#spent 20 minutes looking through the tag again

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Like many I’m feeling the siren song of kalluzeb again bc no one else in Star Wars was doing it like them

[pedrospatch]

mornings like these

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: There’s a reason you’re always late to morning patrol. That reason’s name is Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, NO AGE SPECIFIED FOR READER. established relationship though it’s lightly implied it’s a fairly new relationship, hints of fluff, hints of smut, morning wood, very brief mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and fingering.

word count: < 1k

a/n: this is quite literally nothing. just a blurb i wrote in 20 ish or so minutes. it could have been a whole thing, but i am in the middle of editing a long wip update. i needed a break from it and this happened. hardly any plot, hardly any porn, what would you even call this? lol

You wake with a gentle start, your eyes fluttering open.

Sunlight filters in through the sheer white curtains.

Soft. Warm. Golden.

A strong arm tightens around you.

“Mm,” he mumbles from beside you. “S’nice.”

His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.

You’re still getting used to it. To mornings like these.

Waking up next to him—with him.

Naked in his bed, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.

You’re laying on your side, your back against his chest.

You feel him already, hard on curve of your ass.

Suddenly, all you can think about is the night before. 

Every deep, swollen kiss he gave you.

Every sweet, loving word he’d whispered to you. 

Every minute of every hour he’d spent worshiping your body like he was getting to know it for the first time all over again.

“It is nice,” you agree with him, exhaling a small sigh of content. Finding his large hand splayed over your lower belly, you lace your fingers together with his, the same long, thick fingers that stretched the tight walls of your aching cunt all night long. “After three days of pouring rain, this is very nice. It almost makes me look forward to going out on patrol.”

Chuckling softly, Joel nuzzles his nose into your bare shoulder, deeply inhaling the subtle, delicate scent of milk and honey soap. “Don’t mean the weather, sweet girl.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No?”

He gently nips at your flesh with his teeth. “Nope.”

“Then what do you mean?” you press, innocently.

As if you don’t already know.

“This.” There’s a brief pause. “Wakin’ up with you.”

Giggling, you tease, “You’ve gone soft for me, Miller.”

“And so what if I have?” He’s grinning, you can feel it.

Slowly, he begins to lower your intertwined hands and drags them further down your belly.

You know what he’s doing. The man is insatiable.

“Joel,” you utter his name breathlessly.

“What is it, honey?” he coos into the nape of your neck.

Oh yes, you know exactly what he’s doing.

Pulling your hand out of his, you roll onto your back and turn your head, your nose lightly bumping his. “Don’t start,” you warn him in the sternest voice you can possibly muster.

There’s a mischievous glimmer in his dark brown eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’.”

His cock is rock hard, poking into your hip.

“We have patrol in an hou—”

Joel’s hand slips between your thighs and you’re cut off by the sound of your own loud gasp as he drags a finger languidly along your slick, warm folds.

He skims your jawline with his nose. “Now, what were you sayin’?”

“Oh my fuck,” you curse as he sinks his finger into your cunt, burying it to his knuckle. “Joel, Tommy will kill us if we’re late to our shift again—” You moan as he curls his finger upwards, your hips bucking up off of the bed and into his hand.

That’s where Joel Miller had you.

Right in the palm of his hand.

In every which way possible.

“I can stop,” he murmurs against your cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling your soft skin. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t tell him to stop.

Of course you don’t want him to stop.

You never, ever want him to stop.

Moments later, Joel’s head is between your thighs and he’s devouring your cunt like he’s having breakfast. His tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, a mere warm up before you take his throbbing cock.

Hands tangled in his graying, dark brown curls, you forget all about getting to patrol on time.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[batbux]

It's forty minutes into the latest state of the company press conference and Bruce has had to mute his mic entirely to avoid being turned into a meme AGAIN for sighing too much at his own event. For all that he's spent almost 20 years coaching his own children on not making scenes, he's really not much better. It's hot and he doesn't want to be here. His ribs hurt. He's tired. He's hungry. He's every excuse Dick or Jason have trotted out over the years.

(Tim understands company manners and can almost always be trusted to stick it out as long as he's allowed to vent his frustrations afterwards. He's recently taken to smashing ugly thrifted dishes. Stephanie and Damian have been collecting any ceramic not entirely pulverized and turning them into pavers for Alfred's garden.)

(Bruce gave up after Tim. He really only needs one kid to tag along to social events. If the kid start to outnumber him they start getting IDEAS.)

His distraction is why it takes two very rude repetitions of his name for him to take notice at the young reporter pushing his way to the front. Lucius stands, cutting off the project manager currently presenting and speaks into the mic.

"Please keep hold all questions until the end of the presentation, thank you."

"Mr. Wayne," the reporter tries again and Bruce waves away Lucius's further protests.

"Can I help you?" He asks, smiling with the full force of Brucie Wayne's charm behind it. It's been awhile since his last scandal, but if the press is inventing drama then it's less work for him.

The man holds up a photograph almost accusingly. He reeks of gotcha journalism.

Bruce squints towards him, unable to fully make out the contents of the photo. Dick may have been right when he gently suggested Bruce add glasses to his Brucie Wayne persona but that was a hill Bruce was still willing to die on. It was bad enough he had to have a prescription COWL.

"What do you have to say about the presence of your adopted son, Timothy Drake at the illegal mob in Robinson Park last Saturday?"

"Drake-Wayne," Bruce corrected because Tim hyphenated, damn it. He was the first of his children to let Bruce tag the Wayne name on and it mattered, damn it. "Wait do you mean-"

"How about reports of him kissing a man while there?"

"A blond man?" Bruce asked, finally giving up and crossing to take the photo for himself. "Oh. No, that's his boyfriend."

There was a beat of silence before Bruce realized his mistake. Just as the reporters began to squall, he dropped the blurry photo and began to speed walk off, phone suddenly in hand.

Through the podium's microphone, the gathered reporters heard one thing as Bruce evacuated the immediate vicinity.

"Tim? Don't be mad."

---

Despite Bruce's best efforts, he becomes a meme.

---

Immediately following the bombshell that Timothy Drake-Wayne had a boyfriend, social media blows up, clamoring for more information. They're ravenous for it, desperate. Tim doesn't have a personal social media presence but they stalk his professional accounts religiously. Bruce does have personal social media, but he maintains radio silence.

In the end, a Gotham based "influencer" stumbles across Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne getting donuts at Kosher Donuts and Co. Dick is personable, as always, and stops to speak with the young woman briefly.

"Yeah, Tim wasn't mad," he laughs when asked. "Just disappointed. But man, he knows how to milk it."

"Bruce is in the doghouse, huh?" she asks, full of false sympathy.

"A little bit," Dick says as Damian mumbles, "Titus would never share."

"But," Dick continued. "Tim's spun it so Bruce is on the hook for like, half a million in donations for local LGBT charities. Tim says it would hurt less if he sponsored a new shelter too, so that's something to look forward to."

"That's a lot of money! Where's it all going?"

"Oh you know," Dick says and gestures vaguely. "A lot of different programs."

"Yeah? Anything you personally want to see done with the funding?"

"Drag story time," Damian answers before Dick can. He looks intense. "But not for children. For dogs. In the shelter."

---

A day later, Tim breaks the silence. He goes live on Bruce's Instagram.

"So the problem was that Bruce thought the reporter was saying I was being unfaithful," Tim explains. "He totally forgot I wasn't out to everyone yet. Bruce was just worried because he's already told me if I break up with my boyfriend, he's not uninviting him from any future family events."

"Luckily, I was in fact just kissing my boyfriend at PRIDE. Just because people got shifty with the permits at the last second because of protestors doesn't make it an illegal mob. If you wanna hear about Wayne's and illegal mobs, talk to Dickie about his younger years. Nothing I do can compare."

[joelsprettyprincess]

Thank You, Mr. Miller

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader (NSFW)

Joel lets you crash at his house following his birthday grill. You give him an incredibly wet, sloppy, desperate....gift.

Tags: facefucking, rough oral, choking, spit kink, degradation, facial, big fat age gap (college age/mid 50s), no outbreak, modern au, birthday Joel, pet names (babydoll, pretty girl)

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: This is not lore accurate in the slightest, I just really wanted to write about giving Joel head. Please be gentle in criticism, I haven't written for an audience in a long time. And minors DNI OBVIOUSLY!!

"You ready?! We're gonna be late!" your father called up to you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The occasion was a grill at your father's college friend's house for his birthday. His name was Joel Miller.

You'd met him a couple times before; he and your father sometimes got together to crack open some beers.

Ever since you first met Joel, he hadn't left your mind. He was tall and rugged with a dark tousle of hair. His daughter, Sarah, was a little younger than you. Your father had mentioned that she'd just moved into her college dorm.

The last time you had seen Joel was last November, at Thanksgiving. He and Sarah had come over to share a meal. Sarah was friendly but pretty quiet, and you two hadn't hit it off like you thought you would.

Joel...was a different story. Your brain replayed the limited interactions with him over and over, looking for a hidden meaning. Some days you swore he gave you meaningful looks, and other days you yelled at yourself for believing that a man like him was into a girl like you. Someone half his age.

So why were you getting all dolled up, when it would be hot outside and no one would be looking anyway? The same reason you'd bought a whole new sundress for the party, and even shaved. You secretly hoped one man in particular would be looking.

Your father yelled your name again. "Coming," you responded quickly, and added a final bit of mascara. You grabbed your white crossbody bag off the bathroom doorknob and slung it over your shoulders, completing the look. Clomping down the stairs in your wedges, you followed your father out to the car.

It was just you and him going. Your mother didn't feel good enough to go, claiming she "could feel a cold forming." More likely she wanted to avoid being stuck being in the car for an hour. Not that you could blame her.

Still though, you were definitely looking forward to the grill. Even if that excitement was tinged with anxiety.

Soon you and your father were bundled into the car. He was driving since he knew the roads better.

Actually, you'd never been to Joel's house. It was always him coming to see your father, not the other way around. You wondered what his house was like. Probably not big. Traditional? Modern? Cluttered? You had no idea.

Maybe you and Sarah would become better friends. You guys could at least talk about college.

20 minutes had passed and you were already getting irritated. Your father had elected to put on the most boring podcast known to man, one about the economy. A man with a way-too-cheerful voice was going on and on about GDP and supply-demand.

Putting on your headphones, you distracted yourself by switching between Twitter, Tumblr, and TikTok. The holy trinity.

And this was how the next half hour was spent: scrolling. Not very productive, but there really wasn't much to see except the highway. Thankfully it was pretty empty on this route; apparently Thursday afternoon wasn't a popular time to travel.

However, this bout of good luck ended as soon as you neared Austin. Traffic went from almost non-existent to congested within a minute. Your father sighed and turned off his podcast.

"Now comes the hard part," he sighed.

The next 15 or so minutes were wasted just inching through traffic. Everyone was trying to get to their exits, and people kept changing lanes at the last minute, or getting into the wrong lane, and the frustration was palpable. You were really glad you weren't driving.

After what seemed like forever, the two of you finally broke free from the highway and got onto a regular road. Soon you were zipping towards Joel's house at a nice speed.

"Did you bring a present?" you asked your dad.

"Nah," he remarked. "Men don't really need 'presents.'"

You scoffed a little at that. "Alright."

Now the sights were a little more interesting. Austin was bustling with activity.

You drove through the urban area for perhaps 5 minutes, then your dad turned and the buildings and crowds thinned out.

Eventually the two of you reached a nice suburb with rows of houses.

Within two minutes, your dad pulled up behind a bunch of other cars that were parked around what was obviously Joel's house.

"We're here," he announced (kind of uselessly).

It was pretty small, as you'd guessed. It was mostly made of brick, just one story, and the front porch was pretty bare bones.

But you could hear voices and music in the backyard. There were some people going up to the house, and the front door was wide open.

You and your father got out of the car and made your way up the sidewalk to Joel's house.

The door was covered with a screen. You opened it and stepped inside, your father closing it behind you.

"Joel," he called. "We're here."

There was no answer. You looked around the room.

It was pretty normal. Your average American house. There was a worn looking green sofa, a brown loveseat that didn't match the sofa at all, and directly in front of you was the kitchen. To the right was a little hallway.

Both the sofa and the loveseat were occupied by various people. "He's outside," someone said.

You and your dad walked into the kitchen, where the back door was. Stepping out onto the patio, you could see there were quite a few people here, of all ages. They must be his neighbors, you figured.

You heard a familiar voice shout your father's name. To your right was him. Joel.

"Joel!" your dad exclaimed, and they quickly embraced.

"Hey, little lady," he greeted you, smiling. Oh, that smile. It could mean a thousand things.

"Hey," you greeted him more shyly than you'd like. "Happy birthday."

He chuckled. "Ugh, don't remind me. Gettin' closer to death ain't no cause for celebration."

Your dad hooted in response.

"Tommy's helpin' me grill, over there," Joel said, pointing to his brother on the other side of the yard. You couldn't help but notice how big and veiny his hands looked-

You shook your head a little. Get a grip.

Joel was explaining some things, but you weren't really listening. Your senses were being overloaded with this man in front of you. That was the best way to describe him- he was very masculine. Big, broad shoulders, a solid build, and his beard made you imagine unspeakable things.

Eventually you asked about Sarah. "I'd love to catch up with her," you said.

Joel shook his head regretfully. "Ah, she's not here. She has class today. She goes to the University of Houston, dunno if your dad told you."

"Oh, that sucks." You nodded. "Well, you can tell her I say hey."

He smiled. "Will do."

For the next half hour, Joel, Tommy, and your dad tackled the grills and made a huge amount of burgers and hot dogs. Tommy made sure everything was organized so everyone was served in an orderly fashion.

You got a cheeseburger, plus some dangerously salty fries and sat at one of the folding tables to enjoy your meal.

Of course everyone here was a stranger, so you were expecting to be left alone. When someone sat beside you, you involuntarily jumped.

It was Joel, and he laughed. "Sorry, baby, ain't mean to scare you like that."

"Oh! Ha, no, you're good," you squeaked, quickly wiping your mouth. Gosh, could you be normal for one second?

"How's college? You're a sophomore now, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. It's going pretty good, even though my classes are getting harder."

"Remind me of your major again..?"

"I'm undeclared right now. Just doing my generals."

Joel nodded his approval. "You know, I never even finished college."

That caught you off guard. "Oh. Wait, really? Then..."

He shrugged. "I dropped out. Didn't have the discipline or the intelligence. I went into an apprenticeship instead."

"Oh, that's definitely a unique path," you remarked.

"Now, don't you drop out," he said sternly. "You're a smart girl."

You laughed. "Not that smart."

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked suddenly.

Trying not to act shocked, you casually answered, "Nah. I don't."

"Good. You're too good for those boys. Too pretty."

You and Joel continued to chat about school and careers for a bit. Your gaze kept darting everywhere; looking at him was like looking at the sun. He was just a halo of light and focusing on him for too long made you nervous.

Finally he left, needing to attend to someone, and your brain ran at a million miles, replaying the conversation, criticizing your voice and responses, deducing anything meaningful from Joel's words. Did he mean something more when he mentioned a boyfriend? Or was he simply curious? Ugh...this stupid crush was driving you insane.

A couple hours passed, and the party slowly died down. By this time it was about 6pm. People started leaving; walking home or maneuvering their cars out of the puzzle that was the driveway and street.

To your dismay, you found your father curled up on the loveseat, way drunker than he should be.

"Guess he had a couple too many beers?" Joel said, chuckling.

You sighed. "I'm really sorry. I dunno what he was doing all this time. I should've checked on him."

"S'okay," Joel assured you. "Do you know the way home?"

"Ah, no..." you admitted, embarrassed. You'd barely been paying attention on the drive home.

"Hmm." Joel crossed his arms and thought. "Well...then you can't leave, can you?"

Oh.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Uh– um...I guess not? But I don't want to impose. I can try to find my way back."

But Joel shook his head. "Your dad would be mad if I sent you out there. It gets dark quick these days, y'know. I'd hate for you to get in trouble on the way back. Look...we have a guest room you can use." He looked at your dad again. "I suppose he'll be comfy right there."

Your dad was drowsy, laying on the couch, still in his day clothes.

"There's a bathroom you can use, right across from Sarah's room. I'll show you. If that's okay with you?" He looked for your consent.

"Um...well, if it's not too much trouble," you said.

"Oh, of course not!" Joel insisted. "You can even wear some of Sarah's clothes; y'all are about the same size. It'll be no trouble at all, baby."

There was that word again. Baby. You couldn't tell if it was platonic or not, and it drove you crazy.

"Well, alright. Thank you, Mr. Miller."

"Joel," he gently corrected. "No need to be formal."

He showed you the bathroom and the guest room, then let you shower while he helped Tommy clean up the mess from the party.

As you cleaned yourself, the only thing on your mind was:

This is going to be very, very interesting.

After you got dressed in Sarah's room, you went to the guest room next door and looked around. It was simply decorated, with a double bed and a dresser by the window. You put down your bag and hoisted yourself onto the bed.

Okay. Okay. Taking deep breaths, you thought about your situation. You were basically alone with a very handsome man whose room was a 5 second walk away, a man who may or may not be interested in you, a man twice your age with a daughter the same age as you.

Totally fine, nothing to worry about. He definitely was not going to be on your mind all night.

Laying down, you tried to distract yourself with your phone again.

After about 20 minutes there was a knock at the door. You got up and opened it.

"We finished cleanin' up," Joel told you. He leaned against the doorframe.

He was so tall.

"That's good," you said. "Thank you for letting us stay here, seriously. I dunno what I'd do without you."

Joel gave you that sweet smile again, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "No problem, missy. If you're still hungry, we got plenty of leftovers."

"Oh, that's okay," you assured him. "I'm more than full. The food was really good."

You were trying to ignore the slightly musky, deep smell that was coming from him. And the way that his shirt clung to his chest and biceps. And the way he was looking at you...

"You need anything else?" he asked.

"You've done so much already," you chuckled. "I think I'm all set for the night."

He smiled and nodded. "Well, don't be afraid to ask."

Get a grip, you creep.

Joel was berating himself. This was so not good.

It was more than not good, it was horrible. His friend's daughter, the same age as his own daughter, was in the guest room all by herself and all he could think were dirty thoughts.

It was her fault! Those cute, innocent looks she kept giving him drove him up the wall. Her pretty body, her adorably nervous mannerisms.

All Joel could think about was how good her lips would look wrapped around his cock.

He was pretty sure she felt the same way but didn't want to push it in case he was wrong. Then he'd really be in trouble.

It was going to be a very hard night.

A couple hours passed. You felt too awkward to venture out of the room, so you stayed on the bed for quite a while. Soon it became dark, and you were glad you didn't have to drive.

Feeling thirsty, you decided to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Your dad was passed out on the couch. Joel was in the kitchen as well. Dammit.

"Hey, babygirl," he said. "Need something?"

"Oh- yes, just some water," you requested.

He got a glass down for you. Passing it to your, your fingers touched, and you swore he kept his there longer than strictly necessary.

Joel watched as you got water out of the fridge. You took a nice sip, then sighed. "Thank you."

"Oh, you've got something, right there-" Joel stepped closer to you and gently wiped the corner of your lips with his knuckle.

You could only stare at him as he did this. He was so close you could see the gray hairs peppering his beard.

He let his finger stay there, and returned your gaze.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, just looking into each other's eyes.

Finally you broke eye contact and he stepped back.

"Th-thanks," you stammered.

He continued looking at you. "You're a real pretty girl, you know," he said.

You weren't sure what to say.

Joel took your chin in his fingers, and ever so softly brushed his lips against your cheek.

You made a small noise and he hesitated. "Is this okay, baby?" he asked.

You could barely breathe or blink or do anything but nod.

Putting one hand on your cheek, Joel leaned in and softly kissed you. After a shocked second, you reciprocated, pressing your lips against his.

He sighed, and pressed deeper, gently sucking on your bottom lip. You felt his tongue, and opened your mouth a little, allowing him in.

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed Joel back. He tasted so good, with a hint of toothpaste.

"Oh..." he mumbled, hands going from your face to your back. He backed you up till you hit the counter, and he softly growled, pushing his tongue in deeper.

His hands traveled further down to your hips, and he started caressing your ass.

"So fucking soft," he whispered.

Joel's whole body was pressed against you, and you felt him getting excited.

Finally you broke the kiss, needing air.

"Jesus, this is so fuckin' wrong," Joel muttered. "I'm as old as your dad, for crying out loud..." He shook his head. "And look how excited you got me."

You looked down. There was a noticeable tent in his pants.

"Wow..." you whispered. You had done that.

"C'mere," he said, and pulled you down the hallway to his room. He closed the door behind you.

"On your knees, babydoll." He started undressing, pulling off his pants and boxers. You obediently knelt on the carpet.

Joel pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. You got your first good look at his cock.

First of all, it was big. You weren't inexperienced, but you hadn't encountered anything his size before. It was girthy, with prominent veins going from the groin to the fat, leaking tip. It had a slight curve.

Joel placed his hand on your head. "Open," he ordered, and you obeyed, slightly sticking out your tongue.

He placed his cock on your tongue. You slowly licked up, making him groan.

"Fuckk, yes," he gasped.

You focused on just the tip, licking and slurping at it. His precum was already leaking out.

Joel's hand shot out to grip your hair as you slowly service him, dragging your tongue across the tip and eventually taking it in your mouth, sucking it.

The only noises in the room were Joel's breathy groans and the wet, slurping noise from your mouth as you licked stripes up his fat shaft.

"Just like that, baby," he whispered, stroking your hair. "So fuckin' good."

You took more of him in, looking up at his tightly shut eyes and furrowed brow.

Joel pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, first gently, then he got more impatient and rougher, thrusting into your mouth with little regard to your comfort.

"Yes, fuck, take my fucking cock," he growled. He put his hands on either side of your head and started roughly facefucking you, panting and groaning. His balls slapped against your chin.

You moaned and could feel your mouth producing drool as Joel wildly thrusted into you. His cock kept nearly hitting the back of your throat, and you were gagging a little.

Your drool pooled and dripped down onto your bare tits.

"Agh- mghhrgh-" you gasped, barely able to form a coherent word or thought. The only thing that was going through your mind was cock.

"Choke on it," Joel growled. He was getting mean with it. His cock pushed into your mouth again and again, not stopping or slowing, even as you choked on it. You desperately tapped on his thigh to tell him to let up.

Joel reluctantly did so, allowing you to take several gasping breaths before coaxing it back in. He resumed the pace, a little gentler than before, but still brutal.

By this time he'd backed you up so your head was against the edge of the bed. He was using your mouth like it was a fleshlight, an inanimate object. He was pulling at your hair.

Your eyes were tearing. You couldn't even suck anymore, just had to lay there while Joel used you.

How long had he felt like this? This pent-up frustration?

"Yes, yes, fuck," he chanted, thrusts growing more erratic. He was close.

You deepthroated him a few times, going until your nose was pressed against the hair at the base of his cock. You made sure your lips gripped his cock.

"I'm close, babydoll," he moaned. "Gonna fuckin' cum all over your pretty face. You want that? Yeah?"

"Mmm," you groaned in agreement, blinking several times.

"That's right. Gonna fucking swallow my cum, right? You little slut. You've wanted this cock for a while, huh? S'why you're drooling all over it like a dumb whore."

The insults turned you on. Joel kept thrusting, chasing his release, and your eyes rolled as you struggled to take it all.

Finally, Joel let out a loud groan and pressed himself against your mouth, cumming hard onto your tongue. His hot thick load rapidly filled your mouth, and you moaned softly as his balls twitched. He slowly pulled out and stroked his shaft, letting out a second thick load onto your forehead. It slowly oozed down your face onto your nose and cheeks.

Joel remained where he was, riding out the rest of his orgasm on your face. Soon he'd splattered his cum all over, glazing your cheeks, nose, and lips. Some of it dripped onto your tits.

You inhaled deeply as you caught your breath, amazed at the amount he'd let out. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of his load.

Joel puffed too, slowly coming down from his high.

There was a long silence, then Joel breathed: "Best birthday ever.”

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Beautiful Day

Summary- Your relaxing day with Eddie is suddenly interrupted, but you’re not going to let it ruin your day

Genre- Fluff (?)

Warnings- None c:

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee

Word Count- 1.1k

You let out a long, relaxed sigh as the heat from the sun warmed your body. Laid back against the flimsy plastic lawn chair, your legs crossed at the ankles as they were rested at the edge of the glass table before you. You could sense a presence next to you, gently opening your eyes and peering over next to you, only to see Eddie handing over the joint you had been sharing.

“Thanks handsome.” You said with a smile as you took the joint and relit it as it hit your lips.

“Anytime gorgeous.” He groaned out as he moved himself into the same comfortable position you were in, his hands resting behind his head as he took in the sun.

As you took a drag you sat up slightly, taking in the full scene around you.

The weather had finally started to brighten up.

It was the first day in weeks that had been higher than 65 degrees out, the sun was shining bright and it was just enough to keep you both warm without getting burnt. A pair of tiny shorts and a bikini top was the perfect outfit for the day, and Eddie had been relaxing next to you in a pair of faded blue jeans with no shirt to accompany it. The perfect outfit for him in your opinion. The sun was shining against his hair as it was messily thrown up with one of your scrunchies he had ‘borrowed’ weeks earlier.

He looked so perfect, and you knew he could say the same about you.

Days like these were what you missed the most when the cold weather had first started months earlier. It wasn’t the beach or amusement park dates, it wasn’t the nights spent at the drive in or the countless hours you would just walking around the forest trails with the guys. It was the days where you could happily say you had done not a damn thing and go to bed satisfied with knowing you were just enjoying each other’s company in the beautiful weather.

Eddie could sense your eyes on him for longer than normal and turned his head slightly, opening one eye with a squint as the sun shone into it, a smile at his lips as he watched you quickly try to turn your eyes away from him and take another drag from the joint.

“Something on your mind?” He asked, adjusting himself once more as he took his feet off of the table and reached forward to sip from the beer he had forgotten to open when he set it on the table nearly 20 minutes earlier. Too eager to relax again you supposed.

You shook your head gently as you glanced over to him, taking one last quick puff on the joint before passing it to him after his first sip of beer,

“No. Just missed this.” You shrugged and passed the joint back to him, smiling with him as he raised it to his lips.

“Me too.”

You giggled to yourself, settling back into your lawn chair as you heard Eddie sigh, his own chair creaking as he lay back.

You both took in the sounds of such a beautiful day. The breeze rustling the leaves of the trees, the birds chirping as they flew through the sky, a few kids laughing amongst themselves as they ran back and forth through the sprinkler on their lawn, and you could hear the gravel softly crunching beneath the tires of a car that sounded like it was approaching closer and closer.

You peeked your eyes open and saw that it was approaching the trailer. It was Jeff’s car and you could see that inside was the rest of the guys, watching the both of you with confused looks on their faces as you lay out in the sun.

“Hey Eds,” You said to him, grabbing his attention, “the guys are here?”

“Hm?” He picked his head up and saw Jeff park in the gravel driveway, him and the guys stepping out and wandering over to you two.

“Dude, what the fuck? We’ve been calling you.” Grant said, sounding quite annoyed.

“Oh, sorry. I’ve been out here with (y/n).”

You smiled to them and gave a little wave, earning smiles from them and a wave back from Jeff.

“It’s finally nice out,” Gareth started, “we were gonna get the garage open and practice, we tried calling you and got worried when you didn’t answer.”

“I mean, that does sound like fun…” Eddie glanced over to you, “But i’m a little busy right now.”

“With what?” Jeff asked.

“Not a fucking thing.” He chuckled to himself and took a quick puff from the joint between his fingers, “Sorry, i think today id rather just sit back and enjoy the weather.”

The three boys nodded, and you could tell that they were a bit upset that Eddie wouldn’t be hanging around with them today. You sat up slightly and called out to them,

“You can join us if you like!”

They turned to back to you and you smiled politely, wanting them to feel welcome to spend the nice day with you two, even if it was different than what they had planned.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah, we don’t want to intrude if you guys are doing your own thing.” Grant said as he stepped closer.

“Nah, you guys can join us.” Eddie leaned over and handed you the joint, quickly standing up from his plastic chair, “I’ll fix up my stereo inside so we can listen to some of those new tapes i got.”

Eddie made his way inside the trailer and as the boys stepped closer to the table you handed off the joint to Jeff,

“Here, you guys can finish that, i’ll grab you some chairs!” You smiled and wandered over next to the porch, a few extra plastic folding chairs under your arms, “I’m going to head inside and get some water, do you guys want anything?” You asked.

“Water sounds good.” Jeff said before taking a quick puff from the joint you had given him.

“If there’s any lemonade in the fridge i’ll have some, if that’s alright?” Grant asked.

“I think there’s a little left! Gareth, did you need anything?” You asked as they unfolded and sat in their chairs around the table.

“Water sounds good.” He said with a smile as he sat back.

“Perfect!” You smiled, “I’ll be right back.”

The boys smiled to themselves as you stepped back into the trailer, faintly heading the speakers of Eddie’s stereo getting closer as they watched him maneuver the speakers over to the window.

“Man,” Jeff laughed, “mom and dad sure know how to have a good time.”

[mountainsandmayhem]

Frankie x Santi x Female Reader

Summary: Your boyfriends take care of you while you have your period

WC: 1.6k

AN: This is 100% a self indulgent fic that I wrote in about 20 minutes. It’s not BETA’d and I’ll probably end up just deleting it in a few days. But, I’ve had my period for 8 days now (tmi, but deal with it) and you can thank @for-a-longlongtime and @lotusbxtch for sending me an interview with these dummies and now all I want is for Frankie to be my boyfriend and Santi to be my boyfriend and I want them to be boyfriends. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics.

Tags: pure fluff, mentions of period cramps and taking painkillers, men kiss (again, deal with it)

“Santi?” You called, your voice echoing through what you’re sure is a dark and empty house. “Pope?” You try, hoping he’ll respond to his nickname. When you get no response you try his full name.

A light flicks on in the kitchen. “Babe?” Your boyfriend says, the concern in his voice mirrors yours.

Francisco comes into view. “I need Santi,” you mumble as he pulls you into a hug.

“His flight was delayed. He’s not going to get back until after midnight.” His lips press to your forehead. “You’re warm. Are you feeling ok?”

Of your two boyfriends, one is a chaotic golden retriever, the other is a calm German Shepard. You love them both, but when your period surprised you three days early you knew you needed Santiago tonight.

“I need Santi,” you whine, a new wave of cramps and nausea coursing through your body.

“Did you get your period?” His voice is sympathetic but as you look up at him he has a mix of fear, and something akin to excitement, in his eyes.

You nod, noting that it’s definitely excitement in his eyes. Which makes absolutely no sense since Frankie cannot stand to see you in pain or sick.

“He left me a note!” He exclaims. “I’m going to make you all better.”

“A note?” He pulls you towards the couch, getting you all cozy in the corner of the plush sectional. He leaves the living room for the kitchen. “Fish! What do you mean a note?”

He comes back in with a piece of yellow lined legal paper in his hands. He starts to read, using his best impression of Santi’s bossy serious tone. The two of you tease him about it relentlessly, which usually ends in the three of you fucking like rabbits until every hole between your happy trio is full and spent.

“Fish, our girl was exceptionally horny earlier than normal so she might get her period while I’m gone. I know you’ve been with her longer, but she’s going to come home calling for me the day my flight lands. Just in case I get delayed I’ve left you some instructions.”

Frankie rolls his eyes, “I hate when he’s right.”

“Same,” you giggle, feeling so damn in love that tears start to burn behind your eyes.

“First, help her change into something comfy. Give her some of your sweats and that waffle knit Henley that usually makes her feral. Let her take whatever sweater she wants from me.”

Your hand peeks out from the blanket and Frankie pulls you to your feet. After you’re changed, wrapped in clothing that belongs to your men, Fish takes the note out again.

“Get her situated back on the couch, rookie move getting her all settled in her work clothes originally, Fish.” His hands fall to his sides defeatedly, he rolls his eyes, “Does this fucker have a crystal ball or something?”

You laugh, clutching your side and holding back a wince. “Don’t make me laugh, Francisco.”

He rushes to your aid, “Lo siento mi amor.”

The two of you leave your bedroom and head back to the couch. He helps you arrange the pillows and then gets your favourite blanket, tucking you in. After sponging his lips softly to yours he heads back into the kitchen.

He reads silently, “Give her one of those little blue pain killers. She has to drink a full glass of water, rub her back in small circles to help her. She’s going to fight you on the water, Fish, but you’re a soldier, stay strong.”

“No,” you whine, seeing the large glass of water in his hands. “Water makes me nauseous, Frankie. Pope lets me have a Diet Coke.”

“No he doesn’t, carinõ. Sit up a bit. I got you.”

His strong hand rubs small circles on your lower back, exactly how Santi does when he forces you to drink a whole glass of water with your pain killers. Once you drain the glass, Frankie takes it from you with a whispered ‘good girl’.

“The next part of the note is two options, depending on how your feeling.”

“Oh?” You ask. You hadn’t realized just how close Pope had been paying attention. He’s always there, calm and bringing you exactly what you need, but you hadn’t realized the extent of what was going on behind his eyes.

“Get her the heating pad and then she’ll either want to watch Dirty Dancing while eating gummy worms or The Departed while eating salt and vinegar chips. If she drank all the water she can have the Diet Coke she wanted originally.”

You snatch the note out of his hands. “There’s no way I’m that predict-“ your words falter as you read exactly what your boyfriend was saying aloud. You smile as you read the next sentence, “Seriously, Fish, if you didn’t make her drink all that water I’m going to punish you once she’s asleep.”

You look up at him mischievously. “I’m gonna tell him you didn’t make me drink any water.”

His mouth opens then shuts, contemplating whether or not to go along with it. “No, I want him to be proud of me, and you.”

“I’m a good girl,” you joke, “Our boyfriend is always proud of me.”

“What’s it gonna be, baby? Dirty Dancing or The Departed?”

You clench your teeth as a sharp cramp pierces at your side. “Dirty Dancing.”

Panic crosses his face as he rubs your knees that are curled tight to your chest through the blanket. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

Frankie checks the note one more time. “Her snacks are on the top shelf of the pantry, tucked behind the cereal that you say tastes like old carpet. I’m going to have to find a new hiding place now. Let her curl up to you, she’s going to fall asleep about 20 minutes into the movie but don’t turn it off, she’ll know if you turn it off.”

He shakes his head and keeps reading. “Take care of her, please. I know you can’t handle seeing her in pain and I’m hoping you won’t have to. I love you, Frankie. Tell her I love her, too.”

He strolls back out to the couch with all the supplies. “Santi says he loves you.”

“You talked to him?”

“No, it was in the note.”

A sharp pain shoots through your back waking you up. You don’t know how you got to bed. You roll towards where Santi sleeps. He’s sitting, reading a book. He’s shirtless and for a second you think you’re dreaming with how good he looks.

His forefinger comes to his lips, signaling for you to stay quiet and then mouths ‘Hi’ at you with a soft smile.

“Hi,” you whisper, your hand coming to the small of your back.

“Bath?” He whispers, leaning forward to try to massage the cramps away.

With a nod of your head he pads to the bathroom. You see him in just loose fitting pajama pants, something about Santi shirtless and barefoot causes your heart to thunder behind your ribs. It’s homey and so domestic, and for a long time you thought he wouldn’t stay. Tonight, he’s once again proved to you and Frankie that he’s doing more than staying.

You sink into the warm water, Santi climbing in behind you. He knows you’re going to get all sleepy and the last thing he needs is for you to drown.

“I missed you. Frankie was so sweet tonight.”

“Ya? Did he follow my instructions?”

“He did. Even the water. I can’t believe I’m that predictable though.”

He chuckles behind you, his soft plush lips meeting your temple. “You’re not. I’m observant and I love you and Frankie. I’m sorry I was delayed tonight.”

“Mmm, it’s ok. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re home.” The water is the perfect temperature and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he used the unscented bubble bath instead of the rose scented one that gave you a migraine last month. Your muscles start to relax, the cramps easing. “Santi?”

“Yes, querida?”

“Thank you for staying with us. A few months ago I wasn’t so sure. I hope you know how much I love you and how much I didn’t know I needed until you came along.”

He runs a soft washcloth up and down your body under the bubbles, addicted to the way you melt into him every time he does it. “I know. I love you, too.”

Frankie stirs awake, something feels wrong as he eyes blink over. He rolls to find the bed empty. He sits up in panic, only the light under the bathroom door calming him.

He usually sleeps naked, so after slipping his boxers on he creeps to the en suite and knocks softly before testing the handle. The door pops open and he shakes his head at you and Santiago in the tub together. There’s no bubbles left and you’re both sleeping soundly. As he dips his hand in the water to pull the plug the water is just slightly above room temperature.

The sound startles Santi, his arms wrap around you protectively as he looks at Fish.

“So worried about her drowning and you’re sound asleep,” he says softly.

“I got her,” he says back.

“I know. I was teasing you.”

“C’mere,” Santi rasps. Frankie, like you, was sound asleep when Santi crept into bed a few hours ago. Fish crouches beside the tub, Santi’s hand comes out of the water to wrap around his boyfriends neck.

“You’re gonna get me all wet, Pope!”

“You’re always wet around me, little puta.” he whispers against his lips and then kisses him passionately.

They’ve been so wrapped up in one another that they haven’t noticed that you’ve woken up. You snort quietly, “He’s got you there, Fish.”

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 19

words: 3,8k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths. Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: it’s been quite some time since I updated right? I feel bad for not posting new chapters, but life is kinda busy. Also some major events are about to happen on the next Birdie chapters and also I think there might be between 10-15 chapters left with everything I have planned. But don’t worry bc a new Gojo fic is coming soon!

materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3

You rolled down the window of Satoru's car and enjoyed the smell of the sea that began to fill your nostrils. You had left Tokyo early that day, so you could get to your destination on time. You had spent the previous night with Satoru so he wouldn't have to pick you up and you could go straight from his apartment.

The traffic wasn't too heavy and your journey was becoming pleasant, while the GPS's voice told Satoru which routes he should take to get there. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be invaded by the sensations, enjoying the warm day at the end of May and the smell of salt water.

“We will be there in 20 minutes.” Satoru broke the silence inside the car, you looked at him and hummed in response. “You mentioned you were raised here right? What was it like?”

“It was…” You started thinking.

Memories of your childhood and teenage years came to you, the hot summers where you went to the beach with your grandmother, the ice creams before returning home. Those distant and almost erased memories with your mother, which you remembered with love and affection.

But not all of them were good memories, because you also remembered the glances, the whispers of people watching you walk and how everything became stronger and stronger with the passing of the years. And you still feel in your bones the worst memory you have of that place, one that you wanted to bury with all your might at the bottom of the sea.

That was why perhaps you wanted to bring the people you loved to that place, because you wanted to flood it with happy and beautiful memories.

“Good…” You simply said. “I can’t wait to show you around.” You smiled at him and he gave you a brief look before smiling back at you.

The car felt silent once again and a feeling started to grow on your chest. As much as you wanted to hide it, you were tense and anxious over that trip, not because Satoru was going there but because of what happened last year.

It made you sick to your stomach and you didn’t want to go through it again. You didn’t want Satoru to met him. To meet your father. You wanted to show Satoru so many things, but the idea of ​​walking and running into him made your hair stand on end.

Your memory drifted to one year ago, when you went with Kyoko.

1 year ago

“Should we buy some ice creams before going back to the motel?” Kyoko suggested as both of you were packing the towels.

“Sounds good.” You said as you closed your bag.

You started walking, Kyoko walking beside you. The two of you chatted animatedly as the hot summer sun hit your skins. You had gotten a few days off and you had decided to spend them with your best friend, in a place that you held dear to your heart. But Kyoko was someone important and deserved to get to know you better.

You walked to the ice cream stand near the beach when you heard a deep voice calling your name. At first, you didn't notice, but a shiver ran through you when you realized who it was, who the owner of that voice was.

You turned slightly and felt a sharp pain in your head, painful enough to make you close your eyes and bring one of your hands to your head.

Kyoko called you out. “Are you okay?” She said with worry.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” But your name came out of his throat once again.

“You okay?”

You snorted and stood up. “What do you want?” You said as dryly as possible, without showing an ounce of emotion.

“I… I saw you and I wanted to check on you.”

You tried not to laugh. “Well, don’t do it.” You turned around and looked at him again. “Come closer again and I’ll call the police, you have a restraining order. Remember it.”

He called you out again. “What happened back then… was a terrible mistake and I’m sorry.” He said and you closed your eyes, trying to shut everything down. “I was desperate for money and I thought…”

“You thought going back to the daughter you abandoned, who was completely alone and take away all her money when she was just 17, was okay?!” You shouted, Kyoko took your hand, trying to calm you down. “And on top of that…” You turned around and looked at him. “You already forgot what you took from me?!”

You looked at him with tears rolling down your face and feeling the curious eyes of everyone around.

Present day

“Birdie…” You felt a small touch on your cheek and the present hit you again.

Your eyes met his, he was looking at you. Like always. But his gaze reflected his worried look. You tried to smile, despite feeling shaken by the memories that just hit your head.

“You okay?” He whispered softly. “You seemed to be drifting away.”

You shook your head and slowly blinked. “Yeah… it was nothing.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Good… we arrived at the hotel…”

You looked outside and yeah, you were there. The door opened and Satoru’s hand appeared in front of you, surprising you on how fast he got himself out of the car.

Satoru took your hand and walked before you and was the one that took care of everything at the hotel. You tried to be there, but honestly your mind felt like it was somewhere else. You found it difficult to concentrate. You had assured Kyoko that your escape would be peaceful, but at that moment your mind was failing you again, filling up with ideas or scenarios that could happen.

Satoru's warm hand gave you a security that you needed but still wasn't enough in that moment of internal despair. You didn’t want to ruin things, no when that was your first time going out as a couple, so you simply put the best of your smiles. And fake it.

Hoping for Satoru not to catch you up on your lie, you made yourselves busy.

“Let’s go to visit the temple that it’s here.” You said with enthusiasm.

You and Satoru walked through the streets that had once been very familiar to you, where you had laughed, cried and been angry. Every corner hid a memory that seemed distant now but that made you smile when you remembered it.

Your feet stopped moving as your body reacted to the place you were in. Satoru turned around, still holding your hand as he watched you.

“Is something wrong?” He murmured as he approached you.

“This was the family home.” You said wistfully. “It still looks the same.”

Satoru didn’t need to do more to put his arms around you. He had noticed your vulnerability in your voice, the sadness that accompanied you as you remembered the place where you grew up, where you lived with your mother, with your grandmother.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be embraced by Satoru’s arms and warm, and trying to calm down your shaken heart.

A little calmer, Satoru took your hand and led you through the streets, as if he already knew them. Before turning the corner you took one last look at what was once your home.

Satoru Gojo pov

Satoru would occasionally turn his head to look at you, your gaze still a bit lost and his heart was in his chest at the sight of that look, he wanted your eyes to smile and shine again. The smell of the sea filled his nostrils and a smile formed on his face when he remembered the day he asked you out.

“Birdie…” He whispered, causing your eyes to meet his. “Shall we go to the beach?”

“But… we didn’t bring our bathing suits, they’re at the hotel.” You said. Satoru smiled.

“I want to walk with you along the shore again like that time…” Your face lit up and began to blush. “Is that look a yes?” You nodded and Satoru laughed and pulled you towards the beach.

The sand burned your feet but that didn't stop Satoru from pulling you closer to the sand. Satoru hadn't wanted to ask you, but he had noticed that even though you had tried to hide it, something was still on your mind and it was something that didn't let you be calm. He wanted whatever was on your mind to disappear and for you to enjoy your moments together.

Satoru enjoyed your laughter as he splashed water on you and watched your face light up. What could he do to keep that smile with him forever? He wanted to cherish that smile, you, what you had, everything.

“‘Toru! Stop!” You laughed.

“Why? It’s funny.” He said with his dimples popping out. “Look at you… so cute.” He hugged you. “My pretty birdie.” He said closing the distance between your faces and kissing your lips.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. “When are you going to tell me why you call me like that?”

“Like what?” Satoru started to play dumb.

“You know what, don’t be silly.”

“Maybe one day…” Satoru kissed your cheek. “But now, let’s have fun okay?”

You continued playing on the beach for a while longer. Satoru kept making you laugh as he splashed you with salt water, not wanting that smile on your face to fade away. When the sun began to shine brightly in the sky, you decided to go to a bar on the coast to eat something and rest.

The bar was small but cozy, with wooden tables and chairs scattered across the sand, offering a perfect view of the ocean. The scent of grilled seafood filled the air as you and Satoru found a spot near the water. The sea breeze felt refreshing against your sun-kissed skin.

“Wait here, alright?” He said standing back up.

“My cocktail, order it with extra ice.” You said and Satoru nodded like an obedient puppy.

You waited on the terrace looking at the sea. The sea breeze moved your hair, which had become slightly wavy due to your entertaining session of playing in the sea. He bit his cheek and looked away from your figure to order your drinks.

“Excuse me?” Satoru heard someone approaching him.

“Yeah?” He looked at the person talking, it was a 50 years old man. “Do I know you?” Satoru asked him.

“No, no, we don’t know each other.” The man said and Satoru could notice his nervous posture and how his eyes moved from one side to the other. “I saw you arrive with that girl over there.” Satoru tensed as the man pointed his finger at you. “And I was wondering if…”

“Who are you?” Satoru asked with a frown.

“Oh… I… I am that girl’s dad.” Satoru clenched his fist.

Your father? Was that the bastard who left your mother when he found out she was pregnant? Satoru took a deep breath, not wanting to rush into anything.

“I was wondering if it would be possible to talk to her…”

“No.” Satoru cut him off.

Satoru’s eyes scanned that man and he noticed how disheveled he was and Satoru couldn't ignore the smell of alcohol that emanated from all over him.

“Why?” Satoru asked, with a cold look, his blue eyes had been replaced by a dark color. A look that made anyone tremble.

“Well she is my daughter and…”

“Answer me and don’t lie to me.” Satoru watched as the man swallowed and wiped his hands against his old pants.

Pathetic.

“I need money okay?” The man blurted. “I know she has savings from her mother and…”

“Enough.” Satoru said. “You want money? That’s the only reason you want to talk to your daughter?” The man felt silent and a laughter escaped Gojo’s lips. “You truly are a disgusting piece of shit.”

“Hey…” But as soon as he saw Satoru’s face, words stood hanging in the air.

Satoru glanced in your direction for a moment, you were concentrating on taking pictures of the view from where you sat, and then his eyes fell back on the man. It was hard to believe that you had his blood on you.

Satoru took the man by the arm and led him to a more secluded spot, one where you wouldn't see them. “Don’t you ever come near her again,” Satoru whispered. “I’ll give you 1,500,000 yen, but if you show your filthy face in front of her again, I’ll see that you end up in prison. Do you understand?” The man gulped and nodded. “Oh, and one more thing, get away from this prefecture and Tokyo, you understand?”

Satoru wasn’t usually this kind of person, making threats. But he knew enough about you and your family to know that you probably wouldn’t want to meet this man, or have him anywhere near you.

The man nodded and wrote down his phone number on a crumpled napkin, which Satoru reluctantly put in his pocket. Before another threat could leave his lips, the man who called himself your father was gone.

Satoru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he really hoped that once that person received the money he would never stand in front of you again. You didn't deserve someone like that with you.

With the tension still on his shoulders, Satoru faked a smile and walked out with your drinks to the terrace where you were waiting for him with that warm look he had discovered.

“Here…” He left your drink in front of you.

“Thank you. It took you time, what happened?”

Satoru didn’t like to lie, not to you at least. “Oh just, just a man making a show.” He cracked a smile.

“Oh…” You nodded and drank a bit of your cocktail. “Oh god!” You closed your eyes. “It’s so sweet.”

“Really?” Satoru asked.

“Yeah… do you wanna taste it?”

“Not really, I’m not a fan of alcohol and besides I’m taking you somewhere later.” He smiled cockily.

You opened your eyes with surprise. “You taking me somewhere?”

“Yeah… I did my research before coming and found a place we could go to see the sunset.” Satoru looked at your eyes and he saw how they started to glow.

“That’s fantastic Satoru.” You smiled.

Satoru smiled back and took a sip of his drink, but his shoulders still felt tense. His gaze occasionally drifted towards the entrance of the bar, a trace of worry in his eyes. He was trying to enjoy the moment, but the thought of your father showing up unexpectedly again and this time you seeing him, was a constant undercurrent of anxiety.

Noticing his uneasiness you decided to address it. “You seem a little strange. Everything okay?”

Satoru managed a casual smile. “Oh yeah, I was just thinking about how unpredictable things can be. But don’t worry about it. I’m here to have a good time with you.”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s focus on having a good time. We have the whole afternoon ahead of us and then you’ll take me to that place right?” You gave him a smile.

With a nod, Satoru took a deep breath and tried to relax. The conversation turned to lighter and more pleasant topics as they both continued to eat and enjoy the beautiful view. Despite the lingering tension, you both managed to savor the day and found comfort in each other's company.

As the two of you continued to enjoy your meal, the atmosphere around you began to feel more relaxed. The sunlight danced across the water, casting a warm glow over everything. Satoru watched your face, which was illuminated by the reflection of the ocean, and took in every feature of yours, admiring how beautiful you were. You and Satoru laughed as you shared stories and chatted happily, the tension from earlier slowly fading from your shoulders.

Satoru could see how the sadness that had been over your eyes that morning had disappeared and now there was only brightness.

The lively atmosphere of the bar added to the feeling of tranquility. Other customers were chatting and enjoying their meals, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses mixed with the rhythm of the waves.

“You know.” Satoru said, leaning back with a contented sigh. “I’m really glad we did this. It’s been a while since I felt this carefree and relaxed.”

You smiled and reached across the table to touch his hand. “Me too.” You patted his hand and he returned the gesture. “You may not want to talk… but what about your parents?” Satoru felt a small pang in his heart and shook his white hair.

“I haven’t talked with them since the party…” Satoru shrugged. “They haven’t called, I haven’t called…” He quickly noticed your gaze. “If you are worried about what happened… don’t worry, I talked with my grandmother and she was worried when she heard what happened, apparently most people at the party started blaming Naoya and days later anonymously someone posted an article on a famous magazine talking about the behavior of one of the Zenin clans younger members…”

“You…?” You gasped with surprise.

“Not me.” He smirked. “You should invite Utahime to drink some beers once we are back.”

“Utahime?” You opened your eyes.

“Yeah, her parents are the owners of the magazine and so she made them put the article… the Iori family doesn’t like the Zenin family too much, so this was their best opportunity.” Satoru explained.

“Wow!” You said with surprise. “So… is it true what they said?” You asked. “That the elite can bring people down if they want to?”

“I guess it is… it’s nasty and dangerous because it could come back to you, but these families have been doing it for years now and they won’t change.” Satoru explained. “But let’s stop talking about them… the sun is almost down so we have to hurry up.” Satoru held your hand.

The two of you walked to Satoru��s car and headed towards your destination. The sun continued to set, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and violet, its warm light reflecting off the sea and casting a golden glow over everything. Satoru’s hands gripped the steering wheel as his eyes remained focused on the road, following the silent instructions of the GPS. You glanced at him from time to time, sensing that something about this trip was important to him.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or will it remain a surprise?” You asked, smiling softly.

Satoru smiled, but kept his gaze straight ahead. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough. I promise it’s worth it.”

The car moved smoothly along the coast, the sound of the waves fading as the road curved inland. With the setting sun casting long shadows across the landscape, everything outside the window seemed to slow down, creating an almost dream-like feeling.

After a while, Satoru’s expression softened. His earlier tension seemed to fade as the familiar sight of the destination came into view. The GPS announced the final turn and you felt the car slow down as you entered a quiet, secluded area surrounded by lush greenery and hills.

Satoru parked the car and turned off the engine. He looked at you, his smile now gentle and sincere. “It’s okay, we’re here.”

You got out of the car, feeling the cool evening breeze on your skin. As you looked around, you noticed a small path leading up a hill. Without saying much, Satoru took your hand and began to lead you along it.

At the top of the hill, a stunning view unfolded before you. The sea stretched endlessly into the distance, the sky now painted in soft pinks and purples. Below, a hidden cove shimmered, its shore empty and quiet. The only sounds were the distant songs of birds and the soft rustle of leaves.

“Satoru…” You murmured, amazed by the view your eyes were seeing. “How? How did you find this place?” You turned to look at him, who was proudly smiling.

Satoru exhaled, feeling proud of himself. “I’m glad you like it. I spent hours online trying to find a place like this.” He joked with a smile.

You turned to him, surprised. “You found this online?”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… Did some digging to find something special near your hometown. Wanted it to feel… personal.”

Your heart warmed at the thought of him spending time looking for such a hidden gem, just to create a moment like this for you. “Satoru, this is... amazing. You didn’t have to….”

He smiled, and softly touched your cheek."You’re worth it…”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop rotating. The gentle breeze, the distant sound of the ocean, and the soft light of the evening all came together to make the moment feel timeless.

“I love you…” He let out his soft yet emotion-filled voice. Your heart raced, feeling like it could explode in your chest. “And I want to cherish you.” He continued, his hand gently brushing yours. “Protect you, be someone you can always count on. I know I’m not perfect, but when I’m with you… I want to be better. For you.”

A gasp escaped your lips and your hands went up to his face. Satoru’s eyes were watery and even if Satoru wanted to hide it he couldn’t. “What’s wrong ‘Toru?” You called him by that affectionate nickname.

Satoru sighed deeply, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Should he tell you? Or just let it go? After all, this was something that involved you directly, something that affected you deeply. But he didn’t want to burden you with it either, he didn’t want to drag negative emotions into this perfect night you were sharing. You seemed so happy, so at peace, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish that with something painful.

Yet at the same time, the idea of ​​keeping something from you didn’t sit well with him. Satoru had always promised himself that he would never hide anything from you, that he would never keep secrets that could build walls between you. He wanted to be open with you about everything, no matter how hard it might be.

You noticed his internal struggle, the way his gaze seemed distant, his body tense beside you. “Satoru?” You asked softly, your thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of his hand. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He swallowed hard, feeling the sincerity in your voice, the trust between the two of you. And that was what made him make the decision: trust. He couldn't break that, not even to spare you the awkwardness. You deserved the truth, even if it was hard to hear.

“At the bar, a man approached me…” Satoru held your hands tightly as he began with his blue eyes fixed on yours.

— if you want to be tagged on the chapters, comment

🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @anniegojo , @milk3evee , @crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi , @olanii1019 , @vtrulvamp , @yjuisu

[villainofmyownstory]

Three copies and some signatures

Simon/Reader/(Johnny)

I don't know I don't have an idea for a title, so I wrote anything. I know some people are waiting for the next part of Day Zero, I'm slowly writing the next chapter but need more time, but don't worry I didn't abandon it! I was motivated to write this thing by anon's shitty ask to @/rememberwren about “too many fics about Ghoap” lmao . So I also wrote something about Ghoap. Because WHY NOT? Aaaaand if you don't know Wren's wonderful work leave everything and go and read it -> HERE <3

I would like to write the next parts, but I can't promise anything.

tags: angst, hurt no comfort

don't know how to tag :< let me know what to add

______________________________________________________________

Of course it had to end this way.

It was more than certain that you would end up in this place eventually. With sweaty hands and a heart that was beating too fast and heavy. Your heart rate increased and your breathing quickened. Drops of sweat appeared every now and then on your heated forehead and you tried again and again to wipe them off. To dry your shiny skin at least for a while. At least look a little presentable.

The crumpled white shirt no longer looked like the one you had ironed for over an hour. Now crumpled and stained, it carelessly hugged your curvy body.

The chair creaked with your every move. Nervously every now and then you change positions as if at least the comfort of sitting would improve your situation.

More minutes pass and the door in front of you is still closed. The paint on them is coming off in some places, revealing the banal light-colored plywood. The entire anturage of this building cries out for renovation.

Despite the well-paid work of the people who work here, the base looks as if its glory years are long behind it and there are no funds to even refresh the walls. It's as if for at least 20 years no one has noticed the cracked walls, the paint falling off or the crooked fine wooden chairs.

Maybe it's just appearances.

You shift in your seat again. The creak of the wooden chair echoes through the empty and cold corridor. Despite the early hour of the day and the sun outside the windows, everything inside seems harsh and unfriendly. To your relief there are not many windows so the prevailing semi-darkness makes you feel marginally more at ease. At least a little anonymity. Maybe the small number of people who passed you walking through the corridor with a quick step won't remember you and when you leave these walls after all, no one will ever shout after you on the street. They won't associate you with this place. With him.

Only when that happens. When this hell will finally come to an end. How long will it be when you are free again? Because every doorbell ringing, every unfamiliar number on screen or finally an unfamiliar customer at work looking at you for too long. It won't all cause that nervousness, that cursed lump in your throat and more gray hairs on your head. Every fucking minute spent in fear.

Someone will finally find out.

Reasons.

Everyone has some. Everyone has a story, some problems, something that makes them look for solutions. The question is whether it was worth it to risk so much. Whether committing a crime was worth it to choose to live here. To continue living in this country.

To be alive.

In the distance you can hear someone's conversation, laughter interspersed with words. Empty corridors carry sounds that ring in your ears, but everything blends into an incomprehensible cacophony of sounds. Into one piece.

You know that resounding, hearty laughter well.

You have heard it many times.

The melody, once heard, is forever imprinted in your memory.

Rhythmically approaching footsteps, voices are getting louder. Two people.

They are close.

The danger makes you feel trapped. Like an injured prey caught in a trap on a hunt.

You nervously look around looking for any way to escape. However, the only way to get out of this place is through this damn corridor, the direction from which you hear the approaching voices.

Panic grips your body and mind, many thoughts appear one second not allowing you to focus and remain rational.

He is about to be right here.

As you involuntarily bite your lower lip and try not to sob, the door finally opens.

A tall and muscular man stands in the doorway, illuminated by the light from the room, like a knight on a white horse with a friendly and affable smile. He greets you and says your name. His name. 

Finally, he invites you inside. This time you managed to escape.

Captain Price. This much you know crossing the threshold of this room. In the morning when two sad gentlemen knocked on your door. You expected to be handcuffed, or something else entirely. Something you were being prepared for.  It could always happen. KIA.

And now, sitting in a more comfortable chair than the ones in the corridor, you look at his Captain. A person you knew a lot about, as well as the entire Task Force 141.

After all, you are a good student. You diligently applied yourself to your lessons. You memorized every word.

Every truth and every prepared lie.

Your made-up life.

The captain leans back in his chair still looking at you, despite the stress of the situation a calmness beats from the man.

You expected accusations, shouting, nervousness and humiliation.

Nothing of the sort happens.

“It's good to finally meet you.”

He says, tilting his head gently to the side and grinning at you.

“When Laswell called me and informed me of the situation. Well. It was quite a shock to me. A positive one. But still... it's quite surprising.”

He doesn't finish the sentence because his words are interrupted by a rhythmic and loud knocking.

Damn.

***

Several hours have passed since those events at the base. Despite the fact that there are a few hours left until nightfall, you decide to spend the night in a nearby hotel and return on the next day, in the early morning.

You didn't even wait for the two gentlemen who brought you here.

You rent a car and return on your own.

You borrowed cash from the captain. The meeting at the base was supposed to be a secret, between you and him. No sign of your presence near the base. You couldn't use your credit card.

Another fucking lie in your life.

Or maybe everything else was untrue and what was happening now was reality. The truth you couldn't quite believe.

It wasn't just the frayed nerves of the situation that made you not want to drive today.

There was something else.

Today is Thursday. A day when when he had the opportunity, he called. He was close by, at a nearby training ground with recruiters. So you can certainly expect weekly contact.

The very thought turns your stomach. It was so ridiculous, infantile.

Unnecessary.

When 9pm strikes, as usual, evenly, punctually the familiar ringtone echoes.

You wait.

One-

Two-

Three.

“Hi”

You sit upright on the edge of the hotel bed, squeezing your thighs tightly together. You straighten your back unnaturally pulling your shoulder blades as close together as possible.

Finally, you hear his low voice.

“Hi love”

Love? Huh, that's something new.

“Hi”

You repeat the greeting in a trembling voice. Does he already know about your unannounced visit to the base. Does he know that his captain has finally found out. What if-

“I miss you, so bad.”

At these words you close your eyes.

There's nothing to worry about. A standard fake conversation between two spouses. In case of eavesdropping, in any doubt. At the risk of someone continuing to check up on you.

“I miss you, too.”

you answer with a learned line. As you do every time.

“I'm counting down the days until I see you again, love”.

You hate it. You hate hearing his words. You shiver. Swallowing the incoming tears.

You're unable to utter another theatrical phrase.

When a lie repeated so many times has become the truth for you. When pretending became a natural behavior. How it happened, that something inside you changed.

So pathetic, weak creature.

For the first time, you can't follow the script.

“ 'r you still there?”

The question hangs in the void. It reaches your ears. Further learned words, however, are blocked inside you.

You open your eyes and your gaze drifts to the floor, to the hotel's dirty carpet. Seconds pass slowly. Each moment makes you feel more and more miserable. You want to throw up.

“I miss you so much, Simon.”

Shit, you're such an idiot.

You quickly hang up, throwing the phone in the sheets and running to the bathroom.

Falling in love wasn't part of the contract.

***

He shouldn't smoke.

He quit exactly when he met you. That September night.

Now, standing behind one of the barracks leaning against a cold wall, he looks up at the same sky. Looking for what you were looking for then.

The sky is dark and cloudy.

“LT?”

He is pulled from his musings by a whisper. Such a familiar voice.

“Where are ya? Come back here, I'll freeze my balls off, if- ”

“I'm comin' , Johnny.”

Crushing the cigarette butt under his military boot, Ghost takes one last look at the sky.

No star. That night he sees none. There's nothing special.

As he enters the room, the small light of the nightstand illuminates the familiar room. When the door slams behind him, in this safe space, he pulls off his mask and walks over to the bed.

Shaking slightly, Johnny sits down on his bed, rubbing his bare shoulders in an effort to warm himself.

“You quit smokin'. ”

A dry statement, Johnny says the words and looks reproachfully at the man standing over him.

Ghost smirks, reaching out his hand to smooth the sergeant's messy hair. Like a tame wild animal. To calm him down. Meticulously styled mohawk was forgotten an hour or two ago.

His hand travels lower to finally stop on the man's jaw and with little force Ghost squeezes his chin, raising it to look him in the eye.

“Behave, Johnny boy.”

“Or what?”

With a cocky grin Johnny asks. He lifts one hand and sticks his fingers in the belt loop of his pants, pulling Ghost closer, so that he's standing between Johnny's legs.

“I don't think you're ready for a second round.”

Finally Ghost pulls away and heads toward the bathroom.

Johnny grunts back.

“I saw her today.”

Ghost stops in mid-step. He stiffens, but doesn't turn toward the man who already regrets his words. There's no going back.

“I want to finally meet her.”

Saying this, he gets up and walks closer. He puts his hand on Ghost's shoulder trying to calm him down. He knows it's too much. Not after what he heard during their weekly conversation.

But a life of lies was destroying him from the inside. He could feel the rot. The stinking evil he felt at every turn. While waking up and falling asleep. It was constantly accompanying him.

No one deserved such cruelty. If he even had to pay for it with his happiness. He would agree without a second thought.

It had gone too far.

“I want to meet your wife, Simon. She needs to know the truth. About all this.”

About us.

______________________________________________________________

English is not my first language, so probably many things are poorly described and the vocabulary is very simple. If you see any mistakes - let me know!

[blue-slxt]

Kinktober 20

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: Let's hear it for more Spider! I was super nervous starting this one, but I'm actually pretty pleased with how it came out. I hope you guys enjoy it! All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Spider x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: Titjob, Edging, Teasing, Oral (M receiving)

“Mmm what’s the matter, Spider? What happened to all that energy you had just a while ago?” you poke at Spider who sat before you full-body trembling and on the verge of hyperventilating. You watch his chiseled jaw clench and relax over and over with every tantalizing, slow slide of your breasts up and down his cock. The tip had grown from a blushing pink color to a furious red, getting darker with each orgasm you had brought him to the verge of and then deprived him of. It drooled precum over your skin, down your tits to your nipples.

Low moans and rambling mutters of need were all he was really able to offer you as a response for the last 25 minutes that you had kept this going. His eyes squeeze shut feeling the bubbling frustration and also the growing ball of lust in his core.

You tsk at him, “You know that won’t do.” And you stop moving making him groan in resentment. All that does is place an amused grin on your face. “If you want me to keep going, you have to look at me.”

It looks almost physically painful for him to peel his eyes open to make them meet yours. Your gaze burned through his and it was as if you could peek directly into his brain and see his most salacious thoughts.

Your hands squeeze your breasts to hug around him tighter and your tongue peeks out to lick at his slit. “That’s better.” His hips jerk up from the stimulation.

“P-Please….ne-need…” his chin is touching his chest and you can see the sweat beading on his forehead.

“What do you need, pretty boy?” your voice is all faux concern.

Just when it looks like he may actually get the words out, you speed up your pace and take the head between your lips and suck on it lightly. Dots start to spot his vision and it’s a true enigma as to how he didn’t spill right then and there. He chokes on a moan and his eyes drift up and back into his head.

“Need…to cum!” He manages to croak out with a crack in his voice that is nothing short of heavenly.

“Fine.” You say looking up at him and snapping his attention to you. “But if you want it, you have to get it yourself.” You say halting your movements again.

He has no problem following your orders and he instantly lets his hips rut up into the space between your tits letting his head fall back.

“Shit, shit, shit…oh, fuck!”

You can feel his cock twitch and jump with every shot of cum that he poured onto your chest and mouth. The sound that’s ripped from his throat is primitive and deep and fuck did it make your panties suddenly feel uncomfortably sticky. His body falls slack and he tries to chase his breath after being completely spent.

“Hope you’re not dead yet, pretty boy. Because I’m about to make up for all those times I wouldn't let you cum.” You say standing and sliding your skirt up your thighs.

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @dixonjunkie

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[weeeeeekly]

quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” and princess, & not edited.

wc: 2.6k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

CHAPTER SEVEN

(extra warning for fear of open water)

The rest of your week consisted of getting to know each of the members on an individual level.

The next day after your heart-to-heart with Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai, you had to head back to work the next day.

“Don’t go.” Kai complains, stretching the “o” out and hugging you tighter to his body.

“I have to. I don’t want to be unemployed.”

Yeonjun takes a sip of water from the doorframe, “Kai, let our love go. I’ll walk you to your car.”

After bargaining with Kai that you’ll hangout with just him tomorrow – and a quick use of the nickname “Hyuka” – you change for work in the bathroom, drink your usual iced matcha latte made by Taehyun, and say your goodbyes with your arm intertwined with Yeonjun’s.

“Thanks for walking me to my car.”

“It’s an excuse to spend alone time with you.”

Both of you get into elevator, Yeonjun tries to push the button, but it’s not working. Yeonjun gives you a forced chuckle as he hits the button again. Nothing. And then the open button for the doors that won’t open.

“You’re joking.” You deadpan as the lights go out in the elevator.

“I’m going to be so late to work.” You shoot a quick text to your boss as Yeonjun presses the emergency call button.

“Should I text the guys that we’re stuck?”

Just as you finish your sentence you hear Beomgyu call out, “I’LL SAVE YOU, OUR LOVE!”

The next 20 minutes is spent with Yeonjun telling you a story from their trainee days as Beomgyu and Kai take turns trying to open the elevator doors like they’re Spider-Man. Once you two are saved by the fire department, Yeonjun still walks you to your car via the apartment’s staircase. You get into your car but before you can close the door, Yeonjun bends down to kiss you on the cheek.

“Have a good day at work.”

Miraculously, you’re only 5 minutes late to work and your boss didn’t even notice.

 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

Wednesday, your favorite day of the week, and your promised day with Kai.

You even make sure to finish our work early so you can leave early to surprise him. You need to get groceries since your fridge and snack corner were getting bare. You hope that Kai won’t think it’s boring and a waste of solo time.

“Any time with you is good!”

The look on Kai’s face makes you want to cry – the look of “As-long-as-we’re-together-I’ll-be-happy” on his angel face makes your knees weak.

“How do you feel about going shopping with me?”

“Let’s go.”

You drive yourself and Kai to the family-owned supermarket that was the greatest thing within the city for the next couple of miles. The next best thing being the airport and the downtown city. You could honestly walk to the store, but you’re not too sure how much you both might buy.

The parking lot isn’t empty, but it’s also not full, so a good amount of people were also grocery shopping. You grab a cart as you open your phone’s notes for your list.

“Grab whatever you need.”

Kai nods as he heads down the aisle as you stop to look for your favorite brand of chips.

Kai can’t believe that he’s doing a mundane task with you again. It takes him back to when you two used to sail to the neighboring island to watch the nurse sharks migrate.

When he looks over to observe you, it’s like you never left. Sure, you don’t look the exact same as you once did, but you’ve kept the same mannerisms and facial expressions. Your manner of speech is almost identical except updated for the current times. Not even the language barrier can bother him or his other soulmates – as long as you stay together with them.

If he puts aside the fact that he’s a member of TXT, and pretends he’s just Huening Kai, it’s like you two are buying groceries as newlyweds for your shared home. The thought of him standing at the altar with his soulmates and looking down the aisle to see you walking towards them.

He needs to sit down.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you look down on him sitting in the middle of the chip aisle.

“Uh, looking for Yeonjun.” He comes up with the excuse as he reaches for a bag of hot fries.

“Good idea. We should surprise them with their favorite snacks.”

The smile on your face as you reach for the bag makes him need to sit down again.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

You power through your tasks at work so you can get home early again to hangout with Beomgyu. As you’re packing up your bag to leave your boss stops you.

“Someone’s in a hurry to leave.”

“Yeah, I’ve got plans with a friend.”

“Oh, a friend.” She winks at you continue packing. “Hopefully this friend can take your mind off ETC.”

“TXT.”

“Right, TXT. See you tomorrow!”

When you arrive at the parking garage, Beomgyu is waiting for you next to your parking spot. When you pull into the spot, you roll down the window to talk to him.

“Um, hey?”

“I want to walk you back.”

“That’s kind of you.”

As you two walk back, hands swinging in almost perfect synchronicity that your hands could touch, Beomgyu holds your hand as he holds the door open for you. Laid out on the table are the snacks purchased yesterday, extra pillows on the couch, and two controllers with the video game’s menu screen ready.

“You played this before?”

“No, I usually play farming games where I can do whatever I want and decorate my character and house.”

“The game is just fighting. Easy to learn.”

The two of you played the video game with Beomgyu winning 4 rounds in a row. You didn’t mind. You got to chill out, eat some snacks, and spend more time with him.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

After heading back to your apartment to sleep, you wake up to Taehyun calling you.

You groggily accept the call, “Hello?”

“Hey, can you get ready in 15 minutes to work out?”

You bolt up from bed, “Yes. See you soon. Bye!”

Hanging up, you rush to your closet to grab the comfiest clothes, the quickest shower ever, change, fill your favorite reuseable water bottle, and greet Taehyun in under 15.

“12… minutes.” You huff out as you try to catch your breath.

“Woah, we haven’t even started working out yet.”

Yeah, because not all of us can be athletically blessed and still look like the reincarnation of a Greek god while doing so.

You force a smile to Taehyun as you stand up. “Let’s just get this workout over with. Please go easy on me.”

“It’ll be an easy workout!”

Easy workout your ass. He made you want to die during stretching, tried to torture you with boxing against him, and made you cuss him out while on the stairmaster.

“I hate this stupid fucking machine.” You glare at Taehyun as he works out.

“It’s not that hard.”

You purse your lips to not make a sexual joke. Honestly, it’s been difficult to not make a multitude of jokes, especially with the fan edits you’ve seen. Many “I bet you are”, “You’re what”, and “I can show you what’s hard” were trapped in your mind.

The rest of the workout wasn’t as terrible since you begged Taehyun to use the remaining time on the treadmill so you could watch videos. You snuck your favorite To Do episode before you two went back to your apartments so you could get ready for work.

You hate to admit it but despite the fire you felt in your legs – you did feel better after working out in the morning. Just slightly.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

You immediately crashed after getting back home from work. You were excited to stay up late and catch up on some tv shows, but the second your head hit the pillow after showering and getting into some cozy pjs, you knocked the fuck out.

You did wake up refreshed the following morning though.

A text notification caught your attention as you were scrolling through your emails.

gc with 6 cuties

            soob 숩 hi do you want to bake with me

            hyuka egg tarts ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

            you i’ll be over in 10

All of these social outings have made you feel like the most popular person on earth. You don’t want to dwell on the thought too much, but this is exactly what you wished for in high school – a group of friends you regularly hung out with. TXT was a friend group you’ve always wished for, but whatever you have with them is more than that. You still can’t wrap your head around how you were reincarnated soulmates, especially since only they held memories of it. It would’ve been a different story if it was vice versa, you wouldn’t have been believed.

Shutting your eyes and breathing out, that doesn’t matter right now. You should be getting ready to bake with Choi Soobin, your friend. Someone that you can confide your thoughts to and feel no judgement. Someone that apologized for not baking cookies for you when he moved in next door.

More than half an hour went by before you knocked on their door. You spent too much time trying to get your hair just right that you gave up before you started crying in frustration. Your outfit was fine, nothing exciting since you couldn’t find the clothes you wanted to wear.

Soobin just smiles at you when he opens the door, dimples on full display. You could write a master’s thesis on how much you love his dimples. Soobin’s whole face in general. When he does the silly one-sided smile to the head tilt with a wink and tongue out.

“Sorry for being late.”

“It’s okay.”

When you walk in, the rest of the guys are out of the apartment. The kitchen counter is full of baking supplies. Soobin ties a pink apron around himself before holding up a matching apron for you.

“Can I?”

You nod as you turn around so he can put the apron on for you. Once he’s done you turn around, “How do I look?”

“Pretty.”

You widen your eyes at him before fixing your glasses, “Thanks.”

“We can bake cookies and egg tarts.”

Soobin baked most of the desserts as you barely served as an assistant. You weren’t complaining as you were too excited to eat the food. You did help measuring the dry ingredients, putting on icing, using the oven, and giving Soobin space in general.

The rest of the guys came home while you two were still baking with Taehyun coming home last when you were letting the desserts cool down. The 6 of you lounge around the living room, eating the desserts when you say the first thought that comes to mind. “I want to be in a pool right now.”

“It’s 10 PM. The pool is closed.”

You sent a smirk to Yeonjun, “So? We can sneak in. We can go after you guys finish eating.”

The next few minutes are spent with everyone quickly scarfing down more desserts before leaving. Kai makes sure to grab some towels. Your little group takes the stairs down to the first floor and take the side door to the apartment complex pool.

Taehyun stops walking, “Wait, we don’t have swim clothes.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, “It’s okay, we don’t need any.”

Taehyun turns to Yeonjun who has his mouth open in shock. Soobin’s ears turn red as Kai stops in his tracks. Beomgyu pushes Kai to keep walking. They don’t want to voice it out loud, but they’re all thinking the same thing.

Are you going to swim naked like they used to in the past.

Once you climb the fence, they hear a splash a few minutes later which causes them to quickly scale the fence.

You’re standing in the shallow end as you wave at them to get in. As they approach the pool ledge, you swim over to them and push yourself up to sit on the ledge. They notice that your clothes are sticking to your figure causing inappropriate thoughts to flood their mind yet again.

You look at Yeonjun as his ears turn red.

“Are you blushing?”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

You giggle as you tease him and the way your nose scrunches up causes his heart to flip like before. If he squints his eyes – it’s almost like you never left on that damn ship.

Beomgyu goes to pretend to push Yeonjun in, but Yeonjun moves at the last minute and makes him accidentally push you in.

You let out a surprised gasp as you go underwater. When you resurface, your glasses are missing.

“Oh no, my glasses!”

Beomgyu face drops, confusion written on your face as you look around the dimly lit pool.

“I’m so sorry, love. Soobin will help you find them.”

“W-what?” Soobin steps backwards away from the group, shaking his head in protest.

“Just shine your phone flashlight.”

Soobin carefully walks toward the ledge, death gripping his phone. You dive under the water again and resurface with a frown.

In a fraction of a second, Kai rips Soobin’s phone out of his hand as you pull Soobin’s ankle toward you, making him fall in.

Once underwater, you open your eyes to look at Soobin, but even with your shitty vision and the blurriness from the water, you know something is wrong. You reach your hands out to pull Soobin above water.

Even with both of your feet touching the floor, Soobin starts freaking out. He clings to you as you look over to the guys with confusion clearly written on your face.

Soobin keeps muttering something as you try to make sense of what he’s saying.

“It’s my fault.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Soobin, look at me. You’re okay.”

You hold Soobin’s face as he finally makes eye contact with you and regulates his breathing.

“You’re okay. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.”

“You.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s get you out of the pool.”

Taehyun gets into the pool and helps you walk Soobin out to sit him down in a lounge chair. You sit down next to him as Yeonjun drapes a towel over his shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask as he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. We should head back to our apartment before we get in trouble.”

“HEY!”

All of your heads comically whip in the direction of the stranger’s shout only to see one of the complex’s security guards waving a flashlight from across the pool, on the other side of the fence.

“Oh shit.”

The 6 of you start running to the door and run up the flight of stairs not stopping until Yeonjun locks the door of their apartment behind you.

“Dammit. I left my glasses in the pool.”

masterlist | previous | next

author's note i drove myself to panera to write this chapter out in an effort to be productive. i'm posting this from panera!! yeah, i definitely cannot keep up a consistent schedule for updating. my bad y'all. i should have just waited until i wrote out the entire story before posting.

[pep-rambles]

Okay Here it is

Yup it's my stupid fluffy Valentine's day Huskerdust fic. Not my favorite thing I've written but I literally did it in a day.

As promised with 10 mins to spare. Here is the A03 link if you'd rather read it there or see the tags or whatever. https://archiveofourown.org/works/53805574

It was on the edge of midnight when Angel Dust finally made it back to the hotel. A full day of back to back clients. Sometimes causing Angel to run halfway across the city in heels and 20 minutes or less because Valentino couldn't schedule for shit. 

Valentine's day: sex workers’ black Friday. Even if you were already dead. 

All things considered, it usually wasn't the worst day aside from it being so busy, at least Angel didn't have to deal with Valentino directly. But this year, there was somewhere else he'd rather be. Someone else he'd rather be with. 

Angel pushed through the doors of the hotel. The lobby was dim, most of the lights were off as most of the residents had gone to bed by now. The light of the bar on the other end of the lobby, highlighting the handsome bartender Angel wished he could have spent his day with. 

“Heeey Husky.” Angel murmured, sliding onto a bar stool and laying his head down on one of his forearms but still glancing up lovingly at his, dare he say it, boyfriend. The two men had only been officially dating for a couple weeks now but they had been good friends for months, and Angel can't even recall how long he'd been pining for the old cat. He could hardly believe they were actually an item.

Husker took a second of Angel's hands in his, Angel helping him to lace their fingers together. “Rough day?” Husk asked, laying a soft kiss on the top of Angel's hand. A gesture that made Angel blush. 

“Eh I've had worse” the spider shrugged and sat up. “I'm fine really. Just a bit sore as always.” He reassured his partner as he checked him over for bruises. This had been part of their routine for almost as long as they had been friends, Husk had well over stocked his first aid kit since. 

“I sure missed you though.” Angel said flirtatiously before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on Husker’s forehead. 

Husk chuckled. “Somebody missed you too.” He smirked as he opened the door to the bar and a little demon pig ran out.

“Nuggs!” Angel said excitedly as he leaned down to pick up the piglet. He scooped up Fat Nuggets with his lower set of arms and began fussing him with his upper set. “Hey there Nuggies! Did ya miss me? Did ya miss me? Did ya miss your papa? I bet ya did? Were ya a good boy for Husky?” 

As Angel Dust continued to coo over his pet and pepper him with kisses, Husk looked over at the two of them with a smile. He wasn’t the least bit jealous that the pig was getting more attention than he was. He found the whole scene to be incredibly adorable and endearing. 

“So, the usual?” Husk asked Angel once he had calmed down a bit with fussing Nuggets.

“Sure thing Husky.” Angel said, running a hand through his hair. As Husk prepared his drink Angel took out his phone and checked the time. “Just two more minutes of Valentine’s Day left, glad we’re spending it together.”

Husk paused as he was pouring Angel’s drink out. “Wait, it's Valentine’s day?” He asked, looking up at his Angel in shock.

“Wait, ya didn’t realize that?” Angel asked, surprised.

“I don’t know man you know I’m not into all that sappy bullshit. How’s one supposed to keep track of time down here anyway.” The bartender waved him off.

“Oh Husky!” Angel laughed, gently setting Fat Nuggets down on the floor before leaning in to kiss the now furrowed face of his beloved. “Well happy Valentine’s anyway, kitty.” Angel said sweetly smoothing back the fur on Husker’s head. Husk grumbled at the nickname but smiled anyway.

Angel sat back down on the bar stool. The two held hands as Angel nursed his drink. Not talking much, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

A few minutes passed before Angel Dust spoke up again. “Well, it may be a the fifteenth now we can still do somethin’ together.” He smiled as he clasped all four hands around one of his partner’s own. “Wanna come over to my room?” Then added. “I mean just ta, like, cuddle and watch tv or talk or somethin’.”

Husk smiled and added his second hand to the pile of the five others. “Sure.” He said. “I could bring some snacks. Charlie and Vaggie made cookies I think.” 

“Sounds good!” Angel replied. “Give me about 30 mins or so ta shower slip into something more comfortable, ‘kay?” He gave Husk another kiss before scooping up Nuggets and heading up to his bedroom.

------

There was a knock on Angel's door just about the time he got out of the shower. 

“Be right there.” Angel called as he slipped a large t-shirt over his head. 

When he opened the door there stood Husk dressed down to just a pair of pajama pants and carrying a significant amount of food in just his two arms. Three bags of chips, a handful of cookies each individually wrapped, and a bottle of soda in each hand and the box of Angel's favorite popsicles.

“Babe!” Angel couldn't help but laugh a little. “Ya could've asked for my help.”

“I got it,” Husk grumbled.

“Sure ya do Husky.” Angel smiled as he scooped up the snacks in his four arms. And walked over to set them down at the little set up he had made for the two of them. (Well three, as Fat Nuggets would most definitely be snuggling up with them.) A pile of blankets and pillows. In the center of the pile, facing the television. was a cushion with arms that Cheri had jokingly called his “husband” which Angel sat down in front of, Husk joining him shortly after setting down the soda bottles in front of them. And leaning back.

“Soooo, ya like my husband?” Angel teased leaning into Husk. 

“YOUR WHAT?!” 

Angel laughed, running one of his arms along one of the arms of the cushion. “Ya, know because he's always holding me in his arms?” 

“Hmph” Husk smirked as he wrapped his lover up in a tight hug. Angel leaned back against Husk's shoulder raising a hand to his cheek pulling him in. 

The two men kissed softly for a few moments. Until Angel felt something bump against his lower set of arms. Looking down he saw Fat Nuggets nudging his way into his lap. Both men laughed as Angel scooped up the tiny demon pig. 

With one hand holding Nuggs, a second scratching behind his ears, a third entwined with Husk's, and a fourth grabbing a cookie from the pile of snacks. 

Angel looked at the various pink and red frosted frosted sugar cookie hearts. He smirked as he stopped fussing Nuggs for a moment to unwrap one of the red hearts. “So the ladies made these little heart cookies and ya didn't even realize it was Valentine’s day?” 

Husk grumbled, “I don't know. Like I said I can't keep track of time anymore. And all that sugary mushy shit is just Charlie on any other day.”

“Fair enough.” Angel said as he took a bite of the cookie. He reached down and grabbed the remote. He turned the TV on but kept the volume low. “So, how was your day then?”

“Pretty dull. I wondered why Charlie hadn’t planned any activities. Now I guess it makes sense.” Husk laughed.

Angel listened intently as he flipped through the channels not really paying attention there was nothing but junk at 1 am in Hell. Or at any hour in Hell. 

Angel and Husk talked and snacked well into the night.  At one point Husk gave Angel a back rub. Angel had forgotten how stiff he was until he felt the bartender’s strong fingers kneading into his skin. Slowly throughout the night Angel began to sink further and further into Husker’s lap. With Husk leaning back more against the cushion.

Angel looked up at Husk talking about some occurrence at his casino from back in his overlord days. He couldn’t help but notice how Husk looked at him with a face that said he held the stars in his heart. Angel Dust had seen dozens of Valentines Days when he was alive, and almost three times as many since he died, but he never imagined he’d actually ever have one that was worth remembering. One where he spent it with a man who didn’t care that he was without make-up and just in boxers and a ratty old t-shirt, or that he had just stuffed his face with junk food, or that there were probably crumbs of said junk food still lingering on his clothing. A man who didn’t seem to mind when Angel paid more attention to the tiny demon pig now sleeping in his lap. A man who saw Angel as someone magnificent, not just something to be used and discarded.

Angel reached a hand up to touch Husk’s cheek softly. 

“Hey… what’s up?” Husk leaned into the touch as he reached his own hand up to gently touch Angel’s.

“Nothin’” Angel replied trying to hide the tears he felt welling up behind his eyes “I’m just happy” He smiled. “Happy belated Valentine’s, Husky.”

“Yeah, uh…” Husk coughed and blushed, not used to such sappy sentiments. “Y-you too.”

“Hey Husky?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think the popsicles’ve probably melted.”

Husk looked surprised for a moment before both of them laughed and embraced each other. P.S. This is a husband:

The term husband is something my friends came up with in college and I want to try and make it a real thing.

[pedrospatch]

weakness l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Back in the Boston QZ, you confront Joel about what happened at Bill and Frank’s place.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s) two idiots who have feelings for each other, one idiot is in denial, Joel is kind of an asshole, confrontation, confessions. little bit of backstory on how they met, very brief mention of attempted SA. SMUT. reader loses her virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (practice safe sex, pls and thank you), post sex cuddles (ish) and more feelings.

word count: 6k

You splash several handfuls of warm water onto your face and scrub, making sure to be as thorough as possible as you rinse off all the suds from the cleansing soap that you’d used to wash the makeup off your face. You had also changed out of the dress that Frank had you wear for his special lunch earlier that afternoon and back into a much more appropriate outfit for your pending return to the Boston QZ with Joel—as always, Frank had kindly encouraged you to take a peek through a number of cardboard boxes full of women’s clothing in your size that he’d collected from the boutique and insisted that you go on and help yourself to whatever your heart desired out of them.

 After plucking a pair of dark wash blue jeans from one box, a long sleeved olive green blouse from another box, and a matching, white lace underwear set from a third box, you’d gone into the bathroom and started making the transition back to your usual appearance, minus the dirt and the grime for the time being.

There’s a part of you that’s relieved to see yourself looking a lot more—well, looking a lot more like yourself. On the other hand, there was another part of you that almost grieved the short lived feeling of what it had been like to look like a normal woman. Perhaps that’s the reason why, instead of putting your hair back into its usual braid, you decide to leave it down, loose around your shoulders.

“I told you it suited you,” Frank states with a little grin. Affectionately, he runs his fingers through it one more time before pulling you into his arms for a warm hug. “Thank you for coming over for lunch..”

After you and Joel had said your thank you and goodbyes to Bill and Frank, you started the journey back home. Not that the QZ was really a place that you wanted to consider home, but it was where you had spent the better part of the last six years. The truth was, you couldn’t stand living in the Boston QZ, but it was probably the closest thing to a home you’d ever have again.

 And it only felt like that because of Joel.

He’d crossed your path when you first arrived in Boston after Providence had been overrun with infected. Like most of the other survivors, you had found yourself in Boston, as it was the closest operating QZ and only about fifty miles away. It was a rougher crowd in Boston than in Providence and you’d found that out the hard way on your third night there when you’d been walking back to your quarters after that day’s work assignment had run late into the evening.

You had been trying to get to where you needed to be before it went past the set curfew hour and you remembered being so preoccupied with trying to avoid a disciplinary lockup that you hadn’t noticed the two goons who had been following you from the work site.

It happened in the blink of an eye—one minute you were walking and the next you’d been shoved into some empty alleyway. They roughed you up, and although you had tried to fight back, you ended up being overpowered and found yourself pinned down to the ground on your back by one of the assailants; meanwhile, his partner in crime eagerly unbuckled his belt and reached for the button of your jeans. Before it could go any further than that, the sound of a much older man’s deep voice threatening the promise of two broken jaws sent them running into the darkness as fast as their trembling legs could carry them.

That was the night you’d met Joel Miller. 

The one man in the zone that nobody in their right mind would ever dare fuck around with.

He’d scolded you for being stupid enough to walk the streets alone so close to curfew hour and then took you back to his apartment where he’d cleaned up all of the cuts and scrapes on your face with a torn, cotton blue handkerchief and some cheap whiskey. The two of you hadn’t been apart from each other since that night for longer than a day, if that.

So, the bottom line was that Boston wasn’t home. It never was home, and probably never would be.

It was Joel. He was home. 

It didn’t matter where you laid your head to sleep at night. Whether it was on a clean pillow in Lincoln or on that old, shoddy mattress that you’d noticed was starting to sprout bits off fluff through open tears in Boston—hell, you could lay your head down in the dirt at night and as long as Joel was there by your side, you wouldn’t give a single shit about it.

Gripping the straps of your  hundred liter pack, you glance up at Joel, your eyes meeting his own pack that he carried on his back. For a majority of the walk back, he’d stayed at least a few steps ahead in front of you. He hadn’t really said much of anything to you since your shared kiss in the middle of Bill and Frank’s living room.

Somehow, even several hours later, the feeling of his lips on yours still linger and you had to wonder, did Joel feel the same? Was it on his mind too? Or was he trying to forget that it ever even happened now that you two were heading back into the cold, hard reality of living in the QZ?

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that it wouldn’t devastate you if that were actually the case.

The two of you make it back just after nightfall. You and Joel sneak past the authorities and despite the fact that it was well after FEDRA curfew hour and the zone is crawling with guards on night patrol, you manage to make it all the way back to your shared apartment without being caught. Being thrown in lockup would have put quite the fucking damper on what had otherwise been one of the most decent days that you’d had in a while.

Joel’s silence towards you holds on pretty strong as he shoves his way through the front door, dropping his heavy pack with a loud thud on the floor. He stalks over to the couch and drops down onto it; his legs and feet are aching from the long, nearly five hour trek back to the QZ. Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans his head back and then closes  his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath of recovery he takes.

Taking off your own pack from your shoulders, you set it down beside his, and then walk over towards the couch too. However, instead of joining him as you usually did, you stand in front of it—in front of him, and although his eyes are still closed, you know damn well he can sense you standing there. 

And yet, he refuses to acknowledge you.

Shuffling your weight from one foot to the other, you wrack your brain in search of something, anything to say—though you know he’s exhausted, it’s still incredibly obvious that there’s a tension that lingers over the both of you. In reality, it had followed you and Joel the entire way back from Lincoln, but at least out in the open, it hadn’t seemed that bad. Now that you were back in the apartment and confined to such close quarters together, it could be sliced with a fucking machete. 

Finally, you speak, saying his name softly. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” comes his reply, his head still resting back on the couch.

“We should—um, we should probably talk.”

His eyes snap open, but he fixes them on the crumbling ceiling of the apartment. “Talk ‘bout what?”

“About the fucking weather outside,” you answer, flatly.

Joel lifts his head from the couch, raising an eyebrow at you. “Oh, is someone feelin’ like being a smartass tonight?”

You sigh irritably. You should have known better than to think Joel would actually make this easy for you. “Listen, about what happened back at Bill and Frank’s house earlier today—”

He’s quick, too quick, to cut you off. “It was nothin’.”

You feel your heart drop down deep into the pits of your stomach. “It was nothing?” you repeat after him, wondering if you’d looked just as stunned as you had sounded. “Really, Joel? It was nothing?”

Joel gives you a subtle, but curt nod. “We both know it was nothin’ at all. Best we just forget about it. Pretend like it never happened.” He stands up from the couch and kicks off his worn, faded leather boots. “S’real late. We should probably get to bed.” He brushes past you and starts towards the bedroom.

You spin around on your heel, and while your words are gentle, they hit him in the back like a ton of fucking bricks. “It wasn’t nothing to me, Joel.”

He halts abruptly in his tracks and freezes, his wide shoulders squaring.

“And you know what, I don’t think it was nothing to you either.”

Slowly, Joel pivots on his heel and turns around to face you. “You listen here. I ain’t exactly too sure where you went off and found the fuckin’ balls to even think you can speak for me, but I’m gonna need you to go put ‘em the fuck back right now or else we’re gonna have a problem, darlin’. That understood?”

A chill runs up the length of your spine. Though he keeps his voice calm, there’s slight, dangerous edge to his tone that almost makes you back down—somehow, you will yourself to stand your ground. “You said it to me yourself, Joel.” You lift your chin slightly. “Earlier in Lincoln. You said you don’t want a life without me. Remember that?”

Joel’s jaw clenches.

He couldn’t deny the exact words that had come out of his own goddamn mouth, now could he?

You take a careful step towards him. “Am I your weakness, Joel?”

Instantly, he drops his eyes away from yours, his voice lowering as he asks you, “Now where the hell would you get an idea like that?”

“Frank told me—” You stop  as he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “He did, Joel. He said that I’m your weakness.”

“Did he now?” Joel’s eyes are now on the floor.

He can’t even look at you.

“Yeah. He did.” You take another step forward, and then another. And even when you stand right in front of him, your body just mere inches away from his, he forces himself to keep from meeting your gaze. “Joel?”

He stiffly shakes his head. “Don’t,” he utters through tight lips. 

You try again. “Joel?” Knowing he would be too stubborn to give in, you bend slightly at your knees, crouching down in front of him just a few inches or so, low enough to place yourself into his view. You then slide your index finger underneath his chin and lift it, forcing him to look at you as you draw yourself back up to your normal height. Your expression softens once you see the battle he’s fighting behind those tortured dark brown eyes of his. “Just tell me the truth, Joel. Please,” you beg him, softly. “Am I your weakness?”

Joel reaches up with his hand, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. He tears your hand away from his face and holds it down at your side, but doesn’t let it go. “Why the fuck are you askin’ me that? Huh?”

“Because,” you reply, the gentle tone of your voice causing his grip around your wrist to tighten. “You sure as hell are mine.”

Your eyes glaze over his parted lips, and before you can even think about making another move, Joel releases your wrist and both of his hands fly to either side of your face as he brings his mouth down to meet yours. Just like back in Lincoln, you thought he would attack you, devastate and ruin your lips with his—though he kisses you with fervency, you can feel that he’s being careful, almost as if he were afraid he would break you into pieces if he became too rough with you. You almost want to speak, let him know that there was no need for him to hold back, but you’re too preoccupied, far too busy getting yourself lost in the taste of him.  

Desperate to be even closer to him, your arms find their way around his neck and you close the remaining gap of space between the two of you by pressing your body flush against his.

This causes Joel to suddenly break away from you, your name falling from his lips in the most delicious way you’d never heard before.

“What?” you question him, breathlessly.

When he says nothing back to you, you take a step backwards, away from him, and lift your hands to the buttons of your blouse. Slowly, almost seductively, you undo the first top button and then move on to undo the second one. When the third one comes undone, you use your index finger to move the material of your blouse aside, revealing your bra underneath—the white lace sits delicately on the soft curve of your breast, igniting a blazing fire deep in Joel’s lower belly.

Though he longs to let you finish so he can see more of you, Joel catches both of your hands in one of his halfway down, stopping you from going further. “Don’t,” he warns you, his voice strained, hoarse. “Don’t go doin’ somethin’ you’ll regret, darlin’.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him the most innocent, angelic look he’d ever seen in his entire fucking life. “You think I’ll regret this?”

Joel can only nod helplessly at you as you tug your hands out of his and turn your attention to his shirt instead. His breath audibly catches in his throat as your fingers start working on the buttons of his brown plaid flannel. Heart hammering painfully in his chest, he looks down at you as your hands move on from one button to the next. He’s become borderline intoxicated by the sweet, sweet scent of whatever shampoo you’d used back in Lincoln to wash your hair, and it’s causing him to lose his grasp on what very little common sense he has left.

Joel feels the heat flood to his face when you push his shirt off of his shoulders and take a long moment to admire his form. Sure, his physique may not have been what it used to be now that he was in his fifties in comparison to his younger days, but he’s still in decent shape. His upper body isn’t ridiculously built or muscular, but thanks to hours of physical labor in the QZ, he still had this broadness to him—Joel’s back, his shoulders, and his arms, fucking hell, those arms of his that you could just melt right into, arms that you would feel so safe in, no matter what.

Your eyes drink him in, and you find yourself memorizing every last distinguishing mark on his upper body. You make a mental note of every single freckle you see, of each and every one of the battle scars that he possesses and commit them to memory. You were certain that most of Joel’s scars had come from this life, but you had to wonder if any of them had come from his past life. His first life.

“I ain’t a pretty sight,” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Joel replies without missing a beat. He inhales sharply as you reach out and place the palm of your hand on his chest.

You can feel his heart slamming against his chest wall right against your hand. “Your heart is beating so fast,” you whisper. You step towards him and gingerly press your lips against his neck, causing him to draw another sharp breath of air.

Unable to fight his desire to touch you any longer, Joel reaches out to finish undoing the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He discards it on the floor along with his own shirt in one quick, swift movement.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as soon as his hands met your bare skin.

The contrast of his roughness and your softness just about drove him wild. He leans down, claiming your mouth with his once again, and although he tries to keep himself from being too rough with you, Joel can’t help how hungry his kisses are—he almost feels as if he’s a starving man who hadn’t had single crumb to eat in weeks, and you’re a three course meal that had miraculously fallen into his hands. He wants to devour you, and yet, Joel uses every ounce of strength he has in him to show at least a little bit of restraint. He knows you aren’t delicate, but he fears that if he isn’t careful, you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands much like a doll made of porcelain.

His teeth lightly nip at your bottom lip, his silent demand for more and you give it to him. He slides his hands up and down your sides, and while his touch is doing inexplicable things to your body that feel so fucking foreign, it also feels so fucking good. And you want more. 

So, so much more.

Joel groans into your mouth as you rake your fingernails down the front of his bare chest. “Baby.”

Your heart skips an eager beat.

Never in this lifetime did you think Joel Miller would call you that. But then again, never in this lifetime did you think you two would ever be in this position. Half naked, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

“Baby.” He says it again, pulling away slightly.

“What’s the matter?”

“If we don’t stop right now—” Joel trails off mid-sentence, letting his two hands continue to roam and explore your upper body. He finds it in himself, finally, to push the delicate straps of white lace down your arms; you decide to lend him a hand and reach around your back to unhook the lingerie, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the stained linoleum floor. Pulling you flush against his chest, Joel groans again and then tears his lips from yours, moving them down to the sensitive flesh of your neck.

As he does  so, you start to guide him backwards towards the bedroom.

“Careful,” Joel mumbles against your skin, causing you to exhale a tiny, breathless little laugh.

Somehow, even with his arms wrapped around you and his lips fused to your neck, the both of you manage to get around the wide, single wall that divides the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. As Joel feels the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress—the very same mattress that you two had been sharing for the last few years—he lets out an odd noise, something in between a groan and a sharp exhale of breath. He snakes an arm around your waist and turns you so that he’s able to carefully lay you back onto the mattress. He follows in suit and crawls on top of you, his body hovering over yours.

“It ain’t too late, you know.” Joel pauses and brings a hand to your face. He brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes and tucks it behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek as he does so. “It ain’t too late to stop.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to stop?”

“Yes.”

Your heart sinks. “You want to stop?”

“No.”

A puzzled expression crosses your features. “But you just said—”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even fuckin’ know.” He closes his eyes, furiously shaking his head.

“Joel. Look at me.”

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Joel obliges. His pools of intense, dark brown swim with an array of different emotions, from lust and desire to concern and fear. “Things won’t be the same,” he tells you, shaking his head again. “We cross this line and there’s no goin’ back for us, do you understand that, darlin’?”

You chew nervously on your lower lip. Your hand is at the back of his head, your fingers anxiously toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. Of course you knew that there was no going back—but hell, you didn’t want to go back, not if it was to a time where you went about your days thinking that you meant nothing to Joel Miller. Not to a time where you didn’t know what it was like to be kissed by him, or to be touched by him.

Finally, you will yourself to reply to him.

“Is it shitty of me to say that I don’t care that we’re crossing a line we can’t come back from?” you ask, quietly. “It doesn’t fucking matter to me, Joel. I want this and I can tell that you do too.” The same hand that had been in his hair moves to the side of his face. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Losin’ you.”

You honestly hadn’t thought that he would actually give you a reply, at least not one that contained the truth, so when he does, it takes you completely by surprise.

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, though you know better than to make a promise you weren’t absolutely certain you could keep in a world like this one. Joel had lost people, you had lost people, but you would do everything and anything that you could possibly do to keep from losing each other. “It’s like I told you in Lincoln, okay? We are in this together. I’ll never leave your side, Joel. Never.”

“But—”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Joel leans down, letting his forehead rest against yours. “I want to. I want to believe you, I swear it. More than anythin’ in this world, I want to believe you. But my mind is sayin’ there’s just no fuckin’ way.”

You delicately touch your fingers to his chest, feeling his heartbeat again. “What about this, what does this say? This thing in here that I can feel racing against my fingertips as we speak?”

“It’s tellin’ me to make you mine.”

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you tilt your face up towards his for another kiss. This kiss is different from any of the others you two had shared that day.

No, this kiss was softer, it was tender—sweet like honey.

Loving, even.

“Then do it,” you encourage against his lips. “Make me yours.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

“I do. More than anything, Joel.”

With your reassurance, he finally releases any hesitations he had, and Joel gives you a subtle nod of his head, one you almost didn’t catch.

He gingerly pushes you back onto the mattress and kisses you lightly on the lips one more time before he begins to trail his way down your neck. He continues to move down your chest and stomach, and as his nose skims against your skin with each kiss, Joel can still detect a hint of soap from your shower earlier that afternoon. As soon as he reaches your waist, his hands reach for the button and zipper of your jeans, undoing them both with ease. He lifts himself up on his knees, silently beckoning for you to lift up your hips so he can slide your jeans down your legs. You’d never been more grateful that you’d chosen a pair of pretty lace underwear instead of the usual cotton shit that you wore.

Joel hooks his index finger underneath the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down your legs as well before tossing them aside. He lets his eyes lock themselves on every part of you, his burning desire for you only fueled by everything that he sees.

Much to your own surprise, you aren’t all too shy. There you are, lying before him completely bare—Joel can see everything, but you cannot possibly care less about any freckles, any stretch marks, any scars, or any other so-called imperfections on your body.

He’d let you see him—now you were letting him see you.

Joel would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this—thought about you like this. He had often tried his best to keep those thoughts at bay considering how much older he was than yourself, but fuck, he could never deny the fact that you were the prettiest damn thing he’d laid his eyes on since the world had gone to shit. Joel often imagined that every inch of you was nothing short of perfection and hell, he’d been right. He brings himself back down over you and lets his mouth make its way back down your body.

“Joel.”

The sound of your voice as you say his name is unrecognizable, to both you and to him. 

It’s low, husky, and like sweet music to his ears.

“What is it, baby?” He asks you as he stops right in between your legs. He glances up at you for a brief moment. His gaze meets yours, as if looking for permission to proceed. The instant he receives your nod of approval, Joel starts to plant another trail of burning kisses along the inside of your thighs, going back and forth from one to the other.

His beard scratches the delicate skin there as he carries on, moving slower and slower the further he goes up your legs in an effort to get your anticipation built up. You only find this agonizing and you’re just about ready to lose your goddamn mind. The moment you open up your mouth to tell him to cut it out with all of the teasing, Joel dips his head, his mouth finally moving to the apex of your thighs.

You gasp out his name, your back involuntarily arching off the bed.

Joel moans into you—something about how he just knew you would taste so fucking sweet—and lets his tongue swirl around your arousal, eliciting the most heavenly noises from you. He switches off between using long, firm strokes of his tongue over your clit and taking you into his mouth, his chosen technique causing your hips to buck upwards, asking for more. He hums against your cunt and lifts his arm, draping it across your hips to hold you down in place. The sounds escaping you, every curse word, every whimper, every little cry of pleasure, bounce off of the paper thin walls of the apartment.

Even though you’re certain your neighbors are getting an earful, the truth was that you couldn’t give two shits as to who heard you or not. Hell, there was a woman a few doors down the hallway who often threw suggestive glances at Joel when she saw him and you can only pray to the heavens above that she can hear what he’s doing to you.

You feel the beginning of an orgasm coiling up inside of you in your lower belly. It’s tightly wound, mere moments away from snapping and springing forward. With no sheets on the mattress for you to grasp, you clenched at air, trying your best to fight it in a futile attempt to draw the pleasure out for as long as you can. You never want this to end. Joel didn’t get the memo and he keeps on at it, and before long, his lips and tongue send you tumbling over the edge.

As you cry out his name over and over again, his mouth continues to keep at it slowly, helping you ride out the high of your orgasm. Once the sensation of the intense climax begins to subside, you drop your head back down onto the mattress and focus on trying to catch your breath.

Joel looks up at you and forces  himself to bite back his groan.

It’s  dim in the room, but the moonlight that filters in through the window illuminates what had to be the most stunning sight he’d ever fucking seen. Your hair wild, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth plump, swollen from his kisses.

Joel pulls himself back up to you. His mouth meets yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. He then lets his thumb graze over your bottom lip, asking you, “You alright?”

“Just a bit breathless is all.” Suddenly, it dawns at you—what comes next. Up until this moment you had been fine, and now, your nerves feel like they had been lit on fucking fire. You swallow harshly, knowing you had to tell him. “Joel?”

Sensing the sudden shift, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

 “Joel, I’ve never—the thing is, I’ve never—”

You stop, clamping your mouth shut, unable to say it out loud.

It takes  him a second or two, but he finally understands.

You’ve  never been with a man before. 

Not like that. Not like this.

“As much as I want you, we don’t have to go any further than this,” Joel assures you, his nose skimming lightly against your cheek. “You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, darlin’. No questions asked.”

And you believe him.

You know he would only take what you were willing to give him.

At this point, you were willing to give him everything.

Your hand reaches down between your bodies, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. “I don’t want to stop,” you tell him. “I really don’t.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you—?”

“Damn it, Joel! I said what I fucking said, now can you please get rid of these? Or am I going to have to do it for you?”

Joel drops his face into the crook of your neck for a second, letting out something mixed between a scoff and a chuckle before he finally obliges to your request.

He stands up from the mattress just long enough to unbuckle his old, worn out leather belt—he then unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off before climbing back over you.

You place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you.

As you do, you feel his hard, thick cock brush against the inside of your thigh.

 “Joel,” you gasp out his name, wetness pooling between your legs all over again.

“Askin’ you one last time, sweetheart.” Joel’s mouth ghosts over yours. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” You hope you don’t sound as desperate as you’re beginning to feel. “Please, Joel. I want you.”

You couldn’t have been anymore sure that this was what you wanted.

Still, that didn’t exactly stop the wave of apprehension from washing over you as you felt him settle himself between your thighs and against your entrance. Joel must have sensed your nervousness, because he pauses, pressing his lips against your forehead. He lets them linger for a moment, as if silently reassuring you that he would take it easy. He pushes himself inside of you, slowing down the further he goes. It hurts, at first. It’s a sharp feeling of discomfort unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Painful. You can’t help the small cry that escapes you, causing Joel to abruptly stop his movement. 

“Relax, baby,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He laces his fingers together with yours and gives it a gentle squeeze. He remains still as he waits, willing his body to listen to yours before picking up where he left off.

It takes you a minute to adjust to him, and while the discomfort doesn’t completely go away, a new sensation joins in, one of searing heat and the sudden urge to feel more of him.

Joel’s opposite hand is curled into a fist at the crown of your head, and he finds himself having to silently remind himself to get a grip. As much as he wants  to take you the way his body is telling him to take you, he refuses to do anything that can potentially hurt you. Though he’d given you his hand for the sake of comforting you, he found it ended up being more for his benefit than for yours. He holds it tightly as he gives another gentle, experimental thrust.

“Joel, move. Please. I need you to move.”

“Baby—”

“Please,” you all but plead him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and push your hips forward, wanting to feel every inch of him that you could.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out in a moan. As careful as he wants to be with you, he knows that if you keep it up, that would all go out the fucking window.

Any discomfort or pain that you might have felt initially vanishes completely, having been replaced with nothing but explosive waves of ecstasy that come with each and every single one of Joel’s thrusts.

There isn’t one single part of you that isn’t lost in just the most heavenly haze as he picks up his pace and delivers swift, smooth strokes. Just when you think it cannot possibly get any better, Joel dips his head and begins whispering into the hollow of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. Fuck, I’ve been dreamin’ of this for years now, y’know that?”

“Joel,” you whimper his name.

“You’re mine, you understand me? You’re all fuckin’ mine,” Joel whispers breathlessly. He continues to pick up the pace as he demands, “Tell me you’re mine, sweet girl. Need to hear you say it—”

Biting your lip, you look up into his eyes and nod your head, managing to find your voice in between your moans. “I’m yours—all fucking yours, Joel.”

You’re close and so is he, you can feel it.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out as his entire body begins to shudder. He gives you one last, deep thrust that brings you both to come at the exact same moment.

Joel collapses beside you onto his back, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath and recollect himself.

You’re in a similar state, though perhaps a little more shaken.

“C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him, tucking you into his side. “You’re tremblin’ a little. You alright?”

“I’m alright.” You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

He remains silent, as if thinking over his answer.

Your throat goes dry—he didn’t regret it, did he?

“Joel—”

“Earlier, you asked me if you were my weakness.”

You nod. “Yeah…”

Joel pulls you so that you’re laying across his chest. He holds you close, squeezing you as if he’s afraid someone’s going to come along and snatch you out of his grasp. “Pretty sure you know by now that you are,” he says, his fingers subconsciously running themselves through your hair. “You’re my weakness, my Achilles’ heel, whatever the fuck you wanna call it—all I know is that if somethin’ ever happens to you, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Joel.”

“What if I can’t keep you safe?”

You frown. “Joel, I’ve been by your side for what, six years now? And you’ve always kept me safe. Hell, you saved my ass on the night we met. If it hadn’t been for you showing up and scaring those guys away—” You stop, shoving the thought of what could have possibly happened to you that night out of your mind. “I told you. I’m the safest when I’m with you. I know I am.”

“But—”

You silence him with a kiss. “Joel, stop looking for a reason to push me away.” You toss him a small, exhausted smile. “Besides, I think it’s a little late for that now anyway, don’t you think?”

You lay your head back down onto Joel’s chest and he continues to run his hand through your hair, over and over again. He surely must have known that he’s lulling you into a deep sleep.

“Joel?” you say his name, drowsily.

“What is it, baby?”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you mumble into his chest. “Ever.”

Joel holds you closer, trying with every fiber of his being to set aside his fears as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

[corporatefrog]

╭₊˚ ๑︰A Bit Tied Up ๑ ꒱

✧.* featuring: stan calling yn to help get human kite out of a sticky situation after a run in with professor chaos

✧.* tags: college au, comedy, superhero au

✧.* Characters: kyle broflovski, stan marsh

masterlist

“Dude, you have to just grab my hand.” 

“I’m trying- bleugh- fuck!” 

“You’re obviously not or else you’d be out of the tree by now.”

When Stan told me Kyle had gotten stuck in a tree during one of their ‘epic battles’ against Professor Chaos, I pictured the situation in my head. A human kite can only get stuck in a tree in so many ways after all. But the sight I was greeted with when I pulled up to PC Park was so much funnier. 

He’d somehow gotten the string of the kite wrapped around his left arm and leg, trapping them against the branches. A small branch sat against his face and wacked his face with leaves whenever he moved his head. (Which worked perfectly because Kyle always had to have the last word resulting in a leave shaped mark on the side of his face) Another branch pierced his kite, leaving him as stuck in the tree as humanly possible. 

The first ten minutes of my trip were, understandably, spent laughing at the predicament Kyle had gotten himself into. I mean, I did tell them to not do their superhero shit in the park. Especially after last time when Clyde had run into a family barbeque and had gotten blasted by bug spray. But no. I’m the crazy one! How could I possibly suggest that staying out of the park with an odd amount of park related superheroes would be a better idea? 

So I spent the next 10 minutes after the first 10 laughing at Kyle some more. Then Stan and I began to try and pull him out of the tree. However, we underestimated the difficulty of dragging a 6’2 stubborn redhead out of a tree while said redhead throws a fit.

Kyle’s arms went limp, swinging loosely as he breathed heavily from the exertion. 

“This is ridiculous.” He weakly tugged his left arm against the string but it didn’t budge. The movement shook the branch, sending the small branch flying into his face for the hundredth time that day. Kyle cursed and swiped at the branch. 

I smirked up at him, biting back another wave of laughter, “Glad to see you still have your stunning analytical abilities.” 

Kyle shot me a sour look. He wasn’t amused with the first 20 minutes of laughter and I had a feeling 30 minutes would be pushing it.

Beside me, Stan had backed up to take stock of the current situation. He was still in his Toolshed outfit, utility belt hanging around his waist with various power tools ready to be used against the various forces of evil which plagued South Park. Like the devious Professor Chaos that led them to this conundrum. 

Yeah if ‘devious’ means a silly little guy who’s counting down the days to the Barbie movie. Then he’s the most devious motherfucker I know. 

“I’m just saying-” I started. 

“Yeah, like you’ve been saying this whole time.” Kyle snapped, cursing again as the branch returned for another smack. You think he’d learn to just stop talking or break the branch but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that.

I continued, not acknowledging his remark, “This situation could’ve been entirely avoided if you didn’t take this chase through the park like I told you.” Stan groaned behind me, talking while he paced around the tree in search of an easy way to release his friend.

“And like I told you, Chaos had the deed to Kenny’s house and he was going to destroy it! We had to follow him!” Stan pulled out a circle saw and held it up to the trunk of the tree, moving it back and forth to test the small saw against the large tree. 

“And what good are you doing standing here with fucknuts stuck in the tree?” I asked, pointing up at Kyle who was growing more pissed off with each passing minute that he was stuck in the tree. 

“HEY! Don’t call me fucknuts, dickwipe!” He snapped, the branch sound now consistently following all of his quips.

Crack. 

We all went silent at the sound of the crack. Stan and I looked up, catching a glimpse of Kyle’s own shocked face before the branch holding his arm and leg captive let out another cracking noise. The branch dipped, shaking Kyle and ripping through the top of his kite. Without his back being held up, Kyle’s right side pulled towards the ground as all his weight pulled on the slowly splintering branch. 

Kyle’s eyes met my own in the split second before catastrophe. 

“Oh fuck.” He said before the branch broke, sending him plummeting to the ground. 

Kyle collided with the ground in a pile of plastic canvas looking like a kite that was sent through a garbage disposal. He groaned, pulling his now free arm and leg away from the branch before flopping back onto the ground with a weak sigh. 

A moment of silence out of respect. One…two…three…

Okay. Now we laugh. Kyle was not amused with my behavior for the next 40 minutes. I, on the other hand, found everything about the situation utterly hilarious.

[blackbird-brewster]

Good Vibrations - Part 3

Tara/Rebecca || Rated: Explicit || WC: 1065 Fills: Masturbation (for @cmkinkbingo2024 and @storiesofsvu bday bingo) Additional Tags: Established relationship, vibrators, shower masturbation, long-distance

Just because they're not in the same place doesn't mean Tara's girlfriend can't help get her off.

[Read on AO3] || [Kink Bingo Masterlist]

Tara tossed her go-bag onto the bed and kicked off her shoes. She'd been on the road for a week and even this run-down hotel room was better than trying to sleep in her car. Everything changed with the pandemic and her job was no exception. Between budget cuts and restructuring, the BAU operated on bare bones nowadays. Tara's role was mostly nomadic, travelling from town to town whenever a profiler's expertise was needed on a case.

She adjusted more quickly than JJ, who was doing the same kind of consulting, but then again, Tara didn't have a spouse and kids waiting for her in DC. Unlike JJ, Tara had spent the past seven years being single, which was exactly how she preferred it. She'd been married before, been divorced, fell in love again, got engaged again, but that relationship fell apart shortly after she joined the BAU. In hindsight, she was grateful she cut Doug loose before they tied the knot.

Tara Lewis didn't need man in her life. She was the epitome of a strong, independent woman. She put all her focus on her work and if anyone enquired about her relationship status, she'd joke she was married to the job. No, Tara didn't need a man in her life, but as of four weeks ago, she realised, perhaps, what she actually needed was a woman.

She met Rebecca through an Al-Anon meeting at the bureau and they hit it off right away. They grabbed coffee together a few days later and wound up spending the entire afternoon getting to know each other. From that first day, Tara found herself completely enamoured.

Rebecca was also career driven and fiercely independent, so Tara's frequent trips away didn't bother her. They made it work when they were apart, and Tara's schedule just meant when they did get time together, it was all the more special.

Her new relationship didn't change her life as radically as she'd feared. Mostly, she and Rebecca would share a night together when Tara was in DC, then they'd share a few messages or calls while she was on the road. The whole thing was rather lowkey, to the point Tara hadn't even told her friends about it yet. Not because she was ashamed of her relationship, but rather the opposite, she didn't see the need to make big deal of it.

After three days of nonstop driving, Tara was looking forward to a hot shower and a good night's sleep. She pulled her long hair into a tight bun, stripped out of her dirty clothes, and headed to the bathroom. She'd brought her phone with her, more out of habit than anything, and it pinged to alert her of a new message.

She smiled seeing Rebecca had sent her a nearly two minute voice note. By now, Tara knew what these voice notes usually entailed. She quickly ran back to her bag to dig out a small vibrator. She turned it to standby mode, before sending a confirmation text.

[Just jumping in the shower. Feel free to use the app...] sent at 20:11

Rebecca's reply didn't come through the phone, instead her acknowledgment was received as the vibrator began to pulsate in Tara's hand. The app controlled device had been Rebecca's idea and Tara had to admit, it was well worth the money. No matter where she was, Rebecca had the power to get her girlfriend off.

Tara stepped into the shower, slipped the vibrator in her cunt, and finally pressed play on the voice note. The hot water felt heavenly on her sore muscles, but her attention was more focused on her girlfriend's voice as it filled the small bathroom. Rebecca really did have a way with words, whether that was a natural talent or a byproduct of being a lawyer, Tara couldn't say. Either way, Rebecca's husky voice came through the phone, detailing all of the things she wished she could be doing to her girlfriend.

Tara leaned against the wall, hiking one foot up to the side of tub to position the external part of the toy over her clit. The vibration intensity changed suddenly and her toes curled. She closed her eyes and let herself get absorbed in Rebecca's dirty talk, all while knowing her girlfriend could control the device to her liking. Just as soon as that thought crossed her mind, the pulsations changed again, short, strong bursts sent shivers through her entire body. Her hand clamped around the vibrator to hold it in the perfect spot, each pulse pushed her closer to release. She was moaning Rebecca's name to an empty room, each syllable echoing off the tile walls.

It felt incredible, but she need more. She mentally begged for more, praying her partner would somehow hear her. Her pleading whispers of 'more, more, please, more' went unanswered as the toy's vibration pattern stayed the same. She was two seconds away from taking control herself, when the vibrator suddenly maxed out on the highest intensity. She shrieked, her cunt clenching around the toy involuntarily, as her orgasm hit without warning. She turned to bury her face in her shoulder to muffle an obscenely loud moan.

The vibration pattern changed again sending unpredictable bursts of pleasure, before stopping completely for beat or two, only to come back on with an even higher intensity. Any other time, she might have worried about the neighbouring guests hearing the obscenities she was yelling, she might have even been embarrassed about it too, but currently, her brain was nothing but endorphins as she coasted through her second orgasm in five minutes.

When she had control of her limbs again, she pulled the vibrator out and powered it off manually to cut off Rebecca's ability to control it. Her legs felt like jelly as she cut the shower off and simply slipped down to sit in the tub while she tried to recover.

Her phone rang and she answered it with a breathy, "Jesus christ, Bee."

"Yeah, I figured you'd like that," Rebecca chuckled. "I think I'm really getting the hang of this app now."

"You sure are." Tara muttered back.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

[karikarasuno]

sonder ch. vi

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: Bickering, Angst, Discussions of Grief, Mentions of Parental Death

Word Count: 5.8k

song(s) for the chapter: to lose someone by joy crookes

a/n: happy valentine's day, have some angst. but rest assured relationships are very slowly developing, we just have to get through all the sad first.

chapter v | chapter vi | chapter vii

Winter was starting to become your least favorite season. The chill sat in your bones, frigid cold settling pressured between bone and muscle. And quite frankly, you were over it. But the peaks of these seasons always pulled the most extreme emotions from you. Either it was too hot or too cold. And right now, you were standing firmly in the midst of ‘too cold’ outside of the restaurant Moblit made reservations for that you only learned about two hours ago. Another tradition of the group. New Year’s dinner at this family-owned Italian restaurant downtown. Since coming back from home after the holidays, work was picking up its natural momentum again. Projects were being introduced and deadlines were set. Because of that you haven’t spent much time with anyone outside of your coworkers. You spent one dinner with Erwin and Levi the evening after your flight from home, but that was it. A dinner, a week of working, and now another dinner. You two were the first to arrive since the little place was just a few streets from the office. 

Moblit, the liar that he was, said the walk was only 15 minutes, but when the wind sliced your exposed cheeks and your fingers curled into fists in the pockets of your coat at minute 20, you loudly made it his problem until you reached your destination. 

“I told you it wasn’t too far,” he declared as he opened the door for you. You hit him a glare icy enough to rival the weather and he only returned it with a sneaky smile. 

“I’m on the verge of hypothermia, Moblit,” you said, shaking snowflakes from your shoulders and stomping your feet on the mat inside. 

“Has anyone ever told you how dramatic you are?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a liar?” 

“I don’t lie,” he responded, unwinding his scarf from around his neck. “I exaggerate.” 

That pulled a chuckle from your lips, especially when you looked over at him and noted the pride in his eyes. “Glad you’re so self-aware.”

He gave the hostess his name when the two of you reached the stand and it gave you enough time to look at your surroundings. It was intimate and cozy, the restaurant surprisingly empty, but that could be because you arrived just before the traditional dinner rush hour. You followed the young woman to your table. Half of it was a booth pressed against the wall while the outside portion was a set of chairs. Moblit sat in one of the chairs at the very end while you took a space in the booth on the opposite side of the table. 

“You’re so mad at me that you have to sit as far away as possible,” he joked, draping his coat on the back of his chair. 

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you teased, falling heavily into the booth as you feigned a pout in his direction. He rolled his eyes, a quip surely on the tip of his tongue but lost with a sudden burst of conversation from the entrance. When you both looked over you saw Hange, Levi, and Erwin striding in, seemingly entranced in a riveting and loud conversation. But anything could be riveting when it came to Hange. You waved when you made eye contact with Levi, who had stepped ahead of the others. He looked relieved to see you, which made you hide a smile behind your hand as he made his way towards you. 

“Those two have been arguing about fucking public transportation since we got onto the train. I was this,” he brought his thumb and forefinger together so that they nearly touched, but didn’t, “close to losing it.”

“It’s too cold for you to be this mad at the world,” you joked, sliding further into the booth so Levi could sit beside you. 

“You’re one to talk,” Moblit chimed in with a laugh. “The entire walk over here she was grumbling about how far it was.”

“Ok wait,” you turned to face Levi directly while pointing behind you at Moblit. “He lied and said it was a short walk. It was half an hour and last time I checked it was below freezing outside!”

“Not half an hour,” he argued, a shiteating grin plastered across his face. “It was only 25 minutes.”

“Oh wow, five minutes. You really saved me with those,” you replied sarcastically, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling back at him. He stuck his tongue out at you childishly while the others took their seats across from you. The chatter remained throughout the entire dinner. When Nanaba and Mike arrived a few minutes later, everyone had already ordered drinks. Erwin ordered you a Merlot that he promised was the best he’s ever had and he refused to give you the drink menu when you asked so you could see how much it was. 

“It’s not like it matters,” he said as he put the menu out of your reach when you attempted to grab it from him. “I’m paying for you anyways.”

“No you’re not,” you immediately argued, mostly from surprise. And you knew not to press it when he sent you a pointed look and went “yes, I am.”

You looked at Levi blinkingly, and all you received was a shrug as he sipped on his water. The words died in your throat and you were positive you looked like a fish with the way your mouth opened and closed around nothing. Erwin winked at you, the bastard, before he turned to chime into whatever conversation Moblit and Mike were having about hosting a Superbowl party next month. 

It was getting harder to deny the blurry relationship between the three of you. It was friends. But it was beginning to function like something slightly more than that. And you weren’t sure how to bring it up– if you even should bring it up at all. Especially seeing as you still weren’t sure how you felt and trying to explain that would probably be a shit show. So you cleared your throat and grabbed the glass of wine that the server thankfully dropped off and took an inelegant gulp before thinking twice about it. 

Nanaba gave you a sideways glance from her seat next to you, and you did a poor job of smiling in return since you were still swallowing down the wine. “I needed something to help warm me up,” you attempted to explain, but that only got you a sympathetic smile and a nod before she said, “That will surely do the job.”

The server chose then to ask for your order and before you could rattle it off, Levi answered with a simple, “She’ll have the Rigatoni Ala Vodka and I’ll take the Cacio e Pepe, please.”

An irritation was beginning to settle somewhere in your gut. Only worsened by the alcohol which provided a rather unpleasant buzz. You didn’t understand why Levi ordering for you made you react so ridiculously, but it was becoming overwhelming. Specifically because it felt too intimate. Something Onyankopon would do for you all the time, your indecisiveness always kicking in when you went out for dinner because you could never decide between two or more dishes.

“You didn’t have to order for me,” you whispered as you leaned in closer to Levi. He tilted his head towards you in response, a soft barely there smile tugging his lips. “Don’t worry about it. I know you wanted to try both, so I figured I’d get one and you get the other so you can have a bite of each.”

Tears stung your throat, a pain so fierce you couldn’t swallow around it as you fought the urge to cry. The gesture was sweet and thoughtful and everything you ever sought in a friendship. It was cozy and kind and you didn’t know what to say. No words came to your mind when you looked in his eyes and he nudged his shoulder against yours. 

The moment, while small and virtually insignificant to anyone around, was interrupted by Moblit calling your name. “I think you should host the Superbowl party,” he said, grin wide and full of roguishness. 

“And why the hell would I do that?” You asked, shock evident in your tone. 

“Because it would be fun,” Moblit laughed.

“If memory serves, someone,” you looked exaggeratedly Hange’s way, “here happens to own a bar with at least 3 tvs.”

“And a projector,” Hange added, nodding their head along with you. 

“And a projector!” Which you had never seen, but were sure they probably had stored somewhere in the backroom, seeing as they always had the most random things hidden throughout the bar. Moblit stuck his tongue out at you for the second time that evening, not even attempting to argue your very sound argument and instead answering, “we’ll consider that as an option.”

You chuckled, unable to hide your amusement and taking a sip of your wine. You leaned back comfortably in the booth, falling easily into your usual role of observer. Their group dynamic never failed to amaze you. The rich history between them was palpable and as an outsider it shocked you how you never felt like an intruder in a club that existed long before you arrived. But just as another piece of a puzzle that finally found its place in a much larger picture. The food came out soon after, and as Levi promised you ended up swapping meals at one point to try each other’s. And to know one’s surprise but yours, you enjoyed his more. He offered to keep your plate, but even that seemed like too much and you had to yank it back from him when he fixed his lips to argue with you. 

The restaurant had a steady flow of customers, your table seemingly a permanent fixture as the hours dwindled closer to the late evening. And before you could truly feel bad about overstaying your welcome, you found out that Mike knew the owner. Of course he did. In a city of millions, it all still seemed so small and interconnected. As the chatter of the bustling dinner rush died down and all that was left were a few diners, you heard a familiar melody sweep over the restaurant. The chord progression triggered the racing of your heart, and your ears began to isolate the music so much so that the people around you and their excited conversation was dulled and stifled into near silence. 

When the voice began to sing the lyrics you memorized by heart, it was unfamiliar to you. A woman’s voice. Sweet and soft. The pain of each word captured just as raw and cutting, but when you were so used to hearing Onyankopon’s tenor this left a sour, uncomfortable taste in your mouth. Your palms were starting to dampen, your body rising in temperature, and the anxiety that always followed you slammed into your chest with distinction. Suddenly your breath was labored and hard to control. With every attempt to steady the feeling, the longer the song played for the worse it all got. There was the panic of grief gripping at you. And you knew that you needed to leave. If only for a moment just to calm down. You blinked and inhaled, the group still chatting heartily around you which you were thankful for. Hopefully, your exit wouldn’t come as too abrupt, especially when you couldn’t get your fingers properly secured around your jacket that was tucked between you and Levi’s thigh. You gave up on it when he asked if you were okay. He sensed the shift but you didn’t have the words to explain anything to him at that moment. So you grabbed your phone instead. Not a suitable or logical replacement, but you needed to do something with your hands to explain away your fidgeting. 

“Can you scoot out for a second?” You asked, the hand not gripping your phone braced against the back of the booth as you turned your body to face him, angling it so you could easily slip out once he did. 

“Yeah,” he said as confusion knitted his brows together as he slid away from you and stood. 

“I’ll be right back.” You attempted a reassuring smile, but you were sure it came off as a grimace instead, the pit in your stomach spiraling out into something nauseating. He opened his mouth to say something in return, but he didn’t have enough time to actually say the words before you turned away from him towards the door. And if he had said them, you were too far physically, mentally, and emotionally to process them. Not when the song was reaching the bridge, a flurry of instruments came in at a crescendo and you held your breath until your hand found the handle and twisted it. The cold bit at you immediately. But the silence that it brought with it was a sobering feeling. Your skin pricked with painful goosebumps and the air that filled your lungs nearly froze them in your chest, but it was a welcome feeling. Effective, even. 

Your hand trembled as you raised your phone so that you could see the screen. Once it was unlocked you opened a new tab and typed in the lyrics of the chorus. The song popped up instantly. Your heart felt as if it was split open again and you truly wondered when this agony would be over. When your heartbreak would finally mend itself so that you wouldn’t have to feel like you were being torn apart over any little reminder of him. But this wasn’t any little reminder. It was a song he wrote about you. About your break up. About how horribly you split him open as well. 

The woman whose voice was swirling around in your head now filled your screen. She was pretty. A dreamy kind of beauty that you couldn’t quite achieve, but she wore it well. Pieck Finger. She was who Onyankopon must have given the song to. Or his label at least when he brought it to them. It was a sick sort of feeling knowing he chose to share this with the world. Something so deeply personal it was only known on an island of you and him and a select few. But as you looked at the streams, it was now an island of hundreds of thousands. Too many people, not one of them knowing that this woman who you didn’t know was singing to you, about you. 

You locked your screen and closed your eyes. Tears were already teasing your lashes, but you didn’t want them to fall. You were so tired of crying. Crying over a breakup that happened almost a year ago. Months had passed and you’ve managed to build an entirely new life that you were happy with, and yet this still stung. And you wondered momentarily how or if or when you would stop grieving this loss. How do people survive this? How do they continue to go on when a singular moment can derail months of reflection and growth? 

But have you really grown? Have you truly reflected? It was all so confusing and you continued to run away and you needed to stop running. Clearly the distance you thought you were creating wasn’t enough. 

“It’s freezing.” The voice behind you was stern with a hint of worry buried beneath the frustration. 

“I know,” you responded, the words sounding clunky as they tumbled off your tongue and in Levi’s direction. You didn’t face him even as he walked towards you. You saw his figure in your peripheral. His coat open, hair lashing around his forehead as it was tousled in the fierce wind. He held your coat in a firm grip and when he was close enough he pushed it against your chest. You grabbed it before it could fall to the ground, slipping your arms into the sleeves and not bothering to zip it up, allowing yourself to still feel the cold because it was currently the only thing keeping you from falling apart. 

“Why?” You heard him ask, wondering if the rest of the question got eaten up by the sound of a car speeding past you. 

“What?” Your response was aimed at the floor, still unable to turn and face him. Not entirely sure why that was, but you listened to your mind nonetheless. 

“Why did you just get up and leave like that? Without your coat? It’s free-”

“It's freezing, I know.” Your nose was frozen and your lips were quickly drying out too, so you were well aware of the low temperature. “I just needed a second.”

“From?” He stepped closer and while your mind didn’t want you to look at him, your body had an entirely different idea. When you met his eyes, the concern that was evident in his voice was so much clearer in his expression. The worry and confusion and irritation was displayed so strongly in his features that you were at a loss. It was rare that Levi allowed what he felt to be woven so obviously on his face. And it stunned you into place.

“It was the song,” he said. And you were starkly aware that he wasn’t asking. 

“How,” you breathed, the other words remaining stuck somewhere between your mind and esophagus. 

“The walls of our buildings aren’t as thick as you would think,” he explained, taking another tentative step toward you. “I recognized it as soon as you walked out.”

The tears that were previously soaked up by your eyelashes started to gather again. The weight of holding them back was burdening your shoulders and it all seemed so heavy. Too heavy for you to carry alone. 

“I wish you’d talk to us,” he whispered into the night. It was the softest you’ve ever heard him speak. Each word carried a tenderness that made your lip quiver and your heart collapse over itself. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, shaking your head and swiping your tongue across your top lip. It was salty and wet. And as you registered that there was a tear streaming down your cheek, Levi’s hand lifted and he wiped it away with his thumb. 

“Well,” he started, cupping your cheek and catching another stray tear with it. “You could start by sleeping in your bed.”

Your eyes lifted to meet his in obvious shock and what you saw within his gaze was a sympathy that would’ve crushed you if you noticed it in anyone else. But it was impossible to misinterpret Levi’s intentions as pity. It was the type of sincerity that resembled childlike innocence. Compelling and true without a shadow of a doubt. 

“I can’t,” you whispered between your bodies and suddenly the hand that was pressed against your cheek found its way to hold firm to the back of your head. He pulled you into a hug, sliding his other arm around your shoulders, effectively burying your face into his neck until you were consumed by the smell of him. 

“You can,” he whispered urgently through your hair against the shell of your ear. Your arms that were previously glued to your sides rose and wrapped themselves around his torso. Even buried beneath layers of clothing you could still feel how strong and stable he was. You anchored to him, hoping recklessly that if you held tight enough you would begin to feel the ground beneath your feet as solid instead of the swaying ship you’ve been lost on since you arrived in this city. 

You cried silently onto his shoulder, allowing the tears to soak into the fabric of his thick coat. It was the safest you have felt since the breakup. It felt like home and it smelled like home. Like shared meals and late nights. Like the scent of Erwin’s favorite candle and the sound of chaotic reality tv. The sense of belonging overwhelmed your senses and the city faded away into nothing. It was just you and Levi in a bubble of your own creation as your heart steadied and the ground leveled and the sky cleared. When you pulled away, Levi’s hair was dusted with snowflakes and your tears had stopped. Erwin came barrelling out of the front door of the restaurant then and when his eyes landed on the two of you, you were met with a relieved smile. His lips pressed together as he ate up the distance between the door and you and Levi in long, effortless strides. 

“I got boxes,” he said, holding up a bag with the handles secured between two hooked fingers. “And I ordered an Uber.” 

“I should go back in and grab my things and say bye to everyone,” you stepped away from Levi preparing to walk around him when Erwin’s hand found your waist and stopped you in your tracks. 

“No need. I said enough goodbyes for the three of us,” he chuckled. “And as for your things…” He held up his other hand, where you could see your purse and both yours and Levi’s scarves in his grip. 

“Now let’s go home,” he smiled again. This time with his teeth, and a wave of something you couldn’t decipher between adoration or love washed over you and between you and all around you. 

***

“I’m going home,” you declared to Moblit as you walked into his office. He was sitting at his desk, hair a mess from where you could tell he ran his hands through out of stress. He pinned you with a look of incredulity and envy.

“Two hours early? Have you been abducted and replaced or are you dying?” He joked, his tone flat but mocking when you shook your head and leaned against the doorframe. 

“Not dying and wasn’t abducted,” you ticked off the choices on your fingers to emphasize your point. “I finished my work early and figured I’d close out the day at home.”

You were honestly exhausted. The week had been too long. After dinner with everyone, you spent hours in your living room with Erwin and Levi talking. You opened up about Onyankopon. Explained to them how you were a whole ass fiancee before you moved to the city and while there were moments of surprise and sympathy, a massive weight was lifted from your shoulders. They took in all of the information, allowed you to cry when you needed it, and affirmed that whatever happens they would be there for you. 

That was also the first night you spent in your own bed. You hoped that you would fall asleep quickly because of how drained emotionally you were, but once the guys left and you were alone all you could seem to do was stare at your ceiling until time faded into long seconds. Sleep came eventually like it always did, but it wasn’t easy or peaceful. You woke the next morning before your alarm and that started the sad game of attempting to catch up on your sleep and you missing the mark each night. So by the time Friday rolled around, the exhaustion had rooted deeply into your nerves and all you wanted was to go home and rot away for the rest of the weekend. 

No plans, just sitting and doing nothing but eating and sleeping. It sounded like a dream. 

“I’ll see you Monday, then,” he said, and you returned the sentiment with a parting wave. Anticipation sat heavy in your body as your home came into view. You were beginning to feel the way your clothes rested against your skin and you were itching to get out of them and into something far larger and comfier. What you weren’t expecting though was Erwin. Sat on your steps with his shoulders hunched down towards his knees. You immediately sensed that something was wrong. And all of the worst possibilities popped into your mind before you shoved them aside, swallowed your anxiety down, and approached him tentatively. 

While worry was thrumming against your skin and only worsened by the chafing of fitted fabric, you didn’t want to alert Erwin of that. As to not scare him off. Not that you thought you ever really could scare Erwin off. 

“Hey,” you said softly, barely above a whisper and in an octave higher than your usual speaking tone. He looked up when he heard the gate squeak open on its rusted hinges and you tried not to jump to conclusions when you saw the glistening of tears shining against bright blue. He really could give the ocean a run for its money the way he always seemed to take your breath away. 

“Hi,” he cleared his throat, looking away from you and blinking twice before settling his eyes back on your face. 

“You're home early,” you tried to keep things light, but open enough for him to say what was so clearly bothering him. 

“So are you,” he chuckled humorlessly, the sound sending fault lines across your already unstable heart. 

“Yeah,” you began, stepping forward and sitting beside him on the cement step, the ground so cold it nearly felt wet against your bottom. “I figured I would get an early start on the weekend considering it’s been a pretty long week.”

“Makes sense. I let my class go early today since they have a paper due Sunday.” His voice was distant, his thoughts evidently not present in the current conversation but entertaining it nonetheless. 

“Is that the only reason you ended your lecture early?” You pried, shoulder resting against his as he still managed to avoid eye contact with you. Instead he chose to stare at his hands, fingers interlocked with each other as he toyed with the ring on his middle finger. His expression was contemplative and pained. A war was clearly being waged in his mind and curiosity was biting at you, only to be restrained by the patience you forced yourself to have for Erwin’s sake. 

“No,” he shook his head, lifting his gaze forward to glance at the older woman walking past with her tiny dog in a sweater and cute little boots on his paws. “My dad called me this morning. He wanted to let me know that…”

He let the sentence fall flat, his eyes screwing shut as if a sharp pain stabbed at his temple. “My dad is engaged.”

The words were said with a mixture of confusion and sorrow. Something you weren’t sure how to navigate or respond to. So you allowed the words to hang in the air instead, waiting a moment to see if he would continue. A minute or so passed, his head still hung low with his chin tucked to his chest and you could tell he wasn’t so sure how to navigate his emotions himself. Settling on, “I’m happy for him. At least I want to be. But selfishly or, I don’t know, the hopeless romantic in me just assumed he wouldn’t remarry after mom died.”

It was heavy and intricate, the emotions he was trying to convey to you. Too sticky and knotted to put into words that would make sense. It was like a dozen strings of hair stuck to a ball of gum right at the nape of your neck. You could cut it out with really no harm being done, no one would see it really, but you knew it was there. A piece of you was gone because it was too difficult to figure out how to remove or salvage it. 

This was Erwin’s attempt at salvaging it. 

“It sounds silly and naive, I know. I just- I don’t even know this woman. I didn’t even realize he was dating someone, let alone in a relationship serious enough for him to propose to her.”

It was that moment that he looked at you, a long ago buried grief returning to the surface and cracking his features in a way that was almost unrecognizable to you. You instinctively reached out for him, your hand finding his and slipping between his fingers. Your body turned to face him, knees touching and face leaning closer to his. 

“It’s not silly, Erwin. It’s complicated and surprising, but your feelings aren’t silly.” You tried validating him, but feared your words wouldn’t be enough for him. “Have you ever considered that he would eventually find someone else?”

He sighed, forehead falling to rest on your shoulder as he collected his thoughts. “When I was younger I used to think about it all the time. What it would be like having a stepmom, what my dad would be like happy again. But then time kept going and it was only ever the two of us. I turned 17 and then 21 and then I started dating Levi and my dad was always just that. And I thought we were close. I see him every weekend for fuck’s sake and you would think that all of these months he would mention going on a single date.”

His tone was getting progressively angry, an obvious agitation strained at his shoulders and when he raised his head you could see the sadness in his eyes replaced with something akin to resentment. Maybe not as strong but still there. 

“I knew something was going on too. On Thanksgiving, he was acting so weird with me when I asked who he was talking to, but Levi told me not to press it and that he would talk to me on his own time. But this is a little ridiculous, right? Going from not knowing this woman’s name to then knowing she’s my dad’s fiancee.”

“It is a little jarring, I can agree with you on that.”

“Am I being too harsh?” He seemed genuine in that question, conflicting emotions of guilt and irritation flicking across his features. 

“How did you respond when he told you?” He flinched when you asked, obviously hitting a sore subject. 

“Not the best. I kinda told him that he didn’t care about me or mom if he thought getting engaged after only a few months was a smart decision…” He groaned at that admission, tears finding their place at his lashes again and your heart fell to your stomach for him. 

“Erwin-” You started, tone sympathetic but he could sense the vague disapproval in the way you said his name. 

“It came out the wrong way. I know he cares about me. And, Jesus Christ, I know he cares about my mom. Hell, he still loves her, obviously. This just all seems so fast and sudden.”

His head fell back as he lifted his face towards the sky, which decided that that was the perfect moment to drop flurries of snow from the grey clouds above. You watched as they fell across his cheeks, melting upon impact on his reddened skin. “I hurt his feelings.”

“You’re also hurt.”

“Doesn’t mean I should’ve taken it out on him the way that I did.” He breathed heavily, remorse the final reigning emotion weighing down his body until it was mostly resting against your side. 

“Loss is tricky. Not that I know even remotely how you feel, but I can say that the impact of loss is forever,” you rested your cheek on the top of his head when you felt him release a shaky breath, “And I’m sure your dad knows where your reaction came from, even if his feelings have been hurt in the process. Just apologize and tell him how you feel the same way you just told me. And then, maybe ask to meet her,” you added with a light laugh.

“I don’t even know what she looks like. That’s so weird,” he groaned, sounding exhausted but much less pained than he did a few minutes ago. “Makes me miss my mom.”

The confession made your chest hurt, an ache for him growing across your sternum and stretching to your interlocked hands. “I know.”

“I hate that she never got to meet Levi,” he muttered against your jacket, the words almost lost against the fabric if it weren’t so shockingly quiet outside. 

“Oh, Erwin,” you squeezed his hand, a burn forming in your throat as you tried to think of something to say.

“And you,” he added, head rising to gaze at you and a tear finally spilling over and onto his cheek. “You two would’ve gotten along really well.”

You smiled, lifting your arms to wrap around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a gut feeling I have.”

“Just a hunch, huh?” You pulled back, placing your hands on his cheeks when you were face to face.

“My intuition has never let me down,” he joked, a smile with a tinge of sadness kissing his lips. 

“I find that hard to believe actually. Your intuition has led us to some pretty crazy places.”

“Like when?”

“After dinner the other night when you made the uber stop at that weird corner store because you swore it sold guava and cheese pastries, and I told you that it didn’t look like it had Latin food at all, but you insisted. Saying and I quote ‘trust me, I have a feeling this is the place.’”

His laugh interrupted you when he recalled the memory, but before he could defend himself you shushed him and continued, “And not only was I right, but we had to walk the rest of the way home with no pastries and Levi complaining that he saw a rat running across the food display counter.”

“To be fair, I said my intuition has never let me down. Not that it’s never wrong, because if I remember correctly you thought it was funny, I thought it was funny, and Levi is Levi and did not think it was funny, but that’s very on brand for him.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed at the technicality, instead rising to your feet and extending a hand to him, “whatever. How about we go inside and I can make us some tea or hot chocolate or something?”

“That sounds good,” he said, grabbing your hand and standing to join you. 

“I’m pretty sure my ass is wet from sitting on the ground,” you grumbled lightheartedly as you unlocked your front door. And as you slotted the key in place, you felt Erwin’s hand come up and raise the bottom of your coat saying, “nope, it’s nice and dry.”

You swatted at his hand as your door swung open and scolded him with a firm look over your shoulder. That earned you a genuine smile, the kind that brightened his eyes and you fought the heat that rose to your cheeks and turned away from him before your body could do something you would regret. Like kiss that very smile. 

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Poisoned Mix-ups

Rating: Teen and Up Characters: Kamek, Kammy Relationships: Kamek & Kammy Tags: Sickfic, Poisoning, Humor, Sick Kamek

Summary: Kammy didn't want to be at this mixer, really. Doubly so when Kamek gets himself poisoned. Prompts: Toxin/Poison Word Count: 2,116 words

[AO3 Link] [Link to Series]

~~~

Kammy didn't want to be at this mixer, really.

But networking was networking, so she stayed, she schmoozed, and then she spent the minutes until it wasn't irreparably rude to simply leave sitting at a table in the corner of the venue and glaring at almost anyone who came near, mood additionally soured because while she would like to go and mingle a little bit more to see if there was anyone cute to chat up, it was rather difficult to do so with Kamek within a 20-foot radius of her. He was just so ugly. A true cute-lady repellent, if she’d ever seen one.

“...I heard that.”

“You were meant to.”

Anyway, this mixer unfortunately wasn't big enough to ignore him, so she could kiss the promise of an exciting night goodbye. Which was a shame, because it would have made the evening closer to worth suffering through. At least she could order some drinks in consolation; there was a surprisingly decent selection.

And the server was bringing her drinks now, both of them. And an extra, smaller third one, too, as per the little promotion written on the drink menu. As the drinks were set on the table, Kammy studied the server themself. Something about their demeanor felt...off, and Kammy was distracted enough trying to figure out why to the point of not noticing in time that Kamek had grabbed her extra drink.

“Hey!”

Kamek took a long sip, unapologetically holding eye contact with her. Ugh, this was because she’d tripped him in front of his supposed “fans” this morning, wasn't it. As long as he didn't say anything stupid about her weight; if she was going to bear his immature stupidity, he could at least have the decency to be clever about it.

Unable to be bothered with getting back at him at the current moment, Kammy started in on her own drinks. Most of the way through her first, she glanced across the room and actually managed to spot a girl cute enough to chat up. By the time she wandered back from doing so, Kamek had his head resting on the table.

Kammy sat back down and nudged him with a foot. “One drink and you’re already wasted?” she sardonically said.

The noise Kamek responded with was unintelligible and strangled. Kammy frowned. She bent under the table to get a better look at him. His face was ashen and scrunched up in pain, and he had a hand pressed against his own throat.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kammy hauled him upright by his lapels, ignoring his weak attempts to push her away. It was then she heard his labored breathing and his slowed pulse, and she cursed. Her suspicions immediately drew her eyes to Kamek’s half-finished drink; she spotted the flecks of powder that had floated to the surface around the ice and cursed again. That damn server...!

The next few hours happened in a blur. Kammy got the two of them out of the venue by saying...something, ignoring their yelling about her stealing their glassware, and then Kamek was slumped against a grimy alley wall retching nothing as Kammy tried every trick in the book to identify the poison that had been slipped into that drink. And then she was at the hotel, racking up fines while trying to both stabilize him and brew an antidote as fast as she could. And then it was the next day.

Late into the afternoon, Kamek groaned, blinking awake. As he struggled to sit up, he was met with Kammy looming over him, a stormy expression on her face.

“Did you take my drink on purpose.” Her question was a statement, and it was a very angry one.

“I — what?” Kamek groped for his glasses to put them on.

“The server. Poisoned. My drink.”

“Oh.”

“My drink. That you stole.”

“...Oh!”

Kammy continued to glare at him.

“Well...” Kamek fidgeted. “...Are they dead?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good,” Kamek absently said, still trying to mentally piece together what had happened. “Might have been working with someone.”

“Taken care of.” Kammy bit.

Kamek studied her, the impressive bags under her eyes, the frizzy messiness of her hair. “What’s up with you?” he asked. The grinding of Kammy’s teeth was audible.

“My drink,” she growled. “Did you know?”

“Wh —?” Kamek balked. “No? Why would I —? Are you implying I was working with —?”

“I’m implying you’re a self-sacrificing idiot.”

Kamek narrowed his eyes. “I didn't know,” he said. “If I did, then I would have let you drink it. You would have been fine,” he continued over Kammy’s affronted squawk. “You have those poison cure-all herbs or whatever they are in your bag anyway. Surely you wouldn't forget about those.”

...Kammy’s face darkened, but not before a flash of surprise crossed it first.

“...the...ones you carry on your person at all times and thus can't possibly —?”

“I hate you!” Kammy burst out with a snarl, turning on her heel and stomping away. “I should have let you choke on your own damn bile!”

The door slammed with a bang. Before Kamek could do more than blink at it, it opened back up, and something was thrown through with enough force to hit Kamek square in the forehead. The door slammed shut again, somehow even louder.

Rubbing the pain out of his face, Kamek picked up what was thrown. It was a vial, half-filled with what Kamek was almost certain was an antidote to whatever poison he’d been drugged with. Kamek swirled the liquid around and around with a heavy sigh. Kammy’s behavior always escaped him, even after all these years.

---

The next morning, after another dose of the antidote plus resting the entire previous day, Kamek felt well enough to venture down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. The only other people there were Kammy, stirring a cup of tea, a woman in a headscarf staring intently at her phone over a plate of pancakes, and a businessman resting his suitcase against the back of a chair. As Kamek was perusing the buffet table, the businessman came up to him, recognizing him from the mixer from the other night, and engaged him in some small talk. Kamek vaguely tolerated it.

“It was such a shame you had to leave early,” he was saying. “I’d heard that some of the food didn't agree with you. It’s a good thing your wife was there to take care of you, eh?”

“...my what.”

“Your wife?” He gestured to Kammy, who was moodily drinking her tea and not paying them any attention. “She’d said something about you not feeling well and then hurried you out of there! Honestly, I hardly even noticed you were ill; you two must really be attuned to each other. Makes me a bit jealous! Wish my wife was that attentive.”

“...Excuse me.” Kamek put his food down. He shuffled over to Kammy.

“What?” Kammy glowered at him.

“...I want a divorce.”

“So do I.” A beat. “Wait, we’re not married —!”

“Ah. Right.” Kamek reached up to adjust his glasses. “That’s good. I’d rather die, I think.”

“Not if I killed myself first!” Kammy’s face was the picture of open disgust. “Who would be stupid enough to marry someone like you?”

“Maybe the same person who would marry someone like you. Or maybe the person who thought we were married in the first place,” Kamek said, gesturing with his head to the man he was speaking of.

Said man’s face paled as Kamek and Kammy turned their full ireful attention to him. As he stammered something apologetic and hurried away, the last witness to the scene stifled laughter into her hand. Personally, she thought that with the way those two were glaring in such a united front, it at least made a little sense as to why he’d made that mistake, yeah?