#I'VE HAD THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR LITERAL MONTHS AND I COULD NOT REST UNTIL I GOT IT DOWN YOU GUYS DON'T UNDERSTAND

[iloveetoeatbananas]

hiii love, not sure if you’re taking requests for Minho (maze runner) but if you are, could you write one where shy fem reader gets caught in a situation where her shirt accidentally rips up in front of everyone in the glade (you can choose the interesting situation of how that occurs lol) and she is bare, then feels vulnerable cause the gladers start whistling and stuff but Minho immediately takes his shirt off and covers her to protect her.

She feels safe with him and he is protective of her even though they haven’t talk much as she hardly sees him cause he’s a runner- mutual pining ig 🥰. And maybe it could end in some spice hehehe

stop it this is literally such a cute prompt I squealed when I read this. And spice is my specialty so I'm glad you asked me to include that😜. I hope I've done your idea justice!! And yes I am always taking requests and looking for new things to write so honestly ask away!!

Protective (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

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Context: Pre Thomas, look for summary above ^

Warnings: Cursing and spice

Word count: 2.8k (sorry this one was a bit short)

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

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Being the only girl in the glade was definitely a struggle at times. Obviously Alby had set up rules and regulations for all of the other gladers to follow to try and make you feel as comfortable and welcomed in the glade as possible, but there was only so much he could do. Though no one had tried anything physical with you, you always found a way to overhear hushed conversations regarding you and your body.

However, during your time in the glade you were able to become close with Chuck, Newt, and a few other boys. You could always find yourself laughing and hanging out with them the way they did with everyone else. They never treated you differently just because you were a girl, which is what you had grown to greatly appreciate.

You had been in the glade for a little while. In fact, today had been the 4th month since your arrival, and you knew this because a new greenie ascended from the box this morning.

His reaction getting out of the box was to be expected. He gave the normal theatrics, looking like he was about to have a panic attack, asking question after question, and then actually having a panic attack. But unfortunately he was harder to calm down then most. And being keeper of the medjacks, and baring the title of, 'the caring one' around the glade, it was up to you to calm him down. You didn't mind it though, he was a really sweet kid and he didn't even look to be much older then Chuck.

"I feel bad for the poor greenie." Newt sighed before continuing. "I mean, I feel bad for everyone who has to come down here and deal with the whole 'trapped in a maze' bit, but he's just really young." Newt explained while he plucked a blade of grass from the ground and held it in his hand. You and Newt always tended to come and hang out by the garden whenever neither of you were out working. And because you were finally able to get the new guy to calm down, he was taking a nap on one of the beds in the medhut, and since the medhut had been particularly slow otherwise, you and Newt were able to talk a bit before dinner and the bonfire.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." You say with an exhale. "It's still difficult to come to terms with this whole thing, even after being here for a few months." Newt gave you a silent nod after you said that and neither of you said anything afterwards.

Newt was always good company. Neither of you had to talk and fill the air with conversation because being silent around each other was almost comforting in a way.

The silence between the both of you had been broken though, when you both saw Minho and the rest of the runners run out of the maze and begin jogging towards you both, probably heading to the maze room. The maze doors began to close, incasing you in glade for yet another night.

As Minho passed you and Newt, he greeted both of you with a wave and continued to jog past you.

Though you have been in the glade for a bit, you and Minho had never really spoken to each other before. Your schedules definitely didn't allow for you guys to talk to each other, considering he was always in the maze and you were always in the medhut. However, there was something about him that totally drew you in, you just didn't know what it was.

"Someone has a crush, huh?" Newt said with a smirk as he turned his head to look at yours. Immediately you turned your attention back to Newt.

Shit you were totally staring at Minho just then.

"A crush? Your talking like a child right now Newt." You say with a bit of an attitude.

"Well it's not like you're denying it." Newt says with a chuckle as he begins to stand up from his sitting position on the ground.

"Oh slim it." You say while rolling your eyes and taking Newts hand as he helped you up so you can both start heading to dinner.

Both you and Newt woke up the greenie and took him to dinner, and the evening continued like any other. Everyone was welcoming of him and it was good to see him laughing and actually talking to people.

Eventually, Gally and a couple others began to set up for the bonfire, so you took the quick opportunity to freshen up in your hut. It was honestly really nice of Alby to force Gally and the other builders to make you one just so you felt like you had enough privacy.

You changed into a pair of shorts and changed out of your tank top. You put on one of your favorite/ only shirts, which was the perfect balance of baggy yet tight on you. It was going to get colder throughout the night so you wanted to have a bit more clothing on, and you also couldn't stand the idea of being in your tank top for another second. Definitely not after sweating your ass off in it the entire day.

You joined up with everyone else and soon the festivities began. Everyone, including yourself, was drinking Gally's very shity brew and of course the greenie almost puked after one sip. Needless to say, the drink was a bit of an acquired taste, but he would get used to it. Gally was playing that stupid wrestling game with the rest of the gladers and everything was going as per usual.

You had found yourself a seat on a bench next to Newt, and you allowed your back to rest on the bench, letting out a sigh as you began to relax. You sat closer to everyone else than where you would normally sit, because you were still trying to keep your eye on the greenie. Minho, Chuck, and a group of about 10 others were sat down with you on surrounding benches. Voices and jokes filled the air and your stomach began to hurt from laughing so much.

It was times like these that mattered most when you were in the glade. It reminded you that though you were all trapped here, at least you were making the best of it. Without this type of structure, you'd bet that even Alby would've gone mad by now.

"Hey I'm going to get another drink, do you mind coming with?" Newt asked me, already up out of his seat and in front of me.

"Yeah sure, I could use another glass anyways." You explained while taking his hand.

All of this would've been fine if your shirt hadn't snagged on a loose nail from the bench.

As newt pulled you up from your seat neither of you had realized what had happened until way too late, the damage was already done by that point. Your shirt wasn't made out of the best material, so the entire thing had completely ripped off of you.

So there you were. Stood in front of an enormous group of boys wearing nothing but your bra, which only provided the bare minimum amount of coverage.

Apparently the rip from your shirt was loud enough to earn the attention of everyone, even Gally's group who was stood further away from you. It took you, along with everyone else, a moment to fully comprehend the situation. And in that moment you would've been more then happy if a griever showed up and swallowed you whole. Nothing compared to the amount of embarrassment you were feeling in that moment. Especially not when you began to hear whistles and laughs from some of the boys.

By this point you had both of your hands covering your chest, and your mind was completely blank. What the hell were you even supposed to do in a situation like this? It would take you ages to live this down, and of course something like this had to happen right when you thought everyone was getting over the fact you were a girl.

Newt stood there staring at you along with everyone else in the group of people who were sitting with you. You could see a couple guys in front of you let out laugh a laugh, which only caused your eyes to well up with tears.

You had never cried in the glade. Not once. You couldn't let yourself.

You didn't cry when you arrived from the box, or even when you were ostracized for being the only girl. But still you couldn't help but feel so utterly humiliated.

Even though it had felt like you stood there on display for hours, it had only been at least five seconds since your shirt had ripped off. Before anyone else could turn their heads to look at you, Minho got up suddenly.

He took his shirt off quickly while walking over to you, and you took your arms away from your chest, allowing him to pull his shirt onto you so you were no longer stood half naked in front of anyone. You were shocked by his gesture. Out of all the people in the glade, you had never thought he would be the one to protect you like this, but you were thanking god he did.

As he stood towering over you for a couple more seconds you couldn't help but take in what he looked like shirtless. And jeez, lets just say all this running he does pays off. He looked like he had been carved out of stone by the gods. His abs looked chiseled on, and you were going absolutely feral for it. In the most respectful way possible though of course.

Half of the glade looked just as shocked as you, and the rest looked disappointed. You heard groans and curses from Gally's group, as if they were annoyed with Minho.

"Oh come on Minho, you really had to ruin it for everyone, huh?" Gally said, and it was obvious that he was already through multiple glasses of his moonshine. His snarky comment was warranted by a couple of snickers and laughs from the other boys sitting with him. Minho turned around to face him and at this point they were stood with a bit of distance between each other, but still not much. And it was safe to say that Minho looked like he was about to maul Gally.

"What did you just say?" Minho questioned, his voice dark and menacing as he began taking steps towards Gally.

"Oh what, you going to defend your girlfriend?" Gally contested while slurring and hiccupping between words, getting in Minho's face as he said it.

"She doesn't have to be my girlfriend for me to treat her like a normal shucking person, Gally." Minho said while firmly standing his ground.

It was quiet for a moment before any other response was made. You and the rest of the glade were just staring at them, and honestly you were thankful that the attention was finally off of you.

If it wasn't for Alby pulling the two boys apart, the night would've ended with someone bloody and bruised, and someone, or both of them, ending up in the pit.

Alby pushed Gally away and grabbed onto Minho's shoulder as he led Minho back over to me. "Minho take (Y/N) back to her hut and get her situated. I'll deal with Gally." Alby says, clearly annoyed with what the night had turned into.

You and Minho both silently began walking back to your hut. You wanted to thank him, you needed to thank him, but you just didn't know how you were going to. As he opened the door to your hut and both of you stepped in, he closed the door and you just stood looking at him. You were still flustered from him being, you know, without a shirt, but you had to compose yourself.

"Thank you Minho. For um- you know, giving me your shirt and stuff." You say while looking at the ground, your cheeks red from embarrassment as you painfully recall the whole situation.

"It was no problem really." Minho said as you looked back up at him.

"Yeah it's just- I don't know what I would've done without you-" And although it sounded cliché, you meant it. Your voice began to break after trying to continue, your words getting caught in your throat. Before you could compose yourself enough to say anything else, Minho brought you into his arms gently, and hugged you. His warm embrace made you feel safe and secure, and immediately your worries washed away as you hugged him harder. You buried your head into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist and he wrapped his around yours.

You could've stayed like that for hours, but you forced your head away from his chest and looked up at him, staring deep into his eyes and he did the same. There was a thick tension in the air as you felt the temperature in your hut increase.

Minho tucked a piece of your hair back behind your ear, "I'll always be here to protect you." Minho says while giving you a genuine smile, your stomach doing somersaults as you completely folded under his gaze. As your eyes followed his for a moment longer, you noticed them glance at your lips and before you could even process it, he kissed you.

You stood there shocked and bewildered, this night had been an absolute rollercoaster of fucking emotions and you were not prepared for it once so ever.

After not reciprocating the kiss Minho pulled away, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to- I don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of you or something- I-" But before he could finish his sentence you kissed him back, your lips merging into his completely, as if you were two magnets that were completely drawn together naturally.

The kiss was passionate yet gentle, and you practically melted into him. You let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth and your lips worked against his in unison. For all you knew, Minho was the first boy you had ever kissed, and you were totally fine with that. You didn't even need to kiss any other boy to know that Minho did it best.

You took one of your hands and kept it on his back, caressing his muscles on his upper back. While your other hand found it's way to his nape and you began to take his hair between your fingers, tugging at them more whenever he kissed you harder.

He kept one of his hands by your waist and the other at your back, trying to bring you as close to him as he possibly could. He held you as if you were the only thing worth holding onto, and he was never willing to let you go.

You could feel the heat radiating off of Minho as he pinned you against one of the walls in your hut next to the door. You were left completely breathless once Minho pulled away, biting at your bottom lip as he then continued to kiss you down your jaw. You could feel him begin to suck at the sensitive part part of skin between your neck and collar bone, causing a small whimper to escape your mouth.

Minho continued to kiss down your collar bone and as low as your shirt's neck line would let him. You could feel his kisses become more sloppy and desperate. It was as if he couldn't wait to get his hands on more of you, and you couldn't wait to give yourself in to him.

You pushed him off and quickly took off your shirt, tossing it to the ground as Minho stared at you. He put his arms around you again and smirked as he began to kiss you, more hungrily this time.

"I'll never let anyone else in the glade see you like this again. I promise." He said between kisses. The sincerity in his voice was prominent.

You could tell that all of what Minho had said was true. If any other boy tried to touch you, or even look at you in the wrong way, he would be there to protect you.

In that moment you had realized that no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho made you feel. He satisfied all of your desires and he fulfilled you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You were everything he wanted, and he was everything you wanted. But more importantly, he made you feel safe, like as long as you were in his arms he would never let anything bad happen to you.

Then suddenly, there was a nock on the door. Then it swung open abruptly.

"Hey um (Y/N), I really wanted to apologize for earlier-" But before Gally could say anything else, he turned his head and saw you and Minho, half naked and pressed against each other.

"Oh shuck- I didn't mean to- I'll leave now." And with that, he was out of the door as quickly as he entered it.

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ok guys heres another!! I really hoped that yall liked it. I had quite the fun time writing this and I think it turned out pretty well!

btw I'm going to start working on pt.2 to stranded, and I should have it finished relatively soon, but I've never written smut before so that's going to be quite interesting. But seriously thank you to everyone who wrote nice things under that post you have no idea how much it means to me ❤️❤️

[artianwen]

You're in "the good place".

[mypoisonedvine]

Best friends dad! Cillian + pussy worship

literally impossible to say no to a request like this!!

warnings: 18+ only smut!!! go away children, established relationship, oral f receiving, semi public sex, age gap (not specified), kinda pervy cillian lmaoooo

"Just a peek," he begged, "that's all I need, I swear."

"I told you, not here," you giggled softly, pushing him away gently at the shoulders only for him to come right back, leaning in close and kissing softly just above your ear. "Someone could come in--"

"Then you shouldn't have told me here that you're wearing the pair I picked out," he smirked, biting his lip a bit as your thighs clenched together. "I haven't even had a chance to see them yet-- please, baby?"

You took a glance around the study, making sure you couldn't hear anyone just outside the door-- but it was hard to keep track of people sometimes, your best friend was pretty popular and had plenty of guests at her graduation party. The idea that one of them could find you two in here was just as terrifying as it was tittilating.

Relenting, you lifted the bottom of your dress just a bit, and he tilted his head a bit as he helped you pull it up to reveal the thin lace, hardly leaving anything to the imagination; he sighed sharply through his nose, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes tight for a second. "Fuck," he whispered, looking back down again and holding the skirt up higher when you tried to drop it down. "Fuck, baby-- that's sexy. Jesus."

You giggled and kissed him quickly on the cheek, stepping away to get back to the party-- but he held your wrist and pulled you back into him, smirking at your pouty whine and resting his other hand on your cheek as he copied your little frown condescendingly.

"Just a little more," he pleaded, "just stay a little longer, please-- I've missed you so much. And you didn't let me get a very good look."

"You're so needy," you scolded, and he smiled as he nodded in agreement.

"Fuck yeah, I'm needy-- I need you all the goddamn time," he admitted, making you shudder a little. He lowered his voice when he spoke again, a deep purr that seemed to reverberate right through you: "I need to taste you."

"Fuck," you sighed, shutting your eyes-- because you already knew you weren't going to be able to resist him. "You realize how fucking dangerous this is?"

"Yeah," he laughed, already sinking to his knees, guiding you one step back to lean against his desk, "yeah, I do, but I have needs, you know."

He pushed your dress up again, dropping his shoulders at a closer look of the panties he'd chosen for you.

"Oh, angel," he breathed, petting you through the lace with just the tip of his thumb at first, grinning as you shivered. He pulled the fabric aside painfully slowly, looking up at you with a proud smile as you had to bite your lip to hide a moan already.

He gave you a long, wide lick over your folds, a muffled moan coming out against your skin as your hips jerked in his grip.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised as he pulled back, using his thumb to gently stretch your clit back. “Cute, swollen little clit,” he breathed, “pretty hole— fuck, you’re perfect.”

"H-hurry up," you panted, "someone's gonna notice we're gone--"

"Fuck, I don't care," he laughed breathlessly, interrupting himself with another open-mouthed kiss to your pussy. "I don't fucking care-- I need you to come on my face right now."

He dove in again, and you whined as you grabbed at his hair, running your fingers through it as your head tilted back. He knew exactly what he was doing, running his tongue over every little spot that he'd memorized in just a few months of hooking up on the rare occasions that you two got a moment alone. Honestly, the time in between your rendezvous only made it more amazing when you were finally together again, with all the anticipation and desperation... but you'd never seen him this desperate before.

"You taste so fucking good," he moaned against you, meeting your gaze as he teased your opening with his tongue. "I swear, I didn't know cunt could taste this good."

"Cill," you choked, feeling your chest tighten as you watched him grin and slide the tip of his tongue inside you. "F-fuck..."

"I think I need to eat this pussy every day," he decided suddenly, "at least. Or I might go fucking crazy."

"Y-you already seem... pretty crazy to me..." you managed to rasp out between restrained moans, and he smirked.

"Yeah," he agreed, "I am. S'what you do to me. Jesus. Just look how fucking gorgeous you are."

He sucked and licked and even grazed his teeth, devouring you voraciously until your wetness pretty much coated the bottom half of his face and you were fighting for your life just to keep quiet enough. When you were close to the edge, you rocked your hips against his face, and he moaned softly as he let you do it-- let you use him, looking up at you with heavy eyes that just begged you to come for him.

You did, choking on his name, turning into a whimpery and whiny mess as he licked you clean right after dirtying you up in the first place. You nearly collapsed onto his desk by the time he pulled away, and you were definitely using it to keep yourself upright since you couldn't trust your shaking legs to do that.

He lifted the collar of his sweater up to wipe off your slick from his face with the inside of it, smiling at you as soon as his mouth was exposed again. "I'll see you after the party, right?" he asked as he stood up, sliding your see-through panties back into place and helping you roll your dress down.

"Y-yeah," you panted, watching him leave almost as nonchalantly as he'd entered, rejoining the party and its guests after just a quick correction of his hair.

Soon enough, the guilt for being the worst 'best friend' in the world would set in, but for now, you got to enjoy being the best pussy he'd ever tasted.

[sharkboywrites]

Wait, This Is a Date!?

Riddle, Idia, and Malleus with an autistic reader who didn't realize they were on a date

Male/gn reader, autistic reader, missed signals, Idia is implied to also be autistic

A/N: I've noticed that some people aren't very obvious when asking someone out or generally establishing their feelings. I actually realized that one of my ex-friends stopped being friends with me because I wasn't picking up on their signals, what's up with people lmao

One afternoon after you had finished all of your classes, your closest "friend" approached you looking rather nervous and asked you to accompany them later. Seeing this as just a request to hang out was friends, you accepted. When he suddenly thanks you for going on a date with him halfway through your activity your caught off guard.

"Wait, this is a date!?"

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh boy, be prepared to start apologizing because the once surprised look on his face at your sudden outburst melted to one of pure sadness. He was absolutely dejected

He took this as you rejecting him halfway through the date he put so much effort into

He even baked all the pastries for your little tea party date :(

He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He put on a serious face despite clearly being on the verge of tears, and apologized for... making you uncomfortable? Wasting your time?

Well that wasn't what you wanted

In another quick outburst you cut him off and say that you didn't actually mean it in a negative way

You started doing the usual over-explaining hoping that he wouldn't get the wrong idea (more than he already had) and apologizing for not getting his signals

The relief he felt in that moment was something he doesn't think he can compare to anything else in his life

He actually started crying for the fact that "oh thank the sevens they're not rejecting me"

After he calmed down the two of you went back to your tea party date, although both of you aware aware that it was a date this time

bonus: Trey and Cater screaming internally after watching all of that from afar (They'd be there for Riddle's first date as emotional support you can't convince me otherwise)

Idia Shroud

Lord have mercy you're going to kill him

It took him so much to build up the courage Ortho blackmailing him to come over and play video games just for you to not know he was asking you on a date???

He played Stardew Valley with you what could be more romantic than that???

He kinda just sits there and stares at you

He's processing give him a minute

Literally the only response he gives you is just a "Uhh..yeah. Duh." (he's trying to not give away how disappointed he is)

And in you just respond with an "Oh."

Awkward level 100%

After sitting there for a few seconds rocking back and forth to make yourself a little more comfortable, you take a deep breath and lean your head on his shoulder

"Well I like this date."

He tries to hide his flustered face after that, but you can see the tips of his hair turn a soft pink in contrast to the usual blue

He really is bad at hiding his emotions

for the rest of the night the two of you keep playing video games together, and you eventually fall asleep on him, which he freaks out about but tries not to wake you up

Really just two autistics trying to figure out how to date and flirt

Malleus Draconia

So funny thing

He thought the two of you were a couple long before the two of you went on your "first date"

You know that thing on tiktok that's like "check with your autistic s/o that they know your dating because it turns out I've been dating someone for months and had no clue" Yeah that's the two of you

In his eyes it was established that the two of you had been dating. He probably confessed in his old poetic fae way of talking.

So he was just like "You are the sunrise to my day, the cool breeze on a summers day, the blood in my veins." and you were just like "Yep me and my good ol' pal Malleus. besties :)"

What do you mean friends don't give each other little trinkets they find pretty? What to you mean that's fae courting?

What do you mean friends aren't that affectionate? What do you mean friends don't hold hands, hug, and tell each other how much they appreciate them?

Honestly when you burst out with the question, he just laughs after a minute while you sit there flustered and confused

he has to sit you down and explain to you that you've both been dating for at least three months by this point. Lilia was even starting to ask him if he was going to ask you to marry him (he's impatient)

He does make sure that you're okay with this relationship and that you actually want to date him

After this you're relationship grows even stronger rather than growing weaker, he thinks it's endearing

He'll make sure to be more forward and literal with you from now on

if I'm being honest all three of them give me "autistic just not diagnosed yet" vibes. Ty for reading and have a nice day

[from-the-clouds]

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?” 

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree. 

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 

“That’s it, nice and slow.” 

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 

“Yes, please, please,” 

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”  

“No.” 

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’ 

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him. 

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 

“You do.” 

“So…. I’ll teach you.” 

“....Okay.” 

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do. 

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

[claymoresword]

Wild Nights

Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon Fem!Reader

Summary: Margaery Tyrell has a long term secret affair with the King's oldest sister.

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, transmasc coded reader, alpha/beta/omega dynamics if you squint, breeding kink, cheating, penetrative sex, blow job, porn absolutely no plot

Note: ok this is totally self indulgent and literally no one asked for it but i've had the idea floating around in my mind since i finished GOT literally 9 months ago but i finally found the motivation to sit down and write so here it is...

not sure if anyone is gonna even click on this tbh but if you're here hi! enjoy!

Just as you are about to drift off into a slumber, you're jolted awake at the sound of knocking on your door.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you glanced at the window, it was still pitch black out, as you were well into the hour of the owl.

For a moment you wonder if you had imagined the noise, but when you hear the same knocking again, you climb out of bed.

"Who goes there?" You asked as you approached the door but you received no response.

Curiosity gets the better of you, with a firm hand on the knob you pull the door open slightly, your expression immediately relaxes once you realize who it was standing on the other side.

"Hello, y/n" Your sister in law greets you.

The Queen stood with her arms wrapped around herself, her robe clearly not providing her adequate warmth as she shudders.

The fireplace alight in your chambers being the only reason you aren't affected by the piercing chill of the night.

You find yourself taking in Margaery's appearance; only in her nightgown and robe, her hair loose and unkept. You study the charming curve of her lips as she gazes at you. Even in the dead of the night, she remains breathtaking.

"Your Grace, is everything alright?" You ask with real concern, the expression the other woman gives you in return is sheepish.

"I could not find sleep." Margaery admits and your stare turns incredulous, but you remain unmoving.

"May I come in?" She asks after a beat and you remain silent but you finally pull your door open wider, allowing her to enter.

**

As soon as you shut the door, Margaery is on you.

She kisses you, heavy and desperate, her body flush against yours. It shocks your entire system, however, the feeling quickly morphs into a wave of arousal as her tongue enters your mouth.

You feel your cock beginning to harden in your breeches as you rest your hand on the small of her back before moving it to grip her waist.

"Wait–" You say breaking the kiss, Margaery makes no attempt to hide her fervor; she chases your lips, before halting to meet your gaze.

"Shouldn't you be in bed with your husband?" You taunt, although already knowing the response.

Since they've gotten married Margaery has shown no true interest in Tommen. It was you she wanted from the start, you she would have chosen to wed if the matter of union was up to her.

The glint in Margaery's eye as she prepares to answer only works to excite you further.

"I don't want my husband." She responds, capturing your lips for another searing kiss, this time you chase her lips as she pulls away.

"He is clumsy and inadequate." Margaery quips, kissing you again. She leans back slightly to playfully tug on your bottom lip with her teeth.

Once again you feel blood rushing directly to your groin, your cock now throbbing as your breath shallows.

Margaery notices immediately as the hardened bulge remains pressed up against her thigh. A shiver runs through you as you watch her smirk grow.

"Whereas, you always know where to put your hands.." She explains, tilting her head to plant a lingering kiss on your jaw before moving to your neck.

You feel her hot breath against your skin as she reaches down to boldly palm you over your breeches.

"You know exactly where to kiss me." Margaery whispers before placing an open mouthed kiss on your neck, you have to fight the urge to grind your member into her hand.

"You know how to make me feel good." The Queen adds, her mouth now lingering over your ear, she plants a wet kiss against it and she moves her hand so she may begin unlacing your breeches.

"Fuck–" You say, already so unbelievably aroused, your cock straining almost painfully.

You reach down to assist her, hastily undoing the laces before pulling down your breeches.

Margaery merely chuckles darkly at your impatience.

You pull down your pants, finally revealing your cock, hard to the touch and already dripping with your seed.

Margaery's eyes remain on the length in between your legs, her expression betrays a raw and primal hunger.

You grab a handful of her hair, pulling her close for a sloppy kiss, one she reciprocates eagerly, you don't pull away until you are both panting.

"Get on your knees, sweet girl. I want to feel your pretty mouth around my cock." You order with a firm hand still gripping a handful of Margaery's hair.

The Queen obeys with no protest, you watched as she kneeled before you.

Margaery swipes her thumb across the head, lubricating it with your own release. She then wraps her fingers around your girth, stroking it with purpose and dexterity.

Her hand felt good, but it was not enough.

With your hand still firmly on the back of her head, you guide her face closer, desperate to feel her mouth.

Margaery decides to give you what you need, she runs her tongue down your length before finally wrapping her mouth around the tip. She takes in a deep breath, lowering herself, soon she has all of you in her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she sucks.

"Fuck– You mouth feels amazing." You praise through pants, and Margaery lets out a moan in response.

Her mouth continues to work towards your pleasure, she lowers her head further, you let out a groan as the tip of your cock comes into contact with the back of her throat.

"I'm close–" You say, and Margaery continues her steady pace, sucking your cock like her life depended on it.

You shut your eyes as you rest your head against the door. Soon you are unable to focus on anything beyond the feeling of Margaery's talented mouth as she brings you to your release.

You empty yourself in her mouth, the Queen makes no effort to pull away, placing a firm hand on your rear to hold you close as she swallows every drop.

You release your grip on her hair and the other woman finally pulls away, your member falls out of her mouth as she does.

You swiftly bend down, crashing your lips against Margaery's as she rises, your tongue enters her mouth shamelessly and without reserve, tasting your own release.

In just a few moments you feel your cock return to its hardened state once again.

You pull Margaery closer, until her body is flush against your own, you wish to ravage her, worship her, wreck her, just to put her back together again.

"My turn." You breathe out against her lips, swiftly pulling her robe off her body.

**

You kick away your own breeches that were pooled by your feet before lifting your nightshirt over your head.

You attempt to do the same with Margaery's nightgown but she stops you with a hand on your wrist.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, even though Margaery's face indicates nothing of the sort.

"No, nothing is wrong. I just wish to go slowly, if you don't mind." The other woman says, biting her lip.

"Ofcourse, anything you want." You reassure, and Margaery grins.

"Good." She says, getting on her tiptoes to kiss you again, she begins leading you to the bed.

The back of your knees hit the bedframe and Margaery nudges you by the chest slightly, gesturing for you to take a seat.

You watched intently as she kicked off her footwear before moving her hands to the laces of her nightgown.

However, her movements are tantalizingly slow, and you are only growing increasingly mad with need.

Your mouth remains agape as you observe her and Margaery has to purse her lips, stifling her amusement.

Then it finally occurs to you; Margaery doesn't want to go slowly for her own benefit, she only aims to torture you.

"My love.." You plead.

The other woman merely smiles, feigned innocence.

"Hm?" Margaery says as she finally grabs the hem of her nightgown, but she's still not moving fast enough.

Your cock remained unbearably hard, standing at attention.

You take it upon yourself to start stroking your length, in an attempt to take advantage of the sight before you and douse the burning heat at the pit of your stomach.

Margaery is finally naked, she soon steps closer, lifting your chin before capturing your lips with hers. She then reaches down to grab your hand, pulling it away so you would stop pleasuring yourself.

Before you get a chance to protest, the other woman finally climbs onto the bed, situating her legs on either side of your lap, languidly straddling you. Your mouth continues moving against hers with intensity and desperation.

Margaery's hands remain on your shoulders as she steadies herself, and you prepare yourself, but much to your dismay, the Queen makes no effort to make you enter her.

As her lips leave yours, your expression is almost pained but Margaery only seems to thrive off it.

"Do you want me?" She asks, grinding her heat against the length of your cock, coating it with her arousal.

"I do– please." Your voice trembles with need, as you grip her waist firmly attempting to guide her, but the other woman does not budge.

The tip of your cock is now prodding her entrance, you can feel just how wet she is, but Margaery's composure doesn't falter.

You decide to take a different approach.

"I want to feel your tight cunt wrapped around me. I want to stretch you out until you're all sore, until you have trouble walking and sitting down on the morrow." You say, and it works to break her resolve.

Margaery's gaze visibly darkens as she grips the base of your length, holding it place as she lowers herself onto you.

You both throw your head back at the initial sensation, Margaery lets out an unrestrained moan and you respond with a groan.

Her cunt felt so warm and wet, it made you see stars. As she begins to move her hips, the Queen moans again, loud and unapologetic.

You were certain in the quiet of the night, the entire Red Keep would be privy to her blatant calls of pleasure, but neither of you cared.

Margaery's fingers threaded through your hair before she roughly grabbed a handful of it. You wince at the sensation, but the pain quickly dissappears within the immense pleasure you feel as Margaery picks up the pace.

The Queen's gasps are broken and incoherent, the feeling of your cock repeatedly hitting the right spots within her, stretching her out in the best way, makes it impossible for her to catch her breath.

You lean forward to swipe your tongue across one of her nipples before wrapping your lips around it as you begin sucking.

Margaery lets out a wretched whine at the feeling, she moves her hips harder as you turn your attention to her other breast.

"Does my cock feel good, my love?" You ask, a firm hand against her jaw so she's forced to look at you.

"Yes– so good– You always make me feel so good." Margaery admits in between pants before throwing her head back once again.

You can tell her release is approaching as her movements grow inconsistent, her walls clenched tightly around your girth.

Soon Margaery comes undone on your cock, her moans reverberating through your chambers as the orgasm rips through her.

She goes slack on top of you from the sheer force of it, resting her head on your shoulder as she attempts to catch her breath.

"Seven Hells." Margaery says, you feel her breath against your neck as she does.

**

The Queen is still trembling when you decide to flip your positions, the other woman lets out a gasp as you expertly lift her up before carefully laying her down onto the mattress.

You don't allow Margaery time to question it before you begin your thrusts, your cock still hard, hitting a spot deep within her.

"Oh, Gods– y/n" She moans, her hands find your back, her nails continue digging into your skin as you moved your hips, hard and fast.

With every gasp and moan from Margaery, you retaliate with grunts and groans. Her cunt feels so tight and wet around you, every thrust pushes you closer to your release.

You lean down to kiss the other woman and she kisses you back, open mouthed and messy.

You then tilt your head to do the same to her neck. You sink your teeth into her skin, leaving an ugly bruise just above her pulse point.

Margaery lets out a low groan at the sensation, pulling you closer by the back of your neck.

As the coil in your stomach tightens, you forcibly hold yourself up by your forearms, slowing down your thrusts in the process but keeping them just as deep.

"Shall I release my seed inside of you, sweet girl?" You ask, planting a chaste kiss against Margaery's cheek.

"Make you fat with my child again, would you like that?" You add, your fingers sinking into the flesh of her hip as she keeps her legs firmly wrapped around your waist.

Margaery nods, eager and ready, her own orgasm slowly creeping up on her.

"Yes– please– y/n, fill me with your seed. I wish to bear a dozen of your children, only yours." The Queen says, and it pushes you over the edge.

The coil finally snaps, and you release your seed deep inside Margaery's wanting cunt. At the same time, you feel her walls tighten around you as she lets out a loud moan, the Queen climaxed for the second time that night.

You collapse on top of her, unable to support your own weight any longer. Your bodies now slick with sweat, both of your chests heaving as you ride out your peak.

Margaery gently threads her fingers through your hair as you attempt to regain your strength.

"I love you." The Queen admits earnestly, just above a whisper, and your heart pounds and constricts with adoration for the other woman.

"I love you more." You respond, lifting your head to look at her.

[neoarchipelago]

And they were Roommates (part 6)

A/n: ok here's a little warning. First from now on i'll take a bit longer to publish because ... work. It's also slightly shorter than usual

second i've realised that i had completely forgotten that Keller is the last name of the character Alex. So i do want to underline that it is not in fact alex Keller.

third, thank you so much for the love you have given to this story, it warms my heart. I hadn't written in a long time and i was afraid to post anything. I'm really happy that you guys like it.

Fourth, thank you so much for the little ideas you send me, they're very helpful. I apologise if I fon't translate the full idea into the story but i try to add any little thing you send my way.

fifth, you are entirely allowed to fucking hate me.

Warnings: as usual, cursing, violence, mentions of death.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"(Y/N)". 

You smirked.

"Yes?" You questioned, glancing back as you sat at the counter in the kitchen. 

"What time is it?" He asked from the couch. 

"It's 7pm" you answered. 

You smiled down at your computer. (Y/N). You had heard him say your name more than a couple dozen times today. Since you both told each other your real names, he had seemed to chant it non-stop. At any little question or situation. 

"Y/N." 

You rolled your eyes. 

"Yes Simon?" You chanted sweetly. 

A few seconds ticked before he answered. 

"I have to tell you something." He answered, tone serious. 

You paused your current activity to turn in your seat towards him. He was looking back at you. 

"I have a Mission scheduled." He warned. 

"Oh. Alright." You answered cautiously. 

"I won't be here for a while." He announced. 

"For… a while?" You frowned. "How long?" 

"Around 2 months." 

You swallowed, looking away. You didn't exactly know how to react. Obviously he had missions. You found yourself in a mix of sadness, worry and frustration. 

"Y/N." 

You looked up at him. By the look in his eyes, you felt like he was going to ask if you were ok. And you didn't want to answer that. 

"Why do you keep calling my name?" You asked. 

He remained silent. You stood up walking to the couch letting yourself fall next to him. He closed the file on his lap, red letters stamped on it. 

"Simon ?" You pushed. 

"I don't." He defended. 

"Simon." You scolded kindly. 

He groaned, looking away. 

"How will you know if I'm addressing myself to you?" He debated. 

"We literally are the only two people here." You chuckled. He ignored it. 

You sighed, shrugging. You turned to the TV letting yourself enjoy the time you could spend with him. The tv played with whatever show was on as you started to think about something to order for dinner, too tired to cook. 

"I like it." 

You blinked. 

"Hm?" You questioned, turning to him. 

He raised his hand, turning your head so you looked at the tv instead. 

"I said. I like your name." 

"Oh. Really? It's nothing extraordinary though." You said blushing a bit. 

"I was curious. After a few weeks. About your name." 

You tried turning your head to him but he repeated his move, groaning annoyingly.

"It's… delicate…" he praised. 

You felt your heart rate quicken. He.. liked your name. 

"So… you like how it sounds?" You asked. 

"Pretty much." He said matter of factly. 

"Alright." You nodded. 

"I like… that it's your name."

You turned your attention back to the TV, your mind unable to process anything after what he had just told you. 

"I.." you started after a long minute. 

"I like when you say it…" you said in a low voice. 

The rest of the evening was spent very calmly. As per contrast to the rest of the week. 

You sighed, grabbing your things to head out. Simon had been spending more and more time at the base. He had been preparing with the squad, preparing gear, tactics and training harder.

You could feel it. He had progressively grown colder. The ghost taking its rightful place, ready to hunt its target. You could feel him being careful around you, his mood had a drastic change and it seemed he tried to keep you away. 

You tried to give him the space he needed. But you grew more and more worried and sad as the days passed. 

You walked out of the door, walking down the apartment complex. 

You stopped and cursed as soon as you walked outside. 

"Hey Sparrow! Ready?" 

"Soap. What are you doing here?" You asked, obviously already aware of the answer. 

"Price asked me to come pick you up on the way to the base." The sergeant answered with a smile. 

You rolled your eyes. Walking to him he opened the passenger seat for you. You thanked him, sitting and buckling your seatbelt. You watched the man skip to his side and get in. As you started driving to the base you asked. 

"How is he this morning?" You asked. 

"Well. Murderous." He smirked. "He's been training with some recruits coming along on the mission this morning and I think he's making them regret ever enlisting." He laughed. 

You sighed. His mood had been becoming more and more sour. Not necessarily because he didn't want this mission, but mostly because he was entirely focusing on his target. The thought made a shiver down your spine. 

"I don't think I'll be of help this time." You said. 

Price had been asking you to come by the training sessions or after meetings to try and soothe his moods, but the closer the day of departure arrived the harder it became. 

"Ah, don't worry. We're used to it. He's not entirely bad. As soon as he'll be in the field, he'll be the LT we're used to." He said. "We, the squad. I don't think you've seen him like that. But not sure… he wants you to." He said with a smile your way. 

You bit your lip. Did you want to see him like that? A part of you did want. Another felt anxious at the thought. 

The rest of the ride was spent in small talk. The closer you got to the base the more you could feel your body fall into a stressful state. 

When soap parked in front of the training grounds, you walked out before entering the warehouse, the first thing you heard was the sound of people talking. The place had been rearranged as a training ground. Various dummies, people sparing at each other on mattresses. 

Soap dragged you towards the rest of the squad a bit further from the rest. 

"Here's our little bird." Price smiled. 

You sighed but threw him a weak smile. You turned your head to the closest training mat. A breath caught in your throat. He saw fighting. With a man that surprisingly was a bit taller than him, also wearing a mask, though much looser. You watched the punches and kicks being thrown. They weren't holding back. Suddenly Ghost body slammed his opponent to the ground, the sound echoing. You flinched. That must have hurt. 

"Don't worry, sparrow. They're used to it." Price tried to reassure you. 

"Sure… if you say so. He seems to be fully into it." You commented. 

"He is." 

"I don't understand captain. Soap said it's usual for him to behave like this before a mission. Why do you want me to show up everyday?" You asked, turning to him. 

He put a hand on your shoulder, walking you a few steps away from the rest of the squad. 

"This time is a bit different. He seems. Frustrated." 

"I don't think my presence helps." 

"It does a bit. Though I know it's getting harder for you to deal with his mood. Today especially. The departures date was moved. We leave in 48h." He said with a sorry look. 

You took a moment to process the information.

"It's not hard to deal with it. I'm just sensing it's being more and more useless. He's getting frustrated at me." You answered honestly. 

"I don't want you two to fight. You don't have to go see him." 

"I'll try. One last time." You replied with a soft smile. 

He nodded. You turned back to Ghost. The fight was over, his opponent walked away, slightly limping and rubbing the back of his neck. You walked towards him. 

"You ok?" You asked lowly. 

"Ah, ja, I'm ok!" He answered the taint of accent on his words. 

You smiled, continuing your path towards the man readjusting his gloves. 

"Hey." 

He stiffened, looking back at you. 

"Why are you here?" 

Ouch. You smirked at him. 

"Price asked me to come check something for your mission." You lied. 

He nodded. His chest heaved, his breath had quickened from the physical exercise though he didn't seem out of breath.

"Will you be home for dinner?" You asked. 

"I don't know." He answered in a cold tone. 

You could hear, Price started to walk up to you too very slowly. 

"I can keep a plate for you if-" 

"Sparrow. I'M BUSY." He barked, the sound echoing. A dreadful silence stood in the whole place. Everyone had stopped talking.

You flinched. Not enough for the others to see but he had noticed. The sound of small talk started again, probably under Price's glare.

"I'm sorry Ghost." You tried. Standing your ground hands behind your back. 

"Lieutenant." He corrected coldly. 

Price had finally reached the both of you. 

"Fine." You spat back, the staring match now showing off both of your frustrations. 

"Do you need anymore help captain?" You asked, not dropping your gaze from Ghost. 

"No sparrow. Thank you and I apologize for-" 

"It's fine. If lieutenant Riley wants to be a dickhead that's on him." You said, visibly angry and visibly taunting the man. 

You turned around walking to the rest of the squad. 

"You good?" Gaz asked.

"I'm perfect. I'll see you guys another time." You said with a smile towards them before exiting the perimeter. You took a deep breath outside. Fuck. What was wrong with him? The behavior had changed so drastically. A week ago, he was chanting your name in every sentence. Now he refused to even say it. He was cold. It was hard to hide the fact it was hurting. You were trying to see his point of view too, but you missed his old self. 

You closed your eyes for a second. You had work to get to. So you did. 

You had stalled. A lot. It was very late. You didn't need to be at the base. You could have spent the day working from home. Fuck you had finished all your work. Yet it was 9pm. And you were only turning the key in the lock to the apartment now. 

You didn't want to fight again. You didn't want to fight before he left. You dropped your things on the ground and fell face first on the couch. The house was silent. Dark. It felt odd. You turned, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. You closed your eyes. Several minutes passed by before you heard his door open. You sat up as he walked into the living room. 

You shared a look. He seemed annoyed. His new signature mood.

"What?" You spat. 

"Don't." He warned. 

"Don't what?" You replied in the same tone. 

"Don't be a brat." He said. 

You laughed coldly. 

"I'm not the one being a brat Simon." 

"Lieutenant." He corrected it once more. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"Why did you pass by the training grounds again?" He asked. 

"Because Price asked me to." You answered honestly. 

You stood up walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He stopped you halfway, grasping your arm. It wasn't soft but he was still careful not to hurt you. 

"Sparrow. Don't come insult me in front of my men." He said in a serious tone. 

"I didn't. I came to ask you something. You fucking yelled at me." You answered. 

"I have other things to do other than giving you attention." He scolded. 

"I didn't ask for attention." You replied, taking your arm back and crossing them over your chest. Fury growing in you.

"Y/N."

"Oh, we're back on a name to name basis?" You asked sarcastically. 

He frowned. You were pushing his buttons. Unfortunately for both of you, he was too. 

"Sparrow. You and I are not-" 

"What? We're not friends?" You asked, interrupting him. 

He stood there, silent. 

"Is that what you're going to say?" You started now letting your anger finally out. 

"Are you going to push me away again? And then leave without saying a word?" You continued your tone slowly rising. 

"Are we going to fight until you leave and then you'll come back as if nothing happened? Fuck Simon! It looks like you're doing this on purpose!!" You ended. 

And suddenly it hit you. Like a shit ton of bricks.

"You are…" you said in a whisper. 

He turned away. 

"You are! You're doing it on purpose. You're making us hate each other before you leave on missions." You said, incredulous. 

"Y/N stop." He warned in a tone that promised repercussions. 

"Why? Why are you doing this?" You asked, stepping closer. 

He seemed to think for a minute. 

"I'm a soldier. I go out there. I kill and I very possibly… get killed." He explained. 

You frowned in confusion. He groaned in annoyance. 

"I might not come back." He said abruptly. 

"I know that. So what? You think making me hate you is what…? Going to make it… feel ok?" You asked. 

He looked straight at you. 

"My death isn't something that deserves mourning." 

You blinked. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Anger spoke volumes. Actually it moved fast too. You didn't exactly know how you grabbed the pillow from the couch and started hitting him with it. 

"SIMON, FUCKING RILEY, DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT AGAIN." You punctuated every word with a hit. 

He groaned. You were really hitting his last nerves. 

"I care! I fucking care! It's not up to you to decide if I should or not!" You said, this time tears prickling at your eyes. 

He noticed. You hit him harder trying to hide it from him. He grabbed the pillow, snatching it from your grip and throwing it somewhere in the room. He grabbed your wrists making you back up against the wall. 

"Calm down." He tried, his voice slightly calmer. 

"No! Fuck Simon!" You scolded. 

You stared at each other. 

"Lieutenant Simon ghost Riley, you better come back to me." You whispered. 

He didn't say anything. He leant forward, letting the top of his skull mask rest on your forehead and hissed a fuck. Your breaths mixing together. 

"If we hate each other. We have nothing to lose in this situation. We shouldn't have…been friends in the first place." He explained in a whisper.

"Do you hate me?" You asked in a whisper too.

His grip on your wrists tightened. He didn't answer. 

"If I don't come back. You're going to have to deal with it." He answered coldly. 

He let go of your arms, stepping back as you looked at him, eyes wide in shock. He simply turned around. And walked out of the apartment.

You bit your lip closing your eyes. God. He was stubborn. You were hurt once more. Even if you knew he didn't mean it. In his stupid attempt to spare you from being hurt, he ironically hurt you. 

You took a deep breath. You wanted to sleep, forget this whole discussion. You wanted to roll into your blankets. So you did, and you let sleep take you. 

That morning, you had gotten up with very little motivation. You had realized quite quickly he had not slept home. You tried to go about your day but your mind kept running back to him. Was he really going to leave with saying goodbye? 

The hours ticked and the more the realization settled in. He wasn't coming back. You decided to go to the base in the afternoon to drop a report. You had met with the squad, avoiding talking about their lieutenant. You told them goodbye, threatening to go find them if they don't come back. They had announced they were leaving late in the night, the departure being changed again. 

You were going to miss them. You had started to get used to their presence. To enjoy their company. They had grown on you. 

You walked home pretty late. Feeling devastated by your roommate's behavior. You wanted to see him. Talk to him. Hug him before he left. But it wouldn't happen. The thought making you want to cry. 

You walked into your apartment. The silence felt horrible. You dropped your coat over the couch, slowly walking to his bedroom. A shy knock on his door was heard. It was the only thing heard. Nothing. Your hand reached for the doorknob slowly. Turning it, you opened his door. Empty. He wasn't there. 

You turned around, feeling the need to go back to your bed. You froze. Your door was open. You frowned, slowly walking into your room. You noticed a bag on your bed. You approached, sitting next to it. You opened it, taking out the soft object inside. 

You stared at it. Tears rushing down your cheeks. It was a squish-able round plush. Of the grim reaper. It was black, with a cute skull for a face. You hugged it. 

Knock knock knock. 

You looked up. Holding the plush, you stood, walking to the door. You opened it. 

"Hi! I'm… Sergeant Hansen… I'm your new neighbor… are you ok?" 

You stared at the man in front of you.

He wasn't going to say goodbye.

----

tags:

@lemontails @cabreezer0117 @tomhardy411 @brxghtixghtz @shuttlelauncher81 @pinkdazelight @sirenbunnylol @snortangeldust @novausstuff @gasstationfifacard @emotion-not-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @simpforavillain @minimisthios @catied32 @poohkie90 @watermaylon-writes @thereealink @meimhem @sorryi-mtrash @gaymistakeboii @bittersw33t-lotus @gh0stm3g @freckledmuffin @itsasecrets-things @xback1021 @connierk690 @feedthefandoms995 @friendlyneighboorhoodgothicpagan @dead-noodles @friendly-reject @critter-mylo @honeymariee @badame0224 @kitty-satan1 @all-good-things-have-an-ending @tianotfound @thriving-n-jiving @hailstrum18 @kiruoris @thats-s0-ravenn @orcasarebigbabies @makastaco @abajointrossyearl @kaylynninice24 @cated18 @swg141 @ghost-2513 @whore4dilfs @yggrid @jaehyacinths @juneitoo @popevickysmainbitch @topgirl17 @mildlyhopeless @feyredarling92 @thegirlintheshadows101-blog  @badbittywitty @yourmom3-5 @tapioca-marzipan @xoprincesslea @here4thespice @goldyghoul @wolfyland07 @chingaderastillidie @d4z01 @stokcholm @khjssss @julesclues @hopefuloperaangelnerd

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[llamamamareads]

An Illyrian Baby: Part III

Part I | Part II

This is the final part of An Illyrian Baby. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for all the love and support. It's been a long time since I've written on tumblr and had absolutely no intention to do so again, but when the initial idea popped into my head I literally could not sleep until I got it out of my system. I can't promise anything in the future, but we'll see ;) xx

Azriel x Reader

Several hours later, you walk hand in hand to the infirmary with Azriel. You’d had a long conversation about the pros and cons and he decided to agree with these methods on the condition that Madja stops the moment anything goes wrong with you. The problem at this point was more Azriel keeping his cool than anything. Shadows wound up and along your legs as you walked, twisting and turning in spirals around him as well. His jaw was tight and he kept a firm grip on your hand. You pull your joined hands to your lips as you approach the infirmary door. “It’s only a broken bone, Az,” you murmur as you press a kiss to the back of his hand.

“Only a broken bone,” he mutters and shakes his head. “An unnecessary broken bone.”

“It’s not unnecessary if it works.”

He shakes his head and walks through the doors. Cassian is standing to the right with Rhys and Feyre to the left. Madja stands with her back turned as she pours what smells like tea into a mug for you. Azriel helps you onto the cot and presses his lips to the top of your head. “Drink this and we’ll begin as soon as you’re asleep.” Madja hands you the mug and you drink every drop, handing the mug back to her.

You fall asleep rather quickly and Madja nods to Feyre and Rhys. Together they get into your mind to ensure you will be at peace throughout the process. Cassian stands at the foot of the cot, watching Azriel closely. Madja stands across from Azriel but at your hips rather than higher up your torso. “Ready?” she asks. Once Feyre and Rhys nod she looks to Azriel who swallows and nods once as well.

Immediately, the sounds of bones breaking echoes throughout the room and Azriel lets his breath out in an audible woosh. With the sound of a second crack he drops to his knees beside you, his hands dropping your hand to grip the sides of the cot. The third crack sends shadows whirling around the room, your body covered in swirls of them with more bouncing around the room uncontrollably. The lights are knocked out by the surge of Azriel’s power.

Cassian steps to one side and Rhys to the other, each gripping one of his shoulders. Madja continues working and Azriel’s grip on the cot never falters. The chaos of the room continues until she’s finished. “She’ll need to rest a few days before getting up and about. If she needs anything, I’ll be here.”

Azriel carries you to your room and tucks you into bed. He sits next to you and traces patterns on the skin of your arm gently as he waits for you to wake up. He sits for hours waiting, his shadows continuing to whirl over you protectively.

When you wake up, you are genuinely in the worst pain you’ve ever felt. You try to sit up as you open your eyes, but let out a soft grunt of displeasure. “(Y/N) don’t move, baby. What do you need?” Azriel asks, helping you to shift to sit with the pillows at your back.

You shake your head gently. “I’m fine, I just have to pee.” You move to kick your feet off the side of the bed and let out a whimper at the movement. Azriel immediately scoops you up and assists you throughout the process, informing you of everything Madja said of aftercare.

For two days he doesn’t let you out of bed. It’s a week after that before the pain settled into soreness. Unfortunately, a month later, you return to Madja to repeat the process. It takes 3 sessions before your bone structure reflects that of an Illyrian female’s. 3 sessions, 3 months, and more pain than you’d both ever wanted to endure later. You both had stopped drinking contraceptives. You weren’t up for any activities throughout the process as it was, but the sooner you both stopped drinking it, the sooner the effects would wear off for later.

A year later, you’re cooking dinner when Azriel walks into your quarters and slides his arms around your waist from behind. He kisses where your neck meets your shoulder and freezes when he inhales your scent. A slow grin spreads across his face and he kisses your skin again. “You’re pregnant,” he murmurs, turning you around. He drops to his knees in front of you and kisses just below your navel. “You’re finally pregnant,” he grins up at you, squeezing your hips gently with his palms.

You both celebrate that night but wait to tell everyone until you’ve seen Madja. It was easier said than done. You kept to yourself in your quarters and Azriel swore Madja to secrecy. You lay down on the cot the same as you’d done for every other appointment with her and Azriel takes your hand. Madja places a hand on your lower abdomen and smiles fondly.

“You indeed are pregnant. With not one but two babes.”

You look up at her then Azriel, both of your faces expressing shock. “Two? We’re having twins?”

“Yes, dear. Twins. Don’t worry about a thing,” Madja promises and pats your hand, seeing the worry behind the excitement in your expression.

“Twins,” Azriel repeats, a grin from ear to ear as he wraps you in his arms and twirls you around. “We’re having twins!!”

@psychobookaholic @inpraizeof @kexrtiz @historygeekqueen @elizabethrosecresswell @icy--stars

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ 1,862 days !

pairing: yeonjun x reader summary: being able to love yeonjun, and the road that lead you to him word count: 1.3k extra: happy five years to our oldest member!! 4th gen it boy yeonjun!! apart of my anniversary series!

yeonjun was like a breath of fresh air, a saving grace. moving to korea at eighteen was rough, but running into the boy on the streets suddenly made it all worth it. you had bumped into him early in the spring - you were still bundled up in a jacket wandering aimlessly around seoul. instead of finding your friend at the coffee shop she had promised to wait for you in, you quite literally ran into yeonjun.

'excuse me, can you help me?' you pleaded through broken korean, and he laughed slightly, understanding the gist of what you were asking him.

needless to say, he gave you directions, even walked you to the shop and sat down with you after you realised your friend had set out on her own to find you. he even went a step above the rest and walked you back to your apartment after learning just how new to the area you were.

the rest was (basically) history. all it took was one day for him to ask you out, and those dates quickly turned into weekends tucked away from the rest of the world hiding out in your apartment. your roommate was rarely home - she worked odd hours and had her own girlfriend to visit.

before you knew it, five months by yeonjun's side became five years.

"all i'm saying," you began, your boyfriend humming mindlessly on the couch as he half watched tv, half played on his phone. "is we should go out for our anniversary."

yeonjun nodded absentmindedly, your words not truly sinking in. "yeah, yeah." he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone. kai had got him hooked on some two player game, and now the duo were both constantly on their phones, fighting monsters or something.

"it's too bad taehyun asked me out too." you giggled, leaning over the couch to watch his reaction.

nothing.

"i mean, is it bad i said yes? we don't technically have plans, so it's not a big deal."

he didn't even acknowledge your presence.

"but i felt bad, because i had to turn down wooyoung, and dino, and changbin - yeonjun could you at least blink to let me know you're not some zombie?" you groaned, moving around the sofa to sit next to him.

now it was his turn to laugh and he wrapped his arm around you, his phone discarded next to him. "i was listening," he teased, eyes glistening with mischief as he smiled, clearly proud of himself. "i just wanted to see how ridiculous you'd get."

you chose to ignore his statement, moving past the ordeal. it was sort of childish. "so, dinner? tomorrow night?" you posed, moving to sit on your knees. it was almost as if you were ready to beg. anniversaries meant a lot to you - especially as this one marked five years since moving to korea.

it was hard, leaving your life behind. but, you had to. and things had worked out. really well.

"i've got practice. why don't we go out tonight? today marks five years of us meeting." he offered, frowning when he noticed just how disappointed you were.

"yeah, sure." you smiled, pushing yourself up off the couch. "i was hoping you'd be able to get off work tomorrow, but i get it. i promise i do."

he nodded, sighing. "have you talked to your parents recently?" the question caught you off guard - no matter how good or bad of a relationship you had with your parents, calling them rarely crossed your mind. when was the last time you spoke to either of them?

"no," you huffed, though more out of annoyance with yourself than with him. if you were to call them, they would chew you out for ghosting them. but life was busy, and the time difference did not help. "they weren't the biggest fans of me moving out here, you know."

his eyebrows furrowed as his head tilted slightly to the side, "they weren't? but - when i met them a bit back, they seemed so happy for you."

you tried to suppress the growing grin on your face at the idea. "my parents were so far from happy for me, jjunie. they just didn't want to upset either of us."

he nodded slowly, letting the information seep in. "well, that's too bad. i hoped to talk to them. but i guess i could see how they probably weren't the biggest fans of their eighteen year old deciding to just move out and into a foreign city."

"why would you want to talk to my parents?" you snorted, the idea so completely absurd it didn't even seem real. "didn't you say something along the lines of, 'i'm sorry you're related.' when you met them?"

he shrugged, clearly unable to form the proper sentence. you took his silence as a cue to leave and get ready for dinner. by the time you were done he'd probably have made a reservation somewhere, or called some sort of favour in. perks of being famous.

and of course, by the time you emerged from your bedroom, grabbing a hold of your wallet from your dresser, yeonjun himself was already waiting for you by the door, holding your shoes in his hands.

"took you long enough." he smiled, though you could see the faint spread of pink across his cheeks. he was never good at hiding the fact that he was blushing. over the years he had learn't you were simply too good at spotting it, and accepted the fact that you thought it was cute.

"so where are we going out tonight, mr. choi?" you grinned, slipping your shoes on and interlocking your arm with his as you made your way out the front door. sometimes having a first floor apartment was a blessing.

"it's a surprise." was all he said, and you understood that his words truly meant surprise. as in, he was not going to be telling you. but still, you quickly recognised the change of scenery. something about it was familiar.

you were close to your first apartment - the one you lived in when you met yeonjun. you could see the park you spent many afternoons together in. and up in the distance you could faintly see the coffee shop you went to when you first met yeonjun.

and it all made sense.

"coffee for dinner? don't you have practice tomorrow?" you questioned, nudging his shoulder with your own.

he nodded, taking a moment to look at you.

it felt like his breath had been knocked straight out of him.

you were everything to him.

"you know what?" he smiled, pausing.

"hm?" you hummed, stopping just a few feet in front of him. "what is it?"

"i've been in love with you for five years." you felt your heart stop in your chest. "i've spent these last five years doing what i love, while getting to be with the person i love. you don't know how crazily lucky i feel just waking up next to you."

he began to lower himself to the ground.

now it was your turn to have the breath knocked out of you. "jjunie?"

"it would be a lie to say these past five years have been easy, but hey, i love you. so they've all been worth it." he was pulling something out of his pocket.

a ring.

he didn't even need to ask the question for you to begin to tear up (i would.), your answer already so clear to him. "you don't need to even say yes, just let me know i'll be able to love you for et-"

"yes." you smiled, rushing quickly to pull him into a hug. "i've been in love with you since i met you, jjunie. and i plan on loving you for the rest of my life. the past 1,862 days have meant the world to me."

"not like anyones counting or anything." he teased, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

yeah, moving to korea at eighteen was worth it.

a/n: i've never??? written??? a marriage??? proposal???? ive never???? witnessed???? true love????

©2024 - all rights reserved to hueningsloverr, please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[danikamariewrites]

Okay sweet!

I cannot get the idea of Elain with a "Scary Guard Dog" Girlfriend out of my head 😂 like an assassin or something (totally inspired by the tik toks)

I've just really been in an Elain mood lately

Scary Girlfriend Privileges

Elain x reader

A/n: I love Elain with scary guard dog gf that has heart eyes for her! I loved writing this and I love writing for Elain I wish more ppl apreciated her

Warnings:

You were one of Azriel’s spies but after an injury that took you far too long to recover from you decided to retire

But retirement didn’t sit well with you

You asked Rhys if there was literally anything else you could do a group you could join to serve the court with

That’s when he introduced you to Nesta who immediately took you in as a Valkyrie

You liked this group of females. They made you stronger and better

Plus it was nice to have friends that you could be close with

You had met most of the IC in the two months since you became a Valkyrie but you had yet to be introduced to the 2nd Archeron sister

You had seen her garden and heard the way everyone talked about her with love and kindness which made you very curious about her

Sitting in the kitchen of the House of Wind with Nesta, Gwyn, and Em you enjoy tea and gossip

You’ve loosened up since leaving the spy days behind. Learning not to be so serious all the time has been nice

Voices floated into the room from down the hall. One was Rhys but you couldn’t place the other female’s voice, Feyre maybe?

When the new guests came into view everything metered away and Elain seemed to glow brightest, like she was meant to be the center of attention

You froze staring at her with wide heart eyes

You were so distracted that when Rhys introduced her to you, you didn’t even hear anything

You just held your hand out and smiled like an idiot as her soft palm embraced yours

Gwyn and Em teased you endlessly about your crush on Elain

When you finally decided to do something about it it was months later

The two of you started hanging out casually just getting to know each other

One night Elain made the first move. She quickly leaned over on the couch and kissed you

When she drew back her face was nervous and unsure. You leaned forward, faces inches apart, whispering, “Can we do that again?”

You spent the rest of the night making out and even cuddled in her bed

Now you’ve been dating for well over a year and it’s hilarious to see you two next to each other

While she wears her pretty pink dresses (which you adore) you wear all black or other dark colors

Elain likes to take you shopping to see if you’ll get out of your comfort zone and you indulge her

She does like when you wear all black when you’re out and about. She’s noticed the oddest thing, people usually give you a wide berth on the street and in stores

Elain has watched males who seem to want to approach her think twice after spotting you and your unforgiving stare and run away

Even on the rare night out she only dances with friends. Strangers used to come up to her all the time which is why she avoided clubs

Elain loves that you’re like her guard dog

You’re mean to others but are a sweetheart to her

Never in a million years would she tell you to stop either

She’s never felt safer than with you. It’s like a new found freedom

[instarsandcrime]

Tuned Out

Oh gosh it's been uh. Almost a month since I've written something??? Well, I hope you enjoy this one! I loved the idea of a sick L/uc/ifer spiraling, and being broken out of it by A/la/stor's radio show because I'm weak to the idea-- though it can be interpreted as both platonic and Ra//di//o//A//pple.

And here's a quick heads-up: Though this is still the usual fluffy fic, the spiral paragraph itself is a bit rough. So I'm going to put a trigger warning below and in the summary when I add this fic to the list. If intrusive thoughts and vague thoughts of self-harm are too much, please skip the italicized second paragraph. You can still read the fic without needing to include this part, so don't feel ANY pressure to do so if you aren't/will never be ready. Please, pleeeassseee take care of yourselves!

Otherwise, enjoy!

TW: Intrusive thoughts, vague thoughts of self-harm

---

Burning. His skin felt like it was burning him alive. That was the only sensation Lucifer could feel. His tired eyes stared up at the canopy of his bed, face glowing softly with fever. Its flush spread gold across the embedded pearls above, making them sparkle like stars. He sighed, crackling sparks floating from his lips as thoughts poked and prodded at his overheated mind.

Fuck. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? Can’t move, can’t get up, can’t get a glass of water, eat dinner, call Charlie– call. Charlie? Oh, poor Charlie. She must be so disappointed in him. He chuckled weakly, What would she even say to him that she hasn’t already thought? He could imagine it. He really could. ‘Seriously, Lucifer?! I literally meant nothing to you for years and now suddenly you waltz into my life? And instead of actually spending time with me, you’re calling from a room that could’ve gone to someone who truly needed it, ordering me to wait on you hand and foot like I’m your butler? Like our entire relationship meant nothing? You threw me away, and now you’re going to do it again?! You know what? You deserve this! You deserve to rot in your bed! Get as starving and sick as you want! At least now the inside will match the outside! You’re terrible! I hate you! No. No, you know what? I wish you got your second shot at Heaven. I wish you had at least a week of laughter, fun, and fucking fireworks so they could tear off your wings andyoucanFallalloveragai–’

A burst of static pierced the air, shattering the constricting spiral just before it could break him again– and replaced it with a new form of dread.

“Why hello there all you wayward sinners! Welcome once again to tonight’s show with your host: The Radio Demon!”

“Uuugh!” Lucifer groaned dramatically, snatching one of his many pillows to press over his head. 

Right. The stupid fucking radio. From under the shadows, the sickly demon couldn't help but glare daggers at the piece of junk resting on his nightstand. Alastor had requested those old, outdated mortal inventions for every hotel room– specifically from the 1920’s era because apparently he preferred style and substance. Whatever that meant. 

Regardless. He insisted that it was needed for announcements, communication, and entertainment. In other words– somewhere, somehow, Alastor was currently studying him and him alone with invisible eyes. Surgically scanning him at the seams for the slightest rip. The slightest tear. As if his prey wasn't the most powerful being here. Dramatic bastard.

“And how are you doing this fine evening, Your Majesty?” The radio sung.

“Go away.” The lump of fluff grumbled.

"Of course not! It is my duty as your hotelier to take note of every little detail of my building, no matter how tiny and insignificant. And I am ever-so-glad I have! It is quite the rare sight to watch our King of Hell lose face to a simple case of the sniffles. Truly a headline for the ages!"

An angry red blush painted over the king’s golden cheeks, immediately pushing himself upright. Towering wings puffed, pillows and blankets tossed about the bed as he went. "Now see here! Sinners get sick. Overlords get sick. Hell, Charlie and Lilith can get sick! Me? I’m just rehhh…Snff! Ugh, resti'g…"

"Resting. Of course. I suppose I will believe you for convenience’s sake--"

"Hhheh…! Het'shiew!"

"--oh! Bless you."

"Het'shhhiew!"

"Bless y--"

"Hep'shhhh! 'Etshhh! 'Tshhh! 'Tshhh-'tshh-'tch! ...HhhhehhHH...! HEH'TSSHHHIEW!"

"My goodness, bless! You sound absolutely miserable. Shall I fetch you a glass of water? Or another blanket, perhaps?"

"Nhhh– no." Lucifer protested between hitching breaths, conjuring a handkerchief with the flick of the wrist, "N-no thahhh...hhhah! Hhhh...”

He finally lowered the cloth when the tickle finally fizzled out, heaving a sigh of relief. “Ndo thadk you. Snff!" He took a deep breath before letting loose a mucky blow into the fabric, "It's fine. I'm fine."

A pause. "Ah."

"What? What is it now?"

"Oh nothing, nothing! I’ll let you get back to your rest. But before I go, could I mention one more thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s just. Well, I had my first impressions, but I assumed that the King of Hell wouldn't be so cowardly."

"Cowardly?!" Lucifer repeated incredulously, spitting a plume of smoke.

"I see your hearing is as sharp as your wit."

"I'll show you cowardly you…y-you…hhh-!" The demon’s nose twitched desperately, and he cursed between hitching gasps as it tried again and again to just get. The damned itch. Out.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that."

"You…you self-important…hehhh…p-pompous…!" 

"How flattering of you to notice my worth! And would you believe it? You're absolutely right! I am the fundraiser for this humble project, after all. The guide for these poor, misguided souls. Ones such as yourself."

"Oh, please! We both know you’re...you're no behhh...better than…hhhH–!" Lucifer's handkerchief raised to his face.

"Trying to use your infamous silver tongue through a sneeze? My word! Charlie had told me you were stubborn. But this?"

"Eshhh! Et'SCHHH! HEH'ETSCHH'HHHIEW!" He quickly twisted his head away to let loose a breath of flame, barely singeing the well-abused cloth.

"Poor, poor Lucifer Morningstar.” Alastor teased, his voice as soft and careful as a snake in the grass. The smattering of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, circling the bed. “Always choosing your own heavenly guilt over the needs of everyone else."

"HEH'ESCHH'HHHIU! Hehh! Hhh…hghh…"

"Which is a shame, considering the ill resident who requires attention. Trapped in their own feverish mind. Alone while their partner is away. Unable to move or think or even ask for help properly. But I’m sure you wouldn’t know how it feels for them, considering how indestructible you are."

"...There is?" Lucifer finally croaked, cringing to himself at another gurgling nose blow.

"Of course! While you were hiding in your room with your wings tucked between your legs, I'm afraid you've missed someone very important. Someone close to you."

Lucifer froze. He didn't mean.

"Mmm. Let's see." As the radio host thought stubby knobs spun on their own, playing flickers of songs diluted by time. "Rosy cheeks. Blonde hair. Red eyes that sparkle so damn brightly one could go blind."

Oh no.

"Puffy bow tie. Black fingernails."

Did. Did he get his little girl sick? Please, please don't let that be the case.

"The most spell-binding singing voice."

He thought back to breakfast. How Charlie had eaten less than normal. How she sniffled once or twice at the table. Wait, did her face look pale? Maybe the light didn’t catch it?

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

"Wh-where is she-- they, um! That. Resident right now?"

"Oh, performing the usual suffering patient routine. Lying in bed. Being miserable. Quite adament about sleeping the bug off. Reminds me of the ol’ picture books that star wealthy socialites and their sickly Victorian children. The ones who die due to their parents' neglect and mistreatment."

"I could help her." The fallen angel mumbled anxiously as he pushed himself upright. "I could help her right– …now..." 

The second he dared to stand he nearly fainted, stumbling dizzily to grab the bedpost for support. From beneath a small string of black tentacles sprouted from the ground, nudging him back into place and under the covers as The Radio Demon tutted disapprovingly. 

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can't partake in the complex act of resting, then what good are you to our dear, sweet Charlie?"

"Shut. Up." Lucifer hissed, "I am a grown adult--"

"--debatable--"

"--and I choose what to do with my free time! And it's my jo-- koff koff! j-job to help my daughter when she needs it!" A shaky finger waved at all six radios. Or were there seven?

"To be quite honest Sire, I would prefer to do my tasks without your meddling. Actually, I would prefer not to perceive your existence at all, thank you very much. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless you'd rather call her yourself. But I know you won't." A mocking tone laced with static, “You c̴̨̮͊o̶̗̤̿ẇ̷̙á̴̼̖ȑ̶͉̕d̶̙͚͗̕.”

“I– wh–” Lucifer laughed in sheer disbelief, snatching up his phone. “Y-you’re– you’re joking, right? I’m not some– some godforsaken hermit!"

"Then by all means, prove it."

"I am!"

“I’m waiting."

"Oh, I’ll do it! I’ll do such a good call. It’ll be the– snff! goodest caller you’ve ever seen.” The King of Hell pouted like a child as he moved his claws.

“Ugh. Lord knows how he’ll act if he gets worse.” The radio mumbled quietly.

“Whassat?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty! I forgot that your company as of late are less of the civilized and more the rubber duck variety.”

"Of all the– if you weren't stuck to Charlie like a parasite I would take the sharpest end of my tail and shove it up your--"

Click!

"Dad?" A voice croaked.

"Charlie!" Lucifer's venom turned saccharine sweet, flipping on a dime. "Hey! Hi! H-how are ya, sweetie?"

"Mmrgh...what time is it?"

"It's. Um. Evening…time? Look, that doesn't matter right now. Are you feeling alright, kiddo?"

"Am I feeling alright?" His patient echoed sleepily.

"Yeah! I uh. IIIII just wanted to check in. See if you were okay." 

"Oh. Um, I'm okay." A bit of rustling and a pause. "Are you okay?"

"Snff! Me?"

"Yes, you! You looked so tired at breakfast this morning, a-and you didn’t eat anything which never happens! And you were kinda glowing? It kinda seemed bad but I didn’t want to ask because maybe it was a personal thing and– wait, your voice is…are you crying?!" Rustling turned into the shuffle of pacing slippers.

"What? No! Nonononono! I just--" Lucifer froze, feeling another itch start to build, handkerchief nowhere to be found under the sea of fabric. "Jhhh-just excuse mbe for– snff! For a seggond. Keebp t-talki’g…!"

He quickly pressed his hand against the speaker, stifling into his shoulder until the scratchy wool felt damp. "Hh'ntt! Hh’ngk! Hhh’TCH! ‘TCH! Hhhhh...HT'CHNXT'hiew! Guhh..."

"Sure. A-anyway, you called me pretty early in the morning and after all that and this. Soooo…is there anything I can do to help?"

Desperate claws scrambled to craft a new handkerchief and wipe his streaming face. "N-no! No, no-- snff! absolutely not! Worry about yourself Char-Char, I'm fi--....f-fihh...!"

Hang up, pinch your nose shut, do anything but--

"HET'SHHH'HIEW!" Lucifer doubled over.

–sneeze.

"Oh geez, that sounded terrible!” Charlie gasped, “Is that why you've been in your room all day? Are you sick?"

A sudden, very obvious realization hit him. Silently the fallen king sunk into his mattress, wishing he could be swallowed by his comforter. His cheeks burned. The familiar description. The taunting. 

“Can I. Call you back, Stardust?” 

“What? Whoa, whoa, wait, we’re not finished here–” With a final monotone beep, the call ended.

"You.” Lucifer clenched his fangs.

“Yes?” Alastor hummed non-chalantly. “YOU.”

“Gracious! No need to shout. Even The Devil Himself should know that a sickly patient musn’t raise his voice, lest it get worse than it already is!”

“Watch your back, bellhop. Next time I see you, no ring of Hell will compare to what I-- koff! I’ll–" The threat died with a wheeze, breaking into another ill-timed fit.

"And that's all for tonight, folks!" The radio suddenly hopped back to life, "Tomorrow's show may be a little dicey schedule wise, as our guest star is feeling quite unwell. Will he finally exit his literal and proverbial cave of sorrows for once in his miserable life? Or, much like his saintly past, will pride once again be his downfall--"

"Dad! Are you– eep!"

Charlie's entrance was suddenly interrupted when a black fist rained down on the damned noise box, breaking in a fit of bouncing springs and wooden splinters. The room stilled until a meek, nervous chuckle finally broke the spell.

"Charlie, dear?"

"Y…yeah?"

"Um. Could. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?"

[beetleviolet]

So. Uh. @midwesternvibes I've kinda been spamming your profile lately (my b) buuut I wrote something inspired by this villain Leo analysis, especially your unique perspective on why Splinter made Leo the new leader. Super cool! I hadn't thought about it like that!/gen

I didn't go in a villain direction because YOU ARE LITERALLY KILLING IT I AM SO INVESTED YOU DONT EVEN KNOW BRO!

This is more hurt/comfort. Feel free to ignore or enjoy :)

Tw: arguing, child neglect/emotional neglect, childhood trauma, and reference to suicide, but in reference to Leo's prison dimension stunt so uh. Kind of suicide.

Ironically, it was Splinter's idea. 

He wasn't the best father, that much he knew, but he wanted to be better. He couldn't hide from his problems behind a TV screen, not anymore. Not when he had 4 big, big problems that he had caused. 

He brought the idea to Michelangelo first, always the most willing for second chances and growth. Orange didn't look as ecstatic as he might have months ago, no, he had grown in those few months, perhaps too much. He studied Splinter for a moment before a small, hopeful smile,

“I'm glad you want to try.” And, well, if Splinter wouldn't do anything for his sons before, he would do everything for them now.

“Go with Leo first.” Splinter tilted his head. He had been planning to go with Purple, the most obviously insecure, or maybe Red, who would accept the affection easily. 

“With Blue? Why?” 

“Just trust me.” Mikey said, “And be nice!” Be nice. Why wouldn't he be nice? It kind of hurt that his son thought otherwise, perhaps a kind of hurt he deserved. 

Blue was slippery. He snuck out of any invitation, like he could smell what Splinter was thinking. Mikey had more than one hushed conversation with him, tucked away in his subway car with the door closed. 

Finally, after almost two weeks of trying, Blue agreed to go out for a walk. And that was that. 

Leonardo was… abrasive. Obnoxious at best and an egomaniac at worst. It was odd that Orange had suggested that Splinter spend time with Leo, the most confident, and the most well adjusted after the events with the Krang. 

Maybe this would be a sort of warm up, an easier bonding experience before he had to deal with Red or Purple. 

Hm. “Deal with” probably wasn't the right phrase. Take care of? Help? He wanted to help. 

Blue prattled away, as always, talking about anything under (and over) the sun. Making joke after joke. None of them were very funny, Splinter preferred Purple's dry sense of humor. His Lou Jitsu days were so full of puns, he found he could hardly stand them anymore, but he gave a couple pity laughs. Mikey had told him to be nice, after all. 

“So, you ready to head home, Daddio?” Splinter glanced at Leo's face, which was spreading an easy smile, 

“What- it has only been fifteen minutes!” Blue shrugged, not slowing. They had been walking aimlessly around Central Park, Leo with a slice of pizza and Splinter with a soft pretzel. 

“And I don't think you want to break that streak.” He said it in that animated tone he always took on when he was joking. But this time, it wasn't funny. Or, well, more not-funny than usual. 

“What streak?” 

“Angie said if you made fun of me, I could go home.” Splinter stumbled, having to press forward faster to keep up with Leonardo's unfaltering steps. Angie said if you made fun of me, I could go home.

“Why would I make fun of you?” To a stranger, Leonardo would appear unaffected, but Splinter caught the downward twitch of his brow, the sudden tensing of his shoulders, quickly hidden as his hands rose to rest on the back of his head, his expression smoothed into something nicer, so quickly, it might have been a passing shadow. He wouldn't notice if he was a stranger. He might have noticed sooner if he barely wasn't. 

Leo did something rare. He hesitated, covering it up with a shrug and a glance to his left. Casual, easy-going. He laughed, something high and sweet. And then he didn't say anything more. 

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. 

“Why would I make fun of you?” 

“Kidding, Pops.” He assured, picture perfect grin. A blink, and Splinter almost felt like he was looking in a mirror, 17 years ago. 

Splinter wracked his brain, trying to remember all of the parenting books he had asked April to get for him. 

Take accountability, he had read, you have to show respect for your children, and apologize when you make a mistake. 

Splinter had never been very good at apologizing. Maybe it came from being a movie star. Maybe it came from before. His Grandfather used to make him his favorite foods, cut him the sweetest fruit. Splinter didn't think there were enough strawberries in the world to make up for everything. 

He might as well start. Give it a try. Let Blue know that he was trying. 

“I would like to apologize to you.” This time, it was Leo who faltered. He played it off as a trip, and brought his hands down. Suddenly Splinter was looking at a little turtle, sitting on the kitchen counter, fidgeting with his fingers and sneaking a glance at the broken glass beneath him. Sneaking glances at Splinter. Leo was a much better actor now then all those years ago, maybe a better actor then Splinter ever was, but he still picked at his nails.

“You… what?” Leo said with a laugh, letting his genuine confusion shine through. Splinter gestured to a nearby bench, 

“Come, sit with me.”

“Um, I'd love to but, see, I promised Donnie-” 

“Leonardo.” Splinter was expecting resistance, a groan or dragging feet. 

He wasn't expecting a full body flinch. 

Take accountability. 

Be nice. 

Looking out at the sidewalk, Splinter could almost see a little Baby Blue, only 5 years old, a tiny turtle all wrapped in clothes and sneaking towards the pidgins, hell-bent on catching one. Weeks later, when Splinter had stopped going out, Blue actually managed it. He was with Red at the time, and he had told Splinter about it excitedly that night, shouting to be heard over the noise of the TV. Turning up the volume was so easy. Up, up, up, and everything would leave Splinter alone.

“...I am sorry I snapped.” He said, softer. Leonardo didn't look at him, but his brow twitched, so quickly disguised. Be up front, and honest. “I will not force you, but I would like to have a conversation with you.” Splinter watched patiently as Blue scratched the back of his neck, fumbling out a couple starts to excuses, before petering out and sitting beside him on the bench. 

Up, up, up, and he would leave his everything alone. All alone. 

“I have not been a good father.” Leo hesitated, like he wanted to object, “You do not have to say anything.” So he didn't. “I left you- all of you alone when you needed me, time and time again.” Deep breath. Ok, “I am sorry.” A moment of silence, then another. 

And then Blue began to laugh. 

It wasn't his high, silly laugh, when Donatello fell over or Michelangelo was sassy, or his big, performative chuckle, when making a joke or in front of a crowd, or even that sweet giggle that he had long grown out of, from hugs or tickling or watching a silly show. 

No, this was new. 

This was crackling, high up in his throat and covering his eyes with a hand, a shake of his head. This was filling time so he didn't have to speak, covering his eyes so he didn't have to look, this was his son hiding away, this was paint spread over Hamato Leonardo so it looked pretty. And deep, deep down, this was a flicker of hope, tucked away so no one could see when they blew it out. 

“..Is this a joke?” There were no cracks in the armor of his voice, but his fingers twitched and tapped together, eyes still looking away. 

“No.” Splinter assured. Leo laughed again, this time shorter, a little sharper, 

“I think you misunderstand,” He chuckled, the performance one, “I. Am. Leo!” He said each word slowly, dripping with sarcasm, “This seems like more of a.. Splinter-Mikey conversation.” He smiled. Mirrored. 

“I have talked to your brother already.” Splinter explained, still a little confused. Where was this going? “But I wanted to apologize to you as well.” Leo studied him. Really studied him, up and down. His brow twitched before melting back into his usual expression. Pleasant, smooth, easy-on-the-eyes. He smiled. Splinter was beginning to hate that smile. 

“Let's just head home, we were going to hang out with April-” 

“But I wanted-” 

“We don't have to do this!” There was the snap Splinter had been anticipating. Leonardo's eye contact was sharp, face almost exasperated. Almost. 

“...do what?” Splinter asked. 

“This!” Leo gestured between them, “I've given you, like, two different chances to opt out!” 

“I do not want to opt out.” 

“Well that's a first!” 

And

Ouch. 

Leo looked away, deflating. 

“Sorry.” He muttered, hand over the back of his neck. 

Accountability. Apologize. 

“No, you are right, and I am sorry for that, but I want to spend time with you now.” 

“Why?” There were no lies in the question, no distant undertones or cover ups. It was the first deeply honest thing Splinter had heard from Blue that day, maybe even that year. 

“Because you are my son, and you deserve to have someone looking out for you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you are a person.” Leo looked like he wanted to say something, another snap perhaps, one true and stinging, but he just looked away. 

“...stop messing with me.” 

“I am not.” 

“Just stop!” There was no one around them to look up at the shout, “Just- Can we just go home already?” 

“I want to-” 

“Spend time with me, right?” Leo rushed on, “What would that do, huh!? I'm sure you'd rather be with Donnie or- or anybody!” 

“I do not-” 

“Did I have to earn it? Is that what this is? Did I finally do it!?” Tears. 

“Earn what?” 

“This!” His voice cracked as he gestured in between them. “You- you never wanted to do this before! Did-” He swallowed, “Is it because I'm taking things seriously now? Is that all? I just had to try and kill myself and you'd actually love me!?” 

“I've always loved you!” Splinter cried, horrified. And Blue…

His Baby Blue laughed at him, hand over face to wipe his eyes. 

“It is true!” Splinter felt his own eyes began to water as well. It had been… how long since his son had cried to him? “And I am a fool to ever let you believe otherwise!” 

“I don't care!” Leo almost snarled, “I don't-!” He stopped himself, tucked his head down with his hands on his knees. A collection of leaves blew across the sidewalk, causing a pigeon to startle, settling down a few steps later and pecking at the ground. Leonardo kept his tears silent and steady, sitting on the bench with his hands gripping his knees, almost like seiza. 

“..Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” A small hitch. Leo kept his eyes down. 

“Why did you make me leader?” That… wasn't what Splinter had been expecting. 

“Because Raphael-” 

“Needed a break.” Leo finished. Splinter tried not to be irked at the interruption, “Needed to chill out, right? It was hurting him.” He looked right at him, “Right, Splinter?” The first name rolled so easily off of his tongue. He didn't wait long for an answer, “But better it hurt me then him, right? Since I'm already such a fucking screw up, you might as well finish the job!” 

“Leonardo-” 

“What did I ever do to you?” His voice had a ring to it, a rare one. Honesty. That honest, genuine tone that always came with the "I love you"'s and the ‘hey, its okay"'s and the oh so rare "I'm sorry"'s. Shaky and truthful and hard as a diamond, “I wanted you so bad, I just want- Dad just-” 

There were no parenting books for this. 

Blue let him sit in startled silence, taking his time to wipe his tears. 

Splinter had fucked up. Badly. And he was 10 years too late to fix it all. 

But he had to try. Try again and again until his son knew he wasn't kidding. He wasn't joking. He might never forgive him, but Splinter wasn't joking. 

“I do agree with you, Red needed a break.” Splinter leaned back on the bench and looked at the sky, giving Leo some privacy, “I did not mean to pass that burden on to you. In all honesty, I did not think about it. You are incredibly strong, my son," Blue stiffened at the compliment, "I did not realize how much stress was being put on you. That is my mistake, and I am so incredibly sorry for it.” Leo brought his leg up and hugged it to his chest, looking away. 

“I made you the leader because I thought it would help you grow. Because you are clever, and brave, and can keep your brother's out of trouble without them even knowing it.” Leo huffed out his nose, almost amused. “You are not a screw up. You are a person who makes mistakes and learns, just like any other person.” Splinter took a deep breath. Now for the hard part, “My neglect was no fault of yours.” He was expecting more silence.

Instead, there came a choked sob. 

Leo held his knee tight to his chest, tucking his face away. His hood was up. Splinter reached out a hand, pressing it against his son's shell. 

“It is not your fault.”  

Leo didn't speak to him for the rest of the day, hiding in his room as soon as they got home, but not before leaning into his touch, shoulders relaxing, just a little. 

[clone-whore-99]

Would it be completely out of line to request a Rex fic? You can say no if it is--it's fine. It's probably not everybody's cup of tea to tackle.

The idea is Rex and fem!reader have been in a relationship for a decent chunk of time (six months min?) and reader has definitely fallen in love with Rex . (Because why wouldn't she--he's REX.) He's her first real relationship and she's had all of her firsts with him except her first sexual experiences (beyond some groping) and now finally feels ready to take that step. Except she's nervous and a little self-conscious because, while she has no experience, Rex does and she's afraid to be a disappointment to him. How he handles that information and what he does to soothe her worries, I'll leave to your discretion.

TL;DR: Can I get some slow, hot, romantic, sweet, sexy first-time smut with Rex, please?

BTW, love your writing. Your Mayday fic was literally the first one I found after I searched him on a whim (curious to see how fast the stuff would be coming out for him). Very nice. Way to get out in front of it all!

Hiiii! No of course it will not be out of line to ask for a Rex fic! I am CLONE-whore-99 after all, not just Bad-Batch-whore-99. Sorry it took me so long to respond btw, life's a bitch but just know I've been working on this since I got the ask

Firsts

Rex x f!Reader

18+ minors will get yeeted

Warnings: so much fluff with a little smut to flavor it, lot of firsts, inexperienced reader, established relationships, fingering/handjob, safe unprotected piv, both reader and Rex are such sweethearts, reader is in a bit of a dangerous situation in the beginning

LMK if I missed anything (❁´◡`❁)

Word count: about 4k

Beta read by: @nunanuggets

Please like, reblog and comment if you like my work, it means more than you know ❤

If you want to, you can also help by buying me a coffee ❤

Rex. The love of your life, Rex. The man you could see yourself spend the rest of your life with.  The man you had all of your firsts with - well, almost all.

The way the two of you met, was a classic rom-com meet cute. Something you’d never thought actually happened in real life.

But it did.

To you of all people.

You had just moved to Coruscant for University, first time being on your own in the big, scary galaxy. You had never really thought of yourself as sheltered or naive, but the other students had apparently labeled you as “gullible” and thought you an easy target for pranks.

Most of these pranks were thankfully harmless, but one did seem to take things a tad too far. They had sent you on a monkey-lizard chase on the lower levels, something you quickly realized after being laughed out of a bar, but not before you had managed to get completely lost. 

As time passed on, more and more… Questionable characters came out, and you felt way less secure and a lot more desperate.

Some of them must’ve picked up on your nervous behavior, as they began to circle you, tease you and comment on how you must be from the topside, that you had no place being down there, ect.

You were sure this was it. This was how you were going to die, within your very first week of being on your own. You were terrified, alone and couldn’t help the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

That’s when he entered your life. Your savior. Your hero. Your king. Rex.

With a few stern words, one warning shot purposely missing a perpetrators head by only a hair strand and a few punches for good measure, he had saved you.

He had stayed with you until you calmed down enough to actually talk, made sure you actually got back home to your student apartment and stayed the night on the couch, like the gentleman he was.

The next day was apparently one of his rare days off duty, which he decided to spend with you.

Pretty soon he would spend all of his off time in your apartment, whenever he was planetside. 

He taught you self defense and how not to be so “gullible” when it came to others. He told you about his crazy adventures, about the jedi and the things he faced in the heat of the battle.

In return, you taught him how to relax, to let himself mourn his losses and his brothers and about regular, civilian life. Though, he never really seemed to quite get the grasp of it.

It didn’t take long for you to fall in love with this wonderful man and it appeared the feeling was mutual. When exactly the relationship started, you weren’t sure. It just kinda happened.

Maybe it began when Rex for the first time brought home a souvenir from one of his missions. Nothing illegal or grand really, just a pretty rock he had found while resting, which made him think of you. He was so shy when he presented it to you, rubbing the back of his and stumbling over his words explaining the reason behind it.

Or maybe it was the first time the two of you cuddled together, warming up and drying off after having gone on an emergency grocery run in the pouring rain. Or the first time Rex let you see the emotional scars the war had caused him. Or the first time he had slept in the same bed as you, after you had had a nightmare.

No. It was without a doubt, the first time you kissed. You wanted to make a traditional meal from your home planet, only to accidentally burn it. You were so distressed, wanting nothing more than for this man to experience a part of your home. Rex had calmed you down with a kiss and the two of you ended up going on your first official date, at Dex’ Diner.

Everything about this man seemed perfect. He made you feel like the most important person in the whole galaxy, like you deserved everything good and then some. And you truly felt the same for him.

Which gave you an inkling of guilt. Rex was a rather… experienced man, when it came to bedroom stuff. Obviously. He wasn’t only extremely handsome and sexy, he was calm, intelligent and had an energy about him which made you feel safe. He was ideal in every way possible.

And you… Were you. You hadn’t even as much as kissed a man before Rex, let alone done anything sexual with anyone. You wanted your first time to be with Rex, but you were scared he would be bored or dissatisfied with you.

Why wouldn’t he? There was no way you could give him anything special. Anything he hadn’t tried yet.

You still wanted to try, though. Rex was bound to come planetside within a few hours and you did everything to give him a warm welcome.

You showered, cleaned the apartment, showered again, dressed your bed with new comfortable sheets, made a delicious meal that just needed quick heating once you got hungry, showered one more time just to be sure and went out to get some fancy drinks and sexy lingerie.

Upon returning to the apartment, you heard the shower running. Thinking that you might’ve forgotten to turn it off during the chaos of preparations, you ran to the refresher to fix your mistake. 

How you missed the perfectly stacked, dirty armor next to the bathroom door will forever be a mystery. 

The very next thing you knew, however, was that you had just run in on a butt naked Rex in the shower. And you suddenly felt a whole lot of things at once.

Rex didn’t seem too bothered to cover himself, though he did stand in a way so his more private parts were hidden from you. More for your comfort than his own.

“Y/N, you’re home. I hope it’s okay I let myself in to get clean, our last mission was on this dustball of a planet,” he explained, as if he ever needed a reason to let himself in. You had given him the keycard and code to your door for a reason.

Despite your best efforts, no sound managed to escape your lips. You were kinda just stuck there, staring dumbfoundedly at Rex, feeling your cheeks get hotter and knees get weaker by the second.

After getting a towel to cover himself with, Rex exited the shower and closed the space between the two of you. “Aaaare you okay, Y/N? I really didn’t mean to scare you, if that’s what happened.”

You were somehow unable to move, just staring ahead like a kybuck caught in headlights. Rex placed a hand on your cheek and lightly tilted your head up to meet his gaze. The look on his face was a mixture of worry from your odd behaviour and loving to finally see you again.

“I was gonna surprise you, but I guess you beat me to it.” You finally managed to get out, though your voice was still careful and low for some reason.

“Is that so? What was the surprise?”

Your heart was beating so fast and loud, you nearly feared it might break free from your chest. Your whole body felt like it was burning hot and melting away, with the way Rex was looking at you, with how close he was, nothing but a singular towel to cover himself.

“I was going to make this night special for you,” you admitted, without fully revealing the truth.

“Mesh’la, every night spent with you is special.”

Though his statement was sweet, it was far from what you meant. It felt weird admitting the truth, nerves wrenching your gut. Although you were certain you wanted this that night, with this man, it was still a huge step for you.

Hiding your face in your hands, you pressed yourself against Rex’ bare chest - which did not help with your rapid heartbeat. “I want to have sex with you. I was gonna surprise you with sex,” you admitted, voice muffled from your hiding.

With both hands coming to rest on your shoulders, Rex gave you the smallest shove so you wouldn’t be hiding against him or behind your hands. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” He said, looking confused though you could swear there was something else hiding behind his eyes. “Did… Did you say you wanted to… Have sex with me?”

You nodded slowly.

Rex’ hand moved up to your cheek to cup it, as his lips made contact with yours. It was long and soft, melting away all of the tension you had built up with anxiety.

“Mesh’la,” Rex began, his voice deep and raspy. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Confusion written all over your face, your eyes searched his face for any sign of sarcasm or joking. “What do you mean?”

A smirk crossed Rex’ soft lips, as if you had just asked him why the sky was blue. “Just that you seem a bit nervous, that’s all. I like this thing we’ve got going and I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Rex’ features had a tendency to become soft in your presence. When you first met him and often when he returned from battle, his features were harsh and rough from the stress of the war. But whenever he was around you, they softened a whole lot, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

It was incredible to get to witness him relaxing and being himself around you. It made you feel more relaxed too.

“I want to,” You replied, upon realizing you had spent way too long studying his features, rather than answering his question. “I really do want to. Why else would I have spent all day preparing for this? It’s just…” Suddenly feeling shy, your gaze averted downwards and to the side. You leant in closer to Rex, resting against his chest, though this time without it obstructing your voice while talking. “It’s gonna be my first time and… You’re, well, you. And I’m scared I’m not gonna live up to your expertise or it won’t be any good for you or… I don’t know! My mind starts running and running so fast I can’t keep up and all these scenarios start playing out and most are good but those that aren’t just -”

With a swoop of his hand, Rex had tilted your face upwards again and pressed a kiss against your lips to shut you up. Your own hands rested against his abs, just around the start of his happy trail.

Breaking the kiss far too soon, Rex’ forehead came to rest against yours. His eyes were half lidded and so easy to get lost in. “How about we just take it slow and see where it ends?” He suggested, before planting another kiss on your lips. Straightening back up to stand tall, an adoring smile crossed his lips. “And I promise, there’s no way anything you do won’t feel good for me.”

With that, the two of you suddenly ended up in your bed together. But unlike all the other times before, this wasn’t for sleeping or a cuddle session.

All of your plans had been thrown out the window. Rex suggested you waited with the food till after, same with the wine as he wanted you to be clear headed for this.

You were still fully dressed, while Rex’ towel was hanging on to dear life. Rex was leaning over you, sloppily making out while one hand kept exploring your body. So far, not much out of the ordinary.

Well, other than only a piece of cloth separating you from his member and your exploring hands constantly inching closer to it.

Rex only broke the kiss for a second, so he could take off your top and quickly went back to kissing you.

His calloused, yet surprisingly soft hands began fondling with your breast for a spell, expertly massaging and pinching them, causing you to be the one to break the kiss this time, with a gasp.

Rex used this opportunity to move his sloppy kisses down your neck, as one of his hands simultaneously traveled down towards the apex of your legs.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, or if it becomes too much.” He murmured against your skin, the vibrations traveling through your body and forced a pathetic whine out of you, as a response.

Upon making contact with your most private area, Rex found that much to his surprise, you were soaked. Beyond sloppy-makeout-session soaked. And as his finger made contact with your throbbing, sensitive clit, your hips instantly buckled against his hand, while your head threw back in a moan.

Rex broke the attack on your neck, so he could look you in the eyes, as he asked: “How long have you been turned on?” His eyes were dark with lust, his tone bordering between being genuine and being playful.

You gave up your attempt to explore his body, in order to hide the shame on your face. Not accepting this, Rex quickly brushed your hands away and pressed his forehead against yours, forcing you to look at him. All the while, his finger did not stop its teasing of your clit, causing pathetically low moans to escape your lips.

“Answer me, mesh’la.” Rex ordered, his voice commanding yet endearing.

“I, ah… I don’t know? Been thinking ‘bout this all dayhhh… But seeing you, in the shower, def - kark - definitely did something to me.”

“You’ve been thinking about me all day? Tell me about them,” Rex egged you on, one of his digits now teasing your entrance while his thumb continued its ruthless pace on your clit.

Speaking was getting harder, while your vision was starting to blur and this knot began tightening in your solar plexus. One hand grabbed tightly onto Rex’ bicep, while the other found its way past the very loose hanging towel and down to hold his cock. You weren’t sure where this new confidence came from, as you had never had contact with another person's genitals.

The throbbing would probably have freak you out, if it wasn’t for Rex’ finger curling into you, while he moaned - the sexiest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure to hear. The thing that was going to tip you over the edge.

Your grip on Rex’ bicep tightened, nails digging into his tan skin, while your other hand began pumping his cock, moving completely on its own accord. “Ka-ark, Rex….” You moaned, your hips thrusting into his palm, as the knot in your stomach snapped and a huge wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you.

Rex moaned praises into your ear, as his hips began thrusting into your hand. He was struggling himself, the feeling of your hand around his cock, while you were moaning his name, made it hard for him not to just cum right then and there.

But he wouldn’t be a very good soldier - much less captain - if he broke that easy. So when you came down from your high, Rex pulled away.

Confused, you pushed yourself up on your elbows, so you could look at the soldier who had by now moved on to pull your pants and underwear off.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, slight panic filling you at the sudden retrieval on his part.

Chuckling, Rex replied: “No, not at all, mesh’la. On the contrary, your hand felt so good, I needed to know what the real deal feels like. That is, if you’re alright with it?” He tested, fingers already gripping the band of your pants and ready to pull.

How could you say no? The way he was looking up at you, all hopeful and loving, like you were a goddess and he was awaiting your blessing. Besides, if he could make you feel this good with just his fingers, you could barely imagine how the real deal would feel.

You nodded at him, the grip he already had on your heart tightening furthermore. “Yes, I’m alright with it.” You said out loud, knowing he wouldn’t accept just a nod for a reply.

In a swift motion, the soldier had completely undressed you. His gaze wandered over your nude form, admiration mixed with lust all in one look.

“Beautiful,” he said breathlessly.

Feeling rather shy under his adoring gaze, you tried to somewhat cover your body with your arms, only to have Rex instantly pushing them away again.

“Don’t,” he encouraged, looking lovingly into your eyes. “You’re more beautiful than I ever dreamt about.”

“You dream of me?” You asked, surprised at this new insight.

“All the time, mesh’la.” Rex replied, leaning back over you to bruise your lips with a few more kisses. “You have become a permanent occupant in my thoughts, giving me something other than the Republic and my brothers to fight for.” Rex continued the kisses down your neck, marking you as his with a small bite.

You weren’t sure if the noise you made was a moan or a sob, but it was something in between. How could he say such wonderful, loving things to you, all the while attacking your neck and grinding against your sex.

At last, Rex sat up again, using both his hand and cock to gather as much of your slick as possible. Then, he paused for a moment. “Are you…?” He began, unsure how to properly ask.

“I am,” you replied as if you had read his thoughts - or maybe just his face. “And are you…?”

“Had my checkups before coming planetside, perfect health all around.” Rex replied, reading your mind on the subject.

The fact that neither of you even had to finish your sentences, that the other part just instantly knew what you meant, furthered your belief that this was the right man for you.

“Then let’s do this.”

Rex did not need to be told twice. He lined himself up with your entrance, the tip barely pushing in. 

“Just relax mesh’la and tell me if it becomes too painful, okay?” Rex’ eyes found yours and the lust was temporarily swapped with worry. This wasn’t his first time being someone's first, and he knew the more nervous they were, the more uncomfortable it would be for both parts. And that was the last thing he wanted for you.

It felt like you were about to cry from happiness. He was so considerate, so amazing. You couldn’t find a better man. “I promise.”

Even though you tried your best to just relax, the intrusion of the head and the sudden stretch was a lot. Rex seemingly quickly picked up on this, as he closed the space between your bodies without pushing any further in. 

His hand began stroking your cheek, as he placed small kisses on your lips, your nose, your forehead and eyelids. It worked, as you melted into his touch and began relaxing again. This gave him room to continue.

“You’re doing great, you feel so good, you’re so amazing, I love you,” these and many other things were whispered into your ear, praising you as you took more and more of him. 

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing to somehow feel even closer to him. One hand found home on the nape of his neck, while the other held onto his shoulder. Tears pricked your eyes at the stretch, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was a pleasant burn and Rex made sure to take it slow, so you could adjust.

It felt like he was deeper in than possible, when he suddenly stopped. You moved your hands, so you could look him in the eyes. “Is it all the way in? It feels so big.”

Rex gave you an adoring smile, then adjusted himself so you could look down at where your bodies connected. “It’s a bit more than half. I’ll let you get used to it, then slowly start thrusting. It’s gonna make it easier to go deeper and feel better for the both of us. Is that okay?”

“Is it okay with you?”

The answer was within the question and Rex knew it. You were okay with it as long as he was. Just the same for him. So instead of giving a verbal response, he began kissing you. No matter how many times you had felt those soft lips on your own, you would never tire of the feeling. 

He slowly began thrusting and the feeling was beyond anything you had ever experienced. The stories you’ve heard of others, the feeling of fingers and all that was nothing compared to the real deal. You felt so full, so complete in the most incredible way.

Your nails dug into his scarred back, you had to break the kiss in order to moan, your hips began meeting his half way through on their own accord. And when he started going faster, his name left your lips with each exhale.

Something about the way his balls were hitting your ass with each thrust filled you with pride. He was all the way in. And the fact that he also had to stop his kisses in order to moan - to grunt! Oh it was the most amazing sound you had ever heard. It made your body swell with pride.

No, not the pride. Something else. Something better.

It was like every nerve in your body had become ignited with pleasure. Like all of the force, the stars, everything good had connected inside your body and was begging to be released. 

All of your muscles tightened, your vision blurred as your mouth was stuck in this ‘O’ shape. Wave after wave washed over you, cleansing you from your anxieties and troubles. Never had you ever imagined a feeling this good. Never had you thought it was possible.

Rex seemed to be just as lost in pleasure, as he kept muttering something under his breath, something you couldn’t understand, while his thrust became faster and more shallow.

Just as you were at your peak, at the moment you thought it was impossible to feel even better, you were proven wrong. Ribbons of seed spilled into you, painting your insides white and it made you reach a new high, a new sensation of indescribable pleasure.

Rex collapsed onto you, all of his energy sucked out with his cum. He was sweating, panting, and completely exhausted. This soldier who could run for miles, climb impossible mountains and fight for his life without losing his breath. But this… You. You managed to exhaust him. 

Not that you were in a much better state, but you at least had the excuse of being a civilian.

After catching your breath, you finally regained control over your own limbs. Weakly, you slapped the soldier on the side of his arm.

“Ow, what was that for?” 

“Why have you never told sex feels this good?”

Chuckling, Rex replied: “I’ll let you know next time.”

Dividers by: Unknown, @lornaka @freesia-writes and @djarrex

Taglist: @zoeykallus @rain-on-kamino @ashotofspotchka @chxpsi @maulsrightleg @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @wildmoonflower @nunanuggets @lokigirlszendaya @wholesuhmsstuff @pb-jellybeans @dangraccoon

LMK if you want to be added to the taglist (✿◡‿◡)

[2023himbotournament]

CONTACT YOUR GOVERNMENT AND DEMAND A CEASEFIRE FOR PALESTINE

For Eu look up:

Voices in Europe for peace

For Usa look up:

US campaign for Palestinian rights

BOYCOTT FOR PALESTINE

FOA (Friends of Al-Aqsa) have organized a boycott in support of palestine. Here are the key companies to boycott:

HP (Hewlett Packard)

Coca-Cola

Israeli produce

We will be ending our call to boycott

PUMA once the contract with IFA officially dissolves in 2024. Until then, we encourage you to continue boycotting PUMA products.

Please help to spread the word by sending this copypasta to as many blogs as you can and/or going to FOAs website where you can find posters to download and print out

Ok I'm not a copypasta person unless it's memes but like. Look I'm not Palestinian but I'm also a Southwest Asian and my mental health has definitely deteriorated seeing just. Everything. Especially the increase in racism and islamophobia (I'm also muslim) and seeing all the hate crimes and knowing that someone could probably shoot me in the head while I'm writing gay fanfiction in public and justify it by saying that I could've been a dangerous terrorist and therefore my entire family tree must be eradicated-

basically what I'm trying to say is that I'm hoping that making this post on the himbo tourney blog will get some eyes on this. Like. I've been feeling really powerless about this and kinda just like shriveling up and dying lately. Tbh. The world is fxcked right now. In the year of our lord 2024 /ref, here we are post undertale we are being pro-genocide how funny is that haha. It's not funny. It's. It's not. It's not funny . I can't. I've seen too many videos of children dying and crying and I just. I saw the one thing about the kid with cerebral palsy whose parents got shot right in front of them for literally no reason and then they got yelled at by soldiers and like. People literally will look at this and call these people animals?? I saw that term get thrown around a lot. It's just disgusting and like.

have people seen the bingo the literal genocide bingo. People are treating this like a joke like. Do people not realize that Southwest Asian people are like... people??? We're people you know. Like this is mainly targeting Arabs but I've seen stuff about people discriminating against the rest of us too (mainly because they can't tell the difference. Because the idea of not treating Asian cultures as interchangeable applies until you get to Southwest Asia I guess even in progressive circles everyone just says Arab for everything even here I've seen people like-). I'm Persian and I'm still scared someone will cut my life off. I'm 16. Nowruz is next week and I just want to live to it with my family. My mind is inundated wit the tears of the families that had never gotten to have their celebrations. Because of one group on one day.

one group on one day. One group on one day. it's always that. it's always that for people like us.I feel like I'm going insane. It's just 9/11 in America all over again. I wasn't even born for that. But you can just feel it all around you. And now we have the sequel, across the world. But it's used the same way. 7/23. Can't wait for the memes /s. This one thing happens therefore we can dedicate multiple months to killing all of you just making you suffer stripping your dignity you don't deserve anything and we'll make the world hate you because fxck you and then the world goes along with it because nothing good ever happens and I just want to escape from this but every time I go on tumblr it's just this and I know if I ever stop seeing this it means that the worst has happened anyway

and then people try to act like YOU'RE the bigot because you're trying to hold a country's government and military force responsible for war crimes just because the country has its branding in minority groups. How about I make this crystal clear: I don't give a flying fxck about what Israel is, it's what it's doing that matters. I'd be saying nearly the same shzt if they were PERSIAN, and that is MY ETHNICITY. I literally do not care. It doesn't matter. Because killing people is wrong and that should not be a controversial statement but I guess some people like the sound of screams in the morning. The Palestinian death toll has surpassed the 7/23 death toll. And it's still going. And not all the deaths have even been accounted for because bodies are still buried under rubble. Because they're still bombing people and they won't stop. And no one will make them stop.

like I don't give a fxck about Hamas either, I heard some of the members did genuinely say some like directly quoted antisemitic shzt and also they like condoned a racist caricature of a black woman in a magazine I think but I'm not sure about the second one (I know the magazine thing definitely happened but I'm not sure of their like involvement at all-) like. I don't need to suck there dzcks like some people do it's one group of fxcks like I don't. They're just the excuse being used for this. You're bombing the entire population of a country where the majority population is fzcking tater tots. You're attacking children. You are killing children. Paint yourself purple. Dammit. Just. Again it's 9/11 all over again but in another country.

even then like it's like. You know that trope in cartoons that shows up more often than you'd think that was in like Avatar and Korra and RWBY I think where there's like a fictional minority that is oppressed and wants rights and then active protest is represented by an evil terrorist group who attacks people and is the villains of the media and passive protest is always portrayed as good and active protest is evil and there's no nuance and also they just frame the group as just like evil spawned out of nowhere not addressing that they literally would not exist if not for the truly evil system of oppression that basically created them. Like.

You know Hamas only exists because Palestinians were already treated like shzt right? Like they were already displaced and didn't consent to the whole Israel thing and like look up Nakba it's fzcking awful like. Hamas is just a symptom of the disease and there will just be another Hamas if you try to knock it down without actually like. Doing anything about. the fact that Palestinians are oppressed. but people will just act like you can keep punching at Hamas like that'll result in anything like they're the flowers not the roots y'know-

also I'm calling it here, this entire thing is gonna definitely be used down the line by Neo-nazis I mean it kinda already is being used to justify antisemitism but like I saw the stuff of people trying to redefine antisemitism to be synonymous with antizionism and make isrseli and jewish synonymous and to basically gatekeep jewishness from anti-zionist jews (I'm not kidding I actually saw shzt like that) and it's like. Y'all they're gonna turn around in a year or two like "ohhh look at the big bad scary jews- I mean Israelis their identity is literally tied to the genocide of Palestinians they are inherently evil there is no denying it!" (Ignoring the fact that the USA and other bastards of colonization did the same shzt as Israel literally the same story history is repeating itself but we have social media brands this time-). And then like what the fxck do you do about it when the word antisemitic now means anticolonialist so no one takes it seriously anymore. What the fxck are you supposed to do about that. And when they probably made themselves right because they probably contributed to Palestinian Genocide themselves they don't care they're just using them as props in their fxcking jew hatred. But like. Yeah you are now tied to this nationality that is tied to fxcking genocide what do you do? It's like perfect to use for fearmongering around Jewish people since the shzt they used before somehow worked despite literally being pulled out of their xss istg like where the fxck did any of the bank stuff come from like. The fzck?-

im tired. I'm so tired. Both in the literal "It's past 1am" sense and the less literal "make the stop" sense.

I just don't want people to die. I just want people to be happy. I just want people to not suffer but every day it feels like it's getting worse and I just want something to change for the better and I'm scared. Why do people act like it's a bad thing to not want people to suffer? I don't understand. I just. I just don't understand. I. am I naive? For this?

does this wish make me naive?

[princessfbi]

Fic Author Self Rec

Tagged by the wonderful @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels ❤️😘

I think I'll start with...

Kink Club AU 

Where Buck and Eddie first meet at a kink club before the firehouse! This one was wild because it was an idea I had randomly while driving around. Then I let it sit for like a month or so before I tackled it. It's such an important fic for me too because I think it really taught me the value of my own boundaries? So not only is it emotional and spicy but it taught me something.

Buckley Bookshop AU

Ok but I LOVE this AU so much. I was a little nervous because it was Madney and I don't write their meet cute often just because I love them but I think it came out really well. It felt great getting to explore the dynamic of Doug and Maddie with Buck being such a prevalent variable to their relationship and it's maybe some of my best whump. Also Buckley Siblings. You all know this and getting to write an AU where Maddie is Buck's primary guardian was just 🤌🏻 BUT BUT BUT ALSO...... I LOVED LOVED LOVED getting to write teenage Eddie, Buck, and Taylor. I have a whole head full of HCs for that trouble trio.

Falling Slowly; Sing Your Melody (I’ll Sing It Loud) 

Tortured Musician Buck my beloved. I'm sure I've probably bored everyone with how much I loved writing this fic but I LOVED WRITING THIS FIC. It would keep me up at night and literally wake me up from a dead sleep so I could keep writing. I cried when I finished writing it. I loved getting write Buck's vulnerability and creativity. Also the music. I will convert all of you into liking my music.

00Q!Buddie AU

I wrote that first one not thinking I'd go on to write a whole ass prequel and a possible planned sequel but here we are! I'm going to say: I crushed the smutty parts of this AU. It's maybe some of my best. I loved getting to explore smart Buck and the broody, darker side of Eddie while also showing just how much capacity he has to love some one.

I Don't Mind Waiting (If It's For You)

Trashy romance murder mystery novel AU my beloved. I wrote this while being stuck inside for four days during a blizzard in February and I was having such a fun time. The whole thing consumed by brain. I don't even really remember how I got the idea for it but I'm so glad I did.

I'm going to tag @homerforsure @bigfootsmom @mellaithwen @rogerzsteven @like-the-rest-of-la (fic and art count cus I say so) and @lovebuck