#goddamnit this is gonna keep me awake at night

[starry-eyes-love]

Chapter 4: Please, I need you

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (18+, Minors DNI), Post-outbreak

Summary | The night after Joel has his panic attack he tries to fall asleep across the hall from where you two had been staying together. After tossing and turning he eventually slips into a deep dream where he finally gets what he wants, you, but he finds himself being woke up by your when it gets to the good part. With his mind racing and his body throbbing, he does the one thing that he knows he shouldn’t, promises to be in a relationship with you.

Warnings | 18+, minors DNI. Smut (from a dream, p in v sex), language, sexual references and tension, tender Joel, possessive Joel, sweet name calling (honey, baby, sugar, Angel, etc.), age gap, no use of y/n, slight descriptions of body type (dream like state), pining, slight pressure of sex (respect people’s boundaries), tad bit of fluff and angst.

Word Count: 6.8

“Come on baby, I know you're still mad at me, but let me make it up to ya, m’kay?" he said pleading with you. "Come on sugar, just a little bit more” Joel begged as he kept trying to undo your pants while expertly rubbing in-between your legs with his clothed thigh.

Joel's POV

Joel tosses and turns, he can't get comfortable on the mattress. He tries sleeping on the floor, tries sleeping on the bed, tries sleeping with his back against the wall, but nothing works. The problem is, he's not next to you. He doesn't feel your back tight against him or your arms draped around him. He's too warm, then he’s too cold. The surface is either too soft or too hard. God, he needs to get some sleep, or he ain't gonna be shit tomorrow for helping you learn how to shoot a bow.

As he lays there awake he keeps thinking and wondering if you’re doing ok. If you're warm enough, if you can't sleep without him either. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, I can just go in there to see if she's asleep, and if she's not then I'll sit down and help calm her down to get her to sleep, Joel thinks to myself. Before he can talk himself out of it he's up and moving quietly across the hall to check on you. Standing next to the bed he sees that you're fast asleep in a deep slumber. He stands there in awe looking at you. He doesn't think he's ever seen you this relaxed or deep in sleep, usually you're sleeping with one eye open like he does. I can't wake her, he thinks, she looks too damn peaceful. So he grabs the blanket that is tucked next to you and drapes it over your body. He then leans down and gently kisses your cheek while saying quietly "sleep soundly, my Angel." When he’s done, he walks down the hall to check on Ellie and finds her in the same position, sleeping soundly.  He stands there for a moment admiring her soft features and once again he tucks her in and whispers as he kisses her cheek “sleep soundly kiddo.”  Joel then returns to his bedroom, but leaves the door open in case one of his girls need him, in case you need him.

Joel tries to go back to sleep, but he keeps tossing and turning in bed.  When he falls asleep he only falls asleep for a few moments before jerking awake again. Get it together man he thinks to himself rubbing a hand down his face. He’s tired and exhausted, worried about the safety of everyone, especially about you.  He doesn’t like the distance you have put between the two of you.  He hates to see how withdrawn you have been with him, almost afraid of getting close to him, as if he’s going to hurt you.  And he has, he has hurt you emotionally considerably and he hates himself for it.  He has never wanted to hurt you, make you doubt his heart or caring attitude for you.  But living in survival does something to a man, it makes him rough and hard on the outside.  Makes him have to be strong and determined to protect what belongs to him.  No, you don’t technically belong to him but goddamnit, he’s going to make sure you are taken care of in life and not going without if he can help it.  

The longer he lays there the more he thinks about you and the life you two have had together.  He thinks back to the QZ and him helping you get enough money to get out of the situation with David.  That fucking asshole he thinks to himself.  The way David hurt you, the way he harmed you boils fire in his veins and makes him feel protective over you in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.  Get it together man he whispers to himself, ain’t no use thinking about that shit, it’s in the past and it ain’t gonna fix things now.  He knows he needs to fix things with you, to get you to trust him once again and be his in every possible way.  

He gently turns onto one side and stares out of his room in the dark to watch you sleep. He focuses on the gentle rise and fall of your breaths to help ease the tension in his muscles and in his back.  You are safe and sound he tells himself.  As Joel lays there he keeps watching you breathe, and it slowly lulls him into being relaxed and Joel quickly finds himself drifting off into a deep dream…

Joel's Dream State

Joel had pulled up in his pickup truck outside of your house in Austin to pick you up for a date.  There was no end of the world, no outbreak, and his baby girl (Sarah) was still alive and healthy at 12 years old. This summer was an incredibly warm and busy summer for him. He was working all the time, trying to expand his business, Miller Contracting. You two had been dating for a while and recently you had gotten into a horrible argument because he wasn’t able to spend time with you. 

Summer free time was something that he rarely had this year and any free-time he did happen to have was either spent with his daughter, or was spent working on expanding his business.  Joel was a single father, his ex-wife Teesh (short for Theresa) was in the picture with having partial custody of Sarah every other weekend. On the weekends Sarah was with Teesh he tried to spend with you, but lately he wasn’t able to because of an extra contract he took for building a garage for some guy across town. Dating wasn’t something Joel was very used to doing, as he hadn’t done it in over 5 years, but he was trying to do it with you. 

The one time this summer that he did plan on spending with you he accidentally fell asleep and forgot to show up for your date to which you got upset and slammed the door in his face the next morning when he showed up to apologize. He tried calling, tried stopping by your work, tried sending you flowers, but you were hurt and upset and he understood why.  Finally after a few weeks of trying to get you to talk to him you had agreed on another date with him, and this time he didn’t want to mess it up.

“Wow darlin’ you look beautiful” Joel said as he watched you walk down the stone path from your house to his truck.  You were wearing his favorite yellow floral summer dress that landed just above your knees.  Your hair was long and set into loose waves that cascaded gently down your back, several inches below your shoulders.  The dress you wore fit you nicely, showing and accentuating every curve that you had.  Seeing you come down the stone path gave a shock of adrenaline into his already aching cock.  With being busy, he hadn’t had the time to properly take care of himself, let alone take care of you and he hated himself for it.  You were gorgeous at 25 and he was a 37 year old man, though some days he felt like he was 53 with how his body responded.

“Thanks, Cowboy” was all you said as you climbed into his pickup truck, a nickname that you had given him several months ago when he wore cowboy boots out on a date with you.

As Joel continued to dream he found himself laughing and smiling in the date with you. He took you to all of your favorite places in Austin, but he really didn’t remember what they were called or everything that you talked about in his dream-like state.  Joel’s mind only focused on your body and your smile, feeling carefree with him and laughing with him.  Suddenly Joel’s mind fast forwarded to his bedroom.  You were lying on your back in his bed where Joel made out with you like you both were a bunch of teenagers.  He was also rubbing one of his legs in-between your thighs, rubbing it up and down into your aching heat, hearing you give off little whimpers at the sensation. When Joel reached for the button of your jeans to unbutton them you had slapped his hand away saying “‘M-still mad at you,” but you continued to kiss his neck and lips.

“Come on baby, I know you're still mad at me, but let me make it up to ya, m’kay?" he said pleading with you. "Come on sugar, just a little bit more” Joel begged as he kept trying to undo your pants while expertly rubbing in-between your legs with his clothed thigh.

“Joel, quit it, I said I didn’t want to do that” you said trying to hold onto the last bit of dignity you had with being mad at him.  But when Joel started to nip your neck you heard yourself say outloud “Joel, oh-fuck- that- that feels good. Fuck- please.” As soon as you let out a low moan Joel switched and put you fully on your back where he laid in-between your legs. He continued to nip and suck on your neck while he expertly ground his rock hard bulge into your clothed and soaking wet heat until you were begging him to not stop. 

You were so desperate for him to touch you, but you were trying to prove a point to him that he couldn’t just use sex as a way for you to forgive him. But goddamn it, you were so horny and wanting your boyfriend bad again. “Please Joel- baby please” you said in-between whimpers.

“Please, what darlin’? What do ya need, honey?" Joel quietly whispered in your ear as he continued to nip your neck.  The next thing you knew both of you had ripped off your clothes and Joel was fully sheathed into you and was fucking you hard while whispering, “Goddamn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight for me. Yeah, does my baby like it, like taking my cock like this. God woman, this pussy was made for me.”

Joel continued to whisper filthy words into your ear, telling you how good you felt, how much you were made to take him, and how much he loved being inside of you and being with you.  He was pounding into you so hard that his headboard kept hitting the wall with each hard thrust he was doing. He was so deep inside of you, hitting your cervix with each hard snap of his hips, filling you in every way possible that no one else could ever do with you. “God baby, I can’t get enough of this pussy. You’re so perfect for me Angel, so fucking perfect” he said as he picked up the pace while chasing his high, moaning loud as his eyes rolled back into his head.  He felt the heat travel up his spine, the knot form so hard in his stomach, moaning loud with each brutal thrust he was doing, he was two seconds from blowing his load deep within your walls when he felt it…

“Joel. Joel, wake up. Come on, wake up” you said sternly to him as you shook him violently awake.  His eyes snapped open and he whispered your name. As he slowly came down from that high he was chasing in his dream and back down to reality, back to the cabin in the middle of the woods after the outbreak. It was then that he realized that everything that was happening with you begging for him was all just a dream.  He was having just a dream, and God he wanted it to be true. He wanted to be your boyfriend fucking you the way he was in that dream so damn much.

As realization hit him that he was just dreaming he slowly closed his eyes and let out a long exhale along with saying in a low and raspy voice “what do ya want?” As he waited for your response he slowly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and allowed his senses to fully take over again back to reality and the life you two were living now.  When you didn’t answer him right away, he looked around and then sighed as he sat up in bed saying “what’s up darlin’, why did ya shake me awake?”

When you saw that Joel was relaxed and asking you why you had woken him up, you felt really stupid.  You had been laying there in your bed across the hallway for some time, tossing and turning in bed. You had dozed off for a bit, but then had a horrible nightmare where you felt like you were left alone in this world, and no one was there for you anymore. It was the same nightmare that came with the one with Dave, an old boyfriend of yours, and the night that Joel saved you. You had heard Joel moaning in his sleep and figured he was having the same nightmare of the night Sarah died, but at seeing him so relaxed now you figured he was having a different sort of dream, one that you could no longer have.

When Joel didn’t hear you answer him, he reached down and lifted your chin gently upwards while saying “you had a nightmare again didn’t ya?” You quietly and slowly shook your head yes.  “Same one or different one sweetheart?” he asked. 

“Uh- the sa-same one” you sniffled as the images of what happened came flooding back into your head.  “I um- I heard you moaning and thought you were having one too and I- I- I couldn’t sleep and was-” you struggled to get out your sentence as your voice shook and started to crack with pain at the memory you were recalling with Dave.

“Come here darlin” Joel said pulling you onto the bed and tucking you on your side close to him. He slowly wrapped his hands around you, tucked you tight against his chest, with one leg in-between yours while resting his head on top of your head.  This was the same position the two of you had been in countless times while sharing a sleeping bag together. You two were practically physically attached to each other but he knew this was the only way to quiet those nightmares, something he learned back at the QZ when you stayed with him that first night, the night the nightmares showed up.

“Darlin’ ya need to relax, ok. Baby, he ain’t ever gonna hurt ya again, you hear me? I made sure of it, didn’t I? He’s gone and not coming back” Joel said while slowly rubbing soothing strokes up and down your back with his hand as your body kept giving aftershocks of tremors due to your nightmare.

“I know Joel. It’s just that I was scared and couldn’t sleep. Then I heard you moaning and I thought you were having a nightmare too” you said slowly into his chest. 

Joel froze at the mention of you hearing him moan. When he felt you stiffen against him, he took a steadying breath and said “that moanin’ wasn’t from a nightmare darlin'.”

“Uh- Joel, what was-” you stuttered trying to find a way to ask what his dream was about.

“Doesn’t matter baby, it just wasn’t from a nightmare, okay. I’m fine and you're fine too” he said tenderly.

After you didn’t respond verbally to him, he eventually felt you curl inward more within his arms, making yourself feel small. He knew you only did this when you were upset about something, or stressing about something. So with a long exhaled sigh he asked you “darlin’, what’s the matter?”

When you didn’t respond right away to him, he nudged you slightly as a way of encouraging you to open up and speak your mind of what was bothering you. When you didn’t respond again he gave you a slight warning stating “I asked ya a question didn’t I? Now don’t make me repeat myself again sweetheart.”

You quickly replied “oh, I can’t ya know. Do those types of dreams anymore. I’m- I’m sorry for waking you and interrupting you with-”

“It’s okay sweetheart, I don’t mind,” he said softly.

“Was it about Tess or about your ex, or maybe a girlfriend before outbreak day. I uh-could let you get back to sleep to see if”

Joel interrupted you and said “ain’t none of those people honey.”

“Oh” you said in a meek voice. “Um- oh. Ok. Yeah, I mean if it’s someone new or-” you glanced up at Joel and saw that he was looking down at you with his eyebrow raised. When you looked into his eyes pleading with him to tell you, wanting him to say it was you in that dream more than anything as you couldn’t muster up the courage to open your mouth and officially ask him who it was.

After Joel watched a multitude of emotions run across your face, he finally exhaled and said “baby, I”

“Joel, it’s okay” you said while interrupting him, trying to keep it together while talking to him about this. “You don’t have to, ya know, if ya don’t- what I mean is. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’ll just leave you alone and you can go back to-”

“Not happenin’ darlin’. You ain’t going nowhere, ya hear me.” he snapped at you as you tried to get up and leave while pulling up those hardened masks the world has forced you to create as a way of coping with life.  As you started to get up Joel grabbed your hip harder and squeezed while saying with a low warning of a growl “don’t you dare fucking move little girl. I said you are staying right here” and he slowly pushed his hand into your lower back to slightly rub you up against his bulge in his pants. As you looked at him you saw his eyes go dark, like a predator who had just spotted his prey. This look used to make you freeze and be scared, but now it has the opposite effect on you. Now you get incredibly turned on by his possessiveness. And as soon as you felt him and how hard he was your breath hitched in your throat in response as you said “Joel, you’re ah-”

“Hard? Yes darlin’ I am” he said while staring at you and pushing you a little closer into him.

You didn’t know what was up with Joel tonight, of why he was so forward with you right now. Sex dreams did happen occasionally, and you usually knew when he’d get them when you two shared a sleeping bag as you’d wake up to him mumbling in his sleep and slowly thrusting into you still asleep. But usually once he awoke where all of his senses could take hold of him, he’d go back to being stern, closed off Joel.  But not tonight. Tonight you had no idea what was with him as this was something he never did, flirted and was being honest with you. You didn’t know why, but honestly you didn’t care. You were so turned on by him right now that you were practically soaked through your panties and you wondered what he’d say to you if you were just as honest and straightforward as he was. To hell with it, you thought, let’s see if he likes it a little rough verbally back.

“Oh good” you said to Joel. “I’m glad you’re not the only one turned on, makes me feel better knowing you-”

“You turned on too sweetheart?” he said with a slight smirk to his lips. “I thought ya said ya had a bad nightmare?” Joel knew he was playing with fire and that he shouldn’t indulge you and your little game right now, but damn it he was frustrated.  He hadn't relieved himself in ages again, not able to get alone enough to release that tension properly. And in his dream he was about two seconds from blowing his load deep inside of you and because you woke him up, he was horny and kinda pissed off at you for not letting him finish in his mind.  But right now he was aching so damn bad at the thought of you being wet and needy for him. He was so turned on that each time you moved or talked he felt his dick twitch hard within his pants and he was slowly losing all of his self control with you yet again.

You contemplated your options while looking at Joel’s smug smirk on his face, deciding that you’d play along just to see how far he’d go, because the truth was you were aching for him to be inside you once again.  With a smirk on your face you leaned in and whispered in his ear “yes Joel, I’m turned on right now. I’m practically drenched through my pants and I want to touch myself so fucking bad right now that it hurts.”

When you pulled back to look at Joel you noticed his eyes were completely black, and then you saw a devilish smirk filter across his face as he said “How ‘bout that. Ya soakin’ right through those panties, huh?" Then he leaned closer and whispered in your ear "Honey, I don’t believe you.”

You were a tad pissed that Joel didn't believe you, or that he was challenging you so you quipped “What, are you-” 

“Show me darlin," he quickly said. "Show me how soaked you are."

You cocky bastard you thought to yourself. So with as much courage as you could muster you took his hand and put it to the outside of your pajamas for a moment and then slowly dragged your hand up your clothed heat, where he could feel the wetness on the outside of your pants.  You shook slightly when you got up to your clit, circled his hand a moment and then dragged it back down to where you were drenching your pajama pants. This wetness all came from imaging Joel having a dream where he was fucking someone. When Joel felt how wet you were his eyes rolled back in his head and he said “fuck” in a low growl. 

“Who were you dreaming of Joel” you say with more confidence behind your words, even though you truly didn’t feel it. You slowly kept dragging Joel’s hand up your slit, lightly circling your clit and then back down your slit to feel the wetness continuing to pool there on the outside of your pants.  Joel, with his eyes still closed said in a clipped tone “you know the fuck who I was dreamin’ about.”

“Say it Miller, or I don’t believe you” you quip back at him, giving him the same challenge that he just gave you moments ago while pulling his hand away from you. As soon as you pulled your hand away he snapped open his eyes and starred at you. While looking into his stone cold eyes you felt a switch flip in your head, something that caused your sex drive to go through the roof. What you didn't know was the same switch flipped in Joel's head. He has always thought you were sexy as hell. But turning the tables so quickly on him and challenging him like you just did, it did something to him.  It made him think that maybe you could survive in this world much better than he anticipated. That you could truly be his equal in survival in every way, that you weren’t weak, and that you could handle yourself. And truthfully, that was the biggest turn on for him as he’s never seen anyone challenge him with that much confidence in their voice.

Looking straight in your eyes he said one word sternly and that word was “You.”  He watched your breath hitch in your throat and felt you shift your weight to squeeze together your thighs to relieve a bit of tension there.  With a smirk, he added “I was about 2 seconds away from having the best fucking orgasm of my goddamn life when you shook me awake.”

“What were we, uh- what were we-”

“Doing?” he said as he finished your sentence for you.  You nodded slowly in confirmation at him, wanting him to say it outloud. 

“Well darlin’” he said while moving you onto your back and hooking your legs around his waist, “we were laying on the bed like this and I was fucking you deep and hard like this.”  As soon as he said the word ‘this’ you felt him snap his hips into you hard and grind into your clothed heat.  

“You were in my bedroom back in Austin and I was fuckin’ you so hard my headboard was slamming against the wall” he said while he kept snapping his hips into you and grinding hard into you that you were starting to moan his name slightly as you felt that familiar tension build into your belly once again. 

“You were moaning out my name darlin’, begging me to not stop, to come inside that perfect little pussy of yours” he said while holding your wrists above your head as leverage as he rutted hard against you again like an animal in heat. He felt your legs quiver and knew you were a few thrusts from tipping over the edge yourself.

“And right before we tipped over the edge, you fucking woke me up” he said as he stopped and pulled away from you.  Your eyes snapped open and you watched him devilishly smirk at you. Out of frustration you went to smack him hard across the face again, but this time he caught your hand mid air and slammed it hard on the bed saying “na ah, not this time darlin’. You ain’t slapping me again sweetheart.”  You looked at him seething, hating him and the smirk he had on his face as he said “what’s the matter honey, frustrated that you didn’t get to come?” he says with a laugh.

“Fuck you Joel” you snap at him “don’t be fucking cruel.”

“Don’t be cruel? Don’t be cruel? What the fuck do you call this huh?” he says while rocking into you so you feel his rock hard bulge throbbing against you. “You wake me up while I’m sleeping, you know I haven’t slept in days darlin’ and you just go and wake me outta one of the sexiest and best fucking dreams of my life just to do what?” 

“I thought you were having a nightmare” you bite back at him.

“A nightmare. Why the fuck did you think I was having a nightmare?” Joel snaps at you while he feels his dick twitch against his pants.

“Cause you were moaning in your sleep Joel, and you mumbled ‘please baby don’t, don’t do this to me.’ And I thought-”

It was then that Joel’s mind raced to one thought, the thought of Sarah, of his baby girl dying.  You thought he was having his usual nightmare about Sarah, about the day he lost her.  Joel immediately let go of your hands and sat up in a seated position a few feet back from you while running a hand through his hair and said “no baby, I wasn’t having a nightmare about Sarah. It was you” he said, looking over at you.

“Me?” you question him now sitting up in a seated position yourself. “You were having a nightmare about me, how? Why? What?-”

“No, not a nightmare honey,” he said. “It was just a dream. It was just a really good fucking dream, a dream about you.”

When you continued to look at him puzzled he added “You, ah. You wouldn’t kiss me, or let me touch you and I-”   

“Why wouldn’t I let you touch me?” you say with concern. You weren’t understanding how this could be a dream, a good dream when it sounded like a nightmare to you, because you wanted nothing more than to touch Joel badly in real life, if he’d let you.

“Doesn’t matter darlin’, it was just a dream” Joel says shaking his head at you.

“No Joel, I wanna know why. Why do you think I wouldn’t want you to touch me?”

“Cause you were mad at me for what I did” he says. “I was workin’ all the time and raising Sarah and fell asleep instead of showing up on a date, and-” his voice cracks at the memory of the dream, of trying to get you to take him back. He takes a minute in real life to remind himself that it was just a dream and gives himself a second to pull back the tears that he felt were stinging behind his eyes at the thought of you not wanting to be with him because he hurt you.  That he wasn’t good enough. 

As if you could sense his turmoil in his head you said “Joel, honey, look at me. I would never get mad at you like that, especially for spending time with your baby girl. Sure I would miss you but baby, you gotta believe me I would never in a million years be mad at you for being a single father to your-”

“Doesn’t matter cuz it was just a dream and it ain’t nothin’ that is ever gonna happen cause we, she’s-” Joel says with venom laced in his voice at the painful reminder that Sarah is no longer with him.

“Don’t” you say sternly at him as he turns away from you as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes at the painful reminder that his little girl is gone and that the world is different.

When Joel refuses to listen and pulls away from you, starting to shut you out again with his cold exterior coming back into place you reach out to him trying to center him but he won’t have it. He stands up to leave again, to walk away and close himself off from the world and you are sick of it so you snap back at him saying “Joel, dammit, I said look at me." 

When he finally stops and looks back at you you say with a stern voice "don’t you dare tell me that I would never fall in love with you now, or not find you attractive now. Jesus Joel, what do I have to do to show you that I fucking care about you and want you, huh? Stand on my goddamn head?"

With a sigh he says “darlin’ you just saying that cause I’m the only one you got. Look I’m-”

“You’re 53, yeah I get that” you say with sarcasm. “You have salt and pepper hair, you have bad knees, a bad back, scars on your body and you haven’t been in a long term relationship for a very long time. Yeah I get it old man. But when are you gonna get it that I don’t care about any of that shit. I don’t care if you're older. In fact, Joel. I’ve always liked older men, much older men than me. So get over yourself with your age bit, ya hear me? The only problem I see that you have is your damn hearing cause you don’t ever listen to me on this” you say while walking up to him and starring him straight into the eyes.

Joel just stands there for a moment amazed at your ability to stand up to him and run your mouth off at him.  With a small chuckle he shakes his head gently and says “yeah darlin’ ya probably right on the hearing bit.”

“No Joel, I know I am right, cause you never listen” you say with a shake to your head. Softly you then say “look, I like you, a lot. And I want you, a lot. Not because you are the only person here, but because you are someone I find attractive. I get it if you’re not interested in me and-”

“Don’t” he says sternly while looking at you. “Don’t you even fucking think for a goddamn moment that I don’t find you sexy as hell darlin’. That’s my problem, I want you so goddamn bad that I can’t think straight half of the time and I just" he pauses, trying to find the words to convey how he feels. After a moment he says "I just don’t want ya to be uncomfortable, ya know. I don’t know how to love half assed” and with that admittance he huffs and looks up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, well neither do I Joel" you say while shaking your head. "You were the first guy that saw me and treated me with respect. Hell you saved me from Dave when he- when I almost-” you hear your voice break for a second at the memory of what Dave did to you.

“Come here” Joel says tenderly as he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you holding you close. “Shh darlin’, ya don’t gotta worry about him anymore. I took care of it, remember?” he says while rubbing soothing circles on the skin of your back.  When you finally slow and quiet your breathing, you look back up to Joel’s eyes and notice that he is looking down at you with affection as a small smile lifts up at the corners of his mouth.

“There’s my pretty girl, so beautiful” he says as he brushes your hair from your face. He slowly leans in, caressing your cheek with his thumb while saying “not ever gonna let anything bad happen to ya baby, ok?” and then he slowly brushes his lips against yours in the softest of a kiss.

As he pulls away he says “how’s that, huh?”

“I don’t know” you say “I didn’t really feel it, kinda sucked really” you answer back at him referencing the kiss and not the remark that he’s going to keep you safe. Joel snorts at you while shaking his head and says “smartass.” 

“Yeah but you love me” you say with a smirk.  When you hear Joel slowly inhale and exhale closing his eyes you feel a tight pain in your chest, one where you know heartache is going to lie in a minute if you don’t tell Joel how you feel.  You can’t say the words that you love him yet, as you don’t want to open yourself up for that much rejection, but you need him to understand what you feel.  You gently grab Joel’s left hand and run your finger over his ring finger, at the place where a wedding band would lay, one that you hoped would lay there for you someday, even if just in your mind. You softly plead with him saying “Joel. Please, I need you.”

Joel felt a knot form in his chest at your plea. Not from the request, but from the way you sounded so soft, almost broken.  He couldn’t stand that feeling anymore from you. He couldn't stand looking at you when you felt so small and scared. God he hated it when you felt like that, especially when it was him who caused it. He now looked at you with concern laced across his features as he said “what baby, what do you need? Tell me.” 

After a moment you say looking down at your hand holding his “I need you, Joel. All of you. I need you to kiss me like you did in that dream, like you truly care and not stop cause you get scared, cause I’m scared of losing you and being alone and-”

Joel gently takes your hand in his while using the other hand to tilt your chin up slowly to look him in the eyes. You were nervous to look at him at first, but he just waits for you to look at him by gently holding your chin in place. As you slowly raise your eyes up to meet his you notice that his eyes are full of passion and something that may look like love, but you are unsure.  He takes a deep breath and exhales and then says softly “ok baby, ok. ‘M gonna give you what you need, ok Angel? Shh, no more crying” he says as he slowly wipes a tear away.  He then carefully leans down and kisses you ever so lightly on the lips. 

You melt into the kiss that Joel gives you, not pushing you or forcing you. Just holding you gently and kissing you passionately, but then after a moment Joel kisses you again with a little more roughness. He skims his tongue along on your lower lip silently begging you to grant him access into your mouth.  You silently open your mouth for him and you feel the heat intensify between you two.  The next thing you know you both are swallowing each other’s soft moans that are leaving each of your mouths as you wrestle with each other’s tongues trying to see which one of you will establish dominance, and it is Joel that wins out.  

As Joel thrusts his tongue into your mouth, he licks on the inside of it while picking you up and walking you back over to the bed and laying you down on top of the bed while saying “come on pretty girl, relax for me.”  After a heavy makeout session you are grabbing at his belt to remove it and to pull down the zipper of his pants.  He catches your hand and says “no sweetheart, not tonight” as he gently pulls off from you.  Out of frustration you snap “what the fuck Joel, why not” you say.

He laughs slightly and gives you a quip of “ever hear of delayed gratification darlin’?”

“You’re joking, right?” you say not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Not joking sweetheart, dead fucking serious. You ever hear of it?” he says with a smirk.

“Jesus. Yes Joel I’ve heard of it” you say. “Why the hell does it matter now?” you quip back feeling frustrated at the man in front of you.

“It matters darlin’, okay? I’m gonna do it right with ya. It’ll make it feel better in the end, you beggin’ for it. You won’t know what hit ya when it happens” he says with a smirk on his face.

“Fuck you, Joel” you say under your breath.  “You know we have already fucked so what’s the difference if we do it now?”

“Don’t remind me” he says sternly. “I gave in to my animalistic tendencies and never properly did things with you” he says shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me” you say outloud, more to yourself than to him.  

Joel eyes you for a moment and then says “darlin’ look, I usually don’t put out on the first date, ok. I make ‘em wait a little bit, and I wanna do that with you. I want to do this right, ok? Wanna do this right darlin’, court you the right way. Now be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You stare at him dumbfounded that he, of all people, wants to keep to tradition of attempting to date you. You can’t believe it, but you also know Joel enough that if you don’t agree to this then he won’t do any of it, and you don’t want that either.  So you reluctantly agree saying “Yes Joel, I’ll be a good girl” with a gentle smile. But in your mind you think you’re gonna regret this Miller. I’m gonna tease you so bad you’ll be the one begging me for it in the end. 

With a smile and a nod Joel says “good honey, glad ya see things my way.  And don’t worry darlin’, I’m gonna eventually fuck you. Deep. Hard. Passionate. But ya gotta earn it first. M’kay?” he says with a smirk on his face.  You smile and nod your head like the good little girl that you are, thinking to yourself yup Miller, we’ll see who’s begging for it the most in the end.

And that’s what you’re going to do.  You’re going to allow that big old broody man to date you the way he wishes with the only goal of making him beg for it the worst in the end. He’s denied you for a long time and yes, you know you will eventually give in to him, but you want him to beg for it like he told you he did in his dream. And you think to yourself Man, this winter is going to be one hell of a winter; full of many warm, dirty, surprises.

--End of Chapter 4-- 

Author’s note: Thank you so much guys for supporting me with this series.  For those who have read all of the parts to My Journey to You you find that I drop Easter eggs in the chapter of something the next chapter will bring.  I’ve dropped a lot in this one.  Next chapter we get into David and how this person was with the reader along with the slow burn of Joel and female reader’s relationship. Please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know in the comments.  I only tag people for completed chapters (not for teasers of chapters).  If you want teasers, make sure to turn on notifications for my page.

Side note: Joel’s dream state that he had in this chapter is a huge teaser for another series I am slowly going to start to write.  Don’t worry, I am continuing on with this one too, but I wanted to also write something outside of this series to give you all a little variety.  Also, some one-shots will be coming out in the future too (don’t worry, for those who want to be added to my tag list I will include you guys on those too when they come out).  Enjoy 

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346

[crusty-chronicles]

The Moon and Sun (Big Sib reader x Gon/Killua)

Synopsis: (Platonic) Older reader goes soft after unexpectedly looking out for two boys. Whether it be troubled past or mutant ants, their promise to protect will never waiver.

CH 1: The Trouble with Flying Solo

"If you're going to run, then run...But no matter how fast you are or how far you go, we'll always find you"

You glared up at the stars after failing to fall asleep yet again. The sensation of pins and needles pricked your spine, urging you to get up. Instead, you opted to turn to your side. It was far too early to be awake, and there was no way in hell you were staying up three days in a row. Maybe you were thinking too much. An active mind usually meant an active (albeit completely drained) body.

"Just close your eyes and clear your thoughts," you mumbled.

It was gonna be a long night and an even longer day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Have you heard about the bomber?" "They say someone's going around killing people for cards!" "The bomber struck again, we just found another victim!"

Goddamnit. This shit again. You'd thought the attacks would've stopped by now. It'd been around two months since you'd been in any town, plenty of time to find out who it was. Who would've thought some psycho would go on a killing spree in an already difficult game to beat? They were just cards, after all.

"I hope that fool blows himself up," you muttered.

'What was that?" The shopkeeper asked you.

"Don't worry about it." There was no use in getting an NPC worked up over something they didn't understand. Besides, your thoughts about the current circumstance didn't matter. As long as nobody suspicious crossed your path, you didn't care. You focused your thoughts on the shopkeeper in front of you.

"Got any sleep spells?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Was it 10?

13?

15?

21.

There had been 21 new players you sensed near the main area. 21 new potential causalities in this already dangerous world. With any luck, they'd be cautious around new people. Still, it was strange to see so many new players at once. Maybe they were sent to help the larger group already here. The more hands they had, the easier it would be to beat Greed Island.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BOOM!!!

"OH MY GOODNESS!!!" "THE BOMBER STRIKES AGIAN!" “HE KILLED HIM!"

A man dropped dead not 10 feet from you. You couldn't help but look away. However, it seemed everyone around you couldn't take their gaze away from him. Maybe if you were quick enough, you'd be able to leave before a bigger crowd formed. Unfortunately by the time you realized this, it was too late. You were boxed in.

You kept your head down, not wanting to see the carnage. The blood pooling beneath him. The stench of scorched skin. You let out a small sigh.

Today was supposed to be a good day.

You'd felt the presence behind you before they reached out. With a swift move to the side, you missed the hand reaching for your shoulder. Your eyes were daggers as you glared at the man behind you.

"Don't touch me."

His eyes widened at your words.

"Sorry, I wanted to know if you were okay. With the body in front of you, I thought you went into shock. It's not every day you see someone die." His smile looked sincere, but his eyes... You could tell something wasn't right with him. Perhaps he was the bomber?

"I thought I told you to keep away from me when you asked me to join your group." Your glare hadn't wavered.

"Is it so wrong for me to be concerned about another player?" He asked. "You've been here for two years after all. Long enough to know you can’t beat this game all by yourself.”

You hated Genthru for the single reason that he wouldn’t leave you alone.

"I will not repeat myself. Don't touch me and don't talk to me." The crowd had thinned out, making it easier for you to slip away. You could have sworn you felt bloodlust from behind you.

Whatever, if that fool wanted to fight you, he'd have to catch you first.

--------------------------------

You continued on your way back towards your temporary home: the desert behind Masadora. It wasn’t ideal, but it was isolated enough to not be bothered.

You sat on the ground for a while lost in thought.

Twenty-one new players. Another bombing incident right after. And the feeling of Genthru's bloodlust.

He was plotting something.

A bloodlust that strong wasn't normal. Try as he might to suppress it, you could see it clear as day. It wasn't anger fueling his aura, it was anticipation. But for what?

Maybe he just got off on seeing dead bodies.

Maybe he was just a plain creep.

Or maybe, just maybe he was behind all those attacks.

God you hoped those new players knew better than to trust the first person who seemed nice.

But what did it matter anyways. It wasn't your problem. It wasn't your job to find out. You shouldn't even be wasting your time thinking about this.

"Promise me you'll stop. You have to promise that you won’t listen to them!"

You punched the rock next to you as hard as you could. You didn't need this right now. It was as if needles were pricking your chest and something was wrapping around your throat.

Why was there a pit in your stomach all of a sudden? Why was it getting harder to breathe?

Why were you feeling guilty?

Goddamnit

Goddamnit all.

"I....." Your words stopped in your throat.

"I," you tried again.

You let out one final sigh before you spoke again, head too full to think.

"Sleep... I need sleep..."

The feeling stopped at once.

You were overthinking again. Too caught up with current events. If Genthru was the bomber, he had a shitty way of hiding it. And those new players, if they were strong enough to get their hands on a copy of Greed Island, they were strong enough to last here.

Your mind finally cleared with your justifications.

It was about time you tried out that sleeping spell you bought. Three days and counting was proving to not be such a good idea.

----------------------------------

What was that power?

That immense show of strength.

The sheer amount of nen being used woke you up.

Bummer, it hadn't even been a couple of hours. The sun had just set by the looks of it. It didn't matter anyways, not with your current dilemma. Who was treading in on your territory?

Who was foolish enough to travel through here? Weren't they warned about the monsters?

Damn, there went that spike of nen again.

Whoever it was, they were strong, and not too far away from you.

You focused your eyes towards the direction of their nen.

There were two auras close together, both strong. It seems they were the ones causing all the commotion. You could sense two more a little further back. One was even stronger than the first two. And the other was weak, yet unstable.

And all of them were getting too close.

Should you run?

Would they sense you if you didn't?

Should you just approach them?

No, it was better if they didn't know you were here. Still, with auras like those, it was intriguing. The three closest didn't show signs of bloodlust. The furthest one, however, had malice. Which meant they were tracking the others

Choices choices choices

Leave them be, it's none of your concern.

You'll have another sleepless night if you don't help them.

You went back and forth between yourself for a few minutes.

Goddamnit.

--------------------------------------

You'd expected a lot to be honest.

Tough, ragged warriors duking it out with the desert monsters.

But not this.

Not three little kids arguing with each other.

"Now, give me 200 push-ups!"

"HUH!??"

"It's your punishment. Now get to it."

"Hey what the hell!?! Why should I?!"

You kicked a rock in their direction, disrupting the argument between the blonde little girl and white haired boy. All three of the kids stared at you.

Welp, you were already here. It's not like you could back out now. You'd have an even worse conscience if you left.

"Hi."

The two boys jumped back.

"Book!" They shouted in unison. It was likely they'd already run into card raiders from their reaction.

You put your hands up and stood where you were.

"If I was going to hurt you I wouldn't have made my presence known, you know? Besides who gets their sick kicks from attacking children?"

The one in green seemed to lower his guard.

"Yeah and why should we believe you?" The white haired one questioned.

"Good point. I wouldn't trust me either. It's not wise to trust strangers." The only one who seemed unfazed by your presence was the girl. The one with the strongest nen.

"With that said, you can either listen to my warning or disregard it. I don't care either way." You pointed behind them, towards a nearby cliff.

"Someone's been following you. In fact, they’re watching us right now. I don't know how you kids managed to get into Greed Island, but you should know this area's dangerous." You turned to leave but stopped as the unknown aura spiked. It had been a blink and you'd miss it feeling.

So they were tracking the kids.

How disgusting.

"You sensed them before I did," the girl spoke at last.

"Not even pro hunters with decades of experience can do that. His presence was perfectly concealed until now, so explain yourself."

You frowned. It felt like you were being lectured by an adult. But you couldn't worry about that right now. The murky presence was drawing nearer.

"Let's get through this first before I tell you anything."

If you really tried, you might be able to carry all three of them away. One in each arm and one on your back.

"So they were telling the truth?" The boy in green asked.

"I'm afraid so. But it's not a problem. I've got the perfect plan. If I head on north by myself, he's almost guaranteed to follow me. You two, er, three will head towards that pillar without concealing your presence, then head back. Got it?"

Was this kid crazy??? Sure her aura was strong, but when you fight against someone who's crazy, it's a whole other level.

"Absolutely not. I'll provide a distraction and you kids get out of here as fast as you can."

"Kids? Just who do you think you're talking to. I may not look it, but I've lived at least three times your lifetime. Now stop wasting time!"

----------------------------------------

Turns out that little girl was Biscuit Krueger: an infamous Gemstone Hunter. She'd managed to take out the stalker with just 2 blows. Seems you had nothing to worry about at all.

The boy with white hair was Killua Zoldyck: part of an assassin family.

And the boy in green was Gon Freecs: a beginner hunter.

"So, what's your name?" He asked. It was very apparent that Gon was the outgoing type. He seemed like a sweet kid.

"Y/n." You should've been up and on your way. You really should have. The kids, the real kids, were with Bisky. They'd be fine, but a part of you was curious.

"How did you get a copy of Greed Island?"

"Well my dad and his friends made the game, and he left me with a copy to use once I became a hunter. Me and Killua think it'll have a clue on his whereabouts."

That explained it. Wait what??? He was looking for his dad????? Here in a game where people were constantly dying?????? Was that dude crazy???? And he made this for his kid?????

"He must really love you or really hate you. For your sake I hope it's the first one." Gon laughed at your words.

"You think he's got it rough, my mom had me chained down in my room for leaving," Killua interjected. And it was so sudden it gave you whiplash.

"I'm sorry?????!!!! What!???? Are you like okay!???"

"What? I thought we were sharing."

"Speaking of sharing," it was Bisky who spoke now. "You never did say how you were able to sense Binolt."

You gave a tired sigh before answering.

"Let's just say I didn't have an easy childhood either. That and it's part of my nen ability. I could sense all of you from a distance. I thought it couldn't hurt to help and warn you about the other guy. It didn't look like you were traveling with him and his aura was filled with malice."

Both boys were looking at you with keen interest.

"You mean you could sense all four of us!???"

"And you weren't even using gyo!???"

You gave a weak grin, exhaustion once again taking over.

"I'm just that special."

Gon was grabbing your arm shaking with excitement.

"You've got to tell us what your nen ability is!!!"

Killua was on your other side, gripping your other arm with just as much enthusiasm.

"Yeah! Or at least teach us how to do it! You'd probably be a better teacher than that old hag!"

Despite the shouting and shaking of the boys, your eyes were drooping closed. Three days was indeed a lot. 

"Tell you what," you stifled a yawn. "Let me sleep on it okay." Then everything went black.

Too much excitement for one day combined with fading adrenaline knocked you out. It was an interesting situation you'd gotten yourself into.

But as you slept soundly, the absence of nightmares let you know that deciding to get involved was a good decision after all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fun Fact #1: Y/n’s nen ability allows them to see and sense any aura within a 100 meter radius without using gyo. The stronger the person, the easier it is to see.

MASTERLIST

[v-i-r-i-d-i-a-n]

Episode 83 thoughts and quotes 🤗

Filipe;“I’ll just heal you in my post kill clarity unitl we figure this out”

Gillion;“This is healthy.”

Jay;“NO THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA-“

Chip;”But also if we keep Filipe on the ship is gonna keep trying to stab you-“

Gillion;”Well yeah but I’ll forget about it, so it’s fine!”

Jay;”that’s not like good though-“

Chip *overlapping*;”No- no that’s not okay-“

Mmmm Gillion self sacrificial tendencies go brr

Jay:”You wouldn’t know them they went to a different- ship.” (Not actually bitchless)

Chip;”You don’t have to explain yourself to Filipe.” (Actually bitchless)

Gillion;”No no I killed the vibe! It was me- I- I remember killing the vibe-! The vibe has been dead! I killed the vibe! Fuckin’ days ago!”

Chip*Overlapping*;”No- Gillion- Gillion you didn’t kill the vibe, you’re the vibe master, add it to the titles, you’re a vibe master!”

Gillion;”I’ll change my voice, and everything about myself- for you!”

Jay;”Gillion- that’s not healthy.”

Filipe:”I wanna be your friends, why are you trying to get rid of me” MY POOR BABY SHDHSLDJDJ

Chip;”So he wants to stab you- every night,”

Gillion;”Every night yes.”

Chip;”And I’m the problem???”

Gillion;”Yes.”

Jay;”Let’s go ask Ollie he’ll know”

Chip;”Ollie is eight.”

Filipe is making me fucking sob goddamnit I love Gillion I love Filipe

OMG FINN FUCKING TIDESTRIDER LETS GOOOO

Gillion and Finn my beloved

Gillion;”Can we wait till he’s awake before you take my grandpas clothes off?”

Drey;”I’m not gonna ask you kids to risk your life”

Gillion;”You don’t need to…I’m sure we’ll end up doing it anyways.”

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Thirteen

Joel Miller x F! Reader.

Word count - 4359

Well, it's finally springtime and you and Joel take that trip out to the museum. If you're still reading then you know what Joel's plans for Ellie's sixteenth birthday are by now. I adore the museum scene, its so wholesome.

Also given that Ellie calls Joel a dinosaur in that scene, I had to make some double entendre about riding them. Entirely necessary.

Come Home

Chapter Thirteen - Feel

SPRING

Gentle, tinkling, tiny, joyful sounds. Warmth that is undeniably sunlight across your arm. Freshness and dew cut with an undercurrent of Joel as you inhale deeply and come back to yourself. Your eyes flutter open and are met with cool, blue surroundings, dappled above with patches of sunshine and shadow.

You sit up abruptly, your sleeping bag rustling as it falls away from your body, and you suddenly realise what this all means.

“Goddamnit Joel,” you huff as you scrub the sleep from your eyes, extricate yourself from your bedding and crawl toward the tent opening.

He’s sitting on a log stump outside and tuning his guitar, long fingers plucking softly at the strings and the sounds mixing with the sweeping birdsong that's heralding the morning. A pot sizzles over a flame and two cups wait to be filled next to a thermos.

“Mornin’” he greets you, briefly looking up from his task with a knowing smile.

“Joel-“ you begin in a warning tone.

“Yeah, I know, I know. But I figured you needed the rest after yesterday.”

You busy yourself with the cups, pouring each of you a small measure of coffee that had been hot twenty four hours ago and was now merely lukewarm.

“We’re gonna have to boil some water if we want more of this,” you remark offhandedly. “And I’m fine after yesterday.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow and you try not to wince at the ache between your thighs.

“Sure didn’t seem like it the amount of noise you were makin’ last night.”

“Alright…mister…cowboy,” you say, struggling to come up with a suitable insult and failing miserably. “We’re not all from Texas you know.”

“You sayin’ I’m a cowboy jus’ ‘cause ahm from Texas?” he asks in mock affront, overly exaggerating his soft accent as he does.

“I’m saying that I think you’re more used to riding horses long distances than I am,” you reply. “And you gotta stop letting me sleep in. The sun’s way up. We’ll never get there at this rate.”

“Alright, I promise. Crack of dawn tomorrow,” he smiles.

“Well…maybe not the crack of dawn,” you mutter before you take a sip of watered down coffee.

“Crack of noon, then.”

“Joel!”

He laughs at your frustration with him. “Fine, we’ll keep better hours. Well…that is to say I’ll make you keep better hours.”

“Never thought I’d miss the alarm on my phone. I’m sorry I’m so shit at waking up. I don’t know how you manage to sneak out every morning without me noticing.”

“Oh, you are dead to the world,” he replies, then winces and mutters, “Oof that’s a poor choice of words.”

“Just a bit!”

“I’ll kick you awake tomorrow, how’s that for an alarm?”

“As long as you stay away from my saddle sores we’ll be fine, Miller.”

He chuckles and places his guitar gently against the tree stump before going to fiddle with the pot on the stove. What you knew, what you were absolutely not prepared to talk about was that you were sleeping so well because of him. To reduce the amount you had to carry on this trip out, it had been agreed that you would bring one large tent instead of two individual ones. By Maria’s calendar it was mid-March. The days were longer and the sun was actually starting to feel warm now, but the nights and evenings were still chilly, and you were always grateful for the extra warmth he had provided within the tent when you would change over the watch in the middle of the night. Not to mention the comfort of having him so close, knowing he was just outside and keeping you safe while you slept.

When you had announced that you would be going out for several days alone, Ellie hadn’t been able to resist.

“Oh yeeeaaaah?” she had said, an exaggerated leer on her face.

Joel had sighed in a deeply put upon way. “Chrissake Ellie, you know the routes ain’t been maintained as well as they should have been over winter. There’s gotta be infected that have thawed out, movin’ around again. You want them at the door?”

“Yeah but… why for so long? And why just you two? Group patrols are a thing you know. I’m just sayin’ you have been going out together a lot.” She over-enunciated the last word, snapped the ‘t’ sound harshly.

“Yeah, well, we work well together. And Tommy’s busy with the dam and-tsk! What am I doin’ explainin’ myself to you? You just do what Maria says when I’m away and concentrate on that farmin’ rotation you’ve been given.”

She had folded her arms and looked disgusted. “Urgh, don’t remind me. I think I’d even rather be with you loved-up fogeys than do that shit.”

You had barely been able to stifle your laughter at the look of outrage on Joel’s face. “Ellie-!”

“Oh calm your beard. I know, I know. ‘Nothin’ goin’ on.’”

At that moment you had caught her amused look and a thought had struck you. Was this more than a teenager teasing her father to the point of exasperation? Did Ellie want there to be something between you? She had quickly looked back at Joel who was in the middle of telling her what a pain she was, but you were almost sure of it. For some reason, Ellie wanted this to happen.

It was a notion that had played on your mind a lot as you had journeyed through the freshly budding forest toward the museum. It would explain why she had been making more and more frequent plans for the three of you. For dinner, or to play cards or games, or to occasionally watch movies – the usual things - but then she would leave abruptly, citing tiredness or a forgotten meeting with friends leaving you and Joel alone to spend the evenings together. Though perhaps you were overthinking it and she really did just want to go to sleep, or hang around with people her own age. It would also explain her odd behaviour the evening you had overheard her argument with Joel, at least partially.

Your feelings about him were pretty straightforward. Over the past few months, thanks in part to you being neighbours, to Ellie’s apparent scheming, and the fact you didn’t have much interest in being close with a ton of people, you had spent a fair bit of time with him and had grown to enjoy his company more and more. His humour, which fluctuated between gentle wit and outright acerbity, the cleverness of his mind and of his fingers which could work wood in a way that enthralled you, his kindness toward you and toward Ellie, and of course his physical self, so solid and broad and commanding. Yeah, you were pretty sure your feelings had developed way past the crush stage.

Your thoughts around what you were feeling were a completely different story. Though you had settled into your house, though your panic attacks had abated to the point of being an occasional issue to deal with rather than a thing to dread day to day, you found yourself unable to cross that threshold and begin to embrace the things that you had left behind on the filthy vinyl flooring of a hospital in Portland. That he had managed to get under your skin in just a few short months was alarming, and you still couldn’t pick apart what came from him and what came from the cradling of the security that Jackson itself offered. That you laughed more often, spoke more freely – were these the effects of the tentative sparks in your heart, or just a relaxation of the grip that constant survival had upon your mind and body?

If your behaviours had changed toward him beyond the intricacies of a simple blossoming friendship, he hadn’t seemed to notice, and you hoped you weren’t as transparent about your feelings as you thought you were, though you suspected that some of the people closest to you had an inkling.

On your last patrol, a standard creek run, Vanessa had accompanied you and had brought up the subject as you had ridden through the now fully thawed, though still freezing cold waters.

“So…you and Joel, huh?”

“Oh fuck, not you as well!” you had groaned loudly.

“He’s a handsome man. If I were ten years younger…” she had pursed her lips into a kissy face and raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with something that’s not actually happening?” you had wondered to the forest in general.

“Because we live in a small town and there’s not much juicy gossip around?” Vanessa had laughed. “Most folks are paired off already, so when the possibility of two, single, attractive people getting together arises, there’s gonna be some talk.” You opened your mouth to reply but she cut you off immediately. “And don’t come all that shy shit about not being pretty. You are. So’s he. Deal with it.”

You sighed. “Just don’t let him hear any of it. Between you and Ellie he’s gonna have an aneurysm.”

“So you two really never-“

“No!” you exclaimed, more forcefully than you had intended. Vanessa looked a little taken aback and you sighed and spoke more normally. “Not that I’d kick him out of bed-“ her grin stretched widely across her face “-but it’s complicated! He lives right next door. He’s got Ellie to think of. I have a whole fuckload of shitty baggage. And if anything did happen and it went bad what happens then? Do I just…leave? Take my chances outside? Fuck that, I’ve gotten too used to hot water! If it’s a choice between Joel and sleeping in a proper bed, I’m choosing the bed.”

You rode along in silence for a minute or so. Then-

“He’s got a bed too y’know.”

“Jesus, Ness! Let it go,” you had said laughingly.

“Okay, okay fine. Let’s go kill some shit.”

After that, you had begun to notice some of the looks that came your way when you and Joel were together – either at the bar, or when you would be in the stables preparing to ride out together, or even just walking around town. Some of the looks were appraising, some interested, some even a little unfriendly. Joel didn’t seem to notice at all, and you had no idea if that came from a place of obliviousness or intentionality.

The journey to the museum had been pretty uneventful thus far, barring a few lone and wandering infected and the fact that you had to physically clear quite a few paths through the trees with your machete, so you had been able to enjoy how beautiful the forest was in spring – warm dappled sun slanting through the trees, birdsong, trickling streams, the soft wafting of gentle breezes bringing the scent of blossom with them. But riding for so long every day through uneven terrain was definitely taking a toll, and even though you had tried to hide your discomfort from Joel he had worked it out pretty quickly and slowed the pace from the ten hour rides you had been doing. It did help the chafing of your inner thighs. It also meant more time with him, and that wasn’t ever a bad thing.

Your favourite parts of the journey had been the evenings you had spent together – three so far. While Joel prepared the food, you would set up the tent and bedding, and after eating you would sit and talk under the canopy of stars. It was simple, and very much like the routine you had found yourself falling into with him in Jackson, but being outside lent an additional sense of romance to it all. It was silly, you knew that. After all, you and he had both spent many nights sleeping outside out of necessity over the years. And all it took was for one infected to stumble into your camp for the rose tinted vision you had to come crashing down with force. But you allowed yourself to indulge while you could. To listen to his gravelly, whispery tones as he sang softly and strummed his guitar. To watch for shooting stars and pick out the constellations you knew among the mass of twinkling above. To look at him in the moonlight as he cleaned and re-packed the cooking and eating utensils, his movements sparse and graceful.

“Okay, hold up.”

Joel is slowing to a halt ahead and you pull up alongside him to see why. There is a somewhat clear path ahead, a break in the trees where you can see rusted hulks of metal under the snaking green that is slowly reclaiming all in its path. A bus shelter, covered in moss and trailing vines stands to one side, patiently awaiting passengers that will never arrive.

“We getting close?”

He pulls a map from a pocket inside his coat and studies it for a moment before he nods. “Probably another hour’s ride or so. If nothin’ gets in the way.”

“Just don’t say it’ll be smooth sailing or some shit. Else we’re bound to get swarmed.”

He grins at you before setting off again, leading you down the middle of the cracked tarmacked street. Cars are still few and far between here, some with skeletal occupants inside, most abandoned. The grass is beginning to sprout high now there is no layer of snow flattening it, and you hear the skitter of small animals as they run to the safety of the trees while you make your way through their home. Their presence is reassuring. Though animals can’t get infected in the same way that humans can, they still don’t enjoy the company of the fungus anymore than you do. You’re surprised by the lack of infected around, and you voice this to Joel.

“Could be any number of reasons,” he shrugs, keeping his voice low regardless of the apparent safety around you. “This area wasn’t too populated in the best of times. Maybe winter meant they couldn’t move around as much as they usually do. Hell, maybe they migrated south when it got cold. Who knows with those things…oh no.” This last is groaned and you too feel a weariness when you see what he does.

“Welp.” Joel sighs as he surveys the gaping sinkhole that has broken the line of the road you are following. “Guess we’re back to fightin’ our way through.”

You divert from the remnants of the road and begin to struggle your way through the undergrowth, Joel picking the paths of least resistance. The sound of running water grows steadily clearer until you can see the gleam of it through the thinning trees to your right. You follow the fat, slow moving stream as it meanders its way through the landscape, the bank that you are on growing ever higher as you do. Finally, the path narrows to a point that it would be dangerous for the horses to traverse it even in single file, and Joel jumps down from his mount.

“The museum should be right around here. We’re gonna have to leave the horses for a bit.”

“You sure they’ll be okay?”

“Lots of grass, no infected around. They’ll be fine. Probably happy to have a break.”

Joel takes point again, pulling back branches as he goes to make your egress easier while you hug the rocky bank of the stream as it curves below you. A few springtime flowers have begun to push through – tiny purple blue periwinkles, small yellow primroses, startlingly white azaleas that stretch in patches across the earth and mix with the greenery that is also emerging. The small trail of dirt you have been able to follow thus far very rapidly runs out as boulders of increasing size begin to be strewn across your way and loom large to the left. You cast about for another track, but it seems clear what you have to do.

“Looks like we’re swimmin’” Joel sighs, echoing your thoughts.

“I was gonna ask if this water looks clean enough to wash in. Guess I’m about to find out.”

You take the time to button your shirt up over your plain white t-shirt underneath. No need to put on a show, after all. Then you walk down the muddy bank and step tentatively into the water, grimacing as the cold almost immediately rushes into your boots and soaks your socks. Even here in the water there are challenges to overcome. A fallen tree blocks your progression and you take a deep breath before diving underneath it, avoiding the clutches of the branches that spike from it in random directions and the exposed roots that burst from the river bank itself. A hollow in a rock ahead forms a small, submerged tunnel that there is no other way around, and you force yourself to follow Joel and pass through it quickly before you can begin to panic about getting trapped underneath.

After a good five minutes of swimming you reach a place where the stream opens out into a pool, and you both take a moment to survey your surroundings, the high sides of the banks on each side looking like an insurmountable obstacle to your journey onward.

“Which direction?” you ask as you tread water. Joel indicates with a wave of his hand and you point out a place that looks as good as any for landing. He heaves himself up on to the slimy, moss encrusted rock lip and then reaches down to you to give you a helping hand up.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly as you stand, shaking your hands out to try and rid yourself of some of the moisture that now permeates all of your clothes. You try very hard not to look at the way Joel’s wet shirt is now stuck to his skin, the way it hugs the curve of his shoulders and biceps.

“Should just be through there,” he says, pointing in a direction that looks a lot like every other. You begin to move through the trees again, now both dripping a trail of water behind you.

“So what made you think of this as a present?” you ask.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I could get her. I wanted to do somethin’ for her instead y’know? And she told me she wanted to be an astronaut once, so I thought…well I thought about what I woulda done with Sarah. She loved museums, was always draggin’ me to them. And so I looked at the map and wouldn’t ya know…Science museum.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Just practical really,” he says, shortly but not unkindly.

On a few of the evenings you had spent with Joel after being abandoned by Ellie he had mentioned Sarah in passing. What she liked. Things she and Ellie would have bonded over. And once, when a few glasses of wine had been taken, a regret that he had spent so many hours working late when he could have been with her. You hadn’t asked what had happened. Hadn’t needed to. That she wasn’t here and Ellie was told the story very clearly.

“Well, I think this is it,” Joel says, breaking into your thoughts with faint amusement in his voice. You follow the direction of where he’s looking and chuckle.

A life-size Tyrannosaurus Rex stands mightily in the middle of a clearing, ivy twining all the way up its tail to wrap around one of its puny arms. The sun keeps disappearing and reappearing behind some distinctly grey-ish looking clouds and the dappled sunlight adds to its colouring, painting it with stripes of shadow that look like camouflage. It is magnificent, completely intact and standing as king of a small island surrounded by an unplanned lake that you presume is fed by the same stream by which you came, and that laps against the rotting wooden benches that stand here and there. With the trees surrounding it, it looks as if it belongs here in a way that you do not, as if you had been transported back to a time when humanity didn’t exist at all rather than at near-extinction.

The heavy double doors that are the gateway to the museum open easily enough, their shattered glass crunching under your feet as you enter the main atrium. Grass and vines and branches from the trees outside have encroached here, a carpet and wallpaper of nature that breathes life into the dead space and unintentionally adds a more natural backdrop to the dinosaur skeletons that greet you upon arrival.

“Guns out?” you ask Joel, quietly. Though the air is still and all is silent, and it looks as if this place has lain undisturbed since the outbreak, you could never be totally sure.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees, drawing his own.

You move through the darkened corridor into another room, this one lit brightly by the sunlight streaming through a lichen-streaked glass ceiling above. There are several complete dinosaur skeletons here, and as you contemplate the bones it suddenly strikes you how odd it is that these dead things are the same as they were twenty, fifty, a million years ago, yet humanity had gone through a similar extinction event but would leave no legacy except crumbling buildings that would very soon be dust. The bones of the dinosaurs had outlived the humans that had found them so fascinating, and there would be no one to remember the remains of the dominant species before the fungus, no one to witness their passing or mourn their achievements. It was an uncomfortable, maudlin feeling. You reach out and stroke the beak of the mighty Triceratops standing before you.

“Your favourite?”

“Yeah, it was. Is. I don’t think anyone really grows out of having a favourite dinosaur do they?”

“Don’t they?”

You turn to Joel with a disbelieving expression no words required.

“Okay, fine,” he relents laughingly. “I’d have to say my favourite would be…the velociraptor. Those guys were smart. In Jurassic Park at least.”

“Smart enough to be here when we aren’t,” you murmur, your eyes back on the horns and frill of the one in front of you.

“Hey, we’re here aren’t we?” You can hear the continued smile in his voice and it brings one to your own face, stirring a sense of energised recklessness within you. Fuck it. You are here, when so many others aren't. And you aren't going to waste this opportunity.

"You're right. And I'm gonna do something I always wanted to."

You climb the barrier into the place where the Triceratops stands and gingerly press against the bones that are held together with wires, then shake them a little more insistently. They seem sturdy enough.

“Give me a boost, will you?”

“You goin’ up there?” he asks incredulously.

“Joel, I’m going to tell you a secret about women that will blow your mind and is, essentially, the secret to understanding us. All of them, every single woman that ever walked this earth wanted to ride a dinosaur into battle like some prehistoric Valkyrie.”

“That sounds extremely specific,” he grins. “You sure it’s not just you?”

“Nope. All women. True fact.”

“What about the women that didn’t know what dinosaurs were? Like, before they were discovered.” he asks as he joins you next to the Triceratops.

“Nuh-uh,” you say, holding up an admonishing finger at him. “Your logic isn’t welcome here, Miller. All of them. Trust me. And thank me when you use that information to get a date.”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to impart some sassy retort, but instead merely gives you an extremely unimpressed look before sighing heavily and bending down so you can boost yourself up. The skeleton sways a little as you drag yourself into position, but it holds and you shift your backside over the uncomfortable ridges of the bones underneath you before raising your arms triumphantly as you sit behind the big, bony plate on its head.

“Haaaa! I am the dinosaur queen!” you exclaim, forgetting for a moment where you are and the fact that you have not explored this place thoroughly. You slap a hand over your mouth and look down at Joel with wide eyes, listening intently. Silence. No nightmare noises, no rush of infected or living to investigate the source of the sound. Just the cool, still, peaceful air around you.

“Fuck yeah!” you add, lifting your arms to the sky again once you’re sure nothing is coming to get you.

“Christ, woman, you’re worse than the kid,” Joel laughs.

“Oh what I wouldn’t give for a camera right now,” you sigh. “And one of those Viking helmets. And a cape. And a sword.”

“I can see it,” he admits. “Women like riding dinosaurs. Who’da thought it.”

As you slide off the Triceratops he catches you to break your fall, holding you at your waist and gently placing you back on the ground. You try your best to ignore that your shirt rides up a little and his palms brush your bare skin, the hugeness of his hands around you, the latent strength he displays and the soft amusement in his eyes at your antics.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s see what else they’ve got.”

You continue to walk around the exhibits, ostensibly looking for fungus or evidence of spores or infected, but there’s nothing. A creeping of excitement makes its way into your stomach, the gleeful feeling you used to get when going to museums and galleries before. Only this is so much better. No crowds to obscure your lines of sight, no noise interrupting when you read the information plaques, being able to get right up close and see the majesty of just how big they really were.

A spiral staircase to the floor above leads into another dark passageway, this one decorated with white dots in a simulation of stars and when you emerge into the room beyond-

“Oh yeah,” Joel says with a satisfied look. “She’s gonna love this.”

Next chapter

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery

[timi-tango]

Quick drabble for "The Will to Persevere"

I've been having trouble writing the 3rd chapter of my fic "The Will to Persevere" so as a way to help get me out of my rutt, I wrote a little scenario of the Gaster boys with the Reader on an early day, enjoy!

“So… You’re off to art college yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

“...Thank god! Hah, if you ended up going to that haughty taughty rich college I would’ve smacked you across your head!” 

“Hahah, yeah no way!” 

“Hahah yeah…I’m…  I’m gonna miss you.” “...Me too.” 

Huh..? 

You're awake. What were you.. Dreaming about? Your eyes squint as you think, a groan leaving you while you stretch the sleep away. 

Nope. Can’t remember. 

You roll yourself further into your nest of covers and pillows, continuing to grumble to yourself as you're  determined to go to sleep again. Cmon, just like, five more minutes at least. 

You shift. 

You shift again. 

Nope. 

Ughhh, fine. 

 Huffing a little you begin to sit up and get out of your oh so comfy bed. A quick look at the light crystal on your dresser tells you it's around a quarter to rising. 

The light crystals were so interesting, you had no idea how they dimmed and lit mimicking day and night, instead called rising and resting, but you were absolutely transfixed by them when Papyrus was so kind as to get you one, insisting it was simply to keep you from being late or lazy, and that it was definitely not a gift. 

You snorted a little at the memory. Sure. 

Your own little crystal from the cavern ceiling, how beautiful. Just looking at the mesmerizing thing warmed your SOUL as the memories of the gift and who it came from stirred inside you. 

Speaking of him, he's probably up by now. 

You smile a little as you get some shorts on, deciding to leave on the baggy shirt, hoping your lazy fit would be forgiven since it was so early in the morning. 

Your feet patter on the wooden steps, already smelling delicious food coming from the kitchen. God that smells divine. 

The scene that greets you as you walk into the kitchen makes you smirk a little, oh my god he's so cute. 

There in front of you was Papyrus, Lieutenant of the Royal Guards, in a pink and frilly apron, cooking some morning eggs and bacon. 

You can’t help but let out a snort, the image cemented into your memory. 

You’re fucking dying. Is this why he cooks so early in the morning, so none of us will see him? The sound is immediately registered by Papyrus, a jolt going through him before he quickly turns around, a deep reddish orange blush covering his face when he sees you. “H-HUMAN-” 

I quickly shush him, huffs of air still leaving me and a wide smile as I silently laugh. “I- It's early Papyrus, you’ll wake everyone up, ch-chill.”

You keep laughing a little, Papyrus getting redder and redder by the second, making you get more and more hysterical. You pat him on the arm, trying to calm him down. 

“B-Besides, it looks good on you! Promise I won’t tell anyone, kay?” 

That seemed to calm him down, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his blush going down now while his eyes shift from you to your hand. 

Oh. 

Damnit, you didn’t mean to touch him so casually, it just kinda happened. Fuck, you hoped he wasn’t mad at you. 

“Shit, my bad, didn’t mean to touch you.”

You go to get some water to get away from the situation that was getting increasingly more awkward, way to go you. You reach up into the cabinets for a glass that was just out of reach from your fingers, mouth frowning and brows furrowing while you continued to struggle. 

Goddamnit, you swear you could reach this shelf before- 

Papyrus’ body suddenly overshadows your own, the smell of cloves, cinnamon and spices washing over you, easily picking up the glass you were struggling with and hands it to you. 

You felt your face grow warm for a second, taking the glass and filling it up while uttering a quick thanks.

The Underground just seemed to have a way of making you feel really short. 

…

“Sans Threw Away The Rest Of The Aprons In The House Except For This One.” 

You turn towards Papyrus, cracking a smile as you look at him, already back to tending to the food, eyes trained on the pan. 

Oh my god. “No he didn’t.” 

Papyrus simply sighs. “Yes, He Did.” You snort ugily before covering your face and looking away, soon breaking out into laughter, all awkwardness forgotten in the face of this hilarious prank. In your laughter, you narrowly miss Papyrus glancing at you with a soft smile. 

“Are You Laughing At My Misery?” 

I turn towards Papyrus, his boney brow quirked upwards the only change from his stoic face, waving my hand in denial. “No no, p-promise I just, hahaha! That's, that's really good!” God you couldn’t stop giggling, puns were nice sure, but a good prank? Don’t even get you started. 

“I mean terrible! T-Terrible!” 

Papyrus looks at you as you continue to giggle, poking you softly on your shoulder, making you squirm, his eyes filled with what looked to be mirth and something else, but your teary eyes couldn’t see very well. 

“You Find This Very Funny Huh? Not Afraid Of What I Might Do In Retaliation To Your Laughter? Maybe You Need To Do More Push-Ups In Your Training, Might Get That Ridiculous Humor Out Of You.” No! You look at him with wide eyes, still snickering as you twist and turn as he continues to poke you, just making you laugh more. 

“No, no please! Hahahah, n-no more push-ups!” 

“ey boss, don be killin te’ only person in ‘ere wit a gud sense of humor, yeah? she looks like she's abouta pass out from laughin too much.” 

You look to where the deep voice came from, seeing Sans resting on the entrance of the kitchen, his eye light switching between you and Papyrus, arms folded in front of him. 

Oof, you probably woke him up with all of your racket, he was for sure going to be mad at you for that, Sans didn’t wake up into late evening, and this was still early morning. You wipe away your tears and get out the rest of your laughs while you make your way over to Sans, his signature scent of mezcal, smoke, and cedar wood stronger than usual.

“Heh, sorry Sans, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” giving Sans your best apologetic look, hoping he wouldn’t be too angry with you. 

He keeps eye contact with Papyrus for a few seconds more before looking to you, a wide grin on his face and shifts his stance so he's leaning on the wall with his elbow, hand on his skull, his other hand in his pocket. 

Wow, how smooth. 

“Nah, yer gud dollface, was ‘avin trouble sleepin actually, so came down ta ask if ya’d ‘elp me?” 

You gave him your best displeased face, brows furrowing and a deep frown as you crossed your arms, but the blush across your face was really not working in your favor. Damnit, remember, that's just his personality, millions of other girls hear the same shit, don’t be desperate. 

“Very funny Sans, don’t seem to have much trouble sleeping 99 percent of the time, other girls keeping you company instead?” 

You actually get a snort out of Papyrus with that, surprising you and Sans, Papyrus quickly covering it up by clearing his throat. You look at the back of Papyrus’ head with a shocked smile, woah, a chuckle from thee Papyrus for one of your measly jokes? You felt honored. 

“heh, usually jus’ te thought a ya’s enough, guess it didn’ work today.” 

You simply roll your eyes as his brows raise and he shrugs. You turn and get a stool so you can reach the plates in the cabinet, wanting to set up the table since it looked like Papyrus was almost done. 

“Sure pal. Maybe if your pick up lines were better I’d consider.” Moving past Sans you begin setting up the table, mind wandering to Frisk and if you should wake them up yet or let them sleep. 

“oh if ye wan’ more, ey can always-” “Enough Sans. The Human Is Sick And Tired Of Your Grotesque Puns, Now Sit Down And Wait Patiently Or Else I’ll Give Your Food To Rocky.” 

Your eyes shift to Rocky the Rock in all of their spiked collar glory, who somehow seems to be exuding the aura of being very pleased at that idea. You snort a little, but continue to make the table, now setting up the forks and knives. 

Where did the food that they “fed” Rocky with go? You decided to not think about it too long, simply chalking it up to most of the things down here. 

Magic. 

Sans chuckles a little before teleporting himself into his chair, which was, literally like 2 feet away from him, making you smile slightly and shake your head at him. He simply looks at you and shrugs, winking before speaking to Papyrus. 

“heh, alright boss, whatever ya say.” 

Papyrus gives him a narrowed look as he begins plating the food, Sans looking the same as usual, however you could swear their trademark scent was getting stronger, strong enough for your nose to wrinkle. You looked at Papyrus and point upstairs. “I’m going to wake up Frisk for breakfast.” 

Papyrus just gave you a grunt in response, you turned around and began walking up the stairs when all of a sudden you hear- 

“dam sweetheart, are ye buttdialing me? cause that ass sure is calling te me!” OH MY GOD! You look at Sans with a flustered expression, hands covering your butt as you yell “PERVERT!”, causing Sans to laugh out loud. 

Papyrus slams on the table and begins yelling in his voice he usually uses for work, screaming at Sans. 

“SANS I'VE TOLD YOU-” Groaning, you try your best to tune out the Brothers bickering, sure that Frisk was up by now. 

God, how the hell were you going to survive in the house with the two of them?

_____

Annnd, thats the drabble! God god god god how badly I wish I could skip all the world and relationship building just so I can jump right into this but, alas, thats not how things are meant to be done. ='(

Just some little hcs about the brothers that I need to say, cause their boiling up in me and someone gonna hear them! :

Sans and Papyrus' scents are similar to pheromones in the way that they work to entice a specific person and show their a candid mate to them, and in this instance, with the smell getting stronger, a way to ward of other men from their mate, although Reader has absolutely no idea whats happening and simply thinks they put on their cologne too strongly lmao

Even though on an instinctive level Sans butts heads with Papyrus when it comes to Reader, if it came down to it Sans would give up Reader so Papyrus could be with them, prioritizing his happiness over his own (No they don't hate each other they love each other very much they just have feelings for the same gyal-)

Papyrus on the other hand, doesn't think of this as "only one of us can have her!" type thing, as in most circumstances relationships in the Underground are polyandry (one female multiple males) due to the low birthing rate, so he's more so fighting for the "Alpha" spot so to say, or just simply wanting to be the first one she chooses as her mate. Sans is just a pessimistic poop head who thinks really lowly of himself and doesn't think she'd choose a sleazebag like him at all, but can't help himself from still wanting her

Ok ok I gotta stop myself or else I'm gonna reveal stuff that I shouldn't be ok hope you liked this go read my fic "The Will to Persevere" byeeee!

[jungle-angel]

“I’ve Never Seen Them Stand Up That Quick”

Summary: A frigid winter’s night on the Floyd Ranch brings something no one had ever expected

Notes: Bob x Reader pairing, OC introduction. Also I just got into watching “Reservation Dogs” on Hulu and had to throw a line from it in there (lol) AND SCREW IT!!! BOB’S MOM IS GONNA BE ALIVE FROM HERE ON OUT!!! I REPEAT BOB’S MOM IS ALIVE FROM HERE ON OUT!!! (but we won’t see her until the next fic)

God it had been A DAY......

Bob loaded the last giant log into the woodstove in the stables, hoping that what was already in there would last the night. It was absolutely freezing out and the snowfall hadn’t stopped at all. Winters had always hit the Midwest hard and when they hit, it was often with a vengeance. 

A rather loud snort and a whicker from one of the stalls quickly snagged Bob’s attention. Ruby, the deep red chestnut mare, staggered on her skinny little legs, her sides sticking out from being so heavy with her foal. She must’ve started in her sleep. Hawk had always said animals hold as many memories as men did. Perhaps Ruby had been in the throes of a nightmare. 

She had been an absolute wreck when she and her mate had come to the ranch, an emaciated wreck with a mottled, mange infested coat that left her itching with patches of hair missing. Bob, Joe and Hawk always hated it when they had cases like this, always in disbelief that someone could be so cruel to something so magnificent. 

“Shhhhh Ruby......Ruby...... Ahwayela......shhh...ahwayela,” Bob murmured soothingly as he gently ran his hand down her snout, gripping her bridle for dear life.

Ruby seemed to calm down but Bob still felt her trembling little quiver beneath his hand. He hated being this nervous, lying awake most nights in fear that Ruby might hurt her foal or herself. The last time a horse had been this bad, Bob had been met with the hooves right in his face, his glasses shattering into a mess, leaving him at the hospital to have the lens shards removed. 

“You doin ok in here Robert?” 

There was only one person on the face of this earth who ever called him Robert. He turned around to find Hawk entering the barn with a pair of tin mugs and a camp pot in his hands, his deeply lined and tanned face illuminated in the firelight. His long, pitch black hair had been tied around his head in a long braid with just a few lines of grey beginning to show. His dark blue jacket and jeans were worn with use, his steel toed boots spattered with mud and bits of hay. But there was something in Hawk’s eyes that spoke of an ancient sort of spirit that blended humor and a long line of wisdom in its roots. 

“She’s still skittish,” Bob lamented. “Just loaded a log into the woodstove and she woke up like she heard a gunshot.” 

“She’ll probably be like that for a while,” Hawk told him. “Just keep an eye out for anything else. You want a coffee?” 

Bob shrugged and nodded ‘yes’. It wasn’t like he could go back to bed yet. 

Hawk poured the dark, steaming liquid into one of the tin cups and handed it off to Bob who eagerly drank it, the smell of vanilla and macadamia nut filling his nostrils and tasting like a melted chocolate bar on his tongue. “You snitch this from the kitchen?” Bob asked him. 

“(Y/n) had an extra box on the counter next to the Keurig,” Hawk answered before sticking a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. “She said we could make some if we wanted.” 

Bob gazed thoughtfully at his reflection on the black, liquid surface, still worried about something he knew he couldn’t control. “I don’t know how I ever learned,” Bob sighed wistfully. “It’s just like the Navy sometimes, they throw you in and expect you to know everything.” 

“Oh yes,” Hawk said. “I know your pain. Us Natives have this weird pedagogy, one that says ‘get out and learn fucker’.” 

Bob snorted and choked a little on his coffee. “Goddamnit Hawk!” he laughed. 

“Hey, in all seriousness, you learned from the best,” Hawk informed him. “Me, your dad, your grandparents.....hell your mom too.” 

Bob shook his head and took one more good, long sip of the hot coffee, letting it run down his throat and warming his insides.

“Don’t worry about Ruby,” Hawk told him. “I’ve been working with horses all my life. I’ve seen even the worst, human and animal alike, turn out ok.” 

“You did?” 

“Oh yes,” Hawk said before he took a drag on his cigarette. “I remember when your father told me that (y/n) had delivered Auggie early. He showed me the pictures of him in his little incubator.....told me about how you had nearly lost him......and how he had bounced right back as though he hadn’t had a thing wrong with him.” 

Bob gave his mentor a grateful smile. “You’re right,” he said. “Maybe even the worst will turn out ok.” 

A loud, frightening noise came from Ruby’s stall, the men hastily setting aside their coffee as Ruby lay right down in the hay, her breaths shallow and her snorts coming in short spurts. “Shit,” Hawk hissed. “You’d better go get your dad. We might need him.” 

Bob nodded and raced right back to the house, hurriedly shutting the door behind him without even bothering to stamp off his snowy boots on the doormat. “Dad?!” he called out.

No answer. 

“Dad?!” 

He found Joe in his room, totally absorbed in a Stephen King novel and the faint smell of a freshly smoked joint hanging in the air. “Dad?” 

“Bobby, what’s hangin?” Joe asked cheerily. 

“You’ve gotta come,” Bob told him. “I think Ruby’s about to drop her foal.” 

Joe looked at the digital clock on the sidetable, the red numbers reading 8:45. “Ok,” he said, setting the book next to it. “Gimme a sec to get my boots.”

Joe hurriedly dug out his boots from under the bed and laced them up as quick as he could, throwing his jacket over his shoulders before following his son to the barn. 

“She on her side?” Joe asked. 

“Laid down about five minutes ago,” Bob answered.

“You wanna take this one?” 

Bob froze a little, his eyes widening slightly. “Um.....I.....sure.” 

“Ok now remember, just like your mom and I taught you,” Joe explained, Don’t panic if it gets stuck, just take your time and work with her.” 

Bob sucked in and let out a deep breath before kneeling in the hay beside Ruby while Joe kept Ruby calm. Oh God, I don’t think I can do this.....he groaned.

It felt like hours, long, drawn out and grueling hours before the foal’s front legs and hooves were showing. “C’mon baby, I know you’ve got it in you,” Bob murmured, his shaky hands covered in blood and a clear, sticky liquid. 

Ruby’s heaving breaths and pained cries startled two of the other horses, her mate in the next stall among them. Bob steadied his breath, trying to concentrate on what he was doing. He stripped off his winter vest and rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt as far as they could go. That’s when he noticed it.....the one thing every rancher feared. 

“Oh no, no, no, no,” he stammered, his voice laced with fear. “No don’t go back in.....for the love of shit don’t go back in!” 

Very carefully, Bob reached his hands in, trying to keep steady even as Ruby jerked and rolled until Joe and Hawk calmed her down. Hawk’s voice soon filled the stables, the quiet hush broken by his singing while Ruby suddenly went calm. He could feel the foal trying to make its way out, his hands grasping underneath the shoulders. 

One last push from Ruby and the foal made his way out, a beautiful little chestnut colt like his parents, covered in the slick, clear slime and smatterings of blood. Bob was caught somewhere between laughing and crying as he cleaned off the colt when to his amazement, the little thing stood right up, shooting to his feet like a bullet and neighing as though he had been born wild. 

“Holy shit,” Hawk murmured. 

Bob was in complete awe, never in his whole life had they ever had a horse like this. 

“I’ve never seen them stand up that quick,” Bob said breathlessly.

It wasn’t long at all before the colt soon came to rest in the hay beside Ruby, his little head resting in Bob’s lap. “You did good kid,” Joe told him. “You did good.” 

Bob thought so too as he scratched the colt behind his ears and kissed his head. 

[garoumylove]

Golden Hour Part 9

Domestic fluff ♥️GarouxReader♥️. Taking care of sick Garou in this part... You can also read it on AO3 here :)

I will myself to wake up. I gather all the fucking mental capacity and energy I have left and will myself to wake up. To push through this half-asleep, half-conscious blackness that I keep drifting in an out of for fuck knows how long.

Somewhere, as if distant and far away, I can feel her pressed against me. I need to wake the fuck up. I need to get closer. I need to feel her closer.

I also feel something soft and purring, like a little motor, next to my head.

Wake the fuck up.

I remember feeling so fuckin’ hot. So unbearably fucking hot.

I’m still feeling way off but at least it’s not a fucking hell sauna anymore.

Wake up, goddamnit.

How many hours has it been?

I feel I’m getting a little closer, can feel more of her weight on me, her head on my chest. I don’t feel her move. I think she’s asleep. Did we sleep together all night like this? Words I never thought would drift through my mind…

I need to open my fuckin’ eyes and see it for myself because right now I don’t believe it. Maybe I’m still fucked up and delirious and this is just some fever dream. In which case, let’s not wake up yet. Let it burn if this is what my mind gives me in dire circumstances. Maybe I should get sick more often if this is how it is.

I feel her stir a bit, get more comfortable on my chest.

No. I think this is real.

Fuck.

Wake up, son of a bitch.

Finally, my mind seems to come back into focus. Suddenly, I can feel everything in real time, the warmth of her body against me, her light, slow breathing as she sleeps, the cat curled up next to my head, this sweat-stained t-shirt. I hear a car drive by outside. The late morning light cutting through the window.

The fever seems to have passed but I feel so fuckin’ worn out even though I’ve done nothing but lie here all night next to her. Everything feels so fuckin’ heavy. I lie completely still. I want to put my arm around this woman lying half on top of me. This woman who stayed all night looking after an insolent asshole like me.

I remember that last thing, when she said ‘I’m here’ before I passed out again.

And she’s still here. I’m surprised she hasn’t had enough of my shit and just up and left. Sometimes, when I come in through her back door, always open for me at any hour, I get this thought. This thought that I’m gonna come in to find this house empty. That one day, I’ll open that door and she won’t be here. But it hasn’t happened yet.

I open that door and she’s always here. Either cooking, or watching tv or reading or if I’m very lucky, I find her on the couch very much waiting for me wearing nothin’ but her heels, very impatiently waiting for me and that is always a fun time. Always. No matter how damn tired or sleep deprived I am, I make sure I show my fucking appreciation.

And she’s here now, letting me rest, sleep against her, never leaving my side.

And I remember thinking ‘Fuck’ as I heard those almost silent tears. I’ve really goddamn fucked up now. So waking up to this feels like a fucking miracle.

I open my eyes. I can’t see her face like this but the sight of her body next to mine is more than enough proof. Her arm wrapped around my chest is more than enough.

She’s wearing this big, thick jumper but suddenly I realise she’s been here like this on top of the covers all night. The heating is on but my arm reflexively goes around her. Fuck. How cold was it last night? I press my arm tighter around her, hoping she didn’t freeze.

The cat notices I’m awake and uncurls, stands up, her purring growing louder and more excited as she starts to knead the pillow next to my head with her paws, pokes at my forehead with her tiny nose.

I give her a warning look, ordering her to stay quiet but she doesn’t give two shits, as usual, starts walking around the bed, all over me.

And of course the commotion wakes her up. Goddamn cat. I was good like this. So fuckin’ good.

I feel her move softly against me, her head turns a bit and for a moment there I feel like she presses herself closer into me. I can feel her hand curl around my t-shirt, as if she needs me here, and it seems like she’s going back to sleep before suddenly lifting herself up, looking beautifully sleepy and dazed and surprised.

That’s it, I think. Heaven is fuckin’ over. Hello real world. I’m about to get my ass handed to me.

She blinks a few times, adjusting to the light, looking around. And then her eyes settle on mine. Here it comes.

“You’re awake,” she whispers with the most relieved biggest smile I have seen. This was not what I was expecting. “How do you feel?” she asks, but before I can answer she starts fussing over me, the questions one after the other.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

No. Just stay here.

“How do you feel?”

Like shit, but I’ll survive.

“Did you sleep ok?”

Better than ever.

“I wasn’t bothering you?”

You could never bother me. Get back here. Get under the covers this time so I can keep you warm.

“Do you still feel hot?”

She puts her hand to my forehead softly but feels that’s not enough and suddenly I feel her lips light against my skin instead, her hand on my cheek.

“You’re still pretty warm,” she says, quickly pulling away, kneeling next to me.

I have no idea what the fuck she just said.

What the fuck just happened?

I know it means nothing. But she can’t keep doing this. She can’t be giving me these moments of her. Because moments are not enough anymore. Barely fucking enough. Barely fucking enough to stay sane.

“I’m going to make you something easy to eat,” she informs me with the most gorgeous smile, running her hand through my hair casually, just like I pet Delilah. “I’ll be back soon.”

“No, you don’t-” I start, try to sit up but she’s way faster than me in this fuckin’ sorry state.

“Can’t hear you,” she says all sing-song and bounces out the door and I can hear her hurrying downstairs and out of the house. Of course. There ain’t nothing that good to eat here.

I sit there, my body adjusting to being upright. Fuck, this is shit.

I sit there and I try to piece all these moments together. That first one, her naked in the lamp light, in the dark blue night, my head in her lap, her hands bandaging me, her fingers raking affectionately through my hair and so many others. I add the warm feel of her lips on my forehead.

It’s like this fuckin’ puzzle. I feel I have all the pieces but they won’t fit together. Won’t turn into something whole, something that makes fucking sense even though I feel like they should. This frustration is startin’ to drive me fucking mad. What the fuck more do I need?

I feel like a starving man invited to a fuckin’ banquet but all I can do is stare. Like if I reach out and take something it will all disappear in a goddamn wisp of smoke.

All that fuckin’ power and all that fuckin’ pride I’ve been collecting. They can’t help me here.

I find myself laughing quietly at the bitter fucking irony.

The cat looks at me, probably wondering if that fever didn’t do a number on my brain.

And I start to wonder too.

I notice I’m gripping the edge of the covers, my fingers aching. No real, no satisfying outlet for my frustrations or desires.

Anyway, she went back home. I doubt she’ll be rushing back here and I need a fucking shower, I think, suddenly feeling less than comfortable in this shirt.

I let the covers go and get up and it takes me a few moments to walk straight but I make it to the bathroom.

And I know that look now. I know what it meant. Know now that I wasn’t the only one fuckin’ drowning when we were together. Though I was probably more honest about it with myself than she was, as surprising as that is. I started drowning a lot earlier than her. And then it seems she jumped in after me and then we were both in trouble. I remember her wearing that look still the first time it happened, the first time when she was finally in my bed, and not because I was fucking sick or needed nursing. That first time, that I still have a hard time believing really happened, I remember the first taste of her mouth, the feel of her hands, her hot skin, the scent of her, warm and intimate. That first time that felt like an eternity in the making. The feverish relief of finally having her… I could forget anything in life, but I ain’t going to forget that until the day I die.

Under this shirt things are looking better. I stare at myself in the mirror, turning but not too much because it still fucking hurts. I’m still black and blue but it’s a much lighter shade. I’ve still got a pretty evident purple stain across one cheekbone but even that is going down nicely and will probably be almost invisible by tomorrow morning.

At least that’s something, I think as I get in the shower.

As I stand under the hot water, I feel somewhat more alert and awake, though still like I’m one step behind reality.

I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a fucking shower so much in my life. And that’s really saying something.

How long do I stand there, spaced the fuck out? Fifteen minutes? Twenty?

Eventually I hear the cat meowing and realise she’s probably getting mighty hungry too.

“Yeah, coming, coming,” I call to her as I turn the water off and shake the water off my hair.

I go to put some clean clothes on but realise I ain’t brought any with me in my fucking stupor and her meowing is just getting louder.

Ah, fuck it. I just wrap the towel around my waist and head out.

She purrs happily as I come out of the bathroom and leads me down the stairs. Fuck, I want a Coke so bad, I think as I follow her, suddenly feeling the thirst in my throat.

I give her her food and she goes at it, completely forgets I exist. That’s the thanks I get, eh? I shake my head as I stare out the kitchen window, savouring the familiar carbonated taste as I look out over this small jungle. Once upon a time, someone kept this little backyard all neat and presentable. Not me. I got better fuckin’ things to do. But it might be nice if-

I hear the rustling sound of a plastic bag and footsteps approaching. Fuck, that was fast! And before I can do anything she’s right there and we’re almost face to face as she comes into the kitchen and catches me wearing almost fuck all, Coke in hand, Delilah still happily face deep in her bowl.

She stops in her tracks and stares at me, mostly in surprise, plastic bag with that familiar box in hand. I stare back.

And suddenly she has this look I’ve never seen before. It’s not surprise. The surprise is there but almost like a mask, superficial. And under that she’s got this look…this colour blooming across her cheeks I’ve never seen before. She looks at me like she wants to say something, do something, something that... Almost like she’s asking a question that I can’t quite understand. And that colour keeps blossoming across her face. Just like her in that window that night, being seen like this doesn’t bother me in the least. We’re all just fucking mammals aren’t we. But this mysterious look she’s got, this gaze, makes me feel particularly animal and I don’t understand why. Without a single touch, I start to feel that tension inside, that tension that will not let me rest, takes over and drives me crazy until it gets some sort of release. This moment, her…She’s like fucking electricity.

And then suddenly her expression changes to one of brief self-consciousness and then to annoyance and her eyes grow wider.

“What are you doing going around half-naked and drinking that cold thing?!” She lets me have it. “Do you want to get even more sick?!”

If it means you’ll get into bed with me then yes. I want to say that but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

“Get upstairs right now and put some clothes on!” she commands dangerously.

“Or else what?” I grin. I can’t help it. Fucking Christ, I can’t help it. Any opportunity I am given to be insolent, I will take it. And I want to tease her. I can’t fuckin’ help it either.

She just narrows her eyes at me. And I fuckin’ love it.

“Are you gonna spank me?” I say, putting the Coke down at least.

“Now,” she says her voice full of feminine authority, ignoring my remark but I see that colour in her cheeks again, as she points towards the stairs and I gotta fuckin’ obey. But that grin ain’t going anywhere. “And put a damn sweatshirt on too,” she adds as I walk past her, using all my control to not stop, to not grab her arms, pull her in, press her against me, slide my hands under her own sweatshirt…To get that release. Hers and mine. And for a moment, no, a fraction of a moment, I feel like she wants me to do just that. But this fever must've messed with my fucking mind. I'm deluding myself. There ain't no way. But this feeling as I pass by her, bodies almost touching...No. I just keep walking, like the proud motherfucker I am. I can be that on the outside at least, even if on the inside I feel I’m losing my fucking mind, trying to figure out how to make it all fit together.

“What am I going to do with you…” she sighs, just under her breath as I get further away.

What indeed darlin’, what indeed?

I ask myself the same question as I throw on the first clean sweatshirt I see.

She’s made me omelet rice and it tastes so fucking good, I think as I sit at the table and we have breakfast, Delilah weaving back and forth between our legs underneath.

“You’re going right back to bed when you’re done,” she says as she finishes her own food.

“Eh?” I frown. “Then why’d I have to get all dressed up?”

“You’re still sick,” she rolls her eyes but I can still see the concern behind her mild frustration. “You may think you’re superhuman, but you’re not, I hate to break it to you.”

“I’d say I’m pretty close,” I say, never backing down from an argument.

“Ah, the blind confidence of youth,” she says, jokingly condescending. “I love how you think you’re invincible.”

“Guilty as charged,” I say. Ain’t I proven I pretty much am?

“I love your unfailing self-assuredness but one day something is going to shatter your illusion,” she says, taking the last bite of her food. “And when it does, I don’t want it to destroy you.”

She looks up at me and there’s this quiet, sobering seriousness in her words.

The higher they climb, the harder they fall, that little voice echoes in my mind. That little voice again that seems to be becoming my constant companion.

“As if anything could destroy me,” I say, less than humbly, breaking the tension.

“Of course,” she finally sighs in agreement as she watches me finish off the breakfast she’s made. “Now get back to bed.”

I stay exactly where I am.

“And what the fuck am I supposed to do there?” I ask. I fucking hate lying around doing nothing. Usually, I feel this constant movement, this constant need for action and sittin’ still is a fucking chore.

“What do you mean? There’s lots of things you can do in bed!” She says.

Oh…don’t I know it. But I don’t reckon she’s talking about any of the sweet things that I’ve got on my mind.

“You can read, you can watch something, you can play games, talk to friends…” she lists off things that I’m sure other people enjoy doing. I just look at her, feel my eyebrow rising. That doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest.

“Does it look like I got any of those things?”

“Just get back into bed!” she says finally. “I’ll go grab you some books and whatever.”

No, that’s not what I meant. Fuck.

She sees the look I’m giving her.

“Now!” There’s that authority again and fuck, fine, I put the plate in the sink and make my way upstairs again.

I lie in bed, on top of the covers, not bothering to get undressed, the cat by my side and I hear the front door open again and her light footsteps up the stairs, and right to my bedroom.

“I thought I told you to get back to bed!” she says, exasperated.

“I am in bed!” I say, sitting up.

“I meant like under the-” her shoulders drop suddenly. “Fine, forget it. Good enough,” she says and puts a new bag on my table.

“Look, I got you something to read,” she says, pulling out book after book, showing the covers to me briefly before piling them up on the table.

I know she’s got that big bookshelf in her spare room but I’ve never looked at it up close. Not that interested to be honest. Not that I hate reading, it just seems somewhat pointless to me.

“I grabbed a couple of classics,” she says, holding them up for me for a second, “and here are some more recent ones. Here’s a non-fiction one. Thought you’d probably like that,” she flashes the book at me, “and…here’s a romance. I think you’ll love this one,” she gives me that cheeky grin, this book with a flowery hazy cover in hand. The kind where the people probably keep getting together and breaking up and then finally get together and cry about it or some shit.

“You know me so well,” I say, looking back up at her.

“I do my best,” she says

You do, darlin’, you really do. And so this is why I still can’t fucking understand why all these goddamn pieces won’t fit together and we are what we are, in some sort of fucking limbo, where I have you but only like this. Where I have you but I don’t.

“Also, here are some magazines,” she says, pulling out a small stack of backdated issues of those magazines you find at the checkout, with the fucked up celebrity photos and headlines about who’s fucking whom and whatever.

“You really do know me,” I say, winking at her.

“No!” she says, realising the vapidity of the cover of the magazine she’s holding. “For the crosswords! They let me take these home from work from reception when they get old enough. I like doing the crosswords!” she explains.

Oh. Never thought of that. Never really done any or been interested in that.

“Or are you a sudoku guy?” she says, flipping through the trash and getting to the back pages with the astrology and the recipes and the crosswords.

Well, I’ve always found numbers easier to deal with. But I can’t say I’ve done any sudoku either.

“Eh,” I shrug.

“You’re impossible,” she says. And haven’t I heard that before. But when she says it, with this teasing tenderness, I don’t even mind. “Well why don’t we do a crossword together, then? Because seriously, it looks like you’re bored out of your skull. Though you might still be bored out of your skull even with the crossword…”

I wasn’t counting on that. I thought she’d just leave all these things here and leave, that she’d have more important things to deal with on her weekend than me. But now I’m getting all her time and attention. And everything makes even less sense.

“Only one way to find out,” I say as that pleasant fucked up pain in my chest shows up again as she climbs onto my bed with me, sitting against the side wall, her legs over mine as I sit against the other wall.

“I don’t know why,” she says as she gets more comfortable, pen in hand, “but I’ve always liked puzzles.”

Sure. Puzzles are fun. When you can figure them out, I think as I watch her as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and folds the magazine over to have a better surface to write on.

I feel her legs on top of mine and suddenly remember that moment from this morning, when she was half awake, grabbing onto me, nuzzling in closer. I close my eyes, reliving that particular moment.

“Are you tired?” her voice brings me back. “Do you want to lie down? Should I move?”

I open my eyes again and look at her. This is a puzzle I’ll never fucking solve and the frustration it causes me…I fucking swear.

“No,” I say, giving her a nod to continue.

And even though she said let’s do it together, she doesn’t need my help at all. She reads out the clues and then fills them in straight away.

“First name of the last tsar,” she says, her eyes scanning the black and white grid. “Nicholas.”

“Zodiac sign represented by a ram. Aries.”

“Flightless bird endemic to New Zealand. Kiwi!”

And she really does look like she’s enjoying herself and despite this unidentifiable pain, despite my tiredness, despite this frustration coursing through my veins, when I see her innocent enjoyment it’s somehow all ok. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything like that in a long time. Besides that ice cream that idiotic evening.

“What the fuck is the point of being a bird if you ain’t even goin’ to fly?” I say as she fills in the four letter word.

“I guess there’s no need if there are no predators,” she says, looking up at me, as if coming out of a trance. “I guess that’s why it’s an endangered species these days with all those introduced animals.”

Fucking evolution. Really fucked over that kiwi, eh? It’s all well and good to be weak when no one’s bothering you, when there are no threats but what are you going to do when everyone starts ganging up on you? When you’re suddenly the target? Are you supposed to just put your hands up and say I surrender? Wave that whtie fuckin’ flag and let them fucking kick you to the ground? No. That ain’t what you do. You get-

“What’s wrong?” I hear her voice.

“What?” I’m confused.

“You’re scowling like,” she says, imitating my anger-ridden face before cracking up and I can’t hold on to the rage either when she laughs like that.

“Nothing,” I say and try to change the topic. “How the fuck do you know all these things?”

“Oh…I am just older and wiser than you,” she says in this mystic voice before giggling and turning back to the magazine. “No. I kid. I just read a lot and know a lot of useless facts.”

Older and wiser. Yeah. That sounds about right.

“Score before volleyball team wins the set,” she reads out and I can see this puzzled, slightly annoyed look on her face now. “The sports ones always get me,” she says, the tip of the pen against her lip as she thinks.

I remember her lips on my skin again. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“Match point,” I say without much reflection.

She writes it in.

“Oh!” she says in delight. “Correct! How did you know?” She asks, turning back to me.

I think for a moment.

“P.E.,” I say.

I remember we used to play it every once in a while, before I got kicked out. And I particularly remember because I was fuckin’ good at it, like I was at everything in PE, and that last game we played… I was fucking carrying that whole game. As usual. We were at match point and I fuckin’ scored. I aimed it right at the inside of the line. I knew it would hit just inside the line, just out of the blockers’ reach. I fuckin’ saw it on the inside and they called foul, out of bounds and it didn’t fuckin’ count and the point went to other side. I remember arguin’, this blind anger taking over, and then being kicked off the court. Fucking memories. Happy days.. It was inside the line. It was just too hard, too fast for them to see. But I saw it. We were at match point. And I got told to calm the hell down and got thrown off the court.

Their fuckin’ loss I guess.

I said goodbye to that place forever soon after.

“I can’t say I ever liked PE much,” she says, her attention on me now, the magazine down in her lap. “I bet that was your favourite subject, huh?” she says.

“Nah,” I say. I mean, I liked it but it wasn’t my favourite. It was a good way to get moving, to let some steam off. More like a period to relax.

“What was your favourite?” She asks. “And don’t say lunch. Because that’s what you said last time. And I’m asking seriously now.”

“So it’s like that, eh?” I tease. “Asking seriously are you?”

She gives my leg a little shove with her foot, as if to say ‘Oh, come on!’

I fold my arms across my chest, think about it for a bit.

“Physics,” I say finally.

“Why physics?” she asks, all her attention still on me.

“Don’t know,” I shrug. “The experiments were fun.”

That ain’t a lie. I remember always likin’ the practical stuff in science. And then when we got to launch that rocket…that was just the icing on the fucking cake. I always preferred numbers to words and calc wasn’t bad either. But maths was more abstract. The numbers were just kind of there, these nebulous equations that just generated more numbers. In physics there was something practical, tangible. Forces, actions, reactions, gravity, energy. And the laws were always the same. Gravity was always gravity. There was no escaping it. Not like all those fucking words that were so abstract, meanings subtle and changing, depending on how they were said, who said them... With physics you felt like you were on solid ground and once you understood the principles, they would always be there.

“Yeah, science was pretty fun,” she agrees. “Even though it’s like a century since I’ve been to high school,” she laughs and goes back to the crossword.

Is that it? That’s it, isn’t it? The missing piece of the puzzle. It’s our age. She always exaggerates hers. Plays it off like it’s this terrible thing but I ain’t ever seen it as such. She tells me the most interesting things, and I always end up learnin’ something new whether I want to or not. And she seems to see right through my bullshit. When I’m with her, I feel somehow grounded and can forget the fuckin’ violent mess in my head for a while. She has this talent for taking me for a total joke when my head gets too fuckin’ big and listening to me with complete seriousness at other times, preventing me from fuckin’ exploding and destroying my life once and for all.

At the time, I resented hearin’ that. No one fucking cared about me. It took me an age to even accept that she did. Anyone trying to get close, to find things out were just bound to use it against me later on. That had been my experience. And I didn’t need anyone caring for me in the first fuckin’ place. I didn’t ‘rise through the ranks’, put myself through all that just to rely on others. I had learned quickly and painfully that that was never goin’ to be an option for me. I was proud to need no one. It was fucking childish. And I can’t say I really let myself rely on anyone still or let my guard down too much, but with her at least, I got it through my fucked up head, once and for all, that not everyone was trying to screw me over. Little by little, with her, I saw the world differently, even if it felt strange and unfamiliar. She was there, and I could trust her, at least. Finally, it felt like there was someone. Someone who hadn’t given up at the first sign of my trouble.

I must’ve dozed off because suddenly I open my eyes and it’s full on afternoon, the rich light pouring through the window.

I find her sitting where she was before, against the wall, legs on mine, pen in hand.

She gives me an easy smile as I come to.

“Good nap?” she says.

“Hmm,” I turn my head this way and the other, stretching my neck. Sittin’ like this wasn’t the most comfortable position to fall asleep in.

“I picked up all the towels,” she says, pointing her pen to the floor where all those towels she’d used on me the night before had piled up.

My bloody t-shirt was there too and now I can’t see a trace of it. But she doesn’t say a word about it. She knows it was there. I know it was there. But it stays silent like a huge fucking elephant in the room.

“I put all that stuff in the wash,” she says as we avoid the t-shirt specifically.

“You didn’t have-”

“And I cleaned the breakfast dishes. Are you hungry?”

I’m always fucking hungry.

“Of course you are,” she says before I can answer. “I’ll go buy something for lunch. Anything in particular you want?”

“You don’t have-” I start again, with more intent this time.

“Are you going to tell me what you want or do you want me to choose?” she will hear none of it.

“Fine, you choose,” I concede, feeling too tired to argue for once.

She slips off my bed and I watch her go, again. But she pauses and turns in the doorway.

“Oh, your former teacher stopped by,” she says, her voice uncertain, sensing this might be something I may not like.

“Fucking old man,” I hear myself mutter.

“He seemed very concerned. I told him you were sick yesterday but that you were doing a lot better.”

Heh. I wonder what the old bastard thought of that, a woman like that openin’ the door for him in the middle of the day. What did he make of that…

“He’s always fuckin’ concerned,” I growl, unable to keep the distaste out of my voice.

“He said he’d come back another time,” she says.

“He always fuckin’ does,” my eyes roll of their own accord.

“I think he just cares about you,” she gives me a sympathetic smile and heads off.

She comes back with bowls of hot ramen from the place around the corner and up the street and it feels so good goin’ down. I feel somewhat less tired, and this helps, but I ain’t a hundred per cent yet and I’m growing fuckin’ impatient. I’m not used to bein’ down for the count like this. It makes me agitated.

I’m just getting another Coke out of the fridge when there’s a knock on the door and I know straight away.

“It’s the kid,” I say as she takes the can from me and puts it right back in the fridge, closing it shut in my face. “Make some tea. I’ll get it.”

I can hear her opening the door, Tareo’s polite greeting.

“Is Uncle home?” he asks excitedly. He is completely oblivious to any implication her being here might have. He probably thinks she’s just here to see Delilah like he is.

“He is,” I hear her say, “but he’s a bit sick.”

“Is he ok?” Tareo asks, his voice filling with worry.

“Yes, he’s fine! But he’s got a nasty cold and he wouldn’t want you catching it,” she says kindly.

And this is a lie. And I know she’s not the kind of person to lie. And I know she’s not doing it for my sake. She’s doing it for his. Because half my face is still this very pretty violet colour, she’d probably call it lavender, and I realise she doesn’t want Tareo seeing me in that state. Doesn’t want him to be scared or worried. Doesn’t want me as a bad influence.

And I don’t disagree with her.

I’m a fucking disgrace.

And for the first time, I’m not proud of it.

And I feel like the idea of ever solving this puzzle that is us slips even further from my reach.

[silent-mysteriousguy]

Ah, the funny tales of my geography class. Currently topic is *water* so we watched an episode of Als De Dijken Breken (if the dams break), a very dramatic imagining of what would happen if every single dam broke. Safe to say, I am living in fear of god now because ahum REMEMBER ALL THE RESEARCH ON FLOODS I HAVE BEEN DOING FOR ATTM-

[sentakushimasu]

if i can't taste your lips just let me taste blood

pairing: bakugou katsuki/kirishima eijirou summary: work studies are meant to be educational, not fatal, but bakugou and kirishima are trapped with a growing puddle of blood and no way to get out genre: hurt/comfort, whump word count: 2.6k warnings: blood, hospitals, bakugou trying to articulate emotions title from: we are the dirt - it's never enough AO3

When Kirishima came to it was with a lot of confusion and pain. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain emanating from his abdomen that blurred and subdued his other senses. The second thing he noticed was that it was really dark.

Dark to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was opening his eyes at all, unable to figure out where the hell he was or how he got there.

The pain, however, was very clearly not a fixture of his foggy and disoriented brain. It kept getting worse, the burning sensation reaching all the way down to his feet. In the haze of pain he couldn’t pinpoint any actual injury, only able to tell that there was something really heavy pressing down on his midsection.

The whine he let out was involuntary, but if he was alone he was going to make as many pathetic noises as he wanted.

Only, he wasn’t alone.

“Kirishima? Kirishima, are you awake?”

That was Bakugou’s voice, but Bakugou never called him by his name, and especially not with the worry that currently saturated his tone.

Kirishima grumbled and tried to push the weight off him. It was so heavy, borderline crushing him but he couldn’t get it to move. What he assumed were Bakugou’s hands swatted his away from whatever was pinning him down.

“Fucking hell, would you stop that?”

Kirishima squirmed again, trying desperately to get even a little bit of the weight off him. “There’s something on top of me-”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re bleeding.”

“Hmm? Sorry,” Kirishima floundered until his fingers connected with Bakugou’s wrist, looping around the limb. “You can stop, I’m alright.”

“What the fuck? No. You’re fucking bleeding everywhere.”

Bakugou’s face came slightly more into focus as Kirishima’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He kept looking between Kirishima’s abdomen and his face. He looked worried, and if Kirishima didn’t value his life he would dare say that Bakugou was scared. He was still in his hero gear, the stupid theatric spikes framing his head, a distinct trail of blood marring his features as it trailed down his face from his hairline.

“Are you hurt?” Kirishima couldn’t help but ask.

“What? No.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kirishima supplied helpfully.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes and turned back to the wound, applying more pressure. “Not as much as you.”

Swallowing the whine in the back of his throat, Kirishima decided to actually start a conversation with his friend. He had no idea how long they would be there and he wasn’t into spending that uncertain length of time in tense silence with Bakugou. “What happened?”

“Work study. Big villain attack so Endeavour sent us out as backup. One of ‘em cornered you in here so I came to tell ‘em to fuck off but you were on the ground and when I exploded the asshole, the fucking ceiling caved in.”

“At least I’m not stuck in here by myself, hmm? That would be unfortunate.”

It was supposed to have been a joke, something to lighten the mood between them but Bakugou’s expression remained firm as he offered no reply.

“How bad is it?”

Bakugou paused, the silence hanging heavily between them. “It’s fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

Kirishima just hummed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Dark spots peppered his vision and he was beginning to realise how tired he felt. He knew Bakugou was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m not fucking lying, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s okay, Bakugou. Can I just ask you to do something before I die?”

“You’re not going to die, you asshole. Fat Gum is going to come for you, you know he’d never leave you here.”

The exhaustion was creeping in with the tingling sensation in his arms and legs. He was so cold. He had half a mind to ask Bakugou to set off some explosions and hopefully warm the air. But they were trapped with potentially limited oxygen and Bakugou was too smart to ever risk that. “Is he going to be fast enough? You said there was a villain, he’s probably too busy.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, his expression and tone immediately softening as the harshness registered. “You’re not dying today. Or tomorrow. Or any day that I’m alive to see. I won't let you.”

Kirishima closed his eyes, letting himself imagine what it would be like to die with Bakugou by his side. A cruel part of his chest tightened as he imagined asking Bakugou to hold him before he passed out.

The taste of blissful unconsciousness lay heavy on the back of his tongue as he spoke. “Will you stay? I don’t wanna go alone.”

“You’re not going fucking anywhere, and I’m not gonna leave you.”

“I think I’m dying, Katsu.”

Kirishima could see the way Bakugou flinched at the use of the nickname. He would have apologised for being so informal but he was tired and he didn’t have the energy to be sorry for trying to feel close to Bakugou in his last moments.

Perhaps the reaction had been to the idea of Kirishima dying, but that seemed less likely. Bakugou was persistent in reminding everyone that he didn’t care about anything or anyone other than becoming number one. Kirishima had always admired his determination but right now he just wanted to pretend that Bakugou cared about him.

Falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki was probably the dumbest decision of Kirishima’s life but he would never live to regret it. Not while Bakugou stayed with him, trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound that was likely severe enough to render Bakugou’s efforts useless.

The older boy didn’t look at him. “You’re just delirious from the blood loss, you’ll be okay.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re fucking bleeding out!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima mumbled with the limited energy he had left, “but why is it suddenly a big deal? You've said repeatedly that you don’t care about anyone else.”

“I lied,” Bakugou hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched with such force that Kirishima was worried the bone would shatter under the pressure.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Well that made no sense.“Why would you lie?”

“Because I love you, goddamnit! So you’re going to stay awake and we’re going to get out of this and go on a date or some shit, but we can only do that if you stay awake, okay?”

Oh. Kirishima tried to speak, but his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. The fog was pressing in on him much harder now.

Bakugou’s voice was muffled by the fog as he spoke again. “Fucking say something. I just confessed my feelings for you, you don’t get to fucking ignore me now.”

Kirishima was aware that he should be worried by the way it was taking more and more of his energy to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t find the strength to care about anything other than the fact that Bakugou just said he loves him.

“Kirishima?”

“No- No, fuck, no, Kirishima you have to keep your eyes open!” Kirishima hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut, but he couldn’t seem to open them again, despite how much he wanted to stare into Bakugou’s red eyes forever.

Kirishima could feel something tapping on his cheek, shaking his shoulder. Bakugou’s voice was so broken and raw when he spoke his plea. “Kiri, please.”

That’s weird, Bakugou never says please.

As the last shreds of consciousness left him, Kirishima swore he could hear muffled yelling somewhere close to his head, he couldn’t make out the words.

But it didn’t hurt anymore.

-

Kirishima didn’t expect to wake up.

It was as simple as that.

He had been bleeding badly enough that Bakugou hadn’t even let him look, and had seemed genuinely worried and afraid for his friend’s wellbeing. So at that point, waking up was a feat on its own.

Waking up without being in excruciating pain was something else entirely. He just felt floaty and not real. But he definitely wasn’t dead because he was uncomfortable and the lights behind his close eyelids were way too bright.

“I would try to send you back to the dorms but I know you won’t listen to me even if I erase your quirk and drag you kicking and screaming out of here,” Aizawa’s gruff voice said from a place Kirishima couldn’t pinpoint. There was a lot of aural input that just dissolved into directionless static.

“I’m not leaving him.”

That was Bakugou’s voice, with its hard edge and underlying fire. It cut through the haze of Kirishima’s lingering unconsciousness, it didn’t have the same fuzzy edge to the syllables that Aizawa’s voice had.

Aizawa must have clicked his tongue before speaking again in his monotonous drawl. “You need to rest too. That concussion isn’t going to go away on its own.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou bit back.

“Then, pray tell, what matters more than your health?”

“He does.”

He wanted to fight against the stupor, to reach out and smack Bakugou upside the head. His friend was concussed, and chose not to rest, in favour of keeping a bedside vigil. At this point, it was the only thing that was convincing Kirishima that he didn’t hallucinate what Bakugou said before he passed out.

Not that it made much sense.

“Kirishima would want you to take care of yourself.” Kirishima is going to shake Aizawa’s hand the second he can muster up the energy to do so.

“Kirishima also wanted to die of blood loss and traumatise me instead of just staying awake, so I’m not going to listen to what that asshole wants.”

“You know as well as I do that the doctor said he probably won’t be coherent until tomorrow morning even if he does wake up tonight. I can drive you back to the dorm and pick you up before visiting hours.”

Kirishima could practically hear Bakugou shaking his head. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

“He won’t be alone. Fat Gum and I will be here all night.”

Bakugou’s next words were haunted, hollowed out to fit an emotion Kirishima had never heard from the older boy. “He asked me to stay with him.”

“And you did, you saved his life,” a third voice added. Kirishima was cognizant enough to be able to recognise it as being his mentor.

“Go to bed, Bakugou,” Kirishima mumbled, scrunching his eyes up tightly as consciousness fully came back to him. He wished someone would turn the light off.

“Kirishima?” There was too much noise in that moment for Kirishima to figure out who had spoken, but he suspected that all of them had something to say about his return to wakefulness.

He tried to lift his hand, hoping to cover his eyes from the bright lights of what was undoubtedly a hospital room, only to find it pinned in place.

Opening his eyes to the onslaught of light revealed that his hand was being firmly held in Bakugou’s. Okay, forget his previous claims, he was definitely dead. Or, at the very least, having the best dream of his life.

Kirishima groaned. “You guys are loud.”

“Sorry, kid,” Aizawa said in his usual grumble. His chair was the furthest away from Kirishima, sitting all the way in the corner of the room. He looked the same amount of disheveled as he usually did but his posture held a weird tension that Kirishima wasn’t sure he had ever seen before.

“How are you feeling?” Fat Gum asked, he was out of his hero suit which, to Kirishima, looked very odd.

“Pretty okay, all things considered,” Kirishima said, directing his gaze towards his friend.

Bakugou was the most noticeably different. His hair was scruffy and matted with blood, a stark white rectangle of gauze taped to his forehead, a few little strips holding a cut on his eyebrow together. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t let go of Kirishima’s hand either.

Feeling particularly spontaneous, probably due to the bucket full of pain meds that were undoubtedly currently in his system, Kirishima gave Bakugou’s hand an experimental squeeze.

Bakugou stiffened but the tension quickly left his body as he squeezed back, turning to meet Kirishima’s eyes and give him a soft smile.

Their exchange was silent but they said all they needed to.

I heard you.

I love you too.

Kirishima tried to adjust himself, to get a better look at Bakugou’s injuries. Only to promptly collapse back onto the hospital bed as pain blasted through all of his senses.

“Idiot,” Bakugou hissed.

“Take it easy,” Fat Gum said, “you were in surgery for a long time, you don’t need to be pushing yourself.”

Still trying to breathe through the pain, Kirishima opened one eye to look at the pro hero.

“Surgery?” he managed to grit out from between his clenched teeth.

Fat Gum’s eyes softened as he looked at his mentee. “We found you both not long after you lost consciousness, but you were in rough shape. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while.”

Kirishima groaned. “That sounds boring.”

“Not as boring as an extended recovery period because you refused to take care of yourself,” Aizawa chided.

“True,” Kirishima said. “What time is it?”

Fat Gum was the one to speak this time. Bakugou stayed remarkably silent. “A little past midnight, you spent six hours in surgery and we’ve been waiting for you to wake up for about two hours now.”

“And Bakugou isn’t in bed?”

“Nope. We tried but he won’t budge. Better to let it happen at this point.”

Kirishima rolled his head to the other side, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou and the older boy’s stony expression. “Go to sleep.”

Bakugou met his gaze with his usual stubborn fire. “You first.”

“If you stay, will you sleep?”

Bakugou nodded.

“Aizawa-sensei, can he stay?”

Kirishima had expected Aizawa to argue, but he was just met with a soft “okay”.

Whether it was the cocktail of medication or the trauma his body had suffered, tiredness hit Kirishima like a wave. As his blinking slowed down, he swore he saw a soft smile grace Bakugou’s lips before his other hand reached up to brush Kirishima’s hair out of his face.

“Goodnight, Kirishima.”

Kirishima just hummed, too tired to speak.

-

Kirishima woke up the next morning with Bakugou wrapped around his arm that was free of tubes and wires, snoring softly.

Carefully picking up his other hand and ignoring the presence of the IV in the crook of his elbow, he began to thread his fingers through Bakugou’s messy hair. The older boy didn’t stir, a true testament to how exhausted he really was, especially considering on any other day Kirishima could breathe sideways and Bakugou would all but leap to his feet.

Instead, Bakugou’s hold just tightened slightly as he mumbled something in his sleep.

A quick glance around the room told Kirishima that Aizawa was asleep in his chair in the corner, his face buried in his capture scarf, surprisingly sans his usual yellow sleeping bag. Fat Gum was nowhere to be seen but judging by the empty chair with a blanket on the seat and jacket draped over the back, he couldn’t be far away.

There was a weird bliss to the quiet atmosphere of the hospital room. The soft morning light filtered in through the window as opposed to the harsh lights of the night before.

The pain meds took away from the discomfort of being in a hospital, and with Bakugou clinging to him like he was the most important thing in the world was something Kirishima could easily be convinced was a dream, a fantasy conjured by his unconscious mind.

He could get used to this.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Cliche Mini-Series: Patronus

Draco X Reader

Requested: @shadowsingeraxolotl​ Okay, so they're all in 8th year or something and everyone are practicing their patronusus and they match and everyone is in awe because they are the most powerful ones they've ever seen? Like an alternate soulmark but better because they realize that Draco is so soft

A/N: Y’all sure do have a lot of cliches you want to see, so here’s the first one that sparked my interest. It will not be the last I promise, but please enjoy these two kids falling in love and healing after the war. 

Okay so it’s 8th year

Everyone is a little tense, and the castle looks new but everything just feels wrong

McGonagall created an entire new wing for the 8th years so that they could get away from the haunting that the war left in the old castle

And the House Cup was done away with and first years were allowed to pick houses and others were allow to declare house-less or switched as they saw fit fight me on this I dare you

Which meant that the few 8th years who decided to come back all declared to be house-less because f*ck destiny and who they were supposed to be. They just wanted to be kids goddamnit

That doesn’t mean that you’re not a little surprised when Draco declares house-less. You thought he’d want to stay Slytherin

You catch his eyes and there’s no light in them and your heart just hurts

War was hell, and being trapped on the wrong side had to be the depths of Tartarus

McGonagall keeps a dozen Mind Healers on staff this year, for obvious reasons

Which is where you run into Draco often. You’re craving a therapy session and he has to—court mandated.

You wave and he gives you a curt nod. He’s in most of your classes now that you were both house-less so you’re peers, maybe acquaintances

True to Harry’s nature, he’s suspicious of Malfoy at all times, and well maybe you pick up a few habits of looking after Draco as well—but in a different manor

You make sure he eats, and gets to class, and stays awake in class for that matter, then you make sure he gets to bed. All by gentle questions or offering to go with him to meals or class etc (“hey, I haven’t eaten dinner, wanna come with?” “You have Flitwick with me... wanna walk together?” “It’s late, I’m sure the book will be there in the morning,” “I made too much tea, do you want some?”)

He notes your kindness but only mentions it to his Mind Healer. He’s confused as to why you’re being kind and doesn’t know if he likes it or not (he’s also a bit better with his emotions since he’s in therapy) y’all get therapy it’s amazing

“Well, you could ask her about it,” the Healer suggests. Except he didn’t understand how much Draco could not do that because he wasn’t confrontational anymore

Instead he decides to extend the same kindness to you. As an olive branch. You spill ink all over your paper in shock when he asks you to dinner. He quickly vanishes the ink with a flick of his hand

Now you two sort of get dinner together. Like all the time. It’s just something that normal and routine. You talk about your days, your classes, and Draco feels... normal. Like you’re not gawking at him, not afriad of him, you don’t hate him, and he’s pretty sure this isn’t some sort of ploy

fuck canon. Remus Lupin isn’t dead and neither is Sirius. I am the queen of this blog and my word is law.

Remus teaches DADA because he loves teaching and now that the job isn’t jinxed and McGonagall knows he needs a break from 24/7 Sirius to maintain his sanity, he teaches

And of course he adores his 8th years

He teaches a wide range of defense spells, but to pass his class with full marks all you have to do is summon a patronus. Corporeal or not.

Draco, though still quite flawless in about everything else, struggles with casting a patronus. A lot of 8th years do as well, so he’s not singled out, even if he is a bit frustrated

Remus understands that after a war this is hard for his kids, so he allows them to take a day and go to the lake instead of class for fun in the sun and to make new and safer memories

“Aren’t you coming?” You ask Draco who’s sitting alone in the common room sulking. “No,” he mutters. “Why not? Lupin is taking attendance, you have to come,”

“No, I don’t.” He snaps.

He really doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to swim. He doesn’t want to take his shirt off or wear short sleeves. He doesn’t want to be gawked at because of his Mark or his numerous scars. He’d rather save himself the panic attack.

“Come with me?” You try weakly. “You don’t have to swim. I’m not going to, but maybe just sit out there? We can read? Or talk? Or something?” You know it’s a lost cause. You sigh. “We’ll miss you Draco—I’ll miss you,” you offer a small smile and head down to the lake downcast.

And maybe Draco misses you with each step that you walk away from him. Maybe it’s so unbearable that he curses himself and you before stalking down the the lakeside beach.

Meanwhile you’re perched under a tree reading a book. “Couldn’t get him to come down huh?” Lupin asks. “Sorry Professor,” you give a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it. I know it’s gonna take Draco a bit longer to get on his feet again. In fact I’d be surprised if—” Lupin stops mid sentence.

“Professor?” You ask. “Well I’ll be a mandrakes uncle,” Lupin grins, nodding to someone in the distance. You turn and see a familiar head of white blond hair heading towards you.

Ignoring Lupin completely you jump up and run over to Draco, pulling him into a hug, before remembering yourself as you take a step away awkwardly.

“I’m glad you came,” you stammer. “Me too,” his cheeks are flushed slightly pink as you two sit under the tree together.

True to your word, you two do read. He reads some sort of wizard classic literature and you read a muggle classic: Pride and Prejudice because you need a break from magic and spells

Draco asks you about your book and you explain a bit of it to him, saying that he would probably enjoy it, despite its muggle origins. He eyes the book and you skeptically but asks if he can borrow it when you’re finished with it

You two are mostly left alone for the afternoon, except always under the watchful eye of Harry who is still convinced that Malfoy is up to something

Your patronus charm is now incorporeal. You jump excitedly and the charm falls. Draco, who’s next to you, is quite surprised by the hug he gets tackled with by a very elated you.

Which leads to more awkward blushing and apologies.

“So you and Malfoy?” Harry asks one night while you’re alone. “I... I don’t like it.” “Oh come on Harry, don’t you think if he was going to do something he would have? He’s just trying to move on like the rest of us,” your voice is venemous and cold as you glare the golden boy down.

Draco sees you and Harry talking alone at night and gets the wrong idea before rushing away not understanding why that hurt so badly. He feels betrayed. You were the one person he thought was on his side and now you were skirting around with Potter.

You notice immediately that Draco has closed himself off to you and you worry. “Is everything okay?” “Ask Potter,” Draco snaps. “You seemed pretty cozy with him the other night.”

Then it hits you. “We’re you spying on me?” The thought is quickly dismissed. “Draco, Harry came up to me bitching about you. And I told him to drop it and leave you alone because you deserve your place here like the rest of us,”

Well you hadn’t said exactly that, there was a bit more swearing involved but the sentiment was there

“You... you defended me,” he’s in disbelief. “Yes,” you groan. “Now will you stop sulking and come and get dinner with me?”

“I’ve already eaten,” he mutters. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Draco,” you press. “Please,”

“I’ll never understand how you can tell when I’m lying,” he grumbles, standing. “You don’t look me in the eye,” you laugh, walking towards the great hall.

The trips to the lake become a Friday thing for 8th years and Remus. To give the kids a break and to let them blow off a little steam.

You know Draco isn’t comfortable going again and you don’t want to either so, you talk to Lupin and work out a deal.

“Are you coming?” You ask him, dressed in your old quidditch robes. “You’re going to the lake in that?” He asks skeptically. “And no I’m not going,”

“I’m not going to the lake,” you smile, perching on the back of a couch. “So, are you coming?”

“Where are you going?” He asks. “Oh come on you’re a smart bloke, put two and two together.” You laugh and take off down the hall towards the quidditch pitch.

You’ve done a few laps when Draco joins you in the air. “This is stupid,” he declares. “Yeah,” you smile. “But it’s fun!”

Draco sighs and his resolve fades and soon he’s smiling and chasing after you in a one on one game of catch-the-snitch

And honestly it is fun. Draco’s laughing and flying with you and he almost forgets that he’s supposed to be Seeking.

And when you fly closer to him, staring into his eyes, beaming, he does everything he can to remember to keep flying. You’re inches from him. You reach out and his heart is stammering.

Then you grab something next to his head and laugh victoriously showing him the snitch.

“Oh come on that was cheating!” He whines, chasing after you towards the field floor.

“It’s not my fault you were staring at me like I was Potter!” You call back. “Although I hope you don’t hate me,” you land softly on the grass and Draco is caught off guard by your words and why would he ever hate you and he crashes into you

“Draco!” You scold, and he thinks he’s hurt you and that you’re crying but no you’re laughing hysterically beside him

“I—are you okay?” He stammers, gaping at you. “I’m fine,” you laugh sitting up. Until you put pressure on your wrist and well maybe then you’re not fine

Draco feels awful and takes you to the infirmary, letting Pomfrey heal your broken wrist. All the while the roles are reversed and you have to convince him to calm down and that you’ll be okay man that boy is a mess

“B-but I hurt you!” He exclaims. “It was an accident Draco!” You fold your arms. “I’m not mad, please don’t be mad at yourself,” your voice softens as you take his hands. “Please?”

His eyes catch yours and he nods and you smile at him.

Since this is an every week thing, you and Draco have a rivalry going on of who’s won more matches. (The smack talk and banter is real, but all in good fun. It leaves you both laughing and smiling and onlookers completely confused because “uh, he just called you slower than a spider in roller skates” “Yeah, and he knows that it’s still faster than his blond arse” “My arse has nothing to do with it” “Oh I beg to differ,”)

Winter turns to Spring and now showers are 100% necessary for you Friday afternoons after you matches with Draco. 

You pause in the locker rooms after one match and notice that Draco has shed his robes and is now shirtless before you, his back turned. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the scars that paint a gruesome image on his skin.

You don’t think he knows you’re there but his tired voice barely speaks: “I know you’re staring. It-It’s okay. I’ve... I’ve come to terms with it myself. And I think I’ve come to terms with you knowing as well.” 

He turns to face you, a mask of calm on his face, his eyes holding yours. 

“Harry did this?” You breathe out, taking a step toward him, your hand coming up and hesitantly tracing a scar that bends around his shoulder. 

“Harry, my father, my aunt... you stop keeping track after a while,” His eyes are downcast letting you know that he knows exactly what scar is from whom. 

Your hand trails down and brushes over his Dark Mark. He flinches, but his eyes don’t leave yours. 

“Thank you,” You whisper. “For showing me... for trusting me enough.”

Draco’s patronus is now incorporeal. 

You cheer and he wraps you into a hug this time and you’re shocked for a moment before hugging him back

You’re currently tied on your catch-the-snitch matches and today marks the tie breaker and the winner it’s just too hot to keep doing it during class time in the afternoon.

“D-Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me, tomorrow?” Draco stammers one Friday afternoon. “Sure,” You smile, “A bunch of our friends are going, were you planning on not going?” 

Draco purses his lips because of course you’re going to make this hard for him. 

“I meant with me. Just me. As a... date?” He’s flushed bright pink and it has nothing to do with the heat. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” You grin and zoom off after the snitch and he’s left chasing you wondering and asking what the hell you meant by that.

He ends up catching the snitch and is completely distracted from his victory because what did you mean you thought he’d never ask????

“Draco, stars above you’re so dense,” you dismay and grab the front of his robes and pull him over and press your lips to his

It causes him to let the snitch go and pull you closer. And maybe the two of you spend the afternoon kissing thousands of feet above the ground.

You two enter the Common Room, hand in hand and a cheer is let up as well as bet money being exchanged. Draco is flushed pink, and so are you, but you just smile and roll your eyes back Hogwarts is starting to feel like home again

And oh he absolutely spoils you at Hogsmeade the next day. And you have to admit, as much as you like gifts, it’s so much more to see him happy about buying them for you.

Harry is sulking about the entire thing, and now has been jeering at you and Draco and most times Draco stops you from punching the golden boy in the face. 

“I did it to him for years,” Draco murmurs. “Doesn’t make it right,” You hiss back, glaring at Harry. 

A few others take the same idea as Harry and start to taunt Draco about his long sleeves in the warm weather. Draco never rises to the bait but you can see that it wears at him. You just hold his hand a little tighter and maybe send a few wandless, nonverbal hexes their way,

It draws the line one day when Harry with a few other 8th years stop you and Draco in the halls. Draco, you can tell is close to having a panic attack because it’s not the first one of his that you’ve witnessed and you just go off

“What is wrong with you!?” You scream at Harry. “At least he’s trying to get better! At least he’s changed! You might have saved the world but you’re nothing but a bully!” There are tears in your eyes as Draco places his hands at your waist, steadying you and himself. “And maybe he would wear a t-shirt if you hadn’t tried to kill him a few years ago with Dark Magic that left its mark all over him! Did you ever think of that!?” 

Harry is gaping at you, shocked. Draco pulls you down the hall and it’s not far before he’s breaking down into a panic attack in your arms. You stroke his hair as you let him cry out all his tears, then you walk him through breathing exercises and five-things-five-senses (Grounding)

After this Harry backs the fluff off (and eventually apologizes and goes to Mind Healing himself because you were right, he needed to get better too.) 

You and Draco become more comfortable around another and in public. Which leads to cuddling in the common room or kissing in the halls And no one can deny that you and Draco are just sweet and perfect together

Out of the blue but not really because Harry had a hand in it Lupin talks privately to Draco about his scars and they sort of have a therapy session themselves. Sirius talks to you and gives you advice about how to help Draco through overcoming his fears and self doubt about his scars and now you two have sort of been adopted by these two dads)

It’s the last day of DADA and Lupin makes all of his 8th years cast a patronus and you and Draco do it together and everyone stares in complete and utter awe at the two dragons coiling around each other filling up almost the entire room

You and Draco are in shock too, but soon, smug smiles fall on both of your faces because, yeah... those are two souls sworn and bound to protect another. Two fighters. Two dragons.

You also tease Draco about his name and the dragon for the rest of his life which always ends with him growing frustrated and kissing you to shut you up and then the both of you get a little carried away... but it’s fine. The castle is enormous and there are plenty of empty classrooms

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise  @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypotter-blog @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread  @okaydraco @the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo​ @wollymalfoy​ @lilpieceoftoast​  @paper-cats​ @floweryjh​ @sdicapriox​ @slothgirl22​ @peachesandpinks​ ​ @hufflautia​ @livize75​ @annie-mcl​ @riathearora​ @live-like-luna​ @justathoughtfulangel​ @coconutdawn​ @skteaiy​ @wannabeskinny-thinspo​ @naughtygranger​ @queenofmankind​ @dragonsandbread​ @abundantxadorations​ @moony-artnstuff​ @myforeveryoungblog​ @and-then-a-girl-with-luv​ @1-800-luvsick​ @pandas-rice-field​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @jjustsomerandomgirl​ @mrvlfangirl3190​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @emmaa-t​ @introvertedrae​ @infinity1o1​ @stoleurmomsvan​ @echpr​ @sunkissed-hufflepuff​ @dekulover​ @marshmallowtraver​ @cereuselle​ @lonely-skywalker​ @xlosttdreamss​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @hoeforthefictional​ @coldlilheart​ @helen-paris​ @romance-geek​ @rosie-starlit-sky​ @californiaa-babyy​ @vulture-withafile​ @hogstupefy​

[willowbird]

for the prompt thing andreil, 16(Au with vampire! Neil), Trope 4, dialogue 15 + if possible 39

Anonymous asked:

Vampire! Neil Au requester I meant 25 and not 15

Supernatural AU with a Vampire Neil, meet messy, “i know this looks bad, but i swear, it’s not" & “you confuse me.”

I'm not sure if this was what you were hoping for when you send me these prompts, but I rather had fun writing it so I hope you enjoy, Anon!

----

If Andrew was being completely honest, he really didn't mind his job. Sure, it wasn't all that impressive, but it also wasn't like he had someone around that he wanted to impress. It was easy, too, and no one bothered him. Well, no one bothered him because he had third shift, and the only people grocery shopping at three-am were literal vampires; and in a tiny town like Palmetto, there were really only a handful of those, none of which would ever have any reason to bother the short, scowly human stocking shelves over in the candy aisle.

Which was exactly what Andrew was doing when he heard the crash over in the refrigerated section.

Shifting the headphones off one ear, Andrew tilted his head and listened. There were a few more minor crashes, then a bumbling, scrabbling sound of things being kicked and jostled around. No screaming, though, so Andrew reaffixed the cup over his ear and got back to what he was doing.

"Cleanup by the refrigerators. Cleanup by the refrigerators."

Andrew lips moved soundlessly to Fall Out Boy, willfully ignoring the fact that refrigerators was in his section of the store and thus his responsibility should there be a call made to it.

"Cleanup by the refrigerators. Cleanup by the refrigerators."

Andrew juggled three snickers bars to the beat, tossing them onto the shelf just as the guitar solo started.

"Cleanup by the refrigerators. Cleanup -- Goddamnit Minyard get your ass over to refrigerators and clean the mess up."

Welp, he tried. With a heavy sigh, Andrew dropped the candy in his hands back into the box he'd been unloading, then gave two middle-fingers to the nearest camera.

The gruff voice over the intercom said, "Don't be a cheeky bastard, you little ingrate. Just do your damn job."

"Yeah, yeah," Andrew muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as he turned to head down the aisle. From all those crashes it was sure to be an epic mess. Maybe he wasn't as okay with this job as he thought he was.

Whatever Andrew thought he was expecting to see when he rounded the corner, it was not what he actually saw.

Because there, sitting in the middle of fallen displays and drenched in both blood and pink lemonade with an unconscious (dead?) human sprawled across his lap, was an annoyingly pretty disaster of a vampire.

Andrew stared at the tableau for a long moment, the tugged his headphones down around his neck and moved forward, surveying more of the damage as he got closer. Two of the displays near the fridges had been completely toppled, sending s'mores supplies and snack cakes as far out as lunchmeat on one side and paper goods on the other. There wasn't as much liquid on the floor as Andrew suspected there might be, the blood confined only to the vampire's actual person and only a small pool of pink lemonade leaking out of the nearest container. Upon closer inspection, the human appeared mostly unharmed and definitely alive, as he was breathing. He didn't have a drop of blood on him.

The vampire flashed fang as he gave a weak sort of smile. "I know this looks bad, but I swear, it's not."

"Uh-huh. Right." Andrew crouched down and picked up the carton of pink lemonade. It wasn't even opened properly. There were punctures in the side exactly the right size and distance to have been caused by pretty-vamp's fangs.

Andrew turned the carton to show the leaky punctures to the guilty vampire.

"I was thirsty?"

"Mm. What about the snack draped over your lap?" Andrew gestured at the guy, who was, admittedly, definitely a snack. He was significantly bigger than either himself or the vampire, with black hair and a small tattoo of a chess piece on the crest of one cheek.

The vampire did not seem to share Andrew's opinion. His pretty face screwed up in distaste, those damn-near cerulean eyes flashing with ire. "Ugh. No way. I only drink from Kevin when I'm on my deathbed."

"Is that your way of telling me that he's your boyfriend and you nip him every night, then?"

"What? No?" The blatant confusion on the vampires face had Andrew sighing. The vampire shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry about the lemonade. I was going to pay for it, but it couldn't wait." The skepticism must have been visible enough on Andrew's face for even this idiot to be able to read it because the vampire sighed and continued after just a short judgmental pause.

"I don't drink human blood. That brand of lemonade in addition to regular food can keep me going for weeks at a time without me having to go after animals either."

A vegan vampire, now Andrew had seen everything.

"Right, so why is your boyfriend passed out?"

"Not my boyfriend. The dumbass decided to go out while sick with moon-fatigue. He fainted."

Moon fatigue? Andrew looked back down at the man in the vampire's lap. That meant that 'Kevin' wasn't a human at all, but a were-something.

Instead of commenting on this, Andrew refocused on the vampire's face and said, "You sure you aren't dating?" Because it seemed pretty fated, a dumbass vampire who starves himself to the point where he has to raid the local grocery store for magical lemonade, hooking up with a dumbass were-somethingorother that resisted the change to the point where he got sick and then went out like that, thus necessitating the aforementioned situation where stupid starved vampire has to come rescue him. Speaking of... Andrew took another look at the carton in his hand and memorized the brand. There was no way he was ingesting anything that was able to keep a vampire off his bloodlust for weeks on end.

"Very," the vampire confirmed. Then he sighed and looked down at his friend for a moment before smacking him sharply enough that the sound even got a little echo. "Wake up, asshole!"

Kevin jolted awake with a lurch, then moaned and covered his face his hands. "The liiiiiights, they're so briiiiiight. Neiiiiiiiiiil where aaaaaare weeeeee?"

The vampire - Neil - rolled his eyes and gestured to the man in his lap. "See what I have to deal with?" He shook his head and shoved Kevin off his lap before standing. He was a little shaky as he rose, but managed to keep his feet. "Get up Kev. Thanks to you there's a huge ass fucking mess and if we ever want to come back again we're gonna have to help clean it up."

"Nooooooo."

"Yeeeeeees."

Kevin peaked his eye open, saw Andrew, and pointed. "Make him do it. Its basically his job!"

"I don't work here," Andrew said immediately, despite the violently orange vest he was wearing that sported both a name-tag and the logo for Palmetto Grocery.

Then a truly awful thing happened: Neil grinned at him. It was like the goddamn moon rising over an enchanted fucking lake, is what it was. Those blue eyes shined and his whole face softened. Two perfect dimples winked at him, his fangs flashing in a way that was both really sexy and kinda... cute. Even with the blood-spatter on his face the man was downright captivating.

Kevin woozily stumbling to his feet snapped Andrew out of his momentary stupor. The were looked from Neil to Andrew and sighed, shaking his head. "Tiny assholes. I am surrounded by tiny assholes." Then he turned and began to shuffle around, picking up boxes of Twinkies and stacking them in one arm.

Andrew turned back to Neil. "So if all you are here for is lemonade, why are you covered in blood?" It distantly occurred to Andrew that this probably should have been the first question he asked.

Neil shrugged. "Had to kill someone when I picked up Kevin."

Ah, well, that was that then. Andrew nodded his understanding and the two of them joined Kevin dealing with the mess. It was after Andrew had righted the display fixtures and Neil had started stacking all the boxes on them upside down that Neil looked over at him and asked, "Do you usually work nights?"

Andrew paused, blinked, and looked over at him. "Why?"

"Just curious. Kev and I are new to town."

"I am not a tour guide."

Ugh, no there it was again - that grin. This time accompanied by a short, bright laugh.

"Understood." Neil placed the last box on the top of the fixture, somehow getting it to balance on a single corner. Satisfied, he then looked back at Andrew, still fucking smiling. "I guess I'll see you around, then."

"You confuse me," Andrew said, almost without meaning to.

Another fang-flashing grin. "I'm a bit of a puzzle."

Andrew studied him for a moment, considering. He wondered if the idiot vampire even realized he was flirting with him. It sure seemed intentional - but he hesitated to give the dumbass that much credit.

"I guess I will just have to solve you then," Andrew finally said.

"Guess so." Neil then had the audacity to wink, and Andrew's ears turned pink. Intentional then, definitely intentional.

Luckily, Neil had turned to collect his friend, so probably didn't see his traitorous ears. The vampire looked back at him one more time, just long enough to raise a hand in farewell, before leading Kevin away from the refrigerators. Andrew tracked him with his eyes until they turned the corner, and were gone.

Well, if nothing else - Palmetto sure as fuck got a hell of a lot more interesting.

[ko-fanatic]

Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake (Part 2)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary:

It seemed after the night before, Ishimaru was back to routine. The issue? Mondo wasn't previously aware of said routine.

TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs

Other parts: Part one

A/N: So, I reference a small headcanon of mine that Mondo has asthma. So fed up of it being seen as a "nerd" condition, so... The boi now has it. Not severe, but still.

Mondo made the executive decision to stay sleeping on the couch that night. Not that he was that bad off - the suite was VIP, after all, and the couch was comfy. he was a just bit miffed that, firstly, he had to do that in the first place because Mr Pretty Boy wanted to go clubbing, and secondly, there was a plush, California king sized bed in his room which was being tragically wasted. He hadn’t exactly had many chances to experience that sort of luxury, and he’d slept like the dead the past few nights. 

Maybe that was a problem. Had he just not realised? Some “Ultimate Bodyguard”, if that was the case. Shit… Little asshole, making him question things and get all shaky and crap. It might’ve had very little to do with Ishimaru, in full honesty, but he was too tired to think it through clearly. 

At least he did manage to get some sleep, despite being slightly cramped. He was over six feet tall, after all; not exactly made for sleeping on the couch. He’d even managed a rare, pleasant dream; dogs and cotton candy, Daiya’s obnoxious laugh and hanging with their friends in one of the many abandoned buildings they used as hangouts. They were such edgy little shits, but it wasn’t like anyone cared about the disused factories and crap. 

He’d been reliving the time Takemichi got his tongue piercing stuck in his jumper (somehow, Mondo still didn’t know how the hell someone did that), when he awoke. It wasn’t some crash or anything, just the usual sounds of someone pottering around, getting ready for the day. 

He groaned as he sat up, head pounding. He still felt exhausted, and he’d definitely drooled in his sleep. He turned to the window, and realised… It was still dark. Fucking really? After Mondo told him he wasn’t going out?

“Hold it right there,” He began, hoisting himself to his feet, doing his best not to fall straight over again, “I thought I said -”

Oh. He wasn’t wearing the tight jeans and such he was the night before. 

Ishimaru raised an immaculate eyebrow at him from where he was tying his trainers. “Relax, I’m going for a run,” He huffed, “I might as well get on with my regular routine, since someone -”

“I’m gonna cut you off right there, kid,” He grumbled, stretching out his back and arms, “What time is it? Sun’s not even out yet…”

“Owada-san, it’s winter,” The kid sighed, a deadpan look on his face, “It’s about 5:15AM.”

It was a damn good job he wasn’t drinking anything - he would have choked on it. Who the fuck even wakes up at five in the fucking morning, let alone after being awake at midnight? Not to mention the clothes. Mondo was praying, if the kid really was going to work out in some way, it’d be in a gym. Heating, shelter from the elements, a bench he could probably catch some z’s on because it’s not like anywhere’s going to be busy at five in the morning -

“Now, if you excuse me, I’m late for my run,” Ishimaru waved off, going to open the door before Mondo reached above him, slamming it closed once more. For a guy who worked out pretty constantly, it was pretty effortless to overpower his grip. Eh, guess that what comes from having lithe muscle for aesthetics, rather than the bulky stuff for actual strength. Not to mention the lack of warning  -

No, that shit could wait until later. Fucking focus, Mondo!

“You said routine… Have ya really been sneaking out every day?!” He demanded. He could’ve been a little softer about it, sure, but you have to understand; this wasn’t a good start to the job, especially if shit got out. Was he being overly paranoid? Yes. Did he not have a reason to be? He abso-fucking-lutely did! 

“It’s not sneaking anywhere,” The idol groaned, sounding very much like the stereotypical teenager in that moment, “I’m an idol. As such, I have an intensive exercise routine to stay trim, not to mention fit enough to perform my high-energy choreography. I just don’t see the need to wake you and have an irritable tough guy around me, when I can easily complete my run without dragging you the whole five miles.”

Five fucking miles?!

Oh, today was going to suck. Today was going to kick his ass and run him over with a truck. All because an idol needed to “stay trim”. Fuck, if the kid was any trimmer, he doubted he’d have any skin left. 

“Were the idols you guarded before babysat so extensively?” He kid questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“In all fairness, you’re the youngest client I’ve had,” He grumbled, scrubbing his hand over his tired eyes, “But kid, you’ve got to tell me when you run off. Don’t care what for. You being famous, and pretty, and so skinny… I wasn’t kidding about my worry last night. Celebrities get murdered… Or worse.”

“You think… I’m…” The kid shook his head, cheeks red, gaze staring holes into his trainers, “I understand. I don’t like it - it’s suffocating! But… I see the logic.”

Mondo smiled, turning back to his room. He had to find some clothes that passed as exercise gear… 

---

Mondo knew someone had it out for him. 

He was wheezing as he jogged, trying to keep pace with Mr Trim in front of him, but lagging behind somewhat pitifully. He had his inhaler in his bag - he wasn’t that much of a dumbass - but holy fuck if this wasn’t torture. He didn’t do track in middle school. He was more than content to work on his strength and brawling skill. 

Speaking about things he was more than willing to do; laying down in the road, waiting for the next car to come along and end his misery, was getting far too attractive. 

Conversely, Ishimaru was just about breaking a sweat, panting. His insides weren’t threatening to become his outsides like Mondo’s were. Kid either had a stomach of steel, or he was just a lot more used to this shit than Mondo was - namely, the extensive train travel and exercise. 

Actually, considering the whole “Ultimate Idol” thing, it was most likely the latter. 

That was when his legs noped out of the situation, sending him stumbling and falling. He didn’t cry out, per se, so much as let out a manly grunt of surprise. 

Who was he fucking kidding? Ishimaru heard him through his headphones and blaring music. 

“Owada -san!” He called, rushing to his side in an instant, “Are you hurt?! Can you speak?! What’s wrong?!”

Ugh, so loud. 

“What’s wrong,” He grunted, “Is that someone is punishing me!” 

Maybe a tad dramatic, but holy hell! Fuck five miles, it felt like he’d run a marathon. 

“I don’t know if I royally pissed off someone up there -!”

He pointed an accusatory finger at the idol.

“Or someone down here! Like, sorry kid, but I give! Just doing my fucking job!”

Mondo watched the idol’s carefully cute and prim expression crack apart, his dignified (if far too loud) concern quickly falling into laughter and snorts. He had half a mind to be rather offended, but the carefully crafted exterior melting into those cute as hell snorts and chortling… That wasn’t even mentioning the look on the idol’s face. Pure fucking sunshine. 

Could he not be a queer disaster for five fucking minutes?!

“You’re rather funny, Owada-san,” Ishimaru chuckled. 

“Mondo.”

“Huh?” The idol barely breathed - lord above, give him strength - staring at him wide-eyed. Of course, that tends to be what happened when he let his tongue go before his brain.

“Ya can call me Mondo, none of that ‘Owada-san’ crap,” He grumbled, and he will eternally blame the heat in his cheeks on the marathon he was sure the other dragged him through.

“Oh! Well, in that case… You can call me Taka!” The kid - Taka, Goddamnit that’s cute - grinned. He was going to have to invest in those cheesy, stereotypical sunglasses if the kid was just going to unleash that megawatt smile on him without a shred of warning. Then, the kick to the crotch he really needed in that moment - 

“Now, as you’ve caught your breath, we should keep going! Obviously such a long break isn’t ideal for cardio, but we can still -”

He just flopped down once more, groaning like a man dying.

“I said sorry, didn’t I?! Ya don’t need to keep punishing me! I fucking give!” 

“Mondo,” Kiyotaka sighed, standing once more and looking at his FitBit, “Do you want to know how many miles of my morning run we’ve completed?” 

“I don’t know, ten, you animal!”

He was sent a rather disapproving, levelling look. “Two,” Taka deadpanned, “We’ve got three miles to go.”

That truck Mondo mentioned? The one the day was going to run him over with?

Yeah, it reversed for another hit.

[loversamongus]

Coffee, Chills, and Closeness | modern!Zuko x reader

a/n: I was really happy with the way Friends, Fevers, and Family Movies came out so I decided to write a sequel to it in which you now have to take care of a sick, grumpy, little Zuko. I just really love good ol’ fluff.

warnings: characters sick with the flu; some language

words: 2.2k

After a few more days of bed rest and bowls of Katara’s special flu season homemade soup, you were starting to feel much better. The color reappeared in your face, the bounce returned to your step, and clarity chased out the dizziness in your head. Your best friends noticed your change in health and mood almost immediately.

“Must be my soup,” Katara said as you bounced past her in the kitchen to reach your cereal. You couldn’t help but question a knowing look in her eye. You raised an eyebrow in response.

“Or maybe just some good nights of sleep,” she continued. “You’ve had a smile plastered on your sleepy face for a couple nights now.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you’ve been watching me sleep and eat my breakfast now, if you don’t mind.”

But what Katara said couldn’t be completely ignored, no. You don’t often remember your dreams, but recently you’ve been able to remember one recurring image that has appeared in your subconscious for the last few nights in a row. A certain shaggy haired, golden eyed someone kissing your forehead, just the remembrance of the sensation is enough to give you the chills again. Of course, there were cowboy dolls and astronaut action figures dancing in the background so the mushiness of the dream didn’t last too long.

It’s funny how the nostalgia of your childhood could wiggle its way into any dream, conversation, or movie night decision. You didn’t have a particularly cushy childhood but it was stable enough compared to your friends. While little you sat on the floor of your living room rewatching The Lion King for the umpteenth time, Sokka and Katara were mourning the loss of their mother, Aang was shouldering enormous responsibility that isolated him from his grammar school friends, Toph was being sheltered and completely restricted from most activities by her parents, and Zuko. Well Zuko hasn’t shared much about his childhood with you but the parts he did definitely weren’t filled with faith, trust, and pixie dust.

Your thoughtful reminiscing was quickly interrupted by Sokka barging through the front door, carrying three cups of Jasmine Dragon tea. While handing one cup to his sister and one cup to you, a devilish smirk grew on his face.

“You got your boyfriend sick.”

“My what?”

“You heard me. Iroh told me he came in for his shift all wheezing and hacking and snivelly and had to send him home. Sounds a lot like someone I know.”

“I- Sokka, Zuko isn’t my boyfriend. “

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not the funniest, sexiest, strongest, most talented man on the planet.”

You heard Katara nearly choke on her orange juice and you reached to pat her on the back before grabbing your wallet and house keys.

“Okay well, I don’t have time to unpack all of that with you. I have to get to the diner.”

At this point, Sokka had already made his bowl of cereal and with a very full mouth, he seemed to be talking to his spoon more so than you. “That’s because you know it’s Zuko.”

“What?”

“I said tell Suki I love her!”

With a roll of your eyes, you headed out the door. For a few moments, you grumbled to yourself over the annoyance of Sokka’s teasing. But very quickly into your walk to the diner, a wave of guilt rushed over you. Zuko is sick with the flu. You knew you shouldn’t have snuggled up to him or cried on his shoulder while watching Toy Story 2!

“Okay but it’s not all my fault. He’s the one that kissed me on my feverish forehead. That was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself.

Once at the diner, you headed to the workroom to get your apron but before starting the breakfast shift, you took out your phone to send a quick text.

hey heard you were sick :( how ya doing?

Not a minute goes by before you get a response.

Uncle exaggerates. I’m completely fine.

Letting out a sigh, you wonder how you could have met anyone as stubborn as you. The small smile forming on your lips is quickly erased by the sound of your manager calling for you to get on the floor. Your sick friend would have to wait.

The morning shift started out the same as it always had, and you were grateful for the routine after being out sick for the past week. A couple of the regulars welcomed you back with warm smiles and kind tips, while you still made sure to avoid small talk with some of the other diner patrons. Seriously, what was up with that cabbage obsessed man? The morning hours seemed to fly by with ease. Just as you were refilling a coffee pot, however, your calm routine was shattered when you noticed a very pale, black-haired man slouched over one of your tables.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled at him before passing his table to refill one of your other table’s coffee mugs.

“Getting some breakfast,” he whispered back, propping his droopy head up on his hand.

“Well it’s almost lunch now, you idiot.”

“Getting some brunch then.” A dopey smile appeared on his face but you could see in his eyes that he must not have slept well last night.

“Zuko,” you said, almost scolding. “You shouldn’t be here. You have the flu.”

“I do not. I’m just tired. Can I have some coffee, please?”

“If you’re just tired, why do you sound all congested?” you asked as you poured some coffee for him.

“Allergies,” he replied simply but unconvincingly.

“Oh my god, Zuko,” you began to raise your voice but immediately regretted it when you saw your friend raise his hands to his head. A migraine no doubt, the memory of those still fresh in your head from your own bout with the flu. Lowering your voice, you spoke to him again.

“Why did you come here when you’re sick?”

“It’s Tuesday. I always come in for breakfast on Tuesdays to see you.”

Goddamnit. After being out for a week, you completely lost track of what day it was. Also goddamnit again. Zuko really dragged himself out just to keep up this little ritual even though he looks AWFUL. Okay, not completely awful because somehow even when he’s sick, the way he looks at you could give you chills and suddenly you’re remembering that forehead kiss again and--

“Excuse me, miss? Can I get some more orange juice?”

“Yes, of course. One moment please,” you snap out of your thoughts and reply to your waiting tables.

Before going over to satisfy your customer’s request, however, you turn back to Zuko with a gentle smile. “I’ll bring you some toast and some fruit. I’m sure that’s all you’ll be able to keep down anyways.”

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to fill Zuko’s order and once it was complete, you headed back over to his direction. You had to stop right in your tracks for a moment though and take in the picture before you. In the booth sat a sleepy little Zuko still perched up on his hand but his eyes have fluttered shut. Noiselessly, you place down his plate of toast and fruit in front of him and gently nudge his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Eat as much as you can. I’ve got one more table to take care of before my shift ends. Then you can drive me home. If you can stay awake, that is.”

“Mmmmmm thanks,” he muttered into his hand. 

You left him to pick at his food while you finished up with your last table. When you returned to Zuko about twenty minutes later, you jokingly congratulated him on eating half of his toast and a couple pieces of cantaloupe-- probably more than you had eaten when you had the flu yourself. As you started taking away his plate, you caught Zuko reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet. Knowing what little you actually served him, you stopped him before he could take out more bills than was necessary.

“No, stop. We talked about this. I don’t take tips from friends.”

“It’s only fair and it’s the right thing to do.”

“No. You took care of me when I was sick, that covers it fine.”

“How ‘bout another tip? You should wear your hair up more often. It looks nice like that.”

“Here’s one for you. You’re delirious. Give me your keys, I’m driving.”

With that, your shift was over and you were gathering your things to go home. Zuko did manage to put up a little bit of a fight over letting you drive but once you shot him your “I’m serious, mister” look, he finally gave in. It was a short drive back home but you couldn’t help but glance over at your passenger every now and again. It was rare to see Zuko in such a state as he is always the put-together one in the friend group. That wave of guilt rushes over you again since you were the one that got him sick in the first place.

“No, it was the forehead kiss. His own fault,” you mumble to yourself.

“What?”

“NOTHING. Uh, Katara still has some leftover soup. Why don’t you come up and have some? OH! And we can finish Toy Story 2 since someone didn’t let me finish it last time.”

“I’ll come for the soup but not for the movie.”

“ZUKO. I was cured by the nostalgic joy of my childhood, it can cure you, too!!”

“I don’t have any ‘nostalgic joy from my childhood’ in case you forgot. My mother left, my father scarred my face, and my sister hates me.”

Thankful you had come to a red light, you looked over to Zuko with concern. But he did not look back. His head was leaning on the window and with his arms folded, he avoided your gaze and continued to stare out the window.

“Well, all the more reason to finish the movie,” you tried to say lightheartedly, but the rest of the drive was silent.

Once you’ve reached the apartment, you ordered Zuko to make himself comfy on the couch while you threw some soup in the microwave. You spy a note on the kitchen counter from Katara explaining that she’s out to lunch with Aang and Sokka went to the gym with Suki. You smiled, happy that you could avoid good-natured sibling teasing for the time being. When the soup was ready, you turned to find Zuko sitting on the couch under a pile of blankets and holding the remote for the DVD player.

“I thought you didn’t want to finish the movie,” you questioned, handing him the bowl of soup.

“But you do.”

Your grinned ecstatically, quickly moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“You shouldn’t get too close. You’ll get sick again.”

“I’m immune now, it’s fine,” you said as you reached to share one of his blankets.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works. At all,” he replied, but his protests ended there as the movie started back up.

As you were getting yourself comfortable on the couch, your arm grazed Zuko’s and your body shook, chilled from the cold skin. Zuko noticed immediately and looked over at you questioningly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, you’re just cold. Eat your soup, it’ll warm you up.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Um, I had to take those pills when you watched me so the least you can do is eat some soup.”

With a small smirk, Zuko obliged and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before laying back against the couch. You cuddled up closer to him, figuring if the soup doesn’t warm him up, you definitely could. Once you rested your head on his shoulder, his head gently tilted to rest on yours, a much familiar scene from the time you were sick. Although the roles have been reversed this time around, the warmth of happiness bursting through your chest from this closeness is unchanged. You felt his left arm wrap around you before settling at your waist, and you reach up with your right hand to hold onto his. Sure, Toy Story 2 isn’t a romantic movie by any means, but it makes you happy. Just like Zuko does.

The movie ends with Wheezy singing his rendition of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” and you looked up at Zuko as if to say, “See? I told you Wheezy comes back. I love this part,” but he’s already asleep. It seems like you’ll never be able to get him to watch the whole movie, but you sighed contently anyways. Then, in a fit of sudden boldness, you sat up to inch closer to Zuko and kiss his cheek softly. 

He stirred and looked at you through drowsy, half-closed eyes.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “I can’t kiss you back properly while I’m sick.”

You smiled and leaned in closer.

“I’ll settle for a forehead kiss for now.”

“Deal.” After giving to you what you asked for, he gazed admiringly at you for a few moments before falling back to sleep. You could have sworn he had a dopey grin on his face, too, and you wondered if this is what Katara saw on you the past few nights. You settle back against Zuko’s chest and let his breathing lull you to sleep. The two of you fell into such a deep sleep, while in each other’s arms, that not even the sound of Katara and Sokka double hi-fiving after spotting you both on the couch woke you up.

[morri-m]

Byakuya being scared of thunder and Makoto helping him:

Byakuya hated this. He hated sitting there, awake in his bed during some late and ungodly hour whilst rain lashed and thunder crashed outside his window.

He hated it even more however, when he was at Makoto’s house. The idea of anyone ever finding out about his fear made Byakuya want to keep it as hidden as possible, he didn’t want anyone viewing him as weak, because he was anything but.

Just than, another loud crashing sound of thunder came from outside, and the blonde flinched and whimpered a little.

Goddamnit. Now he was crying.

Byakuya forcefully wiped his salty tears away, trying to stabilise his shaky breathing and trembling body.

“Stop. You are not afraid of thunderstorms.” He mentally scolded himself, yet he still jumped when another deafening roar screeched in the cloudy dark sky.

“You’re not afraid of thunderstorms.” This time he muttered it.

God, how much he despised this stupid fear. He was a grown man, not a little child. He had absolutely no reason to be so afraid of a silly storm.

———

“Ngh..” Makoto groaned as he rubbed his tired eyes, sitting up in his bed. “Damn it. Stupid thunder.” He hissed as he found out what had woke him up from his amazing slumber.

He than noticed that his girlfriend was still sound asleep beside him, her breath was slow and her hands were lying on her pillow.

The green eyed boy smiled fondly as he gingerly kissed her forehead, stroking her hair at the same time. He was super careful climbing out of bed, trying to avoid waking her up.

———

Makoto was expecting Byakuya to be asleep in the guest room still, so he was kind of surprised to see him awake at 3:00 AM.

“Kuya? Why are you up?”

‘Crap.’ Byakuya thought as he desperately tried to come up with an excuse of why he was awake at such a late hour.

“Nothing, Makoto.” He said, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice.

“You’re lying. No ones awake at 3:00 AM for no reason. And why are your eyes wet?”

Oh no, Makoto had noticed.

“Ugh for goodness sake, I already told you, It’s nothing! Now go back to sleep, and stop annoying me!”

Of course, after he had said that, another horrifyingly loud racketing noise screeched from the pitch black and still cloudy sky, and stupidly enough, Byakuya let out a gasp of fear.

An understanding look that just screamed “oh” appeared on the littler one’s face, and surprisingly for the taller one, a sympathetic look of empathy formed on his face.

“Byakuya..” Makoto said as he flung his arms around his stomach. “It’s okay..”

‘Jesus..’ Byakuya muttered, embarrassed that he needed someone to cuddle him during a thunderstorm, something that he should not be afraid of.

The brown haired ultimate hope laid his head on his friend’s lap, snuggling into him and holding him with a firm and tight grip.

The blonde had to admit, Makoto’s embrace was super warm and welcoming, it was like sitting in front of a fireplace on a wet and cold rainy night with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“So... You’re scared of thunder..?”

Byakuya sighed, he was desperate not to explain his absurd fear to his fellow survivor, but it seemed like he had no choice, Makoto pretty much had him cornered.

“Yes. There’s no need to tell me how completely illogical it is, I have absolutely no excuse for how pathetic it is, but yes, I am indeed afraid of thunderstorms.”

The blue eyed man was expecting cruel laughter, but instead, all he got was another smile.

“Hey! It’s alright! I’m scared of the dark! And I feel like that’s way more pathetic than thunder!” Makoto confessed himself.

Normally Byakuya would ridicule someone for when they would admit something like that, but he didn’t feel like he was in the position to do it as of right now.

“The dark? Of all things to be frightened of, why?” The former affluent Prodigy questioned.

“I guess it kind of reminds me of Hope’s Peak.” The green eyed boy explained.

“Well, I suppose that does make sense.” Byakuya nodded to himself as he said those words.

“So there! You’re not the only one who’s scared of something they think the shouldn’t be!” Makoto grinned as he went back to hugging him.

“Can you please stop that- AAAARGH!”

More thunder yelled from above, causing Byakuya to cry out in anxiety yet again, in return, Makoto held onto him even tighter.

It seemed like the younger one understood what the older one was going to say, because he smirked playfully as he replied, “no.”

“Makoto let me go.”

“No! I’m not gonna let you go until you admit that you like me!”

“Jesus Christ, fine, Mako! You’re my friend and I like you! Now will you let go of me!?”

“Nope! You have to say it like you mean it!~” The lucky one’s voice hadn’t lost its playfulness, and the stupid smirk was still on his face.

Byakuya sighed as the smaller one’s grip tightened on him, he tried wiggling himself out of it, but apparently Makoto was prepared for that, because he tightened his grasp even more, making a quiet little “mm!” sound.

“If you don’t say it I’ll start tickling you!” He warned, trying to make his face as serious as possible.

“Yeah right- hahahaha!”

Of course, Makoto began to tickle him without consent anyway, smiling even wider.

“HAHAHAHA! MAK-MAKOTO STOP!! YOU’LL WAKE- YOU’LL WAKE UP KYOKO!!- HAHAHA!!” Byakuya tried to wheeze out between his laughter.

“I won’t if you just admit your my friend!~”

“HAHAHA! OKAY! OKAY! F-FINE!! MAKOTO YOUR- HAHAHA! YOUR ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS AND- HAHAHA! “I-I DO ENJOY YOUR COMPANY!!”

“Great! I’ll let you go now!” Makoto finally let Byakuya escaped his embrace, and he breathed heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

“Terrible.. You’re terrible..” The blonde said with exasperated fondness.

“Do I need to tickle you again?!”

“No! No no! Don’t!”

“Haha! I’m only kidding!” Makoto laughed.

“Anyway, it’s 3:35 AM now. We should probably go back to sleep.” Byakuya declared.

“But it’s still storming. Won’t you be scared on your own?” The short lucky boy asked as he gave him a worried and skeptical look.

“I’ll be perfectly fine- KYAH!”

“Y’know... I don’t think you will.”

———

Makoto was now curled up under Byakuya’s arm on the couch, snoring softly. His face looked satisfied and happy, his chest rising and falling each second.

The former heir had to admit, Makoto did look sweet. And it was helping having him there to hold onto each time thunder crashed in the sky again.

Eventually, Byakuya was able to fall asleep. He tried to get Makoto off of him before hand, but he was clinging onto him too tight, and his face scrunched up and he grunted when Byakuya tried to put him down, as if to say “no.”

So the tall blue eyed blonde was forced to drape a blanket around the both of them, his arm still around Makoto.

“You are the most annoying and irritating person I have ever met.” Byakuya declared, though he held Makoto against his stomach anyway.

And soon, he fell into a blissful sleep, just like Makoto, who oddly enough, was starting to remind Byakuya of a little brother. Not that he knew what having one was like.

“Goodnight, Mako.” He murmured as his eyes closed at last.

[sickkillerzach]

Ex Gon' Give It To Ya

Everytime Gloria invited Javier over to see Manny, I knew it was bad news.

But she insisted every time he came over that "it's good for Manny to see his dad".

That all changed the most recent time he came to visit.

You see, he didn't just come to visit Manny.

He wanted to take Manny with him.

*************************************

There was a knock on the door. ugh I thought, Gloria's ex husband. I hate him.

She came rushing towards the door. I could tell she didn't enjoy his company, but obviously, she thought it was good for him.

But there was something rather odd about the way she looked. She always looked like she was dreading his very appearance at her house, but she looked, rather, nervous to open the door.

I stopped her dead in her tracks. "Gloria, sweetheart, you seem to be anxious about Javier's presence."

"I don't know. I just have this very strange feeling about inviting him over. I've had this feeling for a week, when I got the call from him. He sounded like he was up to no good." She replied.

He pounded on the door again, rude and impatiently.

"We'll be there in a second!" I yelled loudly, my Australian accent kicking in, as usual.

He stopped knocking.

"Well, he's already here, nothing we can do, let's just have him over to visit Manny, and he can leave, and that's it." I assured her.

I didn't want to say anything to her, as I saw the stress she was under, but I was very frustrated at her, and almost wanted to say "Well, had you listened to me, you wouldn't be here".

It was bad enough my friends never listen to me, but my soon to be fiance not listening to me is even worse.

I felt very hurt, but didn't say anything.

She went to the door and took a deep breath, and opened it.

"About damn time," he said "where the hell were you?" He asked, being very rude, again.

She ignored the question, and I came over and shook his hand. I did this every time he came over, but he was always rough with me. My hand was always red and sore afterwards, and sometimes he even squeezed so tightly, I could feel my pulse in my hand.

Manny walked over and hugged his father.

He even looked concerned, almost as if he was sharing the same feeling his mother was.

Javier gave him a very weird looking grin, like he was up to something.

Was Gloria's strange feelings, that may have been shared with Manny, meaning something more than we thought?

*************************************

Everything seemed to be normal. He gave Manny a gift, as always (which bothered me, because it was like he was trying to compete with me, but I'm always going to be the better father), he ate dinner, chatted with us, the usual things he would do.

However, when he left, that bad feeling started to settle on me.

was he up to something? I thought, and what was with that grin he kept giving Manny? He kept staring him down.

*************************************

That night when we settled on the bed, I had nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts, and Gloria had on one of her nightgowns. Everything seemed to be usual. Usual day, usual night, the only thing different was that Javier was over.

So I thought.

In the middle of the night, I had to take a piss. This was normal, as I frequently had to urinate in the middle of the night.

But something was off.

I never noticed how creepy Gloria's house looked in the dark. It was a beautiful house, but right now, it looked creepy.

I wanted a light source, but didn't want to awake Gloria, so, I grabbed my Rick and Morty Portal Gun, put it on silent, and made it so that the light stayed on until I shut it off, rather than turning off automatically.

And as an extra comfort source, I grabbed my Raichu plushie from the bed.

Gloria turned over a little bit, but didn't wake up from me getting my Raichu, and Portal Gun.

I walked across the hall, and went to the bathroom, which was right next to Manny's room, which was right next to Joe's room.

I went in, and set my gun and plushie on the counter right next to the toilet, and lifted the seat up, and did my business. I couldn't help but feel this strange feeling overwhelming me, the same feeling I was getting while Javier was over, but worse.

Way worse.

Once I got done in the bathroom, I grabbed my Portal Gun, and Raichu, and continued walking towards our bedroom.

But the feeling was getting worse as I walked away from the hallway.

For whatever reason, I checked in Manny's room.

good, he's just in his bed, snoring away I thought to myself.

what the hell was I thinking? He was gonna be missing or something?

I went back up to the bedroom, set down the portal gun on to the the dresser, turned it off, set Raichu back on the bed, covered back up, and went back to bed.

*************************************

At around 4AM, there was a loud noise throughout the house. It woke both me and Gloria up.

"What was that?" I asked her, rhetorically.

"I don't know, we should go downstairs and see." She replied.

As I walked through the bedroom door, I sensed the same feeling I had while in the bathroom.

We walked down the stairs, where the noise sounded like it came from, and there was nobody there.

I could hear Joe crying upstairs about something.

"I'll get him, you keep looking." She said as she ran back up the stairs.

I kept looking around until I heard the words come out of Joe's mouth.

"Manny's dad came and got him."

"What?" I said back.

"Yeah, he came and took him. I couldn't say anything because he had a gum at my head." He replied, obviously mistaking "gun" for "gum". I always thought it was so cute when Joe talked like a child.

"What kind of wanker points a lethal weapon at a child?" I said.

"Oliver, we've got to go save Manny." Gloria told me, which was the obvious thing to do.

I put on my tan leather jacket, black sweatpants, while Gloria put on her red sweater, and brown skinny jeans.

We made sure to have pockets to hold our guns.

"Let's see here," I started listing off all the guns we had in our gun safe. "Thompson? Nah, that'd jam too much. BAR? Too heavy. We're only killing one guy after all. SPAS-12? That's-" Gloria interrupted.

"Will you just hurry up already? We don't know what Javier could be doing at this moment, I'll just be taking the Glock." She told me.

"Fine, I'll just take the PPSH-41, and the 1911."

We put Joe in the backseat of the car, and were on our way to that dickhead Javier's house.

I wanted to tell Gloria that I knew that inviting him over was a bad idea, but chose not to, as I didn't want to put more stress on her, or even worse, cause an argument. After all, there was a lot of tension.

I started to notice how much of a bad idea it was to put the PPSH on my back, as it started to hurt with the carseat right up against it.

Too late to take care of it now.

The closer we got to the house, the faster I started driving.

*************************************

When we finally arrived at the house, we started loading up our guns.

"Papi, just stay here while me and daddy take care of something-" I interrupted her.

"Look, the kid understands what we're doing, no need to sugarcoat it, let's get moving, and take down this cunt, and save our son." Gloria wasn't fond of me swearing in front of Joe, however, I made it up to her by calling Manny "our son", despite me just being his step-father.

We began to walk towards the front door, and I knocked on it, very hard.

I could hear him screaming something in Spanish that I couldn't quite understand.

"Who the fuck is it? And what the fuck do you want?" He yelled in English, this time I understood him.

I tried my best to hide my Australian accent, and said "mail service!"

Gloria stared at me deeply as if she was saying "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Mail at 5AM?" He replied.

"Told you so." She said, despite not saying anything beforehand.

I gave her the same look she gave me.

I scratched my beard and mustache as I thought of what to say next.

"We're working the nightshift." I finally said, but became concerned as my accent was a teeny bit audible, and because that's obviously not convincing.

"No mail guy comes at-" I interrupted him.

"Goddamnit Javier just open the fucking door!" Gloria gave me an even darker look, as if she was saying "now what's your plan genius?".

"Oliver? What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to sound surprised.

"You know why, give us Manny, and nobody gets hurt." Gloria finally spoke.

"I don't have Manny? What are you talking about?"

I whispered to Gloria, "let's start shooting at the door, then he'll have to open."

She nodded, as in confirmation.

I pulled out the 1911, and she pulled out her Glock, and we started firing shots.

He started yelling in Spanish again. The only thing I could understand was "ay dios mio".

"You brought guns? What the fuck? Okay, I'll open the door, just stop firing!" He said, as he walked over.

I pulled out the PPSH from my back, and put the 1911 back in my jacket pocket.

When he opened the door, I hit him with the butt of the gun.

"You fucking son of a bitch, give us the kid right now!" I yelled as I pointed the sub machine gun at his forehead.

"I dont have him! I told you." He replied.

Just then we heard a scream, coming from, what sounded like a teenage boy.

Gloria and I turned to each other.

"That confirms it." She said.

"Guess it's time to waste this wanker." Just then he pulled out his P-99 from his jeans pocket and stared firing shots. Gloria and I immediately took cover behind his walls at the side of his house. Unfortunately, we were on the opposite sides, making us separated.

He quickly reloaded, and continued shooting.

I nodded at Gloria silently, and then moved my head in the direction of the back of the house. She seemed to get the idea.

We met up at the back, and just before we started discussing the plan, we looked in the window.

Manny was in the chair, tied up, his back turned to us.

"There's Manny. Alright, here's the plan. You run in and get Manny from the chair, I'll shoot this cunt in the leg, and then we'll have some fun with him afterwards." I told her, she didn't say anything, but rather smiled, and nodded.

"That sounds good to you?" I asked, just to confirm with her, despite she clearly agreed.

"Ye-" She began, but then was interrupted by something she saw. Her eyes widened, and looked as if she was about to piss her pants.

I heard a click.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" I asked rhetorically, knowing the answer.

"Well, it seems you shouldn't have came here, doesn't it?" He said, as he started to hold me by my neck, making me drop my PPSH.

I thought quickly of what to do, and the kicked him right in his balls.

I picked up the gun from the ground, and shot him right in his kneecap.

"Get Manny from the house, I'll take this wanker in with you." She nodded and ran to the door. She didn't go in though, and waited for me to go to the door, and opened it for me.

"Thanks." I said. I gave her a slight kiss on the cheek, just to piss off Javier.

He started yelling in Spanish, for the third time.

I noticed he was bleeding a lot, and it seemed he was hanging on to conciousness. I set him down on the ground, and put pressure on his wound.

"Oh, buddy, you can't die now, we're just getting started." I told him.

I took a look over at Manny, and he looked horrible. He had blood all over his legs and face, and it even looked like he pulled out a few teeth.

This angered me more than I thought it would.

"I see you did a lot worse damage than I thought you did." I said to Javier, as he started making grunting sounds.

Gloria kissed Manny on his forehead, and hugged him tightly, and said something in Spanish to him.

That's what I loved about Gloria, she was such a soft mom.

She took him to the car, and walked back in.

We grabbed Javier, and put him in the chair.

"You are now about to witness the strength of street knowledge." I told him as we tied him up.

Gloria looked at me, as she got the reference.

"What are you talking about? You don't have any "street knowledge", the both of you don't". He said.

"Really? You don't get the reference? Straight Outta Compton, by N.W.A.? Niggaz With Attidues?" I asked.

"I don't listen to that garbage you call "rap music"." He said back.

I gasped. "How dare you disrespect the legacy of Dre, Ice Cube, Eazy-E, and everyone else in N.W.A." "That's it." And I grabbed my phone, and played the song.

He screamed, clearly hating it.

"If this is bothering you, holy shit, you're not ready for anything that's about to happen next." I said.

Gloria seemed annoyed. She wasn't very fond of rap herself, but she tolerated it when I was around.

I grabbed my wrench from the trunk of the car, and sang along with the lyrics.

"Straight Outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube."

I started banging the wrench on his legs to the beat of the song.

Gloria, while not being fond of the song, was clearly amused at me beating him to the song.

She then came around and started shooting at his feet.

"Oh God, please stop!" He cried out in pain.

I then grabbed a pair of pliers and pulled out his fingernails.

He continued to cry out in pain.

He was clearly close to death, and so I quickly stopped the song, and put my phone back in my pocket.

I then grabbed the lighter from his cigarette packet, lit up a cigarette, while Gloria grabbed the jerry can from the trunk, and poured gasoline on him. I didn't smoke the cigarette, as I'm not a smoker, but I threw the cigarette on top of him, burning him. We quickly ran out of the house, and got in the car. I started driving back to our house.

"Well, now that that's done, Manny, are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm in a lot of pain, but nothing too serious." He replied.

"That's good. But just know, he won't hurt you anymore, now that we took care of him. We'll get you cleaned up at home, and everything is gonna be okay. Can you walk okay? He hit you pretty hard on the legs."

"I can walk fine, it hurts a bit, but I'm fine, you guys came just before he can do anything worse."

"I'm sorry about that kiddo, but he's been taken care of by us." I said.

"Thanks dad." He said.

My face lit up when he said that.

"Did-did you just call me dad?" I asked happily.

"Well, my real dad is nothing to me now, so you're really the real dad I have."

For over two years, he had only called me Oliver, and for the first time, he called me dad.

"I love you son." I told him.

"I love you too." He replied.

"Dad."

Gloria was smiling really hard when she heard this.

I then pulled out my phone.

"Hey Google, play Real Muthaphuckin' G'z by Eazy-E." I told the phone.

"Okay, starting song." The phone said back.

"Oh God." Gloria said as she sighed deeply.

We drove home safely, cleaned off Manny's wounds, and went back to bed after a long exhausting night.

The police came the next day, asking questions about the situation, and Manny showed the officer his injuries.

We were let off scott free, and everyone was happier after that.

[thedreammweaver]

You really thought I’d leave? (Burton-Schumacherverse riddlebird , trans!Oswald)

Warnings: Dysphoria, misunderstandings, accidental misgendering, Clueless Ed is clueless, brief mention of suicidal thoughts of no physical consequence, medium to mild amount of blood, forced to come out by stupid dumb uterus, so. many. penguin. tears., A N G S T, pain, suffering, the lads talk about their trauma, 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 (it turns out okay though)

Ed was still feeling his post heist high when he threw himself onto Oswald’s bed while Oswald was hanging up his coat, hat, and umbrella. Ed looked over when he heard Oswald sigh, he was rubbing at his back like it hurt. “I’m sorry..” Ed blurted out.

“It’s not your fault.” Oswald said flatly as he went behind an ornate screen in the corner of his bedroom to change into pajamas. Ed had wondered a few times why Oswald didn’t change in front of him but after all they’d only been in a relationship for a few weeks, it felt like longer to Ed, but maybe the other man just needed more time. Ed rested his head in his hands, feeling guilty

“I was being theatrical and I took too long...if I had hurried up like you said batman wouldn’t have gotten there in time to hurt you..”

Oswald scoffed “It’s OK, Eddie! I needed to let off some steam anyways.”

“If getting thrown into a cement wall where you could’ve been seriously hurt and I would’ve spent forever wishing it had been me instead because..” ‘Because I love you. C’mon, Ed, just say it!’ Ed screamed at himself in his mind “well... because it just wouldn’t be right..I mean if that’s you’re idea of letting off steam then sure.” Ed pouted, kicking himself mentally and burying his face in Oswald’s bed, the comforter smelled like him which lifted Ed’s spirits a bit. “I don’t wanna go home tonight.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud but didn’t regret it either. “Then stay,” Oswald said, coming out from behind the screen now dressed in black and purple satin pjs “I mean...if this- or- we work out you’ll probably be staying here half the time anyhow, right?” “Yeah, I guess so.” Ed said absently getting off the bed to peel himself out of the green glittery spandex suit he was in, he only had his briefs and a plain tank top underneath, he’d learned to wear some sort of undershirt with the spandex if he was going to Oswald’s after unless he wanted his core to feel an ice box. “Look! The bat got you too, we’re even.” Oswald chuckled pointing out bruises on Ed’s arm and shoulder as he got under the covers. Ed rolled his eyes and crawled into bed next to Oswald he had been afraid this would be awkward but the idea of falling asleep next to Oswald came naturally and he was soon asleep.

Ed was stirred awake just as easily as he’d drifted off by Oswald quicky getting out of bed and muttering curses “Shit, shit, shit...goddamnit..” Ed sat up a bit “Wha...Ozzie, what is it??” He asked groggily. “Uh- it’s- just- nothing, nothing just uh-uh stay there or you maybe better sleep on the couch instead uh...just- go back to sleep. Don’t turn the lights on.” After that panicked deluge of unclear instruction Oswald ran off to the bathroom down the hallway. Ed still drowsy, now worried and curious he turned on the lamp by the bed and looked over to Oswald’s side of the bed, all he could make out was a blurry red blob. He huffed and clumsily reached for his glasses, he’d left them on the nightstand before he and Oswald had gone on the heist as he’d gotten changed at Oswald’s too. His eyes were slowly adjusting and the red blob revealed itself to be a sizeable bloodstain, Ed’s heart dropped. He got up and ran down the hall to the bathroom as well. When Ed went to open the door there was a shrill “DON’T COME IN!!” which made him jump and step back. “But Oswald you’re bleeding!”

“I know, Ed, it’s normal...” Ed could hear that Oswald’s teeth were gritted. “That was a lot of blood Oswald! You could have internal damage from “letting off steam” with the bat earlier. I have to take you to the hospital, I know you hate doctors but-“

“It is normal, Edward! Now leave me be!!”

Ed was taken aback, Oswald had never yelled at him like this before. He put his ear to the door, he could hear plastic ripping and crinkling, was Oswald trying to tend to the damage himself? “Oswald, please please let me help. I know you have a lot of weird..stuff going on but bleeding like that isn’t normal.”

“Yes, it is. This has nothing to do with that son of a bitch Batman, this happens every month..”

“EVERY MONTH?! Since when??”

“...since I was about twelve or thirteen..I don’t remember.”

Ed was bewildered “Since you were- you mean as in years old right??? Oswald! That could be indicative of SERIOUS health problems!!”

“Ed just leave me alone please...stop worrying, it’s fine.”Oswald’s gruff voice was beginning sound shaky. Ed was wracking his brain trying to figure out what was going on. “Oswald please talk to me, if this is “normal” I want to understand why..I-I mean is it like the stuff that comes out of your mouth or-“ “No! It’s not like that...”

“Then what??-“

“Gimme a minute! I’ve never really had to..vocalize it..before..”

Ed leaned his head on the door, now he felt confused and impatient. Oswald cleared just throat nervously “So...I’m a man right except I- Except I got born with the wrong sort of...equipment for that..”

“What??” Ed asked, more a noise of exasperation than a question. “Jesus, Ed- I...got born with a chick’s body but later I figured out I’m not a chick alright, not really..not on the inside-We’re both guys but if you wanted to narrow things down to a strictly physical matter I have more in common with the catbitch than with you..”

Ed’s brow furrowed “So you’re a woman?”

“NO!! GOD NO, ED!! DID YOU EVEN HEAR A WORD I JUST FUCKING SAID?!”

“Okay! Okay! I-I-just-“

“DON’T EVER SAY THAT SHIT TO ME AGAIN!!”

“OKAY!!” There was an uncomfortable beat of silence before Ed spoke again “So.....what are are you?” Oswald scoffed, a pitiful tone to the noise “You’re just trying your damndest to make me feel like shit aren’t you?” Ed’s heart broke when he heard Oswald’s voice break. “No! No! I- Oswald, I swear I’m just trying to understand. S-So you’re a guy? Right? On the inside..that’s what you said? But you have...girl..parts? Then-so the blood.......oh......you-...you’re just..menstruating?” Oswald didn’t answer him. “Oswald??” Ed gently pushed the door open. Oswald was on the floor leaning against the bathtub, he was just in his underpants and pajama top now, the blood stained bottoms tossed aside. Parts of his thighs were also bloodstained, he was sobbing into his flippers, a pathetic gasping hitching noise. Ed got on his knees beside Oswald, he’d never seen the man cry before and it was making him panic “Oswald, please...I didn’t mean to- did-did...I get it right the last time at least..?” Oswald whined “Yes!...yes...but it doesn’t matter...you don’t like me anymore..” “What?? Of course I still lo- like you.” Ed grabbed the other man by the shoulders to make them face eachother. Oswald took his flippers down from his tear drenched face “Just wait, you say that now but in time..you’ll get frustrated and you’ll leave, your need for a “real man” will win out over any feelings you claim to have for me. Eddie, I’ve been through this before..I know how this works..” Oswald broke down into sobs again “Except it’s worse this time..because you actually fucking matter to me, you’re not someone I paid to tell me they love me just because I needed to to hear it on a shitty night.” He was beginning to hyperventilate now “I-I never needed anyone before like I need you and I-I didn’t mean to keep this from you but I got so scared! I was so SCARED!! Scared because I think if you left me especially because of this I’d-I’d just have to go and find the tallest building in Gotham and throw myself off...see if maybe one penguin an fly after all...this poor old bird couldn’t take that, not after everything....not after all this. I thought about it so much and I’d really rather die than have you leave me, Eddie, leave me like every other little sparkling thing that cuddled up to me as if I meant something to them! Like my parents the night I was born!! They doomed me to a life of being thrown away. Th-They cursed me that night do you understand?! An-and I so need you to be the one that breaks that curse cause I. AM. telling. you! I can’t stand that happening again..not one time more...please...not once more..please.....pleease...” Oswald begged as he collapsed into Ed’s arms, sobbing, burying his face in the other man’s chest. “Oh...Oswald I- please don’t talk like that...like you’re nothing..” Ed felt tears flowing down his own face as he cradled his bird. “I..love you. God, Oswald, I love you..you really thought I’d leave?” Oswald raised his head a bit “...Eddie, people get killed for being like me...you can never tell how people will react to what they don’t understand..” Ed absently rocked himself and Oswald softly “...I love you...I wanted to say it for so long but I was scared too, I thought you were gonna be like these type of guys I messed around with in school, they’d call you baby when you’re alone and act like they really care but then you see them with their girlfriends the next day, acting like they don’t know you...and you just feel like a fucking idiot all because they don’t like who they are... I never thought I could mean as much to you as...how you said.” Oswald wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist. “You love me? Why?” There was a pitiful wistfulness in his voice. Ed didn’t have to think for long “You’re warm. You’re the only thing that makes me feel held, only thing that makes me feel safe, wanted. It’s like I wasn’t even real before I met you...I was just here..barely. I carry your warmth with me everywhere now, so I can feel real all the time..instead of like I’m floating away. You...obviously love me too, why?”

“You make me feel human. I got too used to being an animal after being treated like one...manipulated like one. You talk to me like- I don’t know...like you care..” They sat there holding eachother for a few minutes more until Oswald’s crying resumed “It wasn’t enough that I had to get born like this..” he sobbed gesturing to his flippers and nose “I had to get born with the wrong insides too...as if I wasn’t a complete freak already..” Ed held the shorter man tighter “No, no, no, no, no, don’t say that, Oswald, don’t say that,” Ed cooed, stroking Oswald’s hair “I promise I’m going to learn how to treat you right, after all this time you deserve it..I promise I’m gonna learn, okay? And I’m not leaving, you don’t have to be scared anymore..” Oswald was still crying, Ed scooted back a bit so he could see Oswald’s face. “Look, look, I-I can run you a bath so you can get cleaned up and I’ll take care of the bed, then you don’t have to think about it anymore tonight. Would that be good...if I did that?” Ed offered earnestly. Oswald sighed and nodded, Ed smiled weakly and cupped the other man’s cheek “Good-..good, so I’ll- I’m gonna do that and you can stay here and just relax, please.” Ed kissed Oswald’s cheek before getting up and turning on the bath to let it fill while he stripped the bed. Before leaving the bathroom he just had to say it once more “I love you, Oswald.” “I love you too, asshole..” Oswald grumbled, while wiping the dried, drying, and still wet tears from his face. Ed sighed happily knowing that his bird was starting to calm down already, and basking in the knowledge that he was loved back.