of the mall to the other.
The other end is connected to Joel’s choke chain.
As soon as your eyes closed he attempted to unclip himself from it but it wouldn’t budge. He tried everything but it was like you welded the clasp closed.
Joel wanders. That’s all he can do. He’s got more than enough slack to go into whatever store he wants and walk around, inspect.
As he does this his mind doesn’t stop thinking about you. Why didn’t you sleep with him? What did you do while he slept on the bed? Did you sleep? Have you eaten? What the fuck did you do in the bathroom for two whole days?
Joel finds a place where the sun is shining through a hole in the ceiling and faces it with his eyes closed. He could fucking cry. He didn’t realize how much he missed this, how important it was for a person to come in contact with the sunlight. He chokes down the lump in his throat and stands there, following the sun as it moves in the sky, the light coming in at shifting angles and directions. He follows it, stays in the warmth- basking in it for as long as possible until dusk settles and the sky slowly starts to turn pink.
Joel has his backpack with him. You packed him some food and water, his flashlight. A clean long sleeve shirt in case it got cold. You even threw in some whiskey for him, which he was enjoying sip by sip.
He pulls his flashlight out and uses it when he goes into an old bookstore. Some shelves are empty; nature guides, atlases, hunting and fishing- basically the entire outdoors section is gone.
The romance novels are almost bare.
Who needs those when lil puppy’s got you, right?
There are still self-help books on the shelves, almost untouched and whatever is left looks like it would fall apart in his hands if he tried to touch it.
Why’s you even in this section?
Joel wanders to the comics and takes a look at whatever is left. Some are in alright condition, wrapped in plastic away from the elements. Some do disintegrate before he can even get them out of their place on the shelf.
He grabs a Batman comic still in a vinyl sleeve and tosses it in his pack for later. There are tons more strewn all across the floor, some he remembers reading with Tommy as kids. He picks through them, looking for any worth saving and finds two more still in decent condition.
There are several department and clothing stores that look bare from the outside, but he wanders into one anyway just to see what might have been missed.
There’s an exit to the outside that's been all boarded up, with what looks like every empty clothing rack pushed in front of it. He thinks about moving all those things, breaking through the boards… but where the fuck would he go? Ten feet outside of the mall where the infected were apparently moving through?
No.
He’ll stay inside.
He paruses the homegoods section all the way in the back of the second floor and finds a wall of empty shelves except for one.
It’s filled with books- he reads through the titles: The Beginners Guide to Foraging, An Introduction to Wildlife Rehabilitation, LIVING WITH WILDLIFE- How to Enjoy, Cope with, and Protect North America’s Wild Creatures Around Your Home and Theirs, The Big Book of Skill Makers, The Complete Beginners Guide to Greenhouse Gardening- A Month by Month Planting Book to Grow 365 Days a Year, You Will Find Your People- How To Make Meaningful Friendships as an Adult. There are several Batman comics featuring Harley Quinn and The Joker.
They all look like they’ve been read thoroughly and many times.
On the same shelf there is a pink balloon animal made of glass, it has fresh flowers in it, with clean water. It takes him several seconds to realize that it’s supposed to be a bong. For smoking weed. And you’re using it as a vase.
Joel chuckles to himself and continues to look at the shelf of your important belongings. A couple rocks of different colors, an old makeup compact that has a broken mirror in it. And a small glass picture frame of a family– a mother and a father, a little girl, and a young man but his face has been scratched out beyond recognition.
On the wall behind the shelf Joel notices lines carved into the wall.
| | | | | | | | | | |
Twelve. Is that how old you were when this all happened? Is that the number of men you did this to before Joel came along? Are you going to add him to this fucking list?
Is that how many months you've been out here?
All of this suddenly feels like someone he can’t see punched Joel directly in the stomach.
Sad.
Joel makes his way to a different part of the mall, checking every entrance that he finds along the way and they’re all boarded up better than they were when he used to walk around here before you captured him. He does appreciate the effort you went through to make sure nothing could get in if you weren’t going to give him a weapon, and he couldn’t escape.
There is an old music and entertainment store where you must get your princess movies and cartoons to watch. He picks through a couple, finding a couple classics that he watched before the outbreak Office Space, Dirty Harry, The Thing, Top Gun.
He grabs a couple more that he watched as a kid with his dad and grandpa; The Magnificent 7, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. He grabs the three original Star Wars movies as well– the best ones, the only ones worth watching. The ones that started to come out right before the outbreak– Joel can’t even talk about it.
He’s done his exploring and now he sits outside of the mattress store waiting for you to wake up and let him back in. As soon as Joel unwraps the sandwich and jerky you made him, that stupid fucking oppossum comes scampering along like this is it’s dinner too.
“Get the hell outta here,” Joel grumbles, waving his hand in its direction, trying to scare it off– but it persists.
Inching closer and closer until Joel could kick it if he wanted to.
Kinda cute in the little collar.
Joel tosses a piece of his sandwich a good distance away and Puddin’ chases after it while Joel digs into his own portion.
Hours and hours go by, you sleep for so fucking long. He reads all of the comic books that he grabbed and even goes back to the bookstore to look for more. He finds nothing else that interests him so he goes to your bookshelf in the department store and grabs a couple from there to look at.
He’s flipping through the skill maker book when you finally wake up and open the grate.
Joel scrambles to his feet, watching as you rub your eyes with your one free hand, the other still has the remote tapped to your palm.
The two of you stare at each other for several silent moments before you notice the book in his hand.
“Just put it back where ya’ found it when you’re done with it, ‘kay?” Your voice is deep and filled with sleep.
Joel nods his head, and puts the book in his backpack. “Yeah, sure– hey where did all the infected go?” He questions as you toss your own pack over your shoulder and head in the direction of the food court.
“Cleared ‘em out the other day.”
“How the hell did you do that? When? After we–”
“Yup.” You cut him off with a sharp, short response. “Wasn’t that many. Kinda easy when you get high ground on ‘em.”
Joel eyes dart up to the rafters and wonders how good you are with a bow and arrow. He knows Ellie is a great shot, loves her bow and arrow. “And you moved ‘em all out on your own?”
“Yup.”
“How did you even get out of the bathroom?” Joel’s been wondering that this whole time.
You walked into the bathroom, slammed the door and the next time he saw you was coming down the stairs to the basement.
He wonders if you’re even real.
Ohh our lil puppy is real alright.
If you knew that Mister-J was going to ask all of these questions you might not have ever taken the duct tape off.
Where did the infected go? What if more get in? How did you get out of the bathroom? Where are you going now? When will you be back? Are you okay? Are you mad? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you answering me?
He’s so nosy! Asking more questions than any of the other guys combined.
Why does he even care?
Shhhhh, this is what makin’ friends is, Sweetheart.
“Used the vents to get out of the bathroom,” you sigh, not stopping or slowing down but Joel keeps up anyway, his arm brushing yours as he walks alongside you.
“What about the infected– you know the spores–”
“I burn ‘em outside at night when it’s real dark–” you explain to him quickly. “I ain’t stupid. I know ‘bout the spores. I know how the fungus works. I paid attention,” you huff softly as you reach the ladder that takes you up into the rafters and eventually out onto the roof.
Mister is too big, and probably too clumsy to follow you up here.
“M’just goin’ to get some more food… I’ll be right back– couple of minutes, okay?”
Mister looks relieved when you say this, his face relaxes and he sighs softly. “Okay, just be careful.”
— -- --- ---
“Is that my shirt?” He asks about the green and red flannel you have on when you come out of the women’s restroom in the food court. Your hair is clean, your body feels refreshed after taking a shower.
Mister looks good too with his hair slicked back, and his beard trimmed neatly.
You nod, not taking your eyes off of him. It’s almost impossible when he looks like a brand new man- handsome. He looks like he’s lost weight since he’s been here with you.
You’ll fix that. He needs to eat more than you, and he wants meat so… you’ll go get it for him. Real meat this time, even if it makes you sad how you have to get it.
“Yeah, I took it ‘cause it smelled like you.” You admit with no shame. That’s exactly why you took it. So you could sleep with it so he could warm up to his new house, with his new friend.
Mister-J chuckles, and shakes his head at you with a smirk plastered across his face. “Someone told me I stink once,” he says through his laughter.
This makes you smile because he’s happy. He looks happy, like he doesn’t mind talking to you, he’s not saying mean things. He’s sharing.
Told ya’ he’d get comfortable. Just had to be patient. We figured it all out eventually.
“You do stink sometimes, but you smell real, so I don’t mind.” You share with him as you lead him back to the mattress store. He carried the TV up earlier and said he found a couple movies he wanted to watch. They don’t really look like movies you want to watch, but you’ll give them a shot.
Anything for Mister-Joel, perfect, sweet man.
It doesn’t make this easier. Mister wants to sleep in the bed next to you, said he wanted to warm you up, but now you’re next to him again and it feels like you could burst into flames and tears all at the same time.
“What’s your name?” He whispers into your ear, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding onto you tightly from behind.
“Why?” The sirens go off inside your head. No one’s asked you that in so long, it makes your stomach flip and you feel like you could be sick.
“Told’ya mine,” He murmurs into your hair.
Joel.
When you go to answer, the words don’t come because the memories are gone. You can see your mom and dad talking to you inside your head but their voices are on mute. The name never leaves their mouth. “I don’t remember…”
OFC thank you @pedrospookie for making this cutie banner and letting me scream at about all of this!!
I need to give an extra special shout-out to the couple of other people I screamed at about this. @almostempty @gothcsz( your music recs inspired me) and thanks to @probablyreadinsmut and my unnamed friend who helped me with the TW of the chapter.
I was especially nervous to post this because I didn't want to ruin anyone's day or send anyone into their own spiral. I hope you all are OK!
thank you to everyone who has been reading!! I've never gotten such incredible feedback on a fic before and you are all so nice and make writing this story that much more fun. I LOVE YOU
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please don't hate me if I forgot you, I have a hamster brain, ok?
#pedro pascal characters#fic: girl dinner#kidnapped!joel miller x unhinged!reader#kidnapped!joel miller#crazy!reader#unhinged!reader#strong as hell bad ass bitch!reader#dddne#dead dove do not eat#smut#joel miller smut#dark!Joel#dark!reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us
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