#just everything about it from the window to the morning in bed

[astralis-ortus]

care for you

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— to keep you safe is my priority.

w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff warning → reader addressed as baby and love♡ a.n → based on this request! this was really sweet, even writing this made me feel safe and warmㅠ♡

originally, your plan was to have a short date night with your boyfriend. just some dinner somewhere near his studio, maybe take short walk after, and he’ll wait with you until your usual bus—after skipping at least one or two—arrives and take you away from his grasp. that’s all, nothing much, just to recharge your love batteries until the next time you could see each other again.

that was your plan—but it seems like seoul’s early summer weather has its own plan against you.

dinner was great. you and chan decided to try out the new sushi place located somewhere in between his apartment and studio instead. his teammates have all gone, and you’re pretty sure the only reason why he hasn’t been there was to keep it as an option for your date nights. you appreciate the effort, of course; you could kind of imagine the teasing your boyfriend had to sit through when he decided to pass on their little team dinner—all the ‘ew you’re so lovesick’ and ‘wow so now we’re no longer your priority?’ kind of joke, so you made sure dinner was as fun as it could be.

it was during your walk, however, when things started to go south.

with your hand in his warm ones, you arrived at one of the smaller parks near chan’s apartment. the weather was nice, albeit admittedly rather chilly for a summer night. you didn’t pay much attention to it though—afterall, the weather forecast said that the day will end without any rain at sight, and more often than not, the weather forecast is rather accurate.

well, apparently that wasn’t the case today.

not even 5 minutes since you stepped within the park’s perimeters, the wind started to pick up its strength and blew everything within its vicinity. the drops of water then started shortly after, and what felt like nature’s warning soon developed into a full-blown thunderstorm. bringing you home was nothing short of chan’s instinct to keep you safe.

as soon as you arrived at chan’s shared apartment with 3 of his teammates—which fortunately was still out doing their own schedules and plans, chan immediately ushered you inside his bathroom for a warm shower while he put your (and his) drenched clothes in the washer, pulling out one of his hoodie and sweats for you to change into before taking his turn while you dry your now chan-scented hair.

you weren’t planning on staying the night—you’ve never stayed the night whenever you visited chan’s apartment, and neither did chan when he visited yours. it’s not that you didn’t want to—but for chan’s sake, you two decided it’s better not to. when the thunderstorms weren’t dying down as hours passed by, however, chan couldn’t in his right mind allow to you to even think about stepping out of his clothes.

so here you are, laying wide awake at 1 in the morning on chan’s bed, enveloped in chan’s scent, trying to think more about the fact that you’ll be spending your first ever night over at chan’s place rather than the roaring thunder outside the window.

chan, however, was nowhere near you.

after tucking you to bed around an hour ago, right around the time where his 3 teammates arrived home with his laptop on hand—all more surprised about the fact that chan left his laptop in his studio than how you’re all cozied up in their shared space, chan simply wished you a good night before he slipped outside, walking right into whatever hushed commotion between the 4 young men. you really wished he hadn’t, though.

a sudden loud thunder caught you off guard, allowing a rather loud yelp to slip past your lips before you could even stop yourself. it didn’t even take a second before you heard a crack from the direction of the door, soon followed by a dip on the mattress on your right as a hand gently patted your shoulder.

“i’m here, baby—are you okay?” chan’s voice were soft, trying his best not to sound too worried as you peeked from under his beige duvet, eyes glossy with a little pout. the weak shake of your head made him feel a little guilty—chan was just trying to make you feel comfortable since it’s your first time staying at his place, and he didn’t want to push you too far by sleeping right next to you.

maybe that wasn’t the right decision after all.

“i don’t like thunderstorms,” you quietly admitted, a little embarrassed about the fact. thunderstorms always scare you, but you never really found the need to tell anyone since you usually would just pop a melatonin gummy should these sorts of nights come around and sleep before the thunders rage. tonight, however, was something you never thought would ever happen to you—at least not any time soon.

“can you accompany me tonight?” your question came out more of a whisper—but for chan, it sounded a thousand times louder than any of the thunders he had heard tonight.

“of course, baby,” his lips formed into a smile as chan brought his lips on to your forehead, “give me 5 minutes, yeah? i’ll clean up my set up and join you in bed.”

as soon as you confirmed with a nod, chan was out the door, hurriedly packing up his emergency set up—much to han and changbin’s confusion, but he got no time to entertain the younger two’s questions. he was as speedy as he could be, and in less than 2 minutes, he’s already all cozied up under the duvet next to you, engulfing you in his warmth.

“all better, love?” he hummed, fingers tracing patterns on your back over your—his, hoodie. “i’m sorry, i thought you would be more comfortable if you slept alone. i had no idea you hated thunderstorms.”

“it’s okay, i didn’t think it would be this bad too,” you mumbled, burying your face into his clothed chest and contently sighed upon listening to his steady heartbeat—which unfortunately wasn’t much of a help when you flinched over another loud thunder.

chan, however, was quick to your rescue as he gently started humming to tenerife sea, drowning any remaining sounds outside while pulling you impossibly closer to him. as the song ends, he then swiftly started to another, slowly inviting sleep over your now heavy eyelids.

“thank you, channie. i love you,” you forced a mumble, allowing your legs to tangle with chan’s before you finally succumbed to sleep, all comfortable in your boyfriend’s embrace—and when chan was finally entirely sure your breathing had come into a steady exhale, only then his hums came to a halt, lips pressed onto your forehead as he drifted to sleep.

“sweet dreams, baby. i love you.”

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

[kingorqueenofnarnia]

Peter, fifteen and fresh out of a bloody and brutal war, sneaking out of Cair Paravel in the middle of the night and going to the river, sticking his head into ice-cold water to shock himself out of a nightmare riddled sleep. Narnia won, but at what cost?

Peter, lying in Susan's bed with his fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her skirts, dried tear tracks on his face and Susan singing quietly in an effort to comfort him. Her fingers pick apart the strands of his hair and he falls asleep only to wake up an hour later with screams on his lips.

Peter, wrapping his arms around an Edmund who has returned from war and murmuring frantic thanks to the Gods for keeping him alive. He presses kisses on Edmund's forehead, cheeks, nose and eyelids, and considers the idea of never letting any of his siblings out of his sight ever again.

Peter, sitting on the High King's throne at the age of thirteen and wondering if he is worthy of this, if he deserves this, if he is capable of this. He is thirteen and barely knows anything about anything and he is High King who should know everything about everything is he worthy is he deserving is he capable he does not know—

Peter, in Lucy's room sitting on the floor with his back pressed to her bed, allowing her to braid flowers into his hair as he stares at the wall. The Victory Parade is in a few hours, but they lost many soldiers and people and Peter has lost sleep and sanity and good friends. Narnia has won but Peter has lost.

Peter, carrying a candle to the Castle Library at two in the morning and pulling out a book about children's fables. He cannot sleep, might as well distract himself. The candle dies down and the sun comes up, and Peter drags himself back to his quarters to get ready.

Peter, who locks himself in his chambers and does not come out for days and days, who refuses food and drink and buries himself under his blankets and stares out the window with blank eyes and slack eyebrows, who does not speak and does not cry and pushes his face into his pillow and screams for the nightmares to go away please I'll do better I just want to sleep please stop please—

Peter, who wants peace and contentment, but cannot help but go to war. Peter, who is quiet and introspective but needs to be loud and abrasive because he is High King. Peter, who wishes he could put down the sword that he wields as easily as he breathes.

Peter, who desires peace, but becomes a God of War

[coriosbunni]

𐙚⊹ ࣪ - kiss me

pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: straight up fluff, hint of daddy issues :p, slight ooc!coriolanus ?

summary: a peaceful morning in a cabin where y/n wakes up thinking about her relationship with coriolanus.

you wake up to the sounds of the bird chirping outside of the windows. it was a hot night and with no air conditioning, it was hard to sleep with no type of air circulation. corio rectified the problem by opening all the windows to let the cool night breeze in.

you blink your eyes open, seeing coriolanus's buzzed hair in your view right away. you smile thinking back the events from last night. after making dinner together, he showed his love for you in a way that made you glad no one could hear you for miles and miles.

your life with corio in district 12 was different than your life in the capitol. after disobeying your father's advice to not fall in love with a snow, he let you follow your boyfriend in district 12 after he was sent there for helping his tribute win the hunger games. he thought a lesson is learned best when you experience it for yourself.

you obviously had a different opinion on your relationship with corio than your father did. to you, corio was the only one you could lean to. unlike your father, he actually cared about you and protected you. you were glad to have a man like him in your life.

you get up from the bed carefully and decide to go out to the porch to let your mind wander. you sit on the chair and tuck your legs close to you.

you miss your family back home, but what good is a family if they never supported you? they never bothered to even give you an ounce of attention. the snows were the only one you could really count as a family.

tigris was closer to you than your actual sister. you were thankful to have grown up with the snows. they gave you love and affection that your own family never did.

coriolanus was the best thing to happen to you. you couldn't believe you were finally living your lives alone, together. you continue to ponder about your new life with your boyfriend.

coriolanus stirs in bed, feeling y/n's absence beside him. he opens his eyes groggily, scanning the empty space beside him, and then suddenly noticing the open front door. concern and worry flood his mind as he quickly sits up in bed and glances around, searching for his lover.

he stands up quietly, stepping out of bed and padding silently over to the porch, his heart racing with worry and apprehension. but it all goes away once he lays his eyes on you sitting peacefully.

he approaches you with a slight worry in his eyes. he didn't know what to make of him waking up without you by his side. "is everything okay my love?" worry filling his voice.

"mmhm everythings okay corio" you smile up at him, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around his waist. the sudden hug took coriolanus by surprise but he isn't mad about it.

his arms wrap around you like a protective shield, he can tell theres a lot in your mind, "what you thinking about bunny?" he murmurs softly, his voice filled with love and concern.

"just glad to have you in my life 's all" you mumble still in his arms. he smiles at your response, his heart warming up to your words. he presses soft kisses on your hair and temples, his touch gentle and comforting.

"i feel the same way about you. you've brought so much joy and love to my life, and the thought of losing you breaks my heart." he responds. he cups your face in his hand, his gaze meeting yours, full of sincerity. "you are my everything bunny."

your heart swells with how in love you are with him. your chest fills with this bittersweet feeling that you can't get rid of. "i love you so much corio" you confess.

coriolanus's heart swells with love as he hears this. he pulls her as close as he can get, his embrace tight and protective. coriolanus gives you a kiss, your lips meeting in a tender and passionate embrace. he pours his love and devotion into the kiss, his arms tightening around you as he deepens it. "i am yours, my love," he whispers against your lips, his voice full of emotion and desire.

"forever and always."

your heart swells with love and contentment as he says those words, and he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, "and i am forever yours," you whisper back.

the feel of his forehead against yours, the closeness, and the safety of his embrace makes you feel like nothing could hurt you as long as you stayed together. your love and bond is unbreakable, and you know that you'll always have each other to lean on, no matter what the future holds.

your history with him shows how your love perseveres through anything.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Too Early

A/N: This is entirely the fault of @smw-on-kamino. We were chatting about Crosshair’s cuddling style (my personal HC: he’s very undemonstrative in public, but in private, he’s like Velcro), which led, inevitably, to thots.

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (Fem, has hair and smaller hands than Crosshair)

Rating: M (mature contented intended for adult audiences; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings and tags: fluff; SMUT; sleepy morning sex; fingering; nipple play; PIV; creampie; biting; no kissing on the mouth bc morning breath is a deadly thing, yo.

Summary: It's just smut. Soft, grumpy, morning smut. In the kitchen. Like you do.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: ISO Gamma Super by Ellis Brooklyn (soft woods, crisp sheets, skin musk)

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Your eyes adjusted slowly to the soft light that filtered through the curtains. Outside the open window, the only sounds you could hear were the quiet rustle of wind in the leaves, the distant crash of waves on the beach, and the chattering of countless moon-yos as they frolicked through Pabu. 

It was early.

Too early to wake up on a Benduday, you thought.

You rolled over as silently as possible, trying not to disturb your bedmate: a task not easily accomplished, considering his tendency to sprawl across the entire bed, draping his long limbs over you like a blanket. A tiny smile tugged at the corner your lips as you watched him sleep, your gaze drifting over him in the dim light, taking in the contrast of the crisp white linens against his warm, brown skin. His silver curls were tousled and wild, and judging by the rumpled bedding tangled around him, he must have had another restless night.

The temptation to kiss him awake was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t want to rouse him now that he was finally getting some sleep, so after admiring him for a few moments, you slipped out of bed, pulled on some pajamas, and crept out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind you.

Far too early to wake up on a Benduday, you thought again as you ground your palms into your eyes, then headed to the kitchen. You began to assemble the makings for caf and immediately realized you’d need to grind fresh beans. Maybe he won’t hear it? From my lips to the Maker’s ears, I suppose.

You winced at the obnoxious grating of the caf grinder, but mercifully, it was over quickly, and you thought perhaps you’d managed it without disturbing him. The water heated at last, and as you poured it into the caf press, you heard a soft footfall behind you, and then he slid his arms around you from behind. He grumbled quietly, burying his face in your hair.

A smile crinkled the corners of your eyes as you leaned back against him, resting your hands on top of his. You should have known better than to try to escape your bed without paying the cuddle tax. Crosshair liked his routine, and that routine began every day with holding you.

“Good morning,” you murmured as he continued to nuzzle your hair and neck.

“Mm,” he grumbled again, apparently not yet capable of forming words.

He pulled you tighter against his lean body, and his hands began to wander over you, tracing down to your hips, up your belly, between your breasts to caress the side of your throat, and back down again. The nuzzles turned to kisses, and he worked his way down from your hair, to your ear, down your neck, and across your shoulder, slipping the strap of your top off your shoulder and out of the way.

“That feels nice,” you whispered, closing your eyes and tilting your head back to rest against his shoulder.

His only reply was a soft growl as his left hand teased beneath the waistband of your pajamas and his right hand slid beneath your top to cup your breast and brush his thumb over your nipple. As his fingertips grazed over your clit and dipped into your pussy to find you already heated and slick with desire, he inhaled sharply. You felt the heat of his lips and tongue on the nape of your neck, the soft graze of his teeth on your skin sending shivers through your body and making your nipples harden against his palm.

He sank his finger into you and pulled your body more firmly against himself so you could feel the hard length of his cock grinding against your ass. A tiny moan escaped your throat as his long, lovely fingers played with your cunt, sliding languidly into your body again and again as he worked you open with a patience and skill that made you wonder just how long he’d actually been awake. 

His breath was rough and warm against your skin; his kisses roamed over you, tasting and savoring with thorough and unhurried attention to detail. Your hands drifted back to slide up his thighs, and you eased his pajama pants down his narrow hips and wrapped your fingers loosely around his cock. He thrust subtly into your hand with a soft groan, and his hand on your breast tightened for a moment, then slid down your waist. A quick tug, and your pajamas slipped down to puddle around your ankles.

He traced his hand up your body to your shoulder, then down your arm, until he reached the hand you had wrapped around him. His hand closed around yours, and he guided you over his length with a slow, strong grip. He sighed quietly with pleasure, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he worked himself with your hand. You shuddered quietly, biting your lip at the thought of him using your hand like a toy, or an extension of himself, as his strong fingers wrapped around your much smaller hand. You could feel him growing harder, and his cock grazed against your ass, leaving a bead of thick precum on your skin.

“Please,” you whispered. “I need you.”

“Mhm.” The warmth of his breath ghosted on your back as he let out a quiet, lustful sound that sent chills racing across your skin. 

He pulled your hand away from his cock and lifted it to his face, pressing his lips against your wrist, then guiding it to brace against the countertop. His fingers slid out of you, his knee nudged your thighs apart, and he leaned you forward just enough to slide his cock into your slick, desperate cunt. You gasped, pressing your ass back against him to welcome him fully into your body. 

“Fuck—” he grunted against your shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around you again and hauled you upright against his body. He cupped your breasts in both hands, massaging and rolling your nipples between his fingers as he thrust deeper into you, over and over, each movement pushing the breath from your lungs and drawing soft whimpers and moans from your lips. 

“I need more—” you whispered.

His teeth sank lightly into your neck, and he slid his hand from your breast down your belly, pressing his palm flat against you as his fingers circled just over your clit, working insistently as he continued to thrust into you. Pleasure shot through you, and you felt the tension begin to build in your body.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your ear. “Pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh—” The sound tore raggedly from you, and his hips stuttered as he heard the note of desperation in your voice.

“Gonna come for me?”

You nodded, your eyes glazed and unfocused with arousal. “Yes, I’m close—FUCK!”

Your orgasm slammed into you, and your vision exploded into a thousand stars. When your body convulsed against him and your legs gave out, his arms tightened around you, holding you securely upright. With a few final, hard thrusts, he followed close behind you, grunting loudly as the hot spurt of his cum flooded deep inside your body. 

He slumped forward abruptly, catching himself against the countertop so he didn’t crush you. His body was warm and heavy against your back as he leaned on you, pressing kisses to your neck and hair.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

You let out a quiet laugh and turned to kiss his cheek. “I think the caf’s gone cold.”

“Mm,” he grunted. “Too early for caf. Let’s go back to bed.”

---

Want more Crosshair? Here’s some hurt comfort and some fluff.

Taglist:

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[muddy-water-1997]

𝖠𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗇, 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗆𝗂𝗇

𝖠/𝖭: 𝖧𝗂 𝗁𝗂 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈, 𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖢𝖱𝖠𝖹𝖸. 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇! 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍.

Chapter 21- It Takes Two To Tango

It felt domestic. You woke up with your body nestled against Chris’s, his gentle snores a soothing melody. The beautiful Seoul sunshine streamed through the window, casting a warm, soft glow over your bed. Last night was a whirlwind of passion, heartfelt confessions, and arguments. You weren't sure where things stood with Seungmin or the rest of the boys, but right now, snuggled up with Chris, none of that seemed to matter.

You wanted to wake up and surprise him with breakfast or coffee, something sweet and thoughtful to show that everything was forgiven from last night. But you couldn't bring yourself to leave his side. This moment was too precious, too perfect to break. You took a moment to admire his features—his strong jawline, the gentle slope of his nose, the way his eyelids twitched softly from his dreams. It all felt too perfect as if the world might jolt you awake from this beautiful dream at any moment. Summoning your energy, you carefully pulled yourself away from him and tiptoed to the kitchen.

With a quiet hum, you put the kettle on and prepared two cups of coffee. You rummaged through the bags of food, hoping to find something that could pass for breakfast. Eggs, vegetables, milk… an omelette could work. The only problem was that your culinary skills were practically nonexistent. With work keeping you busy, your meals usually come from a box with clear instructions. If you ever enjoyed a home-cooked meal, it was because your best friend had come over and insisted on cooking for you amidst piles of paperwork.

Deciding to give it a go, you grabbed a bowl and some spices. How hard could fry a giant flat egg with some vegetables be to fry? As it turned out, very hard. The omelette didn't quite cooperate, becoming a scrambled mess with bits of vegetables awkwardly mixed in. Were the eggs supposed to turn that black? Shit. You forgot to oil the pan; the smell of burnt eggs and fresh coffee filled the space. 

“Cooking isn’t one of your strongest qualities,” Chan's voice came from behind you as you quickly tried to dispose of the burnt mess. “Let me help.” He chucked, walking over to the stove before cracking a few eggs into the pan. He looked so perfect, even in the morning: bedhead, tired eyes, and that beautiful smile that made your heart swell. 

“I managed the coffee!” you announced proudly, presenting one of the mugs to Chris with a smile. He accepted it graciously, clearly excited to caffeinate his body. The energy wasn’t the same as last night—awkward chuckles and silences filled the space between you. You both knew that, eventually, you’d have to talk about last night's confessions and Seungmin's outburst. But you didn’t want to disrupt Chris while he was cooking, so you perched yourself on the kitchen island, watching as he skillfully tossed vegetables into the pan. It already smelled much better than your attempt.

Sipping your coffee slowly, you embraced the awkward silence a little longer.

“Done,” Chris said, turning to you a few moments later with a smile as he presented the plate. His face mirrored the nervousness you felt inside.

“We should—” you both started simultaneously, then laughed.

“You first,” Chris encouraged.

“I think we should talk about last night…” you said softly, even though it was just you in the apartment. Chris nodded, walking over to the island where you were sitting.

“Did I come on too strong? I’m sorry, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore…” He started, rambling to mask his nervousness.

“No, no. God, no, that’s not what I was going to say at all!” you cut him off, taking his hand and pulling him closer. “I was going to say that it was nice, having you here with me. I was worried that you were going to take back what you said. You know, heat of the moment and all that?” You muttered, playing with his hand in your own.

“Take it back?” he questioned, his face confused as he gently lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “I would never. Why would you even think that?” he asked, his confusion unwavering.

“Well…” you cleared your throat. “You’re you, and I’m… me?” you said, looking at him with a knowing glance, hoping he’d understand. International superstar Bangchan and you, from a little western city, who had gotten swept up in all this drama.

“You’re so much more than you know,” he muttered before pressing his lips to yours. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him closer to the counter. The passionate kiss sent goosebumps across your skin, and warmth spreading through your chest. Just as quickly as it started, he pulled away. “Eat your breakfast. We have comeback preparations today, so I need to get ready to head to the studio.”

You nodded, stealing one more kiss before he walked away. You turned your attention to the omelette, which tasted beautiful despite its humble appearance. You couldn't help but smile as you demolished the breakfast Chris had made.

At that moment, everything felt perfect—an ordinary yet extraordinary morning with the person who made your heart race and your soul feel at home.

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

Stray Kids POV:

‘I’m going to make you regret this.’ 

The text replayed in Chris’s mind all morning. He knew he couldn’t tell you; it would only worry you and make you pull away from him. Your confession of feeling like you weren’t enough for him that morning had nearly shattered his heart. Of course, the message came from Seungmin. He hadn’t texted Chris all night, which was both a blessing and a curse. Either he would show up to practice today, or he wouldn’t. If he didn’t, it would be unfair to the rest of the group, especially with the comeback so close.

As he walked, Chris tried to push the thoughts aside and remembered your face as you slept, your soft snores, the way your lips felt this morning. The smile you gave when you saw him. He would go to war for that smile. As long as he was around, there wouldn’t be any more hurt coming your way—not if he could help it.

With that resolve, he entered the studio with a determined smile. All seven other members were already gathered on the floor, awaiting his arrival. The moment Chris stepped in, Seungmin’s eyes met his. The unspoken anger between them immediately heightened the tension in the room.

Chris felt his muscles tense, every fibre of his being ready for a confrontation. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now. He wouldn’t let Seungmin’s bitterness ruin their hard work in this comeback. And more importantly, he wouldn’t let it affect you.

He squared his shoulders, the leader mask slipping into place. “Alright, let’s get to work,” he said, his voice steady but edged with the simmering conflict. Seungmin’s glare intensified, but Chris didn’t back down. He couldn’t. For you, for the group, for the comeback—they had to keep moving forward, no matter what.

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“Hyung,” Felix called over to Chris. “I don’t get this move. Can you just run through it again?” He attempted the movement; his brow furrowed in concentration.

“You’re so close!” Chris encouraged, stepping forward to help Felix adjust his posture. “Just move your arm a bit more rigid, yeah, like that. The rest should flow around it.” He demonstrated, and Felix repeated the move perfectly.

“Careful, Felix. He might be showing you wrong to steal the limelight for himself,” Seungmin called out, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The rest of the room rolled their eyes at his comment. Chris struggled to keep his composure. Focusing was becoming increasingly difficult when Seungmin kept making sly remarks and deliberately messing up practice.

“Have you got something to say, Seungmin?” Chris snapped, his patience worn thin by the hours of dancing and Seungmin’s constant needling. “You know she heard you, right? Calling her a quick fuck? It destroyed her. It took me an hour at her door just to convince her to let me in to talk. She was about to leave the country and go home!” His voice rose, and the rest of the group stopped, stunned by his outburst.

“She can’t leave,” Hyunjin muttered, his eyes wide with concern.

“The media would eat her alive,” Minho concurred, shaking his head.

Chris’s fists clenched at his sides, the frustration boiling over. “This isn’t just about us, Seungmin. This is about the group, the comeback, everything we’ve worked for. And it’s about her. She’s more than some stupid fling, and if you can’t see that, maybe you’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”

Seungmin’s face contorted with anger, but he didn’t respond immediately. The tension in the room was palpable, every member holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “We need to be better than this. For ourselves, for our fans, and for her. If you can’t handle that, then step aside.”

“Be better for her?” He asked, a dark smile curving on his face. “Sure, Hyung. I can do that. I can make her the happiest woman alive, if that’s what you really want…” He pressed Chris further, looking for an ounce of a reaction.

“Touch a hair on her body and I’ll make sure it’s your last move.” Chris hissed through gritted teeth.

“Would you look at the time,” Seungmin said, looking at his imaginary watch. “Looks like I’ve plans to make.” He said, walking out of the studio, the door slamming behind him. 

“It’s not worth it, Chris.” Changbin said, emotionally holding him back, with Han on the other side echoing his statement. 

“She likes me.” Chris admitted to the rest of the group. “I slept at hers last night. I can’t lose her before I’ve even had her.”

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Y/N POV: 

Chris would be back any moment. You felt like a giggly schoolgirl waiting for her crush at the playground. He promised he’d be back after practice, and you’d watch some crappy TV together, definitely ordering food to avoid a repeat of this morning’s breakfast disaster. He had also made it clear that he wanted to take things slow with you, to wine and dine you, properly date you, and confess his feelings just like in the K-Dramas. He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, and most importantly, he didn’t want to rush into sex again. He wanted to show you how much he truly cared. It was sweet.

That didn’t stop you from putting on the sexiest underwear you could find beneath your pyjamas. A surprise if things did move in that direction, you guessed. Lost in your thoughts, the doorbell rang. He’s back already? That was quicker than you expected.

“Y/N, hi.” You opened the door and were greeted by Seungmin holding a dozen roses.

“Oh, um, Seungmin… hi,” you stammered, your voice timid as you stepped aside to let him in. “Chris isn’t here… weren’t you at practice?”

“I know he’s not here,” Seungmin said, a hint of mischief in his voice as he handed you the roses.

“I’m here for you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of confusion and apprehension washing over you. “Why are you here?” you asked, clutching the roses, their sweet scent a stark contrast to the tension in the air.

“I wanted to talk to you, without Chris around,” Seungmin said, stepping closer.

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌! 

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

𝖳𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌

@fr34k4c1dr41n @rylea08 @stellasays45 @darthmaddie25 @whatsk-poppinhomies @minnieprincess85 @purp13st4r @livixcore @hyun-hwanj @0325tiny @privhace @goldilovesharry @jisunglyricist @gloriajovicc @mimililylupinblack @laney1488

Red means I couldn’t tag you 😭

[tofics]

Broken - Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes... Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he'll never get.

Word Count: 5912 words

This chapter is very dark. Reader discretion is advised.

Warnings: Implications of SA, mention of cannibalism, panic attacks, implications of self-harm, cursing, implications of murder, blood.

Chapter 3 - Worse Than A Monster

As time passes, winter slowly makes way for spring in Jackson. The snow begins to melt and turns everything into a muddy landscape, brown and grey replacing the white canvas as more and more of the land begins to thaw. Those weeks are the worst to be outside. Where it previously snowed it now comes down in rain, heavy and relentless and adding to the already soggy ground. Your horses' hoofs often sink a few inches into the mud and you come back drenched and soiled from your patrols.

One morning, the rain is coming down so heavy that you can barely see outside of your bedroom window. Unsure whether it's safe to take the horses out in this weather, you decide to swing by Joel's first and see if you can catch him before he leaves for the stables.

It takes you longer than usual to get to his house. You keep slipping in the mud and the rain is making it hard to see where you're going. When you finally make it to his backdoor, there's two big splotches of mud on your knees from where you slipped and fell on your way over. You shed your rainboots and raincoat by the door, not wanting to drag that mess with you into the house and then step into the kitchen. Even though it's empty, it's warm and cozy and smells like Joel and Ellie. You've come to love this room, having spent so much evenings here over the past two months.

"Joel?" You call out, but there's no response. You call out again, but get the same result. The rain is drumming against the windows of the house and you figure Joel might've not heard you, so you decide to head upstairs.

His bedroom door is ajar, his bed unmade, but Joel isn't anywhere to be found. Shit, probably missed him. You turn back with a sigh, not too happy with the idea of having to return to the rain as you pass by Ellie's door. To your surprise, you hear her mumbled voice from behind the door, despite the early morning hour. You raise your hand to knock when you hear another voice mixing with Ellie's giggle. She's got someone over. You realize it's another girl and you can't help but smile, happy that Ellie has found some friends in this community. Even though you know you shouldn't, you lean your ear against the doorframe to listen.

"Have you ever seen a penis before?" You hear the other girl asks and you feel color raising to your cheeks. This is definitely not a conversation you should be listening to.

"Ew!" Ellie's voice reverberates through the door and the two girls break out into giggles again. "Gross! No!"

The other girl laughs. "Okay, okay! I just thought, you know, because you live with Joel..."

"Ewwwwwww," Ellie howls and you grin. Nothing quite like a teenager's embarrassment over genitalia. "Why would you even say that! Yuck!" You hear the thump of a pillow and more giggles. "That's like me asking if you've seen your dad's penis!"

You smile to yourself and tip-toe over to the staircase, not wanting to raise attention to yourself. Let the teenagers be teenagers, you think, but then freeze when you hear Ellie's tone as she speaks again.

"I almost did, though. I mean not Joel's, no, gross. But..." There's a pause. You don't know why, but before you realize it, your feet have carried you back to Ellie's door. Something about the way she said it has pricked something in your gut.

"But what?"

You hear the muffled sounds of shifting blankets. When Ellie speaks again, her voice is so low that you're straining to hear her words.

"Uhh... when Joel and I were still traveling around, we came across some people." She pauses again and you feel your pulse picking up. Something tells you that whatever she's about to say, it won't be good.

"They were running low on food, I guess, so they'd started eating their own people."

Your stomach turns and you hear the other girl gasp. "Did they eat their penises too?"

"No! I don't know. Maybe. That's not the point." You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing. The fact that Ellie ever came across such monsters... You can feel your morning coffee threatening to come back up and press a hand to your mouth.

"They followed this one guy who was a preacher or something. I don't know. One of their people had hurt Joel and I was trading them for medicine with a deer I'd shot, but things went wrong when they found out that it was Joel who the medicine was for, because he'd killed the guy who'd stabbed him. I mean, it was self-defense, but obviously they didn't care very much about that.

Anyway, my trade goes to shit and they take me into their little jail or whatever, and when I refuse to trust them and join their little hunger club, this preacher guy starts threatening me about how I'll be their lunch next."

There's dead silence behind Ellie's door. You keep your hand pressed to your mouth, afraid that if you take it down, a sound or bile will come out; maybe both.

"I managed to fight them, but that son of a bitch of a preacher just wouldn't let go. Next thing I know, the entire place is on fire, and even though there were flames, like, right next to us, that fucker climbed on top of me, and he..."

Your legs carry you down the stairs and out through the backdoor in a blitz before you can catch the end of the sentence. You throw yourself over the railing of the back porch and spew out this morning's coffee and whatever little remains were still in your stomach from last night's dinner. The rain is still coming down heavy and think, washing away the remnants of your stomach as quickly as they came out and soaking your head and sweatshirt, but you don't care. You don't even really notice.

There's the sound of white noise in your ears, paired with a high pitched ringing. You cling to the railing as your heart runs in your chest. Flashes of images you've tried to bury in the back of your head dance in front of you. You can still see them when you squeeze your eyes shut, a playback from hell that you seem unable to stop.

You stumble as you scramble for your rainboots and coat. Your fingers refuse to work, fiddling with the zipper of your raincoat before giving up. Whether it's rain or tears running down your cheeks, you don't know. More than once, you stumble on the slick roads and fall to the ground. There's a sharp pain in the palm of your hand the first time you fall down, then in your knee when you slip for the second time. None of it matters. The pain barely registers with your brain as you tumble back to your house, the high pitched ringing and white noise still blocking out your ears. Somewhere between Joel's house and yours, your hood slips down and your hair is drenched within seconds, but you make no attempt to pull the hood back over your head. You just have to get home. Get away.

Joel finds you in your bedroom. He halts in the doorframe when he sees that you're not fully dressed. For the briefest of seconds, his eyes flit across your bum, partially covered by the panties you're wearing. Then you're already turned around, scurrying from the closet back to the open bag on your bed and he sees the wound on your knee, muddy and leaking blood down your leg in a single, long stripe.

He quickly takes in the rest of the scene in front of him. There's a pile of wet and muddy jeans by the bed, next to a drenched hoodie. Clothes and various objects are strewn across the room, as if having been picked up and then quickly disregarded again. You're in the midst of the chaos, running back and forth between the piles on the ground, your drawer and your closet, gathering things and then tossing them again.

He clears his throat to alert you of his presence, but you don't stop, don't even glance his way. Instead, you grab a pair of jeans from the top of your closet and shove them into your bag. Joel says your name then, but you just dash over to your dresser. To Joel's alarm, you hurry back to the bed with a couple of cases of ammo.

With two quick strides, he crosses through the room and takes you by the arms before saying your name again. Finally, you show a sign of recognition at the mention of your name. "Oh, hey Joel," you mumble and shimmy out of his grip to return to your closet.

"What's going on?" He tries to keep his voice steady, but what he's seeing has him worried. In the few months that he's known you, he's never seen you like this. You have your moments where you draw back into yourself, but this? This borders on mental breakdown, if it hasn't already crossed the line.

You rush back to the bed and fish out a pair of boots from underneath it. "Just packing some things," you say as you walk into the en-suite. You return with a toothbrush and toothpaste in hand which you promptly stuff into the slowly filling bag on the bed.

"I can see that," Joel replies warily. Adding to his confusion, you give him a quick smile as you shimmy past him to retrieve a jacket that's dangling from the curtain rod.

"Where're you goin'?"

"Just got some business I gotta take care of," comes your answer from the room next door. Then you scurry back into the room and drop two rolls of toilet paper into your bag before Joel catches your wrist, stopping you before you can flit off again.

"Hey," he says and his tone is warm, his eyes kind and full of concern. "What happened? What's going on?"

You push his hand off your wrist and turn away from him. The look in his eyes is threatening to get through to you, and you can't have that. You need to concentrate on the task at hand, and he's distracting you.

"You can go, Joel," you dismiss him, but he doesn't budge.

"I ain't goin' nowhere until you tell me what's goin' on."

It's the annoyance over his refusal to leave that pulls you out of your state a little. You turn back to him with an angry look on your face. "I told you. I have some business I have to take care of." You return your attention to the bottom drawer in front of you. Socks, socks, you think. How many socks will I need? You decide that there's no such thing as too many socks and swiftly take the entire drawer out to dump all of its contents into your bag on the bed.

"Alright, enough." Joel puts his arms around the drawer you're holding in an attempt to take it out of your hands, but you refuse. A short war of tug-and-pull promptly ensues. "Let - go!" you press out between clenched teeth. Joel doesn't reply and instead manages to wrestle the large wooden compartment out of your hands. He quickly discards it on the bed before he grabs both your wrists again and pulls you closer to him.

"Do you know what you look like right now?" His voice is hushed and coated with anger. You couldn't care less as you tug on your arms, struggling to get free. "You're running around like a goddamn maniac. You're bleeding, for god's sake!" Joel shakes the wrist of your left arm, forcing your palm to turn upwards so you can see the cut at the bottom of it.

"I slipped," you mumble as you stare at the laceration. Your brows furrow as if you're only now realizing that you're wounded. "I slipped in the rain." The longer you stare at your wound, the more present it becomes. A sharp sting crawls up your left arm and you flinch back at the sensation. Through the noise in your ears, you hear Joel saying your name again. You blink up at him and are met with a stare of concern and anger. You recoil at the sight of it. Why does he care?

He scoffs as you relay the question to him. "How could I not? You don't show up for your shift and then I find you like this!" He lets go of your wrists then to widen his arms, gesturing around the room. You look around briefly, registering the chaos and piles of stuff everywhere for the first time. Did I do that?, you wonder, but quickly shrug it off. Doesn't matter. I gotta go.

You turn back towards your en-suite, but before you can take so much as two steps, your feet suddenly lift from the ground. You screech in surprise and then begin to flail around when you realize that Joel has picked you up and is carrying you out of your room.

Despite your heavy protest and flailing limbs, Joel carries you down to your living room where he unceremoniously drops you on your couch. Once you touch down, you immediately scramble to get back up, but Joel is quicker than you and pushes you down into the cushions by your shoulders. "Let - me - go!" you strain, but he doesn't let up.

Instead, he kneels so you're eye-to-eye with him. "Look at me. Look at me!" he commands, and you unwillingly obey. You stare into his eyes, yours full of fury and hatred for the man who is keeping you from what you need to do.

"What!" It comes out as a snarl, your tone matching the anger in your eyes.

"If you have somewhere to go, that's fine, but I'm not letting you up from this couch until you tell me where you need to go and why."

His face shows an unbreaking determination that just adds to your fury. You glare at him as the silence stretches on between you, unwilling to explain yourself to him. You wiggle a few times to get his arms off your shoulders, but he doesn't budge one bit, just keeps his eyes on yours.

The longer he holds you down, the more your anger slowly dissipates. Your eyes begin to glisten and he feels a hint of pain in his chest. What the hell happened to you?, he wonders and is afraid to learn the answer. When he saw you at dinner yesterday evening, you seemed fine, your usual, nothing out of place. What happened in those few hours between dinner and now?

Your head slumps down as the first sob escapes you, quickly followed by more. Tears drip down onto your bare legs and you begin to shiver as the adrenaline leaves your body; the aftermath a mess of cold, shaking limbs. Joel reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it around you, trying to cover as much of your shaking body as the blanket will allow. He tries tugging it over your thighs when he sees the faint white lines running horizontally across your skin. There's so many of them.

When he realizes he's staring, he quickly tugs on the fabric again until your thighs are covered too. You don't seem to have noticed or care; sobs still breaking out of you like before. He rubs your back gently over the scratchy material of the blanket, a soothing gesture for the lack of soothing words he can't find.

Eventually, your tears let up a little. You pull your legs close to your chest, tugging your feet under the blanket and run an arm over your nose. It comes away full of snot, which you rub off against the blanket.

"You wanna tell me now what's going on?"

You don't meet his eyes. Shame is pooling in your stomach, hot and full of bile at the state he's seen you in. It takes you a moment to find your voice.

"There's... something I gotta go take care of." Your voice is barely more than a whisper, croaky and thick from the snot that's running down the back of your throat.

"People," you add and briefly meet his gaze, your eyes adding the meaning that your words left out.

Joel thinks about the lines on your thighs and digests your words. "These people. They hurt you?"

You huff at his question and another round of tears springs from your eyes. A single nod confirms his question.

Joel grunts. "They hurt someone you love?"

You feel the taste of bile in the back of your throat at his words. A shudder runs through your spine and you pull the blanket closer around you in search of comfort. Suddenly, you wish you were still in your frenzy, full of adrenaline and empty of all these feelings that are churning you up and spitting you out.

It takes a while before you can speak again without worrying that you might throw up. "Umh. I'll talk to Tommy, see if he can find a replacement for me for morning patrol."

There's a sigh from Joel. He's shaking his head when you look at him. "You don't gotta worry about that. I'll talk to him. He'll find someone to cover for both of us."

"Both of us?!" You look at him in bewilderment.

"You think I'm letting you out there on your own?"

Not what he should have said. Whatever bit of vulnerability you allowed him to see just a moment ago quickly gets shoved away behind a curtain of white-hot anger. "Oh, yeah? Because I can't handle myself?" You throw the blanket off your shoulders and stalk over to the kitchen. "I've lived 37 years without you, Joel, I think I'll do just fine!"

Joel rubs his face and groans as you march off. The fuck did I go wrong this morning?, he thinks but then gets up to follow you. His own words had surprised him a little, no doubt. You had a point, you'd barely known each other for more than three months, and here he was, offering himself up for whatever revenge-mission you had suddenly decided to go on. What about Ellie?, a voice asks in his head, and he immediately feels a twinge of guilt.

He finds you in your bathroom, patching up your wounds, or at least trying to. You've already tended to the cut on your knee and are now trying to wrap a bandage around the palm of your hand, but your free hand is shaking too much. Joel takes the bandage from you and carefully wraps it around the cut and wrist. Once you're all bandaged up, you shove past him into your bedroom and quickly pull on fresh clothes, acutely aware of the fact that you're running around in underwear and a t-shirt.

"I didn't mean that you couldn't handle yourself. It's just safer not to go alone."

He watches you as you don't reply and just stuff things into your bag.

"I know we don't get a lot of raiders or infected around here, but they're out there. I know you know that, you're not stupid." This earns him a glare, but you continue packing wordlessly.

"You don't have to take me. Hell, I probably shouldn't even go. I'm old and rusty, and I got Ellie to look after."

You look at the contents of your bag, then flip it upside down, shaking all of it out onto the bed. Joel thinks he's won for a second, but then you start re-packing everything, just with more precision.

"Just take someone with you, okay? 'M sure someone will come with you. I know some of the youngsters are itchin' to get out there."

You huff in frustration. "I can't just taking anyone with me, much less some young idiot who's never had to look after his own butt and doesn't know how to shoot a damn gun. And what makes you think that someone will just want to come with?! I'm not going on a supply run, Joel, I'm going to end what I should have ended years ago. Some-one, if you haven't caught on by now."

"Yeah no, I got that. Just think it's a dumb idea to go at it alone." He's standing in your doorframe, arms crossed, blocking your exit.

"Please." You roll your eyes as you push your socks into a separate, smaller bag. "I'll be fine. Let it go, Joel."

"'Kay, what if you come across a bunch of infected?"

"Then I'll deal with them." You stuff the smaller bag in between a pair of shoes and two rolls of toilet paper. "Besides, there's worse than infected out there," you mumble under your breath, but Joel hears you clear as day.

"'N what's that?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. When will he let this go!

"People!", you exclaim as you turn to face him. "People, Joel, people!"

"My point exactly!" He throws his hands up in exasperation, but you're quick to interrupt him.

"No, Joel, not fuckin' raiders! I'm talking about FEDRA, you fuckin' idiot!" Your voice has risen to a shout. "You know what's worse than a frickin' raider? Someone with power. Someone who will abuse their power in any way they can. You know what that does to people? You know what they think they can take when they're in charge? Everything, Joel. Everything."

You throw the last few things into the bag and then zip it shut. When you try to shove past Joel in the doorframe, he snags it off your shoulder and takes you by the arm.

"Come with me." It's as much an order as it is a request. Even so, the hold on your arm is strong as he drags you down the stairs and outside into the rain.

The downpour has barely let up since you first stepped a foot outside this morning and it's coming down in buckets. Within a matter of seconds, your second outfit of the day is drenched.

"Where the fuck are we going," you yell over the rain, but Joel doesn't respond, just continues dragging you through the streets until you arrive in his backyard. You're shivering, cold from the wet and the wind, as he points to a pile of wood nearby. You squint at him through the rain, confused.

"Take it out on that," he calls out as he hands you an axe, then places a piece of wood on the chopping block. You just blink at him. Has he lost his mind?

"You need me to chop your firewood?" You wipe an arm across your face, but raindrops quickly gather on your eyelashes again.

"Whatever you're feeling right now, take it out on that, then we can talk again." The rain is running into his eyes and into the back of his neck, but he doesn't waiver, just motions for the piece of wood on the block again.

Fuck it, you think and take your first swing. You split the piece of wood neatly in half. Joel wipes the chunks off of the block and puts a fresh piece on it, then motions for you to go again.

You repeat this process a few times until your chopping becomes faster and faster. You hear Ellie's words from this morning ringing in your head, over and over. "That fucker climbed on top of me, and he..." It plays on a constant loop, accompanied by flashes of pictures of someone that isn't Ellie, trapped under a man's body as she screams and cries for help-

It takes a while to realize that you're screaming yourself. Snot and tears fly from your face as you blindy hack away at the wooden block in front of you, little pieces of wood shooting into the air.

Joel watches from a safe distance as you take your feelings out on the firewood. When you start to scream, Ellie's window on the first floor flies open and two worried faces appear in the frame. "Fuck," Joel mutters under his breath and motions for the two girls to move back and close the window again. "It's okay," he calls out over your distressed wails and the rain. "Ellie, it's okay," he repeats when she doesn't retreat at first. He sees how her eyes wander back and forth between you and him, a mixture of concern and fear on her face. He nods at her once more and finally, she leans back inside and closes the window. Gonna have to deal with that later, he thinks but just then, Tommy comes jogging around the corner of the house, rifle raised.

"Whoa, whoa, Tommy, 's okay, we're good here!" Even though one should never run into the line of a gun, Joel quickly jogs over to Tommy, shielding you with his body in the process. His younger brother squints around him at you, chopping away on the block furiously while you still shout out strangled sounds of pain.

"The fuck's goin' on, Joel?" Tommy's panting and his eyes are wide and alert. "'Dunno quite yet, she's goin' through somethin'," Joel replies quietly so you won't hear. His brother's eyes dart back over to you through the rain. "Uh-huh?"

"Tommy." Joel puts a hand on the barrel and gently pushes it downwards. "She ain't bit. She's just..." He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "'Dunno, man, somethin' set her off and triggered her."

Slowly, Tommy lets his rifle sink down. The two men watch you go at it for a moment. "You sure she ain't bit?" His brothers eyes wander over their surroundings and Joel knows he's looking for infected. "I'm tellin' 'ya, somethin' set her off, jus' don't know what yet. Wouldn't she be tryin' to eat our faces instead of playin' Jack Torrance over there?"

Finally, Tommy swings his rifle back over his shoulder. "Alright," he says in a tone that tells Joel it's anything but alright, and he can't blame his brother. "I got it under control," he assures Tommy. He receives a pat on the back in return and with one last look at you, Tommy jogs back around the house, presumably to tell Maria that no, they're not being overrun with infected.

After a little while, your screaming subsides. Soon after, your motions become slower and slower until you eventually drop the axe to the ground. It lands in a puddle with a thud and a little splash. Realizing that all the fight has gone out of you, Joel makes his way over to you. He reaches you just in time as your knees give out.

"Alright," he grunts as he catches you. He chucks the axe over to a protected dry spot and then swoops you up into his arms.

Ellie opens the backdoor for him and quickly throws a blanket over the couch where Joel sets you down. There's a glazed look in your eyes, like you're far away. Ellie's face is one of pure worry and it tugs at Joel's heart, the way her little heart can feel so deeply for others.

"What happened," Ellie whispers as she studies your face with big eyes. Then she notices the bandage on your palm. "Is she...?", she gasps, but Joel just flicks his tongue. "You think I'd bring her into our house if she was?"

Ellie helps him undress you. The wet clothes stick to your skin like glue, your jeans in particular. You let the two move you around whichever way they turn you, but you make no move to help. It's hard to tell whether you're registering anything that's going on.

Joel sends Ellie up to his room to fetch a pair of his sweatpants and one of his sweaters. When she comes back, she also has a pair of fuzzy socks with her that come out of her own collection. He raises an eyebrow when she hands them to him, but she just shrugs. "Thought they might help."

They speak in hushed whispers as they work around you, replacing your bandages as they go. Once you're dressed in dry clothes, Ellie gets her brush and sits on the backrest of the couch. She slowly untangles your hair and gently brushes through the strands. Joel goes to change out of his own drenched set and heads to the dining hall afterwards. When he comes back, he's loaded with food.

Ellie has finished with your hair and is sitting next to you on the sofa, reading a book. Her eyes light up at the sight of the bag that Joel's carrying. "Whoaaa," she breathes out and wanders over to inspect his loot. "They let you take all this?"

Joel shrugs. "More or less. Told Andrea we can't make it to the dining hall today." He glances over at you, but you're still staring off into the distance. "She say anything at all since I left?" Ellie shakes her head. "No, but I think she liked it when I sat next to her. She sighed once," she replies in an equally hushed voice. Together, they unpack lunch and dinner.

You poke around the plate of food that Joel set down in front of you. Hours have passed since you slowly came to on their couch. There's a numbness inside of you that fills you from head to toe, overshadowing every other sensation. You're not hungry, you're not thirsty, you're not happy or sad. If anything, you're exhausted. Every single muscle in your body aches like you just finished a whole body workout.

While you shift the food around on your plate, Joel and Ellie blabber on in the background. It's the most you've ever heard him talk; even during your game nights he doesn't talk this much. You briefly wonder if this is what their every-day-interactions are like before you push the thought away. Ellie laughs and Joel joins in. Hers is high and giggly and his is deep and warm and throaty. It's a nice sound.

You're grateful that they don't try to include you in the conversation. You just sit and listen as Ellie talks about the gossip her friend Jessica told her last night during their sleepover. Apparently, her brother tried to steal one of the rare chocolate bars from the community kitchen and now has to work in plumbing as punishment. Joel, in return, tells a story about how back in the day, a plumber messed up at one of his construction sites and they had a sewage pipe blow up in the middle of the day. "Poop rained down everywhere. It was an ugly sight, I'm tellin' 'ya. Tommy got the worst of it."

Ellie laughs so hard, she almost slides off her chair, and even Joel's chair is shaking from his laughter. You briefly look up and find that Joel is looking at you, the skin around his eyes all crinkly from the smile on his face. You quickly avert your eyes but can't stop the tiny smile that wanders over your lips.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." Joel's hand is on your shoulder. The dishes are done and the sun has set. Ellie has already gone to bed, or has at least retreated to her room.

You feel a soft nudge on your shoulder and start to move.

The idea of going back to your house, alone, haunts you. Where a packed bag is waiting and the evidence of your outburst is strewn across the floor of your entire bedroom.

Your legs stop under you and Joel almost bumps into you on the way to the door. "I can't," you whisper and you feel the familiar wave of shame roar in your stomach. You feel Joel's hand on your back and feel frozen in your spot. "I-," you start again but your voice betrays you. There's a prickling sensation behind your eyes and you know that the tears are just around the corner. You sigh and it sounds like dry laugh. "I, umh."

Joel doesn't say anything, he just waits for you to say what you have to say. You take a big breath and then say the words quickly before you lose the momentum. "I'm afraid I'll do something, if I'm alone." Your whisper is so quiet, so small, as if your voice wants to hide itself away. "To myself."

There's a moment of silence where you feel like your skin is on fire. Every single hair on your body stands up as you wait for Joel to respond. The wave of shame sloshes around in your stomach and sends hot shivers through your body. You feel betrayed by yourself, by your mind, your strength, both cowering at the sight of your pain, unable to tame it. You feel humiliated by yourself, your inability to deal with your demons and how scared you are of them. You've fought so many monsters, infected by cordyceps or power, but the one opponent that you never seem to beat is yourself.

Finally, you feel his hand glide off your back and it feels like a kick in the stomach, but then his hand gently wraps around your unbandaged hand. There's a soft tug, and then he's guiding you through the kitchen, up the stairs and into his bedroom.

A cascade of emotions washes over you: relief, shame, gratitude, humiliation, guilt. There is relief that you don't have to go home and face your demons in the dark all by yourself, gratitude that Joel's taking you in and taking on the burden of making sure you're safe when you can't do it yourself, but it's all laced with shame, bitter and slimy and hard to swallow because you should be able to do this yourself.

You don't know how to feel as he gestures for you to sit on the bed, then takes off his watch and places it on one of the nightstands. He pulls off the jacket he's wearing, then slips out of his t-shirt. You avert your eyes when his torso is bare, even if not for long. He slips on another t-shirt, then kicks off his pants.

You're still sitting on the edge of his bed as he slides under the blanket behind you. "C'mon," you hear him mumble and he tugs the blanket out from under you. To your surprise, your body moves on its own accord. Your legs slide under the blanket he's holding up, then he's pulling the covers up so they reach up to your chin. You feel him shift behind you and then there's his body leaning against yours, your back pressed against his tummy. An arm moves around your waist and pulls you even closer, until you're fitted against each other tightly.

You're in Joel Miller's bed, but there's nothing sexual about it. Joel holds your shaking body against his and lets the warmth of his own body erase your cold. He holds you, even when tears of shame and sadness roll down your cheeks and into his pillows. He holds you until you fall asleep, and even then, he doesn't let go.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

A/N: I want to make it clear that asking for help is never wrong, nor anything to be ashamed of or to be humiliated by. As a person with chronic depression who struggled to deal with it on her own for years, I want you to know that you deserve all the help, even if your brain is telling you something different. No matter what you're struggling with, you are worthy of help and love, always. 🤍

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Tag list: @eternallyvenus @frogsdeservelovetoo @akisfoxdevil @southernbe @nutterbitter @sunandmuun @noisynightmarepoetry @puduvallee @picketniffler @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @orcasoul @foomoosworld @aryaharmon @lilmizmoz @ashleyfilm

[alwritey-aphrodite]

hiii could you do ‚sleeping in’ with finnick odair for your summer blurbs?

2024 Summer Blurbs

After spending so much of your life feeling like you’re running out of time, it’s a strange feeling to have nothing but time on your hands. You’ve got no obligations, nothing to run from, only you and Finnick and your comfortable house by the sea. It’s more than either of you could have ever imagined for a future, and you both live your lives to the fullest, albeit in rather different ways.

Finnick rises early, awake and at the beach before the sun has even started to rise. Even though he’s never felt safer, he still can’t manage to sit still, to stay in one place for longer than he absolutely has to. While you’d love to spend your entire day just lounging in bed, Finnick is up and moving the second he wakes up. He wishes more than anything that he could lay there longer with you, but even just a few minutes of laying awake while you sleep next to him sends his heart pounding and his mind racing.

Most mornings, you’re still asleep when he returns all covered in salt water, the gentle light filtering in through the curtains making you look more than angelic. He’s quiet, gathering his clothes so he can rinse off and start the day, never wanting to disturb your rest because you’ve gotten so little of it in the grand scheme of things and he’d let you sleep the entire day if you wanted to. By the time he’s almost through with making breakfast and the sun is shining through your large windows, you trudge out of the bedroom, squinting against the light and smoothing your hair away from your face. He misses you sometimes in those early mornings, but the way your face splits into a smile when he places your breakfast in front of you and wraps you in his arms to finally greet you makes it all worth it.

That’s how most mornings go, but today, Finnick was jolted from his sleep by rain pelting the side of your house, hard enough to sound like a thousand tiny rocks were beating against the windows. He can’t possibly swim in this weather, especially not when you’re asleep and you won’t know where he is, and you have a tight grip on his arm and he’s not sure he’d even be able to slip out of bed unnoticed. He knows that the longer he lays here, the louder the voices in the back of his mind will become, but he doesn’t want to wake you by ripping his arm from your grasp.

There’s something about your hold on his arm, the pressure and physical reassurance that you’re right there next to him, and after a few minutes of watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep peacefully, Finnick finds his eyes slipping shut again.

When he wakes for the second time, you’re awake and stretching your hands above your head, relaxing again once you hear the click of your back and shoulders releasing. There’s sunlight streaming through the windows, and Finnick wonders briefly if he’d dreamed about the storm, some effort of his mind to make him sleep longer. He doesn’t even care if the storm was just his dreams carrying over into that space between awake and asleep, because the second you look over at him with your sleepy smile, everything else just melts away.

[ericshoney]

Mini Matt in a bad mood ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Mini Matt is having a bad morning, but the guys are there to help.

Warnings: usual swearing, teasing, name calling (in a joking way), platonic pet names, mentions of not sleeping, crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today you woke up in a terrible mood. Like usually if you didn't sleep well, you would just be slightly grumpy. But today you woke up pissed. You were going to sleep in Chris' room with him as your bed hasn't been comforting the last few weeks, but he was nothing but annoying to you throughout the day.

"Hey Mini Matt look at this!"

"Oh Mini Mattitude is showing!"

"Yo Y/N you act like such a brat sometimes."

Honestly you loved the nickname, you really did and you knew Chris loved to joke around and tease you, but he seemed to take it too far, plus he kept stealing your food and not letting you speak a word.

So you decided to sleep in your own room for once, resulting in a terrible nights sleep and back pain. You had been meaning to look for a new mattress but had been so busy you kept forgetting.

You trudged out your room and to the bathroom you share with Matt, taking a quick shower with no troubles, the hot water relaxing your muscles slightly. You brushed your teeth and got dressed before going back to your room to find your phone.

"Where the fuck is it." You mumbled, after a couple minutes of searching.

"Yo kid hurry the fuck up we're gonna film a car video!" Chris shouted as he barged into your room.

"I'm looking for my phone." You muttered, throwing your pillows around.

"It's on the floor, are you dumb." He said with a laugh.

You looked down and saw your phone right by the side of your bed on the floor. You sighed as you picked it up and turned to Chris.

"Woah, kid, what's with the bags under your eyes." He mentioned.

"Don't worry." You grumbled, pushing past him, still being petty about the day before.

You quietly went down to the car, not speaking to either Nick or Matt, who gave Chris a confused look upon seeing him.

"Don't ask me." He said, making the eldest two share a look.

The boys got in the car quietly, Matt driving to the car park you had planned on stopping at. Nick had already put some snacks and drinks in the car ready for the video.

As Matt drove, Nick tried to show you some TikTok's on his phone, but you just ignored him, feeling upset, tired and angry. You knew it wasn't his fault, but couldn't quite say out loud what was wrong. Nick sighed and looked at Matt through the mirror, knowing something was wrong.

"Hey, bub, what's wrong?" Matt called, looking at you.

"Nothing." You muttered, looking out the window.

"Someone's got their panties in a twist." Chris replied.

"Will you shut the fuck up!" You shouted, making the brothers share a look of shock.

The rest of the car ride was silent apart from the music. You soon arrived at the car park, the boys sharing a look.

"You know...if your not up for filming we can do it another day or something." Matt suggested softly.

"No we're here now, let's begin." You responded, sitting up in your seat.

"We really don't have too, if there's someth-" Nick tried to say but you cut him off.

"I fucking said it's fine! Now fucking start recording!" You shouted.

"Bub..." Chris started, but again you interrupted him.

"No! If you hadn't been such an ass yesterday I would be fine! I love being Mini Matt but you took it too far yesterday and with the name calling too! If you really think I'm such a brat maybe you shouldn't be friends with me!" You screamed at him, a few tears now leaving your eyes.

"Hey woah, sweetheart calm down." Nick said softly, rubbing your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You apologised, covering your face as you cried into your hands.

"This is more than just a morning grump....your really upset." Chris said, feeling the guilt set in.

"What happened?" Matt questioned.

Chris sighed and went on how he did everything yesterday, not realising in the time how silly he was being, only until now where you broke, making him feel bad.

"I'm sorry, kid. It's my fault." Chris aplogised.

"No...I'm being over dramatic." You muttered, wiping your tears.

"No, stop right there." Nick said sternly.

"You can't help if something annoys you. We all get annoyed with each other and it's okay, it's normal. You also slept in your own bed, correct?" He continued.

"Correct." You said with a nod.

"And we all know you, much like Chris, struggle to sleep in your own bed, which is okay. And I also know that you mentioned your bed isn't comfy, correct?" He added.

"Correct." You said again.

"Why didn't you come to my room?" matt questioned.

"Felt upset and angry. I wanted to say what was wrong and sort it out before bed, but was feeling tired and stuff." You admitted.

"I'm really, really sorry Y/n." Chris said.

"It's okay, I forgive you." You said, giving him a small smile.

"Hug it out." Nick said.

"What?" You called.

"You heard him, hug it out." Matt said with a nod.

You looked at Chris who laughed slightly, the both of you got out of the car as Chris pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground. You smiled and let out a small laugh as you hugged him back.

"I'm really sorry again, bub." Chris said, looking down at you.

"I'm sorry I didn't say what was wrong." You replied.

You both smiled and shared another hug, making both Nick and Matt smile. You then got back into the car.

"Next time, talk to us, okay petal?" Matt said.

"I'll try." You responded with a nod.

The four of you then started to film a video, laughing and joking, having a fun time and you started to feel much better.

[leascorner]

b.r. | Second thoughts

Summary:  Though you had prepared for this day, it still didn’t ease the terror slowly building in your stomach as you were slowly realizing that he was really in front of you. You didn’t know if he was here for you or only to get to Frank. In any case, there wasn’t any happy ending to expect. This was just going to end bad.

Pairing:  Billy Russo x ex!reader

Warnings: Mention of death, injuries, blood, gun, murder, toxic relationship, stalking, (major) angst, reader has no specific sex mentioned, I didn't really watched the Punisher so apologies for any inconsistency (hopefully I learned enough from all the fanfics lol).

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You had only come home after an endless work dinner.

Just like you had done a million times, you had placed your keys in your trinket bowl, had put away your shoes and bag before stepping into the rest of your apartment, so ready to go to bed.

This time though, you had not done three steps that your heart had made a sudden jump in your chest for no reason. Chills had run down your spine; all your body hair had straightened up, so straight it was actually painful.

An alarm rang into your head. Something was wrong.

Very, very, wrong.

It was obvious now, from the perfume lingering in the air - his perfume - that he was the reason all your senses were now in alert. Perhaps had he been there before you even got home. Or worse, perhaps was he still here, waiting for you.

Your phone was still in your bag, in your halfway, a few meters back. If he was still here - watching you, it would have been too suspicious for you to run back to it to call for help. So, you opted for a safer option in your mind: ignoring your gut feeling. You tried not to look alarmed while you went through your living room, purposely keeping the lights off. Thankfully, the full moon shining bright out of the living room windows was enough to make your way to your bedroom.

Without thinking, you opened one of your wardrobes and reached for the first clean pyjama on top of the pile. You also reached out for your safe, hidden behind a pile a yoga pants. As quickly and as silently as possible, you opened it and grabbed the gun you were safely keeping in it. It was always loaded as you knew if ever were you in the need to use it, you would never have the time to load it. Little did you know at that time that you would be right.

You hid your weapon under your pyjama before turning around to switch the light on. Holding your breath, you had a quick look around your bedroom: everything was just as you had left it that morning. No sign of him whatsoever.

You weren’t even sure if you were still holding your breath when you entered your living room, but your fingers were definitely shaking as you reached to the light switch. Heart beating furiously in your chest, you braced yourself for what was to come. Your instinct knew he would be right there, sat nonchalantly in your reading fancy armchair. He would have this bright flashing smile on his lips as if he owned the place. His eyes mocking all of your efforts to be safe from him.

And you were right. He was. Exactly like you knew he would. It was your worst nightmare coming alive, except this time there was no waking up.

You should have seen it coming though. A couple of days ago, Frank had called you to let you know Billy had escaped and for you to ‘stay safe’ - as if there were anything you could do about that. Of course, both of you knew there was only one person he could go to: you. Yet, him having the nerves to actually show up in your apartment, years after you had broken up, months after you had helped to lock him up, was still surprising to you.

What you had done to him was nothing compared to all he had made you suffer. He had lied to you, hurt you in so many ways, put your heart back together only to break it all over again. You had never figured out if he was either not loving you enough - or loving you so much he preferred to play with your feeling instead of assuming he too could actually have feelings.

Despite all of this, you had hoped for so long that he would change. That your love would be enough. That you would be the one, the only one, to make things right with him. You had been blinded for so long that your world had been wrecked when you had learned about the last atrocity he had done. It had taken for him to commit the horrible murder of his friend’s family, to make you realize there were nothing from this man to save. He wasn’t a lost puppy in need, he was a lost cause.

After your break-up, Billy had made your life a nightmare. Calling you at any time during the day or night, with different burner phones so he could still reach you even if you blocked all of his different numbers. Somehow, he kept showing up everywhere you went. Sending you notes, flowers, and gifts to your work. Waiting for you every day right outside your flat.

You had moved or had changed your number so many times you couldn’t remember them all. Multiple times you had found yourself yelling at him, imploring him in tears in the middle of the street to leave you alone. And every time he had smiled at you, just like he was doing right now.

You knew Billy too well to know how cruel and ever more unpredictable he was, which made him ever more so dangerous. He didn’t scare you, no… He literally terrified you. And not knowing what he wanted from you tonight was even worse…

Stopped in your tracks, immobile like a deer in the headlights of a car, you watched as he stood up and took a step your way. You took one backwards, trying to keep a good distance between the two of you. He took another one again and after you also took one back and hit the wall, you let your pyjama fall on the ground to display your weapon as a warning to try and intimidate him if you could.

“I’ve taught you so well,” he smiled immediately and hold a hand to his chest to show how touched he was by your gesture.

You snorted in answer.

Billy had not taught you one thing; he had rather inflicted them on you. This was his way of doing and everything you had shared had been through blood and tears. He had made you loved him so much that you had had no other choice that to help Frank to stop him when everything became out of control. He had had put you through so much that you had had to buy a gun so you could protect yourself from him.

Though you had prepared for this day, it still didn’t ease the terror slowly building in your stomach as you were slowly realizing that he was really in front of you. You didn’t know if he was here for you or only to get to Frank. In any case, there wasn’t any happy ending to expect. This was just going to end bad.

You watched as Billy took another step your way. He was so close that with your arm out straight in front of you, the barrel of your gun was nearly touching his chest. All you could look at now was how slowly his chest was raising and falling. If he only took one more step, if you pressed the trigger, you would lodge a bullet through him.

You could severely hurt him, or even worse: kill him.

“What is that, darlin’?”

The gun was starting to feel so heavy in your hand that your whole arm was shaking. You weren’t used in staying your arm out straight for so long and you needed to grab the gun with your other hand. If you had to be totally transparent, you had only practice to shoot once and seeing someone in front of you – knowing that you could lethally hurt them – was totally disconcerting. It was nothing like the inanimate white sheet of paper that you knew you couldn’t hurt.

You realized now that you weren’t like him. No matter how much you hated him and how much it made you want him to suffer, you couldn’t hurt him. You didn’t want him dead; you only wanted him very far away from you, so far away that you could forget that he ever existed. You were probably too good that you would let him hurt you, instead of defending yourself.

“Can’t have second thoughts now, can we?”

Of course, he knew you. He could see the reluctance in your eyes and was playing with it. You knew how it was, you had been here before. You knew he would just get under your skin and play with your head, push you to your limits.

You couldn’t let him do that. You had your principles; you knew who you were, and you knew you were a better person than him.

“Stop talking!”

“Or what?”

Billy still had that stupid cocky smile on his lips and his left eyebrow lifted, silently inquiring what you would dare to do to him. You knew he was enjoying every minute of it. He had proved himself countless times to be the most sadistic person you ever encountered in your life, yet it still surprised you.

You had thought long and through about it when you were still thinking you could fix him. How such a lovely man to all appearances could have ended up like this. The war had definitely been a factor. Joining the mob was another. Yet, none of his friends or partners had turned out this vicious.

You had finally come to realize that this vice of him had always been there and probably would have shown up eventually, war and crime had only made it emerge more quickly.

“Go on,” he instructed.

When you shook your head in response, Billy impatiently grabbed your own hands with his own, pressing the gun into his belly. Eyes wide, you tried to pull away, but his grip was stronger, and he only pressed the barrel of the gun even further against him.

As you couldn't change the direction of the gun, you tried to let it go, but he crushed your fingers against the trigger, and you nearly fired it against your will.

“Just do it.”

His words seemed to repeat endlessly all in your head. His tone was mocking you, as if you were too fragile, not brave enough to just do it. He was pushing all of your buttons in a way he knew you would have no other choice that to give in.

You stayed still in front of him, trying to keep a closed face as much as possible - you didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he was succeeding in torturing you - but you knew your eyes were betraying you.

You battled hard to not give him what he wanted, as his mocking eyes burned holes into your skull. You prayed whatever gods you believed in to keep you strong.

Yet, one by one, you could feel all of your barriers falling.

“I freaking hate you,” you cried out.

He laughed heartily, wrinkles showing up around his eyes, and his laughter froze on his face as you pressed the trigger. In slow motion, you felt the detonation, then the recoil in your arms. The grip of his hand on yours was reduced ever so slightly. You watched as he was taken aback by the detonation and how his eyes opened wider while the bullet went through his flesh.

His knees gave way under his body, and you continued to stand with your arms outstretched, watching him collapse to the ground. One of his hands reached for you, while the other reached for his belly. The blood that stuck to it finally made you realized what had happened.

The time seemed to regain its natural speed. You dropped the gun safely and knelt to his side.

“Press it against the wound,” you instructed while handing him your pyjamas that you had dropped a couple of minutes ago.

His hands trembled in yours as you directed both of them to rest against his chest. You pushed hard on it, trying to collapse the hole that you had made yourself, trying to keep as much blood inside him as possible.

All his blood had left his face and you had never seen him so livid. His eyes were furiously looking for yours, which you understood as seeking the reassurance he wasn’t going to die alone.

“I’ve got you,” you promised. Despite everything he had done to you, you weren’t like him. You were indeed a good person, and you would fix what you had broken. “It’s going to be alright.”

[sigmasemen]

YOUR BEAUTY IS SIMPLE.

chigiri hyoma x reader tags: fluff, gossiping, girl talk, cutesy relationships, flustered reader, established relationship, short.

taglist: n/a currently.

characters: chigiri hyoma, hyoma’s sister, reader, (non romantic) mentions of isagi yoichi, chris prince, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, rensuke kunigami, meguru bachira.

word count: 625

extra: FINAL REPOST FROM A TWITTER THREAD. technically i’m also gonna make a kaiser one but that isn’t posted yet!! wish this was longer but im lazy + i get to post the rest of my fics soon since i’ll have enough backlogged !!

many people assume that when you started dating chigiri, he would automatically care for your skincare and routine constantly. everyone assumed he would be making sure you’re taken care of always.

it was… partially true.

sure, he did care about taking care of you. he’d comb his fingers through your hair slowly before you two fell asleep. he would brush your hair and help you out of bed in the mornings you weren’t feeling the best.

it wasn’t as major as people made it out to be. it wasn’t constant. he did it when you two were both open.

what was becoming a constant was his big sister doing your nails every weekend. you’d come over an hour early for chigiri, then get stopped by her when she saw you walk in. 

the conversations ranged from your day, to a childhood memory, to her skin care routine, it just mattered on how you two were feeling. but on this day, the conversation had trailed off into chigiri.

since he had been away from his sister for a while because of soccer, you were there to give her all the updates.

“oh! and he made friends with this guy named yoichi isagi.”

“oh… the black haired undercut? i see why! he’s so, so sweet, isn’t he?” her shrill voice made you briefly stiffen.

“he’s very sweet! they get along well, along with reo, nagi, bachira, kunigami, the… british coach guy? hyoma has had an easier time making friends with people.”

“maybe manipulating teenagers into thinking they have to only care about themselves makes them clingy towards people with very similar experiences?”

it seemed about right… “why are you thinking about it like that?”

“i’m just happy my brother doesn’t only have some freaky guys talking about ego in his ear… that facility annoyed me,” she brushed her fingers against your collarbone, “besides, he’s always talking about you.”

you knew she saw your little twitch as her lips curved into a smile, “mhm, always. it’s like all he thinks about is you!”

you didn’t care, you don’t care, it doesn’t matter, it isn’t important, why would it matter? “what does he say?” fuck.

“oh… y’know,” she was dragging this out, “he mentioned that he wanted to take you on a date this friday. like a little surprise. he had a rose and everything on order…”

“oh! yeah… cool.” 

…

it was impossible to remain casual. “what else?”

the words of his sister continued to fuel your ego more and more. it shouldn’t have made your heart feel this warm for your cold-hearted princess of a boyfriend to be secretly saying this cute stuff about you, but it did. it made you want to burst out into tears and run into his arms.

the entire time she spoke, your leg bounced as a tick to show joy. your hands fooled around with each other as a mechanism to calm down. it wasn’t that these worked, but it was worth a shot.

“then he grabbed a bonsai plant, which he said he hated, and wanted to give you it because it reminded him of you! he carried it around the entire store and—”

the click of a lock shot both of your head straight to the door. chigiri. you swung your body to be facing the window instead of him. though you couldn’t see it, a light was pulled from his eyes briefly.

“hm. how are you two?”

you willingly ignored the conversation you had been having previously in a feeble attempt to suppress your feelings. you were just focused on calming that blush on your face. the stupid blush your boyfriend didn’t even know he caused… you hoped to give him the same sort of embarrassment one day.

[nervousladytraveler]

How about a prompt where Ross feels his baby kick for the first time?

Thank you my dear @anglophiletraveler You asked for this a million years ago, but I just came across a bit I'm working on for Duty that seemed to fulfill your wishes. Hope it satisfies!

---

“That's another thing new about you, Demelza.” His face grew serious and his lids dropped just a bit.

“Besides my altered figure?”

“Oh I love your altered figure, in case I failed to mention it,” he said and pulled her down close to him. One arm gently curled around her middle and he buried his face in her hair again. This time he wasn’t taking in her scent as he held his breath but trying to catch his own.

A blackbird’s warble, sounding a bit like a long silenced church bell, came wafting in through the open window. The bed sheets wrapped around him were soft and the woman he held in his arms was even softer. It had been quite some time since all his senses were not just at ease but gratified.

“You’re…happy. I’ve never seen you so before,” he tried to explain. “Even with everything that’s happened, that’s happening, that may still occur, you still take it on the chin and smile. But it's not just for appearances. Knowing you, as I think I do, you seem truly…content.”

“In a strange way I am and have never been more so,” she said slowly then rushed to explain. “Being apart from you kept me from feeling fully so, but at least knowing you are alive and well has helped. But what I mean is…I wake up in the morning and I know where I am and what I need to do–even if I don't always know who I'm supposed to be at any given time,” she said.

“You didn’t seem much like Uncle Charlie last night,” he teased.

“I was referring to being Missus Carne,” she laughed softly. No hard feelings on that score. “But there's some satisfaction that comes from managing to eke out one’s own daily bread and helping others when I can. I know I am loved and I know I've love to give in return. And now you are here, so…I can’t be wanting more. How could I?”

“Demelza…” Ross felt the weight, the preciousness of the moment and dared not interrupt it with any more words.

“And this little one’s gone easy on me since the end of January really,” she added. “It's been so long since you've seen me, Ross–I’m no longer sick like I was back in London. Maybe that’s what you’re noticing?”

“It is a relief but then there's much that lies ahead and still…” So much cause to worry. He didn't have to say the words. “Well, can’t I just say I like it when you’re happy? My own happiness appears to be tied to yours.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility, Ross,” she smiled. “But yes. You can say that,” she said. “Speaking of happy, feel this.” She moved his hand to her middle where the littlest Poldark cadet was doing morning callisthenics.

“Dem…what the devil?” He stammered as though the tiny food within her belly had just kicked in his head.

"No, not the devil," she laughed. "Quite the opposite, I think."

“Oh!”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” she said. “Makes it all seem a bit more real.” 

“Oh,” he repeated softly. “Oh yes.”  

Very real--and utterly terrifying.

[whitestnoise]

[willowfey]

what do u do on days u wake up feeling empty and the only things that stir smth up in ur brain and body are memories of times/places that are long gone…. like what am i supposed to do with that….. i don’t feel like a person today i just wanna wake up in my childhood bedroom and smell the way it smelled in winter but i can’t do that so i just go through my day feeling vaguely nauseously unsettled and untethered…. and that doesn’t feel fair but i don’t know what can be done about it

[lunarsapphism]

.

[curly-cottage-girl]

finished the return of the thief and have Feelings

[foldingfittedsheets]

I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.

All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.

For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.

So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.

I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.

The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.

My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.

I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!

It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.

I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”

“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.

The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.

I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.