#i want them to be happy living a quiet domestic life so bad

[toughbunnyforever]

sleepy boy

[mononijikayu]

i love you so — nanami kento.

One evening, as you watched the sunset together from your porch, Kento spoke, his voice filled with a sense of finality and peace. "I didn’t think I’d live long enough to retire from all of this." he admitted, the hint of a smile on his lips. "But being here with you… it feels like we’ve made it." You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. "We did," you whispered. "And now, we can live the life we always dreamed of." Kento’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you, sweetheart." he said quietly. "Thank you… for staying." You closed your eyes, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the distance. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Oral (F! Receiving) P to V Sex, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband;

WORDS: 6.8k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is was in a queue. i remember having a bad stomach ache writing this and just really giving up on writing because i really was not having a good day. this is not the last we'll see of sorcerer nanami. and god, we deserve a lot of fix-its for the ending. i'll give it to yall once the exam era is over. the upcoming stuff will be from queued up stuff. but thank you for being patient. i love you all!!! enjoy <3

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YOU WERE GLAD THAT YOUR HUSBAND WAS LIVE. From this moment on, you knew that there was nothing but relief now. Sleepless nights in recovery as he gets better, staying by his side most days as he tries to get himself better every single day. You yourself halted any production on your upcoming book, taking leave despite the amount of workload that you have to deal with. None of that mattered.

You just wanted to be there for your husband. Everything else can wait. Every little bit of the world can stop. You just wanted to be here with your husband. He was your everything. You did not want to miss a single thing. Because the gods know you were only happier, more relieved, knowing your husband is alive. Kento was here, and that was all you were happy about. 

As you sat by Kento's bedside, the room was quiet, save for the occasional beep of the medical equipment. His chest rose and fell in steady, rhythmic motions, a reassuring sign that he was slowly, but surely, recovering. You held his hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his skin, and that alone was enough to soothe the ache that had been gnawing at your heart for weeks.

"You're still here." Kento's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of both surprise and gratitude. “Sweetheart, I was going to be out later today. They would have called you.”

"Of course I am." you replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. " And that hardly matters. I’m not going anywhere."

Kento gave a small, tired smile, his fingers curling weakly around yours. "You should be working on that book of yours… your editor—"

"She can wait. None of that matters. You know that." you interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. "You’re more important."

He sighed, a blend of relief and exasperation. "You’re going to get in trouble."

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Let them be mad. I’m not missing a single moment of this, Kento. I almost lost you." Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the depth of your fear. "I don’t care about anything else right now. Just you."

His eyes softened as he looked at you, a quiet understanding passing between you both. "I’m sorry, sweetie." he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "For worrying you."

"You don’t have to be, my love." you whispered. "You’re here. That’s all that matters. And I’ll be here every step of the way. Every appointment, every session with Ieiri–san, every movement therapy… I’ll be there."

Kento closed his eyes briefly, the weight of your words sinking in. "Thank you," he said after a long pause, his voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "We’re in this together." you whispered. "And I’m not going anywhere."

Months passed, and with each day, Kento grew stronger. The slow but steady process of recovery, while challenging, had brought you even closer. You watched with quiet pride as Kento regained his strength, the grueling hours of movement therapy gradually paying off.

His once rigid, exhausted frame was replaced by the poised and determined man you had always known. There was a renewed warmth in his smile, one that hadn’t been there for so long—a smile that reflected the inner peace he was beginning to find.

Shoko's treatments had been a blessing, and the relief of hearing the doctors say that Kento no longer needed constant hospital visits lifted a tremendous weight off your shoulders. The news that he only needed to check in every few months was like music to your ears. He was coming home, truly home.

As you stepped through the door of your house, Kento at your side, it felt like you were walking into a new chapter of your lives. The space felt different now—warmer, more alive.

You could already picture your mornings together, the sound of soft footsteps as Kento would sneak out early for his morning ritual of visiting the neighborhood market. You imagined him returning with a fresh loaf of bread tucked under one arm, and a bottle of fresh cow milk in the other, his face calm and content in the simple act of shopping.

On the first morning he was well enough, Kento insisted on preparing breakfast. You tried to offer help, but he gently waved you off, a small smile on his lips. "Let me take care of this," he said, his tone warm but firm. "You've done more than enough for me."

You watched him move around the kitchen, still a bit slow, but determined. The smell of fresh eggs and toast filled the air, mingling with the quiet hum of morning. The way he set the table, with such careful deliberation, made your heart swell. It was perfect. Simple, but perfect.

Breakfasts became a cherished part of your daily routine, something so small, yet filled with an endless sense of joy. Kento would tell you about the sights he saw at the market, or the latest book he’d started reading at the park nearby.

The two of you would sit by the window, the sunlight spilling in, and laugh about little things, about nothing at all. It was in those moments, you felt time slow down, allowing you to savor every second.

There were no more looming threats, no more hospitals or sleepless nights. Just the quiet, steady rhythm of life together, a life you had both fought so hard to protect. The weight of the past, though never forgotten, had softened into something you could live with.

"You know," Kento said one morning, his voice cutting through the soft clink of breakfast dishes, "I never thought I’d be able to do this again. Just… enjoy the small things."

You looked up from your cup of tea, meeting his eyes. "It’s the small things that matter most," you replied gently. "And I’m just happy that we get to enjoy them together."

Kento nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. "I wouldn���t have made it without you," he said, his voice full of quiet gratitude.

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "We made it through together. That’s all that matters."

In the silence that followed, the world felt right. No grand gestures, no dramatic moments. Just you, Kento, and the simple joy of being together. Nothing felt more right than this. Your husband let his own cup of tea rise towards his lips. As he took a sip, he put it away to the side.

"Do you remember what I told you about Malaysia?" he asked, his voice low, but filled with a calm certainty.

You nodded, already knowing where this was going. "How could I forget? You always spoke about wanting to settle there, once everything was over."

Kento glanced at you, his gaze thoughtful and tender. "Well, now that I’m officially done with Jujutsu… I think it’s time." He looked away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "I’ve always dreamed of living somewhere quieter, where we can have a little peace. No more exorcisms, no more danger." He paused, his eyes meeting yours again. "What do you think?"

The mere thought of a life far from the chaos of Tokyo made your heart ache with hope. "I think it's perfect. A fresh start, just the two of us." you replied softly, your hand finding his. “And I can work from there. My job isn’t going to be a problem, my love.”

Kento squeezed your hand gently, his expression one of contentment. "You’ve been by my side through everything. Now, I want us to live for ourselves. To finally have that peace we both deserve."

A few weeks later, after countless preparations and farewells, the two of you found yourselves on a flight to Kuantan, Malaysia. As the plane descended, the sight of lush greenery, the vast ocean, and the golden sun made you both smile. It felt like the promise of a new beginning.

Once settled in a small, cozy house near the beach, Kento seemed more at ease than you had seen him in years. His once-tense shoulders were relaxed, and his usual seriousness was softened by the tranquility of your new surroundings. You spent your days walking along the shoreline, enjoying the warm breeze, and talking about everything and nothing.

One evening, as you watched the sunset together from your porch, Kento spoke, his voice filled with a sense of finality and peace.

 "I didn’t think I’d live long enough to retire from all of this." he admitted, the hint of a smile on his lips. "But being here with you… it feels like we’ve made it."

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. "We did." you whispered. "And now, we can live the life we always dreamed of."

Kento’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you close. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you, sweetheart." he said quietly. "Thank you… for staying."

You closed your eyes, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the distance. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT LIKE THIS. The days in Kuantan unfold with a rhythm that feels almost surreal after all that you have been throughMornings begin with the soft call of birds and the gentle hum of the ocean, a sound that soothes the remnants of tension in both of you.

You often wake up before the sun rises, taking comfort in the sight of Kento beside you—his expression unguarded, his brow no longer furrowed in worry. The air is warm, yet fresh, carrying the scent of the sea into your room.

The two of you have created a ritual of watching the sunrise together. Wrapped in a light blanket, you step out onto the balcony, where the sky slowly transforms from deep indigo to a golden hue.

The sight of it never fails to bring a sense of calm, especially as Kento stands beside you, his arm slipping easily around your waist. There’s something about the quiet mornings that feel intimate, as though you’re the only two people in the world, basking in a new life that finally feels your own.

Breakfasts are leisurely affairs, often consisting of fresh tropical fruits and steaming cups of coffee. Nanami has taken to savoring the local flavors with surprising enthusiasm, showing a side of him you hadn’t seen before—one of curiosity and delight in the simple pleasures of life. He’s no longer the man burdened by duty, but someone who has learned to slow down, to breathe.

After breakfast, the two of you wander into town, where the locals have already come to recognize Nanami’s stoic figure and your frequent visits to the markets. Kuantan's streets are bustling, but in a way that’s gentle and inviting, not overwhelming. 

The sea breeze follows you wherever you go, and the chatter of vendors becomes a comforting background noise. You notice how Nanami’s posture is relaxed, his eyes softer as he greets familiar faces or stops to buy ingredients for lunch.

He’s taken up cooking more often, and you enjoy watching him experiment in the kitchen with local recipes, his focus now on perfecting the blend of spices rather than wielding his cursed energy.

One afternoon, while you’re walking through a hidden path surrounded by lush greenery, Nanami suddenly stops. You look up at him, sensing he has something on his mind. His hand slides into yours, firm but gentle, a touch that speaks volumes of the man he is now—steady, grounded, and deeply content.

“I didn’t think I could ever feel this way, sweetheart.” he says, voice low but clear in the quiet of the jungle trail. “There was a time I thought peace was a luxury I’d never have.”

You squeeze his hand, knowing exactly what he means. The life you’ve built here is worlds apart from the chaos and danger you once faced together, but it's the very contrast that makes it so meaningful.

In the afternoons, you often visit the beaches. Teluk Cempedak has become your favorite spot—a place where the white sand meets crystal-clear water, and the two of you can walk for hours without encountering a soul.

Sometimes you swim in the sea, the cool water refreshing against your skin as Kento watches you with a fondness that never fades. His laughter, rare but heartfelt, comes more easily now, especially when you tease him about letting go of his suit in favor of the casual attire of your new coastal life.

It’s in these quiet, intimate moments that you notice the little changes in him. His guard is down, his movements less calculated and more relaxed. He no longer feels the weight of being a sorcerer, of having to constantly protect or fight. Instead, he’s allowed himself to simply be—Nanami Kento, a man enjoying the peace of a life he’s long deserved.

Evenings are your favorite part of the day. You sit on your veranda, facing the open expanse of the sea as the sun sets, casting brilliant hues of orange and pink across the sky. Nanami often sits beside you, a book in hand, though he rarely gets far in his reading. He’s more focused on the sound of your voice as you talk about your day, or simply enjoying the stillness that surrounds you both. Sometimes, when the mood strikes, you’ll put on soft music, and the two of you will dance slowly in the fading light, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony to a rhythm only you can hear.

One night, as you lie together in the gentle darkness, the sound of waves crashing in the distance, Nanami turns to you with a question of his own. “Did you ever think we’d make it here?”

You’re silent for a moment, reflecting on the years that led to this—of all the pain, the battles, the near misses, and the impossible choices. But now, with his arm draped across your waist and his steady breathing beside you, the answer feels simple.

“I always hoped we would, my love.” you whisper, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “It was always a dream, to just go away and be happy together. Being together was always enough. Life exists to be lived when I have you, you know?”

Kento’s lips curl into the faintest of smiles as he pulls you closer. “I know. I feel the same way.”

And as you drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the sea and the warmth of Nanami beside you, you know that this peace—this life—was worth every struggle. Here, in Kuantan, you’ve finally found your sanctuary, a place where you and Nanami can truly be free.

The following weeks in Kuantan seem to melt together in a peaceful haze, each day blending into the next in a rhythm you’ve both come to cherish. The routines you’ve settled into feel like second nature now, but they never lose their charm.

Every shared meal, every walk along the beach, every quiet evening under the stars feels like a gift—a stark contrast to the fast-paced, dangerous life Nanami Kento had once lived.

You decide to explore your new home a little deeper as time passes by. Kuantan has more to offer than its beaches, and as much as you love the ocean, there’s something exciting about venturing further into the local culture.

You both find yourselves at the Sungai Lembing Mines, a historical site nestled amidst lush greenery. The air is cooler here, the dense forest canopy providing shade as you explore the remains of the old mining town. Kento, ever the thoughtful observer, takes in the details of the place with quiet interest.

As you walk through the narrow tunnels, dimly lit by soft lights, Kento surprises you by taking your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You glance at him, his face calm but focused as he guides you through the mine. The place seems to bring out a reflective mood in him.

“I used to think life was about surviving, you know? To come home to you.” he says, his voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. “I never imagined I’d find a place where I could live—really live. Free from everything, from the pain.”

You smile at his words, understanding the weight behind them. For so long, both of you had lived on the edge, where peace seemed like a distant dream. But now, in this quiet corner of the world, you’ve found a way to truly live, just as he said.

“I’m glad we found it together, my love.” you reply, squeezing his hand gently.

Kento looks at you, his eyes softening with affection. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Later that afternoon, you visit the bustling Pasar Besar, the central market in Kuantan. The vibrant array of fruits, vegetables, spices, and street food is overwhelming in the best way.

You laugh as Kento samples unfamiliar snacks, his face betraying a rare look of surprise when something unexpected hits his palate. It’s moments like this—his subtle humor, the small ways he lets his guard down—that make you fall in love with him all over again.

You spot a stall selling batik cloth and decide to browse through the colorful fabrics. The intricate designs catch your eye, and soon enough, you’re holding up pieces, wondering which would look best as a gift. Nanami, standing beside you with his arms crossed, watches with quiet amusement as you deliberate over the choices.

“You’ll make the right decision, sweetie.” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “You always do.”

“I know I do.” You mumble back to him. “But what if I can’t decide?”

“Then buy as many as you want, sweetie. I’ll pay for it.” He grinned at you, kissing your forehead as you pouted at him. “Go on. Get as much as you like.”

Back at your home by the sea, the evenings continue to be your sanctuary. Tonight, the sky is clear, and the stars are brighter than ever. Kento is in the kitchen, cooking up one of the local dishes he’s learned to perfect—a spicy sambal to go with freshly grilled fish.

You sit at the table, watching him move around the small space with the same precision and care he once applied to missions and battles. There’s something comforting about seeing him this way, so at ease in the simple task of preparing a meal.

When he’s done, the two of you sit on the veranda, plates in hand, enjoying the quiet symphony of the night. The ocean breeze drifts through the air, and the sound of the waves creates a steady, calming backdrop to your meal.

Kento sits across from you, and though his expression remains composed, there’s a softness in his gaze as he looks at you—one that speaks of contentment, of having finally found his place.

As the night deepens, you both remain outside, not wanting to leave the serenity of the moment. The conversation flows easily, dipping into memories of the past but always returning to the present. You talk about everything and nothing—the little details of your day, plans for tomorrow, and the quiet joy of simply being together.

At one point, you catch  Kento standing on the porch, gazing out at the sea. The moonlight shimmered across the water’s surface, casting a silver glow that matched the contemplative look in his eyes. You quietly approached, leaning against the railing beside him, sensing he was lost in thought. His profile was softened by the pale light, yet his expression held a depth of reflection you hadn’t seen in a long time.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The sound of the waves rolling in gently filled the space between you, creating a calm, soothing rhythm. Finally, Kento broke the silence.

“You know, sweetie...” he began softly, his voice low and distant, as though he was speaking more to the sea than to you. “There was a time I didn’t think I’d ever end up living this life with you."

You turned to him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. He continued, still looking out at the endless horizon. "I mean, we had a lovely life in Tokyo. But I wasn’t sure I’d survive long enough to have this—to have you and well... this peace."

There was a long pause as he struggled to find the right words, his hand tightening slightly on the railing. "I thought I didn’t deserve it, you know?" he admitted, his voice barely a whisper now. "Especially with all the things I’ve done… the lives I’ve seen lost." He exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of memories you knew he still carried.

You stepped closer, gently slipping your hand into his. His grip was warm, yet tentative, like he was grounding himself in this moment. You feel a lump form in your throat at his honesty. Your beloved Kento has always been pragmatic, a man who understood the brutal realities of the world, and hearing him speak of those doubts only makes the peace you’ve found more precious.

"And I... I still feel guilty," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "Letting the kids do what I should be doing as an adult, as the one who’s been through it all. It feels like I abandoned them, like I took the easy way out by choosing this life with you."

The rawness in his confession made your heart ache. You squeezed his hand, feeling the depth of his inner turmoil. "Kento, my love….." you began softly, kissing his hand. "You didn’t abandon anyone. You’ve given so much of yourself to that world... to those kids. No one deserves peace more than you."

He turned to face you then, his eyes reflecting not only the moonlight but also the deep well of emotions he kept hidden. "But how do I live with this peace,sweetie?" he asked quietly. "How do I do it when I know others are still out there, fighting?"

You looked at him for a long moment, choosing your words carefully. "Because you’ve earned it, Kento. You’ve given your life, your time, your energy to protect others. Now, it’s time for you to live. And the kids... they look up to you, not because you’re out there fighting, but because of the wisdom you’ve shared. They’ll carry that with them. They will go on and be stronger because of what you taught them. Okay?”

He fell silent again, but this time, there was less tension in his posture. The guilt and doubt, though still present, seemed to soften in the wake of your words. He sighed deeply, a breath that felt like the release of a burden he'd been carrying for far too long.

"You’re right." he murmured, almost to himself. "I just need to let go." His gaze returned to the horizon, but this time, there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, the two of you standing there in the quiet night, the sound of the sea a constant, gentle reminder that you were here, together. In that moment, you both found peace—not in the absence of guilt or regret, but in the choice to live for the present, for each other.

"I’m just glad you’re here, my love." you whispered, your voice barely audible against the sound of the waves.

Kento turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I’m glad I’m here too." he replied, his voice full of quiet gratitude.

“You’ve done all you could, my love.” you say softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Take your rest. Enjoy the fruits of your labor. Live, okay?”

Kento looks at you, his gaze filled with a tenderness that takes your breath away. “Together.”

Your lips echo the happiest smile you could ever give him. “Together.”

The night stretches on, and as you both sit in the comforting silence, hand in hand, you realize that these quiet, intimate moments are the culmination of everything you’ve been through. You made it. You were here at the finish line.

And here, in Kuantan, you’ve found a home not just in the place, but in each other. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the future seems bright, filled with the promise of many more peaceful nights like this one, together.

THE SUNSETS WERE ONE TO LOOK FORWARD TO. Everything about it was ever so breathtaking. You both couldn't understand what beauty was until you both saw the sunset for the first time. Somehow, the world had only come to make sense when you saw Kuantan's wonderous sunset for the first time.

The beach is bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, the sky awash with shades of pink, orange, and purple. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore forms a soothing backdrop, but it’s the heat building between you and Kento that holds your attention. The sand beneath your skin feels cool, a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from his body as he hovers over you, his presence grounding yet electrifying.

His lips find your inner thigh first, a featherlight kiss that sends a ripple of anticipation through you. His breath is warm against your skin, and with every slow, deliberate movement, Kento teases you, heightening the tension that has been simmering all evening. His large hands caress your hips, his touch gentle yet firm, as if reminding you that you’re completely his in this moment.

He hums lowly, the vibrations of his voice traveling through you, sending shivers down your spine. His lips finally move to your womanhood, his touch both reverent and commanding.

You gasp softly, your fingers curling into the sand as his tongue brushes against your most sensitive spot, teasingly slow, savoring every reaction you give him. Each flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, is intentional, calculated to drive you wild.

The soft crashing of the waves matches the rhythm of his movements—slow, steady, and completely overwhelming. You feel your body respond to him in a way only he could elicit, the pleasure building slowly, winding tighter with each stroke of his tongue. He groans against you, the sound deep and satisfied, as if relishing the way your body reacts to him.

Your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as he pulls you deeper into this intimate dance. His pace remains patient, never rushing, drawing out every second of pleasure as if time itself has slowed down for just the two of you. He knows exactly how to work your body, how to make you feel cherished and consumed all at once.

“Kento…” you whisper, your voice trembling, but all you can hear is his deep hum of approval, his lips never leaving you, his focus entirely on your pleasure.

The intensity of the moment swells with the colors of the sunset around you, the world narrowing down to just him and the sensation of his mouth on you, guiding you toward the brink of bliss.

Nanami’s mouth moves with a calculated intensity, each flick of his tongue deliberate and unhurried, savoring every reaction. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, holding you in place as your body instinctively tries to shift from the overwhelming pleasure building inside you. The sun sinks lower, casting golden light across your skin, but you barely notice anything beyond the sensations Kento is pulling from you.

Your fingers twist into the sand, grasping for something solid as waves of pleasure roll through you. His tongue circles your sensitive nub, the rhythm maddeningly slow, before he pulls back, teasing you with a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. His breath is hot, mingling with the cool ocean breeze, sending a shiver down your spine.

He hums again, the low sound reverberating through your core as he returns his attention to your aching center. His tongue presses against you, swirling, as his fingers trace soft patterns over your thighs. The contrast of his teasing pace with the tight coil of need inside you is almost too much to bear.

"Patience, sweetie, hm?" he murmurs between movements, his voice low and teasing, the same words he used earlier still dripping with that calm authority that only Kento carries. Your body responds to him instinctively, hips bucking ever so slightly toward his mouth, seeking more of him, needing more.

“Kento… please, my love.” you moan, your voice barely audible, but full of raw desire. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’ve surrendered to him completely.

Instead of responding with words, he increases his pace just enough to push you closer to the edge. His tongue moves with a newfound fervor, flicking over your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing another soft moan from your lips. The sensation builds, the pleasure tightening low in your belly, curling and winding like a spring ready to snap.

Kento’s grip on your hips grows firmer, holding you steady as your body begins to tremble beneath him. You feel his fingers digging into your skin, grounding you as you teeter on the brink of release. His mouth works you with relentless precision, his movements growing more intense, more focused.

Your breathing becomes shallow, your heart racing as the tension inside you builds, each flick of his tongue sending you closer to the edge. The cool night air mixes with the heat radiating from your body, and with one final, perfect stroke of his tongue, the dam breaks.

A wave of pleasure crashes over you, your back arching as your release floods through you. You cry out his name, your fingers grasping at the sand as your body shakes with the force of your orgasm. Kento stays with you, his tongue moving slowly, gently, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re left breathless and trembling beneath him.

He finally pulls away, his lips brushing your thigh one last time before he crawls up beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. His breath is steady, calm, a stark contrast to the wild thrum of your heartbeat as you come down from your high.

The two of you lie there in the soft glow of the fading sunset, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. Nanami presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm.

"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispers, his voice full of admiration as he holds you close, the sound of the waves lulling you into a state of perfect contentment.

Kento’s strong arms around you feel like the safest place in the world as you lie there, his warmth radiating against your skin, contrasting with the cool breeze of the beach. The remnants of your release still pulse through your body, leaving you relaxed and utterly content, the sound of the waves adding to the peaceful rhythm of the moment.

He pulls you closer, resting his chin on top of your head, his fingers still tracing soft patterns along your arm. There's a quiet satisfaction in the way he holds you, as if he’s savoring the moment just as much as you are. The sun has dipped fully below the horizon now, and the sky is painted with deep purples and blues, the stars beginning to peek through the night’s curtain.

You shift slightly in his arms, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes are soft, reflecting the dim light of the fading day, and there's a small, content smile tugging at the corners of his lips. In the stillness of the night, you can see the depth of his emotions in the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters to him at this moment.

“Kento…” you whisper, your voice soft, still breathless from the intensity of what just happened. There’s something unspoken in the air between you, something deeper than just desire.

He tilts his head down, brushing his lips gently against yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, filled with the love and care he always shows you. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity of just moments ago, but it feels just as intimate, just as consuming.

“I love you, sweetheart.” he murmurs against your lips, his voice deep and full of warmth. “More than I could ever put into words.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, the sincerity in his tone making your chest tighten with emotion. It’s moments like this that remind you just how deeply you’ve fallen for him—his strength, his patience, the way he always knows exactly how to make you feel cherished.

“I love you too, Kento. More than you know.” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. You nuzzle closer to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek as you rest your head on his chest. His hand comes up to gently stroke your hair, his touch soothing as you lie together in the quiet.

“Fuck me, my love. Please.” you whisper breathlessly, your voice laced with need. “Need you, Kento.”

The playful edge in your tone catches him off guard, and a smirk dances on his lips. He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you with a mix of amusement and desire, his eyes glinting in the soft moonlight.

“Is that so?” he replies, a teasing lilt in his voice. “After everything we just did?”

You nod, biting your lip, feeling that familiar heat pooling in your belly again. The way he gazes at you ignites that fire within, the hunger mirrored in his own expression. There’s a magnetic pull between you, a need that feels insatiable.

With a low chuckle, Kento shifts, moving to hover over you once more, the cool sand beneath you feeling inviting as the warmth of his body envelops you. The playful teasing in his eyes remains, but there’s also a seriousness in the way he leans closer, his breath mingling with yours.

“How wanton. My precious sweetheart is wanton.” he murmurs, echoing his earlier words but with a different tone. He’s still in control, yet you can sense the excitement building in him as well. He brushes his lips against yours, a soft yet electrifying connection, before trailing kisses down your neck, each one igniting your skin.

Your body responds instinctively, arching into him, craving more of that sweet friction. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, your pulse quickening as he teases you, his hands exploring every inch of you, igniting every nerve ending.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, a hint of challenge lacing his words. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

You meet his eyes, determination swirling on your own. “I want you, Kento. Now.”

With that, he smiles, a wicked gleam in his eye, and his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick and intoxicating, as you both lose yourselves in this moment, ready to explore the depths of your desires once again under the fading light of the sunset.

Kento’s own gaze darkens with desire, but a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Patience, my dear sweetheart. I told you before." he murmurs, his tone low and teasing. His fingers move with deliberate slowness as he lowers his shorts, pulling down just enough for his thick, veiny cock to spring free. The sight of him makes your heart race.

He doesn't rush. Instead, he takes his time, rubbing his cock between your wet, needy folds, coating himself with your arousal. The sensation is maddening, and every time he slips his cock in just a little before pulling back out, you whine with frustration. You’re desperate for more, for him to fill you.

"You drive me crazy, sweetie." he growls, his large hands gripping your hips firmly. In one smooth motion, he pushes himself inside you, stretching you out in a way that feels so deliciously overwhelming. You gasp, your back arching off the sand as his cock fills you to the brim. He’s big, so big that even just the tip feels like it’s splitting you open.

"So big, Kento,oh—" you moan, your fingers digging into the sand as your body adjusts to the feeling of him buried so deep inside you. His groan rumbles through the air, the sensation of your walls gripping him tightly nearly sending him over the edge.

His hips press forward, and you feel the bulge in your tummy as he nestles himself even deeper into you. His thrusts are slow, controlled, and purposeful, driving you wild with the sweet agony of wanting more.

"You're squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." he grits out, his voice strained as he struggles to maintain his composure. “Too tight.”

Your husband’s slow pace remains deliberate, each slow thrust making you feel every inch of him as he stretches you so fully, so deeply. His hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you against him, forcing you to take him completely. The sensation is overwhelming—his thick cock filling you, stretching your walls in a way that makes it hard to think of anything but him.

Your moans mix with the sound of the crashing waves, and the setting sun casts a warm glow over both of you, illuminating the scene in a soft, golden light. The contrast between the cool breeze on your heated skin and the fiery pleasure building inside you sends shivers down your spine.

“My love, please. Please….Oh, oh….” you beg, your voice barely a whisper, strained with the need for more. You can feel him twitching inside you, his control faltering slightly as your tightness drives him closer to the edge.

“Let me work you up, a little, hm? Patience, sweetie.” he rasps again, though the way his breathing grows more ragged tells you he’s not far from losing it himself. His cock glides in and out of you with a torturous rhythm, teasing you, keeping you right on the precipice without giving you the release you crave.

Desperate, you rock your hips against him, trying to take more, trying to force him deeper. The movement earns a low groan from him, and suddenly, his grip tightens, his control slipping as he slams into you harder, burying himself completely.

Your body arches beneath him, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as the intense pressure of him filling you sends waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body. His pace quickens, the lazy tease of his earlier movements replaced with the primal need to claim you, to make you feel nothing but him.

“Fuck, sweetie.” he growls, his voice deep and rough with lust. “You’re taking me so well—so tight, so fucking perfect. My little wife. Mine, mine. Only mine.” He thrusts into you harder, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots that make your vision blur.

Your hands grasp at the sand for stability, but it does nothing to ground you as pleasure builds inside you, coiling tight in your core. “Kento, I can’t—” You can barely get the words out, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “You can, sweetheart. You’re mine. Let go.”

His words, his voice, the feeling of his cock driving deeper and deeper—everything hits you all at once. With a cry, you fall apart beneath him, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over you. Your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper as your orgasm takes over, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Kento groans, the tightness of your release pushing him to the brink. His thrusts grow erratic, his grip on your hips bruising as he chases his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he spills inside you, filling you completely as his body tenses and shudders against yours.

For a moment, the world stands still—the only sounds are the soft crash of waves and your labored breathing. Kento slowly pulls out of you, his cock still throbbing as he collapses beside you on the sand, pulling you into his arms.

The sun dips below the horizon, casting the last of its golden light over the two of you. Wrapped in his embrace, with the warmth of his body still lingering between your legs, you close your eyes, content in the quiet aftermath.

“I love you, Kento. So much. More than you know. ” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the ocean breeze.

He presses a kiss to your temple, his voice soft and tender. “I love you too, sweetheart. But I love you more.”

You laugh softly. “I won’t win against you, aren’t I?”

Kento smiled back, leaning forward to kiss you. “Hm, no. I love you too much, sweetheart. I think I’m willing to fight for the title.”

“Hm….then I will too.” You kiss his jaw, grinning at him. 

He laughs. “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This was requested by anon, yet i lost the og request. Here you go, darling. On another note, I feel I wrote Trey way too many times here lololol

Warnings: yandere content, power imbalance, threats, broken darling, gn!reader

Affection: Trey’s affection is subtle yet intense. He loves through small acts — cooking your favorite dishes, anticipating your needs before you voice them. His devotion borders on obsession, and he’ll be constantly near, gentle in tone but with a possessive undertone. In private, his affection grows insistent, almost overwhelming, as he ensures you’re constantly reminded of how “perfect” things are when you’re together. All you need is him.

Blood: Trey isn’t one to get messy — at least, not in an obvious way. If anyone becomes an obstacle, he’s skilled at handling things quietly, ensuring that any threats to his happiness with you “disappear” without leaving a trace. But if push comes to shove, he’s not above a more hands-on approach. After all, he’s just protecting what’s his in his perspective.

Cruelty: His cruelty is masked by kindness. While he wouldn’t openly mock you, he might gently tease, subtly reminding you of your “place” if you show defiance. He’d treat you well, showing restraint, but his words would carry subtle, cutting reminders that resistance is futile. And what can you do against him? Trey is well loved by the other students and they are more prone to believe him than they are with you.

Darling: His control is delicate but firm. He wouldn’t need to use overt force, but his expectations are clear. If you’re reluctant about something, he’ll patiently convince you / compromise with you so things can go his way, sweetly and persistently guiding you into compliance without direct coercion. Yet, he is not afraid of punishing you for misbehaving.

Exposed: Trey hides his darker tendencies well, even from you, only hinting at his possessive side when he feels your loyalty waver. He shows his heart in gentle ways — vulnerable moments late at night, sharing memories and telling bad jokes, comforting you, spoon feeding you sweets he just made. But he guards his obsessive side carefully, wanting to keep a polished image.

Fight: If you fight back, he’ll take it in stride, simply smiling and offering calm reminders that he only wants the best for you - he always wants the best for you, you know? Beneath the calm exterior, though, he’ll become a bit more strict, carefully watching for further resistance and ensuring it never becomes an issue. He tries again and again to find common ground with you because he loves you and values your opinions a lot, yet when you are being unreasonable, he can't help but make things his way.

Game: To Trey, this isn’t a game — it’s his life. He wants you fully in it, with no room for escape. Watching you try to leave is heartbreaking to him, though he’ll hide that pain behind a patient, almost disappointed expression, as if waiting for you to realize there’s nowhere else for you but with him.

Hell: The worst experience with Trey would be his quiet, eerie punishments. If you defy him, he’ll start limiting your freedom piece by piece, removing privileges like outside time or contact with others until you feel as trapped as he needs you to be. You want to act like he is just some kidnapper, so he shall treat you like a prisoner - things don't have to be this way, but you love to play the victim.

Ideals: Trey envisions a “perfect” domestic future where you both live happily ever after, maybe even settling down in a small, peaceful place. He wants a life with you where you’ll grow to “appreciate” him, living under his devoted, watchful care, like the cute lover he knows he can shape you to be.

Jealousy: He keeps his jealousy in check, hiding it behind a calm smile. He's not really that jealous, you can have your friends, your interests, but when you start putting this things before him, that's when he gets annoyed and jealous of everything that is stealing you from him. Anyone who gets too close will feel his silent wrath. Though, instead of lashing out publicly on others as Riddle would do, he’ll take more covert actions to make sure no one stands between you and him.

Kisses: Around you, Trey is tender and calm. He likes subtle, lingering touches, a hand on your back, brushing hair from your face, soft kisses on your forehead. There’s warmth in each gesture, but if you look closely, you’ll see the underlying possessiveness in his eyes.

Love letters: Trey’s courting is subtle, coming in the form of thoughtful gestures, acts of service, and quiet, charming words. He’d woo you over time, acting as the ideal friend and confidant, making you feel comfortable enough to trust him before his intentions grow clearer.

Mask: Trey’s friendly, laid-back demeanor hides his possessive nature well. Most people wouldn’t suspect anything; he’s excellent at keeping his darker urges under wraps. However, if you look closely, you might notice glimpses of his true, obsessive self when he thinks no one’s watching.

Naughty: If he needs to punish you, Trey prefers psychological methods. A quiet withdrawal, locking you in a room for a few hours, or restricting privileges—his punishments are subtle but effective, designed to make you feel remorseful and compliant without scaring you too openly.

Oppression: Trey would gradually limit your freedoms, convincing you it’s for your own good. At first, it might just be limiting certain people you interact with; later, it may extend to when and where you’re allowed to go. His rules tighten until there’s hardly any choice left but to depend on him.

Patience: Trey is endlessly patient, willing to wait as long as it takes for you to accept him. He views any resistance as temporary, believing that with enough time and care, he’ll win you over.

Quit: If you escaped, Trey would search tirelessly. You mean too much to him to let go, and he’d follow every lead until he found you, ready to start over as if nothing had happened. If he couldn’t find you, he would never fully move on, haunted by the loss and always watching for any sign of you.

Stigma: I see him having more of a possessive side that stemmed from a need to protect, perhaps from early experiences of people he cared about leaving - his siblings, in extention, Riddle. Now, he craves control over the one person he believes he can’t afford to lose, over his beloved darling.

Regret: He rarely feels regret. In his mind, his actions are justified by his love. If you suffered, it’s only because you didn’t understand that he’s doing this for both of you. Letting you go would feel like a betrayal to his heart.

Tears: Seeing you in distress is painful, but he’d take it as part of the process. He’d comfort you afterward, softening his tone, reminding you that he’s doing everything for your own good and that things will be easier once you accept him.

Unique: His approach is subtle and controlled. Rather than outward aggression, he uses manipulation and charm, making you feel secure while quietly drawing the walls in tighter around you until you have no choice but to rely on him. He is so much like a spider weaving its web.

Vice: His greatest weakness is his need for your acceptance, for your love. If you managed to feign affection, slowly gaining his trust, you might have a chance to manipulate him or even escape under his watchful eye.

Xoanon: Trey places you on a pedestal, thinking of you as his perfect match. His devotion runs deep, but it’s twisted by his possessiveness. He would go to great lengths to win you over, molding himself into whatever role you needed, all to ensure you remain by his side. He can be rough, he can be gentle, he can be anything you need.

Wit’s End: While Trey rarely lashes out, he would become harsher if truly provoked. Physical harm would be a last resort, and only if he felt it necessary to “teach” you a lesson. His punishments would be calm and methodical, just enough to remind you of his control. Yet they give you nightmares for many nights to come.

Yearn: He would watch you from afar, admiring your quirks and mannerisms, feeling everything you made him feel. It’s a slow burn, but once he realizes his feelings won’t fade, he begins crafting his plan, how he can guide you to come to him willingly, how he can make you depend on him.

Zenith: Breaking you isn't on his plans for you; he’d prefer for you to come around to him naturally. But if it took breaking you down to ensure your obedience, he would do it, promising himself that, in time, you’d come to “understand” his love. And if you broke beyond repair, then he can take care of you.

[missmarveledsblog]

ITS A START part one

summary : when joel is settling into life in jackson there's one thing that has his attention , a woman of the name Y/N . The loner who barely spoke to anyone other than his brother til joel and y/n are sent to find supplies he soon finds out the reason why the girls quiet as he tries to break down the walls she built so long .

warnings: mentions of death of family and children ( readers brother and joel's daughter) , animals being eating since its the apocalypse , pain and sadness but some happy tones in there too . Mention of domestic violence too so

Coming to jackson was never meant to be anything but temporary of course everything changes nothing is set in stone in a world that fell to pieces one day . it wasn't suppose to be long and yet it dawning on two years since ellie and he arrived in jackson . it had what he needed the rest be dammed , his brother was here , ellie had stability something that the girl never had before , it was like everything in the damned town amazed her but then again most of the kids or young folk were amazed at things from the past if it seemed new. It seemed like jackson had it all , community , security and god damn it was he too old to be kept on the damn road yeah jackson was the end stop to plant roots and live it out til the day he took his last breath .

what joel didn't expect jackson to have was Y/N . She arrived a little before joel and ellie , she kept to herself most times hell knows what the woman had seen or had to do but he knew it wasn't pretty , he knew that look one of a person forced to do the unthinkable just to keep going. She kept quiet maybe she was still not trusting of it all he couldn't blame her hell he had his reservations. He watched her eyes observing everything around her waiting for it to go bad at some stage and little by little she relaxed yet still kept herself to herself and it wasn't for lack of trying hell every single man in town had tried to chance their arm with the woman which he couldn't blame them she was a pretty one he couldn't deny it. But she was too closed off only ones that could get her to talk was tommy and maria and even at that it was short and to the point.

He was surprise one morning to find her and tommy standing on his doorstep , confusion didn't last long when tommy explain she would be joining joel as he went on a scavenge hunt looking for things the towns folk were low of .

" you know how use a gun and knife" he asked expecting the usual nod or shake of her head when people talked to her.

" yes sir" he was surprise to hear how soft her voice was , how sweet the tone it help in those two words.

" well i'll meet you in the stables in twenty minutes don't keep me waiting" he said wondering would she speak but it went back to the gestures of answers . " go get ready i'll see you then" he said before heading into his house nearly running into ellie on his way .

" i guess i'm staying with tommy and maria huh" she asked.

" Yeah, so keep the language to a minimum. we don't need that baby coming out swearing like a sailor," he teased, shooting her a little smile . " work a miracle and get the pretty one to crack her shell because that will be day i stop fucking swearing old man" she snorted heading into the kitchen ready to tease the old man make sure get some extra shots for the road too . he never took it to heart it was just here being a teenager, which was all he wanted for her now . Packing the small bag of things he would need he dropped ellie off at his brothers before heading to the stable not seeing her outside , he headed in thinking he'd get the horses ready so they could just go but what he didn't expect was the quiet woman had same idea both horses ready and the ones he would of choose at first.

" Ready," he asked .

" yes sir" she said again bit louder.

" call me joel," he simple said as they took off heading to a town not so far away maybe a day trip so it wasn't too much for the woman's first outing .

" we'll ride for couple of hours there's a cabin couple hours away stop for the night check around for some deer or something then hit the town first thing in morning" he explained.

" why not get the deer on way back meat would be fresher" she asked .

" or we could do that" he chuckled shaking his head.

" is it a list sort of thing or grab whatever available sort of thing" she asked again that damn voice calling him like a siren to a sea , how the hell could something as simple as a voice effect him so much maybe he been out of the game to long yeah that was it .

" grab whatever is well not broken beyond compare but the likes of medical supplies shit like that is always needed" he said taking the lead as the two looked for the nearest town or maybe the next one to that .

It was still daylight thankfully when they arrived in the town , it was completely void of anything that would be considered life . seemed a complete ghost town not even an infected about although it was never completely ruled out. They tied up the horse before setting off he notice her movement got more quiet but yet still efficient like this part she was born for and maybe she was granted she was probably twenty years younger then him . she probably was only a baby when this whole world went to shit which was sad kids now and young adult such as the one at his side never knowing what it was like before all the infected business like what it was like to go out with friends to the mall or movies or nightlife of dancing at clubs and bars it was simple things but they were missed by alot of the older folk . each house had barely anything few clothes that could be fixed up for the younger folk. One house they came to she took the upper level while he checked out the lower floor. He'd have to give it to her she move silently but when he was searching through a kitchen he noticed it was too quiet something that about that sent him into gear almost taking the steps two at a time.

Only to stop seeing her standing holding a blanket in her hands looking completely broken til she noticed him instantly that wall came up and she was almost emotionless again shoving the blanket into her bag and continuing the search pretend he didn't catch her in a moment of weakness , maybe it reminded her of life at some point but he wasn't going to push not now anyway instead silently he came to her side and looked with her , no words exchanged as the two set about there business.

The haul was surprisingly good they found shit ton of things that the town folk would appreciate even a couple of good sewing kits although she kept one and he was keeping the other not that he knew how to sew but couldn't be that hard . last house was all the needed to check and then it was it he took the top floor as she took the lower both taking turns even though it wasn't planned it worked well . what he didn't expect was as he searched the bathroom , a small smile on his face as he found a first aid kit fully stocked it was like finding gold as he added it to the bag . then he heard it that noise everyone dreaded when he looked up seeing the infecteds reflection in the small broken mirror . he went to turned as it dove at him , he felt like it was the end knowing this was it , this was going to be the last breath he drew but even in that sentiment he was going to go down fighting kicking and scratching if needed. He was ready to give it all he got only for a knife to be drove into the sweet spot instantly killing the fungus riddled bastard as it fell she stood calm as a peach pulling the knife out of the skull and wiping it clean on ratted up shower curtain .

" you good" she asked slight pant to her voice.

" yeah i'm good lets go before more come" he said only to earn a nod of agreement pulling the bags they walked quietly but fast towards the unharmed animals and setting off to the cabin needing some form of rest. He almost died nearly let an infected take him, and yet he was still standing all because the silent beauty was there . they barely spoke, scoping the place out wasn't only the infected you needed to be wary of, but the coast was clear , the area was empty bar some deer prints they could check out in the morning. Like it was second nature, she checked around the cabin before setting her things do, n grabbing some wood for the fire and grabbing some food they found . he barely registered his own voice as the words came from his mouth .

" thanks back there woulda been goner if it ain't been for you" he said almost gruff whisper.

" you woulda done same fer me" she shrugged.

" still a girl in jackson would be grateful" he couldn't help smile as he said it.

" well i'm glad i could save her daddy nothing worse losing family" she said so sadly .

" she not my daughter i'm just looking out for her , she alone needs some guidance is all" he explained.

" ellie right , nah that's your daughter you look at her like she is doesn't take blood to be family as much as people might think" she shook her head and he could of sworn he'd seen her mouth twitch up maybe for a second but he saw it.

" good she has you , worlds shit enough without trying to navigate it alone that's for sure" she added.

" you know i think this most i've heard you speak hell i think today is first time i've heard your voice" he chuckled .

" i guess being alone for so long you forget how to talk sometimes" she nodded.

" well you should get to know the folk of jackson, there good people and won't be so lonely" .

" lonely don't get you hurt" she said easily.

" the blanket earlier remind you of someone" he asked seeing it peak out of her bag.

" my little brother , he was four when he died , happiest little boy just full of life could make you forget the shit going on in the word , raiders came to my families camp wanted everything we had , my daddy gave it to them then they wanted me well my daddy shot the man that grabbed me quicker that you could draw a breath it all happened so fast bullets fly , lucas got scared went to run to my mama and she ran to him telling him get down then they were both down not moving , the only thing that made the world seem like it was ok was gone my daddy lost it seeing them like that he began shooting hitting them all only as he went to check on my mama, one wasn't as dead as he thought shot him i didn't even think i just picked that gun up and shot then i was alone all my world was gone in an instant maybe if i went with them he'd be alive now" said softly her voice cracking ever so slightly as her hand felt the material . " i've been alone ever since twenty plus years of living on this planet and i ain't never wanna feel that kind of pain again" she not daring to look up at the man .

" you must of been young yourself men like that are animals could of done all sorts" joel tried to reason yet he was more shocked she opened up. " i was fourteen i could of handled , then I thought I was safe , he made me feel safe but like most it was a trap , called his wife , you believe that way he treated me wasn't how man should treat his wife , my daddy showed me how from way he loved my mama been alone ever since " she said finally looking up . " well now you ain't got to , look i know what ever you had to do wasn't pretty i know that more than anyone i lost family but i also got family and wise person told me it don't take blood to make one" he winked .

" well they weren't my blood my real folks died and they took me in ,they were my family" she sniffled hating she was letting herself be so vulnerable how the hell was this man able to crack the what she though was indestructible walls so easily .

" come ere" he said softly watching her fighting on whether or not to take that step let herself to let someone in or not and yet she did she was tired of being the one that picked herself up even if it was just that night well she was going to let someone in. she slowly crawled into his arms letting it all out ten years of emotions spilled out of her the moment his arms wrapped around her. She must of cried herself to sleep because she woke during the night seeing herself still in joel's arms the man as rubbing her head and telling her

" i got ya " , " let it out". Letting the man sleep she pulled out of his arms letting the man rest as she sat in the stool near the door watching out for any sign of a threat that could be lurking in the darkness .

That was exactly how he found her eyes watching at the sun began to rise . " why didn't ya wake me" he said voice lace with sleep as he stretched his aching muscle out.

" ain't nothing i can sleep when i get back , you looked deep in sleep plus that snoring had to make sure you didn't lure the infected here" she said heading off to the back where the back room was could of sworn there was a playful lilt to her voice .

shaking his head he grabbed his water bottle and small pot to began making much needed breakfast a little proud of getting her to open up and from how hard she was crying it was like she needed it . When she walked out she seemed less tense , less tightly wound up like before .

" breakfast then we hunt that deer" he said nodding for her to take a seat.

" i brought coffee" she said pulling the small bag of it out of her bag.

" the most important thing in the morning" he joked and she actually laughed it was low but he heard it.

" you think that deer is still around" she asked seemly wanting to try the whole talking thing more .

" he's a round some where close if not sure rabbits and stuff are around" he said pulling two cups from his bag .

" whats the worse animal you've eaten" she asked getting set on her task.

" hmm id say cat" he winced remember it wasn't a great moment .

" i'd say rat"she chuckled again bit loud be if it wasn't the sounds of an angel he wasn't sure what was.

" rat ain't bad not much to em" he said.

" my daddy said he ate a hamster before said it worst thing he's ever eat although bless the man couldn't cook for shit" she shook her head smiling .

" how long where you with them" .

" oh since a baby , my birth mama was dying and she asked them take me , they could of said yes and just left me but they didn't , raised me as i was there own same with lucas was like the same thing all that history repeating itself sort of thing they didn't even think twice and took him" she said voice cracking .

" i know what it's like to lose family , i lost my daughter sarah , died in my arms just as the world was falling , it never leaves you and i did what you done i never let myself get close but that ain't living either hell she'd give me hell for doing it" he said his own voice wavering but if she could bare that part of herself well he could do the same.

" i'm guessing ellie didn't give you much choice did she" she asked smiling more that was his new favourite thing about it all was her smile .

" no she didn't , got mouth of her too i mean she would put a sailor to shame" . " come on lets eat and get that deer i doubt there's hamster about" he joked as he began plating up the food as the two made small talk learning little things about each other , joel would tell her about life before infected and she would tell him places she'd been seemly all over the continent the sad part was she was alone through it all dealing with things no one should at such a young age with the hands of a monster .

They followed the tracks , again quiet as she walked both hiding behind a tree , the deer indeed had not strayed too far . he held up his rifle ready to shot until the deer headed off running and they heard them coming . least three voices getting louder and louder as the hide out of view .

she was pale , he could see fear in her eyes she though it was history repeating itself , god she was idiot for letting him get close and now it was going to be all over. They spotted them coming closer she went to move towards joel only for a hand to pull her away.

" well look what we have here" the man snickered looked down her frame hungrily .

" let her go and be on your way" he almost growled the other two held out their knife .

" or we take her and not kill you" the man pulled her harder to his chest smelling her hair making her body cringe.

" joel" she said softly telling him what she wanted to tell her father all those years ago he could see it in her eyes . " can take care of yourself" he said almost telling her to look past that fear and thankfully she did pulling the blade from her belt and holding it to the man's crown jewel.

" i wouldn't move if i was you i got ammo and she got him by the balls" he said holding the rifle up at the men.

" how about you turn your asses around and go back where you came" she said pushed the tip hard as if pierced through his jeans yet didn't touch anything.

" KEEP YOUR CRAZY BITCH" The man gulped pushing her forward out of his grasp only for her to pull the pistol from joel's belt.

"Says the scum that sniffling my hair drop your weapons and fuck off" she yelled.

" aint gonna use that princess" which was perfect timing for her to spot something fussy as she took the shot sending the men running .

" i got dinner" was all she said walking and picking up the now dead rabbit.

" you were going to let them take you" he growled.

" i would of gotten away" she said .

" well you ain't alone anymore so i ain't leaving if trouble come you got me .. im your friend " he said heading back in the direction of the cabin .

" they would of attacked you" she said getting annoyed.

" i got a gun" he said. But she stayed silent holding out his gun for him to take it back slight guilty seeing he was hurt she was gonna let them take her but she didn't want the first friend she's had to get hurt because of her.

" truce i don't have the social awareness to deal with an argument" she asked being honest but it did make him laugh.

" enough to crack joke next time no being alone no more , you got me now" he said taking the gun.

" do i have a choice" she asked trying to not smile .

"no come on that gun shot might attract infected" he nodded as two headed back to the cabin packing up their things and heading back.

Tommy opened the gate as they headed in following the two to the stables ready to help with the suppile .

" what you get" he asked as they tied up the horses she handed over the bag of thing as well as the rabbit that was still dripping of blood.

" wait here" joel took the blanket out and handed it to her clean hand .

" really" she asked .

" really take it , she good out there saved my ass a couple of times" he said turning to tommy . " doesn't shut up talking though" he added .

" says the one what is it with you millers and talking so much i swear y'all could talk for texas" she called over her shoulder as tommy's jaw dropped in shock .

" i'll be damn she's cracking joke i think that loudest i've heard her voice what hell you do out there" he turned to his brother.

" didn't give her choice i mean she aint gonna be social butterfly with but it's a start" he chuckled heading out to his own house leaving his brother stunned completely at the even thought little but major interaction from the towns two most social awkward people .

" it a start" the younger miller chuckled to himself wondering where this was heading but boy was he excited to see it unfold because it a start of something .

Part two

[vanderlesbian]

141 dating a civilian

hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL

writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........

gn reader! no warnings :)

masterlist

captain john price

- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.

- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.

- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.

- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.

- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"

simon "ghost" riley

- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.

- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.

- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.

- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.

- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.

kyle "gaz" garrick

- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.

- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.

- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"

- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.

- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.

john "soap" mactavish

- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.

- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.

- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"

- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.

- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.

[2demondogs]

Hi! Could I get some domestic Charles headcanons? Like if him on his own ranch with his partner and children?

Sure!! Gender-neutral reader! Sorta hit a block on this one bc while I want to wife Charles up 100%, I am very much destined to be a Cool Gay Uncle, so I hope it's okay lol.

Charles does most of the hunting, slaughtering, and cooking. He's good at the former, doesn't mind the rest, and he likes that you compliment the latter. If you want to join him catching dinner or cooking it, Charles is usually more than happy to have company. He'd also love the opportunity to teach you whatever he can; once they're old enough, teaching the kids is his favorite way to bond with them.

He does need alone time, and wants to give you yours. There's only so much interaction anyone can take, and Charles is a naturally reclusive man. Normally, he'll take hunting trips or repairs around the place as an excuse to be on his lonesome for a while. If you're not someone who frequently needs to recharge on your own, he'll probably worry that he's stressing you out being so... around.

For a quiet guy, he rambles at night. Charles tends to talk pre-sleep anxieties out with you when he's tired enough — and he has a lot of them, for living such a slow life nowadays. Things from the past, what comes in the future, what that hide will fetch. By the time kids come along, he'll wear his brain smooth on one side worrying about them. Especially the girls. He is a Girl Dad for sure.

Charles is not very good with young kids. He's good at respecting them as their own tiny, more chaotic versions of adults. Patience is a virtue, and he can put up with their nonsense — though that's more affectionately thought than anything — for a long time, as long as they're satisfied in committing it. Once they start crying, though... let's just say that approaching a child the same way he approaches wounded animals worked until he spoke too hard on accident, and the kid burst into tears again.

Kids love him regardless. Usually, anyways. There was a period of time where babies tended to cry whenever he looked at them, and neither of you really know why to this day. But he's quiet, so they can talk all they want; he's tall and sturdy enough to climb; very firm hugs, and doesn't mind giving them; and once they're old enough, his advice is solid without being too kind. He's kept his physique if only because, for some reason, every single kid has loved being swung around like a feed sack. Like most things, he doesn't get the appeal, but whatever makes the critters happy, y'know?

Despite the difficulties, a family was never a bad idea. Charles likes the idea of having roots, and having them with you. Anything stationary is a grace in his life. To think the rest of it could be nothing but that is at once suffocating and comforting. He'll probably drag you all on a few trips and wander off on some excursions to sate the drive to run around, but beyond that, he's just fine being a homebody now that he's got a home.

One of his more sentimental insistences is a yearly family portrait. It's an expense, but ranching is good enough money to warrant it. Beyond expressions of contentment, he doesn't often make gestures or say much in the vein of this— but it says enough about what you all mean to him that he gets a few prints of each one.

He doesn't tell the kids much of his history. Of course, he connects with them as deeply as he can because they're his babies. Charles is the master of dropping absolutely horrific lore on them over a beer once they hit their thirties, but before then? Good luck. It's dangerous, sure; he wasn't always a good man, no, and sometimes he's ashamed; most of all, what happened in and to the Van der Linde gang — and the world they sprouted from, and where that world is buried, and where the world is going nowadays, and everything else — still scares him. He would be happier if you didn't know a lick of it, either.

[thedeviltohisangel]

Fall For A Shooting Star//Cassian Week 2024: Day Three, Family

a/n: a fluffy little thing of cassian and his mate and their baby boy. a glimpse into the domestic life of this little romance i am working on for this week! there are plenty of opportunities to take this in so many different directions and hopefully i can circle back to them and make them all come to life. if you have any ideas, please shoot them my way xoxo

previous part

The cool night air soothed not only the babe in her arms but caressed her skin into comfort as well. Her silk robe was falling off her shoulder but she was too preoccupied to fix it. Jace, born only a few days ago, was restless. Too interested in seeing the moon or hearing his mother’s voice or waiting up for his father to even think about falling asleep. He was already an endlessly curious babe. Seemingly afraid to close his eyes and miss even a moment of what the world outside his mother’s womb had to offer.

“You can close your eyes, little one. I promise papa will say goodnight to you when he gets back.” Jace was quiet and for that Thea was thankful. So many of the babes at Windhaven had wailed through the night and many of the females she’d met at the new mother group in Velaris looked like they hadn’t slept in years due to the crying of their children. She hadn’t prepared for her son to be so quiet. He didn’t like to sleep but he didn’t make a sound with his discontent for it. “Did your Uncle Az teach you the benefits of being so quiet already?” She smiled and kissed the top of his head, gently rocking her hips back and forth on one of the House of Wind balconies. 

With timing that was spectacularly perfect, the silhouette of bat wings appeared on the horizon. Cassian looked like he had been launched from a cannon, anxious to be reunited with his small, little family, but pulled himself to a graceful halt at the edge of the property and descended onto the balcony with nothing more than a light bounce to his feet. 

“Is he asleep?” he whispered as he nearly tip-toed over to his mate and son. Thea shook her head.

“He likes both his parents to be under the same roof before he can sleep for the night,” she reasoned as her lips welcomed his kiss. His hand gently rested over hers where it was rubbing gentle circles onto Jace’s back. The combined warmth of his parent’s touch and the love they projected began to droop his eyes into sleep. 

“Let me get him settled, my love, while you steal however much of the blanket you wish for the night.” Thea scoffed as she gently transferred the babe to the crook of Cassian’s elbow. 

“I don’t steal anything. I just use the half that I am naturally entitled to.” She loved nothing more than burrowing into bed under a pile of blankets. More than once Cassian had come home late to nothing more than the top of her head poking out from underneath. “Everything was okay at the camps today?” He had wanted to delay his inspection of the war bands until everything with Jace was in its routine and Thea was back to full health. But Az had relayed to him an increase in discontented rumblings and Rhys hadn’t stopped him. He knew they had held the information back as long as possible to ensure Cassian’s presence for the birth of his son and for as many days after as possible. For them to be breaking the spell of eternal love and happiness he’d been living under, he knew it had to be bad.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He kissed his son’s head and smiled as his tiny wings twitched. Cassian would do whatever it took to earn his son’s pride in being Illyrian. Jace would learn of his parent’s past; the loss of his mother’s wings, the loss of his grandmother, the way his father fought and clawed for every scrap he ever had. But he would fight with that same tenacity to right the wrongs of their culture. So his son could stand proud amongst his people one day. And lay claim to them in a way Cassian always had but they had never accepted him for. 

“I love you, Cass. No matter what.” No matter what you have to do to keep our son safe. No matter what this world might make you become. Because no matter what, I know exactly who you are to me. To our son. My mate. My husband. The father of my child. A good friend and an even better brother. 

“You are my everything, Thea. I love you endlessly,” he answered out loud.

“That’s good. Our lifespan together is projected to be quite long,” she offered as he followed her back into their bedroom. “I’d hate for it to be miserable for you.” She climbed into bed and watched Cassian gingerly place their son in his cradle, a kiss to his fingertips pressed gently against the babe’s skin before he began the process of removing his leathers.

“Impossible for me to be miserable when I’ve got you two waiting for me.” He stripped bare, Thea wishing the ache between her legs was something other than the painful reminder of birthing a babe with wings, and walked to her side for a quick kiss. “A quick dip with some soap and I’ll be back.” She nodded and admired his backside before the door to the bathroom shut so the light and sounds wouldn’t disturb Jace. 

When Cassian emerged only a few moments later, there was no blanket on his half of the bed. And only a pair of eyebrows and a forehead could be seen under the mound of fleece. 

He smiled. Nothing could make him happier.

@cassianappreciationweek

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 19

Chapter 19 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Buck and Eddie hover as Chris hangs out with the 118 then Maddie, having promised to not mention papi, but still a kid. Meanwhile Maddie is planning to start living for herself and solving a problem for them.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slow burn)

Warnings: referenced domestic violence, ableism mention, internalized misogyny, insecurity

~~~

Chapter 19: Building a Life for Yourself

If everyone knowing about Chris feels weird, seeing everyone interact with him is even weirder. He doesn’t know how they know, but they’re all awaiting them when they arrive, looking curious and eager to meet Chris.

Eddie feels a little nervous as he walks in behind him, unsure if Chris can keep his promise not to say and if the others will react okay to Chris. They’ve been nice to him about Chris so far and they deal with disabled people a lot in their line of work and he’s never seen them be anything but compassionate and normal, but the anxiety lingers anyway.

It is assuaged slightly by Buck, who seems relaxed under these circumstances, loudly greeting everyone with: “We come bearing bribery coffee.”

“I would say who cares about coffee when you’re bringing such an esteemed guest, but I really need my caffeine fix,” Hen jokes, a big gentle smile on her face.

Eddie smiles slightly at that as well, waiting for Buck to make a joke about Chris being way more important than some coffee and more than enough of a fix to get you through the day. He is surprised when it doesn’t come, before he realizes that it isn’t Buck’s place right now and instead it’s his job.

“Hey, Chris is way better than coffee,” he tries clumsily, wanting to disappear the second he does it, which is only somewhat mitigated bit by Buck’s grin and Chris’s beaming smile.

“I believe you,” Hen says, before turning to Chris and holding out her hand: “Hi, I’m Hen. I heard a lot about you, you’re a real smart kid.”

“Hello, I’m Christopher,” Chris says shaking her hand. “You’re really cool, daddy says so.”

“Oh I like him,” Hen tells Eddie, twinkle in her eye.

“Hey, what about me. I’m cool,” Chimney butts in immediately, also holding out his hand. “I’m Chimney.”

“Chimney! I know you. You have a silly name,” Chris informs him seriously, getting laughs from everyone.

Eddie lets out a relieved breath as Chris keeps his promise to them and is accepted by everyone without question and with a lot of love. These people don’t seem to think badly of him for needing to have Chris here for a bit. They don’t seem to think he’s ruining Chris’s life. They’re just happy to meet Chris and get to know him. It would choke him up, if that were a thing he did.

Buck must catch something in his face, because he squeezes his shoulder in a comforting manner, before joining the others in going up the stairs.

Chris seems to be determined to do it alone and Eddie waits for the inevitable moment that someone will jog ahead or sigh in annoyance or offer help in that tone. But it never comes. They just walk with him as they talk, asking him about school and talking about the trucks and the ambulances when he asks.

Much like Eddie, Chris is easily absorbed into the 118 and he finds himself on the couch with the three others and Chris, laughing like it’s something they’ve always done. As if Eddie hasn’t known these people for almost three months, but for much longer than that.

It feels good. So incredibly good. It reminds him a bit of showing up frantically to the Johnson farm only to be met with understanding as Buck got him to laugh about Chris accidentally repeating ‘fucking’ before they hid out among the chickens so Eddie could talk about Shannon leaving and organize his thoughts. That quiet acceptance and space and understanding, the kind that makes a bad situation okay again.

He flies high, so his stomach sinks heavily when Bobby comes up to everyone, saying: “What’s this? I don’t remember asking the chief for reinforcements. You any good with a hose, kid?”

“I can try,” Chris smiles and everyone chuckles.

“Alright,” Bobby smiles back, because Chris’s smile is infectious. He got that from Shannon.

It’s a joke. Eddie knows it’s a joke and a joke means they’re probably okay, but he panics anyway, scrambling to his feet as he explains: “So sorry, Cap. Pepa, my tía is taking him tonight, but Maddie’s getting off work early so she can take him before that, but you know LA traffic, so until then w- I- I didn’t know where to take him.”

“Yeah, you did,” Bobby says, making Eddie confused, before his chest explodes with warmth at the follow up. “Right here. Buck gave me a heads up,” he nods to Buck, who gives him a smile, probably called while waiting for coffee. “I already cleared it with the chief.”

Eddie is at a loss for words. He wants to cry a little, but also grin brightly. He has no clue what to do with his face or his hands and he knows he needs to figure it out quickly, before it gets uncomfortable.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure out shit in the end, because the alarm starts ringing, so the moment gets ruined.

They all get up to run to the fire engines as they’re informed of what’s happening. Both Buck and Eddie are working, but he doesn’t just want to leave Chris. So, he stands there near the couch, trying to figure out what to do.

He sees Buck tell Bobby something as he jogs past to the pole and Bobby looks back at him, calling out: “Come on, Diaz. Bring the kid.”

“You wanna ride in the truck?” he asks Chris, who nods excitedly. “Alright, we need to hurry, so I’m giving you a ride.”

Chris is already reaching out, before Eddie is even done speaking and together they hurry down the steps. Eddie hands Chris over to Buck without thinking so he can get into his turnout gear. He is glad when no one questions that.

On the drive over to the accident, which is nothing big or too traumatizing for Chris, Hen and Chimney entertain him. While they’re working, Bobby takes Chris easily, telling him all about what’s happening and feeding his ever growing curiosity, which he definitely gets from Buck.

It’s nice how they all step in to make Chris comfortable, to accommodate for Eddie’s job, while not making him feel helpless and in need of their help. It’s a lot like hanging out with Abuela felt to him when he was a kid.

When they return from the call it’s to a message from Maddie saying she’ll be a little later due to traffic.

The news makes Eddie slightly anxious again, because the longer this goes on, the easier it can go wrong. It seems like Buck isn’t the only person on the team in tune with his emotions, because once he’s shared the news, Chimney says: “Well, Chris, seems like there is enough time for me to show you the pinball machine we have. Think you can beat your dad’s record?”

And with Chris’s enthusiasm and Eddie’s nod, Chimney leads Chris away so they can play pinball while Eddie gathers himself a bit.

“You okay?” Buck asks once it’s just the two of them downstairs.

“Yeah, just stressed,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I think I’ll only relax once Chris is safe with Maddie and none of this has blown up in our faces.”

“Same,” Buck snorts, though there isn’t much humor in it.

Shame creeps up Eddie’s spine once more as he realizes this is all stressful for Buck too and he hasn’t been there for him at all, drowning in his own anxiety instead. It’s not like him. He’s supposed to be the steady protector, not the emotional one. “Are, uh- are you okay?”

“Hm?” Buck looks at him in surprise, before the question registers and he smiles tiredly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just weird. You know. To not know him.”

And Eddie gets it. He remembers how weird it was to not know Chris that after that second tour when he came home, even if he hadn’t actually been in Chris’s life for years at that point. Buck has been consistently in his life since the kid was three years old, Eddie can’t imagine how much worse it might be for him, especially because he knows Buck worries about belonging.

He places a hand on Buck’s shoulder, hand automatically finding the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “You still know him and he knows you too. When you come home tonight, that kid is going to bombard you with questions that Hen and Chim didn’t answer to his satisfaction, because you gave him incredibly high standards when it comes to getting answers.”

At that Buck’s smile becomes more real. “Thanks, man.”

“Course.”

With that established they break apart to go restock and clean, which is their duty for today. They work in tandem yet separate, somehow both thinking that being seen together will make what they’re trying to keep hidden visible.

Because they’re busy downstairs and walking around, they miss Maddie coming in. Instead, finding her chatting with Chimney at the pinball machine as Chris is smashing the buttons with glee.

Maddie and Chim both look caught when they spot Eddie coming up the stairs, Buck right behind him. Maddia tucks her hair behind her ear and says: “Oh, we were about to find you. I didn’t just want to take Chris without giving him a chance to say goodbye.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie assures her with a smile, wanting to make her as comfortable as possible, both after what she’s been through and what she’s doing for him. “Are you sure you’re okay with taking him?”

“Of course, it’s no problem at all,” Maddie tells him with a kind smile. If Eddie hadn’t heard about her parents, he’d say kindness and helpfulness must be a Buckley trait.

“Still, it’s really appreciated.”

“And it’s really not a problem. If Abuela needs any help after coming home from the hospital I’m always here and happy to help. It’ll only be repaying the favor.”

“There is no favor that needs repaying, Abuela would scold me if she heard me letting you say that,” Eddie says. “She’s probably moving back to Texas. We already can’t find someone to look after Chris, it’ll be easier for her to be closer to more family with less busy schedules. But thank you, truly.”

Something flashes in Maddie’s eyes that Eddie vaguely knows from Buck’s face, but he can’t place it on hers quite yet, only that she has decided something. However, she doesn’t say and he doesn’t push, instead she smiles: “Well, I don’t mind hanging out with this little man here,” as she ruffles Chris’s hair.

Chris is done with his game and looks up at her with a big smile as he greets her. He already knows her from the time he spends at Abuela’s house. Eddie is glad he won’t be leaving him with a stranger.

Buck has gathered Chris’s crutches and joins them as Chris gears up to leave with Maddie. Before he goes, Eddie looks Chris in the eyes, cupping his cheek. He can’t help but smile, always feeling at ease when he has his son right there, safe and well. But that’s not the point right now. “You be good for tía Maddie, okay, mijo?” he tells Chris.

Maddie’s eyes widen slightly and Eddie half regrets the bold move made to indirectly include Buck, but he’s not regretting it entirely either with the way Buck’s eyes sparkle as Chris nods.

She leaves with Chris next to her, Buck giving him a quick ruffle of his hair, obviously dying to say something, but staying quiet. The others just waving and calling out their goodbyes.

Eddie stays standing there at the edge of the balcony until Maddie and Chris have left the firehouse, aware that Buck and Bobby are both behind him. Probably hovering for different reasons.

Once they’re gone, he turns back. Bobby gives him a gentle smile and says: “You have a good kid, Eddie. He was a pleasure to have in this firehouse and he is always welcome here.”

Emotion overwhelms him and it needs to get out. In an out of character moment, he hugs Bobby tightly, hoping it will convey the sheer thankfulness he feels in that moment. How grateful he is to have this acceptance, this help that doesn’t feel like help.

Then in further boldness, he lets go of Bobby and hugs Buck too. They’ve never been huggers before, not really. Often living more alongside each other than with each other, but in recent months they’ve become more tactile and right now Eddie might need the hug as badly as Buck does. If he thinks it’s weird, he doesn’t say, just hugs back.

When he lets go of Buck, he suddenly feels awkward about his outburst. Today has had him thrown off since he got that call, maybe even since he was flirted with so bluntly. He doesn’t know what to do with himself and is grateful when the alarm rings again so he can go.

No one mentions the hugs after and the day continues as normal. He gets a text from Maddie – who got his number through Buck – that Chris has been handed over to Pepa without any trouble and then in the morning he gets a text from tía Pepa that Chris has been dropped off at school.

They visit Abuela when their shift is done, glad to find her awake and in relatively good spirits after what happened to her. She has already charmed the hospital staff and befriended the other woman that she’s sharing her room with.

After their visit, the two split up. Eddie drives home, collapsing on his bed to nap for an hour, before he has to go pick up Chris. He normally has longer to sleep, but their last call ran over.

Buck, meanwhile, is driving to Abuela’s house to check up on Maddie. He is still kind of processing yesterday and just wants to see his sister for a bit. Eddie doesn’t seem mad at him anymore about the whole PT thing, even calling Maddie Chris’s tía and hugging him, but those few moments where it seemed he ruined everything still make his heart stop.

Not to mention how heart wrenching it was not to be able to be there for Chris like he wanted. Not being able to scoop him up in his arms and tell him all about their gear. Not being able to brag to the others about how he had the best kid. Not being his papi.

Having experienced that, he can totally see why Eddie would be mad at him, but he isn’t, not as far as Buck can tell anyway, which truly is a miracle in and of itself.

Maddie opens the door after a quick knock and Buck reminds himself to not be as familiar in this house as he actually is when she ushers him inside after a greeting.

“So, tía Maddie, huh?” he asks, maybe a little too eager, but needing to know what she thinks of the title and of Chris. Wanting a bit of validation after everything.

“Yeah,” Maddie blushes. “It feels like I’m overstepping, but it has to be fine, right? Eddie said it first, Chris is just following his dad.”

“It’s totally fine,” Buck assures her. “Did he behave?”

“Chris? Yeah, he’s a sweet kid. Very smart and funny in a kid kind of way,” Maddie smiles.

Buck feels his chest puff up with pride, even though that is mostly just Chris being awesome. It always feels a bit weird to claim credit for that – even if the jokes he taught Chris are hilarious no matter what Eddie says.

“Did Eddie or Pepa explain what’s happening with the child care situation to you?” Maddie asks. “I mean, Eddie mentioned something about not being able to find anyone, but there are programs.”

A warmth spreads through his chest at that. His sister is still here trying to help him, even if she doesn’t know. And helping Eddie. It’s nice to still see the bits of her he used to know, to have that familiarity.

“Eddie’s working on it,” he answers keeping it at a distance from himself, while outing his own frustrations with it all. “He's got insurance. And there’s other stuff through the city, state and county, but the requirements are all different. You can apply for one, and it can disqualify you from another. It’s a whole, giant bureaucratic mess. I-I can’t get my head around it.”

She leads him to the couch and grabs her laptop as she says: “Well, I was a nurse, remember? The only people who truly navigate a bureaucracy are the people who work inside it. So, I got some recommendations, but I feel weird about texting them to Eddie.”

“You can send them to me,” Buck immediately offers. “I can bring them up instead. We’re pretty friendly.”

“Really? Thank you,” Maddie says.

“Course, no problem.”

She taps away on her laptop and Buck gets a notification on his phone. Then she opens something different on her laptop and says: “I also have some news. I found an apartment. It’s not far from work. Two bedrooms, secure building, parking included.”

“You’re moving out?” Buck frowns. “You can stay here for longer, Abuela wouldn’t mind you being here while she moves out back to Texas.”

“I don’t want to be more of a bother when she’s already done so much for me. And you can’t just offer that for other people. Besides, I was never planning on living here forever,” she says.

Buck isn’t entirely convinced she isn’t just doing this to make herself small and it must show on his face, because she goes on. “Look, when I left Doug, I didn’t have a plan. I just grabbed up all my stuff and ran as fast and as far as I possibly could, but then you convinced me to start over, make a brand new life in LA.”

“And I was right about that,” he quickly points out, suddenly scared this apartment she found is in a different city and she’s leaving again.

“You were,” she rolls her eyes fondly, luckily. “But it’s just not gonna feel like mine unless I’m standing on my own two feet. That’s the only way I’m gonna know it’s real.”

“Alright. Okay. Yeah, no, I get that,” Buck says, even though it feels like he’ll be a horrible brother if he lets her out of the circle of carefully vetted people she’s been staying in. He hadn’t been there to protect her the first time around, he needs to protect her now. But she needs this, so he merely says: “Show me the apartment you found.”

They end up catching up for hours and he has to text Eddie he’s not making dinner tonight and to not burn the house down while he’s gone. Eddie sends two thumbs up back, because he is an old man, then a middle finger, because he’s a bitch. Buck loves him dearly and he hates that his heart does a little flip over the stupid emojis.

He is home in time to tuck Chris in, not telling him a bedtime story, but answering all his questions and telling him more about the firehouse, much like Eddie had predicted.

When Chris is fast asleep, Buck joins Eddie on the couch where he’s watching a telenovella he claims to only watch so he has something to talk about with Abuela and tía Pepa. Buck doesn’t call him out for it tonight, instead excitedly sharing the links Maddie shared with him. The top one had apparently been shared with her by a coworker, who heard about Carla through another coworker who had left, so they had a character reference for her.

The worries about Maddie moving out forgotten for a bit as they focus on getting a meeting of sorts set up with this Carla, hoping she can be their savior.

However, they’re back in full force the next day when they’re on the job. He doesn’t want to add to Eddie’s worries, so instead he unloads on Bobby. “The only way she knows it’s real is for her to live in a two-bedroom apartment in Eagle Rock. What does that even mean?”

“I think it means she’s not comfortable squatting in an injured, elderly woman’s place, who is a stranger to her.”

“Abuela is not a stranger. She’s Eddie’s grandmother,” Buck protests. Bobby gives him a look that makes Buck want to defend himself in ways he can’t, because then he needs to explain why that makes total sense. Both Maddie and Abuela are family.

“I just feel like it’s all happening too fast. I mean, how many years did it take her before she was ready to leave Doug?” Buck says.

“That hardly feels like the same thing.”

“My point is she just got here and now she’s leaving again.”

“Buck, she’s moving to Eagle Rock, not Alaska. It’s ten minutes from Eddie’s grandmother’s place, you live near there too, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but she’ll be in a place I don’t know. What if her neighbors are horrible? What if she feels alone with no one else living with her?”

“Your sister is building a new life for herself. Be proud of her,” Bobby tells him and he has a point, which Buck hates.

He also hates it when he later tells Eddie all about it anyway, because he is practically incapable of not sharing things and hopes Eddie might have a different reaction, since he also has sisters. However, Eddie, the traitor, agrees with Bobby and thinks Buck should let Maddie built her own life.

They’re annoyingly correct, but he makes his peace with it. Because he is proud of her, despite his protective instincts going haywire. He just wants her to be okay and he knows this is the best way to have her be okay, but it feels wrong anyway.

Still, he supports her regardless, because that’s what she needs from him and he’ll always try to give her what she needs. Especially when she does the same.

The meeting they have with Carla is a huge success. She is kind and fun and non-judgmental. She even takes their explanation about their platonic marriage that is a secret at work with a minimal amount of blinking.

All in all, she is a great fit and a big help in getting through the bureaucratic nightmare to ensure they can actually employ her without going bankrupt. Chris loves her immediately and she is charmed by Chris too.

It’s a heavy weight of off both their shoulders, but especially Eddie’s. Buck can see how he moves differently, as if he actually feels physically lighter. It breaks his heart a little, but also makes him so glad that they were able to organize this, that he has helped in lightening Eddie’s burdens.

When they tell tía Pepa about it, she makes them tamales as celebration and they take them to the hospital to share with Abuela, who is glad to get some real food.

A week later, he finds himself on the couch in the loft with Chimney looking over security systems for Maddie. He apparently knows about them, since he tried to be an entrepreneur before and Buck can use all the assurance he can get.

He still doesn’t feel great about Maddie moving out of Abuela’s house, even if he understands her wanting to have her own place. One that is wholly her own.

But if he wants to be able to have any sort of peace of mind when she does live on her own, he’ll need to get her the best security system. Hence recruiting Chimney. Though, he seems not that unhappy about being recruited into Buck’s protective spiral, even inviting himself to help her move since apparently they struck up a conversation and he thought she was nice.

When he asks Maddie later if it’s okay, she smiles and tells him she’ll text him thanks, since she gave him her number apparently, something Buck is trying not to think about too much.

She is building a life for herself, he should let her, he reminds himself.

Not that that is going to stop him from keeping an eye on Chimney. No matter how much he loves the guy, it’s different when he thinks he has a chance to his sister’s heart. He learned his lesson about not being too careful.

It’s not that he thinks Chimney will be a Doug 2.0, he just has to focus his protective instinct elsewhere now that he doesn’t have Abuela to keep an eye on her 24/7. Not to mention that he got to witness the disaster that was Chim’s relationship with Tatiana.

He’s just playing it safe, nothing else. Everything seems to be going well for them recently, it’s natural to be suspicious of that, he reasons.

~~

A/N:

I keep trying to not let this fic get out of hand, yet here I am, spending two chapters on one episode, so that’s not working out well for me lmao xp

Also, for the sake of this fanfic’s plot, I request you all do not think too closely about the time Maddie spend with Chris after picking him up from the 118 firehouse, please and thank you <3

[immortalmsmoon]

hiii<3333 love ur work especially ur persona 5 works hope your request box is still open <33

can i request how akechi wedding would be and how domestic life will be ?

hope u have a great day (and happy late new years!!!!)

Domestic Life With Akechi

Goro Akechi

A/N: Guys I'm back?? sorry i was gone so long!!! finally have motivation to write again. Thank you so much for the request!

Warnings: FLUFFFFF

Wordcount: 497

definitely proposed to you, and refused to have it any other way. he had a plan, and their was no way he was doing anything else

it was really sweet honestly...so much bad stuff has happened in his life, he's ready for a break

made sure everything was perfect, and of course it was

probably took you to a flower field or somewhere the two of you could have some privacy

he's so used to having people fangirl over him, and sometimes he doesn't mind, but this is one of the few exceptions where he doesn't want anyone to interfere, or see it happen, really. he knew you'd probably like the privacy as well

not very awkward before and whilst proposing, but very much so afterwards. happy, but awkward nonetheless.

one of few times he actually gets flustered. he prepares this cute little speech, and he's not used to expressing that much emotion.

when you guys finally get married he is honestly so excited. he may not show it that much, but he really is.

again, everything is perfect. he's very organized about all of this.

also again, a cute private venue is where you get married. probably in a field with one of those white arch thingy's above you. a couple of your friends, your family, and maybe one or two of his friends. Akira probably end's up being best man, unless you have someone in mind.

you guys have a quiet but fun wedding, dance a bit, you know, the works.

he's not super romantic until you guys have some privacy, aka after the wedding.

he's uncharacteristically romantic, mainly because he never really saw a day like this coming, and he is truly so happy and lucky to have a s/o like you.

very sweet and kind of clingy. makes you food, and the two of you have a nice romantic night, ending it off with a nice bath.

now, when it comes to domesticity, its a lot of small stuff.

again, Akechi's not big on being physically affectionate, or even verbally. he usually shows you in acts, big or small.

he likes to make you breakfast when he doesn't have work, and prepare bath's for you after long days.

sometimes he'll pick up some stuff he knew you wanted or needed from the store and nonchalantly leave them on the counter for you.

does a lot of chores, and the two of you kind of have a little schedule for who does what and when.

also shows his love in the moments that the two of you have together.

he's pretty busy, but he always makes time to spend with you.

all of his dates are memorable or meaningful somehow, even if its just a visit to the jazz club. you always end up with a couple polaroid pictures or some little knickknack that the two of you picked up on your journey.

domestic live with Akechi is really calm and nice, and rarely is there many problems between the two of you.

[boxofthings]

Ayo @rodolfoparra suggested GhostRoach post-military domestic fluff wayyy back and this has been sitting in my draft for AGES cuz I forgot about it I'm so sorry :')

Read on AO3

---

The bed he sleeps in is warm, a gentle material that feels like it engulfs his body in a soft, sinking embrace. When he opens his eyes, rays of sunlight drape over his body in cozy stripes, over his sheets and throughout the room. It's quiet, and the other side of the bed is empty, sheets messily rumpled without a care.

When he gets off the bed, he allows himself a few moments to breathe, stretch and slowly allow wakefulness to flood through his eyelids and into his brain.

There's noise in the kitchen, and without a second thought, he lazily shuffles towards it.

There's no sense of urgency in his bones.

He turns the corner and is met with the back of his partner at the stove. A smile pulls at his face.

Gary does not turn around at the sound of his footsteps.

There are eggshells on the counter and two plates next to them. The pan sizzles with the enticing scent of eggs and bacon.

He approaches his lover and hooks his arms from behind in a gentle hold that makes the other huff a lighthearted laugh.

When Gary turns around, his eyes are bright and dopey as he signs a soft "Good morning, love."

The kiss that comes after is sweet and slow. He wants to savour it all, even if he's done this thousands of times, every day, every time they're together. He'll always await the next thousands that will come after.

He can't stop the smile that stretches onto his face as he sinks himself deeper into Gary's warmth.

"I love you," he says. And it's easy and familiar, words that have practically become embossed on his tongue.

It's a Monday morning. The sun spills through the early skies and onto the living room floors, lighting their home in a soft glow.

When Simon sits at the table across from Gary, peeling fruit, knowing that it will be his most bothersome task today, he feels content.

He hasn't flinched in years.

In the back of their closet lies the masks they'd long discarded and have eons ago become distant memories.

He hasn't been "Ghost" in years, nor Gary "Roach."

They'll lounge on the living room couch once they've finished their meal, and with Gary's head relaxed over his lap, Simon will think about how peace is real because he hasn't felt fear in years, and his fingers have long outgrown their itch for a weapon. And he also knows this because when he looks into his lover's eyes, he feels only happiness

There are still bad days, of course. No one lives through the horrors they've been through and leaves it all behind unscathed.

Sometimes, he wakes up with the faint taste of gasoline at the back of his throat, and all of a sudden, he's back on the battlefield, thrashing around, desperate for an escape from the fire on the skin.

But Gary's with him, and he holds onto Simon until the nightmares retreat into the back of his mind. Simon will do the same for him–every time.

He'll endure those nightmares many more if it means he gets to keep this life.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

There's an almost amused grin on Gary's face, and Simon supposes he must look a tad funny, staring so lost in thought while peeling an orange. His rough, callused hands that have previously only been used to kill now handle fruit and vegetables with a gentle care, and strangely enough, it just feels right.

"Just lamenting, love."

Gary's smile takes on a softer look, reminiscent, and he reaches a hand across the table to link with Simon's. "Despite everything that's happened, I'd do it all again," he signs.

The fear, the chaos and violence, the betrayal and gunshots, the fire–all that pain condensed into two people who found each other at the centre of everything wrong with the world. Simon would do it all again as well if it meant he'd have Gary at his side.

Instead of responding, Simon stands up, dropping the orange on the table and walking over to Gary's side. Keeping their hands intertwined, Simon pulls the other up, bringing his other hand to gently card through Gary's hair as he pushes their lips together for what will definitely not be the last time that day.

When they break apart, Simon can't help but stare into loving, green eyes. He would joke that Gary looks like a lovestruck fool, but he suspects he looks much the same.

This life that they've built for themselves had felt so unreachable years back. The Simon back then, with his ever-growing crushing weight of anger and fear that seemed to consume his entire world, would've never fathomed that he could've become someone like this–normal.

Later, they'll go to the town market for groceries and maybe have mediocre burgers at the nearby diner. They'll return home and lounge on the couch watching cliché chick flicks and unrealistic action movies. Tomorrow they'll visit MacTavish and Price and laugh over shitty beers together at the local pub.

They'll do normal, boring people things in their normal, boring people house, living their normal, boring people lives.

Simon wouldn't have it any other way.

He's happy.

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: @dirtwatchman and @nightmaretist TIME: First week of May WHERE: Dance Macabre SUMMARY:  Two undead meet up for a drink that was owed months ago. The night gets interesting for Caleb and Inge as they both start to realize what the other is. WARNINGS: Eludes to domestic abuse at times

Clubs weren’t his usual scene. Caleb much preferred a quiet restaurant over the lively atmosphere of a dance bar but there were two things that had made him suggest Dance Macabre that night; the girl he’d promised a drink to was there when they’d started their conversation which meant he knew she liked it and the unusual presence he had started to feel around him was motivation to be in the middle of a ton of people. Something dark, almost sinister, was on his tail and he didn’t know why. It would come and go, the dark presence surrounding him one moment and then gone the next only for him to feel as if he were being watched again a day or two later. He just hoped that having more people around would deter whatever it was following him around from giving him the reason.

He sat at the bar, his own drink in front of him untouched while the weight of everything sat on his shoulders. People around him were laughing and having a good time, none of them paying attention to the anxious man in the corner as he waited for Inge. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice anything off about him either. There was no need to scare away a possible new friend before they’d even gotten the chance to talk.

When he looked up and saw her making her way through the crowd, he let the worry slip away and waved to her. Caleb’s smile was forced, barely lifting in the corners, but he’d managed one at least. “I didn’t know what you wanted so I went ahead and got my own. Feel free to choose whatever you like.” He had promised it for her birthday after all. “Happy Birthday…a few months late, that is.”

If this life was still to be called that – a life, despite the accusations of being a walking corpse – then Inge found only value in it if there was still spontaneity. Sometimes she was, as everyone, overrun with a desire to become something of a recluse. To be alone with her astral, her nightmares and her sculptures and nothing more. But she’d never done well with solitude and most importantly, she never felt dead until she gave into loneliness.

So even if she was in pain and angry, even if she felt something dark and ugly unfurl within herself, she went out. Dance Macabre was a favorite, as was the club in New York she astral projected to from time to time. She didn’t dance as fervently as she once had – her back and gut still aching – but she drank and she flirted and she talked. She went out to meet a stranger, because why not? Without spontaneity, she might as well be dead. Truly dead.

She approached the semi-stranger with a smile on her lips, sitting down next to him at the bar. “Why, thank you,” she said. Inge wondered – as she did with all patrons at this club – if he was undead or just simply willing to go to strange places. “Better late than never, right?” She gave a wink, leaned to the bartender to order herself a glass of white wine. “So when is your birthday? Maybe we can pre-celebrate that too, tonight.”

His eyes were on hers as she spoke but he looked away as she asked about his birthday. It was a day that he never really cared for but it had gotten so much worse after he’d died. Most of the time Caleb wouldn’t even tell what day it was, finding ways to keep others out of the know so that they wouldn’t bother with it at all. It only brought back bad memories of the past and dread for the future he now had. “It’s already passed as well. Guess it’s a late celebration for both of us.” Which wasn’t a lie. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice that he’d not said the date. He didn’t want that conversation.

So, maybe changing the subject was for the best. As he glanced around the club, he noticed that things were a little out of the ordinary. Or at least this place wasn’t what he imagined most clubs to be like. Strange dark red drinks were being served at another bar, what he assumed were fake fingers being given to a few people who actually looked familiar, and there were quite a few ghosts lingering around on the dance floor. Was it Halloween themed like Hallow’s Eats?

His gaze went back to Inge, confusion clear on his face. “Wait, what is this place? I didn’t take much of a look before you got here but it’s kind of strange.” She’d been the one who was here the night of her actual birthday and this was the perfect opportunity to change the subject so Caleb didn’t have to talk about his least favorite day of the year. “Are those…fingers? They don’t look gummy…”

He didn’t seem excited to speak about his birthday, which was often an indication of something. Inge wasn’t the type to pry into people’s sensitive and personal business, though, as she thought those things depressing and not her area of expertise. She went to places like these to indulge, not to therapize. So she paid it no mind. “A late celebration! Perfect. Better late than never.”

She gave the bartender a smile – glad that it wasn’t that Mack Ross girl who’d taken a bite out of her – when he handed her her drink and took a nice and hefty sip. Dance Macabre had a wide range of drinks, but they also just had good wine. They hadn’t found a way to liquidize nightmares and turn them into a product just yet. For the best, she figured. Commodifying something like that would be very depressing.

Caleb seemed unfamiliar with the club’s wide range. Inge blinked at him, innocuously. “Oh, it’s a little … avant garde, you know? Edgy.” She looked at the fingers. The human fingers. She didn’t often wish to be a different flavor of undead, but being able to munch on those while staring someone dead in the eye would be very amusing. “Attracts a certain kind of people. And those? Oh, yes. They’re fingers.” She smiled. “Look very real, don’t they?”

She seemed perfectly okay with dropping the subject in favor of the new one and for that Caleb was so grateful. There were a lot of nosy people around, it was nice to know she wasn’t one of them and in spite of the uncomfortable feeling of being watched he was starting to relax enough to enjoy this for the good time it should be. 

But then he kept staring at the fingers, one having been slid to someone closer to the two of them than the previous orders had. The zombie had seen enough detached fingers in his life to be able to tell if they were real or not and those were definitely real. Suddenly the night had brought on more mystery even if it made more sense that he recognized some of these people; they were clients, people that he fed regularly. Did he somehow stumble upon a zombie bar? How had Caleb never known this existed?

Oh, because he didn’t have fun.

Then his attention was turned back to Inge, wondering if she was the same as him or if she thought it all very niche. He glanced at her wine and then back to her eyes, deciding to go along with the charade just in case. “A little too real. It’s kind of disturbing.” But he was smiling into his drink as he lifted it to his lips. “Are you into that kind of thing? I feel like some of your paintings could indicate that you are but I don’t want to assume. Maybe you just like this place for the music.”

Though the imagery of eating another human was fascinating in a way – there was a reason shows and stories about cannibals took off – Inge was glad she could sate her cravings with nightmares. It was more refined. And if she wanted to she could gorge on a human being in a dream without all the mess anyway. (A part of her also appreciate that it didn’t require murder, but that was boring and moral.)

She was bemused by the other’s reaction, by the way he brought up her paintings as if they were any indication that she’d like to chew on severed fingers. She decided it was a compliment. Inge figured the other was human, or at least mortal — which was a little unfortunate, but did not mean this was to be a complete waste of her time.

“Oh, I’m not into munching on dead fingers. Alive ones, maybe,” she said, “But I have a few friends who like those along with their beers. You don’t?” She blinked at him as if she’d asked him what his friends did for work as she sipped her wine. “Maybe you should order one and see if it’s your kinda thing.”

He honestly wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not, the deadpanned way she’d mentioned liking her fingers live and well making him reconsider whether she was undead or not. Caleb was staring at her when she asked, his head starting to shake slowly once his brain had recovered from the short circuiting the reply had caused. Was she serious? “Not much for fingers myself, no.” He’d never liked the bony part that came with eating the human body and it was very hard to eat around them in a finger. 

Her suggestion to get one of his own was about to be denied until that unease came back to him from the shadows. It started to infiltrate his mind, push him towards agreeing, towards chaos. Again, he was afraid to say no. Something about this thing, whatever it was, was so menacing that even from the shadows it had a tight hold on him and Caleb found himself nodding slowly.

“But I guess it couldn’t hurt to see what the fuss is about. They look pretty popular.” It was a stupid decision and he knew it even as he placed the order with the bartender but defying this entity seemed stupider in the long run. What was he going to do though? Eat a real finger in front of someone who appeared, by all accounts, normal? Something told him yes. And he didn’t like it. 

“Not even for sucking one off?” Inge asked it innocuously once again. There wasn’t really any ulterior motive there — she wasn’t as interested in random hook ups any more, which was because of her newly gained scar and definitely not because she was hung up on some fae. But she was in a bar and she was flirty by nature because she could be and so she gave Caleb a small smirk. “Pity.”

She would understand it if he rejected her proposal. It was quite ludacris to order a decapitated finger if human beings weren’t part of your diet and even Inge wasn't particularly fond of holding the mushy things. They reminded her of knakworsten, dutch sausages that would snap when you broke them. Those were actually tasty, though she didn’t eat them any more because they contained too much salt for her to not feel a little sickened by them.

There was a stir in the shadows, but she didn’t think much of it. This was a club after all, with moving lights and strange dark corners. “Alright then,” she said, leaning forward towards the barkeep, “One of your fingers, please. A long one preferably.” As the employee busied herself with getting one of them, she eyed Caleb curiously. Was he just a human, doing something just for the heck of it, just to see if those were actual fingers? Or was he undead like her, aiming to get a snack without seeming too suspicious? “First time for everything, right?”

“Oh.” His eyebrows raised at the forward question, surprise shining through as he stumbled over it in his mind. He really hoped this hadn’t been what their interaction had been leading up to. Not that she wasn’t beautiful or fun or anything he just wasn’t available….maybe. Caleb still wasn’t clear on that part and was too anxious to bring it up with the one person he really needed to bring it up with. Still, looking back on it all, he might have misread the intentions with the back and forth on the internet. “That's uh….I'm not saying that I don't like that part.” He really should have kept his mouth shut. Not only was he stumbling in his mind but he was stumbling over his words now too. 

Thankfully he was saved by the arrival of the drink. Or was he burdened with it? It was hard to tell when he glanced over at her again, still not sure if she could tell this thing was real or not. It certainly was, that wasn’t the question. The question was if she would start screaming when she realized it was. The woman did seem to be taunting him as she ordered but he could already tell that was something she enjoyed no matter the situation. He cleared his throat and put his hand over the glass as if that would stop her from truly seeing his garnish but he made no moves to get rid of it. 

He hated fingers.

Smiling softly, Caleb shook his head. “A first time doesn’t mean a good time. Is it weird that I’m nervous about a strange gummy finger?” Was that even working? “What if I changed my mind…?” He trailed off as a grumble struck him deep in his mind. So much for that idea.

He was flustered. It was endearing. Inge chuckled a little and took a long sip from her drink, waving with her hand as if trying to wave away his nervousness. “I’m just teasing you,” she admitted. “Whatever you like you can keep to yourself.” She could push now, tell him that she’d looove to find out, but she wasn’t planning on making this ordeal painfully awkward. A little bit of discomfort was fine, though. That’s why they were ordering the finger.

She looked at the finger with mild interest, wondering where it had come from and how Dance Macabre sourced them. Was it from the young goths that wandered in here? Or were it other people that were dissected and put up for sale? There was something very morbid about it all, especially now that she had actually seen what it was like when someone’s toes were chopped off. A pathetic part of her hoped the people who had once owned these fingers had been dead after the separation.

Apparently Caleb was having some hesitation as well. Understandable, if he was a human. Inge shrugged. She pinched the finger. The sensation made her feel a little uncomfortable, which she hated. She did really have friends who ate these things, but that before Rhett’s toes. “Nope. It’s on my tap. I won’t see it go to waste. Eat up.” She took a hefty sip of her wine. She was glad, for once, that she didn’t have heightened senses. “Plenty of people here snack on ‘em.”

The zombie was glad that she wasn’t someone who was going to pick at the subject that clearly made Caleb uncomfortable. It wasn’t often that he came across people who would willingly give up the playful torture of intimate discussion, their curiosity and amusement taking precedence over another’s comfort in his experience. It made him like her that much more as he relaxed his shoulders, made him comfortable enough to throw a teasing remark back. “I have to keep my air or mystery, right?”

It wasn’t until she reached out to touch that very real body part sitting in his drink that the discomfort returned. She had to know that she’d just touched actual flesh and not the gelatin candy he had been trying to push it off as which made his own curiosity about what she knew, what she was, grow. He couldn’t refuse. She was right, she had ordered the drink herself and the people pleaser in him wouldn’t let that go. Not to mention the darkness that surrounded the two of them pushing for him to take the bite that he was so hesitant to take. He just didn’t know if it was wise to reveal this secret to her so shortly after they’d met. 

She had to know already if she was pushing for it, right? 

Caleb reached out and took the finger, biting into it the best he could around the bone. The bite only proved to him why he hated these things so much and made him wonder what the other zombies ordering these things were thinking. Placing the finger back, planning to munch on it sparingly for the rest of the night, he did feel a little satisfaction after he swallowed…whether that was because it satisfied a little hunger or the entity who had a grip on him was anyone’s guess. “Happy? Or do I have to finish the whole thing?” He was smiling but his eyes showed the nerves that were coursing through him now that he was pretty sure she knew what he was, awaiting her reaction with bated breath.

His air of mystery. Right. Inge thought the other looked quite unassuming and he would be plain if it wasn’t for some of his more striking features. Still, she didn’t quite think him very mysterious — aside from the entire debacle of whether he was undead or not. She had that kind of doubt about plenty of people, though. She indulged him, though, “Certainly, we don’t want to reveal too much too soon.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected from Caleb once faced with the finger. Hell, she hadn’t expected to be met with her own complicated feelings about the matter — but that was something that happened more and more these days. Surges of emotion, of nasty memories trickling in. She’d have to start singing a different tune in her nightmares, incorporate these thoughts of factory floors and being stuck on walls into the dreams she offered others so she could see the memories in a different context.

Maybe this would help, too. She watched Caleb take a bite and did not bother to hide her surprise when he swallowed. It wasn’t the kind of horror a human might feel at the sight of someone eating a finger, but it was still something. She took a sip of her drink, eyes wide and intrigued. “I mean, only if you’re hungry,” she said casually. “Do you do that often, Caleb? Eat human parts?” She glanced at the finger, seeing the bone protrude. It was a nasty sight, which was why she kept looking. Nightmares were really a more refined diet. “I know a few people who do. That, blood … dreams?” She took another sip. “How long ago did you die?” It was a gamble. But she tended to live on the edge, anyway.

There was a weight lifted from his shoulders. Her reaction, though surprised, was definitely not as bad as he’d been expecting but there was also something else that had been lifted. The air wasn’t as…heavy. That presence that Caleb had been feeling for the last couple of days wasn’t near anymore. It was as if her lack of screaming didn’t interest the menacing presence at all and it decided to move on. Was that all it had taken? To reveal what he was to someone who didn’t already know for it to leave him alone? 

No, that was too easy. It had to still be there somewhere. 

For now he would just focus on his companion though. There was no need in fretting over something that wasn’t there, not until it came back. He shook his head at her first comment, pushing the finger to the side onto a little napkin before pulling the rest of the drink closer. What exactly was it served in? “I’ve never really liked fingers much.” He pressed his lips together as he nodded at her question, eyes locked on the drink in front of him so he didn’t have to look at her. “But only as often as I have to.” He knew others who ate humans like it was their day job and, while he understood, he’d never been able to…overindulge. 

Caleb looked up at the dreams comment, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered who she knew. His concern for certain people in his life started to grow but he hoped he wouldn’t have to worry too much. With her reaction, she seemed used to this. “You mean nightmares?” He finally took a drink of whatever the finger had been served in, pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be an actual cocktail. “Just over six years. It’s been a bit of an adjustment. What about you? Are you in the same boat or do you just like hanging out at bars catered to the undead?”

So the truth was out, laid on the table amidst their drinks and the half-eaten finger. Inge felt a level of relief at the final revelation that Caleb was like her — a person who had died and transformed. Wicked’s Rest came with many disadvantages but this was something she liked about the place: it attracted the undead. And though that meant the town also attracted slayers and other dislikeable figures, it almost made it tolerable. It was just better, she found, to surround herself with people who did not age. 

She had figured out a while ago that there was to categorize the undead into two categories: those that abstained and those that indulged. She fell into the latter category, making an art of her nightmares and creating more than she strictly needed for survival. Plenty of others fell into the first category, though – only eating as often as they needed to, as Caleb put it. Inge couldn’t relate. She’d long ceased to feel guilt over the nightmares she spread around. Maybe it was different if your diet required human parts, though. (She thought of Rhett’s leg without wanting to.) “Fair enough. Fingers don’t seem especially nutritious.”

She nodded at his conclusion, “Yes, nightmares. That’s my diet.” It really was more refined than brains or blood, she thought. She looked the other up and down, figured that it made sense that he was still new to this. Inge chuckled. “So I’m like you. It’s been about half a century for me, now, since I died.” It felt wrong to put it like that. “And transformed, of course. It’s why I celebrated here, you know? Most mortals don’t understand — the complications of birthdays when you don’t physically age any more.”

“They aren’t.” It was said with a breath of laughter, Caleb finding it funny but at the same time feeling the weight of this conversation thick in the air. The fact that he knew that was horrifying in itself and every time he laid out the details of his diet, no matter how small, it felt like he was discovering the horrible reality of being a zombie again. It laid heavy on his chest, images of all the bodies he’d ransacked over the years flashing in his mind until the two faces of the people that died by his own hand popped up. They were always side by side, their features locked in the horror they had felt during their final moments. He ground his teeth together as he tried to push those images away and focus on her.

But he did finish the drink in hand before he spoke again, the glass tipping up with a clink as he gulped it down. Not that it would do much good unless this bar had ways of making their drinks stronger for the dead as well. “So you’re a mare then.” It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that at least she only caused fear and it didn’t always result in death but he also knew that didn’t matter. Mayhem came with both of their diets, his just came with the physical whereas hers was more phycological. Both ways did their own catastrophic damage. 

“Transformed?” That was an interesting way to put things. The word could hold different meanings in this context but he got the feeling that Inge wasn’t ashamed of what she was or how she had to survive and that definitely piqued his interest. Not to mention how long she’d had to live this way. “I can’t even imagine being alive that long. Somehow I still think my body will find a way to give in to nature even though I’ve lived through things I shouldn’t have at this point. Are you-” He wasn’t quite sure how to pose this question so he continued the only way he could think of. “Are you happy?”

How had she even felt, six years into her transformation? Inge struggled to recall it — but time played a trick on her memory. It was back in Amsterdam, when Vera had been a teenager and she’d still been trying to figure out how to exist as a mare, as a sleepless creature of the night. She’d felt shame then, she must have … but she preferred not to think of it. Not of that, nor the time she lost, nor the child that was gone, nor her partner in all it. She was a woman of her own future, living in the twenty first century and proud. What she had been in the past was gone.

But she did recall it, the shame. How it had once been there, for the way she had to feed. How it had been replaced by her pride, now. She saw it in Ariadne, who had only been undead for a year or two. She saw it in Leila, who had centuries on her. She had even seen it in Richard, who was older than any other undead she had ever met. She felt bad for them all, these creatures like her who did not think of consumption as a form of self are. “Maybe we should find you something better to eat, then.”

She chuckled mildly. “It’s still perishable, but … not as easily maimed any more, is it? For you, at least.” Vampires and zombies had that advantage over her – their ability to heal with speed. Inge had to wait human weeks and months before pains left her body, before scars were formed. “I’m only in my seventies, Caleb. I’ve hardly outlived most humans.” His question was met with another sip of her drink, too heavy to answer without contemplating it over a sip of alcohol and a little bit of procrastination. “I am, most days. Happier than I ever was as a human.” She smiled. “Not always, but most of the time. Why?”

“I’m okay right now.” He gave her a smile, hoping that she wasn’t worried about the state of his…appetite. There was no need to be. Caleb liked to think he was responsible with his consumption even when his supply was still dwindling to a dangerously low point spurring him to work harder or cut some deals. Inge’s hesitation was understandable though. Not everyone was responsible with their diet, not everyone had the means to be. Which might be why he tried not to eye a random drunk man trying to sneak the tossed finger out of the napkin next to him. At least some poor dead souls digit wasn’t being wasted even if he still felt the need to give her the money for her purchase. 

His attention was back on her after the drunk zombie walked away giggling, clearly thinking he had gotten away with his heist. “Right. It’s wild to me that mares don’t heal the way we can even though we’re all…dead flesh. But at least you guys get to astral. That always sounded kind of cool to me.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, his smile started to fade quickly. “You’re right, it’s not that old. I guess I just…never thought I’d make it past my teens so the idea of getting that far in life is strange to me. Add to that people calling me old in my forties, it’s a little surreal.” Caleb didn’t miss the way she took a drink before answering him, the zombie taking that as a bad sign even as her words suggested otherwise. He couldn’t say for sure whether she was feigning happiness for his benefit or if she was even doing it for her own peace of mind but he understood that it wasn’t the whole truth. “I think I just wanted to know if I had something to look forward to. Everyone’s different, I know, but a little hope is nice.”

“Good,” she said, not bothering to press the subject any further. When another – presumed – zombie stepped by to snatch the finger, she did raise her eyebrows in amusement and a hint of judgment. The finger was part of her tab, after all — but if Caleb wasn’t going to finish it, then it might as well get eaten by someone else in need. Inge looked back to the sole member of her party, “Well, that’s one way to get by.” 

Her face split into a look of pride, if not something close to that happiness he’d been asking after. “Very true. I’m not sure if I’d swap it for quicker healing or higher tolerance for injury. It makes for a quick get away, too. And it is cool.” Yes, mares were truly the crème de la crème of undead. Except for the healing, of course. “Wish we’d just bleed regularly, though — it’d definitely make hospitals easier.”

The statement was said so plainly, as if it wasn’t a devastating thing in and of itself. If Inge was a more compassionate woman, if she was more sentimental, she might have searched further. “Well, here you are … You might push past two hundred.” Though not all undead made it that far, especially not in a town such as this. Slayers liked to shorten lifespans, even before they’d lived a full human year. “Of course you do!” She sounded more convinced now, because it was certainly easier to speak of the future as something promising than it was to speak of her current happiness or lack thereof. “There is so much to live for. You will look like this forever — and it’s not a bad look to have!” He was handsome, and no lines marred his face. No gray hair in sight, either. “The world is your oyster, Caleb — that much is true for each and everyone of us.” And with us, she meant her fellow undead. Not humans. “Come, let’s have another drink. Fingerless, this time. And we’ll toast to those oncoming years.”

There was a brief moment where Caleb considered asking the zombie if he needed a steadier supply for his diet but he figured this was supposed to be a fun night out so he let it go. He did have a new place to network though. Now if only he could figure out his supply shortage. “Not the smartest way but as long as he’s not rampaging…” Another reason to ask the man, Caleb wanting to make sure that he could prevent that as much as possible. 

Again, this was supposed to be fun, so he tucked those thoughts away in the back of his mind along with the shadows that were stalking him before. Smiling at how much she actually enjoyed the aspects of her���situation, the zombie wasn’t sure whether he wasn’t to argue with it or not. Healing came in handy, especially when the weird stuff really started going down. Volmugger acid most likely would have taken him out if it hadn’t been for his ability to eat a brain and be brand new again. But he had always thought the astral projection was cool, ever since he’d found out about it from Aria. “Not a believer in the grass being greener in someone else’s world, I take it.” It was a statement more than a question since Caleb was already sure he knew the answer to that one.

Inge’s confidence was admirable and he had to wonder why he always seemed drawn to people like that. There was always some kind of pull to them, some awe he held in their presence, because he knew he’d never be able to achieve that level of…well, loving himself. He was too damaged from years and years of being told he would never be good enough. “I hope not.” The statement was said under his breath, the idea of two hundred years on this earth harrowing. 

There was something about people who were confident; others would tend to believe anything they said. Inge spoke with such conviction that Caleb felt like there was no choice but to smile as he thought about what could be in the years to come. His life wasn’t that horrible at the moment, it was true, he just needed to learn how to navigate what he was with ways that made him comfortable. Six years wasn’t long enough to do that. It was what he thought about with new drinks in hand, the zombie tipping his glass to her as that familiar chill of being watched started to return. He would deal with that tomorrow, tonight he’d learn to let loose with a new friend and see where life took him.

“To the world being our oyster.”

[gallawitchxx]

caught in the act by gallawitch | rated: M | 2K

Mickey's had a shitty day. The cure? A beer at home with his husband and their teenage kid. But he never expected that his daughter would have a house guest...

a sweet anon popped into my inbox asking "if [i] could write something about if maybe mick and ian had a daughter and one day they left her home alone and came back to her fooling around on the couch with a boy? or a girl." why they think i'm the person to write galladads, i'll never know... but i tried anon! i really tried! especially because my sweet precious goblin king nosho's (@creepkinginc) birthday prompts were: fluff with slice of life. SO. here are some fluffy dads! i love you nosho! i love you anon! xx

- - - - -

It's been a fucking shitty day.

Mickey throws open the front door with all of the force he can muster, ignoring the flare of pain in his bad shoulder. Stupid thing’s been acting up again since the weather’s turned cold. 

The metal of the doorknob cracks against the plaster of the wall in their entryway, and Ian winces. “Mick—“

“Not now, Ian,” Mickey barks. 

[ read the rest below the cut or here on ao3]

What he wants to say is, Fuck off, Gallagher, but they’ve spent over two decades together, and can at least be on a first name basis. Plus, he’s been trying to work on his reactions to things. Be less hot-headed and more thoughtful, or whatever the fuck. But he’s almost at the end of his rope, his fuse already lit and rapidly burning down thanks to a frustrating combination of idiot clients and useless new hires. 

It’s days like today that have him wondering why exactly he thought he wanted to run a business. Be somebody’s boss. Be responsible for keeping the lights on and the customers happy. Even though he's been doing this for years, he can't help but think that it was a lot easier when he was running drugs and whores.

Louder, though, and he's become accustomed to the quiet.

He needs a fucking beer. 

Two maybe, he thinks as he toes off his boots. Shoves them in his designated cubby in the hall closet like the little domestic bitch he is. Even steps out of the way so that Ian can come up beside him and drop his own shoes off. 

Mickey’s not mad at him. No reason to be, they don't even work together anymore. Haven't in years. But Ian'd offered to pick him up after his shift at the new hospital downtown, and he'd stepped right into the crosshairs of an already terrible mood. Mickey just needs a minute to unwind.

Before either of them can say anything further, a slight whimper, of all things, wafts towards them.

Mickey cranes his neck to see further into the house, his rage quickly finding a new target. He feels Ian’s chest close to his back, and lifts a finger to his lips.

Other sounds follow—a hitched breath, the shifting of bodies against the soft, leather of their new couch (a splurge purchase made when all kids and dogs had been sufficiently trained up and housebroken), a small, wet pop that makes Mickey's spine curl.

He catches Ian’s curious stare, their shoulders raising as they make their way to the living room. It all feels familiar, yet odd. Been a while since either of them had their shackles up. The Southside even feels somewhat safe these days, thanks to a new generation of kids and a bunch of gentrifying motherfuckers. 

So it comes as a surprise to see someone strange in their house, making slick noises on their furniture, sticking their tongue down their daughter’s—

“Oh, hell no! You gotta be shitting me!” Mickey yells, Ian right at his heels.

The kid leaps to his feet, his shoulder-length hair as disheveled as his button-down; his eyes and his boner bulging in tandem. He looks to Mickey, horror-stricken, then glances at Ian before looking down towards the girl on the couch: sixteen-year-old Josephine Gallagher-Milkovich, bright red hair sprawled out beneath her wide, green eyes.

“Hey Dad…” she says, shrugging just slightly.

Mickey’s blood boils. “Hey Dad?! Jo, what the fuck?”

She scrambles to sit up, grabbing the blanket at the end of the couch to cover herself, despite being fully clothed. 

Thank Christ.

“I think you should probably leave,” Ian chimes in, pulling Mickey’s attention back to the kid wilting silently to his left. “Door’s just that way.”

“That’s a good fucking idea,” Mickey yells. He takes a step forward and crosses his arms, settling into a wide stance. “Better yet, let’s make sure I never see you again. Got it, Pimple Puss?”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir,” the kid mumbles, shoving on his shoes at lightening speed. He stands, looking at them both. “Uh, Sirs.”

“Yeah, yeah, get the fuck outta here!” Mickey reiterates as the kid runs past him. Mickey swings back around towards his daughter, who has dared to stand up while his back was turned. “Not so fast! You better stay right where you are.”

She freezes, her eyes wandering to Ian. The door slams shut behind them, and he jumps a bit. Shrugs. Shakes off her stare. He wants to be the one to come through for her, soften the blow of what’s about to happen, but he can’t. His hands are tied. Instead, he reaches for Mickey’s wrist, turning him slightly. 

Warm green eyes catch his ice-cold stare.

“Mickey, think about this,” he whispers. His gaze is sweet, and he rubs a little circle with his thumb across Mickey’s pulse-point. It’s soothing, and it brings Mickey back into his body for a moment. Back to the present. Back from another day, in another house, when it was them getting caught. 

Fuck, he hadn’t visited that memory in a while. Didn’t even realize he’d slipped there now until Ian’s breath ghosted his temple, his words evoking yet another day with the same captor. The gun in his hand that time. His eyes wild. Mick, pause.

Mickey sniffs. Gives Ian a curt nod, sucking his lip between his teeth, and preparing to face his dumbass daughter again. “Give us a minute?”

Ian squeezes his wrist, “Course.”

Jo opens her mouth in protest, but closes it again off of Ian’s look. She’s sure he’ll have his own shit to say about the state she’s been discovered in—the rules, and the trust that she knows she’s broken—but that’s sure to be a calmer conversation. Less at stake, and everybody knows it.

“Gonna order us a pizza, I’m starving,” Ian calls behind him as he leaves his two most cherished people to hash it out.

It’s instantly uncomfortable. 

Jo picks at the skin on her lip, her ticks always more Mickey than Ian. Nurture kicking nature’s ass. But Mickey’s never been able to hold steady around a Gallagher pout, so when he finally exhales and meets her eyes, he knows he’s full of nothing but hot air.

"I ain't mad," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger–a move that absolutely doesn't say everything's cool.

"You're not?" Jo asks, her eyebrows crinkling.

He drops his hands and takes in her expression, now dancing between terrified and confused. Shakes his head and says, ”Course not. I was banging your pops all over this neighborhood way younger than you are now.”

"Ugh, Dad.”

Mickey chuckles, briefly lost again in different, more pleasant memories; of stock rooms and refrigerators. ”Got caught a lot, too.”

Jo’s shocked. ”You did?”

“‘Course we did. We were dumb fucking kids! Got caught by his pervert boss, by fucking Frank... Another time, too…” He shifts his weight, and thumbs at his nose. “Let's just say that if you're gonna follow in our footsteps and fuck around in the open, you're goddamn lucky that it's us walking in that door.”

Jo nods. She doesn’t know the ins and outs of her fathers’s lives before her. Neither of them have spilled all of their secrets, and some things might never be relayed. But she knows enough to know it was way different from how she's grown up, and she knows that she can always ask. They’ll be honest with her. They’ve made a point to share what’s important, and tell it to her straight. 

She’s a good kid. 

They raised her up pretty damn well, despite all of the fear, and the doubts.

Mickey clicks his teeth, making his way to sit beside her on the couch."A guy though? Really? I mean, I get it.” He pops her one on the shoulder, playfully. “But I was always kinda hoping you'd be smarter than me.”

Jo goes beet red, her arms folding cross her chest. "Uh, yeah, about that..." She takes a deep breath and says, “I’m… queer. I think. I like, uh, both. All? People. I like people.”

“Oh,” Mickey says, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“Yeah."

“Cool."

She squints at him. “Cool?”

"Never really liked anyone 'sides that alien-lookin' motherfucker listening in from the kitchen" – there's a rustling from the room in question as Ian backs away from the doorway – "But yeah, that's cool. Thanks for telling me.”

She nods. "Thanks for listening.”

"Look, I may not be the easiest to talk to or the most in touch with my feelings or whatever, but I'm always gonna listen." He puts a tattooed hand on her knee. "I love you, kid.”

"I love you too, Dad.”

He pulls her in, tight to his chest. Her hands ball into little fists against his back as she wraps around him, and he remembers those same fists grabbing tight to his pointer finger the day she came home from the hospital.

A new surge of possessiveness swoops through him. 

"You being safe?”

“Dad…”

He can hear the eye roll, so he pulls back, taking her by the shoulders trying to catch it in action. Knows she’s embarrassed, but he ain’t done yet. Even as a dad, he can be a little shit. 

"I can tell ya about condoms and lube, though that might not be such a thing for you? I don't know fuck all about a woman's body. Already seen way more than I ever wanted to… And it seems like you're past whatever I woulda told you before…"

She shudders at the outpouring of information, but she’s intrigued. "What would you have told me before?”

He settles back on the couch, spreading his legs just slightly, a mischievous smirk on his face. 

"Aight, I got yer cheap birth control right here. Only costs a penny. You put the penny on the inside of your knee—doesn’t matter which—and then you hold it in place with the other knee.”

He demonstrates, closing his knees together and holding it tight, his hands now raised high in the air.

Jo groans, “Oh my god.” 

Ian plops down on the couch next to Mickey, tired of being relegated to the kitchen. ”You’re a dumbass.”

"'Ey, I think it's a great option,” Mickey balks. “Affordable, ya know?”

"You heard?” Jo asks Ian, her cheeks pinking up.

"I heard,” he confirms, his arm stretching past Mickey to tenderly touch her cheek. “We love you.”

“Love you too,” she says. “And I'm being safe… Haven't really done much yet.”

"Take your time,” Ian says simply. “There’s no rush.”

“He’s right,” Mickey adds, “especially because you’ll be grounded for the next month.”

“A month?! For kissing? That’s not fair!” Jo complains.

“Tough.”

“But you said it yourself I’m not doing anything you two weren’t doing!”

“Fine, two weeks,” Ian says, earning him a “yes!” from Jo, and a scowl from his husband.

“Did you even order dinner in there or were you just listening in the whole time?"

Ian flushes. Grumbles something as he pulls out his phone.

“Fucking figures,” Mickey says. Turns back to Jo. “And we’re your parents, kid. Thing’s ain’t always going to be fair. So, fine, two weeks because your old man’s a pushover, but I better not catch you hooking up on my couch again, capisce?”

“Capisce,” she smiles.

Young, bare knuckles bump against older, inked ones.

“Now, I’ve had a crap day. Make yourself useful and get me a beer, would you?”

[dayurno]

merry christmas user dayurno!! i have some. bad news about my slice of life kerejean fic in that it is currently 400k+ words of silliness and i did not plan on ever sharing it bc it’s my little sandbox and i did not think anyone would ever be interested. but for u i will share some little fun facts about it.

jeremy does not realize for several weeks that they’re like. courting him. even though he’s literally falling in love with them and how they love each other. kevjean are idiots and think they’re being super clear but jeremy is losing his mind. he’s a 23 year old being taken on dates by successful rich kevjean like sweating and thinking they don’t want to be more than friends with benefits with him. they are as obsessed with him as he is of them and are freaks who are already planning to bring him home to wymack. it’s all silly really.

on the kevjean side, they’ve been together on and off since 13 and are now 28. kevin got out of the nest at 14 bc Riko broke his hand early but he refused to lose contact with jean (he meets neil again earlier and neil helps him grow braver :3). they get jean out of the nest when he’s 20. the Moriyama’s are uh. Disenfranchised shortly after and their lives are their own. jean is a successful artist/consultant and kevin cannot play exy due to his hand being hurt again. he makes it work by participating in the Exy world and has mostly come to terms with it. they are madly in love and know everything about each other, and other than their constant bickering, are practically One Codependent Unit when they’re in the same country bc if they CAN be side by side they will not be spotted alone. jean cooks and kevin makes them drinks and they fight over who pays for expensive dinners or has to tell their friends they will NOT be attending whatever event bc they don’t want to leave the house. and this is so long i APOLOGIZE the world is vast and silly and this only scratches the surface. there was no need for this tangent. but yes…… domestic kevjean inviting in oblivious jeremy knox…. very special to me indeed

ANIONFVNNNNNNNNN ive been waiting for me to be less busy with holidays and such to write an answer and aiaiiaii I think i hauve covid.... i understand the idea of a fic you write for yourself in your little sandbox but if you ever feel like sharing this know i'd go INSANE for it okay. i'd LOVE it i'd start barking in your comment sections i'd really make a fool of myself so consider it!!!! at least a little bit!!!! please and thank you

TOGETHER SINCE THEY WERE 13........... i'm losing my mind i fucking. adore domestic kevjean and i absolutely adore adore adore the idea of them being on and off since they were so young, literally womb to tomb sweethearts, life partners in every way......... I'M SICK I'M ILL I REALLY AM the idea of them having their house and their friends who invite them to dinner parties and their favorite restaurants and their- (passes out). they're really 'our songs, ours films, united we stand / our country, guess it was a lawless land / quiet my fears with the touch of your hand' but like. happy version. SORRY THIS IS REALLY MAKING ME DELIRIOUS..... save me domestic kevjean save me save me teenage dream turned reality kevjean

AND THEN THE TROPE INVERSION OF JEREMY BEING THE ONE INVITED INTO THEIR RELATIONSHIP...... and i well (hides behind hand fan) i am known to have enjoyed a little age gap in my time.... jeremy's milfs..... being courted by this rich famous couple and not knowing where to stand... LIVING THE Y/N LIFE. anon. grabs your little cheeks. you have to post this okay. you have to revolutionize how kerejean is done so i can follow in your footsteps. okay? please

[tarot-by-e11e]

Helloo!! How are you! Hope you're doing well! :D

I really like this game's theme, may i join?

My initials are ABM!

Go-to self empowerment song: ME! By Taylor swift, Me too by Meghan Trainor!

What does my dream life look like:

First thing, BIG house, I think a villa with a spacious garden and full of eye pleasing scenery!! I also want to be financially independent and continue working even after marriage, KIDS!! atleast 2 of them!!! Then, I just want to make my family happy, satisfied and proud. I want to give them the luxuries they could never dream of, I want to make their life an easy walk once I take up the responsibilities and start earning

Thank you Elle!! And hope you have a lovely day!!

Hi ABM,

Thank you so much for participating in my new ask game~

I actually love how fun those two songs are! They’re really upbeat and fun to listen to.

Your dream has this warm and cozy vibe to it!! It’s giving “happy suburban family life” vibes~ I hope you get to turn this dream into a reality in the future. Just be mindful to not project your dreams on others, okay?

The cards I pulled for you regarding the Encouragement of your Future Self are:

9 of Swords, the Justice, Queen of Coins

These are the things your Future Self wants to tell you:

“Anxiety over things you can’t control will do more harm than good, my dear. But that doesn’t mean you should shove your pain in a bottle and throw it into the ocean. Learn to discern which are worth prioritizing and which situations are better left to be taken care for by the universe. Do with what you can and learn to adapt through the things beyond your control.”

“Paranoia is a cauldron filled with our anxiety and insecurities concocted by our lack of self-worth. The more you feed into other people’s projections, the more you allow their poison to spill into your potions. What you pay attention to, is what you feed into your subconscious. So be mindful of the content you consume.”

“Do you know why we have nightmares? It’s our subconscious way of asking for help. Take note of your nightmares. They hold clues to old wounds you didn’t know you had.”

“Isolation isn’t bad. It’s the quiet period before everything starts getting great. It’s a safe time to quietly master skills, away from discerning eyes.”

“The season of poverty and depravity will end soon. Keep your eyes open to give gratitude for the next chapter of your life to begin. It’ll actually get better. There are no shortcuts. Progress is slow and steady.”

“Everything will balance out in the end. Those who treated you like crap will get the justice they deserve. The conquered would be the unconquerable in the future. With how many self-imposed limiting beliefs we currently have, we’re actually going to live life in the best way would could all because you made a decision to want more out of life.”

“We’re actually going to be happy! We got the chance to be nurturing! Always remember, you have so much love to give to the right person who loves, respects and supports you wholeheartedly. That love will multiple into abundance.”

“That domestic comfort that you mentioned in your dream? We’re actually living that life in the future. I could never imagine living life without them. It wasn’t easy but my God it’s worth it. All of it.”

This is all I can read for you.

Do let me know how this resonates with you.

(This reading is for entertainment purposes only)

[watchdogfanclub]

EWWW THE GUY WHO JOINED YOUR SERVER FOR GROSS R34 EUGH EUGH EW.

De..athst.ar shippers come in 2 flavors: the whump/abuse fanatics and the he-man womanlesbian-haters (/ref) chuds. I can never tell which is worse when they equally make me wanna yarf. I'm telling you, EVERY time I come across those guys SOMEONE IS POSTING CROPPED PORN. ALWAYS, ALWAYS WITH THE CROPPED PORN. This is a kids show for for flarf's sake it's just disgusting!! I know every fandom has its bad eggs but jfc!! ((Sorry to vent in your inbox but that rb brought up SO many annoying memories))

GOD! Tbh I'm sure there's a huge overlap between types. Apparently the stupid sexy "fanservice" in Dom's song worked because it drew in these disgusting weirdos in droves! If you look up WOY on any given website you’ll see at minimum a suggestive Dom pin-up!

It's not just the fandom having bad apples, it's them being drawn in and encouraged by the show. Sex sells. That's why the fandom exploded after My Fair Hatey came out and Dom's song went viral. Sure, there were others that saw the video and came too. But the massive influx of untagged porn was... hell.

And I'm still mad about how the crew's behavior (minus ND... he tried so hard and it's no coincidence that the episode he wrote is the only one where I liked Dom as a character...) lured these misogynist pervs in.

It was an incel storyline with the standard incel conclusion that she didn't love him because she was too evil to love. (Really hurt to see that as an aro who thought I was a girl...)

Then there's all these close-ups/emphasis on her boobs and butt, with expression and even anatomy sacrificed to make her look sexy... on a kid's show... Seriously, there was a revision where they had the pose redone because she didn't look attractive enough. Pissed me off to no end.

ND aside she didn't even get written as a character. Replace her with a sexy lamp and galaxy wide natural diaster and it'd be the same plot without the rampant misogyny. Still can't believe that the narrative taught Sylvia to follow Wander without question... Instead of her getting to sit him down and explain that he was being a heteronormative, sexist ass who only treated Dom as a prop to change Hater.

Hah. Yeah. As if Dom would charm him into being a good guy and live a happy, quiet domestic life when she wants to rip not only his spine out, but every spine in the galaxy.

Fun trivia! Once Craig said that C.Peeps banned women fron the army because Hater was nervous around them. Because they're (both) sexist. I find that hard to believe when he's the only man who respected Dom as a person (or at all) once her helmet came off.

Yeah. Not the all-loving do-gooder who was increasingly treated as an infinitely wise being. The guy who will shoot people for looking at him funny.

[lillylvjy]

brainrot ACTIVATED

~~~

after moving in with ghosts, you adjust as needed but you still go out and hang out with a couple of old friends, go out and run errands. you still have a life, the point is. wilbur knows his ended, and still, he can't help himself when he sees you come home smiling and laughing on the phone. he wants to be that reason and he wants what you have.

he can't leave the place, can't change his clothes, not really. he's stuck in time and he wants out. he wants to be alive again.

you can sense these moods he gets in, when he gets quiet and only watches you from across the room instead of getting in your space. when he leaves you alone, when he doesn't ask any questions when you leave and come back.

and you can't believe it but you have to take action so your domestic ghost stops moping. so you leave a little a less, not majorly, but more often than not, you take the chance to stay home and watch shows with wilbur and tommy. at first, it was just tommy. wilbur didn't want to get close, wanting to swallow his feelings down and avoid them. but then you'd turn to look at him and smile and pat the spot next to you and suddenly he'd almost feel alive again.

things get better. wilbur starts talking again, starts joking again. smiles more. makes you flustered even more so. he's just so happy to be in your life and that you want him in it, he almost can't believe the feelings bubbling in his cold chest. he knows what they mean, he doesn't want to ruin what you two have, though. he likes what he has with you.

one night, while you're pulling the covers over your shoulders and he only peaks in to make sure you're going to bed, by the way, you catch his eye and he apologizes quietly. you shut him up by inviting him in.

"you can lay down," you say, scooting over to the wall and lifting the covers. he can't say anything, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. but he moves, moves and lays down as gently as he can, sinking into the warm blankets. your eyes flutter close, a hint of a smile on your face.

its at the tip of his tongue, the start of a confession. his mouth is stuck together. he can't fall asleep either. but when he knows you are, he leans a little closer and tucks the blanket more over you.

he hesitates, but in the end, he presses a kiss to your forehead. he whispers goodnight and closes his eyes. sinking even more so into the warmth of your bed, your covers, and your body next to him. for now, he can keep his feelings to himself. he can stay quiet for that one thing. it's okay, because you're here and you want him here too.

~~~

sorry if this is a bit much, i got a wee bit of the rot but like gbgjknnsg aNYWAYS. hope this helps and that you like it!

This- did you read my plans for part 3/4?! Cuz like- THIS JIST OPENED UP MY MIND- wipes oml-

No but everytime you’d go out- he’d be jealous at whoever got to see you and go out with you. He wants that too be him. He wants to be by your side, outside of this hell hole.

And when he sees you trying your best to get him back to, Wilbur. He feels bad, he made you think you had to do this for him. But he’s also silently thankful you did, bc you gets more of you. He gets to see you smile and blush and laugh. All because of him. And Tom sometimes too.

So it kinda sparks something in him and is growing back to himself again.

Now when you invite him to bed- it’s so tempting to pull you close to his chest and pour out his heart to you.

No doubt he’d do that while your sleeping and then soon realize that shit- you didn’t hear a word he said and he has to say it again- to your face. It terrifies him in the best ways.

But he is super insecure about what you think of him and he doesn’t want to ruin anything. So for now he’ll be the silly little ghost that lives in your house and flirts with you ever once in a while-