#i m still sad and life sometimes is too much man

[aestromeri]

Thank you for everything Takahashi-sensei ☆ I hope you lived a good life, we will carry your memory.

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Not his type

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type

warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff  

word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)

A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.

Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...  

But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.

So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.

He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.

He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.  

Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.  

Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.  

When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.

“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.

“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...

The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.  

The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.

“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.

He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.

He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.

“You know me. Never could keep still.”

And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.  

Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look.  They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.  

And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him.  But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.

You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.  

It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spotted you even in the biggest of crowds.

“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squinting at you in annoyance.

Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.

“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them bursted into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.

Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.  

“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nodded – unsure – but he didn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.

After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still came to his house - with your mama - but you didn’t greet him anymore and he was pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always threw him a dirty look whenever he was in the same room as you. You didn’t look at him and you didn’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hated that he felt so small again even though he didn’t have a reason to. He had friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls threw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?  

One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.

“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.  

“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.  

“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.

“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.

You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.

You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.

The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.  

Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.

When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.

And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.

Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.  

Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.

So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.  

When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.

“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.  

When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.

The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.

“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”

“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.

“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.  

“Yes, that’s it.”

The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true. 

You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.  

The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.

You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.

Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common. 

 Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.

  Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -

 Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.

 You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology. 

“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.

 “What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit. 

“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours. 

And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.

 You stayed at Peñas that night.  You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile. 

 “You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him. 

 “I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.  

“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.  

When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.

So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though. 

“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be - 

“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?  

He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too. 

You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time. 

You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.  

And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -

“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.

“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.

“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”

“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.

Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.  

“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.

“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.  

“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.  

“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.

Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.  

He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.

You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth.  You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.

“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.  

“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.  

When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you lean back on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.  

You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.

“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.  

And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more.  You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.

He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.

He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.  

His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.

The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.  

“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.  

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.

 “Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale. 

 “I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.

  Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.

 “Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.

You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.  

He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.

 It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm. 

“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible. 

The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head. 

“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him. 

“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.

 You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[nexusnyx]

keep close | joel miller

Summary: It takes you six months to break. You thought you'd last longer. Tried convincing yourself that everything in your head was because he saved you, not because of real attraction. One night, Joel proves that to be wrong. a/n: I'm nothing if a byproduct of my environment. And my environment right now is a mind palace made only of Pedro's role... so here we go. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. [WC: 3.7k] Warnings: Mostly fluff. A hint of indecent thoughts, so maybe reader discretion is advised? Protective!Joel, strangers to friends, unresolved sexual tension.

masterlist

What lived under your skin the most was Joel's duality.

Registering the range of what he was proved to be a difficult task from the very beginning.

Here he was, the man who saved you. The man who somehow, despite the gritty and cruel ways of existence, managed to keep a kind bone in his body. Kind enough to step in when you were in danger, even if he didn't need to. Life-threatening danger—most people would look away these days. But not him. Not Joel.

Here he was, the man who was kind enough to look you in the eye when he saw you crunched down in a corner, sweating profusely due to the wounds and most likely looking like a rabid or wild animal, and still tried putting some calmness to his voice before asking: "Can you walk? I heard you. 'm gonna help, ok?"

That man. The same one who beat the bastards who were keeping you to a pulp. That man, currently, slept only a couple of feet away from you, with his face half-tucked inside his scarf and jacket, and for the first time in your life, you saw Joel... smiling.

It was the first time you witnessed it.

The book on his lap told you he fell asleep mid-chapter. While the sprain and cuts were minor compared to what they could be, Joel fussed as if they were broken bones. The most worrisome part was your ribs, but those, he cut out fabric from an old t-shirt of his ("they're all old now though, aren't they?") and wrapped your body as firmly as he could.

It made you smile, even if only at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

How could this be the same man?

Sometimes, you closed your eyes and saw him like that.

Mid-fight, rage and sadness oozing out of him as if they were radiation, his fists flying so fast it seems impossible to catch up to the act.

When violence is needed, Joel breaks the calm surface and introduces outsiders to the storm within.

It goes calm, storm, drizzle.

He'd never change that.

Now that it was too late, Joel would always be this sea of turbulent waters, often hidden by its vastness.

Joel "I will punch you in the throat" Miller asked you very few questions at first.

Dinner on the day he rescued had been awkward, to say the least.

Not that it mattered in the long run.

What was awkwardness in the face of not looking over your shoulder, and what was feeling left out and intrusive in comparison to the jittery stress of always checking if the gun is loaded?

Nothing.

Having two people close by who seemed alright in the head — a rarity, if there ever was one —trumped it all.

Joel and Ellie were headed West. So were you.

It was logical, only. Or it was, at first.

"I could definitely use an extra pair of hands with this one," Joel admitted. It was the first night walking together after one week stationed at the same place to wait for yours and Ellie's healing—a night of dubious whiskey and traded information.

"She doesn't seem that difficult," you answered, eyeing Ellie's sleeping frame on the other side of camp.

He scoffs. "She isn't." His lips pursed in a thin line. "I just—" his shoulders shrugged. "Think she might get bored with just me."

For someone who had barely said a word for a whole week, it was more than you first perceived him to be. "The world's quite a boring place now," you whispered. Then, shrugged your shoulders just the same. I don't care. "I like it."

"Do you?"

"I do." You remembered how noisy things were. So many nowadays lacked the age for that, but not you. "'s nice hearing nature. And that one," you tilted your chin towards Ellie, "should be happy to be alive."

The truth of that hung in the air.

That first conversation sealed it for you—Joel making an effort to ask things and answer your inquiries surprised you.

"Think we can keep her alive 'till we get to the Fireflies base?" Joel asked you.

You thought it over for a second, and came to a conclusion. "We can definitely try." A purpose other than escaping — all you've ever known — and surviving sounded good to you. "And if that's your mission, probabilities of success rise with another member on the team."

That night, all you got out of him was one eyebrow raised. "Is that so?" It sounded teasing, but he looked so serious saying it. "Well. 'm gonna hope you're as good with that rifle as you are with your probabilities."

To his delight, he quickly discovered you were.

Faster, even.

Joel might have risen an eyebrow at first, but your sentence proved to be true in the next couple of months. There's a team there. The two of you do your best at trying, even through hardships.

When there are no Fireflies, you make Ellie look away from the bloodshed. With no clear plan or direction in sight, you're a helpful extra set of eyes when Joel decides it's best to look for Tommy.

In all of the three months where you, Joel, and Ellie head towards Wyoming, a routine is established, and the days looking after each other make it hard to pretend there's any distance between your little group.

Ellie is fond of your Encyclopedia of Unbelievable Facts.

She's a quick learner, an agile fighter with a wicked sense of humor, and enough cursing to rival you in the games of "unladylike shit and sounding like pirates, honestly," as stated by Joel.

He hid a lot of his amusement in scoffs and sighs, you thought.

Joel is fond of doing perimeter checks, sleeping on his side, and 'peace and quiet'.

It takes you a bit to understand that it's easier to pull conversation from him when Ellie is safe and sound. Tucked in her sleeping bag, showering in the river streams (and swearing incessantly under her breath), eating her food.

Without Ellie around, Joel opens up, bit by bit.

He talks about Tess.

About how close he and Tommy always were.

"I bailed him out of jail, y'know? That night of..." he doesn't say it.

Most of us never do. "Did you?"

He chuckles drily. "I did." He shakes his head, sips his water. "Stupid fucker."

"More like lucky fucker." When Joel turns his head to you with furrowed eyebrows, you elaborate. "If you hadn't gone, no more Tommy."

Joel takes a second before nodding. "Yeah."

"Were you always bailing him out of trouble?"

His face softened for a second. Before him, you embraced the darkness as you did the silence, but now, you wished for better lighting. "Often. Once, he and I were at our dad's house on a winter hunting trip. He hated those at first, but before..."

You started living for the stories.

Joel's presence became warm when he shared.

Vivid, and so fucking tempting.

It was all soft whispers back and forth, until the day he dropped her name.

"Sarah."

You knew the second you heard it—an open wound starts smelling the longer it stays open, and this one carried literal weight to it.

A whiff in the wind, and mourning was all over the air.

Joel left, and in the morning, nothing more is said.

Colorado changes everything.

It gives you the smile.

It comes at a cost, like everything else.

Since there's been no Tommy, you advise and convince Joel to check the Fireflies base here, only to find out they're relocated to Salt Lake City. When you three are coming out of the building with the fresh news hot on your laps, a group tries to ambush and kidnap you three.

As it does in this world without order, hell breaks lose.

Other than hell, a lot more breaks—protocol, jaws, ideas, trust.

Theirs thankfully.

You, Joel, and Ellie make it out alive, but not good.

You find a safehouse in a mountain cabin.

"Friend of Tommy's used to live here. Thank fuck it's still here," said Joel.

"Thank fuck indeed 'cause I don't know how much longer I can—oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel."

"Hey, hey, take it easy, slow down." Joel is just if not more fucked up than you from the fight, but he's still the one holding you up. He whistles—a call for Ellie. "Help with her other side, we can finish lighting up the place afterward. She needs to lie down."

Ellie hooks her frame underneath your left side, and you thank her with your weak and sweaty smile. "And your sure just lying down and resting will heal her rib?"

"It just cracked. Bones heal, El."

"I'm just checking." Ellie always checks. "You might need some penicillin, too. That knife looked ugly."

"I'll get it once we're all cleaned up. I'll go on a run," says Joel.

You're hurt too, you bastard.

"I'm the only one not limping here, can't I go?" asks Ellie.

"No," you and Joel say in unison. "I'll go tomorrow. I'm bruised, but nothing's infected. I think I saw a warehouse down there."

Ellie sighs next to your ear. Then, she mumbles to you right before you're lied down on the bed. "Bet this will be Pittsburg two."

Pittsburg.

The fight. Joel deciding to save you despite your brother almost ruining Ellie's life.

Joel's frame sleeping next to your cot.

"You shouldn't have run off like that."

Not a single request for your apologies, or a comment on the shitshow that happened before you just 'ran off'.

Joel, the same man who saved you from a group of lunatics by bashing one of their member's head against the nearest tree, huffed and puffed before saying, "you saved Ellie's life by shooting your brother. and... i'm sorry about what came after that."

An apology from him.

How was that fair?

"You don't need—to thank me."

"I do."

"...You just saved my life, Joel."

"Well, you saved Ellie's, so consider us even."

That was then.

That was before deciding you were a team. Before heading West, before finding out about Salt Lake, before the attack.

Joel probably needed to rest himself.

Except—

There he is.

The first thing you think upon waking up in the candle-lit room.

Joel slept next to you, almost as if keeping guard.

It stirs the strings in your chest.

It's one thing to be observed by him after he saved you from those three men because you're bruised and traumatized by the whole thing.

It's whole other to know Joel is just as bruised.

Six months have passed since then.

A lot has happened. More than you could compute, sometimes, but less than your heart desired.

All the struggles, the Infected, the long days of walking, and the hard nights of worrying have molded this new thing into its own ecosystem.

This Joel sleeping on an old mattress right next to you lets Ellie take watch because he trusts her abilities and her notion of danger. He knows if you two prefer your 'apocalypse grub' — an Ellie trademark term — all mixed together or separated, if you can be trusted with the bourbon bottle (no), and that your taste in music is "atrocious but expected" (his words, clearly).

This Joel knew you kept your distance for a reason.

He'd seen it in you, months ago.

And yet, there he was.

With the book — your book — in his lap, sitting with his back to the wall and his legs already tucked inside the raggedy blankets you found in one of the cabinets.

Joel's extensive list of injuries had you waking up in a cold sweat, but the same as you, he seemed to recover fast.

In two days, he's wincing less to get up, and comments on his wishes to go look for pharmaceuticals.

That's the night you wake up to him sleeping—both of you could do it, but he insisted on taking turns.

When your eyes open, first, you see the book.

Then, you notice he moved the mattress closer to yours.

They're touching.

The raggedy blankets make them look like a single bed, and the thought feels foreign.

Next, you notice...

Joel is right there.

Sure, he's a few inches away, but... you could touch his legs if you extended your arm. All it would take is a little bit of wiggling to make a pillow out of his thighs, and you know how much more comfortable than what you have underneath you.

His smile is the last thing you see.

Not because you skipped his face—on the contrary, Joel's face is the first thing you see in the morning and the last you see at night.

Maybe that's why.

He never had this.

A gentle, real smile.

You hardly blame him. There are no reasons to smile nowadays, not for long. Not without sadness poisoning the eyes, or without the grin turning into a grimace.

Joel is smiling.

His dream must be good, because his features all softened somehow.

Good gods, he's handsome.

That's why you look so little at his face. The real reason.

Staring at Joel too much can cause you to think of nothing else, and in month one you learned the lesson of eyes wide open or head blown open wide.

Mistakes meant death.

Joel's eyes crinkled as he lifted one of his mouth's corners in the closest thing that could come off as a 'smile', and that meant distraction, which meant an eventual mistake, and so on.

When your gaze searches for the lines left by his crinkles, Joel's eyes are on you.

As serene as the quietude outside, Joel stares down, and in a contrast to the weather howling cold winds outsides, your body says it is morning, and it rises.

The longer he stares, the more it rises.

Your blood pumps harder under his gaze.

Joel knows that. He has to.

Silence with fixed gazes turns the air into a thick, palpable fog.

Why is he staring? It's probably the busted eyebrow. Busted lip. Joel never stares at you, never looks too long, too hard, never looks enough—

"I can almost hear you thinkin'," Joel's voice is a whisper, but it startles you nonetheless. Not in fear.

Once, somewhere, you read something you never forgot. The body, it always betrays itself. It blushes. It trembles.

It was true.

The shiver is involuntary.

Your mother used to say the sound of sirens meant trouble and ever since, you always heard sirens in your head as you panicked. "Was observin' your hair," laugh, look away, know your place. "It's gettin' whiter."

It gets a chuckle. A tight-lipped smile. "I'm gettin' older."

"So you say." Constantly.

The first reminder of why he kept his distance, probably. Of why he had no interest in you. Too young.

"Doesn't it look like it?"

You shrug, hugging the makeshift pillow tighter under your head. "'m not so sure how old people are supposed to look." Definitely not this good, right? This broad. Soft. Strong "Haven't been around many."

Joel points at himself. "Right here."

"You're not old."

His lip twitches. "No?"

"No."

"I'm over my forties."

"That's not old." You don't know why you're arguing. You never argue.

Joel closes the book, then hums. "I remember the world before it turned to ruins and vines."

Maybe it's because he's so damn close. Your fingers itched to touch him countless times before, but usually, there are more counterarguments in your head as to why you shouldn't. "So do I."

The smile returns to his face, but it's the awake and lucid kind—a little sadistic. Sad. "Let me rectify it—I lived in it."

"So did I." Albeit, not much. "Less than you, though." A decade or so more. Almost two.

"Right." Joel takes a deep breath, and the movement quiets you down.

Sometimes, you wished you had just a few years more. Five, or six would suffice. Would he look at you, then?

As the silence goes on, your mind starts with at least three different scenarios where Joel met you under different circumstances.

"Can't sleep anymore?"

There's no shiver this time, but you look up at him again, desperate to see some more of his sleepy eyes and that damned smile.

"Don't know," you whisper.

If he smiles again, you'll count the night as a win. Tuck his happiness somewhere out in the front of your mind to see if it occupies space. If it makes you think less of what he used to be like as a lover.

The tainted thoughts always make you avert your eyes, but this time, you have the benefit of only candle lights, so you let the embarrassment burn you as you keep staring.

Joel is looking at your face the same way. Heavy eyelids, gaze searching.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

The question makes your brain swim in the lingering pain, but for other reasons.

Every scenario still opened in your mind leads to the same corridor—he placed his big hands on your neck right now to feel your temperature and caressed somewhere in your body to put you to sleep.

Somewhere he could touch the skin.

Through foggy vision you see Joel starting to frown, so you're quick to answer before he worries.

"'m just uncomfortable." True enough. "Anxious."

He nods. "Makes sense." He exhales slowly, placing the book on the floor next to the mattresses. "It'll take a while to calm down from it. It... they came out of nowhere." You nod. He clasps his hands together on his lap. "It could've been a lot worse."

Your group had a rule. "No what ifs about the past."

Joel made your heart jumpstart all over again by almost doing it—he almost smiled. "Right. Sorry."

"We're both in one piece."

"We are." He looked down at you and then, in a gesture that your entire body freezing on the spot, one of Joel's hands leaves his lap, and makes its way to you. It places on top of your head. In administrated, slow moves, it starts petting your hair. Then, Joel speaks. As if you can listen. "None of us needs penicillin..."

His words seem to trail off.

You need a second longer to relax under his touch. When you do, the tension melts so visibly you might as well be snow under the sun.

This time, the silence is thick.

Liquid.

When his hand moves lower, it ends up on your back, rubbing between the shoulder blades, and clearing the line of sight for his eyes again.

That's when he must see it.

The second he started to touch you, your blood become fuel. You could feel it burning hot inside your veins, moving faster than it ever did with you two alone in a room. The only times it's beaten like this before you were either in life-threatening danger, or muffling your sounds behind your hand as your other did quick work between your legs.

Joel sees it.

Even if the illumination comes only from the candles, he has to see it.

The way your lips parted for him.

There's no way your eyes aren't saying as much as the temperature your body is exuding.

Joel keeps on rubbing circles for a few more seconds, but eventually, he whispers. "What?"

It makes you want to cry.

If you answer, he'll probably do the thing. He'll turn you down gently, politely.

You shake your head, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Nothing." Your eyes sting. I want you so badly it makes me a bit crazy sometimes. Instead of that, you settle for whispering. "How d'you feel?"

It takes him a minute to answer. His eyes keep shifting between where his hand is rubbing and your face. "Good. Hurts less. Unfortunately, that means thinking more."

"Dangerous."

"You have no idea," he chuckles.

This time, the silence lasts. You keep on staring, while Joel is happy to continue making your back and hair feel a tingling warmth they never saw before.

"Is this ok?" he asks eventually.

Without noticing, your eyes had closed.

Always a man of few words. "Of course."

He nods to you. "'kay."

Stay here. Don't go anywhere.

Watch out for her.

Keep close.

Those and okay. The words you most heard over these past months.

When your eyes open again, Joel's hand is traveling back to your hair and this time, the silence between you two becomes a cord.

Tension.

His fingers do careful work once they find your strands—goosebumps rise all over your skin and for the first time, you're thankful for wearing long sleeves even to bed.

You know there are words hanging in the air, begging to be said, but...

Insecurity pulls you back.

Even if your eyes keep locked on his for a small amount of forever, you swallow down your wants and needs in fear of being blinded by your own attraction and ending up projecting yours on him.

All Joel does is stare back.

Maybe if you weren't inexperienced. Maybe if you had any previous knowledge of what intimacy and relationships had been like, but this world was not the same as before and things were... harder.

So you burned in silence.

Eventually, you burned for him in the dark of your sub-conscience.

With the ghost of Joel's hand still on your nape, caressing on top of your hair, you dive into a deep slumber, and it's in dreams that everything cracks.

You're not even present in mind to witness his world shift.

Joel, in silence, watched you going under. Watched those eyes staring up at him with so much said, so much written in between your lines. He watched with his heart pounding in his chest loud enough for him to hear.

When you sleep, he observes with reverence.

Trying to push down the feelings curling up inside him.

That's when he hears it.

Spoken through your glued lips at first, then louder, more confidently. Joel's heard your sleeping mumbles before, but this one is the one that breaks him.

"Joel..." soft. Breathless. Dangerously low. And then, "Joel."

That's when Joel realizes it—late at night, alone in the silence.

It changes something in him.

📝 PART TWO →

[lovdlydaz]

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.

switch!mingi x switch!san x black!afab!reader

your boys are so dumb and in love sometimes, not knowing what or how to act around you or in public. you adore them though, but their affection can be too much for you sometimes.

warnings: fluff to smut, himbo energy, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, slight choking, slight pain kink, spanking if you squint, everyone is switches, oral (m and f receiving), js some himbo sex enjoy

a/n: i absolutely adore the idea of lovesick himbos mingi and san, they’re literally the definition of himbo energy. also ive been brainrotting on them since they’re my biases so yeah—anyways, enjoy lovelies! i just need to get this off my chest before i continue the txt series.

you loved your boys to the ends of the earth, you would do anything for them. they gave you so much energy, so much life, and they knew exactly how to make you happy whenever you were sad or stressed out about work or school. they would always give you hugs and cuddles, share their food with you and make up fun little games that you all could play in order to make you smile. they knew everything about you, and that’s what you loved about them.

so, you came home yet again feeling extremely stressed due to the amount of work your boss had put on you to do before the end of your shift. you were tired and just ready to go to bed, but your boys were on the couch playing video games and trying to kill their opponent. once they saw you slug through the door they paused the game, san coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “what’s wrong babe? another tough day?” he asked, to which you nodded. mingi got up and hugged you from behind, leaning his head down and smelling the nape of your neck.

your perfume you wore always never seemed to fade away, even as the day went on. you almost never reapplied it either, which mingi could smell but you still smelled like heaven. he looked up at san and gave him a look, which the man nodded. they both then pulled away from you and you were about to fall asleep from their body heat, but you stopped yourself and stayed upright to see what they had planned. you could only see through blurry eyes that they were going into your shared bedroom, closing your eyes for a little until you heard loud screaming—there they were.

they both had on princess tiaras and earrings, some pretty makeup and plump lips. you wondered how they did that so fast; but you didn’t question it. however, what you did notice was how they also had gotten into your wardrobe and got dressed that you normally didn’t wear, squeezing into them and giggling. once you realized how far they really went to make you smile your face beamed, giggling softly and looking up at the both of them. “you guys! you both look so funny—how did you even manage to fit in these?” you walked up to them and started to touch all over their dresses, smiling the entire time.

“well, apparently san knew how to put on a dress, and i just thought of it the same as wearing a long shirt—i was so wrong,” mingi exhaled, smiling once he felt your tiny hands on his body. “i only know how to put on a dress because of a concert we had that one time and i had to wear something like a dress—remember that mingi?” he asked, mingi nodding and grinning. “yeah! you looked so cool man. i wish i got to wear the cool stuff during our concerts…” he pouted, making you turn to him. “mingi, you’re one of the only people who GET to wear the cool outfits. you can’t complain,” he told him, making mingi frown but giggle after. “yeah… i guess you’re right y/n. but… do you feel better now?” he asked, both of your puppy-eyed boyfriends staring straight at you to see what you would say.

you just cheesed and laughed, nodding your head as you got out your phone. “yes, yes i do! now smileee!” you singsonged, the two men posing as you took pictures of them. once you were done you pocketed your phone, hugging them both and they wrapped your arms around you smaller form. you pulled away after a minute and looked up at the both of them, their smiles never wavering with your own.

now you three were in bed, cuddled up together and watching a movie on the big TV san had bought for your birthday. it was one of your favorite movies and, while the boys didn’t necessarily understand it, they never said anything because it always made you smile. you were the light of their lives, seeing you was the one thing that motivated them to get up in the morning. they felt like your relationship would last until the day they die. nobody could really ever break the three of you apart.

you say between the two men, basically using them as a sort of blanket even though you had one on all of you. you watched the movie with gleaming eyes, and san happened to notice that your hands were staying on your body instead of wondering like they normally would. so, he grabbed your hand and placed it in his lap, holding it but never taking his eyes off the movie. of course mingi didn’t notice this, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you even warmer. your cuddle sessions were the best in your opinion, and you could never ever not be satisfied by the end of it.

however, there was a certain scene during the movie that always had you blushing, when the love interest and protagonist were doing some unholy things. now the hand that was on san’s lap tried to move away, but the bigger man kept it there. he knew how flustered you got with this scene, even though you watched this movie about a hundred times, this part always made you flustered. mingi knew as well, and he used it to put his hand on your thigh, running it slowly up your pajama shorts near your womanhood. you gulped, catching san’s attention.

“what’s wrong pretty girl? movie too much for you?” he purred, getting close to your ear and kissing right underneath it, near your jawline. you shivered and started to feel yourself getting aroused, whimpering softly as the men continued on. you understood why watching movies like this was a bad idea with them around, they were men in their mid twenties whose libidos were through the roof. especially with you. their dicks and muscles talked more than their brain half the time, but you enjoyed that more than you would like to admit.

now here you were, spread on the bed while san was nose deep in your pussy. mingi sat behind you, fondling your breasts and pressing his plump lips against your darker skin. “fuck baby, lookin’ so good for both of us aren’t you?” he mumbled against your skin, causing you to let out a desperate whimper as san continued with his tongue. “tastes just like chocolate too, so delicious and sweet,” the smaller man panted, going back to indulge himself in your taste. both their cocks were rock hard and throbbing against their boxers, mingi not really being secretive that you were turning him on.

he rolled his hips against your back, moving a hand away from your breasts to grab your braids, pulling them back and forcing your head back. you gasped before his lips pressed against your own, drool escaping from the disgustingly desperate kiss. you could feel your orgasm coming the more san’s tiny yet skilled tongue moved against your labia and your clit. he was eating you so good, tasting your sweetness on his tongue and making him go insane. he was so easy to get pussy drunk, you did that to him. both of your boys were so easily under the influence, your pussy had a spell on them that they couldn’t get enough of.

you pulled away from the kiss and just laid your head against mingi’s shoulder, moaning the closer you got to orgasm. “f—fuck— sannie, min— fuck!” you cried out the last part, legs shaking as your orgasm flowed all over san’s tongue. he slurped up every single bit of your juices, mingi massaging your breast and holding your neck. “good girl, that’s our good girl. now give us some more for the night yeah? can you do that baby?” he cooed, you still in the aftershocks of your orgasm but drunkly nodding. “mhm, can give y’all some more,” you breathed out, making mingi smirk.

meanwhile, when san finished he stood up from the bed, a wet spot on his boxers as he panted from the pure desire beaming within him. he looked up at you and mingi, climbing onto the bed and pressing his thinner lips against yours. you kissed back, your plump lips smearing the lipstick and lip gloss all over his lips. mingi’s hand was still around your neck, leaning down to press more kisses against your jawline and neck. you loved this attention, and they knew that. so, they stopped kissing you and moved you onto san’s lap, right against his boner that was begging to come out of their clothed confines.

san looked down at your smaller form, your braids falling over your shoulders and your lipgloss smeared all over your lips. your big e/c eyes gave him that look that made him lose his mind, so best believe he was going to give it to you good. he lifted you up softly to pull down his boxers, kicking them to the ground and sitting you back on his lap. your ass was grinding right up against his leaking hard on, making him suck in a breath and look back at mingi. the blonde haired man had his cock in his hand, stroking softly as he stared at the both of you. “go on, let her sit on it.” he commanded the black haired man, making him nod his head and grip your hips with enough tightness to have them bruise in the morning.

you looked back at san, since your back was against his chest. “please sannie, use me,” you begged oh so sweetly, you were too much for them both. that was all the black haired man needed to hear before he shoved you all the way his thick cock, hearing your sweet voice cry out with pleasure and shock. he let out a breathy moan at the feeling of your tightness around him so suddenly. you smirked down at him, grabbing his chin softly and rubbing his lip with your thumb. “you feel s’good around me sannie… such a big boy fuckin’ me,” you groaned out, making his cock twitch up inside you.

mingi watched you two with hungry eyes, he wanted in on the action but watching you start to grind your hips down on san and seeing his eyes roll back with pleasure had his attention more than his cock did, you were so sexy. your lashes fluttering with each movement, big plump lips glossy and covered with everyone’s spit as sweet moans escaped your throat. the sweet sound of your moans made the two men go absolutely insane, san’s cock was twitching madly inside of you because of how sweet you were.

mingi got an idea. he crawled over to the both of you, stopping your hips with a hard grip of your hips, tapping san’s shoulder and making him turn his head. he then whispered something in his ear, making san nod his dazed head and lay down. mingi grabbed your face and opened your mouth, spitting into it and making you swallow. you looked so dazed and you loved the messiness, it was so hot how a switch would flip inside them every time you three had sex.

the blonde was hovering over san’s face, his shaved hole right over the man’s mouth. the tallest had made sure to wash himself good too, since he didn’t want his friend and lover to taste something disgusting inside him. san’s little black eyes were hazed and filled with desire, his hands reaching up to grab mingi’s hips. he then forcefully pulled the man down to his face, basically suffocating himself with mingi’s ass. the blonde gasped and moaned softly, while his hands still holding your face guided it down to where his cock was. “fuck— suck it baby, know you can,” he grunted, you not needing to be twice before your whole mouth wrapped around his tip, your hand grabbing the parts that weren’t inside your mouth.

mingi’s eyes rolled back with pleasure, the overwhelming sensation of his boyfriend eating him out while his girlfriend sucked his dick made him lose his mind, and he loved it. san was enjoying this as well, because he was getting harder inside you and you weren’t even moving. you were getting wetter around him from hearing them both groan and whimper because of how good the sex was, you needed another orgasm.

you were on your knees and san’s hips were completely on the bed, not moving until he noticed how much your hole clenched and unclenched around him. he decided to start moving his hips, thrusting up into you and forcing your head to fly back in a frenzy. you moaned so loudly, mingi whining from the loss of contact and eyes begging you to continue. you of course didn’t see them so he grabbed your face and pushed you back onto his cock, moaning because of how good your wet mouth felt. your braids were all over the place now, sticking to your skin as sweat glistened over your chocolate body.

mingi’s eyes couldn’t believe himself, the two hottest people in the world were eating him out and sucking his dick. from watching you and san break underneath him he came in just a few minutes, filling your mouth up with his hot and tasty seed. you swallowed all you could, trying to get every last drop to savor the flavor. he rolled his eyes back and laid his head back, hands accidentally landing on san’s shoulders and pressing his whole weight onto them. san softly smacked mingi’s ass to tell him to let up, but all that elicited out of him was a moan. so, san did it again, this time harder, and the man got the message.

he let up on san, moving his ass up from his face and letting the man breathe. the black haired man’s face was covered in saliva, but he looked pleased with himself. he was still so close to orgasm, he needed something more to help him get there though. your pussy was more than enough but, he just needed more. so, mingi leaned down and kissed those thin yet cherry red lips of his, and that made him cum. you were riding him the whole time, moaning as he filled you up.

you came soon after, clamping around his sensitive cock and moaning alongside him. after a minute or so you got off of his cock, mingi staring at your creamy brown pussy ooze of you mixed contents. “c’mere honey, lemme eat you,” he panted, grabbing you softly and pulling you towards him. he laid down and sat you on his face, you rolling your eyes back as he devoured you. san was back up and kissing your lips, you whimpering into his mouth as mingi cleaned you up. after a good few minutes you came into his mouth, him cleaning up that substance as well.

after another minute or so you tapped his thigh, moving your hips away to signal your overstimulation. he let you do so, since he knew that you had work in the morning and he didn’t want you to be too late. however, he smack your ass a few times before letting you come up, you gasping at the smacks and rolling your eyes back.

san watched and bit his lip, his cock twitching but not coming back to life. mingi’s surprisingly hadn’t come back to life either, but that was because it took all his power not to get hard. you looked up at the both of them, your lashes almost falling off your face due to the sweat making the adhesive wear away, you were panting and shaking because of how good you had just felt.

your boys laid down with you, smiling and giggling because of how sweet you looked. you were so fucked out, and they knew how good they made you feel. they hugged you as you slowly drifted off, not before mumbling a sweet “good night”, to which they responded with in-unison “good night babe!” before you were out like a light. the other two stayed up to watch you, giggling and laughing while they watched you sleep. however, they did go to sleep after a few hours, and you all looked so peaceful together.

you loved your himbo boys, and they loved you. they may be air headed and think with their muscles half the time, but they knew exactly how to make you feel better and how to fuck you good. they were your world, and you were theirs. it was mutually a really great relationship.

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 5)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

Story Summary: The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

Chapt Setting: The Farm/Woods

Chapt Warnings: pretty explicit drug use (meth), season 2 Daryl, degrading/sexist language (he’s starting to get better lol), SOPHIA CHAPTER (I think that deserves a warning)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Daryl’s POV story. Daryl’s starting to be less of a dick, trying really hard to make it feel organic/make it make sense in the story. Idk. This chapter was really rough to write because… it made me sad. Also have no idea if it even makes sense (the hallucination bit, really hope it does) lol ALSO; I looked up some timeline stuff and i just?? Really thought Daryl was out there for days on his own? But apparently he wasn’t? We’re just gonna say that he is in this story. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I can only do so much when the timeline of TWD is fucking stupid sometimes. (I mean it. Come for me. Idc. Rick was in a coma for 59 days without food or water???!?!!!? Bye)

masterlist

17+ mdni (no smut in this one tho sorry)

Like fiberglass in my veins, it tears through me. Mellow, at first, almost think I should rail more before I can feel myself sweatin’. Different kinda sweat, comin’ from my fuckin’ soul. 

Haven’t felt like I was doin’ something ‘wrong’ since I was little. That feeling that ch’ya get when you’re doin’ somethin’ ya know you’re not s’possed to. This ain’t the first time I done spazz, but maybe it’ll be the last. The anxiety about doin’ it goes away the second I feel the devil kick me through my nose to the back of my brain. Even though I know it’s comin’, it always feels like gettin’ skullfucked by satan. 

Been out here for a day. I brought Merle’s shit with me because I decided to finally get rid of it somewhere. But I got somethin’ that needs doin’. And anyway, I got years of experience with ice. Not doin’ it. Sometimes doin’ it. Never let Merle know, he’d’ve made some big whoop ‘bout it. And everytime he’d gone and done more than he remembered, he woulda blamed me. Shit though, sometimes it was. 

M’not like Merle and Beatle. Ain’t an addict. Can do shit and put it down. Always been able to put it down. Figured other people could too, that they just didn’t wanna. ‘m not sure, but still kinda think that. 

Never felt fuckin’ guilty about it before, though. Fuckin’ Beatle. I’unno if it’s cuz I’d be done with her if she did the same shit, or if it’s cuz I know if she knew that I was - she’d be mad at me. Mad I didn’t invite ‘er. 

But this shit ain’t for fuckin’ playtime. Only reason ‘m even doin’ it i’so I can find Sophia. So I can stay awake, focus, and get ‘er back. They use ta use this shit in war. War’s the reason methamphetamines even exist. Nazi’s? Hell, every single one of ‘em in WWII. Kamikazi’s loaded up, totally fuckin’ wasted outta their minds on crystal while they bolted ‘em in. Kept ‘em awake, kept ‘em happy, kept ‘em focused on the mission. Tha’s what I gotta do. 

I can’t stop lookin’ til I find ‘er. Sophia. ‘m the only one that can, only one that knows how. And anymore, ‘m the only one that seems to give a shit. ‘Sides Carol. And Beatle. She wanted ta come. Told her she’d only slow me down. Distract me. Drawn more geeks. She woulda. Told her I didn’t need food either but she packed me some anyway. Knew I wasn’t gonna be hungry. Knew I was gonna use this dumb shit to help. But whatever. 

Doesn’t matter what happens to me, right? My life’s not worth nothin’, not compared to that little girl. Now that her old man’s outta the picture she actually got a chance. Maybe not mucha one, not the way shit is these days. But she got ‘er mom. And ‘er mom can actually be ‘er mom now. Not scared of some piece’a shit prick that finally got what was comin’ to ‘im. 

Man fuck that guy.

The trail I’m followin’ disappears so I backtrack to the mangroves where I found her doll and try to find another one. 

I start to wonder what kinda old man Beatle had. What kinda mom? Startin’ ta realize I don’t know a damn thing about Beatle. I know she likes drinkin’, she likes laughin’, she likes fuckin’ with me. But… 

Beatle keeps surprisin’ me. Not just because she let me hump her face a few days ago, the fact that she liked it, shit I haven’t even had a second to process that. Nah, more cuz she hasn’t brought it up. Hasn’t tried to hold my hand again. Hasn’t been annoyin’ me nearly as much. Not even at all, if ‘m honest. 

My brain’s goin’ a million miles a fuckin’ second over Beatle and what happened between us. Not just the other night, but back then. Got questions that need answerin’ but she ain’t here. Try to keep myself occupied with trackin’ but it ain’t like trackin’ takes much thinkin’. Follow every trail I pick up, but none of ‘em lead me to Sophia. 

I’d prob’ly start gettin’ really frustrated about this, but that’s what crystals good for. All the dopamine I need, and nothin’s annoyin’. Focus.

✨🏹 

Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, walker guts. Trees and rocks and blood and mud and dirt and greens and browns and reds and blacks. And it’s dark and it’s light and it’s dark. And it smells fuckin’ rotten. Bent branches, wilted leaves, another trail, another dead end, another undead shithead. Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, Beatle. 

How many times did I go into Merle’s bag and take the devils dick up my nose? Cuz Beatle’s standin’ here right in front of me. ‘Cept she’s all done up in makeup and glitter and her pupils are the size of dimes. Little pink crop top, tiniest pair’a daisy dukes I ever seen. ‘n she’s in my face sayin’ the shit I been thinkin’ about her sayin’ since that day she said it. 

“I like you, Dar.” 

“You like bein’ fucked up more.” I say it like I said it the last time. 

“That’s not true! I mean - I like you, Daryl.” She steps closer, tries to put her hand on my cheek before I brush her off. She slumps back a little, turning away. “You like me, too. You said it.” 

My hearts in my fuckin’ throat and I’m standin’ there, this can’t be fuckin’ happening. I know is’not but doesn’t make it feel any less real. “Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle.” 

Hate that I said that to ‘er. Did I really say that? Cuz maybe that’s how I felt. Hell, maybe that’s how I felt last week. But it ain’t fair. I don’t know her. Still. Now. Don’t know ‘er at all. Thought I did. Thought I understood what kinda girl did those kindsa things. Is that really what I said? Fuck.

She’s still turned away from me, but I walk the half circle around to look at her face. And she’s sobbing. Silently, trying to stay as still as possible. I… I don’t remember this part. Maybe I didn’t see it? Nah, I saw it. Just didn’t care. Didn’t wanna look at ‘er. Didn’t want to hear her lame ass confession. Especially after she’d brought up that I told ‘er I liked ‘er. She sniffles and wipes her face before she pulls a bubble pipe out of the waistband of her shorts and lights the bottom, starts smokin’ it. She asks if I want a hit, like last time. 

I go to say no, but the words don’t come out. Instead my hand reaches for it. I look back up and Beatle’s dressed all different. Baggy jeans and a bikini top. That night. Fuck. Shit. I don’t want to relive that night. 

“I promise, I won’t tell Merle.” She says, handing me her lighter. And I smoke it. Inhaling the vapor slowly like she had. “You gotta sip at it, like it’s a coffee and you’re drinking the air to see if it’s still too hot. Roll the bowl or it will burn.” I do it the way she says. She’s like ten years younger than me, but she looks at me - talks to me like it don’t matter. Like she don’t see it that way. Guess I don’t either, never really did. 

I’d never wanted to smoke it before. But that night I wanted to. With her. Woulda done anything she’d asked that night ‘fore she ruined it. I ruined it. Til it got all fucked up an’ it was never the same again. Not the way I saw her, not the way she looked at me. 

I’m goin’ through memories like they’re happening all over again. Feelin’ fuckin’ sick. I don’t wanna remember this. 

I hand the pipe back to her and she asks, “How do you feel?” 

“Fine.” 

“Just fine?” She smiles. 

“Good.” I clarify. 

“Good.” 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “I think I like you, Beatle.” 

She laughs too hard, ��you think?” I feel myself getting sicker and angry again all at once. 

I split in half. One half feelin’ those same feelings I felt. That this conceited fuckin’ bitch really acts like everyone likes her. I hear her words and it sounds like she’s sayin’ ‘well obviously’ - but the other halfa me hears it like a real question. Like she wanted ta know what I meant. I don’t remember how I responded then, but I can hear myself say it, “Self-obsessed cunt.” 

Beatle laughs, “Is that what you like about me?” 

My misunderstanding continues; Thought she was pickin’ on me. Makin’ funna me. All these years. All this time. Thought she was fuckin’ laughin’ at me. Never told a girl I liked her. Not that I never did like one, just never told ‘em. Not like some teenage fuckin’ confessional. And I do and what?  she just laughs.  

Shit. 

Cuz inside ‘m screaming. Screamin’ at myself ta say somethin’ different. To jus’ tell her. She’s special, she’s exciting, and when she smiles at the shit I say it makes me feel like I’m the only one in the fuckin’ world to her. Tha’s what she wants ta here. Tha’s why she’s askin’. 

“Nah. Forget it.” She nods, and I thought she did forget it.  She forgot until she brings it up again in the memory I already re-lived. 

Tha’s how I was so damn sure she didn’t give a single shit about if I liked her or not. Didn’t bring it up again for months. Didn’t give a single shit about me at all. Felt stupid for ever thinkin’ she might. Just a dumb crush on a dumb girl, and I forgot everything about it. An’ every little thing she did that made me like ‘er ended up as somethin’ else I hated.  And every time I saw her after that she was fucked up on somethin’. Meth or booze or weed. Usually all three. 

It comes at me like a fuckin’ freight train, her lips crashing into mine, but this time I want it. Don’t wanna stop kissin’ ‘er. Instead my arms move and I push her down to the ground. She’s wearing the crop top again, can tell she’d been cryin’. She’s layin’ there in the rocks lookin’ up at me and I flash back to the living room where this happened, where she’d told me she liked me back. I wanna beat the shit outta myself for makin’ her look like that. 

How didn’t I see it? 

I did see it. I just didn’t care. Thought I knew what kinda girl did those kinds’a things. 

Wonderin’ what kind of old man she had. What kinda boyfriends before she met me. How maybe she’s just as fuckin’ scared’a feelin’ stuff as I am. How maybe it took her months to even get up the courage to tell me after I’d told ‘er never mind and slowly started to hate her. How many’a those drinks were for courage? How many’a those hits were cuz she was nervous?

Shit. 

And she’s runnin’ away like she did then. Away from me an’ outta my life until a few weeks ago. I know it ain’t real but I run after her anyway. Screamin’ her name into the open air like maybe somehow I can change it if I can get her to come back. But she’s gone and ‘m still running tryin’ to find her. Screaming for her ‘til my throats hoarse. 

‘Til the walkers hear me. 

✨🏹

Andrea fuckin’ shot me. What is wrong with this fuckin’ group?

✨🏹

Beatle’s in the bedroom with me but I can’t look at ‘er. Don’t wanna. Feels like she knows what I was doin’ out in them woods without ‘er. Like she can see the dirty shit in my soul and for some reason it makes me ill. Can’t look at ‘er. Knowin’ I hurt ‘er like that all that time ago. Knowin’ it now like I ain’t ever known anything else. 

It’s just me ‘n her and she doesn’t try to talk to me. Just lets me lay there hatin’ myself for all of it. Didn’t even find Sophia. 

Spent a lot of my days in my life hatin’ myself. Thinkin’ I was good for nothin’. Now ‘m sure of it. 

I feel the bed move under the weight of her. She hugs herself around me, and like some pathetic kid I fuckin’ cry. Don’t know if she can tell or not but she tries comforting me anyway. “It’s okay, Dar. You did your best.” Her voice… how could I have ever thought it was annoying? Her bein’ so nice just makes me hate myself more. 

“Lea‘me alone, Beatle.” Shakin’ her arm out from around me. She gets off the bed and sits back in the chair she’d been in. God, I fuckin’ hate myself. Wanna scream No, come back. I didn’t mean it. 

Still got question’s that need answerin’. This time Beatles right here, and I ain’t got nothin’ to lose. “Why were you naked in Merle’s room?” Grateful that she’s sittin’ behind me. Don’t think I could talk to ‘er ‘bout this stuff if she was lookin’ at me. Right now? If I saw her face? Don’t think I could talk at all. 

She laughs. Fuck her stupid fuckin’ laugh. “I still can’t believe you think I fucked around with Merle.” 

“Why not? Y’all hung out every other day.” My voice is sharp, feels like she’s laughin’ at me again. Always feels like everyone’s laughin’ at me. 

“We all hung out every other day, Dar.” 

“Stop callin’ me tha’.” 

“I was carpet surfing. Your dumbass brother spilled all the schkag all over the damn place.” 

Oh…. But, “Ya didn’t have any clothes on.” 

“I never had any clothes on, Daryl. You sure I wasn’t just wearing something ‘slutty’? You know, like you always said I was? Cuz I don’t remember, but I���ve never been naked with Merle. Ever. Sounds fuckin’ gross.”

Oh. 

It made sense. Makes so much sense, ‘specially now. She keeps talkin’ an’ ‘m grateful cuz if I tried to say anything else I’d start fuckin’ cryin’ again. “I liked you, man. I…” she stops herself. Wanna beg her to keep goin’ but I can’t. 

Instead I ask ‘er the only question I got left, “Why’d ya leave, then? Ya left ‘n ya never came back.” 

She’s silent for a long time. “When you and Merle moved, where’d you go?” 

She did come back. 

“Why’d ya leave, Beatle?” Doesn’t matter where Merle and I went. She’s avoidin’ the question. 

“Got sober. After that night… with you. Wanted to get sober. Wanted to…” she don’t say the rest but she don’t need to. I got it. Fuck, my heart can’t take it. 

“Cuz I said ya liked gettin’ fucked up more than ya liked me.” It ain’t a question. I know. 

“Think it was more the other thing you said.” 

Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle. I can still taste the words. “Shouldn’t’a said that to ya.” My voice is barely a whisper. 

She gets back up on the bed and puts her arm around me again, this time I don’t shake her away. Her voice, so close to my ear, “I didn’t want to tell you that I came back. I didn’t want you to know that I got sober for you.” 

What? “Why not?” 

“Wasn’t sure you’d care. And if you did… I didn’t want you to have all the what-ifs in your head that I have in mine.” 

She hugs herself into me so tight it’s hard to breathe, and she tells me, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

I feel guilty, can’t take any of that back. Can’t make any of it better. I don’t deserve this. Her. After all the nasty shit I ever thought about her. After what I did to her the other night. I can’t bring myself to tell her to leave cuz I know she wants to be here. Don’t wanna make her cry again. 

So I let her hold me. Even though I don’t fuckin’ deserve it. 

[holdmytesseract]

It's Okay To Be Scared

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: A 'slumber party' ends in a distaster for you and your son. Can Daryl save you two?

Warnings: usual twd stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, panic? fluff! Daryl being an amazing dad and husband

Set in Season 4!

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: Here we go! 😄 This just randomly popped up in my head, when I watched this scene (I think you'll know which scene I mean.). I had to write it, hehe. ☺️ Also, Teddy's the cutest. I love him. 😍

Divider by my lovely friend @fictive-sl0th <3

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

"Mommy?" You turned your head at the sound of your five-year-old son's quiet, hesitant voice urging to your ears. "Hey, bud, what's up?" You smiled at the young boy, squatting down to be on an eye-level with him. The bright sun of Georgia shone through the barred windows of the C-Block, dipping the grey hallway in a soft yellow light. The sunrays got caught in the little boy's brown curls, causing them to shimmer. He may have inherited Daryl's hair colour, but not his actual hair. The kid definitely had your soft curls. Your eyes scanned your son's face and body. From his blue-grey eyes, which resembled his father's, over his little snub nose and rosy cheeks, all the way down his slightly too big clothes. His black t-shirt fitted him perfectly, but the jeans vest was definitely too big, just like his tattered and ripped jeans. You had to smile. He looked so much like his dad. Speaking of... "Where did you leave your daddy, huh? I thought you wanted to help him outside, checking the fences?" You wouldn't have let him join his dad, if you weren't aware that the boy was in the safest hands possible. He nodded, but looked at you with a sad and angsty expression. "Y-Yes, but... There were so many m-monsters, I-I got scared." Your expression softened, before you pulled the boy into a hug, "Oh baby..." and kissed his head.

It hadn't been easy for Teddy to understand, that the world was suddenly different now. Dangerous. Scary. He had been still a toddler when the world went to shit, but that didn't make it easier to explain. Why there was so much blood and death. Why there were suddenly scary looking people, who wanted to literally eat him. You and Daryl had a hard time adjusting Teddy to all of this. He had already seen so much. Things a kid should never see, but you couldn't change it. It wasn't in your hands. You never wanted this life for him, but it was how it was now.

Teddy looked up to his dad, of course, saw how Daryl helped the group, got food on the table and so on. His dad was his hero, without a doubt - and he wanted to be just like him. Be just as brave and fearless. The problem? Teddy was, after all still a child - and got scared very easily. Something he inherited from you. You were just the same, especially as a child and quite often even today. Some might say Teddy was a bit all bark and no bite - what you thought was quite cute. It was okay for him to be a child. He had to grow up into a man soon enough...

"You know that it's okay to be scared, yes? Always remember that, because being scared helps us sometimes. It's important." Teddy cuddled closer against your chest, both little arms wrapped tightly around you. "I-I know, but daddy's never scared..." You backed up from the hug, shaking your head. "Oh he is, Teddy. He's very good at hiding it." You said, running your hand through his long hair. It reached almost his shoulders by now. You could've cut it, of course, but Teddy looked way too sweet with longer hair. The boy nodded, although visibly not entirely convinced by your words and shuffled his feet nervously. "What was it you wanted to ask me, sweetie?" You decided to change the topic, distracting your son's mind from the walkers. It seemed to do the trick. Teddy smiled softly. "Can I stay at Nick's cell tonight?" Nick - one of the Woodbury kids and now Teddy's best friend. "Of course, bud. Does Nick's mama know?" Again, the boy nodded. "Uh.Huh... Nick said he's goin' to tell her." "Perfect." You smiled at him and stood up again. "Now go out play, while the sun's still out. I saw Patrick and Carl playing soccer outside. Maybe you can join, huh?" Teddy nodded, but tugged nervously on the red bandana around his neck, which his daddy had gifted him. There was something else occupying his mind. You could tell. "Is there something else, sweetie?" Once more he nodded, blue-grey eyes meeting yours again. "Can you, uh, stay with me tonight, mommy?" "At Nick's?" "Uh.Huh..." You smiled softly, tucking a few wild curls behind his ear. "I thought you are such a big boy already?" "Y-Yes, but... Please mommy..." Teddy looked at you with big, pleading eyes - and suddenly, you had a guess. "Are you having nightmares again?" The little boy nodded, grimacing, in order to suppress his tears. He tried so hard to be strong. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Come here, baby." You opened your arms for Teddy again. An offer he took gladly. You lifted him up in your arms, not caring that he got pretty heavy for you to lift meanwhile. A few silent tears wetted your t-shirt. Teddy was plagued by nightmares almost regularly. He always had a hard time sleeping peacefully, but since the death took over the world, it became even harder for him - which was understandably. And whenever he woke up at night, afraid and crying from another nightmare, the only way to help Teddy was his dad. When Daryl wasn't here, you tried to help your son as well, but nobody was as helpful as his daddy.

"I'm coming with you tonight, okay?" Another nod. Teddy wasn't a child of many words - just like another important man in your life was. His small tear-stained cheeks glistened in the sun, causing your heart to ache. You knew exactly what you had to do now. "C'mon." You adjusted him on your arms, before you left the C-Block and made your way through the corridors out on the yard, eyes searching for your husband. Luckily, you found him pretty quick. He was preparing for the run he was about to go on, with Sasha, Glenn, Tyreese, Bob, Zack and Michonne. Daryl saw you approaching him, of course and was immediately alerted, since you were carrying Teddy. He wiped his dirty hands on a rug, stood up and met you on your way. "Hey, babe." Daryl looked at you and his boy, concerned. "Wha' happened?" "Nightmares," you mouthed, which was enough information for Daryl. He didn't need to know more. He placed a hand on the boy's back. "Hey, buddy, c'mere." Teddy didn't let himself tell that twice, unlocked his arms from around your neck and wrapped them around his father's, clinging to him for dear life. You gave Daryl a sorrow look, causing him to lean over to you and place a quick kiss on your cheek, "I got it." before he turned around and walked away with Teddy in his arms. Guess the run had to wait...

"Alright, baby, I'm going now, okay?" Daryl nodded from where he laid in the bed of the cell your small family shared, hands crossed behind his head. "Ya really wanna leave me alone tonight?" He almost pouted, causing you to giggle softly. Teddy wasn't your only child sometimes. "You know that Teddy asked me to, but you can join if you want." He scoffed at your words. "Nah, wouldn't wanna interrupt your girl's night." You giggled again and stepped over to him, in order to kiss him. "Love you." "Love ya, too." "Sleep tight, see you tomorrow." Daryl nodded, pulling you in for another kiss. "See ya." You grabbed your things, blew him a kiss and left the cell, tiptoeing down the dark corridors to cell block D. Little did you know, that staying with Teddy that night in the D-block was going to end in a disaster. A deathly disaster.

That night, you slept way too tight, to hear the soft snarling and growling of the polite and kind young man Patrick had once been, nor the heavy, slurping footsteps which passed the empty cell you were sleeping in, right beside the cell Teddy was sleeping in with Nick and Anne - his mom. You were completely exposed to the threat, lurking in the shadows of the night - but you didn't know it. Nobody knew it.

Daryl had been up quite early that day, just like Rick and Carl. He had just slipped into his beige shirt with the torn off sleeves, as he heard a loud noise ringing through the corridors, causing everyone which was still asleep to wake up - without a doubt. He furrowed his brows. It sounded like a... gunshot! Without hesitation, the archer grabbed his crossbow and stormed out of the cell, just like several others. Carol for example. "What was that?!" "Sounded like a gunshot." "Where from?!" Just after the words had left Carol's mouth, another gunshot was echoing through the walls. The answer of Carol's question was quickly answered, causing the man's eyes to widen and heart to run a hundred miles per hour. The D-Block. It came, without a doubt from the D-Block. "It comes from the D-Block." Daryl breathed out, before he started to run like a mad man, straight towards the block; Carol following him.

The scene he walked into wasn't one he hadn't seen before and yet it scared the shit out of him, because he knew that his wife and son were somewhere in the middle of it... There was blood everywhere. Dead and bitten men and women laid on the floor. The still living people ran around in panic, trying to flee from the walkers, which were trying to get another bite out of the people. There were screams and cries everywhere. "Shit!" The archer cursed, his mind immediately wandering to you and Teddy. He desperately hoped that the both of you were alright. Without wasting another second, he threw himself into the fray, killing every walker on his way. "Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed out, eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. It wasn't easy to overlook this chaos. "Daryl!" He heard Rick shouting at him. "I got it!" Signalling him, that he had the door situation under control. Not that Daryl cared about this in that moment. All he cared about was you and his son. Nevertheless, he gave Rick a short, hasty nod, before he continued his search.

"Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed from the top of his lungs through the loud noise. "Daddy!" Daryl heard a child scream out - his child. He would recognise Teddy's voice everywhere. "Teddy!" He yelled again, looking around to find him and point out where the voice was coming from. To his sheer luck he found him - just in time. The boy sat on the ground, crouched into a corner, crying, with a walker stumbling straight into his direction. Daryl's eyes widened in shock, but nevertheless he reacted fast, ran over and rammed his knife in the back of the walker's head, carelessly throwing the dead body aside. "Teddy!" The archer fell to his knees in front of his son, pulling his small, trembling body immediately close to his. "Are you okay?!" Daryl's eyes scanned Teddy's body for any bites or injuries. The small boy nodded, yes, and clung to his father, still crying. Daryl held him close to his body with his free arm, standing up again. "Teddy, where's your momma?!" "I-I dunno." Cried Teddy. Once again, Daryl looked around frantically, still not able to find you - but he found Carol. "Carol!" His best friend turned to face him. "Can ya take Teddy somewhere safe? I-I gotta find Y/N!" Carol nodded, of course, took the boy immediately in her arms. "You go with aunt Carol, okay? I'll go, find momma." Teddy cried even more, but let himself got carried out of danger from Carol. It broke Daryl's heart to leave his son like that, but he had to find you. "Y/N!" He ran to check the cells, killing another walker on his way. Remembering, that Nick's and Anne's cell was on the second floor, he was quick to run up the stairs, checking the upper cells as well. "Y/N!" "Daryl?!" He heard your voice calling out immediately, causing relief to wash over him. You were alive. He found you locked up in a cell, with a dead walker to your feet and another one in front of the barred door, trying to get its filthy hands on you. Daryl was quick to get disposed of the walker and opening the cell door with shaky hands. "Daryl!" You cried out, running into his arms. You were utterly rattled, covered in blood. "You okay, sunshine?!" Daryl asked you, strong arms keeping you close to his body. "Y-Yes, b-but I lost Teddy. I-I don't know where he is!" You cried, sobbing into your husband's shirt. "W-What if he's dead! Oh g-gods!" You felt how your knees gave in, but Daryl caught you. He immediately shook his head, trying to comfort you. "Hey, hey, hey, Y/N, stay with me, 's alright. I found him. He's alright. He's with Carol." "O-Our baby's o-okay?" "Yes, sunshine. He's safe. Teddy's safe." "O-Oh thank g-god... I-I was so afraid of him, b-but I couldn't leave to search for him. T-This walker had me trapped a-and- oh gods..." "Shh, shhh, it's okay, 'm here." Daryl's calming voice urged to your ears, despite the loud noise. "We gotta get you outta here." He said, before hoisting you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the corridor, the stair and past Rick. "You got this?!" Rick nodded. Glenn had joined the chaos as well in the meantime. "We got it! Look after your family!" Daryl gave Rick a thankful nod, before he left the horrendous scene and took you back to the C-Block.

The archer laid you down on the bed in your shared cell, before he called out for his friend. "Carol?" No minute later, she approached with a still shaking Teddy in her arms. "Did you find her?" Daryl nodded, taking Teddy back in his arms. "Thank god. She alright?" "Yeah, jus' quite rattled." Carol nodded in understanding. "I'll go, take care of the other survivors." "Thanks." "No need to thank me," she said, giving Daryl a small smile, before she left.

"Daddy... Where's mommy?" His son asked, voice trembling. "She's here, buddy. She's okay. We are all okay, alright? Everything's goin' ta be fine." His words seemed to calm down the boy a bit, but not as much as being back in his mother's embrace. Daryl stayed with you and Teddy for a long while, even after the boy had passed out from all the exhaustion, sleeping tightly. Hopefully without having nightmares...

Now Daryl sat behind you on the bed, while you leaned against his chest, hands intertwined. "What happened?" The archer asked in a quiet voice, eyes trained on the sleeping Teddy. You shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know, honestly. I was sleeping and suddenly I heard those screams. I got up quickly, looked outside - and there were walkers everywhere. People we knew, suddenly turned. Then everything became chaotic. I tried to react and look for Teddy, but then there were those two walkers..." You said, shaking your head at the vivid memory. "Do you know what happened? What caused this? Did Rick say something?" "Not yet, but we're gonna find out."

[channiesposts]

bang chan nsfw alphabet

felt like i wanted to do smth like this bc i’m stressed and sad abt life and i think writing helps me not think abt the bad things in life <3 lmk if you want this w other members, bad things are constantly happening so i’ll have enough inspiration lmaoo <3333

don’t think i’m gonna add a warning but obvi mdni!! thank u <3

a - aftercare

chan is such a softie, i am too just for him. no matter how rough he gets, he’ll make sure you’re properly cleaned up, hydrated, and calm before letting you go to sleep. this guy is the sweetest person ever, his aftercare will be reflective of that.

b - body part (their face body part of theirs & their partners)

his favorite body part of his is probably his arms or abs. he works hard on them, he’s proud of them. his fave body part on his partner would probably be…everything. idk man, i think he wouldn’t be able to choose just one part he likes about you. if anything, he’d probably say your eyes. or your ass.

c - cum (anything to do with cum)

i’m glad that everyone here makes things abt chan having a breeding kink bc that is it! i feel as if he doesn’t really care much about cum. his own, specifically. he’ll cum anywhere. and he won’t mind if he’s just cum inside you or in your mouth. he’ll still eat you out / kiss you.

d - dirty secrets

i feel like his biggest dirty “secret” is his breeding kink. he knows that it’s smth not a lot of people enjoy. i think his biggest “secret” though is that he has a special little photo album of pictures of you that he jerks off to. he’s also a big pillow guy iykyk

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i saw someone say that he isn’t necessarily experienced but i think he has a good amount of experience. not tooooo much, but he has enough experience to know what he’s doing. he’s a quick learner as well, so he’ll experiment doing something once and get the hang of it. he fs knows what he’s doing.

f - favorite position

missionary. he loves doing other positions as well, but he’ll always somehow come back to missionary. he loves just looking at you, especially when he’s fucking you just how he likes. he also does like it when you’re on top, especially in the studio.

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous)

chan has his moments. since sex is such an intimate experience, and considering how rough he can get, it’ll mostly be a bit more serious, but there are times where it’s a little more giggly.

h - hair (how well groomed are they?)

fuck it if i knew, he doesn’t really care about hair ig.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? romantic aspect)

this man has had casual one night stands and i stand by that! but, he does like it to be a little more romantic. he’d prefer to have an actual connection w someone but a man’s got needs.

j - jack off

busy busy people have to rely on themselves sometimes. he does it a moderate amount, especially when you’re not around.

k - kink (one or more of their kinks) ((all giving))

we’ve got the breeding kink down. feel like he’s into choking, perhaps sadism (very very slightly). feel like he’s into a bit of humiliation. he’s got a vvv dirty mouth. idk, these are the first ones to come to mind.

l - location (favorite places to do the deed)

in your apartment. he likes to take his time w u most times, so he’ll want to do it somewhere more private, where he can’t actually take his time.

m - motivation (what turns them on and gets them going?)

anything you do turns him on. i saw a post once about how chan loves manicures and painted nails and i think that’s smth that needs to be talked about more. he sees you got a manicure and immediately, no matter how ashamed he is of that though, thinks abt how your manicured hands would look around his cock. he also loves seeing you in crop tops. honestly, he gets turned on by the littlest things you do. you can look at him and he’ll want to fuck you into next week.

n - NO (something they wouldn’t do, ever)

don’t think he’s that into piss stuff. idk the name for it but we know what i mean. tbh, besides that, i don’t think there’s not much he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once. he’ll try it once, decide it’s not for him, and move on.

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

prefers giving. he just love seeing what his mouth can do for you. he loves receiving, he loves seeing you on your knees for him, having him just the way you can. but there’s smth abt having you lay there while he’s pleasuring you. seeing your face, seeing the way you squirm, the way you chant his name over and over again. saw somebody once say he’s a pleasure dom and i will die on that hill as well.

p - pace (are they fast or rough? slow and sensual?)

he can be both. he has those days where he will be rougher, will make you call him daddy, will edge you for hours. but he also has days where he just wants to show you that he loves you. he’ll be much more gentle, constantly kissing your face, holding you, and telling you he loves you whenever he catches his breath.

q - quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often)

busy busy people have to rely on quickies sometimes. he’s always so consumed with work and the way they’ve been working, it doesn’t allow him to spend as much time with you as he would like. i don’t think he’s that into public sex, etc but he will drag you into the nearest closet or bathroom and take out his frustrations that way.

r - risks (will they experiment? do they take risks?)

definitely experiments. definitely takes risks. it def takes a couple of times to get him to fully take risks but once he gets there, he will make you dizzy w all the suggestions he has.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he’s learned to control himself so he can cum with you, after he edged you for hours. he can last a long long time. it depends on his mood, when it comes to how many rounds he can go. some days, he’s down for one, two rounds. some days, he can go for what seems like hours and hours and hours.

t - toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

don’t think he has any toys he uses himself. but if you have toys, he’ll be more than happy to use them on you. won’t do a lot with them but will definitely bring them out once in a while.

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

i live and breathe the bang chan being a tease agenda. he teases on his lives, who’s to say it doesn’t bleed into his actual life? he teases a LOTTT. sometimes it’ll be for what feels like hours, bc it probably has been. he loves edging you and will continue his teasing until he feels like you’ve had enough. or when he’s had enough and he needs to find his own release.

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

i don’t think he’ll be the loudest person but you’ll definitely hear him groan and moan a handful of times in one night. usually just heavy breathes. he knows it drives you insane when he groans right in your ear so, position permitting, he will definitely lean down to let out the loudest grown right by your ear.

w - wild card

jealousy sex with chan. i will not explain any further.

no but he isn’t the type to get jealous but the days that he does see somebody get a bit too close to you or whatever else, he will fs show you exactly how he feels during the night.

he’ll make sure you wear that pretty little butt plug while he viciously pounding into you. he’ll be saying all sorts of things under his breath before he flips you over. will take one look at you like that, spreading you apart and looking at what is his. a breathy laugh leaves his mouth.

“you really are my cockslut, aren’t you? letting me use all your holes, knowing you love every bit of it”

x - xtra piece of imagination

dirty talk with him gets a hell of a lot dirtier when he’s about to cum. will be saying all sorts of things.

“want me to fuck you full, yeah? gonna take every single bit of me. fuck, look at this baby. look at how you’re taking me in.”

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s in his mid 20’s so it’s calmed down a lot but it’s hard to be around you, see you looking like that, and not want to do something with you.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep after)

my insomnia twin 🙌🏼 jk but i think he’d fall asleep after you fall asleep. he makes sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about sleep. in the meantime though, he is rubbing your back and making sure you’re at ease, hydrated, and just feel good.

edit : x is originally x ray but i didn’t feel comfortable with saying how “big” he is and all that. ik my blog is all about talking abt how much of a whore i am for bang chan but i personally have a limit and i think it’s talking about how big he is. i’ve written stuff about him fucking you into next week but i really do draw the line at like “oh how big is he” or “how many veins”. i’ll talk about him being “big” when it comes to a lil drabble but other than that, nope. idk if this boundary is reasonable or not but i just can’t see myself writing about it. sorry if this disappointed you :,(

[insomniacwriter17]

When the littles are together Billy is the most little of them, right? So he could drop more because he feels safe with his big sis and big bro? Or getting upset for not understanding the games or what are they talking about?

man oh man, bills is definitely our Littlest of the bunch!

- robin makes such a good big sister. even though she’s not that much older than billy, she keeps an eye on him.

- empty sippy cup? not for long! robin is so attentive to billy’s drinks that the boy doesn’t ever have to ask for more when she’s around. even if the cups only half empty, she’ll make sure stevie knows he needs more.

- billy looks sleepy? “mama i think we’re done with toys, we should watch a movie! i’ll even go get my blankets!” and she wraps it around billy’s shoulders and lets him choose where he wants to lay down (its always the couch. always).

- and robin seems to have a sixth sense for when billy is feeling self-conscious about being Smaller Than Normal, so she tries hard to make sure that he knows it's okay. she brings him his pacifier or some of his softer toys, offering to play quieter games with him.

- eddie is a big brother in every sense of the word. he tries really hard to be well-behaved and set a good example, but sometimes eddie is just too excited.

- he can be loud and boisterous (on the days he talks!) and sometimes that startles billy, especially when billy is feeling smaller

- one day billy was cuddled up against eddie on the couch while they were watching a movie and stevie was cleaning the kitchen, and eddie suddenly sat up, nearly vibrating with excitement and said "we should go play outside!"

- the outburst had scared billy, who had been contently zoned out against his big brother, and immediately tears filled his eyes and his lip wobbled.

- "no no no! im sorry billy!" eddie gasped, realizing that he was the reason the baby was crying. "i didn't mean to scare you!"

- and eddie doesn’t want steve to think that he made billy cry on purpose! so he quickly reaches for tank, who had been dropped in surprise, and pushes him back into billy’s arms. “here! its ok, billy, i promise! i’m sorry!”

- deep down, billy knows eddie didn’t mean to scare him, so he takes tank from eddie and then holds his arms out for a hug.

- eddie decides maybe they shouldn’t play outside after all, and just hugs billy and settles back down for the rest of the movie.

- but billy always wants to be involved when robin and eddie play games, even if he’s Way Too Small to be playing games.

- sometimes he’s happy to team up, but other times he wants to play on his own!!! and robin and eddie don’t want billy sad, so they let him.

- but “life” is not nearly as fun as it looks, because it’s hard! eddie and robin are reading cards and moving their pieces everywhere, but billy just doesn’t get it! he’s too Little to worry about stuff like that! he just wants to push his little car around the board.

- “you can’t do that, billy! it’s not your turn!” “aw man, you gotta pay taxes!” what are taxes?! this game isn’t fun!

- this game is stupid, billy decides. he’s still sitting next to eddie, but he’s drawn his knees to his chest and is hiding his face. “d-don’t wanna p-play no m-more!” he sniffles when robin points out that it’s billy’s turn. “it’s t-too hard!”

- eddie reaches out and pats at billy’s head like he’s seen steve do a million times. “we can play “candyland” after this instead?” the brunette offers. “when robin and i finish this one?”

- billy peeks up above his knees, eyebrow raised. he likes “candyland”! “c-can i keep m-moving m-my car?” he whispered meekly, pointing to the green plastic piece. “i d-don’t l-like the b-boring stuff.”

- “fine. you roll and move your car,” robin agreed. “and then when me and eddie finish, we’ll all play “candyland”!”

- so while robin and eddie play “life” and collect families and goals and try to win, billy is happy to be included, rolling the dice and pushing his car around.

- he doesn’t understand why eddie and robin like this game so much, but he just likes spending time with them. so he’ll play their silly game until it’s time for the good games. like “candyland”.

[yandere-daze]

❄️OH MY GOSH IF THEY CONTROL TOUR MISSIONS….damn whoever gave me repidigit missions are not forgiven. (it’s probably trickstar. rebellion stars end on a repidigit.)

OH and if they can somehow manipulate our phones settings to hear our voice while we play the game oh man i’m starting to feel sorry for them hdjsjksjs

if the player is the type of person who says the most random things during the game (like me) the characters would hear things like “omg leoooooo i love you so much i hope you fall on your face you’re so cute <33” THEY’D GET SO CONFUSED and whenever the player didn’t get the five star they want the characters would have to hear things like “I HATE YOU NATSUME WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE BEEN RITSU”

or maybe some random humming (or screaming) of the song’s lyrics maybe occasional singing normally. i think leo especially would be really happy about it since he wrote all of knights’ songs and his beloved player is singing them oh my god he’s getting so much inspiration

or maybe if you remember their voice lines from the being on your homescreen or party for so long you started saying their lines with them! some of them would probably get so happy they cry.

I IMAGINE TSUKASA BEING HIGHKEY SAD WHEN WE MOCK HIS “ENSEMBLE STRAWS” IM SORRY TSUKASA

yes i do all of the above

sdnakjndl if you think the repidigit missions in en are bad then be happy that you´ve never had to play the jp tour events before. Honestly while playing the en version of the first tour event I was actually pleasantly surprised because I thought that it was way more comfortable with it´s goals than the jp version. What I did with those missions was to look how many notes the song has beforehand and then play normally until I hit a high combo with a repidigit ( I didn´t even know this was a word before plaything the tour event djnsldan) and then drop the combo. Then I just continued playing normally until the end of the song and it would work because the game only counts the highest combo you achieved while playing

In jp we instead had to have the score end with a certain number at the end of the life. Thise where the ones I usually really struggled with. What you would do there is play on easy and play normally through almost the entire song until there´s like only 10 notes left. Then you pray that the score ends in the desired number in those last few notes. If it does you stop playing immediately and hope you´ll still pass the live. It was really annoying and sometimes I would have to try this with every single songs in the day because it just wouldn´t work out. So glad they replaced those missions in the en version!

gn reader

tw yandere, spying through the mic

Honestly, no matter how weird or stranger whatever you say ends up being, they wouldn´t really mind. They tried so hard to hack into your microphone so just being able to hear your voice after all this time is already a blessing! Even better if you´re saying their name! It sounds so wonderful, coming from you!

They will probably be a bit confused if you make such random statements but most of them are just zoning in on the fact that you said you love them <3

And then there´s people like Mika who are like “ they called me cute and want me to fall on my face? What if I fall down on purpose just for them? Are they going to call me cute again???” and he just does whatever you ask of him in an effort to please you

And yes, the gacha pain is real, I feel you, anon! I tend to be quiet while scouting but internally I´m screaming when I get a different character. I´m pretty sure I´ve talked about this somewhere before so I´m keeping this a bit shorter but of course they would be really sad too when you say you hate them! They tried so hard to come home to you so you would hopefully put them on your team and use them, but their plan seems to have backfired!

Before hacking into your mic, the characters were kind of aware if they had the honor of being one of your favorite characters or not simply from if you pulled on their banners or not. So they might have feared that you didn´t like them all that much but it hurts so much more to have the confirmation and hear you outright say it

So there are some positives and negatives to this new development. Obviously another positive is when they can hear you singing along to their songs. They feel so proud and love hearing your singing voice too! They wish they could duet with you! But just hearing your praise is already sweet enough ^^

And you´re right that Leo especially would be happy about it because he composes all the songs for Knights so you enjoying them enough to sing them makes him super excited! All his hard work paid off if you´re liking his songs! He will mention this to absolutely every person he meets snfskbf Also gets a new burst of inspiration as soon as he hears you sing. You´re his muse after all!

Nooooo not ensemble straws 😭 I get it anon, I truly do. Gotta be an oof moment for Tsukasa though sjbdldb

[ciaossu-imagines]

Sorry if this is too much for one ask, but M, K, and J for Enki (Nanba)? Also, is it ok to send the same questions but for different characters?

Thanks so much for sending in a request, my gorgeous anon! I'm more than happy to do these up for you and I hope you'll enjoy the headcanons! I'm generally pretty easy-going about how many requests get sent in or if there's a couple more prompts than I asked for...though I do want to say, not just to you, anon dear, but everyone that when I do set character limits or prompt limits (lately, one character, one prompt per ask), it's usually for a reason - it makes it quicker to answer the asks and I can normally write more for the post since I'm focusing on only one topic, especially where I'm still getting back into writing and a large majority of what is in my inbox is multi-character requests. However, to answer your second question - it is perfectly okay to send in multiple requests for the same character or the same prompt with a different character because I'll work on them when I have ideas for those characters or prompts. Anyway, smut is under the cut, and I hope it satisfies, dear! I think this is one of the first times I've ever wrote Enki seriously and I hope I did him justice!

M(otivation): what turns them on, gets them going

Oh, you're going to hate me, anon dear. Enki doesn't get turned on, not that he'll admit or allow himself. This man has such a strict control on his own emotions and desires. He compartmentalizes and reins in any impulses, desires, or needs that he feels acts against his work and purpose.

K(ink): one or more of their kinks

Does Enki have kinks, fetishes, and fantasies that pop into his mind, despite how much control he has of his mind? Most definitely he does. It's normal and human.

However, I'm really, really sorry to disappoint, but Enki is highly unlikely to act on these kinks, fetishes or fantasies. His view towards sex is very traditional, almost puritanically so. Sex to him is something saved for marriage, when two people fully commit to each other and your virginity is a gift you give to another.

He doesn't have casual sex and I honestly see Enki as completely a virgin in the series, since he dedicated his life to justice and his work. He saw that as his calling more than a life that allowed him the time for marriage and children, though he did sometimes allow himself moments of wondering what such a life would have been like and did sometimes feel moments of sadness or longing for such a life.

Even in marriage, Enki has very firm ideas of what is and isn't proper sexual behaviour. Sex should be loving, enjoyable, but at it's core, I do think it is something Enki believes should be done largely to carry on the family line and for reproductive purposes.

J(ack Off): masturbation headcanons

You know the belief that everyone masturbates? I'm normally the first to agree, but honestly, when it comes to Enki, I don't. As mentioned prior in these headcanons, Enki keeps a really tight rein on his own sexual desires due to his strong moral codes and ideas of what is right and proper.

So, while I do think he has masturbated at least once, probably during the start of his sexual awakening, before he got that tight rein firmly in there, I don't think it's something he does as an adult or often during his teenage years.

Enki doesn't buy into the belief that sex is an absolute necessity or that desires must be satisfied for the body's happiness. He very much does turn any sexual frustration he feels into energy he can spend on other things, such as physical and mental training or his work.

[bokutosmochi]

omg ur nsfw iwa headcannons were so yummy i can’t! would ya ever consider doing them for osamu? man has been heavy on the mind! if not no worries!! i love ur writing <3

WOULD IT BE SHALLOW? ♡ MIYA OSAMU

miya osamu x afab!reader

ingredients? there's been a lot of changes between the osamu of today and the osamu of yesterday. some good, some bad. and for the latter, sometimes, he needs help to cope with those changes.

what's it? smut

allergen warning/s? femdom, unprotected sex, body worship, insecurities, reverse comfort, oral [m!receiving], marking, cervix kissing

sugar level?  3.7k

regulars? @hanayanetwork @takipnet @tokyometronetwork

parlor's note: okay so requests are closed, and also, i'm discontinuing those headcannon lists because i feel like i'm wasting so much concepts that have drabble/part of a fic potential, but i couldn't resist writing this up. it's basically one osamu headcannon i thought of made into a fic.

me? wanting to dom and shower these pretty boys in praise? seems more likely than you think.

bon appetit!

osamu loved volleyball, perhaps not as much as his twin, atsumu did, but it was something he took a liking to since he was a child. he's met most of his friends through volleyball, whether they be fellow lovers of the sport standing in his side of the net, or the other, a lot of his fondest memories took place in either a volleyball training camp or within the court, and it undoubtedly strengthened his bond with his brother.

but it wasn't what he lived for, his true passion in life and so after high school, he quit. he still played it from time-to-time as a hobby - though he did find it quite difficult to keep up with his professional volleyball player brother - and whenever he did, a bittersweet feeling of nostalgia washed over his chest.

no matter how warm this bittersweet feeling is and no matter how much he loved it, it did not change the fact that he pursued culinary arts instead.

the biggest fight with his brother was because of this, yet of course, it was simply fueled by the blonde miya's feeling of sadness and perhaps even a hint of betrayal. after all, he has achieved everything he did alongside his brother -- his favorite spiker. regardless of how he feels about it, he only wants the best for his little brother, what ever it is miya osamu's heart truly yearns for. he has come to accept it

when osamu first enters the culinary world, he enjoys the differences between that new environment, and his old athletic environment. he finds that he flourishes in it, that it's second nature to him, his true calling.

it's for him, and leaving the volleyball world for this is definitely the right choice.

from how his co-workers view each food prepared as a story in their lives, to how they plate it as an artform, it makes him happy. yet as always, there were hardships and osamu found himself facing a lot of them. first, there was the aforementioned fight with atsumu, then having to delve down not only the food aspect of his dream job, but the business aspect of it as well. if that wasn't challenging enough, the first few months of onigiri miya didn't start off too well either. he'd get five customers in an entire week if he's lucky, and most of them were broke high school students who ordered the cheapest option in the menu -- not that he blamed them, he's been there too. the bottom line was that he was making less money than what he spent. the worst part of it was knowing he's a good chef who might have to hang up the apron before he actually had the chance to put it on and show off. everyone in his life told him so. but everything changed when the inarizaki boy's volleyball team started to hang out and eat there upon discovering that the owner of the establishment was the miya osamu, one half of the feared miya twins. he, along with his team, took their beloved school to nationals not one, not two, but three times. ever since then and signing a deal with his senpai kita shinsuke who's to be his rice supplier, things started to look up.

he's glad to have this legacy, along with volleyball, to leave when he inevitably fades away from this dimension.

but there was some things he didn't like about being an ex-volleyball player turned restaurant owner. and that was his body.

strong, chiseled plains of muscle used to decorate his chest. he remembered the time girls in his fanclub would scream and squeal to themselves whenever they saw his take his jersey off during practice, but those days were long gone.

would it be shallow of him to say he misses those days?

because now he can't even look himself in the mirror without frowning at his stomach, now more rounded, softer than what he's used to, what he would've liked for himself. and that insecurity only increases tenfold whenever he sees his brother because that's what he used to look like and he misses it. he is entirely not content with how he looks like. he doesn't take his shirt off unless it's necessary and he thought there was no way in hell he was taking it off in front of other people, especially if that person knew him in high school because that meant they knew what he used to look like. if they utter a word about the change in his body size between then and now, he doesn't think he'll be able to pretend that everything's fine, that their comment didn't get to him at all.

but then you enter the picture.

you who kisses his knuckles and the palm of his hand when he tells you about how they ache from making so many onigiris, you who massages his back and knead the muscles in his tense shoulders during more stressful days without him politely asking you to, you who kiss his hairline when he tells you he thinks his hair's starting to recede at his young age purely because of stress.

and it's you who worships his body late at night as tears run down his cheeks.

"'samu, you're perfect, baby."

you suck a hickey into his bicep which he complained about earlier in the night. "too damn big and not enough muscle." he said, but here you are, releasing the skin from your mouth with a loud pop! "they make me feel so safe, 'samu. love how big your arms are. love how they feel around me."

you move further down to his torso, cocking a head at him when he looks away from your lustful gaze. he hadn't taken his shirt off in front of another person in ages, yet here you are, eyeing him up shamelessly in appreciation. you tsk at how his neck is turned and grasp the frame of his face, making him look at you once more, but not before placing an appreciative peck to his jaw. "look at me osamu." and has face is facing you, yet he avoids eye contact.

one of your hands reach to the space in bed beside his head and lean over so you're towering over him. he blushes heavily and you think it's the cutest thing in the world. "osamu, i said look at me." when you utter his name, not his nickname for the second time, he knows better than to disobey you. he gulps and makes eye contact. sweat beads on his temple and cascades down the side of his face as he does that, but he finds it worth it when you smile, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand and coo good boy.

you sit back down on his lap again, running your hands all over his chest, rubbing it against yours. the feeling of your pebbled nipples on his skin leaves him tingling and gives him goosebumps. he shudders and heaves out a heavy sigh. "you know how attractive this is, right?" you softly whisper at him and when he doesn't answer despite all the praise you've given him, you decide to worship his chest. it seemed like the body part he's most insecure about.

you chuckle darkly to yourself before biting down on the skin. "since not many people get to see your chest and your tummy," you tucked a strand behind your ear, looking at him through your eyelashes. "i think i'm gonna have some fun decorating it."

he felt your smirk on his skin as you licked it, kissed it, ran your hands through it, marked it as yours. by the end, there was a bunch of hickies forming a heart-shape by the side of his belly button, right above his right hip.

"c'mon, 'samu, you have to feel yourself more." you smiled, taking his hands and guiding it so both of them would be resting on top of your tits. he got the message and pulled down the sheer cups of your bra and tweaking your nipples between his calloused fingers, working it expertly. "osamu miya, you have to understand you are so." you rolled your hips against him. "fucking." again, but now your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the friction, especially since you were still wearing your favorite lace panties. "hot." by now, you're sure he feels the wet spot on your underwear. its be impossible not to because you're soaked. you wouldn't be surprised if you took them off and found out you soaked through them, completely ruining the undergarment.

"you don't like your thighs either, right?" you murmured, moving down to straddle one of the aforementioned muscle group.

if he was being honest with himself, he felt better about it now that you were continuously showering him with compliments and praises, but he didn't want you to stop so he nodded his head at your question, curious about what magic trick you'll amaze him and pull off this time.

"they're so perfect, 'samu," you said softly, traveling down even lower to straddle one of them. "i just know they can make me cum so easily." brushing a stray piece of hair off of his face as you began to rock yourself on it. osamu's hands drifted to your waist, helping you to ride his thick thigh. the feeling of the light amount of hair on it tickled your clit and made you moan out loud, throwing your head back. "so fuckin' perfect, 'samu. every single inch of you. n-no one can compare, fuck!"

shaking, you lifted yourself off of him and pulled his boxers down. the print of his girth on it did not do a single thing to hide his arousal, straining against the material and staining it with a little wet spot where the tip of his cock was, the grey material of his boxers turning into a darker shade because of the moisture. "now, i assume you're not insecure about this, right?" you chuckled, throwing his underwear over your shoulder, having it land somewhere in the room you did not know, nor care about in the moment. his head shook no while his dick bounced off his stomach the moment it was released from its confines, standing tall in front of you. a few pearls of pre-cum leaking from it and running down his shaft. the veins that decorated it were protruding from all the blood flowing down to the body part, and the tip of his cock was a pink color.

you ached to put it inside your mouth, then when you both grew satisfied, in your cunt.

the bedroom was so warm, moisture in the air, but along with it was the smell of sex and intimacy so you could not find yourself complaining, if you could notice it in the first place. notice how both you and osamu were sweating and breathing heavily. it was dim, the sun still remained high in the sky, about twelve o'clock noon, yet the curtains covered the closed window, only allowing a small amount of natural light in, just enough that you can truly appreciate the man laying down below you, his  body and everything that he is because you weren't lying to make him feel better, you genuinely think that he's perfect.

you lubricated your palm with his pre-cum first, making sure that it wasn't going to be unpleasant and dry when you wrapped it around him, and the moment you were done with that, you wrapped your hand around his cock.

he was so big that your thumb couldn't touch your fingertips.

"so big and all for me, huh?" you thought out loud, sparring a quick glance at osamu who was staring down at you with low-lidded eyes. his hand came up to brush his hair, the tiniest bit moist with sweat, back. "just for you, darling. just for you."

fluttering your eyelashes up at him with feign innocence you told him "that makes me feel special." before starting to jerk him off, moving your hand up and down and twisting it occasionally to let out a lewd moan from him.

after a few strokes with you focusing on the facial expressions he made at every single one of the things you did, you finally took him inside of your mouth. and for him, the best part about it was that he wasn't expecting it as his eyes were closed in pleasure, therefore making him unable to see you licking your lips at the delightful-looking muscle that you held in your palm. the next thing he knew was that the tip of his cock was in something warm and wet.

you planned on taking it slow because of his sheer size. there was no way you could take all of him in your mouth in one go, but it seemed like osamu had other plans because the second his dick made contact with your all-too-welcoming mouth, his hips stuttered upward reflexively and buried himself down your throat making you gag and choke around his length.

you quickly pulled off of him, the same time his eyes opened and began to frantically search for you. "sorry, sorry. didn't mean to." he sat up and attempted to cupped your cheeks in apology, but before he could do that, you have a hand on his chest, pushing him to lay back in the bed. you took a deep breath and shoved your face down on him. you moved back up to address him, "'t's fine, samu. today's all about you, okay? so just sit back and let yourself enjoy everything, yeah?"

you were able to take most of him down your throat, yet there was still a few inches you could not fit in, so you moved your head in tandem with your fist, tight around his pulsing cock.

since this was the first time you and osamu has gotten this intimate, you experimented with him, wanting to see what he likes and what he doesn't. you moved your hand differently than your mouth, you traced the veins decorating his thick cock with the tip of your tongue, but what made him pull your velvety mouth off of him because he wanted to cum inside your pussy was when you sucked on the tip alone, flattening your tongue over the slit as you flicked it while you jerked his length off. the way he moaned and how his eyes rolled to the back of your head were things that you're certain that you'll never ever forget. you could not allow yourself to do so because it was the hottest thing in the world.

you allowed him to lead your body by a grip on your hair so your pussy would be right above his cock and when you're there, you shrugged his hold on you right off. you grabbed his dick by the shaft and rubbed it back and forth through your wet folds while looking down at him through your lashes. "you have any condoms, 'samu?" you dragged the question out, savoring how the tip felt dragging on your slit as you spelt his name out on it o-s-a-m-u's with the opaque white of his precum on your cunt. you did not know whether he was aware of what you just did or not, but regardless, even if he didn't, you're sure it's not gonna be the last time you do it to him. there are plenty of other chances for him to catch such a dirty act. "n-no," he gasped out, responding to your question. "don't-don't have any condoms on me right now."

you hummed a single note, your index finger repeatedly tapping over on the side of your chin as you faked thinking things through before shrugging nonchalantly, as if osamu wasn't close to one hip roll from busting. "guess we just have to go in raw!" and with that, you unceremoniously sank down on him in one go, not even giving yourself time to adjust to his size making you collapse on top of him, sprawled over his chest when your knees gave out on you. "fuck 'samu," you grinned up at him, lolling your tongue out of your mouth.

you began to ride him, bucking your hips in a rhythm that made him shut his eyes tightly, as if willing himself to not cum yet when you just started fucking him. you were still chest-to-chest with him, not having found the strength to sit up just yet, but it didn't seem to have any negative effect on osamu at all. even so, you still wanted to properly ride him. after all, if you could get him to feel this good just by circling your hips that are flush against his, what more could you do when you fucked him properly.

with all you could muster up within you, you pushed at his chest to help yourself get up. your hands stayed there for the stability you needed as you started to bounce on his cock making him throw his head back with a loud groan that made your pussy throb and tighten around his cock. you leaned down to nip at his adam's apple and bite at his neck before your hands wandered all over his torso making goosebumps rise on his skin, before finally settling on his nipples which you rolled between your fingers. you giggled seeing how his bottom lip was bitten red. it made pride swell up in your chest, knowing you've reduced this man, so strong both physically and mentally to a moaning mess under you, so much so that he has to bite his plump lips to stop the noises from escaping his mouth. but it's not like you're just gonna let him do that, steal all those pretty sounds be made away from you. after all, you've worked for it.

you crashed your lips against his messily, successfully making his teeth let go of his bottom lip and it made you smile as you pulled away. a string of saliva connected the two of you, but it quickly snapped away when you distanced yourself. it was dripping down your body now, down the valley of your breasts, mixing with the sheen there that is your sweat. "just like that, osamu. lemme hear those cute little noises you make, yeah?" you cupped his face and ran your thumb over his mouth. he took the initiative to take the appendage and suck and run his tongue all over it. "that's it, that's a good boy." you mewled sweetly at him. "deserves a prize."

a smirk grew on your lips you changed up the movement of your hips. instead of just moving up and down on the shaft of his cock, you also circled them, and if that wasn't enough, every time your public bone met his, you'd grind down harshly, making sure that not a single centimeter of his dick was neglected.

"fuck" he gasped out, releasing the thumb from his mouth with a lewd pop. "have 'ta, have 'ta c-cum. please," the last word came out as a whimper.

with the digit that's moist from your boyfriend's saliva, your hand wandered down to rub at your clit, adding to the stimulation of his trimmed, dark-colored happy trail to make the coil deep in your stomach tighten further. "'m right there with you, baby boy. c'mon 'samu, cum for me." you breathed out.

he was still against you, cock buried far inside, damn-near kissing your cervix as he came, toes curled, thighs flexed, and with one hand gripping the bedsheets, the other having a bruising vice-like hold on your hip. you knew it would leave a mark that'll last until the next day, and you couldn't help the way you felt giddy at that fact, already planning out your next outfit to be paired with your favorite low rise jeans to show it off.

the feeling of his cum painting your walls white, each spurt going straight to your womb was heavenly. warm and just so, so right. it made you cum right after him, holding on to his sides with a silent scream as he kept gently rocking you on him, letting you ride your high while he was calming down from his.

you found yourself halfway unconscious when you were done, capable of nothing but plopping down on the space beside him, still breathing heavily and erratically, the same way he was. that was the only thing that could be heard throughout the room, until he spoke, breaking the silence. "ya know, that was the first time i was a sub... first time someone really.. assured me as well." he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lazily pulled you closer to him. "usually i'm the one to reassure someone their body is good so i just wanted to tell ya tha' i 'ppreciate it."

a small but genuine smile was on his face as he looked down at you and you returned the gesture, placing your hand on the side of his face and stroking his cheekbones. "'course 'samu. you deserve praise as much as anyone, yeah?"

i get: reblog

you get: a coupon for onigiri miya

[weebnotheree]

ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ [Genshin]

(Oh, and I've never played Genshi Impact before, i don't know anything so don't get mad at me. But I'm trying so. *edited* so i ve played some and wow)

(i get these ideas from playlists I listen to; I was inspired by them so yuh, there will be music)

__________

(mostly all the villains I could find)

Some background on you:

I wouldn't say you are lovesick but you're just a really big flirt. And ever since you met Scaramouche you flirt beyond how much you usually do...and every chance you get when you meet people along the way.

Your appearance, everything is white. Except u can pick your skin color if u want. You're like a spirit but not exactly. You're there but no one can see you. You're also a vampire. A God. Like Lord Kusanali. Perses' name means "the Destroyer" or "the Ravager" from the Greek words persô and perthô. So I'm just gonna call you The Ravenger or one of those. That's what Lord Kusanali calls you. Just like she calls Scaramouche ¨The Balladeer.¨ You're the same height as him. 5,4 or 5,5. You really wear different things, it depends. Your hair gets long, that also depends.  You can take the form of anything (shapeshift). 

During Chapter III, where Scaramouche serves as the boss battle in the form of Shouki no Kami, an artificial god. After his defeat, he fell into a comatose state and was hidden away by Lesser Lord Kusanali. {Irminsul is a silver-white tree whose roots stretch down into the Abyss.} The Sumeru. Which is where Lesser Lord Kusanali sent Scaramouche. (i think...TELL ME IF I'M WRONG) Which was a bad idea. I guess she forgot that She sent M/n there. I know you're asking ¨How did she manage to send him to the Abyss or the Sumeru?¨Well that's a story between you two and let's just say..it felt like you meant nothing to her but that wasn't the case.

You're being awakened after [Meanwhile while you were in a slumber she changed the way everyone saw things. There are 11 Harbingers. But there used to be 12. M/n was one of them.]

M/n. the man of all. Even the others dare not cross that line with you. Well...unless they forgot about you..or can't see you..or feel your presence...yet

Unknown God. you're friends with her. You've both worked alongside each other for a long time.

Enjou. ???(well u know him right? But in this story is gonna be different)

Decarabian. On your side. Your story with him is still unknown lol

The Old Lawrence. Although you don't like how he enslaved his people and used them for battle, you guys come to understanding.

Gold. She adores you. Not exactly wanting to be like you but the type to follow you everywhere. She knows some of your power like she can sense whenever you are back or there. Well, the others can too..in their own way.

Albedo's Impostor (Primordial Albedo). You bumped into him while visiting the City Of Freedom. He's loyal to you. And will protect you at any cost even if you tell him you don't need help. You're story with him; is unknown for now.

Childe. He admires you. Sometimes he flirts with you to get his way but ends up losing because you're always the better one at it. He follows you; kinda like a guard to you.

Signora. She likes you but won't admit it. She fell in love with a knight but he ended up dying while she was away, she found out when she came back. She was mad, sad, and grieving. She used her life's flame to kill monsters and demons, scarring her own body in the process. That's when she met him. M/n. He cared for her and did everything he could. So she fell in love again. Time went by...you were missing(not exactly) but gone. You did say you were leaving but were gonna come back. She waited and waited..soon finding out by Childe that you had been sealed away by Kusanali...(in the Sumeru) so she searched and searched for you. Later being recruited by a Harbinger, and she suppressed her power with a Cryo Delusion. From then on, Signora became a loyal subject to the Tsaritsa.

[thetorchwoodarchive]

Introducing Gwen Bash: 3 Bash 3 Gwen (In 3D)

(But We Mean Gwen Party Not The Other Thing)

Gwen Cooper Day, when the Torchwood fandom celebrates Gwen Cooper, Role Model for our Daughters, is held annually on March 16th! In honor of this joyous event, we have curated fic recs that are Gwen Focused and Gwen Postive Stories!

This is last year’s round up! And the original list! Like every year, we have stories that are Gwen focused, showcase Gwen being a BAMF, and/or just generally showcase and celebrate Gwen’s character! Also while you’re here, check out our rarepair fest which wraps next month.

Tripping on the stairs by Beleriandings (Gwen&Jack, Gwen&Ianto, Gwen&Jack&Owen&Tosh&Ianto, JackIanto | complete | 5232 | G)

Sometimes, when you work for a busy secret organisation handling unknown alien objects, accidents happen.

Auld Lang Syne by BricklingGhost (TeamGwenee) (Gwen&Ianto&Tosh&Jack&Owen, GwenRhys | complete | 1870 | Not Rated)

Gwen did not fear ghosts. Except for the exact ghosts she wanted to see above all else.

A Gift from Me to You by Paycheckgurl (Gwen&Ianto, GwenRhys, JackIanto | complete | 1628 | T)

Gwen and Ianto happen to have birthdays within days of each other. The birthday gifts Gwen gets Ianto throughout the years.

My Peace Has Always Depended on the Ashes in My Wake by Paycheckgurl (Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto, GwenRhys, Gwen&Team | complete | 6281 | T)

There was a woman in a long coat on the hilltop. The coat was leather and a dark colour. She had dark hair and a solemn expression. Large eyes both sad and hardened trailed forward. She held a detonator, as fire broke out in front of her.

“This is for you. All of you,” she said to herself.

There was a young man watching her. Dressed in a suit. Hidden behind the brush, he emerged. His pristine suit now disheveled.

“What are you doing, Gwen?” he asked.

“Ianto,” she whispered. “You need to go.”

He stood unmoving as the fire raged out in the distance

Ain’t No Lie Baby (Bi Bi Bi) by Paycheckgurl (Gwen&Jack&Ianto&Tosh&Owen | complete | 2018 | T)

Gwen Cooper knew she was bisexual. Now if only she could get other people to know it too.

Death Is a Lonely Business by Paycheckgurl (GwenRhys, OwenTosh, JackIanto, Gwen&Ianto, Gwen Cooper & Owen Harper & Ianto Jones & Toshiko Sato | complete | 2506 | T)

Gwen has her team back. She just wishes her subconscious would let her remember that.

No time like the present by Beleriandings (Gwen&Jack, Gwen&Ianto, JackIanto | complete | 1964 | G)

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Gwen Cooper… have you been secretly planning to come out of retirement?”

“Not on your life,” said Gwen. “But I have been doing a bit of… freelancing, I guess you could call it.”

Now You're Waging War Again by UniverseOnHerShoulders (Gwen&Jack | complete | 2479 | T)

Jack has a very important mission: getting sent to prison. Unfortunately for Gwen Cooper, she's not aware of that mission, and has to deal with his newfound kleptomania, kidnapping tendencies, and mysterious secrecy...

Dodo Verse by MonsterMince (GwenJohn, GwenRhys, GwenJohnRhys, JohnRhys, JackIanto, IantoJohn, OwenJohn, OwenTosh, Ianto&Rhys | series, WIP | 39,138 | E, M)

Five years after the events of COE, Gwen still misses her team and what she had. It's not much of a life without them, and when Rhys takes Anwen away until Gwen's willing to move on, of course John Hart turns up with an offer that's too tempting to refuse: A way to raise Ianto from the dead.

Brilliant and Beautiful by MonsterMince (GwenSuzie, JackIanto, IantoTosh, JackIantoTosh, OwenKatie | WIP | 29534 | T)

The late 19th century is when everything changes. And Suzie's team of well-meaning, dogged, caring, highly-skilled and idiotic romantics is ready.

For someawkwardprose's prompt: Victorian Torchwood but Suzie and Gwen are the Torchwood lesbians, Ianto as Gwen's little brother and the archivist, Tosh as techie, and Owen as doctor. Then they find Jack

You, the only light in this room by Beleriandings (GwenIanto, JackIanto, GwenJackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 36135 | E)

Before Rhys proposes, Gwen's determined to tell him the truth about Owen, if not about Torchwood, so they're on the same page. But it doesn't go as planned, and she finds herself in the Hub.

Luckily, Ianto is still there, recovering after a mission with Tosh, heartsick and lonely. Together, the two of them are able to find a little peace and comfort, and to start to heal. But when Jack returns, they're forced to reckon with what they are now to one another, and what they want the future to hold.

Hello Cold World by BricklingGhost (TeamGwenee) (GwenRhys, Gwen&Owen&Ianto&Tosh, Gwen&Jack&Owen&Tosh&Ianto | complete | Not Rated)

Gwen goes looking for something. She doesn't know what it is, until she's found it.

And the open wound left between us by Beleriandings (Gwen&Jack, JackIanto | complete | 592 | G)

Gwen doesn't want to be sent back to Wales, or to leave Jack alone.

healer by shazgranger (GwenRhys, GwenOwen | complete | 613 | Not Rated)

gwen reflects on her life so far with torchwood

(set between day one and ghost machine)

Three Sided Polygon by Flamingbluepanda (GwenIantoRhys | complete | 5699 | T)

When a dinner invitation becomes a thing, Gwen, Rhys, and Ianto discover some things about themselves and what family is.

(18 Vignettes about a life well loved)

You’re so Beautiful by aliciajazmin (GwenTosh | complete | 358 | T)

Gwen Cooper waits for Toshiko Sato to arrive home.

going speechless by aliciajazmin (GwenJackIanto, GwenRhys | complete | 273 | T)

Gwen Cooper will always have her boys to support her.

Horns and Horniness by aliciajazmin (GwenJohnToshRhys, GwenRhys, GwenTosh, JohnTosh, GwenJohn | complete | 6.2K | M)

Gwen Cooper gets sprayed with an alien chemical that makes her more horny than usual... in more ways than one. It brings forth some feelings that she's been suppressing for too long.

Hold on to your life (like I hold on to your hand) by Beleriandings (GwenIanto | complete | 558 | Gen)

After Lisa, Gwen knows Ianto needs someone. Maybe they both do.

[peaceloveandstarrs]

John/Ringo 17?

to distract.

I whipped this up just now, hope it does the prompt justice!

John can tell Ringo is in his head again. The normally effervescent, happy-go-lucky man is quiet and reserved, only giving one- or two-word answers when someone asks him a question. And in the studio, he keeps to himself, seemingly content to let the others do their own thing without him. He sits behind his kit, smoking cigarette after cigarette, sometimes drinking. Paul, George, Mal, George Martin, they all ask if he's okay. And of course, Ringo says he is. Just an “off day”. He'll be fine. But John knows the truth. Ringo isn't okay, at least not now. After all, he's grown to know this Ringo all too well.

But he can't do what he wants to do while the others are around. He can't do the one thing he knows will distract Ringo from those voices in his head, the ones that tell him the band would be better with someone different. A drummer who could actually sing (John happens to love Ringo's singing voice, but he knows Ringo is insecure about it) and write songs. Someone better-looking. The voices that tell him that he doesn't matter. So while they're in the studio, John gives subtle affection when he can. An encouraging smile and praise after a take. A gentle pat on the back when nobody is looking. It isn't what he wants to do, but he can't do it in public. Not when he knows the others will be disgusted with him. Scouser men don't hug, much less what John wants to do. Not when something as simple as this is illegal. It pains him, but John is very good at hiding his emotions. He's done it all his life. Maybe he should go into real acting.

So when the session ends, they all leave separately. Ringo goes first, followed by George, then John a bit later after he and Paul finished some lyrics. John heads out when the song is deemed decent, going to the flat he shares with Ringo. Everyone thinks they're flatmates, living together out of convenience and not that kind of love. Fine with John, though sometimes he wishes he could be more open with it. Sometimes. On days when his struggles with his sexuality aren't overwhelming, that is. But that's a story for another day. Right now, Ringo is John's concern.

“Ringo?” John asks once he's inside, putting his keys in a small bowl on a table by the door.

Silence.

He goes into the living room, expecting Ringo to be on the sofa with a finger of whiskey. He looks over the back of the faded brown couch. Nothing. Ringo isn't in the kitchen, outside, anywhere John looks. And he searches the flat like a detective on the hunt for clues. So he goes to the only place left, their bedroom. He finds the door closed. Mystery solved. Just call him Sherlock Holmes. Or Sherlock Lennon, if he's being serious. John shakes his head, pushing the silly thought out of his mind. Now isn't the time to joke. He knows Ringo is far down the rabbit hole if he's closed himself in their bedroom. His heart sinks somewhere around the region of his stomach. He wishes he could silence those demons in Ringo's head, get the man to see that's just as good as the rest of the band. That they'd be lost without his steady backbeat, and, if he's honest with himself, his maturity. Ringo is the glue. The band would fall apart without him. He carefully knocks on the door.

“Richie? 'm home,” John says.

“'s good.”

“Can I come in for a sec?”

“Sure.”

So John opens the door and goes in, and what he sees is like a knife to his heart. He knows Ringo is small, but now he's positively miniscule. He's curled in on himself in as tight of a ball as he can manage. He hasn't been crying, at least John doesn't think so. But he can still see Ringo's hurting. And when Ringo sits up to half-heartedly greet him and John gets a look at those bright blue eyes, it's like someone's twisting the knife.

There's so much pain in those eyes, a silent pleading for John to do something about it. To make the voices go away. There's always a sort of sadness in Ringo's eyes, but now it's deeper. Like it goes all the way down to his soul. And around Ringo, John knows he can be open and vulnerable. He trusts the man, after all. He can be kind and gentle. He doesn't have to put up this tough, manly front. So he sits beside Ringo and opens his arms.

“I've got you,” John whispers as Ringo settles against his chest.

Ringo clings to John almost desperately as John's arms slide around the smaller man's body. They sit there for a moment, and Ringo ends up on John's lap. He doesn't mind. Not at all. After a few long, quiet moments, John pulls back, tilts Ringo's chin up, and leans in. Their eyes shut simultaneously, and Ringo tilts his head to the side. He knows what John is going to do. The one thing he's needed all day.

The one thing that can silence the voices better than anything, even alcohol.

John leans in and kisses Ringo softly, his thin lips pressed lovingly against Ringo's full, plush ones. He lets it linger. It's chaste, nothing sexual behind it. But as good of a songwriter as John is, the kiss can say what Ringo needs to hear more than even the most beautiful of prose. It's the perfect distraction.

Because for that moment, it's silent in Ringo's mind. No thoughts of being inferior. Or how the band would be better with a different drummer. Or anything. There's just one thought in his mind right now.

John.

[baynton]

tagged by @blackbeardsblanketfort​ - thank you 🥰

8 shows to get to know me better

1. bbc ghosts

this is where the mat obsession started. it actually started as a ben/patcap obsession, funnily enough, but within mere weeks of being back on tumblr i had spiralled into mat insanity, never to return. for real though, this show is so good. i love it so much. i love all the characters. patcap is real and i love it. i don’t really need to say anymore about it since i think everyone who follows me here has at least SEEN ghosts. 

2. spy (2011)

spy is so important to me. it gave me chris pitt-goddard. he is me, i am him. i love him more than i love life itself. one of the best mat characters to ever exist. thomas thorne could never. the rest of the show is fine, the other characters are alright (i am soft on tim though) but chris MAKES the show. the things he comes out with are iconic. plus. without chris, the iconic chris x joe ship would have never been born (which would have been an absolute TRAGEDY) 

3. reluctant persuaders

because this is about shows rather than specifically television shows i am including reluctant persuaders, hit bbc radio show. it’s funny, it’s iconic, all the characters are phenomenal. even if mat wasn’t in it, i would still love it. but he is, and he plays joe starling, the soggiest wettest most pathetic mat character to ever exist. my mans is insulted by everyone every episode. they all comment on how pathetic he is all the time. how sad and lonely he is. how he looks about 10 years older than he actually is. it’s wonderful. and, of course, without joe, the iconic chris x joe ship would have never been born. tragic. but it’s ok because they’re here and i was here to coin the ship so we can all heave a sigh of relief. 

4. you me and the apocalypse 

okay, you might be sensing a theme here. and yes, okay, the theme is that they are all mat shows (i WILL be including at least one non-mat show though, never fear). but this one gave us two PHENOMENAL mats. the twins. THE twins. of all time. cersei and jaime were usurped by ariel and jamie (idk why iconic twins always have a jamie but it’s NOTED). this show is also just objectively brilliant. it’s not like spy where it would suck without the mat character. this show is just great. 

5. the wrong mans

i can’t talk about mat shows without THIS one. because mat not only wrote and starred in this beautiful wonderful show, it’s also iconic for the soppiest wettest mat character we get to see on tv. (the only one who holds a candle here is william from quacks but.. i think sammy takes the cake). he’s a cute tiny baby and i love him dearly.

6. inside no.9

okay, so this one genuinely doesn’t count as a mat show, but mat is very beautiful in the few minutes he has in that one episode and so, here u go, mat gif. i loved this show long before i descended into mat madness, and for good reason! it’s brilliant, inspired, genuinely incredible. and watching it again with @the-20th-century-girl has been an absolute joy. looking at reece with her (and yes, okay, SOMETIMES i look at steve and his lovely legs too) is always a good time. i love almost all the episodes. anthology series are fucking fantastic but this one takes the cake. i love black mirror, but black mirror wishes it was in9. 

7. ted lasso

this show is absolutely fantastic and i went absoltuely insane watching it over the space of about 5 days. i was then left with the last 4 or so episodes to watch as they came out, which was brilliant. i got to experience the end with everyone else, lol. but seriously, this show has some fantastic characters and storylines and character GROWTH. jamie tartt at the start of s1 vs jamie tartt by the end of s3 is just. INCREDIBLE. the whole nate the great arc. like holy shit this show went HARD and it paid off.

8. bbc merlin

going RIGHT back to my roots with this one. while glee got me onto tumblr and twitter back in the day, it was merlin that got me INVOLVED in fandom. i learnt to gif because of this show, i went to my first fandom event because of this show (bradley and tom’s football game), i made my first group of fandom friends because of this show. it’s still one i go back to and rewatch every now and then. sometimes i still read merthur fic when i think about a Specific Fic i remember i used to love. i will always have a special place in my heart for this show fr.

right! there we go, that’s it! tagging: @matbaynton, @toomanyfandomsneverenoughtime, @the-illuminated-one​, @the-20th-century-girl​ and @catboyrightsdefender​ but no pressure if you don’t want to 🫡

[goldenteaset]

…So I finished La Salut…there were things I really wanted to enjoy but couldn’t, and things I didn’t enjoy at all (sometimes things don’t need explaining!). And then suddenly the emotions worked again and I actually cried, repeatedly! I now have even more thoughts about “divine mantles” and how various characters in Virche learn to embody or discard them…but 0 coherence. ^^;

That said, I couldn’t get into Adolphe that much. I felt for him, but it’s the same feeling as from a distant acquaintance that you see sometimes on his way to Job at Location. There's a lot of implications to him that are interesting: how he's structured his whole life around Ceres and what that means for his sanity, his horror at Relivers, etc., but the writers are so committed to him being Normal (tm) that those aren't touched on as much. This is what happens when you put Ankou and everyone else right next to him. Poor guy…his more snide faces are extremely good though. Hopefully later playthroughs will make him more endearing!

...Actually I do have more thoughts, oops. First the "aw man :(" and then the "YAAAAAY" under the cut:

The "Aw, Man :(" which isn't "bad" so much as disappointing:

Please imagine with me a version of this story where Ankou is the God/Watchman of Death he proclaims himself to be. Imagine everyone else, terrified of dying, suddenly being able to ask about the Afterlife, even if the answers are vague. (Can't have everyone get too hyped to die!) Wouldn't that have been unique and gothic-ly fun? I still like the actual answer on some level, but I wanted this too.

On that note, an actual dislike: I viscerally hate Ankou being embarrassed about acting the part of Watchman of Death. It felt born from a place of love for the Drifter, Yves and Ceres, so for him to feel so negatively toward it? Awful.

Less awful and more confusing: Ankou says he uses "smoke bombs", but none of his previous exits imply smoke. All the more reason to pretend it's only canon here!

The "Queen's genes" (ha, rhyme) thing really did amount to nothing, huh? I don't understand why it's here and that rankles.

Every time some variant of the line "Ceres is a plant/lycoris" comes up I feel like the Six-Fingered Man from The Princess Bride while Inigo Montoya does his revenge speech ad nauseam. "STOP SAYING THAT!"

Seriously though, I can handle Ceres being like a lycoris, akin to, etc. But something about "is a plant" is so inherently funny/brain-breaking that I'm no longer thinking of all this as a metaphor, but an actual, physical part of her, and it just doesn't gel. ;_;

It feels like there were two plots going on in this route: The Royal Family and Adolphe VS Ankou, and frankly I wound up more invested in the former. This isn't the first time it's happened, it won't be the last, but I still was drumming my fingers a little waiting for things to switch back.

I was really hoping the bouquet confession would lead to an option to choose Adolphe or Ankou (or both), because it felt like Adolphe was passing the baton over to Ceres in that moment. But nope! :(

Yves and Lucas' mini-endings in this route's Salvation ending were so wonderful I now have 0 desire to play their actual Salvation routes. Oops!

The "YAAAAAY", which I hope is self-explanatory:

Dahut's reveal? Literally iconic, as was the final scene between him and Salome. Loved his revenge, loved his friendship toward Nadia, loved how he unwittingly gave Lucas the hope he needed to make his first steps toward freedom, etc.

All the love interests working together to save Ceres! Also self-explanatory.

Adolphe and Ankou's banter and arguments, down to their voices being similar, was so funny and also sad post-reveal. It reminds me a lot of Archer and Shirou in F/SN's Unlimited Blade Works route, but better crafted I think. YMMV.

Capuchine KABOOM! (I find him rather morbidly cute, so his frustrated scream pre-explosion gave me both catharsis and a weird sort of cuteness aggression. Again, Scien, again!)

On a more serious note, Scien and Lucas having to interact and him being able to help Lucas on the road to recovery was really sweet. They were both great in this route.

Hugo/Yves are my OTP now, actually. That love realization from Hugo was just too good, ditto them traveling together. Please let there be scenes of their road trip in the fandisc!

The aforementioned inconsistency and embarrassment aside, Ankou being revealed as Adolphe was masterfully done. Loved the Drifter planting those stories of him in the past and then those stories helping to keep Ceres alive in the future. The images of him collapsing among the ever-growing lycorises along with the voice acting made me cry!

THE BOUQUET. All that subtle build-up over the routes (this one included) culminating in that one gorgeous CG. Ankou choosing of his own accord to take up the mantle of Watchman of Death, fulfilling that now-old fairytale and closing the cycle for good. ;v;

Hearing Lucas' voice post-ending also made me cry, but happily this time. He's alive and well! He's free! Nadia has a cane now! AAAAAA

Scien ripping up the time travel research letter. Yes. YES. I don't know how to explain it, but something about the way he's written, whether antagonistic or anti-heroic, just gives me such joy.

Ceres flustering Adolphe at the end, and their kiss. Again, I still don't quite buy their romance, but like Ankou I'm glad she's able to smile from the bottom of her heart.

...And that's it! Now to choose whose Salvation route to do first, Matthis or Scien's.