#instead of ever asking me WHY i wasn’t doing assignments

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[dykeyuu]

i spent 7 hours studying for one subject today no problem and even had fun doing it + im trying to imagine what middle/high school would’ve been like if i’d been properly medicated

[dxxdhood]

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 

[nitewingbabi]

↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth

2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.

‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 

Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 

It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 

Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 

Unknown Number +1**********

➤ quiet night? 

➤ parents aren’t home. 

➤ neighbours are out of town. 

You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 

Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 

Unknown Number +***********

➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 

➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 

You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 

Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 

Unknown Caller 

You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 

“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 

“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 

“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 

“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 

“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 

You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 

You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 

“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 

“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 

Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 

It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 

Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 

“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 

The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 

His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 

Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 

It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 

Unkown Number +**********

➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 

➤ leave your window unlocked

➤ i know your parents wont be home

➤ hope you like it rough princess

[papercorgiworld]

No girls, no fights, no smokes

The things Mattheo Riddle does for love

This is like Theo’s ‘Tutoring first years’ a request based on the scenarios from Pansy’s Interrogation.

If you want a little more context, you can read Pansy’s interrogation, but it’s not a must.

No warnings except maybe foul language, but mostly just fluff and a bit of angst.

Picture source: https://pin.it/4r1PsBsvn

Not proofread. Feedback is as always very welcome. Happy readings, my dears!

“Slughorn is too lenient with him, because Riddle suddenly decided to show up to class, he gets an assignment to improve his grade. Ridiculous.” Hermoine says and Ron raises his eyebrows. “Slytherin privileges.” Harry joins his friends in their judging. “Not just that, Slughorn is making the same mistake he made when he trusted his father and told him about the horcruxes instead of sending him straight to Azkaban.” The three of them are startled to hear Mattheo’s voice from behind them. “You want to say that to my face, Potter!” Harry curses himself, he really wasn’t looking for a fight.

The trio turns around to face Mattheo, but they all keep their mouths shut and surprisingly so does Mattheo. The rage in his eyes is undeniable, but he simply walks by giving the trio only a quick death glare. When the trio is sure Mattheo is out of earsight Ron is the first to speak up. “Odd.” Hermoine shakes her head. “Not as much as you would think.” Harry and Ron give their friend a questioning look. “I don’t know why but he’s been on his best behavior for the past weeks. When was the last time he punched or hexed someone?” No one can immediately come up with an answer, proving Hermoine’s point.

***

“Matt, that’s my jacket.” Theo drily states thinking Mattheo mistakenly took his, while Mattheo searches every pocket of Theo’s jacket. “I know, I’m stealing your cigarettes.” Mattheo mutters with clear frustration in his voice. “You lose your own?” Theo asks as he takes his cigarettes off the nightstand to offer one to Mattheo. “No, I quit a month ago, remember.” Theo thinks for a moment, eyebrows knit together. “I honestly thought that was a joke.” Mattheo just flings Theodore an agitated glare. “Look, Matt, you can’t quit smoking, fighting and fucking at the same time.” Mattheo doesn’t say a word and lights the cigarette, just as Enzo enters the room. “No smoking inside!” “Say that one more time and you’ll be the first I punch in two months.” Enzo stops in his tracks at Mattheo’s ice cold voice and looks over at Theo with raised eyebrows.

“So, if I’m correct, no sex or blowjobs for three months, no fights for two months and almost one month of no smoking.” Mattheo lets himself fall on his bed. “Theodore?” Mattheo asks calmly, making both Enzo and Theo hold their breath. “Shut up.” Enzo can’t help but laugh as Theo rolls his eyes. “Pansy and Blaise were right the other day weren’t they? You’re doing this to impress (y/n).” Mattheo forces his eyes shut. He can barely admit it to himself, leave alone to his friends, but it is true. He so desperately needs you to like him. You are always nice to him, but you rarely ever approach him and honestly he can’t blame you.

***

Transfigurations, that’s where Mattheo realized that you weren’t just nice on the eyes. Three months ago Mcgonagoll had assigned everyone new seats and Mattheo had ended up next to you. Suddenly you weren’t just a kind stranger anymore, you became the girl that he can so easily talk to and laugh with.

Mattheo smiles when he sees you’re the first in the classroom. “Eager to score points with professor Mcgonagoll.” You look up and instantly a little blush creeps up your face. “Apparently, I’m not the only one.” Mattheo avoids your eyes, but takes his seat next to you. “I’m not early for Mcgonagoll, trust me princess.” You stare at your book and press your lips into a line in an attempt to not look like a total love struck idiot. Mattheo glances over at you while reaching for his books. When he notices your cheeks redden his heart fills with joy.

A few more students enter the classroom, forcing you both out of your love bubble. You watch him out of the corner of your eyes, while you gather enough courage to talk to him about what you saw yesterday. You lean closer to him so you can talk without being overheard and Mattheo turns towards you. “I’m sorry about what Harry said yesterday. He’s an idiot sometimes.” Mattheo keeps his eyes focussed on you, but it takes all his effort to not get angry again especially now that he knows you heard what Harry said. “I want you to know that despite that they’re my friends, I really don’t think like they do.” You slowly move your hand to lay on top of his arm as a way of showing him you care and aren’t afraid.

Mattheo searches for words, but all his mind can think of is how badly he wants your arms around him and not just your hand on his arm. When he finally opens his mouth Mcgonagoll walks in and you pull your hand back and focus on her. Mattheo adores you quietly before quickly brushing his fingers against yours. You turn to look at him and he leans in. “I know you don’t judge like they do. Maybe you should hang out more with me, could be fun?” His sweet whisper and genuine smile have your cheeks redden again. You smile and nod, thus silently agreeing that you should most definitely hang out more with him.

You spent the afternoon studying with Mattheo and right before dinner you even spent some time with his friends. It made it obvious that there was something blooming between you two and when you finally said your goodbyes you walked away the happiest girl at Hogwarts, unable to hide that happy glow around you.

***

After you spent yesterday afternoon together, Mattheo hadn’t been able to talk to you. It was like your friends were purposely keeping you away from him or maybe you didn’t like spending time with him. Either way Mattheo’s mind was working on every possible worst case scenario. Part of him wanted to stop pursuing you, because getting attached and then losing you would be worse. Maybe that thought is why he couldn’t keep his cool this time. “Everyone knows his dad’s evil and insane, but I mean his mum must’ve been absolutely mental.” Mattheo clenches his jaw but decides to turn around and follow his friends to the great hall. “Why else would the whore fuck someone like Voldemort.” At those words Mattheo snaps, dropping his bag and taking a few long strides to tackle the asshole who was talking. “Didn’t you hear that you need to keep your mouth shut, ‘cause their son is equally insane.” His fist hits the guy right in the face, causing his nose to start bleeding. The second punch doesn’t come in as hard since Blaise already has a hold on Mattheo.

When Blaise puts some distance between Mattheo and the other guy, Mattheo takes a breath and looks away from the douchebag. Mattheo’s heart breaks when his eyes land on your horrified face. No need to worry about losing her anymore. You just lost her, well done. You watch his figure disappear in one of the hallways and make your way to the great hall for lunch. You feel miserable for not being with him. Even worse, you can’t spot him anywhere in the great hall. During transfigurations the chair next to you stays empty and it’s almost impossible for you to pay attention, but you try your best to make notes with the intention of giving them to Mattheo later.

No need to worry about losing her. You’ve already lost her, well done.

***

The knock at the door of Mattheo’s dorm startles him mainly because he doesn’t hang out with the kind of people that knock. I’m either going to punch, smoke or fuck the idiot that’s come to bother me. He opens the door to see your flustered face, making him drop his attitude. “I first thought you were in the infirmary, but I’m glad to see you’re alright.” Mattheo nods still shocked to find you at his door. “You came to check on me?” For a moment you feel a bit like an obsessed person, showing up at his dorm without invitation, but then you remember your notes. “I also brought you these.” Mattheo laughs a moment and you look confused. “That’s sweet, thanks.” You feel awkward, but Mattheo notices. He clears his throat and opens the door a little more. “I’m really grateful for these, I just- my mind wasn’t thinking about class at all.” He signals you to come inside and you carefully take a few steps. “I honestly didn’t expect to ever see you outside of class again.” Mattheo admits, making your eyebrows knit together as you shake your head expressing confusion.

“The fight, earlier, I know you hate it, me.” You take a step towards Mattheo when you sense the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t like it when you fight, but I do get that some people really deserve to get punched.” Mattheo stares at you trying to figure you out, but failing miserably. “I remember your face from a few months ago when I was fighting, I’ll never forget the disgust in your eyes and today again you looked horrified.” A soft chuckle escapes you as you feel the embarrassment boil up about what you’re going to confess. “I probably made that face, because I hate to see your pretty face all beat up. That’s why I was so relieved that you didn’t get hurt today.” At a terribly slow rate a bright cheeky smile creeps up on Mattheo’s face. You can’t help but feel like you’re dying of embarrassment as his face lights up at your confession. I’m such a love struck loser with my notes and petty excuses. He totally knows I’m in love with him. This is so embarrassing. You get pulled out of your train of thoughts when Mattheo’s hand reaches for the back of your head pulling you into an intense and loving kiss.

When he realises you really like him.

[kazuhaiku]

love is the warmest color

summary: scaramouche finds love in you.

warnings: gn!reader, spoilers for a bit of scaramouche's storyline, fluff, really mild angst (almost non-existent)

notes: scaramouche oh how i love you so very much

scaramouche is used to people leaving him during the moments when he needs them the most. considering that his own creator has abandoned him due to her seeing no worth in him, he has always been cautious when creating new relationships with people.

however, that somewhat changed when he used the irminsul to wipe everyone’s memories of him, allowing him to create new and fresh memories, starting from being a student in the akademiya, which is where he first met you and formed a relationship with you.

“y/n can you hurry up?” scaramouche’s annoyed voice echoes in the empty classroom. “we’re going to be late!”

“shut up! i can’t find my pencil!” you exclaim, seeing scaramouche stand in the doorframe with a frown on his face. “can you at least help me look for it?”

“no,” scaramouche says almost instantly. “it’s your pencil, not mine. why do i have to be the one looking for it?”

“it’ll be quicker when you help me! you told me we’re running late for our next class, right?” you beg. scaramouche groans but walks up to your table, searching for the pencil with you.

“why are we searching for a stupid pencil anyway?” scaramouche asks, looking under your desk. “it’s just a pencil. we can always go buy another one after class ends.”

you gasp, almost as if you’re offended he said that. “how could you call it a ‘stupid pencil’?! you’re the one who gave it to me, remember? on the first day of class?”

scaramouche’s eyes widen, remembering the little gift he prepared for you on your first day as an akademiya student. it wasn’t even a serious gift, he thought it was quite silly in fact. 

a pencil as a gift? surely you won’t treasure it that much. he thought to himself, but oh how wrong he was.

“you-” scaramouche stutters. “you kept that piece of junk?”

“don’t say that!” you slap his arm, hearing him hiss out an ‘ouch!’. “it’s precious to me, okay? that’s the only gift i’ve ever gotten from you!”

scaramouche pauses. seeing you frantically look around for a mere pencil made him feel guilty. has he never gotten you any other presents besides the pencil? you have been dating him for almost two months now and a pencil is what he gifts you? so, instead of continuing to look for the pencil, scaramouche taps you on your shoulder. “hey um,” he suddenly feels embarrassed seeing your eyes focus on him. “we can go buy another pencil. it’s not like it’s the end of the world losing it.”

“but-”

“i’ll buy you more gifts in the future,” he continues, not letting you speak a single word. scaramouche’s cheeks turn red. “so stop crying over a stupid pencil and let me give you another gift.” you stare at him for five seconds before laughing. scaramouche’s head turns towards you, a scowl on his face. “wha- stop laughing! why are you laughing?!”

“sorry it’s just-” you giggle. “i didn’t expect you to be so… kind? i don’t even know the word for it.” you wipe a stray tear from your eye. “okay, i’ll stop looking for the pencil if it will make you happy. let’s go out on a date after school!”

scaramouche choked on his own spit. “h-huh?! why today? we have so many assignments due tomorrow!”

“aw, since when were you so diligent in assignments?” you tease, pinching scaramouche’s cheeks. “you said you’ll get me a gift, right? why don’t we get one today?”

“huh?! since when were people able to choose a date for receiving a gift?” scaramouche frowns. “i am not going to buy you a gift today. it’ll ruin the element of surprise.”

“so we’re still going on a date today?” you ask excitedly. “yay! thank you, scara!” you give him a kiss on his cheek, catching him off guard. “come on, let’s get to class! the sooner we get there the faster we finish.”

later when you and scaramouche are working on assignments in a nearby cafe, you find the pencil you have been looking for in the bottom of your bag, covered by the mess inside your bag (to which scaramouche berates you for, saying you’re not good at taking care of your items).

[vanishingstarrs]

midnight haze ( k. bakugo x reader, slow burn, hurt x comfort, anxiety, fluff )

part 1, part 2, part 3

It was late. You shouldn’t even be awake, but you couldn’t sleep with all that was going on in the world.

So you decided to do something productive: bake. You needed something to focus your energy onto and who didn’t love cookies? You were sure your dorm mates would appreciate some in the morning when they all awoke.

You had very minimal lighting, but were wearing your glasses so that wasn’t an issue. You also had a pair of earbuds in one ear so you could monitor for any noise or disturbances you may be causing by being up so late into the night. The music was soft and meant to be soothing, you hoped it might make you sleepy with time, but it didn’t take and eventually you sat down next to the oven while you waited for your timer to run out.

“What are you doing?”

You nearly jumped, your hand coming up to clutch your chest as you pulled out your earbud and looked up at the person standing there.

“Jesus, you’re quiet.”

“And you’re not.” The blond countered.

You frowned at him,“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

Bakugo sat down across from you, eyes glancing at the oven briefly before looking at you again,“How much longer?”

You glanced at your phone before looking at him and shrugging,“Seven minutes.”

He said nothing as he turned on the stove and placed a pot of water on. He stood and watched it until it was hot enough to pour into a mug with a teabag hanging off the side. He held it out to you, your eyes focused on the fact that it was his mug, his favorite color, his initial, his.

“For me?” You asked, unsure.

“Drink.” He said.

You took it and slowly took a sip, the tea was unfamiliar in taste and you figured it might also be one of his. Usually Momo was the one to offer you tea, you weren’t well versed in them, but did enjoy the taste whenever you had one.

“Did I really wake you up?” You asked as guilt settled in the pit of your stomach.

To your knowledge, Bakugo was a heavy sleeper.

He eyed your timer again.

“No.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t really know what else to say. You stopped the timer before it could make noise and stood up, placing the mug on the counter and picking up an oven mitt instead. The cookies smelt amazing as you pulled them out and part of you wanted to taste one, but the other part worried you’d get judged for eating it so late. Instead, you placed them on a rack to cool and took another sip of the tea.

You felt his gaze on you.

“Aren’t you gonna eat one?” He asked.

You shrugged for the second time,“They’re too hot right now, maybe tomorrow.”

“It’s already tomorrow.” He deadpanned.

There was no way your face wasn’t red as embarrassment flooded your mind, now you felt even worse for him being awake despite him saying it wasn’t your fault. The heat of the tea concealed your blush but fogged up your glasses, which was arguably even more mortifying, as you suddenly remembered that you were wearing them. No one ever saw you in them. You always made sure to wear your contacts in class and in costume for training, around anyone besides your parents.

Before you could do anything about it, the frames were plucked off your face and you watched dumbfounded as Bakugo used his t-shirt to clear them back up for you. You briefly eyed the tiny sliver of skin exposed by him using his shirt.

“Why can’t you sleep?” He brought the lenses up to his eyes to make sure they were good before placing them back on your face.

The question was unexpected, the whole interaction was, in fact. He was the last person you’d expect to care. Well… you didn’t know if he actually cared but still. You gulped, did you want to confide in him? You were never really close, I mean, sure, he didn’t yell at you the way he did the others and often times you’d worked together and managed to take care of your assignments without arguing. But you weren’t friends. At best, he tolerated you.

While you continued to hesitate, he walked over to the rack of cookies and plucked two out of the bunch. He bit into one, showing no signs of liking or hating it.

“How is it?” You couldn’t help seek validation, even if it was from him.

He held out the second cookie to you and you took it. One bite, two, they were fucking amazing. Not to toot your own horn, but if you were good at anything, it was baking.

He finished his off but said nothing on the taste or quality, you had a feeling chocolate chip wasn’t his favorite but didn’t dare ask what was.

“You gonna answer my question?”

You sighed and took another slow sip of tea before the mug was pulled from your hands and you watched Bakugo tip it back and down the rest. You watched with an open mouth as you didn’t know whether to be offended since he’d made it for you or go red at the fact that he’d drink from the same cup as you without care. As he rinsed the mug in the sink and set it down to wash later, he looked back at you with raised brows, okay…

“I’m worried.” You fidgeted with your fingers now that you didn’t have the mug to hold onto,“About Midoriya, about the fate of Japan… the world, actually. I wonder how it’ll all end, and whether all of us will—”

Your voice cracked, you took a deep breath,“You know?”

He sighed. “You gonna cry?”

Okay, that kinda hurt, you thought to yourself. Stubbornly, you held in your remaining feelings as you shook your head, you couldn’t say no or else you’d definitely shed a tear or two.

“Worrying won’t help him, or any of us.” He spoke up after a second,“What you need is rest, so that when they need us we’re able to do something. I know it’s all words or whatever, but that’s about all I can offer. Put your shit away, I’ll walk you back to your room, that tea should be kicking in any minute now.”

You looked at him with a questioning gaze and he scoffed.

“Relax. I didn’t slip you anything, I drank some too. It’s just some shit I buy, it soothes and helps you sleep. C’mon, I’m tired.”

You nodded and left it at that, quickly working to put your baked goods in a cute cookie jar you’d purchased once and writing a note for your classmates to help themselves and that they were fresh. You added that you’d clean up your dishes in the morning and your initials at the end with a smiley face. When you turned back around, Bakugo was waiting and he let you walk ahead of him.

It didn’t take long to reach you door, but when you did what he said surprised you.

“Leave your door open. Mine will be too.” He didn’t say it, but the implication was there. He’d be there if you needed anything.

“Okay.” Was all you responded with.

You didn’t know if it was the tea, or the fact that you felt a little lighter after telling someone a bit of what you were feeling, but you were definitely starting to feel tired and you couldn’t help reach up to rub one of your eyes.

“Nice glasses.” He teased.

You were thankful for the darkness to hide your blush as he ended it with,“Night.”

He was already walking away when you whispered so low he surely couldn’t have heard it,“Night… Bakugo.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum Of All 12

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Here, hopefully we’re not here too long,” Rogers puts down the shopping bags on the chaise. You watch his back, his shoulder blades defined through the fabric of his shirt. 

“You know, you didn’t have to buy all that...” you sit up. The food and water helped but you’re still a bit cloudy. 

“Never knew a woman to complain about getting new clothes,” he sniffs and turns to face you. “We could’ve stopped to grab some of yours if you hadn’t clocked out--” 

“Yeah well--” you stop yourself and shake your head. 

“Well... what?” He squints. 

“Nothing,” your heart jumps. “Nothing at all. It’s just... new places. Adjusting.” 

“No, say it,” he challenges, crossing his arms. He tilts his head down so he looks even more sinister. You gulp. 

“Really, it’s--” 

“Go on,” he smirks. 

He’s baiting you and you don’t want to bite. Plus, you’re unprepared for his sudden change. Just a moment ago, it was all fine. He was being nice-ish. 

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, you won’t say anything,” he corrects as he comes to the end of the bed. You turn your legs over the side and stare at the wall. “I want you to be honest, sweetheart, because I don’t like liars.” 

“I’m not lying...” you stand, “look, Thor said I could have a room of my own. Maybe I should go--” 

“You’re not. Like I said last night, one room is more secure.” 

“Yeah, but--” 

“Yeah but.” He interjects tersely. “My rules.” 

You stop and face him. You frown. 

“I see it written across your face,” he comes closer and your head wobbles slightly. Oh boy, you don’t like how he resembles a lion strutting towards an antelope. “Say what you were going to say.” 

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter--” 

“Matters to me.” 

“Why are you being like this? I didn’t do anything.” 

“Say it,” he demands. 

“Ugh, fine. If you hadn’t just swooped in and turned everything upside down, I probably wouldn’t have fainted, you know? But you just keep... throwing things at me. I had a job, a new apartment, I had everything I ever wanted--” 

“You don’t know what you want,” he scoffs. “That stuff’s boring. Sitting in an office, taking orders from some scum like Pete? You’re just trading one stuffed suit for another--” 

“But how would you know?” You challenge then slap your hand over your mouth. Shut up! 

He stands right before you. He uncrosses his arms and grips his hips instead. His cheek ticks. 

“You arguing with me?” 

You shake your head. 

“You want me to take you back? Hm, princess? You giving me orders?” 

You keep shaking your head. It makes you dizzy. You reach back with your other hand to cling to the night table. 

“Sound like you are,” he gets even closer. 

Your lashes flutter and your head bobs. No! You’re not going to-- 

You feel yourself tipping to the side and he’s quick to catch you, almost like it’s exactly what he wanted. He puts you back on your feet and holds you up as you fight through the haze. You put your hands down and puff out. 

“I’m fine. Okay?” You say. “Tired. I wasn’t prepared for all this and now you’re... you’re bullying me.” 

“Bullying?” He chuckles as his thumbs rub your arms. 

You look back and forth and shrug away from his grasp. You take and deep breath and sidle away from him. He shifts but doesn’t follow. 

“Intimidating me. But I guess that’s your job.” 

“Is it?” He challenges. 

“I don’t know. I assume.” 

“What do you think I do?” He asks. 

“Whatever,” you pace around the room, “you do what you do. What you did to that man on the street.” You stop and latch onto to the closest piece of furniture, “oh boy, that was...” 

“So, aren’t you happy I’m on your side,” he snickers. 

You look at him and furrow your brow. He’s mocking you. You shrug. 

“You know, I’m sure there’s people like you who can count.” You insist, “so why are you bothering me?” 

“Sure, there’s people like me,” he emphasizes the words, “who can keep a ledger but those people also tend to fudge the numbers.” 

“Right,” you fold your arms. 

“People like me,” he repeats again, “what does that mean? Hm? What am I?” 

Your frustration mounts. It’s like an interrogation. He wants you to say something wrong after you’ve been so careful. Your heart is racing and your eyelids are starting. No! 

You pull your arms apart and point up, making yourself steady. 

“You’re... just you, I guess.” 

“I’m a criminal? A monster? A bully?” He taunts. 

You pout. It doesn’t matter what you say. 

“I’m a made man. That’s a lot more than most boys can say these days. You would know better than me, I’m sure.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug again. 

“What don’t you know?” 

“Stop, please. You’re confusing me,” you plead. “What did I say? What did I do?” 

“You said something, sweetheart.” He comes at you again. “And you’re lucky you didn’t do it in front of anyone else.” 

“Wait, woah! You made me. I wasn’t going to. You said--” 

“You started,” he rebukes as you back away from him. “Oh, now you’re running from me? And why’s that? What’ve I done to make you so afraid? I catch you when you fall apart, keep you just fine enough. Paid you good too. So why so jumpy?” 

“I don’t know what you want!” You say and your legs hit something behind you. You let out a yelp as you fell, somersaulting backwards over the chaise as the shopping bag heap down around you. You roll over and look up at the laughter that peels through the air. 

“Jeez, sweetheart, you’re gonna hurt yourself when you’re so worried about me hurtin’ you,” he stands on the other side. “That’s what I don’t like. I haven’t done anything to warrant that thought.” 

You stare up at him helplessly. He bends over the chaise, spreading his large hand on the cushion as he offers his other. You take it and he hauls you to your feet. 

“Just remember who’s the one keeps picking you back up,” he says. 

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I’m absolutely obsessed with your writing! I was hoping I could request a one-shot where Daryl and fem!reader are married. They are working on separate outdoor projects but Daryl can’t stop watching the reader throughout the day. The dirtiest thoughts cross his mind as he watches her. Later that evening when they are home and finally alone he recreates all those thoughts with her throughout the night. Daryl has a pleasure and praise kink, includes oral, Daryl loves going down on the reader!

*Set during later Alexandria or Commonweath era (Daryl never goes to France!)

STOP IT RIGHT TF NOW ANON CAUSE WHY HAVENT I THOUGHT OF A PLEASURE KINK. DROOLING RN

Heres me admitting im only on season 9 of TWD so this takes place in Alexandria 😿

A/n: Thought I’d actually title this bc reading it again months later I just think it needs one 🥸

gif creds @daryl-dixon-daydreams

BUSY BEE

Daryl was going to simply pass away and die.

He hated his own mind for it’s never-ending thoughts, even more so when he had a literal job to be doing. His racing thoughts had been distracting him the whole day, occasionally using the wrong tool, knocking something over, and even almost spilling all the oil at one point.

It was just the way your hips looked, so well rounded in those jeans, shirt clinging to your body as you walked quickly with your own tasks in mind, not noticing your husband’s hardcore staring.

His mind was bursting with thoughts of what horribly dirty things he wanted to do to you. Sometimes he physically can’t wrap his head around how he ended up with someone like you. All Daryl could think about was just how bad he wanted to fuck you, cock already stirring to life in his pants.

No. No. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t be seen not doing his task and also now needed to hide the tent forming in his pants. It was worse that he was out in the open, having been assigned to work on the cars to keep them running longer.

You had been assigned to ask around to see what was needed for the next run, only for some reason you had timed yourself to get to everyone in under an hour, hence your quick pace and focused gaze. Daryl had seen you walk past at least three times, each time you sped past while furiously scribbling on a notepad. He felt like a teenager watching and obsessing over his crush.

God, he was so ready to blow himself up, staring down at under the hood of one of the cars used for runs. He forced his mind to focus on fixing shit instead of wandering off. Rick had been saying that the brakes had been failing, only Daryl couldn’t exactly do much without a jackstand.

He decided to test the car battery instead since it had been having trouble starting. Stepping around the car to the toolbox, he almost tripped as you bumped right into him. “Bulky bitch!” You yelped as you fell down onto your ass, dropping your pen and paper. Daryl gently but quickly pulled you to your feet, picking your stuff up. “Tha’ hell ya runnin’ from girl?” He stepped closer to you, sliding a hand to your waist. “I’m a very busy woman with places to be and times to beat” You rolled your eyes, yet smiled softly at Daryl. “Too busy fer me now?” You nodded, leaning up as if to kiss him but going for his ear instead. “Very busy” You whispered sweetly, placing a faint kiss on his cheek before speeding away again.

Daryl simply stood there with his cock straining harshly against the fabric of his pants, cock pulsating as he could feel himself leaking pre-cum. He should just blow his goddamn brains out, now.

He slammed the hood of the car shut and climbed inside, dropping his head onto the steering wheel. It felt like his head was about to fall off with how many filthy thoughts were flooding in. You were the biggest tease and absolutely knew it, sweat dripping down his face as he tried to silence his brain, hands gripping the steering wheel. He wasn’t about to jerk off inside a car with the clearest windows ever, at that point he might as well do it out in the open.

While Daryl was suffering silently, you were simply serene as you rocked on the porch swing of your house, turning in the list to Rick right before your timer hit fifteen minutes. You toyed with the ring on your finger, smiling down as you thought of how Daryl refused to get you something small. He had found a jewelry shop out on a secret run and spent an hour overthinking and questioning himself before finding the perfect ring. It was a sliver band with clusters of smaller diamonds around a larger one that so happened to be the shape of a skull, matching the one he wore every day. He smashed the glass without a second thought.

You smile fondly, also remembering that the same man was probably struggling to do his work. Getting him super worked up was your favorite thing to do as he basically melted in your hands the second he stepped foot inside.

Speaking of inside, you had stepped in earlier to change out your underwear, switching into a black thong you found. You could practically feel Daryl’s hands roaming your body, shivers running down your spine at the tingling sensation.

Whilst you were enjoying yourself, Daryl was still sitting in the car, staring down at the steering wheel as he tried to focus his mind on anything else, aside from the cocky sway of your hips, and the ghost of your lips against his ears.

He needed to get off badly. The only thing really stopping him were these shitty windows, however he proceeded to begin rubbing his hand on his clothed cock, letting out a shaky moan. Daryl slammed his hands back onto the steering wheel, gripping it tightly as he tried to recenter himself. He thought for a moment, sweat rolling down the back of his neck.

The car door swung open and he kicked it shut behind him, walking quickly to avoid anyone who might wanna talk, quickly making his way back home. He passed Carol, who was sitting out on her swing. She waved and he gave a short wave back, trying his hardest to keep his hard-on concealed as he sped past.

He stepped heavily up the stairs, the wooden porch creaking under his weight as he opened and shut the front door. It was remotely quiet as he kicked his shoes off next to yours, tearing his shirt off as he stomped upstairs to your shared bedroom, where he found you in one of his shirts lying on your stomach reading a book, closing it at the sound of your husband's arrival. “Already stripping nude for me, Dixon?” You pushed yourself onto your knees and he approached the bed, grabbing your face rougher than intended and crashing his lips onto yours.

It seemed like in that moment, Daryl’s hyperactive mind finally shut itself down, his shoulders relaxing as his hands held your soft face, licking into your mouth desperately. Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers splayed out on his upper back as he moved to join you on the bed, readjusting you so your legs rested comfortably on either side of his hips. There was a burning desire in his gut as he sucked harshly on your skin, grinding against you as he did.

Daryl’s hands stayed locked at your hips, massaging and groping the flesh as he continued marking up your whole body, practically eating you. He reached your boobs and ran his tongue over the right one and started to suck deep marks into the sensitive flesh.

His hips picked up speed, becoming erratic before burying his face in space between your boobs, shaking as he literally came in his pants. It was the hottest thing you’d seen. “Feeling better?” You whispered breathlessly, watching him groan and lift himself sluggishly off your chest. “M’not done yet” His words were slightly slurred as he leaned back on his knees, hands fumbling to undo his pants.

You eventually reached down to unzip his zipper, and he was back on you instantly, shoving his boxers down enough to free his hard and dripping cock, precum pouring from the puffy tip. “God, Daryl, you’re so needy tonight” You moaned as he pulled down your pajama shorts, eyes staring down at the black thong. “Yes tha’ hell I am” He whispered, hands sliding up your sides and he slid down, cock pulsing as he got a look at your cunt even with the thong on. There was just so much he wanted to do to you that it was overwhelming his senses.

He ran his tongue up and in between your folds, tasting you through the measly garment. He rubbed circles in your clit as his tongue explored every inch, slipping past the thong and into your entrance, causing your brain to short-circuit as he worked you to release, especially since his own was drying in his underwear. Alongside his tongue, Daryl eased two fingers in, stretching and scissoring you open, his tongue going in much deeper and curling. “Fuck yes, baby just like that” You bit your bottom lip harshly, sliding your own fingers down to stimulate your clit, knowing how to push yourself off the edge quicker. He got so fucking hard at the sight of you playing with yourself, even more so that it was your ring finger, the diamond skull standing out as your fingers sped up. Daryl pulled his tongue out, continuing to move his fingers as he licked your clit, a strangled sob coming from you as you came.

Daryl settled for unleashing another attack on your torso while you recovered from your orgasm, licking, kissing, sucking, and biting at the smooth flesh of your stomach, one hand holding your thigh over his shoulder, and the other resting right by your boob, his thumb teasingly stroking the skin under it. He felt every curse, moan and gasp you let out, licking right in between your already marked boobs, kissing the junction of your throat all the way up to your lips. The head of his cock nudged your pussy slightly, and the heat of the kiss had you dizzy. “C’mon handsome, I can’t wait much longer” You batted your lashes at him, running your hand down his one of his big arms, your ring shimmering in the dim lamp light.

Your other hand slid in between your bodies to shift your soaked thong to the side, pulling him closer by wrapping your legs around his waist. He used one hand to steady his cock, and gripped the headboard as he slammed in, two of you moaning in unison. Daryl’s cock was more sensitive than ever, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he readjusted himself, pounding roughly into you as you gripped his bicep.

Daryl’s thrusts were relentless as he kept his pace up, bed creaking and headboard slamming as he panted like a dog, watching the way his cock was sliding in and out of you, a giant wet spot forming on his jeans as he showed no signs of stopping. “My big strong man, always fucking me so good with your fat cock” You bit down on your lips as one of your hands came to rest on his cheek. He turned his face to the side, kissing your palm while staring into your eyes with a lovingly lustful gaze. “M’all yers, m’gon always give my woman wha’ she wants” His voice was raspy and breathless against your hand before he locked your fingers together, pinning your hands onto the mattress and dipping his head down to press his forehead against yours, simply panting into each others spaces.

From how tightly you were holding hands, your rings dug into one another’s fingers, and it only turned Daryl on more. You were his and he was yours. “M’so proud ta call ya Mrs. Dixon. Gon fill ya up w all my kids” He whispered, bumping his strangely cold button nose against yours. “Let’s just start with one?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears, and by the way Daryl’s hips had sped up you could tell he was close “Not one now!” You shrieked, nails digging into his hands as he railed your sweet spot, orgasm already hitting him incredibly hard as he practically laughed in your ear from how hard he came, pulling out just a little too late.

He fell on top of you, but recoiled when something wet touched his navel, eyes flickering down to see his cum soaking into the black fabric of your thong and seeping out your hole. “Gonna clean that up for me?” You winked suggestively at him, and he lowered himself to be eye level with your messy cunt, massive hands spreading you further apart as he licked his lips. “Yes ma’am”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I made myself very horny writing this but I also kept falling asleep as I was writing

also I based both rings off Normans ring :3 (he should put his finger in my body)

[hyuckswoman]

“are you going to bother me again?” you sigh seeing jisung putting his stuff in the empty spot next to you

“of course i am, how is that even a real question?” he says smiling getting ready for the class “do you have a major degradation kink or something? I fail to understand why you would take so much time off your day to piss me off” you ask your eyes trying to scrutinize him. “you talk weird ‘fail to understand’ okay mrs english major” he laughs taking his pen out of his pencil case writing down calculus quietly sighing at how this class was going to beat his ass “whatever” you sigh getting your stuff out to also get ready for the class. your teacher was pissy and scary also you did not want to get overwhelmed so quickly during the semester. in other words, you were not going to let jisung win.

“do you need help jisung?” the teacher was doing quick rounds in the class, assuring that his students were not getting overwhelmed by the exercise he had just assigned. the multivariable calculus class was almost empty for a reason and he did not want to lose his job, so he had to at least make sure the few students attending his class weren’t failing.

upon hearing the teacher’s question, jisung’s first instinct was to look up at you to see if you were making fun of him or not. call him insecure but he had kind of always been jealous of how easy the material was for you. when you threatened to haunt him to- and i quote- mess up his academics he kinda laughed because in all honesty? he was capable of that all on his own. and judging by the look on his teacher’s face when jisung replied “no i’m fine thank you”, he wasn’t the only one who knew that he and him alone could fuck up this college year.

when the teacher quietly called for your name and asked you to help jisung you wanted to laugh in his face and to tell him no, but something about an older man that’s a figure of authority in your life made you immediately respond “yea no problem” because in no way were you ever going to say no to this scary scary man. jisung debated in between being super embarrassed by the fact that he was the only one who struggled with the material (he wasn’t but he’s self-centered so he doesn’t notice other people) or in being slightly happy that the teacher was giving him an easy way to make your life living hell for the next 30ish minutes.

you mentally sighed as you knew what was coming but still glided your paper over to jisung’s side to at least give it one fair try and then automatically give up when he doesn’t take you seriously. so you began to explain. “in this example we’re trying to find this partial derivative so x is the constant right? so basically what you have to do is apply this limit formula since y is the constant and the derivative is with respect to x. the reason why we can use this limit formula is because the limit definition of this partial derivative is basically the same as the one for the derivative. im sorry if that wasn’t super clear but just yea i’m shit at explaining” you say fully expecting him to throw a jab at you for being a nerd (as if you guys don’t share the same classes)

“no i get it, thank you. i just don’t understand why we’re not considering the other variables” he says furrowing his brows further “it’s because that’s not what’s asked when doing partial differentiation that’s it. we’re focusing one variable at a time that’s why it’s partial…i think” you answer “oh okay that makes sense. so for this one this would be the answer?” he asked showing you his notebook. he has neat handwriting. atypical for a man. “yea, at least that’s also what i found but we might both be wrong” you shrug not too confident in your own answer (even if you literally cannot think of any other way to solve this mess).

and if him taking you seriously when you explained the material instead of bothering you or making fun of you did not surprise you enough, him constantly showing you his answers and asking you questions for the rest of class did. what really shocked you to your core was when he asked if you could tutor him with some classes some day, seeing as tough you guys literally shared every class.

he was also very shocked when you replied “no, suck my dick you ass. im not forgiving you for snooping through my phone just yet”. and he laughed a lot. this semester was really going to be fun for him.

4. no tutoring

last chapter masterlist next chapter

notes : sorry for the late chapter!

taglist: @kgyam4 @sunghoonsgfreal @injunnie-lemon @nctrawberries @222low @multifandomania @joyzluvr @starwonb1n @222brainrot @sinsgaybutthatsokay @defzcl @lostinneocity @junviadinho @mrshwang-park @skepvids @wonbin-truther @jkslvsnella @jising-jisang-jisung @nanaxwi @polarisjisung @amrqxz @jirsungs @haechansbbg @dalsosapple @pookime @pinklemonade34 @lotties-readings @roseangelxfuma @jiiieun @inosfavgf @mystverse

[theemporium]

Congrats on 10k! I absolutely love your writing! It always makes me feel warm and fuzzy 💕

I was wondering if I could request violet fluff 💜 prompt #31 with James Potter? Thanks so much, hope you’re having a great day 🥰

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

31. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met."

.

James Potter honestly thought he was losing his mind.

He liked to pride himself over the fact he was good with people: talking to them, understanding them, observing them. He was a social butterfly and fairly empathetic, and he could talk to a brick wall and somehow still make it one of the most entertaining conversations people have ever witnessed. 

He tended to thrive in social situations, basking in the attention when the spotlight was on him. He was never made for the shadows or outskirts. He was made to be the person someone could always rely on in public, the one who could change the conversation when needed or keep things from becoming stagnant and awkward. 

But all of those skills felt redundant and useless when it came to you. 

Because, here’s the thing—James is, like, ninety-nine percent sure that you aren’t doing it on purpose which honestly makes the whole thing worse.

James Potter is not a subtle man. Far from it, if anyone is concerned. He is open with his feelings and wants and desires and dreams. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he wears it proudly. And he has been flirting with you since day one. 

And you flirt back. He swears you flirt back. Hell, despite the way they mocked how lovesick and besotted he was, even his friends were sure you flirted back because that was the only way to describe your banter. It was flirty and teasing and, on some occasions, mimicked that of an old married couple.

But just when James thinks he is finally getting somewhere with you, you pull a total one-eighty on him and he is left thinking that you are unaware of it all. That maybe—just fucking maybe—you are oblivious to James’ obvious and unsubtle attempts. 

He is also pretty sure you don’t realise that half of your hangouts with the boy were his attempts at asking you on a date. 

And he was losing his goddamn mind. 

It’s almost ironic that all it would take was a potions assignment for things to come together.

“It’s a simple potion, there really shouldn’t be any mistakes or problems,” Slughorn announced as he wandered through the room, his robes swishing behind him with each step. “If you have any problems, just ask but this potion should be easy for your age.”

And the thing was, yeah, it was pretty easy. James looked at the instructions and it was something he could have done with his eyes closed if he really wanted to. 

But Remus wasn’t in class today, instead deciding to take the day off with the full moon having just passed. And your usual partner wasn’t in either. And now you were partners together and you were really pretty and, honestly, James couldn’t be blamed for being a little distracted. 

He also didn’t know that fucking up the potion would turn it into an accidental truth serum. 

In fact, he didn’t even realise until the two of you were too busy laughing at Slughorn demanding the two of you go to the bathrooms to clean up, halfway down the corridor when he turned to look at you and just blurted out the words before he could stop himself.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

You paused, shoes squeaking against the floor as you looked at him with wide eyes. “What did you say?” 

And before he could even try to come up with an excuse, he was talking again. “I said you’re pretty. Because you are. I always think you’re pretty but you’re prettier when you laugh.”

You blinked. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do,” James retorted, almost snorting a little at the incredulous tone of your voice. “I think you’re one of the most gorgeous girls in this world. It’s why I flirt with you, like, every day.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Oh.”

“I’ve been in love with you since the day we met,” James continued because he couldn’t really bring himself to stop. “And I really want to kiss you all the time. I just don’t know if you like me back or not.”

“I do,” you blurted out, but there was a smile on your face—even if it was a little shy. “I do like you back. And I want to kiss you too.” 

“Sweet,” James grinned and then, because he was a man of action and promises, he closed the distance between the two of you. 

His warm palms cupped your cheek, his body pressed against every inch of your own before he kissed you. It was dizzying and slightly surreal. It made your head spin when his tongue swiped over your lips before exploring your mouth. It made your knees buckle when a low groan sounded from the back of his throat.

But it was everything the two of you wanted and more. 

And yeah, maybe James Potter was going to lose his mind if this was how good it felt to kiss you.

.

[vodika-vibes]

Just One Date

Summary: You're a Military Doctor attached to the 212, and you've come to consider Commander Cody as a friend. Turns out, that he sees you a little bit more.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 1333

Warnings: Cody makes suggestive jokes, and gets whacked with pillows and has a hand slapped over his mouth for it.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: HAPPY 2224 Day! I came up with this idea at 5:30 this morning when I originally woke up and when I remembered what today was. There might, possibly, be a sequel where the date actually happens. It depends on people's reactions to this one.

You’ve been a civilian employee to the GAR since you were old enough to enlist. The military wasn’t exactly your “dream” career, but it got you away from your incredibly toxic family, and it paid you to go to medical school.

And, really, at the time the odds of there actually being a war was slim to non-existent.

Jokes on you, the war started 6 months after you graduated and you found yourself bouncing from military base to military base, before finally getting assigned to The Negotiator, under General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody.

The Commander is everything you’ve ever wanted in a Senior Officer, respectful and professional when the situation calls for it, but more than happy to share jokes with you when you’re not working.

The General, however, is a walking migraine.

At this point, you’re beginning to think that your job would be easier if you were assigned to literally any other battalion.

“General Kenobi,” You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Did you, perhaps, skip your basic first aid lessons as a child?”

Helix, working on Commander Cody at the bed behind you, doesn’t bother to muffle his laughter, but you tune him out with the ease of long practice, instead pinning your General with an accusing glare.

“Well,” General Kenobi rubs his chin thoughtfully, “I was a very busy padawan-”

“So, perhaps, you skipped the basic first aid classes that say when you get stabbed, do not remove the stabbing implement?” You interrupt.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I skipped the lessons-” He demures.

“And your reasoning for ignoring Commander Cody’s very reasonable order to not remove the knife from your thigh?” You ask.

“...uh…I was in shock?”

You smile. It’s a nice smile, and you’re pleased to see General Kenobi slump on the hospital bed, “Well, since you ignored your Commander’s very reasonable, and correct, order. You’re going to spend the next three days in a bacta tank.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to use bacta tanks as a punishment.” General Kenobi says thoughtfully.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to argue with me.” You counter with a roll of your eyes. “Relax, General. It’s not a punishment. You’re more injured than you look. And maybe you can get some sleep if I drug you enough.”

General Kenobi sputters, “Commander! Are you hearing this?”

“Hm? What? I’m not listening.” Cody says with a sly smirk.

“Well, there you have it. The Commander’s on my side.” You say brightly, as you spin to grab a syringe of the sedative that was especially formulated for Jedi. “Good night, General.”

“This is mutiny,” General Kenobi says with a frown.

“Yes, yes. I know.” You inject the liquid into his IV, “We’ll see you in a couple of days.” The older man slowly drifts off to sleep, and you pass the General over to the men who can get him into a bacta tank easier than you.

And then you spin on your heel and move over to Commander Cody, who’s laying on his hospital bed very peacefully, a small grin playing on his lips. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask, as you grab his file and scan it.

“Well, I was blown up, mesh’la.” Commander Cody says blandly.

“Well, that was silly of you. Why would you do something like that?”

“I woke up this morning and thought, ‘how can I make my medics pull their hair out today?’ and decided that getting blown up was the best way to go about it.”

You smother your laugh and glance at him, “One of these days Helix is actually going to kill you.”

“But you’ll protect me won’t you?”

“Of course.” You wink at him, “Everyone knows I’m the scary one.” You scan his record for a moment, and then favor him with a smile, “Aside from some bumps and bruises, you look totally fine.”

He grins at you, “So you like how I look, do you?”

You sigh, “Commander, that joke got old within a week of working with any of you.”

Cody just laughs and sits up, “Come on, Doc. I won’t tell. We both know that I’m the most handsome.”

“One of these days,” You counter as you set your hands on your hips, “I’m going to buy a box of chocolates and address it to ‘the most handsome man in the 212’ just to see who wins.”

“Aww, mesh’la, you don’t have to buy me chocolates.”

“Ooh, someone’s cocky.”

“You have no idea.” He flashes a boyish grin, “I could show you, if you like.”

You squint at him, “What?”

“Just how cocky I am.” Cody clarifies with a sly grin.

Your jaw drops and your face burns, before you grab the thin pillow and smack him with it, “Behave!”

Cody laughs, as he fends off the pillow, “What? I just repeated what you said. It’s not my fault that your brain lives in the gutter.”

“Rude. Rude!” You huff, “I changed my mind, I’m not going to protect you from Helix. RIP Commander Cody. I knew you well.”

“C’mon mesh’la,” He teases, “Having a dirty mind is a boon. Well, I think. Especially if it’s dirty about me.” Cody reaches out and lightly grips your hips, tugging you closer.

You scowl at him, though it’s really more of a pout, “You know, there are almost 2 million men identical to you-”

“Yeah, yeah. But you don’t have dirty thoughts about them.” Cody replies confidently.

“You’re so sure of that?”

“Yup.”

You shake your head, “Come on, Commander. You’re hardly a mind-reader.”

“I don’t have to be. I see how you look at me.” He says with a smirk.

“And how do I look at you?” You ask sarcastically.

Cody’s smirk grows into an amused grin, “Like you wanna drag me into a supply closet and ri-” You slam your hands over his mouth.

“Okay! Thank you!” You yelp, your face burning. “Why do people think you’re the mature one?” You bemoan.

“Because I play the part well,” He says smugly, his voice muffled by your hand. 

“Can I remove my hand or are you still going to try and embarrass me?” You ask.

“I like it when you get all embarrassed, it’s cute.” Cody replies before he pulls your hands away from his mouth, and then presses them to the bed next to him without releasing them.

“Hm, you seem to have forgotten to release my hands.” You say dryly.

“I didn’t forget. I did it on purpose.” He says, his dark eyes scanning your face.

“And why would you do that?”

“Go on a date with me.” Cody says.

You blink at him, startled. “I beg your pardon?”

“One date,” He clarifies, “That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Commander-”

“Cody.” He interrupts, his gaze serious, “One night. Let me show you how good we could be together.”

You avert your gaze for a second, and you know that he can feel your heart racing with how he’s holding your hands still. “Commander, we’re not going to be returning to Coruscant for several months-”

“Cody, and I don’t care. I can woo you even on the Negotiator. Give me a chance.”

“And if we don’t go well together at the end of the night? What then?”

“We’re going to be great,” Cody counters, “But, if,” He rolls his eyes, “For some reason, we don’t work out, then nothing will change.”

“Com-”

He tugs your wrists so that you topple against him, “Cody. My name isn’t that hard, is it?”

“...Cody.” You finally say with a sigh, though there’s a small smile playing on your lips, “I suppose, since you’re so eager, I can agree to a single night.”

“There's going to be more than one.” Cody says confidently. 

You hum thoughtfully, “Prove it.”

He grins at you boyishly, “I can do that. I already have the whole thing planned.”

“...How?” You ask, exasperated.

“I’m very good at what I do.” He replies smugly.

[atomicami]

the perfect fit

model!abby anderson x fashion designer!reader

- summary: it’s the start of your new job working for armani as a fashion designer, and your first assignment is to design and create a suit for an upcoming runway event. despite the fact that you can’t stand your chosen model, you also can’t help but find her very attractive too.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, nyc living, reader has a degree in fashion design, reader is a bit of a perfectionist, model!abby, abby’s a little cocky, work sex, fingering & strap usage (r!receiving), abby refers to her strap as her cock, size kink, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: so i was highly inspired by this abby x model!reader fic that i decided to try to write out a fic of my own with this new pairing!! i hope y’all like it :)

also dedicating this one to my girl @whore4abby ily darling 🤍

New York City was always known to be the place where one’s dreams were meant to fly as high as the skyscrapers that rose in its urban atmosphere. It was known to be the perfect capital city for all professions, including fashion.

Living in New York had always been the dream for you, and although you were now residing there for school, you weren’t exactly fulfilling your dreams just yet. So when you had called your parents one day to break the bad news to them, you knew that they weren’t going to be on board with your sudden change of plans.

“You’re switching majors? But why?” your dad asked through the phone. “I thought you wanted to study law.”

No, you didn’t. Your parents had been telling everyone they knew in your small town that you were going to major in law after high school and become the best lawyer to walk the streets of New York, and as a result, you couldn’t help but select that major just to please them.

“I don’t, Dad…If you had listened to me in the first place, you would know that I never wanted to do that,” you tell him.

“Well, that’s alright, law school isn’t for everyone now.” your dad told you before continuing. “What are you going to study instead? Medicine? Psychology? Business?”

You took a deep breath before continuing. “Fashion design…” you mutter back to him.

You can already imagine the outburst he was going to have. It was almost as if you could feel the anger bubbling within him through the phone.

“Fashion?! Are you seriously out of your mind?!” your dad exclaimed back at you. His reaction was so uncalled for that you had to take him off of speakerphone.

And after a long lecture from him later, he simply told you that he wasn’t going to pay for your tuition anymore before hanging up the phone.

Even though you were expecting that kind of reaction from your parents, your father more specifically, you still couldn’t help but feel so…discouraged. You’ve been wanting to be a fashion designer ever since you were little, and your parents’ lack of support did nothing but steal your happiness in fulfilling your dreams.

But at the same time…you felt determined to prove them wrong. You wanted to show them that you weren’t making this change just take the easy way out, you were doing it because you’ve been wanting to pursue this career your whole life. You wanted to show them that you were meant to be working in a fashion studio, not a courtroom.

Fast forward to now, and you’ve graduated from Parsons at the top of your class with a fashion degree, only to soon land a job working as a fashion designer at one of Giorgio Armani’s establishments right here in New York City.

Once the first day of your new job came around, you needed to give the best impression there, making sure to arrive before your boss did. After all, if it weren’t for Tess selecting you as one of the potential candidates as a fashion designer for that establishment, you’d probably still be job hunting by now.

You sat at your desk, eyeing the surroundings of the large studio you were in at this moment. All of the fabrics, mannequins, tools, and machines just waiting to be used. It still felt like a fever dream to you.

The sound of the opening doors of the warehouse startles you, causing you to and some of the designers in the studio to turn around, while the others are still chattering.

Tess walks into the studio and stands in the middle of the room before bringing everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone,” she shouts with a loud clap of her hands, causing the rest of the room to quiet down. “I have decided to put you all in charge of creating the looks for Armani’s upcoming winter fashion show. Each of you will be given a model to work on, and you are welcome to create whatever you’d like, as long as it meets the requirements for the show.”

“But, isn’t the winter fashion show only a month from now?” one of the designers asked.

“Yes, Yes it is, actually,” Tess replies with a nod. “So I expect to see the best work done by you all within the time being. I’d like to see how well my designers can work under pressure.”

You let out a sigh in frustration and held your face in your hands. How the hell were you going to have a look ready in just a month?

Tess checks the time on her watch before looking up at the clock for reassurance. “The models should be arriving any minute now, once they get here I’ll be assigning them out to everyone, and we’ll start today off by taking their measurements and sketching out designs. When you are finished, I—“ Her words are cut off by the sound of the warehouse doors opening again.

You look over again with the rest of the designers to see another staff member enter the room with a variety of models trailing behind her in a single file line. She then approaches Tess to talk to her for a brief moment before soon exiting the warehouse by herself. “Alright everyone,” Tess shouts out again, looking down at the clipboard that was in her hands. “When I call out your name to your assigned model, I would like you to stand up from your desk so they know who you are.”

As Tess begins to assign the models, the sound of a chair swiveling over to your left makes you turn your head, and you see that it was Dina scooching closer to you. “See anyone you might like?” she whispers over to you, her eyes still fixed on the line of models in the room.

“I honestly could care less about who Tess puts me with,” you whisper back to her, leaning back against your chair and crossing one of your legs over the other. “As long as they don’t give me a hard time, I should be good.”

Dina nods in response, she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of Tess calling out your name. As a result, you rise from your seat and stand behind your desk.

“You’ll be working with Anderson as your model,” she tells you, and you watch as Tess looks over to your model and points at you, indicating her to walk over to where you were.

Intimidation strikes through you as she approaches your desk. You can’t really put your finger on it, but from the first impression, you’re quite convinced it's because of her broad figure that stood out from everyone else. You look over to Dina, to which she looks back at you and simply mouths a ‘good luck’ on your end.

Tess soon does a quick check around the room, making sure each designer has a model to work with. “Alright, now that everyone has an assigned model, you can all get started. Remember now, the winter show is a month from today, so I hope you can all make the best use of your time.” and with that, she exits the studio, leaving you and the rest of the designers to be.

Abby has her side resting against your desk, watching you draw out some looks on your sketchbook. “Just so you know…” she starts, leaning in closer to your right side. “I’m like, the biggest model here, so don’t be surprised when you run out of fabric for that pretty outfit you’ve planned out for me.”

You look over to Abby and roll your eyes before setting your pencil down and opening the side drawer of your desk. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you tell her as you take out the soft tape measure from your drawer and stand up from your seat. “Come on, let me take your measurements now.”

Based on that first interaction alone, you knew that Abby was going to be a distraction for your project, and boy you were right.

This past month has felt like hell for you, and Abby’s cocky, conceited persona wasn’t making it any better for you.

Things were fine at first, at least enough for you to manage. But it wasn’t until the second fitting that she’s been starting to really get on your nerves.

The fitting room in the Armani establishment was spacious, each designer/model pair had their spot to do the fittings and make any adjustments if needed.

Abby walks over to your side of the fitting room fully dressed in her runway outfit. You had beautifully created a navy blue suit that complimented her freckled skin and blue eyes perfectly, and the entire outfit had Swarovski crystals sewn all over the place. It was a timeless and classic look for the show.

It’s a shame that your model has to be so arrogant for the time being.

You look over to her and snap your fingers. “Stand over there,” you tell her, pointing over to the small, round altar that was next to you. Abby simply obliges and stands up on the altar to face you, both of her hands crossed at her front.

You notice this and walk over to her, grabbing at her hands. “I need your hands at your sides, you’re a model, not a security guard.” you tell her sternly, separating her hands so each one is at her side. You then sit down on the stool behind you, bringing yourself down to face her lower half so you can check the fitting of her suit pants.

Starting at the bottom of her pants and making your way up, the pants seem to fit well on her so far. Given Abby’s large build, the fit is as snug as can be, but not too tight to where it would make her uncomfortable when walking. If you had made it any tighter, you’re convinced that the fabric might rip.

However, it wasn’t until you look at the waistline of the pants. For some reason, that area looked unusually tighter than it was compared to the last fitting. The zipper on her pants looked like it was going to burst. It’s almost as if she was hiding something underneath…

You tap the side of her thigh to get her attention, causing her to tilt her head down. ”What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the slight bulge that was sticking out of her pants.

She simply smirks back at you and shakes her head. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” she mumbles out, looking back up.

Your eyes were still fixed on her face, and you grabbed at her crotch, causing her to slightly jerk back. You knew damn well what it was that she had in those pants.

“Jesus,” she says, looking back down at you. “Chill out, will you?”

“Take it off,” you tell her sternly, standing back up from the stool. “I’m not going to have my look completely ruined as a result from one of your little games.”

You were close to having an outburst in the middle of the fitting room since you were starting to get some looks from some of the other designers and models in the room, including Dina. It was a good thing that Tess wasn’t there to see it though.

Abby simply rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat before stepping off of the altar and exiting the fitting room to go change. The two of you were being quite immature about this, but you were seriously in need of your look to be perfect for the show, and Abby was keeping you from doing so.

A couple more weeks pass by and before you know it, the day of the show is just right around the corner from now.

Your shift at the studio had just ended, and people were starting to gather their things to leave, while you still sat by your large mannequin, making adjustments and adding touches to your look.

Dina walks up behind you and taps your shoulder, causing you to pull out one of your headphones from your ear and turn around.

“Hey,” she says. “Some of us are going to head out to Dalton’s for drinks. Wanna come with?”

You shake your head in response. “I can’t, I really have to finish this look in time for the show, I have to make sure everything’s perfect.”

You hear her let out a sigh and nod. “Alright well, just don’t stress yourself out, okay?” she asks, gently squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she says, and you nod back at her as you watch her put her bag over her shoulder and exit the studio.

Once she leaves, you notice Tess at walking towards you at the corner of your eye. “Hey kid,” she says leaning against your desk with her arms crossed, keys jingling in one of her hands. “You plan on leaving soon?”

You let out a sigh and turned your head to face her. “Just let me stay a little longer, Tess…I promise I’ll be out of here soon.”

She sighs back and hesitates for a moment while rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, I’ll give you an hour, but that’s it. I don’t want you spending the night here.” She then gets off your desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, the doors will lock automatically once you leave.”

You nod in response and thank her before watching her walk away from the dim lighting that shined on your side of the studio. You were instantly relieved to be able to have some time for yourself to work on the suit.

However, that doesn’t last long when another set of footsteps enter the studio and begin to approach you from behind once again.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder, this time causing you to jump up and turn around in fear for a moment before realizing who it is. “Jesus, Anderson…you scared the hell out of me,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “What are you even doing here? Your final fitting isn’t until Friday.”

Abby lets out a chuckle at your frightened reaction and shakes her head. “I just came here to get my car keys,” she says, grabbing them off the shelf where she had left them. “I left them last time I was here.”

You rolled your eyes and stood back up to face your desk and away from her. “Well, now that you have your keys, can you go now? I need to keep working.”

As you were about to put your headphones back on, Abby began to speak once again. “What’s your deal?” she asks you.

You let out a huff and set your phone down before looking back at her. “My deal is that I’ve had to deal with your arrogance this past month and it’s been driving me insane. All I want right now is to have this time to myself so I can finish this suit in time for the show.”

The smirk that was growing on Abby’s face right now was so big you could practically see it from your peripheral vision. She then begins to walk around until she’s behind you on your desk. “It seems like you could loosen up a bit, you know…” she tells you as she slightly leans in closer to your ear, trapping you between your desk and her chest. You could already feel a familiar bulge poking at your lower back. It was that same bulge that you were just grabbing at in the fitting room not too long ago.

You roll your eyes at her in response. “Is that so?” you whisper back to her, just enough so she can hear you. “And what might that be, exactly?”

Her hands make their way down to your waist, grabbing you and turning you around so you are now face-to-face with her. “How about I show you, yeah?” she whispers to you, to which you nod desperately.

Despite how much you couldn’t stand her, you really couldn’t help but be into her at the same time, and not only has she also been aware of it, but she felt the same way with you too.

You feel her hands move from your waist down to the buttons of your pants, and you look down at your lap as a result. “Let’s see what we have here now…” she murmurs, slowly undoing your pants and sliding them off your legs and to the ground. Once your pants were fully removed, she helped give you a boost so you could sit up on your desk.

Abby instantly opens your legs the second your ass hits your desk, immediately eyeing the visible wet patch that was seeping through your black underwear. “Well well well, what do we have here…” she mutters out, hooking a finger underneath your underwear and shifting it to the side, causing your wet pussy to be exposed to her and the cold air of the studio. “This all for me?” she asks, looking back up at you.

All you can simply do is bite your lip and nod as you try to resist the cold air hitting against your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Abs…it’s all for you…” you whine out to her.

“That’s what I thought,” she mutters back. Two of her fingers make their way into your cunt without warning, causing you to jerk back and involuntarily close your thighs shut. However, her other hand makes her way into the middle just in time before you do so. “Nuh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, princess,” she says, forcing your legs back open to stand in the middle. “You’ve been so bold with me this past month, so you’re not backing out of this now.”

Her fingers successfully go into your pussy the second time around, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. Abby’s fingers were huge, to say the least, but they managed to stretch your pussy out so well. There’s no way that your pussy can’t take anything bigger than this.

But what Abby was about to pull out next was going to prove you wrong.

As Abby’s fingers continue to pump inside you, she begins to undo her jeans with her free hand, effortlessly getting them open and slightly pushing them down to her thighs. She then digs that same hand into her boxers and pulls out her black strap-on, causing your eyes to widen at the immense size. She was fucking huge.

“A-Abby…” you stammer out to her, quickly shaking your head. “That—That’s not gonna fit…It’s too—“

“Yes it will,” she says, cutting off your words. “My cock’s gonna fit. You’ll see.”

Her fingers quickly slide out of your cunt, leading you to whimper at the loss. With both of her hands now, she rubs her cock against your folds, collecting some of your wetness before sliding it into your tight hole. The stretch of the strap was a bit uncomfortable at first, but after a moment, you were shocked to see how well your pussy was easily taking it from the tip down to the base. It really was the perfect fit.

Abby smirks as she looks down at the piece of silicone that connected your bodies. “See? I told you it’ll fit,” she mutters out, bottoming out completely inside you. “This fucking pussy was made to take my cock.”

You were already starting to feel dizzy over Abby’s cock nestling inside your pussy. You were desperate for some movement.

“A-Abby…” you whine out to her, squeezing her bicep. “N-Need you t-to move…”

“What’s that, princess? You want me to move my cock?” she asks, to which you nod in response. “Need me to thrust my big cock in that desperate little pussy of yours? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do just that for you.”

And with that, she begins to slowly thrust inside you. You could practically feel it all within her movements, the girth, the veins, hell, even the tip would kiss at your cervix every time she bottomed out into you.

Abby grabs at both of your thighs, slowly starting to speed up her pace. “I think I can go a little faster now, don’t you think? Your pretty pussy’s already doing so well for me, angel…”

“Fuck, y-yes, Abby…f-faster…” you slur out as you throw your head back in pleasure, gripping both of your hands onto your desk while she continues to thrust inside of you.

One of her hands leaves your thigh and grabs at your jaw, tilting it down to face her. “Look at that now, my girl’s getting so cockdrunk for me…I bet it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Abby’s gaze soon brings down to your chest, smirking once she notices your hard nipples poking through your shirt. She then lets go of your jaw and pulls your shirt up to your tits, watching in awe at the mere sight of them. “No bra?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you to be such a slut like that…It’s almost as if you were waiting for this to happen.”

At this point, your brain was losing focus, and you couldn’t figure out what Abby was saying to you right now. Once she sped up her pace again, all you could think about now was getting to your release.

Abby now has her gaze focused on the sight of your pussy, watching as it squeezes and contracts around the strap with every thrust. “Looks like you’re getting close, princess. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“Y-yes, f-fuck! I-I’m getting close…” you whine back to her, leading her to thrust even faster inside of you, your moans soon getting loud enough for them to practically echo inside the whole studio.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your cunt pulsed a few more times around Abby’s strap before cumming completely with a loud moan of her name, causing a white ring to form around it.

As you began to catch your breath, Abby slowly pulled herself out of you, groaning as she saw a thick white string of your cum connecting between your pussy and the tip of her strap before soon breaking. She then ran her fingers through her length, collecting all of your release before soon sticking them inside of your mouth while it was still agape.

After sucking her fingers clean, she pulls them out of your mouth and tucks her strap back into her boxers before putting her jeans back on. You watch as she briefly gets down onto her knees and brings her face into your fucked out pussy, gently licking and sucking it clean, savoring each bit of it as she did so.

Once you were all clean, Abby rose back to her feet, helping you with your underwear and with the rest of your clothes as well. Her hands then moved from the button of your pants back down to your hips, guiding you off of your desk and back on your feet. You stumble a little bit into her at the sudden movement.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks softly, catching you in her arms.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m okay…just a little worn out.” you pant out to her as you gain back your composure to turn around towards your desk and gather up your things to leave.

“Well, at least let me give you a ride back to your place,” she insists, grabbing her keys off your desk. “It’s already late outside, and I don’t think it’s quite safe for you to be walking around out there at this time.”

You hesitate for a moment at first. You’d honestly hate to inconvenience Abby to give you a ride home, but given that she was the one offering, you didn’t seem to mind too much about it. In all fairness, it was already late hours in the city, and given the damage she’d done to your legs, there was no way you were going to last walking for five minutes down the street. So you end up accepting her offer.

“Yeah, sure…I’m not stopping you, honestly…” you tell her with a chuckle as you put your bag over your shoulder, ready to head out.

You then follow along beside Abby as the two of you exit the establishment and make your way to wherever her car is situated. Abby opens the passenger door to let you in first before letting herself in on the other side. She then starts up her car before merging into the city’s busy roads.

The ten-minute drive flew by surprisingly fast, and before you knew it, she was now parked in front of your apartment complex. She leans in to give you a quick kiss before soon pulling away. “So, I’ll see you on Friday, then?” she asks.

You can’t help but smirk back at her, even though you were biting your lip to hide it. “I’ll see you on Friday, Anderson.” you tell her with a nod before opening the door to let yourself out.

But Abby doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, she makes sure that you get into your apartment safe and sound. Once your lights were on, that was her cue to go.

You watch from your apartment window as she drives back into the busy roads, soon disappearing from your view.

And for the first time this month, you have to admit that you’re now actually looking forward to seeing her again.

a/n: i hope you guys liked this fic!! i might make another part if this goes well?? but aside from that my next fic will be bfm!abby for those who are waiting, i promise 🤞🏼 lmk if you’d like to be tagged for when i post it!!

(also ty for 700, i love you guys 🫶🏻)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[elliesbelle]

how much i need you

ellie williams one-shot

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you don’t want to love your ex-girlfriend anymore, not when you know you’ll never amount to the girls she's loved before. maybe one day, she’ll realize how much she needs you.

content warnings: cursing, angst, break-up, ellie and reader are both in their mid-20s, joel is alive and never went golfing, descriptions of weapons, mentions of cannibalism, depictions of physical violence and blood, mentions of weight loss, mentions of death, extremely dark themes in general (proceed with caution), minors do not interact

word count: 10.5k

title based on lyric from the olivia o’brien song “hate u love u”

“I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“Wh-what? What do you mean by that?”

“If you can’t get over this, I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“E-Ellie.”

The silence between you two screamed in wounded agony. You’d been arguing for the past hour in Ellie’s garage. It was the same argument you’d been having for the past two weeks: Ellie and Cat. Ellie and Dina. Being constantly surrounded by remnants of her love life was crushing you. And even more so that she’d still banter, still flirt. And it cut you every single time.

Ellie would assure you that it was all platonic, that it was normal, the way she spoke to them. That there hasn’t been anything between her and either of them in years.

But how do you forget your first love? Who you had all your firsts with? And how do you forget your most recent ex-girlfriend? Especially one that you still remain best friends with?

You were growing tired of the jealousy. And Ellie was growing tired of your insecurity.

“Just go.” She finally murmurs.

You stare at her blankly.

“B-baby, please.” You whimper.

“I…I don’t think you should call me that anymore.”

“Wh-what?” Your vision was blurry from the tears streaming down your cheeks, falling relentlessly.

“J-just go.”

Ellie still loved you. She loved you more than she was ever able to say. She loved you more than she ever loved Cat. And even more than she ever loved Dina. She believed for the longest time that you could be her person. But maybe not. Maybe not if you just couldn’t deal with her history, her baggage.

“Please, no,” You beg. “Please don’t do this.”

Ellie remains silent as she walks over to the door to open it, signalling you to leave.

No matter how much you bawled and blubbered, Ellie stood her ground.

That’s how you spent the next month: weeping hysterically and enshrouding yourself in your misery.

You spoke only when needed, giving empty and lifeless half-smiles. Others attempted to inquire about the change in your behaviour, much too frequently that Maria had to step in and demand that they stop.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t difficult for them to guess why your once pleasant disposition turned joyless. People no longer saw you with Ellie, only ever catching glimpses of you when you tended to your duties or grabbed supplies or food that you’d eat alone in the sanctuary of your own home.

Ellie hadn’t spoken to you since that day. She hadn’t even asked after you, fearing that she'd come grovelling if she kept tabs on you.

Jesse, who was a patrol leader, and Maria, who was in charge of assignments, took pity on you and no longer appointed you to take part in the daily task of safeguarding Jackson. It was a harrowing job and they saw that your weakened emotional state would not benefit from constant threats of peril.

You didn’t mind this, convinced you were a shit patrol partner anyway. Stealth was usually your strong suit, but that didn’t benefit you much when you came face-to-face with actual danger. You didn’t have the muscles or the brawn to fight threats head-on.

Instead, you spent your days in the greenhouses. It didn’t require much socializing, and the manual labour tired you out, so much so that you could attempt to focus on your fatigue instead of your feelings.

And the plants were hopeful, innocent, forgiving. When you were alone, it was the one place that you still allowed yourself to hum and sing. Everywhere else in Jackson was tainted with memories of your ex-girlfriend, even your own home. But here in the solace of blooming greenery, you could feign a sense of happiness and croon quiet melodies of Etta James and Sam Cooke to the flourishing sprouts.

You knew your life didn’t revolve around Ellie. You knew that. Yet even so, you spent all your time thinking about her late at night when you inevitably couldn’t sleep. You remained a prisoner of your mind as the countless reminders of her you’d been hit with all over Jackson that day would replay in your head.

Every day when you’d make your way to the greenhouses, you were forced to pass by Joel’s house and see the little garage Ellie’d converted into her home. You’d go into the main square and walk by people who used to ask after you when you’d come into town with her, but whose faces no longer turned your way to even spare you a morning greeting. It was Ellie who was important around here, anyway, not you. Walking into the supplies shop or the Tipsy Bison met you either with the same treatment or with pitying expressions, neither of which you noticed much over miserably spotting Ellie’s favourite snacks or her usual brand of alcohol.

Jackson was always more Ellie’s than yours. You loved this town and of course it was home to you. But you’d only arrived a few years back, whereas Ellie had resided here since she was 14. There was no Jackson for you without Ellie. And every breath you took in this town felt like a bittersweet knife being shoved down your throat.

You’d made a few friends since you first arrived in town. But you’d always been closest to Ellie and her group, even before she and you’d started dating. After your break-up, your social routine was disrupted and you made no efforts to confide in others, though a few tried.

The day after Ellie dismissed you from her garage, you heard fervent knocking on your front door around noon. It was your day off and you’d woken up from beneath a throw blanket on your living room couch, having fallen asleep while sobbing into the cushions for a couple of hours. You pulled the sheet over your head and ignored the knocking, preferring the warmth of the blanket over your cold, new reality. You tried to shut your eyes and will for the unwanted visitor to give up and leave, but you relented when you heard the sound of Jesse’s voice ceaselessly calling out your name and threatening to break your front door down.

Jesse had just gotten back from an early morning patrol with Ellie. He’d spent much of the dawn pressing her about her silent and despondent behaviour, and after she gave in and confessed the previous night’s tragic events, he headed straight for your house just seconds after they reentered the gates of Jackson.

Jesse was greeted with your sorry, pathetic state: lips puffy yet cracked as a result of your anxious nipping and biting, a halo of crust around your eyes from your incessant tears the night before, clothes completely askew and clearly slept in. You offered him an insincere smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Hey, sorry,” You said, voice cracking. “I was sleeping.”

“In your patrol clothes from yesterday?” Jesse inquired.

You gave him a shrug.

“Listen, dude,” He began. “I heard about what happened last night and I wanted to make sure that—“

“Oh, yeah, that. It’s okay. I’m okay.” You interrupted, waving him off.

“Come on, man, I know that you’re—“

“I mean, I’m sad and all, but what are you gonna do, you know?”

“—not okay, you don’t have to pretend otherwise.”

You gave Jesse another wistful smile.

“Look, I gotta go get showered and everything, but I’ll see you all for dinner later at the Tipsy Bison, okay?”

You closed the door on him before he could respond, having no intentions of meeting up with him or any of your friends that night.

You didn’t open your door for visitors again after that day. Jesse passed by later that evening after you didn’t show, but you kept all the lights off in your house and ignored his yelling and knocking ‘til he eventually gave up for the night.

About a week or so after that day, you were walking out of your house for your assigned morning patrol when you were stopped in your tracks by the sight of one of the last people you wanted to see at that moment.

Dina’s right hand was outstretched as if she was about to knock on your door. She looked just as shocked as you when you locked eyes.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, you scared me.” Dina said, exhaling with a quiet laugh.

“Sorry” was all you muttered in response.

You closed and locked the front door as Dina watched you with a doleful gaze.

“Hey, so,” She started. “I…I know that you and Ellie broke up. She told me a little bit about what happened that night, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I ever caused any problems between you two and that I think she was seriously wrong for breaking up with you.”

You were barely processing her words, focusing your gaze instead on a crooked post in the brown picket fence that surrounded your house. You started feeling dizzy and you were struggling to remain upright and grounded.

“Umm, I totally forgot that I had something to do before patrol today. Can you tell Tommy and Joel that I’ll be a little late? Thanks, D.”

You rushed through your excuse before quickly unlocking and disappearing behind your front door, shutting it in Dina’s face the same way you’d done with Jesse.

That was the same day that Maria graciously told you she was taking you off the patrol rotation as you never showed up for your shift. Since then, the greenhouses have been your home away from home. You would arrive during the early hours of the morning before the sun had even graced the sky, and you’d leave only after most of Jackson was sound asleep in their beds. It was barely a life, but in a world where the alternative was being on the outside to be subjected to murderous demons, both of the monster and human variety, you couldn’t be completely ungrateful.

On a cold, snowy day where most of Jackson remained huddled in the shelter of their homes, Maria paid you a visit in the plant nurseries.

You were in a secluded corner away from the others who were also stationed as gardeners, repotting some seedlings into larger buckets. No one tried speaking to you anymore these days, not unless it was absolutely necessary. So when you heard the sound of Maria’s voice from behind you, you nearly dropped your shovel.

“Sorry to interrupt your work, hun,” Maria says apologetically. “But it’s urgent.”

“O-oh, okay.” You mutter, still reeling from the shock of being spoken to. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Well, half the town right now has dropped like flies because of this crazy flu that’s been going around. I’ve barely got anyone for patrols this week since most of them can’t even hold a pistol or stay upright on their horses.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You respond, almost impassive. You had no idea how any of this pertained to you.

“Now, I hate to have to ask you this,” Maria began slowly. “But do you think I can put you back on the patrolling schedule until more of my guys can recover? I wouldn’t be asking, but I really don’t have anyone left to send out there and you’re already trained and know the routes and everything.”

You froze. You had little desire to break out of your mundane everyday routine, and you were also extremely rusty when it came to patrolling. But Maria was always kind to you and was understanding enough to take you off the patrol rotation in the first place. You owed her.

“You really don’t have anyone?” You ask.

“I’m desperate, hun,” Maria states. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

You sigh.

“When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow, your usual time in the morning.” She says. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fine.” You reply. “Which route?”

“I’ll give you a fairly easy one for tomorrow, give you a chance to get reacquainted with the road again. And don’t worry,” She adds. “I won’t pair you with her.”

You feel a sizeable lump in your throat, merely nodding in acknowledgement to who she was referring to.

“Okay. Tomorrow then.”

“Thank you, hun. It’s only temporary, I promise. You’ll be back in here before you know it. Do you want the rest of the day off today to prep?”

“No, it’s okay,” You reply, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, just maybe take it easy and don’t wear yourself out today. And go home early. I want you to rest up.”

You nod once more before returning to your busy work. You feel Maria’s hand on your shoulder and your body tenses up from the sudden physical contact, not having been touched by someone else in so long.

“Thanks again, sweetheart. I’m real grateful. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You feel Maria’s hand withdraw from you before she exits the greenhouse, leaving you with immediate dread and regret.

The next morning came quicker than you’d liked. Unable to sleep, you’d woken up an hour earlier than needed and spent that time preparing for patrol. You prepared the essentials in your backpack: a medkit, flashlight, a water bottle, a few snacks.

Attached to the front pocket of your bag was a little pin of a moon in its third quarter. Ellie’d found it on a patrol with Joel over a year ago and gifted it to you to match her spaceship pin on her own backpack. You hadn’t noticed you still had it on yours and contemplated removing it. In the end, you kept it on.

The sun was nowhere to be seen behind the thick grey clouds that scattered flurries all around Jackson. Though it would complicate and prolong patrols, you used to love it when it’d snow. It brought a certain kind of beauty that balanced out the dead and dark winter.

You had countless memories of you and Ellie in the snow: you gleefully rushing to the window when seeing it fall from the sky for the first time in the year and Ellie quietly admiring the way your face lit up every time, challenging each other to a snowball fight where Ellie would decimate you with no mercy to which you’d punish her for by stuffing handfuls of snow down her shirt, attempting to build a snowman in front of your house that ended up looking more like a blobfish instead and who you’d both affectionately named Puddles.

But now as you silently stomped through shallow puddles towards the stables, you curse the sky for ungenerously sending the white powder on a day you just wanted to be over as soon as it began.

You get to the stables, nodding at the stablehands with a curt smile, and walk up to your horse, Cleopatra. You smile as you brush her mane lightly with your fingers.

“Hey, old gal,” You sigh. “Sorry for being away so long.”

You then head to the armoury, planning to stock up on weaponry for the trip. As you’re loading a pistol, you hear someone join you from behind.

Dina comes up beside you and begins to load a shotgun. You work in silence for a few moments before she speaks.

“Hey,” She greets. “Jesse told me you were back on the patrol rotation.”

“Temporarily,” You correct her. “Just a favour to Maria while people are out sick.”

“Right,” Dina says. “You gonna be alright?”

“Mhmm” was all you say as you load a rifle.

“Well, don’t die out there!” Dina attempts at a joke.

“No promises.” You mutter as you exit the armoury.

You return to the stables to grab Cleopatra, walking past others preparing for their patrols as well. After a stableboy hands your her reins, you walk her out of the paddock and towards the large gates.

Spotting Jesse, you and Cleopatra head over to his direction while he gives orders to a couple of patrollers who looked like they’d never stepped outside the walls of Jackson in their lives. As they walk away, Jesse spots you walking towards him and his face breaks out in a smile.

“Maria told me you were coming!” He says jovially, giving you a one-arm hug that you tepidly return.

“Who are you sending me out with?” You ask, not wishing to engage in small talk.

“This guy Antoine,” Jesse replies. “He’s about our age and works in the stables, but Maria recruited him temporarily.”

You nod.

“Sorry to put you with someone new,” Jesse continues. “We’re trying to pair newbies with people with experience so we’re not sending people to their deaths out there.”

“You sure you want to send him out with a shit patroller like me?” You say.

“Oh, stop that,” Jesse reprimands. “You’re an excellent partner.”

You hum in disagreement and say nothing. Jesse leads you to where a tall, blonde man you assumed was Antoine who was standing and holding the reins of a horse you remembered was named Pink. He introduces you and talks about which route you’d been assigned to, and you and Antoine politely nod at each other before lining up with the rest of the patrollers right in front of the gates.

As Tommy and Joel give their usual speech on what to look out for and updates on what had been encountered on recent patrols, you suddenly feel a sense of dread wash over you. Ellie had walked up to join Dina, who was her patrol partner that day, with her horse Shimmer by her side. Your eyes betray you as they unwittingly fall on her casually conversing with Dina, laughing at a joke she seemed to have said. Tearing your gaze away from the sight, you don’t realize that seconds after you’d stopped looking at her, Ellie’s face drops as her eyes fall on you.

Once Tommy finishes a spiel on raiders having spotted nearby and warning against them, he and Joel nod everyone off to proceed with their duties as the sentries finally open the gates. You mount Cleopatra as Antoine does the same with Pink, and you start to pull at her reins to depart when you suddenly hear hoofbeats clopping towards you. Your face drains of blood as you see Ellie on Shimmer coming up to your side.

“Hey.” She says as she pulls Shimmer to a stop.

You try to work yourself up to greet her back but your mouth remains silent.

“I, umm, saw you got put back on patrols.” She mutters.

You muster up enough of your voice to mutter back, “For now.”

“Well, uhh. Be careful out there.” She cautions.

Unable to hold back a scoff, you say, “You don’t care.”

Before Ellie can respond, you tap Cleopatra lightly with your foot and jerk at her reins to signal her to move forward. You hear Ellie trying to call you, but you force yourself not to look back as you ride Cleopatra out of Jackson.

Antoine was the perfect patrol partner, in that he remained silent for most of your round. He seemed to sense that you were in no mood for small talk and only spoke in response to any directions you gave.

Maria upheld her promise of giving you a fairly easy route to scout. You and Antoine hadn’t encountered any Infected or otherwise throughout most of the patrol. After searching a nearby abandoned neighbourhood a little past noon, you decide that it was time to make the journey back to Jackson.

However, it seemed that Antoine, who had never been outside the walls of the town, was reluctant to leave.

“Wait, I kind of want to explore a little more.” He says, refusing to mount his horse Pink and heading into the empty house where he had her reins tied to the fence.

“Antoine!” You call out after him, having already mounted Cleopatra and readied yourself to leave. Antoine ignores you as he disappears behind the front door. You curse under your breath as you hop off your horse.

“Get your ass back here!” You yell as you cross the threshold of the house. You explore the place, scanning each room in an attempt to find the blonde man who you desperately wished to throttle.

You find him in one of the bedrooms upstairs, reading through a comic book he’d found in a small bookshelf in a corner. The front cover had an array of superheroes in nonsensical outfits, looking as if they were fighting in some war in outer space. You ignore the voice in your head that thought about how it looked like something Ellie would find fascinating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You demand.

“I can’t believe this is really shit that they had back in the old world. Whoever lived here has like, fifty of these.” Antoine says.

“Who the fuck cares, Antoine,” You angrily seethe. “We shouldn’t be out here too long. There could be Infected around.”

“We just checked out the whole neighbourhood and there wasn’t anything. Lighten up a little.” He replies.

“Just because we haven’t seen anything, it doesn’t mean there isn’t anything out there!”

“Look, this is my first time outside of Jackson. I just want to enjoy it for a little bit before I get stuck back on stable duty.”

“You wanna enjoy being out here where you could get ripped apart by monsters at any sec—” Your tirade was interrupted when the butt of a gun knocks you out.

Ellie and Dina were just returning from their patrol after being delayed by a group of Infected in a nearby grocery store. Trotting through the gates with their horses Shimmer and Japan, they were laughing over some ridiculous pun Ellie had just made and didn’t notice Jesse sprinting towards them.

“Jesus, fuck, thank god you’re both back.” He says as Tommy follows behind him.

“Sorry, man, had to clear out that grocery store about ten miles west. Had like, ten runners in there waiting for us.” Ellie explains, laughter still resonating in her voice.

Dina, noticing the serious look on Jesse’s face, eyes him warily.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” She asks him.

“You’re…you’re not the only ones who hadn’t returned yet.” He replies.

Ellie’s face falls slightly as she finally realizes the gravity of the situation.

“Oh shit, who else hasn’t gotten back?”

“It’s just one other pair who seems to be running late.” Tommy says, having caught up to the trio. Jesse gives him a warning look in response.

“Wait, who?” Dina asks, dismounting from Japan.

Jesse and Tommy unwittingly look at Ellie at the same time before sharing an anxious look. Ellie narrows her eyes.

“Who, Tommy?” She asserts.

Tommy opens his mouth to speak but immediately shuts it as Ellie’s face shifts from confusion to understanding. She pulls at Shimmer’s reins, urging her to turn around and retreat from the gates of Jackson once more. Jesse dashes forward and stops Shimmer in her tracks.

“We don’t know what’s happened yet, Ellie. They could have just gotten held back by something.”

“Fucking move, Jesse.” Ellie spits.

“She’s a smart girl, El. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

“I swear to god, dude, I will run you over.”

“What route did you assign them to?” Dina asks.

“The one that goes southeast and follows the river into that abandoned town about fifteen miles east.”

“Tommy!” Jesse chides, having withheld that information on purpose.

“Great. Thanks, Tommy.” Ellie says, urging Shimmer to walk past Jesse before Dina steps in front of her as well.

“Ellie, that’s a real easy route. I’m sure she’s fine.” Dina assures.

“She’s with that dumbass stableboy who’s never been outside of the town, much less held a gun before. If nothing’s happened, they would be back by now.”

“She knows how to take care of herself, kid.” Tommy chimes in. “I’m sure that the snow just delayed their return, that’s all.”

“Just give them an hour, dude,” Jesse adds. “If they’re not back by then, we’ll send a few people out to search.”

“A lot can happen in a fucking hour, Jess,” Ellie retorts. “I’m not leaving it up to chance.”

“What’s going on?” A voice behind the group says. They all turn to see Maria walking towards them.

“These fucking assholes won’t let me go after my fucking girlfriend.” Ellie hisses.

“Ex.” Jesse corrects her. Ellie shoots him a menacing look.

“Did they also tell you that we’re ready to go out and look for them if they don’t return soon?” Maria says, ignoring the exchange.

“I can do it right now.” Ellie replies stubbornly.

“You’ve been out patrolling all day, hun. I’m sure you’re tired. I’ve already gathered a group of people to help search the area if they don’t get back soon.”

“But—”

“Don’t let your guilt make you do something stupid, Ellie.” Maria interrupts with a tone of finality.

Ellie stares at her as Jesse pats her leg.

“She’s a smart girl, Ellie.” He repeats. “I’ll go out with the searching party myself too if they don’t get back soon.”

“Wait!” Dina yells, looking past the gates. “I see something!”

The group all focus their gaze on the direction she’s pointing at, making out a couple of figures approaching. Ellie breathes a sigh of relief when she makes out the outline of two horses approaching, but the moment is short-lived when the sight, which was originally obscured by the snow, reveals only one person riding on horseback.

Ellie dismounts from Shimmer as Antoine finally crosses the border of the town. She makes a beeline for him, angrily grabbing at his shirt and almost ripping him off Pink.

“Where the fuck is she? Why the fuck are you alone?!” She demands as Dina and Jesse tear her off him, allowing him to properly get down from his horse.

“I–we–I don’t…” Antoine begins to stutter.

“Speak, boy.” Tommy demands.

“I don’t…I don’t know where she is.” Antoine admits.

Maria, ignoring Ellie’s various curses and swearing, moves forward to speak.

“What the hell does that mean, Antoine?” She asks coolly.

“We got ambushed at the town we were patrolling, we were inside a house and they snuck up behind us, they knocked her unconscious and I was able to get away before they could get to me.” He replied so quickly that they almost didn’t catch what he was saying.

“So you fucking left her?” Ellie growls.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what else to do!”

“We gave you a gun, you were put into training beforehand,” Jesse scolds. “You’re partners for a reason. You’re supposed to fucking look out for each other.”

“I-I panicked. There were several of them and they were all big guys and—”

“It should have fucking been you instead!” Ellie screams, lunging towards Antoine before Tommy catches her and holds her back.

“What did they look like? Did they say anything? Anything at all that can lead to where they might have brought her?” Maria inquires.

“I-it was so quick and I couldn’t get a glimpse of their faces. They mostly wore black clothing. And th-they said…”

“Said what?” Jesse prompts.

“They said, ‘this one looks like she’ll be pretty delicious,’ before I could escape.”

You wake up to a throbbing headache and severe nausea. Your right hand flies up to your temple while the other shields your eyes from a blurry, yellow light being cast from somewhere above you. The first thing you see once your vision clears up a little is rusted, silver fencing that served as a cage. As you peer at your surroundings, you hear the repetitive sound of a blade hitting timber.

Sitting up, you see two men facing away from you and leaning over a wide, wooden table. One had a large sack flung over his shoulder that slowly dripped blood, while the other was wielding a butcher’s knife, chopping some kind of meat that your view was obscured from. It was only when the man slides it off the table with his blade that you realize what it was as you take in a sharply drawn breath: a human arm.

Your silent gasp catches the attention of the man with the sack, who nudged his companion. They both turn to look at you, the knife holder smirking as he did so. He places it down on the table to bring his full attention to you.

“Get Ian,” He tells the other man. “Tell him the girl’s finally awake.”

His friend nods before dropping the bag and walking out of the room which, as you inspect further, looked almost like a slaughterhouse. Your eyes flit back and forth between the man staring at you and the cage imprisoning you. You try to search for flaws in the fencing for a chance to escape, but you find none. The man continues to eye you, almost with an air of cruel arrogance.

A few moments pass before he’s joined by a different man with brown hair and a lightly-shaved beard. He joins his friend leaning on the wooden table and addresses you directly.

“Good morning,” He states civilly. “How are you feeling?”

You don’t respond, intent on keeping your interactions with these strangers as minimal as possible. The man continues to speak anyway.

“I apologize for the way my associates treated you. I’m sure they didn’t mean to knock you out that hard. You were unconscious for much longer than needed.”

He approaches your cage to crouch at your eye level and you instinctively back away until your back hits the wall behind you.

“My name is Ian, and this is my friend Jacob. Can you tell me what your name is?”

You make a show of tightening your lips in defiance.

“That’s alright, I get it. We’re strangers, after all.” He says, holding his hands up in acknowledgement. “We’re gonna get to know each other pretty well, I’m sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow, wondering his meaning but still too scared to open your mouth.

The man who had gone to fetch Ian returns with a wooden tray of food and a small cup in his hands which he slides underneath a small gap underneath the makeshift cage’s door. You eye it suspiciously. Your brain and your stomach are at war with each other, one begging for sustenance while the other berates it for its naivete.

“You better eat up,” The man named Ian says. “Gonna need your strength. Looks like you haven’t been eating much. And I know you’re hungry; been out for quite some time.”

You ignore his comment about the clear loss of weight you’ve gone through recently, knowing your face was slightly more gaunt than it ought to have been from eating a lot less for the past month.

“What is it?” You question despite yourself, eyes shooting towards the tray at your feet.

“It’s deer.” He responds simply.

Your eyes dart towards the human body parts that lay on the floor. Ian smiles and understands what you’re thinking without turning to see where your gaze is directed.

“Just deer meat. I promise.”

You go back to eyeing the food they’d given you, every ounce of your willpower being tested. To give in and eat the food they’d provided would be playing into their game, but you had no idea how long you’d been asleep and you were ravenous.

The man Ian had introduced as Jacob speaks up.

“I think we should just get rid of her; she seems stubborn.”

“Most of them are,” Ian responds. “We’ll break her. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You glower at him in response. He chuckles.

“We’ll give you some time,” He continues, standing up from his hunched position. “It’s ultimately up to you to decide your fate. Hope you like solitude.”

Ian looks at his companions and beckons them to leave. Jacob follows and the unnamed man picks up the sack he’d dropped previously, places the human remains on the floor inside of it, and follows the two others out before locking the door behind him.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding this whole time. It takes a few minutes, but you’re able to pull yourself up from the floor to further examine your surroundings. Even after closer investigation, the silver fencing seemed impenetrable and solid. The wooden tray they’d served the deer meat on was flimsy and thin, impossible to use as either a weapon or a means of escape. The cup was small and plastic, completely useless for anything else other than its intended purpose.

As options for liberation grew slimmer and slimmer, you begin to hyperventilate. You had a feeling that these men intended to leave you in here alone to go completely mad, at least until they decide to execute the next stage in their malevolent plan. You had no weapons, no means of escape, no company.

Your mind finally falls on your patrol partner, Antoine. Why wasn’t he in here? Did he get away? The trio made no mention of him. He would have been in here if he was captured as well.

Or did they “take care” of him first? You begin to feel even more nauseous when you remember what the man Jacob had been doing prior to your waking. Was Antoine not spared? You had no idea how long you were out for. Ian had only said that you were out for a while. Regardless of your loathing for Antoine and his stupidity, you prayed to every known entity out there that he’d made it back to Jackson.

Your heart sank even further down your stomach upon coming to another realization: was anyone looking for you? Surely after all this time, they’d realized you hadn’t been back from your patrol. They’d sent out search parties when people had gone missing, but how determined would they be to find you? Would they not just assume you were dead or, even worse, bitten? Who would be risking their safety outside the walls of Jackson for the shadow of a person that barely a soul in the town noticed anymore?

Ellie had not slept for more than twenty minutes in the past 72 hours. Despite Maria’s protests, she’d joined the search party that had been scouring the outskirts of Jackson for you. Maria eventually relented on letting her go when Joel had volunteered to join the mass of citizens tracking you down, promising her that he’d be by her side. Jesse and Dina had both stepped forward to take part as well, but Maria put her foot down and pointed out that she still needed competent protectors to continue keeping Jackson safe.

Antoine was dragged into joining the search party on the first day to retrace the steps you and he had taken during your patrol. He abashedly walked Ellie and Joel through the house you’d been kidnapped in, leading them into the bedroom where you’d been knocked unconscious. After squeezing every bit of information out of him, Joel crisply ordered Antoine to go back outside and wait with the horses while he and Ellie scoured the place.

Within moments of their search, Ellie spots a glint of metal on the rug. She crouches down to further inspect what had caught her eye to find a sharp, golden point aiming upward. She turns it over to see it was the half-moon pin she’d given you over a year ago. It was missing the backing, which she knew meant it was accidentally torn off your backpack that she knew you’d pinned it on.

Slowly standing up, Ellie didn’t realize that she’d begun to sob. Joel turns to her and before he’s able to inquire anything of her, she holds out the hand carrying the pin. He picks it up and examines it, immediately recalling the day when he and Ellie had found it during patrol. He remembered how gleeful she was upon its discovery, how he’d rolled his eyes and chuckled over how absolutely lovestruck she was over you. He pulls her into a tight hug as she continues to cry uncontrollably.

“We’ll find her, kiddo. You and me, we crossed the entire country together and survived. We’ll find her together, I promise.”

It could have been days, weeks that had passed since you were abducted. Time had no meaning in your small prison, nothing but the sun shining through a small window to indicate what vague hour of the day it possibly was. Your only source of human interaction was when someone would bring you a tray of food twice in, what you’d assume, a day. You’d eventually caved into your hunger, realizing that you had no other choice other than resorting to the same barbaric sin these people had grown so comfortable in doing. Your only comfort was knowing that they had only been feeding you deer meat, the flavour remaining unchanged and the taste never being unfamiliar.

It was a different person delivering the food and water every time, leading you to believe that this was a larger group of people than just the three men you’d met on your first day. At first, you attempted to keep count of how many came in, but your solitary confinement was quickly driving you to delusion and you began to doubt your memory.

The only thing that was keeping you mildly sane was singing to yourself throughout the day. The act that had once brought you solace during your time in the greenhouses was the one thing that was keeping you grounded as you felt yourself slowly withering away.

🎶 Tonight, you’re mine completely // You give your love so sweetly

Tonight, the light of love is in your eyes // But will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

Memories of Ellie come flooding to you like an avalanche: the way she’d wrap her arms around you while you were quietly humming songs from the old world to yourself as you washed dishes, the way she’d urge you to keep singing as she tried to twirl you around in your living room, how she used to love laying on your chest and listening to your crooning as you’d stroke her hair when you’d both be lounging on a day off.

🎶 Is this a lasting treasure // Or just a moment’s pleasure?

Can I believe the magic of your sighs? // Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

You and Ellie both bonding over your love of music was one of the first steps towards falling in love with one another. You’d always been drawn to her, since the moment your eyes met. But as you both learned more about each other, that attraction grew into the feeling of needing her for the rest of your life.

🎶 Tonight with words unspoken // You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken // When the night meets the morning sun? 🎶

You wonder if you’d be where you were in the first place if you and Ellie hadn’t broken up in the first place. You would have kept your patrol duties, and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten paired up with Antoine. Maybe your desolation and disconnect from life turned you careless. You’d been in mortal peril several times in the past. But not like this.

🎶 I’d like to know that your love // Is a love I can be sure of

So tell me now and I won’t ask again // Will you still love me tomorrow?

Will you still love me tomorrow? 🎶

You needed Ellie.

It had been over four days since your sudden kidnapping, and Ellie was growing more and more desperate. There had been little traces of where you’d been taken and even less proof of whether you were still alive. Ellie felt every part of her dying every second you hadn’t been found, and the only thing that kept her going was her unyielding determination to have you safe and sound back home.

It was evening when Ellie and Joel had regrouped with the rest of the search party at a watch tower that usually served as a patrol checkpoint. She and Joel had safely tied the reins of their horses next to the others before heading to the second floor of the watchtower. Ellie had been adamant to continue searching through the night, and it took everything within Joel not to drag her by her toes to get some rest and convene with the others.

Joel was reprimanding her calmly for making them late meeting up with the rest of the search party as they walked into the room full of other Jackson citizens who were all conversing erratically. When they’d set eyes on the pair, a hush fell over the group. Ellie and Joel begin scanning their faces before a woman in the middle speaks up.

“We think we might know where they are, Joel.” She announces softly.

Ellie’s exhausted demeanour immediately shifts to alertness.

“Where? How do you know? Are you sure?” She demands agitatedly.

Joel holds a hand up to Ellie before saying, “What did you find?”

“Audrey and Lyn spotted some raiders about six miles northeast. Or at least, they thought they were raiders. They overheard their conversation and…” She looks over at a pair of women sitting on a couch to the side.

“They’re from a settlement not too far from where we spotted them.” The woman named Lyn speaks. “I’m not sure how we never discovered it, but there’s a rather large group that’s dwelling in that area. Not nearly as big as Jackson, but a good amount,”

“They armed?” Joel questions.

“Yeah. We need to be careful approaching them. It doesn’t to be as safely guarded as Jackson, but the sentries still look vicious.”

“Do we need backup?”

“I think as long as we’re smart and stealthy, our group will be good enough to infiltrate their village.”

“How do we know for sure that she’s in there?”

Lyn exchanges a look with the woman Audrey next to her.

“They were talking about some fresh meat that they’d acquired just a few days ago, a girl. They—”

Lyn falters, unable to finish her sentence. Audrey glances at her before looking at both Joel and Ellie with wary eyes.

“Th-they’re cannibals, Joel.”

All the colour drains from Ellie’s face as she’s flung into memories from a decade ago of being trapped in a cage by a man named David.

🎶 They say everything can be replaced // They say every distance is not near 🎶

You were laying on your back, facing up at the bleak and boring ceiling that you’d grown to memorize.

🎶 So I remember every face // Of every man who put me here 🎶

Your eyes were glazed over, autonomously singing lyrics to a song that you knew by heart.

🎶 I see my light come shining // From the west down to the east 🎶

You try desperately to cling to the memory of Ellie’s face, terrified to lose all the small details that you felt slowly slipping away as you descend more and more into sequestered delusion.

🎶 Any day now, any day now // I shall be released 🎶

“Is that what you think, sweetheart?” A voice interrupts your musical reverie.

You turn slowly towards the speaker who was crouching outside your cage, your head the only thing that moves as the rest of your body is too weak to physically respond.

“You have a beautiful voice. I’ve been growing fond of hearing it these past few days. Big fan of the oldies, huh?”

You continue to stare at Ian, your face expressionless.

“That’s something we’ve got in common, you and I. I’m quite partial to Otis Redding myself.”

You struggle to keep down the bile building up in your throat at hearing this repulsive man expressing love for something.

“It’s almost endearing how you still hold out hope for escaping.”

“It’s just a song.” You finally speak, deadpan.

“True.” Ian responds, his face perking up at your engagement. “You still do have a chance to be released, you know. Just gotta prove that you’ll be a valuable asset to us. Be a team player.”

“You mean consent to eating people.”

“We’re survivalists, princess. In this world, being picky is not a luxury.”

“I’d rather retain the little humanity I have left, thanks.” You retort before turning your head back to stare at the ceiling once more.

“Surviving and persevering is inherently human. We kill to survive. We take care of our own, by any means necessary.”

“So now what?” You ask. “You’re gonna chop me up into tiny pieces and serve me to your cult?”

“Hey, now. ‘Cult’ is a bit too strong of a word, muffin.” He says, defensively. “Like I said, we’re survivalists. But I’d rather not have to—how’d you say it? ‘Chop you up into tiny pieces’?”

You merely scoff in response.

“Please tell me your name.”

“No.”

“You know mine.”

“Indeed I do.”

“I’ve been quite honest with you. It’s just the polite thing to do, you know.”

“You know what’s polite?” You turn your head back towards him. “Not keeping someone in a fucking cage.”

“Just a precaution. Gotta figure out if you can be one of us.”

“In your motherfucking dreams, asshole.” You spit.

Ian sighs before standing up straight once more. He looks at you despondently.

“It’d be a shame to lose you, sweetheart. You have heart. You’re special. Having you for dinner would feel like such a waste of the little beauty left in this world.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” You seethe.

“That’s too bad.” Ian tsks. “Keep singing those songs for me, sweetheart. While you still can.”

He exits the room, and you hear the sound of multiple locks clicking as you had every time you were left alone once more.

A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that you may not be trapped in this cage for much longer.

Ellie’s ocean-green eyes scan their surroundings, observing the guards that patrolled the edge of the village. There were at least a dozen of them and they appeared to be heavily armed as Lyn had promised. Some were keeping vigilant watch, but most were carelessly chatting with one another.

The whole party from Jackson remained perfectly concealed in the shadows of the forest right next to the village. They’d chosen to arrive at dusk at the exact time that the sun had just set, perfect to remain eclipsed in the shade but having enough light to navigate the unfamiliar town.

Joel lifts his head slightly from the bush he and Ellie were hidden behind, meeting the eyes of the others as he gave a signal. They all nodded in quiet response as they readied their weapons, some holding pistols equipped with makeshift silencers and Ellie with her faithful bow and arrow. One by one, they take out each of the guards. They fall quickly to the ground, none having enough time to react or sound any alarm of an attack. The second the last one collapses, Joel holds up a hand as he silently counts down before signalling the rest to quickly approach.

Ellie is the quickest to reach the border of the town, having set aside her bow and equipping her semi-auto pistol. Remembering information Lyn and Audrey had provided from their overheard conversation, she swiftly weaves through the village as her eyes scoured for a brick house with a metal entryway. Most of the buildings seemed to be partially constructed with a wooden exterior, but if their intel was correct, you were being kept in some kind of slaughterhouse.

As she’s made it halfway through the town, Ellie catches the eye of another companion who gestures to a brown cinder block building being guarded by two citizens holding hunting rifles. She scans the scene before aiming her gun towards them, her precise shots quieted by a silencer. Both guards topple over almost immediately, giving Ellie the opportunity to sprint towards the entrance. She’s joined by a boy named Levi to see the door to the slaughterhouse sealed off by a heavy padlock. She signals Levi to draw back before aiming her pistol and shattering the lock.

Ellie tears it off the handles before wrenching the doors open. She actively ignores the heavy machinery and smell of rotting meat and spots a door that appeared to lead down to a lower floor. That too was padlocked and she immediately attended to it the same way she’d done with the first. Levi remains behind to keep watch as Ellie quietly descends down the stairs to the basement.

She ignores all the doorways leading to other rooms when she spots a heavy-looking metal door with multiple locks. As she approaches it, she hears a muffled melody from behind it.

Is that…singing?

🎶 Now you say you’re lonely // You cry the whole night through

Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

Ellie recognizes the same voice she had fallen in love with all those years ago as yours, her heart filling with affection and her spirits being lifted for the first time in days.

🎶 Now you say you’re sorry // For being so untrue

Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

As she examines the steel entryway for an opening, she’s flooded with memories of secretly listening to your innocent singing when you had thought you were alone.

🎶 You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head // While you never shed a tear

Remember, I remember all that you said // Told me that love was too plebeian

Told me you were through with me 🎶

Ellie unbolts several latches and uses her pistol to shoot off yet another heavy-duty lock that separated her from you.

🎶 And now you say you love me // Well, just to prove you do

Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river // I cried a river over you 🎶

She violently wrenches the weighty door open, realizing now more than ever how much she needs you.

🎶 I cried a river over you

I cried a river over you

I cried a river over you 🎶

The song fades to an end as her eyes fall onto a figure trapped within silver fencing, laying flat on its back with its hands folded on its stomach.

“B-baby?” Ellie whispers, eyes filling with tears.

Your own eyes remain closed as you ignore the quiet voice you assumed was Ian, returning once more to torment you and perhaps even drag you to your death.

Ellie approaches your cage, her gaze falling on your frame for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She notices how much scraggier you appeared, clearly being fed very little during your confinement.

She clears her throat softly as she crouches down to your level, hand falling on the fencing that felt reminiscent of the prison she was once held in all those years ago.

“Baby.” She repeats once more, her voice clearer and fuller.

“Go to hell, Ian.” You finally vocalize, eyes still remaining closed and ignoring how the voice seemed different from that of Ian’s. You conclude that you’ve finally reached the point of delusion where any voice you hear mimics that of your ex-girlfriend.

“No, it’s-it’s me.” Ellie whispers.

You finally open your eyes and turn towards the source of introduction. Your eyebrows lift slightly as you take in the features of the girl you were still madly in love with, despite everything. You look her up and down for a few moments before returning to your original position.

“This is a rather cruel joke. I preferred it when my hallucinations left me alone, thank you.”

“This isn’t a hallucination,” Ellie utters as she feels her heart crack. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

You turn back towards her and finally sit up, further examining your new companion. You scrutinize her further, still fully of the belief that your delusion had finally taken hold of you. You approach the border of your cage slowly before speaking.

“Are you real?” You ask.

Finally within your reach, Ellie holds a hand out as far as she’s able to stroke your cheek.

“I’m real, pretty girl. I promise.”

The moment her skin touches yours, your body is filled with a sense of vigour and life that it hadn’t felt in weeks.

“E-Ellie?” You say meekly.

“I’m here,” She repeats. “I’m here. I’m getting you out right now.”

“No, you’re not. Hands up.”

Your body freezes at the sound of the voice you’d grown to be familiar with the past few days.

“Drop the gun. Now.”

Ellie immediately lets go of her pistol and rigidly straightens up from her crouched position. She turns slowly towards Ian who has a revolver pointed, not at her, but at you.

“So, my new pet has a little friend? Sweetheart, you never told me about her.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Ellie spits.

“I can call her whatever I want. I’m not the one with a gun to their head.”

Ellie eyes his revolver and slowly inches to shield you from his aim.

“Don’t you fucking move!” Ian hisses. “I can shoot you, then shoot her.”

“E-Ellie, please just,” You stutter. “Move out of the way.”

“No,” Ellie mutters through gritted teeth, standing her ground. “I’m not fucking moving.”

“You’ve got until the count of three.” He orders her.

You grip the back of Ellie’s shirt through the fence, silently urging her to move. She refuses to yield.

“One,” Ian begins. “Two—”

His countdown is interrupted by the butt of a gun colliding with the back of his head. Joel emerges from behind him holding up a hunting rifle.

You let out a choked-out sob, your grip on Ellie’s shirt loosening. Hot tears were falling down your cheeks that you didn’t notice until Ellie turned towards you to check on your state, wiping them away.

“Are you okay?” She asks fervently.

“I-I…” You stammer.

“We need to go now.” Joel interrupts. “We may have taken out a few guards, but we don’t know how many more they have stationed out there.”

Joel searches Ian’s unconscious body, finding a set of keys in his front pocket. After some trial and error, he and Ellie are able to find the key that unlocked your cage.

Ellie pulls you into a tight embrace, repeatedly whispering “thank god, thank god,” into your hair. You pull away, feeling slightly suffocated and having no desire to remain within this room that served as your prison for what felt like years.

Ellie picks up the pistol she had dropped before she begins to walk you towards the exit. But before you reach it, Ian begins to stir from beneath you. Both Joel and Ellie point their respective guns at him.

“Wait.” You say, holding a hand up.

“Baby, but—“ Ellie begins but stops when she sees you reaching towards the butcher’s knife that had been stabbed into the chopping table, the same one that had served as your only view during your confinement.

Ellie releases your waist just as you lift the cleaver above your head.

The moment you step out of the slaughterhouse, you nearly collapse. It was almost as if the air outside your prison was twice as thick than within, and your lungs were still incapable of not choking from it.

Ellie, sensing you about to drop, quickly wraps her arms around your waist as your legs crumple beneath you. She scoops you up from your knees and carries you down the road, Joel following quickly behind. As you spot the borders of the town where familiar faces from Jackson begin convening around you, you black out in a flash.

You wake up to the familiar scent of cedarwood and sage. Your body feels weighed down onto what felt like a bed, unable to move your limbs with ease. Every part of you still wished to remain asleep, but something else seemed to be pulling you out of your comatose state. Your eyes are the first to move, fluttering open slowly and agonizingly before they survey the position you’d been unconsciously placed in.

Light peeks through sheer blue curtains that decorated Ellie’s garage window to your right. You shift your head slightly to gaze through the panes, regarding how there was barely any snow on the ground. Your eyebrows knit in bewilderment, wondering how long you’d been out for that the snow had finally melted.

“It rained yesterday while you were sleeping.”

You slowly turn towards the sound of the gentle, calming voice and meet the ocean-green eyes that had been staring at you since the moment you’d woken.

“What?” You whisper, voice croaking from lack of use.

“That’s why there’s no snow anymore. Rain melted it away last night.”

Ellie was sitting at the foot of the bed, a graphic novel right next to her that now lay forgotten.

You stare at her in befuddlement, perplexed at how she’d read your mind so quickly and easily just from a look.

“Oh,” You say. “How long was I out for?”

“About a day or so.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Ellie says, moving from her spot to settle next to you. She places a gentle hand on top of yours.

“I-I don’t know.” You reply, cringing instinctively at her touch.

She pulls away immediately.

“S-sorry…”

“It’s okay.” You utter, heart rising to your cheeks. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone’s fine, I promise. We were able to get in and out quick with no casualties on our side.”

“No one was hurt?”

“That kid Levi is probably a little traumatized after entering that slaughterhouse, but he’ll probably stop vomiting anytime soon.” Ellie attempts a joke, smiling slightly.

You don’t return her smile, looking down at your hands in guilt. The memories of being trapped in that isolated hell were still so raw and you were trying not to throw up from the thought of it yourself.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid to get caught like that. I put so many people in fucking danger just because I let my guard down. I fucking—”

“No, don’t do that.” Ellie interrupts. Her hand twitches, as if she wanted to touch you again but stopped herself. “That fucking coward Antoine should have never left you alone.”

“It’s not his fault… He was just scared. It’d have probably been worse if he got caught along with me.”

“If you just had a competent partner out there with you… It should have been me in the first place like it always was before.” Ellie curses.

“It’s fine…” You mutter.

“It’s not fucking fine!” Ellie exclaims, throwing her hands up and getting up in frustration. You watch as she paces by the bed. “I-I could have lost you, baby.”

“Why does that matter?” You whisper.

“B-because…” Ellie stutters, not making eye contact with you. “Because I love you.”

You stare at her vacantly. Those had been the words you’d been wanting to hear again from her for the past month. But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her.

“You didn’t before.” You say blankly. “What you did, someone who loved me wouldn’t do that. You left me. You fucking left me.”

Ellie kneels next to you and dares put her hands on top of yours once more.

“I never stopped loving you, baby. The past few weeks… it was fucking hell on earth. It took fucking everything in me not to crawl back on my knees to you and beg for your forgiveness.”

“But you didn’t,” You argue. “You threw me out, Ellie. You told me to stop calling you ‘baby.’ The past month… it was slowly killing me, and you didn’t give a damn. You didn’t fucking care. You went about your life like you didn’t tear my heart out of my chest. I haven’t seen you once since that night, and suddenly you’re here telling me you still love me.”

“Cause it hurt me every time I saw you.” Ellie says, voice cracking and eyes watering. “Every time I saw you when I passed by the greenhouses or when I would see you walking home… it fucking hurt.”

“Didn’t fucking seem like it. ”

“I-I thought… I thought being apart was what was best for us. I loved you so much and I didn’t want my past to get in the way, I thought that maybe I could make you see that I’m faithful to you and only you. It was so fucking stupid, I was so fucking stupid.”

Tears were streaming down Ellie’s face nonstop now, staining the bedsheets.

“Everything that happened to you the past few days, it was my fault. You’d never have been there if I didn’t push you away. I can only imagine the kind of torture you went through, being in there. I was so fucking terrified, the most I’d ever been in my whole life. All because I was too fucking proud, too fucking blind.”

Your breath hitches, remembering the time Ellie’d confided in you one sleepless night about what happened to her a decade ago when she was kidnapped by a man named David.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Ellie continues. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t love anybody else. You don’t know how much I need you, how much I’ll always need you. I was so fucking stupid, I’m so sorry.”

You pull one of your hands away from hers to caress her face, the corners of your lips turning up slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are kind of stupid.”

Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise and her face breaks out into a teary smile.

“It took me getting kidnapped and eaten by a group of cannibals for you to apologize?” You say, joking for the first time in a month. Ellie laughs awkwardly.

“I’ll never leave you again. I swear.”

“No, you don’t have to swear, Ellie. It’s—“

She shakes her head.

“I know I have to gain your trust back. I can’t imagine the hell you went through the past few days, and the most important thing for me right now is to make sure you’re okay. And to make sure you know that I’ll be here with you. Forever, until you don’t want me anymore.”

“I’ll always want you, Ellie.” You smile, your thumb wiping her tears away. She leans into your hand as she gazes lovingly back at you.

“C-can I kiss you?” She asks softly. You freeze for a moment.

“I-I’m still… I mean, the past few days are still—” You begin to stutter.

“It’s okay, baby.” She whispers. “Please don’t rush yourself, take your time.”

She settles for taking your hand on her face between both of hers and giving it the lightest of kisses. You smile before she speaks again.

“I’ll wait forever.”

author’s notes:

absolutely insane how long this one-shot turned out to be. it was supposed to be much, much shorter but oops. thank you for being patient with me.

reader’s moon pin is in third quarter (or just a half moon) because third quarter moon is supposed to represent forgiveness and revisiting past actions and etc. thought it was fitting :)

the part where reader wakes up in the cage is supposed to mirror when ellie was captured by david in the first game, so if it sounds familiar, that's why

the cult leader's name is ian simply because i have an ex-boyfriend whose name is ian and i hate his guts, it was fun to name a bad guy after him

love you all, promise i’ll work on ncty soon. just dealing with a lot of shit in my personal life rn (yes a lot of it is shit with my ex shut up), so just keep being patient with me if y’all can ♡︎

taglist: @spaceshipellie, @ximtiredx, @jajsnjz, @sawaagyapong, @beforeimdeceased, @carmellie, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @elliesplaylist, @p1llowthoughtss, @lonelyfooryouonly, @machetegirl109, @herdelreydear, @elliesnumber1gf, @ellies-tatoo, @eleactric

[bots-and-cons]

Can't tell the future, feat Optimus

A/N: I’m feeling pretty crappy at the moment, so I wanted to write something for that. I usually do things like these on my other blog herofics, but I felt like Optimus was a good fit for this so I decided to write something with him. I tagged this with "suicidal tw" just in case, but it's not really an active thing Idk

You hadn’t been to the base in a while, which had Optimus a little worried. You had called him every day, when you couldn’t make it to the base, so he knew you were okay. There was just something about your voice that was bothering him. You’d told him you were just tired and that there was nothing to worry about, and even though he had let it slide until now, he didn’t really believe you. Optimus decided to go see if you would let him take you for a drive to talk. There hadn’t been any decepticon activity for days, so perhaps he would get lucky and the moment of peace would continue.

You were laying in bed with your laptop, trying to decide which assignment was the most interesting. Of course, it was the one that had the deadline months away and not the one that had the deadline next week. You couldn’t get started on any of your assignments, and the ones you had started seemed impossible to finish.

“Why am I like this?” you muttered tiredly, feeling like you might start crying.

The feeling of disappointment was quickly followed by an intense feeling of anger, which made you want to throw your laptop across the room. Why was it always like this? Why couldn’t you manage even school? Your classmates could manage school, work, their family and the rest of their life, and you couldn’t even stay on top of your assignments. Instead of destroying the laptop you had no money to replace, you just ended up hitting your pillow and screaming into it. Your burst of anger was interrupted as you heard a loud truck horn outside your apartment building. You of course went to look out the window and saw that it was Optimus. You put on a jacket on top of your home clothes and went to see what he wanted, maybe the two minutes outside would miraculously get you out of this slump you were in.

You went downstairs and out the front door of your apartment building and walked up to Optimus.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, sounding much colder than you meant to.

“I wanted to see if you were alright. Would you like to go for a drive?” he asked, seemingly not even noticing your tone.

“No thanks, I-” you paused. You were going to say you had a lot of school work to catch up on, but if you hadn’t managed to get started on even one of them the whole day, going for a drive probably couldn’t really make it any worse.

“Actually yeah, let’s go” you said.

Optimus opened the passenger side door to the cabin and you climbed in.

“Remember your seatbelt” he reminded you before starting to drive off.

“Yeah yeah” you muttered, buckling yourself in. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere? Nowhere? I don’t know, we can just drive around” you sighed.

Optimus was never really one for subtleties, so you weren’t exactly surprised when the question you were dreading came. You knew he wasn’t blind, he could see there was something going on with you and that you weren’t doing well. You had really just hoped that he wouldn’t ask, because you felt like your calm demeanor was hanging on by a thread and it would snap at any moment.

“I do not mean to intrude, but I have noticed you have been quite distant lately. I know you have a habit of pushing others away when you are feeling unwell, because you do not wish to be a burden on anyone” he stated very matter-of-factly. “But I wish you would speak to me about what is weighing on you”

It wouldn’t really do any good to lie to him anyway, so you decided to just talk to him. Maybe he would get tired of you too and stop asking how you were. That’s what seemed to happen with everyone you ever talked to. 

“You asked for this” you sighed, before starting your little rant. “I don’t know if this is depression or burnout or what, but I’m exhausted. I don’t know how I’m supposed to manage 15 different school assignments that have deadlines within days of each other. Sure, some of the deadlines are over a month away, but then there’s like five of them in one week. I can’t even get any of them started”

“It sounds like you are feeling very unwell. Have you discussed this with your attending physician or anyone else in your care team?” Optimus asked with clear worry in his voice.

“Not really. When I’ve had calls or appointments with them, I always feel fine in the moment, so I don’t say anything, and when I get back home, it all explodes in my face” you chuckled dryly, looking out of the side window to the darkness outside. It had started raining too, and since Optimus had decided to turn to the highway, there were barely any lights anywhere anymore, because you were so far away from lived in areas.

“Would you like to discuss your current state of mind with me then? I would like to hear how you are really feeling” he inquired.

“I can try” you sighed. “You know how us humans live so much shorter lives compared to you cybertronians?”

“Yes”

“I remember thinking back to when I was like sixteen years old, that I would never make it to twenty. But here I am, in my mid-twenties and now it has changed to “I don't think I’ll make it to thirty”. I wonder if I’ll ever stop thinking like that? To you, that’s probably nothing. Thirty years goes by in a blink of an eye for you, because you live for millions of years. I can’t even imagine living that long. I can’t even imagine living thirty years…” you trailed off.

Optimus could feel you trembling on the passenger’s seat. You were most likely trying to hold in your tears, to stop yourself from crying. He knew you hated crying in front of others, so he didn’t comment on it.

“You are probably right about the fact that thirty years is a short time for me, but that does not mean I do not appreciate it. Take these last three years we have known each other, for example. It might have been a very short time for me, but it has consisted of some of the best things I’ve experienced in eons. Meeting you, for instance. You are not a burden (Name). You are my most precious one. I do not want to see you in pain, but I would still take that over never seeing you again. You are so very strong, but you must also rest sometimes”

You finally started sobbing the moment you heard the words “my most precious one”. Optimus was the only one to ever say something like that to you, he was the only one who seemed to truly understand what you needed.

“You should not burn yourself out because of something like university. It will wait until you are well again. Life happens now, and you can not sacrifice yourself for a future that you know nothing about. You never know where life might take you, but know this. I will always be there with you. You will never have to face these hardships alone again” Optimus finished.

“Than-thank-thank you” you sobbed like a child.

All the stress, all the grief, everything was just pouring out of you now that the dam had been opened. You were crying like a child, just crying away all your frustration as Optimus kept you safe. Even if your time in this universe was just a blink for him, you hoped he would be there until it was your time to go. Maybe you could stay longer if he was there, maybe you would make it past that thirty year mark if he was with you. You couldn’t tell the future, but you could hope.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ the patient in 206 ♡

♡ Pairing: patient!mingi x curvy!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You always keep it professional at work but, when an attractive new patient begins to push the boundaries, you find it difficult to resist his charm.

♡ Genre: fluff/suggestive

♡ Word Count: 1.8k

♡ Warnings: reader’s short so there’s references to how tiny she is, mingi puts his face in your boobs nonsexually. they're just comfy for him, mention of blood/anesthesia

♡ A/N: This is based on an idea @urlacuna threw into my asks. I hope I did a good job interpreting what you wanted into a fic!

Red licorice, if you eat enough of it, does a hell of a job mimicking internal bleeding. That’s why the patient in 202 is here today for a colonoscopy. Just to make sure. You know this because the husband of a patient is draped over the nurse’s station while you’re doing charts, huffing and puffing because he has to be here instead of presumably lounging on a couch wiping flaky orange Cheeto dust on the arm of his recliner. This is about as sexy as a job in nursing gets but it’s what pays the bills so you listen, partially anyway, fighting off the urge to throw what’s left of your watered down iced coffee onto his face. 

“Sir,” your coworker interrupts, her lack of patience for his bullshit obvious from the start, “Your wife’s asking for you. If you’ll go in and see her…” Before she can finish her sentence he’s stomping off, mumbling something to himself. She’s your favorite coworker for a reason. She takes a seat on your desk like you’re not in the middle of something. “I’d rather get two colonoscopies with no anesthesia than be married to that asshole,” she says louder than she should. You bury your face in your hands, muffled laughter escaping the spaces between your fingers, “You can’t say that!” 

She crosses her legs, thumbing through a patient’s file, “Like you weren’t thinking it. Anyway, I need you to take a patient for me.” “I’m already assigned room 205,” “Now you’re not” she declares, opening the folder to face you, the face sheet glowing like an ancient text in an adventure film. You see the name Song Min Gi. The picture, oh, the picture. “Remember him?” she asks. Remember? How couldn’t you? You’d been thinking of him ever since he came in last week. Not that you’d tell her that. Not that you need to. It’s painted all over your face the same way it was when you first saw him. 

Mingi came in with his best friend, Yunho you’re pretty sure his name was, to drop off some paperwork for his endoscopy. The other nurses swarmed the desk like moths to a flame, a sea of fluttering eyelashes and girlish laughter. It wasn’t often…or ever…that two tall handsome men sauntered into your job. And they weren’t just gorgeous. They were complete gentlemen, taking time to ask each of you about your day and making cute little jokes that eased some of the tension of such a high stress job.

As attractive as they both were, it was Mingi who had you wrapped around his finger from the moment he walked in. “We could climb him…” your mind whispered. The smile on his face whispered back that he might let you if you asked. “The little one” Mingi had called you, a suitable nickname with you being the shortest nurse on staff. 

“I like you, little one.” 

“Thank you, little one.” 

“See you soon, little one.”

The timbre of his voice echoed through your chest, the aftershock still felt when you returned home that night. You’d thought of him often since then, hoping that you’d see him again. You’d even peeked at when his endoscopy was scheduled for, excited to find out that you’d be on that day. Today. But you’d forgotten. Yesterday had been so chaotic that you rushed in this morning barely knowing which planet you were on, let alone the day.

Hair a mess. Makeup nowhere to be found. Mismatched socks on. At least your sneakers were on the right feet. You slam the folder closed, “I can’t. Look at me!” “Oh, stop it” your coworker shushes, brushing your hair back, “You look beautiful. Now go! 205 needs me and Mr. Song Min Gi needs you. Go, go, go!” She has you up from your chair, rushing you off with his file in your arms, quicker than you can register what’s happening. “Have fun!” she teases, shoving you into room 206 where Mingi lounges in the bed, his long legs stretched out.

He’s already loopy, you can tell by his low eyes and the blissful smile on his face. Yunho stands beside him, deep in conversation about something that becomes irrelevant when they see you. Mingi sits up, recklessly shifting his arms as if he doesn’t have an IV jabbed into one of them, “Little one!” “Oh my god, be careful” you gasp, scurrying to his side before he accidentally rips the IV from his arm. “So, are you my nurse now or did you just come to see me?” Both. The answer is ‘both’.

You dodge the question, “It looks like she got you all set up for me so let me just go check with the doctor and see if they’re ready to take you back. In the meantime, don’t injure yourself please.” Mingi winks at you, “Anything for you.” “You’re disgusting you know that?” Yunho groans, rolling his eyes, “Sorry about him. It’s the anesthesia kicking in.” You assure Yunho that it’s fine, slipping back out of the room under the watchful eye of Mingi who waves at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. When you return a few minutes later he’s already out cold.

“Be careful with him” Yunho warns, “He might try to, uh, force himself to wake up.” You aren’t worried. You’ve dealt with it before. Patients try to fight it off all the time. Eventually, they all succumb to it though. Even on the off chance that they do wake up the anesthesiologist has them drifting back off to dreamland in a millisecond. It’s almost annoying how cute Mingi manages to be, worthy of a full page spread in a magazine even in those dreadful blue tissue paper clothes they make patients wear.

Rolling him to a room not too far down the hall, you hand him over to the doctor and get back to your other duties. Checking on other patients, making sure they have their discharge papers, and shoveling some lunch into your mouth in between. You’re hiding in the office kitchen, cheeks packed with food and another fork full coming your way, when another nurse rushes in to grab you. “Y/N, room 206! He’s out of his mind!” You check your watch. Mingi? He should be out but he shouldn’t be awake yet.

No questions asked you race behind her to find his room full of nurses. Mingi’s up bouncing on the balls of his bare feet and…rapping? Your closest friend there, the matchmaker herself, scurries over to you, ushering you closer to Mingi. “We’ve been trying to get him to lay down but he won’t do it because he wants, uh, well…” “My wife!” Mingi shouts gleefully, long arms embracing you. His chin rests on the top of your head as the two of you sway back and forth. “Isn’t she cute?” he coos, petting your hair, “Mmm and she smells nice.” You pat him on the back, a mother soothing her agitated baby,

“You guys can head out. I’ve got him.” The room empties out except for Yunho who helps you seat Mingi safely on the edge of the bed, his arms still around you. Mingi sighs, resting his head on your chest, “Soft. Mmm. So soft.” He nuzzles his cheeks against your breasts and Yunho nearly chokes on air. “I’m so sorry. Mingi, stop it!” Mingi groans, shooing his best friend away, “We’re married. I can do what I want. Right, baby?” He looks up at you, his brown eyes are angelic under the fluorescent light, and you can’t bring yourself to disrupt his delusion.

“Right, you can do what you want but can you do something for me?” “Anything” he sighs, his nose buried in your cleavage as his hands traverse your curves. “Let’s lay down, okay? I’m a little tired.” You fake a yawn and he nods, easing you onto the bed with him. His face still in your chest, Mingi goes on telling you how much he loves you. He smiles at memories of how nice your honeymoon was. “It was nice, wasn’t it?” “The best.” This was far from what you expected coming in to work today but, in the back of your mind, you’re enjoying the affection, even if it is medically induced.

After a few minutes, Mingi drifts back off to sleep, giving you the chance to sneak away. The rest of the day goes on as normally as it can after something like that has happened. It’s not like you can tell anyone. You should just forget it. Maybe Mingi will. Yunho better let him. When you get the news that Mingi’s awake for a second time you beg another nurse to take him. You don’t even want to think about what might happen if he does remember and you’d rather not find out. 

Thankfully she takes over, allowing you to finish out your shift uneventfully. “See you tomorrow!” you shout over your shoulder, waving to your coworkers as they filter out behind you. You turn to check that the coast is clear before crossing the parking lot only to slam face first into a brick wall. You stumble backward, and strong hands grip your arms keeping you on your feet. A brick wall? Not a brick wall. Mingi’s chest. It’s your turn to look up at him now, his cheeks are tinted a strawberry red. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry…” 

“No, I’m sorry…for a lot of things apparently.” 

You glance behind him and see Yunho leaning against a car nearby. You wave to each other, the context of Mingi’s apology clear. “Look, I…” “Don’t worry about it. It happens.” Mingi narrows his eyes at you, skeptical of how often this actually happens. “Okay, it doesn’t happen” you relent, “But it’s really okay. I swear.” “I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m such an idiot. Clearly, that date I was gonna ask you on is out of the window.” “Date?” you shriek, clearing your throat to regain your composure, “I mean, date? You were gonna ask me on a date?” Mingi hangs his head, hands in his pockets, unable to meet your gaze. “I was but it’d be kinda weird now, wouldn’t it?” You stand up straight, arms folded across your chest, “Well you’ve gotta ask to know, don’t you?” “Oh, uh, does that mean that you’d…would you…date…with me?” “When?” “Now?” “Now?” “No?” “Fine. Let’s go. My car” you demand, strutting to your car with some newfound boldness overtaking you.

You aren’t sure if he’s even following you until you spot him out of the corner of your eye. Clutching your purse close to your chest you try to suppress how giddy you are then the panic sets in. A date? Looking like this? Unlocking the door, you throw your purse into the backseat, “I should probably go home and change into something cuter.” “Cuter?” Mingi asks, holding the door open for you, “You’re cute enough. Plus, you don’t have to impress me anymore. We’re married, remember?”