#if i didn’t have to deal with the things i have to deal with
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er1nne · 3 days ago
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rafe hates when you buy things without using his card
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(do not copy or plagarize, original work) The Range Rover hummed quietly, its blacked-out interior wrapping you and Rafe in a cocoon of shadows and muted streetlights. It had been his idea to take you for a nail day—completely unprompted but not surprising. Rafe had a way of knowing when you needed a little spoiling, especially after the week you’d had. The air smelled like his cologne, something expensive and sharp, mixing with the faint scent of leather from the seats. You were reclined comfortably with both legs stretched out, your freshly painted white toes wiggling lazily as you scrolled through your phone.
Rafe sat in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. His thumb stroked absentminded circles into your skin while his sharp blue eyes flicked toward the darkened street ahead. Traffic was crawling, a sea of red taillights stretching endlessly ahead. Rafe didn’t seem too bothered, one hand resting on the wheel while the other stayed on your thigh. His thumb moved in slow, hypnotic circles against your skin, his blue eyes flicking between the road and the glow of your phone screen. He was calm—you liked him this way.
“What’s got you so quiet, huh?” His voice broke the silence, smooth but with an edge that always demanded your attention.
“Just trying to check out before everything sells out,” you mumbled, barely glancing up. You were busy, furiously tapping away as you finalized your cart. The latest House of CB drop was a battlefield, and you weren’t about to lose.
“Lemme see.” He leaned closer, his sharp gaze cutting toward your screen. When he caught sight of the digits you were typing, his brows furrowed, his jaw tightening. “Wait, is that your card?”
You paused, immediately bracing for what was coming. “Yeah? Why?”
Rafe let out a short, irritated laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You have all of my cards saved to your phone, and you’re using your own card? What the hell for?”
“It’s not a big deal, Rafe.” You kept your voice calm, like you weren’t trying to spark an argument in the middle of what was such a nice day. “It’s not like I can’t afford it.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Afford it?” he repeated, voice tinged with a certain tone to it. “Sweetheart, I literally pay for your life. Why do you even have a card? For decoration?”
You glared at him, but the faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrayed you. “Rafe—”
“No, seriously,” he cut in, shaking his head as if the idea itself was absurd. “What are you holding onto that thing for? Just in case I drop dead tomorrow and you suddenly need it?”
You huffed an air of annoyance as a pout covered your slightly glossed lips and starred out the car window. The car filled with an almost unbearable silence. His hand, which had been rubbing your thigh, went still.
He turned to glance at you a few times before looking back at the road, the corner of his mouth twitching with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “Afford-” he repeated again slightly scoffing, voice low and slow, like he was trying to decide if you were messing with him. “Do you even hear yourself?”
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaning slightly closer to his natural warmth. “It’s not that much.”
“To you. To me, that’s pocket change.” His fingers drummed a little harder against the steering wheel now, a restless energy creeping into his movements more obvious than ever.
“Rafe,” you started to whine, but he cut you off, shaking his head.
“Nah. Don’t start.” He turned fully to face you now, his hand lifting to cup your jaw, gently but firmly enough that you couldn’t look away. “Why do you always make this a thing? Is it so hard to let me take care of you? That’s why I’m here. To take care of you. You’re supposed to let me.”
Your resolve faltered under his intense gaze. He wasn’t just irritated—he was hurt. His words were a reminder, the same ones he’d given you before. Rafe wasn’t just possessive for the sake of it—he hated seeing you stress over anything, especially when he had the means to give you whatever you needed, whenever you wanted it. He didn’t want you holding onto burdens you didn’t have to carry. He’d told you before how it made him feel when you refused to lean on him, how he hated the idea of you ever struggling when he had the means to make your life easier. Rafe always told you how much he loved taking care of you, he felt proud to. Anything you ever want, he would give you, plus more.
“I’m not helpless,” you said softly, and it sounded weak even to your own ears.
“Did I say that you were?” he shot back immediately, his sharp blue eyes flicking from the road to meet yours. There was no trace of anger in his voice, just a steady, unyielding determination. “I know what you’re capable of. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore.”
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze softening, though his tone stayed firm. “I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re mine, remember? So stop making it harder than it needs to be. Let me do my job.”
Even while navigating the slow-moving traffic, his focus on you didn’t waver. His eyes flicked back to yours, holding them for just a second longer than he should have, but long enough to make your heart skip a beat. You felt the weight of his words settle over you, the quiet conviction in his voice leaving no room for argument.
“Rafe…” you started. You stared at him for a long moment before finally relenting, handing over your phone with a quiet sigh. “Fine. Just this once.”
He smirked, already deleting your card details and replacing them with his own Amex Black information. The confirmation dinged almost immediately, and he handed the phone back to you, smug satisfaction written all over his face. “There. Easy. Now you’ve got your shit, and I’ve got my peace of mind.”
“Thank you,” you muttered, cheeks warming as you avoided his eyes.
Rafe tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. “Don’t thank me, baby. Just stop making this harder than it has to be. Just let me take care of you?” A small pout covered your slighly glossed lips as you responded to him in a small voice, "Okay."
“That’s my girl,” He smiled and leaned back in his seat, hand returning to your thigh as he glanced toward the street, his usual sharp focus slipping back into place.
You smiled slightly, your frustration melting away as you leaned into him. Because no matter how stubborn you could be, you both knew he’d always win in the end. And deep down, you didn’t mind.
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omnipresentlemon · 2 days ago
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While I know most Vanco/Zaundads enthusiasts are focused on the family dynamic centered around Powder for obvious reasons (alternate timeline w/ Vi dead, we’re not really sure when Vanco reunited in that timeline, Jinx and Silco’s relationship in S1, etc.), I feel like we’re missing out on some solid Father-Daughter antics between Silco and Vi. For example:
- Vi growled at people she didn’t like until she was like 10 because she heard someone call Vander the Hound of the Underground and thought that was the coolest thing ever. Silco threatened to muzzle her if she didn’t stop.
- While Powder loves helping Vander out at The Last Drop, Vi insists on being Silco’s “bodyguard” whenever he had business to deal with, whether it’s with the Chem Barons or Piltover elite. Silco appreciates it but also cannot have every meeting end with a fistfight, please just stand in the corner and look menacing, Violet.
- Silco is the only one who calls her Violet. When she was really little he gave her the nickname Petal, which she loathes once she’s older but also secretly loves.
- He’s also the one she goes to when she wants to hear stories about her parents. Vander will tell her the big stuff, how Connol and Felicity met, when Vi was born, etc., but Silco will tell her about how her mom would sing the raunchiest ballads when she got drunk, how her dad hand-carved her crib when he found out Felicity was pregnant; the sweet little in between moments that made them who they were.
- Vi will keep Silco company when he stays up late working, a warm, solid presence pressed into his side. Vander loves it, because the second Vi starts drifting off, Silco will put down his work and help shuffle her off to bed. It’s the most effective way to keep Silco from burning the midnight oil.
Please feel free to add on, I’m obsessed with the entire Zaundads dynamic and want my girl Vi to get some love, too. ♥️♥️
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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 day ago
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You’ve got my body, flesh and bone
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Obsessed!Rafe x nerdy!girl!reader
Summary: something was different about you, and rafe can’t stop thinking about you ever since you came home from college. He knows you want him, too, even if you don’t show it
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, penetrative sex, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), fingering, obsessed behaviors, pervy behaviors (I think?), Rafe is down bad, reader is secretly naughty, dom!rafe, spitting, choking, bit of degradation, Rafe is rough and she likes it.
Wrote this with s2 Rafe in mind but he’s not as psychotic🥰 reader also wears glasses, hope you like being blind
WC: 5.5k I’m so sorry
A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE. Anyway I couldn’t help myself. Rafe and Drew are in my mind all day and I need them so bad so I wrote it! I dedicate this to the reason of my insanity @bloodibambiidoll love you doll for feeding me into crash out Rafe😩. This was heavily inspired by her own Rafe fics so def check her out!
Also tagging my other rafe baby @babygorewhore🩷
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There weren't a lot of things in this world that Rafe didn’t have. His whole life, anything he wanted, he had, at the palm of his hand. Whatever he wanted, he could do. And he fucking loved it. He didn’t know what it was like to crave something to the point of madness. Until you came around. 
He didn’t know what it was, that feeling deep inside his gut. He didn’t know if it was lust, or desire, or if he truly felt something for you. Perhaps he felt all three. But one thing he knew for certain. If he didn’t have you soon, he was going to cave someone’s face in. It didn’t help that you shot him down every time. The more you ignored him, the more he craved you. Albeit he knew he had a chance in high school and he didn’t take it then. But even he knew he was a prick then. More than he was now, anyway. Deep down he couldn’t blame you for not giving him a chance now, he didn’t want you when you were all quiet and had those ugly glasses, so why should he get you now that you were more confident and stopped giving a fuck what people thought about you? He had to admit, college made you hot as fuck. 
Rafe didn’t know it at first, but the first time he saw you at a party, your hair all pretty, your laugh so contagious he heard it across the room, your clothes hugging every curve of your body perfectly. His jaw fucking dropped. He almost didn’t believe it was you at first. Until he heard whispers about just how fucking hot you had gotten after college. He didn’t know it then, but his sanity was going to go downhill from there. 
That was a month ago, and he still couldn’t get you to give him the light of day. It was almost like you were running away from him, every time. And it pissed him off, really, it did. He craved your attention like he never before. Maybe he was getting soft. Or he was going insane. Either one.
The worst part? 
You were doing it on purpose. 
You caught on pretty quickly. After the first couple of times of catching Rafe blatantly staring at you whenever he saw you, you were curious. It wasn’t entirely outlandish, you were like an exotic animal, having come back to the island after graduating early from university. You didn’t change much, you just learned to manage your social anxiety and started putting more effort into your appearance. You didn’t understand why everyone made such a big deal out of you. But you ignored it for the most part. 
But you couldn’t ignore Rafe. His presence was intoxicating. Even if he didn’t approach you directly. You knew he was there. But you never made an effort to talk to him. You only ever talked to Sarah when you saw her. She was the one that pointed out Rafe in a corner, Topper talking his ear off but Rafe wasn’t paying listening to a word being said, he was looking at you. You, of course, brushed her off with the excuse you gave everyone. 
“He'll get over it, just give it a week.”
He did not, in fact, get over it. 
He thought you didn’t notice, but he followed you on instagram. Of course you noticed. How could you not? Your account was public, but you occasionally looked at who followed you. And the second you saw Rafe fucking Cameron followed you, you almost fainted. Suddenly, the stupid crush you had on Rafe at sixteen came flooding right back. You refused to get your hopes up, but the thought of Rafe quietly stalking your social media never left your mind.
You had no proof, but over the course of a month, you posted on your stories way more than you ever did in college, because you knew Rafe would see them. If you went to a party on Figure 8? Insta story. If you went to the beach? Swimsuit selfies. Felt pretty and did your makeup? Insta story. And what did you notice? Rafe always coincidentally seemed to end up at the exact place you were at. He never came alone, obviously. But he always hung out nearby, always within your line of sight. 
You were driving him mad, certainly. There's no way it was legal for you to wear a swimsuit like that. It actually made his blood boil knowing there were other guys blatantly eye fucking you. Only he should be allowed to do that. He angrily sipped into his cup, silently fuming as he had to stand and simply watch you laugh and run around with your friends, walking past him every time you got drinks for the bar. 
He swore he saw you grin at him one time, a devious and flirty look in your eyes when you made eye contact with him. And he was ready to grab you by the arm and drag you to his car and fuck you right then and there. But he decided against it. Somehow he had enough self control. But it was wearing thin the longer his torture dragged on. 
“Girl, what did you do to Rafe?” Your high school best friend asked you when you came back with your drinks. You frowned, tilting your head innocently. 
“To Rafe? Nothing. I haven’t even talked to him since I came back.” You answered with the truth. Though you purposely ignored what she probably meant. 
“He’s been like glaring at you the whole night. He hasn’t moved from there all night and he’s just looking at you.” She pointed out, more quietly now. And you couldn’t help but subtly shift your eyes in his direction. And indeed, your eyes met with his piercing blue ones. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t race the slightest bit when you caught him looking at you like that. He was looking at you exactly how you desperately wanted him to look at you in high school. 
“No idea what you mean. He’s probably just annoyed I’m hanging out with Sarah and her boyfriend. He probably thinks I’m encouraging her hanging out with the pogues.” You mumbled into your cup, shrugging as you quickly averted your gaze from Rafe. You weren’t sure if you wanted to convince her, or yourself.
“You’re better than me, because if Rafe Cameron looked at me like that I’d be dragging him to my car so fast.” She snorted and you almost choked on your drink. “I think you’re the only girl on this island he hasn’t fucked.” 
“Thank God for that.” You responded a bit too quickly, hoping to hide the slight bit of hurt her words brought to you. You always knew you weren’t good enough for Rafe. You always pretended not to care, but you’d be lying.
You left alone that night. And Rafe couldn’t hold back the urge to follow close behind you. He didn’t know when he got in his car after you. Or when he started driving to your house. Or when he got out of his car. He wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he was going to knock on your door. Or maybe he would. He ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he swept his hair away from his face, exasperated. The very small, but still present, rational side of his mind told him to get the fuck out. And he was going to, until he saw you emerge from your room on the second floor, and you stood right in front of the large window cell. He panicked, running to hide from sight, behind a large tree, but he didn’t leave, he didn’t want to. 
His jaw dropped, his eyes blowing wide open at the sight of you, untying your bikini top and just letting it fall, right then and there. The sight shot straight to his cock. What the fuck were you thinking? What if someone saw you? The thought of you exposing yourself like that made his jaw lock, but his now hard cock in his shorts was much more evident. He couldn’t look away. He was pissed he couldn’t see below your stomach, especially when he saw you crouch as you presumably took off your bottoms, too. 
Rafe almost moaned at the thought. 
And just like that you were gone. And you didn’t come back to the window. It almost felt like the universe was playing a cruel fucking prank on him. Now he had to drive home with an uncomfortable hard on in his shorts. That pissed him off even more.
~~~~~~
This became a habit for Rafe. He would aggressively scroll through your instagram page multiple times a day, hoping that he’d find out where you were for the night. But not in a weird way. He just wanted to see you. But he still hadn’t found the way to get you to talk to him first. He was starting to see the flaw in that plan. But alas, he couldn’t talk to you himself if he didn’t know where to find you. And sometimes, he’d find himself just standing outside your window, hiding behind that same tree. Sometimes you’d sit by the window cell, play around with your hair, sometimes you would read. And sometimes, you’d walk around completely naked, in full view of Rafe. How many times he all but sped home to rub one out was actually embarrassing. 
Rafe was tired of this little game. Though he didn’t quite realize it was a game at all. You had no proof, but you knew. That one time you caught him nearly running back to his car was proof enough for you. So you kept going, until he snapped. You didn’t anticipate just how fast he would break. 
“Guess who showed up.” Your friend whispered in your ear. You casually glanced over your shoulder to find none other than Rafe, with Topper and Kelce right behind him like lost puppies. It had to be criminal how hot this man looked. The polo shirt he wore was hanging on by a thread under his biceps and you had to force yourself to tear your eyes away. 
“Yeah, so? He shows up to every party.” You shrugged, pretending not to catch on to the blatant connection. She rolled her eyes at you. 
“Oh, so he casually shows up to the one party you’ve come to all week? Don’t you think it’s a little odd?”
You shrugged again. You were sure it was a coincidence. Sure it wasn’t because you posted a selfie of your pretty makeup and your pretty dress with the location of the party you got invited to. And surely the way Rafe was staring at you right now had nothing to do with the way your dress accentuated your chest perfectly, showing enough but still leaving some to the imagination. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. 
“Nope. Anyway, want a drink?” You smiled at her innocently, completely ignoring her Rafe interrogation. She shot you a pointed look, surely she would grill you about it later, but she relented nonetheless. 
With a smile you skipped over to the bar, your dress riding up ever so slightly as you leaned over the wooden bar to speak over the loud music. Rafe nearly dropped his beer, his eyes going from your hair down to your ass. He couldn’t take this anymore. 
“Yeah, whatever bro. I’ll be right back.” He cut off Topper as he went on about one thing or another, he didn’t wait for a response and he approached you in long strides. He sniffed softly, running a hand through his hair before opening his mouth. 
You heard your name spoken in a deep voice, with a drink in each hand, you whipped around, not expecting to run straight into a solid, muscled chest. 
“Hey—oh fuck,” Rafe cursed when the drinks you were holding spilled all over his shirt, and over the front of your dress. You gasped loudly, nearly squealing when the ice cubes slipped down your chest. 
“Rafe! What the actual fuck.” You almost screamed at him, desperately attempting to wipe off the alcohol soaking your dress, the front now sticking to your tits. Rafe wanted to say something, maybe apologize, but he was mouth agape at the sight of your soaked chest, it took him a minute to process. 
“Shit, my bad. I didn’t mean to,” he swallowed, his own shirt starting to stick to his chest. Which didn’t slip past  you, even in your anger. But you couldn’t think about that right now. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah, alright. I’m sure you totally didn’t want to embarrass me by spilling drinks all over me. Grow the fuck up, Rafe.” You huffed, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. You could feel your face fluster with embarrassment and you had to force yourself not to cry. You had tried so hard to remove yourself from the old you, the one everyone made fun of, the one that got asked out to prom as a prank, the one everyone stared at in disgust. And you felt like that girl all over again. 
Rafe didn’t even have time to argue, you were running off before he could get a word in. He groaned, discomfort settling in from his shirt sticking to his skin. 
“Way to go bro. You didn’t have to embarrass the freakshow like that though.” Rafe sneered in disgust at your high school nickname and he rolled his eyes, shrugging off the casual hand on his shoulder. 
“Shut the fuck up before I shove broken glass down your throat.” 
If there was something in this world that Rafe could never have, it would be patience. And this little game had his sanity wearing very thin. 
He didn’t know exactly when he ended up at your front door, fist pounding loudly as he called your name. His bike was somewhere on the lawn, he didn’t bother to hide it this time. He swore if you didn’t open this door right now he would kick it open. He stepped back, his jaw tight as he waited a few seconds before doing something more drastic. Then, the door swung open. And there you were. 
“I swear to God Rafe.” You sighed loudly, crossing your arms over your now slightly damp chest, having somewhat dried off the front of your dress. Rafe was taken aback by the appearance of your glasses, however. He hadn’t seen you wear them since you came back. Were you always this cute in them? 
No, focus. 
“You didn’t even let me talk back there! I didn’t mean to run into you like that, I swear.” He took a step closer, slightly leaning down to talk close to your face. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyebrows furrowed with mistrust. 
“Oh right, so was it just a coincidence that you were standing right behind me like a wall?” You shot back, shooting him a suspicious look. He rolled his eyes at you, sighing heavily. “If you wanted to look at them better you could’ve just asked! You didn’t have to knock drinks all over my dress.” 
The words left your mouth in a haze. Fast and angrily as you motioned your hands around. You didn’t realize what you said until the look in Rafe’s eyes shifted. Going from confused to downright sinful. He tilted his head at you, crowding your personal space with his big fucking body. You realized then that you really fucked up. 
“What’d you say?” He asked, his voice low as he made you step back into your house. He followed you, his face close to yours and you swallowed. 
“Huh?” Play dumb, sure. 
“Uh-uh, don’t try to be all innocent now. What the fuck did you say?” He repeated, one of his large hands coming up to grip your jaw. You swallowed, your lips pulled into a pout. 
“You really weren’t that sneaky.” You finally admitted, throwing all logic out of the window knowing you both got caught red-handed by the other. Though Rafe didn’t look embarrassed or even remorseful, if anything he looked pleasantly amused. Impressed even. 
“Well, shit.” A grin pulled at his lips as he laughed, a rush of adrenaline flowing through his already amped up body. “You little whore. You were striping in front of your fuckin’ window on purpose, weren’t you?”
“I didn’t know for sure but, I heard your bike a couple of times.” You shrugged, trying to hide the devious smile on your lips. Rafe scoffed humorously, in utter disbelief. “You following me on insta was kind of a given, too.” 
“You are..” He leaned down, his soft lips mere inches away from yours as he blew out a chuckle, “A dirty little slut. You have any fuckin’ idea what you’ve been doin’ to me? Hm?” He squeezed your jaw between his fingers, forcing your head back to make sure your eyes were on him. 
The words that left his mouth made you rub your thighs together, heat forming between them at the thought of being this close to Rafe, knowing he was on the brink of madness, all because of you. You could see it in his eyes, that utter need to fuck you, take you over and over, or else he would go insane. 
“Thought I wasn’t your type.” You shot back, pettiness lacing your tongue. A groan of annoyance rumbled in his chest. 
“I didn’t know I was your type.” 
“You’re everyone’s type, since when are you humble?” You mocked him with a small laugh, but it quickly died in your chest when his fingers fell to your throat, and he dug his fingers with the faintest pressure. You nearly moaned. 
“Well you’re my type right now. Your tits sure fuckin’ are.” He bit his lip softly, making sure his eyes were on yours when he spoke again, “bet your pussy is my type too. Lemme find out, hm?” 
If you weren’t wet before, you sure were now. You nearly moaned out loud, his words alone bending you to his will. Not that it would take much work. 
Rafe didn’t get to say another word, you were pulling him down by the back of his neck and you kissed him, and you kissed him really fucking hard. He liked your intensity. He craved to find out just what else you were hiding behind your innocent and sweet girl facade. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, his fingers lacing into your hair to force your head back for him. And you happily let him. His other hand shamelessly grabbed at your ass, squeezing it as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.
“My bedroom is—“ you were breathless as you muttered against his lips. Rafe chuckled, cutting you off as he effortlessly hoisted you around his waist. 
“I know where your fuckin’ room is.” Of course he did. 
You giggled as Rafe tossed you on your bed, biting your bottom lip as you watched him pull his polo over his head and your jaw fell wide open at the sight. 
“Dude why are you like, so hot? Fuck.” Your eyes were big as you nearly drooled at the sight of his muscled torso. He was so ripped it was unbelievable. Rafe smirked at you, happy to hear that you were stroking his ego. He quickly joined you in your bed, straddling you as he hovered over you. 
“Yeah?” He leaned down, lips curved up into a grin as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your lips. You nodded as his tongue laced with yours, a string of spit connecting your lips when he pulled back. “You should've just talked to me then. Could’ve had me much sooner. You got any fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you stupid?” 
“How was I supposed to know? You didn’t want me before. I didn’t know.” You pouted, a bit of hurt laced in your voice. He rolled his eyes at you, long fingers coming to squeeze your face. You held your breath as his blue eyes pinned you.
“No, you just wanted to punish me. You wanted to parade yourself around Figure 8 with your pretty little dresses and your innocent little smile. But then at night you’d strip yourself naked in front of your window.” He huffed out the words, frustration coating his tongue. You shrugged. “You wanted to act like a slut, so I’ll fuck you like one. But first, I wanna taste your pussy.” 
The way your body shuddered when Rafe moved down the bed to settle between your legs was embarrassing. You were already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you. You held your breath in anticipation as he reached underneath your dress, tugging your panties down your legs. Rafe grinned at the blue lacy panties that matched your white and navy blue flowy dress. You pretended not to notice him casually shove the lace into his back pocket. 
“Take off your dress. I wanna look at your tits.”  You totally would punch any other man for speaking to you like this, but Rafe? He could speak to you in any way he wanted, especially when he was in between your legs, nearly drooling at the sight of your already soaked cunt. 
You complied, unzipping the side of your dress before pulling it over your head, to reveal that you were indeed not wearing a bra today. Rafe nearly groaned at the sight. 
“Fuck baby. You’re such a slut, did you plan this?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were replaced by a gasp when he dipped his head and licked a stripe between your folds without a single warning. 
It was actually embarrassing how quickly you were falling apart. You were a sobbing shaking mess as soon as he started to circle his tongue around your clit, sloppy sounds leaving his mouth as he moved his head up and down. Rafe was enjoying this as much as you were, how many times he fantasized about shoving his tongue into your cunt, what you would taste like, how you would sound like for him. It was driving him insane. He was groaning and moaning as he lapped at your soaking cunt. 
“You taste so fuckin’ good baby. You got any idea how many times I went home to rub one out thinkin’ about your pussy?” He groaned, spitting on your clit as he looked up at you, catching the way your back arched off the bed as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Should’ve just taken you. You would’ve let me, right doll? If I slipped in through your window and fucked this sweet little pussy in the middle of the night, wouldn’t even care as long as you got some dick, right?” 
His words slipped past you, only the feeling of his tongue back on your clit. You couldn’t think straight, your pussy was pulsing, it just felt so good, you didn’t remember the last time a man ate you like this, with such intensity and fervor. Rafe looked up at you again, amused by the way you squirmed and writhed on the bed. With a grin, he wrapped both arms under your knees and folded them damn near against your chest, spreading you open for him. And you couldn’t run away either. 
“I asked you a question.” He spat into your clit again, this time watching as the string of saliva ran down your clit before licking it. 
“Ah! Rafe! Fuck—y-yes! You can do whatever you want to me!” You sputtered, your voice breaking into a cry when he slipped his tongue into your hole. His nose bumped your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and you were nearly digging your nails into his scalp as you clutched his hair. You wanted to come so bad. “Please Rafe. I’m gonna come.” 
Rafe groaned into your pussy at your words. His tongue was replaced by two thick fingers and he curled them perfectly, enough to have you thanking the Gods for having your own house separate from your parents' main house. 
“Oh, fuck yeah. You look so pretty begging me to let you come. Say it again, say it again just like that f’me.” His eyes never left you as his tongue was back on your clit, his fingers slipping and curling inside your throbbing cunt in the most delicious way possible. You couldn’t even form a thought, let alone a sentence. You sobbed, your pussy pulsing around his thick fingers. 
“Please Rafe! Wanna come!” You didn’t have to say it twice, the second Rafe hummed at you, his tongue lapping at your swollen clit as his fingers fucked you raw, you were over. You were a shaking mess as you came, all you could do was gasp and cry as his fingers fucked you through your orgasm, and he happily continued to basically make out with your cunt.
“That was so fuckin’ good baby. You were so good f’me.” He grunted into your thigh as he lazily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 
Your eyes were screwed shut, heaving as you were still jolting from the aftershock. When you opened your eyes again you found Rafe already hovering above you, his blue eyes staring down at you with devious intentions. 
“You totally look so fuckin’ hot with those glasses. You should like suck my dick with them on.” You blinked at him, mouth slightly open which made him grin at you. “Not right now, I wanna be inside you now.” 
Rafe didn’t waste any fucking time in pressing your knees to your chest, your glistening pussy on full display and ready for his cock.
“I’m gonna fuck this pussy like I fuckin’ own it.” He spat, his jaw slightly falling open as he slipped into you. Your eyes rolled back almost instantly, the feeling of his cock stretching you was better than you could have ever imagined. He was so fucking big, too. “All these fuckin’ assholes lookin’ at you and I’m the only one that gets to fill this pussy, you got that?” 
You nodded harshly as he bottomed out, and without a warning he pulled out only to slam back into you, his cock damn near splitting you open. You threw your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing around his hair as he slammed into you, filling you deeper than anyone ever has before. 
“Just you Rafe! It’s always been you!” You grabbed his face, pulling him into a messy kiss. Your words made his cock twitch and all he wanted right then and there was to keep you here, beneath him, stuffed with his cock and never let you leave. 
“Why didn’t you come back sooner, huh? This pussy is so perfect, so tight. Just f’me. Want you all the fuckin’ time baby.” He grunted into your mouth, both arms caging you in as he drilled into you, his cock so deep you could almost feel him in your fucking guts. 
A string of pathetic sounds, a string of uh-uh-uh’s left your lips as he damn near folded you in half, your cute nails dragging down his back, surely to leave red angry marks. Rafe grunted in delight, his large hand coming to grab your throat. He definitely didn’t miss the way you pussy clenched around him then. 
“Shit, you’re so fucking hot, yknow that? Such a pretty little slut f’me. You’re gonna let me use you, hm? Do whatever I want with you?” He squeezed your throat, forcing your head up and down in a ‘yes’ gesture and you moaned, eyes screwed shut. “Mhmm, exactly. Open your fuckin’ mouth.” 
The sound that left your throat was so pathetic Rafe laughed. You did as you were told, opening your eyes as you opened your mouth, you watched him with glazed eyes as he leaned down and spat straight into your mouth. He watched you jaw slacked as you happily swallowed, feeling the bump under his fingers. 
“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I love it.” He leaned down again, his fingers tightening around your throat as he spat into your mouth again, but this time he kissed you, it was so messy and sloppy and you fucking loved it. “Act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.” 
“Mhmm yes! I’m such a slut, just for you.” You choked out, your throat raw and sore from the grip he had on it. He shuddered at your words, his cock twitching as he dropped his free hand to rub harsh circles around your clit. Your eyes rolled so far back you actually looked like you were spasming. “O-oh god. I’m gonna come—! Please Rafe—!” 
“Ohh, feels so good, doesn’t it baby? You wanna gush all over my dick huh?” He spoke right into your cheek, his sweaty cheek pressed right against yours as he held you by your throat, your glasses getting squished by him and you were praying to the Gods that he didn’t end up breaking them. 
“Please, please, please Rafe!” You sobbed, your soaked cunt pulsing around his cock, your thighs sore and shaking as you hanged on by a thread, so close to reaching your limit. 
“That’s it doll, squeeze the fuck out of me, come all over my cock, just like that.” He rubbed your clit and drilled into your already abused hole until you were gushing, you whole body shaking as you fell into a fit of sobs. Rafe wasn’t one to come just like that, but the sight of you so utterly fucked out and sobbing almost made him spill right then and there. 
“Ah! Rafe!” You whined as he kept fucking you, his rough hips and harsh pace not once slowing down, driving you to the point of overstimulation. You squirmed, almost as if you wanted to run away from him. He tisked at you, releasing your throat to grab your arm, holding you down as he gripped the headboard with the other, damn near crushing you with his big fucking body. 
“Oh, where the fuck are you going, huh? Who said you could run away? Nah, you wanted it, so now you take it like a good girl.” He reveled in the way you took his cock, jaw agape, eyes screwed shut and forehead screwed into a frown of pleasure. 
You were practically done for when he carelessly shoved your face to the side, damn near knocking your glasses off your face. His lips sucked marks on your neck as your pussy convulsed around his cock for the second time. Your head was spinning so hard and your vision was so blurry, you didn’t even know what planet you were on.
“Hmph! Rafe!” You yelped but he cut you off, a particularly sharp thrust making you slide up the mattress. 
“Shut up. I’m gonna fill you. Gonna ruin every other man for you.” He spat, his voice raspy and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he chased his high. 
“Please Rafe, give it to me. Want it so bad!” Well that fucking did it. A moan rumbled in Rafe’s throat as he spilled himself inside you. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth hung wide open. He snapped his hips, one, two more times before he sat still with a long breath. 
You laid speechless, blinking softly as you tried to slow your racing heart, and process that this actually happened. Sixteen year-old you would totally freak out. Rafe Cameron just fucked the life out of you. Rafe was looking down at you with a pussy-drunk look, his eyes slightly closed and his lips were parted. Not that you could see him that well. Your glasses were so smudged and foggy all you could see was blurry shapes. 
“I just fucked you dumb and you’re making that face?” Rafe narrowed his eyes at you as leaned on his forearms, holding up his weight as your legs fell to either side of him. You frowned at him, confused. 
“What face?”
“You’re pouting and shit.” He smirked, squeezing your face between his fingers and you shot him a pointed look, groaning. 
“I forgot to take off my glasses. They’re all dirty now. Can’t see shit.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your face away from his grip as you took your glasses off and tossed them on your nightstand. 
“Well you looked cute and shit so. You’re fine.” He pressed a kiss to your pouty lips before laying down beside you, the feeling of your mixed release making you hiss softly. 
Rafe lied with an arm behind his head and he couldn’t help but grin when he caught you looking at him with your lip pulled between your teeth. He nudged you over with his head and you happily settled underneath his arm with your head resting on his chest. You didn’t take him for a cuddling type but you’d happily take this.
You sighed heavily, just wanting to rest your sore muscles for a bit when you heard him speak again. 
“So are you gonna follow me back on insta now or what?” 
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dollishsz · 3 days ago
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BATBOYS JEALOUSY HCS ── .✦
a/n: I just ate which like now my stomach hurts because I ate this spicy burger (10/10) and my stomach is hurting so let’s hope i don’t die from a burger😭 also request from anon (here) tysm!
(Tags: batboys when jealous of crush!reader)
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BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Internally Brooding, Externally Stoic: Bruce keeps a calm, composed exterior, but inside? Full-on brooding mode. He watches every move, his jaw clenching just slightly whenever the other guy laughs a little too much.
Passive-Aggressive Moves: Bruce subtly but effectively tries to interrupt. Maybe he’ll walk by and offer you something he never does, like coffee or water, just to make his presence known. “You looked thirsty,” he’ll say, while the guy looks confused.
Petty Rich Guy Move: He’ll ‘accidentally’ mention something about Wayne Enterprises, as if to remind everyone just how wealthy and powerful he is. “Funny, we were discussing corporate acquisitions the other day,” he’ll drop casually, as if it relates. (Let’s hope he doesn’t drain his bank 😞🙏)
The Comedy: When Alfred catches him glaring, he’ll dryly say, “Master Wayne, perhaps you should try blinking before you permanently furrow your brow.” Bruce will immediately deny he’s bothered, even as he side-eyes you again.
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
Charm Dial Up to 100: Dick doesn’t even try to hide his jealousy. He’ll swoop into the conversation, throwing in his most dazzling smile. “Hey, I didn’t realize we were letting random guys have all the fun,” he’ll say with a teasing grin, while subtly nudging the guy aside.
Over-the-Top Compliments: He’ll suddenly become your biggest hype-man. “You know, she’s literally the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful person in the room, right? No offense to you, man.” The other guy feels awkward, and you just laugh while Dick grins smugly.
Puppy Dog Eyes: If you keep talking to the other guy, Dick’s smile might falter just a little, and he’ll stand in the background, clearly pouting. It’s so obvious that even you can’t help but laugh.
The Comedy: He’ll mutter, “Didn’t even know jealousy could feel this personal,” under his breath while side-eyeing the guy like it’s a soap opera.
JASON TODD ── .✦
Grumpy But Trying to Play it Cool: Jason’s jealousy is obvious in how stiff and silent he gets. He leans against the nearest wall, arms crossed, glaring like the other guy just insulted his whole family.
Blunt Interruptions: He doesn’t have the patience to be subtle. He’ll walk up and ask, “So, who’s this?” in the least friendly tone possible, with a fake smile that could curdle milk.
Accidental Intimidation: Jason’s sheer presence is intimidating, so the poor guy talking to you will probably start feeling uncomfortable as Jason looms over, cracking his knuckles or adjusting his jacket dramatically.
The Comedy: If you don’t notice, Jason will mutter sarcastically, “Oh sure, talk to Captain Chit-Chat over there. Not like I’m standing right here or anything.” Roy, nearby, might add, “Jason, you’re doing that ‘death stare’ thing again,” and Jason will growl, “I’m not jealous.”
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
Awkward and Overthinking Everything: Tim doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, it’s a mess. He watches from a distance, wringing his hands, thinking, Should I interrupt? Maybe she likes him? Maybe I’m reading too much into it…
Accidental Sulking: He tries to focus on something else, but his mind keeps wandering. He sits down nearby, pretending to work on his laptop, typing nonsense just so he can stay close without being obvious. “Haha, yeah…no big deal…” deletes everything he just typed.
Passive Observing: Tim eventually tries to casually stroll by, acting like he just happened to be there. “Oh, hey… didn’t see you there. Weird, right?” He’s so awkward it’s endearing.
The Comedy: If Kon or Bart sees him sulking, they’ll tease him mercilessly. “Dude, go talk to her.” Tim panics, “I can’t. She’s busy… laughing… with him…” Kon: “You’re hopeless.”
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Silent Judgment Mode: Damian watches with narrowed eyes, judging every aspect of the guy talking to you. He might even mutter things under his breath like, “He stands like a fool,” or “He can’t even articulate properly.”
Direct Interruption: Damian doesn’t have time for subtlety. He’ll walk up and flatly say, “Are you finished with this conversation? It’s becoming unbearable.” The other guy is usually too shocked to respond.
Unintentional Comedy: He’ll start critiquing the guy’s conversation topics. “She doesn’t care about your opinions on sports,” he’ll state matter-of-factly, as you try not to laugh.
The Comedy: If you ask if he’s jealous, he’ll scoff. “Jealous? Of that imbecile? Hardly.” But the tips of his ears are turning red, and you know he’s lying.
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yoyomomiko · 2 days ago
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☆ : They're jealous ×
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characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace
cw: jealousy (is that supposed to be a warning??), probably ooc, cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!
(a/n): This is like, my first time writing for one piece characters specifically😀 I'm barely in Alabasta but I cannot wait until I finish one piece so that I can write for it😔 ACE IS A NEED UGH -> m.list
★requests are open!!
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LUFFY
Luffy doesn't understand jealousy at first and will simply blurt out "Why are you talking to him so much?" without realizing it sounds possessive.
Believe it or not, he can get VERY possessive. You're pretty much just as valuable as his hat, you're his treasure.
That's right, his treasure.
So then, why are you talking to that donkey faced man? He's so ugly, why would you even bother wasting your breath speaking to him?
He'll cling to you like glue, throwing an arm around your shoulders or holding your hand tightly while pouting.
When Luffy's jealous he starts getting loud, making exaggerated jokes or showing off just to grab your attention.
Complains to the rest of the crew (probably Usopp or Nami), asking things like "Why does she want to talk to him when I'm right here?"
He completely interrupts your conversation with the other person by inserting himself, I just kinda feel like he'd do that.
WILL demand you sit next to him at meals and get grumpy if you sit by someone else.
He can't stay mad for long, the SECOND you give him attention, he lights up again as if nothing happened.
If the other person makes you laugh, he'll immediately try to one up them by doing something goofy, trust me, I know
He will casually lean on you or put his hat on your head as a possessive gesture (LUFFY THE MAN YOU ARE)
He's so childish
ZORO
Zoro acts nonchalant but is secretly FUMING inside when someone gets too close to you.
Glares daggers at the other person, making them incredibly uncomfortable without saying a word, he's just like that
Crosses his arms and stands near you as if silently asserting dominance (ugh I need him)
He gets extra grumpy with Sanji or anyone else he sees as competition, throwing insults their way.
He physically can't hide his annoyance and mutters things under his breath like "Tch, what's so interesting about him?"
If you laugh at someone else's joke he's gonna be like "It wasn't that funny."
I feel like he gets jealous if someone compliments you, but instead of complimenting you himself, he'll grumble like "You don't need to hear that from him."
WILL position himself between you and the other person, silently blocking them from getting closer.
I think he lowkey gets clingy after cooling down his jealousy, sticking close to you but pretending it's no big deal.
When you reassure him, he'll pretend it didn’t bother him, saying stuff like "Whatever, it's not like I cared." But deep down, he's RELIEVED.
SANJI
Lord have mercy
Sanji gets visibly jealous and is UNABLE to hide it with his dramatic reactions
He definitely calls the other person out immediately, saying things like "Why are you bothering her, huh?"
He tries to pull your attention back to him by showering you with compliments and affection.
He starts offering to cook your favorite dishes after that, just to make himself seem more worthy than moss head over there
If the other person is flirting, Sanji will step in and sweet talk to you SO passionately it makes the other person back off (simp power??)
He dramatically smokes while muttering "How could she look at someone else when I'm right here..."
Tries to outdo the other person in everything, just to show he's better
WILL ask you "Do you think he's better than me?" with puppy dog eyes
100% gets extremely competitive with Zoro (if it's him you're giving attention to) insulting him while trying to impress you
When reassured, he's back to his usual lovestruck self and saying "I knew you couldn't resist me, my angel!"
Sanji just wants to feel like he's your number one, and your affection always melts his jealousy away.
ACE
MY MAN UGHH
HE'S THE REASON I STARTED ONE PIECE IN THE FIRST PLACE
Anywayss
Ace tries to play it cool, but his temper makes his jealousy pretty obvious.
If someone flirts with you, he'll casually throw an arm around your shoulders and say "She's taken, by the way."
Speaking of throwing, he definitely picks you up and completely THROWS you over his shoulder. It doesn't matter how tall you are or how much you weigh, he ALWAYS manhandles you.
His freckles make it easy to spot when he's blushing out of jealousy or frustration (UGH😫)
He gets restless and starts fidgeting, for example bouncing his leg while watching you talk to someone else (is that my seat right there?)
Stares at the person with a smirk that doesn't quite hide his irritation, daring them to push their luck (you know that one scene in Alabasta where that giant scorpion was in front of him and Ace was like "I wouldn't if I were you" or something like that? Yeah, that's right🤭)
If someone compliments you, he'll immediately agree and add "Yeah, but I noticed that first."
UGH KICKING MY FEET😣
Can get surprisingly moody, muttering things like "What's so special about him, anyway?"
Might act a little childish, poking fun at the other person
WILL casually flex his strength or abilities if he feels the need to, like lighting a flame in his hand and saying "Bet he can't do this huh?"
If you reassure him or show him affection, he'll relax immediately, grinning and saying something like "Yeah, I knew you couldn't resist me."
And he's smirking at you with that stupid handsome face (I need him🚨)
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★yoyomiko ★miko
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retiredteabag · 21 hours ago
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Uncle sukuna
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〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Uncle Sukuna hates children and that just makes kids like him more.
They are practically magnetized to the man.
If he was being honest, he's really just afraid of hurting them, that and he has no idea how to handle a crying child. So, he avoids them at all cost.
Sometimes there's just nothing he can do though, especially when a little monster like his nephew is napping on his chest.
Which he does frequently.
Sukuna would be mean. Straight up telling the kid he was annoying. Yuuji would almost never care.
Almost.
“Don’t even think about it you little brat.” Sukuna would protest, seeing Yuuji crawling across the sofa. “Nu uh. No. Get your sticky little hands off of me!”
But eventually he would have to give in, rolling his eyes as Yuuji found his place- drooling over Sukuna’s shoulder.
Sukuna was also the type to say no and never mean it.
“Can we watch my show kuna?”
“No.”
Five minutes later? They’re smooshed together watching Yuuji’s stupid cartoon.
“Uncuna… can you help with my math homework please?”
“No.”
The next second Sukuna is in full tutor mode.
You might think that he’s the type to make a kid cry over their geometry work, but he is typically more patient than expected.
“Kuna can you make me some cinnamon toast?”
“No.”
“Pleaseeeee?????”
“No, Yuuji.” He’s firm.
Yuuji knows he’s getting that toast.
Sukuna has a love hate relationship with the kid. For Yuuji, it’s just love. That’s why, on the rare occasion, Sukuna might be just a little too rough on him.
It would likely be after a long day, maybe he worked late, maybe he had to deal with a rude person, maybe he didn’t sleep well. Whatever the case, the tattooed man would have an already short fuse when he walked in the door.
Unaware of his bad mood, Yuuji would flip around on the sofa, hearing the key turn in the door.
“KUNA!!!”
Yuuji would bound off the couch, racing for his uncle. Sukuna would sigh and roll his eyes as the boys grubby little hands encircled his leg.
“Kuna kuna! I had a presentation at school today! And I did a really good job because everybody clapped at the end like this-“ the boy smacks his hands together over and over, a big smile on his face, “I was so nervous but now that it’s all over, I wish I could do it again! It was so fun! I can’t wait for my next presentation-“
“Oh my gosh Yuuji will you shut up? I really do not care about your school project.” Sukuna would know the second it left his mouth it wouldn’t be true.
Yuujis little arms would fall away from his uncle. A frown would cover his face. “O-oh okay.” He would stumble back, watching his uncles face.
Sukuna would groan inwardly. Knowing he had been too harsh. He never actually minded hearing about his nephews day, he was just overstimulated and now he felt awful. The little boy was holding up a strong facade but his lip wobbled. The man would sigh.
“Ugh, Yuuji, I’m sorry kid, that was wrong of me-“
“No.” The boy would sniffle, “s’okay. M’sorry for making you mad.”
Oh, now Sukuna might as well walk into oncoming traffic.
He sighs, “No, Yuuji, you didn’t do a thing wrong. Don’t apologize for anything, alright?” He would run a hand through his cropped pink hair, “listen, I’m glad your presentation went well, that’s good, how about we go get dinner after I wash up, whatever ya want.”
Yuujis eyes would widen, a big grin coming back, “Yeah?!” Sukuna would sigh at the kids forgiving nature.
“Yeah, kid, I’m starved.”
Yuuji would bounce up and down, then, without a moment’s hesitation, throw himself around his uncles leg.
Sukuna would pat the boys hair, cursing himself for being so short with the kid.
And after being so annoyed just a second ago, after watching Yuuji race off to change his clothes, Sukuna realized he had forgotten what had ruined his day to begin with.
Cute little brat.
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zephswritingthings · 1 day ago
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“Well sure,” I nodded at the vampire. I’d dealt with enough of them to know that this one was new. Not fresh, those still smelled too much of grave and blood to do things like calmly walk into a stranger’s home. New though, new enough he didn’t know who I was. As such he didn’t notice when the slow grin I gave him had a few too many teeth. “I thought about getting one that said ‘be welcome’ but that seemed a little on the nose.”
“Dangerous thing, to live in a place like this and have a truly welcoming mat on your doorstep.” He gestured with my remote at the rest of my house. It was a little place, secluded by my half wild garden despite its place near the center of town. Perfect for my needs, perfect in theory for his as well. When he stood it was with the slow fluidity of a predator.
“Dangerous for whom?” I walked past him into my kitchen, laying down my basket on the counter and watching him stalk closer out of the corner of my eyes. I picked the green onions out of the pile, along with my wooden cutting board and knife. When I turned to face him he jumped slightly, sliding onto the bar stool at my kitchen island as if that had been his destination all along.
“Your door came unlatched when I shook it.”
“Sure did.” My smile hadn’t dimmed as I stepped up to the island with my board and got to work cutting the onions. “I’m making stew, will you be staying for dinner?”
“I don’t think we have the same definition of the word.” He was trying to match my grin now but his eyes kept flicking nervously towards my knife and the calm decisiveness with which it moved. Though perhaps it was my thin leather gloves that had caught his eye, or the way I hadn’t yet taken them off.
“Would you like to count the lentils before I put them in the stew?” I met his eyes and watched him flinch. Ah, one of the more classic of the lot then. I felt a thrill fill me. It had been much too long since I went toe to toe with one who wouldn’t immediately burn upon contact with the sun. “It may keep you entertained while you try to find vermin who will bow to your will.”
“Ah,” guilt flashed across his face. I’d caught him in the act. An act which I was well used to, too well used to perhaps. I had a deal with the vermin who lived in and around my cottage. A deal with me transcended any minor control a vampire may be able to wield over them. “I seem to have underestimated you.”
“Your ilk always do.” My smile changed, shifting to something closer to pity. I allowed my glamour to wash away as I added the onions to the pot that had been simmering all day. My ears lengthened and sharpened to knife points, the whites bled from my eyes, my pupils consuming all colour. Some things only changed slightly. My hair stayed in its long braid down my back, though it took on a metallic sheen. The overalls and loose linen shirt I wore stayed the same the dirt simply vanished. The extra joint in both my arms, legs, and fingers wasn’t immediately noticeable but they would be. “Since we’re being honest you should know a few things.”
He gulped visibly as I turned to face him. Neither breathing nor swallowing was actually necessary to vampires but old habits and all. If he’d had any blood in him it would have drained from his face. Instead I had to settle for the ways the whites over took his eyes and the skin tightened around his face. There are very few things in the world for vampires to fear. I count myself among them.
“My home is easy to enter, it will always be easy to enter, but only those with my explicit permission may leave. ” I spoke softly, the surety of my words needing no added volume. I ticked each point off on my long fingers. “You have trespassed with no intent of obeying the rules of hospitality. I am the shadow in the night, the thing humans whisper to their children to ensure good behaviour, and the thing that keeps the night hospitable.”
He tried to run. My sigh followed him down the short hall to the entryway. His shriek as he tried to open the door without checking it first sent a fire thrumming through my veins. It was truly a work of art, it had taken me decades to craft the perfect closure to my trap. Only a human would be able to open that door without effort and pain. A human or me, who knew its every secret. Despite that he was still scrabbling at the door with bloody hands when I reached him. He whipped around, pressing his back against the door in an attempt to get away from me and then hissing, whimpering like a wounded animal as his feet slipped out from under him.
“Another thing you should know.” I crouched in front of him, feet flat on the ground, every joint bent as I loomed into his space. He whimpered again. “You are a pathetic example of your ilk, but it’s not really me you should fear. I am not the reason so many fear the dark.”
“That’s us?” He whispered, voice cracking as though it didn’t want to do the thing he was asking of it.
“No.” A voice spoke from the shadows of my hall. The woman who stepped out of the shadow was dark in every place I was light. Midnight dark hair flowed loose down her back, skin the colour of shadows, but the shimmering moonlight of her eyes is what always caught my attention. Had for a millennia and I doubted it would ever stop. “That would be me.”
“My love.” I breathed the words even as I stayed perfectly still. Her hand ghosted over the back of my head, sending shivers down my spine, even as her eyes stayed locked on the trembling creature in front of me. “You’ve caught another treat for me in your beautiful web.”
“He’s still fresh.”
“I’m still alive!” His voice shattered on the word.
“You misunderstand the meaning of the word.” Her hand moved to his cheek, nails racking back into his hair. She pulled him to his feet as a litany of pleas fell from his mouth. I wondered if he knew what half the words even meant, I wondered when the last time he’d met someone stronger than him was. “I have feasted on children, on elders, on the healthy and hale, on those brought low by power or disease, I have tasted the original of the vampiir. You are fresh, they were ancient and full of power, you are full of potential. Sweetness?”
She turned to me as I straightened. I raised an eyebrow at her. It was unusual for her to stop mid rant.
“I will be back for supper.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my cheek. As she did her feet started to fade. I smiled and stepped away, I’d followed her into the shadows only once, it was an experience I did not wish to repeat. He started squirming in earnest as she stepped back into the shadows with him. In the shadows there were few and far between who would be able to hear his cries, and fewer still who would listen to them.
I went to stir my soup. She’d be more solid after her meal, and hungry for real food. I would have it ready for her. This was the nature of our deal. As long as I kept her and fed her she would never leave. The night would stay hospitable and I would be happy.
After a long day you come home and flick on the lights. Someone who looks to be a stereotypical vampire is fiddling with your remotes. Before you can speak, they simply say: “Did you know you have a piece of rug that says ‘Come right on in’ in front of your door?”
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trashogram · 17 hours ago
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Honey, I Shrunk
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Satan/Reader - Your man hates shrinking down to your size bc he’s already a little bitch
{Rated M forrrrrrr the whole point of this silly ficlet}
*~*~*~*
You sighed while leaning back on your elbows, and eyeing up your lover as he literally towered above you.
“Sweetheart, why do you have to make this so difficult?” You asked in a sugarcoated tone.
Satan huffed through his nostrils, smoke and steam billowing into a short lived fog that hung above you. He looked down at you with four narrow eyes as blazing as the sun.
“This is enough.” He replied.
His stony response had you looking nonplussed, eyebrows raised at the blatant lie.
“You’re still big enough to flatten a good ten city blocks, babe.” Another sigh left your lips, ignorant of Satan’s mounting agitation. “And I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for erotic trampling tonight.”
“Unless you’re going with this size so that… it can look smaller?”
The behemoth Sin lunged forward with a bullish snort, full of wrath as he bore sharp teeth twice your size at you.
“You say I’m the one making things difficult but it’s you who is never satisfied!” He roared, blowing back your hair with his hot breath.
The expression on your face didn’t change. Satan huffed and puffed while you waited patiently before exhaling:
“You good?”
Another horse’s whinny, paired with the grating sound of his teeth grinding together sounded before Satan quietly took a couple of deep breaths. You paused before changing tactics, sitting up and shifting onto your knees so that you could crawl over to the face of your darling.
You reached out to him with a gentle hand, palm cool and reassuring over his molten scales. With ease and tenderness, you stroked a line down his tapered snout, adding your other hand before you leaned in to nuzzle him with your entire face.
“I just wanna feel you, Satan.” You admitted, adoration pouring through your every word. “I wanna feel your body on mine. I want you to hold me in your arms and kiss me until I’m breathless.”
The draconian Sin’s pinpointed pupils crossed to peer down at you when you kissed his snout.
“I wanna feel your heat inside me,” You murmured. “When we make love.”
The full-body shudder that followed from your lover echoed through your much smaller frame before Satan nudged you back onto the bed. You brushed aside the curtain of your hair in time to see him slowly shrink down. He was still a great deal larger that you, able to overpower you with his brute strength alone. And his quadra-horns only added to that height —
You grinned as a flush ran through you when he moved to join your bed. He climbed over you, the bed springs groaning — but not breaking — beneath his weight as he caged you in with his thick biceps and broad shoulders.
“Brat.” He rumbled, rubbing his crotch against yours as he breathed into your parted mouth. “I’d never let anyone get away with your impudent requests. But I guess you’ll have to learn that the hard way.”
You could hardly reign in your moan as you heard his buckle being undone. As a distraction, your hands came up to rest against his pectorals, gliding over the thin yet silky maroon material reverently.
“Can’t promise I won’t enjoy the punishment, Your Honor.”
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dreamscapeee222 · 1 day ago
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hello!! may I request Arcane x reader where the reader has an invisible disability?
I have hypermobile EDS and I struggle with chronic pain and it would be cool to see that represented 🩷
A/n: I hope I've represented it well :)
You have an invisible disability
Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel
Masterlist
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Vi
Vi is fiercely protective by nature, and as soon as she notices the small signs—your cautious movements or moments of hesitation—she’d want to help.
"Why didn’t you say something? You don’t have to go through this alone," she’d say with a mix of concern and determination. Vi would adjust her habits to accommodate your needs without making a big deal of it. Whether it’s slowing her pace during walks or offering her arm for support, she’d always find a way to make you feel cared for. She’d also try to make you laugh when things are tough: "Guess you’ve got a built-in excuse to skip leg day, huh?"
Jinx
Jinx would likely struggle to understand at first—she’s not great with subtlety—but once she gets it, she’d dive headfirst into helping you feel better.
"You’re like, secretly a superhero, huh? Dealing with all that pain and still kicking butt?" She’d try to distract you from the pain with her antics or by crafting quirky gadgets designed to make your life easier. Sometimes, her energy might be overwhelming, but her heart is always in the right place. She’d take any negative comments from others personally, becoming your most chaotic defender.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would be incredibly observant, picking up on your discomfort even if you try to hide it. She’d approach the topic gently, giving you the space to share as much or as little as you want.
"Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine how strong you must be to deal with this every day." Caitlyn would quietly adjust her plans to accommodate you, making sure there are plenty of rest breaks or choosing activities that don’t strain your body. Her respect for your resilience would only grow, and she’d always remind you to prioritize your health, even if it meant canceling plans.
Ekko
Ekko would take the news with a mix of curiosity and admiration. He’s had his fair share of struggles and knows what it’s like to push through challenges.
"Man, you’re tougher than most people I know," he’d say, his tone filled with sincerity. Ekko would be proactive in finding ways to support you, whether it’s building a device to ease strain on your joints or offering a shoulder to lean on—literally. He’d also be great at helping you navigate the emotional toll, always reminding you of your worth and encouraging you to rest when you need it.
Jayce
Jayce’s reaction would be immediate concern followed by a flood of ideas.
"Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve built something to help!" He’d want to learn everything about hypermobile EDS, diving into research and brainstorming inventions tailored to your needs. While his enthusiasm might be overwhelming at times, his intentions would always be genuine. He’d also be your biggest cheerleader, constantly marveling at your strength and determination.
Viktor
Viktor would relate to you on a deeply personal level, having faced physical limitations himself.
"You shouldn’t feel the need to hide your pain," he’d say, his voice soft but firm. Viktor would approach the situation with practicality and empathy, offering both emotional support and potential mechanical solutions to ease your discomfort. He’d admire your resilience, often drawing parallels between your struggles and his own. "You are proof that strength comes in many forms," he’d tell you, his gaze filled with quiet admiration.
Mel
Mel would handle the situation with grace and compassion. She’d never make you feel like a burden and would be proactive in creating an environment where you feel comfortable.
"You endure so much, yet you carry it with such poise," she’d say, her tone full of respect. Mel would subtly advocate for you, ensuring others are mindful of your needs without drawing unnecessary attention. If you ever doubted your strength, she’d remind you of all the ways you inspire those around you.
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See pinned.
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lilbabybackwoods · 15 hours ago
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it’s too difficult
every day i wake up wishing i didn’t, or at least wishing things didn’t have to be this way
they said it would get better
it never did, i just got better at dealing with it
but now i’m tired of trying
now i just want to sleep
maybe in the next life, it won’t hurt anymore
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er1nne · 14 hours ago
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fix this
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⸝⸝⸝ ⑅ —໒ྀི ִֶָ rafe’s impulsive actions and failed attempt to fix things with a ignite a heated argument, leaving you feeling unseen and misunderstood.
word count 1.7k
warnings : yelling & arguments so angst but ends on a good note / fluff
AN: the problem is left ambiguous & left to the imagination so you can make up the problem, you guys loved the last one lol :) i have plenty more in the vault so let me know if y'all want them. enjoy!
(please do not copy or plagiarize, this is my original work subject to copyright)
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Rafe knows he’s in deep shit. He can tell he’s in deep shit. And he barely knows how he got here...nope he totally know how he got here.
The weight of it presses on his chest like a cinder block, a suffocating reminder of the mess he’s made. It’s the first thing he feels when he hears your footsteps stomping up the stairs on to the porch. The tightness in his stomach churns, and his hands instinctively find the edge of the counter, gripping it hard enough that his knuckles pale.
He rubs his hand over his jaw, rough and restless, staring at the front door like it might swallow him whole. It doesn’t. The door swings open, and there you are—eyes already blazing with fury, every bit of it directed at him.
You slam the door behind you with a force that makes him flinch. The sharp crack of wood echoes in the silence before you speak.
“I can’t believe you, Rafe!” you snap, your voice trembling, sharp enough to cut. “Do you ever think? Like, at all?”
The way you look at him—like he’s the worst kind of idiot—makes him stiffen, though he leans back against the counter, trying to feign some level of calm. It doesn’t work. He hates that look, not just from you but from anybody.
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he says, shrugging in what he hopes comes off as nonchalant. But his voice falters just slightly, betraying him. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say, even as the words leave his mouth. Way to put a foot in your mouth.
“Oh, my God.” You throw your hands up, your movements jerky, overwhelmed. “You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Of course, you didn’t. You never think!”
The accusation hangs heavy in the air, sharp and piercing. He runs a hand through his hair, yanking at the strands in frustration. There you go again. Can't you tell he's sorry. Why'd you have to go there of all places. Why’d you have to say it like that? “Alright, just—calm down for a second,” he says, his tone already edging into defensive territory. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”
“Calm down?” you repeat, and there’s a bitter edge to your voice that makes his stomach twist. “You think I’m overreacting?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he fires back, the words snapping out of him before he can stop them. His shoulders are tense, his movements jerky as he gestures vaguely between the two of you. “I’m saying I didn’t mean for it to be—whatever this is.”
You scoff, shaking your head as if the audacity of his explanation is too much to comprehend. “Unbelievable. You don’t even get it, do you? You don’t care how this makes me feel. You just do whatever you want, and I’m supposed to just—deal with it?”
“That’s not fair,” he says through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching as he pushes off the counter. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”
“But you didn’t care enough to stop and think about me, either,” you shoot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To know that I don’t even cross your mind when you make these dumb, impulsive decisions?”
The words hit him hard, like a gut punch he didn’t see coming. He exhales sharply, his frustration boiling over. He paces a few steps, his hands restless, like he’s trying to find an outlet for the tension coiling in his chest.
“Look, I—I’m trying, alright?” he says, his voice rough and strained. “I know I screwed up. That’s why I got you this.”
He gestures toward the counter, where an expensive box sits, perfectly wrapped with a crisp bow. It’s something he picked up earlier, certain it would fix everything. Now, standing here under your fiery gaze, it feels like a monument to his failure.
Your eyes flick to the box, then back to him, your expression darkening. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“What?” he says, his voice rising with confusion and a touch of defensiveness. He throws his arms out, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I was trying to—”
“It’s not about the damn gift, Rafe!” you yell, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your emotions. “This isn’t something you can fix with money. Do you think I’m that shallow? You think you can throw a couple of thousands at me and it'll make my feelings go away?”
Your breath stutters for a moment before continuing, “Do you think I’m like all the other girls you’ve bought? You can’t do that with me. You can’t just throw money at this and expect it to go away. You have to be a person—a human—with me.”
He flinches, the words cutting deeper than he cares to admit. “No, that’s not—I’m just trying to fix it, okay?” His voice rises in desperation now. “I don’t know what else you want from me!”
“I want you to feel something!” you snap, the tremor in your voice betraying the raw hurt beneath your anger. “I want you to stop throwing money at everything and actually care about how I feel. But I guess that’s asking too much.”
The accusation lands like a blow, and he’s left staring at you, at the tears brimming in your eyes. The anger drains from his face, leaving something raw and uncertain in its place.
“I do care,” he says quietly, his voice rough and uneven. “I just—I don’t know how to… do this.” His hands move in an awkward, aimless gesture, like the words he needs are somewhere just out of reach. His voice is low, almost a whisper. It’s the kind of vulnerability he doesn’t like showing—doesn’t know how to. But he can’t bring himself to look away from you as he peers at you with those icy eyes.
You scoff, shaking your head again, but you don’t storm out. He notices this, clings to it like a lifeline, grateful in a way he doesn’t know how to put into words.
“Look,” he says, stepping closer, his movements hesitant, cautious. His hands twitch at his sides like they’re drawn to you, but he doesn’t touch you—not yet. “I’m not good at this, alright? I screw up—a lot. But I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hate seeing you like this.”
Your shoulders sag, and for a moment, you look just as tired as he feels. “Then stop making me feel like I don’t matter,” you murmur, your voice softer now, but no less weighted. “Stop acting like I’m just… an afterthought.”
“You’re not,” he says quickly, his voice firm and insistent. He steps closer, his hands finally settling on your arms. “You’re not an afterthought, okay? You’re—you’re everything to me. I just don’t know how to show it sometimes.”
For a moment, you don’t respond. You just stand there, his hands warm and solid against your arms, the tension between you palpable. Then, slowly, you look up at him.
“I just need to know you’re willing to change, I need you to try...” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion.
The room feels smaller now, the space between you charged but quieter. His hand moves, almost hesitantly, until it settles lightly on your arm. “I don’t know how to do this,” he repeats, his voice rough and uneven. “But I want to. For you.”
You search his face, your gaze lingering on his eyes like you’re trying to find something—sincerity, maybe. And when you finally nod, your body relaxing slightly in his grip, it feels like the first breath he’s taken in hours.
“You better,” you say, your voice quiet but steady now.
“I will,” he promises. Rafe’s lips twitch upward, his own smile soft and unsure. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His arms wrap around the entirety of your body, holding you in his warm embrace like he never wants to let go. You feel his heartbeat against yours as the remenants of his anger fade away.
It’s not a perfect fix. Not even close. But as he holds you close, he feels like maybe, just maybe, he’s finally starting to understand.
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divider by @crazyfrm!
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joemama-2 · 21 hours ago
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velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 8564 tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: longer chapter woohoo, was gonna write after break but had so much inspo. wrote on my phone, so if there’s any typos, please ignore 🥹 series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter
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The nights haven’t been easy in the past couple of days. Mingled with a growing sense of anxiety added on top of your already heightened stress, your brain just can’t seem to shut off. You’ve tried melatonin and no more caffeine, but caffeine is ultimately getting you through the day and keeping you up when needed. In all honesty, you’ve already been struggling with sleep, but with the surprise meet with Suguru, dread’s been pooling in your stomach.
You have no doubt he spilled the beans. Hell, you would too if that was your best friend. You can only hope he somehow didn’t, though. A small part of you would be a little annoyed if he did, because again, he has no role in this. At least not a big one.
A sudden banging on your door jolts you upright, checking the clock and it’s not even 7:30 yet. Only one person could be demanding your presence so early. A heavy sigh leaves you, forcing your stiff muscles out of bed, wrapping yourself in a robe before trudging to the front door. When you peek through the peephole, your landlord stands there with an annoyed expression on his old face, foot tapping the ground in impatience.
“Bastard,” you mumble to yourself before opening the door. “Good morning, Mr. Sato.”
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Seems he doesn’t have time for fake pleasantries, “Y/N, I’m assuming you saw the eviction note I left on your door yesterday morning.”
Unfortunately. “Yes, sir. I did.”
His arms cross, scratching at his greying mustache, “So, is it also safe to to assume you’ll have the money by next Friday?”
You sigh heavily, hand running through your hair. This is not how you wanted to start your morning. He was already making your life hell by suddenly raising your rent out of nowhere three months ago for so-called “renovations”. But you’ve yet to see any actual renovations being done. Not to mention, you’ve been bugging about your heater no longer working, and during this time of year, you and Koji are practically freezing to death. You had to buy a portable heater, small, but it gets the job done. Although it’s mainly in Koji’s room because you’d rather freeze than let him. “Look, Mr. Sato, I’m really trying here. I’m working hard to get the money, but please understand that—”
“Understand? I’ve been understanding, Y/N. I even applied last month’s rent to this month, just ‘cause of you.”
Of course, he’s gonna throw that in your face. Landlords seem to take their title so literally that if he didn’t have this much control over your space of safety, you would’ve ripped him a new one. Also, how could you forget that to even get him to agree to that plea deal, you were forced through an hour and a half of an uncomfortable, infuriating dinner with the man. Really, he’s not giving you much to work with here, but then again, you shouldn’t have had such high hopes. “I know, I know,” you reply, scratching at your roots. “I’ll have the money, okay?”
“You better,” he says gruffly. “Or I’m renting this unit to someone who can actually afford it. I’m hurting here too, you know?”
You huff. “Yeah, thanks.”
Without another word, you close the door in the man’s face, locking it. Leaning your back up against the hard surface, you close your eyes and will yourself to stay calm and positive. Counting back from ten and then back, a small tip your therapist showed you before your insurance no longer covered it. It’s okay. It’s only the start of the day, you have 20 something hours left. Now’s not the time to throw yourself a pity party and play woe is me. Now’s the time to just pick yourself up and move on. You’ll find a solution for the money, you always do.
Though this time, you can’t help but feel you’re really fucked.
I mean, you honestly have no idea how you’re going to come up with almost four thousand dollars in just a week. That sounds quite literally impossible in every single way. You get paid next week, but with taxes, you’re going home with maybe three thousand, so how will you get that extra thousand?
Unless some miracle decides to hit you, which almost never seems to happen. You used to think someone hoaxed you, or you were just born with the most unluckiest luck ever. Or, the more cynical thought you tend to have, you were fated to live a life in strict financial management, and hardships are constantly thrown at you left and right.
But hey, you’ve made it this far, right?
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“No, I haven’t.”
“You what?!”
“I haven’t told him.”
“Y/N, what the fu–”
“Jesus Christ, I know, Hana. You don’t have to make me feel even more like shit.”
Your friend stops mid-way, eyeing your very displeased expression. She sighs and relents, slumping back in the small chair in the backroom of the cafe. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, letting your confession simmer and process. When she does, it’s an honest question. “But…why?”
Why. You feel like you’re staring to hate that damn word. “A lot of reasons, I know it’s not really justified, but I just…need someone to understand me for once. Not come at me for my dumb decisions.”
Your words feel bare and raw, not completely exposing the extent of the emotions you’ve been harboring, but enough to make her stop. Hana regards you with pursed lips, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Finally, she nods. “Okay, I won’t question you anymore. You have your reasons, and your reasons are always valid. So, I’m behind you on this. We stick together, remember?”
A hint of a smile forms on your lips, quietly thanking her. She comes forward to give you a hug, one you immediately reciprocate. Her auburn hair tickling your nostrils, arms seemingly tightening. “Don’t go holding things in anymore, I told you that. I’m here, to talk, listen, whatever.”
You and Hana met three years ago. She was just your co-worker at the time, now promoted to your manager. Although she’s two years younger than you, you two relate to a lot of things. Whether that be movies, food, what guys are hot, or alcohol. If anything, Hana might be your only friend in general. It’s a little sad, maybe, but at least you have someone to come to when you need to talk about adult issues your five-year-old wouldn’t be able to comprehend.
“I love you.” You find yourself muttering.
“I love you too, girl. Now, get out there, your break’s up.”
Jokingly scoffing and nudging her, you stand from the seat and do a quick stretch. Preparing yourself for yet another few hours of dreaded customer service and fake smiles, you walk out of the backroom, pushing the small curtains aside that separate the back from the counter, and clock back in.
“Cash or card?”
“Hello, how can I help you today?”
“Would that be all?”
“Have a nice day.”
Are all phrases any retail or customer service worker finds a little annoying, if not a lot. It’s so draining. And when the customers don’t greet you back, your pettiness shines through and you won’t even say have a good day to them when they’re leaving. Although, the job does have some upsides to it. For example, you get to make free coffees, take whatever pastries are left at the end of the day home, and the customers are never really bad. Of course, you have had a couple experiences, but nothing compared to a chain store. You’re even starting to use your customer service voice throughout the day, even when you’re not at work. Honestly, that’s not very good.
As you’re wiping up the counter, you feel a buzzing in your pocket. Taking your phone out, you see a set of numbers, an unsaved contact. You give Hana a quick glance, muttering a “just a sec”, before going back to the back to answer. “Hello?”
“Y/N?”
God, it’s gonna take some time getting used to his voice on the regular now. “Oh, Suguru. hey…uh–what’s up?”
There’s some shuffle on the other side like he’s adjusting the phone. “Are you busy right now?”
“Well, yes. I’m on the clock.”
He sighs, phone switching to his car output. “Where do you work? I’ll come now.”
“What?” you splutter out, head shaking. “No, Suguru, you can’t just pop out at my job. I’m busy, just tell me what you need right now.”
“I’m not sure I should.”
That statement alone scares you a bit. His cynicism always got on your nerves, but it also worried you from time to time. Most of the time, he didn’t mean any harm because that’s just how Suguru was, but it still did its job. Contemplation strikes through you. “Is it bad?”
He hesitates, which only further skyrockets your anticipation. “Honestly, it’s not too bad. But still, I need to talk to you.”
A breath emits from your lips, one you didn’t know you were holding. Eyes meeting the ceiling, you ponder over your decisions. Eventually, you come to a conclusion. “Fine, but it can’t be too long. I’m at Deja Brew, the cafe on–”
“On Express, got it. Be there in a bit.”
He’s hanging up before you even get a chance to question that he knew the cafe you worked at. If he did, surely he would have visited at least once, but you’ve never seen him come in. And you’re every day. Unless he usually comes when you’re not clocked in anymore. Anywho, you steel yourself for the inevitable conversation. Anticipating whatever bad or not-so-good news he'll give you.
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“So.”
“Mm, this is good.” Suguru nods appreciatively, sipping from his coffee. You made it for him before he arrived, as a weird sort of gift to him. You two have situated yourself in a booth in the corner. Hana was a little confused as to why you were taking a break while you were on the clock, even regarding you with an almost scolding look. But the second she saw Suguru follow, her expression changed.
You practically saw the heart eyes form, smiling in a bashful way. That’s one thing you forgot about. The way girls would magnetize themselves towards the man, his best friend too. The two together were an almost deadly duo.
“Suguru,” you say, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “Please just…don’t stall anymore. Why did you want to see me?”
“Right,” he clears his throat, sitting up straighter. Once more, his steely gaze meets yours, you have to hold back the sudden urge to look away. “Like I said, it’s not terrible news, but not very good either.”
You nod, wanting him to just stop with the extraness and get to the point. “Okay, say it.”
“Satoru.” is the first thing he says, gauging your automatic grimace to his name. “He knows.”
Figures. “And you told him?”
He nods in response. You exhale, rubbing your face. “Suguru, why? I didn’t say you could.”
“I mean, I didn’t think I needed permission to tell my best friend he has a secret love child he hasn’t known about for five years, Y/N.” You hate when his voice gets like that, like you’re a school child who’s just been caught by her teacher for doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “Anywho, he knows. He wasn’t…very happy.”
You slowly ask, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer. “What did he say?”
“More so what he did than said,” he pushes a stray strand of black hair out his eye and behind his ear, arms crossing. “He’s been quite easy to anger. I mean, I haven’t really talked to him because he’s not answering my calls, but I’ve been hearing from people at the office. He also kicked my ass out right after I told him. But that’s all I know at least, Nanami says he’s like a ticking time bomb.”
Jesus Christ. You don’t know what else you were expecting, you’re surprised he hasn’t done worse, but like Suguru said, that’s all he knows. His state is most likely a hundred times worse than what’s being thrown at you right now. You feel an intense guilt pool, mixing with a slight fear. “Did he…do anything else? Say anything?”
“I don’t know, he’s not talking to me right now.” Suguru concedes, leaning closer to you, brows furrowing in a seriousness. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel worse, but I should let you know. He’s going to try and seek you out now that he knows about his son. You know that, right?”
Of course, you fucking know that. That’s what makes you scared, the possibility of somehow running across him in the most unsuspecting of places makes you want to stay holed up in your shitty apartment. “Yeah,” you gulp. “I figured.”
“I don’t know how he’ll react if–when–he does see you.” he honestly admits. “I just think you should reach out to him first, before he does it. I have his number, you should ca—”
“Stop.” you hold a hand up, eyes closing. “No more, I don’t want to be told what to do. I just…need some time processing everything right now.”
“Y/N–”
“Suguru,” your eyes open, staring at him dead on. “You seriously can’t expect me to jump from one thing to the next. I need fucking time to figure out what I’m gonna do. I’m already stressed as it is, now I have to worry about my son’s father possibly trying to reach out and that just sets me more on fucking edge. You come to my work, spring this on me, and I–” you’re rambling. Cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence, choosing not to finish it. The last thing you need to do is rant to him. Besides, you’re just starting to see him again after seven years, that would absolutely put him in a weird place between comforting someone who was once his friend, and backing up his life-long best friend.
You jolt a bit when you feel a warm palm envelope your hand, his thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. Looking back at him, he gives you an all too familiar look. One that can make you just pour out everything you’re feeling right at that second. It’s a horrifying technique he has. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like shit. I should’ve been more considerate. I’m sorry.” He apologizes with a soothing intonation. Again, it’s making you feel warm. “It’s a hard situation, I could never know exactly what you’re going through. but…I care about you, Y/N. I always have, even without Satoru’s involvement. So, I’ll do better and not overwhelm you.”
Damn it, Suguru. Now you’re making me feel bad! Not trusting yourself with words, you meekly nod, slowly pulling your hand out his grasp. You miss the way his eyes dart down to his now empty grip, a small downward twitch to his lip that he expertly hides. “I should go back to work, I’m assuming you do too.” You stand on wobbly feet, giving him one last lingering gaze. “On the house, by the way….yeah, bye.”
Suguru watches you disappear behind the curtains, a small pit expanding in his gut. He pushes it away without thought, sighing to himself as he stands and exits the cafe. He walks down the sidewalk to his blacked out 2025 Mustang GT parked on the street. Getting in with a heavy head that’s full of all kinds of emotions. Some he doesn’t try to acknowledge, but the ones he does, it’s all worry and concern. He really doesn’t see how this situation can somehow turn around. Maybe you two will have a very mature and calm conversation when you cross paths.
He almost laughs to himself when he begins driving. Calm? Mature? Yeah, right. How do you have a calm conversation about hiding a kid for five years? Not to mention, you and Satoru are equally stubborn; it used to be so infuriating for him.
Suguru had patience, a lot of it actually. But you two tended to test that. Although, he would always forgive one of you the quickest. Cough, cough. You. It was like you had this weird thing about you that made the people around you just…like you.
His grip tightens on the wheel, biting his lip. He gets to a red light, thumb tapping on the material. Damn it all.
There’s a ringing that emits from the car’s speakers, looking at his touch screen to see the familiar name. Using this as a distraction, he answers. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Shoko’s voice sounds out. “Where are you? Thought you were paying for my lunch.”
He huffs, eyes rolling, and moving the car forward once the light turns green. “I never agreed to that.”
“Sure you did,” Shoko replies, exhaling a breath. She must be smoking. “Anyway, hurry up. I’m already waiting outside. I thought Satoru was coming, is he gonna be late again?”
Yeah, no. “I don’t think he’s coming anymore.”
“Why not?” Shoko asks.
Suguru exhales heavily, turning the street towards the meet-up spot with his friend. “Some shit happened, I don’t think he’s doing good.”
Shoko pauses, adjusting her phone in hand. “What happened?”
Suguru too stops, completely forgetting how Shoko has no idea about what has transpired in the past couple of days. “I’ll tell you when I see you.”
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Satoru has never been surprised before, not technically. He’s a smart man with quick instincts and a good foresight, it’s like he can always tell when something is going to happen, before it happens. Even for birthday parties, his perception and people reading skills are great, he knows when someone’s lying or not telling the full truth.
In short, he knows a lot of things.
But, what he didn’t expect was for 1) even hearing your name ever again after the breakup, and 2) you have a son, his son. A son he had not one goddamn clue about. The only person who’s ever been able to throw him off his game is you.
Even back when you two dated, there were moments where you’d either say or do things that would make him pause for a second and think how unlikely that was of you. He knew you’d lie sometimes, small white lies weren’t foreign to him because he did it too. But, he never thought you’d deliberately keep something like this from him.
And to top it off, if Suguru never saw you by chance that day, would you have ever even told him?
Now that really fucking pisses him off.
When Satoru is mad, everyone else’s day is ruined. When he’s mad, you can see it in his face, his body, how he’s just barely holding himself back. It’s even more scary when Satoru is known as the laid-back, playful and unserious type of man. So when he’s mad, almost no one in the office wants to make him even angrier, let alone be around him.
He’s barely slept a total of ten hours within the past two days, mind keeping him awake. He’s trying to not imagine the image of you holding a boy who looks like him because he’s already broken one too many pairs of glasses and the thought alone makes him infuriated. He sees a blinding white flash of betrayal, hurt, confusion, and anger.
He doesn’t mean to take it out on his employees, but their feelings are not on his list of priorities.
He has a son.
A son who’s five, apparently.
Five whole years of being kept in the dark, not even being blessed with a smidge of information about his offspring. While he was off fucking women, having fun, dreading about taking over his father’s business, you were god knows where, changing fucking diapers and losing sleep. And for what? Were you that fucking scared to tell him?
Oh, he’s so going to rip you a new one when he sees you.
But, he’s still not sure if he wants to do that. Afraid of what might happen, he’d rather not blow up on you, but can you blame him if he does?
He just found out he has a secret love child from a woman he knew years ago and know he’s expected to act like everything is normal in this boring fucking meeting?
Not to mention, if his father finds out, he’s not sure what will happen. If anyone else finds out, for that matter. If anything, he needs to get a reign over this messy situation before he’s allowing anyone to know.
“Mr. Gojo? What do you think?”
At the sudden mention of his name, he snaps back into focus. Eyes flickering over to the bald-headed man who currently stands in front of the table of other withering men, the screen projector displaying a multitude of different statistical data. The man falters slightly, his grip tightening on the laser pointer as Gojo’s eyes land on him
Shit. He has no idea what they were even talking about. “About?” He clears his throat, appearing nonchalant, though the tight hold on the ballpoint pen says otherwise, the faint click of it opening and closing the only indication of his simmering irritation
The room feels colder, quieter.
The man clears his throat nervously. “The expansion plan... into the Asia-Pacific region. Whether you think it’s viable in the current climate.”
Gojo leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his pen continues its faint, rhythmic clicks. His expression is unreadable, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he lets the silence stretch a moment too long. “And you need my opinion on this?” he says finally, his tone polite but tinged with condescension.
The bald man shifts on his feet, adjusting his glasses. “W-We... wanted your insight, given your, uh, experience overseeing the European division.”
“Right,” Gojo says, dragging the word out just enough to make the man squirm. He tilts his head, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, if I’d been paying attention, I’d probably say something about how overly cautious you all seem to be. But that’s just a guess.”
The bald man blanches, stammering, “O-Overly cautious? We’ve taken every factor into account—”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Gojo cuts in smoothly, his voice softening just enough to disarm the growing panic in the man’s voice. “I’m just wondering if maybe all those ‘factors’ are holding you back. Are we leaders, or are we playing it safe like everyone else?” His eyes flicker briefly over the rest of the table, daring anyone to challenge him.
The bald man hesitates, then nods quickly, his nervous energy palpable. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Mr. Gojo. I’ll revisit the projections to—”
“No need,” Gojo interrupts again, flashing a faint, humorless smile. “I trust you’ll figure it out. Unless you think I shouldn’t.”
The man practically trips over his words in an effort to assure him. “No, no, of course not. I’ll make the adjustments immediately.”
“Perfect,” Gojo says, the finality in his tone dismissing the topic entirely. He shifts his attention to the projector screen, the numbers and graphs blurring together as his thoughts drift.
The room eventually moves on, the hum of conversation resuming. But Gojo doesn’t miss the quick glances from across the table, the subtle unease lingering in the air.
He taps the pen against the table, his jaw tightening. It’s taking everything in him not to snap, not to let the weight of the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a filthy fucking person seep through the cracks.
Let them sweat. It’s the only thing keeping him entertained today.
The minute the awful meeting of ifs and hesitant decisions is over, he’s pushing out his chair, being the first one to leave the haunted room. It’s a bad mistake on his end, because his secretary, Aiko, is on his ass. “Mr. Gojo, your father is waiting for you in your office.”
Great, as if things couldn’t get any fucking better. He holds back a remark, gruffing out. “For?”
“He didn’t say, sir. He just wanted me to tell you to see him as soon as the meeting finished.”
He really, really doesn’t want to see his father right now. The two were too alike, constantly butting heads which only ended in a harsh set of insults being tossed around, mingled with occasional threats of “never passing the company down to someone as idiotic as you”. His father is bluffing, of course. He has no other person to pass it down to, with Satoru being the oldest and only son of his father’s. His long legs easily lead him to the doors of his office, to which he hesitates. Taking in a big breath, before opening the doors and closing them soon after. “What is it?” he asks, walking over to sit in his chair, leaning back comfortably.
His father, Yamato Gojo, the current CEO of the Gojo Group, who sits leisurely on the black leather coach stands up to position himself across from his son. Arms crossed and the permanently etched frown on his face. “Why didn’t you come to the dinner yesterday? There were very important people there you needed to meet. I texted and called you.”
Why didn’t he go? Can he really just say “sorry dad, I was stressing about this shithole I’ve found myself in”. No, he can’t. Instead, he shrugs and brushes his father off. “I was already busy.”
“Busy with what? What’s more important than networking?”
“A lot of things, actually.”
Yamato dislikes that answer quite a lot, frown seemingly deepening, regarding his son with another usual disapproving look. “Satoru, this is serious. They were expecting you and you embarrassed me. I won’t let this happen again, when I say you need to be somewhere, you be there. No if, ands, or buts. You’re pissing me off.”
How ironic of him to say that considering he’s having the exact same effect of Satoru. He isn’t scared of his father, hell no. But he does know to pick and choose his battles. And with the way his mind is completely scrambled right now, he forces himself to intake a huge breath of air. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll be there next time. Happy?”
“Only after you prove it.” Like father, like son. Satoru hates how his father always seems to want to get the last word in. But his father hates how he does the exact same.
Throughout the entirety of his shift, up until he clocks out of work and walks to his designated parking spot which houses his white 2025 Mercedes-Benz SL-Class. Driving back to his high rise penthouse on autopilot, his thoughts zeroed in on one person only. Or well, two people.
Satoru wasn’t ever sure he wanted to be a father. He knew it was expected of him, but so many people had such high expectations of him, it became exhausting. Too exhausting. Does he even have a right to call himself a father to a child he never knew, a child who probably doesn’t even know him?
His right hand reaches for his phone, calling a number without taking his eyes off the road. It answers on the first ring, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to respond. “Do you know where she lives?”
There’s a falter, hearing Suguru’s deep breath come out on the other end. “No, I don’t. And nice to hear from you too.”
“I don’t have time for your sarcasm right now.” He stops at a red light, using his left hand to rub the crease between his furrowed brows. “Do you know anything? Her number? Where she works? Where did you see her so I can go over?”
“Satoru, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to go meet up with her again. You’re obviously not in the right mind space and I don’t want you two to—“
“I’ll argue with her all I want, I have that goddamn right to.” Satoru grits out, interrupting his friend before he has the chance to spew out more shit he’d rather not listen to right now. “Answer me.”
In Suguru’s mind, he knows if he gives Satoru even the tiniest bit of information regarding your whereabouts, he’ll storm over there and probably say things he doesn’t mean. Satoru tends to think emotionally in very dire situations, a bad habit of his. Still, although he knows his best friend should be angered by this situation, Suguru doesn’t want to involve himself. More than he has. After speaking with you, he’s come to the conclusion that you’ll reach out to Satoru soon. Considering the fact that he already knows. “I don’t know, I saw her at a grocery store, but she was just shopping.”
“Fuck,” Satoru groans, moving his car forward again. “Well how the hell do I—“
He’s cut off by a small vibrate to his phone, a message. When he looks down, the screen is overtaken by a new call coming in from Himari. Honestly, she’s the last person he wants to talk to right now.
“What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, after noticing the small beat of silence from the other end of the phone.
What isn’t wrong? “Gotta go, call you later.”
“Sat—“
Satoru ends the call, picking up the new one. “Hey.”
“Baby,” Himari’s light voice fills his ears, sighing in relief. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at the mall but the tires of my driver’s car popped.”
He’d rather not, but Satoru has found out that it’s been quite difficult to say no to his girlfriend. So, he puts his own internal and external battles to the side, making a right turn and exhaling. “The mall?”
“Yes, baby. Thank you so much.”
He hums back in response. “Be there in ten, wait outside.” Once again, he hangs up and a suffocating silence fills his car. Hands tightening around the wheel, he reels himself in with a big inhale, then exhales. He can’t show these sorts of emotions in front of the woman, for she’ll no doubt question and question about what’s wrong, which will then lead to an argument. He doesn’t need arguments.
As Satoru sees the mall in the distance, he’s overrun by the sudden determination. The determination to find you and meet his son.
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“Just one more question, Koji. Then let’s eat dinner, how does that sound?”
The young boy groans in annoyance, the math work of simple addition problems laid out in front of him. He hates math, almost as much as you, excelling in other subjects like English and Art. “But Mama……” he drags the words out in a childish manner.
Plating two plates of tonkatsu chicken with curry, one plate smaller than the other, you turn to your son who now has a pout on his face. You resist the urge to pinch his cheeks. “You can do it, you did the other ones so well.”
Sitting next to him, you look over at his workbook. Just one more problem. It’s a problem consisting of three numbers, 5, 23, and 6. Simple in your eyes, but a disastrous monstrosity in the eyes of a five-year-old. “Mama will help you, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.” Koji grumbles, reluctantly grabbing his red pencil again.
Times like these you cherish. Sure, it’s mundane and not very exciting. But it’s the little things that matter most to you. Helping your kids with homework, helping them learn to ride a bike, tie their laces, it’s all wonderful experiences from your perspective. Proof of the fact that your chubby little baby isn’t very little anymore, growing into his own person. Although, the more he grows, the more he’s starting to resemble his father. It’s scary at times, when he looks at you and you get random flashbacks.
Eating dinner and washing up is another thing you love. After such a hectic day, you just want to unwind with your son. You had put in your PTO for the convenience store a month in advance; after a particularly hard month. Finishing at 5:00pm, like most people do, is a breath of fresh air.
You let Koji tire himself out in the tub, then the living room, to which he has Cars playing (his favorite movie at the time). He plays with his own small set of matching cars, while you sweep the kitchen. Your eyes flicker over to your phone that lays face up on the island, a bubbling sensation forming in your being, one of contemplation. You wonder to yourself, would you call Satoru? You know his number by heart, he most likely hasn’t changed it.
After the breakup, you cut off all contact with him and his friends, even choosing to get a new phone and new number, just to avoid any possibly drives of texting him, or to avoid him texting you. You quite literally wanted to erase every memory about him.
Kinda hard to do that when you’re raising his carbon copy.
After another blind minute, you pause your sweeping and grab your cellular device. You’re about to grab Suguru’s business card from your purse when a sudden question hits you.
How was he able to call you earlier at work if you had never given your number to him in the first place?
Your brows knit together while you come up with any possible solutions and reasoning to that thought, coming up blank. Seriously, how did he call you? Without thinking, you go to your recent calls, pressing the first one, and raising your phone to your ear.
It rings for about a second, before Suguru’s coaxing voice follows. “Hello?”
“How did you get my number?”
“What?”
“How did you get my number? I didn’t give it to you at the store.”
You can practically hear the way he’s trying to formulate an answer. Coming up with a shitty one. “I just…guessed.”
You say nothing, your eyes narrowing on a certain spot on the blank white walls of your kitchen.
Another second passes before he gives in, too easily. “Okay, okay. Look, I don’t want to sound creepy or anything but—“
“Were you stalking me?”
“What?! No! Of course not, Y/N. I’d never do that.”
“Then tell me how you got my number without me telling you.”
He sighs. “…I have a friend. He’s in the law enforcement and I…may have asked around. But before you get any ideas, I was worried. You just fell off the face of the Earth and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You can’t stop the huff that leaves you. Should you feel complimented that he went out of his own way to do all this or invaded? Maybe both. Honestly, you did that all for a reason. And he blatantly went behind yours, probably everyone’s, back to get some information on you in a shady way. Isn’t that illegal or something? “Suguru, when people do that, it doesn’t mean they want to be found.”
“I know, Y/N. But I was worried, so was Shoko and Satoru—“
“Does he know my number too?” You ask, already feeling your panic run up your veins, boy straightening into a stiff position.
“No, no, he doesn’t. Just me.” He quickly relieves you.
You guess that’s somewhat better. Although you still feel mildly annoyed at Suguru for what he did. “Is that all you know?” The way he doesn’t respond immediately makes you feel even more frustrated, jaw clenching.
“I….” He lets out a heavy breath. “No, it’s not.”
“What else do you fucking know?”
He winces at your now harsh tone of voice, though he knows it’s all expected. “It wasn’t on purpose, I just wanted your number, I swear. But when you’re looking for that kind of stuff, other things pop up like…address and…yeah.”
If only he could see your expression right now. “You know where I fucking live?”
“Yes, Y/N….”
Okay, now your privacy is very invaded. You have never really gotten angry with Suguru, let alone get into an argument. He always knew when to stop, what not to say to make someone else feel worse, but did he just get fucking dumb after all these years? “…are you serious?” You know he is, not even giving him the chance to answer your rhetorical question. “Fuck you, Suguru. I can’t believe you—you completely—I don’t even know what to tell you right now.”
You can hear the guilt in his voice, tone softening. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I had the best intentions, I was never going to visit you or call you without your specific permission to.”
“Did I give you permission to call me earlier?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Exactly.” With another scoff, you bite your lip, picking the correct words to voice out. You wouldn’t say you’re a word vomit person, usually. But right now, you just feel…slightly weirded out. All this time, you thought you had solitude. But Suguru knew where you were this entire time? “Goodbye, Suguru.”
“Y/N, wai—“
“Don’t. If I need you, I’ll tell you. But right now I don’t want to speak to you.”
He pauses, feeling his gut tighten. Nonetheless, he nods and mutters. “Okay, I’ll give you space. Just please know I’m sorry and I really didn’t have bad intentions.”
Seems like this is the second time today he’s apologizing to you. You don’t like it. Without another word, you end the call, putting your phone back on the hard surface of the island. Jesus Christ. What the hell is going on, seriously?
One minute you’re stressing about getting evicted, then you have to worry about Satoru somehow running into you, and now you find out Suguru has just casually known your address all these years. Why is all of this deciding to be sprung on you all at once? Out of no where? The world must be punishing you for every unholy deed you’ve done in your life; it really doesn’t seem fair. At all. Can’t things just go right for once in your life? You just want to go at least a day without external stressors fucking you over in every way possible.
Of course, you’re unlucky. That’s just how things have always been for you. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, and you’re the punchline to every cruel joke. The thought of Suguru knowing your address sends a cold, uncomfortable shiver down your spine. What else does he know? What else has he been hiding?
The questions swirl in your mind, each one more suffocating than the last. You sit down heavily on the edge of your worn-out couch, its cushions sagging beneath you as though they, too, are tired of carrying your weight. You bury your face in your hands, the skin of your palms rough against your cheeks, and take a deep, shaky breath.
Satoru (and Suguru). Their names alone bring up a storm of emotions you can barely keep bottled up. You’ve worked so hard to keep them, and everything they represent, in the past. Yet here they are, forcing their way back into your life like unwelcome ghosts.
You glance at the stack of overdue bills on the coffee table, mocking you with their bold red lettering. As if you didn’t already know you were drowning. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting the tide.
You watch Koji focus on the bright screen, moving his toy cars in unison with the movie. Willing yourself to worry about the now, to convince yourself that you’re not done, that there’s still some fight left in you.
However, that seems to be proving harder each and every single day.
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It’s a chilly, but sunny winter day. The sidewalk filled with other people going about their day. You’re wearing a black trenchcoat, along with a scarf. Hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat as little puffs of white air leave your mouth, a stark piece of evidence of how cold it is today. The heels of your shoes clacking down the concrete, making your way to the familiar cafe of Latte Lounge.
Saturdays are supposed to be happy days, a final breath of fresh air after the business of the weekdays prior. The day where people enjoy Mother Nature and what she has to offer, a day of sleeping in, a day of no responsibilities.
A woman like you has no Saturdays. It’s like every day is a cold, hard Monday.
You finally spot the cafe, its large, glass windows giving you a sneak peek to the liveliness that resides inside. Of course, most people do choose to go to cafes on Saturdays. Especially this early in the morning. Walking in, the small bell above the door dings. The workers behind the counter greet you; while you give them a half greeting back, your eyes scan the environment. It takes a few seconds, but you see Mr. Ito sitting at a table for two in the corner.
You prepare yourself with a heavy sigh, forcing your feet to maneuver you over to the man who smiles and stands once he sees you approaching. “Ms. Y/N, good morning.”
“Good morning.” You’re a little caught off guard when he takes the empty seat from across from him and pulls it out, a silent move of help. Sitting down, he pushes your chair in then walks back over to his own. He laces his fingers together on top of the table. “Get whatever you’d like, on me, remember?”
“Oh, I’m not very thirsty right now.”
“No, please. It’s my pleasure, especially for meeting with me so early this morning.”
A part of you wants to deny his niceness. But, he did cause you to lose money you could’ve still had to spare if you didn’t have to call in Sana to watch Koji. And well, coffee always makes you feel better. “Just an iced vanilla latte.”
He nods and stands up. “Great, I’ll be back.”
Watching him go up to the counter and order, you look back down at your lap. Koji misbehaving sounds odd, he’s always been an obedient kid. Of course he has his moments, but he understands when to listen and when to goof around. A few minutes later, Mr. Ito sits back down with two cups of coffee, sliding yours over to you. You thank him and sip. Hm, not too bad.
There’s a small silence that flows over you two as you taste your coffees, but you wait for him to speak first. He did schedule this little meeting, after all. He clears his throat. “So, Ms. Y/N, again thank you for meeting with me.”
You nod. “Of course, Mr. Ito. Anything for Koji.”
Mr. Ito smiles, his hand waving you off. “Oh please, call me Haruto.”
Already trying to get on a first name basis. Simply nodding again, you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.
“Anywho, like I said earlier this week, I have concerns about Koji’s behavior. You see, he’s had about six instances where he doesn’t listen to me when I say it’s time for silent reading time. I understand he’s a talkative child, but he usually does not act out like this. Would you happen to have any idea as to why he is behaving this way so suddenly?”
“No, I don’t. Koji listens well, and he hasn’t come to me specifically about getting in trouble.” You respond, lips pursing.
Mr. Ito nods in understanding. “I can assume so, but his behavior has started affecting his peers, as well.”
You sit up straighter in your chair. “In what way?”
“Well,” Mr. Ito tilts his head, seemingly recounting the times Koji has misbehaved. “The students who sit around him have started coming to me, complaining about how Koji doesn’t leave them alone. They feel as if he’s taking away from their learning.”
What? Not to mention that that sounds quite…interesting for other five year olds to say, but no way Koji has been that bad. Maybe it’s your bias as his parent, but this is brand new to you, very brand new. Even when he’s home, Koji always insists on doing his homework before playing or eating dinner. So really, you’re not sure how to react to this surge of new information about your own child. “I really don’t know, Mr. Ito. I mean, Koji is a great boy, he listens very well to me and the other adults in his life. I’m just as shocked as you are right now.”
Mr. Ito leans back in his chair, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not doubting your parenting skills. Koji’s clearly a bright and energetic boy. Maybe too energetic for some of his classmates to handle.” His tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent there, something you can’t quite place. “It’s possible he’s just seeking attention in ways that might not be obvious at home.”
You nod slowly, though his words don’t sit right with you. Koji doesn’t come across as attention-seeking at all. If anything, he’s a bit reserved until he’s comfortable around someone. “I’ll talk to him tonight and see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mr. Ito says, his smile deepening as he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. The movement feels deliberate, like he’s closing some invisible gap between the two of you. “You’ve always struck me as a very attentive parent.”
The compliment lands awkwardly, and you find yourself straightening your back again, instinctively pulling away from his lingering gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Ito,” you say curtly, steering the conversation back to its purpose. “I just want to make sure Koji’s doing well and that his behavior isn’t affecting his classmates.”
“Of course,” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “And I’m here to help however I can. We could even set up regular meetings if you’d like, to make sure we stay on the same page about Koji’s progress.”
“That won’t be necessary,” you say, your polite tone edging into firmness. “But I do appreciate the offer.”
His smile falters for a brief moment, but he quickly recovers, leaning back in his chair as though he hadn’t just been testing the waters. “Understood. Please, don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything. My door is always open.”
You nod, feeling a distinct shift in the atmosphere—one you’re eager to step away from. “Well, are there any other concerns I should know about, Mr. Ito?”
He looks like he wants to say more, but decides against it. “No, Ms. Y/N. None at all, thank you for coming out.”
“Thank you for the coffee, have a nice day.” You reply, wasting no time in standing up, grabbing your drink in one hand and bag in the other. Though, his voice speaking again causes you to stop.
“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Ito’s voice stops you just as you push your chair back. You glance at him over your shoulder, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “I really hope I didn’t come across as too forward earlier. I’m just...invested in making sure Koji has everything he needs to thrive.”
You offer a polite smile, settling the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Of course, Mr. Ito. I appreciate that.”
He smiles, but there’s a pause before he continues. “It’s rare, you know, to see a parent as involved as you are. It’s refreshing.”
The compliment makes you pause, and you clutch your coffee cup a little tighter. “Well, Koji’s my world,” you reply simply, brushing off the remark.
“As he should be.” Mr. Ito leans back in his seat, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his own drink. “But I imagine that must get exhausting sometimes, especially since you seem to handle everything on your own.” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, as if he’s inviting you to confide in him.
You blink, his words catching you off guard. Is he fishing for something? “It’s not always easy,” you admit cautiously, “but that’s just part of being a parent.”
“True,” he says with a small nod, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long. “Still, you shouldn’t hesitate to lean on the people around you when you need to. It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”
You stiffen slightly, unsure how to interpret his words. They seem innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flickers toward you feels... calculated. “I manage just fine, thank you,” you reply, keeping your tone light but firm.
“Of course,” he says smoothly, raising his hands slightly as if to placate you. “You strike me as someone who handles things with grace. It’s admirable.”
You glance at your watch, eager to end the conversation. “Well, I should get going. I’ll talk to Koji about everything we discussed.”
“Of course.” Mr. Ito stands as you do, his smile as steady as ever. “Thank you again for meeting me. And...if you ever want to talk more, even just about life in general, I’d be happy to listen.”
His words hang in the air for a moment, and you force another polite smile. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.”
“I can walk you to your car, I’m heading out as well.” He quickly suggests.
You shake your head almost instantly, smile feeling more narrow. “No need, thank you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“But I—“
“Thank you again, but I really must go.” You cut him off, feeling your patience run thin and the desire to be cordial and polite stretching too much. You nod stiffly and turn around to briskly walk out the cafe. However, just as you do so, you collide into something, or someone.
Your open-lidded coffee fumbles a bit in your hand, quickly steadying it. Though it does manage to stain the white shirt of the person you just bumped into. Just great. You hold back a wince and apologize. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t—“
Your words leave you, your breath feeling like it’s been stolen straight from your chest. Every hair on your body stands up straight, your heart falling straight to your ass like you’ve just hit the biggest drop on a rollercoaster. You know that feeling when you question if something is real or not, pleading with yourself and every deity watching that it’s not? Well, that’s exactly how you feel right now.
It feels like a spotlight has been shone on you without your consent and you suddenly want to throw up. Because as your eyes have moved up to profusely apologize to the stranger, a bucket of water filled with nostalgia and past memories drowns you.
The bright blue, unmistakable irides stare back down at you. A million memories play on repeat, but one thing’s for certain.
The past has never felt so close, and you suddenly want to erase it all and scream.
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a/n: the dreaded reunion is here! thank you for reading and the tremendous support! <3 stay tuned for next chap, sorry if yall thought these two were boring, chapter 3 will be getting more into it
taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins @sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited @duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee @devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts
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visionsofyouandme · 2 days ago
Text
it's golden (like daylight)
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𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Winter is coming, bringing loneliness and shorter days. But Joel still finds he values the daylight (and you) through it all.
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 13.6k
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Afab!reader w she/her pronouns (but no physical descriptions), fluff, slow burn, pining!Joel, Jackson!Joel, post-outbreak, soft!joel, swearing, some physical violence (not against reader), age gap or no age gap- you decide!, POV switching, alcohol consumption, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), praise kink, Joel talks you through it, p in v sex, apocalypse BC method (pulling out), aftercare. Happy ending! (Moodboard for vibes and vibes only)
𝙰/𝙽: Well, here it is! The full-on, real deal. If you think this is familiar, it's because I originally posted parts 1 & 2 on my other blog, @queeneamidala but this is my new, improved, and SOLELY writing blog. I'm so excited to share the full thing with you guys. This is my first full length, finished fic in so so long. I would love any and all feedback- comments, likes, reblogs, you name it! Anyway, can't wait to share this lil journey with ya'll. Hope you enjoy <3
Read here on AO3 !
Joel was eating idly in the cafeteria when he heard Ellie’s voice. He glanced back, and noticed her talking to a woman he had seen around the town of Jackson. She was a friend of Tommy and Maria’s, he knew that much. Hell, a friend to everyone in town but him, it seemed. Granted, he hadn’t spoken a word to her, or opened the door to conversation in the first place. Some would say it was out of shyness or fear, but really, he just felt unworthy of her attention. 
She was beautiful, but that was just a general observation. 
You were beautiful, and he had come to this conclusion several times while passing you by in town. He had noticed you speaking to nearly every person in town. You had a very easy-going air about you, friendly. Open. 
So, he steered clear. Forming personal connections outside of immediate family was not something he was keen on. He has had a life fraught with grief, seen and done unspeakable things. He wasn’t meant to be loved, not after everything he’s done.
But the way you talked to Tommy, and now Ellie more and more often had Joel at an uncomfortably close proximity to you. Your presence was drawing near, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
He sort of didn’t want to stop it.
But, just when he thought you were going to approach the table to sit, you broke away from Ellie and walked to a different table. He felt something drop in his chest. Was that really, really disappointment that he felt?
“Makin’ friends?” Joel questioned as Ellie sat down, and she snorted.
“Why? Jealous?” She said with a smirk, and Joel cocked up an eyebrow. 
“You could use a friend.” Ellie added, and Joel shifted a bit uncomfortably.
“I don’t need anyone.” He said into his food, and Ellie made a face, rolling her eyes.
“Everybody needs at least someone.” 
Joel’s eyes shifted to you sitting at the table just across from them. Your smile was radiant, and he felt something twist in his chest.
No
He wasn’t meant to be loved.
~*~*~
Winter was coming, and the people in town were preparing. You were busy but still managed to make time for people. For everyone, really. Joel was almost envious about how easy you talked to people. He didn’t have the same talent, but he was fine with that.
So, one day, when he was called upon a house to help with some faulty wiring, he was taken aback when it was your house he was called to.
You didn’t need help. Not really. You were fairly self sufficient, and made your own way through town. Joel knew this, and it made him nervous when you called upon him specifically to make sure you were prepared for the wintertime. 
But, he took his toolkit and went to your place. The door was open, but…
You weren’t home.
He felt disappointment in his chest again. He shook it off though and walked to the side of the house outside. He opened the box and began to work diligently, his mind wandering to other things. But he tried to fight off the thoughts of you and how disappointed he felt when he found out you weren’t home. However, they just kept coming around again, and again, and again.
“You look so serious.” A voice said, and Joel jerked back like he had been electrocuted. His head swiveled to the side and he saw you standing there, leaning against the side of the house with your arms crossed. You looked so effortless and cool, and-
How long had you been standing there?
“Job’s gotta get done.” Joel said, gesturing to the box, “as you requested.”
You nodded, and a smile creeped into your face that he hadn’t seen before. He had seen you smile plenty of times- laughing and talking with the people in town, with Maria, with Ellie. But this felt different. Or was he just imagining it?
“Yeah, you came highly recommended.” You said, and Joel scoffed, turning back to the box and tried to get back to work. But, he was horrible at multitasking, especially when it came down to you distracting him by your presence alone.
“Don’t sell yourself short. Ellie was insistent that you were the best the town had.” You said, and Joel lost his concentration and nearly dropped the screwdriver he held.
Christ, I’m gonna kill that girl. 
He furrowed his brow like nothing happened and kept working. He was definitely going to talk to Ellie later. The last thing he needed was the whole town to be depending on him for maintenance.
But for you…? Well, it wasn’t so bad.
“Sorry I wasn’t there to receive you. Work held me up.” You said, gesturing behind you. Joel finally flicked a switch and the box buzzed to life. He felt himself deflate a bit. Guess it was time for him to go.
“No worries.” He said, putting his tools back in the toolbox and stood straight. He held the box in hand, and regarded you with soft brown eyes. You pushed off the corner of the house, and smiled that bright smile of yours.
“You… let me know if there’s- if there’s anythin’ else.” Joel said, trying to keep it drawn out but it sounded rushed to his ears. He nodded minutely and you stepped out of the way.
“Thank you. It means more to me than you know.” You said, and shifted, your shoulders brushing by accident. Joel simply nodded, and made his way home.
He rubbed his arm after a few minutes of walking, trying to savor the warmth blooming under his skin.
~*~*~
Tommy and Joel were sitting at The Tipsy Bison, talking over a few drinks.
You had requested Joel’s help two more times now. Both small and trivial, but Joel was more than happy to help. You weren’t there the second time he came, but when he was there the third time, you offered him coffee. He was an idiot, and turned you down. But, that smile never wavered.
“Next time.” You said. 
Next time, Joel thought. There was going to be a next time? He hoped so.
“I see you’re helping some people out. Good for you to get some socializing in.” Tommy noted after taking a sip of his drink. Joel shrugged,
“It’s fine, I guess. Just doin’ my part.” He said. Tommy nodded, and regarded his brother with a peculiar expression. Joel felt like he was plotting something, but didn’t have time to really think about it before a voice pulled him from his thoughts. 
“Well, you two look like you’re having fun. Mind if we cut in?” Maria questioned, and Joel barely looked up, until it registered in his mind.
We?
You settled into the seat beside Joel while Maria took the one by Tommy, boxing the boys in. Joel instinctively stiffened, and hoped you didn’t notice. If you did, you didn’t show it.
“What are we drinking tonight, boys?” You questioned, and Joel glanced at you. He cleared his throat, looking down, and held up his glass slightly.
“Whatever they’re trying to pass off as whsikey.” He said, and you looked at him. He felt like a deer in the headlights, watching you look at him. It felt like time was suspended, and he gulped. But, you smiled like it was nothing and turned to the bartender.
“I’ll have what he’s having.” You said, jutting your thumb at Joel. The bartender slid the glass into your hand with ease. Joel thought everything you did was effortless. You certainly made it seem so.
It dawned on him that Tommy and Maria were knee-deep in their own conversation, promptly blocking off you two. It felt intentional, causing Joel to be put on the spot, under your eye.
“Thanks for all your help by the way.” You said, taking a sip of the amber liquid. Joel nodded, his brown eyes casting down to his glass.
“Anytime.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand. It wasn’t lost on you that Joel was slowly becoming a bigger part of the community. He wasn’t just keeping to himself, but helping others with house repairs or such. You hadn't seen him offer such services until you had reached out to him. 
But, he didn’t do it for them. He knew that deep down inside. 
He did it for you.
“I gotta say, Mr. Miller, you’re an enigma.” You said with a light laugh. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, and felt his stomach lurched at you saying his name, even if it was his last name. “You know; a mystery, something hard to explain.”
“I ain’t no mystery.” He said, shaking his head. You grinned, and tilted your head to the side. Joel felt his mouth go dry, so he took a sip of his drink to quell it.
“Okay, okay.” You said, shrugging and turned your gaze across the bar. He felt your elbows becoming achingly close. If he just shifted just slightly, he could feel you against him. 
“Mind if I stop by tomorrow?” You said so abruptly that it threw his thoughts off.
“Sorry?”
“I got Ellie a new book. Something about space and aliens and shit. Something I think she’d like.” You said. Joel felt a twinge of appreciation there. So, somebody was looking after Ellie besides him. He liked that. It warmed his hardened heart. 
“Sure. You can drop it off.” He said, and he stole a glance your way. You were grinning, but trying to hide it. You took a sip of your beer to try to mask it, but he could see the way the corners of your lips quirked up. 
“I’ll be there then.”
~*~*~
Joel had waited for you for a day or two. He found reasons to stay home, claiming he wasn’t feeling well, that he was sick. So, when you finally knocked on his door towards the end of the second day, he was surprised to find you holding a dish in your hand as well as the book.
“Heard you weren’t feeling well. Made you a little something.” You said so casually. But, Joel was floored. You heard about him, and went out of your way to do something for him?
He felt bad for faking his illness. But, the fact you did this? It flooded his chest with gratitude, and an ache that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
“Thank you.” He said, and went to take it but then paused. You laughed,
“I don’t care about getting sick. Here.” You said, and handed him the dish, barely crossing over the threshold. He took it gingerly, and looked down at it. Whatever it was, it looked damn good.
“Do you… would ya want to come in?” He offered. You suddenly beamed, and god, if that wasn’t a sight to see. Joel thought there wouldn’t be anything better in the world.
“Sure.” You responded, and Joel moved to let you inside. As you passed, he could smell your soap, or personal scent- whatever it was, he felt lightheaded in the best way. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen, you following him along.
“I also have the book. Hope Ellie’s not too mad it took me so long.” You laughed and set the book on the kitchen table. Joel walked to the other side, setting down the dish.
“‘M sure she won’t mind.” He said, and his eyes shifted to you. You and all your beauty, your kindness, the way your eyes smiled even while you were sharing a passive look.
“Do you want some coffee?” He questioned, and there he went, sounding rushed again. He just wanted you to stay, to share you sunlight with him just a bit longer. You had a knowing smile, and nodded gently.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” When you agreed to it, he got busy. He nearly knocked off the mugs off the counter trying to prepare everything. You sat at the table, and glanced down at the book. Joel looked back to see your attention on something else other than him, and felt a little more at ease.
“I got a patrol coming up.” You said, and Joel poured the dark liquid into one of the faded mugs. He turned and carried it to you at the table, sitting across from you.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. They switched up my partner, though. Hannah isn’t feeling well, so they put me with someone else.” You said, and he could see for the first time something else in your expression- anxiety. Fear. 
He didn’t like it, to see you facing such emotions. He wished he could wrap them all up and throw them away. Whatever it took to see your smile again.
“Who’ya going with?”
“Jim Harris.” You replied with a nod, and Joel sat up a bit straighter. He didn’t like Jim, he always came off as loud and imposing. He didn’t have the best reputation when it came to women, either. He was rude and disrespectful, and there had been some complaints about harassment made against him. 
“I see.” He said. Why did anyone assign you with Jim Harris, of all people? They knew of his ways and his complaints. The last thing they needed was to put him with you, all while alone. 
No, he wouldn’t stand for that.
“I’ll get ‘em to switch things around. I’ll go with you.” He said, and nodded with finality. You looked at him, a bit surprised if not shocked. 
“Oh. You really don’t have to-“ But he waved you off.
“I can get some strings pulled so you won’t have to deal with him. Besides, I just… I can’t stand someone like him being near y-” but he paused, and tried to recover before he could say something stupid. “ It ain’t right.” He settled, his fingers gripping the coffee mug a bit tighter at the thought of Jim laying even a finger on you. You looked at Joel, the shock really settling in now. Joel was unaware of the gravity of his words in the moment, something he would regret later. Not that he said them, but that he hadn’t said more. 
“… Thank you.” You said quietly. Joel looked at you, and felt his chest bloom with warmth. Your words, though short and few, were filled with gratitude and relief that didn’t go unnoticed by Joel. 
“Anything you need, darlin’.” He said, the name rolling off his lips before he could stop himself. You smiled, and Joel would have given you the moon right then and there if you asked.
He cleared his throat as if it would clear the air, and he visibly relaxed. Knowing you would be under his care and away from Jim Harris’ whole being made him feel better. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a strong need to be by your side when the time for patrol comes. It just felt right that he would be there to protect you.
“A true southern gentleman.” You mused as you took a sip of your coffee. Joel’s face flushed, and he averted his gaze, and began to speak but you cut him off.
“I like it.” 
Joel felt the ghost of a smile on his lips, and he glanced at you, shrugging.
“Old habits die hard, I guess.” He said, and rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel his hair curling under his fingertips as he did so. He needed a haircut, and sorely.
But, the town was lacking a barber, so he figured he would do it himself one of these days. 
“A good habit to have.” You said, and he chuckled.
“Whatever you say, da-“ but he quickly cut himself off and hurriedly spoke your name instead. You smiled, regardless of what he called you. He found he liked saying your name. It felt personal, more grounded to reality. He was having a hard time grappling with reality ever since you crossed the threshold of his home. He couldn’t believe you were here, in his kitchen, drinking his coffee. He wanted this moment to last as long as time would allow- he would commit it to memory. Every word, every glance, every piece. 
He found he did that often with you- just taking in any bit of you you had to offer, when he was feeling brave enough. 
“I gotta get back.” You said, and stood up, rubbing your hands together to conserve the warmth of the coffee mug. Joel stood up, and nodded hurriedly, though he already felt the air grow cold in the absence of your presence.
“Of course. I’ll… I’ll walk you out.” He said, and stood up as well. He walked with you to the door at a snail’s pace, and you talked about your work for the rest of the day. The walk was all too short, and Joel’s hand rested on the doorknob. He looked at you, his brown eyes taking you in before he released you back to the world. 
“Take it easy. I’ll see you on patrol. Okay?” He said, and you gave him that gut wrenching smile. Could have brought him to his knees if you so desired.
“Sounds good, Joel.” You said, and he opened the door, the chill coming in as you wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself. You smiled and gave him the lightest wave, and headed out into the cold Wyoming winter.
He watched you go, and his name still hung in the air. Despite the door being open, the cold sweeping in, he felt warm. 
Oh, he was such a goner.
~*~*~
Joel trudged to the outer part of town, gun slung over his shoulder. He promised he would meet you at the edge, where they traded out patrols. He had been busy with other things that day, and felt horrible that he couldn’t walk with you. But, he knew that a few hours alone with you would make up for that. 
At least, that’s what he hoped.
He came up and saw Tommy standing with a few others, talking indistinctly. When Joel approached, Tommy and the others turned. As they did, the group opened up and he could see you standing on the far side. Your face quite literally beamed up when you saw him. 
“Ready for another shift?” Tommy chuckled as Joel came up closer. “You’ll have to show the new girl all the ropes.” 
You rolled your eyes, but your smile was still evident on your face. Joel nodded, and he couldn’t help it as his lips quirked up on the ends when he met your eyes. This wasn’t lost on you, or Tommy for that matter. No one had seen Joel so much as literally turn his frown upside down, not even in the slightest. So, this was an interesting event for all involved.
“Well, no time like the present.” Joel said, and nodded forward. You bid goodbye to the others and walked with Joel across the town lines into the woods. He could sense your unease, and he glanced down to see a pistol on your hip.
“You know how to use that?” He questioned. You looked over at Joel and followed his gaze to the gun at your side, and then looked forward quickly.
“Unfortunately, yes.” You said. Joel frowned, but said nothing. 
As you two reached the outpost where you’d be staying, Joel let you climb up the ladder first. He followed shortly after, his head swiveling around for any signs of life that weren’t supposed to be there. When he was safely inside, he closed the makeshift door and sat down next to you.
It was cold inside. Almost bitterly so. Joel was fine, having his heavy jacket and several layers. He had done this before, so he came prepared, especially in the colder months.
You, on the other hand, were miserable. Not expecting it to be *this* cold, you were wholly unprepared for the coldness that seeped into the wooden outpost about 12 feet off the ground. You sat on the chair and crossed your legs to conserve warmth, shoving your hands between your thighs to keep them from freezing. 
Yeah, this was gonna be a long shift. 
Joel, ever vigilant, noticed that you were shifting uneasily. But, his thoughts ran elsewhere besides the cold. Were you afraid of him? Was this awkward? Did he make a mistake taking over Jim’s shift with you? Was this overstepping some invisible boundary?
But then, you spoke,
“Can’t believe it’s this fucking cold.” 
Your voice trembled a bit, and he watched you closely. His eyes softened a bit, and he took in your form. Yeah, you weren’t nearly as bulked up with layers as him. He set his gun down on the floor, leaning it against the window sill. You looked over at him, and it dawned on you very quickly about what he was about to do.
“Joel, don’t-“
“Can’t have you freezin’ on me, sweetheart. Won’t do much good if you’re an icicle.” He said, and shed his large jacket. Before he knew what he was doing, he stood and draped it over your shoulders. You sat still as he did so, and the warmth flooded you almost immediately. He sat back down, and your face was flushed with red. You cleared your throat, looking down at your hands.
“Thanks.” You said quietly. Joel nodded, like it was something he’d done a million times. He shifted his gaze back to the landscape that sprawled out in front of you.
You sat in a comfortable silence, and you eventually threaded your arms through Joel’s jacket. It smelled of cedar and musk, and you had always wondered what he smelled like. It felt as though he were enveloping you in a warm hug. You wondered if he ever did that sort of thing.
“When did you come here?” Joel questioned after a few minutes. You were surprised at his initiation of the conversation, but certainly not mad about it. 
“About 8 months ago. Came from a QZ in Georgia after it fell apart.” You replied. Joel looked over at you, and you continued to look out of the outpost.
“Escaped with a group of good people. We tried to find someplace else, someplace safe. It was one of the hardest things I had to do. Lead them to safety, after my husband died.” You explained, and Joel’s chest twisted. He had never noticed a ring on your finger, but he could see a faded outline of where one used to be.
“But, keeping everyone together was hard. Death followed us everywhere- Clickers, disease, bad food, water. The world seemed to pick us off one by one.” Joel shifted his gaze to outside. He could tell you hadn’t spoken about this often, and he could sense a tremor in your voice. 
“Eventually it was just me, wandering the woods. I felt hopeless, without purpose. I began to go kind of… well, insane. I don’t know how long I was out there til Tommy found me. Took me straight to the infirmary where they had to basically take care of me until I was able to be on my own two feet.” You said, and looked down, your hands clasped tightly together so much your knuckles turned white. Joel was stoic, unmoving, but his presence felt comforting. You didn’t know why you felt so comfortable with him, so you didn’t stop from going on.
“I’ve done some… terrible things. I’ve- seen so much… death. Coming here, it was a saving grace. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself much longer had they not found me.” You said. Joel’s heart dropped at this revelation, his eyes were soft with empathy. He knew all about hopelessness, about wanting to give up. About not having anything or anyone to live for. His finger traced the scar on his temple lightly before quickly dropping his hand in his lap. 
Had Ellie not come into his life, he would have taken the easy route out, and not missed that time. But, he just hated that you felt like you had to do the same. That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve to feel like that, not with how caring and kind you were. Not with how you literally made people’s days light up at the sound of your laugh or your smile.
It just wasn’t fair, this world you both lived in.
“I feel like I try to do good things to make up for all the bad I’ve done.” You added, though your voice was so small and quiet. Joel knew that feeling all too well.
“I’m sorry.” Joel could only say, and you looked at him to already see his eyes on you. You smile, but this one was sad, weak. You shrugged, and sighed deeply,
“It’s life, isn’t it? It’s never easy. But, the small things make it better. Good people, especially.” Joel noticed how your smile deepened a bit, and he could see that glint in your eyes. He nodded, and couldn’t imagine you would rope him into the “good people” category. But, he also saw your face, and how you looked at him, that maybe you did. 
And it made him feel… nice. 
“Yeah, the good ones. Few and far between. But, they exist.” He said, his eyes looking between your own. 
“I think there’s good people here.” You said, nodding forward. “You’re good people.”
And Joel, without knowing it, smiled. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t teeth-showing, but it was a smile. One that betrayed him immensely, but he couldn’t stop it now. Even though he disagreed, he couldn’t voice it. Not to you. He couldn’t go against anything you said, it would feel like a personal crime.
“So are you. I hope you know that.” He said, and reached out to take your icy hand within his own. You looked at him, studying his face as you gripped his hand back. 
And to Joel, the world just got a little bit brighter.
~*~*~
“Where are you going?” Joel said as he sat on the couch in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table. Ellie stalked past him to the door, and looked over her shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Out.” She said, and stormed through the door. Joel sighed. Teenagers.
He sat, listening to the crackly turntable in the corner. It played an old jazz record he borrowed from the library. Not his true cup of tea, but it was better than nothing. He needed to trade some other old ones in for new ones, but he had listened to the whole library by now.
He felt at ease for once. He played the time spent with you on patrol over and over. After your conversation, you spoke of happier, better things. Old baseball legends, old music, basically a throwback of pop culture before the world went to shit. You told him a funny story about your job that actually drew a true chuckle from him. He just felt… better around you. Your easy going demeanor and openness was enough to make him want to share with you. Share smiles, laughter, time together. 
And god, he loved all three when it came to you.
The record clicked to signal its ending, and he stood up, walking over to turn it over. Just as he put the needle down, there was a knock at the door. 
He walked to the door and opened it, seeing you standing there before him, looking chilled to the bone. He gestured for you to come inside quickly, and you shuffled in, huffing into your hands.
“What the hell ya doin’ out there in the cold for?” He said sternly, more concerned than upset, eyebrows furrowing. You shrugged, crossing your arms.
“Wanted to see you.” You said, and his jaw clamped shut.
Well. Okay.
He stood, like an idiot, in silence for a moment, before nodding minutely. 
“Make yourself at home. I’ll make coffee.” He said, and hurried to the kitchen. Even though it was nearly 7 in the evening, he needed time to process what you said, and that you were here to see him. 
You felt more warmth in Joel’s house than your own, and shed your boots and jacket, hung up the latter and walked to the couch. Sitting down, you tucked your feet under you to make them warm again. You looked around, trying to find the source of the music that was playing. You saw the record player in the corner, and smiled fondly. Of course Joel was a music guy, it just made sense. 
He walked back to the living room with two cups of steaming coffee, and walked to the couch. He sat down on the far side, giving you space, but leaned over to hand you the mug. 
“Got somethin’ on your mind?” He questioned as he took a sip. You took a hefty gulp and felt the warmth move down your throat and into your stomach. You were beginning to feel again, from your head to your toes. You felt less like an ice cube and more like a human, now.
“Just… wanted to see how you were doing. Been busy these last couple of days, I feel like I’ve neglected my friends.” She said with a light laugh. Joel’s eyebrows shot straight up, and he smiled small. Joel didn’t have friends. He had family. But, he would make an exception for you.
Maybe one day, you’d be family, too. 
He liked the idea of that.
“Ellie tells me you’ve been working like crazy, too. People are starting to like you. You better watch out, cause the ladies already fawn over you as is.” You laughed, and Joel regarded you with an unconvinced expression. He didn’t think anyone noticed him, let alone “fawn” over him. He just did his work, day in and day out. He was unaware of the “extra attention” he was drawing from the female crowd.
He didn’t see them, because he only saw you.
“Never noticed them. Didn’t think anybody noticed me.” He said simply, taking a sip of coffee. You shook your head, and smiled into your coffee.
“I noticed you. Always have.” You said, and Joel’s eyes shifted to you as you sat across from him on the couch. He found himself getting closer and closer to you. Not physically, but emotionally. The comfort level was at a steady pace. He wanted to be sitting closer to you, to feel your body heat and drink in your comforting presence. 
“Well, it’s hard not to notice you, darlin’.” He said. You blushed, and hid your face in your mug as you took a sip.
Joel was a man of few words. He was never good at them, never entirely graceful or eloquent. But now, he wished he was. He wanted to tell you how he felt, how much he cared, how much he really liked you.
But, he just didn’t know how. 
And he hated himself for that.
“What are you listening to?” You teased after a few minutes of silence, a saxophone filling the air. Joel wracked his brain to figure out who the artist was. 
“Louis Armstrong, I think. Jazz is the last genre I haven’t listened to at the library.” He said. You raised her eyebrows, then knitting together. And then, you laughed. 
“Never would have pegged you for a jazzy guy.” You said, and began to laugh. “Country, maybe. But- but smooth jazz? God.” You covered your face to keep the laughing tears from escaping you as your body shook with giggles.
Normally, Joel would frown upon someone laughing at him. But, it was you. He was making you happy, making you laugh- 
Now that. That was true music. 
“Yeah, well,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m full of surprises.”
“Yes, yes you are, Joel Miller.” You said, lowering your hand and looking over at him. He looked down at his mug, his pinky finger tapping against the edge lightly.
He wanted to find a reason for you to say his name again. And maybe again. He just wanted to hear you speak about anything under the sun, that would be enough for him. 
“Tell you what, Joel,” you said, and shifted on the couch to face him, leaning your elbow along the back of the couch. He shifted as well, turning his body a little towards yours. “You tell me a story, and I’ll tell you a story.”
“A story?”
“Yeah, fictional or true. I don’t care- I just…” you said, and silence followed. Joel waited patiently for you to finish. His heart was hammering in his chest, but on the outside he was calm and collected. 
You shrugged, and looked at him with a light smile. You didn’t have to say it. Joel knew. You knew. You just liked each other’s company, you liked the sound of each other’s voices. And it was becoming more and more apparent to the both of you.
“Alright.” Joel agreed, and your soft smile turned into a grin. He took a sip of coffee, and thought for a moment.
“I got one for ya. Not real, but a good story. Ever heard of the movie Smokey and the Bandit?”
“No.” You laughed. 
“Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna tell ya all about it.”
~*~*~
The minutes turned to hours that night. You left sometime around midnight. And then you were back two days later, and the conversation struck up again. It turned into you two alternating between each other’s houses. Patrols got more frequent for you, and Joel was insistent that he go with you, not anyone else. 
Joel continued helping around the town, fixing broken things but keeping to himself when he wasn’t with you, Ellie, or Tommy. Ellie was making friends, and would visit them often, leaving him alone most evenings. 
But there was you, there to fill his time and capture his attention.
You were sitting in Joel’s living room one evening, the fire crackling in the fireplace to offer more warmth. You sat next to Joel, closer than ever before, your coffees already consumed and empty mugs sitting on the coffee table. 
Joel’s arm was slung across the back of the sofa instinctively, and you enjoyed the close proximity. Your knee brushed his every so often, leaving you both wanting more. But, things like this take time, and Joel was a gentleman. He wouldn’t press anything, too afraid to mess up whatever relationship was forming between you.
“Jim Harris approached me the other day.” You said, and Joel’s hand clenched at his side. Ever since he took over patrols with you, it seemed Jim was trying to find ways to confront you, but not Joel. Joel wondered why, as he was the one to change things up when it came to patrols. He guessed Jim thought you were an easier target. 
“He wanted to talk. I was in the middle of running food to Mrs. March’s house, she’s got a sick kid. I waved him off, but it still felt… weird.” You said and sighed, rubbing your forehead in thought.
“Other people have been acting weird lately, too. They ask about you a lot.” You added, and Joel looked towards the fireplace. While no one outwardly approached him, he could sense some of the womenfolk asking him to come around more often. Simple, almost dumb fixes. Some of them looked like self sabotage, and he was beginning to get his suspicions. He may be old, and sometimes oblivious, but it was getting more apparent that he was being eyed by several of the single (and sometimes even married) women in town.
Joel had seen the occasional man talk to you. They often leaned in to you as they did, or leaned against a wall or building post, trying to come off as cool or suave. You always smiled and talked cordially, not wanting to make any enemies. Some of them made you laugh, and that definitely didn’t make Joel feel jealous.
“Do I need to give a good talkin’ to to anyone?” Joel questioned, and you laughed, shaking your head.
“I think that would make things worse than better. But, I appreciate it all the same.” You said, your hand patting his knee. He glanced down, and your hand lingered for just a second longer than he anticipated, before you drew it away and back into your lap. 
“You know I’d do anything for ya. I’m not above roughing up somebody, so long as they leave you alone after.” He said, looking down to his lap, and you smiled lightly. You looked at him, and your faces were close. Closer than they had ever been before. Joel could feel the softness of your breath against his skin, and he felt his heart thrumming in his chest. 
He could feel the tension in the air, and could feel your gaze on him. He wondered what you were thinking, and raised his eyes to meet yours.
You had never seen brown eyes so dark, so beautiful, so…
The door was then wrestled open, and Ellie walked inside. She made a face at seeing you and Joel so close, but closed the door behind her. You wanted to move, but you felt Joel’s hand touch your shoulder lightly, subtly inviting you to stay.
“Tommy’s asking around for you.” Ellie said, kicking off her shoes and it made Joel flinch. He sighed, and his arm swung from your shoulders. He stood up, his knees cracking slightly, and silently cursed his older age for catching up with him.
“What’d I tell you about the shoes?” Joel said firmly to Ellie, who rolled her eyes and picked them up, setting them by the door and made an ‘okay?’ gesture. Joel looked over at you, who stood up and grabbed the coffee mugs.
“Duty calls.” You said, and smiled lightly as you carried the mugs to the kitchen. Joel sighed, and walked to the front door, pulling on his jacket and boots. You came out quickly after, and Ellie plopped down on the couch where you two had been sitting, picking up her book from the far side table. You looked as you passed, and tilted your head to the side.
“City of Ember? What’s that?” You questioned, and Ellie sat up, her eyes lighting up, and she grinned.
“One of the coolest books ever. It’s about a civilization underground, and…” she began rambling about it, and opened the book to show you the chapter she was on. You smiled, and looked at Joel.
“I’ll catch up with you later.” You said, and Joel couldn’t help but soften at the event unfolding before him. You walked over to the couch and sat next to Ellie, and she eagerly told you about the book. Joel held the doorknob, and just watched for a moment. 
It was at times like these that he felt like the future was a little bit brighter for him.
~*~*~
“You’re going soft, old man.” Tommy joked at the bar one night. The snow had come and blanketed the town with white, and there was talk of Christmas celebrations. The town was much more merry than Joel had ever seen it. Or maybe, Joel was just feeling… well, maybe he was feeling a little bit of everything. Everything seemed brighter and warmer, even despite the cold weather.
Joel said nothing to Tommy’s remark. He kept quiet, his eyes always finding their way back to the doors of the bar. He was waiting, hoping, wanting.
And when you walked in, he felt his chest loosen for the first time that day. Tommy followed Joel’s gaze, and then back to his brother.
Suddenly, all the talk around town made sense. Tommy had his questions, but he knew his brother wouldn’t give them willingly. Joel never confided in anyone. Except, it seemed, you. 
The talk of the town was that you guys were screwing. Only because you two were alone quite a lot. And at night, for that matter. People talk, it’s a small town, and people get jealous. Rumors swirl, and things are said. Joel had been picking up the pieces, but tried to be the bigger person. It wasn’t anybody’s business as to what you two were behind closed doors.
But, instead of making your way to the bar where Joel sat, a form stepped in your way. 
“Jim.” You greeted, and could smell the alcohol on his breath, as he was that close to you.
“Been trying to catch you at a good time.” Jim said, and you feigned a disgusted look. You, like much of the other women in town, did not like Jim. 
“Well, now’s still not-“
“Come on, just give me a second. If you can make time for that ancient asshole over there, then you can make time for me.” He said with a cocky air to him, and you tried to step around him, but he stepped with you.
Joel’s fist tightened at his side, and he pushed his beer to the side, beginning to rise. He felt a protective air come over him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching. Tommy clapped a hand on Joel’s arm,
“He’s just drunk, Joel. She can handle hers-“ but Joel ripped his arm away and began to weave his way through the patrons to where you and Jim stood, and Tommy shook his head.
“Christ.” Tommy muttered, and dragged a hand down his face. He knew better than to sway Joel after he set his mind on something.
And he certainly couldn’t stop him when it came to protecting you.
“… he can share. I’d like to have a round with you, show you how a real man can treat you-“ Jim said, but Joel rounded on him quickly.
“What did you say?” Joel hissed, staring daggers into Jim’s back. Jim swiveled to face Joel, and Joel could see him sway a bit. Drunk or not, he had no right to speak to you that way.
“Fuck off, Miller. You can have her back when I’m through-“
At that, Joel had enough. He swung wide, his fist collided with Jim’s face with a sickening crunch. The crowd reacted with scattered gasps and flinches. Jim was down with one blow, and fell to the floor, his nose beginning to bleed.
“Jesus Christ, Miller! You…” He cried, and held his nose with a shaky hand. Joel bent down, and grabbed him by the collar.
“You keep your mouth shut around her, you understand? Or I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to your fuckin’ dog.” He said, and raised his hand to give him another blow but a hand grabbed his arm. He was about to jerk away, thinking it was Tommy, but-
“Joel. Stop.”
Your commanding voice hung in the air, and Joel froze. He let go of Jim after a few tense seconds, and Jim fell back onto the floor. Standing straight, your hand eased up on his arm and he felt his breathing begin to even out. You still held onto him, and pulled at his sleeve to get him to walk away. He followed dutifully, and exited the bar with you while others watched apprehensively. 
“Why did you do that?” 
“I-“
“Joel. That’s not-“
“He was just so, so disgusting, and I couldn’t-“
You and Joel stood outside of the bar, the conversation tense following the events from inside. Joel’s hand continued to shake at his side, both from adrenaline and a dull throbbing pain, his ears still slightly ringing.
“He said… awful things. I couldn’t let him get away with that.” Joel said, and your eyes softened. You picked up his hand that he had knocked Jim with, and you could already see the redness forming there. Joel sucked in a breath quickly, and your eyes met his for a moment, thinking he was in pain. But, he was feeling something far from pain. Far, far from it.
“People have been talking.” You said, and Joel frowned. 
“They’ve been saying, er… that we have a rather intimate relationship.” You explained, and Joel gulped. While he would want that more than anything, laying accusations of that nature about you was enough to infuriate him. You held his hand within your own, and shook your head.
“But, It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what they say. I say, screw it, let them think what they want.” You said flippantly, waving a hand to the side. “It’s not their business, anyway-“
You shook your head vehemently. You were upset that people would talk about Joel like that, after all he’s done for them. You knew it was all out of jealousy, and that it was all talk. It still stung, though.
Joel looked so serious, and normally you would have laughed and pointed it out. But you were so upset that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Besides, they… Their talk is warranted. I see how it looks, but it has nothing to do with them. Only us. Just us.” You said. Joel then took your hand in his with a much more firm grip, even if his knuckles were sore. You watched him for what felt like minutes. Well, there was no going back now. 
“I just… I care about you, Joel. A lot. More than- more than I can say. I like hanging out with you, I like seeing you smile, I like hearing your, rather rare, laugh. I want to hear what you have to say, I want to sit with you in silence and drink copious amounts of coffee. I-“ you rambled, and finally shut yourself up for a moment, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. 
“I just, I want more. I want to be with you. Okay?” You said, forcing the words out, and you looked up at him. He was watching you with those intense brown eyes in silence. You thought he was going to reject it, passing it by, as his grip loosened on your hand. But, his grip became soft, and he lifted your hand to his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly, and his honeyed brown eyes watched you with… adoration.
“Darlin’, you have no idea how much you mean to me.” He said, his lips against your skin. He looked down at you, his eyes soft and sweet like a warm glass of whiskey. He raised a hand to bring his thumb against your cheek.
“I can’t give… I can’t give you much. I ain’t too good at grand, romantic gestures. I just have myself, it’s all I have to offer. You’re too good for me, and you deserve someone who can give you everything you could ask for, give you the world-“
“Joel,” You said, your eyes looking between his own. You your head, 
“I don’t want the world. I want you.” 
You leaned into his touch, and he let go of your hand to put a hand on your waist and closed the distance between you. 
And he kissed you. He kissed you the way he’s always wanted to- gently, cautiously, but full of hope and heart. 
You closed your eyes immediately on impact, and returned the kiss with a gentle push. You raised your hand to press against his bearded cheek, his hair tickling your fingertips. He smelled of wood and leather, and a strong smell that you knew was just Joel. He was everything you wanted, and more. 
You weren’t sure who pulled away first, but you both needed air. Joel leaned his forehead against yours, and his thumb still gently caressed your cheek. You were too good for him, and he knew that. He didn’t deserve anyone by the likes of you. 
And yet, here you were, wrapped up in his arms and returning his kiss. It was something he had only ever dreamed of, only ever thought about late at night.
But now, it was reality.
“Let’s get a cup of coffee. ‘S Fuckin’ cold out here.” Joel laughed, and you grinned, taking his hand and holding it tightly. You lead the way, through the snow and cold air, but you both felt warm from head to toe.
~*~*~
“Why not?”
“I said no.” Joel said firmly. 
“Well, you look like a sad, old, shaggy dog.” Ellie said, and eyed the scissors that sat on the bathroom counter next to Joel. Joel looked at her with a raised eyebrow,
“That’s why I’m going to cut it.” he replied. He was feeling a bit self conscious about his hair lately. It was long, overgrown, and curling at the ends. You didn’t say anything about it, but he felt… scraggly.
He kept his beard in good shape. That was easy. But, his hair was a different story. He ran a hand through it, and sighed. He was in a battle with himself. He needed to at least cut the back, but he had no way to look at it or judge how much he should cut. 
The door opened and you stepped into the Miller household, calling out your presence. You had been asked to come by after work for some kind of soup Joel attempted. You were practically living in Joel’s house at this point, though you still slept in your own house. It was all about taking it easy, you both agreed. It had only been a few weeks since your kiss, and you and Joel were still learning how to dance around a significant other again. But, it was falling into a rhythm, one that comforted you both.
Ellie’s eyes shifted and stuck her head out the doorway,
“In here!” she called, and you stepped into the way of the downstairs bathroom, assessing the scene. Joel glanced at you before frowning at the scissors.
“‘Sup.” Ellie greeted, and you grinned.
“‘Sup, yourself. What’s going on?” You questioned, a bit of snow still in your hair, and you rubbed your arms to bring warmth to them again. When neither spoke, you cocked up an eyebrow and met Ellie’s gaze. 
Ellie grew a mischievous glint in her eyes, and she leaned back on her heels, shoving her hands in her pockets.
“Why don’t you get your girlfriend to do it?” Ellie questioned, and Joel’s eyes shot to her, red flaring up his face. You two hadn’t discussed the intricacies of your relationship, much less as to what label you would have. Joel cleared his throat and leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms to try to play it off. Ellie’s grin was apparent, and you stood at the bathroom threshold next to Ellie. 
Your eyes cast down to the scissors, and it dawned on you. 
“Somebody needs a haircut?” You offered, and Joel looked over at you, his eyes softening. He half shrugged, dragging a hand down his beard.
“Was just thinkin’ about it.” He said, and Ellie looked over at you with an exasperated look.
“He was just about to start until I came in. I offered, but-“
“You ain’t comin’ near me with any sharp objects, kid.” He said, his eyes narrowing at her. Ellie put her hands up in defense, and looked at you.
“See what I mean?”
“I’ll take it from here.” You said, and walked into the batroom and rolled up your sleeves. Joel leaned away slightly,
“You done this before?” He questioned, knowing better than to doubt you. But, this was his head you were talking about, and he didn’t want to look like a fool.
“Yeah. Used to cut hair all the time. I’m not a high end stylist but I get the job done. Now, ge over theret.” You said, picking up the scissors and gesturing for Joel to walk further into the bathroom. He sighed and did as he was told (because who was he to deny you?) and sat on the edge of the tub as you instructed. Ellie watched, that grin still plastered on her face, as she leaned against the doorway. 
“Take off your flannel, I don’t wanna get hair everywhere.” You said. Joel was wearing a t- shirt under his flannel, but it still felt… intimate. 
But, he undid the buttons and handed it off to you. You folded it and set it on the bathroom sink, and picked up the comb that lay not too far away. You turned to Joel and angled his head to the side and began to snip away slowly. Ellie shifted behind you, and shook her head.
“God, this is stressing me out. Don’t cut off his ears, okay?” Ellie said, and waved before leaving towards the living room. You grinned as you worked at Joel’s hair, using the comb as a line to cut around.
“I think that shows she cares. In her own way.” You laughed, and Joel rolled her eyes.
“She’s still a pain in my ass. And nosy as hell, apparently-” He said, and you heard Ellie shout from the living room,
“I am literally right here!” 
You shook your head and continued to cut. Joel sat still as stone, and your eyebrows began to furrow in concentration as you moved all around him. Joel felt more and more relaxed, with your presence so near and the sound of snip snip snip softly in his ear. You moved to the front side, and he held out a hand to place on your waist as if to keep you anchored in the spot. You smiled lightly, reveling in the touch as you continued to cut.
Joel’s hand was warm and steady on your hip, and he began to rub light circles into your side over your shirt. You tilted your head to the side; and he glanced up at you.
“You look so serious.” He said, and you glanced at him with an amused smirk.
“Hey. That’s my line.” You laughed.
“Is it that bad?”
“I’m just trying my damndest to not mess it up, baby.” You said, and moved to chop at the back. You definitely didn’t want your man to have a mullet, knowing the look didn’t really look good on anyone.
“I appreciate that.” Joel said, and meant it. He moved his head this way and that as you adjusted him, and then you finally stood straight. His hand stayed at your side, and he looked up at you.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He said, and you smile, running the comb and then your hand through the top of his head.
“Anytime.” You said, your hand trailing down his hair to his neck, then to his cheek. He leaned into your touch instinctively, and your thumb brushed against his beard. You liked the way it felt under your fingertips, and how much he just looked and felt like a man. Your man.
It felt new to think that, but you wouldn’t say it out loud. Not yet. 
“You guys better not be getting weird in there!” Ellie called after a few beats of silence, breaking you from the intimate moment. Joel rolled his eyes and stood up, and you set the scissors to the side. He brought you close to his side for a moment and pressed a kiss to your temple. You smiled, leaning into him. 
Yes. Your man.
~*~*~
“Why don’t you spend the night?” Joel questioned as you both trudged through the snow after a shift on patrol. You turned your head to him, eyes narrowing.
“So that’s why you’ve been so quiet today.” you said, nodding in realization. Joel breathed out a huff of a chuckle, and shook his head. You could see red creeping on the tip of his ears, and knew it wasn’t just from the cold.
“Ellie’s got a birthday party to go to, said it’s gonna run late. They say it’s gonna get below freezing tonight, and I don’t want you to have to walk home in that-”
“Okay.” 
He cleared his throat, and nodded, his gaze moved down to the snow to make sure he didn’t step on anything that would give him trouble. You grinned, and shook your head at his bashfulness. He really was the perfect gentleman- never overstepping or forcing himself, respecting boundaries and even coming up with some of his own. He really was exercising the “taking it slow” rule, too. 
Maybe tonight could change that. 
When you parted ways, more work waited for you both. With a squeeze of hands and looks of longing, you both made a silent promise to meet up that night. 
Joel had managed to get to the house earlier, and began preparing. He had gotten some more soup from the cafeteria to heat up and for you to share. He had coffee at the ready, and his house was as clean as he could make it. After putting Ellie to work before she could escape, she later remarked that “the house had never been so clean,” and “she must be pretty important for you to dust the cabinets.”
She may not have said it outright, but she knew Joel cared for you. Despite their sometimes strained relationship, she was happy he wasn’t completely alone anymore. She could see this heaviness on his shoulders lift from time to time, that line between his eyebrows disappear when he saw you. Ellie couldn’t even tease him about it for much longer, as she had her own budding relationship that Joel would eventually find out about. Then the tables would turn and she would get the incessant teasing. 
“Hey,” she said, turning before she left to see Joel sweeping the kitchen one last time. He looked up, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t fuck this up.” she said, giving him a grin. The door shut behind her, and he shook his head. 
But, he agreed with her. 
~*~*~
The sun had set all too soon, and he waited anxiously for your arrival. He couldn’t sit still, and fiddled with the wood trinkets he had whittled, and looked through his sad excuse of a record collection. He could feel nervousness creeping under his skin, around his heart. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he was moving too fast. What were you thinking? Did you think that he was just looking to get some when he asked you to stay? He knew that wasn’t the case on his part, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. If anything, he could always take the couch-
A knock on the door sounded, and he nearly gave himself whiplash turning around and heading to the door. When he opened it, you stood with a mason jar in hand, your familiar green jacket pulled around you. Snow flurries dotted the background of where you stood, and Joel couldn’t help but smile. 
What was he worried about again?
You stepped in, and when the door shut, you leaned up and gave him a light kiss. He leaned into it, about to raise his hand to touch your face when you pressed something into it instead. He looked down at it, and then to you with a cocked eyebrow.
“Moonshine?”
“Correct. Just a little. Keith said that’s all it takes.” you laughed, and Joel shook his head with a smile. He helped you out of your jacket, and you bent down to remove your boots as Joel walked to the kitchen. He had a small pot to heat up the soup over the fire, and carried that carefully after putting the moonshine down. You walked to the couch as Joel set the pot over the fire, and felt the warmth of Joel’s house seep into your bones. You tugged at the sleeves of your blouse, and Joel noted he hadn’t seen it before as he sat down next to you. It was nice- a little form fitting, beige with some kind of subtle floral pattern. 
“Somebody dressed up.” Joel chuckled, and you rolled your eyes. You nudged his shoulder lightly as you settled into the couch, Joel’s arm moving instinctively around the back of the couch to welcome you into his side. 
“Figured i’d try at least a little.” you said, and Joel pressed a kiss to your temple gently.
“I like it.” he said quietly, and you leaned your head onto his shoulder, the crackling of the fire and the wind outside being the only music you two listened to.
“Joel?” you questioned, and Joel hummed in response, leaning his head against yours. If he could be stuck in a snowglobe, trapped in time, it would be this moment. “Tell me a story.” 
He smiled, and sighed, lifting his head and looking around, eyes narrowed.
“Alright, I got one. It’s dumb, but it was funny.” he said, trying to recall the details of the movie in question. It had been years, though. “I’ve seen it god knows how many times. It was Sarah’s favorite-” he said, but abruptly stopped. You stilled for a moment, and pondered what to say next. Joel had mentioned his daughter a few times in passing. Never for too long, but you had pieced this much together- she was young, died on outbreak day, and Joel couldn’t save her. 
You could relate- you had lost your parents in quick succession after the outbreak, leaving you with strangers to survive. Losing your husband a year ago, the last of the familiarity you knew. You had never known true stability… Until now.
“She… she was a good kid-” Joel said, and you lifted your head and could see a misty look in his eyes. You pressed a hand to his cheek, grounding him back to reality.
“With you raising her, she must have been lovely. They learn the best from you, you know.” you said, and smiled gently. Joel’s eyes moved downwards, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek gently. You didn’t want to press it, knowing it was a sensitive subject for him. But, with a shaky breath, he raised his eyes to the ceiling, like he was looking for something. A reason, a comfort, something.
But, his eyes moved back to you. Though weak, he smiled. You were both a reason and a comfort. Two things he needed to finally break the ice on his first daughter. 
“She loved reading. Made me read her all sorts of stuff. She knew how to read before other kids her age. I… I’m proud of her. What she did, when she was still here.” he said, swallowing. You nodded, your hand never straying far from him as it sunk from his face to take his free hand. 
“She’s still here, Joel. You carry her wherever you go. Memories are good for that- keeping people alive, even when they’re not here next to us.” You said quietly, and Joel’s smile strengthened a little bit more. He nodded, exhaling deeply and shifted on the couch to get a little more comfortable.
“I remember I took her to the library every week, ever since she was little. She loved to walk around the aisles, didn’t care much for the play area. She would come with a stack of books this high,” Joel said, and raised his hand over his knee, and you giggled. “Insisted she would read every single one. And she did.” 
~*~*~
When dinner was all said and done, you both nursed your second glass of moonshine, the conversation a bit more light. You recounted some funny stories from working around the commune, and Joel would laugh in amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You loved that sight, and couldn’t help but grin every time. 
“No, really! She said she was going to march straight to his house and give him a piece of mind. I mean, I'd do the same thing- you can’t let that shit slide.” You said, and Joel just continued laughing. You rolled your eyes, nudging his leg with your toe. The moonshine was definitely getting to you two. You had a fleeting thought to either thank Keith later or wallop him over the head. This shit was strong.
“Please, darlin’, have mercy on me.” he said, his cheeks rosy with the effects of the alcohol, a hand pressed against his aching stomach from laughing so much. You grinned, happy to see him like this. So free, so comfortable, able to laugh and actually mean it. You leaned forward and took the nearly empty glass from him. He made a noise of protest but didn’t move to stop you as you set your empty glasses on the coffee table in front of you. You nearly fell over and Joel caught you before you could tumble to the floor, both of you giggling for no damn reason. Joel pulled you up, and you were nearly nose to nose, sitting up on your knees next to him. 
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you suddenly felt hot. You couldn’t tell if it was actually sweat collecting down your back or if it was just a feeling. Your hand rested on Joel’s chest, and your laughter subsided, your gazes on each other turning heavy. Your hand rested on his chest, and Joel’s brown eyes kept moving back and forth to your own. You raised a hand to press against his cheek and before you even had the notion to lean in, he crashed his lips onto yours. The force knocked you back a bit, but you recovered and kissed back, eyes falling shut. Joel hummed against your lips, and your eyebrows knit together in want. In a fit of passion, you swung your leg over his thighs and rested on his lap. This drew a real, true groan from Joel, his hands settling on your hips and gripping them like a vice. You tilted your head down, capturing his lips in a deep kiss that was enough to make your head spin. 
Joel began to move your hips in his grasp, and you could feel a tightening of his jeans beneath you. You chased the feeling, beginning to grind against him. You pulled back to only dive into his neck, kissing the column and then to the side, moving to the spot under his ear. A low grumble came from his chest, tilting his head back to revel in your kisses. You began to suck on the spot, your hand moving from his chest to palm at his jeans. Joel’s hand abruptly moved from your hip to your shoulder, pushing you back just a bit before you came up voluntarily. 
Looking at Joel with wide, lust-blown eyes, you suddenly felt a wave of doubt cross you. Did you overstep? Was this too much? 
“Darlin’,” he began, his chest rising and falling, his dark brown eyes nearly black from what you’ve done to him. He cupped your cheek gently, “If we’re gonna do it, we’re gonna do it right. Somewhere more comfortable for the both of us.”
Your doubts were dashed away like a bolt of lightning, a smile rising to your face and you kissed him deeply. Shuffling off of him clumsily and standing up, you extended your hand to pull him off the couch. He began to lead you to the bedroom up the stairs, a giddy feeling in his chest. When the door swung open, he didn’t give much time to linger on the contents of his room, turning to you and pulling you to his chest and pressed a hot kiss to your lips. 
You didn’t know Joel could be so passionate, but you were not complaining. You sighed against his lips, and Joel began to back up until the back of his knees hit the bed. You pushed him and he slowly sat down, breaking away from the kiss to look up at you as you stood over him. His hand reached out and settled on your waist, and you just had to take a second and admire him. Mouth swollen and pink from the kisses, eyes filled with a healthy mixture of lust and adoration, his chest rising and falling to show his anticipation. You could only wonder what you looked like at that moment. Probably a wild and lustful thing, dripping with anticipation. 
You began to sink to your knees, but Joel was quick to pull you up with a gentleness and pecked you on the lips.
“Next time.” he mumbled and you began to giggle, feeling the corners of his lips quirk up. You pulled away, shoulders still shaking from your giggles, butterflies swarming in your stomach.
“Oh yeah? Next time?”
“Of course.” Joel said, as if it was clear as day. You grinned and moved to kiss him but he took you by the waist and turned you to lay on the bed with you on your back. You bounced on the old springs, and grinned up at Joel, hand moving to his shoulder as he leaned down and kissed you with fervor. Your other hand moved to his flannel, struggling to undo the buttons one-handed and had to have your other hand join in. Joel’s hand decided to busy themselves with the button of your jeans, sliding the zipper down. Just as you were about to undo the final button, he pulled away and undid it himself, pulling the flannel off and discarding it somewhere behind him. You pouted at the sight of the undershirt, and he laughed at your expression, pulling it off and threw it back to join his flannel. Suddenly his self-consciousness about being shirtless was left at the door, along with all of your doubts and worries. 
You sucked in a breath, and had dreamed of this sight. You knew he was solid, broad, but this was a sight to behold. He was all smooth, freckled, tanned skin, his stomach a little pudgy but meaning it was well loved. It was all you had imagined, and a little more. 
“... darlin’? Did you hear me? Lift your hips for me.” he said, bringing you back to reality, and you obeyed as quickly as you could to catch up with him. He pulled your jeans down, and you felt the cool air settle on your skin and realized he took your underwear down too. You whined in anticipation and he paused just as your jeans hit the ground. He looked up at you, a silent question in his eyes and you gave him a strained smile and a subtle nod. He settled on the floor, a hand tracing down your torso to your stomach, then pelvis. He kissed your knees, then your thighs and eased them open gently. 
“Jesus,” he murmured as he looked down at your glistening cunt, and you lifted yourself up onto your elbows in a sudden movement to capture his reaction. “You’re fucking perfect.” 
With little preamble, he leaned his head down and you lost the support of your arms as you fell back when you felt his tongue give a firm swipe up your folds. Your hands gripped the sheets out of pure bliss. If this is what you felt like now, what was in store for you next?
Joel’s lips pressed to your clit which was already throbbing with need, and your eyebrows knit together as he began to suck on it gently. Your hand itched to thread through his hair, and he did another swipe up and down your cunt before sliding his tongue inside. You both let out a chorus of groans and gasps, your back arching off the bed and his hand moved to press against your lower stomach to keep you in place. He repeated a cycle of licks, kisses, and sucking of your clit that made you see stars. Your hand eventually found the back of his head, and you really didn’t have to do anything as he pressed himself more into your cunt, his nose swiping over your clit as his mouth worked in and out of you. 
“Joel-” you whined, feeling the sensation of a tightening in your stomach, your lower back alight with heat. He must feel you were close, as you gasped when two fingers entered you, joining Joel’s mouth as he worked you. “Fuck,” you sighed, trying to turn your head to look down at him. But, it had been so long since you had had a proper orgasm not by your own hand that all you could do was lay back and take it. 
“Doin’ so good for me, baby.” he murmured, the words of praise making you exhale sharply before sucking in another breath at a strong suck to your clit. His fingers worked in and out, the sounds of squelching from your wet cunt filling the room. Your body began to wind up, your stomach flexing under his hand that still rested there. 
“That’s it. Come for me, darlin’.” he said, not sure if he was actually talking to you or your body to coax you into an orgasm. He then curled his fingers inside you and you tightened around them, body trembling and you let out a whine that turned into a moan, your hand holding onto his hair as the other gripped the sheets for dear life. Your body flooded with endorphins, and you felt a flooding sensation down south as well. Joel pulled out his fingers, lapping up your release with obscene noises. With a few swipes of his tongue and a few swirls around your clit, you had come down gently, eyes closed as black and white danced behind your eyelids.
Feeling him shift, you opened your eyes and he coaxed you into pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra. Your body felt weightless but heavy all at the same time, but you found the strength to move back on the bed with trembling limbs from your orgasm. Joel undid his jeans and pushed them down before climbing on top of you. You looked down and… god. He was impressive. 
He kissed you deeply, bringing you out of your thoughts abruptly once more, tasting yourself on his tongue. He rested a hand on your waist, his hips instinctively grinding against your own and you shivered at the touch, winding a hand through his hair to keep him close. Your hand found his cock and you gave it a few encouraging pumps, finding he was rock solid. 
“Shit, sweetheart, if you do that- I’m not gonna last-” he groaned, and you smirked against his lips and pressed him against your folds. Even feeling the head of his cock was enough to send you spiraling and your grip on him loosened. But, he was quick to take it and align himself, mouth moving in tandem with yours. He gave a few swipes of his tip and just when you were about to beg, he slid himself inside, bit by agonizing bit. You sucked in a breath as Joel exhaled with a soft moan, your mouths open and hovering between each other. Your hand moved from his hair to his cheek, and he pressed his forehead against yours as he began to rock his hips. 
You were in bliss. It was such an intimate, soft moment as he took his time moving in and out of you. A hand loosening on your waist, his hand explored the expanse of your side, up and down as the other supported his weight next to your head. 
“Joel…” you whispered, your other arm abandoning the sheets and curled around his back to keep him close. He rocked back and forth and hit your cervix, once, twice, three times until it became a habit. Your body began to tense again, and he groaned into your neck, your name escaping him with a hiss. He kissed your neck, his hips moving a bit faster, hitting that spot with more force. Your toes began to curl as your legs wrapped around his waist, and he began to stiffen, but didn’t let up his pace.
“Come on, give me another one.” he murmured against your skin, and your cunt twitched at the encouragement, causing him to moan again. You didn’t think he would be this vocal during sex, but god you were loving every bit of it. 
“Please, Joel- I wanna-” you whined, and he reached down between you two and began to rub circles on your clit to further encourage you. Your lips parted, eyebrows scrunching up. That’s all it took for you to come undone the second time that night, tightening around him and encouraging his own release. His hips stuttered, giving about three more languid thrusts. He then quickly moved, sitting up slightly as he pulled out and pumped his cock, his sticky release painting your pelvis and stomach with white. 
“Fuck.” you whispered, and grinned, Joel panting as he watched his work, and then moved his eyes to you. You couldn’t want to taste that coming down your throat. But, next time.
He leaned down, uncaring that he smeared his release between you as he kissed you deeply. You couldn’t find the strength to meet him halfway, but raised a hand to press against his face to keep him there for a moment. 
He pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours and mumbled a “be right back,” moving to go down the hall to the bathroom and he came back with a damp washcloth, wiping himself and you down. He set it to the side, and joined you on the bed. His arm moved over your torso, and he propped himself up to look at you with pure adoration in his eyes.
“So… you’ll still stay?” he questioned, his voice soft, questioning. But, you already knew your answer, and gave him a smile, and a gentle nod. 
~*~*~
Somewhere in the night, you had to borrow some of Joel’s clothes. The cold draft in the room was a bit more tolerable with a t-shirt and sleep pants on. Luckily Joel had enough for the both of you.
The sunlight peeked through the faded curtains, signaling morning had come. You lay on your side, Joel’s body pressed against your back, an arm around your waist. Your eyes opened slightly, still thick with sleep, but taking in your surroundings. Joel’s room was simple, but cozy. The sunlight filtering in was warming up the area, and you held onto the pillow just a bit tighter, pressing back against Joel to savor his warmth. 
When you did, Joel let out a hum, and you felt a kiss on your shoulder, then another. And another.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d wake up.” Joel chuckled, and gave your hip a squeeze. You grinned, turning in his arms and laid on your back, looking over at him. 
“Well, having three rounds was enough to knock me the hell out.” you laughed. You really didn’t know how Joel could keep up with the age he was at. But, he was insatiable, like a horny frat boy at a sorority party. And you weren’t complaining.
“Mm. You sound so upset.” he chuckled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then sitting up a bit to kiss your lips. Now that this particular moment in your relationship had happened, Joel seemed a bit less nervous and a bit more giving. You could only wonder what the future had in store. 
“Did Ellie come home?” you suddenly questioned, and Joel nodded, his hand running up and down your side, pulling you close.
“She did. Don’t worry.” he said, pressing a kiss to your neck. You wanted to laugh at that- Joel Miller telling you not to worry? That was yet another first.
You sat in silence, the sun growing more and more bright as it rose in the sky. It gave the room a very warm, inviting, and comforting tone. You sighed as Joel leaned his head into your neck, his scent enveloping you. Turning your head to press your nose to his forehead, he gave her shoulder another kiss, then your neck. 
“So, does this mean I can hold your hand around town now?” Joel mumbled, and you couldn’t help but grin like a kid on Christmas.
“Only if I can tell people about my absolute hunk of a man.” you teased, and Joel lifted his head at that, eyebrows furrowing.
“I’m a what?” he asked, though it was in disbelief and not confusion.
“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed, and raised a hand to card through his unruly brown and silver locks. He gazed down at you, his brown eyes looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered now. You felt that familiar twist in your lower stomach, and smiled. “You’re my man, that’s all that matters.”
Joel nodded, and kissed your lips again,
“And you’re my girl?” he questioned genuinely against your lips. The sentiment and hopeful tone eased any tension that was left in your body. Your hand tightened in his hair just enough to apply pressure and deepen the kiss, your body shifting and calling for his own. And just as sure as the sun rises, his body met yours halfway, answering that call.
“I am. I wouldn’t want to be anything else.” you murmured, and you could feel Joel’s smile on your lips, humming in delight. Feeling like a couple of lovesick teenagers in a world that had gone to hell, you stayed in each other’s embrace as the sun rose high in the sky. 
Daylight has never looked so beautiful.
THE END.
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fixerbot · 11 hours ago
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“Libs are dealing with it well I see”
Very well. Glad to see it, actually. 😊
Harris ran a great campaign.
Harris didn’t win the 2024 elections.
⬆️ Both of these things can be true. ⬆️
Plus, anyone who is media literate knows that “where the Harris campaign went wrong” is not news. Hey everybody, look, CNN has it figured out. 🤨
PSA 😬
News articles are written by people who are fallible and especially oblivious to their own faults; people who usually have an agenda that may or may not align with yours. (Can lead to confirmation bias)
In fact, do not assume that the news is written for you to consume like water from a pipe. It is always “framing” angles and perspectives.
Yes, fixerbot has worked in a newsroom.
Every headline and every story is an angle. Heck, even the ads are angled. If you’re not critiquing you’re doing it wrong.
Assertion: “Where the Harris campaign went wrong” is a fallacious title for a news article for its circular reasoning rooted in a false premise.
Circular reasoning and false premise - The title is framing the results of the 2024 presidential election as a failure or fumble on the part of the Harris campaign.
“Where the Harris campaign went wrong” = “The results of the elections are a reflection of the failures of the Harris campaign - why did they fail”
On integrity alone, I wouldn’t read an article with such a headline unless to critique it harshly for its own bold assertion.
The framing matters and it’s not just about CNN. It’s about news, and particularly in America, the responsibility of the fourth estate.
I understand that, to the layman, those might seem like an arbitrary, not even particularly interesting grouping of words but what assertions is the statement already making?
CNN and the people responsible for that irresponsible headline are suggesting that they have discovered the deciding factor for the results of the 2024 presidential elections not going in Harris’ favour.
Critique: What is the question that the title is seeking to address? What would need to be determined to answer that question? What would be the associated assumptions and limitations when answering such a question?
Point: a cursory glance should suggest that the information that CNN is reporting on with such decided pomp and certitude could only AT BEST be the framing of popular opinion.
Once you read the article with this understanding you’ll probably realise that it’s not saying anything very interesting or even news worthy. It might be valid as an opinion piece but is it putting itself forward for critique or just trying to make an assertion?
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lmao, libs are dealing with it well i see
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tinytinyblogs · 3 days ago
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Take Me Back
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After the breakup, all they can think about is you.
Hyung line, Maknae line(coming soon)
Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0
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Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨
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Chan
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Chan had been isolating himself since the breakup, retreating into his studio and shutting out the world. At first, he thought it was what he needed—to be alone and process everything. But as the days blurred together, he wasn’t sure anymore. Was he giving himself space to heal, or was he just drowning in his own sadness? The once-productive sanctuary of his studio became a place of frustration. The half-finished song on his computer screen mocked him, the melody incomplete, the lyrics refusing to flow. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus. All he could feel was the heavy ache in his chest. In that moment, he swore all he could think about was you. His mind reeled, his breath caught, and he realized he had never known just how important you were in his life until now. Sometimes, he swore he could hear your voice, faint but clear, nagging him gently like you used to whenever he overworked himself. The familiarity of it almost brought him comfort, but it was just a reminder of how much he missed you. His friends were worried.
They tried to coax him out, to remind him that he didn’t have to deal with this alone, but Chan would just shake his head and offer a weak smile. He spent his days clicking his pen absentmindedly, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. One evening, as the pen clicked rhythmically in his hand and he stared blankly at his computer screen, the door creaked open. He didn’t look up at first, too lost in his thoughts. But then he caught sight of you standing there in the corner of his vision. He blinked, startled, his heart skipping a beat it's a quiet exchange of gazes between you and him. "Stupid imagination," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the screen. “Until when are you going to keep caving yourself in like this, Chan?” His head snapped up, his wide eyes locking onto yours. The sound of your voice was too clear, too real. He couldn’t believe it. “Have you eaten?” you asked softly, stepping closer to him. Before he could respond, you reached out and gently took the pen from his hand.
Chan froze his voice seems caught in his throat, perhaps because he's too surprised to see you standing there in front of him. His breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming, but when you didn’t disappear, he stood abruptly. His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you close. “It’s real... it’s really you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “God, I missed you so much.” His face buried itself in the curve of your neck as if he couldn’t let go. Your hand gently patted his back, and he exhaled shakily, some of the tension in his body melting away. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Please don’t leave. Keep nagging me, please. I need you in my life.” You let him hold you, your presence grounding him. “I thought I’d lost you forever after that stupid argument,” Chan said, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “But now… I know I can’t lose you. Not when I need you the most.” And for the first time in weeks, his heart felt just a little lighter.
Minho
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Minho was stubborn, always had been. After the messy breakup, he carried on as though everything was fine, pretending nothing had changed. To most, he seemed unaffected, moving through his days with the same routine. But underneath the facade, he felt hollow. Without you, his world felt off balance. Motivation, once his driving force, slipped through his fingers. He went through the motions, but everything felt heavier now. Minho became more irritable, snapping at small things that would’ve never bothered him before. He wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but even he couldn’t deny that everything felt wrong without you. Though Minho had never been one for overt displays of affection, he missed the simple things—like holding your hand, the warmth of your fingers intertwined with his. It was ironic how much he craved it now, a reminder of what he’d lost. In quiet moments alone, he’d find himself staring at his phone case, the one you’d given him. The stickers you both had printed together—the ones that matched like high school sweethearts—mocked him with memories of happier times.
He’d trace his finger over them absentmindedly, his chest tightening at how much he missed those days. One particularly rough day, overwhelmed by the mess of emotions he kept bottled up, Minho decided to go for a run. The cold air burned his lungs as he pushed himself harder, as though he could outrun the ache in his heart. But when he stopped, panting and catching his breath, he froze. He was standing in front of your apartment building. His feet seemed to have carried him there without him even realizing it. Somehow, he found himself wondering just how much he had been longing for you. Before he even realized it, his feet had carried him to your place—but even then, he couldn’t bring himself to turn back. For a moment, he debated turning back, but the pull was too strong. Before he knew it, he was stepping inside and walking toward your door. And then, as if fate had planned it, the door swung open. You were there, about to head out. Both of you froze. “How many times do I need to tell you to zip up this jacket?” Minho broke the silence, stepping closer.
Without waiting for permission, he gently pulled the zipper up, shielding you from the cold. “Winter’s coming soon.” His voice was soft but firm, and the gesture was so familiar that it made your heart ache. His hand gently cradled yours, feeling the coldness of your hand, and slowly, his warmth began to transfer to you. There was a beat of silence as he looked at you, his gaze searching yours. Finally, he spoke again. “We should... get back together.” Your breath hitched, but you didn’t respond, letting him continue. “We made that silly promise, remember? To stay together forever,” he said, his voice quieter now. A hint of tears welled up in his eyes, revealing a side of Minho you had never seen before. “I still want that. I still want you.” Minho’s hand reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “I’m sorry... and I love you.” For the first time in weeks, Minho allowed himself to hope.
Changbin
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Changbin couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of his own words—those impulsive, thoughtless words that shattered everything—had been suffocating him from the moment they left his lips. A few days had passed since the breakup, but each one dragged on endlessly, a torment he couldn’t escape. Regret gnawed at him like a relentless shadow, keeping him restless and desperate. That evening, he sat alone on the couch in his apartment—the same one you used to share. His leg bounced nervously as he buried his face in his hands, trying to untangle the chaos of his thoughts. But no matter how hard he tried, every thread led back to you. The empty space beside him, the silence that filled the room, and the constant ache in his chest all screamed one thing: he needed to fix this. He needed you back. By midnight, the longing became unbearable. Grabbing his jacket, Changbin bolted out the door, his heart hammering with every step. The cold night air stung his cheeks, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed with you—your smile, your laughter, the way you looked at him as if he were your whole world. How had he let it all slip away?
When he reached your place, his hand trembled as he reached for the spare key you had once entrusted to him. The metal felt cold against his skin, a stark reminder of what he had lost. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, his heart pounding so loudly it echoed in his ears. The sight of you stopped him in his tracks. You stood in the dimly lit kitchen, reaching for a glass of water. Your movements froze as you noticed him, your wide eyes mirroring his surprise. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Changbin’s teary eyes locked onto yours, his longing laid bare. You were the one he had missed more than words could ever express, and seeing you now, so close yet so distant, nearly broke him. “I... I’m so sorry,” he finally stammered, his voice quivering. “For the argument. For the awful things I said. I didn’t mean any of it.” He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes glistening with tears he could no longer hold back. His shoulders shook under the weight of his emotions, but he pressed on. “Please… don’t leave me.”
His voice cracked as he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The familiar warmth of your touch sent a jolt through him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. His thumb brushed softly over your knuckles, a silent plea for forgiveness. “That day was stupid,” he admitted, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Everything without you is stupid. I can’t think straight. My heart hurts so much, longing for you.” He tilted his head, his teary eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “What should I do without you?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Can we… can we try again? Please. Let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything—just don’t let this be the end.” For a moment, the room was filled with silence. Changbin held his breath, his heart suspended between despair and fragile hope. As his hand squeezed yours, his eyes pleaded with you. And in that stillness, he dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same ache he did.
Hyunjin
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Hyunjin sat on the edge of his bed, his phone resting in his trembling hands. The screen illuminated his face in the dimly lit room, his thumb hovering uncertainly over your contact. It had been two weeks since the breakup, and those fourteen days felt like a void swallowing him whole. He wanted to reach out, to see you, to explain everything, but his pride and fear kept him chained. The idea of showing up unannounced at your door was tempting, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he turned to his art, pouring his emotions onto blank pages as a silent plea to you. Every sketch he posted on social media held pieces of your story: your favorite flower, softly rendered in delicate lines; your favorite place, drawn with a wistful longing only he could convey; and little moments only you two shared, immortalized in graphite. They were messages without words, confessions without context, but still, you didn’t respond. Each day of silence cut deeper, leaving him questioning whether you even saw them or if you had chosen to ignore him altogether.
Tonight, the uncertainty became unbearable. His thumb hovered over your contact name once more, hesitating as doubts clouded his mind. What if you didn’t want to hear from him? What if he was only making things worse? But the ache in his chest pushed him forward. With a shaky breath, he finally typed out a message 'Can we talk?' He stared at the words for a long moment, his heart pounding as he debated whether to send them. When he finally hit the send button, relief and anxiety washed over him in equal measure. The message went through. You hadn’t blocked him—that alone was enough to spark a fragile hope. Emboldened, he typed again, his emotions spilling out 'About us. I want to explain myself… and I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance.' After hitting send, Hyunjin couldn’t sit still. He started pacing the room, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. Each passing second felt like an eternity, his mind racing through possibilities. Maybe you wouldn’t reply. Maybe you were done with him for good. Just as his resolve began to waver, his phone buzzed. He froze, staring at the screen as your reply appeared 'Come over.' Hyunjin didn’t waste a moment.
He grabbed his jacket and rushed out of his apartment, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the world around him. He ran down the street, barely remembering to slip on his shoes, his thoughts a chaotic blend of hope and fear. When he arrived at your door, he hesitated for just a moment before knocking. The door opened, and there you were. His breath hitched as your eyes met, the weight of the past two weeks settling between you. You stepped aside to let him in, and he entered slowly, his hands fidgeting at his sides as the door clicked shut. “I miss you,” he began, his voice cracking with raw emotion. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, searched yours. “And I’m sorry. Losing you—my anchor, my everything—was unbearable. I’ve been falling apart.” He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he clasped them together. “Can we… try again?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I can’t let you go. You’re the one for me. Please, give me another chance.” His vulnerability lingered in the air, and for a moment, the silence felt infinite. But as you looked at him, his honesty and pain breaking through your defenses, the barriers between you began to crack.
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cosmicdahlias · 1 day ago
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And They Were Roommates
Logan Howlett x Reader
MINORS DNI
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Your roommate, Wade Wilson, brings home an alcoholic Canadian bastard with knifes in his knuckles. After a month of putting up with him, an argument between you two goes in an unexpected direction.
tags: hard drugs mention, marijuana mention, alcohol usage, age difference, enemies to lovers, slapping, claws, hate fucking, mdom/fsub, breeding, degradation, praise kink, belt usage, choking, p in v, knifeplay (counting claw usage as knifeplay lmao), blood, creampie, possible impreg, aftercare, oral, multiple orgasms (emphasis on multiple), overstimulation
i’ve recently started watching the xcu movies after deadpool and wolverine dropped on disney+ and MY GODDDDDD have i been missing out!!! i’ve been an mcu girlie for so long (plus deadpool). the x-men movies are so fun but alsoooooo uhhhh hugh jackman as logan??? HELLO??? i need this man biblically like it’s not even funny. i have yet to watch logan (2017) but i’ve seen edits on tiktok and WHOA MAMA talk about a silver fox!!! also fun fact male wolverines bite down on the female’s neck during mating and i couldn’t resist including that in this fic. animalistic logan is THE BEST logan 👌
You were Wade Wilson’s friend turned roommate. You first knew each other through your other roommate, Althea, a blind woman who went by Al. At one point in time you were Al’s dealer before giving up that life once you got your degree and found steady employment. You never dabbled in the devil’s dandruff like Al did, as with the rest of gen Z, your drug of choice was weed. Your friends often asked why you chose an old woman and a mutant in his forties as roommates, but honestly rent was cheap and that was all you cared about.
You hadn’t seen Wade in a few days, he mysteriously disappeared during his birthday party. Neither you, nor any of his friends had any idea what had happened to him. You knew he’d kinda hit a rough’ish point in his life, giving up his assassin alter ego by the name of Deadpool for becoming a car salesman. You wondered if he had gone off on some sort of bender, but you honestly didn’t know.
You had just gotten off of work and opened the door to your apartment. Getting home took longer than expected, half of your street was cordoned off, from the damage looked like a bombing was the cause. You sat on the couch and pulled out your phone, trying to see if the local news had covered what had happened when door unlocked and swung open.
Wade walked in, sporting the iconic red suit you hadn’t seen him wear in six years. He was carrying the most… unique looking dog you’d ever seen and he was accompanied by a man with a rugged appearance who was wearing pants of similar material as Wade’s suit and nothing else. The stench of blood permeated the room.
“Al, I’m back.” Wade said.
“She’s out. Dude, where the hell have you been?” You asked.
“Oh no big deal, just saved the entire multiverse from total annihilation. I’m Marvel Jesus now.” Wade answered.
You elected to ignore his explanation. You never knew why you asked what he’d gotten up to whenever he wore that suit, none of it ever made a lick of sense to you.
“Who’s the dog?”
“Her? This four legged scrotum is Mary Puppins, or as I like to call her, Dogpool. Something… unfortunate happened to her last owner, so I’m her papà now.” Wade said cheerfully.
Knowing him, he definitely had something to do with whatever happened to her previous owner, but that wasn’t what you were asking about.
“Cute, but I was talking about the washed up Abercrombie & Fitch greeter next to you.”
The man rolled his eyes.
“Ohhhh, yeah that’s Logan. He’s gonna be crashing here for a while.”
“Wait, hold the fuck up. You disappear for days and you just show up in the suit you haven’t worn in years, reeking of blood, telling me some shirtless dude who also smells like blood is gonna live here like it’s no big deal?”
“Well funny thing is he doesn’t exactly know anyone else around here, not really his fault since I had to pull him from his universe and bring him here to save ours. May or may not have done so to a choir rendition of Madonna. You know, typical multiverse stuff and whatnot. I mean we’re Disney property now and that’s the horse they’re beating to death at the moment.” Wade answered.
Once again ignoring the exposition dump, you continued to protest.
“You can’t be serious, Wade! This is a two bed apartment. You and Al already share a room, so where the fuck are you gonna put him?”
“Isn’t that a couch you’re sitting on?” Logan scoffed.
“Oh perfect, so I can’t even use the goddam living room anymore?” You asked, growing even more irritated by Logan’s input.
“Jesus, you’re just a fuckin’ princess, aren’t you?” Logan huffed.
You glared at him before turning your attention back to Wade.
“Do I literally not get a say in this like at all? Even though I live here and pay my share of the rent?”
“Look, I promise it’s temporary. Just until he gets his footing in this universe. It won’t be so bad, I mean look him, total eye candy.” Wade said, gripping Logan’s face and turning his head to you.
Logan gave him a look that could kill. Long metal claws sprung out from just below his knuckles. Your eyes widened.
“THE FUCK ARE THOSE?” You shouted.
“Riiiiiiiight, so those are adamantium claws. They ain’t vibranium, but hey, can’t always be the number one. He’s a bonafide animal, in more ways than one, maybe you’ll find out for yourself.” Wade said, you could tell he was winking underneath his mask.
“The fuck do you mean by that?” Logan growled.
“Yeah, what?” You asked.
“Hey, I know sexual tension when I see it.” Wade retorted.
“I literally just met him.” You said.
“Yeah and with Hugh Jackman’s face and body, the time between introduction and need for face riding is a matter of seconds.” Wade said.
You gave a quick glance at Logan. Sure, he was incredibly attractive, but you sensed a sort of emotional unavailability that put you off. You had standards.
“You know my type and he’s not it, Wade.” You insisted.
“Forget type, he’s THE Wolverine. You know how many fanfics people read about this guy? Lookin’ at you, reader.” Wade said.
“Whatever, I’m not getting into a debate over my preferences for men.” You said, walking to your room and slamming the door.
“I think that went well.” Wade said.
-
A month had passed and much to your dismay, you were still being forced to share the apartment with Logan. At the very least he’d upgraded to wearing a shirt instead of walking around with his top half exposed.
After getting home from an exhausting shift at work, you opened the fridge, looking for the bottle of wine you saved for those evenings after a particularly long day. It was nowhere to be seen and you immediately knew who the culprit was.
“For fuck’s sake, Logan!” You shouted.
You headed to the living room to confront what was supposed to be your temporary roommate who sat on the couch.
“Christ, what now?” He groaned.
“Where the fuck is my wine?”
“Hm? Oh that? Yeah, it’s gone.” He answered dismissively, almost like taking time to respond or even look at you was beneath him.
“How many times do I have to tell you to keep your barely functional alcoholic ass away from my stuff?”
“Didn’t see your name on it.”
“I specifically told you not to touch that fucking bottle multiple times.”
“Must’ve not been able to distinguish what you said from your typical bitching, I usually just tune that shit out.” He said, still not making eye contact with you.
“Jesus you really have no respect for anyone.” You spat.
Logan stood, coming in way too close for your liking.
“Respect? That’s a really funny word coming from someone who doesn’t respect themselves enough to not wear short little skirts like the one you’re wearing, bending over all the time to show off that ass.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh you fuckin’ heard me. You think I don’t see what you’re doing with the clothes you wear, or when you come out in the morning in nothing but a shirt and panties because you think I’m asleep and won’t notice?”
“Back the fuck up, the hell do you mean by ‘think’ you’re asleep?”
“I barely sleep enough as it is, I’m awake the second I hear your door open. You have any idea what seeing you like that does to me?”
You blushed.
“You’re fucking disgusting.” You said through gritted teeth.
“Please, you do it because you hope I’m watching you. I see the way you look at me. You can say you hate me all you fuckin’ want, but I can smell your goddam pheromones from across the room. I’ve been around for over two centuries and have more than enough experience to know when someone wants me. Especially when they’re acting like as much of a slut as y-“
You slapped him hard across the face. Logan immediately responded by pushing you up against the wall, unsheathing his claws and holding them under your chin. Neither of you said anything, the only sounds being a mix of him and you panting in anger.
Fuck, you had really grown to hate him, but something about his claws so dangerously close to you was playing into your kinks. You stole a glance down under, holy shit he was hard. You grabbed him by the face, kissing him aggressively. His claws retracted and he let his hands travel to your waist, pulling you closer.
“Mmf- fuckin’ knew it.” He said between kisses.
Logan picked you up by the underside of your thighs and carried you to your bedroom, his lips never once leaving you. He threw you down onto the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and unhooking your bra, tossing it aside. He took in the sight of your exposed chest.
“You’re such a pretty little thing, babygirl.”
His rough, calloused hand cupped your breast. He leaned down and you gave a yelp as he bit and tugged your nipple.
Logan chuckled. “Sensitive, aren’t you?”
You kissed him as you pulled his shirt off and traced your fingers along the dip between his abs. He unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and slipping them off. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock, he laughed at your reaction.
“Yeah, like it don’t you?” He smirked.
“How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this if you’re gonna tear me in half?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t want it like that, I can tell you like it rough.”
“That’s a bold assumption to make.”
“Yeah? Keep telling yourself that.”
Logan pulled off your skirt and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, slipping them down your legs. He looked at your pussy with pure animalistic lust.
“Fuuuck babygirl, look how wet you already are for me. You got it that bad for older men, huh?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” You retorted.
“Oh I don’t have to, the way you’re dripping says more than enough.”
“Just shut up and fuck me already.”
You laid back on the bed with your head against the pillow and Logan flipped you over on your stomach, pulling you up to your hands and knees.
“No, you don’t get missionary. You act like a bitch? You’re getting fucked like one.”
Logan reached for his belt, he raised it, bringing it down sharply on your ass, making you squeal.
“This is what you get for being such a fuckin’ brat. From now on you call me ‘sir’, understand?”
“Like hell I will.“
He lashed you again.
“Keep talking back and see what happens. Now, what do you say?”
“Y- yes sir.”
“There you go. I’ll be nicer if you listen to me… maybe.”
Logan looped the belt around your neck.
“I’m keeping you on a leash in case you continue making smart comments.” He smirked.
“As if that’s gonna shut m- hrrrk!”
He pulled it tight, the leather dug into your skin and constricted your throat. The most you could get out was a strained moan.
“Got nothin’ to say to me now, huh? C’mon, tell me how much you hate me.” Logan mocked as he pulled harder.
You looked back at him and mouthed “fuck you”.
He laughed. “Oh I will.”
He pressed the tip of his cock against your slit for a fraction of a second before sharply forcing his full length deep inside you, causing you to cry out as his intimidating girth stretched you wide. He began to fuck you at a ruthless pace, the sounds of your yelps and squeaks filling the room.
“Poor thing, am I hurting you? It’s okay, I’m only fucking you senseless.” He teased.
His free hand gripped your ass, nails digging into your skin.
“Jesus Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight. It’s like your little pussy was made for my cock.” He grunted.
Logan leaned down, sucking your neck, leaving mark after mark, his hand letting the belt loosen.
“You’re gonna look so pretty all marked up by me.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Are you seriously giving me hickeys? Really? What are you thirtee- ngh!”
Logan pulled tight on his belt again, keeping you from finishing your snide remark.
His thrusts became more aggressive, and as much as your feelings about Logan confused you, his cock felt incredible. You moved yourself back on him and he growled in approval.
“Yeah that’s it, take this fat cock like a perfect little slut. So good for me.”
He let go of the belt, both hands moving to your hips. His pace became punishingly fast and brutal. Between his growls and the way he fucked you like a dog, he honestly seemed more animal than man.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ breed you, I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not.”
You whimpered and tightened around him at his words. He smirked.
“Oh you like that?”
You nodded.
“Yeah? You wanna get knocked up? Tell me you want it, babygirl. Lemme hear you say it.”
“I need you to cum in me, get me pregnant. Please.” You begged.
He stopped his thrusts with only his head remaining inside you. He grabbed you by the throat and pulled you up against him, pressing his chest to your back.
“Please, what?” He commanded.
“Please, sir.”
He shoved you down onto the mattress and slammed himself fully back inside you, immediately resuming his vicious pace.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl.”
He panted like a wild animal, his claws slowly extending as he grew close.
“S- shit, sorry. Happens sometimes.” He said.
You tightened around him.
“Use them on me, hurt me, sir. Please, I need it so bad.” You whined.
“Goddam, you’re a fuckin’ freak. Aren’t ya, babygirl?”
He raked his claws down your back, you moaned obscenely loud as pearls of blood formed from the long slits he’d created. The mere sensation of it all immediately caused you to cum on his cock. The feeling of you pulsing around his shaft pushed him over the edge. He grunted as he buried himself to the hilt and leaned over, biting down hard on your neck, capillaries breaking under your skin. His cock throbbed with every rope of cum he shot into you.
“Fuuuuckin’ Christ, it’s not often I find someone that’s as into the hardcore stuff as me.” He chuckled.
Your whole body shook and you collapsed onto the mattress on your stomach. Logan removed his belt from your neck and got off the bed.
“Stay there, don’t move.” He said, pulling on his jeans and leaving the room.
He returned five or so minutes later with gauze, a roll of medical tape, and a wet hand towel.
“Had to really dig around for some of this stuff, when two out of four roommates regenerate there’s not a real demand.“
Logan got back onto the bed, sitting next to you.
“So what’s it like? To not heal immediately?” He asked as he dabbed at the blood on your back.
“I dunno, I never really thought about it. I guess you just deal with the pain for a few days, weeks, or months depending on what it is until it’s fine again.”
Logan chuckled.
“Sometimes I forget just how fragile everyone else is, until the world reminds me of it again and then…” He trailed off.
You could tell there was a heaviness to the latter half of his words, you knew why. Wade had told you that in Logan’s universe (a concept which took weeks for you to fully grasp) every single one of his fellow mutants had been murdered. You didn’t know the details, but you didn’t need to for you to understand why he was the way that he was. You looked up at him.
“It wasn’t your fault.” You said softly.
“What do you-“ his brow furrowed. “What did Wade tell you?” He growled as he covered his claw marks with gauze.
“Don’t get mad, I just- I wanted to know why you act like-“
“A dick?” He scoffed, pulling out a few inches of medical tape from the roll.
“Like someone with severe trauma.”
He went silent and looked away from your gaze as he finished adding the last line of tape to secure the gauze.
“…You’re all patched up.”
You moved to get up and dress yourself, but Logan wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back onto the mattress.
“No, c’mere. Lay back for me.”
“Do I still have to call you ‘sir’?
“It’s alright, you can call me ‘Logan’ again. This is about making you feel good, not me. I think I owe you one for being such a good girl.”
You laid with your head against the pillow and Logan began to kiss his way down the length of your body until his head was between your thighs. His lips were so close to your pussy that you could feel the heat of his breath.
“Didn’t peg you for the kinda guy that gives head.”
“You thought wrong. I’m eating this pussy until you’re shaking for me.”
His lips met your clit, his tongue rolling and circling it. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair.
“Fuckin’ Christ, your scent is addictive.” He growled against you, making you shudder as the deep vibrations went straight to your clit.
You bucked your hips and he moved his hands to them, keeping you in place.
“Eeeeasy there. I know it feels good, but you can’t move around like that if I’m gonna eat you out, babygirl.”
He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them at just the right spot to absolutely send you over the edge. Your breath shuddered as you tightened around him.
“That’s it. C’mon, be a good girl and cum for me.”
You gripped his hair harder as you came undone on his tongue, pulsing around his fingers.
“Fuuuuuck, Logan!”
Your back arched off the bed, he pressed a hand to your stomach, holding you down.
“No, I’m not done with you yet.”
He continued sucking and licking your clit, his fingers fucking you hard and fast. You shook, feeling a second orgasm build. Your head cocked back as all of the nerves in your body ignited in pleasure for a second time. You expected Logan to remove his mouth, but he kept going.
“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re just too goddam perfect when you cum.”
You moaned loudly, your clit throbbing in his mouth as you came for a third time, cursing like a sailor and writhing against his tongue.
“You doing good there, babygirl?” Logan asked.
“Uh-huh.” You murmured.
At some point everything went hazy and you lost track of just how many times he’d made you cum. The more you had, the quicker the next one came, until it was one immediately after another. You were a shaking, stuttering mess.
“L- Logan, I ca- an’t keep going. I- it’s too m- much.”
“Shhh, you’re okay. Just one more time, I promise.”
He pumped his fingers relentlessly, his tongue working your clit at an equally vigorous pace. Every muscle in your body tensed as the most intense orgasm you had ever felt in your life rocked you to your very core and everything went white for a moment.
“Ohhhhh godddd, Logan. You’re gonna fucking kill meeee.” You groaned.
Logan moved himself to get on top of you, kissing you deeply.
“I’m sorry babygirl. I know I pushed you hard, but you did so well for me.” He whispered softly, holding your face in his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.
He laid next to you, pulling you to him, his chest pressed against your back as your post orgasm haze finally subsided.
“Never saw you as the cuddling type.” You said.
“Depends on how I feel about whoever I’m fucking, and unfortunately for me I’m starting to actually like you.”
“And what did I do to deserve that?”
“Well, you’re still a total bitch, but you’re actually pretty sweet when you want to be. I like you that way though, makes things interesting. I’ll admit when you slapped me I got so fuckin’ hard.”
“So, you’re saying I should slap you more often?”
“I’m not saying no, but just expect to lose the ability to walk after I fuck it out of you.”
“You got yourself a deal.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.
“Good. Now, there’s something you should know. Regeneration doesn’t just mean that I heal quickly.” He said, pressing the hard bulge in his jeans against you.
“Holy shit, so… we could fuck all night without stopping?”
“Exactly.”
“Then what the hell are we doing just lying here?”
Logan turned you onto your back, getting on top of you.
“Attagirl, let’s fuckin’ go.”
-
The two of you spent the whole night fucking like rabbits nonstop. When morning came you made your way to the kitchen. Logan followed, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind as you made yourself a cup of coffee. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.
“I hope you know I’m never gonna get enough of you.” He said, his hands traveling underneath your shirt to your breasts.
“I swear, you’re hornier than a dog that hasn’t had his balls chopped off.” You teased.
“Yeah and you love it.”
“There you go with the assumptions again, you’re so right though.” You purred, turning to him.
“I know I am.”
His lips met yours and he lifted you onto the counter. You laced your fingers in his hair and wrapped your legs around him. Both of you were too focused on each other to notice the sound of a door opening. Wade walked out from the room he shared with Al carrying Mary Puppins.
“Judging by the NC-17 noises I heard all night I’m guessing you two had fun.” Wade said, causing you to jump and pull away from Logan.
“For fuck’s sake, do you not know when to leave people alone?” Logan huffed.
“Oh c’mon peanut, you know boundaries aren’t my forte. It’s my toxic trait.”
Logan glared at him.
“Alright alright, I can take a hint. Just try not to get any fluids on the appliances. I certainly don’t mind a little Wolvie in my coffee, but I don’t think Al would appreciate it.” Wade said, heading back to his room.
Logan turned his attention back to you, his lips brushing against yours.
“Now, babygirl, where were we?”
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