#i’m so exasperated rn

[pixlatedvampire]

I’d like to personally thank Joey and Anya for their roles in the iconic "that’s my wife!" scene. Making it possible for this comic and all my headcanons about how yennefer and jaskier are silly w each other to be practically canon ^-^ 🌸

I think that yennefer can strategically be so so nice to jaskier as a form of warfare as a treat 💕☺️

[najeeharris]

Iron sharpens iron…

[dollsuguru]

just thought of the premise for the professor!geto fic & i’m excited hehehehe <3

[willow-lark]

people who don’t use headphones on public transport i am killing you killing you killing you

[un-lawliet]

“He Knows”

— in which you’re avoiding Gojo and he wants you to tell him why.

(or i’m coping with rejection rn pls god help me)

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Huh?!” You jump back, almost dropping your pen as you turn to see frowning Gojo Satoru staring down at you expectingly, the usually relaxed demeanour he wore crumbling in the slight dip in his brow.

It wasn’t a question, Gojo stated it as fact, and if you looked hard enough, the downwards tilt of his lips could tell you about his complete (and utter) disapproval in his conclusion.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

You were running, sprinting even away from your problems.

Avoid, avoid avoid.

You refused to let it come to this, cornered in a library with Gojo Satoru, a man you definitely were not avoiding, nope not at all.

“You.” Gojo leans down, capturing your eyes in his, “Are avoiding me.”

And you’re leaning back, in your seat, away from him. Attempting to create any distance between the pair of you, unable to stand the giddy rush of joy that the proximity generated.

A moment passed.

And then another.

And deep down you pleaded, with conviction similar to that of a desperate man crying out for God, that the floor would fall in, taking you with it and allowing you some leeway to escape.

Gojo cocks his head, blue eyes scanning your panicked face before he sighs and stands back up again, resuming his position of elevation before you.

“Why?” His voice lacked the sentiment of interrogation, he couldn’t find in himself to dwindle on anger, he missed you and he selfishly wanted you to know it, to feel guilt in your mistreatment.

“Gojo.” You started, moving your eyes away from his face to glare at the book your reading instead.

Were you sweating? You felt like you were. Oh God.

Jujutsu sorcerers were not supposed to fall for another, it was an unspoken rule shared between sorcerers.

An unspoken rule that constantly plagued your thoughts when you were near Gojo. And so, you decided confidently to yourself that you could easily get over this silly personal flaw. Surely it would be easy.

But Gojo isn’t an easy man, and falling out of love with him followed that damn trend.

At every turn of your head, your gaze found his, longing for him to catch your eyes and reassure you with his presence, boisterous, like how he handles everything. And at night, when you tossed and turned, the cruel Summer heat forcing you to wither in your bed, you wondered if he could ever dream of you like how you longed for him.

It was pathetic really.

And so yes maybe you were avoiding him.

But you were doing it with good intentions!

You weren’t about to burden him with your childish wish for his unreturned feelings. Not in this world, under these circumstances, not when he was already holding the weight of being the strongest.

“Is there something bothering ya?” Gojo paused, “Cause y’know you only have t’ ask, and I could take care of it.”

And you wanted to cry.

Because Gojo Satoru is loud, and unabashedly himself, but he cares in silence, through actions hidden behind a loud laugh and a cocky grin.

“No, no it’s nothing really.” You had to do something, to say anything.

“Nothing? I haven’t seen you in days Y/N.”

“I’ve just been busy…” You mumble, fidgeting awkwardly in your chair.

“Oh yea? With what? Reading?” Gojo scoffed, his shoulders dropping in poorly hidden exasperation.

Your cheeks burned as you nodded, unable to form words, “And missions too I guess.”

“I asked Yaga, you haven’t been on a mission since September.”

Fuck.

“Preparations for missions then.” You cringed at yourself, lowering your head in the shame of being caught in your own shitty lie.

“Come on Y/N cut the bullshit.” Gojo all but whines, “I know somethings off, I know you.” You look at him then, his shoulder slumped, and face pouting, and you felt horrible.

“It’s really nothing Gojo I swear.”

“See there!” Gojo jumped, his eyes wide with determination, a look you only ever see on him in the middle of a mission. “You called me Gojo, you never do that, it’s Satoru to you, just Satoru.”

“You’re upset because I’m not calling you by your first name?” You asked, unable to break eye contact with him.

“You use to call me Satoru.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

You had to get out of there, the fact that your confession was all but resting on your tongue scared you beyond words, and you moved to pick up your stuff.

Then you felt his hand touch yours and your froze.

“What’s going on inside that head of your Y/N.” He was so close, so, so close. You could feel the warmth of his chest that was almost pressed against your arm, “Please.”

And you crumbled, because your weak and you could never escape the way you felt when he was near you, how you could barley hold yourself back from leaning into his chest and breathing in his scent.

“Satoru.” You whispered, your confession hushed, your head down and eyes closed, “I think I like you.”

And silence.

Silence.

Silence

And you were running walking away, avoid, avoid, avoid, your feet moving fast, abandoning the books you had brought because oh my god you had just told Satoru Gojo that you liked him and that was stupid, you’re stupid, everything was stupid and-

You were pulled back into him, effortlessly turned around so that your face was in his chest, the sound of his chuckling encasing your shameful state.

“The fuck are you laughing for?” You protested, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle your way out of his embrace, his arms circling you close.

“You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed y’know?”

And you had to hold yourself back from punching him right then and there, because of course Satoru Gojo knew you liked him, of course he was teasing you.

Nothing can escape those damn eyes, and he’s smarter than he lets on.

“You’re such an asshole I hope you know that, as soon as I leave this room I am never speaking to-’

Your rambles were cut short when you felt a tiny kiss on your forehead, and you finally looked at him fully, only to see the softest expression on his face as he looked down at you.

“I think I like you too Y/N.” He winked, his hand tracing the indent of your spine as he pulled you back into a hug, rocking you gently.

And you hugged him back, finally allowing yourself the closure you had dreamed of for months.

End.

feel free to leave a request !!

masterlist here <3

( authors note: do we all wanna hear a mini rant about how the girl i fucking adore just got a boyfriend and my heart is in SHAMBLES- anyway i wrote this to cope pls enjoy,,, i love u thank u for reading have a great day <3 )

[ryukatters]

9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men

pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader

a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔

“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me," your best friend scoffs. 

It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean. 

"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."

"They're...nice."

He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”

You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow. 

"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."

"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects." 

You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated. 

He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right. 

"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"'s fine."

"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”

You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes. 

"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?" 

You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance. 

"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.

"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks. 

"I do," he professes without missing a single beat. 

"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?

"Because I've felt it," he hums. 

“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?

“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.

“I…”

“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”

That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.

“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”

Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder. 

There’s a pregnant pause.

When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain. 

“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”

You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours. 

“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?

Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.

“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”

Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[froggibus]

Pankration - Wriothesley

Pairing: Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 900

Summary: Wriothesley is not impressed after you get hurt fighting in the Pankration Ring

CW: injury, reader gets stabbed, fighting, pre established relationship, soft! Wriothesley, mostly just fluffy hurt/comfort, probably some spoilers for 4.1

hello it is 230am and I just did the 4.1 quests for like ~4hrs and now I have major brain rot for this man. something about him just makes my little frog brain go feral. i haven’t finished the quest yet so apologies if something isn’t correct or if I misspelled something also not taking reqs rn but if yall have some ideas for this man i think i could take them

————

The familiar sound of heavy boot steps echoes down the halls, reverberating into the infirmary. Sigewinne gives you a wide eyed look but the panic fails to register, drowned out by the pain.

You writhe on the bed, forcing yourself into a sitting position. Sigewinne stands at your side, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.

As soon as Wriothesley enters the room, you can see he’s disgruntled. Your boyfriend says nothing as he locks eyes with you, trodding towards the end of the bed.

“What happened?”

Sigewinne tries to pipe up first. “Y/n got injured fighting in the Pankration Ring.”

Wriothesley’s features soften for a moment as he looks at the Melusine. “Sigewinne, could you leave us for a moment?”

She bows her head and scurries out of the room, as if sensing the anger radiating off of him. You clench your jaw and try to keep your eyes on random objects in the room, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/n.”

You don’t look at him, staring at an empty crate in the corner of the room.

“Y/n,” his tone is harsh.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to make eye contact. Dark blue eyes look at you, partially in concern and partially in frustration. You shrink beneath his gaze.

“What were you thinking?” He sighs in exasperation, “the ring is for fighters. It’s for people who need a little extra stimulation in their lives—it’s not for people like you.”

You nod along with his words, shoulders slumping. Your stomach still aches from where you were grazed earlier in the day, all of your muscles serving as a sore reminder to your bitter loss.

You had just wanted to try it, just one time. You were put against another amateur fighter and you thought the fight would be easy enough. You were on the verge of winning, too. Another minute or so and the fight would have been yours.

And then your opponent slashed at you with a piece of scrap metal they’d welded to a ring and your chances of winning dropped to 0.

“I would have won,” you mumble bitterly. “I would have won if he hadn’t cheated.”

Wri’s eyes widen. “Cheated how?”

From the way his eyes darken, you almost regret mentioning it. “No weapons, no serious injuries, no killing. Those are the rules.”

“Yes.” He agrees.

You lift up the hem of your shirt and reveal the gauze around your waist. “He—he brought some sort of shank into the ring, and just as I was about to win…”

You don’t need to finish speaking for him to get the picture. Wriothesley sucks in a breath, shutting his eyes to gain his composure. He looks almost scary right now, his blue eyes almost black.

His tone is gentler now. “Do you remember who it was?”

You shake your head, “no, but I’m sure the promoter does.”

He considers this for a moment before excusing himself out of the room. You let yourself slump down into the bed, the pain growing worse as the medication Sigewinne gave you wears off. A few tears threaten to spill and your poor attempts to hold them back do nothing.

Wriothesley returns a few minutes later, a somber look on his face. “He’ll be dealt with,” he assures you, and leaves it at that.

You nod, worried that if you try to speak, the tears will come pouring out. You bite your lip to keep them back.

Wri settles on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“I-I—” You don’t manage to say anything before the tears burst out.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap, holding you against his chest. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, petting your head, “I’m so sorry.”

He keeps a secure grip on you, being extra careful not to apply too much pressure to where you were grazed. He rocks you in his arms in an attempt to soothe you, calming you down from your sudden outburst.

He keeps you in his lap even when Sigewinne comes back into the room. The nurse holds out a small white container for you to take.

“These will help with the pain, but you need to see me every day so I can change your bandages.”

You swallow and go to speak, but Wriothesley does it for you. “Thank you, Sigewinne. I’ll be taking y/n back with me now.”

The Melusine grants you a kind smile. “Feel better now.”

You swing your feet over the side of the bed and brace yourself to stand, but Wri has other plans for you. He scoops you up bridal style into his arms as if you weigh nothing.

“You—you don’t need to carry me.”

He scoffs, “and let you walk right now?”

You sigh. He has a point.

It’s not a long walk back to his office, but between the exhaustion of the day and the soothing feeling of his arms around you, you can’t help but drift off.

Wriothesley looks down at your sleeping form and smiles. He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist falling asleep if he carried you—he’s just glad that you didn’t notice it took twice as long to get back to his office as it normally does.

He lays you down in his bed and kisses your forehead. “Rest up, baby.”

[moonstruckme]

Ik you're probably busy rn and you don't have to write this ir you don't wanna-

So remus with. Sensitive reader? Like i, personally, get teary any time someone yells at me or is angry ot condescending and i feel like even though Remus is th sweetest person ever when it comes to scolding, being reprimanded by my favourite person would so make me cry.

And we all know that Remus can get abit hot headed around the full moon so maybe smth along hurt/comfort w that ❤️

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: weed, mention of vomit (no description of any kind, just a brief reference)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 755 words

You steal the blunt from between Remus’ lips, holding out your bag of crisps as a trade. 

He accepts, side-eyeing you in a way you choose to interpret as playful. Although you know the days leading up to the full moon are hell for Remus, neither of you mind this part so much. You’d prepared last weekend, stocking your shared flat with lavish quantities of chocolate and weed which you allow yourself to sample as payment for your efforts and general good-girlfriend standing. You think you’ve done a decent job; your boyfriend is lax on the couch next to you, the space between his brows wonderfully smooth and free of the wrinkles that accrue there when he’s having one of his migraines. 

“Alright, you’re done after that,” he says as you inhale.

“What?” You let your mouth drop open in faux indignation, a giggle building in your chest. “No fair.” 

“Mhm.” He crunches noisily on a crisp, mindless of your pouting. “You’ve had enough, dove.” 

“Fine."

He leans forward for the blunt and you hold it for him as wraps his lips around it, exhaling the smoke with an insouciant expertise. He reaches forward to take it from between your fingers, but you move quickly, leaning away from his reach to take a swift hit. You imagine the smoke curling and winding in your lungs as you suck in a great breath. You blow it out the corner of your mouth, your lips twisting into a grin. 

Remus isn’t smiling. 

“Are you serious?”

His tone is incredulous, and your giggly high fades as you realize he’s not joking. 

“I just said you’ve had enough,” he fumes, snatching the blunt from you and squashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Are you trying to green out? Because I’m not in the mood to clean up your vomit.”

Your mouth has gone dry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Remus huffs, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your face burns. He’s exhausted with you.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and though his tone has cooled slightly, the exasperation is almost worse.

“I don’t know,” you say. Your voice comes out squeaky and wrong. “I’m really sorry.” 

He looks over at you, some of the storminess clearing from his expression. 

“I thought we were playing, I—I wasn’t trying to—“ You take a shuddering breath, trying to keep the wetness in your eyes from escaping. “I won’t throw up, I promise.” 

“Hey.” He sounds almost confused, but it morphs quickly into alarm when you blink and a tear skids down your face. “Hey, don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry.” You push your fingertips into your eyes as if you can forcibly dam the flow. Your skin is hot to the touch. “I’m not trying to.” 

“Dove, come on.” Remus’ hands encircle your wrists. He pulls them towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.” 

“No, you’re right.” Your voice quavers. “I wasn’t taking you seriously.” 

“I didn’t need to be stern with you,” he says, tone firm but soft as he raises your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “It was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.” 

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond but resolute on stopping your tears. 

Remus frowns. He sets your hands down carefully, using his thumbs to chase soothe over the hot tracks on your cheeks. 

“Sirius always says I get bitchy this time of the month,” he murmurs. A little laugh startles out of you, and he grins. You get the sense that was his aim. “Thank you for dealing with me when I get like this.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I know you don’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’ll try to keep a better leash on my temper.” 

“I always want to deal with you,” you laugh, following it with a sniffle. “I think I need to keep a better leash on my delicate sensibilities.” 

“I love your sensibilities,” Remus argues. He mushes your face affectionately between his hands. “I’m sorry for scolding you, sweetheart. Do you feel sick?” 

You take hasty stock of yourself. You’ve definitely reached the point just past too much, but you’ll be okay. “Nope,” you report back happily. “But I do feel like I’d like some snacks, please.” 

Remus passes you the bag of crisps, then some chocolates, then a tin of biscuits. And you feast on kisses for the rest of the night.

[pedroshotwifey]

Beg For It

Pairing: Virgin!Din Djarin x afab!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: piv sex, oral (m), cock worship, virgin din, premature ejaculation, teasing, humiliation, sub din, dom reader, degradation, cockpit sex™, embarrassment, age gap (younger reader), din djarin's monster cock, helmet stays on, pet names, snarky reader, experienced reader, stuff I'm forgetting (c'mon guys, it's me.)

Summary: You make a shocking discovery about Din and decide to do something about it.

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry if you're waiting on TTF or FB rn, but my brain does not want to cooperate atm. TTF 4 should be out relatively soon, but I'm not sure about FB. I hope you like this fic, bc I have no idea where it came from 🤣 My asks are always open in the meantime!!

***

“Fuck, it’s tight in here,” you complain as you stuff yourself into the small alcove exposed by the panel that was just removed from the Crest’s wall. 

“And a fucking mess. Do you ever organize this shit, Din?” 

The exasperated sigh that comes from behind you is enough to answer your question. 

You roll your eyes as you reach for the tangled ball of wires in front of you. No wonder the lights have been flickering. You’re lucky it wasn’t anything worse than that. 

“Who would even be doing this shit if you didn’t have me? Not like your broad ass could fit in here.” 

Mando scoffs behind you. 

“We got along perfectly fine before you,” he argues. “Grogu could fit in there, I’d have him do it.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh. 

“Yeah, that would go over well.” 

Din ignores your quip as he comes up to your side and nudges you with his boot. 

“Hey! Can you not?” You turn your head to bite out at him even though he can’t see you. 

“Scootch over,” he demands. “I need to see what you’re doing so you don’t blow the ship up or something.” 

“Wow, it’s really reassuring to know how much faith you have in me, Mando.”

You swear you hear him bite down on a laugh and you smile despite yourself. You squash yourself to the side as much as you can, allowing a small gap so Din can peek in beside you. He groans as he lowers himself to his belly. 

“Poor old man,” you can’t help but tease. “Bad knees getting to you?” 

“Shut up,” Din quips. 

You don’t actually know how old Din is, but you’re placing your bets on late thirties or early forties. Definitely older than you either way, but not quite old enough to be deserving of your quips. That’s not going to stop you, of course. 

By the time he’s looking inside, you’ve untangled the mess of wires and separated the two that need to be switched. 

“Damn it, Mando, you’re blocking my light. I can’t see shit.” 

He sighs for the umpteenth time today. 

“Really? There’s plenty of light,” he argues. 

“Yeah, maybe when you have a fucking night vision mod in your helmet. Get up and tell me what to do from there.” 

He obeys but you swear you hear him mutter something about being bossy through a groan. 

“What have you done so far?” 

“I’ve separated the red and blue wires from the rest.” 

“Okay, go ahead and pull them both from their outlets.” 

You try to pull them off, but you can’t quite reach the outlets on the back wall. 

“Damn it,” you mutter. 

You shove your knees under yourself and arch your back in attempt to push yourself further into the wall. Straining a bit, you’re able to grasp both ends and successfully tug them towards yourself. 

“Got it, what now?” 

“Put the red wire where the blue wire was, and the blue where the red was,” Mando instructs. His voice sounds much raspier than it had a second ago, making you quirk a brow. 

“You okay there?” you ask as you finish the task. 

“Yup,” he croaks. 

“Okay, I’m coming out.” 

You start to wriggle yourself back, and you hear Din make a strangled sound before biting down on it. It’s not until you feel your ass waggling with your movement that you realize what has him so worked up. A sly smirk quickly spreads across your face as you decide there’s no harm in teasing him a bit. 

You groan and arch your back further as you back out, your ass up in the air as much as you can get it. You take your sweet time sitting up once you're out, and you can almost feel the heat coming from Mando by the time you do. You turn around to face him only to find that he’s avoiding your gaze, his hands clasped together casually in front of his crotch. You honestly wonder who he thinks he’s fooling—there’s not much that could hide a tent that size. 

“What’s the matter, big boy?” you ask sweetly. “You look a bit flustered.” 

“N-nothing.” 

You have to physically bite down on your lip to avoid laughing at his voice crack. You’ve never heard him struggle so much. He clears his throat and tries again. 

“Nothing’s wrong, cyar’ika.” 

“Hm. You sure? Because I’m pretty sure you were checking my ass out a second ago.” 

Din chokes on nothing as soon as the words are out of your mouth. 

“I was not!” He bites out in a panicked tone. 

“Nothing wrong with it, I get it. I’d check out my ass, too,” you laugh and shrug. He looks down at his feet and your brows furrow. This might be the most flustered you’ve ever seen him. 

“Dude, it was just an ass, not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve seen much more than that,” you chuckle lightly. 

He slowly looks up at that, and time comes to a stop as things click into place in your head. 

“Holy shit,” you say, bewildered. “You haven’t seen more than that. You’re a virgin aren’t you?” 

You grin when he says nothing in response. No fucking way the Mandalorian hasn’t fucked or been fucked before. Hell, you’ve wanted to fuck him since you came aboard this junk pile of a ship. Damn, you’re going to take this opportunity and fucking run with it. 

“Poor baby Din, never had pussy before,” you coo at him as you stand all the way up. “What’s the matter? Is it too small? Maybe you don’t even like pussy. You want a big strong man to fuck your ass?” You know you’re just spouting anything you think might get under his skin at this point. 

“N-no,” he bites out, though there’s not much conviction behind it. You continue walking towards him, forcing him toward the cockpit’s pilot seat. 

“No? You don’t like cock, Din?” 

“I think you need some help, big guy. You clearly need someone to dominate you, since you don’t have the balls to step up yourself. You’re lucky I’m here, I can show you how good it can be.”

Din’s hands move closer to his clothed cock to hide the twitch that ensues from your words. You see the movement and it only spurs you on. He gulps again as you keep walking toward him.

“No, I-”

“Take a seat, Mando.” 

He crosses his arms and stands up straighter, leveling you with a defiant stare you can practically feel through his beskar helmet. 

“I will do no such thing.” 

“Oh,” you reply, crossing your arms and returning the look. “But you will.”

You glance down at the impressive bulge in his flight suit, smirking when you catch him shift ever so slightly under the weight of your gaze. 

“I think you want to sit down for me, Mando. And I think you’re going to be begging for my cunt by the time I’m done with you.”

You take a step toward him, and you can see the subtle way he stops himself from taking a step back in response. You stop in front of him and let your hand down to graze his covered length. There’s a sharp intake of breath barely heard throughout the hull. If you had been standing where you were a few seconds ago, you would have missed it. 

“Sounds like you already want to, actually.” 

You cup him fully now, and a strangled sound slips through his tightly sealed lips. 

“Poor little virgin Din, doesn’t even know how good he could have been feeling all this time,” you tease, giving him a light squeeze. 

“S-stop,” he grits out, uncrossing his arms to grab your wrist with one hand. Your movements come to a swift stop. 

“Ask me again, and I will,” you tell him. “But I don’t think you really want that, do you? I think you want to stick your dick inside my warm pussy and come your dumb little brains out.”

There’s a brief silence as you stare each other down, and you can almost feel the way he starts to consider his options. 

“I-”

You give him another squeeze, tighter this time, and his hips buck forward as another animalistic sound tumbles from his tongue. 

“Fuck, please,” Din whines as he gives up trying to hold back. You grin wildly at the sound. 

“Please, what, Din? What do you want?” 

“P-please fuck me!” 

Your hand flattens against him and starts to rub sensually up and down, giving him enough friction to have him shivering with each pass. 

“Okay, baby. Sit down like I told you to, and I’ll take care of you.” 

He nods as you start to lead him backwards, the back of his knees hitting the cockpit chair and forcing him to follow your instructions. 

“What a good boy,” you lean forward to coo at the side of his helmet, right where his ear would be. “Why don’t you take your cock out for me?” 

You push yourself away from him, your hands placed on either arm rest as you lean over him. Din hesitates for a moment, clearly not used to the kind of vulnerability you’re asking him to surrender. 

“Go ahead, baby. I promise I won’t make fun.” In fact, you know you won’t. Judging by the massive tent in his pants, there is absolutely no way that Din Djarin is anywhere near small. Not that you’ll tell him that, of course. 

You stare intently as he gulps and lets his hands trail down to unbuckle his belt and shakily pull his zipper down, revealing his boxers. He waits a beat before pulling himself completely out, and you have to fight to keep your jaw from dropping when he does. 

“Holy shit, Djarin,” you gawk. “Well, your dick definitely wasn’t the problem. Scared some people off if anything.” Honestly, it almost scares you. You don’t think your hand could even fully wrap around it if you grabbed it right now. 

You look back to his helmet, making what you hope is eye contact. Judging by the way he shifts in the seat, you’re pretty sure you’re spot-on. 

“You’re so pretty, Din. It’s a shame nobody’s ever told you.” 

“T-thank you,” he breathes, his head turning slightly. 

“I want you to put your hands on the armrests while I show you how pretty I think you are.” 

He hesitates, obviously still not sure about any of this. 

“Go ahead,” you prompt. “Unless you want me to cuff you to the damn chair.” 

At this, he quickly obeys your request and lets his hands go to grip the rests. His cock slaps up, hard and leaking against his covered stomach. He twists his neck all the way to the side, avoiding eye contact as much as he can manage. As much as he’s resisting giving in, you can see how his chest heaves with desire. In this case, the lust is simply stronger than the embarrassment. 

You quickly bring a hand up to grab at the bottom of his helmet, roughly jerking his head back to look at you. 

“You’re going to watch me while I suck your cock. If I see you look away, you’re not going to like what happens after.” 

Din shivers and nods, shaken slightly by your authoritative tone. 

“Say ‘yes, ma’am’.” 

You watch his throat bob as he gulps down his nervousness. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes out. 

“See, you can be such a good boy when you put your mind to it.”

You slink down to your knees and place your hands on his thick, tense thighs. With your eyes level with his cock, you’re able to watch the way a spurt of precum dribbles down from the tip. 

“Look at that, baby. Little dick is drooling already and I haven’t even touched you.” 

Din tenses and clenches his hand but makes a point not to look away. Good, at least you know he’s listening. Who knew how easy it is to tame a Mandalorian? A little humiliation and degradation can go a long way. 

You lean forward, grabbing hard onto his thighs in reminder to keep his hands where they are as you stick your tongue out to scoop up the precum leaking down his shaft. His hips jut forward, and you swear you hear a quiet whine from his helmet. You can’t help but chuckle lightly.

You decide not to waste your time with little licks, and instead lean forward to take his entire tip into your mouth. Now you definitely hear a whine. You struggle to shove more of him into your mouth and down your throat, his girth making it much more of a task than it needs to be. 

You can feel yourself getting wetter just from the thought of how deliciously he would stretch you out in other places. It really is a damn shame he’s kept this absolute monster tucked away for so long. 

His fingers twitch at the same time his head slams back into the headrest, though he keeps it angled down so he can keep watching you. You have to swallow a few times to work him all the way down, and by that time you can almost feel the way he’s tightened up to restrain himself. 

You take pity on him and pull back, resisting the urge to gag as his weight drags across your throat again. A string of spit connects you to his shiny cock as you smirk up at him. 

“Tell me how it feels, sweet boy.” 

“F-feels s-so good, c-cyare,” Din squeaks. 

“Yeah, you want more?” 

He nods furiously and you immediately flick the tip of his swollen cock, earning you a strangled yelp as his hips buck wildly. 

“What’s the matter? Finally got your dick wet and suddenly you forget how to speak?” 

He begins to shake his head before catching himself and giving you a verbal response. 

“N-no–I mean, yes, yes I want more! Please touch me,” he thrusts his hips forward again, though you're not sure if it’s voluntary or not. 

“Alright, since you asked so nicely.” 

You quickly grasp him and start to pump him furiously, leaning to him again to drool on his tip. The extra lubricant makes your hand glide more smoothly, your pace picking up to the point where you can see his balls drawing up. 

You work your mouth in tandem with your fist, worshiping his throbbing cock with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips on the exposed skin. You close your eyes for a second to savor the way he feels between your lips, and the salty flavor that graces your tongue. If you died with Din Djarin’s dick in your mouth, you would die a happy woman.

“C-cyare, I-” 

He cuts himself off as you quickly pull yourself away, leaving him with nothing but your cooling spit to focus on. 

“No, no, no–ung–I, p-please!” 

You laugh at him as he thrusts up, trying to find some kind of friction. His voice sounds wet, almost like there are tears in his eyes. 

“Aww,” you stand back to admire his writhing body. “Poor thing can’t remember anything but ‘please’. That’s cute. Not hard to get you dumb, is it, Mando?” 

You start to strip in front of him, and his hands come up from the armrests. 

“You better not be moving your fucking hands, Din,” you warn. “I know where you keep those damn binders, don’t think I won’t use them.” 

He groans but lets his wrists back down. His feet shift instead since there’s nothing else he’s able to move at the moment. He whines again as your top comes off with your bra, and then your pants with your panties. 

Fully naked and obviously soaked, you stalk toward him yet again, stopping to place your hand on his shoulder as you climb into his lap, careful not to touch his cock just yet. You settle your thighs over the tops of his and spread your legs. 

When you look up at him, he’s staring you back in your eyes, refusing to look down. You smirk once you realize why. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, baby boy,” you say. “Go ahead and look at my pussy, I know you want to.” 

You watch him slowly lower his gaze and breathe out a curse once it lands on your seam. Leaning forward, you whisper again to the side of his helmet. 

“You can move a hand, Din. Spread me open.” 

He visibly trembles at your command but lifts an arm none-the-less. You feel his fingers trail gently down to where you want him, but he stops just short. 

“T-take my glove off, please. Want to feel you, cyar’ika.” 

You smile at him and carefully bring his hand up to pull his glove off, his dick twitching as you do so. You lick your lips as a tanned and scarred hand is revealed. It’s ridiculous how attracted you are to that simple appendage. You wish you could see his entire body, but you know that’s not a likely scenario. 

Once his glove is discarded on the floor, he moves back to your cunt and sucks in a harsh breath as he feels you. 

“You’re s-so wet,” he says in a way that makes you unsure if he meant to say it out loud or not.

You laugh quietly and guide his hand so that he can prod at your hole, to which he chokes. 

“That’s all because of you, sweet boy.” 

You move your hips forward, and his fingers slip through your seam, your slick collecting on the rough pads. You grasp his wrist to bring his hand to your lips, opening your mouth to suck your tang of the digits at the same time as you let your pussy push against the underside of Din’s cock. 

Another animalistic noise accompanies the way his entire body jolts at the sudden contact. With a pop, you pull his fingers from your mouth to make room for the giggle that bubbles up from your throat. 

“Poor baby’s so sensitive!” you exclaim as you grind against him, making him groan with each pass. Both of his hands grip down hard, one on the rest and the other on your thigh. The man has a fucking grip, you’re sure there will be five little bruises littered across your skin tomorrow. You wonder how good that grip would feel on your hips as he drills himself into you from the back, and file that thought back for another day. 

You shudder as his tip bumps up against your clit, sending little shocks up your spine and making you dizzy. 

“Gonna fuck you now, baby boy,” you breathe. “You want that? Want to stick your cock inside me?” 

“I-ungh-yes, yes!” 

“Yeah?” you ask as you keep up your movements. “Beg for it.” 

“P-please,” Din asks a bit too quietly for your liking. You would bet all the credits you won that he’s blushing under that armor right now.

“Oh, come on now, you can do better than that.” 

There’s a short moment where you think Din isn’t going to do it, and a lump of disappointment gets stuck in your throat. Luckily, he doesn’t make you sit with it for too long. 

“Please, please put my d-dick in your pussy, want to feel you, please! I-I can’t–I want–”

In the middle of his babbling, you lift yourself up and line his cock with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. His hands fly to your hips at the same time his thoughts fly from his brain, unable to think of anything but the way your tight pussy is parting to welcome his fat tip. 

He’s never felt anything quite this pleasurable before, the sensation nearly blinding him as you work yourself down onto him. 

Your head tilts back as Din holds onto your hips for dear life. The combination of that pressure along with the burn from his cock stretching you out is almost too much. You can feel a heat bubbling at the base of your spine, and he’s not even all the way inside of you yet. 

“Oh, god, that’s so good, Din. You’re so good.” 

He whimpers in response, though part of that may be due to the fact that your hips are now flush to his. You’re both panting, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. You can’t see the perspiration on Din, but you can feel the moist heat emanating from him. 

You open your eyes, not realizing they had been closed in the first place. You’ve never been this fucking full in your life. You swear you can feel him all the way up to your throat.

“M–plea–please move,” Din begs and lets his helmet rest on your forehead. His entire body is shaking with the effort of not blowing his load too quickly. 

You grant his request, starting to rock your hips as you bring a hand to settle on his neck, delighted to find a damp mess of curls peeking out from his helmet at the nape. Din gasps as you tug lightly while lifting your hips. 

You start a slow but steady rhythm, your skin slapping against each other each time you bottom out. His heavy cock drags against your walls, making your toes curl. A little whine sneaks out from Din’s concealed lips every time you sink down on him. 

A lewd moan tumbles from your lips as you feel him punch against your cervix, tucking in further than you’ve ever been able to reach before. 

“Fuck, Din! You’re so deep, baby!” 

“I’m not g-going to last l-long, Meshla,” Din strains. 

You ride him harder, taking that as a challenge. The tight thatch of hair at the base of his cock catches on your clit as you slam down on him, bringing you further to the brink. Something white hot flashes within your body, blinding you momentarily. 

You’re not even able to tell him you’re close too before you’re clamping down on him, and he’s shouting as he loses control. Your moans tangle together as you soak his dick, your legs trembling unlike you’ve ever experienced before. 

Din wraps his arms around you as he thrusts up into you, spilling himself within your heat. You’ve never in your life seen or felt anyone come as much as he does. Every time you think he’s done, you feel another spurt of his seed clinging to your walls.

By the time you’re both coming down, your ears have started ringing and your breathing has calmed down enough for you to get a word out, though you’re not sure Mando’s quite capable of that yet. 

“Y-you good?” you manage to gasp. 

You feel Din nod against you, and give yourself permission to lean against him. You’re wrung fucking dry. If this is what it feels like when you’re on top, what might it be like when Din’s in charge? The thought makes your body shudder and your pussy quiver. You sit in silence with him for a while until he finally breaks it with a voice just above a whisper. 

“C-can we do that again?”

You laugh at hearing the last thing you expected to come from his mouth after that. 

“Fucking maker, Din.”

***

Thank you for reading!! Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this!

[wh0re43van]

And they were roommates (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Description: You and Peter are long time best friends and now roommates. Things take a weird turn when he admits that he found your sex toy drawer.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving)

A/n: this is based off this request! I’m sorry if this isn’t up to your expectations, I’ve been having writers block. I’ve also been a bit inactive bc college rawdogging me without lube rn :/ (also I left this open to possibly a pt 2 with pegging Peter?? 🙊)

Peter sits on the edge of the couch clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, playing that mindless video game that he loves so much. His skilled fingers move in a blur across the plastic controller, the sound of the rapid clicks on the joy stick and buttons are drowned out by the blaring music coming out of the stereo. The music is so loud in fact, that the boy doesn’t hear you stumble into your shared home, dropping groceries and cursing at him as you stagger towards the table.

“Goddamnit Peter!” You groan after dropping off the bags of food, stomping into the living room as you dodge empty bottles of soda and dirty clothes on the floor. “Peter!” You gripe, now completely out of patience. But Peter is so fixed on the game and the music is so loud that he isn’t even aware of your arrival.

You let out an irritated sigh before ripping the cord to the stereo out of the wall. “Peter Maximoff!” You shout, crossing your hands over chest. He jumps a bit, startled by your sudden appearance, but soon enough his signature smirk is plastered on his stupid face.

“Hey babe! Where’ve you been?” He asks nonchalantly-choosing to ignore your obviously pissed off stature- as he shifts his attention back to the video game.

“Are you- oh my god,” you groan, completely exasperated as you pinch the bridge your nose. “I’ve been out for three hours getting shit for my party tonight. The one thing I asked you to do was clean up this mess!” You pace infront of the tv like a disappointed mother- a feeling you’ve become all too familiar with since renting an apartment with your man-child of a best friend.

“I don’t think four girls in their 20s getting wine drunk and talking shit for hours on end counts as a party,” Peter snickers before he zooms around you, now between you and the television with his nose nearly pressed to the screen in attempt to finish his game. Your blood is boiling at at this point.

“Beats locking yourself in your room and playing with your dick to those old VHS tapes you still have from high school,” you roll your eyes. “Atleast get with the times and use the internet,” you add with your lips pulled taught in an unamused line, you reach down to unplug the console. Peter of course grabs your hand before you reach the plug, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“And abandon my girls? Come on babe, don’t be ridiculous. We have history!” Peter snickers, unfazed by your attempt to humble and embarrass him.

Peter finally beats the level, sounding off the victory music. With a proud smile, he sits down the controller, finally giving you his attention. “Plus, don’t act like I don’t know about your drawer of toys. Neither one of us are getting laid,” Peter laughs casually as he walks back over to the couch, leaving you with wide eyes and blushed cheeks.

“What the fuck! H-how-Peter! Dude! What-what the actual fuck!” You look at him dumbfounded, now twice as furious and extremely embarrassed.

“Oh, so you can go through my stuff, but I can’t go through yours?” He smirks as he takes a swig of soda out of a two liter bottle, looking at you with pure amusement on his face.

“I-I don’t go through your stuff, Peter!” You shriek, looking down at your feet in attempt to escape his gaze. When you do, you notice a bright orange plastic rectangle on the ground amidst various snack cake wrappers. “Th-there’s a tape literally laying right here!” You chuck the VHS at him, he catches it, sitting it on the couch beside him.

“Alright you’ve got me,” Peter holds his hands up in defense with playful grin. “But you can’t blame me for snooping. You don’t exactly make an effort to keep quiet. Our rooms are right across from each other ya know,” he chuckles as he settles into the couch, wiping his Cheeto covered fingers on his grey sweatpants. “So yeah, maybe I was curious to see the loud ass vibrator that you abuse most nights of the week, and maybe I found a lot more than I was looking for,” Peter laughs at how red your face is. He’s clearly enjoying your utter humiliation.

You feel mortified. You can’t believe he would just reveal that he knows you about your dirty habits so casually. Had he seen everything?

‘Why would I keep everything on the same place,’ you internally facepalm as you imagine Peter digging through your underwear draw to see your Hitachi, the vibrating dildo, the strap.

‘Jesus Christ does he know I have a strap on?’ Panic begins to set it. ‘How long has he known about this?’ Your mind is racing almost as fast as your heart.

You swear you’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. Despite the snow on the ground outside, you feel like your skin is on fire. You’re a clammy, stuttering mess that wants nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but you can’t even will yourself to move.

“Y-you can hear it?” Is all you dare to ask sheepishly, your eyes still wide in horror at the conversation that’s unfolding between you and your best friend.

“Mhm,” Peter snickers as he stands up, nonchalantly stretching and flexing all the muscles in his bare torso. You think for a moment that he might be flexing on purpose as he walks over to inspect the groceries you’ve brought home. “And I Gotta say,” Peter hums as he pops open the new box of twinkies you got for your party. “I’m really not impressed with the settings on that thing,” he says through a mouth full of yellow sponge cake.

You don’t know what to think of the situation. You wrack your brain trying to figure out what he’s playing at, but to no avail. He seems to be amused more than anything; at the very least he doesn’t think any less of you.

You sigh, walking over to the boy, prying the blue hostess box out of his hands. “T-these are for tonight, Peter,” you make a meek attempt of scolding him, but you can’t even look him in the eyes right now as you trip over your words. This only fuels Peters teasing.

“I’m serious babe,” he grins as he slowly rests his hands on either side of you. His bare biceps and chest tense as he grips onto the table, trapping you right in front of him. “I can show ya real speed if you’d let me,” his voice is low and silky smooth as he lets out a small laugh. You blink at him, not sure if you’re understanding him right.

“I-uh…well… if-I uhm-” Your voice is shaky as you stare up at him with wide eyes. At this point you’re sure that your face is as red as those cherry slushies that Peter always gets from the corner store.

“Am I making you nervous?” Peter asks as he leans ever so slightly closer to you. His sultry tone sends heat straight to your core.

“N-no,” you whimper. As if your tone didn’t give you away, you instinctively pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says lightly as puts a gentle hand on your face, his thumb pulls your lip out from under your teeth. “This always gives it away,” Peter hums.

You feel ridiculous at how worked up Peter has managed to get you. You chalk it up to being dick deprived and attempt to pull yourself together before you literally start drooling. But before you speak, Peters next words make your mind go blank.

“These pretty lips of yours are always getting you in trouble, huh?” Peters voice is husky as he drags you lip down with his thumb, focusing on your mouth with a lust laced gaze.

He’s right. Your entire time growing up together your nervous habit of chewing on your lip has always gotten you caught in your lies. It’s a little weird to think about all the adolescent trouble you and Peter got into as he’s standing only inches away from you; very obviously not that little boy anymore. No, Peter is definitely a man now- his mind may not have matured past 15, but his body absolutely has.

He brings his other hand to the back of your head as he steps closer to you. You can feel his warm breath fanning on your face, as your knees begin to go weak.

“Okay Peter that’s enough teasing. You got me. j-just clean up your mess so I can get ready for my party,” you say quietly as you examine his face, taking in how truly handsome your best friend is.

“Oh come on, we have time,” he smiles. That seductive tone is one you never thought you’d hear from Peter, and it’s definitely going to get you in trouble.

Peter dips his head down, his nose brushing against yours, making your breath hitch. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the small contact. He teases his lips over yours, gently ghosting over the skin as if testing the waters.

The moment your lips touch, you’re a goner. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into an intense kiss. Peter laughs into the exchange as he grabs onto your hips.

You never thought of Peter in this way in all the years that you’ve known him. Sure, he’s an objectively attractive guy- anyone can see that- but he’s just never really been ‘your type’ and aside from casual flirting like he does with every woman he comes into contact with, he never showed any romantic interest in you- as far as you were aware at least. But right now, you’re completely desperate for your best friend.

The kiss quickly becomes anything from innocent as Peter grabs your ass, sitting you up on the table so he can stand between your legs. Your hands run through his hair, tugging on the silver stands as his grips onto your lower back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

Reality sets in as his lips trail down your neck where he stops to nip at sensitive skin. As you catch your breath you stutter, “W-what are we doing Peter? Are we really gonna risk our friendship just because neither of us have gotten laid in a while?”

While you are concerned for your platonic dynamic, you just can’t bring yourself to push him away. His warm lips on your skin and his strong grip on your body is too intoxicating.

“We aren’t risking anything, dude,” Peter smiles into the crook of your neck as his hands run up your thighs, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your short dress. “Just two friends helping eachother out. Nothing wrong with that,” he hums. You’re silent for a moment, considering his words.

Peter Steps aways from you, leaving you to whimper at the lack of contact.

“But if you don’t want this, I understand. I won’t press-“ he begins with a small grin as he continues to slowly back away. Without thinking, your hand shoots out, almost causing you to fall off the table. You grip his arm as you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please Peter,” is all you have to say before he’s back on you. Smashing his kiss bruised lips to yours.

Unbeknownst to you, Peter has been waiting for this moment for awhile. He wasn’t ‘totally in love with his best friend’ but you are the one person who knows him better than anything and his domestic partner and you’re smokin hot and he hears you masturbate in the room beside him a couple times a week- not to mention he hasn’t been with a woman in months. I mean, can you blame the guy?

You let out a small gasp as peters fingers brush against your clothed core. He gives you mischievous grin as he pulls you to the very edge of the table.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he breaths as he slowly wraps his fingers around the waist band of your silk underwear. With in half a second, the thin fabric is gone- where to? You have no idea.- and Peter is on his knees below you, admiring your exposed core. “You must really be desperate. Damn,” the boy chuckles as he collects some of your wetness on his finger. You groan, kicking him in the arm gently. But you can’t argue with him.

“Ugh Peter if you’re going to-“ before you can finish whining, Peter has his arms wrapped around your thighs and mouth attached to your swollen clit, licking like his life depends on it. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intense stimulation.

“At least now I know how to shut you up,” Peter chuckles against your core. Caught up in your own pleasure, you grab his hair and grind into his face. Peter let’s out a hum of satisfaction before he slips a finger in your entrance.

“Fuck,” you groan, throwing your head back. Peter is having the time of his life, struggling not to cum in his pants from how erotic you are. I mean yeah, he knew you were hot but he never would have guessed just how sexy your moans are or how good you taste. Call him a munch, but Peter could suffocate right here between your legs and die a happy man.

“Just like that Peter. Please don’t stop,” you pant out lowly, moving your hips faster against his face. You look down to see Peter who is already staring up at you. His silver strands of hair tickle the inside of your thighs as he laps at your clit desperately. The image of your best fiends head between your legs triggers a flash of embarrassment and guilt, but that’s soon forgotten as soon as you feel it.

Peter begins to vibrate his tongue as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curling directly into your g-spot with every thrust.

“Peter!” You shriek, pulling his hair. The sensation is nothing like you’ve felt before. You quickly melt into his touch as you revel in the pure pleasure shooting through every nerve in your body.

Peter replaces his tongue with his thumb before breathlessly pulling you into a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs beginning to shake from how much pleasure is flooding you system.

“I want you to cum for me,” Peter growls against your lips. You whine into the kiss as you clench around his fingers. The tightly wound rubber band in your stomach finally snaps, releasing intense euphoria through your body. “That’s it. Good girl, fuck, just like that,” Peter coos into your ear as the unholiest string of profanities he’s ever heard falls from your kiss bruised lips. You collapse into his chest, your legs shaking, head spinning, chest heaving.

“You okay?” Peter chuckles as he rests a hand on your back. You simply nod your head, trying to catch your breath. After a minute or so of recovery, you open your mouth to speak but are quickly interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. You jump up from the table, looking at Peter in horror as your release drips down your legs.

“My friends,” you gasp. Peter chuckles as he gently stands you to your feet.

“We’re not done here,” your best friend winks before he’s gone with a fwip.

In a Silver Blur, Peter zooms around the apartment. Within five seconds, the living room is spotless, the groceries are put away, and there are four glasses of wine are poured and set at the table with an organized array of the snacks you’d bought.

“Come on in ladies, y/n is in the kitchen,” Peter answers the door, allowing your friends into your home.

“Ew, why is your face wet?” One of the girls ask Peter as they turn the corner into the kitchen.

“And where’s your shirt?” Another girl asks as they exchange confused glances with each other.

“Oh-“ Well I guess Peter forget a couple crucial pieces of evidence. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “What’s with the interrogation girls?” Peter chuckles as he holds his hands up.

Your face goes red in embarrassment as you walk over to great your group of friends on shaky legs- and with a bare core since you couldn’t seem to find your panties anywhere.

“Sorry, ignore him. Peters just leaving,” You smile at your friends then give peter a death glare.

“Oh, y/n, let me know once your little party is over. We need to finish that conversation,” he winks as he picks up a snack cake off the bar. As he ascends up the steps, you see your purple panties hanging out the pocket of his grey sweatpants. You send a silent prayer to every all-powerful incorporeal being you can think of that your friends did not see Peter with your underwear.

“Y/n, are you okay? What’s with-“ one of your friends begin to question.

“Wine!?” You cut her off as you offer-more or less force her to take- a glass of Pinot Grigio which thankfully is enough to shift the conversation.

You’re left in anticipation the rest of the night, half temped kick the girls out just so you and Peter can finish what you’ve started, but you decide against it. As you go commando for the next four hours, you think about how you’re going to get peter back.

[kissitbttr]

watching the superbowl rn (i have no idea what is happening BUT)

more so a thought but like frat!miguel getting hella mad that his team is losing, like shouting n all, groaning nd stressing while all u can do is just stare the way his veins buldge whenever he yells……. (⸝⸝𖦹 ̫ 𖦹⸝⸝) fuck……… not me getting turned on by an angry miguek bye

BUT LIKE TAKE OUT ALL THAT ANGER OUT ON ME BAE… PLEASE…

WHY DIDNT I THINK OF THIS??? YOUR BRAIN BBY?

i’m a firm believer that miguel is a chiefs fan (LMAO) and seeing them losing to 49ers (the team that he insisted to beck and carlos will for SURE taking the L later on) is pissing him off,

“fuck! fuck, fuck! qué coño están haciendo ?!!”

miguel had insisted that you watch the superbowl with him and his frat brothers. despite you telling him that you don’t know jackshit about football and would probably ended up gettin bored, he bribed you with snacks and cuddles later on. sadly, you fell for it. who could even resist?

“what the fuck even was that play?” miguel suddenly stands up from his seat, accidentally knocking your leg over his lap. his hand moves to touch your ankle as a silent ‘sorry, princess’.

though you don’t know anything about this game, one thing you know for sure is how much you love seeing your boy friend gets riled up,

his thick calloused fingers run through his already messy hair—thanks to the sex you both had an hour ago— teeth clenching in anger with his bushy brows pulls together out of frustrations,

you never seen him look so sexy it’s driving you insane,

“who was that?! number four from 49ers”

“the rookie. moody or some shit” beck shakes his head, eyes focusing on the screen,

miguel lets out an exasperated groan, hands furiously rubbing up and down his face before putting them behind his head,

“you regret not putting your bet on mccaffrey, o’hara?” carlos teases from his left. earning a glare from the man,

“don’t fucking push it, you motherfucker” miguel points his finger at him. “the fuck is up with mahomes?!”

“not his skills, that’s for sure” carlos pipes quietly but that doesn’t go unnoticed by miguel. causing him to throw a pillow at him. “ow! easy!”

“why is taylor swift in it everytime kelce holds the ball? this ain’t about her!”

“do people still even give a fuck about her?”

“this is football moment! not a fucking mediocre popstar shit! who has control with the cameras anyway?!”

the banter is funny, really. not what you haven’t seen before anyway. but the highlight of it all is really miguel being absolutely defensive about his favorite team that the sight is making your knees wobble and your pussy wet,

his arms are crossed. biceps bulging because of it. red eyes not leaving the screen as his pupils furiously move from left to right, eyeing how the scene plays before him.

god, you feel so bad for being horny right now.

biting your lip, you decide to tease hin a bit. poking the back of his knee with your toes a couple times before he turns to glance at you,

“what is it, princesa?” at first he thinks that it’s because you wanted him to seat back beside you, and so he does so. reaching out to pull your legs back to drape over his lap but his eyes are now back to the tv,

tilting your head to the side, you watch how his expression settled into a deeper focus. lips formed into a concentration pout while his large hand rest on your bare thigh, giving it a squeeze every now and then. a simple confirmation from him to not leave you out,

“you’re so hot when you’re angry, miggy”

hearing that, his gaze then move towards you. seeing how your pupils dilated by looking at him, lashes batting in innocence matter before he drops to look at your bitten lip. he feels your fingers softly tracing up and down his chest.

oh… he knows that look,

shaking his head, “no, no, no. you can’t do this to me! not right now, baby! I’m watching the game!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about!” he protests, eyes leaving the screen to completely look at you when the game goes to commercial. “you’re giving me that ‘fuck me’ eyes! you know i can’t resist that!”

beck and carlos share a disgust glance with each other, shaking both of their heads before they move to grab another can of beer in the kitchen, not wanting to hear this couple’s banter.

you feign a look of fake surprise. “how dare you assume that! i’m just staring at you! can i not look at my boyfriend?”

“you’re gaslighting me, muñeca. that’s not okay! you think i don’t memorize every look that my own girlfriend has when she wants something?!”

“and what is it that i want?”

“you want to fuck me!” he exclaims. “and i want to as well! but this game is—“

“important to you. yeah yeah” you sigh dramatically before getting up,

“where are you going?!”

“to your room. i’ll be waiting there. naked. come find me if you changed your mind” you respond, eyes rolling. “five minutes or no tits for you for the rest of the night”

miguel panics at that, you don’t know if you’re being serious or not but it’s hard to tell. he watches you walk back upstairs to his room, contemplating whether or not he should follow you or stay here. his knee anxiously bounce up and down. he feels like this is a matter of life and death situation. like someone is pointing a gun behind his head.

but he made up his mind already,

beck could see that. he knows what his best friend about to do. that’s why his eyes are wide, shaking his head and put a hand out as if to stop him,

“no. no, o’hara. i know she’s your girl but you gotta put bros before hoes on this one! come on!” beck is begging at him, but it’s too late because miguel already bolts out of the sofa and sprint towards his room

“get your ass back here, o’hara! fuck!”

[hacash]

someone hold me it turns out I’m not done talking about Isaac and Colin yet because look at this shit

(with all the credit to the talented @skulandcrossbones; a gif is worth a thousand words!)

look at Isaac’s face. he’s not pissed. he’s exasperated, yeah, but he’s also ready to talk. he’s not the angry Isaac we saw telling the team to delete their ex’s nudes; he’s not even shakespearean-rage Isaac from Amsterdam! he’s got half a smile on his face, he’s conciliatory, he’s opening up lines of communication, he’s approaching his buddy - do we really think he’d be that tolerant if it looked like Cockburn or Dixon were seemingly refusing to delete intimate pictures of their ex-girlfriends? do we really think he’d be that chill even if it were Bumbercatch or Richard or Jamie? 

but it’s Colin, and Isaac clearly knows Colin better than anyone, and he knows that Colin is a good guy, and he knows that Colin is gonna do the right thing if Isaac just talks to him. I even think from that approach that if Colin had said that he wanted some space or that his situation was complicated, Isaac would have heard him out.

but Colin doesn’t react as expected. he acts with uncharacteristic hostility; he appears to put up a wall against Isaac’s olive branch. and when Colin seemingly presents himself as being not on board with doing the right thing, it really takes Isaac aback.

because that’s clearly not the Colin he knows and loves. now, even though Isaac is hot-tempered and rather physical, I propose that he wouldn’t have snatched Colin’s phone if it wasn’t for that response. but Isaac’s clearly a man of principle, and he’s a man who cares about his friends. so the painful combination of Colin (seemingly) rejecting doing the right thing and (seemingly) rejecting Isaac’s olive branch is the worst combination possible and leads to Isaac reacting sharply, which brings everything crashing down.

anyway it’s too late now but I need both Kola Bokkini and Billy Harris to remember the ‘no face journeys’ rule because they’re absolutely killing me rn.

[regionalcinnabonmanager]

“You wouldn’t have a key to this random door, would you?” 

Flufftober 14: locked in/trapped

You and Leon are stuck in a storage closet at the DSO's headquarters. One problem: You're claustrophobic.

fluff, (obvi) second person pov, gn reader, idiots in love, mutual pining, leon is awkward at feelings, he is also a major simp for you, written with re4 leon in mind but can be read as any, let me know if i need more tags. i don’t think it needs much? NOT PROOFREAD.

word count: 2.1k

i fell in love with leon and subsequently hopped on the fluff train, now i'm writing this nonsense fic. rationale is,, not optimum rn but thats fine, uhh enjoy, simps.

--

“Ow-!” Leon winced in response to you stepping on his foot by accident. 

“Sorry!” You took your foot off of Leon’s as you tried to look for that damn battery pack Hunnigan told you and Leon to look for, struggling greatly to find it as you shined your flashlight in various directions, trying to find it. 

A blackout had happened at the DSO. Those usually never happen at HQ, due to there being backup generators during city-wide blackouts, but apparently, some idiot electrician fixing something down there had screwed up and caused all the lights at HQ to go bye-bye.

So now you were stuck in a dark, small, storage room only big enough for two people to freely move around in, looking for a spare battery pack for people’s flashlights. 

“Found it yet?” Leon asked, shining his flashlight at the storage racks filled with various chemicals and cleaning supplies. You scoffed in response.

“If I did, I’d be grabbing the thing and getting out of this damn room ASAP. Starting to get really uncomfortable here..” You replied with snark, spotting the battery pack a little bit after. With a feeling of accomplishment, you took it. “Found it.” You turned around and held it up, shining your flashlight upwards.

“Good, let’s get out of here and get it to Hunnigan. Still don’t know why she made us do this..” He sighs, hand reaching out to turn the lever door knob. 

As he does so, the door knob falls to the floor with a clatter. Leon picks it back up and tries to reattach the piece of metal, but fails; and it falls to the floor again. 

Silence envelops the room as the two of you stare at the door knob for a few seconds… and then slowly, your eyes meet each other’s. 

Shit.

“What did you do!?” You were the first to break the silence with an exasperated remark, questioning how the fuck Leon managed to break the doorknob.

“I didn’t do anything! The knob just.. broke.” He replies, equally as confused as you are. 

Oh shit, this was your worst nightmare put into words. Which was ironic, considering you worked at an organisation that dealt with nightmarish monstrosities on the regular. 

Of all the things you could be afraid of, somehow small spaces were one of those great fears.

You felt yourself begin to panic. The room felt suffocating. 

“Okay, relax, I’ll just call Hunnigan and tell her we’re stuck in the storage closet. She’ll get us out.” Leon pulled out his phone and flipped it open, dialling Hunnigan. Shortly after, she picked up, and he explained what had happened to the both of you. 

As Leon was on the phone with her, you bit the inside of your cheek and began to zone out, trying to keep yourself together. You could barely hear their conversation as a high-pitched ringing drowned out their voices.

“..Thanks Hunnigan. Bye.” He ended the call, flipping his phone closed with a sigh. “Hunnigan called facilities. ETA is in an hour, so we might as well get comfy.” He pocketed the device as he turned to your still form staring at the wall. “Hey, you good?” He reached over to pat you on the shoulder, snapping you out of your trance.

That seemed to work, as your head immediately turned to him. “Huh? What?”

Leon sighed, repeating what he just said to you. “Are you okay?” He added at the end. “You were kinda.. zoning out.”

You shook your head and sighed, your face twisted into a frown. “No- yeah, I’m uh..” 

Leon raised a brow. “Are you okay or not?” 

Figuring that you can’t hide the truth forever, especially not in a room as small as this, you decided to tell him your fear. “I’m claustrophobic. And I’m kinda, y’know, freakin’ out right now-” You laughed in an attempt to stop yourself from spiralling, but it just made you look sad. 

A look of realisation crossed Leon’s face as he tried to think of what to do to help you calm down. He had experienced panic attacks before, and he knew how to deal with them. Maybe that can help?

“Alright, deep breaths right now, okay?” Leon took your hands and sat you down on the cold floor in an attempt to ground you back to reality. He gently took your face and made you look at him, his blue eyes meeting yours. “Tell me five things you can see.” He took your shining flashlight and pointed it up, letting you see your surroundings.

You looked around momentarily, your eyes landing on a plastic container filled with an orange liquid. “Floor cleaner,” Your eyes trailed over to other spots, “Rat poison, white floor, mop, mop bucket.”  

“Good.” Leon tried to remember the next step. “Four things you can touch.” 

You raised a hand and felt around the place, landing on the cold floor. “Floor..” You touched your arm, fabric balled into your grip. “Clothes,” you reached behind you to feel the cold metal of the storage rack. “Storage rack..” 

You then looked down at Leon’s hand on yours, turning your wrist to intertwine your fingers with his. “Your hand..” You mumbled with a little warmth in your cheeks. Leon seemed to share the same heat on his face as well, but you both chose to ignore it.

Clearing his throat, Leon let your hand stay with his as he ran you through the last three steps of the grounding technique. 

“You feel better?” He asks softly, rubbing the skin of your hand with his thumb. 

You nodded, looking up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m.. feeling better now..” 

There was a kind of tension in the room as the two of you sat on the floor of the supply closet in silence, hand in hand. Neither of you had ever done this before, so there was a definite awkwardness.

He was just trying to help you calm down, You thought to yourself, rationalising his actions. Nothing more to it. 

Your eyes shifted over to Leon, glancing at his face for a second before looking away.

Shit, they’re probably uncomfortable right now, Leon silently thought to himself. But, they’re not pulling their hand away.. Maybe they don’t mind it?

“How- how much time did Hunnigan say facilities would get here?” You broke the silence with a question.

“An hour, she said. Although, they might get here a bit later because they’re still dealing with the electricity problem. Then they’ll get us out.” He replied with a sigh, leaning back into the metal storage rack behind the two of you. “Don’t worry. It probably won’t be too long.” 

You nodded in response. An hour, huh? Well fuck. What’s two people to do ‘til then?

The two of you sat in more silence as you quietly waited for time to pass by, the occasional clicking of shoes together the only source of sound in the room. Leon’s flashlight was propped up and acted as the singular light source that illuminated everything just enough for it to be visible. With which, you decided to admire your best friend’s arms.

Everyone with eyes knew Leon was a catch. He was blessed with good looks, and a body that looked like it was chiselled by the Gods. Whether he knew it or not, he was dashing. You knew that, everyone did. 

Fortunately, (or unfortunately,) you had the pleasure of knowing what was behind that physical layer and found the treasure underneath. He was kind, endearing, always fought for what was right, and was overall, a really good guy.

And thus, the crush began. You’ve been hiding it pretty well, you’d think. He didn’t seem to notice anything. Besides, if he did, it’s not like you could do anything about it. He probably doesn’t feel the same..

As you went on your little thought train, your mind wandered deeper into the brainrot, thinking about how his arms would feel wrapped around you and embracing you in a warm hug..

“Can you like, hug me?”

Leon turned to you, giving you a look of confusion. “What?” 

Shit, did you say that out loud? FUCK.

Well, no turning back now.

“Uh- can you.. give me a hug?” You asked again, a little more embarrassed this time.

He was a little bit hesitant, but you reassured him that it was fine. And so he finally put his arms around you, gently pulling you towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. The position was not innocent at all. You were facing him, your chest against his as his arms wrapped around your waist and your head rested on his shoulder. 

 A little intimate for ‘best friends’, there. A little voice in your head spoke up, but you quickly shut it down, deciding to ignore it in favour of feeling the comfort of Leon’s arms around you.

Even if he doesn’t like you in the same way, then at least… you can still enjoy the feeling of being his best friend. Enjoy this hug. 

Your shoulders slumped a little at that thought. 

--

Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, the holiest of fucks. What in the actual hell am I doing?

Leon silently panicked to himself as he held you in his arms. Was he really doing this? Was this real? Did he or did he really not have his best friend/long-time crush in his arms right now? And you’re the one that asked for the hug? This was a dream come true. 

Maybe… this is a hint that they like me? He thought to himself, before dismissing the thoughts. No.. they probably don’t feel the same way. 

He heard a little yawn from you, betraying your fatigue. “You wanna sleep?” He asked, to which you nod in response to. “Alright..” Acknowledgement comes from him in the form of a soft whisper.

Fuck, they’re so cute when they’re tired.. He raised a hand from your waist to your back, drawing circles to help you fall asleep. He knew you deserved this. You’ve been running around settling the technical things since the blackout, no wonder you’d be just about ready to collapse. 

After about 20 minutes, he eventually feels you relax in his arms, your breathing slowing down to a calmer, more peaceful pace. A tell-tale sign that you’re asleep.

He sighs quietly, deciding to talk to himself as you sleep. “Why did I have to fall for you?” He whispers as he continues to draw circles on your back. “Why did it have to be you?” 

“You’re way out of my league. Stunning, smart, funny… God, I knew I’d never have a chance, but I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

It was really no wonder how he fell for you. You were everything he wanted, but he knew he’d never have you for a multitude of reasons.

“You’re much better off without me. You shouldn’t have to worry about someone who’ll die on you anytime I’m away. But fuck, I want you so bad.”

That was the truth. His job made it hard to maintain a relationship, he knew that, you knew that. In fact, every agent in the building knew it. Though there were no restrictions on having a family, most were either too busy to find love or chose not to for obvious reasons.

Leon held you tighter in his arms, being careful not to crush you. “I love you. So much. I know I can’t have you, but that’s fine. I’ll keep loving you from afar.” 

He sighed, thinking about why he was even spilling his heart out like this. “What am I saying? You can’t even hear me..” He chuckled mirthlessly.  His hand gently cradled the back of your head, a small smile on his face as he played with the hair on the nape of your neck. 

Unbeknownst to him, you were still awake. Half-asleep, but you heard everything.

Bonus:

The lights flickered back on, waking Leon up from his sleep. The power was back, and there was a clattering of the lock on the other side of the door.

“You two okay in there?” Hunnigan’s muffled voice called from the other side of the door. “We almost got the lock opened, just hold on.”

A few minutes later, the door opened, revealing a guy from facilities and Hunnigan standing in the doorway. “Oh, thank God you two are fine-” 

She stops in her tracks, spotting you in Leon’s arms, sitting on the floor. She blinks a few times, trying to connect the dots. “Did you two-” 

“Nothing happened.” Leon got up, carrying you with ease and walking out of the door. He did not want to speak of what happened, lest it caused a gossip storm among the employees. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

Hunnigan just followed along, kind of having this ‘whatever’ mindset. 

[peachsayshi]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH ok ok it’s me again! no but same i’m so “Choso on the brain” rn it’s not even healthy (leaving my acc visible cuz id really love to keep talking choso with you if you wanted! i’m not much of an active writer tho so ^^’)

I feel like Choso’s a good boy 🥺, or at least really tries to be. He knows he shouldn’t look. But the sounds of the shower running are almost deafening. The knowledge of your state behind the door, the steam traveling from the bathroom, making your scent all that much harder to ignore. It’s all an assault on his senses. Choso thinks he might explode, his body so tense it might snap from how hard he tried to keep himself sat on the edge of the bed.

(Truly don’t know how this would end up but i’d love to find out heheh)

(hiiii!! it’s nice to see you my fellow thirst buddy 🥹🧡 - also that’s absolutely fine! my ask box is open & I love chatting with you guys about our favorites 😭😭)

Oh, there are so many fun ways to play out this scenario 😏 because you’re right. Choso is a good boy. He’s a sweet boy. He does not want to overstep or come across as rude or untrustworthy. So, he breathes in to calm himself, his lashes fluttering because the scent coming from the bathroom is intoxicating. He slowly unties his hair, allowing it to fall to his shoulder then runs his fingers through the midnight strands in frustration. He undresses, removing his top in a meditative trance in an attempt to stop thinking about you lathering your smooth, soft skin in bubbling suds.

His cock twitches in his pants.

“Fuck,” he whispers; a rare swear leaving his lips. His shuts the door of the closet, his fingers pressing so hard into the wood he’s afraid he might hear it snap.

As desirable as the opportunity is, he refuses to take a peek at what’s going on behind the bathroom. He doesn’t even realize how tense he is until he hears the shower stop running.

Little trickles echo in the bathroom, the sound of your shuffling body drawing out an exhale from an exasperated choso.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to step out in a fluffy white towel cocooning your frame, the material barely covering his deepest of temptations. A sheen of dew makes your skin glow underneath the soft lighting, your anxious but curious eyes locking into his own.

“I forgot the bathrobe”

Your voice sounds so sensual despite the slight hesitation, a hesitation which might easily be mistaken as nerves. Choso clenches his fists by his side, the blood drawing to his thick member. His cheeks give him away instantly, burning a bright shade of red that makes him wish he could sink into the ground.

But he’s a good boy, like you said.

A sweet boy.

He simply clears his throat and opens up the cupboard to retrieve his robe. He hands it politely your way, mumbling “here you go” but hating the way his voice cracked.

He quickly side steps around you to head towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His back falls to the frame, and he slips his hand underneath his pants to squeeze his aching bulge while the other is fisted between his teeth as he stifles a moan of relief.

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 5

Chapter Five: Our Mistakes Were Bound To Be Made

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, reader in this chapter thinking of unalive, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!

Word Count: 10.8k

A/N: HELLO! WOW UM YOU GUYS ARE SO KIND AND SWEET AND AHHHHH every time I write I get so fricken nERVOUS bcs I want to do it right and I heckin’ put a lot of pressure on myself every time I create something and I want it to be good and now I’m slowly beginning to realize I’m a perfectionist AHKJFHAHA But it’s so worth it, I always look forward to your comments and feedback and warms my heart to see you all enjoying the series so far! ALRIGHT go go go go!

(P.S. UHHH THIS GIF MAKES ME GO FERAL DASKJJFHASKDGH WHY AM I SMILING SO WIDE RN PLS I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM HNGGGG)

Song: hate to be lame (feat. FINNEAS) by Lizzy McAlpine Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD - 2023

KANSAS CITY – MIDNIGHT

Joel has his large frame covering your body and you’re trying to steady your breathing. His fingers are still gripping your waist tightly, feeling them pressing onto your skin. You hear Henry speak in a commanding voice, “Eyes on me. Eyes on me.” You and Joel slowly bring your eyes to him, while yours are wide with fear like Ellie’s, Joel’s eyes are narrowed in anger. He’s pissed at himself right now.

Henry has the gun pointed at Ellie, who was kneeling with her hands up, he speaks again, “You don’t have to worry about what to say. We don’t want to hurt you. We wanna help you.” Joel only utters a single word, “Okay.” Henry shifts his weight, making it clear he’s never done this before, “Okay, um…” You try and speak up, “Henry, please put down the gun–” This takes him aback and he sputters in anger, “How the fuck do you know my name?” Your body flinches at the sound of his rising voice and fear of what he would do.

Joel’s gaze darkens, it was like as if a switch had flipped, his vein is close to popping out of his neck, he is the turbulence and wrath all at once, and he shouts at Henry, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that. Only talk to me.” You and Ellie look at him, mouths slightly parting and blinking up at him in shock. There is a sudden pause that fills the fair, and Henry understands that you were important to him, just like the girl who was kneeling in front of him. He shifts his weight again to his other side and speaks calmly this time, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this but if I lower my gun we didn’t hurt you so you don’t hurt us. Right?”

Joel stares at him with daggers in his eyes, and refuses to warm his tone as he replies, “That’s right.” Henry blinks twice and nervously says, “That’s a weird fucking tone, man.” Ellie is quick in trying to diffuse the situation, “That’s just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice.” She turns to stare pointedly at him and says, “Joel, tell him he’s okay.” You softly say, “Joel, please.” A beat passes, but Joel doesn’t let up, his voice becomes colder, and stares unwaveringly as he looks at Henry, “Everything is great.”

Ellie lets out an exasperated sigh, “Dude.” While Henry lets out a curse, “Fuck!” His hands are shaking and you get to hear the rattle of the gun as he speaks, “Okay. Listen. I’m gonna trust you.” Henry lifts his arm to get Sam’s attention, the young boy turns his head to his older brother who begins to use sign language, “I’m going to trust him.” Sam signs back to him asking, “Are you sure?” And Henry reassures him, “Yes.” His voice rises again, “But if either of you guys try anything…” He points the gun closer to Ellie’s head, indicating what he means, “Yeah?”

Ellie replies with an unsteady, “Yeah.” And Sam steps off of you and Joel, no longer perched up above you. You feel his grip loosen a bit, but his presence is still there. Joel thinks for a second and asks Henry, “Can we sit up?” And he replies simply, “Yeah. Slow. Get up slow.”

You feel his hands leave your hips and slowly remove himself from you, and you and he sit up slowly, doing as you were told. Joel asks for verification, “Is your name, Henry?” He nods, “Yeah, my name’s Henry. That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now… my guess is you’re running a close second.” Henry lowers the gun from Ellie’s head, and the uneasiness of the situation dissipates a little bit. You feel your throat closing up as you stare at Sam and Henry, two characters whose futures were written with crayons and coloring books. It was misspelled and outside the lines, and you know their stories end in tragedy.

You, Joel, and Ellie sat across from Henry and Sam, in a fully formed circle. They had asked if you had any food and you nodded, grabbing the remaining packs of food from your bag. The lamp in the center illuminated the room, brushing aside the dark and making room for the bright. You were all chewing and eating quietly, discomfort hanging in the air, a scale waiting to tip off balance, this alliance that had been formed through force and tension.

While chewing, Henry decides to break the silence to ask, “Where’d you get these?” Ellie chirpily replies, “From Bill. He’s dead.” Your lips form into a frown at her words, even though you haven’t met Frank and Bill, the thought of them always causes your eyes to glaze over, your gaze now distant, over the memory of their love and how it ended. Not knowing what to say, the two brothers keep quiet at her statement.

Joel is busy glaring at Henry, unhappy and pissed at his presence, but his overwhelming sense of responsibility takes over and looks to the younger kid Sam, he crumples up the wrapper and gives his remaining food to him. He smiles and taps Henry’s shoulder, signing a thank you, and telling Joel, “He says thank you. I’m guessing you don’t have much, so this means a lot.”

Joel doesn’t say anything and he’s completely stoic, you decide to look at Sam and give him a small wave and you begin to move your hands and arms to sign and speak, “How old are you?” Everyone looks at you in surprise, not expecting what you had done, Henry raises an eyebrow, “You know ASL?” And you nod and signed as you spoke so Sam could also understand, “I’m close with my cousin, she’s deaf. I decided to take up classes early on so I could gossip to her about boys every time she came over after school without my parents finding out.”

Joel can’t take his eyes off of you, his compartmentalization is cracking and this close to shattering. He wonders how he got so lucky to have you with them, and this contrast with Joel’s abject terror at having to feel any sort of fondness or emotions towards you and Ellie. He’s trying to find a reason for him to be angry, to lash out at you for being so kind in an upside-down world, but he can’t bring himself to. 

Sam smiles and signs to you, “Eight.” Ellie smiles and says “Cool. I’m Ellie.” And you sign her name for him, and he nods in understanding, you also sign your name and he smiles at you, what a beautiful kid. Ellie then wacks Joel on the knee so he could be polite and introduce himself, he looks at the girl with a frown, and she persists him, he sighs, “I’m Joel. Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other let’s call this a win-win and move on.” Henry cleans his hands and swallows the rest of his food, “Well, I’m betting that ya’ll came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up I’ll show you one.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

“Welcome to Killa City.” Henry says as you three look out the large glass window, “No FEDRA.” Joel states and Henry confirms this, “Not as of ten days ago, no.” Joel has his arms crossed over his chest, while you stand beside him, he says, “We always heard KC FEDRA was…”

“Monsters? Savages? Yeah, you heard right.” Henry said and he recounts what happened in those walls, “Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years. And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get the chance, they do it right back to you.” You shudder at the thought of that, for twenty years FEDRA raped, tortured, and murdered for sport, all because they had the opportunity and power to do as they pleased. “But your not FEDRA?” Joel asks him, Henry looks up at him, “No, worse. I’m a collaborator.”

“What’s a collaborator?” You ask, and Joel answers you, “He’s a rat. I don’t fuckin’ work with rats,” He’s turning and about to usher you away but Henry is swift as he retorts, “Yeah, you fucking do. Today you do because I live here and you don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city, and that’s how I’m gonna help you get out.” Joel’s eyes narrow in suspicion, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you did. What you both did. The way you killed those men.” His eyes shift to look at you and Joel subtly steps in front of you to block him from staring at you, his protective instinct taking over, Henry stares at Joel again, “Now, I know where to go but I don’t know how to make it through alive. Not if it’s just me and Sam.”

“You seem capable enough. You’re armed.” Joel says and Henry shakes his head, “You’re wrong and wrong. Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at both of you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent. So that’s the deal. I show the way. You clear the way.”

A laugh from Ellie and Sam causes the three of you to bring your eyes to them. They’re reading Ellie’s pun book and giggling to themselves. Henry has made a major admission to the two of you, that their guns were not loaded. Joel faces the window again, trying to decide, and you hug yourself with both your arms and listen to Henry say, “Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“So how are we getting out?” Joel asks reluctantly with both hands on his hips, he has no other option but to let Henry lead the way. He grabs a piece of paper, places it on the conference table, then uses a pencil and begins to draw a map of the area, he begins to explain how to cross the highway, “Highways, downtown.” He points to the center of the paper, “Us.” He circles a specific area of the map, “This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“She’s in charge?” Ellie questions next to you, “Leader of the resistance,” Henry confirms, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question. So how do we get across?” Henry bangs on the table, the vibrations getting caught with Sam’s senses, he looks to Henry and signs to him, “How do we get across?” The young boy nods and writes across the Woody Woodpecker doodle pad, and he holds up the board, “Tunnels.”

Henry snaps his fingers, “Boom.” And Joel is perplexed as he questions, “Kansas City has a subway?” The older brother looks down before replying, “No, but they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including… a bank building here.” He begins to draw on the sheet of paper again the graphite leaving marks on it, “So we enter the tunnels here travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential.” Joel has his mouth twisted to the side while you’re trying to process all the information being said by Henry, “There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” he claps his hand for emphasis, “free as a bird.”

“You’re right. That’s a great plan. So, what do you need me for?” Joel his voice was deep and stern as he asked, Henry, licks his lips nervously and takes a breath before replying, “You noticed anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen.” You’re quick to reply, “There’s no infected above ground.”

“Bingo, damn she knows ASL and she’s observant, you’re pretty smart,” Henry says and you stare wide-eyed at his compliment, not knowing how to take it. Joel, however, is clenching his fist, and scowling at him. He clears his throat, uncomfortable and intimidated, “FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.”

“So you want us going into a tunnel?” Joel states and Henry quickly defends himself, “Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is it’s empty.” He smiles smugly and Joel is skeptical, “You’ve been down there?” Henry replies with a meek, “No,” Joel takes a deep, frustrated, breath, about to chew him out but Henry pushes on, “but the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean, completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“When?” Ellie asks this time, “Like three years ago.” Henry replies, and Joel tsked at him while placing both palms on the table, shaking his head in disapproval, he responds with, “Okay, maybe, there’s one or two but you handle it.” Joel looks up at him, “What if there’s more?” Ellie adds, “And one of those blind ones that sees like a bat?” Henry looks surprised, “Wait, you ran into a clicker?” The young girl acts brave, “Two of them.” He then says proving his point, “And you’re still alive. You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there we turn around and run right back out the same way we came.” Joel pushes himself off the table, puffing his chest, “That’s your great plan?” Henry shoots back, “No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan. But as far as I could tell,” he shrugs, “it’s our only shot.”

Joel sighs and you hear a thumping sound from the table, it’s coming from Sam, and he signs, “What are they saying?” Henry looks to you for an answer, and immediately your gaze is fixed on Joel, the temper in his eyes cool down and soften, this tells you all you need to know, you look to Sam as you speak and sign to the young boy, “We’re going to help you escape.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

BANK BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

The group makes their way across the street and into the abandoned bank. The tall glass windows made you restless, if one of the rebels drove by someone could spot you easily. Joel reads your mind as he says, “We need to get out of sight.” Henry takes a look around and spots the entrance, “Uh, I think it’s this way.” Joel nods and the group breaks into a jog to the right-side hallway of the bank building. The squeak of the door fills breaks the silence and the shine of flashlights chase away the darkness. All of you enter, and Henry says to Joel, “This should be it. You ready?” Joel shifts his gaze to Ellie and then you, “Get your gun out.”

Ellie smiles and pulls it out of her jacket pocket and you do the same, Joel begins to take the lead and you trail behind him. He pushes the large metal maintenance door, shining his flashlight and making sure it’s clear. “See, it’s empty. The plan is good.” Henry says optimistically, and you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. You hear Joel shush him, “The plan is good? We’ve been down here for two seconds. We don’t know anything.” Henry leans back a little, tilting his head at Ellie and you, “You’re dad’s kind of a pessimist.” And in synchronized fashion, the two of them reply, “He’s not my dad.” While Joel says, “I’m not her dad.” You nearly laugh and hide your face with one of your hands as the other was currently holding the flashlight and gun. Henry doesn’t say anything and Joel begins to give instructions, “Just point your light forward and be ready to run.”

You walk a few paces behind Joel with Ellie right behind you, the sound of footsteps echoes in the tunnel, and with every step, you hear the sound of the cement beneath your boots. After what seems like an hour, you take a left, to a section of the tunnel, and stumble across a colorful entrance, one you instantly recognize from one of the scenes in the video game. A castle is painted at the entrance of the door, and blue covers the walls representing the sky, people were drawn on them, child-like in manner. Flowers were painted, along with hills and rainbows.

Ellie lets out a quiet, “Woah,” as your lights bounced around the walls to admire and inspect them. You see Sam about to open the door but Joel stops him while shaking his head, “No.” He goes first, pushing the heavy door, taking a peek with his gun out, and finding no infected.

The rest of the group follows him inside to find chairs, tables, toys, and books scattered around the room. You see the large goal painted on the wall and find a ball right next to it. Joel looks up to find the ventilation fan and says, “I heard about places like this. People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asks, and Joel looks at the whiteboard with the written house rules, “Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and they all got infected.” Ellie hums and walks over to one of the tables, Sam plops down on one of the chairs, and she messes around with him. Joel looks at a kid’s drawing on the wall, figures representing Danny and Ish. You look over his shoulder and then approached the wall, grabbing the drawing. Joel watches you and asks, “Do you know who they are?” You nod, “Yeah, Ish’s backstory might be different though. But the summary of it is that he established a community here with another guy named Danny, and Suzan and Kyle, with their kids. And several others, but at some point, a door was left open. Just like you said, someone forgot to follow the rules.” Joel sees you frowning and your eyes sad, “What happened to them?” You look up at him, “Ish, Suzan, and the kids escaped and made it out to the suburbs, after that their fate is unknown.”

You hear Ellie and Sam find a Savage Starlight comic and hear her excitement, “No way! I love these!” They begin to converse over the comic issues that they have, you shine your light around the room, looking through books and drawings. You hear Ellie speak again, “To the edge of the universe and back. Endure and Survive.” He begins to teach her how to sign the last two words, “Endure. Survive. Fuck yeah, man!” And they giggle and high-five.

“Keep it down. We’re not out yet.” Joel says and you’re busy grabbing one of the science books that was left behind, you hear Ellie groan, “Oh, c’mon. Can we just rest here for a while? There’s like actually shit to do here.” Henry pipes in, “Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit. Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.” You also decide to mumble, not caring if they heard or not, “And let them be kids for a bit. It wouldn’t hurt them to have a little fun.”

Ellie looks at Joel, and seemingly outnumbered, he shrugs and lets them do whatever. The three of you sit at the table, next to Joel, while he and Henry watch both of the kids play. You are busy studying the book you found, was a bit outdated, but it still held the key information you needed to review, and for some reason, you’re having a hard time remembering important memories.

You hear Ellie and Sam having the most fun that they’ve had in years. Their life is a gorgeous broken gift, with billions of people waiting to be fixed. They were just kids who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up, and suddenly it fits. They grew up too quickly, but if only they knew, that the sunlight shines a little brighter, the weight of the world’s a little lighter all because of them. 

You hear Joel lowly speak, “If you were… collaboratin’ to take care of him I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t know you’re situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but… All things considered, seems kinda cruel… to send a whole army after you for that.” You raise your eyes from the book, watching the two men, Henry looks down before he admits what information he was hiding, “You know, I wasn’t… exactly telling you two the truth before about me not killing someone.”

Joel turns to look at him with his mouth slightly parted while your eyes are simply waiting for him to continue, “There was a man, a great man. You know, he was never afraid, never selfish, and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kind of man you’d follow anywhere.” Your leg begins to bounce up and down in anticipation while you slowly bring your eyes to Joel. He wasn’t that kind of man, and despite that, you knew deep down you follow him anywhere. Henry continues and your eyes dart back to him, “I mean, I wanted to. I would’ve. Yeah, but… Sam, he… he got sick. Leukemia.” Your leg stops bouncing after that, you completely go numb and breathing becomes a little harder. A pause between you three, a dose of reality that there were plenty of other illnesses and diseases besides the cordyceps they had to worry about. The quality and value of human lives have deteriorated over the twenty years in their world, and the decisions people have collectively made, to fight each other rather than together inevitably cause the apocalyptic world they have today. You know so little, yet fear so much. You aspire not to expire at the hand of some infectious disease. Children can no longer have proper childhoods, and no more clumsy start to adolescence, the moment they were brought into this world, they now also carry the burden of the past.

Henry continues, “Yeah, anyway… there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock. There wasn’t much left of it and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother. Yeah, so… you still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?”

You rub the side of your face in exhaustion and stress, while Joel gives him a one-shoulder shrug, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.” You shake your head, “What was his name?” He promptly responds, “Michael.” You continue, disagreeing with his statement, “No, it will never be that easy. You made a human decision. You took a risk because of your love for Sam at the cost of an uprising that wouldn’t have even happened if you hadn’t done what you did.” Henry only looks at you with guilt then he stares at Joel, “But you get it, though. You might not be her father, but you were someone’s.” Joel doesn’t deny it and simply looks down at the table while Henry goes on, “See, I could tell.” He shifts his gaze at you again, “You weren’t a parent, but I see how hard you try to be there for everyone.”

Joel looks at you for confirmation, but you merely blink with a gaze full of denial, you turn away and stand up from your chair while grabbing your flashlight, gun, and bag, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. The sun is about to set, let’s go.” For the first time, you were the one to walk away.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

PARKING LOT OF THE BANK OF AMERICA, ON THE WAY TO THE SUBURBS, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The sound of the metal door opening fills your ears as you walk out of the stairwell, flashlights shine through the darkness as Joel asks, “Do you know where we are?” Henry replies with optimism, “Yep. The other side.” You begin to walk away from the parking lot and into the suburbs. You pull Joel to the side and tug on his arm, he leans down to your height before you could go on your tip toes, and you whisper, “Joel, I’m not sure Sam and Henry are gonna make it. So far it’s been good, and things might’ve changed but I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, ‘cause I can’t remember how it goes from here.”

He looks at you with great concern, “What do you mean?” Your eyebrows tense and your eyes nervously move and shift as the words spill out of your mouth, talking in circles, “Henry might kill himself, but I don’t know why, something is stopping me from fully remembering, I was gonna tell you as soon as I could, but everything was happening so fast and at first I couldn’t recognize anything until the settlement we found… but I can’t… I’m trying my hardest, I swear but–” Joel grips your shoulders and you freeze, “Look at me.” You can feel your heartbeat racing, the anxiety running through your bloodstream and crippling your ability to breathe, “Hey… Hey. Look at me. It will be fine, we’ll figure it out, together.” Your eyes slowly fix on him as the both of you stood there, you know Joel doesn’t make promises, he isn’t at that point yet, but his sense of needing to care for you, to find a way to get rid of your distress, is slowly overpowering his practicality right now. He feels it within himself as his eyes are steadily on yours, trying to keep you grounded, here with him. Slowly, you come back to yourself and take a deep breath, mimicking his breathing.

The world was brighter before you had learned to dim it down, now you call it survival, breath is borrowed and our compass within you stands still. Beneath your brave and trusting feet, all revelations come to you in recovery, you start to nod at the man in front of you, who had his hand still gripped on your shoulders, “I’m fine. I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

You hadn’t realized that the rest of the group had stopped a few steps ahead of you to give you and Joel the privacy you needed, he lets go and you follow him forward, Ellie only gives you a reassuring smile and you gently smile back at her. There are rows of houses sound asleep, and only streetlamps notice you, while you look for signals, for a clue.

Joel continues to lead the pack and you hear Henry comment from behind you, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because my plan worked.” You look up to the sky in annoyance as you, “Can you not say shit like that. It’ll jinx us.” And Joel clicks his tongue at him, “So much goddamn talkin’.” Ellie smirks at both of your attitudes while Henry points out, “I’m just sayin’, I deliver.” He raises his arm and directs, “Make this right, go down the street embankment behind the last house… and we’re out.”

Ellie peers at Henry questioning him, “So we cross the river, and then what? Where ya gonna go?” He ponders for a moment, “Don’t know yet.” And Ellie can’t help herself as she says to him, “Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming.” Joel turns his head to glare at Ellie, she shrugs at him, “What? It’s a huge state. It can fit two more people.” He looks ahead, not wanting to argue with her, Henry senses Joel doesn’t want them joining, “Yeah. Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.” Ellie replies, “No. He’ll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” Then she begins to mock Joel’s tone and voice, “He’s like, ‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.’ And then I’m like,  ‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like–”

The sound of a bullet piercing through one of the rusting cars on the side of the street causes all five of you to flinch and duck your heads, you hear Ellie scream, “Fuck!” You’re all confused and puzzled, looking for the source of the sound. A second shot rings out and you all fully process you’re now in a potentially life-threatening situation. Joel shouts and covers you all, “Move! Move! Go!” You all run to hide behind a car, and get low on the ground, “Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asks and Joel hisses at him, “Shut up.”

Joel peeks to try and identify where the sniper is positioned, he sees a muzzle flash go off at the end of the road, the highest window of the last house, and he ducks back down. The sharp sound of glass shattering behind you. You hear Henry, “Shit. All right, fuck. Let’s move. Let’s go.” And proceeds to grab Sam by the wrist, attempting to run away, Joel yells at them for their naiveness, “What are you doin’?” He replies, “Gettin’ the fuck outta here!” But another gunshot rings out, hitting the rooftop of one of the nearby cars, Henry reacts and drags Sam back to the three of you, he asks panting, “What do we do?” Joel tries to peek again and luckily the guy misses and hits the car’s trunk.

After assessing the situation, Joel tucks his revolver back in his gun holster, “All right. Stay here.” Ellie whips her head to look at him and you do the same, all at once you both say, “What?” He brings his body to fully face the both of you, “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house from the back, and then I’ll take him out.” Ellie brings up her valid concern, her voice filled with worry, “But if you go out there he’s gonna kill you.” Joel responds with confidence, “It’s dark and he has shit aim. Nobody’s gonna kill me.” She tries to argue, “Then he’s gonna kill us.”

A beat passes. Then Joel looks directly at Ellie, his eyes firm and steady, with no ounce of doubt, he asks her full of conviction, “Do you trust me?” Ellie swallows down her fear, blinks, and nods. “Birdie, watch over her,” Joel commands and leaves you no room or time to argue, he gets up and proceeds to make his way over to the house down the road.

You and Ellie anxiously watch from a distance, each second you’re secretly praying and wishing that nothing happens to him. Your heart is beating so loudly, the sound of drums beating and thumping non-stop, your worry so evident that you try and stop the oncoming tears that threaten to spill off your face. How quickly did you grow attached to someone who you once believed wasn’t even real? The truth is, the chances are you are alike, against the odds and the grain. Against what better judgment writes, you both ache like children for love. You have no stakes on the ground or an anchor tied down. There are no guarantees, you know nothing but your fears of attachment and neediness.

You toss your feelings away, letting them sink deep below the ocean floor in your chest. It doesn’t matter. You remind yourself and watch him make his way to the back of the house, no longer seeing the silhouette of his figure. Two more loud pops and then the gunfire stops, the four of you sit in quiet eerie silence. You couldn’t tell if minutes or an hour had passed, but a distant gunshot could be heard, this time not directed at any of you. 

You hear a revving car from a distance, and Joel distant yell but is unable to understand what he’s trying to communicate. Ellie’s ears perk up and you all stand to see lights appearing from a distance. Shit. You grab Ellie by the wrist and yell out, “Run!” You feel your whole body working; your leg muscles running warm, cold air entering your lungs and blood flowing into all your limbs. Your calves burned, and your breath formed clouds in the air. You look up at the house while sprinting, and from a distance you see Joel trying to take out the driver of the plow that was barreling through the cars. You and Ellie try to shoot while running, but it does essentially nothing to stop the truck.

The tensions heighten when Joel’s rifle jams and you three are helplessly trying to evade the plow. But this jam provides pause for Joel to collect his breath and re-aim, so the next shot he fires takes out the plow driver. The large truck crashes into a house, causing it to go ablaze and a loud explosion occurs. Ellie falls to the grown and you pick her right back up, quickly ushering her to Henry and Sam, who were hiding behind one of the old and rotting cars, you ask her, “You okay?” She replies with a small, “Yeah.” You hear a loud voice coming from a woman, assuming it’s Kathleen, “Dead end, Henry. Gonna step on out? Save us some time? No? That’s all right, it doesn’t matter.”

Henry looks at Sam, who’s terrified and shaking, he yells out, “I’ll come out! Just let the girl and the kids go!” Kathleen clicks her tongue and in a calm tone, she responds, “No. Sorry. Those two girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… Well, Sam’s with you.” Henry argues, “You don’t understand!” And the rebel leader pushes back, “But I do. I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?” His voice chokes up as answered, “He’s just a fucking kid!” You can hear the way Kathleen rolls her eyes, “Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he’s worth… everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

You couldn’t help yourself, the lightheadedness you feel, the built-up stress, the adrenaline within you, the gasoline that had turned into a flame, an anger that could match a bull’s, recklessly you shout at her, “I’m sorry about Michael, I am. But, Kathleen, can you fucking look past your revenge? Past your hate? Did you even fucking realize that none of this would have happened, your so-called freedom and victory over FEDRA would have never happened if your brother hadn’t died.”

“You have no idea what it’s fucking like! To be without him! He was everything!” She shrieks and you raise your voice louder, “I fucking do! To have everything you’ve known and loved taken away from you? To lose? I know it all too well. Kathleen, can’t you see? We all lost. All of us lost the day the outbreak happened.” There was a pause, and you hear the gears turning in their heads, you continue, “Will killing us bring them back from the dead, or will it just validate your anger? The world ended and all this time we’ve wasted trying to kill each other instead of working together to try and fix the obvious problem. And for what? Tell me. What good did it do?”

A collective silence fills the air, save for the only noise coming from the burning house across the street, Kathleen shakes her head and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, sealing her fate, “I don’t care.” 

You shake your head in disappointment, Henry grabs you by the wrist, “Get ready to take them and run.” You start to argue but reassures you, “Yes! Do it.” You grab Ellie’s hand while she holds Sam’s, ready to run. You hear Kathleen speak again, “It’s time, Henry. Enough!” He takes a deep breath before you watch him stand up, his hands in the air, walking into their view. Kathleen shrugs, “It ends the way it ends.” The click of a gun could be heard, and you anticipate the gunshot but instead hear a loud rumbling noise.

You peek past the cars to see the plow truck has damaged the basement of the house, caving a hole into the sewers below, and then you hear the familiar sound of groans and screeching. The Infected geyser up out of the hole, all at once, sprinting towards the rebels. The sounds of gunfire rang out and more infected came up out of the hole, they seemed infinite. Henry joins back to the three of you and hides behind the truck, a Clicker chases after him and stands atop the truck only for it to get shot by Joel. Henry grabs Sam and decides to run away, you and Ellie do the same. Only for you to get separated when a Clicker grabs Ellie, and Joel shoots it from the perch. The impact causes you both to fall, this is when you and Ellie spot an open car window. Knowing you won’t fit, you tell Ellie, “Go, I’ll help clear the way and then find another way to the house.” She nods and begins to crawl, and you raise your gun and fire at the infected, trying your best to protect Ellie, doing what Joel asked of you. Hearing the more shots from above, you knew Joel was also clearing the way for Ellie.

When she crawls through the window, your mind begins to race. You need to find cover and fast. Finding another car, you duck behind it, reloading your gun as you do. You shouldn’t draw attention, and make as minimal noise as possible. The screams of rebels being attacked fill your ears as well as cars ramming over dozens of Infected. A Clicker approaches you but you push down your fear and side-step it, twisting your body and then shooting twice at its head. It falls limp to the ground, a Runner tries to grab you but you manage to hit it with the butt of your gun, shooting it straight in the head.

You hear a large growl from the crater, and turn your body to look for the noise. Motherfucker. A Bloater begins to emerge from the underground, completely covered in fungal armor plating, its belly sagging and spores popping out from each part of its body. The massive beast tears into the army like it's made of paper people. No amount of bullets will do any damage to the Bloater, and you have zero molotov cocktails, the best course of action was to get Ellie and run. You spot and see Ellie hastily crawl out of the van, a child clicker screaming from the inside of the car. You dart your eyes to see where Ellie is going and spot Henry and Sam surrounded by two Infected.

You sprint your way over there, helping Ellie get rid of the first Clicker and Joel shooting the second one from a distance. A thin layer of sweat covers the back of your neck, and you can feel the aching of your back, as you fight off another Clicker, its mouth screeching at you and trying to bite you. Another loud pop of a gunshot rings out and the Clicker goes limp, you take a large breath and grab Ellie, along with Sam and Henry. The young girl yells out, “Come on… come on! Go… Go!”

You make it out past all the chaos to the front area of the last house, as you run, you hear Kathleen shout, “Stop!” All of you turn to face her, she has a gun pointed directly at Henry. Your heart is racing, and your breathing rate rises rapidly, you bring your eyes to an infected crawling from behind the fence, and Kathleen turns to see what you’re looking at. She was too slow to react, the child Clicker shrieked and jumped on top of her, and the leader of the rebellion fell to the ground screaming. The creature thrashes and mauls her alive as she’s screeching for her life. A car crash you couldn’t turn away from, as you watched her get bit, mumbling under your breath, “Comeuppance.”

Joel makes his way downstairs and outside the house to find all of you frozen, he yells to get his group's attention, “This way now! Move!” Joel is the last to follow, ensuring everyone’s safety. Even from a large distance, you could hear the hundreds of clickers making their way into Kansas City, ready to infect and destroy the foundations they have built.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

With the fighting over, the five manage to find a safe refuge away from the carnage. A motel suite far away from the infected in the city, for now. The stars are a choir in the symphony of the black; they are lights that sing in limitless ways. Sometimes music is needed for the eyes, and the deeper the night, the sweeter the melody.

You, Joel, and Henry sit in the musty living room area. Henry is sitting on top of a bedside table, while Joel is sitting on the floor, one leg curled up to his chest while the other is stretched out, he has his back to the radiator, and you are next to him curled into a ball, elbows almost brushing, but they don’t. You can hear the chirping of crickets, indicating the bugs have come out to play and exchange stories. The only source of light is the yellow glow from the bedroom, you watch Ellie and Sam continue to read the comic book that they found from the settlement.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asks, still eating the remaining food you’ve packed. Joel nods, “Yeah, I think. It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway.” There’s an audible gulp as he swallows, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.” Henry nods, “Well… I guess we’re doing a good job then.” Joel agrees, “What’s that comic book say? Endure and survive?” And the other man confirms it, “Endure and survive. That’s shits redundant.” Joel gives a breathy laugh, “Yeah, it’s not great.” Henry chuckles with him, “Yeah, no.”

You get up from the floor, not having the heart to tell them how they were wrong. Those kids now felt an enormous amount of responsibility for one another. And to survive means to stave off death, but to endure means to emotionally harden oneself, and tolerate the pain of survival. You begin to walk out the door of the room and Joel calls your name but you don’t turn around, he calls for you again, “Where are you goin’?” You don’t look at him as you lie through your teeth, “I’m just gonna go look at the stars for a bit. I’ll be right outside the door.” You exit the room after that, quietly shutting the door, and sitting on the pavement that faces the parking lot.

You let out a loud sigh, close your eyes, and cover them with your hands. You’re completely worn out, your mind is full but you can't speak, these tired gears, and you’re here somewhere between, drained from the events of today. You remove your hands from your face and take the gun out of your holster, letting it lay flat on the palms of your hand. The heavyweight of your decision rests on a single action.

You nervously lift the left sleeve of your jacket, the bitemarks of the infection are there, but there is no sign of it spreading, no yellowing or puss seeping out of your skin. Your mouth partially opens in shock and confusion, with only one thought in your mind. What the fuck?

You pull the sleeve of your jacket down. This doesn’t make any fucking sense. Then again, you’re in a supposed fictional world with its main cast of characters. None of it should make sense. But you figured, the rules would apply to you as well, that you could get infected. You felt ignorant, humiliated, and painfully unmagical. You are old enough to distinguish a sorceress from a lonely girl, and magic from survival. You make every effort to leave the past alone; it is the result of living in the between, the weight of your found family, and the pull of gravity.

You slowly form your hypothesis in your head as to why you’re immune. Could it be because you weren’t supposed to be here in the first place? You recall something from your previous research notes, ‘In theory, it could be possible to analyze the state of every atom in a person’s body and transmit it to a new location, where the person could be reassembled atom by atom.’

You take a large inhale and rest your head on your hand, which means needing enough information and processing power by using a quantum system, and while measuring, there are multiple possibilities, until the measurement is conducted. But that processing power would have needed an immense amount of energy.

In the tug of war between the tide, you were swept ashore like bottles holding prayers. The courage you contained, and the flutter of your earnest heart, will fill the silent seas, and it has restored a part of your memory. Radiation has become a key factor in the multiple theories you’ve read over the years. So when your atoms had been reassembled, your body must have also mutated and adapted to kill foreign infections, including the Cordyceps.

You hear the sound of the door closing and you don’t need to guess who was there behind you. With the heavy footsteps and sound of the rustling jacket, he quietly groans as he sits next to you on the pavement, the smell of ash and smoke exuding from his being. Joel notices the gun, which was now on your lap but he remains silent, not knowing what to say or do, while you’re deciding if you should share what you’ve discovered with him. You didn’t even register that you were bouncing your leg up and down again until he cautiously and slowly placed his hand on your knee, which caused you to stop the action.

You tilt your head to look at him, and he sees the clear glaze around your eyes, this moment, where you recognize you have no idea what the future holds anymore and the story you’ve been silently telling yourself about what the future is going to be like, has fallen apart in a matter of minutes. It doesn’t get replaced with any new information, it’s simply vanished, an atmospheric tumult. You find no comfort in this discovery, it's like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark and mistaking one stair for another. Your foot slips through the air, and you have a sickening moment of gloomy astonishment as you struggle to reset your perspective. 

You are desperate for some kind of clue, this kind of fear of the unknown terrifies you, the sudden obliteration of expectation, the overwhelming feeling of frustration and fear builds up and rushes down like a rapid river stream. You bite down your lip to stop it from trembling and fold your hands to stop them from shaking. You’re trying to find the best way to avoid confrontation or conflict, but Joel still has his hand on your knee, not letting you get up and leave again without explaining yourself. You could be described as a great river, one which can carry everything along with them but with a hidden dammed-up reservoir of energy. You have very little access to it, due to feeling bad for rocking the boat. For this reason alone, you are generally tired all the time.

Take a deep breath to center yourself, willing yourself to not stutter, and you tell him word by word what you’ve discovered and the possibility of how you got into this world. He stays silent, listening to every word coming out of your mouth, even the science jargon he’s not used to. But what he does understand is, you’re immune just like Ellie. He’s still silent by the time you’re done, and you’re so nauseous that you might throw up on him. You turn away from him, waiting for him to lash out at you, scream and leave you behind. He takes his hand away from your knee, you feel the air in your lungs refusing to leave, and you shut your eyes, anticipating the warm body next to you to walk away.

Instead, he removes the gun from your lap and places it on the ground right next to him, then he holds your elbow cautiously and gently, and your eyes open in surprise, you watch him roll up your sleeve to see the bite completely faded, leaving an almost unnoticeable scar. He brings his eyes to yours and he anchors you down safely, there is rage in his eyes, and you quietly whisper, “Joel?”

You feel his hands squeezing your arm as he hissed at you, “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You should’ve known better than to go out there fightin’ all those infected. How could you be so reckless? What were you thinkin’?” You’re befuddled by his sudden lashing out, you narrow your eyes and try to uncover what he truly meant, and you try to calmly reply, “Joel, it’s okay... Next time, I’ll be more careful, and since I’m immune–” He talks over you, stern and unsmiling, “There will be no next time.” You pull back a little from him, “What? Are you serious? I’m immune and there was barely a scratch on me when the car–” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his voice so cold as he says, “You got hurt. Twice. Because of me. Of what I did and keep asking you to do and you would’ve ended up like–”

You frown and can’t help the questions in your mind spiral, what if your injury had gotten worse or you hadn’t been immune? You could have turned. Just like Tess. Does he believe you’re her replacement? That you could be like her? Or you could end up like her?

You blink at him, putting more distance between you two, there is a war inside of you, you are out of depth at this altitude, it’s suffocating you, and feel your walls cave in. Your throat closes up at the thought of him thinking you were like her, that you could ever be her replacement, and your voice is soft and vulnerable as you admit the words you never wanted to say, “Joel… I’m not her. I’m not Tess.” He flinches and recognizes the hurt in your tone, and his heart sinks to his stomach faster than a stone hitting the bottom of a lake. You turn away from him, not wanting to give in to his warmth and strong protective nature, “I’m not her.”

The absence of sound between you two is deafening and consuming all that it touches. In your mind, you beg for it to stop, the need to fill the gaps with a problem you both don’t need. With folded arms and tired eyes, you try your hardest not to cry. The heavy ache in his chest leaves him restless and unable to find the right words to say. Sensing that there was nothing left to say, you stand up and turn to walk away but Joel grabs your wrist and you bring yourself to look at him to see his eyes silently pleading for you to stay. You bite the inside of your cheek and sit back down, expecting Joel to let go but he doesn’t. This causes you to lift your eyes and find him with his mouth open, trying his best to communicate with you without his pride and anger getting in the way of something good.

“You’re right, you aren’t Tess.” He said with his voice low, and can’t help the tears spill out from the rim of your eyes, you whip your head away from him, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp but he doesn’t let up, “Joel, let go of me.” He doesn’t, instead, he holds you tighter and says, “You aren’t Tess, Birdie. You are so much more than that… You are one of the good in my life that I… Hummin’ bird, I don’t know what I’d do if…”

He has trouble continuing, him admitting fragments of what he said shook you to your core. You’re incredibly clever but it takes you a while to process what he meant, so you tilt your head and try to see past his defenses, with these tall invisible walls he keeps himself in. You try to understand his perspective, it is why your mouth forms an ‘o’, not a gasp but the start of, oh, of course. He doesn’t see you as her. But he is angry, yes, but not at you, at himself. He wasn’t able to fully protect you. He made the tough call of crashing the car into the laundromat and you got hurt in the process. And then specifically asked you to watch over Ellie for him and you got bitten because of what he asked you to do. 

You slowly lift your other hand to rest on his cheek, and he flinches, but after a moment he allows himself to relax, unsure and clumsy, you say, “Joel. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m here with you. See?” You feel the want of thrill, of taking a risk. The pleasure of feeling the rush as feel yourself grow warmer. You let it happen.

The cracks begin to show, he feels his restraint slipping away, brick by brick and piece by piece. His struggle is not anymore with you, but with himself, his fears and desires, and the cognitive dissonance arising within. God, he’s so afraid, he wants so badly for his selfishness to win, and chooses to flutter his eyes close, with your hand still on his cheek, gently stroking his face, and for once, he thinks to himself, just for tonight, he leans closer to your touch, letting you become his sanctuary.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You had fallen asleep on the dark green carpeted floor next to Joel, using both of your jackets as pillows. Joel had moved in his sleep again and curled himself around you. His heavy warm arms wrapped around your waist and the ghost of his breath on your neck.

A loud thump and the sound of Ellie screaming jolts you and Joel awake. You sit up and see Sam tackle Ellie out the door of their bedroom. She hits the carpet, trying to fight off Sam, who’s scratching and shrieking at her, he has turned into the first stage of the infection. Ellie’s yells are piercing through your ears and you crawl to reach for the gun next to you, only for Henry to snatch it before you.

“Nope!” Henry says as he aims the gun at you and Joel, and Ellie is shrieking your names, for you and Joel to save her. You and Joel have a look of pure rage as you both try and take a step forward only for Henry to shoot at the floor, causing both of you to flinch back. Ellie tries again, wailing and crying out your names, and it only takes a second, before Henry turns the gun and shoots Sam right through the head. Blood splatters on the wall and the young superhero goes limp on the ground.

Your entire body is trembling, while Ellie is kneeling on the ground, looking at Sam’s lifeless body, you look at Henry, who is whimpering and sobbing, he blinks and watches his little brother’s blood stain the carpet, like spilling ink. Joel is heavily breathing and focuses on the young girl, “Ellie,” she turns numbly at him, “Are you okay?” He goes walk towards her, only for Henry to point the revolver at Joel’s head. Without a second thought, you step forward, protecting Joel from Henry. You raise your hands in front of you and plead, “Henry, easy, easy… Henry, please give me the gun.” His breath is shaking and erratic as he asks, “What did I do?” You try and calm him down, “Henry…” He doesn’t listen and still asks, “What did I do? What… what did I do?” He looks down at Sam’s limp and still body, the blood still pooling onto the carpet. A dark shade of maroon continued to seep out from his skull. “Sam?” He asks, lips quivering and his eyes full of fear, he looks back over to you, and you wail, “Henry, please don’t–”

He aims the pistol at his head, and you swore you saw before you blinked. There was no second thought, no going back or erasing. An avalanche now spent in white flag waking days. The loud pop, thud, and shriek follow in a sequence that will haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life, a memory wielded as a weapon. Every good intention is overshadowed by the stain of the past. Death is a blindfolded, bitter kiss. It's the finger put against your lips, emphasizing how they should have lived.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

OUTSIDE THE ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You and Joel are outside, and the sound of shoveling dirt is a sound you’ve now grown to despise. The cold wind moves in only to meet the warmth of your blood, the only defense you have left. You feel it wash over your skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of your aching heart. Fairness is a ghost, and its sightings take shape in such permanent truth. In the sullen silence, you were all taking turns shattering apart.

Ellie had gone back inside the motel room to get the rest of your things as you and Joel patted down the dirt, creating a small graveyard for the two brothers. If you could turn back the hourglass, you would. Reset every grain of sand, and give these two a proper chance at living the life they should have lived, you would. Your mind continues to spin webs of question marks and regrets as you stop your movements and stand there with instability. Ellie toses two backpacks on the ground, you watch her kneel on one knee and place the doodle pad on Sam’s grave, with ‘I’m Sorry’ written on it, the string of the pen is wrapped around the top and the pen is safely tucked in, making sure no one else will be able to write anything else.

Ellie stands up and asks Joel, “Which way’s west?” He only responds by tilting his head in the direction of it. She’s the first to walk away this time, a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury her innocence. You and Joel say nothing as you stare at the note, and hear her call for you both, “Let’s go.”

You both drop your shovels and grab your things, catching up to Ellie. Your steady true north fades, the three of you walking toward where the sun sleeps and casting your silhouettes as you do. Maybe there’s no answer here, at least neither one of you are ready to hear. No string of words will justify it or a simple equation to show you the solution and answer. In the meantime, you learn that you don’t have all the answers, just a little light to call your own, though sometimes it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows. 

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

I am a hundred percent sure this was the fastest chapter I’ve written and felt so much easier than Episode 4 ohMYGAHD

HOW ARE WE FEELING?? ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??? DRINK SOME WATER BREATHEEE

YAY YOU’RE IMMUNE CONGRATS AHHH *confetti canon*

Wait why r u not happy you’re immune- oh right, you don't know what's gonna happen to you now that you have that information and it doesn't add anything good— it just makes you feel bad lol that sucks (the sudden obliteration of expectation) cause you’ve been telling a narrative you’ve always known and it’s changed and you have no fricken clue what's next

DID I GO BACK AND FORTH WONDERING IF THE READER SHOULD BE IMMUNE: YEP, A LOT… IT KEPT ME UP TILL 4 AM AND I CHOSE THIS BCS tbh it makes sense (??) you’re already a hecking anomaly, might as well be immune too :> Also, I’d like to hope this decision helped the story progress further… I think

Did the science make sense?? I hope so, I researched a lot on quantum teleportation and its possibilities. In theory, yes it’s probable. If you can manage to send every information about the atoms in your body, then send it to a specific time and place, which would take a massive amount of energy and processing power to do, yes u can teleport hooray! I'm just gonna assume radiation plays a part in the energy aspect and then since fungal infections can’t withstand that amount of heat from the radiation and your body has adapted— yeah you get the rest. (You’re not glowing radiation, it's just your immune system can fight the fungi lol)

I know a lot of people are gonna be rolling their eyes and saying, “why am I immune, goSH, so cliCHE, Y/N? knOWS ASL TOO?? WHY AM I SO SPECIAL?? I want to get bitten and be useless and not connect with anY chAracters–” well pretty thing, you’re one of the main characters! Ofc you’re special, you freaking discovered how to get to the TLOU world, I can’t have you dying on me… yet… silly!

Joel is having internal conflict with literally with his feelings about Ellie and yOU <3 I hope I portrayed that properly and well enough. Lowkey needed to write the miscommunication part because that question of if you were just a replacement for Tess was brewing in the back of your mind. Joel being him can’t fully express his feelings properly, so you settle for the broken sentences he has to offer and piece together the shards to find clues of what he means. Later on, it will be easier for him but for now, you both take baby steps.

But God writing that part had so many revisions and played every single possible scenario in my head— constantly questioning if it was good enough. Like was the thing I was trying to do between the reader and Joel natural and seamless? Did this conflict get resolved at all? Did I do this too soon?? Idk I’m just trying my best and I’m a sucker for Joel giving in bit by bit T^T (i mean i didn't make them kiss yet so I'm assuming wasn’t so rUSHED)

This episode centered around Joel rethinking his relationship with Ellie and YOU hehe. But I did want to give Sam and Henry the spotlight they deserved as well. I tried my best to find the balance in all of this, I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone with this chapter :&lt;<

oKAY INTO EPISODE 6 I GO, time to rewatch the pain again T^T

Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale  @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe@missdragon-1 @ponyboys-sunsets @ipadkidsworld @otternanamilolo @issybee0611 @technicallysassyfox @cupcakemachete

[carniferous]

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them. 

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light. 

He felt his heart soften, just a tad. 

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide. 

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking. 

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown. 

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze. 

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential. 

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself. 

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.