#goddammit i had other things to do this morning

[astralis-ortus]

thunders of rage

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— even through the worst days, you're still my priority.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, comfort warning → mild cussing, reader had a bad day and lashes out at chan :(, one time jump, kissies, chan referred to as chris, reader referred to as baby and babe a.n → based on this request! tysm for requesting♡ ⋆ see masterlist

the word terrible doesn’t even cover the magnitude of bad luck you’ve been facing for the past 10 hours.

from waking up late for work, buses not operating due to a strike and causing the subway being jam-packed, getting absolutely roasted by your supervisor for someone else’s mishap, having your work ruined by a coworker, to barely surviving the somehow never-ending rush hour while running only on a single piece of toast you had in the morning—you’re absolutely in no condition to socialize, even for the slightest bit.

“hey, babe,” your boyfriend’s cheery voice was the first thing you heard as soon as you stepped inside your shared apartment. noises coming out from the speaker on your living room were the thing you noticed next—and you swear you’re so close to losing your sanity.

“how was your day? i saw you barely ate your breakfast when i got back from the gym. are you okay?” oblivious to your nonexistent reply, chris had his eyes glued to the game while he continued to talk. “i haven’t decided what to make for dinner, by the way. do you—”

“can you decide that on your own?” you finally cut your boyfriend off, tone of your voice catching chris off guard. you’re not one to speak sharply—you know it might offend the other party even when you didn’t mean to, and chris knew that about you.

so when he heard that tone being used against him, chris knew something is absolutely wrong.

“let’s get ice cream, then?” chris immediately paused his game and shifted his focus onto you. he sees it now—the seemingly permanent subtle frown on your forehead, the nonexistent glint on the reflection of your eyes, the messy bun on top of your head.

something stresses you out. bad.

“sure.”

chris watched your exhausted trudge head towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water, contemplating the best course of action to get grumpy you to cheer up even just for a little. “and some pizza? or some dimsum? while we wait i’ll run a bath—”

“goddammit, chris!” the loud sound of cup slamming on the countertop startled chris out of his sentence, eyes wide when confusion, irritation, and hurt started to mix in his chest. “i just told you to decide it on your own! stop bothering me! do i need to make every decision for you? god!”

the room fell silent as chris tried to digest the words you aimed at him—but it felt like his head was on static. it only took him a second to get up and grab a hoodie, suppressing any reaction his instinct was telling him to do before he said something he would regret.

“i’m gonna go cool off,” chris quietly said as he headed towards the door, momentarily stopping to look at your tense back. he desperately wanted to stay—but he knows you needed time to be on your own.

“you should cool off too.”

and with that, chris left.

it’s been nearly two hours since chris left, and after a cup of warm tea and a long bath later, guilt finally caught you up in its tight grip.

you knew what you did towards chris was wrong—chris was simply trying to make sure he’s getting something you like because he knows only then your mood would seem to improve, but instead, all you did was accuse him of trying to bother you.

thoughts ran through your head while you stare at your boyfriend’s phone number, thumb hovering over the green button as you try to piece an apology in your head. you’re genuinely worried—it’s getting later in the night, and you still haven’t heard even a single peep from chris. you can’t help but feel worried.

but just as you were about to press the call button, your ears finally picked up the sound of your front door cracking open—chris is home.

“baby, i’m ho—”

chris stopped in his tracks as he felt warmth suddenly enveloping him—you’re hugging him tight, face buried on the span of his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly whispered, barely allowing him time to process what happened within the span of 5 seconds. “i was wrong. i shouldn’t have acted like that. i just really had a terrible day, and—”

“hey, hey, hey,” chris couldn’t help but chuckle, finally wrapping his arm around you after he finally set down the plastic bags on the countertop nearby. “breathe, baby. slow down. you’re okay.”

peering up at chris, your guilt only seemed to dig its claws deeper when you saw his dimpled smile, beautiful eyes gazing right at you even after the sharp words you threw at him.

you felt like crap.

“i’m really sorry,” you croaked another apology, now near tears with the tip of your lips turned down. “i really acted like an ass back there but you still became the bigger person between us. i would’ve understood if you shouted at me, but—”

“baby,” chris shook his head as he gently cradled your face, pads of his thumbs running softly against your cheeks, “i would never forgive myself if i ever raised my voice at you, even during a fight. you’re my girlfriend—you’re someone i need to protect, and that’s what i’ll always try to do.”

the way chris loves you never fails to render you speechless.

some might say you’re the bigger romantic between the two of you—date plans, endless whispers of ‘i love you’s, constantly wrapping yourself around his arm. it’s all what people would see; but you know the nights chris would pull you closer when he notices your tossing and turning, allowing you to settle to the rhythm of his heartbeat. you know the days when he would buy you a single stem of the prettiest sunflower or the loveliest bloom of rose, all because you said you’ve always liked flowers but never the huge bouquet. you know how he would always walk on the side nearest to the road, and the way his arm never left the curve of your waist.

you know the subtle ways he remembers—his ways of saying i love you, and you would never change that for anything in the world.

“kiss me.”

a chuckle rumbles in chris’ chest to your request, beautiful twinkle in his eyes turning you warm and fuzzy. he then gently tipped your chin, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ as he brought his lips onto yours, relishing in the way swarms of butterflies burst under your feverish skin.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[save-the-villainous-cat]

In need of some hurt comfort😭😭.

What about a tired, but stubborn hero and patient, lovely villain that slowly helps them rest? Know it's very cliché I just will always love itt(sorry for bad English)

Have an awesome day!

“Oh God,” the hero whispered. They kneeled on the ground of their kitchenfloor, staring at the white tiles. Their knees hurt, their shins burnt.

All they could do was stare at the broken mug in front of them.

It was getting worse and they could feel it. They were losing their mind, becoming more and more of a restless zombie that wandered around the city.

Now they were seeing shadows, they heard whispers. They forgot things easily and even lashed out more frequently. They could barely tell what kind of person they were anymore.

“Sweetheart…” The villain’s voice was clear and soft. At least the hero still understood that. They turned their head and looked up the villain. “…it’s three in the morning.”

“I…I wanted something. I think I was making coffee…?”

“I think you should be in bed right now,” the villain said. They kept their distance.

“What are you doing here?” the hero asked. Their gaze was glued on the mug again. A birthday gift from their parents.

They were saving people on a daily basis and their parents gave them a mug for their birthday? Weren’t they worth a little more than that? Hadn’t they actually achieved something spectacular in their relatively short life?

“I was actually going to…steal some documents from you. But I heard you and…” They didn’t have to say much more.

In the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the hero just as insignificant as everyone else? But their achievements couldn’t possibly be for nothing.

Or was this a sibling thing? Were their parents trying not to make the hero’s siblings feel left out? But even then, to be fair, the hero had accomplished more, they had been more successful, they had fulfilled their potential.

What more could their parents ask for?

What more could the hero give to them, except for their pure flesh and bone?

“I’m not really sure what you’re doing,” the villain said. “But I’m pretty sure you should be in bed.”

“I wasn’t asking for advice.”

“Consider me concerned.”

“Consider me annoyed.”

“You’re bleeding, do you know that?” the villain asked and when the hero looked down their hands, they could see it too. They had cut themselves on the shards of the mug and the hero had been too concerned with other things to realise it.

When had they become so sloppy?

“Goddammit…” They stood up — making their knees and ankles crack from sitting too long — and cursed quietly as the blood was running down their arms. They went to the sink and turned it on.

“…I’m not really supposed to talk to you when I’m stealing from you but, uh, are you okay?”

“I’m totally fine.” The hero turned off the water but that didn’t really help. The cuts were deep and they needed to stop the bleeding. Lost in their thoughts, they grabbed a dish towel and pressed it against their palms.

Now, the villain took a step forward. Then another. And another.

They grabbed the hero’s hands.

“Sometimes I don’t know what team you’re playing on. That’s a little scary.”

“Excuse me?” the hero asked.

“I can’t always tell if you’re one of the good guys or not,” the villain said. “Just let me be the bad guy to your good guy, okay? That would make it a little easier.”

“Are you asking me to be your nemesis?” the hero asked.

“I guess so. Get some more sleep. Don’t shoot at the good guys. Be a little…nicer?”

“Haven’t I done enough for the city? Haven’t I saved enough people already?” the hero asked. Suddenly, their anger boiled up again but their hands burnt enough to focus on that instead of that giant dark hole in their stomach.

“Isn’t that the thing about heroism? This doesn’t end. And you can’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s how this works, huh?” The hero’s chuckle was empty. “I thought I’d be feeling more fulfilled.”

“I’m not really an expert when it comes to this but I know from experience that people turn into wild animals when they haven’t had enough sleep or enough food. You’re not thinking clearly.” Their hand landed on the hero’s forearm and slowly, they pulled them towards the bedroom.

“You’re pretty nice for a villain.” The villain took the bandages from the nightstand (the hero usually came in through the window, bandaged their wounds and passed out immediately on bad days) and started wrapping them around the hero’s palms.

“Say that again when I kick your ass on Monday.”

“We have a schedule now? Really?” The hero rolled with their eyes. Somehow, these nasty voices and shadows weren’t as bad as before. They didn’t feel the urge to be violent to get rid of them.

“Yes, I’m your nemesis,” the villain said. “And believe me, I’ll find out what’s going on with you.”

Wasn’t that going to be fun?

[cowgurrrl]

Strangers

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (cowgirl!reader???)

Author’s note: goddammit is this gonna be a thing

Summary: Javi struggles to assimilate back into civilian life in Texas until an old friend returns [1.5k]

Warnings: Texas Javi my beloved, language, addictive tendencies, PTSD symptoms, Javi + Steve 4eva, reader has a brother, southernisms, pining, yeah there’s probably gonna be a part two 🙄

Javi really did try his best to leave Colombia and the ghosts that pricked at his memory every time he turned a familiar corner. He wanted to do better. He felt he had to. Too many people died for him to just throw away his chance at life, but the days were long and hot, and he was so fucking tired. The nicotine patches stopped working, and the bottle suddenly wasn't enough to convince himself he was doing what he was sent to do. That he was doing the right thing. That he was a good person. 

He expected the feeling to leave him once he left the imaginary borders of Colombia and returned to the northern valley. He thought working with his dad and getting his feet back under him after years of being pushed and pulled at Reagan's whim would feel better than shaking down teenagers for narco information. Of course, it didn't disappear in the cacti and hazy horizons of Loredo or the arms of his father. It's only been a couple of hours, Peña, he thought. Give it some time. Who knows? Blistering Texas sunsets might be good for burning the blood off his hands. 

Except everybody in his small town knew of his exploits in Latin America. They knew his name was plastered to boxes full of evidence against the cartel and then some. They knew Chucho's boy was some kind of fucked up veteran or hero or whatever they wanted to call him. He avoided going into town more than necessary when he first got home because of how often he got stopped. It didn't matter if he was going to the hardware store, HEB, or the mechanic. Somebody ended up talking to him about Escobar or Cali. He couldn't escape his past even thousands of miles away from it. The only good thing about his newfound fame was the free drinks people pushed his way in the shit hole bar just on the outskirts of town. 

He tells himself to slow down, what with the early mornings and long days he's working, but it'd be a dick move to turn down free drinks, right? Sometimes, Javi loses hours in the bar, betting money on pool, flirting with women passing through town, and telling war stories of the jungle and sicarios and whatever else comes spilling out of his loose lips. He tells himself he's coping the best way he knows how when he comes down for breakfast looking and feeling like shit, his hair practically wet from lingering cigarette smoke, but he knows better. 

His dad deals with Javi's vices the same way they dealt with his mother's death: inefficiently and without making a sound. The most Chucho does is shake his head and sigh when Javi comes stumbling in at some ungodly hour. What more could he do? Javi barely told his dad where he was in the world. How was he supposed to tell him what he'd done? What he saw? What he allowed? No, his dad can never know. It'll kill him. It'll kill Javi to retell. 

Sometimes, Javi will call Steve and ask about Connie and the kids, and they'll act like they're old school buddies and not tethered together through tragedy and white powder. Steve will ask him about his sleep, and Javi will give some bullshit answer which makes Steve laugh. "Yeah, me too," he says one time. "Woke the baby up the other night 'cause I was talkin' again. Don't even know what about. Isn't that fun?" Javi doesn't give much away. He never does, but sometimes, it's just nice to know he's not alone in his struggle to get back to normal. 

Javi is back in town for a full forty days before he finally stumbles across you. At first, he doesn't remember you or your first name. Your last name, however, rattles around his skull until he finally gets the courage to ask if he knows you as he stands in line at the store. "You look familiar." He says, making you laugh. 

"I'd hope so. You were practically livin' in my house in high school." You say, throwing him back to his high school baseball days, spending time either in the field or on the ranch with your older brother. You were a little bit younger than him— the daughter of a weathered cattle rancher— and only caught his attention when you were in the way or being an obnoxious teenager. Man, did you grow up pretty, he thinks. Suddenly, he's hyperaware of his sweaty hair, rumpled shirt, and god-awful farmer's tan. 

"Last I heard, you'd moved out of town," Javi says, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you carefully. The freckles dotting your face from all your time in the sun should be considered lethal, especially when you smile. 

"Last I heard, you were engaged." Just as you did then, you don't hold your punches. The jab doesn't hurt, but it does make him laugh, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck.

"Alright, you got me there," he says. "How's your brother?"

"Good. Married Suzanna a few years ago, and now they've got some babies running around." 

"They live around here?"

"Dallas," you say. "Dillon thinks he's too good for us and decided to be a real estate agent out there instead."

"Sounds riveting," Javi says and you laugh. The line gets shorter and shorter as you talk, but he can't focus on anything but you. "And you? What's a pretty girl like you still doing in this shit hole?" Something behind your eyes flickers at the comment and you take a deep breath, suddenly all too aware of how hot it is today.

"Somebody's gotta get Daddy off the horse every once in a while."

"And what? Your mama can't do that for you?"

"She knows better than to keep tryin'. I'm just as stubborn as he is, so one of us'll win or give up before the other." 

"Well, my money's on you." He says easily. You stare at each other for a little bit longer than necessary before the clerk calls you by name to get your attention. Your items are scanned, bagged, and paid for all in the span of a few seconds. You have no reason to linger in the checkout aisle, but you do, rocking on your boots' heels just a little. 

"Don't be a stranger, Peña." You say, looking him over as if you're seeing him for the first time. 

"I don't think this town's big enough for that." He says, and you chuckle.

"No, I don't think so either," you say. "Tell your dad I said hi." With all your Southern hospitality, you turn and leave. Javi watches you go until the clerk calls his name and breaks him out of it. Well, that and the sound of something crashing to the floor makes him reach for a gun he doesn't carry anymore. His shoulders brace for an explosion, and he can't catch his breath. He stares at the box and the broken jars in it as a pissed-off employee storms off to find a broom. He scoffs. 

Javi has dealt with some of the most dangerous people in the world, and jams are what spike his adrenaline. 

He tries to shrug it off and pay the cashier, but his ears are still ringing, and his heart is still racing when he climbs back into his truck. Fucking jam. He tries to forget about it as he drives home. He wants to forget about it. He wants to think of anything else. 

If that happens to be your smile, the way your laugh fills the air, or the inconspicuous way you looked at him when he complimented you, it's just a coincidence. 

When he gets home, he's craving a drink or a cigarette or something more physical to get his mind off of what happened. His shoulders slump with the weight of memory and Chucho sees. He always sees. He just doesn't know the right way to fix it. 

"Y'know, uh… your friend you used to play baseball with?" He asks, seemingly out of nowhere, as Javi puts away the groceries. He furrows his brows and gives his dad a confused look.

"I had lots of friends I played baseball with."

"He was datin' that girl you went to Homecoming with when you were a freshman?" Of all the things his dad remembers, of course, it's that. Javi resists the urge to roll his eyes and grinds his teeth instead.

"Suzanna?" He asks and Chucho snaps his fingers in a way that tells him that was the right answer. "His name was Dillion. What about him?" 

"Well, his dad heard you're back in town and invited us over for a barbecue," he says nonchalantly and Javi scoffs. "I'm not sure how he didn't know, but you know that old fucker's always out doin' something. Somebody probably told him something or the other. Anyway, you can say no. I told him you were still adjustin'."

"I'll go," Javi agrees too fast. "Might be good to… get outta the house. Wouldn't wanna be a stranger." Chucho is surprised but not displeased with Javi's answer, and they leave it as is. 

It's just reintegrating into civilian life. It's just socializing. It's just a barbecue. It's not an interrogation or a raid. It's coping. 

Apparently, coping could be really fun if he plays his cards right.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @space-zaddy-din-djarin @rainy-darling @its-me-mila @mnn11ankamaaka

[iheartyvesss]

post-outbreak joel miller hcs

joel miller x younger!reader

this was requested by @marianita195

warnings? fluff for the first hcs! for nsfw: creampie, pussy slapping, squirting, dirty talk, dom!joel, reader’s mentioned to have hair long enough to pull, and pussy eating. i think that’s all lol 😭

pre-outbreak hcs here!

sfw

boyfriend!joel who isn’t “entirely sure how to do this relationship thang anymore.” joel had been with someone before, you knew this, but you didn’t mind. joel had told you of tess, how he was with her for a while but it wasn’t how he felt with you. he was stubborn to come about his feelings, yes, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t work with. you were patient. that’s what ellie thinks makes you two work so well. he’s stubborn, and as he is stubborn you’re just as patient. you work with him. allow him to come to you in your own time.

boyfriend!joel who is losing his mind the first time you get hurt out on patrol. “you weren’t supposed to be there.” he’d murmured into your hair, sighing heavily when you’d only laughed in response. joel knows you can handle yourself and it’s a thing that he admires about you, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying about you and your health. joel sat by your bedside in jackson’s infirmary until you were just about cleared. he spent his time gripping your hand in his whenever he wasn’t sleeping or going to check on ellie.

boyfriend!joel who can’t help but love the way you treat his ellie. he hears the two of you stay up and talk into all hours of the morning. about what? he doesn’t really know besides the fact that you refuse to share what the conversations are about. “why don’t you ask our girl yourself?” you’d told him, smiling so sweetly he couldn’t bring himself to scowl at you for being a brat. you spend most of your time with ellie if not with him or maria. you take her to the library with you, as well as the gardening section you sometimes assist with. if ellie’s on patrol, you’re on patrol, and it warms his heart in a way he can’t quite pinpoint.

boyfriend!joel who loves you because you are his polar opposite and his mediator between him and his daughter. ellie is too rash while joel is too calculated, leaving you to be just right. you’re often the one to make final decisions in the household over the dumbest of things. your favorite memory is the first time ellie officially began to hang out with dina and jesse. joel was worried out of his mind that jesse would try something with ellie, and how desperately you wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about.

boyfriend!joel who doesn’t know how to completely express his love for you and ultimately fumbles a bit in the early stages of your relationship. you were supposed to go on your second date with joel at his house, he’d said he was going to make dinner and ellie would remain in her little room in the back. you’d spent all day thinking of it, even losing track of books and stressing yourself out over where’d you last put them. maria found it adorable, if anything. she’d told you to go ahead and leave early if you were that excited. you had a few nice items of clothing from the many runs you and some of the others had done, and this little red number was just perfect. you’d practically skipped to joel’s house only for him to not answer when you knocked. you remember ellie coming through and opening the door, eyes widening before cursing joel out loud and turning to pull you into the house. “um, he hasn’t come back from the job he was workin’ yet so maybe we should wait?” you’re positive ellie could feel the embarrassment flowing off of you in waves but you agreed with the younger girl anyway.

boyfriend!joel who’d came in an hour later, flustered and visibly stressed. he found you and ellie curled on his couch watching freaky friday, and his chest had tightened because you looked so beautiful. “(name)- goddammit.” he murmured, running a hand down his face. “ellie,” he paused to look at her, using his chin to gesture for her to leave. “go. please.” he added the please quietly, stress clear on his face. it was probably the only reason she left without a word. “listen, (name), i’m sorr-” but you’d already stood with a soft smile. “no, it’s fine. i’ll go and we can try again another time, okay?” he’d believe you if you hadn’t swallowed thickly, pushing some hair from your face. joel could feel the guilt creeping up his chest and god did it make him sick. “no, darlin’ jus’ give me a minute and i can make us somethin’ to eat. i’m sorry. i like you, sugar i just…it’s been a day ‘m sorry.” you smile genuinely at that and find your feet moving their way towards him. “you like me, miller?” your eyes are gentle when he looks down at you, and joel realizes you make him feel safe. “we can make another day out for this, ‘m not going anywhere ‘cause of one mishap. i was embarrassed, yes, but you were caught up with patrol and such there’s nothing to do about that. we’re fine, joel. i promise.” you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, to the other, then to his lips. “we can try again, hm?”

nsfw headcanons ↓

boyfriend!joel who fucks you rough and nasty. his hips are always so rough against yours as his beard tickles the side of you neck while he kisses down it. his fingers dig into your hips and the most you can do is whimper out his name. your eyes roll to the back of your head and youre grappling at his back desperately for any type of leverage. anything to keep your body grounded from the euphoria taking it over. “thas’ it sweet thing. you’re taking me so well, hm?” you can only nod as a sob rips from your throat, legs tightening around your boyfriend’s hips to pull him deeper within you. joel grips your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to look him in his eyes as he fucks you deeper. he pushes you further into the bed, hips slamming against yours at a stuttering pace. “joel- can’t- can’t- feels weird.” you sob out, closing your eyes only for them to flutter open when you cum. you cum hard, fluids spraying against his lower abdomen and some getting on the sheets. joel’s eyes change a certain way when he witnesses you squirt for the first time, and the twitch of his cock tells you he’s far from done.

boyfriend!joel who has a thing for face fucking. joel loves to get you on your knees or have you lay over the side of the bed. he’ll purr sweetly at you, “you gonna take it, pretty girl?” and you eat it up everytime. you’re looking up at him with big eyes, pressing kisses to his thighs and mumbling about how good you can be. he likes to take things slow before he uses his throat by tracing his thumb along your lip before tapping his cock against your lips. “go ahead sweet thing. take what you want.” and you’re already spitting on his cock, stroking him a few times before taking him in your mouth. you move up and down his cock, getting used to the size despite how many times you’ve taken him down your throat. joel knows when you’ve gotten settled because you take him all the way down your throat and hold it, blinking up at him like the most innocent thing in the world. joel prefers to grab your hair, pulling back before fucking into your throat slow and deep. he holds you there despite your sputtering and choking, only pulling out when he feels it’s enough. when joel begins to fuck your throat you can never help but guide your hands down to your cunt. you’re moaning around his dick while tears fall from your eyes, pitiful and shaking hands desperately rubbing at your clit. your hips jut into your hands to no avail, because only joel can make you cum the way you want to. his grip always tightens unbearably when he’s about to cum, and his hips stop deep in your pretty little throat to cum down it. “thas’ my sweet girl. takin’ this dick like it was made for ya.”

boyfriend!joel who loves nothing more than to eat you out. he loves the feeling of your warmth against his mouth, the way your pussy is so responsive to his actions. he loves to run his tongue through your folds before suckling on your clit. he rubs your clit slow and steady, watching your reactions to his ministrations. you cover your eyes with your forearm in an attempt to hide the tears already trying to form in your pretty eyes. joel chuckles at your actions before pulling back and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “remember you gotta be quiet, pretty.” you nod quickly, whimpering softly because you need him to move. when joel starts he never really knows how to stop. he goes in, fingers stretching you deliciously while his lips work on your clit. he latches on and sucks, pulling the most wanton of moans from your lips. your hips jut against his face with a soft sob and you’re desperately trying to hang on to your already building orgasm. joel doesn’t care though. he only hooks his fingers in your cunt and thrusts, pulling back to spit on your pussy as if you weren’t wet enough. he flattens his tongue against your pussy, peeking up at you with what could only be a smug look in his eyes. “you gonna cum on my face, sweets?” you nod, shaking your head harder when you began to thrust up against his tongue. “gonna-” joel shakes his head. “don’t say it, do it.” and you’re creaming on his face as a cry rips through your throat.

boyfriend!joel who likes to fuck you in one of the check-in stations while the two of you are out on patrol. he rubs his hands down your sides, pinning you against the table of he little shack. you’re looking up at him with a cheeky smile that makes him raise a brow at your attitude. “what? you gonna fuck me in a lil shack ‘cause you can’t hold it? ‘nd you say i’m the slut.” joel doesn’t take attitude and you’re fully aware. trust. so you’re not surprised when his previous loving strokes down your side go rigid. he scoffs airily, “turn around.” you bite down on your lip but comply anyway, undoing your belt to allow him to pull your pants down easier. joel laughs from behind you, murmuring something along the lines of “fuckin’ slut.” and he tugs your pants and panties down in one tug. he runs his middle finger through your folds, tuting softly when he feels the slick build on his finger. “fuckin’ slut was already thinkin’ about getting fucked over this table, huh?” you moan softly, nodding to answer his question. you wiggle your ass out to him, looking over your shoulder with a pout. “please, joel? need it s’bad.” he laughs again this time, though it’s deeper and full of some sort of intent. he doesn’t say anything following his laugh, prompting you to turn around to ask again. “shut it.” joel snaps, thrusting into you in one quick, delicious thrust. your question dies on your lips as you lean forward and moan loud and deep, your pussy clenching tightly around your boyfriend. your eyes water from the sudden intrusion and your toes attempt to curl in your shoes. “mhm, bet you shut the fuck up now.” he hisses in your ear, gripping the back of your head to pull you back up with him. joel’s thrusts are hard and unforgiving, a pace he sets only for when you’ve been a brat or simply asked for it. you sob out his name, begging for him to slow down and that your pussy can’t take it. “can’t take it? didn’t you jus’ try to beg for it? you beg for it then you fuckin’ take it. take what you get sweet girl. ain’t that right?” words are lost to your little brain and you can only muster up a nod to his questions and statements. the hand that isn’t holding you up rests on your clit, giving it a sharp slap before he’s rubbing it like you aren’t already twitching against him. “oh my- fuck!” joel’s thrust only further the deep knot forming in your tummy, making you squirm and twitch in his grip. he chuckles when he feels you clench, too fucking tight, and you’re screaming and sobbing as you cum on his dick. “atta fuckin’ girl.” he lets you go, bending you over to ride out his own orgasm. your fingernails dig into the wooden desk, leaving scratch marks you would have a hard time explaining to the next couple to come out here for inspection. “shit, this pussy gotta be made for me. my pretty slut with a pretty pussy, hm?” you nod against the desk, praying a splinter doesn’t find it’s way into your face. “good.” you’re crying out, cumming again as joel’s balls slap against your pussy one final time. he cums deep inside of you, holding your hips down to ensure his seed stays deep inside of your pretty cunt. he pulls out, watching the way his cum oozes out of your pussy. “a sight i ain’ ever getting tired of.” he hums, shoving his fingers back into you.

back to the website !

other tags: @whichwitchwanda

[winged-self-indulgence]

I just think Ray needs a surprise holiday!

You had it all planned out.

Every meticulous step had been perfectly arranged. Every task on the board carefully categorized, broken down into a series of simple goals that you had ticked off one by one. You were on schedule, on time, on a fucking roll. And you were not going to let anyone stand in your way. No matter the cost, even to your pride, you were going to see this through.

“Star…” Ray blinked down at you, dark eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and that ever-present fondness that never failed to make your knees grow weaker. The hand rubbing the back of his neck lowered to curl over your cheek, almost petting you as though you were a misbehaving cat. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing!” You replied reflexively, and then cringed when one eyebrow went up. Too quick. Usually you were a better liar, but this was Ray. Your boyfriend of several months, and the love of your life for almost as much time. You didn’t exactly want to lie to him, but this was meant to be a surprise! Did anyone know how difficult it was to plan a surprise for a mind-reader?! The meditation, the distractions, the waiting until he was out patrolling before jumping online to do research, finish up preparations, and then hurriedly delete the browsing history on your laptop?

It would all be worth it though, you thought determinedly as you marshaled your willpower and stubbornly stared up at Ray. There was no way you were going to trip up this close to the finish line. By tomorrow morning everything would be finalized.

“Tomorrow morning?” Ray echoed lightly, and you immediately froze in place. Shit, he was catching on. Fine, fine, you could salvage this. As long as he didn’t look into your room– “Your thoughts are very loud, Star.”

“I’m panicking!” You retorted, again too loud and too quick. He snickered at your flustered state while you rushed to regain control. “Um. I mean. There’s nothing in my room, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Ray snorted, a laugh escaping him at your obvious attempts. His tall frame cast a shadow over you as he stepped closer, herding you backwards until your spine touched the door of your room. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with something approaching genuine curiosity and anticipation.

“Come on, what's the big surprise you've been hiding from me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. His eyes pinned you in place.  

"Now, now, Ray. Patience is a virtue, you know," you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing. When he stepped forward again, you placed a hand on his chest to prevent him from advancing further. "Besides, that’s the fun in spoiling the surprise too soon? You’ve waited this long, right?"

“I didn’t know I was waiting before,” Ray grumbled, and then a playful smirk curved his lips. “Besides, I know exactly where the fun is," he quipped, leaning in closer until his breath ghosted over your ear. "Why don’t you let me show you?"

Goosebumps formed across your skin as molten heat flowed through your body, down your spine and to the very tips of your toes. You shuddered at his proximity, your own eyes growing half-lidded as your iron resolve weakened under his tantalizing words. In or out of the blue and yellow costume, Ray was impossibly magnetic. There was no way you could deny the effect he had on you. Once he had compared you both to a binary star system, two objects in space intertwined in a cosmic dance. Destined to either be destroyed or separated for eternity.

You thought that was a rather pessimistic outlook. Maybe you wouldn’t always work things out. Maybe you would argue. Maybe the causes would be internal – your own insecurities and worries, Ray’s trauma, his misanthropy, and over-protectiveness. Maybe they would be external – the NAHA, Double Vision, and other villains. To you though, what mattered was that you wanted to work things out with Ray. He made you happy, and you made him happy, and goddammit you were going to commit to that!

You couldn't let him win this time, not when you had gone through so much effort to orchestrate the perfect surprise. It was time for Evasive Manoeuvres(TM).

Ray, lips already at your throat, immediately paused. He drew back, a deep furrow creasing the skin between his brows. “What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you responded innocently, as the dulcet tones of Jay Park cooing about fat asses transformed into the less dulcet tones of Lil Jon and The East Side Boys. You continued speaking slowly as the lyrics 3-6-9 DAMN SHE FINE, I’M HOPING SHE CAN SOCK IT TO ME ONE MORE TIME played on loop at the forefront of your mind. “I just think my lovely boyfriend should be a bit more patient instead of trying to ruin the surprise I worked very hard on.”

The look he shot you promised swift and punishing retribution, but you stood your ground. You both knew that if Ray really wanted to spoil the game, he had a million ways to do so, up to and including simply picking you up like the aforementioned misbehaving cat.

Kind of like right now. You let out a surprised squeak as Ray tossed you over one shoulder and headed for his bedroom. “Nice try, Star,” he remarked with a low chuckle that you felt acutely between your legs. "But you can't hide your thoughts from me forever. I plan to get it out of you tonight, one way or the other."

Approximately 18 hours later you glared at Ray from the front lobby of the beach resort as the desk worker happily announced that your room had been upgraded to a deluxe suite overlooking the beach. Charitably, he has chosen not to make fun of you, but you still stewed in your emotions as he carried both of your suitcases all the way to the elevator, through the connecting hallways, and into the massive bedroom. You wouldn’t have been able to manage anyway. Your thighs were still so sore that you’d almost missed the flight entirely.

You barely waited for the door to close before you couldn’t hold it anymore. “How did you know?!”

Ray blinked at you bemusedly, and then purposefully lifted a finger to point at himself. “Telepath.”

The pillow you lobbed at him came to a halt in front of his face and remained hovering in place before floating neatly back to the bed. The look he gave you could only be described as shit eating.

“You fucking – ARGH!” You covered your face with another pillow to muffle the mortified screeching. “I really thought I had you! How long have you known?”

“What?!” That had been ages ago, long before I’d even started looking up holiday destinations! “I’ll have you know that meditation is a perfectly normal activity! Why would that be suspicious?!”

Ray hummed thoughtfully, putting a hand to his chin while tipping his head back to stare up at the gorgeously paneled ceiling. “For a few weeks. Around the time you started practicing meditation. It was very suspicious.”

A scoff. “Star, you hate sitting still and not moving. You can’t even watch Netflix without either knitting or playing games on your phone, and I’m supposed to believe you just decided to start the one activity that’s about being calm?”

“Bastard,” you pouted, pulling away when he tried to corral you into his arms for an apologetic hug. “You’re so mean to me. Mean boyfriends don’t get kisses when they ruin surprises from their loving partners!”

“Then maybe little brats shouldn’t try to hide things from their superpowered boyfriends,” Ray snarked back, pinching the sides of your face with one hand and holding you still. The smile on his face was impossibly fond and filled with a heat unmatched by the blazing equatorial sun outside. “Still. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you, Star…” he murmured, leaning closer.

Just before your lips touched however, a familiar tune chimed from his phone. The resulting wince was Pavlovian, and you scowled across the room at the phone buried somewhere in Ray’s bag.

He twitched towards it, years of conditioning prompting his body even as it revulsed him, but you were faster. You grabbed Ray by the face and turned his head back towards you.

“I heard there’s a buffet downstairs,” you said. “It’s all you can eat seafood, and there's dessert!”

He blinked at you, attention split for a split second before focusing completely on your face. “Is food all you ever think about?” He chuckled, allowing you to tug him towards the door and out the room. “I should have lured you with free meals.”

“I don’t know,” you hummed playfully, shutting the door firmly on the NAHA and their bullshit. “I think you caught me just fine.”

[astorytotellyourfriends]

Eddie installs the Ring doorbell when Chrissy asks him to.

Well, he says he will when Chrissy asks him. She brings it home one day and waxes poetic about how it'll make her feel safer on the nights he has to work late and she's all alone at home. He kind of thinks it's a waste of money but if it makes Chrissy feel better, then he'll agree to it.

It still takes a little over a week for Eddie to actually install it, and if not for Chrissy reminding him to turn off the breaker for that part of the house, he probably would've gotten electrocuted.

He downright refuses to download the app to his phone, saying it's overkill to have it on both of their phones especially when Chrissy's the one who wanted it in the first place. He's rarely home without her, so what good would it be?

Not to mention Eddie threatens to smash his phone several times a week when Robin starts quadruple texting their group chat, so random notifications from their doorbell would probably result in Eddie having to shell out cash for another brand new phone.

It's a little weird to see himself on the grainy video when Chrissy makes him test it out. She scolds him for giving the camera the finger, but she still gives him a kiss in thanks for doing the thing.

(One kiss is never enough, but that's a whole other story.)

He doesn't really think much of the camera after it's installed. It's not like he rings the doorbell when he comes home, so he doesn't even think about the fact that it's motion activated.

Chrissy also doesn't remind him of that until one morning where he wakes up to Chrissy giggling to herself. She hides her phone screen when he rolls over, sleepy and sort of hungover from his night out with Billy. He tries to pry her phone out of her hand so he can toss it aside and cuddle up with her for another couple hours of sleep, but she refuses to give it up.

"What's so funny?" he asks in a low rumble as he makes himself comfortable curled into her side, his cheek on her shoulder.

"You," she says as she finally shows him her screen.

The timestamp reads just before two in the morning, and the video starts with Eddie trudging up the stairs to their front door. He's a little wobbly but he doesn't trip, though he does lean heavily against the door once he reaches it.

Eddie has zero memory of this. It's sort of like having an out-of-body experience, watching his past self huff and grumble as he pats himself down in search of his keys.

But what Chrissy was giggling about was the fact that the Eddie on video is talking about her the whole time.

"...bet you're all cozy and cute in our bed, lookin' like a goddamn doll while you dream. Soft and pretty and perfect just like the first day I met-- godDAMMIT where are my fuckin' keys Jesus Christ I just fuckin' had them I swear to god-- YES finally okay Chrissy baby I'm coming for youuu!"

Chrissy bursts into giggles again as Eddie groans into her shoulder. He tries to grab her phone but she squeals as she keeps it out of his reach, shrieking his name when he abandons the endeavor and opts for tickling her instead.

He finally relents when she tosses her phone onto the nightstand and grabs both of his hands, twisting around to press Eddie onto his back and pin his arms down against the bed.

"You love me," she teases as she pecks a kiss to the tip of his nose and then his lips. Eddie hums against her mouth and makes a face when she pulls away.

"Can't prove it," he teases right back.

"Yuh-huh. I've got it on video."

"That was clearly doctored. Won't hold up in court."

"No?" Eddie shakes his head and Chrissy hums. "Good thing I've got plenty more evidence, your honor."

Eddie grins. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm."

"What kinda evidence?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Pretty sure that's a violation of--"

Chrissy rolls her eyes and covers Eddie's mouth with her own again, kissing him harder this time. When she pulls back, Eddie's completely forgotten his argument. She releases her hold on his arms and he takes her face in his hands, chuckling softly when he hears her breath catch.

"I love you," he murmurs, watching as Chrissy's mouth breaks into a wide smile.

"I knew it."

[disastrouscanasta]

this wip is taking too long, and i’m not sure how outright I can be with the smut on tumblr, so here’s the before-stuff

Once the war was over properly, and men were being sent home to their wives and their children, John was faced with an unfortunate reminder that everything he’d tried so hard to sustain would amount to less and less the further they got from Europe. 

The tenuous convenience of his and Buck’s relationship slipped away quickly, and before he knew it, John was standing at the threshold of their ending.

In the morning, Gale would get on a train and go home to Marge. He’d say his farewells and snuff out the only fire that was keeping John going. Still, John would take it on the chin and shake his hand, standing up beside him on the platform until Gale cut his losses just to board the train.

That night, though, John would be damned if he didn’t at least try to make something of what he’d worked so hard to get to. Through their first years in the war, through all those missions and every goddamn day in Stalag Luft III, they’d stuck together. They’d been more to each other than John thought had ever had with a friend of his, and he knew it was more than Gale had ever had. Yet, as 1945 had shifted through seasons and months of supply drops and general military service, John had rationalised that it would end.

What they’d become to one another was circumstantial. It didn’t matter if John had no one back home, Gale did.

“Have you got a minute?” He asked Gale that night at the local officers club, their shoulders brushed where they stood at the bar counter.

“More than a minute.” Gale said. Hardly, John thought. He’d counted the hours, they had less than ten together.

But work was light, they’d mostly been sitting around waiting for things to do. And when they had a responsibility, nine out of ten times it was paperwork. John was bored, but Gale was the one who’d decided to go home first. I’ll come back, he’d promised. It wasn’t for John, even though that’s who he’d been speaking to. It was for the air force, for their country as a whole. God bless America.

But whatever kept Gale coming back. John doubted they’d continue their… Well, he just doubted they would continue past the war. Tough times and all that, John was good at getting Gale out of his own head every once in a while. 

“Mind calling it a night?” John asked. It earned him an intrigued eyebrow raise followed by the subtle way Gale’s eyes widened when it dawned on him.  John smiled when Gale just nodded quickly.

“Sure.”

John downed his drink, placing the drink down on the counter next to Gale’s— still, unfortunately— alcohol-lacking glass. He still had a flask in his uniform pocket, just in case.

He took Gale by the sleeve after paying for their service with a few bills left on the counter. When they reached the door and a blast of cold air hit them, John felt an inexplicable need to rush settle into his bones. They only had about nine hours left. Maybe just a bit more. In nine hours they could get off, that was sure. Maybe even save some energy for a second go at it.

At their billet, turned on the lights before he pressed his body close to Gale’s, keeping their hips together and bringing up his hands to rest on Gale’s face.

Gale wound his arms around John’s waist. His hands were a steady, grounding weight on John’s hips. He felt the hum of Gale’s voice as he spoke.

“Bed?”

“Wherever.” John huffed. He waited a spare few moments before kissing Gale needily. He tilted his head to deepen it, brushing Gale’s teeth with his tongue.

Gale moved them backwards, guiding John until his legs met the bed frame.

John’s hands fell to Gale’s buttons, undoing them with ease, then he pushed the tunic off of Gale’s shoulders. He moved on quickly to Gale’s tie, then his shirt.

“In a rush?” Gale said against his lips.

Yes, goddammit. “Just in the mood, Buck.”

“We’ve got all night.” Gale said, painfully sweet. The softness in his voice made the hair on the back of John’s neck stand on end. That kindness wasn’t for him, he knew that. But he’d take it. He would take what Gale would give him.

“Whole lot of time.” John said, hardly believing a word. With each erratic, aroused beat of his heart, he felt the ticking of the clock on the mantle. Gale was slipping through his fingers, even while he was a mooring presence against John’s skin. “Come on, just like old times, yeah?”

Old times meant cramped closets in the dark. Muffled breathing as they chased their own orgasms. Those were some of John’s favourite memories, tucked up against Gale’s body as they tried to drown out the world around them. If Gale was there, things didn’t seem quite so bad.

Gale smiled at him now, in the relatively spacious billet. His eyes were lit up by the lamp on the nightstand. A warm, golden glow that reflected on his skin. It sure felt different from any other time, not only for the sand in their hourglass pouring out, but the kindness, the warmth, everything they hadn’t been able to have during the war.

John undid his own tie and started on his own buttons, Gale took over for him, undressing John before leaning in to kiss him. It was soft and slow, close-mouthed and all too serene. John had to remind himself that they were back home, that this wasn’t the war. Gale wouldn’t be by his side anymore, but he’d be out there. He’d be okay.

Gale pushed him back against the bed until John’s back met the mattress. Gale posted his arms next to John’s shoulders, kissing him and pressing their chests together. He reached down to undo John’s belt, slipping his trousers down to palm him through the front of his underwear. John gasped, bucking his hips up against Gale’s hand.

“Don’t.” He said when Gale licked his lips, ducking his head to be level with John’s groin. “Not like that.”

Gale looked up at John, a bemused expression on his face. John cupped Gale’s jaw, bringing Gale’s lips back up to his.

“All the way?” Gale asked when he pulled back, studying John intently.

“Why not?” John said. Anything to move them along. He missed Gale’s touch like a chasm in his chest, and he hadn’t even gone yet.

“Alright.” Gale’s lips dropped to John’s neck. 

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Hhiiiii I hope you're doing well 🥺 I had a pretty depressing day at work so I was really happy to see the fluffy alphabet requests.

Could I get I,K, and M with Zoro please? Thank you!! And take care!! 💕💕

I know depressing days are the worst, at work or otherwise, so ngl I kinda jumped on top of this the second you sent it.

I hope this helps even a little.

And thank you for the request!! 💕

Fluffy Alphabet Masterlist here

I is for I Love You (Who says it first, how long does it take, how does it happen?)

“You—? Oh. Oh. I…I love you too.”

You’re probably going to have to say it first. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because love is still sort of a foreign concept for him.

Love is difficult for Zoro to really grasp. He’s been alone for the vast majority of his life. He really only had one friend prior to joining the Strawhat crew. Seriously, it's a foreign concept.

He knows that you make his heart beat a little faster any time he sees you, that he feels as weightless as if the entire world has been lifted from his shoulders when you kiss him—and that he would protect you with his life without question. He really doesn’t wholly understand what any of that means, it’s not something he’s ever had to deal with before, but he likes it. He likes it a lot.

When you do draw up the resolve to say it, however long it takes, it all just sort of all falls into place for him—love, that’s what this is, right, that makes perfect sense.

Once the shock of realization wears off, he’ll say it right back without any hesitation, with a smile a mile wide and a deep kiss, pulling you to him by your waist.

And he’s not going to waste a single moment to say it again after the first time, just so he can hear you say it back.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?)

“Ah—goddammit, come here—”

If you’re just cuddled up together and relaxing, then it’s slow and deep, one of his arms curled around you with his hand rubbing slowly up and down your back, his other hand brushing back through your hair.

If things are a little more heated, then he’ll have you pressed against the wall, hands grasping at your waist and your hips, your lips crushed together hard enough to leave them swollen and bruised.

Feeling your lips trail down throat to his chest while you’re lying across him drives him absolutely wild, and you can expect to be flipped onto your back and have him tugging at your clothes within seconds while he kisses every inch of your skin he can reach.

How he kisses you at any given time depends a great deal on the circumstances—but regardless, he’s been starved of affection for most of his life, physical or otherwise, so he cannot ever get enough of your lips.

M is for Morning (How are your mornings spent together?)

“Oh, come on, I got up first yesterday…”

You’ll almost always wake up first; Zoro’s a deep sleeper, and any excuse to sleep in is a good one as far as he’s concerned.

You also definitely won’t be getting up before he wakes up. Even fast asleep, he’ll have his arm curled around you, and any attempt on your part to rise will just result in him pulling you tighter against him. You’re basically his teddy bear, and you must accept your fate as such.

He’s not really much of a morning person and tends to wake up slowly. Don’t try to convince him to get up before he’s ready to or he’s bound to get grumpy about it.

It’s not really like you want to get up, anyway; there’s a certain serenity to lying there with his arm tucked under your neck while he stretches and rolls his shoulders, while he turns his head to press his lips lightly to yours or brush them against your temple, while you both just lie there as a tangle of limbs and jokingly bicker over who should get up first.

Every morning is a lazy morning.

[seat-safety-switch]

Being famous is always held up as an achievement that's not all it's cracked up to be. Think about that real hard. If that were true, then why do people try so hard to become famous? The only possible explanation is that the existing famous people are trying to cut down on the competition, discouraging you from becoming rich and powerful like them.

In the modern era, there are more ways than ever to become famous. Thanks to fancy new technologies, you can film yourself ranting about your current obsession from the front seat of your 2006 F-150 and receive instant gratification. Or not, as the case may be, but you got a lot of irons in the fire. Maybe this other marginalized group is the secret sauce to make real grievance numbers? Worth a shot. Keep on that grind.

Your one-in-a-million chance will arrive. Maybe, despite all your best efforts, you're not going to become famous for what you're really passionate about. Statistically, scientists say, your brush with the collective social consciousness of the entire human race will come from throwing up live on camera during a taping of Good Morning America where you forgot that you are actually allergic to lobster tails. Congrats, buddy, we always knew you had it in you to hit the big-time.

Thing is, once you've gotten there, what's next? Everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame (because we're in the future,) but people are selfish. Greedy. They want sixteen minutes of fame, goddammit, and they're willing to do nearly anything in order to get it. As far as I can tell, there's only two paths out of this state, maybe three if you're willing to go wandering in the mountains and never return, but let's stick to the basics here.

The first "exit" you have from your waning fame is to become insufferable and ruin the lives of everyone around you. Burn the world down with you in it. Make them rue the day they ever gave you power, even if that "power" was largely illusory and consisted entirely of social leverage because people liked laughing at a 35-second YouTube video of you embarrassing yourself in public.

Didn't like that one? Neither do I. So we're onto option two: the comic convention circuit. You'll travel across the world, signing autographs for people who dimly remember your guest spot on an episode of Hoarders X. It doesn't pay well, but it does something more important. Like a fibreglass splinter in a finger, society will continue to throb painfully around you, but unable to dispose of you, with the eventual reward being that your demise will be met with "they were still alive?" on the lips of everyone who was once vaguely aware of your existence. And that's how you win at being human.

[730bliss]

I love your writing and I was wondering if you could write a Hook fic where reader comforts him after the betrayal from Jack?

comforting hook <3 (and thank you for the compliment!)

*g/n reader but an explicit mention of Hook outweighing reader

it was a rough night for Hook. not only did he get back stabbed by one of his closest friends, he was sitting on a backstage storage crate looking like a total loser. after Jack's betrayal, Hook didn't really have any friends, at least not the way he used too. Team Taz ended long ago, Dan got injured, dad was always busy, y/n had other friends, and Jack... well, you know. Hook had nobody anymore, not that he minded, but god was it nice to have a friend, someone who you could really trust. someone who could empathize with him, and goddammit, someone who could give him a ride back to the damn hotel!

as countless backstage staff and talent walked by, no one even looked in his direction, almost as if they were actively avoiding him. wow, how pathetic.

Hook zoned out for bit while a few tears formed. but then he was pulled back into reality.

"hello? earth to Hook?" a soft voice said.

Hook snapped out of his small trance and looked at you. you looked in his eyes and noticed the tears starting to well-up. you sat next to him on the crate.

"you doing okay?" you asked.

"yea," he said while sniffling the tears so you couldn't see them.

you touched him on the arm.

"Hook...listen," you started, "i know how it feels, and i understand you probably don't even want to be around people right now, but i can't just let you go through what i did..."

you too, had been turned on by your former tag partner. god, what an awful night that was. you couldn't bear to see a friend go through that too! especially not one you had been chasing for the better part of a year!

he didn't say anything.

"look, how about we go back to my hotel room? didn't you guys share a room?" you asked.

"yea," he said.

"and your dad isn't here tonight, is he?

"nah," Hook replied.

"okay. get your stuff," you said.

"k."

when you were driving back, it really started to dawn on you how little Hook actually talks. maybe that's what made you two such good friends, he prefers to listen to you ramble, while occasionally looking at you where he probably shouldn't, and you talk about the latest drama or cute thing your cat did. but once you got into the hotel room, the narrative flipped.

you listened to Hook for what seemed like hours, talking about how much Jack had hurt him. how lonely he felt on those crates. how he felt like nothing but a burden to those around him in those moments.

but he also said how much he appreciates you, and how much your friendship means to him. that's when you swear you saw some tears falling down his cheeks, but he was quick to wipe them away. he said he's glad to have you as a friend, and if you were to be his only friend, he wouldn't particularly mind that. it's a risk to trust people after all.

and then Hook did something completely out of character.

he hugged you.

you were kinda shocked at first, but quickly embraced him in your arms as he buried his head into your shoulder, and you moved your hand up to his head to comb through his hair.

"thank you," he whispered. "thank you for being here for me."

"anytime," you said. "let's go to bed."

"like this?" he asked.

"yeah, like this."

it was a pain to move him off you the next morning. Hook's arms were around you tight and him outweighing you did not help. eventually, you did wake up early to surprise him with some Doritos. when you gave it to him, he smiled a wide, genuine smile.

he thought about kissing you, but he didn't. and you'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking the same thing.

"next time for sure though," Hook thought.

hope u liked! felt like taking a more angsty route idk

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 7

You realize something major just as the world ends. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-6, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: TLOU Canon-typical violence, attempted suicide, mention of sex. No use of Y/N. Overall fic is 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Y'all, this is the outbreak chapter. Apologies in advance.

Tuesday, September 2, 2003 

You’d been throwing up enough the last few days that you knew the signs. When your stomach started turning on your drive to work, you groaned. 

“Goddammit,” you muttered, spotting a Walgreens on the corner. They’d have a bathroom. And maybe something you could use to kick this stupid stomach bug. You parked and all but sprinted for the bathroom, knocking once on the door before yanking it open. You barely made it to the toilet, throwing up everything you’d managed to eat that morning. Not that much sounded good. It had been a struggle finding anything worth trying to eat every day since you either got food poisoning or caught the stomach flu or whatever the hell was going on. 

Once you were sure it had passed, you sat back on your heels, groaning. This was getting so old. You rinsed your mouth out in the sink and ventured down the aisles of the store, grabbing a travel container of Listerine before going to the pharmacy counter. 

“Can I help you?” The cheery woman in a white coat said. 

“I hope so,” you smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me but I either got some crazy food poisoning or caught some stomach bug, I’ve been doing nothing but throw up for three days. I’ve tried Pepto, I’ve tried Dramamine, I’m hoping you have another idea…” 

“Could you be pregnant?” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown. 

“No,” you laughed and then paused, doing the math. 

You hadn’t had your period since June. That wasn’t super odd for you, you’d never been particularly regular. Some months it just didn’t show up. But it’s not like you’d been having tons of crazy sex since you got dumped last month… You’d just had lots of crazy sex when you’d last seen Joel seven weeks ago. Like the time in the pool the morning you flew home, where he came so deep inside you it felt almost impossible. Your hand drifted to your lower stomach. 

“Pregnancy tests are on aisle eight,” she pointed, giving you a sad half smile. You just nodded, leaving the Listerine on the counter and walking in a daze for the tests. You almost blindly grabbed a pack. There was a smiling woman on the package, like that positive test was the best thing had ever happened to her. You carried it back to the pharmacy counter. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, still dazed. “Can I buy these here? Even though I’m not getting a prescription?” 

“No problem,” she scanned the tests and the Listerine and you paid before walking to the bathroom. You weren’t sure when you’d last blinked. 

You peed on the stick, washed your hands and paced, checking your watch every few seconds as if that would make time go faster. But when the time was up, you didn’t want to pick up the test and see the result. Didn’t want to know what the answer was, like you’d rather not know a damn thing and then deal with whatever comes when it comes. 

You picked up the test. 

Two pink lines. 

“Oh God.” 

You didn’t remember driving to work. You didn’t really remember walking in, either. The first thing you were aware of was stopping at Louisa’s classroom door, poking your head in as she set up for her first class of the year. 

“When’s your planning period?” You asked. 

“Third,” she said. “Same as last year.” 

“Good,” you said. “I’m coming by.” 

“Not a great day for it,” she said absently. “I’ve got so much crap to do…” 

“Louisa,” you said, pleading. She looked up at you and frowned. 

“Yeah, OK,” she nodded. “See you third period.” 

You were on autopilot the first two periods. You doubted you’d be able to pick any of your students out of a lineup your mind was so full of other things. 

Pregnant. You were pregnant. In 15 years you’d have a kid this age. Oh God, you were going to have a kid. Were you going to have a kid? Were you going to do this alone? 

You didn’t even knock on Louisa’s door at the start of third period, just letting yourself in and closing it behind you. 

“So what’s so urgent?” She said, sitting at a lab table and cracking open a Diet Coke. “You look like death.” 

You wordlessly pulled the Walgreens bag from your purse, getting the test out and setting it on the plastic. 

“Oh fuck,” Louisa stared at it for a second, her mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh Honey,” she leaned forward and hugged you. It took you a moment to hug her back. She sat back down. You still felt numb. “When did you find out?” 

“This morning,” you said, staring straight ahead. “I kept getting sick, went to a pharmacy to see what I could get, they asked if I was pregnant and…” 

“It didn’t occur to you otherwise?” She asked, brows raised. “Hon, you teach bio. You’re getting ready to go to med school.” 

“I know, I’m a fucking idiot,” you groaned. “I don’t know how this happened…” 

“Please tell me this is the product of some fling you had that you never told me about and not the guy who broke your heart so bad you were basically catatonic for a week,” she said. 

“Cute that you think I’m capable of having a fling,” you muttered. She groaned. “I know. This is the worst case scenario, I don’t know what the hell to do…” 

“Do you know if you want to keep it or not yet?” She asked gently. 

“I don’t know,” your hand drifted to your lower stomach again. “You’re a single parent, what do you think I should do?” 

“I can’t answer that for you, Hon,” she covered the hand that was resting on the table with hers. “First of all, I was 29 when I got pregnant and happily married - or so I thought. Yeah, my husband was screwing around on me but I was none the wiser then. You’re, what, 23?” 

“I’m 24,” you stared at her hand on yours. 

“You’re basically a kid yourself,” she said. You snorted. Kid. Joel’d always seen you as a kid, even after years together. “And you’d be on your own from the get go. That’s a lot to consider.” 

You just nodded slowly. 

“Have you told the asshole?” She asked. 

“Can you not call him that?” You frowned. 

“He broke my friend’s heart, I should call him a lot worse,” she said. “But fine. Because of your delicate condition…” you smiled and she smiled back. “Have you told Joel?” 

“No,” you said. “And I don’t know that I should. Ever. Even if I decide to keep it.” 

“You’d really keep his child a secret from him?” She frowned. “Honey…” 

“He’s just…” you felt like you were about to cry. “He’s the most dedicated father on the planet. The second I told him he’d uproot his whole life. All for something he doesn’t want. He already gave up everything once for a kid he didn’t plan for, I’m not going to make him do that again. He doesn’t want me, I’m not going to force it on him. I live far enough away now, I could never see him again. It’d be easy to never see him again, he’d never have to know.” 

You looked down to the hand against your stomach, covering the place where part of him was growing inside you. 

Part of you loved the idea of having a piece of him with you forever. But it seemed cruel, putting that on a child. And bringing a child into the world without their father’s knowledge. 

“Fuck,” you sighed. 

“I’ll support you, whatever you decide to do,” she said. “Want a clinic ride? I’ve got your back. Want tips on getting a crying baby to quiet down? I’ve got those. It’ll be OK. Whatever route you choose, it’ll be OK.” 

Thursday, September 25, 2003 

“That’s really still all you can eat,” Jessica, Louisa’s 13-year-old daughter was leaning across her mother’s kitchen counter at you. You broke off another piece of Clif bar and popped it in your mouth. 

“Unfortunately yes,” you said. “Don’t get knocked up, it’s no fun.” 

She cocked her head. “Can I try one?” She asked. You made a face. 

“Why.” 

She shrugged. 

“It looks good,” she said. You looked at her skeptically. “You make it look like it would be good. Because you’re so pretty.” 

You narrowed your eyes. 

“What do you want.” 

“Can you get my mom to let me go to a party tomorrow?” She asked quickly. “Everyone’s going…” 

“You can’t go,” Louisa cut her daughter off. “Stop trying to get your aunt to help butter me up, it won’t work.” 

“Mom,” she groaned, dragging the word out. “Please! I’ll clean the house for a month!” 

“Gotta put in that work beforehand,” she shook her head. “Not happening.” 

“Ugh!” Jessica stomped off to her room and slammed the door. Louisa sighed. 

“See what you’ve got to look forward to?” She muttered. 

“Counting the days,” you broke off another piece of Clif bar. 

“Know if you’re telling him or not?” She asked, sitting next to you at the breakfast bar. You sighed. 

“I’m leaning towards telling him,” you said. “It doesn’t feel right to have his kid and have him not know about it.” 

“It would be a rough situation,” she nodded. “I think telling him is right. He should know there’s a little human that’s half his wandering around out in the world.” 

“Did I tell you my friend Cassie from college got engaged?” You asked. She shook her head. “Well, she did. To the guy she’s been dating for less than a year. I probably should have figured this wasn’t going to stick when we were still just dating after three years… Anyway. Her engagement party is in October in Austin. I was thinking I could fly down, I shouldn’t be showing much yet. Could always just wear a flowy dress or something. See if he’ll talk to me and decide then.” 

“That will give you a bit more time to think,” she said. 

“I’ll have time to come up with a plan,” you nodded slowly. “That’s what I really need before I have this conversation. A plan for him to not need to be involved. We can play pass the baby once they’re old enough if he wants, ship them across the country to visit Dad for the summer. Alternate Christmases. But I’ll have a plan so that he doesn’t need to do anything. No child support, no obligation to me, nothing.” 

You sighed, taking a sip of water. 

“You know what really sucks about all this?” You asked. 

“What?” She said. 

“I really fucking need a glass of wine.” 

Louisa barked a laugh. 

“Yeah,” she said. “You really do.” 

“His birthday’s tomorrow,” you said, staring at the wall. “Think I’ll text him. See if he’d be OK seeing me in October.” 

“Have you talked to him since…” 

“Nope,” you ate the last of the Clif bar. “Not a word.” 

“Fucker,” she muttered. 

“It’s a clean break,” you shrugged. “He wanted out. I don’t blame him.” 

Louisa sighed. 

“I’m sorry you’re going through this but I think you’ll be happy this way,” she said eventually. “You’re going to be the fucking best mom. And for all the asshole’s…” 

“Joel’s,” you interrupted her. 

“For all Joel’s faults,” she corrected herself. “He will be a devoted dad. Even from afar.” 

You leaned your head on her shoulder. 

“I know you’re right,” you sighed. 

“You’ll get there, Kid,” she said. You smiled a little. You’d never told her what Joel used to call you. It still made you happy to hear it. “You’ll get there.” 

Friday, September 26, 2003 

It was a nice night. The air was cool, crisp. Cool enough that you’d thrown on a sweatshirt before going to lay in the grass in your grandmother’s back yard. 

You couldn’t be happier that the week was over. Pregnancy was exhausting, you were tired all the time and the steady diet of nothing but Clif bars had gotten old really fast - though it was better than the constant vomiting. The cashier at the camping store in town had looked at you like you were crazy when you’d ordered several hundred of the damn things but, at a certain point, you were tired of going to the store for the same stupid thing every week when they had the half life of plutonium. You’d just picked up your stash earlier in the week and you’d been rotating through the flavors, pretending that made it so you were eating something different. 

When you’d had lunch with Louisa that day, she told you she’d caved and told Jessica she could go to the party. Jessica was giddy. But Louisa had texted you just after you got outside, asking if you could watch for a text from Jessica if she needed anything later. She wasn’t feeling well, needed to lie down.

Something was probably going around. Nan had gone to bed early herself, complaining of a headache and just generally not feeling well. You were giving it until Monday, then you would call her oncologist. See if the cancer was back. Fuck, you hoped it wasn’t back. But you’d just have to cross that bridge… 

You’d managed to text Joel earlier, too. It had gone better than you’d expected. You wrote and deleted the text four times before you sent it. “Happy birthday! Hope you’re doing well, old man.” You just hoped he’d respond, give you an in to see if he’d meet you in October. He replied almost instantly. 

“Thanks, Kid. Hanging in there. How’s life up north?” 

You hesitated. You didn’t want to look too eager. 

“Not bad. Already ready for the school year to be done. How’s Sarah?” 

He replied quickly again. 

“Good. Loves her classes so far. Made me eggs with shells for breakfast.” 

You laughed. 

“Crunchy. Cassie got engaged. I was thinking of coming down for the party in October. Would you want to get coffee?” 

There was a longer pause this time, but he eventually replied. 

“How about dinner?” 

You smiled. You doubted you’d be able to eat much but dinner with Joel sounded like heaven. 

“Dinner works! I’ll let you know when I know details. Try not to break a hip, old man.” 

“Take care of yourself, Kid.” 

The sky was clear and wide and you wished you knew more about the constellations. You knew the big dipper and the north star, but otherwise were at a loss. You tried to invent new ones when the soft sounds of crickets and the breeze was broken by the roar of jet engines. Two small planes streaked overhead, flying low. You frowned, sitting up and turning to watch them. 

They looked… military? Like something out of “Top Gun.” Which didn’t make any sense, you’d never seen planes like that near you. They disappeared from view and you were about to lie back down when the scream of engines returned. This time, there was a huge plane, flying lower than you were used to seeing. You could see the red, white and blue paint on the side. The smaller jets flew alongside it for a moment before falling back and you saw something launch from one of the smaller planes, streaking across the sky until it collided with the bigger plane, exploding on impact and sending the bigger plane crashing to the Earth. 

“Oh my God!” 

You didn’t remember standing up but you were on your feet, running toward where the plane would come down. The smaller jets tore off, engines roaring, and you felt as the larger plane hit the ground, the force of the impact shaking the Earth and knocking you down. The plane landed in the field of the lavender farm, an orange fireball casting the farmhouse in a ghoulish silhouette. 

You just stared for a second. It didn’t make sense. Why would fighter jets shoot down a fucking passenger plane? Would anyone have survived? Was there anything you could do? Was there another terrorist attack, were people crashing planes into buildings again, was that why? 

Your hands shook as you went for your phone, just staring. You were fumbling with it, trying to open it to call 911 when the screen lit up. It was Joel. You managed to answer. 

“Joel?” Your voice shook. 

“Baby,” he sounded frantic. “Thank fuck, are you OK?” 

How did he know? It couldn’t be on the news yet, how could he know? 

“I’m OK,” you said. You were in a daze. There was so much fire… “What’s happening? I was outside, there were jets… they shot down a fucking plane, Joel, are we under attack?” 

“Has anyone tried to hurt you?” 

You tried to make sense of the question. Aside from almost having a plane shot down on your head? 

“No,” you said. “Joel, what’s happening, why are you asking me that?” 

“Somethin’s happening,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what the fuck it is but people are going crazy, one of the Adlers just tried to kill Sarah…” 

“What!” You screamed it. “Is she…” 

“She’s OK. But they’re not the only ones, there’s somethin’ happening,” he said. “Baby, I need you to listen to me, do exactly what I tell you, OK?” 

“Joel…” 

“Remember all the gear we got for our hiking trip last year?” He asked. You just nodded for a moment before you remembered that you’d need to talk. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I remember.” 

“Good,” he said. “Go get that. All of it, pack your backpack and only take what you need to survive. Get food you can live off of for a bit. Your grandma still have that shotgun?” 

“Yes,” you were still watching the plane burn. 

“Good,” he said again. “Get that, too. And all the ammunition. Car have gas?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Try to make sure you can carry everything you need and have it ready to go but load your car. Try to get to Martha’s Vineyard, OK?” “Martha’s… why?” 

“Sounds like it might just be the cities,” he said quickly. “Get there. Far enough from the cities but enough rich people that they’ll keep it safe. I’ll come get you, OK? I’m coming to get you.” 

“Joel,” your voice broke. 

“You kill anyone who comes near you, you hear me?” He said. “It’s going to come down to you livin’ or them, make sure it’s you.” 

“I can’t just kill people, Joel…” 

“Yes you can, Baby,” he sounded so desperate. “Yes you can. Protect yourself, keep yourself safe, that’s all that matters. I’ve got Sarah and Tommy, we’re coming to get you. I love you. I love you so much, don’t let anyone take you from me, do you understand?” 

“I love you too,” you breathed. 

“I’m coming to get you, Baby,” he said. “Stay safe. Please, please, Baby, stay safe.” 

“Dad!” You could barely hear Sarah’s shriek before the call dropped. 

“Joel?” You knew it was useless but you yelled into the phone anyway. “Joel!” 

You tried to call again but just got the dissonant sound of a call failing to connect. 

“Martha’s Vineyard,” you said to yourself, forcing yourself to run for your house. “Martha’s Vineyard.” 

You went to the basement and found all the gear from your hiking trip, packing it as quickly as you could while keeping things somewhat organized. You still had a fair bit of room left in the large hiking pack when you lugged it up to the kitchen. You grabbed all the Clif bars plus some of the protein drinks your grandmother’s doctors had told her to drink. You grabbed water, too. 

“Nan!” You yelled, tucking the shotgun below your arm as you headed upstairs. “You awake?” 

You were sure she was, there’s no way she slept through the plane crash. 

“We have to go, Nan,” you called as you went to your room, grabbing a few pairs of clean underwear, socks and a waterproof jacket. There was still a bit of room in your pack, so you grabbed your quilt off your bed. You could always ditch it if you absolutely needed to later, but for now you had the space and you wanted it with you. You pulled the pictures you had of you, Joel and Sarah from their frames and stashed them in a pocket on the pack. You grabbed your favorites of you and your grandmother, too, and the one you had of you and Becca. You grabbed your phone charger. 

“Nan?” You took one last look around your room, hoping you’d see it again. You weren’t so sure you would. There was a scraping sound behind you and you turned. Your grandmother stood in the doorway but she didn’t look quite right. Her head was cocked, her arms dangling. Her eyes looked dead. 

“Nan?” You frowned, walking over to her. “Are you feeling OK? We have to go…”

You never had the chance to offer to pack her a bag. A horrific snarl ripped from her throat and she lunged for you, fingers reaching and grasping. 

“Nan!” You caught her by the shoulders, her teeth bared. “Nan, stop it’s me!” 

Her nails dragged down your neck, ripping through skin. She pulled back from you just enough to launch herself at you again, knocking you prone. “Nan!” 

It was like something else had taken over her body, her clawing hands and gnashing teeth straining to reach you. “Nan, please!” 

You shoved her as hard as you could, sending her slamming into your dresser. She hit her head, blood splattering on the flowers you’d painted on the drawer fronts. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing the pack and slinging it on your back before picking up the gun. You tried to back out of the room, not wanting to turn your back on your grandmother. She snarled and rose onto all fours, pulling herself toward you. 

Time slowed and you heard Joel’s voice in your head. “Don’t let anyone take you from me.” His child was inside you. He was coming for you. You had to live to get to him. 

You raised the gun and fired, the recoil sending you stumbling back as your grandmother’s body flew away from you with the force of the blast. She lay sprawled on the ground, a horrible screaming sound all but deafening you. It took you a moment to realize that it was you making the sound, a choking sob cutting it off. You aimed the gun at the ground, cautiously approaching her, hoping that the blast had somehow killed whatever has possessed her but left her intact. Your shot had caught her in the chest, a gaping hole in her rib cage. You dropped to your knees beside her body, her eyes staring emptily up at the ceiling. 

“I’m so sorry Nan,” you choked out, smoothing her hair back. “I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m so sorry…”

You almost didn’t see it through your tears, the creeping, fibrous tentacle sliding through her lips. You scrambled back, gasping for breath through rasping sobs as it reached and groped. You forced yourself to your feet and staggered from the room, feeling almost drunk. 

It almost didn’t feel like you were safe to drive but you had to keep moving. You grabbed your keys, leaning on the counter in the kitchen for support, and stumbled into your driveway. Another fighter jet shrieked overhead and you instinctively ducked, but no other planes fell out of the sky. The horizon still burned, the air smelling like smoke. You put your bag in the back seat and the shotgun in the passenger seat, some extra ammo tucked in your pockets. You took a second and reloaded the gun, holding the wheel for a moment. You had no fucking clue how to get to Martha’s Vineyard and the only maps in your car were for New York State and NYC. Just as you were trying to come up with a plan, your phone rang. 

“Joel?” You said quickly. 

“It’s Jessica,” she was sobbing. “My mom, there’s something wrong with my mom, I don’t know…” 

“Get out of the house,” you said quickly. “I’ll come get you, don’t touch her don’t try to help her, just run! I’m coming to get you, just run Jessica, do you hear me?” 

“OK,” she said, breathless. “Don’t leave me…”

“Not leaving you,” you said. “Just hanging up for now. Avoid people, avoid anyone who isn’t me. I’m coming for you.” 

You were almost thankful for a direction to go in. You had to get away from your house, from your grandmother’s body and the thing inside it, from what you’d done there. Jessica was a place to go, a purpose. You drove fast. 

Louisa and Jessica’s place was a townhouse and the area around it was chaos. Several cars had crashed near the entrance to the neighborhood and one was burning. People were scrambling to load cars. One man was boarding up his windows with a rifle strapped to his back. As you got closer to Louisa and Jessica’s unit, there were bodies, splayed on the ground in unnatural positions. You parked haphazardly in front of their place, grabbing the shotgun and locking the doors as you left the car. 

“Jessica!” You yelled, gun up and ready to fire. “It’s me, where are you?” 

There was an inhuman shriek from behind you and you spun, gun up. A woman who looked vaguely familiar - you were pretty sure you’d seen her walking her dog when you sat on Louisa’s porch with a beer in your hand - was running for you, her arms outstretched. You didn’t hesitate this time, aiming for her stomach, the shot knocking you off balance and sending you stumbling back over a body on the ground behind you. You fell but the woman did too, her going immediately still. You shook, breathless, staring at her. You’d killed her. Your hand went to your lower stomach. You’d killed her. She might have been gone before you shot her but you’d killed her. 

You leaned over and threw up, what little you’d eaten that day coming up. 

“What’s happening?” 

You looked behind you. Jessica was shaking. There were scratches and blood on her knees and it looked like Louisa had gotten her the same way your grandmother had gotten you, long scratches that looked like they were from a human hand down her arm. 

“Hey,” you tried to smile reassuringly and then remembered that you’d tripped over a dead body. You scrambled back. 

“My mom…” her eyes were wide, wild. 

“I’m sorry, Jessica,” you said softly as you got to your feet. You brushed her hair back, holding her face in your hands. “I’m so sorry but she’s gone, whatever is inside your house isn’t your mom anymore.” 

“What?” Her eyes went wider, she started hyperventilating. 

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “I know. But I have a plan, OK? And part of the plan is getting out of here. You and me. We’re going to get through this.” 

She just nodded, still gasping for breath. You put an arm around her, the gun in your other hand, watching for whatever might come running for you. But nothing did. You made it back to the car without an issue, putting Jessica in the passenger seat. You reloaded the gun and grabbed the compass from the side pocket of the backpack, giving both to Jessica. 

“Just keep the gun handy, OK?” You said. “Don’t shoot anyone, just give it to me when I ask you for it, OK?” 

“OK,” she nodded quickly. 

“The compass is going to be what I need you for most,” you said, driving slowly back the way you came through the neighborhood. “I don’t have a map for where we’re headed. I can get us there but I’ll need some help navigating.” 

“Where are we going?” She asked. 

“An island,” you said. “Where there’s hopefully less of… whatever this is. We’re meeting Joel there.” 

“Joel?” She looked at you. “The guy my mom says is a douchebag?” 

You laughed a little even though there was nothing funny about this situation. But Jessica reminded you of her mom and it was what you needed. 

“He’s not. Well, he’s not all the time,” you said. You passed the burning cars, pulling slowly onto the main road. “What matters is, I’m going to keep you safe. OK?” 

“OK,” she nodded, swallowing hard. 

You immediately went for the back country roads, hoping there would be fewer burning cars and possessed people. And there were, for about an hour. It was almost eerily quiet, you driving slow with just the running lights, wanting to avoid drawing attention to yourselves. But as you got closer to another town, you heard the faint sound of a helicopter. You pulled off the road and shut off the car. 

“Stay put,” you ordered Jessica. 

“What’s going on?” She asked. 

“I don’t know what that helicopter is doing here and I don’t want to find out,” you said. “So we’re just going to lay low.” 

“But what if they could help?” 

You shook your head. 

“We can’t afford to trust them,” you said. “We don’t know who they are or what their job here is…” 

As if on cue, there was a spray of gunfire down the middle of the road, the chopper flying overhead. You ducked down low, grabbing Jessica and tucking her head down, too. You heard bullets hit your trunk and glass break behind you. Jessica sobbed. You held her down until the helicopter left, trying to not hyperventilate. “Don’t let anyone take you from me.”

You tried to start the car again but the engine wouldn’t turn over. You realized it must have been shot. It was sheer luck that you’d been missed. You pulled your sweatshirt over your head and handed it to Jessica. She just looked at it. 

“It’s chilly,” you said. “You dressed for a party tonight, not to go traipsing through the country side. We’ll find something that fits you tomorrow but for now, you’ll need this.” 

She took it, holding it in her hands for a moment, staring down at it. 

“Whose blood is it?” She asked. “I saw it, earlier, when you picked me up. Whose blood is it?” 

You hadn’t even realized there’d been blood on it. 

“Probably my grandmother’s,” you said softly. “She… She was like your mom.” 

She nodded, pulling it on. While she did, you tried calling Joel one more time. It wouldn’t connect. 

You got your backpack out of the car and clung to the gun. 

“We’re going to get through this,” you said, as much to convince yourself as it was to convince her. “We’ve got this.” 

She nodded at you. You took a deep breath. 

“Let’s go.” 

***

Saturday, September 27, 2003

The sun was up. It didn’t feel right that the sun was up. How could the sun be up. 

“Joel.” 

Tommy’s voice felt very far away. Everything felt very far way. 

“Joel, we have to keep moving,” he said. “C’mon. If we stay here much longer, trouble’s gonna find us, we have to go.” 

He got up. Part of him was aware that his body hurt but it was hard to actually feel it. Any pain in his body was a relief. It was better than burning, stabbing, gaping wound at the center of him. Anything, anything to take away from that was a blessing. 

They’d already passed dozens of bodies. They kept off the highway, sticking to tree lines where they could, Tommy’s head on a swivel when they couldn’t. 

Joel couldn’t bring himself to care enough to watch for anything. Every body they passed was a reminder. Sarah was gone. He’d held her body, she was gone, he’d never hear her or see her or touch her again. He’d been right there, right there and he couldn’t save her. She was gone. 

The dead made him think of you, too. There were so many bodies. He hadn’t been able to save Sarah. There had been no one there to save you. 

You were a lot of things. Brilliant. Funny. Beautiful. You weren’t a killer. You were too kind, too sweet to survive something like this. You’d have taken pity on someone who turned on you, someone who slit your throat for your pack or shot you to take your car. Or you wouldn’t be able to hurt someone who came at you in that foreign, inhuman way. You’d wait a second too long and they’d rip you to pieces. God, he hoped it had been quick for you. He hoped that they’d just killed you and hadn’t done worse to you first, just because they could. Whatever had gotten you, he hoped you hadn’t felt it. That it hadn’t been like Sarah, gasping and choking and in pain. 

“Joel.” 

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking. The sun was low in the sky again. 

“We should stop here,” Tommy said. “Good vantage points…” 

Joel didn’t say anything. He just stood there. 

“You hear me?” Tommy said. 

“What?” Joel asked. 

“I said stay here,” he said. “Saw something down that hill, looked like a truck for a grocery store. I’m going to see if I can grab some food for us.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Joel.” 

He looked up. Tommy looked like he was in pain. 

“Just sit tight, OK?” He said. “Just sit tight.” 

Joel watched him leave, standing and staring at nothing. 

There was nothing left for him here. Nothing. Without Sarah, without you, it wasn’t worth it. Life before whatever was happening wasn’t worth it without Sarah, without you. Now? How could it be. 

He sniffed and pulled out his gun. 

He thought, for a moment, about the last time the three of you had been all together. It was the day you flew back to New York. The two of you had woken up early, decided to have coffee by the pool, go for a swim before Sarah woke up for the day. She was a teenager, she slept late. He made love to you in the water. You tasted like coffee and cherry chapstick. You smelled like lavender, even with the chlorine. You were soft and warm and felt like home.

When Sarah got up, you and Joel had already dressed for the day. Your bags were by the door. Sarah asked if you’d make French Toast and you’d agreed, as long as she helped. He watched the two of you in the kitchen, Sarah picking egg shells out from the batter because she’d never quite gotten the hang of cracking eggs. She was singing some pop song that grated on Joel whenever it came on the radio but he liked it when Sarah sang it. You bobbed your head along to it, using the spatula as a drumstick on the stove top. The coffee was hot and smooth. The world felt right. 

He held onto the moment in his mind, pressing the gun against his head. He wasn’t sure he believed in an afterlife but he hoped it would be like that. Just that one morning, on loop, over and over and over again. Just him and Sarah and you, until the end of all things. 

He started pulling the trigger when he heard your voice, so clear it was like you were standing next to him. 

“I’ll always love you, Joel. Til the day I die.” 

He flinched. 

[cowgurrrl]

Don't Let This Darkness Fool You

Summary: Joel's journey to sobriety [1.1k]

Author's note: idk how i feel about this

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, ANGST, TW ADDICTION, misuse of drugs and alcohol, mention of Sarah's death and Ellie's time in FEDRA school, chronic pain, symptoms of withdrawal, Joel trying to make peace with his past, happy ending

The first time Joel goes to a meeting, he sits in the back and says nothing. He watches person after person get up and talk at the front of the room like it's the easiest thing in the world. He doesn't move. He can barely breathe in the musty church rec room as he listens to their stories and finds pieces of himself in each. The survivor left to carry on when everyone else died or left; the bereaved parent; the ruthless dealer shaking down clients to make ends meet; the addict.

Joel never felt the need to examine his relationship with substances. He drank and smoked and made bad decisions as a teenager and into young adulthood, which is partly how he became a single parent at twenty-two. After Sarah was born, he didn't have the time or energy to party anymore. Sure, he had a beer or two here, but never anything close to a bender. He always had to wake up for work and make sure Sarah got to school on time. He would just be setting himself up for failure if he drank heavily.

Then Sarah died, and nothing mattered anymore. The FEDRA doctor gave him a bottle of painkillers for the stitches on the side of his head, and he never thought twice about it. At first, it was manageable. A drink here, some pills there. His kid had just died. He was allowed to grieve however he wanted to, or that was his reasoning, at least, when it became harder to get under control. He would go from being fine to the throes of withdrawal and back to the hazy stupor that rendered him incapable of function. It was a cycle. One that Tess and Tommy hated, but he was always sober when they needed him to be, or he tried to be.

That entire year spent with Ellie, he was more scared of what would happen if he did touch the stuff than if he didn't. His objective was no longer how fast he could get his next fix. It was how fast he could get Ellie fed or somewhere safe. When they finally settled in Jackson, he felt like he could relax without the help of a neat whiskey or a handful of menacing white pills. He was good. He kicked his nasty little habit that followed him for decades and cold turkey at that. He was fine. Until the trauma from the previous twelve months finally caught up with him.

His back was permanently fucked up from falling off the horse in Colorado. He got horrible headaches, which were probably the result of one too many hits to the head and neck. His wrist clicked in pain every time he moved it too fast, and he couldn't sleep. The Jackson doctor cautiously prescribed him anti-anxiety medication and painkillers. And goddammit, if those little pills didn't make him feel the tiniest bit better. He could feel the spiral start again but was too scared to voice it or ask for help.

It wasn't until that night when he stumbled home drunk and a little high after a patrol shift and found Ellie doing homework at the dinner table. He slurred an apology, and she eyed him like a dangerous stranger when he sat across from her. They got into a fight. Joel doesn't remember what it was about, but he remembers going to bed feeling stone-cold sober even though the alcohol was still thrumming through his veins. In the morning, Ellie admitted that she hated when he drank because it reminded her of the FEDRA soldiers loudly coming home from QZ bars. Drunk men with authority and weapons are enough to scare anyone, let alone a little girl. Joel promised her it would never happen again, and he fully intended to keep his promise, but he'd be lying if he said it was easy to quit.

His hands shook in pain for the first few days, and he constantly felt sick. He was sweaty and irritable and uncomfortable. It didn't help that the other patrolmen would ask him to join them for a drink after patrols. He almost folded once. He was almost over the threshold of the Tipsy Bison before he doubled back and ended up at Tommy's door, crumpling in on himself from pain and withdrawal. It was Tommy who mentioned something about the drug addict's anonymous support group. "I'll even come with ya." His brother offered as he rubbed his back like Joel was a fussy infant instead of a grown man.

So, that's how Joel found himself white-knuckling his way through a DAA meeting with Tommy at his side. Tommy assured him that everything said in the meeting was privileged and couldn't leave the church doors. Joel was safe to say anything, and he would receive support. Still, he was so scared. He just sat and watched. It would take two more months of tears, sleepless nights, and fighting temptation before he found the strength to walk down to the front of the room.

"Hi, my name's Joel and… I'm, uh," he stumbled. "I'm an addict." He shared the bits of his story he felt comfortable sharing, but his hands wrung nervously the whole time. He was waiting for the room to turn on him or for the world to end (again), but it didn't. He said the worst things about himself and everything was… fine. "I just… wanna do better for my," he breathed deeply. "For my Ellie." He awkwardly thanked the group and moved to sit back down when the group leader, a kind-looking woman named Shawna, stopped him.

"How long have you been sober, Joel?" She asked softly, and he cleared his throat.

"'Bout four months, ma'am." He said, and she quickly turned to grab something out of her bag. Before he could ask what she was looking for, she pressed a dented circle into his hand and smiled.

"Now, it ain't as pretty as the ones back in the day, but you should be just as proud." She said before encouraging the group to applaud Joel. He felt silly receiving the praise, but when he sat back down, he couldn't ignore how much better he felt.

He didn't look at what Shawna gave him until after the meeting. He thought it was a personal thing he should see only when alone. He waited until his boots were off and he was comfortable on the couch before fishing the wonky thing out of his pocket and looking at it. It was obviously made from scrap pieces of metal, and the engraving was all wrong, but the words "4 months sober" still made him beam with pride. Joel stared at it for a few minutes before walking upstairs to Ellie's empty room and scribbling a note on her desk.

When Ellie gets home from studying with Dina and Jesse, she finds the coin on her desk beside a note in Joel's blocky handwriting. It reads, "Every single one is for you. It's all for you."

[kamimarroco]

First time meeting Ren

Good morning, good afternoon and good night everyone! I brought another BTD fanfic that I worked on for a few days, and I confess that it gave me a bit of work. Anyway, the title gives it all away, and also, it can be considered a sequel to my first story. Enjoy it!

As your eyes felt heavy, the complete darkness of the basement was inviting, your eyelids slowly closing in the face of exhaustion and the pain of freshly inflicted wounds. Usually you weren't one to admit this, but your captor really made you feel the worst possible sensation with this last torture session. Maybe he was too excited about the discovery of your immortality and the possibilities that fact opened up for him. You still remember the smile of genuine euphoria on his face when he saw you returning from the dead, breathing like any other living being. At that point, everything went downhill.

Without anything else to do and with drowsiness already affecting you, you allowed yourself to sleep peacefully in the face of this situation. Even though you were still tied to a pole and the pain from the bruises continued to burn, you just wanted to escape it for a moment. Who knows, maybe you'll wake up in your bed and realize it was all just a terrible nightmare. And then, you would laugh and tell your friends about this madness like it was no big deal. If that weren't the case, then you'd be content to dream about cotton candy or pudding, it doesn't really matter.

These thoughts brought a smile to your face as your consciousness switched off, finally being able to rest from this fucking hell, your breathing becoming regular and deep.

[...]

Because you had nothing to guide you about the time, you didn't know how many hours had passed since you slept. The only thing you were sure of was the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs, as if someone wanted to go unnoticed. Well, bad for that person, because you noticed their presence the moment they entered the basement. Even so, you didn't bother opening your eyes to find out who it was.

“So you're that immortal girl he talked about so much? Damn, you look just like any other”, a young, male voice said, making you confused and forcing you to finally open your eyes to satisfy your curiosity. "Hehe, I knew you were awake”

Looking carefully, you noticed that it was a young, short boy with visible red hair. You would have considered him an ordinary boy if it weren't for his fox ears and tail. Goddammit, you had no idea your captor had another prisoner.

“If I'm not wrong, either you are cosplaying or you are a beastkin”, you stated your first observations. “And to be more exact, I'm a grown-ass up woman”, your tone sounded a little irritated.

“For a grown woman, you sure don't have the manners of a lady”, arms crossed, the tail twitched methodically, flat ears on the head and a judgmental look on his face.

You sighed, trying to regain your posture. “Right, sorry. I'm probably just taking my anger out on you”, you hoped your words sounded sincere, wanting to lighten the mood. “You know, can't expect someone to be in a good mood when trapped in a basement”

The beastkin looked to the side, seeming to relax for a moment. “It's alright, I know how it feels"

“Yeah, I kinda figured it out”, you said, referring to the scars and the collar around the boy's neck. Some of the injuries on his body were fresh while others were completely healed. “It seems like you've been experiencing it longer than I have”

“You can say that”, he closed the distance between you and him, crouching down to look at you closely from top to bottom. You hadn't paid attention before, but his amber eyes were very beautiful to look at. “Looks like he didn't bother to take care of your wounds. Do you want me to help you?”

“You are gorgeous”, those words left your lips without a filter, making him blush slightly. “I would be very grateful if you helped me”

“Right…”, still embarrassed by the compliment, the boy got up and started searching for something in the basement cupboards. With his back turned to you, you could see the fox tail more clearly and observe its movements from side to side, your eyes completely mesmerized by the animalistic feature. Come on, it's not every day you come across an almost human being with animal parts, this could be your only chance to see something like this.

“Enjoying the view?”, he asked as he grabbed a medical kit, turning to face you.

You immediately looked away, embarrassed that you had been caught staring for so long. “I wasn't looking at anything…”, you made the cliché move of denying your attitude.

“Let's say I believe it”, he chuckled as he crouched down again to treat your injuries, taking some objects from the medical kit. “This might hurt a little, so be prepared”

“Don't worry about me, go on”, you said in a confident tone. As he cautiously brought his hands closer to your wounds, you couldn't help but eagerly anticipate the touch. And no matter how much you mentally prepared yourself for the moment, the cloth moistened with alcohol still made you groan in pain, the burning sensation making you grind your teeth. Still, this was nothing compared to Strade's playtime, so you tried to do your best to look strong during the process.

You could see a look of admiration on his face as you occasionally glanced at him, your attention more focused on the treatment of the wounds. The striking color of your blood, so beautiful and bright… Was that why Strade got excited so quickly?

Well, whatever, the important thing is that your wounds were finally being disinfected, which would save you from future problems. Being already used to the pain, it didn't take long for him to take care of the rest, making you let out a sigh of relief.

“And it's done”, the beastkin spoke as he finished his work, getting up to put the medical kit back in the cupboard. “You surprised me, I thought you would at least complain about the pain”

“I couldn't make myself vulnerable so easily in front of a boy younger than me”

“Come on, I'm not that young”, he put his hands on his hips, a smirk on his face. “Maybe you're just too old”, he chuckled.

“You know, it's rude to ask a woman her age”, you looked at him with a smile on your face, enjoying the moment the two of you were sharing. “Besides, I've been through worse”, remembering the origin of the bruises sent shivers down your spine.

“I know exactly what you mean”, his eyes stared at the ground, his facial expression changing to a more serious one. “Anyway, I think I stayed here too long. He probably noticed that”, the boy stated as he approached the stairs.

“Wait!”, you called him, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to attract attention. “Thank you for taking care of my bruises, and I'm sorry for being rude earlier”, you said softly while maintaining eye contact. “Can I at least know your name?”

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment, but then began to speak. “It's Ren. You can call me Ren”

Ren... It was a beautiful name to say. “It's a cute name, it suits you”, you stated without hesitation. “You can call me by my legal name”

“Really? And what would it be?”

“It's…”

As you spoke your name, you saw his smile returning to his face, seeing a sparkle in his amber eyes when he heard you, ears twitching along with his tail.

“It's a good name, I think it suits you”, he gave you a compliment before leaving. “Maybe I'll see you again, who knows”

“Yeah, maybe…”, you whispered as you saw the boy going up the stairs, hearing the sound of the door being locked seconds later. Without any more company, you sighed, looking at the blood-stained floor as you waited for something to happen again.

[iicheeze]

𝐏𝐎𝐕: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

Inspired by the song; It's Not Like I Like You.

Childe or Tartaglia X Tsundere Gender Neutral Reader | High School AU

a/n: SORRY FOR EVERYONE WHO TOLD ME A MISTAKE I MADE HERE I WAS HALF ASLEEP AND I DIDN'T KNOW 😭 THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME THO

It all started when your second year of high school started. You expected another normal high school year. Just much more difficult lessons and possibly new students and teachers. It's not like you're gonna need to pay attention to their names or whatever.

Until that new kouhai (underclassmen) from Snezhnaya High moved to Liyue High. The very same high school you attend. Of course, you were planning to just ignore him and just focus on your academics and friends.

Until he confessed to you.

Out of nowhere.

In the middle of a bustling hallway.

In front of everyone.

“ You're absolutely beautiful.. Be my lover? ” He crouched with one knee, kissing your hand.

“ HELL NO!!! WHO EVEN ARE YOU?? ”

Ever since that encounter, he's been courting you in any possible moment. He'll find you during lunch time, class breaks, mornings before the school starts, even after school!!

“ You look great today, senpai! However, it'd look better with me beside you. ” “ Shut up!! ”

“ Do you wanna eat lunch together, senpai? I can feed you and maybe you can feed me as well! ” “ No way in hell I will!! ”

“ Senpai.. I might need tutoring in History. Can you teach me?? ” “ I'm busy!! ” “ But I just heard that you're free this weekend- ” “ Shut up!! ”

He flirts with you, talks to you, and even asks for tutoring every now and then, only for you to harshly reject him.

Of course, a lot of girls bash you for this. Calling you unpleasant nicknames, making up rumors about you which is obviously isn't true, and even push you to lockers. That's the least of your concerns, though.

It's the ginger's fault!! Ever since he came into your life, it's been disastrous like there's no tomorrow!

You hate every second of interacting with him. You hate everytime he talks to you. You hate everytime he sometimes helps you with your problems. You hate how he flirts with you, pointing out the little things about you that you've never paid any attention to. You hate how he makes you feel accompanied. You hate how he makes you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You hate how he was always there for you, even in unwanted times.

Wait a minute.

No way.

Are you falling for him?!

No way! You refuse! There's no way you're falling in love with that stupid kouhai of yours!!

Plus, you know how the other girls look at him. He's probably a playboy, anyways. Yet, you can't help but feel a thousand arrows going through your heart when you thought about what he could be doing with the others.

He could treat others the same as you. There's no way he fell in love with first sight. It has to be a trick of some sort.

You refuse to acknowledge that you're in love with that stupid ginger.

This is probably just a puppy crush. That's right! It's probably just a small crush. It'll pass soon. You don't actually like like him! Bleh. Love. It's not like you have time for it anyways!

It was just another day in Liyue High. As your English lesson teacher, Ms. Lisa, left the classroom. You knew it was a break between lessons. As you then expected your stupid kouhai coming through the sliding door.

Yet, he wasn't there. His bright ginger hair is nowhere to be seen. Nor is his signature smile. Surely he's just late, right?

But no. Your biology teacher came as 10 minutes had already passed, with your kouhai nowhere to be seen. Wait a minute, why are you expecting him in the first place?!?! Stupid [Name].

Time passed by like a snail trying to win a race with a turtle. It felt slow, and unmoving. Usually it passes by like a breeze. Is it because your mind is always occupied with Tartaglia's annoyingness? Tch. Whatever. He's probably just pranking you. Take your mind off of him, goddammit!

But then another day came, and another, and another. Yet Tartaglia was nowhere to be seen. You even took the time to go to his classroom! But his seat was empty. Confused, you asked one of his classmates.

“ Oh, Childe's sick. I heard he got a heavy fever. Probably because he fought with someone in the rain. I don't know. ”

Oh. No wonder he isn't here.

Tch, stupid ginger. Always going through stupid stuff. You've always prevented him doing his stupid ideas, solely because he always tells you before he does it.

Once school ends, you went to the Pharmacy to buy medicine. No, you aren't worried about him. You're just being a decent human being. No, you're not making him chicken soup because you're worried that he doesn't have the appetite to eat. You're just having normal human decency! There's a difference.

Finally knowing where Tartaglia's home is, thanks to his teacher, you immediately visited him.

Two taps were heard as you knocked at the front door. The door then flew open, revealing a ginger-haired woman who seemed to be in her middle ages. “ O-oh! Hello, I'm [Name]. Tartaglia's senpa- ” You were about to introduce yourself, but your sentence was cut off by the woman.

“ Ajax's lover!! ” She squealed. Giggling happily. Heat rose to your cheeks, shocked of her statement. “ W-What!! No, no!! I'm his senpai!! ” You profusely denied. “ Oh, don't worry dear!! You don't have to be shy!! ” “ I'm not- ” “ Come in, come in!! I'll lead you to his room!! ” Before you could even finish, Tartaglia's mother took your arm inside the house, leading you to his room.

Not even 2 minutes in, and you were already in ‘ Ajax ’s room. With his mother giggling at the other end of the door.

“ Oh? Senpai! What are you doing here? ” Tartaglia sat up from his bed, sweat dripping down from his forehead. Geez, what a terrible view. And even you wouldn't insult him.

Ok, maybe just one insult.

“ YOU IDIOT!! YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!! WHY DID YOU EVEN FIGHT SOMEONE, LET ALONE IN A HEAVY RAIN!! ” You hit the ginger at the arm, yet light enough not to actually injure him.

“ Ow, ow! Sorry, senpai! Ahaha! I just can't help it, you know? ” He laughed, before a series of coughs came out of his mouth. Causing you to face palm.

“ Geez, lie down you blockhead. Don't force yourself. Especially when your sick! ” You urged, pulling the taller male to the bed, forcing him to lie down.

“ Christ, you look terrible. ” You added, pressing your hand at his forehead to check his temperature. “ Geez, hot. ” “ Dang, not now, senpai! I know I'm hot but still- ” “ Shut up!! Not that, you fool!! ”

A moment of silence was shared, with Tartaglia's chest going up and down. “ So.. Ajax?.. ” You called, “ Hm? ” he responded. “ I didn't know your first name is that. How come you've never told me? ” “ You never asked. ” A slap made contact with Tartaglia's stomach.

“ Oh and, I didn't know you'd care for me enough to visit me when I'm sick. I always thought that you just view me as an annoying playboy, but I guess even you miss my presence, huh? ”

It was supposed to be a tease, and you know that.

So why the heck are you getting shy over it?!

“ I'm not!! I'm just being a-a decent human being! That's all!! There's a difference, you bonehead! ” Even though that was your usual remark, it wouldn't hide your obvious blush on your cheeks.

Obviously, Ajax noticed this. And he couldn't help but laugh over it.

“ .. And.. At first, I did view you as an annoying playboy. I've never received this kind of attention so I got suspicious of you. But.. I guess I did like your company. Not to mention that you seem really genuine around me. ” You muttered, yet loud enough for the ginger to hear you.

“ Oh.. That explains why you're always like that. Haha! ” “ Shut up, you idiot ginger. ”

“ Well, if you're still suspicious of me. We can spend time together. I mean, all the times we've interacted are always about me. Now, it's your turn. I've always wanted to know more about you, now's your chance! While I'm stuck on this bed though. ” Ajax stated, giving you his signature smile.

“ .. Alright, then. What do you wanna know, huh? But first, have you ate? ” “ .. Yes. ” “ Yeah, no, I'm not believing that. I made chicken soup. ” “ Wow, for me? ” “ No!! Don't get the wrong idea!! ”

Part 2?

[ro-written]

Don't Wanna Fall In Love pt. 1 - C.Y

Tags/Warnings: gn!reader, player!Yeonjun, college!AU, bestie!Wooyoung, cursing, mentions of sex (no smut though!), partying, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2.3k

Playlist:

“No Role Modelz” by J. Cole “Don’t Wanna Fall In Love” by Kyle

Part 2

Choi Yeonjun was known around campus for a variety of reasons. He was attractive, had decent grades, and was in a well-known friend group everyone wanted to join.

And he was a player.

Everyone knew this. And yet everyone seemed to think they could change him. Lock him down in a relationship and claim him as a trophy—an easy ride into popularity at school. 

Yeonjun knew this every time he brought someone new into his apartment. But the thing was, that’s what made it so fun to him. Seeing what new tricks they would try to get him to ask them out on a proper date. The best attempt so far was cooking him a full breakfast in the morning rather than leaving altogether. That morning he sat there, ate breakfast in silence, and then gave them his signature “sympathetic” smile, followed by his usual spiel:

“I’m not really the best boyfriend type. Honestly, I’m kind of shitty at relationships. We can be friends though! I do hope you understand.” 

It was well rehearsed after giving it to an assortment of people. Tweaked and polished to perfection. Started by giving a reason that explained his response, put the blame on him and his “shittiness” at relationships, gave them an alternative answer, and played at their sympathy. And they would eat it up every time. Admit their defeat as they walked out the door of his flat.

It was a cycle that repeated every time. And somehow, he never got tired of it.

—

You were never quite one for parties. At the risk of sounding like the “not like every other girl” trope, you just didn’t find too much enjoyment in them. Wasn’t your crowd, wasn’t your scene, but you never held it against others who did enjoy them. Your best friend, for example, was very into parties.

“Woo, I don’t know–”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” he pleaded as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

Yes, Wooyoung was very into parties, and tonight would be one of the bigger ones that Yeonjun and his crew were throwing at Choi Beomgyu’s house. A celebration for the end of the first semester and surviving through finals. And your best friend was dead set on getting you to go to one party before you both left out for winter break.

“You know how I feel about those things…why can’t we just stay in and drink! I’ll even make your favorite ramen.” You tacked the last part of the sentence as a way to sweeten the deal, knowing he had a hard time saying no to your ramen. His eyebrows went up as he thought deeply about it.

“That’s a very tempting offer, I must admit,” he scratched his jaw. “But I really, really, really wanna go to this party. It’s being hosted by the Fabulous Five."

“Very stupid name.”

“Shut it.”

“I mean who calls themselves ‘the Fabulous Fi’–”

“Okay, I don’t think they call themselves that, everyone else just does,” he rolled his eyes and put his hands in the air. You laughed at his exasperated state, knowing that you could give just as much attitude as he could throw your way. 

“But that’s not the point. The point is that this party means a lot to me,” he looked you in the eye, fully serious. “And I would really like it if my best friend was there beside me.” His words struck a deep cord in you. There was turmoil going on between your head and heart. Your heart was telling you to go with and be there for your best friend, just as he is there for you in everything. Your head told you to stay back, that you would absolutely hate it there. It would all be too much for you, and you knew that.

But goddammit, Wooyoung was looking at you like a hopeful little kid right now.

“You make it sound like you’re getting married, Jung.”

“If I find the right person tonight, maybe I will,” he laughed, grabbing your hand. “Pretty please? I will do the dishes all of next week.”

With a sigh, you looked down at your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You really did hate doing the dishes.

“Fine.”

—

It was all…quite loud.

As soon as you stepped into the house the heat from all the bodies hit you. Smoke made the air so thick you could almost chew it. The volume of the music really did a number on your ears.

You had found a stair step that wasn’t being used to sit and scroll on your phone. Wooyoung had gone off somewhere with some dark-haired boy - saying something about “I’ll be back in a bit” - and left you to your own device. 

For a while you people watched. There was a beer pong game going you found to be interesting, and afterward, a round of stack cup. You recognized a few of the players from your classes but weren’t super close to any of them. A few people went past you on the stairs up to god-knows-where, which you would shift out of the way a bit to avoid being stepped on. Some people you knew by name swung by to say hey, but that was the extent of your conversations in the midst of the chaos.

Eventually, nothing seemed all too interesting anymore, and you found yourself turning to your phone to do literally anything. You watched some videos, looked through the news a bit, texted back a friend or two, and before you knew, it only thirty minutes had gone by. You closed off your phone and hung your head, social battery depleting fast.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

A voice came from in front of you, and you looked up to find the source.

Choi Yeonjun stood right in front of you, holding out a cup of some transparent drink with an orange tint to it. Your eyes flickered from the drink up to his face, a gentle smile gracing it.

“No offense, but I don’t typically take drinks from strangers.” You gave him a light smile in order to politely decline him. He could have done anything to that drink, I don’t know him.

You knew of Yeonjun’s reputation around your school. You weren’t one to judge anyone for what they chose to do with their bodies. You’ve had a few one-night stands here and there but never made it a frequent thing. You did, however, try to go out of your way to steer clear of him and his friends out of not wanting to be caught up in any attention. Many of his escapades were pretty vocal about their time with him, and it brought them a bit of notice from your peers. You preferred to not be a similar case.

He smiled and nodded his head at your rejection, before putting the same cup to his mouth and downing the liquid. Your eyes widened a bit at how fast he took it down, before giving him another smile and looking awkwardly around at the other party-goers.

“Perhaps,” he started after a moment of silence. “I could accompany you to the kitchen. You could make your own drink, and I can properly introduce myself so we aren’t strangers anymore.” He offered a hand out to you, which you looked at for a second, wrestling your options. 

Either A: Stay here and wait till Wooyoung comes back after who knows how long…

Or B: Go grab a little drink to help make it through this night.

Grabbing his hand, you stood up from the stairs. You immediately dropped it, which caused Yeonjun to furrow his eyebrows a bit before collecting himself.

“Follow me.”

—

Your curtains brought direct sunlight into your eyes, causing you to stir a bit to shift away from the assault. You groaned as your arm came up to cover your face.

And suddenly, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close to a warm body next to you.

Now I’m awake.

Your head whipped to the side to see Yeonjun still asleep next to you, his pouty lips were slightly open, cheek smushed against your pillow. His black hair was splayed across the pillow, giving him a bit of bedhead. 

Eventually, your eyes trailed down his neck to his bare chest, and lower to where the blanket covered his waist down. You brought your eyes down and found you were wearing his shirt from last night, some band tee that had been oversized on him. 

Your heart was racing as you tried to place all the spotty memories in order.

Kitchen for drinks.

We were talking on a couch at some point.

More drinks, I think.

Wooyoung left out, said he wasn’t going back to the apartment tonight.

You told Yeonjun you were headed out, he wanted to walk back with you.

“Gotta make sure you’re safe.”

You invited him into your apartment to sober up a bit before he left.

So how did he get into your bed?

“Um,” his voice drew you out of the mental puzzle. You turned your head to find him looking directly at you, eyes still a bit groggy. “Hey.”

“...Hi.” You looked at him with wide eyes, certain you looked crazy. This was not how anything was supposed to go, and he needed to leave before Wooyoung got back to the apartment. If he hasn’t been back already…

“Uh, so I’m really–”

“I’m sorry Yeonjun, last night was a mistake.” You offered him a sympathetic smile, cutting him off. His mouth stayed open, lost for words, eyes widened in confusion. He was taken aback, not knowing quite how to respond. You lifted the covers, ignoring his lower half, and stood up quickly, trying to find a pair of shorts, pants, anything to cover your legs. 

“W-...It was?” He sat up and tilted his head to the side, looking vaguely like a lost puppy. You nodded your head with a tight-lipped smile.

“Yea, it’s just…I’m really not looking for anything right now. Mainly just focused on studies, you know?” You pulled out some sweatpants from a pile of clothes you had been meaning to fold. Gotta look for a shirt now.

“Right, right, me too.” His eyebrows creased as looked at you, shuffling around the room in search of something. You went to a drawer to pull out a plain black tee shirt and walked to your closet to change in.

“After I change I can go sit in the living room while you get dressed!” You said in a rushed manner from behind the door.

Yeonjun’s head was spinning. 

No one has ever kicked him out.

Mainly cause they were almost always at his place and he would gently push them out. But this time they were in your apartment, and you were pushing him out. It completely took him by surprise, especially calling last night a “mistake.”

You stepped out of the closet and walked over to the bed to hand him his shirt back. Nodding, you left the room and gently closed the door behind you, not bothering to look back for a second.

A bit down the hallway you could see Wooyoung’s door open, and you tip-toed over to it just in case he had come back and fallen asleep. Peeking your head through, your entire body felt a wave of relief from seeing his bed empty, his keys and wallet that he would usually have on his bedside table gone.

You padded your way to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water, letting your thoughts fly through your head while you sipped at it.

How could you have let that happen? Everyone is going to be talking about you now, and you’ll only be known as one of Yeonjun’s conquests. All eyes on you for the next week now, you’ll have to go to class, keep your head down, and immediately come back home. Maybe he won’t talk about it? He never usually talks about his rendezvous’...Unless he mentions it to his friends! Beomgyu and Kai talk quite a bit, what if–

The sound of your door opening lifted your head up to stare at the hallway that led into your kitchen and living room. You watched as Yeonjun trudged out in the clothes he had worn last night. His hair was a bit more tamed than the bedhead he had earlier. You set the glass down and took a few steps toward him, not completely knowing what to say.

“So…I have somewhere I have to be…in a few minutes…” You trailed off, hoping he’d pick up what you were implying. You still hadn’t quite figured out how to politely tell one-night stands to leave.

“Right yeah, I have to get going too, I was meeting Soobin for lunch.” He smiled, finally having somewhat composed himself while getting dressed. You nodded as your heart hammered in your chest, wanting to force him out the door before Woo did arrive and started telling everyone who was in his apartment last night. With your luck, he may be walking up to the door now.

You moved to unlock and open the door for him, peering your head outside to check for your roommate. Still gone. You didn’t bother to offer Yeonjun anything else, needing him to get out of the building. He stepped around you and out the door, and just before you closed it, he turned back around to you.

“I’ll see you later?” Something glimmered in his eyes as he said it. A warm, hopeful feeling in his chest emerged, something he hadn’t experienced in a while. Your eyes met him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, Yeonjun…I’ll definitely see you around.”

—

Do not repost or translate any of my work anywhere else.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

[crabonfire]

Mercs when your sick :(

warnings: none!!

characters: all mercenaries

note: sorry if these sicknesses r badly described,,usually whenever I get sick my Asian household gives me a cup of tea to drink and oil to rub on my stomach to feel better...and it works? so I'm not very into how Americans or other people do it 😭😭

♡Scout♡

• usually, you and him would have breakfast together so you'd have time with each other before matches start. So when he waits for you to wake up and notices your still in your room, he gets a bit worried.

• he'll knock on your door waiting for an answer. When he doesn't get one, he'll force himself in. did you die??? are u good

• then when he notices your stuffy nose and irritated expression, he goes full on panic mode.

• he's never had to care for sick people before...uhh...

• "Shit, you don't look too good Y/N...uhhh fuck-"

• asks you what's wrong, lists every little thing you say and runs off to medic.

• "Ah, a common fever, a cold, nausea...alright. Just make zhem drink zhis before zhey eat anything. If zhey start to experience headaches too, give zhem zhese."

"Thanks doc, I mean it."

• he runs back to you and starts explaining, "UH so uh...the doctor said-"

• insert really poorly explained explanation

• after he's done that, he will stay by your side all the damn time until you feel better.

• "You uh...ya feelin' any better toots? ya need anything? Water? No? Okay, just checkin'."

• after he realises your okay, just a bit under the weather, he pretends like he wasn't worried as hell. But it's pretty obvious, I mean the man is clinging on to you and cuddling you in bed. The way he's holding you feels like if he let's go his whole entire world will collapse, man is he clingy.

• after a few, if your still sick he'll beg you to get better. Why? he can't kiss you. if he kisses you, he'll get sick too. He said "What? I can't kiss you??? Why not...I don't mind being sick with you." But also "...wait but if I'm sick then who's gonna take care of you?? Goddammit!"

• he will pepper your face with kisses all over your body, just not receiving any back. Will try to make soup for you and does a surprisingly decent job. Will MURDER anybody who even thinks of bothering you.

• "Get well soon okay? I miss not being able to make out with you. Its weird...but also I just don't like seein' ya sick. so get well soon okay? and-ask me for anything. Let big strong scout take care of you, got it?"

scout make out with me challenge

♡Soldier♡

• he's the first to wake up at 5 in the freakin morning and wakes everybody else up by yelling into their doors. he always goes last with you though, letting you get that 5 minutes of extra sleep.

• when he does get to your door, he knocks slightly less aggressive than with the others. "WAKE UP CADET! WE HAVE A FULL DAY AHEAD OF US. ITS TIME TO WAKE UP!"

• you groan loudly and wake up, stepping to the door. He's quite confused to be greeted by you, yet you have a stuffy red nose and you look like you slept in a dump. Oh boy, what happened?

• "CADET, YOU LOOK DREADFUL! WHAT HAPPENED? DID YOU GET ATTACKED LAST NIGHT?! TELL ME WHICH PERPETRATOR DID THIS TO YOU. I WILL HUNT THEM DOWN AND MAKE SURE THEY GO THROUGH THE ROUGHEST AND RUTHLESS TORTURE ANY MAN HAS TO EVER ENDURE."

"Solly, I think I'm sick- sneeze oh there it is sniff."

"SICK?! NOOOOOOOOO-"

• he's super dramatic about it, even more than you thought.

• carries you bridal style and runs off to Medic's medbay before Medic is even in there. He places you onto the patient bed and runs off to get Medic.

• "Soldier, did jou really have to barge into my room? I was very busy in zhe bathroom!"

"YES! IT WAS MANDATORY. NOW CURE THEM!"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works, but I will do my best."

• will not let you leave your room, he stands guard infront of your door to make sure nobody even dares to step foot near it.

• he checks in on you a lot, asks Engineer to make you some soup.

• "ARE YOU ALRIGHT NOW CADET? DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE? NO? OKAY."

• once he's sure nobody is going to bother you, he's holding you tightly and making sure you feel comfortable. it's surprisingly quiet but he doesn't want to irritate your head, from time to time he will ask how your feeling and if he needs to get more soup or medication.

• he will be very wary of you now, after you get better he will inspect what you eat and how you feel so that you don't get sick anymore.

• "WE NEED TO CHECK FOR THE GERMS IN THAT. WHAT IF IT HAS RABIES!?!? NO, I WILL EAT THAT FIRST TO CHECK."

•assure him your okay please, he will not stop this for weeks.

solly?!?!??! faints

♡Pyro♡

• you and him cannot be separated. even in matches, so when you come back looking sick he's very very worried.

• "hhudda hhuuddhaa mmddhh??" (Are you okay??)

" sniff I'm feeling a bit sick, now that you mention it."

"HHUDYDA?!?!??!" (SICK?!?!?!!)

• doesn't know what to do but first thing he does is lock you in your room, then running off to engie for help.

• " SNIFHG HENGHEE!! HHUDA HHDYYDA HUHDA HHAHD MMFHA HUDDHA HHUDA HHFHUDA HHUDA HMMH :(" ( sniff ENGIE!! Y/N IS SICK AND I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO :( )

"Woah easy there buddy! Calm down-calm down. Hmm..oh! We could make some soup for them? Soup helps with sickness usually. Would you like if I made them some soup?"

" HHHUDA!! :D" (YEA!! :D)

"Great, I'll start workin' on it. You go ask Medic for some medicine."

• as soon as engie says that he will RUN GALLOP FUCKING FLY OVER TO THE MEDBAY.

"Ah, hello pyro-AH-"

Pyro has both his hands on medic's shoulders, shaking him aggressively.

"HUDDHA MMFHA HUDDAHHA MHHEHUDA HHUDA MHHEEDS HHHEM!" (GIVE ME SOME MEDICINE Y/N NEEDS THEM!)

"PYRO VHAT ZHE FUCK I CANT UNDERSTAND YOU-"

• Engie overhears this and stops his cooking to give Pyro a lecture on why you should not yell and grasp your hands while you shake them aggressively, begging them for medicine. He understands and apologises, as Medic huffs and gives him the medication you need.

• when he finally unlocks the room he has a bowl of nice warm cream soup for you. He sets it aside on the table by your bed as he runs back out to get your assorted medication.

• he will spend the entire day with you, drawing cute pictures of you together and writing get well soon notes non stop.

• if your not well by tomorrow or stay sick for longer, he will leave you sweet messages while he's out on the battle field.

"Get well soon sunshine :) -pyro"

"I miss you!!! -yours truly"

"I just set 3 people on fire and all I could think about was you, love you. -pyro"

also ppl infantilize him a lot when I think he'd be a very corny partner, pyro my beloved.

♡Demoman♡

• You usually come by to check up on him every night to see if he's drinking too much or getting into trouble. Sometimes he'd get super drunk on purpose just for you to take care of him.

• but your not there, in fact now that he thinks about it he hasn't seen you all day. hmm...u good?

• he goes over to your room, half sober and notices your slumped body on the table. Your asleep? But you seem annoyed. He notices how red your face is, and presses the back of his palm gently on your forehead. My god, your burning up!

• he's been taking care of his mother for a long time, so of course he knows how to take care of an ill person.

• he'll gently carry you and place you onto your bed, then get a cold wash cloth. if you wake up in the process, he will greet you softly. this man may be half drunk right now, but he knows when he needs to sober up!

"Hiya lassie, ye slept on the bloody desk and I can tell yer burnin up! Stay in bed for a bit for me, ok?"

• he will give you a kiss on your forehead, before heading off to your bathroom and preparing you a lukewarm bath. while you both wait for the water to fill the tub, he sits on the side of the bed, placing the cool wash cloth on your forehead.

• "Heh, how could ye get sick like this? Ye must've not been takin' care of yerself eh? No worries, I'm here."

• he makes sure your super comfortable, even refusing for you to walk as he carries you into the bath. letting you undress, he waits by the tub to make sure everything feels right.

the waters not too cold right? it shouldn't be, it should be lukewarm. do you want a sponge bath instead? No? okay. that's fine.

• once you get out of the bath, he gives you everything you need. Getting you light clothing, even making you a cool drink to rid of your fever. He won't stay in bed with you, because he doesn't want to crowd your sickness. But once he knows your asleep, he will smile and leave you alone.

• if your still sick by tomorrow? he will try extra hard to make sure your feeling better, anything you want he will get. After you do feel better, he will take you out to a fancy dinner. ( some ppl keep forgetting tav is rich and I find that so funny tbh) and treat you the entire day, giving you a free day as a treat for you.

man I love tav sm

♡Heavy♡

• you two were having lunch together after a long match, you were absolutely killing it on the battlefield! though you made the mistake of not showering right after the match, making your body become drenched in sweat.

• "Ah...ACHOO!"

"...Y/N...are you ill?"

"Nah...probably just got something caught in my -ACHOO!"

• oh no!! you got a cold :(

• he gets a bit worried, but he has taken care of his entire family once when they were sick, so this is no problem.

• does not let you out of your room.

• makes you tea with some honey, and prepares you some delicious chicken noodle soup!! the best soup for colds :)

• will stay in your room with you for the day, asking you every couple of minutes if your okay. though he knows rest is important when in a cold, so he usually just stays quiet reading in your desk while he makes sure you don't wake up in the middle of the night or anything similar to that.

• honestly like...like super duper strict yet he's so sweet. if cold gets worse, he will get some medicine from Medic. Some to soothe a sore throat, some to clear a stuffy nose, all that jazz.

• "lisichka, are you feeling better? if not, Heavy is always here to help. please do not be shy to ask."

• makes sure nobody bothers you, if anybody comes to knock on your door at night all he will do is glare at them and shush them. "No, They are sick. If you do not stop bothering them I will rip your tiny head from tiny body. understand?"

• not much to say other than the fact he's not leaving your side for the day. he makes sure your 100% back in tip top shape before he even THINKS of leaving you alone while your sick.

• if you don't get better for a while, he will be extra diligent...and worried. He knows he's overreacting, he's usually someone who never does that, but what if you get sicker? a rougher disease? he wouldn't know what to do.

• though when Medic assures him its just a cold that's lasting longer than usual, he's more content with himself and tries not to worry.

• before you sleep, he will always give you goodnight forehead kisses. I can see he isn't a very romantic type of person, so moments like these is when he feels truly vulnerable with you. He blushes every time, this adorable man.

• "goodnight moya lyubov, get well soon."

I'm gonna kiss heavy💯💯💯 REAL!!!

♡Engineer ♡

• you two were relaxing in your room, he was talking about his latest invention and you were happily listening.

• but then you felt a weird feeling in your stomach, like you wanted to throw up. And...you did. You gagged and ran straight for your bathroom, throwing up in the toilet seat.

• he was quite shocked, and came after you. As you threw up, he kneeled next to you and rubbed circles on your back. "Hey hey, that's it let it all out..."

• when you finish, he's super duper worried. "Sugar-cube...are you alright? You seem a bit sick...did you eat anythin' funny?"

"Now that you mention it...Scout did give me a weird tasting can of bonk earlier."

"That scout...tell me, what do you feel?"

• he will write in his head about the things your feeling, and go straight to the doctor.

so a cold, sore throat, and slight nausea? cool cool, he's got it covered.

• "Sit tight honey, I'm gonna get some medicine for ya."

• is pretty calm honestly. he doesn't get sick a lot but when he does, he usually takes care of it so he can go straight back to work. So he's not worried or anything. he's a smart guy, of course he'd know it's best to take care of yourself.

• rest is crucial to cure a cold, so he will insist on leaving you to your room. he will check up on you every couple of hours, if your awake he'll ask if you need anything and if your feeling better.

• if you get worse, he will stay with you the entire time. leaving his work unattended just for a bit.

• very caring. each sneeze you let out or the way your tired eyes struggle to stay open makes his eart ache just a little.

"You don't need to force yourself to be awake, darlin'. I don't mind watchin' over you."

or something corny as fuck like "Even when you got that puffy red nose and those weary eyes, ya still look adorable."

• not much to say other than that honestly, just a sweet, caring and calm lover when your sick.

engie my beloved

♡Medic♡

• he knows your sick without you even telling him

• will randomly tell you to get onto the patient bed.

"Medic...what are you doing?"

"Checkup! Jou are sick mein schatz, I just need to know exactly vhat sickness it is. places gloves on now, relax. "

• checks on your eyes, mouth, all thay jazz. Once he does he asks you some normal questions.

like "How have jou been feeling lately? Any dizzyness while working?"

• after a small checkup, he writes it all on his board and gets some medication from his drawer.

"Alright, jour body temperature is unusual and from jour sore throat and lack of sleep jou may be getting a fever tomorrow or tonight. Once jou do, I want jou to take zhese. Take zhem after jou eat, three times a day, and zhis before you sleep tonight. If it does not cure by the next two days, I will give jou more to help with it. Understand?"

"Yea..thank you medic."

"Of course, take care of jourself more...and get more sleep for God's sake mein liebe."

• are you surprised he guessed your fever before it even occurs? Yeah. are you complaining? oh fuck no.

• it's amazing how he could guess, because as he said, by tomorrow morning you had been feeling terrible. As you placed your hand on your forehead, the heat it radiated was absolutely irritating.

• when you got out of the room to get yourself some food, to your surprise medic was in the kitchen...making food?

• "Ah mein schatz jour awake, guten morgen!"

"Morning medic, what'cha makin'?"

"Breakfast of course! I am making chicken noodle soup! With the help of heavy, I cannot cook haha."

outta nowhere, Heavy just appears 😭😭

"Hello."

"holyshit-hi heavy!"

Medic begins to explain your diet for the day, what to eat what to avoid, what to do and what to not do, etc.

As he does, Heavy is cutting up fruits for you. Medic says fruit is good for fevers.

Once the soup is done, Medic sits you down and let's you eat. "How is it?"

"Mmm...this is soooo good babe. You and heavy did a great job, thank you!"

"Thank you Y/N. "

"I'm glad jou like it, remember your diet, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, just leave me to eat this soup already."

With a hearty laugh, he gives you a kiss on your temple as him and heavy both go their separate ways.

• he won't really spend a lot of time with you, he doesn't want to distract you so for the entire day he let's you rest up in your room as he continues his work.

• not a very passionate man when your sick, but he really just wants you to get better, don't take it to heart.

medic cannot cook LMFAOOOOO

♡Sniper♡

• you went into his camper van already feeling a bit nauseous, but you decided to ignore it because you wanted to spend time with him.

• as he was ranting about how scout stole his kill, you very quickly felt the pressure build up and ran to the door, throwing up on the ground.

• he was very much surprised, it took him a second but he got up to check what happened.

• "Oh...uh...are you okay?"

"...mundy I just threw up-no, no I'm not."

"Sorry... uh...."

• HE DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF A SICK PERSON. IS PANICKING. AS YOU CONTINUE TO FUCKING AGGRESJVELY THROW UP HE IS SHAKING SHIVERING HIS TIMBERS HES SO CONFUSED.

He's gotten sick but his parents are the ones who take care of him...HE DOESNT MMOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF OTHER PEOPLE!!! HES A SNIPER HE TAKES CARE OF PEOPLE BY SHOOTING THEM.

•"UH...WAIT HERE."

• runs off to medic, who is very concerned to find a distressed sniper.

"Doc...uh...Y/N...is uh...throwing up a lot. uh..."

insert awkward pause

"...JUST FOLLOW ME."

• takes him to you as you sit by the camper with the most sad face anybody has ever seen.

• "Are jou alright? What are jou feeling?"

You tell him what you feel, bla bla all that jazz. Medic nods as you do and prescribes you with nausea, and a cough. pretty basic stuff.

yet...sniper is so worried. again, it's common illness! But...he's never taken care of anybody. Even as an adult without his parents usually he'll just let the sickness pass without a thought in his head.

He's a bit ashamed to say the least. Ashamed he can't take care of a common illness his lover is going through.

• will stay with you all day and make sure you have everything you need. if you feel like throwing up again he'll get you some ginger tea to help soothe it.

• will go to medic personally while your chilling and ask for tips, and medic ends up rambling about illnesses to sniper. sniper is intrigued but weirdly interested??

"And for colds, jou want to make sure zhey are warm. BUT NOT TOO WARM! rambles on"

"Ah..." He says as he nods along.

• sniper tells medic he feels a bit ashamed not being able to take care of a simple illness, Medic comforts him and tells him it's fine and reassures him that it's nothing to be ashamed of. (this is a weird friendship ik but it's cute hehe)

• he does everything medic tells him, and does a really good job! Thanks to them, your all well now.

• mundy doesn't need to be worried because now he knows how to cure the ill!! Yayyyyy

he doesn't know how to take care of a sick person LMFAOOO LOSER (make out with me mundy)

♡Spy♡

• you hadn't left your room all day, heck he didn't even know if you were awake or not.

• feeling a bit worried, he knocked on your door.

knock knock

he waits for a bit, then the door shuffles to open revealing you. but, you look different.

the red puffy nose? those tired eyes? and the way you so loosely stood? oh your sick, doesn't take an idiot to figure that out.

"Y/N, are you sick?"

"...yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's a small flu, it'll pass Spy."

"Hm, no."

"..huh?"

• will ask if he can come in and as he does, you both sit down on the edge of your bed as he asks you tons of questions.

"Have you drunk any medication?"

"Yeah, once I woke up I felt pretty sick so I went to medics and he said it was best for me to rest."

"Good, have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet."

"..I see."

silence falls between you two until he stands up and walks out of the room without a word.

"Spy? Uh...Spy where are you going?"

"Save your voice cherie, I'm going to make you a meal. Do not leave the room."

"Oh! Uh...okay."

• then he goes, leaving you in the room. it's a bit endearing how quickly he is to make you some food just by hearing the fact you need to eat.

• meanwhile, spy is in the kitchen making the most tasty chicken soup any man has ever laid their eyes on. oh my god just describing it is making my mouf water rn...yum

• scout and demoman walk into the kitchen, scout starts to bother him and demoman is trying to get a taste of the soup.

"Didn't know you could cook, Spy. You could've been making us food all this time but you really put Engie ta do all da work? wowwww, what a friend you are." rambles on

spy is too focused on his soup to care at the moment, chopping up vegetables to put in it

demo is drooling rn trying his best not to just take a big spoonful sip of it

In the end, spy just goes off with the soup and whatever is left he stores safely and threatens anyone that eats it a butterfly knife to the back of their heads. (He's saving it for you incase you want seconds.)

Now he's back in your room, a tray in his hands with soup and a fucking tea kettle with a cup.

He places it on your bedside table, as he hands you the soup. When you take it, he starts to gently pour some herbal tea into the cup for you.

When you take a sip of this soup, all your five senses activate and its like going through a delicious savory heaven of flavor. He's such a good cook, whyd he hide that talent?

The tea stays on the tray, as he leans by the door to watch you eat, smirking as your expression turns from tired into a happy one. He's quite proud of himself.

"Spy...this is so fucking good. What the hell...cook for me more? Oh my god...im drooling."

He chuckles, his voice low. "If you ask nicely then maybe I'll oblige, mon couer."

You almost splurt out your soup, he manages to make your cheeks heat up even when your sick. What kind of man says that sort of thing? Spy, spy is.

• will listen to you blabber and compliment his soup expertise, when you ask for seconds, he gets very giddy on the inside.

• for the entire time you get sick, he comes to you when you need a meal or when you need anything. You need tons of rest when you have a flu, he knows that. So, as much as he wants to hold you and cradle you in his arms, he has to leave you be.

• He doesn't want to get infected, if so, who will take care of you?

• though after, he will envelop you in kisses. Saying how much he missed your lips on his. Buys you a gift for being so well when your sick. Honestly, this guy is crazy with gifts.

spy 💘

THE END LMFAOO

sorry if some were longer than others!! I probably just didn't know what to add. Anyways, SORRY AGAIN for not posting much. Shit has been TOUGH man. But, I'm gonna write a ton for the next couple of weeks so leave your TF2 requests in my inbox!! I'm always up for ideas :)