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yelenasbraid · 19 days ago

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none of the bullshit — joe burrow

summary — you’re an athletic trainer with the bengals. joe’s taken a liking to you.

warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some good ol’ banter, implied smut, language, i sort of know what i’m talking about pls don’t come for me

tags — @wickedfun9 @softburrow @starsinthesky5 @joeburrowshaircurl @joeyfranchise @willowsnook @ebsmind @iosivb9 @blairsworld22 @kazsbrckkers

IT WAS COLD. Earlier, you were begging for the colder weather. The summer heat was no joke, but now, the colder winters were biting. You stood out on the practice field, layered up as best you could, keeping your eye on the players.

You were an athletic trainer for the Bengals, a damn good one you’d add. You had to put up with a lot of bullshit over the past couple of years, especially with a certain quarterback.

flashback to the summer

“This is the third time I’ve done this, Y/N. How is this helping me get anywhere?” Joe was frustrated. You’ve asked him to throw the ball the exact same way, three different times. It was his first time throwing after his injury and you were being cautious.

“You want to get out there and snap your wrist again?” You shot back, the summer heat beating down on the both of you. You didn’t have time for his complaints or his nonsense.

“No, but throwing ten yards isn’t going to do much,”

“You think I’m stupid? I know that. It’s called we’ll get there,” you chirped. His attitude was warranted, only sometimes. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but he thought it was closer than it really was. He also hated that you were right. Your wit has kept him sane, if he were to be honest with himself. It’s pushed him to be better, to do better.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he shook his head, going to throw the ball again.

End of flashback

You’ve watched Joe excel, watched as his wrist strengthened as he climbed the charts to be one of the best quarterbacks in the league. It was a thrill to see, even from the perspective of a witty athletic trainer.

“Cold?” you turned your head to watch a red-nosed Joe walk up to you.

“No, I’m actually sweating right now,” you sarcastically quipped, “yes I’m cold,”

“Sorry I asked,” Joe quipped, but a smirk painted his lips. He loved messing with you, mainly to see your pink cheeks and your smirk. As much as he messed with you, the feelings he had for you were very real. Having feelings for an athletic trainer wasn’t on his bingo card for the year, but here he was, never being able to pull himself from you. There was just something so magnetic about you.

“And you’re out here in shorts,” you scoffed, seeing the hoodie/jersey combo and the shorts he wore. He looked like he was taking a walk in the park when it was 50 degrees outside. It was below 30.

“It’s the high metabolism,” he came to stand next to you. He was much taller than you, and while he adored the height difference, he was well aware you could kick his ass.

“I think it’s the cockiness getting to you,” you muttered, earning a scoff from Joe.

“Wow,” he laughed, “I’ll make sure to put your name in for most supportive athletic trainer of the year,”

“Thanks, I deserve it,” you chuckled, looking up at him. He would agree with you; you did deserve it. Through his injury, the bullshit he put you through, you deserved some type of award. He wanted to be the one to give it to you, to see your face soften and your eyes widen.

“Yeah, you do,” he admitted, turning his face away from looking at you. There was a buzz between you, and you looked over at him. You watched as his breaths came out in puffs, how his cheeks, ears and nose were painted red. He wasn’t bad to look at, but you to remind yourself that you couldn’t indulge in those feelings. You’d lose your job.

You turned back to the field, feeling your heart slam against your chest. Now you were warm, your palms sweaty and your cheeks red. One of the coaches blew the whistle, signaling the end of the break and the beginning of the second half of practice.

—

Your cheeks were rosy, and you were warmer at the end of practice. You threw with Joe some more, gave him some strengthening techniques, and continued on with the banter that usually came from you both.

You grabbed your things, including a practice bag, and hoisted it on your shoulder. You looked back at Joe, who was standing with Ja’marr and Tee, a laugh spilling from his lips. He looked so cozy, so relaxed, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

You looked away, shaking your head. It wasn’t going to happen. You were an athletic trainer and he was a player, not just any player, the star player. You walked off of the field, a pep in your step as you started towards the facility.

“Boo,” you heard a voice in your ear, making you jump. You snapped your head over, and saw the towering quarterback next to you.

“Asshole,” you shoved him, your heart slamming in your chest from his scare and from him.

“Oh come on, you’re just a lil jumpy,” he teased. He liked seeing you all riled up, but he wasn’t stupid. He respected you enough to stop when you asked, or even when your body language betrayed you.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, walking next to him. He kept his pace with yours, even though it was slower due to the height difference.

As he walked next to you, he felt his stomach tie itself into knots. He usually didn’t get nervous; he was confident enough in his abilities to focus. But now? He faltered. You were beautiful, in every way, and the way you handled his antics just made his feelings ten times stronger for you.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” you hummed as you walked with him. The silence that was between you was tense, and it buzzed with unsaid feelings. What those feelings were, you couldn’t tell.

“Just thinking about all the ways to annoy you tomorrow,” he dramatically sighed, but it wasn’t completely true. He thought about you, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, the way your face blushed under the cool weather. He found himself, at points, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you, to have you as his.

“I knew it was preplanned,” you teased, giving him a smirk.

“Everything’s preplanned. I don’t do anything without thinking first.”

“That’s a lie,” you laughed, earning a scoff and a gentle shove from him.

“You’re supposed to support me, not break me down,” he pouted, and you mockingly pouted back.

“Aww, poor baby,” you huffed, and he only shook his head. You both neared the facility doors, and as warmth enveloped you both, so did Joe’s feelings intensify. He pursed his lips, flexing his hands as he tried to control the impulse to kiss you, to shove you against the wall and take you.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you turned to face him. It was just you two, standing in the hallway. Everyone else had gone ahead.

“Yeah?” you prompted, watching him. You picked out uncertainty in his eyes, the way his lips were tightly pressed together. Something was weighing heavy on him. But he looked at you, his eyes blank, his face pale. He forgot the words. His tongue was thick, like cotton in his mouth.

“Nothing, I’ll see you later,” he smiled, and brushed past you to the locker room. His heart hammered in his chest and his palms were sweaty. His mind was in a fog, consumed at the thought of you. He chickened out, and he’d beat himself up about it for the rest of the day.

You were left standing, confused and empty. You watched as he left, his form retreating down the hallway before he disappeared. Part of you hoped, based off of the look in his eyes, that he’d tell you that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Part of you hoped that he’d say something, but he didn’t.

You walked back to your office, a smaller room along a hallway. You unlocked your door, walking in to the warmer room. Your desk was in front of you, a window behind it, letting soft light into the room. Two guest chairs stood in front of your desk, and a small table held a coffee maker.

It was the bare minimum, but you were lucky you had an office.

You set the bag down, sitting down at your computer. You needed to write your reports, to check reports that have been submitted, but you couldn’t focus. Your mind drifted to Joe, to his eyes, to how he so easily talked to you, his arms, his thighs.

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes.

You opened up your emails, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts of Joe. He was your coworker, not someone to become romantically involved with. No matter how he made you feel, no matter how attractive he was.

You didn’t know how much you got done, but your eyes never left your laptop until you heard a knock on your door. Your eyes lifted from your laptop, watching as Joe opened your door. His hair was wet, his skin a warm tan. He was dressed comfortably; sweats and a sweatshirt.

“What’s up?” you asked, pursing your lips.

“I just wanted to stop by before I left,” he said, stepping into your office and softly shutting the door behind him. His heart slammed against his chest. He was only ever nervous around you, except when it came to practice. He was in his element, he knew what he was doing and that distracted him from you. Now, as he stood in your office, he didn’t have his football knowledge to back him up.

“Oh,” you smiled, “is there something bothering you?” you asked him, concern furrowing your brow. You couldn’t think that Joe would come and see you for any other reason than football, or his wrist. He wouldn’t come and see you because he wanted to.

“Yeah, can you check my wrist before I go?” he asked you. He didn’t need his wrist checked. He was totally fine. He’s been fine for weeks.

“Sure, yeah,” you stood up, meeting him in the center of your office, “but I thought you’ve been fine for weeks,” you hummed as you took his extended wrist.

“I was, but it felt really tight after my shower,” he swallowed. Your soft hands against his wrist, the way your fingers gently pressed to see where his supposed pain was, it sent shocks throughout his body.

“Ok,” you hummed, turning over his wrist. You didn’t see any swelling, you didn’t feel any heat, and he didn’t react to your pressure.

“I don’t feel anything,” you told him, meeting his eyes, “there isn’t obvious pain,” you added, but as your eyes met, tension buzzed between you. Your stomach twisted, your heart skipped a beat. You fought the urge to look at his lips.

“That’s good,” he sighed, nodding his head. He could feel the tension, the way you looked at him, the way his heart skipped beats. He inhaled deeply to try and control his breathing. His free hand, with a slight tremble, reached up and caressed your cheek. His light touch sent shivers down your spine, and as much as you should fight it, you didn’t. You stepped closer to him, keeping your eyes on him.

He softly placed his lips on yours, and for a moment you stiffened. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, to do the very thing you’ve wanted to do for a while. He parted from you, feeling you stiffen.

“I’m sorry-” he was interrupted by your hands grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt, pulling his lips to yours with a hunger like no other. He immediately kissed you back, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You tasted sweet and it made his body thrum with his need for you. The need he’s been shoving aside for months.

Your lips danced together with a roughness and passion you’ve never experienced. Your hands looped around his neck, keeping yourself as close as you could be to him. His hunger for you could be felt as his hands moved to grip your hips. He began walking you back, keeping his lips on yours. When your hips hit your desk, you gasped, and it allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth. You moaned as his tongue explored your mouth tasting more of you.

He slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He panted, his breath fanning your face.

“Is the door locked?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know, why?”

“Because we’re gonna need it to be,” you hummed, the look in your eyes telling him all he needed to know. He’s never locked a door so fast in his life. He came back over, and smashed his lips back to yours with a newfound hunger. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt, and in that moment, you were glad that door was locked. You were also glad you were an athletic trainer; you’d need to be able to do your own stretches later when he took your ability to walk.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine

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itsbeeble · 24 days ago

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My Kink Is Karma

Summary: Sunwoo breaking up with you after three happy years was not on your bingo card. It's a good thing you believe in karma.

Genre: smut

Pairing: Kim Sunwoo x fem!reader

WC: 7.2k

THE BOYZ Masterlist MAIN Masterlist

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie @captain-brie

FIC TAGLIST: @sanaxo-o @from-izzy

WARNINGS: not edited at all tbh so please lmk if there's something that needs adjusting, Sunwoo kinda shitty in this, infidelity, credit card fraud (?), theft, oral (m and f receiving), making out, marking, p in v sex, overstimulation, swearing, a little bit of degradation, hair pulling, face sitting, fingering, and of course karma

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: i miss being good at writing smut. Anyway enjoy this! Izzy has waited far too long and i'm sorry pookie :( I hope this is worth the wait

Sunwoo kicking you out on a random Tuesday afternoon hadn’t quite been what you planned for. In fact, you feel like you’ve been completely blindsided. Things had been going strong for almost three years— decent communication, his parents loved you, your parents loved him, and the sex was to die for. You had a shared group of friends, all of whom thought they would see the day you would get married if you could ever scrape together the money for it. You were young, sure, but you knew you loved him and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, even if it meant spending your life savings on a cheap wedding and living in your parent’s basement for the next ten years.

It was humiliating for you and him, the way you clutched at his knees with mascara running down your cheeks, begging him not to do this. Not to leave you like this. Things were good, you thought things were perfect. Was it work? Was he stressed from work? Or, maybe, it was a prank. Something that Eric put him up to.

No, it’s just not working out. You had to leave, pack your things and leave the fucking apartment that was in your name just because he wasn’t as in love with you as you were with him.

Alas, here you were six weeks later, refreshed and over that bullshit relationship with your best friend who practically saved your ass with some speech about karma.

The nail salon is practically buzzing with life, techs and customers alike skirting through the small building in a blur of motion. You watch each person carefully, gnawing on your lip and tapping your feet against the tiled ground. Nervous habits that you had never been able to shake. Normally, a steady hand would be on your thigh or across your shoulders to calm you.

That steady hand, however, is no longer an option.

“You hear what’s going on with Sunwoo?” Hyori’s eyes turn to meet yours, the nail tech in front of her gently grabbing her hand to apply a fresh set of blue polish. You kiss your teeth, biting your tongue to hold back a stinging reply.

“Why would I care what that piece of shit does?”

Clearly, that doesn’t work very well. It does, however, bring you quite a bit of pain due to the sharpness of your teeth and the force you use to try and hold back the venom in your tone. The nail tech looks up briefly, breaking her focus on painting your stiletto-shaped nails dark green. You can feel the curiosity, the itch for drama in those eyes. Lucky for her, you’re in a very…dramatic mood, aching for a bit of karma.

“Well, I mean, he did leave you homeless, took your credit cards and ran you into debt that your parents very graciously paid off, fucked your sister…need I go on?” Hyori’s nail tech snaps her head up, eyes wide.

“That explains why I shouldn’t give a fuck. Why should I?”

“Well,” Hyori straightens in her chair, smiling so wide that you’re sure her cheeks are stinging. “I hear that he’s fuckin losing it lately. Like, destroyed his apartment so bad that the landlord kicked him out and he had to move back in with his parents.”

Your jaw drops open, an appalled noise coming out of your mouth. Some sort of half-laugh-half-scoff sort of noise that has heads turning in your direction.

“No way.”

“Mhm, apparently he was also getting with this girl who was, like, eighteen based on what Yerim told me.”

“Bitch, you better be joking right now,” you scoff. “What a fucking weirdo.”

“Don’t quote me on that,” Hyori shrugs. “You know that Yerim is notoriously unreliable.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Remember the whole pickle situation?”

“Fuck, don’t remind me,” Hyori groans, leaning her head back on her chair. “I genuinely couldn’t leave my house for weeks after that— I was so embarrassed.”

“You and me both, girl.”

It gets quiet for a moment, both of you thinking about the question but not wanting to be the first to ask it. The nail techs, in this silence, are able to finish both of your nails and usher you off to pay. You can tell, just by looking back at them as you leave the building, that they’re just a bit pissed about not hearing the full story, about not hearing what you’re going to do about this whole thing.

“So,” Hyori sighs as you slide into her passenger seat, “what are you gonna do?”

“C’mon, Hyori…” you click your tongue, voice trailing off as you mull over your options. “You should know by now that I tend to make sure karma bites people right in the ass.”

“You and your fucking kinks, girl,” Hyori scrunches her nose, laughing quietly to herself. “Let me guess, you’re gonna make damn sure he knows he fucked up by fucking his best friend?”

“Eric? Nah, the kid’s cute but not my type.”

“I’m shocked, truly,” Hyori remarks. “What’ll you do then?” “You’ll find out soon enough, trust me.”

You never admit to Hyori just how much it turns you on that Sunwoo’s life is falling apart. You never told her how much you loved it when he crumbled and begged and pleaded for something. It was a secret, one that only you and Sunwoo knew about and that you ensured stayed between just the two of you before you left for good.

You most certainly don’t tell Hyori about how you touched yourself to the thought of him almost every night. How you thought about Sunwoo and only Sunwoo when you slept with a man. How no dates ever lasted that long because you always ended up comparing to how Sunwoo used to be. If she found out how you still wanted him, how you wished he would come crawling back to you even if it was just for one night, she would kill you on the spot.

The next time you hear about Sunwoo is exactly two months after your breakup. However, it’s less you hearing about him than it is hearing from him. You thought you’d blocked his number after the first week when Hyori had caught you drunk calling his phone, begging for him to come back to you and to try and make things work. Pathetic is what she’d called you when you’d burst into tears. Desperate is what you’d called yourself when she crushed it under her stiletto. He’d cheated on you, not the other way around, so why were you so desperate for him to forgive you?

Your good friend, Karma, seems to have hit him. His texts had been nonstop since the night before, and phone calls streaming in soon after that never seemed to end.

The first stream of texts were clearly drunk messages:

HFy bsby, plekde clal mfe

Im spory

Seh wasnt wothr if

Babyyyyyyyyy

Then came the voicemails, ones that you keep just for the future:

Hiiiiii baby! I miss you sooooo much, please call me back!

I know that I messed up, but I wanna make it work for us. The sex isn’t the same with her and no one could ever reaaaalllyyyy make me feel like you did. God, that tongue trick where you—”

The audio for that one cuts out, and you can only assume that his friends caught him in time. Something swirls through your gut like a snake—pride, perhaps. Something smug, knowing that you have made him just as desperate as you were. Another emotion curls around you, closer to sorrow knowing that you can’t have him anymore. You won’t have him. Not after what he did to you.

Your phone dings with another text and you put it on silent. The nail tech across from you, the same woman as last time, eyes it carefully.

“That the boy you broke up with?” She asks, painting your nails cherry red. You decided to keep the stiletto shape, loving the sharpness of it and how it accents each outfit you wear.

“Yeah,” you sigh and relax your hands a bit. “Hasn’t shut up since last night.”

“Why haven’t you blocked him yet?” She taps your palm and you slide your hand into the UV light.

“I dunno,” you shrug. Truly you don’t know the answer to that question. Do you miss him? After everything he did, do you really still love him?

“Hm,” The woman huffs and you sink back in your chair. “You should find out.”

“Hello?” Your phone sits on the counter as you cook dinner for yourself. Hyori is gone for the night, something about a date.

“Y/N!” The cheery voice of your ex-boyfriend catches you off guard and the spatula in your hand drops to the counter. “How are you?”

“What the actual fuck?” You turn off the stove, walk over to where your phone is, and stare down at it with nothing but shock on your face. “Why the fuck are you calling me, Kim Sunwoo?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says as if stating the obvious. “Why else would I call?” The amusement in his voice makes your eyes twitch and your teeth grind against each other.

“Is this some sort of sick joke? Did Eunbi put you up to this?” The feeling of your sister’s name leaves a bad taste in your mouth and you have to fight back a gag, placing the back of your hand over your lips.

“Eunbi?” Sunwoo sounds confused now and you can practically see the pout on his plush lips. The same lips that used to—

Down girl.

“Yeah, Eunbi.” You pick at a string on your t-shirt and huff. “My sister. The one you fucked in our bed? Remember her?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line and the the speaker crackles like Sunwoo breathed into it.

“Right. Eunbi. I forgot about that.”

Rage cracks through your veins, sending sparks through your body and your face begins to burn with it.

“You forgot that you fucked my sister?” You’re seething, your heart pounding and your breathing rapid. “Are you fucking kidding me, Sunwoo?”

“Listen,” he drags the syllables out like he had made just a simple mistake. “I only fucked her one time and she wasn’t even that good. I want you, Y/N. Just you.”

You scoff. “Well, you should have thought about that before screwing her and fucking up my credit cards, bitch.”

“Yeah, that I don’t have a defense for,” he sighs again, and there’s a rustling on his end of the line as if he’s adjusting his position or clothing. The burning in your cheeks eases as the silence goes on for a few minutes.

“Why did you call me, Sunwoo?”

“I wanted to talk,” he says simply. “Can you open the door now?”

Your body tenses when three knocks sound at your door. No fucking way did he show up here. For a few seconds, you refuse to move, rooted to your spot in the kitchen and reaching slowly to the knife holder next to you.

“Don’t reach for the knives, babe.” Sunwoo scolds and you drop your hand back to your side. “It was just me and I know you get nervous when you’re home alone.” The anger returns to your body in full swing and you slap your finger down on the red button to hang up. Your footsteps are so loud as you walk to the door that you know the downstairs neighbors will be pissed in a few minutes, but you can’t find yourself really caring about what they think about you.

The lock clicks and you swing the door open, stopping it just before it slams against the wall that you really can’t afford to fix at the moment.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snap, and Sunwoo grins sheepishly at you. Fuck, he looks good. Too good. Pathetic, maybe, but still good. His jeans hang low on his waist, showing the band of his underwear, and his black shirt has had the sleeves cut off and the hem potentially burned based on how messy it is. His shoes are stained and your nose curls at the mystery colors that could either be crayons or some sort of food he got at a club. You really aren’t sure which; not that you care anyway.

What really gets you is his hair. When you broke up, it had been naturally black and curly. You loved running your hands through it at the end of the night, loved yanking on it to force his lips to move to your clit when he ate you out. It was arguably your favorite feature about him aside from those wide, gorgeous eyes. When you look at him now, his hair is streaked with blond, sloppily done as if he’d done it at home with a grocery bag, cheap bleach, and a few beers on a Monday night. Your stomach churns, but not with anger this time. You recognize the feeling of arousal that pours through your veins and nearly washes away the rage entirely.

“I told you I wanted to talk,” he digs his stained shoes into the dirty rug at the entryway, not looking you in the eyes. “You were ignoring my calls and messages, so I figured I’d stop by and see you. I miss you.”

The pout on his lips is what makes you cave, and you step to the side to allow him into the apartment. You watch him carefully as he tugs his shoes off, letting him gaze around at your new (hopefully) temporary home.

“Cute place you got here—”

“Cut the crap, Sunwoo.” Before I cave and kiss you senseless like a fucking moron. “You wanted to talk. What about?”

He gestures to the couch, pursing his lips as you move past him to take a seat as far from him as possible. It’s tense, the air thick with words that will remain unsaid as long as you can help it. It’s hard to control yourself, though. Hard to keep strong like Hyori taught you when the man you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with is sitting right there looking just so…

Fuckable.

Fuck, maybe you’re just desperate.

“I…” Sunwoo fidgets with his hands, looking down at his lap for a moment. “God this is harder than I thought it would be.”

You soften just a bit, your body sinking into the couch and your legs tucking underneath you.

“I wanted to apologize,” he finally gets out with a tight smile. “For, well, everything. You didn’t deserve how I treated you. I shouldn’t have…slept with Eunbi, and I definitely shouldn’t have run you into debt. It was horrible of me, and I’m sorry.”

You kiss your teeth and he looks at you hopefully. “It was really shitty, Sunwoo. We were together for three years.”

“I know,” he turns fully toward you and reaches forward to take your hands in his. “And I’m sorry.” You search his eyes for a hint of anything that might tell you otherwise.

A smile spreads across your lips when you find exactly what you’re looking for.

Lust. Desperation. The exact emotions that you’d been feeling for the two months it had been since you’d broken up. And, with those emotions found and locked into your brain, you know exactly how to play with him.

“Sunwoo,” you coo and he jumps at the sudden switch of attitude. Your hands pull from his and you let them dance across his thighs. His eyes flick down, watching your hands and trailing up your body ever so slowly and eventually meeting your eyes. “You really mean it, baby?”

His cheeks darken, his lips parting in awe as you lean toward him, your breath fanning his face and sending shivers down his spine.

“Baby,” Sunwoo’s palm comes to rest on your hip, his thumb sliding under your shirt and rubbing gentle circles. “I don’t— are you— I mean aren’t you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry,” you shrug but the smile remains on your lips. Slowly, you begin to move your hand from his thigh to his crotch and press down just enough for his breath to hitch. “That’s why I want you to fuck me.”

He doesn’t move, his hand frozen on your hip, unsure of what to do and how to proceed. Your lips are centimeters from his, your eyes half-lidded and waiting for him to move. He continues to stay frozen, his breath uneven and heavy, so you kiss him. Hard.

You kiss him like you’re drunk—messy and wet, just as you know he likes it. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, pushing at his and forcing him into action. Your heart leaps at the feeling of his hands yanking you into his lap and his chest rumbling with a low groan. His lips move against yours with just as much passion and ferocity, his tongue flicking against yours and shoving past it to try and breach your mouth. He’s holding you so tight, his head shoving forward so you’re forced to lean back, but you’re not one to let him win so you push him back, grabbing his hair in one hand and yanking at the strands until he’s whining your name.

“What, baby?” You coo, pulling away from his lips and licking at the string of spit that connects your lips. “Don’t you like it when I pull your hair?”

Experimentally, you pull again and Sunwoo’s jaw drops open with an airy moan. “Mm, that’s what I thought.”

You connect with him again, biting and sucking and licking at them, enjoying the sounds he makes while he tries to kiss you back. His hands are squeezing your hips so tightly, pulling you down to grind against his jean-clad cock. If he can’t kiss you, he’s gonna make damn sure that you have a hard time focusing. Unfortunately for him, you know all of his tricks. You know exactly what he does and when he does it. For example, if you suck at the skin just beneath his jaw, right next to his Adam’s apple, he lets out such pretty whines.

“Baby,” he gasps out, hips jumping into yours. “Fuck, w-why do you have to k-know me so well?” You just laugh, sucking at the soft skin until it’s practically bruised. Pleased with your work, you bite down just enough for him to yelp before pulling back to admire it.

“You know me, Woo,” you purr, leaning forward again to lick a stripe up his neck and to his lips. They part, his mouth opening for you to lean over and gently kiss him with your tongue delicately brushing against his. Although maybe delicate isn’t quite the right word seeing as the moment your tongue is in his mouth, he starts to suck at it. One of his hands slides from your hip to tangle in your hair, holding you close to him as he sucks at the pink muscle and ruts his hips up into yours. You gasp quietly, just enough for it to get his attention. Sunwoo’s eyes are screwed shut, his hands holding you so tight that you’re afraid you’ll be bruised in the morning.

Who are you kidding, though?

If you aren’t bruised in the morning, you may just kick him out.

“Sunwoo,” you murmur but your words are muffled. He just groans, pulling you closer if it was even possible. “Sunwoo, baby. We’re not fucking on Hyori’s couch.”

“Then we’ll take the floor,” he grunts, pulling away in annoyance. “I haven’t had good sex in two months, I’m not wasting any fucking time on switching rooms.”

You scoff. “I’m not fucking you in my living room.”

He goes to argue with you, but you’re already moving off his lap. “You can’t be serious, baby.” There’s a challenge in your eyes as you reach for the hem of your shirt. Any arguments he may have had are gone the second your shirt hits the ground, your breasts sitting so nicely on your chest with no bra to hide them from his view.

“I’m very serious, Sunwoo.” Your hands move to the band of your shorts, the corner of your lips pulled into a smirk as you slowly pull them down your legs until you’re able to step out of them. As if in a trance, Sunwoo slowly rises to his feet, dragging forward until he’s merely a foot away from you. He reaches a hand out to grab you, but you take a step back. His brows furrow and he tries again but you’re still backing away from him. His trance seems to hold, much to your amusement, watching your breasts bounce with every step away from him until you reach your bedroom.

“You knew that would work.” Sunwoo pouts, but it’s quick to turn into a grin when you finally let him touch you. Immediately he pushes you down onto the mattress, crawling over you until you’re caged beneath him, your eyes wide with lust and anticipation while he tries to figure out where to start. “Fuck, been too long since I’ve seen these pretty tits.”

Your thighs rub together and you draw your bottom lip between your teeth as he shifts down your body until he’s face to face with your chest.

He’s a millimeter away from wrapping his lips around one of your nipples when you suddenly grab his hair and yank him back up, keeping his face in front of yours as you shift onto your knees.

“What the fuck?” He whines, eyes glassy and confused. “What’d you do that for?”

“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, did you?” You pout at him, mocking him, and his cheeks flush. “After everything you put me through, did you really think I’d make it so easy to get me again?”

“Well, I mean,” Sunwoo gulps, letting out a grunt when you pull his hair again. “Fucking— If you keep doing that, baby, I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants—” You just laugh at him, your eyes gleaming.

“You think a little begging is gonna stop me, Woo? What if,” you lean down until your lips brush against his ear, “I want you to do it?”

Another yank at his hair and his whole body shudders, his hips jerking violently into yours and his mouth dropping open. Loud moans leave his mouth, a bit of drool seeping out of the corner of his lips that you’re quick to swoop down and lick up.

You loved toying with him like this. You loved watching as he desperately tries to hold it together, to keep himself from cumming in his pants like a teenage boy but failing miserably at just one faint touch from you. Your hand falls from his hair, sliding down to his shoulder so you can push him to lie down on your mattress. He lets you, his eyes dazed and confused by what just happened to him but still staring at you with awe.

“You know what you can do to make it up to me, Sunwoo?” You slide his shirt up his torso and he follows your movements, grabbing the fabric once it gets too high and tugging it over his head.

“I’ll do anything, baby, please,” Sunwoo squeezes at your hips and pulls you down over his likely overstimulated cock. “Tell me what to do to make it better.”

“Let me sit on your face,” you purr, “eat me out like the good boy you are. If you make me squirt, I’ll even suck you off before I fuck you.”

“I thought I was fucking you?” Sunwoo cocks an eyebrow and you kiss your teeth.

“Who says both can’t happen?” You retort, shifting your body until your dripping cunt is positioned right over his mouth. “Now get going before I change my mind and you have to fuck a pillow instead.”

Sunwoo wastes no time, his hands coming to grip your hips and pulling you down so you’re fully seated over his mouth. The motion earns him a quiet gasp, one of your hands coming to tangle in his messy hair and the other gripping your headboard. You’re more turned on than you’d let him believe, your cunt practically dripping into his open mouth, and Sunwoo’s body shudders at the familiar taste. You haven’t changed in the eight weeks it’s been since he left you, and neither has he. Truly he missed you, missed the way your body practically molded to his, missed the sounds you made, the way you spoke to him. Fuck, he felt like he was gonna burst in his pants if he wasn’t careful.

Your hips rock into his tongue, forcing the muscle to dip into you just a little more, dipping into your hole before swiping up to your clit. Sunwoo had, when you first started dating, developed this little pattern when he ate you out. He would drag his tongue as far down as he could, slowly work his way up until he found your clit, and would suck and lick and bite at the little nub until you were quivering and begging and soaking his face. He did this over and over, however this time it was different. He worked slowly, letting you work your hips over his face and letting you set the pace. His tongue laves over your clit with no sense of urgency, no hunger. His lips hardly move, but you can feel the way his breathing stutters and you can hear all of his little gasps and whines

Frankly, it pissed you off.

You wanted him to try to take over. You wanted him to try to dominate you, to drive you wild, to rough you up like he always wanted. Here you were giving him free reign to do whatever he would like, and he’s not taking it.

It’s not like him, and it pisses you off so you lift your hips off his face, rolling off his body until you’re sat next to him with a scowl permanently etched into your face. Sunwoo looks up at you, lips contorted into a pout and his eyes fully dazed with confusion.

“Why’d you pull away?” His voice pitches into a whine, his hands reach to grab at your hips and pull you back over him.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” You scoff, leaning back against your headboard and watching him rise onto his knees to look at you.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He leans toward you, hand resting on your thigh, and you smack it away.

“Don’t fucking touch me unless you’re gonna make it worth it for me!” You snap, beginning to slide off the bad.

In that split second, it’s like something clicks in Sunwoo. His pout transforms into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something sly. He follows you off the bed, moving so fast that you could barely blink before you were pinned against your dresser, his hand on the back of your neck and the sound of his belt being undone fills your ears.

“You’ve always been such a brat, haven’t you?” He leans in close, his lips brushing the skin between your shoulder blades. You struggle against him, pushing your hands against the dresser to force him back, but he’s stronger than you and forces you back down until you let your body become limp and pliant in his hold. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”

“Fuck you,” you writhe beneath him, the hand not holding you down sliding down your back and cupping your ass in his palm. “Let me go, Kim Sunwoo.”

He kisses his teeth, and you can practically hear the way he smiles smugly at you. “Is that really how you want to talk to me? After all, I’m practically in control of your pleasure here.”

“I can take care of myself just fine.” You retort and turn your head to attempt a glare in his direction.

“You and I both know that you don’t get nearly enough satisfaction without me,” Sunwoo purrs, squeezing the flesh of your ass in his large hand before slipping his fingers down to your sopping wet heat. “You never have.”

He’s right, but you’d rather take a lifetime of nearly worthless orgasms than admit it to his stupid face. Your eyelids flutter when his fingers dip into you, pushing at your pulsing walls and stretching out your cunt to his liking. It’s as if he knows you like the back of his hand.

Scratch that.

Sunwoo does, annoyingly, know you like the back of his hand. Emotionally, physically, any way he could possibly learn. He knew that you loved how it felt when he bit down on the junction between your collarbone and your throat. He knew that you loved when he was rough with you— pulling your hair, spanking you, choking you, bruising your hips with his fingers. He practically marked it in his brain every little sweet spot you had.

So yeah, when he plunges his fingers deep inside you and curls them towards your front wall, just brushing against that sweet spot inside of you and practically forcing a loud moan from your body, you’re a bit peeved. Your whole fucking plan going out the window because your loser of an ex-boyfriend just happens to know you better than you want him to. Why did you have to date him for so long?

“Fuck,” you hiss out and roll your hips back against his hand. “Fuck, Sunwoo, why are you so-o good with your hands?” You stutter, much to your own dismay, and he drops his head against your shoulder.

“Taught only by the best, sweetheart.” His other hand swoops around your front, his index and middle fingers driving against your clit roughly until you’re squirming and crying for him, your head falling against the dresser and your legs threatening to collapse. Sunwoo pulls moan after moan, sob after sob, any noise he knows you can make. He pulls them all from within you until your throat is raw and threatening to crack. “Gonna cum? Gonna cum for your ex-boyfriend, Y/N? What a sick little girl you are— dripping all over my hands, moaning for the man who fucked your life up. Do you feel dirty? Do you know how filthy you are?”

You arch your back against him, tears springing to your eyes as he drives you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“G-gonna cum, Sunwoo,” you gasp out, “fuck, gonna cum all over your hands like a dirty little slut!”

Sunwoo stumbles over his movements for a second, only briefly surprised by your words before he’s picking the pace back up. “That’s right, beautiful. You’re a dirty little slut, huh? You’re my dirty little slut.”

Your walls tense around his fingers, so tight he can barely hold his pace, and your eyes squeeze shut. A sharp bite of pain fills your veins as you bite down on your lip, drawing a bit of blood as you try desperately to hold back the sounds that you know he’s trying to pull out of you. You fail, whining his name and reaching a hand back to tangle in his hair, yanking at the strands as you cum. Your walls flutter around his fingers, your cunt gushing with your slick and dripping down his hand. Sunwoo draws his fingers out of you, leaving you empty but not without the feeling of his other hand rubbing at your clit. The pleasure is overrun with overstimulation, an ache that turns your cries into quiet sobs.

“Sun-Sunwoo,” you plead, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Unfortunately, you find yourself still trapped between his larger body and the wooden dresser. “Pl-please, ‘s too m-much!”

“Oh, is it?” he coos in your ear, nipping lightly at the skin beneath it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t realize you wanted me to stop.”

When he finishes his sentence he all but rips his hand away from you. Your body immediately falls slack, your arms barely having the strength to catch you as your ex-boyfriend pulls away and works at his belt. Sunwoo watches your trembling body, the smug glint in his eye returning.

“You’re an…an asshole.” Your teeth grit together as you stumble over to him, gripping his jaw in your hand and squeezing tightly. “A true asshole, Kim Sunwoo.”

His body falls back, his hands going from his belt to your waist as you work at the button of his pants. “You love me, though.”

You scoff, “you think I still love you?”

His eyebrow quirks. “Don’t you? Why else would I be here, in your bed, on a random night months after we broke up.” Sunwoo lifts his hips as he speaks, allowing you to pull his clothing down just enough to get his rock-hard cock out.

“Because I haven’t had a good fuck since we broke up,” you say simply, hissing as you sink down on him. You’d dated him for three years and even after all that time, the sting that came with fucking him never went away. “Shit, forgot how big you were.”

His grip on your waist tightens, his jaw ticking as your hips meet his. “And I forgot how tight your little pussy was. Guess we’re both taking a little trip down— son of a bitch—”

Sunwoo cuts himself off with a loud groan as you clench around him, lifting your hips slowly before dropping back down with a loud smack of skin against skin.

“Were you saying something?” Your words come out breathy, a quiet whine following soon after as you begin to grind yourself down on Sunwoo’s cock.

“You’re a fucking menace,” Sunwoo grunts, his eyes squeezing shut and his body going completely slack. His fingers slip from your waist, instead resting on the sides of your thighs. He lets you take control, lets you take as much as you want from him. “I missed you, missed your fucking cunt.” A tight squeeze against your skin before his jaw falls open and loud moans fill the air. You can’t bring yourself to laugh, your focus entirely on holding a steady pace and drawing the knot in your stomach back into place. The sting in your thighs is almost unbearable, almost too much for you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t finish what you started.

Your hands find purchase on Sunwoo’s chest, your dark green nails digging into his chest and breaking the skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, you raise your hips again and let them fall. His tip punches into the sweetest spot inside of you, pushing against it over and over as you repeat your motions. You let your body sink forward, your chest against his and your faces mere centimeters away from each other. You’re so close that you can see the tiny beads of sweat beginning to form on his face, the way his eyelashes flutter.

“Such a pretty boy, hm?” You murmur, dipping your head down and licking away a bead of sweat on his jawline. “So pretty, so good for me.” Your walls flutter again and Sunwoo wwhines, taking hold of your ass with both hands.

“C-can’t—” Sunwoo gasps out, but his words become choked moans. “Fuck, you- you feel t-too good.”

You laugh, sucking a hickey into his golden skin, biting at the purple mark when you’re finished. “Only the best for you, baby.”

His hips begin to thrust into yours, his hands holding your body in place as he chases an orgasm that’s so close that he can practically taste it. You watch as his eyes roll back, your own drifting shut as you let pleasure overcome you again. He doesn’t stop, and you don’t want him to, even when liquid spurts out of you and coats his lower body, your sheets, and everything beneath the two of you. Even when his cum drips out of you in thick white globs and smears against your skin. He doesn’t stop until his hips are jerking and not a single drop of cum can be pulled from his cock.

Your body is shaking, but you find enough strength to pull your body away from his, sinking to your knees in front of him. Sunwoo can barely lift his head to watch you, his hand lacing into your hair as you take his softening cock into your mouth and suck gently at it, moaning at the taste of your cum mixing together, You place your hands on both of his thighs, sucking and licking until there’s nothing left, leaving him half-hard and twitching in your mouth.

“You’re fucking insatiable, sweetheart,” Sunwoo moans so prettily, trying to tug you off of him. You giggle, letting him pull you off but dropping your head to give his balls the same attention you’d given his cock. “Son of a— baby, baby wait—”

You pull off him when he says that, laying your cheek on his thigh and watch him try to catch his breath. His chest heaves, his grip on your hair tightening and loosening repeatedly in an attempt to ground himself.

“Had enough?” Your lips press against his warm skin and he scoffs.

“You’re terrible.”

“Mm…is that so?” you press another kiss and he sits up, sliding his hand from your hair to your chin and grabbing it between his thumb and pointer to pull you toward him.

“I fucking love you.” The kiss he gives you is hot, wet, and messy. His tongue dips into your mouth pushing further and further until he’s practically in your throat before pulling back and staring down at you. “My little minx.”

You smile, eyes fluttering when he closes the gap between your mouths again.

“What the fuck? Sunwoo stares at you from the couch cushion, eyes narrowed into a glare. “You’re— what the fuck?”

“I want you out of my apartment.” You shrug, crossing your arms as you sip at your coffee. “Simple as that.”

“But I—” he shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes as he tries to comprehend what you’re saying. “I thought that you— I thought we had a good time. I thought you…that you wanted me back. I don’t— I don’t understand.”

“You thought I wanted you back?” You scoff, lips twitching into a smirk. “What gave you that idea?”

“Maybe the fact that you said you did!”

You kiss your teeth and set your coffee down on the counter behind you. Sunwoo watches your every move, feet tapping against the carpet beneath him.

“Sunwoo, do you know what my favorite kink is?”

“I don’t fucking know, somnophilia?”

You can’t help but laugh at his response, tilting your head back and putting a hand on your chest. Sunwoo, however, isn’t laughing. He looks at you with confusion and anger, a mix of emotions you can relate to all too well.

“You’re so funny, baby.” You’re close enough now that you’re able to sit beside him and let your hand tangle in his hair. You practically straddle him, one leg thrown across his lap and your lips sucking at his neck, adding to the…decorations you had left the night before. “But no, it’s not. Close!”

He leans into your touch, although it may be a bit reluctantly if the look on his face is anything to go off of.

“What is it, then? Hm? What, do you have some sort of like, secret piss kink?” He pulls your face toward his, kissing you and almost making you doubt your decision.

“Ew, Sunwoo,” you wrinkle your nose, scratching your nails lightly on the back of his neck and relishing in the goosebumps forming under your skin. “Karma. That’s my favorite kink.”

“And why is that?” He noses at your jawline. “Why would you wish karma on me, hm? Don’t you like how I touch you?” You tilt your head back, humming as he mouths at your throat.

“Of course I do,” you admit. “But I also have self-respect. And you fucked my sister.” He tenses, pulling back from you.

“I thought you were over that?”

“Why would I get over you fucking my sister?” you smack the back of his head and stand from the couch. “You’re a fucking idiot, Kim Sunwoo, and I truly hope I never see your face again.”

“You can’t be serious.” He’s standing too, reaching a hand toward you in a desperate attempt to get you to talk to him. “C’mon, baby. Isn’t this too much? We would be so happy together!”

“We tried that once before,” you push him back, forcing him closer to the door. “And it didn’t end well.”

“I made a mistake, so what?!” He snaps, almost dropping his shoes as you shove them into his arms. “I admit it! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have cheated on you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I want you to get the fuck out of my apartment and never speak to me again, actually.” You open the door, waving your hand in a shooing motion. “Bye now!”

He tries to speak again, but the door slamming in his face stops him. You breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the cold metal, and close your eyes.

“He took that shockingly well,” the door of Hyori’s room clicks shut as she steps into the living room, and you open your eyes to look at her. You smirk a bit, letting your body relax.

“I expected him to try fucking me again.”

“Honestly so did I,” she hands you the mug of coffee you’d set down and takes her seat on the couch. “Was it worth it?”

“Hm?” You tilt your head.

“You know,” she waves her hand at the door. “That. Was fucking him and kicking him out really worth it?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I at least got some good shit out of it.”

“A good fuck.” Hyori agrees.

“And some money.” You smile, that same smug smile that Sunwoo had been flashing you all night. It was almost uncanny, and you watch Hyori’s nose wrinkle.

“He paid you?”

“Ew, no, I realize that came out wrong.”

“Oh,” she sighs. “Thank god, I thought I would have to smack some sense into you and then take the money for myself.”

“No, never like that.” You shake your head and smile. “More like the money that was in his wallet.”

Hyori barks out a laugh. “Yeah, right. You had the time to get the money from his wallet between everything that…that was happening…” she trails off, sinking back in her cushion as you pull a massive wad of cash and a credit card out of the drawer in the side table next to you. “Holy shit, how did you…how did he not notice?”

“I’m a very good distraction,” you shrug.

“Why did you…why the fuck did you do that?” She’s appalled and, for the record, you completely understand why. However, you have a perfectly good reason.

You only shrug in response to her question.

“Isn’t it obvious? Karma.”

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 16 days ago

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Something cold, sweet and delicious

Written for the January 2025 round of the @steddiemicrofic challenge, and for the @steddiebingo

Rated: E

Words: 517

Prompts: New, Clothed Sex (Countdown to Midnight bonus card), Quickie (round one main card)

Tags: Pre-S4; Scoops!Steve; Eddie is a little shit; Sexual tensionn; Fuck buddies; Angry sex; Clothed Sex; Bathroom sex; Semi-public sex

“Ahoy, Stevie!”

Eddie breezes through the door, reveling in the look of abject horror that replaces the smile on Steve's face. The girl he's been whispering with whirls around. “So the rumors are true. The new outfit looks lovely on you.”

Steve flushes almost as red as the tie of his cute little sailor suit - the very shade that Eddie likes to tell himself is reserved for him alone - but refuses to acknowledge him.

“Anyhow,” he tells the girl, slipping the smile back on. “My break's in ten, we could-”

“Maybe some other time,” she says and picks up her shopping bag. “I'll see you around.”

Steve watches her slip into the crowd of mall goers with tired resignation. Like a shipwrecked sailor seeing yet another vessel disappear on the horizon.

“Stop laughing, Munson. What do you want?”

“Take a guess, sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, not bothering to disguise his shark-like grin. “I'd like to enjoy something cold, sweet and delicious.”

He reaches over the counter to grasp at the tie. Steve jerks away. The blush deepens.

“Hands off! Are you insane?”

“What?” Eddie presses a palm to his heart. “Still ashamed of me? Kinda ironic, considering you're the one dressed like a Victorian school boy.”

Steve sputters. The family in the nearest booth looks over.

“Okay, you stupid, annoying asshole,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “How do I make you leave?”

“Well,” Eddie smirks, “I hear it's almost your break?”

Steve starts pulling off his shirt as they stumble into the bathroom, but Eddie grabs his wrists, rings leaving marks in the sensitive skin.

“Leave it on.”

Steve scoffs.

“Seriously? Does this turn you on or what? You really are a freak, huh?”

Eddie whirls him around, roughly pushing him into the next stall. Steve catches his fall by grabbing the toilet seat, and Eddie leaves him no time to get his bearings.

He yanks down the blue shorts, so hard he feels the fabric give a little, letting the rubber band snap below Steve’s buttocks and delighting in his half-pain-half-pleasure gasp.

“Oh, honey,” he purrs, pulling a pack of lube from his pocket and slicking himself up with two, three, four quick thrusts. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming. What was I supposed to do, watch you prance around in this getup and hit on everything with a pair of boobs? We both know you prefer my cock.”

Steve growls and tries to struggle, but Eddie claws one hand into his shoulder and reaches around him with the other to grab a hold of the tie, yanking him onto his cock. Steve doesn't argue after that, just moans and whines prettily until Eddie comes inside of him. It doesn’t take long.

“You really are an asshole, you know that?” Steve says as they step out into the food court, fiddling with their rumpled clothes. “Didn’t even let me come.”

“Priorities, sweetheart. Don’t want you to be late for work,” Eddie winks, straightening the sailor collar. “But if you insist, I'll wait for you in the parking lot after your shift.”

More Steddie Bingo

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddiemicrofic #hype's microfics #hype's steddie bingo #steddiebingocountdowntomidnight

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autumnmobile12 · 28 days ago

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Ambush Simulation scenario where Fuyumi and Shouto both get sick. Because if they get sick, between Touya being immunocompromised and Natsuo not living at home, Endeavor has to be the one to deal with them.

Touya: *calling from Compress' house* I don't know what to tell you, Dad. You can either make food, order food, or text Natsuo. Your call.

Endeavor: Interesting how your sister is so diligent in taking care of you during your illnesses, and yet--

Touya: Don't you fuckin' gaslight me into coming home. You know damn well if I catch whatever those two have, it might just kill me. Unless that's the goal.

Endeavor: Don't be dramatic. It's just a cold.

Touya: Yeah...the last time I had 'just a cold,' I ended up in the ER two days later with bronchitis. I won the health crisis bingo card that week.

Endeavor: Oh really, what else was on this bingo card of yours?

Touya: Bronchitis, influenza, pneumonia--

Endeavor: That doesn't start with an N.

Touya: --pneumonia, gangrene, and a nasty oropharynx infection.

Endeavor: When the hell did you have gangrene?

Touya: Turns out, that's why I needed my gallbladder removed when I was ten and you totally forgot about that, didn't you? Hey, you think the freaks who put me back together gave me a new one?

Endeavor: Goodbye, Touya.

...

The further adventures that show Touya didn't need to become a villain to torment his father. He just needed to be a pain in the ass and enjoy the fireworks. I picture him gleefully kicking his heels through that entire convo.

#my hero academia #dabi #touya todoroki #endeavor #ambush simulation #alternate universe #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #todoroki family #fuyumi todoroki #natsuo todoroki #shouto todoroki

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sandboxwritings · 5 months ago

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you know what its late and im too tired to think of words anymore so im just gonna post this wip here and go to bed

enjoy!

If there was one thing that was not on Grian's New Years' bingo card it would be growing wings. In fact, if anyone had so much as suggested it as a possibility to him he would have laughed them off, assuming it was the prelude to some strange prank. And yet, here he was two weeks into the new year with what were undoubtedly wings sprouting to either side of his spine, connecting to his shoulder blades in a way that they should not be able to.

That wasn't the only strange thing happening to him either. For one, he's lighter. Not in a diet-culture-fad or hitting the gym to meet that New Year's resolution that'll fade out in a month or so, he is just literally lighter. Less dense? Like the amount of physical space he takes up is the same but his mass is…less? Now, Grian is far from an ornithologist but he was able to quickly learn that bird bones are hollow and he does not like the implications that has for him and his new feathered existence. It does, however, mean he can jump higher, which is kind of fun to test out whenever he's taking the lift to and from his apartment unit.

It also means he's a bit more fragile than he's used to being.

Now, one might be asking, shouldn't a person who has strange growths go see a doctor immediately? And the answer is yes! Of course, and in Grian's defense, he did do that! It's not his fault that the hospital was overflowing with people at the time, most of which were in much more dire straits than he himself was and so he elected to turn around and go home. He would just go back. . . later. Eventually. He swore he would. Maybe.

Surely it would resolve itself.

That was ten days ago, before Grian's new wings had become more distinct and feathered and had only barely been strange misshapen lumps on his back. And in those ten days the entire world had changed.

An emergency notice had been sent out across the city, played on every news broadcast in the district, an alert sent to every cell phone registered to the local area code. Some strange bacteria had been discovered in the water ducts that fed into every reservoir across Hermitopia and it should be avoided at all costs. Citizens were instructed to limit skin exposure and refrain from drinking any sources of unsealed water. Stations were set up across the city to provide clean, filtered water in the meantime while the contamination was dealt with.

It was too little, far too late.

While Hermitopia was effectively put on mass lockdown, Grian's wings continued to fill out. He was almost glad for the shelter in place orders as it meant no one saw the process of his strange, wrinkly-skinned chicken wings double in size day after day. No one saw him nearly scratching the things bloody while the pin feathers grew in. No one was there to see him standing in the middle of his living room and struggling to activate muscles that hadn't existed days ago. No one else was there to look on in awe as he finally stretched both fully feathered wings out for the first time, touching wingtips to diagonal corners of the room.

Just over three weeks into the New Year, Hermitopia holds a press conference. It plays on every device from the heart of downtown to three cities over. As many have already come to realize, the contamination was more than simple bacteria in the water. It was a chemical agent, a biohazard, that was capable of adapting to and changing different forms of matter. Particularly, it changed living matter down to the DNA. Irrevocably.

The city weeps. There is fear and panic. Questions fly about what this means, what comes next, what do we do? Social media forums explode with speculation and rumors. Friends and family hold one another close amidst the chaos of a changing world.

Grian turns off his phone, sits outside on his tiny balcony, and looks at the stars. He feels the wind ruffle his feathers, feels the way it tugs at his skin, pulls him toward the edge. He flexes new muscles that support new, fragile bones.

Spreads his wings.

They say there's no better way to learn to fly. . . right?

And he jumps.

#fanfiction #wip #hotguy comics zine au #im very tired and not sure how i feel about the second half of this but im not letting myself make decisions about it until tomorrow #for now i need sleep

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irisintheafterglow · 11 months ago

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HAND ONE - HIGH CARD

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a duel is fought.

wc: 1.7k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader, first meeting, touya's sass need its own warning

note: SURPRISE !! bet iris starting another series wasn't on your 2024 bingo (it wasn't on mine) but here we are! this whole series is based on this little idea from a few months back and will include swordfighting! fake dating! mutual pining! angst! balls! (the royal kind, not,,, yk) oh and many poker metaphors lol. hope you enjoy this first little exposition chapter :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are greatly appreciated <3

You would admire the spectacle of it all, had it not been for the aching pain in your feet.

The hand-me-down heels from your estranged stepmother made it hard to focus on anything but your breathing as you tried to steady yourself against a nearby column in the palace garden. You could practically hear her shrill screaming in your ears for not doing enough to network among the other young nobles, for failing to present yourself as fit for bearing children you didn’t want. As the people you’d grown up with since birth milled about carefully-tended roses and large-bloomed peonies, you couldn’t imagine how they weren’t sweating all their caked-on makeup off in the stifling June heat. Fishing the lacy hand fan from your clutch, you relocate to a shadier side of the column under the stone walkway lining the garden. An aggressive snap echoes off nearby walls when you flick it open and sigh when the air hits your face.

“You stole my spot,” comes a smooth male voice from the other side of the column. You don’t think the person is talking to you, but then you hear an amused snicker and a small thank you to who you assume is a passing servant. It’s awkwardly silent except for faraway conversations and the breeze blown from your fan until the man clears his throat. “I’m holding out a water to you, if you would kindly look over your shoulder.” Slightly irritated by the condescending tone in his voice, you look and, sure enough, there was a cold glass of water in the stranger’s white-gloved hand. You couldn’t see his face, nor the rest of his body, but something in your gut told you that it was safe. And, if it did happen to be poisoned, at least it got you out of another season. Carefully taking the glass from his long fingers, most of the tension in your body leaves after the first few sips slide down your throat. “Refreshing?”

“Very,” you answer cordially, in that airy tone your stepmother taught you. She said it was a fine way to attract suitors, which made you want to drop your voice several octaves whenever a potential husband drew near. “Thank you. That was very kind of you, Mister…?”

“My identity is irrelevant,” he says quickly and you turn your head in his direction, as if to hear him better. “Nor will I ask of yours, so consider this conversation akin to speaking to a wall.”

“From my perspective, I am speaking to a wall,” you point out and the stranger chuckles under his breath. “May I ask why you aren’t socializing with the others?”

“I could ask the same of you, considering that you’re cowering behind a column.” The jab was evident. Your mouth drops in indignancy and, had it not been for heat exhaustion and your nice spot in the shade, you would have decked whoever was on the other side of this conversation.

“I am not cowering,” you huff, taking another sip and willing the temperature to decrease just a few degrees. “I am merely…taking a break.”

“Taking a break where no one else can find you? For ten minutes?”

“A woman values her privacy,” you argue. “And as far as I’m aware, you were able to find me quite easily. Perhaps you were the one trying to hide, and I was the one who stole your spot.”

“So, you do acknowledge that you are stealing from me.”

“Space in this garden is not something to be claimed unless you are of the royal family, dear stranger.” You hope he can hear the smirk in your tone.

“And yet, here you are, stealing what is rightfully mine.”

“And yet, here you are, stealing what is rightfully mine,” you echo in a nasally, mocking voice that would have placed you in major trouble if your parents knew how you were addressing others. “Cease your bratty ramblings as if you own this palace.” The man barks out a laugh, a reaction you didn’t anticipate. It makes your heart race a little faster, in spite of your will to stay casual.

“Have suitors ever told you that you’re quite the firecracker?”

“Bold of you to assume they get as far as to speak with me,” you correct without hesitation. Presentations were one of the stupidest parts of your present society, along with those tiny sandwiches and that tea that tastes like boiled shoes. “If they decide to pursue me, that’s their first mistake.” The stranger hums in a low tone.

“Maybe you haven’t found the right suitor, then,” he muses and, before you can answer, the royal bugles announce the beginning of the duels. Excited cheers and the clicking sound of heels on pavement take over any remaining conversations. You whirl around to the other side of the column, anxious to see the mysterious man you were conversing with, but find the other side as vacant as when you first passed it. Slightly disappointed, you find your place along the perimeter of the circular stone courtyard and wait for the king’s advisor to speak.

“Today is a day of celebration,” he begins, and you mutter the rest of his speech that you’d heard for the past four years under your breath. The hair stands up on the back of your neck and instinct tells you that someone was watching you, but you can’t find who it is among the hundreds of people present. You think you’ve found the culprit when you lock your gaze with a pair of strikingly blue eyes, but they disappear before you can identify the rest of the person. “And, as you are most likely already aware, this year we welcome His Highness Prince Touya Todoroki to the presentation ceremonies. Though he is of a royal family, those that wish to court or be courted by His Highness may present themselves as suitors as they ordinarily would.”

“And will the Prince grace us with his esteemed presence, or is he preoccupied with his ordinarily outlandish activities?” Sneers and snide remarks ripple through the crowd and the advisor struggles to regain their attention. That is, until that same loud barking laugh that you heard from the other side of the column cuts through the murmurs and mutters.

The voice that follows makes your blood run cold in your veins.

“How bold to assume any of you are worthy of breathing in my presence.”

“Your Highness–”

“Shut up,” he spits, shivers spreading over your skin as the crowd splits to reveal an unruly mass of spiked white hair. His eyes are paralyzingly bright, cold and narrow while they scan the vermin before him. The rumors that circulated of his intimidating nature paled in comparison to the man before you, tall and lean and radiating the most dangerous aura you’d ever come across. All the previously gloating eyes became that of rabbits hunted by a wolf when they came under his gaze…except for yours. By some odd stroke of Fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen the Prince before, even though that was physically impossible. Maybe you’d passed another white-haired asshole in the market. “Well? Are we starting or shall you keep gawking until I staple your jaw shut?” The advisor stumbles, shrinking away like a mouse in a lion’s den.

“Yes, Your Highness. May the first Lady to be courted please step forward!”

As the gowns start to swoop and the swords begin to swing, you’re again reminded of just how unnecessary the spectacle of presentation season always was. One by one, daughters of nobility presented themselves to the suitors, who would then step forward and duel one another for the opportunity to court the Lady. The fights were never to the death, of course, but the shame that came with losing more than one duel was close to it; nothing was more embarrassing, however, than having no suitors step forward when a Lady presented herself. It was your worst fear every season, one that you seemingly didn’t need to worry about this time around.

Still, you were met with the same pasty-faced suitor that had been attempting to win your hand for the past several seasons. He’d accumulated significantly more muscle mass since the previous season, but his hot-headed temper and objectifying tendencies were enough of a turn off to send him packing by the end of the first meeting.

“You have rejected me time and time again, but that only makes you more enticing,” he declares, offering his hand to you while you roll your eyes behind your fan. Ladies who already received their matches swoon at his show of masculinity, but it only makes your stomach turn. “I will win you. That is my promise. And, if not this season, then the next, and I will persevere until the only eyes you look for in a room are mine.”

“The only thing I would be looking for in a room with you is an exit,” you mutter. He doesn’t answer, eyeing you like you were a wise investment. Gross.

“You’d do well to accept me.” Your attention darts upward and you meet his stare, irritated at your lack of a response. The volume of his voice drops so that only you two can hear it as he comes to stand inches away from your face. “It’s not like you have the privilege of other options. Marry me or life as a spinster is your only future.”

“I wouldn’t marry you if the entire kingdom was at stake,” you hiss and his mouth turns up in a snarl, ready to bite out a response when the shing! of a sword being pulled from its sheath echoes through the courtyard. A quiet verbal commotion sets into the crowd, but you’re unable to see anything beyond the asshole before you.

"Your business is with me, not her," warns a dangerously familiar voice and the man in front of you stiffens. "Let's get this over with."

“The…ahem…duel will begin once both suitors are in first positions,” the advisor relays with great hesitation. You’d never experienced a duel for your hand, yet it seemed that another man had been dealt into the game. With his face drained of its remaining color, Pasty-face draws his blade like an inexperienced marionette, clunky and jagged, as he takes his place in the circle, allowing you to catch the eye of his opponent, molten blue eyes that make your knees turn gelatinous. The prince was dueling for your hand.

Prince Touya of the Todoroki family was dueling for your hand.

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#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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blooming-violets · 2 years ago

Note

Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card - Dragging themselves along the ground

Bring Your Kids to Work Day

[tasm!peter x fem!reader]

TW: effects of fire and smoke inhalation, descriptions of a dead body, injury of a child, it's a fic about being trapped in a burning building with a child so you'll be reading grim descriptions of that

A/N: I started this bingo card almost exactly one year ago and I've only finished five fics from it since. Slow and steady, baby!

Bring Your Kids To Work Day. Of course, it would happen today, of all days.

Your office building was nothing special. Four stories and a basement. It paled in comparison to the surrounding towering skyscrapers. The newspaper company you worked for was located on the top floor. A local, independent newspaper that tried to focus on uncovering the truths the Daily Bugle would fabricate. Your company was barely staying afloat as it were. People enjoyed the gossip more than the truth. The struggling business thought today would be a wonderful time to allow their children to come and witness what their parents did each day. There were only about twenty employees total and, over half of you didn’t have children, so there weren’t that many kids in attendance. It was adorable at first. You got to meet your coworkers' kids and even got to snuggle with a five month old. You thought about texting Peter that you were coming down with a terrible case of baby fever but chose to wait until you saw him in person to spring the news on him.

It was supposed to be a good day.

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey,” your desk mate, Jenny, tapped you on the shoulder. She had her two twins in tow, Ollie and Ellie, the cutest set of four year olds you think you’d ever witnessed. “Would you mind watching these two while I run down to my car? I left my purse there. I’m parked in the garage just across the street. I shouldn’t be too long. It will take me ten times longer to drag them along with me.”

You beamed, more than happy to oblige and help fuel your growing need for your own kids, “I would love to!” You turned your attention to the twins and gave them a wink. “I even have a secret stash of lollipops hidden in my desk. I was hoping to find someone to share them with.”

Both their eyes lit up at the prospect of the sugary treats.

Ellie squealed, “You can share with us! We’re good at sharing! Right, Ollie?” She elbowed her brother and he happily nodded in agreement.

Jenny clasped her hands together in thanks, “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be right back. You two be on your best behavior.” She ruffled the tops of their blonde heads before turning to hurry out of the office.

You pulled open your desk drawer to show them the pile of lollipops hidden in there. Your inherent sweet tooth was worth any potential cavities. The sugar helped you get through your days of uncertainty, never knowing if the paper would go under or not. You rolled your chair out of the way to let the kids grab what flavor they wanted.

Soon, the three of you stood around, lollipops sticking out of your mouths, while you waited for their mother to return.

“Did you guys have fun today?” You asked.

The twins both hopped into your chair, squished side by side, while you slowly spun them around.

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Mommy let us watch Moana on her phone.”

That wasn’t exactly the answer you were looking for but a room full of introverted writers and stacks of newspapers everywhere wasn’t going to be the most fun for a young child.

“I love Moana,” you sighed happily. “Maybe I’ll watch that when I go home tonight.”

“I like Maui,” Ellie replied. “He’s funny. Will your mommy let you watch it on her phone?”

You were starting to get the sense that Ellie was the dominant one of the twins. Ollie mostly grinned up at you, staying silent, with big, round eyes and cherry red staining his lips from the lollipop. He was adorable and you wanted nothing more than to eat him up. You really needed a baby of your own…

“I don’t live with my mom anymore,” you answered.

“You live alone?” She gasped, looking sad for your wellbeing, as if living alone was the worst thing her little mind could ever think of.

You laughed, “No. I live with my boyfriend.”

Ellie made a long “ooooo” sound, followed by a fit of giggles, “A boyfriend! Is he handsome? Is he a prince?”

You couldn��t help but chuckle to yourself, knowing Peter would get a kick out of this conversation, “Yes, I think he is very handsome and, no, he’s not a prince. Not in the royal sense, at least.”

“I think Aladdin is handsome. I’m going to marry him,” Ellie paused to listen to what Ollie was now whispering in her ear. A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ollie says he’s going to marry you when he grows up!”

They both burst into high pitched giggles.

“He thinks you’re pretty like Moana,” Ellie laughed.

“I would be honored to marry Ollie,” you smirked, growing fonder of these two the more time you spent with them. Jenny had tried to get you to babysit for them before. You think it might be time to accept that offer. Peter and you could play house for a night. “I think he’s as sweet as a lollipop.”

Ollie’s shoulders rose up to his ears as he shrunk into himself with a bashful smile, “I’m going to be Spider-Man when I turn 5. The real one. Not a pretend one.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and you had to lean forward to catch what he was saying.

“You mean I’ll get to marry Spider-Man?” You widen your eyes in feign shock. Peter would absolutely love this conversation. You knew he would be just as smitten as you. “That sounds like a dream come true.”

Ellie nudged his shoulder with hers, “He always says he loves Spider-Man because we saw him in real life one time. He swung above us when we were driving home from preschool. He waved at Ollie. It was so cool. We never saw a real live superhero before that. Mommy made us Spidey masks. I can tell her to make you one, too. Then we can all match.”

“That sounds amazing. I think Ollie would make a wonderful Spider-Man some day.”

“Are you guys talking about Spidey?” Harrison, the office college intern, strode up behind you with a coffee mug in hand. “He saved me one time. Some bad guys shoved me into an alley with guns to try and mug me. They were going to shoot me if I didn’t give them everything in my pockets.”

You shot him a death glare for talking about gun violence in front of the young children but he ignored you. He could tell he had them hooked with his story and was enjoying their attention. You rolled your eyes at the young man. You’d heard this tale about a hundred times before. He brought it up whenever he could. He finally had new and excited ears to listen to him.

“Were you scared?” Ollie asked, his eyes wide . “I never sawed a real gun before.”

“Yeah, I was so scared, but then something amazing happened.” Harrison knelt down to better hold their attention. “Spider-Man jumped down behind the bad guys. He was as silent as a cat. The bad guys didn’t even know he was there until he started talking.”

“What did he say?” Ellie whispered, leaning in closer to catch every word.

“He said, ‘Hey, assho- uh, I mean- hey, buttheads! You mind if I join in the fun?’ and then he started shooting his webs at them until they were all tangled up. He hung them off a street light like some human pinatas for the police to get. Then he came back with my wallet and phone in hand, tossed them over to me, patted me on the top of my head, and told me to enjoy my night.” Harrison ended his story with a satisfied sigh.

You had asked Peter about the validity of the interns story once. He claimed he couldn’t remember the exact insistence but that it sounded like something he would do. Then he started bragging about how shocked Harrison would be if he knew you were sleeping with the “world famous” Spider-Man. That was when you had shut him up with a kiss before his boasting became too much.

“I gotta go potty,” Ollie huffed, like it was such a shame to leave a conversation when they were discussing superheroes. You would have to get Peter to meet the kids some day in his suit. They would lose their minds. Actually, you should have him meet Harrison some time too, just to watch the young man fangirl.

“It’s down the hall,” You pointed him in the right direction. There was only a single bathroom on the floor that the entire office had to share.

Ollie jumped off the chair and made his way to the bathroom, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder at you.

“That’s the one!” You called to him. “You found it! Yell if you need any help.”

He smiled and disappeared inside.

“Did you get Spidey’s autograph?” Ellie asked Harison.

He shook his head, “Sorry, kiddo. Not that time. I was too shaken up. If I ever meet him again, I’ll make sure to snag one for ya.”

He tipped an invisible hat to the little girl and made his way back to his desk. Being the youngest in the office, he got stuck with the one directly next to the bathroom, in the spot no one else wanted. You watched him plop down into his rickety wooden chair and smile happily to himself. He was a good kid. Talented, with a lot of potential to be a future investigator and reporter.

You finished your lollipop and tossed the stick in the trash, “What else did you like doing while you were here besides watching Moana and talking about Spider-Man?”

Ellie shrugged, “Mommy let us color on some newspapers. I drew a cat farting out rainbows. We wanted to make a fort out of all the stacks of papers but she said it was too dangerous and might fall. She didn’t want us to get crushed. Can we look out the window to see if we can see her? I want to wave to her.”

“Sure. Come on,” You took her tiny hand and helped her hop down from the chair.

The best features of the old building were its large windows. They ran from the floor to the ceiling and had a beautiful arch at the top. They were the kind of windows you could happily stare out of for hours.

Ellie pressed her nose up against the pane, her breath fogging up the glass, “I don’t see her yet.”

You looked down, searching the sidewalks for Jenny, and shook your head, “Me either. I’m sure she’ll be back any moment. Keep an eye out for her.”

Your voice trailed off as something caught your attention. Two people were sprinting down the street, a look of sheer terror plastered on their face. Even from four floors up you could easily see how scared they were. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly sprung to life as you watched more people round the corner. All running. All terrified. You couldn’t hear the screams behind the thick glass but you could see the way their faces contorted.

They were screaming for their lives.

You felt a strange disconnect between the people on the ground and yourself. Like watching a movie inside of a dream. They felt like they were in a different reality from your own. Behind the crowd appeared a giant ball of moving fire. It took a few seconds for your brain to process what you were seeing. The closer it got, the more you realized it wasn’t just fire. It was a man encased in the flames. At first you thought maybe he was on fire but then you realized he was the fire. He was controlling it and bending it to his will. He was what the people were running from. He was the danger they feared.

He tossed fistfulls of balled up flames towards the running people and haphazardly shot them off into the windows of every building he passed. He was creating a flaming destruction in his wake. A villain who wanted to watch the city burn.

And your building was next in line.

Your hand immediately went to grab onto the back of Ellie’s shirt as your own reality finally caught up to crash with the people below. You dragged her down onto the floor just in time for the big window to explode into shards of flying glass and rain down over the tops of your heads as a ball of fire burst to life against the back wall. The wood paneling went up in flames in a matter of seconds. People were screaming as chaos broke out. They were grabbing their children and sprinting towards the nearest exit. Loose pieces of newspaper floated down around you, some igniting on fire mid flight, and sizzling to soot before they hit the ground. Glass fell from your hair to trickle down under your collar and rolled down your back as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Ellie was whimpering beside you, tears filling her eyes, and she reached a shaky hand out to hold onto yours. You gripped it tightly, noting that she had a small, bloody cut across her cheek from where the glass hit her.

“It’s okay,” you shouted to her. The wailing sounds of the fire alarm bursting to life deafened your words. You weren’t even sure Ellie could hear you but you were speaking more for yourself anyway. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We have to get up quickly and get out of here.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and you read her lips form the words, “You’re bleeding…” She pointed a fearful finger near your forehead.

You reached up and felt a large, jagged piece of glass sticking out from over your eyebrow. You gripped onto the shard and pulled it from your skin. A rush of warm blood waterfalled down over your cheek, blurring into your eyes. You didn’t feel any pain.

“We have to get up,” you shouted to her again.

Ellie grabbed onto your hand as you both scrambled to your feet.

An old, wooden building and a floor covered in newspapers were no match for the ravenous fire. It was rapidly engulfing everything it could devour. In the short amount of time you spent on the ground, half your office was gone. Between the blinding, red hot glow of the flames and the white flashing lights of the fire alarm, mixed with the deafening sounds, you were overwhelmed and disoriented.

“Stairs…” You mumbled to yourself, trying to focus your panicked thoughts. “We have to get to the stairs.”

Thick black smoke was already starting to fill the small space. Whatever limited vision you had seconds ago was quickly dissipating. You caught a glimpse of your boss ushering out the last few remaining employees out of the door. His arm motioned for you before a wall of smoke blocked him from view. At least you had the right direction.

You tried your best to duck down low as you dragged Ellie behind you, keeping a death grip on her tiny hand, as you forged towards the direction of the stairs. She kept planting her heels into the ground and tugging against you. She was screaming something that couldn’t be heard over the wailing alarm.

You yanked her by the arm up to your side and wrapped her in a tight embrace, “Stop fighting me! It’s okay! I’m going to get us out!”

“Ollie!” She cried. “We have to get Ollie!”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. She was right.

Ollie was still in the bathroom.

Your eyes scanned the room. You couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you. The smoke was starting to irritate your eyes. They burned and watered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

You scooped Ellie up into your arms and sprinted as fast as you could towards the exit. Your thigh crashed into the corner of a flaming desk, sending your body jerking in the opposite direction, but you ignored the sharp pain and did your best to blindly correct your course. If you could just pass Ellie off to your boss then at least you wouldn’t have to worry about her safety while you tried to find Ollie.

You stumbled to the exit, nearly slamming into the wall, only to find your boss already gone. You tried to pull open the door but reeled back when you felt white hot, searing pain burn into your palm. You couldn't hold back the scream of shock that burst out of you. The metal handle was impossible to hold onto with your bare skin. Thinking fast, you tried to wrap the bottom of your shirt around the handle to pull open the door. The pain still burned through the thin cotton but you managed to open it just enough to stick your foot through. You kicked the door open the rest of the way and shoved Ellie into the stairwell.

“Go down the stairs and out the door!” You shouted at her. “I’ll be right back!”

The stairwell was pitch black apart from the flashing white light of the fire alarm. It made it difficult for your eyes to gain their bearings, making you feel off balance, like walking through a funhouse at a carnival. Ellie stood frozen in place. Her entire body was shaking with fear. Black soot was staining her skin. Her eyes were watering, either from crying or the smoke, as they illuminated with each flash of the light. Her pant leg was soaked through with urine pooling by her feet. At some point she had lost a shoe. You knew she was too petrified to move.

“Ellie, go!” You tried to give her a small shove, knowing how important timing was to get to safety, but she didn’t budge.

“Ollie’s scared!” She cried. “He’s scared. We have to get him. Don’t leave us! I want mommy. I want mommy. Where’s my mommy?”

There was no time to think. No time to argue with her. No time to convince her. You were afraid that if you left her there, she wouldn’t move, or get lost, or trapped. You knew children’s instincts in fires were often to hide instead of run. You didn’t trust this 4 year old to make it out on her own. She would get lost in the crowds below. Swept away in a sea of people. You couldn’t leave her. The risk was too high. She had to come with you.

You lunged for her hand, forcing the two of you down to your knees to army crawl under the smoke. It was getting harder to even see your two hands in front of your face. Sweat dripped down your back. Your lungs were starting to ache as they filled with toxic gas. Both you and Ellie kept coughing but you dragged her along beside you, refusing to let her out of your grasp. You knew if you let go, you wouldn’t be able to find her again.

The wooden floors were heating up. Fire raged above you. It was on the ceiling now. Eating everything in its path. You prayed that Ollie was still inside the bathroom and that he was unharmed. You couldn’t see, struggled to breath, and your body was reaching unhealthy temperatures.

Down the hall.

That’s all you had to get to. Down the hall and first door on the right.

A charred, wooden beam fell from the ceiling and landed directly against your right arm. The flames licked at your exposed skin as the wood splintered and cracked. You flinched away from the pain, nearly crawling on top of Ellie to get away from the heat. Fire was on nearly every side of you now. The left, the right, and above all glowed orange in the darkness. Orange every way you looked. It seared your retinas until all you could see was the blinding light. The heat was forcing you down as low as your body could manage, pressed tightly against the floor.

You had no idea where in the office you were now. You didn’t know if you had traveled one foot or twenty. You just kept inching forward. You knew if you reached the back wall, you would have gone too far.

This was a mistake. You should have gotten Ellie out first. You were leading her straight to her death. The flames would eat you both alive.

The noise all faded into a constant loud roaring in your ears until it dulled into nothing like your ears decided to stop working. Instead, you felt the rumbling noise in your chest. Your brain was vibrating in your skull. Smoke blocked out the orange the further you crawled into the fire. It snuffed out everything in its wake. All you could see was black and all you could hear was your own blood pounding in your ears. It was like being in a terrible nightmare. If you closed your eyes, maybe you would wake up somewhere else. You felt like you were floating. Drifting. It was getting hard to breathe. You’d forgotten what fresh air felt like. Ellie was getting slower, too. You were having to drag her more. She was smaller than you. She would die first, you thought.

A canary in the coal mine.

You had to get to Ollie. And then what? You could hardly drag Ellie this far. There was no way you would be able to pull along two terrified children all the way back to the exit. There was no guarantee it would even still be accessible. This side of the building had no fire escapes. You’d get to the bathroom and then you’d be stuck. The three of you would be trapped inside. The fire was spreading too fast. You weren’t able to outrun it.

Your hands bumped into something on the floor. The bump was enough to recenter your attention. You felt around with your free hand wondering if you had gone too far and hit the back wall. You fumbled around you with touch being your only working sense. This was no wall. It was something soft. Fleshy. Your hand found fingers. You traced up their arm and over their shoulder until you found a face. You dragged your body closer and tried to see through blurry, smoke filled eyes who it was. It was only when you were centimeters from their face, your noses touching, that you could make out any features.

Harrison was staring back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unblinking. His face still. You shook his shoulder but his eyes showed no signs of life. Half of his face was bright red and outlined in charred black from where the fire had devoured his flesh. It had eaten him nearly down the skull. There was no breath in his lungs. No life in his eyes. He was gone.

Dead.

He had just turned 20 last month.

Harrison’s desk was right next to the bathroom.

That was the only thought you allowed yourself to think. Your emotions had disappeared along with your hearing. Your mind was set on a single track.

Get to the bathroom.

That was it.

That was the goal.

You crawled over Harrison’s body. Your knees sunk into his chest, feeling the crack of his ribs underneath you, as you pushed your weight off him to propel yourself forward. Ellie was like a dead weight, a ball and chain, attached to your arm that you had to drag along with you. Her head was lolling limply back and forth as you pulled her over the body after you. She wasn’t moving on her own anymore. Maybe she was dead, too. Maybe you were dragging the corpse of a child around. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just had to get the two of you to the bathroom. Dead or alive.

You used your hand to feel along the wall for the bathroom door. The old wallpaper bubbled under your skin. A part of your brain was telling you that what you were touching was extremely hot and burning your flesh but, since you no longer felt anything, you didn’t stop until your fingers brushed over a hinge.

You scrambled around for the handle, gripping it tightly, and yanked open the door. Heavy black smoke immediately flooded into the tiny room. You quickly pulled Ellie and you onto the tiled floor and slammed the door closed with your foot. You lay staring up at the white ceiling being clouded with rising smoke. Your lungs sucked in the cleaner air. The fire hadn’t touched this room yet. Besides the smoke that you let in when you opened the door, it was relatively untouched.

An oasis amongst the desert sands.

You slowly let your eyes wander into the corner where Ollie sat huddled. His legs were pulled tight against his chest and his arms were clinging onto them. He stared at you with wide eyes, glancing tearfully between your soot covered face and his motionless sister.

A surprised laugh fell from your lips which quickly turned into another coughing fit. You rolled onto your side, hacking up black saliva over the white floor.

“You’re alive,” you croaked out to the scared little boy.

You forced yourself to sit up. Wads of wet paper towels were lined up on the ground. You realized Ollie had stuffed them under the door to stop the smoke. Smart kid. They have been pushed to the side when you opened the door. You quickly bent down to shove them back into the cracks, keeping the smoke at bay, and then turned to find Ellie.

She looked so small face down on the floor. Her pink t-shirt and blonde hair were now completely black. You rolled her onto her back in a daze. It was hard to think. Hard to move. You felt like your limbs were full of wet cement. You stumbled onto your feet, your head spinning with a pounding headache, and grabbed some brown paper towels from the dispenser. You tried to run them under the sink but the faucet wasn’t working so you dunked them into the toilet water instead. Then you turned to Ellie and began wiping the soot from her mouth and her blocked nostrils. Her chest rose with short, labored breaths. Her eyes were caked close from the greasy smoke residue so you tried your best to wipe them clean too. She was still alive but she wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t get out of here. There was no way you’d be able to carry her body back through those horrors with Ollie in tow. You were too weak. Too sick. The three of you were trapped. This would be your fiery coffin.

“Spider-Man will save us.”

Ollie’s tiny whisper hardly reached your broken ears. You gazed through half closed lids over your shoulder to look at the boy. You were starting to forget who he was or what his name was. His words felt foreign to you. All your thoughts were moving at a sluggish pace.

Spider-Man.

Save us.

Yes…yes…Peter.

You fumbled to grab your phone out of your pocket. Of course, Peter would save you. There was still hope.

The black grime coating your fingers wouldn’t let you use the touch screen and you let out a frustrated cry.

“Siri!” You whined, the desperation heavy in your tone. “Call Peter Parker.”

“Calling Peter Parker,” her pleasant, robotic tones echoed back to you. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare you were currently living through.

You sunk against the wall, slumping into yourself, feeling like the world was spinning. Peter would know about the man with the fire. He would know he was on your street. He would know it was your building. He would have been searching for you right now. You’d just have to stay awake long enough for him to find you.

It rang twice before his panicked voice answered, “Where are you? Tell me you're safe.” He sounded breathless and far away to you, like listening to an echo bouncing off an underpass. Your body was starting to shut down.

“Bathroom. Trapped.” It was all you could say before what little vision you had left started to fade. You didn't have much time left. The oxygen in the room was running out.

A small hand wrapped over your wrist as the boy snuggled up to your side.

Ollie. His name was Ollie.

Ollie and Ellie. The cutest set of twins you had ever seen.

It was supposed to be a good day.

“Spider-Man is on the phone,” you mumbled to the frightened child. “Talk to him. He’ll keep…keep…keep you safe…he’ll find you…”

Ollie picked up the phone. He was speaking into it but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You were floating away to wherever Ellie’s mind was currently being held. Someplace away from here. Away from the flames. Someplace without smoke. Somewhere you could breathe again.

You were going to close your eyes. Just for a minute…one, little, short minute…

A crashing rumble of bricks being smashed startled you back to life. You tried to take in what was happening but your brain was stuck in a haze. One of your hands was clutched onto the front of Ellie’s shirt and the other was holding onto Ollie. Someone else was in the room with you. It was smokier than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Time had passed, that much you knew, though you were unsure how much. Something was breaking a wall. Bricks were flying. It was filling the room with white smoke to compete with the black and blocking out whatever sunlight was attempting to push through the holes being created.

“It’s okay,” Ollie spoke into your ear as he curled up next to your side, noticing that you were awake again. “Spider-Man is here. He’s saving us just like you said.”

Peter.

Your sweet, beautiful Peter. You had no idea when he got here or how but he was here and he was breaking apart the side of the building with his bare hands so they could escape.

You tried to focus your attention on Ellie. Her eyes were open now and she was curled onto her side. She was weak but somehow she was still alive.

The masked face of Spider-Man appeared in your line of sight. His hands were on either side of your cheeks as he cradled your face in his palms.

“Stay with me. Don’t you drift off again. I’m getting you out of here.”

There was a steadfast determination in his voice. Many months ago he once told you that he refused to ever let you die. You had laughed at him then, telling him that was impossible, not even Peter Parker could control death. He had told you it didn’t matter. He would fight Death himself with nothing but his two fists if it meant getting to hold onto you for another day.

He had meant it then and he was proving it now.

“Get the kids first,” you croaked. “Get Ellie to an ambulance.”

“I can hold all of you at the same time!” He bent down to scoop Ellie into his arms. She offered no resistance but was too weak to hold onto him herself. Her head flopped against his shoulder and her eyes closed. Ollie leapt up into his other arm and clung tightly around his neck.

He couldn’t hold all of you and manage his webs at the same time. He was lying to himself and to you.

“Can you get on my back?” He tried to fight the reality he was being faced with. He didn’t want to leave you behind but you both knew the children needed to be evacuated first. As stubborn as he was, not even Peter would choose you over them. Children came first. Always. That was the life and sacrifice of a hero.

“Peter,” you ordered, forcing what little energy you had into your words. “Take the kids. Hurry. You’re wasting time.”

The fire was at the door. You could feel its heat on your back as you leaned against the wall. The smoke was pushing through the cracks. The wet paper towels had long since failed their duty at keeping it at bay. Time was slipping through your fingers.

“I’ll be right back!” He shouted. “Stay alive or I’m going to kill you.”

Then he was gone.

The smoke was becoming too much. The heat was getting too strong. It forced you to drag yourself across the floor towards the hole in the wall. You let your head hang outside, gulping at the fresh air as the black smoke rose above you. The smell of singed, burning hair hit your nose. You could see the ends sizzling orange from your peripheral vision. You were starting to feel pain again as some of your senses slowly returned. You looked down at the pavement four stories below you. It was getting too hot to bear. Your skin was screaming. A part of you wanted to keep dragging your body into the fresh air even if it meant you’d fall. For that one second of falling, you’d be free from the oppressive heat. Behind you meant death. In front of you meant death.

All that you had left was Peter.

At least the kids were out. If you were able to accomplish anything today, it was that.

Even if Peter did most of the work. You were able to start what he could finish.

Your lids felt heavy. Your breath was weezing. Your chest ached and your right fist was clenched close from the pain. The skin on your palm was black and peeling from where you had gripped onto the burning door handle. You wanted it all to be over.

The pavement never looked so enticing.

It was supposed to be a good day.

You dragged yourself further out the hole so your entire chest was now hanging over the edge. Your body was craving the clean air. It desperately wanted to escape the heat. You pulled yourself a little further. Inch by inch. Flirting with the idea of death.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

The scruff of your shirt was balled into a fist as you were lifted upright into the safety of Peter’s arms. You were swinging through the air. The wind in your face never felt so delicious as it slid down your shriveled lungs. He was holding you tightly to his chest and using one arm to swing you away from the burning building.

Tears sprung into your irritated, red eyes.

You were out. Free from the fire. Free from the smoke. Alive.

“I got you, baby,” he chirped against your ear. “I got you. I’m not letting you go anywhere I can’t follow.”

He landed softly on a rooftop a few blocks from the chaos. There were people who still needed his help. A villain to be fought. Damage control be done.

But he didn’t care about any of that.

Peter placed you delicately onto your bottom on the roof and he knelt down in front of you, tugging off his mask to get a proper look.

“I’m going to bring you straight to the hospital but I need to see you first,” he whispered. “I just need to look at you…make sure you’re still here with me.”

He slipped his hands free from his gloves to push back your singed hair from your face. He grabbed his mask to carefully wipe away some of the soot from your eyes.

“You look like you clawed your way straight outta hell,” he smiled down at you but his eyes held his real feelings of worry behind them. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. You both knew how close to losing you he had come today.

You cracked a half hearted smile of your own, “I think I did.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and a constant, high pitched shrieking sound kept ringing in your head.

“You’re okay,” he asked.

You weren’t sure if it was meant as a question for you to answer or a statement he was speaking to help ease his anxious heart.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “I’m alive, at least.”

The further away you got from the fire, the more pain you started to feel. It wasn’t just your hand that was hurting now, the pain was shooting all the way down your back, and your right arm felt stiff and unable to move.

“I told you I wouldn’t ever let you die. That’s not allowed. We’re going to die together, hand in hand, snuggled up in bed like The Notebook.” Peter leaned his forehead against your own and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lost in the moment of softness, until the thought of Ellie and Ollie crashed to the surface. You gasped and jerked away, horror etched onto your face. “The twins!”

He tugged you to him, kissing your temple, “They’re safe. I send them off in an ambulance. I think the little boy will be fine. The girl looked like she was suffering from serious smoke inhalation. I had to give her CPR when I showed up. She wasn’t breathing. I got her to wake up. She’ll be seen right away. Speaking of which-” He stood back up, pulling his gloves and mask back on. “The hospital is exactly where we need to get you.”

Peter scooped you back into his arms and hopped onto the ledge of the roof, “You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

#the amazing spiderman #tasm #tasm x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm peter #andrew garfield #spiderman x reader #tasm fic #peter parker fic #tasm writing bingo #bring your kids to work day #blooming violets #blooming violets fic

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wolfytae-exe · 11 months ago

Note

🩵⊹₊ ⋆ first and last love | CHOI BEOMGYU

pairing: bsf!beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: drabble; fluff, my attempt at simple humour and suggestive.

wc: 1.2k

synopsis: you've had more crushes than you've properly fallen in love. why is that? because of the boy you grew up with who seemed to take up the space in your heart—designed for him only.

warnings: beomgyu's so flirty, physical affection, beomgyu has a way with his confession, kisses, neck kisses, reader so whipped over gyu :< beomgyu satoori >//< not proofread :')

a/n: hi cici!! I was 🫧 anon <3 I hope that you're looking after yourself and I hope you enjoy this! I'm so sorry this was late!

"I can feel your heart beating so fast right now, you good?" beomgyu whispers by your ear. his arms were stretched out above you, one hand lingers by your waist with a soft grip.

you shut your eyes for a second, trying to work on slowing down the pulse of your heart but how can you when the proximity between you was too close.

"can you please just get him off?" you plead softly, refusing to move in case toto will start flying away, his talons tangled in your hair.

beomgyu chuckles at your stiff frame, making tutting noises at toto so he would move onto his arm and place his feathered friend on his shoulder.

"toto, you made them nervous." he laughs but you knew it was out of endearment, and his hand's still on your waist, rubbing up and down your side, relaxing your shoulders from the gentle touches.

no matter how many times you've visited beomgyu's family, and toto, he still hasn't warmed up to you—screaming, or always going straight to the top of your head.

"a-anyway, um, what do you want to do today?" you hastily walk over to his bench window, sitting up right and still a little on edge in case his green friend flies off of his shoulder and back onto your crown.

looking out the window your eyes flicker at the way the trees dance in the wind. perhaps going outside wasn't on the agenda for today.

"you want to make out?"

"sorry what?" you were quick to catch those words. and the return of your heart palpitating in your chest has your cheeks furiously heating up from embarrassment.

"I asked if you want to make out with me." beomgyu walks into the corner of the room where toto's cage is, shuffling the cage so he wouldn't be in sight.

you weren't too sure if he was joking or if he just wanted to catch you off guard, but him asking you this question was not on your bingo card. he always had a special place in your heart. perhaps the reason why your crushes never lasted so long because beomgyu was there occupying your mind and your heart.

"earth to ___?" he calls out your name.

you shut your eyes for a long blink and when you open them you see beomgyu sitting beside you with a small pout and a raised brow.

"are you sure?" you ask. your face mirrors his expression as you turn your body towards him.

"yeah, I've been wanting to kiss you for years. I know you're not talking to anyone right now, so please just let me kiss you." he says it so nonchalantly like it wasn't the most bizarre thing to process.

your best friend—who you've loved all your life—wants to kiss you—because he's wanted to do that from who knows how long.

you scoff out a chuckle, fascinated by the way he managed to confess to you in a way you never thought or heard anyone ever confess to you before.

"I'm being serious, ___. I like you a lot, but I really want those pretty lips on mine." he leans a little closer, an estimate of ten centimetres between you as he awaits your confirmation.

"did you know that I've like you all my life, gyu?" you lean back on your hands, planting them into the cushion of the bench while you look up at the man before you with doe eyes.

"if I say yes, can I kiss you then?" he wasn't backing down.

"how do I know you didn't just fake a confession just to get me to kiss you? or for you to lure out my confession for you?" you probe, narrowing your eyes at your best friend. you know how he works, his little tricks and deception to get his way with things. but beomgyu isn't like that with you. you mean too much to him for him to do that to you, surely.

he sighs, facing the ceiling for a split second before scooting closer on the seat, the sides of your thighs touching and his hand cupping the side of your neck away from him.

"if you don't want me to kiss you just tell me to stop," he whispers lowly, and you figured his daegu dialect kicked in. "or you can kiss me back and I'd be the happiest guy in the galaxy."

you giggle at his exaggeration, but your heart starts to pick up again, your chest heaving slightly when beomgyu leans into your neck, delicately placing a kiss to your skin and another to the side of it and so forth.

your fingers find their way to tangle in his dark locks, sighing after every searing kiss, setting afire to the spot under your ear. once he heard your sweet whimper he transitions those gentle kisses to open-mouthed light sucking.

"beomgyu-" you sigh, eyes fluttering shut after he hums with his lips still latched onto your skin, the vibrations sending tingles across your body. "kiss me."

he smiles against your skin, the hold on the side of your neck a little stronger.

"that's my baby." is all you make out from his mumble before he connects his lips with yours.

it was like a dream come true, as cheesy as that is. but you never knew you'd ever be kissing your best friend, let alone asking you to kiss him.

he was gentle with it–you could feel the longing and subtle passion he had for you. a familiar hand settles back on your waist again, this time his fingers subtly slide up and under your top, his calloused finger tips skimming against your skin.

the room was silent, but the ambient noise of the wind making the trees rustle outside was a contrast to both your sighs picking up, getting heavier by the second.

"mph- gyu-" you attempt to speak between his lighter pecks, "I really hope you like me just as much. because I wasn't lying when I said I've liked you all my life."

you both pull away, foreheads resting against each other, chests heaving, lips plump and wanting more.

"I would never lie to you about that. okay perhaps I did a little." he admits.

you push his chest away from you to take a look at him properly, a hint of disgust visible on your face.

"I mean I don't like you, because I love you, ___." beomgyu was quick to explain, not wanting to let go of his hold on you.

you roll your eyes at him, playfully shoving his shoulder and feigning an angered manner. "you really made me think you were just using me to quench your thirst of kisses, beomgyu."

he laughs but wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into a hug with his face buried in your neck.

"mmh, I'm sorry. I love you, I love you. I swear I was just messing with you for a sec. I really do love you." he confesses again in between light kisses against the other side of your neck. the sensation had your head reeling.

"okay, lover boy." your chortle quickly turns into a breathy whine. "that spot right there."

beomgyu acts upon your bidding, harshly sucking onto the area then delicately licking the spot.

"you didn't say it back." you can feel him pouting against you before he repeats and sucks on a different area that has your breath hitching.

"I love you. I love you. I love you so much, gyu." you relay, eyes still shut from the overwhelming feeling of slight pain from his teeth interfering but also the adrenaline from finally confessing to your first and, most likely, last love.

EEK 🫧ANON IS SMILES REVEALEDDDDD

#cici -> smiles🍮#cici -> 🫧anon #cici’s birthday bash🩵#txt #beomgyu #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu soft thoughts

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megamindsecretlair · 5 months ago

Text

WIP Friday

Forgive me, my loves, I was writing like crazy all week! I haven't worked on any fics this week, too busy trying to survive my last week of probation! 🥳 and get this book idea out of my head. Zora and Jasper are just entirely too cute. And I can't wait for you to meet them!

Thanks for the tag: @nerdieforpedro @slippinninque @harmshake and @multiversefanfics

I decided to share a little snippet from With These Words. Be kind 🥹 I'm sensitive bout my shit 🤣 also please don't steal or repost. This is completely original work. Also keep in mind that this is a very rough draft. 'Mkay byeeee

“Oh, shit,” she said, staring at the window. They had been talking and laughing so much, they hadn’t noticed that it was raining. The sky only mentioned a ten percent chance of rain. She hadn’t brought an umbrella.

“Oh, damn,” Jasper said.

“I didn’t bring an umbrella,” she groaned. She and her things were going to get absolutely soaked walking in the rain.

“Me neither. My car is close, I can drive you home.”

Zora waved him off. “It’s okay. I just…didn’t have getting soaked to the bone on my bingo card,” she said and smiled at him. Crap. That was going to be a long ass walk. She bit her lip, wondering how dangerous it would be to run in the rain. Maybe a brisk walk? If she took a shower right when she got home and drank some tea, would she still get sick?

“Zora, we’re taking my car. No arguments,” he said, his voice getting deeper as he issued the command.

Her mouth dropped as she blinked at him and he grinned. He leaned in close. “No arguments. C’mon,” he said.

His eyes dipped down and she bit her lip. His eyes narrowed briefly before he leaned away, standing up and collecting his things. Zora was slower on the uptick, getting up after him.

“You really—”

“Don’t say it. You really think I would let you walk in the rain like this?” He asked.

“Let me?” Zora asked.

“Let you. We’re friends, right? Friends look out for each other. Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” He asked.

“Of course,” she said, no hesitation. It felt like he was always doing something nice for her. Something sweet. Always making her feel better or reminding her with a simple gesture that not every human being was an asshole. How did she compete with that? How did she begin to pay him back?

“Then let me do this for you, too,” he said. Done with packing their things, he gestured for her to walk ahead of him.

Her stomach still twisted in knots as they rode the elevator to the first floor. This still felt wrong. Like she was taking advantage of his kindness. It was easy for her to do for others what she couldn’t accept in return.

She liked helping others, liked being kind, but she was not a nice person. Her face often betrayed her true thoughts, and she had little patience for others. She felt like he was going completely out of his way to help and she didn’t want that.

They crossed the library to the entrance, the sliding glass doors were the only barrier to the deluge of rain coming down, pounding the pavement hard enough to bounce.

Jasper took off his jacket. “Take my jacket so you don’t get too soaked,” he said. “And please don’t argue, I’ll just win.”

Zora sucked her teeth. “Only if we share. I don’t want you to get sick on my account,” she said.

Jasper narrowed his eyes, an adorable scowl on his pretty face. He looked outside, at the rain, and then looked back at her. “Fine. But only because I turn into a giant baby when I’m sick and I don’t want you to feel guilty,” he said and grinned.

“Guilty is my middle name,” she said with a laugh.

“Zora Guilty Underwood,” he said, rolling the words around his tongue. “Different, but I’m with it.”

“You are so damn corny!” She said.

Jasper chuckled and then threw his jacket over the both of them. He was much taller, the jacket only barely covering her. If the rain had wind behind it, she would get soaked either way.

Jasper pulled her closer to his body. “Wrap your arm around my waist. We’ll go quick and I don’t wanna lose your shrimpy ass,” he said.

Zora elbowed him in the stomach and Jasper flinched with a laugh. She stepped closer anyway, wrapping her arm around his waist. This was the most contact they’ve had by far and it conjured all sorts of thoughts.

God, he smelled amazing. Felt amazing. Working out next to him was nothing in comparison to wrapping her arm around him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, licking his lips briefly as they got closer.

From this close, she could see his long eyelashes fan across his cheeks whenever he blinked. Why were guys blessed with pretty eyelashes? Why was Jasper so pretty in general? She wanted to study and stare at him, uninterrupted.

Jasper cleared his throat. “Ready?” He asked.

Zora took a deep breath and tore her gaze away from his. “Ready,” she said and squealed as they left the library.

The rain hadn’t hit them yet because of the overhang of the library. But once they crossed from under it, the rain was unforgiving. It pelted them like crazy and they laughed as they remarked on it.

Whew! I'd love to know what yall think. They make me siccckkkk 😭

No pressure tags: @soft-persephone @murder-wife @umber-cinders @babybratzmaraj @mybonafidefeelings

#megaminds tag games #wip #work in progress #work in progress Friday

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questionableratatouille00 · 7 months ago

Text

ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇ

Pairing: Sambucky (Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes)

Summary: Sam and Bucky swim together as Bucky recalls the past.

Bingo Fill: ‘Cookout/Summer Camp/Stargazing/Hiking’ on my ‘Vacation’ card for @sambuckylibrary’s sambucky summer bingo!

Warnings: brief mention of something bad happening (non-specified), let me know if anything else should be tagged.

Bucky folded another table cloth, looking around and making sure there was no garbage on the ground.

Sam was doing the same at another table, and Bucky glanced at him every so often.

It was the day after the party, and now they were just cleaning up anything that hadn’t been cleaned up the day before.

“After we finish this, you up for some swimming?” Sam called. “Shit, it’s hot out here.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, pausing. And then, he nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Sam also nodded, before going back to cleaning. Bucky couldn’t help but notice how his shorts hugged his ass. He mentally slapped himself, cursing himself for even thinking that.

When they were done cleaning, both boys went inside the house and went to their separate rooms to get changed.

Bucky had been around so often that Sarah had cleaned out the old guest room for him. The gesture—though she argued it was small—meant a lot to him. He grabbed his swim trunks from his bag, staring at them.

They were basic dark blue swim trunks. But the idea of being shirtless—he didn’t like it. Being shirtless outside was already a horrible idea, but shirtless outside fully knowing that people would see—that Samwould see? It made him want to shrivel up and die.

He glanced at his left hand, eyeing it anxiously. He knew all too well about the gnarly scarring on his left shoulder, along with all of the scars on his torso. He had plenty of those, too. He was muscular—he wasn’t insecure about his physique, surprisingly, but he definitely wasn’t confident in his skin. And he was pale, too. Isn’t that not a good thing these days? It is, but it isn’t.

He didn’t have the time to contemplate modern trends right now. He needed to just grow up and get over it.

He begrudgingly got changed. He slipped on some Hey Dude shoes he’d gotten, and they were one of his favorite pairs of shoes he’d ever had. They were comfy, easy to get on and off, and they had a pretty design, too.

And just as he was about to leave the bedroom—his bedroom——

—he turned around and grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on. Goddamnit.

He walked down the stairs and found Sam, who was waiting by the door with two towels. He tossed Bucky one, and then snickered.

“You need some sunscreen?” He teased. Bucky looked around to check if the kids were around before flipping Sam the bird.

Bucky followed Sam out to the water. His swim trunks were red, and he wore a black shirt.

When the reached the water, Sam dropped his towel on the dock and pulled off his shirt. Bucky glanced away, though he desperately wanted to look.

He dropped his towel on the dock, too, before taking off his shoes. And then..he pulled off his shirt. He took a second to get used to the feeling, taking a few deep breaths.

He followed Sam into the water, swimming around with him.

“Where’d you learn how to swim?” Sam asked suddenly. Bucky glanced down. Did he look weird? Is that why Sam was asking?

He glanced back up at Sam’s face, realizing there was no judgment on his face.

“Summer camp. In 1927. I can’t remember what it was called, but I do remember that there was a lake.” Bucky recalled. He remembered that summer camp.

He’d been ten, and sleeping in a cot in a huge tent with other boys. They swam together, ate together, got changed together. He made a lot of friends, he thinks. None of those friendships lasted, obviously, most likely due to the lack of communication options in the time period.

He felt himself zoning out as he found the memory.

There was a lake. A large tent. A mess hall for them to eat in. Trails for hiking. Places for crafts. Things like working with leather and crafting knives. Typical 1927 boy stuff.

Something happened at that camp. Something did, he was sure of it. He couldn’t remember if it was good or bad. No, whatever had happened there was definitely bad. Something told him that his brain was blocking it off for now for a reason.

He did know that he had started to realize that he was gay there. He’d never fully understand that until seven years later, but that summer had kickstarted the whole thing.

What the hell had happened there that he couldn’t remember?

“Yeah? How was that?” Sam chuckled, snapping Bucky from his thoughts. They treaded the water, facing each other. They were a comfortable three feet apart.

“Fine. We were all butt-naked and it counted as bathing, but fine.” Bucky said, purposefully being expressionless.

Sam couldn’t keep himself from breaking into a smile. “Man, it’s like every time I talk to you, you just drop some random detail that throws off my entire day.” Sam laughs. Bucky grins, too, his lack of a shirt long forgotten.

“Okay, well, how did you learn to swim?” Bucky asked after a long moment of laughter.

“Right here. I think I was five or six.” Sam grinned.

“You learned to swim here?” Bucky echoes. Sam nods.

“I grew up here, man.” Sam reminds him.

Bucky nods, reminding himself of that.

“There were hiking trails, and the stars were beautiful. Yeah, we had pollution too, but not like now. You could see the stars every night, there.” Bucky murmured. He remembered that. The stars—there was one trail, that led to a field where there weren’t any trees and it was the best place to stargaze.

“Yeah?” Sam looked at Bucky, and Bucky tried his hardest not to stare at his chest.

He nodded. “Mhm.”

“I can’t say it’s the same as 1930s summer camp, but the stars are pretty nice out here, too.” Sam raised a brow a little, a soft smile on his face.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky felt a grin on his own face.

“Yeah. Y’know, I think Sarah’s got some camp chairs. If you want, you and I could see how it compares.” Sam said, a shameless look in his eyes.

Bucky smirked softly, before nodding. “We’ll see if it’s as good as it used to be.”

a/n: yeah uh I did actually combine the last couple of prompts but uhm merry Christmas

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#sbsummer2024 #bucky x sam #sambucky #sambucky fic #sambucky fanfiction #winterfalcon

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chenziee · 7 months ago

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The Heart in the Cage

I'm so sorry for the delay! Work and life in general's been a total dumpster fire the past two weeks 💀 I'll try to get the next one asap but I sadly can't promise anything concrete OTL

Written for: - @truffyfest Summer of Lawlu 2024 - Week 2: CONFESSION | HEART SWAP | “I thought I’d lost you.” - OP Bingo 2023: Volcano - @opfluffzine Wheel of Fluff event: Communication

[ READ ON AO3 | CHAINS OF FATE | COMM INFO ]

----------

“You want to do what?”

Luffy snickered at Law’s question. He did expect him to protest the idea but his shocked tone and horrified expression was just something else and Luffy just couldn’t help it. It was too funny, okay?

“Stop laughing, do you realise how serious what you’re asking is?” Law hissed, his frustration more than apparent.

“Sorry, Torao.” Luffy gulped, forcing his mirth down.

For a few seconds, Torao just continued glaring at him, as if to make sure Luffy wasn’t going to start giggling again… and maybe to try and convey how very unimpressed with Luffy he was. But finally, he sighed.

“Tell me why exactly should I go ahead with this stupid idea?”

“Because you love me!” Luffy answered immediately with a wide smile on his face, leaning forward to peer at Law’s face. There was a complicated look in his sharp, beautiful eyes, a look that told Luffy that he was fighting with himself over it.

Clicking his tongue, Law shoved Luffy’s face away. “That has nothing to do with it. In fact, it’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t do it.” He narrowed his eyes at Luffy, pointing his finger at Luffy and poking at the centre of his chest. “If my heart is in there and something happens to me, you’re dead, Luffy.”

“So?” Luffy asked, a pout making its way on his lips.

Law inhaled sharply, and it looked like he was counting to ten in his mind before he replied, “So, I’m not going to do it. It’s too fucking risky!” He paused, closing his eyes for a second before shooting Luffy a look. “Why do you want me to switch our hearts anyway?”

With a small huff, Luffy slumped against the backrest of the aquarium bar’s couch, watching as the dim light reflecting off of the water dances across Law’s skin, his face, his hair. There were still some barely visible scratches and bruises, a bandage tightly wrapped around his left forearm where his soulmark was. Covering the deep, long slash Torao got from Blackbeard days ago. Chopper said it was likely going to scar, marring his skin forever.

Leaving a mark where only Luffy’s presence should be…

All the while Luffy was on Egghead and completely unaware anything was wrong until after the crew and everyone else got to safety and he thought to check Torao’s vivre card.

They were lucky Bepo was able to get Law to safety before anything worse happened to him, or any of the Heart Pirates.

“It’s just…” Luffy gestured with his hand vaguely. “We’re gonna go our separate ways again. I wanna have something to connect to you.”

“You have my vivre card. I have yours. Pretty sure Nami-ya still has Bepo’s. We have literal soulmarks. You even made us get fucking tattoos,” Law pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Luffy groaned and looked away, turning to study the fish swimming happily in the aquarium. “It’s slow, okay? If your heart is with me, I’ll know immediately that I need to check your vivre card.”

When Law didn’t say anything for a while, Luffy glanced back at him. He was surprised to find Law’s own eyes boring into him, studying Luffy’s expression and searching his eyes for something. What that something was, Luffy had no idea… but he decided to wait until Law found it—or gave up.

It took a long while for either of them to say anything; they quietly looked at each other, the silence hanging around them heavy but somehow, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Rather, it felt like a sense of understanding connected them, an invisible string that tied them together and linked them and their thoughts. Somehow, Luffy wouldn’t mind sitting here like this all afternoon. For some reason, he didn’t think he’d even get bored.

… Okay, maybe not the whole afternoon but he could definitely do a few minutes no problem!

But that wasn’t the point.

“What is this really about, Straw Hat-ya?”

Luffy froze at the question, blinking at Law blankly. What was it about? He didn’t really think about it when he suggested the heart swapping, didn’t bother searching for a reason. Thinking wasn’t his strong suit, after all; the idea occurred to him and it felt right so he just said it… But well—

“I don’t know! Does it matter?” Luffy asked, tilting his head to the side. “It’s not a big deal, and I know you’ve done it already two years ago!”

Law startled at the revelation, obviously not expecting Luffy to know. He stared at Luffy with wide eyes for a moment, before a groan escaped him. “It was Penguin, wasn’t it?”

“Yep!” Luffy confirmed with a laugh. “He also said you told him you’d toss him overboard if he ever told me.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Law grumbled, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “It was a temporary measure to help with treatment. You basically had a volcano erupt in your lungs and you’d have died if I didn’t do it. There’s no medical reason now.”

“Was there one back then though?” Luffy teased, poking Law’s shoulder. “I mean, you could have used anyone’s heart. Or just left me be!”

Seeing the scowl Torao gave him, Luffy couldn’t help but burst out laughing. That only seemed to make Law more annoyed… which in turn made Luffy laugh harder.

“You’re right, I should have just let you die,” Torao grumbled, rolling his eyes at Luffy’s amusement.

With one last snicker, Luffy shuffled closer, pressing a quick, loud kiss to Law’s cheek before he poked Torao’s side again. “I think your reason was the same as mine is now,” he said quietly.

“I’m not lying on the operating table with a hole in my chest, connected to a ventilator and on the verge of total heart failure,” Law shot back, his voice completely flat and entirely unimpressed.

“Maybe, but when I saw your vivre card, I still thought I’d lost you for a moment. I never wanted to feel that way again after Mingo almost killed you.” Luffy shrugged.

When Law didn’t say anything, Luffy hummed, looking at Law questioningly, only to find a complicated expression on his face. Did he say something weird? He didn’t think he did but seeing how Torao was staring at him…

“What did I say?!” Luffy cried out defensively, only for Law to heave a deep sigh.

“You’re saying that? Did you forget you actually died not three weeks ago?” Law said, narrowing his eyes at Luffy.

That only served to prove Luffy right! “See?!” He grinned victoriously. “We’re thinking the same thing!”

“We are so not,” Law hissed.

Waving his hand dismissively, Luffy shuffled closer still, throwing his legs over Torao’s lap as he made himself comfortable in his personal space. Law didn’t seem to mind, automatically placing one hand over Luffy’s knee. Luffy’s smile widened at the gesture.

“Torao~” he sang. “Let's do it.”

“You’re such a brat.” Law sighed, shooting Luffy an annoyed look and Luffy grinned victoriously—making Torao click his tongue. “Wipe that look off your face, you won nothing.”

“But you’re gonna do it so I win!” Luffy announced, sticking his tongue out.

As Law rolled his eyes at him and a Room formed around the two of them, Luffy felt warmth pooling in his chest, spreading throughout his entire body. Wow, he really loved this man, didn’t he? It was ridiculous; it felt like every day, he was falling deeper—soulmate or not, it didn’t matter to him.

The birdcage he carried on his thigh didn’t matter to him—it was crushed anyway, just like Law’s chain was snapped, just like it should be. They didn’t need their soulmarks. They didn’t need fate.

And seeing Law’s heart, watching as it beat strongly in his hands, feeling its warmth as he inserted it into his own chest…

He was never more sure of that.

Never more sure this was where he should be.

#one piece #lawlu #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #luffy #monkey d luffy #opfanfic #lawlu fanfic #lawlumonth2024 #fluff #idk what to tag #my brain said 'see ya' and went off somewhere like an hour ago and i'm just sitting here like 'now what'#took me 10 minutes to come up with a summary and then another 10 for a title #and i still don't like either but it's whatever at this point ahahaha #i'll try to get the next one out before next thursday but. yeah.#i WILL try to finally force myself to post my animals and mlm zine pieces soon tho #ANYWAY #katie does a write #katie pretends to fic

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rearranged-fanfic · 8 months ago

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(Update 6/3)

Sit down a spell, weary traveler. Come and sit by my fire; bask in the warmth of the flame and rest your aching scrolling finger. You'll be sitting a while, for I have a tale to tell:

Okay, so I've had a Toshiba laptop for the better part of ten years. Maybe a little longer. That laptop has survived being struck by lightning, submerged in a bathtub, and literally having a whole bookcase topple down onto it. I thought it was immortal...

I was sadly mistaken.

About six months ago, I noticed that the typing was getting sluggish. I'd patter away at the keyboard and the letters would appear with a bit of lag. That's fine, since I use Dragon to talk-to-text for quite a bit of my writing. I really only use the keyboard for final assembly, editing, and doing quick rewrites. So, it really didn't bother me. Fastforward to April, which we will call The Great Depression. The time discrepancy between typing and having letters appear on screen became a whopping 40 seconds. Yes, I timed it.

But that was okay, because I could still use my Dragon headset.

Until I couldn't.

It would connect, but the words wouldn't appear on screen. I made sure that all of my programs were up-to-date, and that everything was working. The headset connected to my family's computers just fine. So that meant it was something wrong with mine.

Without being sure if it was the hardware or software at fault, I backed everything up to OneDrive and Google Docs.

I factory reset.

Twice. To no avail.

Over the next few days, my laptop stopped registering any keyboard input at all. It got to a point where I wasn't able to turn it on or off.

Taking it to an electronics store to get repaired didn't help, either. No luck. They said that it would be more cost effective to just buckle down and get a new one, since the age of the laptop meant that I would probably be constantly maintaining it.

My poor Toshiba died kicking and screaming, putting up a fight worthy of an epic ballad.

I saved up for a few weeks, got a new laptop, and went through the rigmarole of getting all of my programs back on it. My files are in order. My life is in shambles (but that's normal, LOL).

I DID do some story work without my computer, but... it's bad. Like, I'd die in shame if I posted anything that I thumbed in. So. Many. Spelling. Errors. How people write on their phone is beyond me. That's a talent I simply don't possess.

At this point, I'm thinking of renaming this story "HIATUS" lol. JK. But I'm seriously peeved that this happened after my last big break. Why couldn't the Depression and laptop breakdown coincide nicely? I guess that's too much to ask of the universe *Shakes fist at the sky*.

I'm creating a damn bingo card for every stupid thing that happens to me while I try to write. Because this is getting ridiculous. I broke my fingers, there was a total solar eclipse, I had a major-ish mental breakdown, and my computer bit the big one. With a free space, that's a bingo. Let's hope I don't get a blackout before the end of 2024.

I doubted the fanfiction curse. I really did. But it's apparently real. And this writer's curse has teeth, people. It bites hard.

I have my MerMay two-shot pretty well done (because I was typing it during The Great Depression), but the next chapter for REARRANGED is still rough. Crimson Chapter 3 is halfway done, but who knows how long that'll take.

The bottom line is that I'm alive and still working on the stories. The next update on this blog will be the posting of several chapters for a few different works. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm very, very slowly answering the comments in my AO3 inbox. Some of them were pretty lengthy, so it might take a bit. Oof.

If there ever comes a time that I drop this fanfiction or am unable to continue for whatever reason, either I or my husband will be posting the entirety of my outline, as well as anything that's been pre-written for you guys to enjoy. That way there are no questions left unanswered or mysteries unsolved.

#rearrangedfanfic #behind the scenes #update #AO3 bingo

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aftgtandn · 1 year ago

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We’ve been saying it this whole time but let us repeat just once more: you are INCREDIBLE. Your support of the fest and of everyone’s works is what made this possible.

We are so so grateful for your support and the reception the fest has had — we can’t take you enough for it.

It’s really been a blast, and you guys made it all possible. The guessing game and all of your attempts have been incredible to see (not to mention the bingo cards and all the memes you made!) and we know you’re all excited to see which of your guesses were right and who managed to fool you all the way until now…

We know it’s been a lot to keep up with (7 stunning art pieces, over 270k words worth of fic!!) so please continue to leave comments and kudos for our incredible participants and keep giving them ALL the love they deserve as you catch up post reveals. 🧡

To our amazing creators: Be sure to tag us when you're posting your work on your Tumblr & Twitter accounts, so that we can keep promoting you!

You can find all of the fest works in our AO3 collection, but we know what's you're really wondering right now... WHO MADE WHAT??

Without further ado… here’s the full list of works and their creators:

(JOHN 16:24)

by jinjjasyuga Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 0 words Summary: Andrew asked so he received. (Literally.)

You Know I'm Good On My Own

by sambutwithbooks Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Gen // 4568 words Summary: Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.) ------- Written for the AFTG Then & Now Fest prompt from alecgo: Andrew breaks his arm. They deal with everything that follows.

10 Times We Fell a Little More in Love with Kevin Day

by gleefulfoxes Kevin Day Gen // 2897 words Summary: Ten times Kevin Day stole our hearts and earned his rightful place as the internet's jock bf

Hold Me Like a Knife

by Moondal Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 1068 words Summary: What touch Andrew can tolerate he has wrestled from the minefield of his past, fought a one-man guerilla war against long-gone ghosts. The ground he has gained for himself is massive as is. He can stay within known spaces and be safe. And yet. - Thoughts on touch and an exploration of new intimacy.

nocturnal animals

by animediac Abby Winfield, Betsy Dobson, Gen Gen // 11621 words Summary: “He was an addict,” Taylor says roughly, turning away to unplug the blender. “He wouldn’t accept help and he didn’t care who he hurt with it by the end.” “He was our brother,” Abby says, sadly. “I know,” Taylor tells her. “That was the worst part."" — Memory takes the graveyard shift. Abby Winfield works nights.

Peaches and Cream

by Random2002 Aaron Minyard, Katelyn Explicit // 7119 words Summary: It's certainly well known that Aaron Minyard was head over heels for his girlfriend, Katelyn. In fact, when they are inspired one evening to try something new in the bedroom he's all for giving it a shot even though he's nervous. Who knows, maybe he'll discover something new about himself? Or: Aaron gets Pegged

Reaching Out

by TogeMythia Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 6154 words Summary: ‘What are you thinking about getting?’ Neil smiled as he propped his chin in his hands. Andrew sat himself back against the leather of the booth and gestured to his chest. For a moment Neil didn't understand, but then the realization hit him all at once. ‘Oh.’ - or Andrew gets his nipples pierced

Invisible Smoke

by ScornedEthnographer Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Mature // 1233 words Summary: Smoking was one of the very few things in Andrew’s life that he could count as his. One of the very few constants that he allowed himself to rely on, to expect, to trust. It came from years of repetition, the same billowing taste of acrid smoke on his tongue, the stale stinging in his lungs. It was the same, over and over and over again. It was a rare constant. One of the ""few and far between”s. Unusual. Uncommon. Peculiar. But not the only one.

Quit Horsin’ Around

by JosenlovesMinyard Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 2486 words Summary: Kevin persuades the Foxes to take part in a trail ride whilst staying at the cabin. Neil finds it a lot more enjoyable than he thought he would.

Victory Lap

by justadreamfox Kevin Day, Jeremy Knox Explicit // 7665 words Summary: Kevin gets two things he's always wanted: Olympic gold and Jeremy Knox.

Truck driver POV

by Habakos Neil Josten Gen // Art Summary: First truck driver that lets Neil tag along at the gas station

on the cusp of getting it right

by orionauriga Aaron Minyard, Andrew Minyard Teen // 11145 words Summary: “So,” Neil begins, with a smirk that informs Aaron in the space of one syllable that his mood is about to take a running leap out the car window and splatter gorily across the interstate. “Is it true that you don’t have a license?” -- Andrew teaches Aaron to drive. It goes...about how you would expect.

The Golden Pipe Dream

by Gforce Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day Gen // 8564 words Summary: Neil, Andrew, and Kevin compete in the 2012 Summer Olympics.

Last Straw

by mrskrementz Neil Josten, Mary Hatford Teen // 3478 words Summary: What happened in the Wesninksi household in the week leading up to Mary taking Nathaniel on the run? A look at the pre-canon events from Mary's POV

Goner

by gus_47 Kevin Day, Aaron Minyard Mature // 4871 words Summary: Aaron is the first to notice that Kevin’s alcoholism is an actual problem. He’s an addict, too — he never misses the signs.

I hate you

by itsdill01 Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Mature // 1233 words Summary: Andrew finds out about Nicky’s sexual assault on Neil.

Trials and Tribulations of Wrangling Foxes

by HalfpintPeach Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Gen Gen // 8419 words Summary: When the girls graduate, Neil is standing on his own as Captain of the Palmetto State Foxes.

I find you a little distracting

by lazarusthefirst Neil Josten, Kevin Day Explicit // 6562 words Summary: Kev and Neil fuck on the foxhole court

Weight Bearing

by Justthislazy Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 4385 words Summary: Prompt: Andrew is Strong He carries Neil around and Neil is not ok. Can lead to NSFW but mainly I just want Neil being flustered about how strong Andrew is.

probably be fine

by foodforthot1 Allison Reynolds, Renee Walker Explicit // 8978 words Summary: Once they go pro, Renee and Allison end up on the same team. Now that they’ve made it out of the college/mafia drama, they can finally stop denying the spark between them

Andrew Minyard has no problem carrying around Neil Josten

by emry_stars Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Gen // words Summary: Three images (two full/one chibi style) of Andrew carrying Neil in various situations. One image (chibi) of Neil attempting to pick up Andrew

in the middle

by stabbyfoxandrew Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten, Kevin Day Explicit // 9900 words Summary: After a night of drinking has them talking about sex, Andrew reveals that his biggest fantasy is taking Neil and Kevin at the same time. They're both surprised, but very willing to make it happen. Andrew just has to decide if he likes the idea now that it's out of his head. [Set ten years post canon. Kandreil are married and living together and sooo in love.]

Buzz cut season

by H_bee69 Neil Josten, Aaron Minyard, Nicky Hemmick Teen // 2192 words Summary: Neil's bored but Nicky and Aaron keep him company

Complexity of the aftermath

by tathatisbrightassun Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Allison Reynolds, Kevin Day, Dan Wilds, Matt Boyd, Aaron Minyard, Nicky Hemmick, Renee Walker, Betsy Dobson, David Wymack Gen // 6545 words Summary: Betsy didn’t know what to say. When David called her after the holidays and said that some of the foxes would require an extra session with her she got a bit concerned. However, when every single fox, including Neil, booked a session, she had only one question in mind. What the actual fuck happened in Baltimore? Betsy learns about Baltimore events and she has thoughts.

Dream clouds, ghost ground (I’ve been looking at the sky to show me where I went wrong)

by Ateiluj Gen Mature // 11457 words Summary: Cass Spear deals with her son’s death, the truths that it reveals, and how it all reshapes her past with Andrew.

The Foxes go to Disneyland

by KittKatAttack Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Dan Wilds, Matt Boyd, Nicky Hemmick, Kevin Day, Aaron Minyard, Allison Reynolds, Renee Walker, Katelyn, Erik Klose Gen // 1547 words Summary: The foxes go to Disneyland and chaos ensues

Give, Bequeath & Devise

by the_greater_grief Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 2502 words Summary: Neil inherits the Baltimore house.

worth it

by mostly_maudlin Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 1960 words Summary: ""What makes you think I want you fighting on my behalf?” Andrew asks. Neil pulls the ice pack from his face, features tightening with a new spark of anger. “What makes you think I care if you want me to?” he asks. “It’s my choice. And I will always choose to fight for you.”

Andreil Marriage

by TeoMoy Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Gen // words Summary: Andrew and Neil getting married in the woods, with Wymack officiating and the foxes there.

right here every day

by rwnjun Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Mature // 8855 words Summary: Neil's new cat does not like Andrew.

i needed someone i could run to

by seasy33 Kevin Day, David Wymack Teen // 8608 words Summary: The idea of a father didn't occur to Kevin until after his mother died. The story about a letter, and the terrifying ordeal of finding your family.

The Later Parade

by hourafterhour Kevin Day, Jean Moreau Mature // 41152 words Summary: No such thing as a bad pass to Kevin Day.

andrew gets his nips pierced

by maddervanilla Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten Mature // words Summary:

What Makes a Family

by Aquared46 Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 9671 words Summary: Post-Baltimore, the Foxes take a vacation in the mountains. During that time, the Foxes get to know Neil better, and Neil gets to know himself better too. OR 8 times Neil is taken care of by his teammates and +1 time Neil learns what it means to take care of himself.

Andrew Doe, Juvenile Delinquent (Art)

by WymackAndCheese Andrew Minyard Teen // 0 words Summary: Digital illustration of Andrew Minyard in a Juvenile Detention Center, pre-The Foxhole Court

Mind over Matt-er

by Twolipsliterature Dan Wilds, Matt Boyd Teen // 2633 words Summary: ""The first time the girls saw Matt shirtless, it was distraction enough to forget their conversation."" -AFTG EC Dan likes to pretend she's unaffected by Matt's charms and unbelievably hot body. Even she knows what bullshit that is.

A wall at your back

by djhedy Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten Teen // 4628 words Summary: Foxes get married

our gentle violence

by foxbyeol Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 1996 words Summary: The opposite of cruel is always gentle and that is what everyone expects from you when you care for someone else. They treat it as a delicate, breakable thing. But the connection between them wasn't hanging on my thread of porcelain. Hands that were never taught to be gentle only know how to ground by a firm touch. A touch that is not punishing like so many of those who preceded them but a pushing want which is not only welcomed but desired. And there is a freedom in that, getting the space to be rough without ""cruelty"", a gentle violence they have made their own. OR, Andrew and Neil roughhouse and play around together without much consequences - the only being the rewarding kind.

Against The Wall

by Mystrana Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 2882 words Summary: After years together, Andrew's finally gotten to a point where he can request exactly what he wants from Neil. And in this case? He wants to be railed up against the wall.

transferable skills

by decaflondonfog Jeremy Knox, Jean Moreau Explicit // 11111 words Summary: It’s the way Jean watches his own hands as he guides the thread through the paper, pulling the gathering tight to the spine. It’s the way Jean bends, strong and handsome, over a tiny embroidery hoop to get the details exactly right. Jeremy Knox is supposed to be spending his senior year worrying about what comes next. Instead, he’s mesmerized as he watches each stitch come to life and finds, there in between the threads, something completely unexpected.

a mother's love

by Greenfallleaves Neil Josten, Mary Hatford Teen // 9259 words Summary: In the hell that was Neil's childhood, there were good moments too. Almost all of them included his mother. Mary cared about her boy. Or 5 relatively peaceful moments from Neil's childhood.

we're one (there's nothing to be done)

by wesawbears Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 2345 words Summary: After Neil is injured, he and Andrew come face to face with how quickly everything they've worked for can be taken away when the Moriyama's check up on their investment. The two will be forced to face the emotions created by the deal that was made so long ago.

When Did You Learn That?

by Geneat Neil Josten, Gen Teen // 2635 words Summary: ""I thought Andrew was the lockpick to watch out for,"" Matt said dryly. ""It's a Masterlock,"" Neil said dismissively. Then, with no finesse at all, he jiggled the rod violently and the lock popped open. ""A toddler can open it.""

glittering eyes, sweet smile

by starscrossingfates Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Gen // 0 words Summary: Whenever Neil laughed, Andrew looked at Neil as if he was the sun itself. And Andrew was a planet unequivocally caught in his orbit. [Art]

Not fast enough

by OhThePain_333 Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 2797 words Summary: Andrew has a violent nightmare in which Neil dies. It unsettles him a lot. He needs comfort and Neil's hugs. They talk about their respective nightmares and cuddle.

Layover

by justadreamfox Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten Explicit // 3064 words Summary: The geography is fucked, but he has Neil tonight, even if it's barely more than a layover. Or, prompt #17: Andreil bang ON the mas.

hot girl bummer (we've shipped kevin to california it's fine don't worry about it JUST KEEP GOING)

by alcego Kevin Day, Jeremy Knox, Jean Moreau Explicit // 9258 words Summary: For the first time in his life, Jean has the opportunity for a quiet, uneventful summer. Instead, he has with two (fake) boyfriends who keep flirting with each other by proxy, a bone-deep weariness that's doing more to his skin than the sun, and a looming sense of inevitability about it all. He can handle one of those problems.

dashboard saints

by nanatsuyu Kevin Day, Andrew Minyard Explicit // 7750 words Summary: Andrew stands in his own way when it comes to most things in his life. Kevin Day is not an exception.

Local Man Gets Injured Getting Friend (?) Off, Says “Worth It”

by kunimi Kevin Day, Aaron Minyard Mature // 7645 words Summary: “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Neil says. There’s something thoughtful in his tone, and it takes all of Kevin’s willpower not to immediately glance at Aaron. Instead, Kevin lifts his head slowly, scanning over all his friends’ faces with a deliberate casualness. As soon as his gaze crosses over Aaron, though, he realises he has no idea what to say. They haven’t – talked about it. Not really. (Two hours ago, Aaron was teasing him about being in a rush, and Kevin’s focus had been on how flustered he was in the moment. Now, all he can think about is Aaron’s first comment. Romantic, Aaron says dryly, shaking his head. Romantic, romantic, romantic. Kevin wants. Kevin aches.) There are probably worse ways to reveal new developments in your love life than getting benched, baffling your team’s medical personnel, and accidentally announcing your sex-related mishaps to your entire professional team’s management and several members of your college one. Kevin can’t think of any right now, though. —is it a 22-night stand or a relationship? kevin day's guide to soft-launching your new man [it’s long 💀💀💀 so the bottom part is more useful for a summary, the top bit is excerpt]

hypocorisms

by mostly_maudlin Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard Teen // 2183 words Summary: Three times Andrew calls Neil “rabbit,” and one time he calls him “bunny.”

Thank you all SO MUCH!!

With all the love and appreciation in the world,

Your Then&Now 2023 fest mods

#aftg #all for the game #aftgthenandnow #aftgthenandnow23 #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #aftg fic #aftg art

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

after - part twenty-two

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you agree to something...unexpected.

a/n: we're in the SHOW PLOT BABIESSSSS ugh I'm having so much fun with this 🤍

word count: 5.1k

warnings: canon-typical violence, you know the drill.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

“I don’t know where he is, Liv, I swear.”

You sigh, leaning back in your chair, and dig in your pocket. You produce two ration cards, the highest value kind, and slide them across the table. “Now, you and I both know that’s a load of bullshit, Ted. So why don’t you stop wasting my time and tell me where Robert is?”

Ted’s a good kid. A little screwed up, sure, but so is every other kid that was born on the edge of the outbreak. He’s helped you out with a few jobs here and there, but lately, he’s been running shit for Robert, which made him the obvious first choice to find out where your least favourite smuggler had run off to.

You watch Ted’s eyes dart between the ration cards on the table between you and over your shoulder to where Joel and Tess are standing. Joel’s stance is wide, his hands shoved in his pockets, his brow hard. His eyes are glued to you, and you follow Ted’s eyes, glancing back at your husband and your friend.

“Don’t worry about them,” you tell the kid. “Look at me.”

“I told you, Liv, I don’t know where—”

“You don’t know where he is, yep, I heard you the first time. But I know it’s bullshit, because I know for a fact you were running a job for Robert three days ago, before my ass ended up in lock-up. And I also know that I saw you just outside the warehouse district, and ten minutes later, I have FEDRA all over me. You screwed me, so give me this, and I won’t let Joel break your jaw.”

The kid whimpers.

You reach into your pocket, pull out another card. “Now, Ted. Or I walk.”

His throat bobs, but he reaches for the cards. Bingo. “T-there’s a red-tagged building, Stillman and Cross. He said he was taking the battery there, that he had someone else who would pay triple what Tess offered.”

You stare him down for a moment. “You know what happens if I find out you’re lying, don’t you?”

His eyes shift from your face back to Joel over your shoulder. “I do.”

“Broken jaws take a long time to heal,” you say almost casually, and Ted nods. You slide out of your seat. “See you around, kid.”

As soon as you’re close enough, Joel and Tess start to walk, and you fall into step with them, fitting yourself between them both. “Well?” Joel prompts, his hand finding the small of your back.

“Cost me three cards,” you tell them, “but he told me. Red-tagged building at Stillman and Cross.”

Joel’s brow lifts. “Wasn’t that a Firefly building, back when Tommy joined?”

Tess nods. “It was. Then they emptied out, and Miguel took over.” Her eyes shift to you, and she clears her throat. “It was empty again, last I heard.”

You shake a memory away. “I have a thought. We take the subway tunnel under Haymarket, that gets us into the building from below, and we can take him by surprise. He’ll never see us coming, and if all three of us go, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Pay this fucker back,” Joel says, and you can’t help your grin.

You go back to the apartment. Tess heads up to her place to get her bag, and the moment you’re through the door, you beeline for the wardrobe, digging out your guns, your knives, the bat. Joel had reluctantly put everything away after you’d convinced him not to go straight after Robert. You needed to be smart about it, to get the battery, and once the plan was more fleshed out, when you realized Ted would know where Robert was and you had a place to start, he softened slightly.

Only slightly.

Time has made Joel harder. It’s made you both harder, both new versions of yourselves you hadn’t anticipated turning into. The last decade has pushed you both to your limits, in every goddamn sense, but still, your love for each other? That’s never so much as wavered. Never.

It’s mostly weapons, in your bags. Ration cards, emergency supplies on the off-chance you need to make a quick getaway after you confront Robert. Bolt cutters. Ideally, you’ll go, scare the shit out of him, get the battery, then come back home. You’ll plan a real route, get the truck from Lee, and off you go.

It’s pouring rain, by the time you meet Tess in the lobby and step back out into the streets. Joel keeps a tight grip on your hand as you head towards the subway, and all three of you are soaked to the bone when you reach Haymarket, you and Tess standing in front, trying to look casual while Joel clips the chain on the door with the bolt cutters.

You all step through, crouching to fish flashlights out of your packs. The bat is tucked between your shoulders, mostly hidden by your bag, but you go for your gun instead. “Ready?” Tess asks, and you both nod, heading down the stairs.

The flashlight beams light the way, revealing mouldy walls, cracks in the ceiling letting rainwater drip down over you. Joel shoves his hand through his hair, wet strands slicking back across his scalp, and you can’t stop yourself from thinking idly that he looks good.

The steps down were at least partially lit between your flashlights and the diffused daylight coming through the windows, but as you descend into the subway tunnel itself, it’s nearly pitch black. Not a shock — you used to meet people down here all the time to trade — but it still makes your gut twist. A few years back, you’d heard rumours about a swarm of Infected that had stumbled in through the opposite end, which fed out into the open city. No more subway drops for you.

There are multiple doorways that lead up from the tunnels, the few you’ve used over the years to get out of the QZ proper, others that have helped when you almost got caught out after curfew. There are a few offices, maintenance rooms and supply bunkers that have served in a pinch.

“That’s the one,” Tess says, pointing to one of the little staircases that lead up from the subway rail itself. She goes first, and you follow, Joel close behind, his hand bumping your leg as you walk up the few steps. Tess opens the door, stepping inside, and you go to follow again, but Joel hooks his fingers into your back pocket, stalling you.

There’s no noise, at first, and you move toward the doorway. When Tess’s shouted oh fuck! echoes through the tunnel, you bolt forward, gun raised, with Joel a half-step behind you. “What?”

Then you see it. The far wall of the office. You can just barely make out the body within the fungus, nothing human left, just cordyceps spreading across the tile. The face open in a silent roar, fungi sprouting from the mouth, the eyes, the ears. Frozen in place, creeping in every direction. Taking over, even buried beneath the earth.

“This one’s done,” Joel declares, shining his light on what used to be the person’s face. That’s one thing you’ve learned about the Infected, over the years: nothing lasts forever. The infection can only push the human body so far, and it gets to the point where there’s nothing left for the infection to puppet.

Beside you, Tess exhales sharply, a hand pressed to her chest. “Yeah, I know, I just…I wasn’t expecting it.”

Joel glances at you. “That wasn’t down here last time?”

You shake your head. “Nothing was. But when was the last time we were here, Tess? A year? Two?”

“More than that,” she answers, sweeping her flashlight beam over the body. “You think he came down after he was infected?”

Joel sighs, and his words send a prickle through you. “Maybe down here is where he was infected.”

Tess stares at the body for a moment before she turns away. You clear your throat, tap your flashlight to Joel’s. “Let’s keep moving.”

The office leads into a narrow hallway, a series of ladders that have been tied and strapped together leaned against the wall. Probably not up to code, but it’ll do. Tess slides her flashlight into the strap of her bag, and you and Joel do the same, both peering up as Tess grips the ladder and starts moving up. “It’s like they reframed the whole structure,” Joel says, tapping your ass as you move to follow Tess. “Probably in the eighties. Everyone was cutting down on apartment sizes to sell more condos.”

Tess pauses, shooting you a look over her shoulder. “This has been Construction Corner with Joel Miller.”

You sputter out a laugh, the ladder wobbling in your grip, and when you look behind you, Joel looks less than impressed. “Hey, I’d watch it.”

“Sure you would,” he grunts, swatting your ankle. “Keep goin’.”

A few more rungs before you call out to Tess. “How far up we gonna go?”

“Uh,” she pauses, swinging her boot off the rung and onto what looks like solid floor, “this far.”

You all shuffle off the ladder one by one, Joel grabbing your hand when you offer it, while Tess pushes on the makeshift door cut into the drywall from the inside. It’s been a long time since you and her came in this way. “This opens into the hallway,” she says, more for Joel’s benefit than your own. “What the fuck? Someone put a piano in front of this?”

Joel sweeps his flashlight over the ceiling, catching on old pieces of insulation and cracked drywall. As Tess pushes on the door again, something hits your nose and you wince, the telltale tang of wasted ammunition curling at the back of your throat. “Wait,” you whisper, grabbing her forearm, stopping her from moving the door again. “You smell that?”

“Gunpowder,” Joel answers, and the beam of his flashlight traces the door, down to the bottom, where you see a thin drip of blood seeping through the bottom crack, pooling on the floor. “Shit.”

Both you and Joel draw your guns, and you push forward, Joel calling your name as you shove your shoulder into the door, sliding it open. The body that was leaned against it slumps over as you step through, peering around, something in you twisting when you see the dead man’s face.

Robert.

“Fuck,” you murmur, stepping through the door completely, your gun still raised. Joel’s right behind you, his brow furrowed, Tess a step behind him. Both their flashlights rake over Robert’s body, and over the car battery on the ground beside him. Tess steps towards the battery, inspecting it closer, while you turn to Joel, seeing the displeasure on his face. “The fuck happened here?”

He just shakes his head, jaw set, mouth a firm line.

“Well, the battery’s no good,” Tess informs you, nudging it with her boot. “And he still tried to sell it. Twice.”

“You’re shocked?” you scoff, glancing up the hall. There are more Fireflies, all of them riddled with bullets, bodies propped against the wall. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit. Greedy fuck.”

Someone lets out a pained groan, somewhere nearby, and you all jump on the defence, guns raised. Joel steps in front of you as you move down to where the hallway crosses with another, and you move to his right side. There’s mumbled conversation, words you can’t make out as Joel presses himself to the wall, inching towards the corner.

“Shit…Oh god, just…fuck!”

Joel turns the corner, and you’re quick to follow, both of you with your guns raised, steps silent as you creep closer towards the two women toward the end of the hall, one helping the other to her feet.

Suddenly, the door you’re barely in front of swings inward, a young girl shouting as she surges forward, a knife raised. Joel moves quicker than you, blocking the blow and sending her to the floor with a grunted fuck. The knife hits the floor, and Joel swings his gun towards the girl. She looks up at him with an almost feral look in her dark eyes, baring her teeth at him.

She looks young, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale. She’s got dark-coloured Converse on her feet, and for some reason, it makes you smile.

The sound of guns cocking rips your eyes from the young girl, and you turn to see the two women at the end of the hallway both with pistols pointed in your direction. “Liv?”

“Marlene?” you reply, officially confused as shit.

She stares at you for a long moment, her face pinched in pain before her eyes drop to the girl. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” the girl replies, her eyes still glued to Joel.

She goes for the knife, but Joel puts his boot over the blade before she can grab it. She bares her teeth again. “Ellie,” Marlene calls, assumedly the girl’s name, but she’s too busy sneering at Joel. “Ellie.”

Ellie whips her head in Marlene’s direction, and instantly, you see the fear that works across the young girl’s face. “Oh, shit!” she gasps.

Marlene loosens her grip on the gun, tilted the barrel of it away from your head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be all right.” You see her face fall slightly. “You can’t be stupid like this.”

Yep, you’re fucking confused.

Tess, who you’d left inspecting the battery, rounds the corner. “So this is who Robert screwed us over with?” she asks, moving up to stand beside you. “The Che Guevara of Boston?”

You scoff, jutting your chin at Marlene. “War must be goin’ pretty shitty for you to be buying from scumbags like him. I know we screwed you once or twice, but at least you didn’t end up with a bullet in your gut.”

“Yeah, it’s been a fucking stretch,” Marlene asks, sagging against the wall slightly. “The merch was bad, and he obviously didn’t take fuck off for an answer.”

You squint at Marlene, but your ears prick when you hear Ellie mutter, “Give me my knife.”

“What do you need a car battery for?” Joel asks, ignoring the girl at his feet. Ellie reaches forward, and both you and Joel swing your guns at her. “Don’t.”

“Not at her,” Marlene nearly shouts, both her and the woman standing beside her lifting their guns again, pointing at you both. Tess lifts hers, aiming for Marlene. “Point it at me.”

Joel gives you a look before glancing down at Ellie, who’s pressed herself against the wall, her hands raised in surrender. She looks fucking terrified. “Joel,” you murmur, pointing your gun away from the girl, toward Marlene and her friend. He follows suit, and you hear Ellie’s relieved exhale.

“To answer your question,” Marlene says, “I need it for a better reason than you do. No offence, but Tommy’s just one man.”

“What the…” Joel mutters, but you reach out with the hand not holding your gun, touch his chest.

“Who told you we’re going after Tommy?”

Marlene almost laughs. “It’s our business to know things. You of all people should know that, Liv.”

“To know things,” Joel repeats, and you can see the anger creeping up his spine, feel it in the heavy beat against your palm. “You’re the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me.”

“Okay, Joel,” Marlene mumbles, nearly rolling her eyes. Your own anger spikes.

“That was a lot of gunfire,” Marlene’s partner says. You don’t know her name. “FEDRA’s gonna be on their way.”

“I know,” she answers, and she stares at the kid at your feet for a long moment before speaking again, her voice louder. “We were gonna move Ellie outta the zone tonight.” Joel’s eyes flick down to the girl, and you watch him for a moment before your eyes move back to Marlene. “But we won’t make it anywhere like this. Not for a while, anyway. So now I’m thinkin’, you’re gonna do it.”

You squint at the woman. What…

Behind you, Tess: “Why the fuck would we do that?”

At the same time, Joel: “The hell we are.”

And Ellie: “I’m not going with them!”

You can’t read the expression on Marlene’s face. She’s in pain, clearly, but there’s something more to it. Something you’re certainly not used to seeing on the Queen of the Fireflies. But then it clicks.

She’s desperate.

“Liv,” Joel says, tearing your focus from Marlene, his gun still pointed at her, “we don’t have time for this.”

You meet his eyes for a sec before your gaze moves back to the Fireflies at the end of the hall. “Oh, you don’t have time?” Marlene calls, and she’s not even hiding the desperation anymore. You can hear it clear as day in her voice.

“Who is she?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, tilting your head towards the kid on the ground.

“To you?” Marlene shoots back. “She’s cargo.”

“We don’t smuggle people,” Joel nearly shouts, and you put your hand on his arm.

“I can do it,” the woman beside Marlene says, and the Queen snaps.

“Kim, you don’t have a fuckin’ ear on your fuckin’ head, could you please!” It’s only then that you realize that Marlene’s friend — Kim — has clearly taken a shot to the head, because most of her ear is missing, blood smeared down her neck. Marlene keeps talking, staring you down. “There’s a team of Fireflies waiting for her at the old State House.” Behind you, Tess scoffs. “I know what’s out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason.”

“An entire squadron,” you repeat, “and you want the three of us to do it?”

“I don’t have a truck, I don’t have a squadron,” Marlene says, “FEDRA’s five minutes away. What I do have is you. And I know what you’re all capable of. For better or worse.” Her eyes slide from you to Joel, and you inhale sharply.

At your feet, Ellie looks at you all warily. “What are they capable of?”

Marlene just keeps on talking. “You get her there safely, and they’ll get you what you need. Not just a battery, but the whole thing. Fuelled-up truck, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear.” Joel’s head turns to you, his jaw set. Somehow, this has become your call. “I swear,” Marlene says again.

Joel slides his boot across the ground, Ellie’s knife spinning out of reach. “Asshole!” she shouts, and as the three of you step away to deliberate, you stoop to the floor, scooping the thing up. It’s a simple thing, short blade, wooden handle with a metal switch. You slide your finger across the wood, feeling the weight of it in your palm, turning it over as you step back.

There are initials carved into the bottom, right along the edge of the wood. ASW.

“You trust her?” Tess asks you as you move away, Joel’s hand settling against your hip.

Joel shakes his head. “Me either,” you agree, giving a slight nod, “but she seems desperate.”

When Joel speaks, you don’t miss the thread of hope in his voice. “Firefly vehicle usually means repurposed FEDRA stuff,” he says, “so better-than-decent chance of makin’ it to Tommy in one of those.” He looks at you. “Get us to Lincoln too.”

You nod.

“The second we hand this kid over—” Tess starts, but Marlene’s voice cuts her off.

“Ya’ll talk it through, but please remember that I’m bleeding out.”

Joel reaches out and grabs your wrist, the hand holding the knife. His eyes are hard as you meet them, but he lifts his chin, and you nod.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” you call to Marlene, turning on your heel. “We take the kid to the State House, but we don’t hand her over until we get everything that we want. Everything. Guns, truck, ammo, whatever we ask for. Anyone so much as pauses, we kill her. Then and there.”

You’ve barely gotten the words out before Marlene agrees. “Deal.”

“Really?” Ellie quips, almost exasperated. “That fast?”

Marlene looks at her, that same desperation still laced in her voice. “You are all that matters. My team will not jeopardize that. Remember what I told you?” Ellie glances up at you, and you try to school your face neutral. “Now go get your bag. Now, Ellie.”

With a huff, the kid gets to her feet and stalks into the room she’d leapt out of. You all just stare each other down until she returns, a green and blue backpack in her hands. She stares at Marlene, and Tess turns on her heel, heading back down the hallway. Joel touches your arm, nodding his head in the direction Tess went. “Let’s go.”

Ellie stares Marlene down until she nods, and then spins, shoving Joel with her shoulder as she goes, plucking her knife out of your hand before pushing past you as well. Joel gives you a look, and you just shake your head.

“Miller,” Marlene calls, and both of you turn to look at her. “Don’t fuck this up. Please.”

Thunder rumbles, the moment you step foot back outside. It’s still early, nowhere near curfew, but you’re all quick to move through the city, circling back to the apartments. You need to regroup, gather more supplies, if you’re gonna make it to the State House.

What the fuck did you just agree to?

Tess leads the pack as you stride through the rain, Ellie behind her, you behind Ellie, Joel behind you. You don’t miss the way the kid pulls her hood over her face every time you pass a FEDRA soldier, flinches every time one of those big FEDRA trucks rolls past on the street.

Somewhere between the Firefly building and your apartment, Joel grabs your hand, pulls you back into step with him. “I don’t like this,” he says softly, his tone rough.

You lace your fingers with his. “I don’t either. Doing Marlene a favour wasn’t exactly high on my list of things to do. But if they pull through and get us what we need, then it’s worth it, right?”

The furrow in his brow deepens, but he squeezes your hand, gives a slight nod. “Right.”

It’s not long before you’re inside the building, climbing the stairs up to your floor. Ellie’s foot slips on one of the steps, nearly sending her tumbling back. Out of instinct, you grab her by the arm, pushing her back upright. She shoots you a look over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Thanks.”

You just nod.

Joel holds his hand out for the keys as you approach the apartment, unlocking the door after you toss them to him. You push the door open, stepping aside for Ellie to enter after Joel gestures for her to step forward. “Give us a minute,” you say, stepping back out into the hall, pulling the door shut. It earns you a shouted what the fuck! from the kid, but you ignore it.

“So, what’s the plan?” Tess asks, hands braced on her hips.

You breathe out a sigh, leaning back against the door. “When’s the last time we even made it near the State House?”

Joel pushes his hand through his hair. “Long way or short way.”

“We took the short way last time,” Tess says, glancing at you. “Nearly got ourselves killed.”

You chew your thumb. “So we take the long way? If things go bad, we’ll figure something out. Drop whatever we have to, head for Bill and Frank’s.”

“And what, leave the kid there?”

“If shit hits the fan, Lincoln first. We check on them, we resupply, and we head for Wyoming. Simple. There are more than enough cities between here and Wyoming with Firefly groups. Chances are we can find another one to drop her at.”

“Nothin’s ever fuckin’ simple, Liv,” Joel grunts, and you shoot him a glare. “Lee had the decency to warn me to stay off the streets tonight. Apparently, the Fireflies freaked FEDRA out, few guys got shot. This is risky.”

“Every single fucking thing we do is risky, Joel. If we wait this out any longer, someone’s gonna come snooping, or Marlene’s gonna rat us out and we’re gonna lose our window. You wanna get to Tommy, this is what we have to do.”

He just glares back.

“I’ll go check out the spot under Lancaster,” Tess offers, and you nod, your eyes stuck on Joel’s.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” you say. “I’ll come with you, keep an eye out. We should leave after dark.” You take a step away from your husband, your eyes still glued to his. “Stay with the kid.”

You start walking away before he can convince you otherwise, but you still hear his protests as you and Tess head back toward the stairs. “Wait. Why do I have to…Liv! Olivia!”

“You’re gonna pay for that one,” Tess mumbles as your feet hit the top step, both of your knees creaking as you make your way back down to the lobby. “He’s right, though. This is risky.”

“It’s all risky. Walking around in broad daylight is risky, these days.”

“You got me there.”

“I knew, you know,” you tell her, gripping the stair rail, “that eventually we’d leave Boston. Just never thought we’d be doing Marlene any fucking favours in the process.”

You reach the lobby, push back out onto the street. It’s still raining, but you weren’t inside long enough to feel dry, and your boots seem to find every puddle as you head toward Lancaster. It was one of the first spots you used, when you first started smuggling. A just-wide-enough storm drain that got hit in the bombings before the QZ walls went up, the tunnel under that opened up on the other side, a large slab of asphalt hiding the exit. More than once, FEDRA’s posted themselves in front of the entrance, close enough to the QZ wall that it gives them a good vantage point.

Today, not a soldier in sight.

“Good,” you mutter, glancing over your shoulder as you and Tess round the corner, trying to look as casual as possible. “We should head back through the market. Pick up some supplies. In case anyone’s tailing us.”

“You know, you’re just as paranoid as your husband, sometimes.”

“Oh, shut it.”

You only make it about ten feet before someone calls Tess’s name. You both freeze, and you haven’t seen Tess go that pale since the last time you ran into a Clicker.

Robin.

You turn slow, spotting Tess’s ex-girlfriend on the opposite side of the street. She’s dressed in full FEDRA gear, gun at her hip. Last you heard, she was still teaching at the school; what subject, you didn’t know, but clearly something that warranted her carrying a weapon. Maybe teaching the next generation of soldiers how to become shittier shots than the current ones.

Robin’s ponytail swings as she crosses the road to where you’re stood, her dark hair made darker by the rain. “Tess,” she says again, something unreadable in her voice. You don’t know her well enough to get a clear read on her. “Can we talk?”

Tess is rigid as hell at your side, and you turn to look at her. “Tess?”

“Yeah,” she says finally, returning your glance. “Give us a sec.”

With a nod, you wander a few steps back. You’re right at the edge of the market, and you busy yourself trading a couple ration cards for new bootlaces, glancing over at Tess and Robin every few moments. Tess looks exasperated, and when Robin reaches for her, your hand automatically wanders toward the gun tucked in the back of your waistband, hidden beneath your shirt. Tess grabs Robin’s wrist, her expression going hard as she drops her hand forcefully, making Robin stumble back a step.

Without another word, Tess stalks towards you, her face a hard mask. Behind her, Robin lingers in the street for a moment, staring after Tess, before her shoulders slump and she turns away, disappearing around the corner.

“What was that about?”

“Let’s go.”

You wander around the city another hour or so, waiting for the sky to darken, making sure no one’s following you. There are a few people that owe you favours, and you collect on a few, returning to the apartment shortly after curfew with a few extra boxes of ammunition, some dried beef, rolls of bandages.

When you push open the door of your apartment again, they’re both in the living room. Ellie’s perched on the chair by the window, a smug grin on her face, and Joel’s stood in front of the couch, like he just got up, hands braced on his hips. A familiar stance.

He doesn’t say anything as you and Tess step through the door, Tess shutting it behind you. Joel looks at you, then at Ellie, then back at you, his face expectant. “Lancaster looks good,” you say, pulling your coat and Joel’s off the hooks by the doors. Tess swings her back from her shoulders, pulls her own out. “Ellie, you got a jacket in your bag?”

“Yeah,” she answers, a streak of fear in her eyes as she looks at you.

“Okay,” you nod, “get it. It’s time to go.”

Joel walks over to you, taking his coat when you hold it out to him. He steps close to you, one hand finding a home on your bicep and squeezing. “You good?”

“Fine,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at where Tess is shrugging into her jacket. “We ran into Robin.”

Joel’s brow goes hard. “She…?”

“Tess didn’t tell me,” you reply, reaching up to brush an errant strand of hair from his forehead. “I don’t think she was suspicious. We were in the market, nothing out of the ordinary.” You incline your head toward Ellie. “How’s the kid?”

“Smart ass,” Joel grunts, and you have to stifle your laugh. “Seems scared though. Was askin’ me how many times we’ve done this, if we’d be okay.”

You nod. “We will be.”

“We going or what?” Tess calls, and you tug on Joel’s hand, all of you heading toward the door.

“Wait,” you say, and head for the bookshelf, reaching for the copy of Moby Dick that you’d cut the middle of out. You flip it open, pull out the portable radio Bill had given you. “Just in case.”

Joel just nods to you as you swing your bag from your shoulders, sliding the radio into one of the pockets. “We’ll see them soon,” he reassures you, and you just nod as you all step out of the apartment, pulling the door shut behind you.

You take one last glance around as the door swings closed. Who knows the next time you’ll see this place again.

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