#anyways i was cutting ties left and right with people for no fucking reason back then so um…

[pollenallergie]

ignore everything i said back in late may/early june. i was hypomanic and, consequently, unreasonably angry for most of that time. 👍👍👍

[grippingbeskar]

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

[spctrsgf]

to his office

prompt #351 from @/lyralit: 

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You’re very welcome to do it.”

word count: 3.8k

warnings: spidey!reader (tried to make it gn, lmk if i messed anything up!), language, my shitty spanish, innuendos but no actual sex

a/n: i saw atsv and miguel was SO SCRUMPTIOUS i had to write this

“HOBIE!” You yell at the aforementioned Brit, narrowly missing a chunk of some building that is being thrown at you. “I bloody know!” He yells back, swinging from the building next to you.

You nudge your head to the left as a signal to him, releasing a quick whip of web to maneuver behind a rough, brick building to land on the side of it. Hobie wasn’t too far behind, and Gwen was soon to your left as well. The three of you heave in heavy breaths, synchronous in your silence. The inevitable stomp of the angry anomaly of the week roams in search of the very people next to you as well as yourself. 

“She just does not give up, does she?” Hobie quips, filling the silence.

“Well,” Gwen adds. “We did make her angry.”

“We? You were the one who threw a brick at her, mate.”

“And who’s idea was it to do that?”

“It was a bloody joke!”

“It didn’t sound like it–”

“Okay!” You exclaim, cutting their childish argument in half. “Enough. Back to defeating the Wannabe Crab woman, okay?”

“Right,” Hobie answers, quick to drop his anger like usual. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“We gotta trap him somewhere, but this fucking city is endless. It’ll take forever.”

“I think we gotta get her hands tied,” Pavitr says from above, nearly desticking Gwen from the brick wall in surprise. “That’s where the power is, right?”

“Jeez, Pav,” You yelp, coming down from your initial shock. “We didn’t see ya there.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, but seriously. I think we gotta tie her hands!”

“He’s right, that would solve all the cement throwing we got going on.” Hobie agrees, shifting to lean on the windowsill next to him.

You tilt your head. “Do ya think webs’ll be strong enough for that one?”

“Ours? Nah.” 

“True, but Miguel’s would do us a solid right now with all this.” Pav interjects.

“He’s right. We need those ever so strong webs your boyfriend has to do the job.” Gwen nudges you with her shoulder.

Your cheeks flame, and you’re eternally grateful for the silky mask you have on. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Gwen! We’re not– he doesn’t– oh my god,” You pinch the bridge of your nose as best you can through the mask. “Back on topic!”

“Seriously,” Hobie nods. “You should ask the lad to help us out.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

All you get is a shrug from him.

“Or you, Gwen? Or Pav?”

They all give you a look, a look that tells you exactly what they’re thinking.

“No. Oh my god, guys! Seriously? He doesn’t like hearing from me, anyways.”

That’s true, you firmly believe it, and you have ever since you first got to Nueva York. Being the person you are, you originally doted around the idea of talking to him, of engaging in a conversation. But, to be frank, he scared you shitless. He towered over your stature, a whopping 6’9” to your pacifying build. But, somehow you found yourself standing next to a nonchalant Hobie, watching his floating platform float impossibly slow towards the two of you after a mission. 

He’d been… you could tell right away that Miguel wasn’t the type of person to sugar coat nor was he very good at hiding the emotions that flew across his face, because oh my you felt it. You felt the trail of his scarlet gaze as he took in his first impression, you felt the razor sharp cut of disgust, felt the way his tongue ran along his accentuated canines as you rambled through your report. 

He’d dismissed you as quickly as humanly possible, opting to talk to the laid back Brit, the one who didn’t have to clear his voice every few sentences. Maybe it was a force of habit, you’d tried to reason as your head bowed to scurry out of the room. He has been working with Hobie longer, there has to be an ease between them. 

But, as time passed, Miguel remained the same. He tossed you a cold shoulder, and seemed to avoid your presence unless needed. You tried to shrug it off, to pretend like it didn’t hurt you as much as it did, but it was hard to pretend when the sting of rejection slapped as soon as he was brought up. Which actually happened a lot. 

You weren’t sure where Gwen had gotten boyfriend from that. Sure, you thought he was attractive. It was hard not to with his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to his (slutty) waist. There was something about his fangs that intrigued you, it was something you’d never seen before. And it wasn’t just the appearance that did it for you: it was that under all the anger and the rough exterior and the mask was a man, vulnerable and caring and wanting to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else.

He might be blunt and mean and pushy and all those things, but he came from a truly caring place, from a want to help. You could see that shine through in the way Gwen and Hobie and even Lyla talked about him, and you could see that in the mission notes he writes and in the slim amount of time that you were graced with his presence. 

“That’s why.” Gwen’s voice shakes you clear of the memories. 

“Wha?” You blink incredulously at her, like that would somehow shock you into understanding her sentence. 

She shoves your wrist, which hovers in front of you with the button to call Miguel in a booming orange. “Call him.”

You glare at her, but all that earns you is a tilt of the head and a not-so-encouraging punch from Pav. “Fine! Fine.”

You take a deep breath before hitting the call button. It sends off some sort of interdimensional wave towards Nueva York, and you buzz with a different type of frequency, suddenly nervous. The Miguel effect. Your brain blurts. Always nervous. You sigh and remind yourself that there are three other spiderpeople next to you as the call goes through, and Miguel’s face pops up unceremoniously in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Uh, well, you see–” You start, only to be rudely cut off by his attitude. “Get to the point. I don’t have all day.”

The blunt words don’t roll off your back like normal, maybe it was because you could hear the anomaly pound, inching closer. “We need help. We need your webs, they’re stronger and can hold this guy’s claws together. He’s been tearing up the city.”

“You’re supposed to be containing the threat, not me.”

“Miguel, if you don’t get your fucking ass over here right now, all four of us are gonna be dead.”

“Doubt it.” He sounds distracted, like he was observing something else in front of him.

“Seriously? You can’t take two seconDS..!” You cut yourself off to launch off the building as the anomaly slams her fist into the spot you were rested at just a few seconds before. 

You go to follow your partners in chasing the monster away from the buildings, to yell at the stubborn man currently still on call from the watch encircling your wrist, but your spidey senses perk up and then you’re swinging back towards the anomaly. Your eyes train on a woman, not much older than thirty, running for her life from the gnarly creature above her.

You don’t think. Normally, you’re all about thinking and finding the best course of action to try and save everyone, but you don’t now. Not when you’re so short on time, not when that woman could die. You dive, holding your arms out as you beeline to the poor woman. Her face turns from fear to relief when she sees you, reaching out to grab your hand as you scoop your arm around her waist and carry her to the nearest roof.

You’re off before she can say a word, and the glance back you lend her tells you that she knows exactly why you couldn't linger and conveys the thank you she couldn’t say to your face. It fuels you, and you move quickly, pulling the anomaly farther and farther from the people. “Are you a quiet one, huh?” The anomaly’s voice is low and gravelly. “I’m always up for a little banter.” You shoot back, taking a quick left to navigate to where you see your partners waiting, hidden and ready to attack. 

“Alrighty then, let’s banter!”

“Let’s.”

“Are you expecting me to now spew out my whole plan and sob story, cus it ain’t happening.”

You shrugged. “Nah. Most of you don’t anyway.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” You shake your head, coming to a stop. “We usually have you caught by that time.”

Right on cue, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie shoot webs out, attempting to contain the anomaly. You realize, as you're adding your own webs to the mix, that Miguel must’ve hung up the phone during your little fright. “What happened with the boss? We getting that bloody help we need?” Hobie calls out, tightening his grip. “Dunno!” You call back. “Maybe he hung up.”

“Call him back, eh?”

“I- I can’t! This is harder than it looks.”

“We know!” Gwen screeches, voice strained.

“What do we do, guys?” 

“Try and hold on.” Pav’s voice is uncharacteristically dim, lacking its normal cheer.

His tone sinks into your stomach. “What if we don’t–” 

“You will,” Miguel’s voice crackles from your wrist. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Uh–” You risk a look around as the anomaly struggles with a scream. “Open field. I can see an ocean from here, and there’s mountains to my right. Actually, I think it’s a river– we’re at a bend in it.”

“Got it. I know where you are, I’ll be there in a minute tops. Stay on the phone with me, okay?” 

“Will do.”

“He won’t be here in time.” You look up at the anomaly, her deep green eyes locked unsettlingly with yours. She yanks hard this time, and you see Gwen nearly topple and Hobie’s footing slip slightly, giving her arms more wiggle room. “Yes he will.” Your jaw sets as you shoot another web to wrap around her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees.

“You’ll lose. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Spiderman. Losing.”

“Crazy? Yeah, cus it won’t happen.” Gwen grunts from above, struggling to keep a clean facade.

“I’m almost there, cariño, hold on.”

“I am, we’re fine–”

And then you’re not. Because the anomaly bursts up in a spur of movement, effectively breaking the confinement you four had put on her. She runs forward, taking a straight track for you. You leap up, swinging away as quickly as you can. You pick through the strain on your forearms, through the cloud of fear in your head. You try to stay in the same general area you told him you’d be in, but it’s hard with the anomaly on your heels. 

“Miguel! Help, she’s chasing me, I can only keep her away from me for so long–”

“I know, I know, I’m coming. Hold on.”

But you’re not responding anymore. The anomaly swings a mighty claw straight into your abdomen, effectively sending you into the ground. Pav lets out a scream, sliding to catch you before you can slam into the grass, and Miguel knows something is wrong. You can hear his yells and Pav’s telling you to respond, but the pain in your side is excruciating and your brain feels like mush and your mouth is dry like sandpaper and your vision is tunneling into black and you try to speak but–

…

It’s very dark.

That’s the first thing you notice when you come to. It’s nice. But there’s an off putting feeling about it, like something’s lurking in the dark, and then you’re itching to turn on the lights so you can see something. “You have something covering your eyes, you do realize that.” Miguel’s smooth tone slides in from the left, decorating across the bland abyss.

Ah. So that was the problem.

Your arms feel foreign as you reach up to pull the fabric off your eyes, exposing you to the room you were in, only slightly brighter than before. “Lyla said the mask was supposed to help you heal better,” Miguel starts, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look at the man next to you quite yet. “I listened, she’s better at this than I am.”

“Am I not in the infirmary?” You question, before frowning at the way your voice sounded. You sit up, clearing it a few times.

“You were, but I moved you.” 

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you in there.” He answered bluntly, yet it lacked any substance at all.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You chuckled dryly. “Miguel, you moved me from the fucking infirmary to your office. I think you owe me a damn explanation.”

“No.” He turns away, slinging a web out to launch him onto his floating platform.

“Miguel–” 

“No.” The orange screens encircle him, effectively slamming his hard tone into the flow of conversation that wasn’t really flowing anymore.

You frown, half sat up in the bed that he’d placed you on. You’re frustrated, you don’t understand what’s been going on between you and him. He hated you. You’d previously established that, his vibrant reaction to your question confirmed it. But he saved you. And he moved you into his fucking office. 

Your head swims with this new information, and you flop back down unceremoniously onto the bed. Your head tilts automatically to him again, the fiery red in the bleak, monotone room. His back is to you, and he’s furiously tapping at something on one of his many screens. The boldness of his stature, the way he’s standing is so unwelcoming that you’re now sure he never really wanted you there at all.

You sit up and hop out of the bed as quietly as you can, even though you know he can probably hear you in the silence that enveloped you both. Yet he doesn’t react, he doesn’t turn and yell like you thought he might. He stayed stoically and almost stubbornly facing his screens, so you turn and slip towards the door.

Fucking say something, Miguel.

He doesn’t. You don’t know what you expected anyways. 

So you continue your walk, your path out of noose that the room brought. Yet, steps to the hallway seem harder and harder to make, like the hallway is getting longer or maybe you’re moving a lot slower than you normally do. You move to shoot a web, hoping to gain traction and move somewhat faster, but you can’t quite get your aim right– 

And then your vision is fluctuating and you start to feel unbalanced. You’re not moving. You’re moving your feet, but you’re not going anywhere. Your brain is fuzzy and the ground is getting closer than it normally is- you don’t remember being this short? “Ay, cariño!” Is exclaimed from behind you, and then something’s grabbing onto your back and pulling you back upright.

Miguel has his arm wrapped around your waist as you wobble, guiding you back to the bed and then lifting you up to sit on it. Your hands come up to rub your eyes, trying to get them to refocus. They blur and then unblur, finally resting to take in your wobbly hands, which are held out shakily in front of you. In response, you twist your hands together just enough to feel the pain of it, reminding you that you were in fact awake and aware. 

“Are you okay?” It’s then that you realize that Miguel is still in front of you. He’s got you caged in, blanketing you in his grand shadow. Your neck cranes up to reach his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let your eyes linger during their ascent. When you meet the scarlet of his irises, you’re taken aback by the level of concern in them. Like he was actually worried about you. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, tilting your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He scoffed, but didn’t move away. “I’m not worrying.”

“If there’s one thing you’re bad at, Miguel, it’s lying.”

“I am a great liar.”

“Oh?” 

“Dios mio, cariño, yes.”

“What does that mean, anyway?,” You question, rocking backward to tuck your feet underneath your legs. “I tried to get Lyla to tell me, but she will not let the secret loose.”

He freezes. “Nothing, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“You do realize I can just search it up, right? Would you rather me find out from the reach of the internet?”

“Not really, what if you just don’t–”

“Miguel.” You rise onto your knees, leveling your gaze with his own and resting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re saying you’re in love with me or something.”

“Well–”

“Right, cus that would be like…” Your words tumble over him, your brain too keen on keeping your feelings, your delusions to yourself. “Te amo? Te quiero? I’m not sure…”

“Either one.”

“Yeah, so it’s not one of those, so what is it?”

He takes a deep breath, looking slightly troubled. His face twists his face up like he’d just bit into a lemon, and then you’re panicking again.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that–”

“It’s a term of endearment,” His voice stops your apologies in their tracks. “It literally means affection, but when you use it as a nickname it’s more like sweetheart or darling. Dear is another way to say it, but you get the point.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry about that–”

“Don’t be,” Your head tilts with his, following the way he turns his gaze away from you in embarrassment. “I like it.”

He meets your eyes again, curiosity and hope strung in his vibrant eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. The way you say it is so satisfying, if that makes sense.”

“You like when I speak Spanish, huh?”

You nod, and suddenly you’re the one hiding your face from his smirk. 

“Querido, mírame.”

“Miguel–”

“Ahora. I won’t ask again.”

You sigh, glaring at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn,” He leans down and then innnn, so that the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I know you can do it.”

“Do you?” Your brain is screaming at you, making you even more painfully aware of his proximity to your face, yet you somehow manage to clearly deliver the line. 

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s only cus I’ll have the best teacher. You.” You hit his nose with your finger, catching him off guard.

“I am happy to take that title.” 

“Good.”

He hasn’t moved. Even as the room fades into silence, he hasn’t moved. He’s still so close, like you could lean in, barely four inches, and you’d be kissing him. You can smell him, a tinge of metallic blood yet so earthy and centering. It’s intoxicating: your brain is swimming and you're struggling to keep your head above the water. 

Cariño. Sweetheart. A term of endearment. You still haven’t quite wrapped your head around that, not that you’ve been given much time to mull over it. Was that him telling you that he liked you, more than a friend? Was that a normal thing, using that term? You didn’t know, but you had a feeling that would be the best confession from him you were getting, if he meant it that way at all. You were gonna have to make the leap yourself.

“Everything okay?” His hand lands on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that you’d been staring into nothingness for what must’ve been a painfully long time for him. “Yeah,” You stumble to regain your words. “Sorry, I-” 

“Spaced out.”

“Yeah.”

He nods, smiling just enough so you could see his fangs peek out. You were caught.

“Migu–”

“I could kiss you right now, you know that?”

“Huh?” stumbles stupidly out of your now slack jaw.

“I could kiss you. You’ve been staring at my lips for the past few minutes, mi amor, whether you realize it or not.”

“I have? Oh my god.”

He chases your drifting gaze, just like you did with his. “It was cute.”

“Cute is a word I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Cállete, you hear me? Shut up.” 

You giggle, grabbing his hand and sliding it up to fit comfortably on the back of your neck. “You wanna kiss me, O’hara? You’re very welcome to do it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Now he’s leaning in, closing in those four painstaking inches to lock lips with you.

And it’s insane. Showstopping. Any kisses you had before then? Not even a fucking kiss. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first– mainly you, you suppose– but it worked itself out. Miguel must’ve really gotten into it, because once you swear he nipped at your bottom lip with those fangs of his, just hard enough to draw blood. Your hands, in the meantime, explored his mass of brown curls, previously smoothed back but released by your fingers.

His own hands nestled themselves in your hair, tugging on it just enough to draw a sigh out of you. He tastes like blood– surely yours– yet ever so homey. You lean into him inadvertently, so content in the moment. The rational part of your brain reminds you that you’d probably suffocate if you kissed him for much longer, but nothing in you cared very much about that fact at all. 

In the end, it’s him who takes a dip for air, who drags your face off of his reluctantly to gasp softly. You do the same, resting your forehead on his toned chest. His hand, still in your hair, guides you gently back up, just so he can absorb your appearance and vice versa. It’s crazy, taking him in like this. He looks so out of control, his hair disheveled and his lips puffy and his cheeks red, releasing air in quick puff puffs. You’re sure you’re not much better looking.

“Out of breath already?” He says, head tilted with a goofy sort of grin adorning his face. “I’m regaining it currently, don’t tease.” You puff back at him, dropping your head back onto his chest.

“Oh, but teasing you is the best part.”

You stab a finger into his side. “Be quiet.”

“If you fare like this, mi alma, you won’t last very long where we’re headed.”

Your head whips up, equal parts confusion and frustration. “First of all, I’m fine. Second of all, what?”

“C’mon.” he pulls you off the bed.

“Are we sure I can even–”

His arm is around your shoulders, hand clamped tightly around it to squeeze you reassuringly. “I got you.”

“Thanks.” Your smile towards him is mushy, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care.

“De nada,” He smiles back, and you mentally note to tease him about his softness later on. “Let’s get all the way to home plate, huh?”

“Let’s.”

feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, everyone, before i run out of ideas

[wifey-ohara]

ok ok I got an idea

what if Miguel ohara found an orphan who was a spider and decided to raise her🥺

I love this sm🥺🥺🥺

Under my wing

Fatherfigure! miguel&spidy!teen!Fem! Reader

Notes: some angst at the start but the rest is fluffy, good dad miguel, distrustfull reader at first, road trip writing, hcs and drabbles, can you tell i can't write good father figures? That's bc mine doesn't like emotional support:) not proof read

💙Miguel was fighting off an anomaly with some other spider people, shouting orders left and right, when he ordered some feral-looking spider and she went exactly against his order which he was gonna follow them, save her and then scold her about being reckless

🩵but then he noticed that that specific spider was not from his team

💙he saw her swing forward, hit the anomaly with both legs, knocking it off it's feet, and he took that chance and tied it up with webs

🩵she did a couple flips and landed, looked back, and miguel could feel her intense stare at him

💙he was about to call out for her, and maybe even invite her to the spider society

🩵With a roll of your eyes and a "tsk" you jumped forward, swinging away

💙when miguel returned, he searched up your earth and information about you

🩵he found out that you only a teenager living a double-life, been bitten by a spider as a child, and that your parents were your canon and that you're alone in there

💙so he visits your earth a lot to check on you

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

~you said goodbye to your friend and watched them disappear from your sight, leaving you with that uncomfortable feeling of eyes on you, you felt this way alot ever since those many spiders appeared the other day

With a sigh you walked over the little abandoned apartment complex you lived in, put your back pack there and put on your spider suit to patrol the streets

Miguel on the other hand, he only got more protective of you and needing to keep you safe as he watched from afar

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

🩵you didn't see miguel again until another gaint anomaly destroyed your home

💙you were just taking the sight in, the rubble, the dust, the destruction, another home crumbling before your own eyes, and again you couldn't save it, so you just stared at it, thinking what stuff of yours survived,probably none

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

You sighed, deeply, then, your spidey senses were ringing in your head, you turned around, ready to fight whoever it is, pulling down your mask

It was that big spider-man, and you felt uneasy about his stare, but you pulled your mask off anyway

" what" you attacked,no actual violence in your voice, you were so tired, and now even more homeless then before

"you're looking at the apartment complex a little too long" he answered, calm, yet somehow knowing? You hated that

"yeah well i lived there" you rolled your eyes

"it looks abandoned?" he inquired yet teased, you hated the brain games he's playing

"i never said others do, also cut the crap, what do you want" you snapped weakly

"ok" he lifted his forearms in front of him "i noticed that your are most times alone, and homeless as it turns out and i wanted to invite to the spider society" he offered

You were quiet for a moment

"so it was you" you yelled, annoyed "why the fuck were you stalking me like that, was it so hard to

talk to me?"

"no but i need to know you before inviting people into my society" he reasoned

With a scoff you asked "what's this- pfft- i don't know spider group thing?"

"a society from people just like you from other universes, team up and fight off what might be in the way of the smooth running of multi-verse, seeing your circumstances, i think you'd like it" he adviced.

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

🩵And boom! You→in spider society!!

💙you sticked to miguel's side most time, he didn't mind one bit

🩵you'd sit in his office while he works, scrolling on your phone/tablet (or whatever you like) that miguel got you despite you arguing that he didn't have to

💙"I've seen the kids carrying them around, i think its important to y'all or something " he argues,knowing damn well that its a luxury thing

🩵you get him lunch everyday and you two eat it together, talk about stuff and all that father/daughter all that good stuff

💙you two joke around lots too! You'd crack a joke and he'll chuckle and add to it until you're crying laughing

🩵you join him on most missions, its more of you swinging and playing around and helping whenever you can, and he actually fights it off

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

"oh my god!" you yelled when he stopped beside you "are you spider man!?" you asked him, acting like a fan girl who just saw her dream idol

His wide eyes turned into an eye roll at you as he swung away again

You laughed about to get down from the wall you were clinging on, when it broke with some force, knocking you down

A surprised noise tore off your throat as you fell down, you turned around, your back facing the ground, looking for something to web yourself to

On the other hand, miguel felt the life leave his body

He's losing A daughter, again, he couldn't let that happen

He swung to you, wrapping you in red webbing just as you webbed yourself to another building, he pulled you up to him and held you

"are you ok!" he checked frantic, looking you over for the smallest cut

"I'm fine" you smiled "it just caught me off guard "

He sat you both on a surface, gears turning in their head, then he took a deep breath "go back to HQ" he told you, voice gentle

"what? Why!?" you asked, surprised by his offer

"just do what i say.. Please" he pleaded

"alright.." you argeed, releasing his arms as they lowered from your shoulders

Stepping back, clicking a few bottoms on your watch, making a portal appear behind you

"be safe!" you said, before stepping into it

•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•❥•

💙you two didn't talk about that day since

🩵you of course knew about his daughter and past

💙 that day, he acted weird, and you just thought that it was because he had a long day

🩵he became more protective of you, not letting you go to as many missions as before, it annoyed you a bit but you chalked it up to you being reckless and careless and he couldn't have you fucking up missions

💙he'd call you things like "mija" or "niña" yk indearments and cutesy stuff like that

🩵you're so petty most times, and you like to get under his skin so you and lyla gang up on him

💙he doesn't like hobie being around you, but you do, soo that's that..

🩵he teaches you (mostly technology) stuff and answes all your questions

💙after a year and some months, you gave him "the best father" gift card on Father's Day and he went home and cried about it

🩵after that he became even softer (somehow) with you

💙"I'm proud of you"s and "good job kid"s were a reaccuring

🩵he asked to move in with him from the HQ rooms and you agreed, and hugged him

💙he spends more time off now, with you, learning more about you hobbies and interests, cheering you on

🩵you started calling him dad, he teared up the first few times when you did, still warms his heart everytime

💙he helps you with school, and not in a "WHAT'S 5 TIMES 7 while you cry " kinda way lol

🩵he scares off any dating possibilities too

💙if you have a bad day, he'd be a lil sad that you didn't call him first thing, but he'd buy you/make you your favorite food and sits with you and listen to you ramble about it if you want, if not, he'd sit with you on the couch watching a movie

🩵he lets you do wierd things on his face ( "dad they're called face maskes!)

💙he tells you dad jokes ironically, you always roll eyes at him

🩵you're an endless supply of old man jokes ("mija I'm not even that old what the fuck")

💙so yeah,it's happy vibes all around

You guess it, next is probabs platonic hobie

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Presenting...

Starring Suguru Geto in a curseless AU set in the early 2000s.

Synopsis: Neither one of you are quite over your "Relationship" If you could call it that. You had been avoiding him since the breakup for that very reason. He was the last person you ever expected to see at this party.

The wind was bitterly cold. You blew the smoke out of your lungs, watching it swirl into the clouds and praying it would take you with it. You didn't want to be here. You hated parties. You hated this town.

"There you are!" Your friend groaned as she came outside. "God, you're way too good at disappearing. I've been looking for you everywhere." You took a moment to take her in. Her eyes were filled with worry for you, frustration etched into her eyebrows. You hated to admit it, but you liked that she worried. It made you feel loved again. A small smile tugged at your lips. 

"Yep. I'm here. You should have guessed," you chuckled, throwing your cigarette onto the concrete and stomping it out. 

"Come inside," she insisted, "it's freezing out here." She was right. October nights had always been bitter, but tonight had a particular edge to it. You nodded to her as you slipped your hands into your hoodie. 

"I'm coming." 

"Try to look like you don't hate it here" your friend teased, "miserable is not a good look on you." You disagreed. You thought misery was your default. It was glamorous. It was vintage. It was hand tailored for you. At least, that's how it felt these days. Since things had ended. It had only been six months since your relationship failed, but it felt closer to six decades. Suguru’s ghost clung to you, haunted your body and mind. It felt like you were never not thinking about him. You wondered what you’d do if you saw him again.

“Ah, but that's the thing,” you half laughed, “I do hate it here. Frat parties are for people who like other people. And that's not me.”

“While true, they’re also for people who want to get black out drunk and forget their ex, which is you.” Your friend argued. I mean, shit when she was right she was right. The two of you walked back into the party, the music blasting top twenty pop hits into the air and shaking your soul out of your body. You tied your hoodie around your waist, the heat becoming thick faster than you expected it to. Your friend yelled…something you couldn’t decipher into your ear before disappearing into the crowd. Fuck.

 You sighed and made your way through the ocean of college kids, all swaying, making  waves in time with the music. You found your way to the kitchen, mixing yourself a vodka redbull. You drank it far too quickly, made yourself another one, and got about half way through it before you took another breath. You tuned back into the music, just to roll your eyes. Who burned the CD for this party anyway? You were sure this party couldn’t get any worse. Then it did.

You made eye contact with him the moment he walked into the kitchen, looking tired and disinterested. Satoru was going on and on about something inconsequential, you were sure, and Suguru was looking for a drink to help make his best friend bearable. His corpse eyes found a light in them as they connected with yours. You were sure whatever light you may have had left in your eyes faded instantly. You finished your drink. 

“Dude, are you even listening to-..oh.” Satoru cut his own sentence off as he realized what, or rather who his best friend was staring at. Shit. There was a solid five seconds of the three of you just staring at eachother in a fucked up standoff. Each waiting for the other to make a movie while Brittnay sang about genies in the other room. He looked better than you were fully willing to admit, wearing tripp pants and an old Korn tee over a mesh shirt. Your breath felt heavy in your throat. Memories of the last night you saw him exploded in your mind like war flashbacks. The tears, the fighting, the begging. The goodbye. Fuck.

He made a b-line to you and you b-lined to the back door, your closest escape. “Dude, stop!-” You heard Satoru call, no doubt chasing after Suguru. You were thankful for him. He was rarely the rational one between the two of them, but he was normally able to bring Suguru back to earth when he lost his mind. Maybe that was why they worked. You didn't really care to give it much thought anymore honestly.

“Y/n!” you heard your ex call for you. Fuck he sounded close. You could hear the chains on his tripp pants rattle as he made his way to you. You started to run. You hated making a scene but you couldn’t see him. For all the times you wondered what you’d do if you saw him again, running wasn’t ever really one of the options, but you’re here now. You made your way out the back gate and to your car. Your salvation. You picked up the pace, unlocking your car and falling into the seat with a swiftness that shocked even you. You let out a sigh of relief as your car door closed behind you. Finally, safe. You took out your phone to let your friend know you were leaving.

“Y/n!” Suguru called out as he plopped down in your passenger seat, scaring a squeal out of you. What the fuck?!  

“Get out you bastard!” You yelled at him.

“I just want to talk!” He said back, not yelling, but definitely talking louder than he normally did.

“You’ve fucking lost it Geto!” You matched his tone, “This is breaking and entering!”

“I’m pretty sure that only applies to buildings, Gorgeous.” He grinned, and it was so charming you almost forgot you hated him. 

“Don’t call me gorgeous!” You hissed, “I have nothing to say to you!”

“I have so much to say to you though!”

“Too bad, get out of my car!”

“Give me five minutes!”

“No! I’m going home!”

“You can’t drive like this Y/n! You’re drunk.” You started to yell a comeback, but realized you didn’t have one. He was right. You were starting to feel the drinks of the nights, and we're definitely not good to drive. 

“Then I’ll walk home!” You scoffed. And he laughed. He actually had the audacity to laugh. 

“No you won’t.” He chuckled, “You live too far away. Plus, you would never leave your car unattended at a frat party.” He was right again. You hated how well he knew you. “Let me drive you.” He offered.

“No. you’re drunk too.” you scoffed.

“Am not,” He informed you, “I just got here.”

“Then what the fuck compelled you to just…get into my fucking car?” You asked, still flabbergasted by the audacity. The Suguru you knew would never have done that. He fumbled, looking for an answer. Truth was, he didn’t know why he did it either. 

“I miss you Y/n.” was the best he could offer. You sighed, a deep sigh that felt like it was pulled straight out of your sorrow and you threw your head back onto your headrest. You stared at the roof of your car. This was a bad idea. Suguru came with far too many emotions. Wounds that had barely had time to scab over were ripping open in real time, bigger than they ever were before. 

If you were smart, you would have gotten out of the car. You would have found Gojo to have him collect Suguru, and found your friend to have them drive you home. Or at least have them call you a cab. If you were smart, you would have told him to leave you the fuck alone. You would have saved your heart the extra heart break. You would have forced yourself to remember all the fighting that led you to where you were now, the pain, the heartbreak, the neglect. 

But, you weren’t feeling particularly bright that night. And all you could remember was the soft Suguru. The one that held you close at night, and asked before he kissed you. The one that took you out on late night dates in famous cemeteries cause he read it in a romance novel and thought it was just oh so romantic. You sighed and handed him your keys.

He gave a far too enthusiastic Yes! As the two of you changed seats. You settled into the passenger seat, already regretting your decision. You buckled up as he started the car.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, looking at you. You returned the look, though yours was laced with far more annoyance. 

“I’m annoyed.” you respond. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m just saying, food would be nice. Would probably help you avoid a hangover too.” A hangover sounded like a nightmare. Once again, you relented. 

“Fine, but you’re paying.” he grinned.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He said, pulling out to the street. He turned up the radio, a smile spreading across his face as he heard the song. Everlong, by the Foo Fighters. It made you smile too. Suddenly, you weren’t in your car anymore. You were sitting on Toji Zenins couch, nervously fiddling with your hands as he weighed out an ounce of weed. He’d been your plug for a few weeks at that point, but you still hadn’t grown used to his aura. 

You jumped when there was a knock at his door, and he looked just as confused before a realization dawned on him. “Oh, shit. I think I okay-ed two people to come over on accident.” he laughed to himself. “Hope that's okay Y/n.” he said, going to get the door. It wasn’t, you wanted to leave. But, you didn’t say that. Sometimes you wished you did. 

“Heyy! Weedman!” You heard a now familiar, but then utterly unrecognizable voice. “Thanks for covering me on such short no- Oh, hello!” Gojo said as he walked into the living room, seeing you sitting awkwardly on the couch. Suguru was behind him, quietly observing you. He smiled softly, raising his hand in a wave. His long black hair perfectly framed his sculpted face. His kind eyes seemed mismatched with his almost mischievous smile. You couldn't help but be sucked into his orbit. You smiled gently and waved back. 

“Hi.” before you knew it, Suguru was sitting next to you while Gojo rambled about..something. Honestly, he was always rambling about something. You don’t know why you didn’t leave after you got your weed. Maybe it was because Toji offered to smoke with the three of you to apologize for double booking, maybe it was because Geto kept managing to catch your eye. Either way, the two of you hadn’t really spoken, Toji and Satoru speaking enough for both of you. 

Suguru passed a joint to you as Everlong came on the radio. Toji grimace. “Man, this song is shit.” He said, going to turn it off.

“Watch yourself Zenin,” Suguru said, pointing at Toji and stopping him in his tracks. “This songs hot as fuck, disrespect it again and we’re gonna have a problem.” You really liked Sugurus' voice. 

“Chillax man, this songs not worth trippin’ over.” Toji scoffed, “Especially considering it’s not good.”

“I like it.” You said, the weed making you feel bolder than usual. “I really like the Foo Fighters.”

“Not you too Y/n.” Toji groaned, finally stepping away from the stereo. Suguru looked at you and grinned. It made butterflies explode in your stomach.

“I knew you had taste.” He praised. It was the first thing he had ever said to you. 

“Here.” Suguru said, handing you your drink and jerking you off of memory lane. You grabbed the drink and thanked him. You realized the two of you were parked now. You looked at the burger he handed you and smiled. 

“You remember my order.” You commented. He scoffed as if that was almost insulting.

“Of course I do. I remember everything about you.” He muttered. The two of you started to eat, a pregnant silence filling the car. That pregnant silence, then gave birth to many other smaller but just as intense silences. Blink 182 played softly in the background, but no matter how many times Mark Hoppus asked what his age was, it didn’t cut through the awkwardness in that car. 

“Look, Y/n, I know I-” Suguru started. Rage and despair welled up inside of you.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Geto.” You said very bluntly, finishing your fries. 

“But I-” he started, but cut himself off. He didn’t want to push his already unbelievable luck. But someone had to say something. He smiled softly to himself. “Hey, do you remember when the Red Hot Chili Peppers dropped By The Way-”

“Album or song?” You cut him off to ask.

“Album,” He clarified, “And we raided 7/11 and drove around all night, listening to it on repeat.” You laughed because you did remember that. You remembered it like it was yesterday. You could still taste the blue slushy on your tongue as you tried desperately to analyze lyrics while Suguru insisted The Red Hot Chili Peppers were not the kinda band you analyze the lyrics too, they’re the band you get high to. 

Still, you remembered getting goosebumps the first time you heard Midnights, the opening verse of “Things will never be the same/Still I'm awfully glad I came/Resonating in the shape of things to come/Never waiting when I know there's only one” Speaking to your soul in ways you didn’t quite understand then, but felt like you did now. 

“Yea, I remember,” You giggled, “I think there's still a stain on my seat from you getting mustard on it.” You said, searching for said blemish, “Yea! There it is, right there!” The permanent mark he left in your car. 

“Hey, it is not my fault that you can't eat 7/11 hot dogs without mustard.” He laughed.

“No, but it is your fault you couldn't keep it on your dog, you dog!” You teased.

“I blame Anthony Kiedis.” He grinned with a shrug. This was nice. This felt like old times. This felt like the moments where he was actually him. 

“I think that album’s still in my car.” you muttered. 

One whirlwind later and you were getting slurpees at 7/11, the cashier looking at the two of you with disdain as you laughed and made a mess of the machine he just cleaned. Blue for you, red for him, just like it had always been. Suguru had to grab sour gummy worms and twizzlers. He still couldn’t leave a convenience store without them. He didn’t even like twizzlers, not really. It just ‘felt right’ to grab them. Whatever that means.

You were looking through your CD case when suddenly, he stopped you.

“We got to listen to a different album.” He said out of nowhere.

“What?” You scoffed.

“We can’t try to recreate the magic of the By The Way album release. It would be disingenuous.” He insisted.

“I thought that was the whole point!” You argued, before groaning. “Ugh, Fine! Umm…” You shuffled through CDs. “Fall Out Boy just released an album.”

“Who?” He asked, squinting his eyes in confusion. 

“They’re a new band out of Chicago. This is their debut studio album, it’s called Take This To Your Grave.” you said, holding up the blue jeweled case. Suguru looked…hurt. Like the cavalry had come and made it their personal mission to trample him into the dust.

“You’ve been listening to new bands without me?” He asked, starting the car. That bitter taste of resentment filled your mouth again.

“Well, yea. Life didn’t end because we did.” Besides, this album had been helping you more than you were willing to admit. He nodded in defeat, biting his lip as the two of you pulled onto the road.

“Play it.” he muttered. You didn’t know if you were thrilled with or deeply regretted your decision to play this album, but the opening verse was cutting. Light that smoke, Yeah, one for giving up on me/ And one just 'cause they'll kill you sooner than my expectations/ To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar (to my favorite scar)/ I could have died with you.

“Well fuck Y/n, Is there something you’d like to say to me?” He tried to laugh, but the humor didn’t make it to his voice. “Feels a little targeted.” you shrugged.

“We all cope in different ways.” you muttered. You thought back on your relationship. A backseat romance that belonged to parking lots and famous cemeteries. A relationship that existed on highways and at dingy basement shows, and always on his terms. It was fun at first, even you had to admit. And, maybe it could have stayed as just fun, if he wasn’t so fucking…sweet! He was always so tender with you in the afterglow of your nights together, even if that just met cleaning you up with fast food napkins in his back seat. He was a cuddler too, insisting on you staying the night with him after your nights together under the guise of it being late, when you both knew it was so the two of you could hold each other.

It wasn’t just the after care though, or the sex for that matter. It was him bringing you candy and setting up a movie marathon when he knew you were struggling with your classes. It was him giving you a copy of Rebecca that he annotated because he wanted to share his thoughts with you about it. It was him giving you a copy of The Color and the Shape album because it had Everlong on it, and that was “Our Song” according to him. How could you not have fallen in love?

It started to hurt. That he was so willing to be so sweet and tender with you behind closed doors, but the moment you wanted to be something more, he froze. Suddenly, he didn't know why you guys needed to put a label on things! You guys were having fun, why did you want to mess up ‘the dynamic’ whatever the fuck that ment. Yea, he was fun. But you were tired of being just another hook up in a dingy venue bathroom. Absolutely sick of having to sneak out of his bedroom window, because his roommates would start asking questions if they saw you there for the fourth time that week. He constantly promised he was going to make things official, he just needed time. But, it wasn’t like you were asking him to fucking marry you, just to change your fucking title and maybe take you out on a real date every once in awhile.

Doubts started to fill your head. There had to be a reason he wouldn’t commit to you, right? Was it another girl? Was something wrong with you? It all came to a head six months ago. The two of you were laying in his bed, Crestfallen by The Smashing Pumpkins softly playing in the background as the two of you shared a cigarette, pleasure still throbbing between your legs as you listened to the steady beat of his heart. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He purred, gently petting your head. You hummed in response, not really believing it at this point. He picked up on your doubt, “I’m serious.” he doubled down. “You’re probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever been with.” He chuckled.

“That so?” You asked, taking the cigarette from him, “Then why aren’t I your girlfriend?” you asked, blowing smoke in his face. He grimaced as he waved it away.

“We’re doing this again? Seriously?” he seemed so…annoyed. Like this whole conversation equated to a nat he couldn’t quite seem to swat. 

“No.” you shut down, “We’re not.”

“Good.” he said, taking the smoke back, “I’ve told you before, we’re perfect as we are.”

“Perfect for you maybe.”

“Y/n.”

“What? You can’t seriously be shocked I don’t agree with you.” you scoffed, rage starting to bubble in your stomach.

“I’m not shocked. I just don’t get it. What could you possibly get out of a title that’s worth all of the fighting you’re doing for it?” you could feel yourself seething, your blood boiling over. Did he ever listen to you?

“Well, for starters I’d get the safety of knowing that you probably weren't out sleeping around with anyone willing to open their legs for you.” It was Getos turn to seethe. You could tell by the way his jaw clenched that you had struck a nerve deep inside him.

“Oh, is that what you think I’m doing in my free time? Just fucking anyone and everyone? That I’m so pussy motivated I just can’t keep it in my pants? Well if that's the case, Babe,” The word ‘Babe” had never sounded so dirty. You would have rather he called you slut, bitch, dumbass, anything. “What makes you think that having a “GiRlFrIeNd is going to magically make me loyal? Huh? What then, Gorgeous? And, not to be that guy, but you’ve let me fuck you in just about every venue, parking lot, and random bedroom this town has to offer, and I’m not even your boyfriend. So who’s to say you’re going to keep your legs shut just because we’re official, huh Sweetheart?” 

Suguru could make you feel on top of the world, or cheaper than dirt depending on his mood. That was the problem with English majors. They had a way with words and more often than not they used them for evil. Any heat you had left drained from your body, replaced only with an inescapable emptiness as you realized the Suguru you convinced yourself was next to you may not have even existed. 

And Geto knew he fucked up. He regretted the words as they were spilling out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself and he couldn’t put them back now. The silence was heavy with all the words the two of you wanted to say to each other but couldn’t.

“Y/n-” Geto started, hand reaching for your shoulder, but all it did was break you out of your daze. You snapped, slapping his hand away as you got up and dressed.

“Don’t you fucking touch me. Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.”

“Y/n, wait, please, I didn’t mean that-” He struggled to defend himself, hurriedly putting on his pants. 

“You fucking said it Suguru! Lose my goddamn number, I am so fucking done here. It’s so good to know i’m just a fucking fleshlight to you.” you hissed, rushing out of his room.

“I never said that Y/n! You mean so much more to me than that, don’t go!-” he said, following you out.

“Clearly I fucking don’t!” You snapped. Oh good. His roommates, Satoru and Sukuna, were both sitting in the living room. 

“Yes you do Y/n, I love you!” He pleaded. He had never said that before. Satoru audibly gasped. Your entire body seized and seethed. You turned around and smacked him across the face without thinking, making Sukuna laugh,

“Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again Suguru Geto.”

“I’m not lying Y/n-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off. “I don’t fucking care anymore. You are the worst mistake I have ever fucking made.” You wanted to sound intimidating, but the tears in your voice gave you away. You rushed out of the door before he could see you cry, almost laughing at the “Have a good night!” Sukuna threw your way as you did. 

The sound of a car door closing snapped you out of your day dream. You were at another convenience store. When did you get here? Suguru had just plopped in the seat next to you, handing you a bag. 

“Hold these for me, will you, beautiful?” He asked. You did as he asked, looking into the bag.

“Suguru, these are four lokos.” You pointed out. 

“Yep. best flavors too.” While you may agree with the green apple, he also had a gold flavored one, which was just objectively wrong. Not the point.

“Dude, these will fuck you up, what do you think you’re doing?” You asked as he pulled into a park less than a block away from your apartment. The two of you had spent many a night here on the swings.

“Trying to get fucked up, duh.” He laughed as he took the bag. He handed you the green apple flavored can of death. You sighed as you took it, getting out of the car and moving to sit on the hood with him. You noticed he had turned off the CD, Like a Stone now drifting softly from your car speakers. You wondered when he finally gave up on it. You finally opened the green camo can, and winced as the drink electrocuted your now sober nervous system. 

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as the alcohol saturated your systems. You wondered why you were here with him. What kept you coming back to Suguru Geto. Why couldn’t you just move on? Suddenly, you felt it in your bones when Chris Cornell groaned out “In your house, I long to be/ Room by Room, patiently/ I’ll wait for you there/ Like a stone” 

“I’m sorry.” He finally broke the silence. Your head whipped over to him. He was staring up at the stars. He looked so delicate in that moment. Like a gust of wind would shatter him into stardust. 

“What for?” You thought you knew, but you had to hear him say it.

“Everything.” Oh god, there were tears in his voice. It made you put down your four loko. “I’m sorry about all the shit I said to you the last time I saw you. I’m sorry I just tried to call instead of coming to face you, like a coward. And I’m sorry I couldn’t just man the fuck up and make you my girlfriend.” The words were tumbling out of him faster than he could process them, leaving him more vulnerable and honest than he would have liked.

It shook you. You weren't prepared for him to be so vulnerable with you that night. “It’s fine Suguru.” You muttered. He laughed and shook his head, finally looking at you.

“No it’s not. I hurt you.” He said matter of factly. “And then, I doubled down on it to make it all worse.” you were silent for a moment, staring at your dirty converse.

“W…why were you so against being with me officially?” You finally asked the question that had been weighing heavy on you for so long now. 

“I was scared.” He finally admitted. “I was so scared that if we put a label on it, things would change. That suddenly we wouldn’t be hanging out because we liked to be with each other anymore, that we’d just be doing it out of obligation.”

“Suguru, that's dumb.” You sighed, the booze making you a little more blunt that you otherwise would have been.

“I know that.” He laughed, bringing his knees to his chest. “I just…I don’t know. I thought if I kept you at an arm's length, I wouldn’t have to worry about it. There would be that space. But, I don’t know how to keep you at an arm's length. You’re like my favorite song, you get stuck in my head and I don’t even want to get you out. I just want you closer. So, I thought I’d maintain that space by just…not labeling us. And that clearly did more harm than good. When you left, I tried to just…let you go” he sighed, leaning back against the windshield of your car. He looked at you with love and adoration glimmering in his eyes. 

“I figured it was better that way, I tried to forget you. Yea, turns out that's a lot easier said than done. God, I can’t even think about listening to the Foo Fighters anymore. Which, Fucking Sucks because Everywhere But Here just dropped and I can’t bring myself to listen to it because you’re not there.” he laughed at his own stupidity, his palm meeting his forehead. He still couldn’t believe it took him losing you to realize how much you met. How cliche. 

You felt a lump in your throat. You had been wanting to listen to that album too, but couldn’t without him. It didn’t feel right. It felt like cheating. It was why you had picked up the fall out boy album instead. “You know,” You started, “You really hurt me. Like, you really fucking hurt me Suguru.”

“I know-” He sighed.

“But.” You cut him off, “I’ve also been a mess without you. It’s weird. You don’t really know how much you care about something until you’re missing it. And I thought I really cared about you even before the breakup.” You half chuckled to yourself. “And I mean, I want to still be mad about the fight. I want to hold it over your head. I wish I could hate you even half as much as I hate myself. But, I just can’t. I miss you.” you sighed, feeling foolish.

Suguru suddenly placed his hand on top of yours, pulling you out of your spiral. “I miss you too.” He confessed. Followed by a pause. “It’s not too late for us, ya know.” He finally said. “I’d really love to make you my girlfriend Y/n.”

🎵🎵🎵

Laughter filled the air as the two of you walked to your apartment building, deciding it was best to leave the car after the two of you had downed the alcoholic energy drinks. Buzzing with booze and caffeine was a different type of feeling. “Well, this is mine.” You smiled as the two of you walked up to your door.

“Sure is” Geto nodded, “Mind if I come in?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden gentlemanly persona. 

“Was this your plan the whole time?”

“Not the whole time but it was definitely the end goal.” He admitted, and you couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red from embarrassment or alcohol. 

“And what was your plan if I said no?” You teased.

“Well, plan B was to see if you’d at least let me come in while I waited for Satoru to come pick me up.” He admitted. He really was one step ahead. 

“And if I said no to that?”

“Then I’d have one hell of a walk on my hands.” He laughed. You couldn’t help but giggle along with him. His laugh had always been infections. 

“Well, I’d hate to make you walk.” You chuckled as you unlocked your door, the two of you tumbling inside. In true Suguru fashion, he went straight to the stereo system in your room, looking to see what album you had been listening to. About a Girl filled the air of your small apartment. You chuckled softly as you joined him in your room. Of course he would play a CD he burned for you. 

You took a moment to actually take him in. mesh top clinging to his arms, an Alice in Chains shirt covering up the real action. His hair was messy from the walk, half up half down, and he now sported a slight stubble he hadn’t during your relationship. He looked good. He turned to look at you, dark eyes softening as he smiled softly.

“What?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Nothing.” you shrugged.

“Oh, so you wanna just keep eye fucking me? Ok, cool just making sure.” He laughed.

“And what's wrong with wanting to do that?” you laughed. He turned and smirked at you, moving to close the space.

“Why fuck me with your eyes when you could just fuck me?” He asked, a line you 're sure sounded way smoother in his head. You rolled your eyes as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Yea, real smooth there Cruzan Cassanova, you-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Sugurus mouth had connected with you, the taste of pineapple alcohol and cigarettes mixing on your tongue. You melted into him, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. You felt your pulse quicken as the kiss heated up, the drinks of the night combining with his presence to make your head spin. He bit your lip, using the small gasp you let out as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. 

God, you missed him. Your body cleared up any doubt, if there was any, in that fact with the way it immediately reacted to him. You felt his hands start to wander, moving down your spine to grab your ass. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Your body tensed as you felt his hand slip under the waistband of your jeans and the elastic of your panties.

“Look at you princess,” He pulled back to smirk, lust filling his eyes, “Already soaking wet. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me.” He never missed an opportunity to be condescending in bed, did he?

“Get fucked Suguru.” You groaned, your hips involuntary bucking into his hand as he pressed too fingers into your folds. You needed more.

“I assure you, I’m trying.” He grinned, removing his hand and making you almost scream in frustration. He kissed you before you could get a word in about how insufferable he could be. “I’m gonna take care of you Princess, don’t worry.” He assured you as he took your top off, “But it’s been awhile since I’ve been with my favorite girl. And I want to enjoy it.” he purred.

You weren’t sure how, but at some point he had gotten you on your bed and was taking off your pants. “Hey, no fair!” you panted as you realize. He paused what he was doing to look at you quizzically, trying to figure out when he had been anything other than fair. 

“You’re completely dressed and I’m basically naked.” You clarified sheepishly. Suguru held back a laugh at how cute you were. He finished his task, then took off his ratty band shirt.

“Better?” He asked. You felt like you were going to burn from the inside out as you looked at him. The mesh perfectly outlining every bump and crevice of his perfect body. Greek gods wished they looked like him. You nodded.

“Much.” you said as Suguru dragged you to the edge of the bed. You felt needy and helpless under him. He dropped to his knees in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs with intent to bruise. More than once he ghosted himself right where you needed him the most, filling you with frustration. “Suguru please..” You moaned out.

“Please what Princess?” He asked, smirking up at you.

“Please Sug, I need you to touch me.” You begged.

“But I am touching you Darling.” You almost kicked him.

“Suguru Please!” You begged.

“Princess, you can’t already be fucked stupid. I’ve barely touched you, Pretty-”

“Yea, that’s the problem!” you whined. He chuckled darkly at your pain, but relented.

“Where do you want me Princess? Right here?” he asked, fingers ghosting over your clothes core. Your breath hitched and you nodded frantically.

“Use your words Babygirl, you know the rules.” You took a deep breath.

“Yes, please Sir, I want you to play with my pussy.” You felt red hot saying all of those things out loud, but god the look in his eyes was fucking worth it. He was taking off your panties in an instant, marveling at the sting of slick that connected you to them until it snapped. 

“Fucking Christ.” He moaned to himself, one of his hands going to grind on his hard cock. “I’ve barely fucking touched you and you’re fucking gushing.” He chuckled, his hands finally moving to where you needed him to be. The moan you let out as his fingers finally found your clit was embarrassing. “Can anyone else do this to you Doll?” you shook your head almost violently.

“No, no sir. No one but you.” You panted softly, getting lost in the bliss currently filling your bloodstream. Shit, you 're not going to last long. 

“That’s what I thought.” He chuckled darkly, two fingers abruptly darting into your cunt and making your entire body tense. “My slutty girl only puts out like this for me, isn’t that right?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.” he said, rewarding you with a third finger. You gasped at the feeling, your soaking pussy taking anything it could get and more. He curled his fingers, sending a rush of electric endorphins through your body as he graced your g-spot. You moaned out his name, your hands curling into your sheets. 

“Just out of curiosity, what have you been doing for six months without me?” His eyes were dark, letting you know he wasn’t just asking what new books you’d read.

“Thought of you.” You moaned, a tight knot forming in your stomach. 

“Oh?” He asked, pausing his actions. He wanted details.

“I thought about you fucking me.” Right answer, he started moving again, “I thought about how good your cock stretched me out, and how good it felt inside me. I pretended it was you fucking me whenever I used my toys, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing feels like you do Sug,” You moaned out your sloppy confessional. His thumb had found your clit and was massaging it in time with his relentless fingers. His free hand groping himself through his jeans, needed even an ounce of friction. “I’m so fucking close..”

“You’re goddamn right nothing feels like Me princess.” he groaned to distract himself, least he cum in his jeans like a fucking teenager. You felt yourself speeding off a cliff, his words only aiding in pressing the accelerator. “You think a fucking toy could make you feel even an ounce of what I make you feel? That's naive at best Darling. You’re fucking mine nothing and no one is ever going to make you feel the way that I do. Cum for me Princess.”

A few strokes later and you came hard on his fingers, pussy clenching around him in beautiful ways. Suguru didn’t know if he wanted to watch your cunt or your face, but it didn't matter really. He didn’t plan on letting up anytime soon. He finger fucked you through your high, removing his fingers only after you had semi-calmed down. 

He moved over you, slipping his fingers into your mouth which you gladly cleaned off for him, always eager to show him how good you were. You pulled off with a loud pop, looking at him with doe eyes for approval. You assumed he approved, because he was very quickly freeing himself of his tripp pants and boxers with the efficiency only a mall goth could ever possess. He was in between your legs before you had even fully processed what was going on.

He leaned down to leave rough kisses on your neck, the blissful pain of the bruises forming almost distracted you from the feeling of his cock pushing into your soaking wet cum. Almost. Nothing could ever fully distract you from the euphoria of Suguru Getos cock stretching you out in ways only he could. You moaned out his name, hands flying to claw at his back through the mesh shirt. 

He faltered, letting out a shaking breath as he felt your warmth for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. “Fuck Y/n. I swear to whatever god there is this pussy was fucking made for me.” He said through a breathy laugh, pulling back just to push back in, stroking your g-spot beautifully and earning himself an embarrassing moan from you.

“So fucking good for me.” he groaned. Every stroke of his hips sent a new wave of electricity through your core, your body reacting to his every move and begging him for more. If Suguru Geto was a drug you were an addict. The pleasure sent your head swirling and your nerves on fire. 

“God you feel so fucking good,” he groaned as he rolled his hips into yours, “I can’t fucking believe you forgot you we’re mine.” He said, his movements suddenly becoming rougher, forcing you to yelp out his name. “You tried to leave me and then couldn’t even get yourself off Doll, it’s almost cute.” He mocked. “You’re mine do you understand? This cunt belongs to me, Do you get that?” you nodded, trying desperately to take in all his words while the coil in your stomach began to tighten again. He had never been so possessive before. 

“Answer me Slut.” He demanded with a rough buck of his hips. You nodded violently.

“Yes! Yes Sir.” You groaned. You wouldn't argue even if you could have. 

“Say it.” He demanded, “Say my name, say you belong to me.”

“I’m all yours Suguru, You’re and only yours. I’ll never leave again.” You said, your second climax coming on faster than you would have liked. Every stroke of his hips hit your g-spot dead on. He really did know your body better than anyone else.

“Damn right you won’t.” He groaned, his hind falling between your bodies to massage circles into your clit. Your entire body tensed with pleasure as you started to come undone again.

“Sug-”

“I know.” There was no mistaking the way your pussy fluttered around him. He knew you were close. “Cum on me, cum on cock.” You didn’t need to be asked twice. A few more strokes of his dick and you were coming undone all over it.

“You’re so pretty when you cum Princess.” He said darkly, somehow picking up his pace. He wasn;t worried about your pleasure anymore, you got yours. He wanted his. And you felt so good around him, warm and velvety. He could stay in between your legs forever and be happy. He moved your legs over his shoulders, managing to fuck you even deeper than he was before. Your overstimulated moans only adding fuel to his fire. 

“You’re so pretty whenyou’re fucked out, you know that?” He said, condescension dripping from his voice. “So fucking pretty, You’re gonna look even better with my cum dripping out of your pussy, you know that?” The way you moaned and the way you clenched around him was enough to send him over the edge, filling you to the brim and somehow still finding the energy to fuck some of it back into you before collasping onto you.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, him inside of you and holding you close to him. You felt more thankful than ever to be on the pill as you played with his soft hair.

“I…is fucking Closer playing? Nine Inch Nails?” You asked, suppressing a laugh as you tuned into the song. Suguru lifted up his head to listen, laughing as he registered Trent Reznors distorted growl. 

“Oh my god, I think it is.” He laughed, “I forgot this was on here.”

“Helluva song to hook up to.” You laughed. He nodded in agreement. 

“Yea, definitely not the best for a hookup. But maybe not bad for a round two?”

[sardonic-the-writer]

—just for one day

SUMMARY | schlatt really isn't one for this sappy shit. but on this particular day, just for you, he'll make an exception

PAIRING | jschlatt x reader

REQUESTED | no. but this was a gift for a mutual of mine!

WORD COUNT | 1.4k+

WARNINGS | none!

AUTHORS NOTES | happy valentines day you guys :]

—playlist

❣️ Masterlist ❣️ Navigation ❣️ Rules ❣️

If there was one thing you knew, it was that your best friend was shit at planning things.

Schlatt was always one for the more blunt approaches. He always had been. Preferring to just get things done instead of dancing around it. He claimed it was part of the reason he was such a man, but you knew it was also because he new next to butt fuck nothing about mushy stuff.

For instance, last Christmas? Instead of something like a nice sweater or some books, he had gotten you a fake glock to match the one he kept on his desk all the time. The thing hadn't even been wrapped. Simply being thrown onto your lap with in blur of black as Schlatt stood over you from your spot on the floor surrounded by a smattering of wrapping paper, looking at you awkwardly.

You still had the heavy bastard, actually. Resting in one of the drawers of your bedside table. Right next to a pair of fuzzy socks and some markers you had bought but never used.

It was just one of the many things that happened to remind you of the person that had gotten it for you. Not just the stupid mutton chops and his weird Pope Francis cardboard cutout. But rather the guy who would watch you pretend to shoot him with your christmas present while laughing, softly grinning at you as you continued to amuse yourself.

In all your time knowing Schlatt, he had come to be known as the very epitome of someone who spoke before they thought. A brash, loud, fucking whirlwind of a man that did as he pleased—finding time to cuddle with his orange cat in secret somewhere inbetween all that.

And belive it or not, you had come to love him because of it. All of him. Even the parts that didn't know how to give good gifts because he was afraid he'd fuck it up.

Which is why valentines day had been such a surprise to you.

"Why are you holding a blindfold?"

You brows furrowed in confusion as your attention diverted from the droning t.v in front of you to the new member in the room. Who, in fact, was holding a white strip of fabric.

Admittedly, as soon as those words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded. You watched the man across from you quirk his lips into a smile—amused with your choice of words.

"Kinky. But it's not a blindfold." Schlatt grinned. He was standing across from your resting form on the couch, one hand in pocket while the other clutched the aforementioned item.

"I wouldn't exactly call a cut up scarf a blindfold anyways." He shook the process of fabric in his hands for extra emphasis, still grinning at you with amusment.

"Alright then." You sat up straighter, back aching in protest at the movement. "So why are you holding a "not a blindfold" blindfold?" Your air quotes and sardonic grin were met with an eyeroll as you smiled playfully.

"Becuase." Schlatt grumbled. "Today's supposed to be a special day for people and friends or whatever."

You waited with a quirked eyebrow for him to finish, having a feeling that wasn't all.

"And?"

He glared at you, although no real malice was behind it. You just smiled.

"And Ted might have told me he would fly out here and beat my ass if I didn't do something for you today."

"Yeah that sounds about right." You snickered, earning you a punch to the shoulder as Schlatt scoffed.

"Listen bud I'm trying to do something nice for you. I even took the time to google how to do this shit." Schlatt shook his head in false disappointment as you laughed. "The least you could do is put the blindfold on."

"Alright, alright." You stood up from your spot on the couch, plucking the blindfold from his hands as you tied it on. "I just hope whatever you've got planned for me isn't an execution squad, because that's what it feels like."

"Well fuck." You heard him snicker as you momentarily struggled to tie a knot. "There go's my plan for the day."

"If I could see where you were right now, I'd punch you."

"Sure you would toots."

Your neck warmed in the slightest when the next sensation you felt was the gentle touch of Schlatts hand at your lower back; presumably to guide you into whatever he had planned. You just hoped he wouldn't notice the way you blanched for a minute, opting to cover it off with a roll of your shoulders, as if sore from sitting down for so long.

"Lead the way, big guy."

Nothing was said for the next few moments. The only noises as you walked in whatever direction his hand guided you was the occasional sound of your joints popping, (damn you felt old hearing that) or Jambo meowing as he rubbed up against your leg.

"Okay. Stop. Hey. Stop. No dont—"

The very distinct feeling of a wall hitting your face sent you stumbling backward slightly, rubbing your head with a hiss where it had been the hardest. The action resulted in Schlatts hand drawing away from your back. It left a considerable feeling of cold lingering behind, which made your heart falter for a moment.

"Thanks for the heads up dude." You groaned to the very man who was, probably, behind you. You couldn't tell. The makeshift blindfold was doing a really good job at obstructing your vision for some reason.

"Hey, I tried to fucking warn you dumbass. Did you go deaf or something?" He rolled his eyes, which you couldn't see. "Now, could you hold still for a second."

Any snippy comeback you were going to respond with died in your throat as Schlatt squeezed past you, hands momentarily skimming over your waist to keep himself steady.

"Alright, now, take off the fucken blindfold."

You didn't know what you expected to see when you took it off, but it certainly wasn't this.

It was all you could do to not fall to the ground with laughter upon seeing Schlatt, the absolute skyscraper of a man, struggling under the weight of a giant bag of beef jerky bigger than the size of your right leg.

"Holy fucking—" You wheezed as he stumbled a little, grunting and adjusting his weight. "—holy shit Schlatt. Where—where the fuck did you even find that shit!?"

"I would tell you." Schlatt strained his voice with another grunt. "But I'd like to put this shit down before I do."

You followed after him with a smile, watching as he set the ginormous bag of food down next to his bed, plopping down on said piece of furniture before looking at you with a cutious glance.

"So, uh, happy valentines day?" He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room awkwardly as you snorted.

"What? Regretting being nice?" You teased. "Second guessing your gift?"

"Uh, maybe?"

Your joking stopped at that, taking a better look at the unsure way he was fiddling with his hands—busying them by scratching behind Jambo's ears as he laid in his lap lazily.

He really wasn't one to do things like this just because Ted told him too, or whatever other reason he had gave earlier. If you had to guess, he had probably done this on a whim. Probably scrolling through amazon late at night haphazardly adding things to his cart hoping you'd at least like it.

Or maybe he just wanted to get you a five pound bag of seasoned jerky. Who knows.

"Ah don't worry about it man." You set a hand on his shoulder, lightly punching it with a smile in hopes of cheering him up. "It's the thought that counts, or whatever. Just dont expect me to share any."

"Bitch!! I bought that for you. Do you know how much that bastard cost!?"

"Should have thought about that before getting it for me big man."

"Fuck you!" He laughed, eyes scrunched up at the corners.

"Fuck you too loser." You said, mirroring his smile with just as much enthusiasm. "And happy valentines day."

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit Part Two ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two, three

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst, explicit smut, 'daddy' and 'babygirl' petnames, light spanking, heated physical domestic argument

x x x

Jake shot me a text as soon as he touched down in his hotel, leaving me to navigate the aftermath of our little gathering solo. I silently cleaned up the traces of the night, letting my thoughts swirl in the quiet aftermath. Shouldn't I be on cloud nine? Chris, I assumed, had already landed by now, maybe snagging his stuff from the baggage claim. Why the resistance to me picking him up? Couldn't he save some cash and avoid those Uber headaches? As I mulled over Jake's words from our earlier chat, a wave of guilt washed over me. If someone messed with my career, I'd probably cut ties too. 

But did it have to be face-to-face? 

Suddenly, two knocks jarred me, throwing my dogs into their usual frenzy of barks. Now? It felt too soon, like breaking a speed record from airport to doorstep, factoring in landing, baggage, and Uber waits. My motion light, unnoticed until now, flickered on as I was lost in thought. My palms got a little clammy as I fished out my phone, checking for messages from a friend dropping by. But all my friends were back in my hometown. 

Unscheduled visits are a rarity out here, that’s part of the reason why I picked such an isolated home. 

Scrolling through my phone, the doorbell rang out, setting my pets into a louder commotion. Activating the security camera app, I saw Chris on the screen—dark hoodie, black beanie, and chill gray sweats. Hands in his pockets, a visible exhale, like he'd been holding his breath. Just one piece of luggage, small enough to be a carryon. Skipping baggage claim altogether, I guessed. 

Maybe he didn't want to risk airport paparazzi, but at this hour, it'd be a ghost town anyway. 

I unlocked the door, slower than planned, giving it a cautious swing open. Stepping back, I left room for him to enter, the question of how to react buzzing in my head. Hug him? Kiss him? Do a little happy dance? God this is awkward. Chris sniffed, a hint of red on his nose, and began shedding his shoes and beanie, shaking out his curly hair. He looked wiped, but it had been ages since I'd seen him without the makeup mask.    His eyes told the tale of tiredness, the faint shadow under barely-there brows, and the shifts in his skin tone—all untouched by the glam squad. Even a touch of facial hair peeked through, a secret sign of the real guy behind the polished pretty boy image, something he religiously stayed on top of. All the things that make him very human.  The things not many people get to see. 

"What changed?" I threw the question at him, arms crossed in the entryway. Our eyes connected for the first time since he rolled in. I caught a flicker in his right eye, a giveaway of stress and insomnia. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, a nervous move, just enough to reveal a hint of his dimple near his mouth's corner. 

Undeterred, I pressed on, "Channie—" 

His eyebrows pulled together instinctively, a tough look in his eyes. "Don't call me that," he shot back, a stern expression etched on his face. 

Frustration bubbled up, my voice amped up involuntarily, control slipping away. 

"What the fuck is your problem? What? Did you catch a red-eye just to come argue with me?" 

"Yes! I caught a red-eye fucking flight to—"    Chris cut himself off mid-sentence, sucking in air sharply through his teeth, muttering something under his breath in Korean. He ran his hand down his face, eyes closed, releasing a breath before locking eyes with me again. The anger lingered, but it was transforming into something I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

I could feel hot tears threatening, but I held them back, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, refusing to show any weakness. Was this the end? 

"Of course, I hopped on a flight to have it out with you. Isn't that what you wanted?"    “Don’t you gaslight me Christopher Bang, I’m not your little fucking fans–” 

He looked exasperated, hands out, "What do my fans have to do with this?! You said it's simple, am I coming or not? I'm here, just like you wanted, because it's all about you, isn't it?" 

I turned away, striding off, the red haze building within me. I wanted to lay into him for talking out the side of his neck like this, but I wouldn't stoop to that level. His voice echoed down the hall. 

"Yeah, walk away. It's your specialty—running away." 

I halted, closing my eyes, back turned to him, grappling with the urge. I fought it hard; he was on the brink of hitting below the belt. Logic eluded me at this moment. 

"I'm going to smoke before I physically violate you." 

Attempting to walk away again, his footsteps echoed behind me. Chris wasn't the type to follow for an argument—that was typically my role. I expected him to detour to the kitchen for a drink or something, anything other than what he actually did. His hand seized my forearm, yanking me hard enough to turn me three-quarters around. I saw red, wind knocked out of me as my back slammed into the wall, caged between his big, loud hands thudding against the wall beside my head. A flinch—a moment of confusion. Had he struck me? 

Quickly assessing, no parts of my body ached except between my shoulder blades from the impact. 

Breathing heavier than anticipated, Chris mirrored the sentiment. 

"Physically violate me, then," he uttered, his voice dangerously low, just above a whisper. My body was confused, my brain a tangled mess. His intense gaze bore into my face, forcing me to look away. He tilted his head, compelling eye contact once more. 

"It's not rocket science, Y/N." 

The phrase echoed from our earlier phone argument, reigniting my hostility. I raised my head, meeting his eyes with a narrowed gaze. "I hate you," I snarled, trying to slip underneath his arm to free myself. Chris wasn't having it; he gripped my wrist behind my back, pressing my chest against the wall. His muscular frame kept me in place, his chest against my back. I twisted my wrist, but he tightened his hold. His breath grazed my shoulder, his words so close to my ear it felt like he was feeding them straight into my brain. 

"I hate you too, baby," he murmured. His free hand ghosted the tendrils of hair that had escaped my messy ponytail, tender and gentle unlike the firm grip on my wrist. As his fingers swept the hair away, soft lips pressed against my skin, eliciting a sigh from my lips. Each kiss left thorns of heat, moving along my neck, down to my shoulder. 

"I hate you," I repeated, losing my edge. 

"Mmm, shut up—I know," Chris replied.    Finally, he releases me, his hands finding their way to my waist beneath my baggy sweatshirt. Despite being in my home for a few minutes, his touch is still cold against my warmed skin. I feel a shiver as my nipples harden, and he seems to sense it, cupping them, squeezing. My knees almost buckle as I lean back, my head perfectly resting on his shoulder. Our bodies intertwine, fitting together like a perfect puzzle piece. His fingers pinch the pebbled flesh, drawing a moan from me and an audible sigh from him. 

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I can feel his hardness against my backside. It's not a gradual thing; he's already rock stiff, hips grinding into me as his hands explore my body with a passionate messiness. 

What were we arguing about again?    Lust swirls, making me dizzy with how good my body feels. My eyes lose focus and regain it with every recovery breath as he squeezes at the extra padding on my hips and waist. No part of my body goes untouched, and I try to shake off my reservations.     No, that was a hang-up of mine.    Christopher Bang is here to touch, lick, and squeeze every inch that belongs to him. 

A tap on my hip brings me back to reality—a gentle reminder between us whenever things heat up in unconventional places. 

Against-the-wall activities are actually pretty uncomfortable in real life. 

Who knew? 

He takes my hand, and I follow him like an excited puppy, almost stumbling over myself to reach his body once we get to the couch. It's my turn now; my hands have a mind of their own too, you know. 

Such a soft face without makeup, I'd almost forgotten the hardness of his body—had it become even more solid? My hands run over his abdomen, feeling something different—less lean, more meaty. Usually, I go straight for what's mine, but now I'm curious. Gripping the bottom of his hoodie, I can sense the muscle shirt underneath, so I yank them both off, the scent of his body wash, cologne, and deodorant hitting me all at once, etching the experience into my mind on nearly every sensory level, except for... 

Taste. 

As his clothes drop to the floor with a muffled thud on the carpet, he turns to face me. His skin is less milky, more sandy tan, and wheat-colored under my warm lights, unlike the artificial ones he's usually bathed in. He must've soaked up the sun in LA, and I can still see it reddening in the places where blood has surged the quickest. 

He's completely under the spell of carnal sensuality—deep in the well, unable to see anything around him, becoming the parts of himself he wouldn't dare confront in the daylight. I notice because I pay attention to things like that—I see the way he looks at me, as if I'm his most treasured plaything. His mannerisms change, slower, with certainty in every touch. He says things you wouldn't dare repeat once he's back to his Earth self, lest he deny, deny, deny, laughing loudly overtop of you, or cringing away from embarrassment. 

Yes, as I drop slowly to my knees, watching him, I see the way he stands in his masculinity, divine, a god in his own right. Just when I think the moment can't get any hotter or I might combust, I hear him—a puff of air through his nose, a lazy, almost entertained, but not quite—chuckle. His lip quirks ever so slightly upwards. 

"You hate me?" 

Heat radiates from my body; I'm certain I'm letting off steam at this point. I feel it, especially in my face, fingers wrapped in the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging loosely as I look down, unable to maintain eye contact, feeling regret building up in me. I can tell by the way he says it that he never believed it—but still... 

"I didn't think so," Chris' voice answers the unspoken questions in my head. His fingers graze the bottom of my chin, urging me to look at him. "Look at me while you do it." 

My engine roars to life without hesitation. I tighten my grip on his sweats, yanking them down with determination. He kicks them off, backing up to sit on the couch, but I'm not waiting. I take the caramel-colored, thick head of his dick between my lips, halting his retreat. The sweetness of his precum floods my mouth, turning bitter as it reaches the back of my tongue and throat. Flattening my tongue against the bottom of his girthy shaft, I open my mouth, letting him rub his sensitive, unsheathed tip against the warm, back wall of my throat. 

Obediently watching him. 

He likes that, making it clear by placing his hand on the back of my head, urging me to stay while he thrusts further, pulling out just a centimeter to plunge into my throat. Small gasps escape his lips every time my gag reflex spasms around him. I run out of breath, choking backward, and he lifts his hand, allowing me to right myself. 

"C'mon, babygirl—thaaaat's it—fuck." Chris grips what's left of my ponytail, guiding me back onto his dick, all the way to the back, with no true mercy. A few more tiny thrusts, and I'm coughing again, my mouth and jaw drenched with slippery saliva mixed with the constant ooze of his precum. He glances behind him, ensuring his seating, then lets himself fall back onto the couch, hand tangled in my thick hair as I wrap both hands around his cock—a pretty, deep brown, a stark contrast to his body tone. 

When I start focusing on stroking his sensitive tip, he drops his head back, emitting the most delicious groan. Pulling back on his sheath, dribbling spit onto his tip, I begin jerking him again, taking advantage of the smoothness the extra skin provides. I follow with my mouth, taking in whatever my hands can't reach, and when I start with the suction, another groan escapes him—this time, broken, his hips rising a little off the couch, encouraging me to keep going. 

"Oh God—that feels fucking—incredible; don't you—fucking stop."    His chest moves with each gasp as I twirl my hand a certain way. I try to stay consistent, but it's been a while, and my neck strains from the bobbing, lips growing numb. But fuck, he's so hot; I don't wanna stop. 

I engage in a slow rhythm, savoring the silky feeling of his dickhead against my swollen mouth and eager lips, pressing loud, wet kisses against it. He's lifted his gaze to watch, and I seize the opportunity to run my tongue along his length, exploring the prominent ridge beneath. 

"Oh my God—" His head drops back, words and vowels drawn out in ecstasy. 

I lean back on my heels, hands taking charge, a twist here, a firm grasp there. When I lean forward and start slurping again, with all intentions of taking this man’s soul—his hips withdraw, and he halts me with a breathless, "Fuck," sounding like he just finished a sprint. "You almost made me cum," He taps my shoulder twice, a signal we both understand, prompting another switch in our silent dance. 

I’m more than happy to obey, feeling how wet I’ve become when he pulls my sweats off as I climb onto the couch on my knees, my arms resting on the head of it that rests against the wall.   I can feel his hands, now warm, even hot almost against my ass as he spreads me open.  I curl my fingers into the couch with anticipation, and then comes the feeling of both of his fingers entering me first.  I let out an eager moan, reveling in the relief and satisfaction of being touched by someone so skillfully.  He’s curling two fingers, stroking my spot, I can feel his pinky and index splayed against my juicy, wet pussy lips.  The filthy sounds amplify as he increases the pressure, prompting me to move against his touch, the base of his hand firmly against my asshole. 

“Mmm, baby, you know how much daddy loves to eat this pretty little cunt—but the way you’re clenching around my fingers, fuck I—I gotta feel you.”  Chris slows down, he speaks again, reminding me of his proposition, “Is that alright babygirl? Hm? Can daddy fuck you now?” 

“Mhm, Mhm!” I can’t think straight, why was he asking? Of course he could fuck me ten ways from Tuesday in a handstand for all I care!  Just— 

“Fuck me.” I beg, unsure if I meant to finish that thought out loud. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” The weight of his knee presses onto my leg, his foot securing his position against my other thigh, his thumb against my asshole as I begin to feel his dick stretching me open, eliciting the weirdest, downright feral sound from deep within my gut. He’s raw, and I swore I could feel every vein, every ridge, and his head passing through every sensitive quadrant of my pussy until his balls tickled the lips covering my entrance.  It was then that my walls squeeze around him, desperate to feel him move.  I could almost make myself cum just like that—I begin moving against him, caught in the intensity of the moment, like a cat in heat, and he’s so deep, I feel him in places that make my eyes flutter. 

Thumb leaving my sensitive hole, Chris takes firm hold of the sides of my tummy, rutting into my heat, sending a shiver through my spine that puts me into an arch. He seizes the chance to hold the front of my neck, adjusting me for a slower, more profound connection, exploring every inch of me.  It takes a lot of stamina in the legs for this—of course he’s got that.  I rest my hand on his thigh beside me, feeling the firmness, digging my nails in as I grit my teeth together, the pleasure overwhelming me as our bodies, beginning to get slick with the fluids between us, rock desperately against one another. 

I'm released, and I lurch forward, barely snagging myself on the top of the couch. Just then, I sense it against my left hip— 

 tap tap 

My vision snaps back into focus as I hear him breathing as heavily as I am, flopping down onto the couch. I take the lead, hovering over him. We both gaze as his dick is swallowed up by my pussy, inch by beautiful inch.    I let out an incoherent sound, a mix of a grunt and a moan, my arm draped over his shoulder, fingers entwined in the curls at the nape of his neck as he thrusts. My touch shifts from gentle exploration to grabbing fistfuls of his thick, silky, curly hair at the base of his skull. Using my knees for stability, I sync with his rhythm, adding those addictive hip circles that set every part of me ablaze like a pinball machine. The alarms blare, the lights flash – this, right here, is my favorite way to connect with Chris, where we're on an equal playing field. 

As we delve deeper into each other's gaze, the intensity heightens, but there's always a moment when one of us surrenders, head lolling back, eyes rolling together. His hands work my hips in rhythmic circles, like a baker kneading dough on a board. Yet, I sense when he's had his fill as he takes back control, lifting me up and snapping his hips into me at speeds that defy reality. My cries become a constant stream, shameless screams of his name, erratic and desperate. 

"Yeah, thaat's it—"    I can feel my walls softening as my body begins to literally feel like it's filling up with water that’s threatening to consume me any second now.  I’m gasping, trying to form the words to tell him I’m almost there, that he can’t stop, or even slow up, he’s got to keep going, I’m certain if I don’t get there, I’m going to die. 

“D-Daddy, don’t—” I can’t say anything else, I can only hope he gets it. 

And he does. 

Chris always gets it. 

“Gonna stop---all your bitching, hm?”  He’s holding my waist to allow me the freedom to focus on my impending orgasm. “Gonna let me do my fucking job from now on, yeah?”    “Mm--yeah!”      “Say it,”    “Chris!” I whimper in protest, “I’mma s-stop fucking---bitching!” 

“That’s my girl.”    He slaps my ass, sending a shock through my body, but before I can recover, he strikes again, and again, and my body becomes quickly hyperstimulated. I start letting go, my breath held hostage in my chest as Chris lets out a stream of curses, hitting his peak and spilling inside of me.  I can feel it, it’s carrying my climax out even further, and when I finally collapse, with him still inside, I can feel my entire body buzzing, and I’m muttering something that doesn’t make sense to myself or him. 

We're both catching our breath, heart rates settling down, but Chris finds joy in this aftermath. He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my lower back, exploring the dimples above my tailbone.    "What are you saying?" he asks. 

"I love you. I love you, and I never want us to breakup. Ever," I say, more composed now, my cheek resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, the pull of sleep threatening to take over like it always did after a proper orgasm. His arms wrap around me, securing them with a grasp on his own wrist. I feel a sense of security. 

"I love you too. I didn't come all this way to break up with you," he reassures me. I lift my head, likely with my hair wild and untamed. 

"Really, Channie?" 

He laughs.  The nickname is cleared for use again. He kisses my lips.

"Of course not. Why would I cross the country just to break up with someone? That seems like a lot of...effort," Chris continues. He tilts his head back to gaze at me, tucking his chin in. Once he sees my focused attention, he looks ahead as he talks. "I want to be with you, or I wouldn't have made you my girl—" 

"You didn't," I interrupt, sitting up. I pull away from his lap, wrapping the knitted throw over myself as I nestle into the couch beside him. 

He looks puzzled, "I didn't? Really?" He shrugs, raising his brows. "I always thought you were." 

The relief floods in. 

So, we were on the same page. 

Curiosity takes over, and I inquire, "When did you start thinking of me as your girlfriend?" 

"Mm." Chris looks up in thought before locking eyes with me again. "The first time we had sex." 

I'm taken aback by the memory. It wasn't a smooth ride, ended up in a heated argument. "When I got caught outside the building after our studio session? Chris, you almost jeopardized your whole career after that." 

Chris tugs at the blanket's end, and I hand it over. As he slides underneath, he takes my foot into his lap, rubbing circles into the center. "That's not how it works—don't get me wrong, it was... difficult. It still is, which is why I couldn't just decide to show up when you asked. I've been allowed, by contract, to date for a few years now." 

"Then why are we sneaking around like you're ashamed of me or something?" I hug the blanket tighter, feeling exposed. 

Chris seems thrown by this revelation. "Ashamed of you for what? You're beautiful, talented. I don't—did I give you that impression, babygirl?" He shakes his head. "I'm protecting you. You've just been signed to a major label, and we've got a good thing going, yeah? Why mess it up now when we can wait for things to level out for the both of us?" 

He makes some valid points. It's reassuring to hear he's not ashamed of me. I start to feel the familiar peace his presence brings. It's been four months since we were last in the same country, let alone the same city. I grew impatient after he came in on business and then left again, making excuses not to see me. That's why this time, I escalated it and added pressure. 

"Level out, what does that mean?" I ask. Chris sits back, mindlessly running his thumb over the pads of my toes while looking at the coffee table's candle. 

"I think we'll know once we both get there." He looks up to me. "I'm sorry, babygirl. I wish I had a better answer for you right now." He sounds sincere enough. I believe him. He's given me no reason not to trust him before, right? His fingers stop on my soles, and he tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to see something better. He leans forward, picking up the knitted beanie near the ashtray. 

My heart drops when I realize what it is. 

But why? I didn't do anything wrong.    RIght? 

"This new?" He turns it around on his hand. "Where'd you get it? I like it." 

Caught in the moment, I blurt, "A gift." I reach forward, taking it before he can spot any stray hair that doesn't match mine. He's not checking that closely, at least not yet. I turn it over in my hands. "I've been keeping it cold in the house, so it helps keep me warm," I say, tossing it onto the beanbag chair. I turn to him, nudging his shoulder as I scoot closer. 

"Sooo, how was KCON?"  - fin

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

i know the easiest way to resolve my two wolves dilemma about the near miss notfic is for buggy to be the one in disguise, okay? i know. i just haven’t been able to figure out why he’s in disg—okay, no, i’ve got it now.

(another self-indulgent “shanks/buggy post-roguetown, pre-luffy” encounter below the cut)

buggy, lately called “the clown,” is not usually a pirate given to subtlety or discretion. he wants word of his wicked deeds to spread far and wide! if people are afraid of him, they’ll give in faster, so he won’t have to work as hard to get what he wants!

but usually, there aren’t rumors of monkey d. garp in the area.

buggy’ll thumb his nose at most any marine, but garp is an exception. that guy has a monstrous strength on his old captain’s level, plus he’s equally famous for his incorruptibility and his bullheadedness. all in all somebody buggy absolutely does not want to deal with.

and sure, his bounty as it is probably doesn’t warrant a vice-admiral’s involvement, but garp’s been around a long time. he might recognize buggy as “one of roger’s brats.” and while they never had bounties of their own back then, surely the marine still want their heads. they went after tom, for fuck’s sake, there’s no way buggy is safe.

so until he hears from a reliable source that garp has left this particular corner of east blue behind, buggy is not leaving the sanctuary of his ship without a thorough disguise.

he’s gone without his distinctive makeup, of course. his hair he’s tied up and tucked away under an old knit cap, which he’s sewn an ink-black wig to the lining of to better conceal his identity. he even rubbed a bit of ink into his eyebrows to be doubly sure. and, last but hardly least, he’s chop-chopped his nose off, sticking an ordinary-looking prosthetic in its place with spirit gum that will be very annoying to remove later—but better a little adhesive rash than prison.

looking in his mirror at a stranger, buggy sighs, clapping his hands together. “right!” his ship needs a resupply, and buggy sailed his favorite little skiff here to take care of it so he doesn’t have to explain this disguise to his crew. “rope, sailcloth, gunpowder, food,” he mutters as he heads out. just a few essentials for any sailing vessel, nothing obviously piratical about it. a perfectly safe supply run.

a squad of marines go thumping past, and buggy can’t hold back a flinch at the sight.

he breaths in deep. this will be fine. all he has to do is not draw attention to himself, and…

“hey, you!”

buggy freezes, and fights the urge to turn around. freezing is bad enough, that would make him look super guilty. and anyway, with a call like that how could anyone possibly know who the marines are after?

“you in the hat!”

ah, fuck. buggy can’t lose the hat, that’s half his disguise gone right there. he glances back, curses under his breath when it sure looks like that squad of marines is coming for him, and makes a break for it.

“this is navy business!”

“stop!”

“like hell,” buggy mutters, rounding a corner into an alleyway. he blinks when he hears his own words doubled, and realizes there’s been someone else running from the marines the whole time. ah, shit, was he even their target after all? has he been running for his life for no reason? he turns to give the guy what for and just about chokes on his tongue, because—

well, because it’s shanks.

same stupid, distinctive hair, same stupid, distinctive hat. a cape, which is more style than buggy would have expected shanks to develop, but which is also stupid and distinctive. a pretty nasty scar over one eye. buggy takes his first reaction to that—i wouldn’t have let that happen!—and violently shoves it down into the bottom of his soul, where stupid thoughts go to die. what-ifs don’t matter, what matters is this entire guy is stupid and distinctive.

shanks gives him one of those soft-hearted, empathetic looks buggy always hated. “ah, sorry, i think i got you tangled up in my business.”

…he doesn’t recognize buggy.

good! this is good, this is—salvageable, anyway! buggy clears his throat, tries to throw his voice a little higher, speak a little more politely. anything to avoid that soft look becoming one of recognition, or that awful heartbroken look from all those years ago. “that’s okay! anything to inconvenience the marines.”

as the rhythmic sound of boots thumping gets closer, an idea occurs to buggy. “speaking of…” he grabs hold of shanks’ cape, pausing only when shanks puts a hand on his wrist and gives him a wary look. right, shanks doesn’t know him from adam like this. “sometimes it’s better to fight smarter, not harder.”

shanks considers him for a moment. he lets go of buggy’s wrist.

permission granted, buggy moves quickly. goodbye, stupid hat! flip the cape around, the lining’s a different color so that will do nicely. adjust the closure so the fabric that’s supposed to be the top hem instead functions as a hood, all the better to hide that hair and scar… sure, it probably won’t hold up to a close inspection, but who needs it to? low-level marines are idiots.

buggy leans back against the alley wall and spreads his legs wide to make himself shorter and easier to hide. when shanks doesn’t seem to get the memo, buggy rolls his eyes and tugs him closer, until shanks is standing almost too close for propriety, his cape hiding both of them from view.

hands pressed to the wall above buggy’s shoulders, shanks stares at him intently, an eyebrow going up as they hear the marines run past without giving their hiding spot so much as a first glance, let alone a second. “impressive,” he says.

buggy snorts. “naturally.”

something about this response amuses shanks, who smiles, drops one hand on buggy’s shoulder, and squeezes. “thanks for the save, gorgeous.”

buggy’s mind goes blank.

well, mostly. “gorgeous?!”

shanks frowns, though his eyes are still smiling. “don’t tell me nobody’s ever called you ‘gorgeous’ before.” buggy doesn’t react—has no idea what shanks is doing—as that hand slides up his shoulder, his neck, to cup his cheek. shanks leans just that little bit closer, taking the lack of space between them from the appearance of improper to actually improper. buggy still has no idea what shanks is doing until his thumb starts to rub small circles near the corner of buggy’s eye. “that’s just not possible. i mean, your eyes alone are stunning…”

he knows that move. shanks told him about that move, about the barmaid who’d used it on him the first time, using a compliment about shanks’ eyes as an excuse to touch his face, right before she—

it’s a very sweet kiss. probably the kind of kiss buggy would have expected of shanks, if he’d ever let himself think of things like “shanks” and “kissing” at the same time before. (face hot, it occurs to him that maybe the way he’d always violently shut down such thoughts might mean something. he violently shuts down this line of thinking.) shanks pulls back after a brief moment, a curious look in his eye that buggy takes to mean ‘more?’

whatever look happens to be on buggy’s face must say ‘no’ for him—though probably not in as insistent a tone as he’d like, his mind is still pretty fuzzy—because shanks steps back, casually giving buggy space. like of course after… that… all he wants is to fix his cape and retrieve his hat.

“wh…?” is all buggy can manage.

an eyebrow goes up, and shanks smiles a little smugly as he slides that stupid hat back into place. “like i said. thanks for the save.” and with that, he’s gone.

buggy’s knees give out.

he spends ten minutes sitting in that alleyway, definitely not remembering anything that just happened in particular detail, or wishing he’d answered an unspoken question in a different way. eventually he remembers that he has duties to attend to, and he’d better attend to them soon if he want to get off this island today.

which he does.

he certainly doesn’t have any reason to want to stick around here.

no sir.

“rope, sailcloth… limes?” suddenly buggy can’t remember the last thing on his list. well, it can’t be that important if it was the last one, right? right. surely they can go without… whatever… until after garp’s gotten tired of this part of east blue.

because buggy is never going out in disguise ever again.

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 10

wordcount: 6,437

(Sorry for the very lengthy wait I had horrible writers block and kinda didn't want to write this 🥲 TW: Massive angst ahead and traumatic situations) 

✦

   Just like that…Just like that, your worst fear came to life. The entire reason why you didn't tell anyone just happened right before your very eyes and there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Billy and Stu were gone and you were alone in the dark near that dimly lit barn. Randy ran off and never wants to see you again and everything was utterly fucked.

You didn't care at this point if Gale won a court case and took you to trial again or if everyone thought you really were what Stab made you out to be… Prison for possibly being an accomplice to murder or God knows what else they could throw at you wasn't even on your mind as much as it should be.

All you could think of was how the very few people you had left in this world would hate you. How you betrayed Randy even if you were only trying to save him and how he would never be able to trust you again. How Dewey would feel about this betrayal of hiding his sister's murderers or whatever family you had and what they would think. But right now? Randy stung the most because not only were you losing a good friend you've had through thick and thin for 10 years and on and off for 15…You were losing two 6 year olds that you loved. They were the closest thing to kids you had. And their mother, a woman that may not be your best friend, but you liked Karla. She was a friend in your eyes…And you just lost them all by one stupid mistake. One or two tiny mistakes that unraveled everything you tried so hard to hide…One dumb choice that revealed two major dumb decisions you've made; Billy and Stu. 

You were so tired. You wanted to just curl up in bed and sob your eyes out…Even if Stu and Billy stuck up for you; you didn't have them either. Billy barely tolerated you and it was kind of vice versa with how much bad blood you both had…And Stu? 

Stu was there for you a decade ago in his own fucked up way. He cared which was rare for someone like him and you tossed him away. You didn't feel you had a choice! He made so many threats and mistakes that could harm you or your friends in Hollywood. You figured it was best to cut ties! No more guilt, no more shame, no more secrets. Cut ties and pray you never see each other again…But after tonight…You really wish you could curl up into his lap right now and sob your eyes out like he would have gladly done for you a decade ago. Now? Not only were the stakes too high but a decade of you not reaching out stung enough that he moved on…

You were alone. You had nobody and no shoulder to cry on. Your lower lip wobbled as you sniffed hard to try not to cry. 

Randy wanted nothing to do with you…Billy and Stu looked at you as a thorn in their side. You were sure of it and things were too awkward now anyways…Gale was selfish as ever…Dewey changed to the point you couldn't fully trust him…You didn't even know if you could go back to Randy's house for your things. If he'd be willing to talk, even if it was him screaming at you, it was better than this. 

You could only take a few moments to cry; looking up at the sky for a moment to contemplate what to do. Vision blurry with tears.

Then you jerked when someone touched your arm. 

"Hey, there you are I can't find…" Kirby's face fell. "Oh… Are you alright?" 

You quickly nodded and turned away, wiping your tears knowing it's not the place nor time. In fact, time was of the essence now. Something she said made you pause before you turned back around to look at her. "Wait…Can't find who?" You sniffled out a bit trying to even your tone. 

"Randy. I thought he was with you? He told me to wait in the main barn but he never came back and they already killed the opening girl in the movie…Ya know, Stab on the big screen." 

You stared. "He was with me out here but…" You shook your head, mind racing. You thought he would've gotten back to Kirby. You had a sinking feeling at that as you told her. "Let's go back in and see if he's there, alright?" 

Kirby nodded and followed you.

✦

Randy felt that burning in his eyes and a lump in his throat as he tried not to cry. He had to hold it together, damn it! You were the one that did this! You were the one that lied and betrayed everyone!...And with…Them. With those bastards…The fact it was the people that killed your best friends, the guys that shot him, that killed his first love even if it was one sided, that ruined your life and made all of your lives a living hell. It just felt beyond unforgivable.

He stalked to the barn having every intention of telling Kirby to get in the car. To tell her to go drag you back to the car that you all were leaving but…He faltered when he looked at the barn and felt like he could break down any moment. Seeing the crowd of Ghostface's and loud kids. Everything screamed at him that he had to leave…He faltered before marching purposely to his car before he accidentally ran into…Judy. 

Judy looked at him. "Mr. Meeks? Everything alright? Where's YN?" 

He faltered, "Officer Hicks?...W-What are you doing here?" 

"Tracking you and YN while you both were sneaking off without a police escort…Now, where is Miss YN?" 

Randy's face soured at just the mention of your name. "...Don't know." He went to walk off and she ordered him to stay put before turning around and lecturing kids on drinking. The second she did, he stalked away mumbling. "Yeah right. Like Hell I'm staying here." 

He got to his car and looked under it, in the backseat, got in and went through the rules in his head. Breathing out to try and calm himself. "Under the car…Backseat…Rearview mirrors…Lock doors…" 

He felt a huge wave of guilt for a moment at leaving you before sneering to himself. "Stop being soft, Randy…Let Billy and Stu help her. They have all these fucking years." He grumbled to himself as his throat had a lump in it and his eyes burned.

He started his car and went to leave.

Randy didn't even make it halfway as all these angry emotions fueled him and he felt ready to just scream or wail or both. He felt like he never even knew you…His jaw clenched as he got out his phone and while driving down the long gravel driveway…He stared long and hard, almost calling you to rip your ass or tell you to get a ride with Kirby and get your shit and get out of his life. But God, the idea of hearing your voice made him sick. 

Not right now. He was too damn hurt and angry.

So…After staring at his starred favorite numbers in his contact list…He clicked on the one below yours…Dewey.

It rang a few times and he felt some righteous anger fuel him. You deserve this. Dewey deserves to know. He deserves to know how much you betrayed them and if he were to take legal action; you brought it on yourself.

As soon as Dewey picked up, Randy rushed out erratically with a crackle to his voice with unshed tears. "You were right…You were fucking right, Dew! T-Those guys…" He cut himself off with a shaky breath and clenched teeth.

Dewey was on the other line. "Randy? Randy, what do you mean? Where are you?" 

"The barn on Dilton Road. It's YN! Goddamn it, Dewey…YN…" He faltered again, just unable to get it out as he cursed under his breath.

"What?...YN?...Guys?…You mean our talk earlier? Did you see them? Who are they? Tell me and I can try to ID them and-" Dewey rambled off like the airhead he was and Randy's entire face scrunched up as he just… Hung up.

He couldn't fight the tears now as he hung up and sat his phone down…He couldn't do it. He couldn't turn you in. He couldn't tell Dewey. He just couldn't fucking do it.

He had his foot on the brake at the end of the driveway…He knew he shouldn't park there which was why he had it in drive and just braked it; ready to slam on the gas at a moment's notice if someone tried something.

…But he just…His lip trembled and he felt nothing but pain in his chest. You were his best friend, you were bonded together through the trauma as survivors, you were his kids' Godmother…At one point, he loved you in his own way…He could admit that to himself a bit. He fell in love with you or at least he thought he did till you both were together for a hot minute and he saw the whole time that you were…Distracted. Now he knew why and knowing it was Billy fucking Loomis on your brain just rubbed salt into the wound. As if him having Sidney wasn't bad enough, he had you too?! He actually did still love you but in a platonic way. He loved you like a sister. Karla was the love of his life and replaced any feeling he had for Sid or you the second he met her. It was something he thought would never happen but Karla did that. He loved you just in a sisterly way now…He might've even been closer to you than his own sister Martha…

…Just for you to do this to him? To hide something so astronomically fucked up? To lie to his face all those years? How many times were you sneaking Stu out of your back door? How many times was he there and Randy had no idea and could've died? Were you even telling the damn truth?! He had no idea and never would and that's what hurt so damn much. He couldn't trust you now.

He was trying so damn hard to reason your side of it but the pain of knowing you lied for more than 13 years and hid their identity from everyone including him stung too badly right now…Stu was at your cabin! Billy and Stu were in your fucking motel! He was only taking your word for it that you all weren't a couple or in cahoots together; he felt like he never knew you at all!

He released a frustrated yell in his car as the pain in his heart felt worse than the bullet wound he got 15 years ago. Worse than nearly dying from Mrs. Loomis 13 years ago…He was fucking devastated. Tears flowed freely as he quietly sobbed a moment before furiously shaking his head with a sniff. 

His voice was heavy and stuffy from crying. "NO!... No, I got kids and a wife…Fuck it! She's working with them? She can hitch a fucking ride too…I can't even worry about Kirby I just gotta get the fuck outta town and take a risk going to my family and fuck this shit!" 

He went to put pressure on the gas but froze when his phone rang. He frowned seeing it wasn't Dewey but an unknown number…It was you using Kirby phone for whatever reason, he just knew it. Probably a manipulation tactic just to talk to him. He hung it up…Then… It rang again.

He rolled his eyes and jerked the phone to his ear. "WHAT?! YN, I'm not fucking talking to you right now! I'm so hurt and furious and-" 

"Ooh…Trouble in the group… Randy?" 

Randy's face fell, the tears in his blue eyes feeling like they dried in an instant as he heard that voice…That damned voice…It sent a chill down his spine as he looked around; hand instinctively on the wheel as he looked around the darkness outside his car. 

"Friendships don't last forever. Sometimes, friends need to be…Cut…Off." 

He sneered as his stomach sank. "...We're really doing this right now? It's been a decade, don't you think it's time to hang it up here? I mean, Roman Bridger and Neil Prescott…You can't get more twisted than that. Pack it up and take the loss, newbie. "

"Oh but Randy. They weren't me. They were too old school wanting revenge as a motive. Mine is more modern." The voice practically purred out sadistically.

Randy rolled his eyes. "What? Fame? Money? Damn, at least Stu did it just because he liked it. You amateur edgey wannabes-" 

"Shut up or I'm gonna take that little bitch YN apart bit by bit and scatter her in your fucking front yard!" The voice angrily snapped as Randy froze. "Yeah…That's what I thought." 

He huffed before swallowing hard. "You're full of shit." 

"Am I?...Hate to call your bluff and you live with that on your conscience. Poor YN…She looks sad and scared. She's gonna die painfully, slowly, remembering that her friend hated her guts." 

He heard his phone pin, looking at it with the killer on a video call as his blood ran cold. He didn't see a killer…He saw you and Kirby walking, and unbeknownst to you both, the killer was a mere few feet away following you. 

"YN! YN BEHIND YOU-" 

"She can't hear you, Randy…Why not just watch the show as I slice her into bits? The final girl finally dies as the side character no one cares about. What a great twist." The voice chuckled darkly.

Randy panicked. "Don't!!" 

They hung up.

He almost instinctively got out of the car but quickly got a hold of himself…He wasn't leaving you. He knew they were baiting but he couldn't leave you. He put on a determined face and backed up faster than he should. Determined to get to you and Kirby. It was hard to see with only his tail lights in the dark before his heart dropped to his gut when he saw someone standing in the road and he didn't brake in time…Backing into them and over them. His car thumped as it hit someone.

Randy slammed on the brakes.

He sat there a moment in shock ... His face terrified…Did he just?...Oh God no…Oh Jesus no…What if he just ran over a teen in a mask drinking out here?...But what if he ran over the killer?...Either way…Dear God, he ran into someone!

He sat there for a moment. His breathing was labored. His palms were sweaty and he had wide mortified eyes.

He almost got out but shook his head. "That's stupid. Don't be stupid." He breathlessly mumbled to himself as his hands shook. He put the car in drive and drove in a sharp u turn so his headlights were on the figure. Slowly creeping to a halt to get a better look. Turning his high beams on to see…A mannequin. A mannequin with a ghostface mask on as its head was showing a blank white face and the mask was almost off its head. It was a goddamn prop and that meant the killer was out here. Somewhere. Watching him. 

Randy shook his head but laughed triumphantly as he drove around it back to the party. "Ha! You thought I'd fall for that?! Fuck you! Fuuucckkk you you goddamn weak ass freak!" Randy exclaimed to himself in his car as he drove. This wasn't his first rodeo and even if they weren't out of the woods. This felt like a giant 'Fuck you!' to the killers' face that they're amateur plan didn't work.

Randy tried getting ahold of his nerves, that tiny win was subdued as he realized…The killer really was here. He had to get you out of here. Anger be damned, he could give you the cold shoulder the whole way, but he still cared and you couldn't die. You just couldn't. 

He recited the rules to himself as he drove. "Rule one: Never say 'who's there?'. Rule two: Everybody's a suspect. Rule three: The killer always has a reason. Rule four: you can never have sex…Damn, ships done sailed." 

He swallowed and parked the car under an old pole light that still had that orange tint they used to have back in the day. Electricity was still being paid on even if the owner didn't live there. There was still farm equipment there in use.

He looked around but left his car. Shakily moving away with that mace you gave him in hand. "Rule five: you can never drink or do drugs…Rule..Rule six: Never say 'I'll be right back'...Because you won't be back…" 

He thought of franchise rules. "Rule one, kills are always more dramatic. Gorey and-" He gagged into a silent scream at the impact of something hitting him. No…Stabbing through him.

….

Randy faltered as his adrenaline was up but…. A searing pain hit him as he gagged and choked. He couldn't catch a breath and when he did it was a pained gasp for air. It hurt so much. He couldn't scream. Just staggered a few more feet before dropping to his knees in the grass…No one around as they were all in the main barn watching the movie. 

Randy released a cry finally, a groaning pained cry as he reached up to feel what hit him. What made moving feel impossible as he felt warm blood slowly trickling down his back…An arrow. A slim metal arrow that went deep into the back of his left shoulder almost through his collarbone at an angle. 

He was in shock but tried to get up and keep going. He forced it out of his lungs as he staggered as fast as he could. "H-H-Help! H-Help!!" He tried to wail out in a crackling voice. His body was in shock and the pain made it hard to speak before he yelped out again. A crossbow arrow missing and hitting the dirt next to his feet. He stumbled and got behind the wooden pole. 

He was too far from the barn and no one could hear him. He didn't dare even get the arrow out for fear of bleeding to death. He was being hunted like an animal right now…Against all the rules he followed it's like they didn't matter. Instead, he looked at his car and tried to go back. Running as his body could manage. If he couldn't get to the barn then he was getting in his car and going to a hospital.

He went to rush to his car when a sharp ungodly pain penetrated his side as soon as he reached it…A gagging type of gasp escaped his lips as the heat flooded his nerve endings.

He saw the mask, the robe, the knife caked in his blood still in his side before they slowly dragged it out with a tilt of their head. Randy released a strangled cry as that sharp blade slowly dragged over god knows what internal organs and seared pain through his skin.

The second the blade was mostly out; He grabbed the killer out of instinct and body slammed them against the car. His pain was there but his adrenaline was too high to focus on it. This Ghostface is shorter than he was…Robbie, Charlie, Judy, Kirby, Jill, the mom that attacked you the other day! His mind was racing at who this was as he knew he had to fight for his life now. 

As soon as he slammed them off of him and onto the car; they jerked the arrow out of him. He yelled in pain as hot blood gushed out and he instinctively grabbed the area…A feeling he hadn't felt in 13 years since he was at Windsor in that van with Billy's Mother. It knocked the wind out of him, it burned both icy and hot all at once as he dropped the mace from the pain.  They went to stab him and they missed as he was desperately lunging at the ground for the mace. 

The killer went to stab overhead as he quickly twisted on the ground and he sprayed it through the mesh eye holes of the mask. 

He heard a growling groan in a medium pitched voice; he couldn't tell if they were male or female. He didn't care right now! He had to get to the car, get to the phone, get to a hospital! He was going to bleed to death.

He kicked them away and scrambled to the car while clutching his dripping stomach only because it hurt the worst even if that arrow wound could be what makes him lose the most blood. Groaning and gasping with each movement at the horrible pain as he rushed for his life. That feeling of his own hot blood on his fingers…He had hoped he'd never feel it again.

He almost got in the car…Almost made it… when he felt a stab on his back…He couldn't even scream from the pain as a strangled gasp came out before his body fell…It was…He couldn't move, couldn't get up…It hurt so bad! He didn't know if they severed his spinal cord or hit a nerve or the pain was just that bad…

Randy's life flashed before his eyes as the masked figure loomed over top of him. All these images in his mind. His childhood in Woodsboro, him and Martha as kids, his teens and crushing on Sidney while being the dork in town, you moving in and all the fun memories the group had prior, the most traumatic night of his life, him blaming you for Sidney's death and cutting you off, his first time, college, his first girlfriend, all the Ghostface attacks and all of the fun he had with you and Dewey, meeting Karla, their first time kissing and making love and marrying…And Chad and Mindy being born. 

That last thought had him crying openingly. He had tears in his eyes as a croaking whisper sounded from him. He begged for his life. "P-Please! Don't do this…My kids need me, don't do this-" He silently sobbed while trying to backpedal or move or something if his body would allow it. 

He was able to start backpedaling. He almost got to the car door. 

The killer tilted their head almost…Taunting him. Like he actually had a chance. Before he released a gargled scream as the knife plunged into his chest. Over and over again.

✦

You gazed at the sea of Ghostface masks, heard the kids reciting Stab word for word, smelled hay and booze mixed together, felt heat radiating off of so many people in a small space. You instantly felt closed in and wanted to get out…But you couldn't. Not yet.

You moved past people, breaking through the crowd calling Randy's name. A few kids shhed you and you scoffed but ignored them.  

One was particularly pissy and Kirby turned to them with a mocking smile and muttered.  "Spoiler; Billy and Stu are the killers. The end. Fuck off." 

They groaned and cussed you out but you ignored them more. Your eyes scanned the Ghostface masks illuminated by the red party lights…It felt dizzying as you desperately tried to look for Randy's face. 

Kirby told you. "I didn't think I saw his car when we came in here. You wanna ride with me? I'm going back to my place and Jill said she might swing by with the boys." 

You were distracted. Hurt that Randy ditched you…You knew he was upset and didn't trust you weren't the killer but you didn't think he'd outright leave you alone during act 3 like this…Then again, maybe you did but it stung all the same. Your shoulders sagged as you solemnly nodded. "Y-Yeah…I'd appreciate a lift." 

You both walked out and your heart sank as Kirby was right…You didn't see his car…He left you.

Kirby scrunched her face and pointed. "Wait...Hey…Isn't that Randy's car?" 

You looked over at his car now parked in a different spot 20 feet away under the pole light…Practically touching it like he was in a hurry to park it.

You felt this dreadful feeling. Something wasn't right.

Kirby shrugged. "Maybe he just wanted to be under the light more? Ya know, murders and all." 

You knew that was true but you still had a bad feeling. "Stay here." You told her as you walked near the car. You didn't get 5 feet from it when you saw dark liquid in the grass that without the faint orange hue of the polelight you would've stepped right over. You bent down…And touched it shakily. You knew what it was, you felt a sickness overtake you but you still had to check. You brought your hand back up and saw the red on your fingertips. Still wet, still semi warm, and that metallic scent was undeniable. This was blood and god forbid…You now saw smears on the car too. There was a struggle.

'God no. Please don't be him.'

You quickly jumped up and yelled at Kirby. "Call 911! Right now! Get in the barn!" 

"Why?!" She demanded until you showed your blood smeared hand that touched the grass. 

Her face dropped. "Jesus Christ."

She went to do that when some kid yelled frantically. "Hey! Come on! It's this way!" 

You rushed over to Kirby, pulling her out of the way as a horde of teens rushed out of the barn. Rushing towards the area you and Billy and Stu talked at. You had a hold of Kirby's shoulder as you both gave each other odd looks but followed. 

Your heart thumped in your ears and your breathing quickened with each step as fear slowly gripped you more and more with each second. You expected a warning from the killer or some teen dead…Why did you all have to come here?

Kirby went up ahead of you as you stopped and called 911 on your phone. Even if you were the 20th call for this exact reason, you couldn't take that chance. Even a prank you couldn't disregard, and right now, this didn't feel like a prank.

You saw more kids rush past you and right when you went to follow to look at what it was. Kirby rushed to you, blocking the path with all the color drained from her face. 

Kirby begged you, grabbing your arm. "N-No, no, no YN. Don't." She choked out, tears in her eyes. 

You raced forward, trying to see what she was so scared of…And…You saw a human corpse hung by a rope with the barn doors wide open. Dangling 10 feet in the air.

…

You stared in so much shock…So much…Shock.

It was like a nightmare…It wasn't real…It wasn't fucking real.

There hanging from the rafters of the barn…Was a corpse that was clearly real…You saw the guts hanging a few feet below them. 

You rushed closer and clamped your hands over your mouth as a terror striken scream erupted from you. It was like you couldn't even control your own body responses now. 

You stared with wide eyed horror at what you saw…As the corpse slowly spun on the rope around his neck…And…When you saw the face. Your knees buckled. You stopped breathing. You stopped thinking. Every horrible emotion you could think of charged through you at seeing Randy Meeks hanging by a rope…Gutted…Stabbed…His eyes wide open and dead. His skin pale white almost blue from blood lose.

You just froze before you felt your breathing become just you hyperventilating. You felt like you should scream again. Scream like those women do in horror movies, some ungodly shriek to the top of your lungs. You felt like you should pass out. You felt like you should faint…But you just froze there hyperventilating as tears sprang to your eyes. You felt a pair of arms hold you close, pulling you to their chest. "Don't look! Please God, YN…Don't look." You heard Dewey choke out as he came onto the scene…You were so distraught you didn't even hear the sirens as you just realized blue and red police lights were reflecting off the barn's metal siding.

Dewey was trying to hold it together for his job but was just as shell shocked as you were. Your eyes stayed wide and unblinking as he held you…This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real!

Kirby put a shaky hand over her mouth as she looked at Randy hanging from the barn.

You suddenly felt a surge of…SOMETHING! Rage, devastation, terror. Something that made you shove away from Dewey and go forward to look. You had to see. What if it was fake? This had to be fake. This had to be fake! A horrible prank or bait or something! You heard Dewey begging you as you got as close as police would allow. They were already blocking off the crime scene…And you smelled the blood from here. You saw his eyes looking through you unfocused and glazed over. The color from his lips and face…And you knew.

You shook your head as tears leaked from your eyes and you put both hands over your face to prevent a wail from escaping. A shrieking pained wail at seeing your best friend like this. 

What snapped you out of it was hearing some teenage boys laughing and taking videos and something in you completely snapped. Without thinking you rushed towards them, smacking the ones phone out of his hands and swinging on him. You didn't give a fuck right now what charges there would be. The disrespect sent you over the edge as Dewey instantly grabbed you and you tried jerking out of his hold. Screaming in rage and wanting to do anything you could to make them stop recording. 

They turned and recorded you with shocked faces and disbelieving grins…And Kirby showed her age, playing the younger generations game by recording them instead. Uno reverse. 

Kirby yelled, hurting at seeing Randy like this too. "Wow, we feel good about ourselves douchebags?! Recording a woman grieving over her friend, you sick fucks! Maybe you're the killers and that's why you're laughing? How's this gonna look on your fucking college application, dicks?!" 

You saw them instantly stop recording, hide their faces and rush away from the crime scene as Kirby yelled after them. "That's what I thought, pussys!!" 

Dewey dragged you away with the help of another cop as Dewey shook you by the shoulders to snap you out of it. "YN!" 

Your lip trembled as you just hugged onto him and he rocked you a bit. You knew how badly he wanted to sob with you as you clung to him and cried against his body. This wasn't fair...This wasn't fucking fair. 

Dewey's voice cracked. "I-I had to hang up from Gale because of Randy calling me. He hung up on me and I rushed here as fast as I could while Gale was setting up stupid cameras in the barn trying to play hero and now she isn't answering …Damn it, Randy." His voice shook.

You realized something…Even in your grief…

Randy's words ran through your head. "No one is safe. Legacy Characters? Cannon fodder at this point. Once the Nostalgia has reached its peak? We're done! Main characters are completely expendable now. Either they die or the most fucked up shit happens to them" 

It hurt so bad. It's like he knew. No one was safe. After all these years, your luck was finally running out. 

Then Stu's and Billy's words rang out.

"Killer did it. Guarantee it. They're setting a trap and you idiots are falling for it." 

"if they're copying us; they'll kill soon. A big one. One that's going to distract people just like you did with the Principle while I entertained my party." 

It hit you…Randy was Principal Himbry. And Gale was supposedly alone in the main barn now setting up cameras.

You jerked away from Dewey and yelled at him. "Gale!" 

His eyes instantly widened in realization as you ran to the barn as fast as you could and he followed behind you. Gun ready as he screamed for his wife. You almost tripped running so fast in the grass as you rounded the corner with Dewey staggering as fast as he could behind you. 

You heard her cry out and saw a masked figure as you didn't hesitate to rush up there with your gun. "Hold on, Gale!" The second you reached up there…You looked around. Gale was scrambling against someone in the hay and you a warning shot. You saw that mask look at you and your adrenaline kicked in as you went to fire again and they dodged behind a pillar. 

You kept your gun aimed while rushing to Gale who stood up.

"You alright?" 

Gale grumbled. "I'm fine just-...WATCH OUT!" 

Dewey yelled your name from below as he finally caught up and heard the gunshots.

You whipped your gun around to fire before dodging a knife. It barely missed slashing you over the face as you gasped and stumbled back. You went to aim again and before you could pull the trigger you felt a heavy boot kick you in the sternum…It knocked the wind from you and sent you flying over the edge of the hayloft. You felt that rush of dropping with you unable to do anything but plummet. You released a pained groan when you collided on top of the drink table. Crashing onto the red cups and the punch bowl toppled over and you laid there in the middle of the table with it broken in half.

Dewey rushed in to you as you told you were fine as quickly as you could. With his gun aimed he was screaming for his wife's name as he went to climb the loft.

You tried to ignore the stiffness in your body as you jerked your gun up too…Right when you saw Gale get stabbed and roll herself off the loft as well. Bouncing off a straw bale before rolling onto the ground. Dewey aimed multiple times as a light went out and wood splintered near the pillars but he missed. You raised your revolver and fired. You saw them jerk and heard a person yell under that mask as they clutched their arm. 

You sneered to yourself and growled out. "Got you now, piece of shit." Before aiming for their head. They ducked in time and fled. 

You pushed yourself up, eager to chase after them. They had to pay…OH, they had to pay! You wanted them dead more than any other Ghostface thus far…You were so sick of this shit and seeing yourself get a shot in felt damn good. Randy would be cheering you on and that thought alone sprung more angry tears to your eyes but fueled determination in you. You pushed yourself up and sprinted to the ladder as Dewey yelled at you not to go as he ran after you.

"Damn it, YN! Don't be stupid!" Dewey's face was angry yet scared. A rare thing for him as he aimed his gun as well in the loft.

You raced to the loft with Dewey behind you just to see no one was there…Cursing to yourself under your breath realizing they had another escape route…A door swinging against the wall. You ran to it. Eager to put the remaining 7 bullets you had into this fuckers head.

You jerked the door open and looked down. The ladder kicked away and laying on the ground and no one in sight. Just cool night air hitting you as you stared. Your face twisted into contempt at the idea of Randy's killer getting away.

"FUCK!" You hissed out as you kicked a nearby straw bale in anger.

You bitterly thought the names of who you thought did this. Robbie and Charlie. They knew this barn and they knew it enough to host this party and to know all escape routes. You climbed down seeing Dewey had already practically jumped off the ladder to get to Gale. You climbed down to the ground and rushed over as you saw she was stabbed in her shoulder.

More cops swarmed in as Dewey looked up and ordered them. "Search EVERYWHERE! Every barn, the woods, cars, everywhere!!" All before his demeanor changed as he looked at his wife in concern. He put pressure on her wound with fear in his eyes. "Put pressure on that. Oh God, Gale. Honey, just hang on-" Dewey mumbled with a pained expression.

Gale put her own hand in place of Dewey's asking. "Did you catch him?" 

Dewey shook his head with a trembling voice. "No. Hopefully your cameras caught something." 

Gale informed him. "They're not the only ones. There's uh…A webcam." She croaked out in some pain. "There's a webcam; it's hidden up there. It was watching me." 

Dewey looked up instinctively and so did you. Your face soured. Just confirming who this was to you.

Dewey wasn't following. "Webcam? W-What webcam?" 

Gale drew out in a shaky breath as she held her bleeding shoulder. "He's recording the murders." 

Dewey still asked with wide eyes. "What?" 

You gritted your teeth, tears still on your cheeks from Randy's death as you drew out. "This time…He's making the movie. Even more than Roman did." 

Gale nodded at your understanding before she grimaced in pain. 

She grew serious as she winced at the pain. Choking out as sirens of an ambulance could be heard down the road. 

"…Get this fucker." 

[thesrctsoftheuniverse]

so over the weekend (literally two days) i watched 16 of the 18 episodes of season 3....... so here's my thoughts!!!!

i've already professed my love for the characters more than enough but i just need to remind everyone that i am sosososo in love with all these fucking characters, what a truly insanely likeable lineup of different personalities

eddie getting buck to babysit chris so he stops being stuck in a depressive spiral.... genius

the earthquake episodes last season were insane, but the tsunami disaster?????? off the charts. the scenes with buck and chris were fucking beautiful, i love this duo and need more of them NOW. buck cares about that kid so goddamn much. and while tired and injured he saves idk how many more people. the way him and chris are fighting for their lives and then buck is desperately looking for chris all while eddie thinks they're completely safe. eddie was freaking out last season because his son was stuck in a school, but he was calm during this disaster because he was with BUCK. it makes me so emotional. im sosososo glad that i had seen the outcome of chris being found before watching the episode bc idk how people who didnt know that beforehand could handle it. the scene with eddie finding buck with chris' glasses???? im going to start crying. and after all of that for buck being so sure eddie wouldnt trust him anymore only for him to drop off chris again like its nothing?? im going to sob

from what i have read online the lawsuit storyline is a very divisive topic in the fandom. i kind of see both sides. i can see that buck thought his hands were tied and that the only family he had was replacing him. but i know at the same time that it's an overreaction. bobby didnt have any reason to have buck stay on leave for that long when chimney proudly proclaims he went back to work after only a couple of weeks. i understand that bobby cares about buck like a son somewhat, but he was not being fair. buck also shows that he didn't really want to cause as much hurt and friction between them by apologising again and again and not even thinking about accepting the money, going back to the 118 even though he knew they were going to make it difficult for him. it was a tricky situation, but im glad they moved on from it fairly quickly.

the fight club eddie storyline is kind of wild????? also did he ever get any reporcussions from bobby for that??? men will literally do anything but talk about their issues and deal with their feelings. what an insanely gay thing to do.

love eddies conversation with bobby where he starts crying. eddie should cry more often (i say this with love)

lena im in love with you, do you like women?

chris' english teacher is sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo beautiful

i truly love seeing athena and her family grow and change over time. the relationship between bobby and michael is so important to me. i love them together. and michael's tumor storyline??? heartbreaking.

love albert!

chimney and maddie i love you two soso much you deserve the world, youre so imporant to me. chimney respecting maddies boundaries no matter what.... im gonna cry (A BABY?????????)

the episode of 911 dispatch being taken over might just be one of the best episodes of the series. i especially loved that we got to see characters that other times didnt get as much screentime. LOVE LOVE LOVE JOSH!!!

the athena begins episode is heartbreaking. and beautiful. the closure at the end, with her telling emmet's mother that they made an arrest. how beautiful. really well done. she never gave up on finding that man.

the eddie begins episode is also beautiful. him cutting the fucking rope???? idk how they want me to believe that he swam to safety but whatever..... anyways he loves chris so much and we got to see more of his and shannon's marriage which i loved. to be fair, he was kind of a shitty father and definitely a shitty husband, shannon was clearly not ok and i understand why she left. doesnt make it right, but i understand it. when he gets stuck underground and buck starts losing his mind, screaming, crying, throwing up and bobby gives him /that/ look. oh kill me now. that man was gonna dig by hand .... i love them.

the episode of buck helping that old veteran feel important and not alone at the end of his life? im going to start crying again. buck truly believes that no one will ever love him or choose him or stay with him forever.

michael talking to harry about what being black means when they encounter police was incredibly moving and heartbreaking. but also important. i just love athena's family.

hen hitting that cello girl with the ambulance...... oh i cried so hard, my heart broke for her. karen and her are so amazing together i love them so much, they truly are each other's rock.

i love the buckley siblings. i love the side characters. i love the main characters. i have so many thoughts.

abby....i understand that she had to get away from everything to find herself ok? but she shoudlve just texted or sent a letter to buck just to give him closure and not let him keep haunting her apartment. i dont like them as a couple, this shit has clearly hurt buck deeply and will not be easy for him to get over. she didnt really seem all to apologetic either at the end. i get it but also why did u have to hurt buck by not ever responding and ghosting him????

got so many funny and beautiful scenes this season, it was amazing!!! truly loved every character. it had that gay ass buddie kitchen scene... lol

but anyways....im already done with two episdoes of season 4 so bye

[apostateoverrubies]

You know, I am fucking grateful that I was born in the 2000s. Like, the only fucking decade I wouldn't mind being born in is the fucking 1990s and that's purely because the internet would still be there just in time to shape me as a person.

I don't want to be that fucking person who thinks they want to be born in decades like the 80s, 70s, 60s etc because I know I'm purely in it for the aesthetic.

If I were born around those decades, I'd be a much different person and I would hate the person I'd become.

This is why I hate it when people from older generations romanticize their childhoods, talking about how everything was so good and everyone was so nice to each other etc.

When I look back at my childhood with what I know now, I realize there are a lot of fucked up things about it.

How Christianity has been shoved down our throats since preschool even though it wasn't tied to any church and some children weren't Christian at all.

How my dad beat me mercilessly with a belt because I was unable to recite Gentle Jesus on my own. Prayer is important was his reasons. But I was still in preschool.

How grown-ups would threaten to cut off my thumb because I hadn't yet stopped sucking it.

How I was pretty much allowed to not do anything up until my late primary school years yet the grown-ups in my life blamed me for their lack of effort.

How I only had one true friend in primary school because contrary to what some adults would have you believe, not everyone was friendly and kind, especially when you were the weird kid.

I can go on and on because it doesn't end there.

Sure, I have my gripes on certain things about this generation and there are things about my childhood I love.

But I'm grateful that folks in my generation and the ones after have internet access. It's not perfect obviously. Plenty of bad stuff happen on the internet.

But it was thanks to that internet access that I was able to be the person I am now. Because when the internet is good, it's REALLY good.

I've met my dearest friends on there, I found tutorials that help me improve my skills, I found things that challenged the views my culture tried to force down my throat that led to me not only coming to terms with and embracing my sexuality and femininity.

I recently left religion behind because I was able to learn how much it didn't make sense and conflicted with my morals.

I was able to become more compassionate than I had ever been I could see the injustices people have to suffer and I learned to understand people I would've scoffed at if not outright discriminated against.

Anyways, I'm done rambling now. It's funny how people think the internet makes us appreciate life less but I am so fucking grateful for being alive right now.

[fourswords]

pls tell me ur thoughts on mc link and ezlo. PLEASEEE

where the hell do i even begin. where the hell do i even Begin. ezlo is my favorite loz companion (with spirit tracks zelda coming at an extremely close second. they're almost tied) and it's just because of the sheer amount of pure unadulterated FUN dialogue between him and link that showcases so so so much of both their personalities.

for starters ezlo is colloquially known as a crabby old grandpa of a companion who constantly yells at link. And like. He is. 100%. He is quite literally squawking at link as loudly as his beak allows. He's even got a sound bite that plays specifically for that reason. but i think because of this (and because so much of his dialogue is optional) it becomes easy to forget that a) he really does like link. he absolutely fucking loves his company. link became HIS "little hero" in the span of about five minutes. he is CONSTANTLY fussing over him and it's so incredibly obvious how much he cares about him. and b) ezlo is a minish who is completely out of his depth in the hylian world. And He Acts Like It.

this post gets a bit long just because of the sheer amount of dialogue i have backing my points because ezlo talks so much. so. under the cut it goes!

dialogue for point a:

"Look at all these shops! This is so different from a Minish village! I-I-I… I can't decide where to go next! Come on, my boy! Let's go shopping!"

"Oh, hey! I totally forgot! That sword technique you learned from the swordsman… The Spin Attack, that's what it's called, right? That is so incredible! Do you think you could teach it to me sometime? Hm?! Hey! Don't give me that look! I can do anything that you can do! Just give me some arms, and I'll show you what's what!"

"These Mountain Minish sure are hard workers! We should work just as hard and sing a spiffy little song, like they do! What do you think? Hey! Kid…? Are you still listening to me?"

"Link, how long has it been since you left home? Your grandfather must be worried. Why don't you show your face at home? He must have plenty of news to share with you by now."

"It's nice taking in the view from up here and all, but... I'm thinking maybe I should be a little higher up by now... What I'm trying to say here, kid, is... have you been drinking your milk?"

"That element is sure to be protected by traps inside those ancient ruins! Link, be careful!"

"Minish people are very interested in human ways. I think they watch the people in town very closely. They've probably been watching you, too, without your knowing it. Hey, Link, careful what you say and do when you think you're alone!"

"That tornado near Veil Springs took us to this cloud world! Can you believe it? I don't know what awaits us next, but I can't wait to find out! … … Hm? Hey, Link!! Don't get all scared on me now! Show me some spirit, lad! Let's enjoy ourselves!"

"Link! What's the matter? Are you nervous? That's no good! We need you relaxed and ready! Take a deep breath and exhale slowwwwly... Just stick to what you know, and I'm sure we'll come out just fine."

"Link! Where are you? Are you still there under me? It's so dark, I can't see my beak in front of my face! Watch your step! I don't want you to trip over anything…"

"Link, I know this may not be a great time for it, but... I wanted to say thanks for everything you've done. I'm very grateful for-- Hm? What? You're freaked out? You're not used to me being nice!? Fine, then! Forget I said anything!"

"Hm... You know, I hadn't noticed, because I'm with you all the time... But you've grown to be quite a powerful young lad. I just wanted you to know... Anyway, let's get moving, Link!!"

"We make a fine team, don't we? Why, I might just stay up here forever! After all, I've grown quite used to my little "ringside seat" to all the action! And you'd never have to worry about combing that mess of a hairdo again! What do you say to that, Link?"

"Oh, NOW you need me? I was starting to think you'd forgotten that I was even up here! ...I was starting to get a little lonely."

"What's happening to the source of the water? There shouldn't be anything but blue sky up there! Well, no point sitting around thinking about it! … … Hey, I just realized something. I'm starting to think…and talk… a lot like you lately! What's with that? I need to get my head straight!"

"We will get through this! We have all of the techniques and power you've gained in your journey! And we have your wisdom and courage as well! Link! I believe in you!"

this isn't even all of it. i put so many examples here and this isn't even ALL OF IT. ezlo genuinely likes being with link so much that in the event that he would've stayed a hat forever he wouldn't have even minded. he literally goes "i might just stay up here forever!" he's happy hanging out with him! he's constantly telling him to be careful or watch his step! he reassures link when he gets nervous or scared! he frets over the fact that link isn't growing very fast (which is hilarious depending on how long the minish cap lasts in-universe. we know it lasts at least a month because of another piece of dialogue—"I hid a little eggy snack in your hair about a month ago [...]"—but i already made that post yada yada). for all my talk about the hilarity of link being so independent & competent that all the adults including ezlo are like "yeah he's got this" in this game (to the point where ezlo literally goes "Just figure it out for yourself, you big baby!" lmao) he IS still very much a child—and a YOUNG child at that, to be able to see the minish. and the dialogue gives us proof that there are moments during the adventure where he gets a bit freaked out every now and then, and it says a lot that ezlo is very very quick to both pick up on it and address it like he does (in his own to-the-point way). and link checks up on him in turn!

"This weather's miserable! I think I'm catching a cold… Ah…ah…achoo! Oh, don't worry about me, Link. I'm sure I'll be just fine… Sniffle…"

"Yes? What's the matter, m'boy? What? You were just checking up on me? What's that about!?! You think I just sit on your head, waiting at your beck and call? I can't believe it! Grumble, grumble…"

...and with his own brand of sass, of course:

"Man, I could really go for a nice, hot bath right now... Huh?! What's that?! You'd send me to the cleaners!? What makes you think you can treat me like common laundry, huh?"

at his core ezlo IS a grumpy old grandpa but he is still so so caring and it honestly makes me wonder about when vaati was still his student because, as ezlo says:

"Vaati was only a boy when I took him on as my apprentice. But... he became enchanted by the wickedness in the hearts of men."

vaati was a kid too when ezlo took him on as an apprentice and however young vaati may also still be he is still definitively older than a child now (even referring to link as "a child", i.e. implying that he isn't, when link defeats his transfigured form). and like. ezlo vehemently and without hesitation renounces vaati and his evil ways multiple times throughout the game and outright blames himself for what he's become ("Hyrule Castle has grown dark… Perhaps this repulsive scene… is just a reflection of the evil lurking in the heart of my former student. … … Ah, what have I created? But don't worry about me, Link! I know what we must do!!") but his consistent calls for vaati to just WAIT ("Wait! Vaati, wait!!!"/"Wait! Why won't you wait?! Vaati!!!") kind of make it seem like he would forgive him if vaati just Stopped. and that tracks. you don't take a child on as an apprentice and watch him grow and turn an apparent blind eye to his ever-growing love of evil (VAATI IS NOT EXACTLY DISCREET ABOUT ANYTHING) and just lose the care you had in your heart for him overnight. it could be likely that the reason ezlo fusses over link now is because he did the same for vaati once upon a time, or maybe he feels as though he didn't do it enough—he specifically states that he doesn't take students on very often (but tells him that he figured he could make an exception for him) and quite frankly, and we're getting into pure speculation on my part here, it might be likely that link—in his own way—reminds ezlo of vaati if vaati never became what he did. or ezlo saying that link reminds him of a young HIM ("You remind me of a young me.") could be the end of it. either way...i think it's something interesting to consider.

ANYWAY back to my dialogue for point b) ezlo has no idea what the fuck he's doing at any given time because he's a minish who spent his whole life in the minish world, NOT the hylian world, and is totally out of his depth):

"A strange nut that will allow us to understand the Minish language… The Jingle Nut, did he say…? No, wait… That's not it… Ah, I remember now! It was the Jabber Nut. That's what it was… Come on, my boy! We've got to find the Jabber Nut!"

"Have you ever visited Hyrule before? What? You have? ...What's it like? Not that I... I mean, I've seen it before! Of course I have! I'm very well traveled. I just wanted to see...what you thought of it!"

"What? You're lost again, aren't you? Have you bothered reading any of those signs we've been seeing? You really ought to study them. They might have some useful information! …Not that I've been reading them either…"

"Hm? Whoa! It…blew up? Hey, kid! Look at where that stone used to be… There's some strange symbol on the ground. Yes, of course … Why, that must be… …Well, I haven't the foggiest, to be honest. Hm…"

"Have you noticed something odd about the Mountain Minish? They're just a little different from the Forest Minish, aren't they? There seem to be many kinds of Minish, just as there are many kinds of human. And…many kinds of hat, too. Mustn't forget the hats."

"So! We must infuse the White Sword with the elemental power. That means we must find the elemental sanctuary. And the way we do that is... Um... Well, I'm sure we'll figure it out!"

"Hey, Link. I've been up here for a while, and I've been wondering... I know about hats now, but I don't know much about Hyrulean shoes... Where could we go to learn a little more about that?"

"There are some strange creatures on Mount Crenel… Creatures I've never seen before, and your sword alone won't beat them! Don't give up hope, though! Try your other items on them! Well…you don't need me to tell you how to do your job. Just deal with those monsters, and I'll take care of everything else."

"So there are three books that we're supposed to return, right? Link, I'm sure you can handle it! Don't get me wrong! I'd love to help! But I'm a great Minish sage! I don't understand your big, human ways! So…I'm counting on you!"

again, those aren't even all the examples i could pull out, but you get the gist. the last quote is funny because the context is just returning library books but i really think it sums up the situation that ezlo's in: he came to the hylian world to help, but 1. he's a hat, and 2. he literally does not know what the fuck is going on ever and does have to rely on link for absolutely everything, which is why you have the dialogue of him that i listed earlier of him genuinely trying to thank link before link is like "STOP BEING WEIRD OLD MAN" and he's like fine okay whatever damn. it's a different spin on the "Every Fucking Adult In This Game Is Like 'Yeah Link Can Handle This By Himself No Problem' Including The Goddamn Mayor" because. well. ezlo has no choice but to trust link to handle it! and handle it link does! he could probably stand to be a little nicer about the fact that he doesn't know what's going on or how to help but then he wouldn't be ezlo, now would he? and it's not as if link minds—he may be a child but he's a wise child, according to ezlo himself, and there's nothing in the dialogue of the game that suggests that he's ever hurt or put off by ezlo's bluntness/tough love-esque mannerisms. if anything, he thinks it's funny and responds in kind (the hilarious little "i'll send you to the cleaners" comment i included earlier). so i think because of this, despite ezlo's grumpy grandpa-ish nature, the relationship between link and ezlo is less "adopted grandpa & adopted grandson" and more just. friends! they're friends! they worry over each other, they snark at each other, and they care for each other. link is ezlo's little hero that he creates a cap out of thin air for just so link's "rat's nest" of a head of hair isn't showing to the world ("You know, your hair's always really messy... A real rat's nest... As long as I'm up here, no one will ever need to know. You can thank me later.") and ezlo is link's funny hat friend who his sprite still chases after of its own accord when ezlo disappears back into the minish world at the end of the game because he doesn't want him to go. there's a lot more i could say about them but that last line pretty much sums it up, i think.

[misc-obeyme]

HI HELLO IM BACK, I HAVE MY NOTES WHEEE. I had to go back and re-read where i left off. ajsjd idk if anyone else is waiting for updates on my silly little poly story but here is the next part

I mention this diner that's open, and Solomon cuts in like "That's right, didn't you say they had the best cake batter milkshake you've ever had? And I recall you gushing about the food, specifically the mozzarella sticks." "It's the same one ya showed the menu off to us and how they had 20 something flavors, ain't it?" "And Mammon, you wanted to try the cinnamon one, right?" *Cue Mammon looking perplexed*"Sol, wha... Yeah, I-I mean, how the hell did you remember that? I said it so long ago.." "It's easy to remember the things my favorite people enjoy. :]"

How to make two people tsunderes short circuit 101. I'd like to think this is the realization for both me and Mammon about Solomon. Mammon does his little scoff and tries to play it off and it backfires, "So what you're sayin' is, I'm always on your mind?" "Hm. Yes. That feels accurate." "EH?!?" Meanwhile, I'm definitely trying to tamp down the feeling and shove it in a box.

Basically Mammon is "Oh. Oh." and I am "Oh. Oh. Aw, fuck."

okay but Mammon drives us to the diner and we sit in a booth, and they're sitting on the same side and we each other a milkshake and fries to share !! Mammon takes a fry, throws it in the air, and catches it in his mouth. Unfortunately it's hot as hell since it's fresh so he's fanning his mouth and dying internally, peak dumbass. Solomon and I can't help but laugh, and I find myself laughing a little too hard and oh. There's this realization that feels like a cold bucket of water and I'm all "Oh. Oh.. Oh, shit." because HELLO? WHY CAN I FEEL THE FONDNESS IN MY OWN GAZE WHEN I LOOK AT THESE TWO DORKS, MY FACE FEELS HOT, AAAA.

I immediately rip open my straw and focus on my milkshake, trying to convince myself I'm in a silly goofy mood. And idk why, but I can't stand cherries. Cherry flavored things? Awesome. Cherries? No. So i end up placing the cherry on a napkin but I keep the stem (you know where this is going). Solomon sneakily takes the cherry, as Mammon is already sipping his cinnamon shake (definitely horchata flavored).

Solomon pops the it into his mouth at the same time I present the cherry stem now tied into a knot on the tip of my tongue, and suddenly both of them are flustered and choking. (I've only been able to do this once irl, BUT I CAN SAY I'VE DONE IT)

Anyway I'm stuck between laughing so hard I snort, and reaching my hands out towards them both across the table in concern. I try calming myself down, but one look at their red cheeks and I'm a mess again. I think Mammon would flick me on the forehead and say something about my milkshake melting if I don't stop giggling. We end up leaving slightly after 2 am.

We're all in the car, Mammon is driving along the highway. Stars are out, windows down, and the radio is blasting. And then fall out boy comes on !! Because when that band plays, I turn into a different person.

Of course I'm giddy as hell, and Mammon even reaches over to turn it up. You know what's playing? Favorite Record (that just feels like such a fitting song). Mammon and Solomon's eyes meet in the mirror, and there's no words spoken, but everything was said. Because Mammon said he was just playing stuff from his liked songs. Which means, he either lied and made a playlist for tonight OR he started listening to them because I enjoy them so much (it's the second reason)

And in the beginning, I was kinda humming and mumbling the lyrics as I progressively get more confident. But when it got near the chorus, I can't help myself. Suddenly I'm happily singing along, loud and unashamed.

Mammon feels his heart stutter. The roads are empty, so he sneaks a glance at me. And he wonders if this is love, or the beginnings. Because oh. Oh. He's never seen me so carefree. This is his realization moment. And he vows to get to know more songs if it means having another moment like this. Solomon is in the backseat, recording because he's never seen me so energetic before (unless I was gushing about an interest, but there's still a sense of hesitation when I do). Don't mind him, he's making a mental note to google karaoke clubs.

I'm partly embarrassed when the song ends, but no one says anything, so I calm down pretty quickly. It's not long before we arrive at Mammon's apartment/shop. Solomon and I grab our things from the trunk, and follow Mammon inside.

okay that's it for now !! sleepover is next !! i think playlist drama comes after ?? I can't remember. This got long ajsjd. Also I'm making an outline of the songfic, so the bullying kinda worked. I was daydreaming about it on the bus. It WAS gonna be a Mammon pov thing about my mc or maybe reader, but now I'm like 🤨 what if... solomams.... the lyrics fit more for them together... I could write two fics but they'd be basically the same with minor differences. Hmm. Who knows. We'll see. Also my friend/coworker made me some decorations to put on my bag that were solomon and mammon inspired 😭 so sweet. OKAY BYEEE I'M FR DONE NOW AJSJD

- ✨ anon

Ahhhhh Solomon flirting with you two is the cutest thing EVER.

Also who do I have to kill to get a horchata flavored milkshake?? Because that sounds like the most delicious thing I've ever heard of in my life.

I am LIVING for these realization moments!! You singing your heart out to one of your favorite songs a;ldskjfljkdfjkdf

This is so cute I'm dying! I don't know about everybody else, but I am fully invested in this story and I will not be satisfied until I know how the whole thing goes!!

You've fully converted me into a solomams shipper, too, by the way. It's because I just LOVE the way Solomon teases Mammon in a flirty way, that is seriously so cute! But I gotta say, it's even better with your MC involved...

I await the sleepover with baited breath!

[gay-jesus-probably]

you also have to consider that i don't think Zelda had a lot of high thoughts about herself because of everything her father told to her, it's pretty clear she thinks of herself a failure not fit to save anyone or even be a royal in botw especially the closer to the calamity we got in the memories. if they just had her and link go around hyrule helping people (which is what I assume they did) in the timeskip they should attribute people liking her so much to her being helpful and literally fending the calamity off for 100 years instead of being royalty, which they could have done easily because it's pretty obvious she did go around hyrule to help (the school is a pretty good example)! it would make zeldadorf going around being malicious way cooler as link has to clear her name around Hyrule

Yeah, Zelda's helpful and all the level of obsession the NPC's in the world have with Zelda doesn't at all match up with all the (fairly basic) nice things she's done, and ESPECIALLY doesn't work with how everyone is totally cool with Fake Zelda raising hell. Ensuring that one village has an elementary school should not generate enough goodwill to let people forgive brainwashing and attempted murder. Not to mention the long list of Good Deeds she apparently has time for is just... bizarre, and a sign that she's actually a pretty crappy leader considering she has zero time management skills. Like lady, you're rebuilding a fucking kingdom after a century long apocalypse, I really don't think you should be spending your time teaching people how to cook random recipes and helping to plant flower gardens. And the random carved little monuments for everyone who died in the Calamity also strike me as just... no. You can commission the fancy monuments later, everyone fucking knows it happened right now. Hell, why don't any of the villages have memorials for the Calamity victims, they're the ones that actually had to deal with the immediate aftermath. Having Zelda place generic memorials everywhere just makes me wonder why the hell there aren't any old memorials made by survivors in the immediate aftermath, in the places where people actually live and can visit them.

Also while I know all of the memorials having a respawning silent princess flower on them is just the game continuing to be wildly unsubtle about "look this flower represents zelda DO YOU GET IT GUYS", from an in-universe perspective it's absolutely hilarious. Those flowers are extremely endangered, and not even the best pre-calamity conservation efforts were enough to help. They're STILL very fucking endangered, and were believed to be extinct! They canonically cannot cultivate this plant, it's very rare and only grows in the wild... which is why they're picking these extremely rare flowers to use as decoration on a memorial. And now you can't find them growing in any of the spots they used to florish in, except the Lost Woods. They're not even tied to the fairy fountains, because there's none of them growing around the new fountain locations. I like to think that Zelda decided to make all the stupid memorials and have a silent princess flower left on each one, and so her loyal followers have been replacing all the cut flowers every time they wither, and as result the silent princess flower is on the verge of extinction again. I know it's not what the game was trying to say, but it's the logical conclusion to make - people have been picking this very endangered plant all over the country, and now you can't find it anymore. And also it's a really funny mental image that Zelda was so concerned about their conservation back in BOTW that she spent a whole memory talking about it, but now she's having them picked en-masse to make sure her vanity project has the correct aesthetic. I hate Zelda in TOTK for many reasons, but her new habit of intentionally killing an endangered plant is easily the funniest problem the writing accidentally gave her.

Anyways as for her mental state before the Calamity, I do see that as being very complicated. She's got a lot of Issues, mainly stemming from her family, religion, stress and powers. No need to go over all that though, as I think everyone has long since analyzed that to hell and back. BUT at the same time, while her personal life is fucking miserable, we can't ignore that she's still literally the crown princess of an extremely powerful nation, and has spent her entire life being told that she is fundamentally a better person than everyone else. She was being emotionally abused by her father, but that does not change the fact that she's incredibly privileged, and doesn't seem particularly aware of that fact. I mean fuck, the BOTW memories show Zelda had a habit of actively trying to lose her bodyguard and run off alone into the wilderness on a whim. And when said bodyguard caught up with her (with zero judgement or displeasure), her only reaction was to emotionally abuse him. She genuinely did not seem to understand or care that it's a universally bad idea to let an unarmed teenager run off alone into the monster infested wilderness, with nobody knowing where she's going or when she'll be back. And that's without taking into account people actively trying to kill her.

All of that behaviour right there is just a combination of teenage dumbassery and Zelda being extremely privileged. She lives in a world without any serious consequences, why would she need to learn self preservation? And her abusing Link was a hell of a lot more serious than the fandom likes to see it as. Being a knight is literally his lifes work, he's been training since he was a small child, he has no idea how to support himself in any other way. And he answers directly to the reigning monarch, which is currently King Rhoam... but in the very near future would be Zelda. If he doesn't follow Rhoam's orders to be Zelda's bodyguard, he's fired and his life is ruined. If he does follow his orders, he's angering Zelda, and then in the future she'll probably retaliate by firing him, and his life will be ruined. I absolutely hate that most of the fandom has decided Link was reacting to the verbal abuse with just "wow she's so smart and pretty, what a girlboss", because that's completely insane (and in the context of shipping, wildly unhealthy for Link). I see Link silently tolerating Zelda's harassment as just him desperately trying to minimize how much she hates him, because she can absolutely destroy his life on a whim, and her actions all suggested she will absolutely do so. Princess Zelda does not want Link to ever exist in her presence; why the fuck would she want to keep him employed after she becomes Queen?

...To be clear, I think all of this is a good thing. I mean, Zelda being a privileged little shit and coping with stress by abusing her personal servant are very negative traits for her as a person, but as a character I really like it! These are very serious flaws, but they're understandable - she's not a total bitch because she's pure evil, she acts like a bitch because she's a stressed teenager lashing out at the easiest target, and she genuinely does not realize how harmful her actions are. I liked that the game wasn't afraid to show us an uglier side of Zelda, and trusted the audience to understand that she was more than just her worst impulses. I think the closest we've ever gotten to that was Skyward Sword Zelda admitting that she pretended to be in grave danger to manipulate Link into doing her dirty work, and he should not be okay with that... but that wasn't quite as nuanced, because that was more Zelda literally being a god in mortal form, and doing something morally sketchy for the Greater Good. BOTW Zelda is just a person that hurt someone because it was an easy way to make herself feel better. It gives her a depth that very few Zelda's have been allowed to have.

And it really bothers me that apparently all of that is just gone in TOTK. Zelda, who is inexplicably still a princess for some reason, is the unquestioned almighty ruler of Hyrule. The Zora King and Gerudo Chief both swear eternal subversience to her in the ending, and Zelda happily accepts their submission as just what she is rightfully owed. When she's in the past she feels completely entitled to declare that Link will finish the battle for them, even though the last time she saw him he'd lost his entire fucking arm and was falling to his death, and also the entire situation is very political, and she has no idea which side Link would interpret as being correct. For fucks sake, she stole his goddamn house, made extensive renovations, added a large second room for herself, and still did not allow him to have any space in there. They're not sharing that bed, shippers. Link just does not live there anymore. That's why one of the TOTK sidequests is... Link getting a house again, on the other side of the country from where Zelda is living. The game repeatedly tells me that Zelda is actually the single bestest person who ever lived, but she never shows any real consideration for the wellbeing of someone who isn't Rauru, Sonia or Mineru... apart from the opening where she expresses concern that Link was seriously wounded by slapping three keese with his sword and killing them instantly. Which is more condescending than anything else.

And as I think I've mentioned before, all the apparently great and noble deeds Zelda performs are done with the overall goal of ensuring the Kingdom of Hyrule continues to exist under the control of the royal family. She's the current reigning monarch, so literally all of this is for her own benefit. There's nothing wrong with doing good things that also benefit you, of course, but once again the game constantly insisting that Zelda is a perfect selfless martyr... doesn't really track with the fact that she's the only one with a real motive to want Hyrule to remain under her rule. Everyone else has been getting by just fine without her for the last century, and Zelda going missing at the start of a crisis doesn't really cause any issues with leadership; things keep running smoothly, the only issues that ever show up is from Zelda not being there to do specific tasks she said she would do, like help plant a flower garden. Idk, it just leaves a really bad taste in my mouth; there's absolutely no reason for Hyrule to be a monarchy post-calamity, and the fact that everyone is so fanatically loyal to Zelda makes me feel like she's actively working to keep herself on the throne because she wants the power. If her first priority was being a good leader, people wouldn't be scared to question her.

But I'm with you on the Puppet Zelda plotline being wasted, it's like the whole thing was just there bcause the devs realized the main story quest (regional phenomenon) had nothing to do with the supposed main quest (find zelda), and just threw in a fake zelda to chase so the players would feel like they were making progress on that, but couldn't be bothered to make the fake zelda subplot have any consequences. That or they were just cowards with no faith in the audience, and figured if the fake Zelda's actions made NPC's express fear and hatred for the real one, the player would also be convinced that the real Zelda was bad. Which is ironic, considering the NPC's refusing to express any negative thoughts about the fake Zelda is a massive red flag about what the real one is like, and has convinced a lot of the audience not to like her.

[thediktatortot]

Eddie/Billy Omegaverse kidfic

Eddie and Billy find out they probably shouldn't have tried to use the pullout method.

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending, Beta Eddie, Omega Billy

AO3

1,964 words

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Billy always thought he was an only child, but after he and Eddie get a little lax with the protection and he realizes he's pregnant he soon finds out that twins run in his family according to the hospital records that get sent over from California when he goes for his first appointment in Indianapolis.

Not having known that he had a twin at birth who didn't make it, his mom and dad having never told him about it because it was hard for the both of them anyway and they didn't feel the need to let Billy know. He doesn't know why Neil never used it against him, never told him about the brother he'd somehow killed or it was all his fault.

Billy will probably never know why Neil didn't say anything and to be completely honest? He's tired of feeling so tied to Neil, always second guessing himself and putting himself down all the time because of him.

He want's to forget Niel. He wants to go out and live his fucking life without giving a shit what he thinks about him. It's a scary thought but he's so tired of trying to keep a relationship with his dad that's never going to get better.

By the time it would take to get better between them Billy might actually be in a happier place by then if he just finally cuts the cord and lives his fucking life. Neil be damned. He can do his own shit with is own life, Billy doesn't want or need his attempts at "doing better".

Neil's the reason he never considered himself the Omega type, never having felt in touch with that part of his body and frankly didn't care too until recently, wanting to stop feeling so ashamed over the things other people do all the time.

It takes almost fifteen minutes of Billy panicking silently in the closed off room before he asks the nurse to get Eddie.

Billy feels nauseous even as Eddie steps into the room, the two catching each other's eyes. They don't really say much, neither knowing what to do as they check out and get back into Eddie's van. Billy barely heard the nurse's voice as she tried to give him information as they left.

Eddie is a mixture of both fear and joy.

He's never been a "kid guy", but there's a deep seated desire that he's always had in the wake of his own father's lack of fathering that he always felt that he wanted to change for someone else. "Be the change you want to see" sort of thing he holds deep in his heart that his little metal Head persona has paved over in order to look cool and survive through Highschool.

Now he just feels sort of nauseous, the reality of whats happening is frightening on so many different levels. Billy looks about the same, a little green around the gills and a bit wide eyed.

Eddie's only 24 and Billy's only 21, almost 22 in a few months.

They have only one argument. Not really even an argument, more of a few seconds of fear that makes Billy bark out "What the fuck am I going to do?" before hitting the dash and Eddie to jump and snap, "I don't know!"

They leave off in silence after that, the two of them stewing silently in theor own minds as they both see the end of their years as young guys with no cares in the world coming to a halting stop right before their eyes.

Billy wants to find happiness in the moment, wants to know that this shouldn't be such a bad feeling, but he can't help but want to get out of the car and cry out in anger, throw a tantrum or something like a kid. That's how he feels at least still, like a kid, not old enough to feel as though he's experienced life in any truly adult way, but also young enough to have thought he was adult enough to play around like he did.

He didn't really think about the consequences. Adults think about consequences and Billy does not feel like he's earned the title of adult, even if he hates to admit that.

Eddie's practically vibrating in the drivers seat, nervous energy washing off him in waves as he berates himself in his head for being so stupid.

He should have known better.

He should have thought about these things.

He should have been smarter, should have taken the fucking time to slow down and not just get into things without thinking like he never does.

He shouldn't have let his dick get the say in things and he definitely shouldn't have gotten Billy into this because now Billy's going to discover how much of a useless piece of shit he is.

Eddie knows he's freaking out and he knows he's just projecting the things everyone says about him onto himself, but it's a part of himself he has a hard time fully accepting. But it's the part of him that wants to live life and experience things, wants to be smart and loved and admired for the things he does, knowing he deserves just as much as the next guy.

It's also why he wants to be so cool all the time, why he wants people to see a facade he puts on. He doesn't want people to see he's a total fucking scaredy cat when it comes to anything serious.

Billy just feels numb now. Eddie feels like he's going to explode.

Eddie drops Billy off at home, Neil is mostly out of the picture after Billy was holed up in the hospital after shit went down those years ago, now he gives Susan a hundred bucks a month and pays for his own food and shit. His room is about as small as his closet when they lived in California, but he often ends up falling asleep at Eddie's now a days.

"I'll...call you, okay? Tonight? Can you let me...can tell me-" Eddie says after he parks the van in front of Billy's house and a few seconds of silence pass.

"I think I need a few uhm....days, to..." Billy just needs to be alone for a little bit, needs time to hide from everyone for at least a day. He feels overwhelmed and he knows he's not long from making a fucking fool of himself in front of Eddie and probably everyone in the trailer.

"I need to just, think about this...on my own for- for a few days."

Eddie feels cold flush down him like ice-water, the feeling of rejection pressing hard at his throat. He gets it, he knows Billy. He knows Billy needs alone time and probably just needs to let off some steam.

"Okay." He nods, voice tight as Billy nods quietly in return and gets out, leaving Eddie to head home alone.

It takes two days for Billy to let reality sink in and to accept his new place in life.

He's gotten good at accepting whatever comes his way while growing up in the life he had, and he doesn't see any reason that it can't work for this.

The only reason this time feels different is because he's trying to convince himself to be happy for once.

He's always had his dream of getting out from under Neil, doing whatever it is he ended up doing just to prove to Neil he would survive on his own. He usually used this dream to keep him from doing something reckless in retaliation to Neil so he could go on living another day, just needing to get buy until...until one day he'd be on his own.

He didn't expect it all too happen so quickly.

It takes a third day for Billy to come out on the other side of things, having almost bitten off Max's head a handful of times and snapped at Susan.

He apologized a few hours later, the Neil shaped voice in his head telling him to apologize having turned into his own guilty and ashamed voice pretty recently.

He calls Eddie and tells him to come pick him up, their going driving.

Eddie's there in less than thirty seconds, probably sitting by the phone for the last thre days. That and they only live a few trailers down from each other.

Billy gets in the van and takes a deep breath as Eddie's getting the van in gear, and unable to sit in silence any longer, Billy just goes for it.

"Let's move in together. Just the two of us."

Eddie grinds the gears but their driving, Eddie looks a few parts surprised, scared and excited all at the same time. "Okay...but...uhm Eddie says nervously, "Wouldn't it be more...uh, cheaper for the both of us to stay at our families houses?"

Billy wants to snap at Eddie but he can't seem to find the energy too.

"What's the point? Constantly living in our fucking families fucked up trailers trying to raise two kids with everyone breathing down your back the whole time?" Billy takes a deep breath and adjust in his seat, his face beat red as if he's admitting to something he shouldn't be scared to admit.

"I don't want that man, I don't want anyone judging me for everything I do and I'm already gonna have you around who's going to so far up my asshole the whole time- don't even try to deny it, you were smiling when you walked into that room the other day." Billy can feel his cheeks tense as he holds his smile back.

He feels like he should feel bad or guilty about even attempting to be happy in this situation, guilty the most, like what he's feeling is taboo to him because he never felt like he was allowed to be himself.

Never allowed to feel like he liked himself either.

He's liked Eddie for a while now, finally having the nerve to admit that fact to Eddie even if in a round about way.

Eddie wants to stay scared, wants to keep pittying himself like he normally does but he can't muster the feeling while looking at Billy against the sunny backdrop of the van window, his golden hair glowing in the light.

Eddie can feel Billy's nervous excitement rolling off him, saw the little twitch of his lip as he held back a smile and can't stop staring at those blue eyes that always feel so expressive. He's feeling like he's never wanted to step out into the sun and burn for someone so much as he does right now.

It's a romantic thought and Eddie can't help but grin goofily and cover his mouth. It feels good actually. Feels really good. Billy's cheeks are tight as he fights back a smile, both of them let out a shy laugh.

"Stop laughing!" Billy is smiling as he hits Eddie on the arm, hard, the two of them devolving into a fit of laughter as Eddie swerves.

"Oh come-...okay maybe that's fair."

"Stop it you dickhead! I'm fucking driving all of us now." Both of them are smiling, the van silent as get their heads in order.

"Your gonna actually have to pick your fucking underwear up off the ground though or your getting a fucking wedgie if I step on them." Billy says with what Eddie can only describe as a pout.

"Your damn right it's fair. Don't think just because I'm asking to get all domestic and shit doesn't mean I'm still not pissed."

The laugh dies down as the seriousness returns. It's calm though, like they've both gotten past some part of the moment that feels like everything is going to be okay.

"We're gonna need a bigger bed."

--The End--

I've had my brain on the whole Omegaverse vs AI thing and this is what became of it lol. Maybe I'll do more slices of life in the future with this particular AU.

[ladyintree]

@lingeringscars said, "don't let me lose you too."

after rescue,  she tried so desperately to get back to a life that was left behind,    not put on 'pause' as the world still moved on without her,   yet she tries so hard to resume where they left off anyway.   getting to university was her chance to fully immerse herself back into reality,   in a world in which she could try to forget about everything that happened to her and everyone else she cared about those years when they disappeared,   and for the most part,   she tried to cut ties with the people there,  too.    it was too hard,  imaginging them as part of her life when this life was so vastly different than the one they created in the wilderness,  like she needed a fresh break that would cure her of every thought that plagued her.   it didn't ever really work,   and there were still people she was so drawn to ---  people she couldn't ever let go of or imagine her life,   no matter how different she needed it to be,   without.  

people like shauna.

she doesn't remember the last time they really talked,  nor the last time they saw each other.   seeing shauna in her dorm room next to her now felt so jarring,   like she was misplaced  --   and yet,   at the same time,   like she was right where she was supposed to be,   because at least she was here with tai.  and tai didn't know how she could possibly say goodbye again.   no matter how much being around shauna reminded her of her worst days,   it also reminded her of how easy it was to be completely safe and vulnerable with someone   (   something she couldn't ever give van,   one of the many reasons she had to cut her off,  too.    )

shauna's words make her frown,   and she scoots closer,   her head shaking as she reaches her hand out to hold hers.   if it was anyone else,   a touch like this would still make her flinch,   it'd feel wrong  ---   but that never feels wrong with her.   even after all this time,  after everything,  it's so easy to fit right back into place with each other.  

 ❝  shauna.  ❞    there are questions she's dying to ask as she wonders what she's doing now,   who she's doing it with    (   is jeff really the person she wants to be with,   or is he just the person she thinks she's supposed to be with?   )    she deserves more than whatever she's made of her life,   but while tai may come down hard on any of the others for not taking advantage of their survival,   she wouldn't do the same for shauna.   she saw first hand what she went through,   what she lived through,   and whatever the case now,   she just wants to be by her side   (   even if she hasn't always made that clear enough.   )      ❝  you won't.   fuck,  okay,  i don't care what happens---   i don't care how far we are away from each other,   you're not losing me.   ever.  ❞     a promise she had made in different words in the wilderness,   one she intends to keep now.   

her hand squeezes hers,   the other moving to wrap around it.   she keeps her eyes on shauna's,   a reminder of the promises they've made with each other without saying anything at all.   ❝  i know things are different.    they should be,   right?   but getting away  .  .  .    it's about everything.   it's about that town,   it's about what happened,  it's about the people,   but it's----   ❞    she pushes out a breath,   her jaw clenching as she stares at her in silence for a long moment.     ❝   it's not about you.   it would never be about you.   ❞     she takes a moment to glance around her dorm;   it's lonely,   and she'd prefer it that way,   but with shauna here,   it feels like they're in the attic again,   their one safe space only for each other.    ❝  stay here.   as long as you want,  okay?   just  .  .  .   stay with me.   ❞