#wonder how he's gonna fix this or if he even thinks he should try

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

not pressuring u but pls write for art donaldson:)

Warnings: Established relationship, Stanford era, Sleepy Art Donaldson being The Sweetest, hints of subby Art, smooches

"...You're doing it again, you know."

"What am I doing?"

"You're distracting me, Art."

"How? I'm laying still and I'm being quiet."

"You're staring at me."

"I'm not staring."

"Art."

"I'm not."

"What do you call it, then?"

"...Watching."

You turn your head, brows raised in disbelief, lips pursed as you try to fix him with a stern look. It doesn't hold. How can it, with the way he's smiling at you?

You can see how tired he is from the slow blinking of his heavy lids. It's a wonder that he's still awake; he's been curled up in your bed for the last half hour as you've tried to finish up a paper. It's nearly midnight, and you know that he's been up since six that morning. Between classes and practice, he's had an insanely long day.

"You should be sleeping," You scold.

"'m not tired."

"Bullshit."

He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and nuzzling your pillow.

"I'll wait."

"For what?"

"You to come to bed."

"Are you just going to stare at me until I do?"

"'Course not...I am gonna watch you, though."

You smile, sighing and saving your work before shutting your laptop.

"Alright."

"You're finished?"

"No, I'll finish it tomorrow."

"You sure?"

You hum affirmatively, stepping into your bathroom and cranking the faucet on. You make it through washing your face before you see movement in your periphery.

"I'll be there in a second," You promise as Art drifts into the room. "I'm just gonna brush my teeth."

Art cuddles up behind you, arms curling around your middle as he presses his face into your neck, drawing in a deep breath.

"You miss me already? It's been two minutes," You tease before lifting your toothbrush.

"Not just two minutes," Art insists. "Barely saw you today." He tips his head up, nuzzling your jaw. "I was thinkin' about you."

You smile, leaning down and rinsing your mouth out, wiggling your hips back against him as you hinge forward. Art groans low in his throat, thumbs dipping beneath your shirt and gently sweeping over your sides.

"I was thinking about you, too," You admit, turning to face him.

"Really?"

"Mhm. All day." Art's smile widens as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "We goin' to bed now?"

"In a minute." Art leans in, brushing his lips against yours. You smile, sliding a hand into his hair and parting your lips, teasing your tongue tenderly against his. He sighs into your kiss, hands snaking around your back to draw you closer into his chest. You break the kiss slowly, giving his hair a gentle tug and grinning as his eyelids flutter, a sweet flush spreading across his cheeks.

"Come on," You urge. "We can't have you sleep-walking through practice tomorrow."

--

Even with your eyes closed, in the dim room, you can still feel it. You shift a little, adjusting your covers.

"Art," You warn softly, "You're still doing it."

Art's hand cups your face, his thumb sweeping across your cheekbone.

"Baby," He murmurs, "If you were in my place, you'd stare, too."

[mammonsrockstargf]

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | BEELZEBUB

part of my kinktober | masterlist

beel can’t help but look a little bit too long towards the pretty angel that’s visiting the devildom. have angels always looked so... tasty?

pairing: beelzebub x gn! angel! reader, contents: corruption, virginity loss (reader), unprotected sex, praise, a lot of allusions to beel wanting to eat reader lol, some size kink sprinkled in too, a little dacryphilia i think, but overall beel is very sweet, pet names (angel) (is it a pet name if you literally are an angel?) wordcount: 2.2k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOCKS DO NOT INTERACT

Beelzebub watches you from afar, violet eyes trained on your form as you walk around. Simeon is with you, as well as Luke. The tiny angel hasn’t left your side since you arrived at Diavolo's palace. You take it with stride, Beelzebub thinks. You never seem to get bothered when Luke’s high-pitched voice reaches your ears, silently listening and smiling politely. 

Beel can’t exactly remember why you’re here. Something about expanding the exchange program, strengthening the connections. Bla bla bla. He watches you take a bite of your cake. It’s your third piece this evening. Do you eat when you get nervous too? Beelzebub's stomach growls. 

He thinks you’re very pretty. You’re wearing some sort of white cape. Lots of gold jewellery. It’s very modest. Beel can’t help but wonder what you might look like underneath it. Would your skin be soft and squishy? Tender even? 

“You need to stop staring,” Belphegor yawns. Beel shakes his head before looking at his brother. “What?”

“I mean, if I’m noticing it, then you know it’s bad. They’ve definitely noticed. You’re being creepy. And not the good kind,” Belphegor sends his brother a lazy smile. Beel feels his cheeks grow hot as he looks back at you to find you already looking at him. Your eyes meet for a second before you quickly look away. You rub the back of your neck before taking another bite of your cake. 

Oh. So you do eat when you get nervous. 

Beelzebub feels his mouth salivate. He swallows slowly, but it hardly helps. 

“I’m gonna get some more cake,” he mumbles, making a beeline for the buffet. He’s barely scarfed down his fourth piece of cake before you interrupt him. 

“Hi,” 

Beel turns to look at you, quickly chewing on his cake before swallowing. 

“Hello,” 

You’re even prettier up close. Your skin has the kind of glow that only angels have, your eyes almost light up the room, and your smile is pleasantly soft. So cute. So unassuming. 

“It’s a good cake,” you say, motioning to the table in front of you. Beelzebub, however, can barely take his eyes off you, merely humming as he keeps his gaze locked on the real treat. You giggle nervously. Beel remembers he should probably reply. 

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he states, eyes still fixed on you. His stomach growls. He hopes you don’t notice, but you do; of course you do. Your smile hasn’t faltered during the whole interaction. It’s awfully polite, but Beel can’t help but wonder what you might look like, dishevelled and bewildered. How the real you look under all this facade and pretend that angels do. That he did once, too. For some reason, he wants to release you. Help set you free. Let the bird out of its cage. Never mind that he’s planning to roast the bird and eat it afterwards. 

“Are you hungry?” you ask curiously. Beelzebub smiles. 

“Yes, ‘m always hungry,” he says, extending his hand to you. “Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony,” 

Your mouth shapes into a little o as you politely take his hand and shake it. 

“Simeon told me to look out for you and your brothers,” you teasingly reply, before giving him your name as well. Beelzebub has to hold back a grin as he looks towards the other angel. With satisfaction, he notes that he’s far too busy trying to calm down Luke. 

“You know, we could always go to the kitchens. They always make me food if I ask,” he says, looking back at you. You look slightly flustered about the prospect of being alone with the demon as you glance towards Simon. Then you meet Beelzebub’s eyes, and a small grin replaces your hesitation.

“We have to strengthen connections, right?”

You don’t make it to the kitchen. No, Beel has a meal in front of him that he finds much more delectable than anything the kitchen could make him. Which is how you find yourself in one of Diavolo’s many guestrooms, pressed up against a door. Beel’s hands are all over you, grabbing at your hips, waist, thighs. His hands are warm on your skin, burning through your clothes, but it doesn’t stop you from pulling him closer to you, your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers curling into his hair. 

It’s hard to keep up with the way Beelzebub kisses you. He kisses like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, lips moving seamlessly against yours, swallowing up every little gasp you make when his hands travel too low, too far, too intimate. 

You break away for air, moving your head to the side when Beel chases your lips. He doesn’t seem bothered, trailing soft kisses along your jaw, licking a stripe along your neck. 

“I shouldn’t, hah, I shouldn’t do this; I should get back–” you gasp, hands moving to push at his chest, but Beelzebub doesn’t move an inch, his soft lips moving to your collarbones, tucking your shirt out of the way with a finger. 

“We should go back,” you whine, and Beelzebub moves to look at you, violet eyes somehow gleaming red. You blink, thinking it might be the light tricking you, but the red glint remains. “Why?” he asks, and you pout, shifting against the wall, that's keeping you trapped against Beel’s boiling-hot body. 

“This isn't right. I shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, resting your head against the door. Beel hums and kisses your cheek. 

“But you like it, don’t you?” he asks, his voice sounding almost seductive. You frown, your eyebrows furrowing, but Beel merely looks at you like he just asked what’s for dinner.

“Do you not feel good?” he continues, and his thumbs begin to rub circles into your hips. “Do you not want to feel good?” 

He kisses your neck again, slightly nibbling at the skin. You sigh and close your eyes. It’s hard to ignore the way your whole body burns with desire, the way your core pulses with need. You want so badly to turn back to the party, but some part of you can’t help but wonder what it might be like to stay here with this gluttonous demon you just met. 

To give in. Just for one night. 

Which is why you let Beelzebub lead you to the bed and slowly remove your clothes piece after piece till you’re completely naked underneath him. You feel vulnerable, with the way Beel’s gaze takes in every inch of your body, yet in this moment you feel more worshipped than ever. He takes his time with you, kissing down your chest, trailing spit and care along your stomach with each wet kiss, till he reaches your pulsing core. 

You gasp when he touches you, hands flying to his wrists. Beel watches your reactions, waiting till you slowly let go again, your hands gripping the pillows beside you instead. Beel grins, fangs showing as he kisses your thigh, before placing your legs on his shoulders. He works you open slowly, watching your face intently as your brows furrow and your little pout returns to your face.

Angels. They’re all so uptight. 

He waits till he can’t anymore, zipping open his pants and positioning himself at your entrance. Arousal clouds his mind as he rubs his tip against you. You glance down, eyes immediately widening as you spot his flushed cock between your legs, dripping with precum. 

“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you say, placing yourself on your elbows, but Beel merely grins, one hand finding your hip to keep you where he wants you. 

“Relax. Of course, it will,” he states, leaning down to kiss your cheek, effectively pushing your legs to your chest. “Little angel,” he murmurs as he pushes past the first ring of resistance. You gasp at the foreign feeling, eyes squeezing shut. Beelzebub coos. You’re so soft, so gentle. He almost feels bad for you, that you’ve had to go for so long without knowing what this is like. The only reason he doesn't is because it means you've ended up here. With him. Allowing him to show you what it's like. He remembers how he felt back when he fell. How new it all was before the hunger came. Now he just wants to satisfy the gaping feeling. 

He pushes further in, and you grip his shoulders. You’re strong, but you’re no match for Beel, who lets you use him as a stress toy while he bullies his thick inches inside of you. 

Usually, Beel isn’t much of a talker. His escapades are few compared to most of his brothers (at least if he doesn't count Leviathan), preferring to use the fridge to drown his desires, but with you, Beel thinks he can change his mind. He isn't like this usually, but then again neither are you. Each gasp and sigh that leaves your lips is music in his ears. He might just forget that the kitchen is only fourteen doors down the hall. 

He bottoms out and stays there. Your eyes are still squeezed shut as you adjust to the foreign feeling in your gut. You’ve never felt so full, so completely stuffed. It’s dizzying, the way his cock pulses and drools inside of you as you squeeze down on him. 

“Doesn’t it feel good?” Beel asks, nipping at your jaw. His hands hold your thighs in place as he slowly pulls out again till only his tip is inside you. “To give in? To listen to your body for once?” he asks. His eyes are now trained on where you’re connected, as he pushes in again and watches himself disappear inside of you. A tiny moan leaves you as you throw your head back into the pillow. 

He places a hand on the back of your head, making you watch as he fucks you, and the moan that's ripped from your throat is downright sinful.

His pace is slow, as though he’s savouring you. The initial sting is soon replaced with pleasure as your walls adjust to his cock. “Look at that,” he breathes, completely lost in how warm you are. “It’s almost like you were made for this.” 

Violet eyes meet yours. “You just needed to get fucked, didn’t you?” 

You whimper, clawing at Beelzebub’s chest as tears stream down your cheeks. It’s all so overwhelming, so completely foreign. Part of you expected something to happen—for a pair of horns to sprout out of your forehead or your skin to turn red—but all you can think about is how good it all feels. How can this be wrong when Beelzebub fits so well inside of you, when his cock stretches you out perfectly and reaches every spot just right?

Beelzebub’s pace grows rougher as he licks the salty tears of your cheeks, settling his weight on top of you and fucking you into the mattress. "You taste good," he murmurs. You’re speechless, reduced to whimpers and moans, feeling like you can’t get enough air inside your lungs. Beel groans into your ear, repeating praises and sweet nothings that make you dizzy. 

“Pretty angels just want to get fucked, don’t they?”

“You’re so good, nngh, I could e- eat you.” 

“Poor thing, aren’t you? Let me make you feel good.” 

And, god, do you feel good as pressure builds in your stomach. It’s euphoric, really, how good Beelzebub feels inside of you. You’re not even sure you can go back to the celestial realm after this.

Not sure if you want to. 

Beel watches your carefully crafted facade crack with each thrust of his cock, and the sight satisfies a deep hunger in his gut. He wishes he’d done this sooner. Hell, he wishes he could watch your pretty face morph in pleasure and disbelief forever. Doubt and scepticism look so marvellous on your face as you’re fucked into oblivion. 

It doesn’t take much for you to reach your high, and you cry out as your back arches off the bed and your walls pulse and clench around Beel’s cock. Pleasure courses through every part of you, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back. It takes even less for Beelzebub to follow you, groaning into your ear as he fucks you both through your high. His cock twitches as he fills you up with cum. He comes a lot, so much that it’s dripping out where you’re connected, down your ass and Beel's balls, onto the sheets below you. 

You lay still for a while, both catching your breaths before Beelzebub pulls out and removes himself from your sticky body. You lay, still in disbelief at what just happened. It occurs to you that you’re still completely naked, while Beel is dressed, and you pull at the sheets to cover your body. 

Beelzebub grins at your attempt to hide yourself and the way you look so perplexed. You both know he’s ruined you for good now. He can’t help but wonder if you’ll try to pretend this never happened, if you’ll clean yourself up and go back up to Simeon and Luke. He hopes you’ll give into your desires, and let him fuck you till you both pass out.

“You did good,” he says. You bite your lip. “Thank you,” you reply. 

He looms over you for a while longer. “It was nice,” he says, feeling his post-orgasm haze slowly dissipate as he sheepishly rubs his neck. “I—uh,” his eyes dart around the room. 

You blink almost owlishly at him, shocked at how he seems so shy after he just rearranged your guts. 

“Thank you for letting me do that to you,” he says, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes past your lips. 

thank you for reading!

tags: @madaqueue / @mystically-yours / @mcmisa / @malleuus / @clone-force-99

@the-realest-unicorn / @delightfulmentalityturtle / @malleus-draconias-rose

kinktober mlist | main mlist | divider by me

[coryosbaby]

—“ʙᴀʙʏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴜɴɴʏ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʙᴀʙʏ, ʜᴏɴᴇʏ !”

♡ content warning . cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, squirting, servant! reader, dom munch Coryo my beloved <3

Your life begins to escalate one day when you come into Coriolanus Snow’s office.

You aren’t new to the capital, most definitely not, but you’re new to him. He’s just as handsome as all your coworkers had talked about— and just as strict. The moment you walk through the doors and introduce yourself as his new maid, he’s already barking orders and giving you a list of things to do. Not before his eyes wonder over your thighs, tits, mouth— but you don’t notice that. No, of course you don’t. You’re a shy, timid little thing….almost like a bunny.

Maybe that’s why Coriolanus names you that.

Members of the capital, no matter how much privilege, can’t exactly rename their workers. But it seems that Coriolanus has. Because no matter what, that’s what your name seems to be from now on— Bunny. When you need to fix him his meals, when you clean up the clothes littering his room or the empty wine bottles on his table, there he is.

“Good job, bunny.”

“Such a good girl, bunny.”

“Thank you, bunny. C’mere, why don’t you have some wine with me?”

And that statement itself is what leads to this particular night: you’re sitting across from Coriolanus, your feet nervously tapping against the wooden floor, taking small, small sips out of the expensive wine glass he had passed to you. You don’t quite understand why he is offering this, but what you don’t know is that you’ve enamored him. Your hard work, your perfect resilience at following his orders. You are everything Lucy Gray never was: compliant. But Coriolanus never felt this strongly about Lucy. No, not really. She was a pawn, a way to work his way up to the top. But you caught him by surprise.

His blonde curls are golden in the lamp light, and he’s undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. You try not to drool at the sight of his tanned chest peeking out of the fabric or the way his thick, muscle-ey thighs spread simultaneously as he speaks to you.

“—but as I was saying. He’s quite ridiculous. He’s completely unintelligent, weak minded, and—“

He stalls, watching your small, shy smile. He knows you have no idea who he’s talking about, even though he’s been going on this rant about another business partner for the past twenty minutes. He clears his throat.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about these things with… a maid.”

He doesn’t say it in the sense that he’s disgusted. He merely seems to be choosing his words carefully. You shrug meekly, trying not to upset him.

“I don’t mind, sir,” you say, twiddling your fingers. “In fact.. I think I enjoy it. If you don’t mind me saying so.”

How sweet.

Coriolanus’ eyes thread through with a rather playful look, and he takes another sip of his wine as he takes sight of your almost see through tights.

“I told you, Y/N. Don’t call me sir.”

Your eyes widen a bit, in fear of displeasing him. You set your glass down shakily.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“

“I’m kidding. Lighten up, Bunny, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You let out a small, awkward chuckle along with him as he utters the words, anxiety coursing through you. You watch as his finger traces the rim of his wine glass. He looks up at you with those familiar icy blue eyes, his smile suddenly fading, and something dark flashes over him as he locks you in with his gaze.

“Unless you want me to.”

Your pouty lips part, a shiver running down your spine. He’s looking at you with something you can’t quite place— is it anger? Intrigue?

Or maybe, perhaps, possession?

You let out a small huff of laughter, setting your glass down and getting up from the table.

“It’s been amazing talking with you, sir—“

“Coriolanus.”

“C-Coriolanus. Yes. But it is quite late. I think I should be getting back to my quarters…”

You attempt to brush past him, but his fingers grab your wrist and he pulls you in front of him.

“You don’t really want to stay there, do you?” He says, his lips turning into a thin line. “I know how uncomfortable your bed must be.”

“It’s fine, really! I’m thankful enough to be staying in the capital..” your face floods with heat. “And… also thankful to be working for someone as incredible as you.”

Coriolanus doesn’t say anything. He just gives you this look, his expression amused but also intrigued. His thumb still strokes your wrist in gentle circles.

“Why don’t you stay here in my room tonight, then?” He suggests softly. “I can give you some clothes. I don’t mind sharing.”

If you’re being honest, the thought of going back to your quarters and surrounding yourself with all the other servant girls makes you want to throw up. And besides, Coriolanus is a superior. It’s not like you can say no to him.

“Thank you so much,” you sigh out. “I’ll stay out of your way for the rest of the night, I promise.”

You don’t even realize how tall the man really is until he lifts himself up from his seat. He lets go of your wrist, and you put both hands behind your back as he towers over you.

“No need to thank me,” He says, his fingers brushing up against your cheek and pushing a stray strand of hair out of the way. “You’re an amazing worker.”

His thumb brushes against your chin, then up to your bottom lip. He pulls the plump skin down and watches it snap back against your teeth.

“So obedient..” he whispers, and you can feel something begin to tingle on your lower half.

He breathes heavy now, and you can see him leaning in. You know what kissing is, but he can’t possibly be trying to kiss you right now.

…right?

Wrong. He grabs your face with both hands and presses his mouth to yours. It’s rough, but it’s slow and it’s passionate. He kisses you like you’re made of sunlight. He kisses you like he doesn’t want to let you go.

Or at least, that’s how you perceive it.

Gentleness gives way to hunger, something you’ve grown used to but not when it’s as strong as this. You can’t help but wrap your arms around Coriolanus’ neck as his tongue probes at your mouth. You let him in, timid but desperate to feel any part of him inside of you. His big hands move to your waist, gripping the skin harshly as he turns your back away from the table and towards his bed. Fastened in red silk and fine embroidery, it’s soft when he pushes your body down onto it. He pulls away as he looks down at you. He makes sure to keep his eyes on yours as his fingers slide underneath the hem of your skirt. You’re almost frozen, awkward and, although you want this, scared. Coriolanus moves moves his fingers over your underwear, brushing against your clit.

“You’ve never done this before,” he mutters against your ear. “Have you, little bunny?”

You whine, bucking your hips up into his touch.

“Coryo.”

Coryo. Coriolanus’ cock kicks, harder than it was before if possible.

“Answer me.” He demands, pausing his movements on your cunt.

“No,” you cry. “No sir, I haven’t.”

He groans, patience wavering as he finally slips his fingers underneath the crotch of your underwear and brushes against your bare pussy. He presses down onto your clit with the soft pads of his fingers and rubs tight little circles onto the bundle of nerves. You gasp, your nails digging into the sheets below you. Your legs spread on their own accord and your thighs lift up, giving Coriolanus more access. He smiles at your neediness, watching as you begin to fall apart already.

“So pretty,” Coriolanus coos. With his non stopping stimulation to your clit you can already feel yourself getting close. “After you cum from this I think I’ll taste this pretty cunt. How about that, angel?”

“Wan’ it so bad,” you whimper. Your legs attempt to squeeze coriolanus’ hand but he pulls them back apart harshly. “Oh, please sir! I wanna cum…”

“And you will. Just keep whining like that baby, keep making those little noises for me.”

And when you cum the first time it’s like seeing stars, Coriolanus’ palm grinding right up against your achy clit, your legs shaking. It’s perfect. But nothing can compare to this next moment: Coriolanus’ cock hanging thick and heavy between his legs, his clothes and yours now discarded, as he prods at your soaked entrance with his tongue. He swirls the wet muscle around your hole, quick to slip the tip just barely inside. You shake, your hand gripping his golden curls, and you wonder how you have such a privilege to have the upcoming president of panem nestled between your thighs.

He licks up your slick, pulling back with a groan.

“You taste so good, baby.”

His tongue pushes back in, ravaging your cunt with his mouth and grinding his cock against the surface of the bedsheets. You mewl, your eyes rolling back. Coriolanus’ tongue moves up to your swollen clit for a moment, and he pulls away again— you’re now realizing that it’s purposeful. He’s doing it to tease you.

He takes in sight of your pussy, plump and swollen, the curly hair at the top of your mound absolutely adorable to him. He uses his thumbs to spread apart your lips, your hole stretching out and exposing your insides to him. He watches as it clenches desperately, all small and tight, and he can’t wait to stick his cock in there. With a deep shaky breath he breathes in your cunt and dives back into you. Your legs try to close around his head, but his big hands grip your thighs and pull them back apart. When you manage to keep them open he grabs your flailing hands and holds them, an oddly sweet gesture that he himself didn’t even expect to do. He presses the small things against your belly, his jaw working harder than the people of the districts to get you to cum.

“Coryo,” you whimper, when his lips wrap around your clit again. “Im gonna cum on your mouth, ‘m gonna cum all over it—“

And hearing these words makes Coriolanus hums, his finger moving up to your hole and slipping inside. He wastes no time, fingering your hole intensely as you get closer and closer to your high. And with one last flick to your clit, you reach it.

Your body freezes, ecstasy flooding through you, your vision giving out. Your first orgasm was good, but it could never compare to this. No, this was something different. Your pussy begins to squirt slick all over Coriolanus’ mouth, his chin, the sheets. Coryo lets out a desperately loud moan, his tongue lapping up all over your release vigorously, his eyes rolling back when he himself cums against the sheets.

What a brilliant capital citizen, cumming so quick like that at the taste of a servant’s cunt. But he can’t find time to think about the humiliation— he’s too busy devouring you, and when he does pull away your fucked out face distracts him. He moves up your body, his cum dragging a sticky line against your leg, thighs, tummy. He kisses you, chin dripping in slick and his cock kicking against him once again. His hands take hold of your legs, a fucked out haze taking over your brain as you become limp in his grasp.

“Turn over,” he demands, desperate. “Turn over now, bunny.”

And with enough energy to spare, you turn onto your stomach and present your ass to him like a bitch in heat. His cock, now limp but so help him if he isn’t going to get it up and fuck you, rubs up against your small entrance. And when he pushes in, giving you all you’ve wanted for months and more, you let him take your innocence like the obedient girl you are.

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x gn reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.39k | part 2

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: not communicating and not talking about your feelings (not miscommunication since you don't even communicate)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There's too many beds.

The one night where you guys don't manage to make it to a motel, there's too many damn beds.

The camper van can fit pretty much all of you at once, not that the seven of you will do that anyway. Dani and Dexter have claim on it, as the drivers, and will probably accept two more comfortably.

In Lilly's van there's the backseat and the floor, but if we're counting, for how many beds there are by technicality, the two front seats as well.

You always have tents and sleeping bags around too, just in case you guys can't drive everyone from any recently unfortunate communities to the nearest hotel (although you'd certainly try). To give a rough estimate, about a dozen tents?

Then there's Tyler's truck, the two front seats and the back seat, and the truck bed. It's a bit short, but it can fit plenty people curled up.

So what to choose?

You should probably stay in a car. Much more heat that way, but who's gonna take you in? The designated drivers obviously prefer their own cars, so... Dexter's campervan is pretty spacious? Then again, so's Lilly's, and to be honest she's more of a vibe than the other two, but also why would you need vibes if you're just sleeping?

Maybe you should start a fire, huddle around that? No, that's a hazard, nevermind the fact you only know how to start a fire in theory.

Let's stick to a car, then. Lilly or Dex & Dan for space... Lilly, sure, why not?

As you start heading over to Lilly's van, you hear a sharp whistle. You don't have time to wonder who it's from, as Tyler spins you around.

"You're coming with me." He proclaims, taking you by the shoulders, and you can only laugh.

"Why me?"

Tyler grins, walking you unceremoniously towards his truck bed. "Because you're you, dove." That alone sounds rather intimate, so he fixes his mistake quickly. You're just friends, after all. "And Boone kicks people in his sleep, Lilly's hair gets everywhere, Dani steals the blankets, Dexter snores, and Ben...it's pitiful how he squeezes himself into the corner whenever he's sleeping next to someone, so we always give him his own space."

Right, all good points you'd forgotten.

"So why exactly am I better?" You tease, stopping in your tracks so Tyler bumps into your back and stay close.

"You're warm." And at first it seems like that's the only thing he'll say, your only benefit, as he pauses; but then the rest comes spilling out like a toad strangler. "You're also soft, you don't steal the blanket, you don't complain when I suddenly start talking and you don't snore."

Tyler doesn't mention that the two of you cuddle when you bunk together, and that you bunk together often. He doesn't mention how tonight he'll let you cuddle up on his chest, or perhaps how he'll press his nose against yours and let you play with his hair, because simply mentioning it will mean you'll have to talk about it.

You don't want to talk about, you think; and neither does he. You don't want to talk about how there's something different with the way he slings his arm around your shoulder, or the way you knock your head against his, or how he always gives out your share of whatever (pizza, cookies, etc.) before anyone else, or how you always offer your help to him no matter what.

They're always easy things to ignore, his skinship is not conditional and neither is your kindness, but there's something about the way you look into his eyes when you say thank you, and something about the way his touch lingers.

You don't want to put your finger on it, at least not this season. You'll say it again the next season, and the next, but you ignore that.

"So then I'm your favorite person?" You turn around and bonk your fist against his chest.

He whistles again, drawn-out like he does in awkward moments, but you know it's only playful. "Don't push your luck, dove. You're like... top 5!"

"Top 5? Aww," You feign offense, plopping your hand over your own chest now, "I didn't make it to top 3?"

He splays out his hand and begins to count on his fingers. "There's my mom, then my dad, then the family dog, Liam from the rodeo, and then you."

"The family dog?" Your eyebrows furrow, and the acting seems a bit too real until the look on your face gives away to a memory of his dog giving you kisses. "Oh, yeah, okay. I get it."

"See? You get it." Tyler chuckles, spins you back around and keeps on walking.

The spot you guys picked today is drier than the last, which is something you're thankful for. It's quite far from any town, but the streetlights that adorn the far off road make you feel a bit safer that civilization is just around the corner. There's a light breeze, not too cold and not too fast, and the stars! Oh, the stars.

They're damn nice out here cause they're actually visible tonight, a little less light pollution, you think. It's certainly a lot brighter than, say, NYC or Washington.

"Ain't they pretty today?" Tyler comments, his hands on your shoulders squeezing.

"Yeah. Sparkly too. You know any constellations?"

"No," He hums, his voice holding a bit of lament. "I tried, once. I tried taking a class in college. Astrology."

"How'd that go?" You ask offhandedly, hopping onto the bed of the truck.

"Ended up being too stressed with my main curriculum and dropped the class before it got too far." He fixes a tarp over the top of the truck bed, over the exoskeleton, so not much light will shine over your eyes when you try to sleep.

"The smart Tyler Owens got too stressed?" You ask as you help him up.

"Being smart doesn't mean I have good time management." Tyler says as he sits next to you, and you shrug. Suppose he's right.

"Still pretty though." You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder as you look up.

"Yeah." He agrees. His arm comes to wrap around you naturally, running up and down your side. "Have you ever tried to come up with constellations with... I don't know, whoever you were looking at the sky with?"

"You know what? I don't think so." You raise a finger, tracing a path in the stars for a moment, trying to find something interesting.

He finds one before you, pointing at a group of stars in a weird glob shape. "There, a cloud!"

That alone gets you to let out an ugly, surprised laugh; despite how ugly you might've thought it to be, he thinks it's cute. "You trynna cloudgaze with stars, cowboy?"

"Shut up." He laughs, knocking his head against yours. "You try, genius."

After a couple seconds, you point out a distinct...cone shape in the sky. "Unicorn horn."

"Unicorn horn?"

"What am I supposed to say, cone?"

"You could've said ice cream cone, a little more age appropriate, you know?" He holds out his hand, holding out a small gap between his index and thumb fingers to accentuate little.

"Yeah, well it has no ice cream, dumbass."

"Woah," Tyler withdraws, raising his hands in surrender. "no need to get so defensive, dove."

You slap his hands only to draw them back around you. He has no complaints about that. "Clearly we both suck at this. Let's just admire the stars normally."

He huffs out a laugh but turns his gaze back to the night sky without complaint. It's rather peaceful, this moment, and so nice. Maybe it's not rare that you get comfortably quiet moments with him, nor is it ever rare for Tyler to hold you close like this, but it doesn't make it any less endearing.

"Look!" Tyler breaks the silence suddenly, finger tracing a path in the stars. "A heart."

"You're kidding." You huff out. He's just playing with you, he has to be, especially after your miserable attempts at finding shapes in the sky.

Despite yourself, your eyes will the stars above you into the shape of a heart. Goddamnit, you think, because it's definitely a sign.

"I'm going to sleep." You tear yourself away from his grip and he laughs and tries to steal you back to him, but you fight briefly and end up winning. It's a nice victory, especially because you won over him, but it's not on par with actually finding something in the sky (and you're avoiding the sign).

Tyler chases after you, flopping down beside you. The tarp above casts darkness over the back of the truck bed, but a soft glow still shines through.

You sigh and tuck a hair of Tyler's behind his ear, to which he only laughs. "Jealous, much?"

"Oh, totally." You'd roll your eyes, but they're stuck on his.

"I won." He's triumphant, but you can only focus on how pretty his smile looks.

"You did." You reply, not fighting him on it, and slowly his amusement fades away with the deflation of his body.

"You're not making this fun." Tyler steals your hand, presses the back of it to his lips and notably does not pucker up and kiss. It might be payback, or it might be avoiding the obvious intimacy that kissing you is.

"It wasn't a competition, anyway." You remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

His attitude eventually exudes out of him with a sigh, and he lets go of your hand to push closer. His head rests below your chin, his nose against your neck, and it's not new, but it's not old either.

"I'm sick n' tired of you." He huffs against your neck as you take the opportunity to tuck the both of you in.

You hold back a laugh. "Oh, yeah? Tell me why."

His voice is muffled against your neck, and maybe the vibrations tickle, but you don't dare move away. "I won! We should be celebrating that."

"Celebrate it in your dreams." Despite it being practically the same thing as in your dreams, it actually sounds quite genuine.

"Don't be like that," Tyler whines. "let me stay up for a little while."

You put your hand in his hair, then, twirling strands around your fingers and scratching his scalp, and Tyler hates you and also loves you, because it feels so good that it pulls a groan out of him, but it's lulling him to sleep.

"You're cheating." He whines again. He's being rather childish, huh?

"It's way past your bedtime." You say in a sing-songy way. Curiosity takes over, and you pull his head away from you gently to look into his eyes.

They open once you pull him off you, just barely. Half-lidded, not by lust, but by sleep. "I just wanna hold you for a little while longer." He says, and you don't know how he does it, but his eyes have turned pleading.

"That's on you to try, cowboy." You huddle close again, allowing him to take up the same position as before.

Despite himself, Tyler sighs contently, wrapping his arms around your midriff. One of your hands is on his back, rubbing slow circles, and the other is back on his hair.

He's definitely not going to last long now.

"When's the last time you've ridden a horse?" Tyler babbles on to try to keep awake, but you can hear the sleepy lilt in his voice. "I think my last time was when I last visited home, before the season started."

"One sheep over the fence, two sheep over the fence–"

"Shuddup."

You laugh, hands smoothing over his hair again. You're not sure how you're not very sleepy right now, tucked under the blankets, in his warm hold. Maybe it's the subconscious thought of not accidentally hitting your head on the spare wheel above you, or the faraway feel of the ridges of the truck bed below you.

Or maybe it's wanting to tease him.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

You've kissed before, little playful things: cheek kisses for the camera, neck kisses to either scare you or tickle you, forehead kisses after particularly dangerous scares, hand kisses when he's trying to act all gentlemanly, temple kisses after hugs. You've never kissed him on the lips before, and actually, neither of you have ever explicitly asked for a kiss. They've always been given without question.

"Please?" He asks again, pulling back so that his forehead is off your neck.

Oh, he only wanted a forehead kiss.

You oblige happily, press your lips against his forehead and let out and exaggerated muah!

"No, not there." He pulls away almost entirely, scooting up to be face to face.

You'd laugh, if what he was asking you for wasn't a kiss on the lips. You can't lie, you've thought about it before, when the sun shines a particular way over his face at sunset, or when he's considerably too hot to ignore.

...you're going to have to talk about this tomorrow.

Except tomorrow is not today yet, and so you cup his cheek. You debate it for a moment, a yes or a no, but there's one answer clear in your mind, a yes.

You press your lips against his, and it's more subtle than that forehead kiss, and it feels so much more tangible, in a way. His lips move against yours, a languid thing, a soft thing.

You wonder if he's going to remember this tomorrow, if being as sleepy as this is equivalent to being drunk.

"Thank you." Tyler says as you part, and he settles back where he was, head against your neck. He seems satisfied now, willing to nod off.

"Don't mention it." You say automatically.

Okay you're definitely going to have to talk about this tomorrow. For now, though, you'll just hold him. It's a strange thing to say, but he's always been rather nice to hold, a big man to fill your entire hug, even if he does make your heartbeat spike.

"Goodnight." He says.

"Sweet dreams." You reply.

There's nothing else to think about but the feeling of him in your arms and the warmth of his body as your eyes draw closed.

[yurinaa-world]

"𝐼'𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓀!"

Characters: Scar, Jiyan, Geshu Lin, & Calcharo x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: Kisses while drunk?!

Warnings fluff, spelling mistakes

𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇 "𝒪𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐹𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒹𝓊𝓈"

“Ugh...You’re such a bastard..”

Who would have known that Scar would also join you for drinks—sitting right in front of you with a grin—but now how you two are arguing? Well, it’s just you being a jealous drunk while he’s acting like his usual flirt since he isn’t forcing down a drink every second like you—this argument is completely one-sided.

You take another slip from the bottle—it used to be full but now you’ve left it almost empty—you sigh after your lips leave the bottle.

“You’ve shattered my heart with that insult.”

He’s mocking you! You can tell how he’s holding his laugh! His head was slightly tilted to the side while his chin was on his palm. 

“I hope it’s broken till it can’t be fixed!”  You huff and take another sip of your drink while he hums while ‘taking in your words in for consideration’—he’s just getting some information to tease you with when you're sober.

“Must have been fun to go on your ‘little date’”  

he snickers at your statement, such a jealous little lover of his. "You know you're the only person I'd love." His unoccupied hand went to your cheek, pinching and pulling at it while you frowned with annoyance. "You're my only one, darling~"  He smiled, his eyes closed as if enjoying a wonderful dream. You push his hand away, annoyed by his actions.

"Say that to your new lover."   You sneer at the thought. "Oh please," He scoffs, "who else in the entire world would I burn everything for? I'll give you a hint: it's the same person sitting in front of me"  His voice lowered into an even more teasing tone, leaning in closer to you—your lips inches away from each other—so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body, causing you to shiver in anticipation. His hand on your face is now gripping tightly on your cheek, making sure not to let you pull away as he leans forward and whispers lowly 

"And it's you. you're my everything.~" When leaning to kiss your lips—just like always it's rough—his hand moved down, cupping your jaw as he deepened the kiss, biting the bottom of your lip. You pull away trying to catch air and breathe out while flustered out of your mind.

"Why don't you call me a bastard again, hmm?"

𝒥𝒾𝓎𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈"

“Loosen up Jiyan, you're so tense!

He really should loosen up! always refusing to drink at parties. Even now that’s the case! you're both all alone together so he really should take a break and let his mind just go numb for a while with how much thinking he does.

He might not be able to resist you for any longer with how you are straddling his lap, an arm loosely around his neck and the other with a drink in hand—to get him to try—you were wasted out of your mind.

"You should calm down before you get hurt.” 

He tells you, very gently pushing you off of his lap and taking the drink from your hands. “Aren’t gonna drink it?” You clasp your hands together and beg him. which just makes it worse for him not to listen to you.

He listens to your request, immediately chugging the drink quickly and fast to get it over with just to make you happy.  

He could see how bright your smile was when he finished—how can you be so happy over something so small and how the way you giggled and squealed.

“See! You're not so tense anymore after a drink!”

He just sighs and pulls you close as you lean on him and rests your head against his chest. “You’ve had too many drinks..”

“But I want just one more.” 

𝒢𝑒𝓈𝒽𝓊 𝐿𝒾𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈"

“You’re drinking too much..”

“Huh? I’ve only had three though?” You mutter, laying your head against his shoulder, while Geshu has his arm loosely around your waist—drinking his nonalcoholic drink while you had been drinking till your heart's content maybe too much with the fact you can’t even remember how many drinks you’ve had, and your face was sooo red.

All you feel is fuzziness, mind burry and just in general not having too much consciousness in your actions—yet you keep on drinking, small little cup yet still filled to the brim—with the warmth of his body, the solidity and softness made you want to come closer.

Looking to the side to see him smiling at you lovingly,  his eyes warm as he continues to hold you close. “I don't want to let you go.” You incoherently mumble,  snuggling closer into him. 

 Feeling his fingers gently caressing your hair as he looks down upon you. His lips quirk up further, making you put down your drink, and his hands gently cup his face. leaning ever so gently to kiss him on the lips.

He could just taste the hard alcohol from your lips,  but it didn’t bother him, nor did he mind. In fact,  after a moment or two of kissing, he deepens it.

You respond by letting out a breathy sigh, deepening the kiss.  pulling away, you feel dazed and dizzy but the smile never leaves his face. You stare up at him as if you were even more drunk than before.

“I think it’s time for you to get to bed.”

𝒞𝒶𝓁𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑜 "𝐿𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝐻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓈"

Ugh…What a pain. Having to deal with you while you’re drunk is a nightmare for him. 

“Come on! Calcharo! Why are you pushing me away~?” Your words are all slurry and muffled because of the alcohol in your system. While you try to hug him yet his hand on your face, pushing you back.

 “Look at yourself in the mirror before talking. you’re a complete drunk mess.”

You pout at his stubbornness, giving up on trying to get closer before grabbing the bottle beside you and taking a deep sip of the alcohol—numbing your system even more, making you feel so warm on the inside.

He grabs the alcohol bottle from your hands, pulling away from your reaches. “enough drinking,”  he spoke sternly.

You immediately frown at his tone, “You’re no fun!” You say in a whining tone. It was true though—you were drunk out of your mind.

Putting the bottle away—far from you—you stare blankly not sure of what to do now while Calcharo eyes you suspiciously. You were planning something and he sure wasn’t wrong.

 Grabbing his arm, wrapping your arms around his,  you pull his body towards you until you are chest to chest, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “I want a kiss.” Gazing up at him with a hot expression on your face.

 he seemed stunned by the sudden action immediately pulling you off of him and covering your eyes. “Ask me when you're sober.”

“What! That is so not fair!”

“Since when did I care about it being fair?”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[erwinsvow]

can we have rafe try to grovel ?? :((((( shy reader deserves better !!! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/751213087399510016/what-if-rafe-ever-hit-shy-reader-from-built-up?source=share

he will grovel!! side note i dont know how i feel about this its just for the sweet anon who wanted part two

the moment rafe shuts the door and traps you in the room, between his body and the wall, you know some part of you has just broken that you'll never fully be able to fix.

everything in your body tells you to look up at rafe and do something. slap him back, push him away, turn around and storm out of the room and try to at least show him you're just as mad as he is—but none of that actually happens.

hot tears keep spilling down your cheeks, and you stay frozen like that for what feels like forever, staring at the floor of rafe's bedroom. the sound of rafe's heavy breaths fills the space, though you can barely detect it over the way your heart is pounding in your ears.

you want to leave. but you don't know where you even would go. before the events of the last hour, there was no where you wanted to be more than wherever rafe was. and now, staring at the floor instead of up at the boy who you had gladly given your heart to only for him to snap it in half with his bare hands and deliver it back, you stay frozen, waiting for rafe. you are always waiting for rafe.

"kid, i-" you finally look up, through wet lashes and almost painful eyes fluttering slowly, and rafe stops talking the moment you do. you don't know why, but it doesn't take you long to figure it out. there's a mark on your cheek the size of his hand, probably an imprint from his ring too.

it's such a shame—you always loved that ring.

you snap out of your thoughts when rafe keeps talking, though there's still blooding rushing in your ears. he sounds muffled, his mouth moving and expression looking, you can only imagine, somewhat close to yours—sad and angry all blended together. you keep blinking slowly, listening but not really listening, waiting for him to finish so you can leave.

how stupid you must seem to him, and to yourself, you think pathetically. he just hit you, and you're waiting for him to finish, so you don't impolitely interrupt. you should drive straight from tannyhill to a therapist's office—though you think not even a licensed professional could help you figure out what exactly is wrong with you.

the thought makes you laugh, corners of your mouth turning up and a rush of air leaving your throat. half a laugh, half a sob. the gutting realization has just hit you—whatever was wrong with you, rafe was the only one in the world who seemed to understand you.

"baby?" rafe asks, and you actually snap out of it this time—looking up at your boyfriend, wondering if he knows you haven't heard a single thing he's said so far.

"i think i should go home," you reply, wondering where your keys are and where your wallet is. you don't keep track of these things anymore, usually since rafe drives you everywhere and pays for everything.

"okay. i'll bring you, just let me go get-"

"no, i-" you stop yourself—about to apologize again. everything running through your mind makes you choose your words carefully. "i'm gonna go home."

"you didn't drive here, kid. i picked you up, remember?" rafe looks back at you and you feel a fresh wave of tears take over. you hadn't remembered.

"oh."

"listen, kid, i'm so-"

"i'm going home," you repeat firmly, mostly to yourself. "i'll just-i'll walk."

"y'not walking. it's dark and-"

"rafe, stop." the way you say it, he actually listens. you don't sound like yourself, you can tell from the way he looks at you, rafe's face doused with concern and apprehension. you look away, turning to face the door. "i'll be fine. i need to go."

"c'mon, kid, don't go," he says, and every bone and muscle inside you wants to listen, to do what he says like you always do. you feel more hot tears coming up, stopping them seems impossible yet you know crying is useless. it already happened and the damage is already done.

you turn around from your position, knowing it's a mistake. rafe gets closer, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. he holds your face like he always does, except there's one big difference—you flinch the moment he starts moving.

"baby," rafe says quietly, and everything in you stops for a moment. brain lagging, breath catching, even the tears stop for a second while you look up at your boyfriend. "i'm so sorry. i am so sorry. i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but please don't go."

"rafe, i can't stay," it comes out just as quietly, a notch above a whisper. "you hurt me." it comes out wrangled in a sob. rafe wipes away some of your fresh tears with his hands.

"i-i know. and i'm gonna regret it forever, but-" rafe stops, and you stop too. you chew on your lip nervously, realizing it's going to bleed from how much you're biting down. "can-can i at least bring you home? please?"

"okay," you give in-but you shouldn't have.

you don't even know how you're gonna explain the mark on your face to your parents, or why you're home so early when you said you were sleeping over. every movement feels exhausting—grabbing some of your things and walking down the stairs to getting into rafe's truck. the drive to your place isn't very long, only ten minutes, and you stare out the window the whole time. it feels like hours with the way rafe looks at you at each red light.

rafe pulls into your driveway and you look up at him expectantly, though you're not sure why.

"can you-can you turn the headlights off? i don't want them waking up," you say, after what feels like ages of silence.

rafe turns the lights off but doesn't say anything. it's not until you reach for the doorhandle that he does—it's almost muscle memory for him. he leans over you to pull the handle and open the door for you, but you flinch so hard when he moves that he can't even get the door. instead he looks back at you while you stare up at him. without any words, you both know what the other is thinking.

"goodnight, rafe," you say, your own hand on the door now.

"wait, kid," he says, and you stop your movement immediately. even in this situation, you can't help but listen. "can i see you tomorrow? please?"

"i don't think that's a good idea."

"c'mon. we-we have to talk about this. i can't just.. not see you. i'm gonna go crazy."

"i need to go rafe." the second you say it, you start feeling bad about it. it's so engrained in you—trying to avoid hurting rafe in any and every way possible, that the very idea of not giving him what he wants makes your chest ache painfully. "i.. i have to think about it."

he leans over, slowly this time so you don't get scared again, opening the door for you like he always does. you climb out, getting your bag and trying to pretend everything's fine until you get inside your room.

"good night, kid. i'll talk to you tomorrow."

without replying, you walk inside. rafe's truck stays in your driveway until you lock the door, and he doesn't drive away until minutes after.

surprisingly, you make it to your room before you start crying. and you don't stop crying until the sun comes up.

[jenomi]

gala night with jeno

pairing: non-idol!jeno x afab!reader content warnings: FLUFF! :3 & suggestive if you squint

✧･ﾟ: *✧*:･ﾟ✧

"babe are you ready? we're gonna be late" you hear your fiancé jeno call from the kitchen.

"yes yes yes" you trot out of the room quickly carrying your heels.

tonight, you were attending the annual summer gala hosted by your company. it was one of the most talked about events of the year for it's grandeur and auction items. you were feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but knowing you'll have jeno by your side brought you comfort.

"okay" you quietly whisper to yourself as you finish putting on your heels and check your hair and makeup in the mirror by the door. you stand up straight and smooth out the material of your dress. "how do i look?" you turn to face jeno.

"beautiful." he says on an exhale.

your heart skips a beat as you step closer to your fiancé and fix his tie. "you look handsome as ever" you whisper laying your hand on his chest as you tilt your head up to give him a kiss and a smile.

he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. as you pull back with a smile, jeno follows your lips.

"this is why i didn't put on any lip product yet" you laugh lightly and you swear you hear jeno moan softly. you quickly finish your lip routine in the mirror before receiving a text from your friend who's also attending the gala tonight.

"okay kimmy just texted me saying her and jaemin just left their apartment. we should go too" you say grabbing your clutch and typing a quick reply to your coworker/friend.

jeno grabs his car keys, "mm let's go" he smiles and kisses your cheek before opening the door for you.

he holds your hand down to the car and makes sure you step over any gaps, grates, and puddles in your heels. you smile fondly at him each time, you wonder how you could fall more in love with him, yet it happens more and more everyday.

as you pull up to the hotel that the gala was hosted at, jeno makes sure your door stays locked so valet can't open your door and help you out of the car. he wants to do that himself, and it makes you laugh every time. your silly, jealous fiancé.

the building was beautiful, lights framing the stairs leading up to it and the hotel lights illuminating the clear night sky.

you bump into your friend and her boyfriend as you're waiting for the elevator. you exchange greetings and feel grateful that you and jeno have friends to help keep you company. jeno and jaemin grew close through you and kimmy, even planning hang outs without the two of you. you both laugh and say that they're in love.

you all enter the ballroom fashionably late as the auction begins. you both don't plan on going home with anything, but you do your duty and place bids on things you wouldn't mind having but once the price gets too high, you tap out. nonetheless, you both still try to have fun, whispering silly comments to each other and having to hide your laughs with your panels.

"that vase would look amazing in our boat" jeno whispered. you don't have a boat.

"my mom would love that" you whisper about a clutch completely covered in jewels. she would hate that. "so would mine" jeno responds. his mom would hate it even more.

when the live auction concludes, you and kimmy head to find your supervisors to say your hellos and have your chats while jeno and jaemin take to the silent auction. if jeno sees something he'd think you'd like, he'll place a generous bid on it. in years past, you've come home to him gifting you a beautiful yet simple necklace that he'll shyly reveal that he won at the gala you attended together. your eyes light up when you receive such an unexpected gift, that he tries to continue the tradition and win something he knows you'd love each year to be the reason for the surprised look on your face.

after a few glasses of champagne (but not for jeno, since he's driving) and a healthy amount of mingling, you and jeno start your goodbyes and head home. you're thoroughly tipsy at this point, clinging onto jeno's arm or having jeno's arm secure around your waist. you giggle as you enter the empty elevator to go down to the lobby.

"i love you" you rest your chin on his chest.

his eyes crease as he smiles, "i love you too baby" and leans down to give you a peck on the lips.

as you exit the building, you squeal as your fiancé carries you bridal style down the stairs earning you a few stares and some smiles. jeno didn't care. all he cared about was you - he knew your feet were hurting from being in your heels all night, and he didn't want you hurting yourself any more than you already have.

jeno sets you down on at the bottom of the stairs with a pat on your ass before he hands his ticket to valet to get his car. as you wait, jeno wraps his jacket around your shoulders. you weren't cold, but jeno always worries and doesn't want you to get sick. he walks away for a moment, leaving you confused since valet is already grabbing his car.

you see him approach a younger couple and shyly ask, "hi. sorry, do you mind taking a picture of me and my fiancé?"

they happily agree and you and jeno pose lovingly in front of the illuminated steps. jeno wraps his hand around your waist and you turn your body towards him and place your left hand on his chest. you both smile for the camera but then jeno leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. you giggle as you turn to look up at him and place your hand on his neck.

you momentarily forget your picture was being taken until the young girl gives the phone back to jeno. he thanks her right as his car pulls up.

of course, jeno opens the door for you before tipping the valet driver discreetly with a handshake. you watch the interaction intently before jeno gets in the car.

"you know its customary to tip valet, right? you don't have to do a secret handshake" you tease.

"yea, but i feel cool doing it" you laugh at his honest response as he leans over the console to buckle your seat belt for you. he pulls back before leaning in to give you a quick kiss again before putting the car in drive.

as jeno drives home, you unlock his phone to look at the pictures you just took. they were beautiful, honestly almost as beautiful as your engagement photos. the lighting was perfect, and you could see the sparkle in both your and jeno's eyes. your engagement ring sparkles on your hand against his chest. and in the photos before he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, you can see jeno looking down at you like you're his whole world and it makes your heart strings pull. and in the last few photos, you're both looking at each other with silly smiles and nothing but love in your eyes. your diamond ring catches the moonlight in the last photo, making it shine brighter than ever just like your love for each other.

you quickly send all the photos to yourself before reaching over and grabbing jeno's hand and giving him a kiss on the cheek. he smiles at you and kisses the back of your hand before focusing back on the road. his hand rests innocently on your thigh, but you both know the main event begins when you get home.

[evilminji]

You know that Post about Danny becoming the False Villian, Expose?

To train all these kids, who are running around with shitty priorities and the self preservation instincts of lemmings? Because they were arrogant. Didn't listen to the concerns of those they "protect". Didn't listen to the concerns of a fellow Hero. So now, they WILL learn, at the hands of a "Villian".

Cause he TRIED pointing things out nicely.

Was met with a brick wall of condescension and dismissal.

THAT post.

You know where he would not only do that, but go APESHIT into it? Because he is a Hero and holy SHIT these kids are gonna get themselves killed? Gonna kill somebody ELSE? Have fucked up priorities and live in a fucked up system they do not even question?

Boku No Hero Academia.

Why the FUCK are you posing for the cameras? Why the absolute FUCK are you beating that man down on the worst day of his life, instead of TALKING him down? Why are you jumping too conclusions and splitting up and playing for the crowds? Why. The ABSOLUTE AND UNFORGIVING FUCK do you seem to ASSUME that every innocent soul, that doesn't look default generic human, is the AGGRESSOR in every situation you arrive at?!

Danny would have a conniption. Just a full body rage seizure, as his Ghost-y lil brain LIT UP with the BURNING NEED to fix everything, everywhere, at once. Right. Now.

But do they listen?

Ha!

Cool, cool cool cool cool..... he's gonna burn the entire country dow- No! That way lies Dan! Breathe, Fenton. Just.... Breathe. You can fix this.

The older ones may be set in their ways, but the younger ones are still learning. They can get better. BE better. They're kids. They just need opportunities to grow. And they WANT to be Heros, right? All he has to do is show them HOW. Poke their weak spots and point out their mistakes.

He can do that!

And just? Out of NO WHERE? This foreign villian decends upon Japan? What's worse, seeming to TARGET HEROS STUDENTS. Young, just debuted, Heros. Everyone freaks out. Older Heros closing rank, where they can, to try and Protect These Kids(tm).

But they can't be everywhere at once.

And this menace? Seemingly CAN be. Can make copies of himself. Use Ice. Fly. Energy beams. Intangiblity. Invisibility! What monster are they DEALING with?! That plays the flamboyant fool, dispensing deadly peril, only to then turn around, and in chilling sobriety absolutely destroy seasoned heroes?

That LECTURES them while doing it.

He's undermining the people's faith in the system!

(But should they have faith in it? Doesn't he have good points? Aren't they getting stronger, faster, better heroes for facing him? Where did he come from? Hasn't anyone else noticed that not a single civilian has gotten hurt, at his hands? That he annihilates any true villians foolish enough to think he's on their side?)

(How many "thugs" and "minor villians" have these guys not noticed, they wonder, who have just... disappeared. Come into contact with this guy and then? Stopped. Turned up somewhere else, weeks later, healthy again. Smiling with illegal lifestyle support gear, a new job, a new life, and better future. Finally free of the violence.)

Amity may be at peace by the time Danny turns 20(-ish? Maybe? Is he? Clockwork! How old IS he? You've sent him on so many of your weird timebend-y missions he lost count!). But? Danny is a Heroic Protector Spirit. His Obsession has demands. And his Human sides Space Obsession will never really be quite strong enough to support him.

You know, since it can't die.

Just because it HAS a Soul aspect to it, doesn't mean it'll ever come into practical use. So? The more powerful Heroic instincts it is! And honestly, he wasn't even planning to STAY. Just check the place out. You know, compare his options. But... *twitch*

They Are Doing It Wrong.

So now he lives here!

.....it's awful! They don't even have any space exploration! No studying, no stars, no futuristic moon base! Nothing! And he doesn't even SPEAK Japanese! In human form? He has no idea what anyone is saying! At least the Sorta-But-Not skeleton Ghost guy across the hall is helping. Dude might be taller then his DAD. Seriously ecto-starved though. It's like he somehow GAVE all his body's ecto to someone else!

How's he supposed to heal like that?! Guy really needs to learn how to take care of himself.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[kaciebello]

No need for mail

Masterlist Badger express ★ Lorenzo Berkshire x Hufflepuff! reader (fem) Summary: While doing a school project, Lorenzo tries his luck. With the help of the wind and the sun, he falls harder and harder.  Warnings: no use of y/n,  Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) And just so you know, it always has been him. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ( and yes I know he's a slut, not here tho, maybe next time.) word count: 1.1k Song: Married In Vegas - The Vamps

Light breeze messes with his hair. He does not care as much as his attention is on the mooncalf nest that rests below the cliff. The girl next to him is doing the same. Her hair is held together in a braid with a yellow ribbon wrapped into it. They are both lying down at the edge of the cliff, one wrong move and they would be rolling down. He turns his face to her.

“Why are we doing this?” He whispers, yes whispered as he has already been scolded once for speaking at his normal volume. Apparently, it would scare the weird animal away and that is not what they want.

“It's a school project, I told you that.” She says, her gaze not moving away from the big-eyed cows.

“I don't think Hagrid would care if we pulled everything out of a book.” He argues back but knows there is no way out of this. He's finally being let in on a Hufflepuff sacred. No wonder they always get the best marks in ‘care for magical beasts’. They simply just vibe with them. The girl just shook her head at him.

The girl scooted a little bit more over the edge. Lorenzo's hand flew over to her and grabbed the back of her shirt. For a witch, she does not have even an ounce of self-preservation in her body.  A small rock fell from their shuffling and landed near the nest. Scaring all the mooncalf, making them run and hide.

“look what you did!” the girl says and, with the help of Lorenzo, sits up.

“Me? I'm not the one trying to throw myself off the cliff!” he says, now too, sitting.

The girl scoffs and gets up to make her way over to the blanket where they set their stuff. He makes his way to her and sits down right next to her. Their knees touching. They both pulled out their notebook, he wrote down his observations and she finished her sketch of the animal.

Silence falls upon them as they both do their own thing. Lorenzo's eyes shift to see her sketch, only to see a familiar face. He does not know if he should call her out or not. But since he considered himself her best friend, a fact she constantly denies, he decided to do the first option.

“AYO, is that me!” Startled, the girl closes the notebook so fast it makes a thud so loud that he's certain the mooncalf all hid again. He tried to take the notebook from her, but she threw it on the other side of the blanket. She restraints one of his hands and the other one lands by her back.

When Lorenzo noticed how close they were, a smile crept on his face.  She noticed too, as his legs curled a little. She turns her body to face him more and places her other hand near his, probably so she can quickly grab it if he tries something.

He noticed her eyes were scanning his face. A breeze messes with his hair again. The girl blinks and lets his arm go, going to fix it for him. He places his, now free, arm on her thighs, squeezing them to make sure his arm lands where he wants it to without actually looking.

The two friends stay silent. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one they always seem to find themself when they are together. 

“You're so pretty, I wish I could get you pregnant.” She breaks the silence. Lorenco can do nothing but chuckle. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His arms now sneaking around her waist. Pulling her closer to his body.

“Ditto” He murmurs. He can feel her shake with laughter. She was now playing with his hair, something he could let her do all day if he could.  That's why he peels himself off of her. She just looked at him confused. Lorenzo just shakes his head and moves a little, before ploping his head down on her lap. He makes sure to grab her arms and slam it on his head for good measure.

She looks at him with a shocked expression before sighing. Nonetheless, she does what he wishes for and plays with his hair. He flashes her a smile full of pearly whites. 

“You're annoying.” She says looking down at him. he pokes her side making her squirm a bit.

“But you still love me.” he sings back to her. She does not answer to him. They fall into silence again. The girl is not looking at him. Something in the distance caught her attention. He did not mind, as if she were to look down on him, she would see a fool in love.

A sun framed her head and made it look like a halo. He was smitten.

“So you know how you just wanna be friends?” He says making her give him attention. Looking down at him her arm came to a stop.

“Yeah?”

“That's cool and all, but I'm like in love with you.” 

“Same” The girl just breaths out. Lorenzo did not expect her to say that. In a second he has decided he is not letting her change her mind.

He shoots up and cages her with one of his arms while the other one goes to her neck and pulls her closer. He does not give her a chance to register what is going on.

Their lips met, softly than someone would expect with how fast Lorenzo was with his moves. She took a few seconds before kissing him back, her arms cradling his face.

The kiss was sweet and slow, a fairytale-like.

Soon they ran out of breath, the girl gently pushing Lorenzo away as he tried to chase her into another kiss. Still, with closed eyes, he lends his forehead to hers.

“That was-” A low whistle cuts him off. Cursing under his breath, Lorenzo opened his eyes and straightened out. there stood four of his friends. A whine leaves him.

“AYO I DID NOT KNOW YOU HAVE A GAME LIKE THAT.” Draco makes sure that he can be heard all the way back to Hogwarts. Multiple praises and hollers sound on the little cliff they found themself on.

All the boys make their way to Lorenzo, lifting him up and repeatedly tossing him in the air. All he could do was catch a glimpse of the girl with a yellow ribbon in her hair laughing. Not even noticing the love note falling out of his pocket and getting lost in the wind.

tag list: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Communication is good. It's wonderful, even! But screaming matches? Especially ones that last this long, aren't healthy in the slightest. In fact, all they do is damage relationships. So, after convincing Barbra and Tim to go upstairs, promising that he'd be up in a few minutes with Dick, he went back to where Bruce and Dick were screaming at each other.

Nothing had been thrown yet. Small mercies.

God, Danny hated being a mediator. Why couldn't people just work out their problems by talking? It'd make his life so much easier. Was that so hard to do? Too much to ask? Apparently.

"And you-!" Bruce rounded on Danny the second he closed the door behind him. "You don't get to come into my house and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Mister Wayne." A few days into his running away, Danny discovered a new power. He can't control it, but sometimes, when he's angry or needs people to shut up, the inside of his throat goes cold and his eyes narrow. It's really cool, from Danny's perspective, and pun fully intended. Something about Mister Wayne had brought that power to the surface, and thank the gods for that because Danny really needs to be listened to right now. "I told you earlier that my name was not a fight you wanted to pick. I think I should reword that. I am not a person you want to pick a fight with."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, meeting Danny's glare with his own. "Is that a threat?"

"Yes, Mister Wayne, that was a threat. And you can hold me to it. I will win any and every fight you try to pick with me."

Dick kept glancing between the two. He had a bad feeling about these two interacting like this, but something was stopping him from getting them apart.

"I have your name and your face. It won't be too hard to get you arrested for several crimes."

"Framing a child, Mister Wayne? Good luck with that. I don't exist anymore. Besides, I can threaten the same thing about Batman, and that holds significantly more weight than anything you could do to my name."

"If you're not scared, then you'll give me your whole name."

"That was a horrible fish for information, Mister Wayne. You're slipping. You must be getting rusty in your old age."

"Danny-"

"Dick." Danny held his hand out to his - on paper - responsible adult, "C'mon, Tim and Barbra are waiting for us upstairs."

Danny lead Dick out of the room, Bruce staying behind and obviously glaring at the back of Danny's head. When the door shut, Dick sighed, every bit of tension he hadn't felt melting off of him. "Sorry about him."

Danny shook his head. "Don't apologise, Dick, you didn't do anything to spark that. However," he glanced at him from the corner of his eye, still holding his hand, "Screaming matches aren't going to fix anything between you two. I don't know if you even want a relationship with him, but he's right. We came into his house, so it's up to us to be polite. You may be his kid, but you are a guest in his home until you two can form some kind of positive relationship. The hostility between y'all right now? That demotes you to 'house guest' instead of 'visiting child'. Got it?"

"..yeah."

"Good. Now, Tim and Barbra are waiting upstairs; go find them."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to go apologise to Alfred."

"Alfred? Why?"

"Bruce may claim this as his house, but Alfred's the one who takes care of it. It's his haunt, so I'm gonna go apologise for almost starting a fight."

"Um, alright..?"

***

Dick found himself wandering into the room that had been given to Tim. It was bare bones and barely looked used, but that's where he found Tim and Babs. He sat next to her.

"Where's Danny?" Tim asked.

"I- He's gone to talk to Alfred for a minute."

"Oh? Why?"

"I don't..he wasn't really clear on that."

"Oh."

The three lapsed into a silence that hovered somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable. Tim was on his bed, messing with something on his phone, smiling occasionally or chuckling softly. Dick and Barbra sat together on the couch against the wall between the two windows. None of them spoke for a while.

It was a lon twenty minutes of sitting, doing nothing. Sometimes one of them shifted, but no conversation was made.

The door opened. "Wow. Did I end up in a graveyard or something? Y'all're quieter than the dead." The three flinched back as if struck. "Sorry, that was in poor taste." He closed the door behind him and sat on the foot of Tim's bed. "Seriously, though, why're y'all so quiet?"

"Waiting for you," Tim answered, "What'd you talk to Alfred about?"

Danny waved his hand in the air as if to physically dispel the words. "Nothing you need to worry about. Good news, though, I have a standing invitation to the Manor, so.."

"Is that a good idea?" Barbra asked, "You and B, well...You didn't really.."

"Yeah," he smiled, "Alfred's given me permission, and that's all I need. I won't be going with you guys to the Bat Cave, though."

"What?" Tim's voice pitched up a bit, "Why?"

"That's Mister Wayne's haunt. Because he doesn't like me, I'm not gonna risk even thinking about going down there."

"But you'll come and go from his house?"

"Yes."

"Weird."

"I don't make the rules, Timmy." Tim snorted softly. Barbra smiled.

"I hate to be the one to bring the mood down again," Dick said, "But why were you wanting to go to the Cave?"

"I just said I wasn't."

"Yeah, but why would you ever need to go down there?"

At this, Danny looked a bit sheepish, turning to look away from the others and rubbing the back of his neck. "Alfred said we're staying the night."

"What!" Dick shot up from his seat.

"Are you coming on patrol with us?" Barbra asked Dick, her eyes expectant.

Tim grinned. "That'd be so cool! You two should totally join us!"

Dick shook his head. "I really-" He cut himself off, making the mistake of looking Barbra and Tim in the eye. He sighed. "Alright, I'll join you guys for the night. But I don't answer to Bruce."

"Yay!"

"Wouldn't expect ya to."

"What about you, Danny?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't do the whole vigilante thing anymore."

"'Anymore'?" Babs raised her eyebrow, "That's a story I wanna hear."

He blushed. "It's really not,"

"You'll be on comms, though, right?" Tim wondered.

"I, um.... Sure. I'll join you guys on comms."

"Yes!"

"But I'm still not going into the Bat Cave."

Part 13 Part 15

[unclewaynemunson]

One day, when Steve and Eddie are still in the early stages of dating, both a little overwhelmed but sure of each other and excited to see where it’s going, Steve brings Eddie flowers when he comes to the trailer park for a date night. It’s the first-month anniversary of their first kiss, and he doesn’t say as much, because he’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t care about those dates like he does - and it’s not like a one-month anniversary is some kind of great accomplishment anyway - but he wants to do something special and he decides flowers will make anyone happy, if only for the gesture. He gets a bouquet with bold, dark shades; purple and dark red and some greenery with sharp edges and thorns, to give it a little bit of Eddie: sweet, but still badass.

When Steve gets to the trailer, Eddie opens the door with a wide smile on his face - but it instantly disappears and gets replaced with a kind of shocked surprise when he sees what Steve is holding in his hands.

‘Got you flowers,’ Steve says, stating the obvious and leaning in to kiss Eddie’s lips. But Eddie is still frozen in the doorway - his mouth doesn’t even move when Steve presses his lips against Eddie’s.

Steve pulls back and squints at Eddie, trying to figure out what’s going on with him. ‘You alright there?’ he asks.

‘You got me flowers,’ is the only thing Eddie says; his voice is trembling and his eyes are still wide, fixed on the bouquet in Steve’s hands.

‘Should I... not have?’ Steve asks. His palms are getting sweaty against the stems of the flowers, but it doesn’t look like Eddie is gonna be moving to take them from him anytime soon. Panic starts to crawl its way up in his stomach as he wonders if he’s made some kind of huge mistake.

 ‘I um... I’m sorry. This was stupid, wasn’t it? Is it weird? You know I’m only used to dating girls and they always used to love it when I -’

‘What the hell are we even doing?’ Eddie suddenly interrupts him in a shrill voice with a panicked edge to it.

‘What - what do you mean?’ Steve asks, still unable to make sense of what’s happening.

‘I’m not the kind of person you can bring flowers to! I’m - I live in a goddamn trailer, for fuck’s sake! I’m not like any of those girls you used to date, Steve, and if you -’ He glances around him frantically, then fixes his eyes back on Steve’s face, a scared look in them. ‘We don’t even own a fucking vase, Steve, we never - I never - Jesus, they’re really pretty but I’m not - they’re too beautiful for this fucking trailer, you shouldn’t -’

‘Hey, woah, take it easy, alright?’ Steve finally understands what’s going on, and it’s breaking his heart that Eddie believes he isn’t even worth a bunch of flowers. He gently drops the bouquet on the ground, freeing his hands to be able to place them on Eddie’s shoulders in an attempt to ground him.

‘Take a deep breath for me, okay?’

Eddie obeys, taking a shuddering breath while blinking tears away from his eyes.

‘I know you’re nothing like those girls,’ Steve says, softly. ‘And I don’t care. If anything, it’s why I like you so much more. That’s why I think you deserve flowers, even if you don’t have a vase. Trailers deserve flowers, too, you know.’

Steve can see the tension disappear from Eddie’s body as Eddie lets out a heavy sigh. Then, his boyfriend suddenly launches himself into Steve’s arms, colliding into him with a force that almost has Steve tumbling down the steps leading up to the trailer’s front door.

‘You’re too fucking good to be true, Stevie,’ he murmurs into his ear.

Steve can’t help but chuckle at that, holding Eddie as tight as he can. ‘What, ‘cause I brought you some flowers?’

He can feel in the crook of his neck how Eddie is nodding.

‘How about I get you a vase next time, so I can keep bringing you flowers?’

‘I love you.’

Steve freezes. A second later, Eddie lifts his head to look at him. His eyes are wide and shocked, probably mirroring the look in Steve’s own eyes.

‘Shit, sorry, that just - um - that just slipped out,’ Eddie stammers. ‘That was - that was probably way too early, wasn’t it? I wasn’t - I didn’t mean -’ 

‘I love you, too,’ Steve interrupts him.

And the enormous grin that breaks through on Eddie’s face makes Steve decide instantly that he’s gonna get Eddie some sunflowers on the one-month anniversary of their first “I love you.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

[fieldsofwriting]

You don’t have to do it alone.

Summary: Based off this request. The farmer doesn’t know the meaning of a break- and everyone else in town starts to see that they need a break.

Warnings: General depictions of exhaustion and slight injuries

When you answered the call for a Farmer in Mistria, you didn’t think it be like this. You were constantly busy, running around the water your crops, clear your farm, help repair a bridge, general store, mill, streets, and more. But everyone here, they were so kind. They were so nice. You couldn’t help it, you had to help. You had to do it. Even if you didn’t want too.

And that’s how you ended up with Ryis today. He needed help fixing up some of the fencing around Mistria, so hammer in hand you two were cranking it out. But you couldn’t help but slow as more time wore on, the ache in your muscles starting to become more and more apparent. The sun beating down on your back, you could feel it just sucking the life out of you. And by the time you noticed the trajectory of the hammer- it was too late to move your hand. The tool slammed into your hand with a mighty wack- your might wack.

“Shit! Y/N, are you okay?” Ryis calls, rushing forward and kneeling down to take your hand and look it over. “It’s gonna been to be iced. But the swelling shouldn’t be too bad.” He smiles up at you gratefully.

You give him a weak smile back, trying to ignore the throbbing. “Ah, it should be fine. I’ll have Valen check it out later. Let’s finish these fences.” You nod at him. Ryis frowns, watching as you pick up the hammer again. He wants to protest, it looked pretty nasty…but if you’re fine…?

He sighs, but kept a watchful eye on you. Making sure there was no other mishaps. And as you were walking home, Reina saw you.

“Y/N!” She calls, rushing over. “Hey! I was wondering if you have any veggies for a soup I wanna try making!” She asks, ever so cheerie.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” You nod, giving her a smile.

“Sweet! You wanna help me make it?” She asks, linking her arm through yours. Walking down to your farm with you.

In truth. No. No you did not. But here she was looking at you with those big ole eyes, and sweet smile. You couldn’t say no to her! Even if you just wanted to melt into bed. “Sure thing.” You say.

And so, you got her the crops she needed. And she chopped. You stirred the pot, that was until you put your hand down- hissing in pain as you looked at the opposite hand from what you just smashed with a hammer.

“Oh!” Reina gasps, quickly setting down her knife before taking you to the sink and rinising your hand under cold water. “Are you alright? Do you need Valen?”

You shake your head, “No, no. I’ll be okay.” You brush off her concern. “Just scared me more than anything.” You give her a smile to help ease the worries. Reina frowns, she wanted to make sure you were okay… but if you said you were fine…

And so, after leaving the Inn after some delicious soup, you headed up to the forge. You needed to fix a chip in your axe- as annoying as it was. You had already worked yourself to the bone, why not a little more?

As you approached the forge, March took you in. You looked wrecked, exhausting and he can see where you have a bandage on your hand from the burn, one of your fingernails starting to bruise. “No.” He says quickly, grabbing your axe.

“What- March stop I need to fix it!” You protest trying to grab it back from him.

“No, you need to go home and take a fucking nap. You look exhausted and the others might be dumb enough to ignore it but if you go near molten metal there is no way you’d walk out of here with your stupid cherrie smile.” He snaps at you, looking at the axe and frowning. “A chip this small isn’t worth your life.”

You blink. Was March- did he actually care? But before you can continue to protest, he looks behind him. “Yo, Ryis! Take Y/N home and do not let them leave.” He says shoving you toward him.

Ryis awkwardly catches your shoulders, frowning at March’s roughness. “You okay?”

And finally, you let out a defeated sigh. Leaning into Ryis, “I need a nap.”

Ryis chuckles, patting your back. “Okay, come on.” He says gently, helping you back home. The whole time he was surprisingly gentle. “Feel better in the morning yeah?”

You give him a sleepy smile. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’m so sorry this took me so long!! I kept trying to get it done but then I started working on an animation and i forgot 😔 but I hope you enjoyed!!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Menace

Summary: She's heartbroken. all it takes to fix a broken heart is a friend who's also a menace.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: heheh for my baby @garden-of-runar 🥹🥹🥹

i feel like i couldve made this better and i will try my best to improve hehe anyways I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

also was gonna post this tomorrow but i love Runar too much to make her wait and also i havent posted anything in a week so 🤷🏻‍♀️

a treat for everyone ig 🤭

uhhh anyways

ENJOYYYY

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Again. It happened again.

She knew she should not have been surprised, she had expected it even. But it still hurt, the rejection still stung.

And it was all her own fault.

She should have bottled her emotions up. They obviously did not matter to the love of her life, then why should it matter to Y/n?

Locking the door behind her, Y/n silently slipped off her heels, hoping no one was awake as she began tiptoeing towards her room. Slowly, one step at a time, she moved, avoiding the planks she knew creaked, her steps light as she cracked open the door to her room.

The sigh of relief escaped her all too soon, and she regretted letting it out when she turned around to meet two perplexed hazel eyes staring at her.

"Care to explain why you are returning at this hour?"

Something about the tone of the statement irked her, and Y/n straightened, the anger and madness she’d been holding captive till now bursting out.

"I don’t see how it is any of your business." She snapped.

He blinked at her, surprised at the harsh tone. Y/n instantly felt guilty. He was not the reason for her bad mood, and she knew blowing off the steam on him was wrong when he probably was just concerned for her safety.

"I- I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-"

"Why are you sorry Az?" Y/n grumbled, settling down at the foot of her bed, her face in her hands. "You were just concerned for my safety."

Silence, and then the scuff of a boot, coming closer and closer. She felt him settle down next to her, the slight breeze stirring her hair, the mattress dipping next to her, and then the soft touch on her knee.

"Did something happen?"

She did not speak for a long moment, and then- "You ever been in love, Az?"

From the lack of sound, she knew he did not expect that question, and if she was being honest, neither did she. She just blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, and somehow it was one of the most damning thing she could have said. "Never mind- you don’t have to answer."

But he did.

"I… I have been. Still am."

Y/n separated her fingers to peek through at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she just kept quiet in hopes he would continue as she let her hands fall to her lap.

"She… is the most beautiful person I have ever seen. The most kind hearted, the most adorable female. So helpful, an amazing friend."

Despite being so close to Azriel, being his best friend, Y/n had never realised that he was in love with someone. She hated herself a little for it, feeling like she was a bad friend, but it was not the time to have a self deprecating party, so she turned her attention back to him.

"Have you ever told her?"

He sighed, meeting her eyes. "I was going to tell her today… but that’s not the point. Did something happen tonight?"

Y/n swallowed, knowing he wouldn’t let it go. "I… I told my friend I loved her. She… rejected me. Was quite mean about it too."

He stiffened. "What did she say?"

"That she never wanted to be with me and would never wish to be and all that." She sniffled, flopping back into the plush mattress.

He remained silent for long enough Y/n started to wonder if he had left, but when she lifted her head to peek at him, he looked deep in thought.

Knowing Az, he was plotting something.

And with the way his shadows churned and swirled excitedly, it was not good.

Especially for his victim.

"What are you thinking?"

He glanced at her, a glint in his eyes.

"You up for a friendly outing?"

Oh fuck.

After a bit of contemplation, she offered him a smile. "Maybe…"

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Az, I think we may have gone a bit far-"

He shushed her, his eyes unmoving from the door.

Specifically, the door to the home Y/n’s one love lived in. Rhea.

She must be coming out any moment, and with every moment that passed, Y/n’s heart raced.

This could go very wrong very fast.

The door swung open, and out stepped Rhea.

Just as she turned to close the door behind her, a bucket of ice cold water emptied on her head, leaving her sputtering and gasping, her head swinging around wildly.

Y/n ducked further away, her heart climbing into her throat, and despite the fear crawling around her veins, a smile broke on her face when Azriel grinned.

Rhea had just opened her mouth to speak, but then a shower of flowers came out of nowhere, sticking to her wet and trembling form.

The ones that she had an allergy to.

It would be nothing serious, but it would keep her awake and sneezing for at least a day.

Y/n obviously felt guilty, but…

It also made her feel light.

Azriel turned to grin at her, and then he grabbed her hand, dragging her away before Rhea could see them.

They could have easily winnowed, sure, but neither of them were thinking as they bolted away, running until their feet screamed in protest, until their lungs heaved, until their throat ran dry.

Until they couldn’t help but stop on the bridge over the Sidra, hands on their knees.

Y/n glanced at the illyrian beside her, panting.

He met her eyes, a boisterous laugh unexpectedly leaving his lips.

After a moment, Y/n couldn’t stop herself from joining in,clutching his shoulder and her stomach as she wheezed.

"You’re a menace, Az." she coughed.

He stared at her, his smile making his face practically glow.

"Only for you, sweetheart."

he started walking again, knowing Y/n would follow.

And she would have, but something made it impossible to move.

Y/n stared at his retreating back, her smile slowly fading.

Soon, he realised she wasn't with him, turning to call her name. she hurried after him, a feeling she was all too familiar with beginning to take root in her stomach.

Sweetheart.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

[tbgkaru-woh]

100 Dialogue prompts

Trying this out (feel free to tweak out any grammatical errors) so writers who are bored, have at it! ♥ Mix of Fluff, Angst and Smut

“I don’t see you that way”

“I will just do as I’m told. As I’ve always done”

“Have you never ridden a bike/horse before?”

“You don’t have to be so…formal”

“What happened to us?”

“Good things don’t happen to me”

“Interested in palm reading?”

“Bowing to you felt right”

“There, let me help you.”

“Next time, listen to yourself and not me”

“Why do you want to get in trouble so badly?”

“It’s him/her…isn’t it?”

“Are you keeping it?”

“Good to see a familiar face”

“You never had to ask me anything, let alone beg”

“Oh you again?!”

“I need to take you somewhere”

“With you gone, everything went wrong”

“Insufferable, see you at dinner”

“I wasn’t kissing you, I was saving your life!”

“You did all this already, why not finish the job?”

“I will look for you”

“I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t breathe”

“You knew about it?”

“I will atone for what he/she did”

“You need to start having some faith.”

“Say what you want, I know what I’m feeling is right”

“It’s okay, you will move on. We will move on.”

“How much do you miss him/her? And what if you didn’t have to?”

“Focus on my hands, on my voice…”

“Perhaps you need to be reminded where you belong”

“I was fine having a non-sexual relationship with you, but instead I’m having non-relationship sex with him/her.”

“I wanted to do it for you and in hindsight it was a terrible idea”

“I’ve been inside him/her more than outside him/her”

“Don’t ask me with ‘please’, you’re paying me”

“Oh why won’t you just die already”

“Sometimes I wonder for how long have you wanted his/her heart and if you will ever stop”

“Filthy cheater, we go again!”

“Didn’t you pay your debt already?”

“I can’t get sick/injured.”

“You act like you’ve never been defeated”

“Diamond thrown into the trash still has the value of a diamond”

“I got engaged”

“All this was decided for me, I had no choice”

“I’m beginning to think not even the jail guards/cops want you around, given how many times they’ve let me bail you out”

“You, sir/madam, should watch your alcohol intake”

“I’ve been denying everyone, you’re not special”

“I’m not looking for a romance”

“Isn’t that immoral enough to tempt you?”

“We’re two sides of the same fucked up coin”

“That’s what I like to see, you are your parents’ best indeed!”

“You have nothing to lose right?”

“Oh I can’t wait to hear you sing”

“Anything you’d like to add to the conversation?”

“Hi.”

“You need to stop making me pick you up in places someone may see”

“I thought I was a puppeteer pulling the strings but instead I was a back seat audience”

“I want names, I want addresses, I’m gonna make them pay.”

“You know where to find me if you ever want me again.”

“My mother is visiting in like 5 minutes”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

“Not being able to reciprocate has been the hardest part of my life”

“Did you kill someone?”

“Envious of my youth, are we?”

“The others may have gotten away…”

“I found you. Found you looking like you didn’t want to be found”

“Did we use to be a thing?”

“I can fix this. I can fix this…”

“Weird question, are you a supernatural being? Be honest”

“We should have never played Gods”

“Must you be so harsh with me all the time?”

“What did all these men/women do to deserve you?”

“We have a reputation to uphold”

“May I have this dance?”

“I am a bad influence on you!”

“Let’s make history”

“Who the hell wants to live forever.”

“Feeling any different?”

“Time waits for no one”

“You got your happy-ever-after. And for all I know, it’s because I didn’t.”

“Try that again and you’re gonna lose it”

“Didn’t I say one of these days you’re gonna be the death of me?”

“Do you know what my answer was?”

“You look pathetic.”

“Almost didn’t recognize your voice when it’s not yelling at me”

“I often find myself talking to those no longer here as well”

“Excuse me, this is not a buffet”

“I don’t suspect you because I’m the one who put him/her in the ground”

“You look like someone who likes a good gamble”

“I am poison”

“Feel free to stay as long as you need”

“You don’t need to understand, just be a good little thing”

“I’m gonna need your driver’s license, your ID and your phone number please~”

“Say my name”

“You…are telling the truth”

“Is that why you did that? Back there?”

“Stop reading my mind”

“I can teach you”

“How can you laugh?”

“Pretty pictures. I don’t have any”

“Heaven may fall, but __ can’t die.”

[gg-pedro]

spin worlds - joel miller x reader oneshot

masterlist

summary: strings attached are easy enough to ignore when you're only trying to survive. when joel gets hurt, the world stops spinning, and you realize that you matter more to each other than you ever let yourselves believe.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post outbreak!joel, boston!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, protective!joel, implied age gap, non-established relationship, set a few years before tlou hbo, hurt/comfort, non-gratuitous descriptions of a wound, hurt!joel, unprotected piv, fingering, end of the world sex, rough!joel, heavy on the petnames, drug/alcohol use, lots of feelings, its boston QZ joel so, angst with a happy ending, angst with fluff

words: 3.6k

a/n: is this what i really think the people want? maybe! is this what I want? absolutely yes!!!!!!!!!

-

Hundreds of nights spent with Joel since you’d been in Boston. Thousands of hours, words spoken to each other, yearning to stay in his arms longer and say more. 

The time you had with each other used to feel fleeting. Always after dark, sneaking around the QZ like you were teenagers together. It was a strictly private thing. It was almost like the two of you kept it a secret to feel a kind of thrill again, something from a past life, as if there was still right and wrong in the world and a little bit of something wrong was all you had left. 

That thrill wore off eventually, and you were with Joel for more than just the adrenaline hit. He made things more bearable and cut you deeper all at the same time. 

Flattened on his bed for yet another night, you got the feeling that something was bothering him. 

The sensation of cotton sheets was rough against your skin, acting as a futile means to abate the cold that was swirling through the apartment and raising the hairs on your arms. Your view was of his back, and the long, jagged scar that ran close to his spine. You reached your hand out to touch him and he flinched away.

“‘M goin’ out tomorrow. Without you,” he said, before you even had to ask. “Too many close calls lately.”

His voice was quiet and rough, sore from the dry air. You tried your luck at smoothing a hand across his shoulder, and this time he let himself lean into it.

“Doesn’t seem like that means you should go alone.” You pressed a kiss against his shoulder blade.

He turned his head to the side, not far enough to look you in the eye but far enough to confirm that you were there and not some twisted hallucination that he had dreamed up. “I’ll come back fine. I always do.”

Joel had this talent of convincing others that his word was his bond. He hardly had to try. When he spoke, it was like everyone sensed that they were in the presence of a kind of profit, and that he was privy to some knowledge or confidence that could keep people alive.

It didn’t help that he seemed to hold all of the knowledge in the world– knowledge about the important things. He could fix the leaky faucet in your bathroom blindfolded. Always knew what direction he was going in. Knew how to tie a million useless knots. Could look up to the night sky and point to Polaris like he was pointing to a map of Austin, showing you his old favorite diner that he went to every Saturday. I’ll come back fine. I always do. 

But Joel didn’t know anything. You’d been close enough to see that. He was just as frightened as you. But now more than ever, you wanted to trust him. Turn your back and fall, bet on the fact that he would stop the world from spinning to be there in time to catch you. 

Perhaps you were too easy, too willing to take what he gave. It was still heaven. Heaven, in a crumbling apartment building, sometimes with your restless mind placated by downers, draped across his silhouette. Sometimes you wondered, between the two of you, who deserved this life less. When you thought about it for too long, the answer was always Joel.

“Who are you meeting?”

He rubbed his palm against his forehead in slow circles. “One of my guys. Said he wasn’t gonna smuggle into the QZ anymore, son of a bitch.”

You only hummed in response, working your thumb into the knot in his shoulder. “And you trust him?”

“No.” He turned fully this time, his big hands roaming to the small of your waist and his lips to your jawline. “Sure as fuckin’ hell not enough to bring you out there this time.”

You grinned and smoothed his hair back off his forehead when he looked at you again. “Don’t have any faith in me, Miller?”

“You know that ain’t it, baby doll,” he whispered. “Don’t wanna take any chances with you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You laughed as he pulled you up onto his lap, looking deep in thought as he deliberated over where to plant kisses across your face and neck. “As if you’re ever careful with me.”

“I could be,” he said. “If you wanted.”

“Mmh, I don’t think I do.”

You looped your arms around his neck and he took your face fully into his hands. You felt almost engulfed as he kissed you. There was a fire blazing between you, and it felt like your clothes had melted away rather than been taken off with how quickly they disappeared. Your skin buzzed with desire, blood flowing to your most sensitive points. You felt limp like putty, lying in wait to be sculpted with the rough smearing of his hands across your body.

He was unrestrained in the way that he removed your roaming hands and pinned both arms above your head against the bed. “Y’think this isn’t gentle, princess? Yeah, let me show you rough.”

He split your legs apart, hand traveling to your warmed and wet entrance like a magnet. Three of his fingers were pumping short rhythms into you before you could even breathe, and your vision nearly went white. You writhed, helpless to the desperate moaning that was slipping past your lips until Joel pressed his hand against your mouth.

It all hurt so good. The sparking pleasure came and went so quickly with his movements that it felt like a continuous wave of ecstasy, even if he was stretching you close to your limit. 

He wouldn’t stop murmuring things in your ear throughout. “Think I’m gonna let you out there? Get you hurt? No, baby. I only hurt you ‘cause y’let me. Don’t you, hm? Can’t have you screaming, not with the neighbors.”

Despite his best efforts, he was only muffling the litany of sounds that you were producing as he finger fucked you raw.

After he could tell that he had brought you close to your tipping point, rough hands grabbed your waist and forced you to flip over. He pulled you up on your knees, and he turned your head to the side before forcing it down against the bed.

With one hand he fumbled with his belt, cursing in desperation as he struggled with it for a few moments. He went silent for a beat before white hot pleasure shot through your, and all you could hear was the rough slapping of your bare bodies connecting with each other. 

He was not gentle. It was clear that his pace and frequent position changes were to fulfill only his desires, and your own intense satisfaction was just a byproduct. You couldn’t complain. In fact, it would be foolish to complain. If this is what he was offering, then you would take all that he would give. 

He came quickly. He always did on nights like these, when you had given him some sort of permission to just use you for a while. You stared out to your left, looking for Orion in the cluster of stars outside his apartment’s window. You felt warm liquid spill into you and begin to drip onto your thighs as he continued thrusting. Tears blurred your vision as you followed suit, unraveling into a perfect little mess beneath him. 

“Knew you could take it, honey. You feel okay?”

“Mhm,” you said in a high-pitched tone, biting back tears as he sat you up.

He gathered your naked form into his arms and held you there for a while. He kissed the top of your head, and you wished you could’ve watched the starlight reflecting in his eyes for a little while longer.

“C’mon, I’ll get you cleaned up. Shower,” he said, more of a command than anything.

You followed his directions without responding. It wasn’t him that hurt you, not really. It wasn’t the vulnerability that stung you too deep. It was just the reminder that your relationship with Joel was far from merciful, cut from desperation and an utter decimation of the people you used to be. In another life, you knew that this wasn’t the way you could’ve loved each other.

After a luke-warm shower and a poor attempt of washing yourself clean of sin, you sat at the kitchen table in nothing but one of Joel’s denim flannels. Your hair was heavy and wet with water, leaving dark blue trails down the back of the button-up.

He smoothed an errant strand back from your forehead as he sat in the chair across from you, pouring whiskey from his decanter into two glasses. You suspected he had been drinking before you came over, but you never said anything.

You took a long drink before speaking. “When’re you planning on leaving?”

“Early.” You watched him pop a few white pills in his mouth and down the entirety of his glass. “Back before dark.”

“Could’ve just used water,” you mused. “Do you want me here when you get back?”

He looked over at you fully, that lazy smile and those sweltering brown eyes. “Hard times, darlin’. Hard times.” He removed his gaze to shake a couple more pills out of the cloudy plastic bag, leaning over the table to drop them next to your half-empty cup. “And yeah, I do. Stay.”

You stared blankly at what was in front of you, shaking your head. “Let me come, Joel.”

“You can’t negotiate with me on this. It’s a hard no.”

“Just don’t be an idiot. Please,” you bargained. “This doesn’t feel right.”

You watched him stand and walk over to you, resting a large hand on your upper back. “I’ll be back before dark,” he said again.

You looked up at him. “And if not?”

“I’ll be back.” He leaned down to kiss your temple. “I will be.”

You nodded. “I’ll be here.”

“Good,” he all but whispered. “Good, that’s all I want.”

-

True to his word, Joel was out early. 

Doubly true, with blood and sweat dripping from his hairline and into his eyes, Joel dragged himself forward as the sun set over the harbor.

November in Boston. Brutal, wintery wind whipped past his face and stung the open wounds that had been hashed into his skin. His vision swam, and he brought his sleeve up to his head again to try and stop some of the bleeding coming from the left side of his head.

You were right. Always right about nearly everything, you were. It was a trap. Maybe he could’ve taken the three guys that met him at the deal site if you had been there too, but he razed each one alone and hardly made it out alive.

You. He would’ve stopped a few miles ago if it weren’t for you. In the moment he could’ve cursed your name and damned you to hell for what you drove him to do. He could’ve sat on the curb, rested his aching back against that old lamppost with moss and flora to cushion his injured head. Shut his eyes and die already, a death that would’ve been so easy, one that he begged for a million times.

You. He stared up to the sky, praying to something that his directions were right as his eyes landed on the north star. A mile or two east, and he’d be at the QZ. His blurred vision made the light astigmatic, so he could only hope.

The pistol in his back pocket felt red hot as he stumbled eastward. The only force driving him forward was the thought of putting a bullet through the head of anyone that touched you.

This was his fault, afterall. He should’ve taken someone. Maybe it was your fault then, for mattering so much to him that nothing could bring him to put you in even the slightest bit of danger. No, none of it was your fault. Nothing was. You deserved a whole world that Joel couldn’t give you.

He’d get to you. He would.

-

Making good on his promise, you woke up cold in his empty bed.

You could’ve sworn you saw your own breath freeze in the air, through sunlight that shone through the infinite planes of the apartment. You reached a bare arm up towards the ceiling, trying to catch some of the warmth that it gave.

You had an entire day of work ahead of you, likely doing maintenance on the water system or making house calls to troubleshoot issues with the electricity. Life here had made you more useful and skilled than you had ever been before, and sometimes work felt like a welcome distraction. 

You got yourself up and dressed, picking up around his place before you made it out the door. The discarded pills on the kitchen table swirled down the sink along with yesterday morning’s coffee.

You knew how to take care of yourself more than he did. You weren’t sure why Joel fought you so hard on some things.

On the return trip to his apartment far past dinner time, you were smeared with dried sweat and soot. Your eyes passed the stars, and you repeated a silent prayer to yourself that Joel had already beat you home. 

Scaling the stairs to the third floor, you saw that fate had cruelly twisted your own wishes.

“... My fucking god, J– what happened? Hey, hey, look up at me, please–”

You were crouched before Joel’s slumped figure, barely aware enough to respond to your voice or your touch. His flannel shirt was torn, exposing a bloodied white undershirt rising and falling along with his rapid breathing.

He had a hand almost glued to this side of his head, stained with dried blood. He made a strained groaning noise as you pried it away to reveal a nasty gash to the area. You could’ve screamed yourself at the mere sight of the state he was in.

It was clear that he only had the strength to drag himself to his own front door because you had been idiotic to lock it before you’d left that morning. A stupid force of habit left over from a lifetime where locked doors and tidied apartments actually mattered. 

“Don’t… don’t, m’hurt, just…” his voice trailed off as his glassy gaze passed over your face. He was still trying to catalog you, ensure that you were still in one piece even while he was in stitches.

“I know, I know… you have to get up with me, Joel. Give me something here, fucking hell– on three, okay?”

You managed to get him to his feet as you jammed the key into the door and shoved it open. You were shouldering most of his body weight as you helped him to the first available chair at the kitchen table. Aside from his head, there was no other major injury to his body– it was mostly fine grazes and blossoming bruises on his chest and arms. You filled a glass with water and poured it over the wound on the left hemisphere of his head, trying to clear away some of the dried blood that had matted down his curls.

He writhed in his seat and you tried to soothe him with gentle words and touch as often as you could. It was deep, as if he’d been hit with something dull, but not deep enough to be fatal itself. You exhaled at that conclusion and begged to the ceiling that you were correct about it. 

You sterilized the area with whiskey poured onto a kitchen rag and bit your lip as Joel hissed and swore in response. You made him hold the cloth there as you scavenged the apartment for something, anything that could be considered proper to wrap the area with.

“Bad deal… it went bad, baby, I tried… thought they were gonna hurt you here…” he mumbled to you once you returned with a t-shirt you had begun to shred into ribbons.

“Hurt me? I’m fine, and god, you aren’t. I’m fine. Nobody’s gonna hurt me. Us,” you added quietly, slowly removing his hand from his head again.

“Mkay… ow, you’re killin’ me, darlin’, s’fine, you don’t gotta do all that,” he said weakly.

You said nothing as you tried wrapping the makeshift gauze tightly enough to still apply pressure around his head. Realistically, he needed stitches, or at the very least some sort of proper medical assessment. Curfew had already passed and doctors were few and far between to begin with, so you could only hope that this would be enough to stop the bleeding. Keep him awake and alive.

When you were finished, you slumped down in the chair next to him, your hand still gripping tightly onto his shoulder. “What’s your birthday?”

“Why’re you–”

“–Answer me, Joel, I swear to god–”

He squeezed your hand limply. “September 26th. It’s November now, ‘18, I think? What, you want me to say my ABC’s too, or…”

Your laugh cut him off, shaky and very nearly turning into a sob. “I hate you. I hate you so much, you know that? I told you not to be an idiot, and you…” your voice trailed off, and he took both of your hands into his.

“I know. Hate you too, baby… can’t believe you patched me up.”

You couldn’t believe it either, or the fact that he cared enough about you to drag himself from the city back to the QZ out of fear that whoever had hurt him was going to hurt you, too. If that wasn’t the closest thing to love you’d ever been shown, you didn’t know what was.

He slept very carefully in your arms for a few hours that night, after you had gently washed the rest of his body and cleaned some more of the noticeable wounds. You couldn’t sleep at all, kept awake by a compulsion to check the bleeding on his head and make sure that he was still breathing through all of it. 

Despite it all, the two of you didn’t feel fragile. Something unspoken was heavy in the air, something that said you both cared for each other so deeply that no circumstance could stop you from taking care of each other. Joel would do it for you, too. In the meantime, you were glad he didn’t have to.

-

In the morning Joel explained how he’d been jumped by his supplier and a few of his friends, and how he’d lost both the ammunition he was trading and the opiates and cigarettes. You thought that was a small price to pay for escaping with his life, but his stubbornness fought you on that point. 

You paid a sort of friend of yours– a former nurse– all of your ration cards from the last week to stitch up his head the following afternoon, much to Joel’s utter dismay and protest.

“It’s already done. I already paid,” you had told him, staring into his eyes with a hand cupped to his cheek. “Please just let him. Please.”

For you, your words said. For you, I would. 

He said nothing, but he sat for the few minutes of what must’ve white-knuckling pain to let the wound be sewn shut. I would, too, he echoed back. For you. You held his hand through it, even if that comfort was more for you than it was for him.

You forced him to just rest with you for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that the expired antibiotics you had been saving would nip the traces of the fever he had started to run. If that didn’t work, you promised him you would look for something that did.

Staring up at you in bed, he tucked your hair behind your ears and looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. “You didn’t have to do all this, y’know. It was my own fault.”

“I did, though,” you replied as you smoothed your thumb across his cheek. “I  couldn’t do all of this without you.”

He cracked a smile. “Don’t flatter me just ‘cause I’m dyin’ over here. You’re better than me at ‘all of this’.”

You had hoped that your effort to keep him alive would’ve told him that you did in fact need him, almost more than anything, but in the moment it was fine. You would show him a million times over if that's what it took.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “You aren’t dying. Don’t be an asshole. I do need you. How else would I spend my time if I didn’t have you to worry about?”

“Don’t know.” He grinned up at you. “You’d be a hell of a lot richer, I think. Not wasting all your rations on some old man.”

“Mmh, maybe, but I like to spoil you,” you said through a smile.

He pulled you down next to him with a soft c’mere, and you laughed as he tucked you in close to him and he buried his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. You could tell the wear on his body was making him achy when he tensed before having to let you go.

You smoothed his hair off his forehead, your fingers brushing against the clean bandages wrapped around his head. “I’ll run you a bath, if you want.”

He shut his eyes against the cool touch of your hand and nodded. “That’d be nice, honey. Real nice.”

That’s all he would ever have to say. Even less and you’d still do anything for him. He would never even have to ask.

-