#liv’s writing corner

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

“It was an irreplaceable love”

A little sequel/continuation to my “dyin’ ain’t so bad” fic i wrote back for tuggoffelees week, this time featuring more angst thanks to @soh-da-meatball who broke my heart with her latest tuggoffelees art <3

Obviously this takes inspiration from “saturation” (the song that soh used) but while i was writing i also couldn’t stop thinking about “something to hold onto” from the “between the lines” musical and long story short i’m crying over this

Warnings: mentions of major character death, descriptions of violence (basically what had happened to tugger), unhealthy coping mechanisms (mistoffelees isolating/punishing himself), overall a lot of grief

Mistoffelees stayed in his den for weeks after Tugger’s death.

He spoke to no one, not even his sister.

The only reason he ate was because he knew how much Tugger would hate seeing him waste away, but even then, he only ate the bare minimum to keep himself alive.

Munkustrap, Victoria, and Old Deuteronomy were the only cats who came into Mistoffelees’ den, after every other cat had found themselves unable to enter due to the magic surrounding it.

Munkustrap would sit in the silence with Mistoffelees, a strong, calm presence. He was the only cat who truly understood Mistoffelees’ grief, seeing as he had been there as well when Tugger died.

Victoria held her brother during her visits, wrapping her arms around him and protecting him from the world.

Old Deuteronomy was the only cat Mistoffelees would cry in front of, clinging to the old tom as violent sobs ripped through his body. Deuteronomy cried with him, cradling the younger cat gently, whispering gentle reassurances that Tugger’s death wasn’t his fault, that he had done everything he could.

Mistoffelees wasn’t so sure about that.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tugger’s bloody, broken body in front of him, fur mangled and matted.

He saw Old Deuteronomy collapsing to the ground when he saw Tugger’s body.

He saw Munkustrap falling into Demeter’s arms, the golden queen clinging to her mate with tears streaming down her face.

Every time he sat in the silence, he heard Bombalurina’s screams when she saw Mistoffelees and Munkustrap enter the Junkyard with Tugger’s body on their backs.

He heard Plato’s choked sobs at the sight of his brother in all but blood, lifeless and limp.

He heard Jemima’s terrified questions about what was wrong with her beloved uncle.

Despite Deuteronomy’s reassurances, and Tugger’s insistent final words, Mistoffelees blamed himself. He should have been faster, his magic should have healed Tugger.

His isolation was his punishment, his misery his penance for his mistakes.

So he remained in his den, curled on his bed, Tugger’s favorite blanket clutched in his arms as he breathed in the scent of his mate. Occasionally he would move around, a quick cleaning, a tidy-up of the bed, but that was only if one of the three cats he still saw came to visit.

He didn’t deserve for the den to be pristine.

Mistoffelees did manage to leave his den one night.

Like the other magical cats, Mistoffelees’ powers took strength from the moon, and the full moon shining above him in the sky made it feel as though his magic was about to burst out of him.

He sat in the center of the hidden clearing, the spot where he and Tugger had shared a private dance after their mating, and stared down at his paws. He hadn’t used his magic since the day Tugger died, and when he wiggled his fingers briefly, the rainbow sparkles he had once loved so dearly shot out, the pent-up emotions and magic exploding out of Mistoffelees in a wave of grief and pain.

He spread his arms out, magic flaring around him. The only reason the magic did not spread to the rest of the Junkyard was thanks to the barrier Mistoffelees had constructed around the clearing so long ago, when it had served as a secret place for him to practice.

Mistoffelees waved his arms and spun around, kicking out and lashing his tail until he stopped, hunched over with paws on his knees, heaving great, deep breaths, exhaustion settling into his bones.

“Magical.”

The awed whisper had the tom freezing. The voice was one Mistoffelees would recognize even in a sea of screams and cheers. It was the voice that had spent countless hours reassuring him, whispering sweet nothings as they curled together, giggling over thoughts of a future they would never have.

Slowly, Mistoffelees turned around, and he felt everything around him grow silent.

Perched on the old chair, as though nothing had ever changed and Mistoffelees was simply practicing parlor tricks, was Tugger.

Clean fur, not a trace of blood or injuries in sight, and amber eyes glittering with only love and adoration.

Mistoffelees could think of nothing else do to but collapse on the ground, sobbing. His only thought was that he had finally cracked, his weeks of isolation and punishment had caused him to hallucinate. It made sense, he supposed. His greatest punishment would be to see the ghost of the mate he failed to save everywhere around him.

“Sparkles?” Tugger’s voice was now filled with worry, and much closer than before. Mistoffelees buried his face in his paws, shaking his head. He couldn’t bear to look up and see the vision his grief-riddled mind had conjured for him. Firm, warm paws grasped his wrists, and slowly pulled his paws away, but Mistoffelees kept his eyes shut. Those same paws then cupped his face, thumbs stroking the fur beneath his eyes gently, wiping away the tears. “Come on, gorgeous, let me see those beautiful eyes.”

Mistoffelees could never resist it when Tugger spoke to him like that.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, meeting Tugger’s loving gaze. A soft, warm smile spread over the maine coon’s face, and Mistoffelees couldn’t resist throwing himself forward, wrapping his arms around Tugger’s neck with a broken cry.

Tugger’s arms wound around Mistoffelees’ waist, strong and sure, and the two cats clung to each other, faces buried in the other’s fur.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” The magical tom gasped out.

Tugger pulled away, a small frown on his face as he looked at his mate. “Sorry for what, Mist?” Mistoffelees’ face dropped, but Tugger placed his paw beneath his chin, gently tilting his face back up towards him. “Mistoffelees, listen to me. What happened to me was not your fault. I would never, ever blame you for what happened. All that blame? That’s on Macavity. He’s the one who killed me.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Mistoffelees’ with a deep sigh. “You and Straps brought me home, Misto. You came after me, and I was able to say goodbye to you.”

Mistoffelees shook his head. “I should have done more, Tugs.”

“You couldn’t have done more, Misto.” Tugger replied firmly. “It was my time, and as horrible as it was, you couldn’t do anything to change it.” Mistoffelees let out another sob, and Tugger pulled him back into his arms, hugging him fiercely.

Mistoffelees wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, the two cats clinging to each other. By the time they pulled apart, he had cried out all his tears, and Tugger was back to smiling, pressing soft kisses all over the magical cat’s face.

Now that he was no longer crying, Mistoffelees could see the soft glow around his mate wasn’t simply due to his own watery eyes.

“This isn’t a hallucination, is it?” He asked softly.

Tugger chuckled, standing and pulling Mistoffelees up with him. “Not at all, my marvelous, magical magician. You did this.”

Mistoffelees’ brow furrowed. “Me?”

“I’m not sure exactly, but all that magic you let out, combined with your grief and love, it brought me here for just a little while.” Tugger said gently. He looked up at the moon above them. “It’s a full moon, as well. Like during the Ball.”

Of course.

Full moons, whether it was the night of the Ball or not, were when the Jellicle magic was strongest, and the veil between the Heaviside Layer and the living world was lifted, allowing moments of peace between deceased cats and their families.

Mistoffelees let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, tilting forward to rest his head against Tugger’s shoulder as he sent an unspoken whisper of thanks to the Everlasting Cat for granting him a final moment with his mate.

“I’m going to sing at the next Ball.” He admitted quietly.

Tugger’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, tight and comforting. “I had a feeling you would.” He leaned over, nuzzling the top of Mistoffelees head lovingly. He then stepped back, away from Mistoffelees, and held out a paw with a bright smile. “One last dance?”

Mistoffelees felt bittersweet tears fill his eyes. Their last dance in their clearing, the spot where their relationship had started. He took a steadying breath, and waved his paws.

Soft music filled the clearing, just like it did on the night so long ago, when they had snuck away as new mates, giggling and holding paws. Now, he reached out, tangling his fingers with the ghost of his mate’s, and Tugger gave him a sad little smile, pulling him closer.

The maine coon slipped an arm around his waist, and pressed a kiss to the spot just below Mistoffelees’ ear, where he knew the magical cat was ticklish. Mistoffelees laughed, something he had not done in ages, and his grip on Tugger’s paw tightened. He felt Tugger smile, and he felt himself pulled into a slow, gentle dance, Tugger never letting go of his paw.

Mistoffelees’ smile faded into something quieter, something more secretive, and he burrowed into Tugger’s mane, breathing deeply.

As Tugger’s arms tightened around him, their dancing turning into more of a gentle sway, Mistoffelees found himself with a single thought.

“What a precious love it’s been.”

[tending-the-hearth]

i'm here to write silly little reunion fics and chew bubblegum, and i'm all out of bubblegum 😌

[russellsppttemplates]

first father day for our boys!

Note: it's dad!driver, which we all love!

Charles Leclerc

"We don't want to wake up papa, right, my love?", you asked your son as you took him out of his bed, changing his diaper in the changing table, "and now you're going to tuck into mama's chest while I make us some breakfast", you wrapped him in the sling, grabbing your utensils and starting your baking.

When you had everything ready, you put it in a tray, balancing the tray and your son, "see? Papa drives really fast cars, but can he do what mama's doing? I don't think so, mon ange", you kissed the top of his head, walking inside the bedroom and seeing your shirtless husband resting his back against the headboard, "seems papa is not going to be surprised as he is up already", you scrunched your nose, setting the tray down on the bed so you could unwrap Hervé so he could go to Charles, "happy father's day, my love", you said as Hervé snuggled on his chest.

"Aren't you happy today?", Charles cooed as his son smiled up at him, "I really want to spend the day in bed with my two favourite people, if that's okay", your husband suggested, "and I smell some delicious pancakes, which is more the reason to stay inside", he smiled.

Sitting next to him, you snuggled to his side, the both of you looking at your baby boy, "you're the best papa, Charles, and we are both so lucky to have you in our lives", you whispered, rubbing your nose on his bicep, "I'm the lucky one, Y/N".

George Russell

"Hey, little love", George croaked out as Olivia crawled up to him, her hands going up to his face as she tapped his stubbly cheek, "isn't this a great morning greeting, hm? Seeing your gorgeous face right in the morning", your husband straightened up, propping himself against the pillows so he could sit Olivia on his lap.

"Mummy is doing something downstairs, isn't she? She always goes all out for these celebrations, and we love that very much, but she also loves to do those things alone, she likes having control over it", he smiled as his daughter grabbed his cheeks, "they're not as squishy as yours, buy they'll do apparently", he managed to say as Olivia pulled and pushed.

After waiting a little bit, George out on a t-shirt and walked downstairs with Olivia on his hip, finding his wife in her pyjamas, writing a card, "hello, handsome. Me and Liv are you a card", you smiled as you showed him the abstract drawing, "very artsy, that's for sure. So we are having breakfast and then going to my parents'?", he recalled, "yes. Your mother just texted me saying the surprise for your father if going in full swing, he doesn't suspect a thing", you smiled.

"Sounds like grandpa is going to love his surprise then", George cheered to Olivia, "all of the kids and grandkids in the same place".

Mick Schumacher

"When mama said she was surprising papa, she didn't account for you walking me up, did she?", Mick said as Aurora fussed in her cot beside the bed, making him pick her up so he coiled changed her diaper and grab her bottle, "she forgets that your our alarm clock these days", he chuckled as he walked downstairs, wanting to make it easier for you and not having you carry anything upstairs.

Pierre Gasly

"She's baking that cake I really like, isn't she? I bet you told her I was craving it, and that was our secret, miss Rora", he chuckled, crossing the corner and seeing Angie greet him excitedly before he heard your voice, "I knew you were up the minute Angie left me in the kitchen. This little bug was supposed to keep sleeping so you would be surprised", you pouted, hugging your husband's torso and kissing your daughter's cheek.

"I can go back upstairs if you want me to act surprised", Mick pointed to the stairs, "I'll just jump and pretend I didn't know you were baking my favourite, I'll even let out a small scr-", he chuckled out as you started tickling his stomach, "I'm perfectly fine with eating here. I have my girls, all three of them", he said as Angie laid by his feet, "best father's day ever".

"This is where papa used to race", Pierre spoke to Alexandre as he looked curiously around the track. Since his brothers also wanted to spend a fun father's day wirh their kids, who were a good bit older than your son, he rented out the karting track so they could spend their day together.

Lance Stroll

"And you will too one day, if that's something you'd like to do, join your cousins for races and battle for the first place", Pierre continued, "we might have to wait a while, I'm sure mama will wrap you in bubble wrap the minute you say something about karting and I'm going to be the one to hear about it the first time you have so much of a scratch".

"They're the duo you always imagined they would be, hm?", your sister in-law Charlotte said as you sat down at the tables, sipping on your coffees, "he's my son, and I know he loves me as I love him, but as soon as Pierre gets back or as soon as he sees him, it's gars competing with my husband for his attention", you smiled, "the fact that they're lookalikes also helps the whole thing, it's Pierre and his mini him, and he loves every second of it".

"I don't know if I ever told you, but when you were pregnant, he was so worried he wasn't going to be a good father because of his schedule, that you and Alexandre would resent him sooner rather than later. We told him he was so wrong, there was no way that would happen", Charlotte noted, "and it's true, look at him", you pointed at your husband who was adjusting Alexandre in a go kart with him as the baby sat on his lap, "the best papa".

"When mummy and I found out we were expecting you, I think that was one of the best days of my life", Lance told the little baby resting in his arms, big brown eyes looking up at his own and hanging on to every word he was saying, "the other ones are probably when I won my first race, when mummy and I started dating, and when we got married. The day you were born, though, that was another level of happiness and a bunch of other emotions", Lance gulped, "you made me a father, Addy, and I hope I'm doing my best because you and mummy deserve the world, the moon and the stars, and I'm trying to get them for you", he said as he snuggled her further into the blanket and on his chest.

The night was beautiful, nice temperature and clear sky so you could see the stars, shining beautifully. The plans weren't big, but neither of you liked big plans. A cabin for the weekend and the perfect environment to just chill out and enjoy family time.

"Here's your mug", you called, holding the two steaming mugs with tea and setting your husband's in the arm of the big garden sofa, "we're you two having a chat?", you asked, kissing Lance's lips and Addalynn's head, "is it a chat if it's just me doing the talking? Little miss is not very keen on sharing her opinion", he chuckled.

"She loves listening to you, I think she's fine with just that", you smiled, taking a sip from your mug and snuggling up to him, "did you like your first father's day, love?", you wondered, "I loved it, I spent it with my favourite girls, doing my favourite things", he smiled back, "there's nowhere o would rather be", he said before kissing your forehead.

Daniel Ricciardo

Daniel had been the one to make the plans for his first father's days: a picnic in the garden with his wife and daughter. They ate croissants they had baked in the morning and shared giggles and silly faces whilst enjoying the sun.

"I'm going to make a flower bracelet for you, little one", he explained as he gathered the flowers, "this is going to be a present for you, even though it will never come close to the best present I ever got from mummy, which is you, by the way, in case daddy wasn't clear", he chuckled, "so we begin with this one here, and we thread it through here", he kept showing her as you took in the sight.

Daniel was the best father to your little girl. There wasn't a moment where he didn't give his all for her, always there at her every need and encouraging her whenever she braved through in her explorer adventures, "That's right, that goes in your wrist. Clever girl!", he cooed, kissing her chubby cheeks.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

[tightjeansjavi]

hi hi hi!! happy sleepover and happy one year of writing fic! 🩷 i’d love to request a little drabble (as i’m writing this I realize I can’t remember which emoji that is please forgive me) for frankie!! maybe like late night/rainy night vibes? x

Liv, baby, thank you for requesting this 🥺 I love me some soft soft Frankie

-

all my dreamin’

A/N: I love Frankie, and I love rainy nights 🥺

~word count: 485~

Summary: Frankie is rich with his love for you

Pairing | frankie morales x f!reader

Warnings: none, just some soft Frankie fluff, one mention of alcohol, established relationship, domestic intimacy, no age gap (no mention of age) +18 minors dni!

Translations:

mi vida - my life

Rain lightly patters against the window of yours and Frankie’s shared apartment. It’s late, half past midnight when the storm has started and Frankie hasn't returned home yet.

You’re used to the late nights without him. After long hours of working a construction job with the rest of the guys, Frankie would always be coaxed into having a drink at the local watering hole. One beer that he would sip for the next few hours before retiring home to you.

He was working extra shifts just to scrape up a bit more money for rent on top of your office gig. Money may be tight, but you and Frankie made things work. It was a relationship built upon mutual trust, and understanding.

-

When he returns home it’s one a.m. He’s quiet, not wanting to disturb you. He places his keys and wallet in the little bowl next to the door right next to your keys. He locks the front door, double checking it a couple times before deciding that it was in fact locked. He unlaces his boots, setting them down on the doormat.

It’s raining heavily now, thunder rumbling in the distance, and a bright flash of lighting casted shadows on the wall before he was plunged back into darkness once more. While he’s in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water, he notices a new drip in the ceiling and places an empty pot under it so that the water could collect there.

I’ll work on fixing that tomorrow. He thinks.

His socks have been worn so many times that there’s holes forming in the worn fabric. He refuses to replace them, despite your thoughtful nagging that there’s nothing wrong with buying new socks, Francisco.

But then I can’t spend my money spoiling you, mi vida.

You just roll your eyes, smile tugging on the corner of your lips.

When he gently pushes open the door to your shared bedroom, the first thing he notices is a brand new pack of socks on his nightstand. He lets out a soft huff, shaking his head as he picks up the socks and glances over at your sleeping frame under the comforter.

You little shit.

He sets the socks down along with his hat along the nightstand, scrubbing a hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

He’s slow to undress, feeling sleep begin to pinch the corner of his eyes as he tosses his clothes on the floor and crawls under the covers. His arm snakes around your waist, tucking himself around you, lips brushing the back of your neck in a tender sweep.

You stir, but don’t awake from your dreamland.

He squeezes you gently, breathing in your scent—the smell of clean linen and freshly fallen rain.

The ceiling may need patching, and his socks may have holes in them, but he’s rich in another way: he’s rich with love.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 💗

Please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

[sirenlulls]

feels like ➞ e. hewson

pairing — elijah hewson x fem!reader (gracie abrams fc)

fic type — social media au

met you at the right time. this is what it feels like!

♡ liked by gallagher_anais, izzyrichmond_, and 663,982 others

yourusername hello dublin!! i missed u angels sm 🫶 the last time i played a home show it was to a crowd of 200 at most & while i’ll always be grateful for those intimate shows and the family we built, i am so so so grateful and excited to play a sold out 3arena tomorrow with some very special guests ;) see you soon 💋

user SPECIAL GUESTS???? she’s definitely bringing inhaler out for a song or something

user no because didn’t she say on an ig live a few months ago that she helped eli write perfect storm…

user STOP ID CRY

joshjenkinson_ LFG!!!! 🤍🤍

user WHAT DO YOU KNOW JOSHUA.

evehewson beautiful beautiful girl 🫶

yourusername i love u to the moon and back by gorgeous eve ☹️💗

jordanjoyhewson ⭐️girl!! So excited for you x

user her friendship with eli’s sisters is so special to me

user im so excited i’ve been looking forward to this for months 😭😭

oliviarodrigo sososoooooooo proud of u baby 🥹

yourusername UGH!! my liv my life i love u too much

user you’ve grown so much in the past year im inconsolable

bobbyskeetz they were lovely leaves

yourusername getting the snow angel practice in early x

ynhq getting our bows ready!!

elijahhewson you betrayed me with that picture 💔

yourusername the job of a girlfriend is to humble, i’m sorry babe xx

phoebebridgers 🖤🖤🖤

ryanmcmahon_15 just updated their story!

♡ liked by jojolovedog, lizzymcalpine, and 721,798 others

yourusername thank u thank u thank u all for giving me the perfect end to an already perfect tour… speaking of perfect things…. thank u to my angels inhalerdublin for joining me onstage for an encore. i love u guys so much & performing with u was a gift in and of itself 🫶 i’ll miss performing live but i’m so happy to be able to settle down for a while with those close to me. i love u all so so so much. thank u for supporting me 💗💗💗

user do you understand how many lives were impacted by this show.

user this is my boobgenius

reneerapp born to serve 💋

inhalerdublin thanks for having us 🫶❤️

yourusername i was looking at josh when he typed this guys just fyi

ryanmcmahon_15 i, too, ❤️ inhaler!

nieveella stunning beautiful yummy delectable talented showstopping amazing gorgeous perfect (storm)!!!!!!!

yourusername love u sm ☹️💋

user my roman empire

katiegavs can i get a kiss… pls

yourusername anything for u 💋💋

user post concert depression has already started to kick in

user u and eli sharing a mic for the perfect storm chorus had me 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM UNWELL

stellajones IT GIRLLLLLL

gallagher_anais don’t mind me, just sobbing in my little corner 🥺🫶💗

yourusername ani babyyyyy i love u sm ☹️☹️

yourusername updated their story!

♡ liked by lilamoss, joshjenkinson_, and 699,810 others

yourusername a special thank u to this loser who means the world 2 me. don’t know why u decided to eat that paper but… i still love u forever and ever and ever and ever and… ever!!!

user omg the last pic in dying did they grow up together???

yourusername we went to the same playschool!! went to different primary & secondaries tho 💔

user THATS SO CUTE WTF

elijahhewson you love posting bad pics of me

yourusername you’re a leo you’ll be fine

elijahhewson love you and proud of you always 🤍

yourusername ILY BITCHHHHHHH

bobbyskeetz poor lad was starving

maisiehpeters so cute 🥹❤️‍🩹🎀

evehewson My faves ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user my alex turner & alexa chung fr

chappellroan IM CRYINGGGG YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST EVER

laufey 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞

[matty-bear]

Concert Fright [C.S]

type: fic !

pairing: drummer!chris sturniolo x fem!little!reader

warnings: sfw, fluffy, age regression

summary: you and your friend liv manage to bag tickets for your favorite band ! who knew it would take a sudden overwhelming turn and the two of you would end up backstage ? 

notes: submission for Bratzfornick141 writing contest ! (which is hosted by @bratzforchris and @nicksbestie !) <story elements selected: fluff, age regression, band member x fan, and concert> first age regression related fic i'm so excited ^^ hope u enjoy ! happy reading <33

WC: 4.7K

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The loud chatter of people ran through your ears as your friend, Liv, pulled you down the aisle and to the barricade. You could faintly make out an artist playing on the speakers in the small venue however you couldn’t quite make out who it was exactly due to all the commotion around you. With a soft exhale, you grasp the black railing and look over at the brunette next to you with a large smile. 

“Okay, but you have to admit I bagged such good tickets,” Liv says as she turns on her heels, an equally large smile plastered on her lips as she looks over at you. 

A few weeks ago, you and Liv’s favorite band announced that they would be going on tour. Considering how huge fans the two of you were of them, you both immediately decided on going. After ensuring that they were going to come to your area, Liv immediately made a plan for how to get tickets. The female took it upon herself to get in the traumatizing queue of Ticketmaster and sat in front of her desk for around an hour in hopes of bagging tickets. 

Luckily, she managed to get two front-row tickets and didn’t hesitate to call you the moment she got the confirmation email. Since then, you guys began to plan out concert outfits (you guys obviously got matching outfits) and counted down the days till the band came to your area. 

And that brings us to now. 

“These are amazing seats, props to you for fighting all the fangirls.” You praise the female with a small pat on her shoulder. Liv simply chuckles softly at the touch and quickly digs her hand into the pocket of her pants. After pulling her phone out, she taps her screens softly and turns the device so it faces you. 

“Two more minutes!” Liv lets out a small squeal of excitement and takes her free hand to grab your shoulder and shake your body back and forth. A small stream of giggles falls from your lips as you rock back and forth on your heels a few times before the brunette finally lets you go. “You think Matt will notice me? I mean I will be right in front of him.” 

“I’m one hundred percent sure that he will fall in love with you the second he comes on stage. Kid will get so dazed that they're gonna have to call for a break.” 

“Awh wait, I don't want them to have to stop mid-concert.” Liv frowns faintly with a soft huff. You shrug your shoulders and turn your head to allow your eyes to land on the stage in front of you. Your gaze wanders to the instruments towards the back for a moment, allowing your brain to get a better sense of your surroundings. You can faintly make out two of Matt’s guitars on a light brown rack tucked in the corner, the light blue one being attached to the amp a little closer to the ramp near the side of the stage. 

Next to the rack was Chris’ orange drum set, the set the male has had since the beginning of the band’s career. The boy never went a day, from what you know, without using his orange drum set. You vividly remember him saying in a video that he’s grown very attached to the said set and would never get rid of it, even if the wrap is scratched and beaten to the core. It simply holds too many memories. As you stare at the bass, you feel your insides start to churn, half out of nervousness and half out of excitement. 

You were very fond of Chris, him being your favorite member of the band. You felt as though the two of you had a lot of things in common and that’s why you were so drawn to him. Yes, the boy was very attractive but his personality was what took the cake for you. He knew when it was time to mess around and when it was time to get to work and you respected him a lot for it. In the middle of your daze, the lights suddenly dim, and the speakers get rid of the music sounding from them. 

Immediately, the sound of high-pitched screaming runs through your ears. You freeze on the spot, a million feelings running through your veins all at once. At first, the feeling was a little overwhelming, however when you felt Liv’s hand gently grasp your hand, you felt more at ease. As you glance over at the female next to you, the sight of her excited expression brings you pure happiness. You watch her quickly take her phone out and open her camera before you face the stage again. 

The second you do so, the band begins to take the stage. Your jaw drops slightly as you watch the boys take their places in front of their instruments or Nick’s case, take his mic, and set it on the stand. You find yourself staring at Chris, your breath getting caught in your throat as you watch him take a seat behind his drums. A large smile can be seen on his lips as he bends down slightly to slip two sticks out from his bag. 

As he begins to twirl one in between his fingers, his free hand raises to adjust his in-ear. The boy finally lifts his head after a few moments and the two of you immediately lock eyes. You feel your face heat up when the brunette sends you a small wave, his smile somehow growing even wider. You send a small wave back before averting your gaze over to Nick who’s standing directly in front of you. 

Holy fuck he waved at me. 

Your heart was going at a million miles per hour at this point. You just made rather long eye contact with your favorite member not even a minute into their set. Your limbs were beginning to feel like jelly but you kept your strong hold of the barrier to keep yourself steady. As you kept your gaze focused on Nick, a certain boy behind him kept his eyes trained on you. 

“Hey guys!” Nick greets into the mic, his voice booming through the speakers and filling the venue. The crowd immediately begins to scream loudly at the boy's simple greeting. “It’s great to finally be here! You all look lovely tonight, I swear we have one of the best-dressed fanbases. Wouldn’t you agree, Matt?” 

The blonde turns his head slightly to look over at the mentioned brunette who rips his focus away from the guitar in his hands. Matt takes a moment to look out to the crowd, his eyes scanning over a few fans before he nods his head with a small smile. 

“Well, I'm sure you guys have been waiting for long enough. How about we jump right in, yes?” Nick asks as he focuses his attention back to the crowd ahead of him. In response, everyone begins screaming again. Nick lightly chuckles in response, his mic barely picking up the sound. 

The boy turns his body slightly to look back at Chris and gives him a small nod. The brunette nods firmly in response and you can faintly make out his chest rise and fall softly before he begins to play. You immediately recognize the song by the first few beats and a small scream escapes your lips as a result. 

“It’s your song, girl!” Liv exclaims as she clamps a hand on your shoulder. You nod your head rapidly in response, your eyes shifting from Chris to Nick again as he begins to sing the first verse.  You immediately allow yourself to get absorbed in the band’s set as their music spills from the speakers. The boys started with some of their slower songs and eventually transitioned to their upbeat ones, which caused the crowd to lose their shit. (that includes you and Liv) 

As they were a few songs in, you felt yourself start to get a little overwhelmed. The girl behind you was starting to throw your senses off with her non-stop screaming in your ear. It seemed as though she had no off button during the band’s set. While you’re all for enjoying a concert and allowing yourself to be free during sets, you strongly dislike when people are nonstop screaming and aren’t being considerate of the people around them. 

On top of the girls screaming, the music was starting to get a little too loud for your liking. Usually, you wouldn’t mind this however your feelings were getting thrown about like a rag doll and you felt super out of wack. Due to how overwhelming you were starting to become, you were starting to feel a little small. As your chest was starting to tighten and you felt yourself about to slip into your headspace, you looked over at Liv. 

You hesitated getting the female’s attention since she seemed to be enjoying herself but you needed to get out of the crowd and God knew you couldn’t do it by yourself. People were constantly shoving each other, trying to get closer to the front, and as a result, you got shoved against the barricade, your ribs and legs smashing against the cold, hard metal.

After a long moment of hesitation, you grab Liv’s arm and shake her gently. It took a few good tugs for the female to finally turn to look over at you but when she did, a concerned expression flashed on her face as she looks at you. 

“What’s wrong?” The female asks, her free hand immediately grasping your wrist. You let out a small whine and shake your head in response. You were fighting for your life to be big at this point and as a result, you couldn’t bring yourself to verbally respond to the girl. Liv takes a moment to study your features until it finally clicks.

She goes to open her mouth to say something however at the sound of two girls screaming bloody murder behind you, you immediately crouch down. One hand immediately shoots to cover your ear as the other firmly gasps one of the bars on the barricade, a small whimper escaping your lips as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Liv says, her voice barely audible over the intense amount of screaming around the two of you. “y/n you need to get up. You’re gonna get trampled if you stay down there.” After not gaining a bodily response from you, Liv huffs and bends down slightly to grab you from beneath your arms. 

With one strong pull, she lifts you to her feet and allows you to crash against her chest. When your soft whimpers and cries fill her ears, Liv sighs softly and rubs her hand against your back. As she begins to look at the crowd behind her, the dials in her brain begin to turn as she attempts to figure out how to get to a secluded area. Little did the female know, a certain band member had been intently watching the two females the moment the situation went down. 

As Chris finishes his part of the song, he stops and allows his arms to drop to his lap, the tip of his sticks lightly grazing the hoop of his snare. As he takes one more worried glance at you, he finally lets his eyes shift over to Matt, who has now begun to walk to the front of the stage to play his guitar solo. Chris lets out a rather impatient huff and looks over at Nick, who’s reaching down to grab someone’s phone, not paying attention to anyone but the person in front of him. 

No one’s paying attention. Shit. 

As the brunette continues to keep the steady beat of the song through the usage of his bass, he eyes Matt and waits for the male to be done with his solo. When the boy strums the final chord and begins backing up, Chris finally decides to grab his attention. 

“Matt!” The boy whisper-shouts. After not gaining a reply, he yells again, this time a little louder. “Matt!”

The guitar player finally turns his head, his eyes immediately locking with Chris’ worried ones. “What’s up?” Matt mouths. 

Chris lifts a single stick and points toward you and Liv’s direction. “Get security and tell them to escort those two to the back.” 

“The back?” 

Chris rolls his eyes at the hesitant look Matt gives him. “Yes, the back! Hurry the fuck up!” 

Matt huffs and turns back around, his eyes immediately getting to work on finding security. The moment his gaze falls on a bright yellow vest near the center of the stage, he quickly hurries over to them. When his turn to play comes up, his fingers begin to dance around the fret of his guitar. Due to both of his hands being busy, he crouches down as close as he can to the security and calls for them. At the sight of the brunette struggling to get the security’s attention, the fans in front of him assist the male by also shouting.

When the security finally turns back to face Matt, the latter quickly turns his head towards where you and Liv are. “Get those two girls to the back, please. Chris’ order.” The male states as he swiftly stands back up. 

“Who?” The security asks, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looks up at the brunette. 

“Front row, right in front of Nick. They’re wearing matching outfits and one of them has the other held against her chest. Hurry please.” The security quickly nods and hurries over to where you and Liv are. When his eyes land on the two of you, he quickly shouts for you both. 

“Hey, I'm taking you two to the back. Come with me please.” The male informs Liv after locking eyes with her. The female faintly nods and gently pushes your shoulders so she can see your face. 

“Hey, they’re gonna take us to the back. Come on.” Liv says, her left hand gently running up and down your arm in a comforting manner. “Are you big or did you slip?” After you send the female a blank stare with a small pout, Liv sighs gently. “Come on, hun. I’ll help you get over the barricade.” 

Liv carefully sets both her hands on your hips and on the count of three, she helps you get over the barricade. The moment your legs swing over the top railing, the security member grabs onto your arms and helps set you down. The male doesn’t have time to check on you and get back to Liv before the female leaps over the railing. She lands on the hard floor with a hollow thump and takes a moment to dust herself off and adjust her skirt before gently grabbing both of your wrists. 

“Come on you two.” The security says. With a single wave of the hand, the male begins walking to the back, you and Liv following close behind him. The entire walk to the back, the female held you as close as she could, a single arm being kept around your waist. After a while, the loud beats and screams of the crown died down, ultimately lowering your uneasiness. Nonetheless, you were still frightened and tightly clutched onto Liv’s blouse for support. 

“I’m gonna let you guys in this room for the time being. If you need anything, call one of the staff members. There’s already plenty of snacks and beverages in there so help yourselves.” The security says as he begins to unlock a door. After opening it and pushing it wide open, Liv bids the male a soft thank you before guiding you inside. The moment the door shuts behind the two of you, the female lets out a small sigh of relief and pulls you to the sofa. As you plop down on one of the cushions, you gaze over at Liv with a pout. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” The female asks as she sets a gentle hand on your kneecap. At the sight of you rubbing your stomach, Liv nods her head and gets up from the sofa. She takes a glance around the small room and the moment her eyes land on a large tray on the nearby dresser, her eyes light up. She quickly makes her way over to the tray and examines the snack selection for a moment. 

Nuts, health bars, crackers…

When her gaze lands on the stack of fruit snacks and chocolate chip cookies, Liv immediately grabs two packages of each snack with a small smile. She turns on her heels when they’re in her grasp and makes her way over to you. The moment she takes a seat next to you, she sets the packages on your lap. 

“Which one would you like, hun?” Liv asks gently. You force your lips together as you stare down at the snacks. After a moment of ‘pondering,’ you snatch up a pack of the fruit gummies and set them on Liv’s thigh. “Great choice! These are so yummy.” The female picks up the small pack and opens it with one small tug. “Here you go!” 

When she hands you the pack, a large smile appears on your lips, your eyes crinkling slightly. You gently slip the pack off the girl’s hand and stuff your fingers into the small opening. As you silently indulge in your sweet treat, Liv leans back against the back of the sofa and takes her phone out to keep herself busy. 

-One hour later- 

“Yeah, they’re in here.” 

“Alright, thank you so much.” 

At the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the door, Liv immediately lifts her head. The moment she turns to look over at the shut door, it opens slowly with a small creeeeak.

The female’s eyes widen in pure shock when Nick pops his head inside the room, a worried expression plastered on his face. When the blonde notices that the girl already has her eyes trained on him, he smiles softly. “Hey, girl! Is it okay if we come in?” Nick asks gently. 

Liv’s mind sputters for a moment, all of her words seeming to be caught in the back of her throat. She takes one glance down at you, who’s settled in her lap and is intently staring at her phone which is playing My Little Pony before she looks back over at Nick. 

“You can come in,” Liv replies, silently cursing herself at the way her voice cracked slightly. Nick sends the female a small smile before he stands upright and gently pushes the door open. He turns around for a moment and waves his hand before walking inside the room. At the sight of Matt and Chris entering shortly after him, Liv’s jaw drops and she quickly clamps a hand over her mouth. 

“Are you two doing alright? Chris told me to get security and have them bring y'all back here.” Matt asks as he gently shuts the door with a soft click. 

“Yeah, we’re fine now. My friend here just had a little episode.” Liv replies with a small head nod. 

“She get too overwhelmed in the crowd? I saw everyone pushing each other and it looked horrible for the people in the front. I tried to get people to calm down but you can only do so much, you know?” Nick asks, a small frown overtaking his features. 

“Yeah, she did. She's usually able to handle concert settings but the crowd today just didn’t sit right with her.” As Nick and Matt gently nod their heads, Chris hesitantly takes a step forward. When he’s able to get a better view of your face, a small smile creeps up onto his lips when he sees you already peering up at him with slightly wide eyes. 

“Hey, kid.” The brunette greets. As you hide your now flushed face behind Liv’s phone, the boy chuckles softly. When his eyes shift over to the open pack of fruit snacks that is discarded near your leg, he carefully picks it up. “You like fruit snacks too?” 

You slowly lower the phone to peer up at Chris before you nod your head. “They’re yummy aren’t they?” 

As the brunette continues to converse with you, Nick and Matt exchange confused looks. “Chris, what the hell are you doing?” 

At Nick’s sudden question, Chris cuts himself off and quickly turns his head to look back at the blonde. After taking a moment to take in the elder's warning look, he replies, “Making her more comfortable. She's a little, right?” 

At the boy’s straightforward question, Liv’s jaw drops. The female shuffles back a little in her spot before eyeing the boy closely and hesitantly replying, “Yeah… How did you figure that out?” 

“I have a friend who’s a little so I kinda have a gist of how they act and such.” Liv hums slowly and intently watches as Chris shifts his focus back to you. “How old are you, angel?” 

You look down at your free hand and stare down at your fingers before holding up three of them and shoving them out in front of you. “Three? You’re very well-behaved for a three-year-old!”

You flash the male a large toothy grin as you force yourself up into a sitting position, both of your hands dropping down onto your lap with a soft plop. You look down at your hands for a moment, getting caught up in gazing at your pastel pink nails before your eyes snap over to Liv's phone which is still open and playing the cartoon you were watching moments ago. In one swift movement, you grab the device and show the screen to Chris. The male jumps slightly at your sudden move however his eyes soften as he watches AppleJack and Rainbow Dash converse on the screen.  

“Woah, I love My Little Pony! Who’s your favorite pony?” The brunette exclaims with a wide smile. You set the phone down on your lap to point at one of your pink nails. “Pinkie?” You rapidly nod your head with a small giggle, your legs kicking out in front of you subconsciously. “She’s a silly one isn’t she?” 

You nod once more and point at Chris, your action causing a confused expression to paint his face. After a moment, what you’re trying to say finally clicks in the boy's head. “My favorite pony is Rainbow! She’s so cool and fast. I would say she’s super cool but I'd be calling Matt super cool and I don't wanna gas him up like that. You know, considering how she plays the guitar in the human world and Matt also plays guitar.”

At the male's statement, Matt narrows his eyes and shoves Chris’s shoulder. You watch the latter stumble a little from the sudden hit with a small giggle. “Did I say something wrong?” Chris asks, a fake hurtful expression flashing across his features as he looks back at the male next to him. 

“Yeah. Watch your mouth.” Matt grumbles in response, his eyes rolling as he turns on his heels and makes his way to the mini fridge in the corner of the room. When the boy is out of earshot, Chris walks up to you and bends down so you’re at eye level. 

“He’s all bark, no bite.” The boy whispers to you, his statement earning yet another giggle from you. 

At the sudden sound of three hollow knocks, the five of you all turn around to face the open door. Your eyebrows furrow in pure confusion when your eyes land on a female leaning against the doorway, both her arms crossed over her chest. “We need to get to the hotel. What are you three doing?” The female asks, a single eyebrow raising as she eyes the band. 

“We’re just checking up on our friends, Laura. They had a little incident during the set and we just wanted to make sure they were alright.” Nick replies with a soft sigh. 

Laura shifts her gaze over to look at you and Liv, her eyes narrowing as she eyes you both. “Oh. Well, they seem fine so let’s go. I seriously don’t want to deal with the receptionist today because we showed up late.” 

“We’ll be there in a minute, Laura. Go wait in the bus.” Matt dismisses the female with a wave of his hand, his eyes staying fixed on the can of Root Beer in his hand. Laura huffs and turns on her heels before walking off. When her footsteps fade, Chris turns around and puts his focus back on you. 

“So, where were we?” The boy asks you with a small smile. You quickly grab Liv’s phone once more and show the brunette the screen again. “Ah, yes! Did you know that Nick’s favorite pony is Rarity? Pretty fitting, huh?” 

“Alright, kid. There’s no need to out me like this.” Nick mumbles as he stuffs his hands in the pocket of his pants. “I think we should wrap things up before Laura starts dragging us to the bus.” 

At the blonde’s suggestion, Chris pouts and looks back at the older male with a pleading expression. “Exchange numbers or something if you want. We need to go kid, come on.” Matt says as he crushes the empty can in his hand. 

Chris sighs softly and looks over at Liv, his pout not faltering as he gazes up at the female. “Can I have her number, please?” 

“Yeah, of course! y/n would be pissed if I said no.” Liv replies with a small chuckle. 

y/n…

“Am I her favorite or something?”. 

“God, yes. She won’t shut the hell up about you sometimes. I swear if I bring up one thing that’s somehow related to you, she would immediately go on a tangent about you. I’ve learned to tread carefully when I say stuff yet she still manages to yap about you.” 

At the female’s statement, Chris looks over at you with a wide, cheeky smile. “How cute are you!” The brunette exclaims. The boy lands a few playful pokes on your side, the small touch drawing small squeals from you. 

After being rushed by Matt, Chris finally gets your number in his phone. The three boys quickly bid you and Liv farewell however before they leave, you quickly get up from your spot on the sofa and rush over to Chris. The brunette looks down at your shy expression and smiles warmly before engulfing you a hug. With a small pat on the head, the boy pulls away from the warm embrace and ruffles your hair before leaving the room. 

“You're whipped aren’t you?” Nick asks the moment the three of them are out of earshot from you and Liv. 

“What? No.” Chris replies with a firm shake of the head. 

“Sure, kid. Sure.” Matt says as he lands a single hand on the younger’s shoulder. Chris looks over at the male and takes in his teasing smile before rolling his eyes. 

The boy was most definitely wrapped around your finger but was he going to come to terms with it? Absolutely not. Well… not right now that is. 

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[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Epilogue

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - smut

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and extreme cuteness. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~2.7k

A/N : I couldn't not write them getting married. This is a cute little send off for Billy and Reader.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Epilogue

TWO MONTHS LATER

You’d talked about a long engagement - it made sense given the fact that you’d only known each other for around eight months when he proposed (and those eight months had been some of the rockiest of your life). You’d both agreed that it was sensible to wait, to get used to living together before taking another big step in your relationship.

You made it six weeks before changing your mind.

Everyone thought you were crazy, Sam begged you to wait just a few more months (to Billy’s annoyance), and the news rendered Karen speechless for at least five minutes before she started to go into overdrive thinking about her bridesmaid duties.

You couldn’t explain why, you just knew. Nothing was going to change the way you felt about Billy and, every day with him just felt perfect, right. So, what was the point in waiting to make it official?

That was how you came to be standing on a beach in Mexico at sunset, a small group of your friends and family watching as you made your way towards the little altar and Billy. His mouth hung open as he watched you walk down the short, sandy aisle towards him and when you reached him, he was at a complete loss for words.

“I think that look means he likes the dress,” Karen joked in your ear.

Your dress was simple but elegant, hugging your figure in all the right places and showing just enough skin to be enticing without being indecent. Karen and your sister-in-law, Liv, and helped with your hair and make up, and you’d never felt better about yourself than you did in that moment. Especially with how Billy was looking at you.

“You look -” he tried and shook his head, “- wow.”

“You look pretty good too,” you joked, reaching for him to smooth the collar of his light grey suit jacket.

“You sure you want to do this?” He almost sounded nervous, like it was finally becoming real to him; you were going to be his wife.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this,” you smiled, your hand cupping his cheek for a moment, before finally turning to face the man officiating over the marriage. Billy took a breath before doing the same. 

You barely listened to the words being spoken, you were too busy watching Billy from the corner of your eye, nervous but happier than you’d ever been. And, when it was finally time for your vows, you turned to Billy, watching your normally calm and confident man fumble with a piece of paper handed to him by Frank.

“I never really had anyone in my life who loved me before you,” he started softly, his eyes fixed on yours. “I never had anyone want me after seeing every side of me, never had anyone who laughed at my stupid jokes until you. My life changed that day I took you for coffee and, since then, there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you.”

You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, that you didn’t want to ruin the wedding photos with panda-eyes, but the moment Billy took your hands in his, you felt your eyes starting to well up.

“When I’m with you I get to see the world in new and amazing ways; you give my life colour and meaning. I feel like I’m living and not just existing. And the way you love me -” his voice threatened to break, “- I never expected it, never thought I deserved it. But I promise you, from this day forward, I’ll do everything I can to deserve it, to deserve you. I promise to love you and protect you until my dying day, and I promise to make our lives together as fun and filled with happiness as I can. And I promise to trust you and listen to you, and never doubt you.”

He swallowed, trying to force the lump from his throat. “You’re my everything and I’ll never let you go.”

You blinked, still trying to hold back the tears as he gave your hands a gentle squeeze, and you were prompted to start your own vows. Unlike Billy, you’d memorised yours though, for a couple of seconds your mind threatened to go blank.

“Billy, you have the biggest heart and so much love to give. I know you sometimes think that it’s too much and that you want too much, but I promise you that’s not true. It’s never too much, not if it’s me and you,” you heard him awkwardly inhale through his nose, as if he was trying to fight back tears too. “I’m with you, no matter what life throws at us, I promise to stay by your side, and I will always protect and love you.”

You smiled at him and he smiled back with the most perfect and genuine smile you’d ever seen grace his lips. “I promise you a life full of adventure and bad jokes. And I vow to do everything I can to make you smile like that every single day because you do deserve it, Billy. Most importantly, I promise I’ll never leave you; I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“Always,” he muttered softly, gripping your hands a little tighter.

The ceremony continued and soon enough he was sliding the ring onto your finger, and at the words you may kiss the bride, Billy moved faster than you’d ever seen anyone move, pulling you close and kissing you like his life depended on it. And you lost yourself to it and him, letting him kiss you until your lungs started to burn and you heard Karen clearing her throat to remind you that you had an audience.

The look on Billy’s face when you parted was enough to have you laughing, your hand pressing against his chest, pushing him back playfully, but lingering over his racing heart.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now,” he grinned at you.

“No backsies,” you agreed, struggling to tear your eyes off of him, even though your guests were on their feet, waiting to congratulate you.

Frank clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder, pulling him back a little.

“Congratulations, brother,” he said in that usual gruff way.

“Your turn next, Frankie,” Billy laughed, glancing at Karen who threatened to murder him under her breath. 

You spent the next half hour or so going around the guests. Sam and Liv congratulated you both, and Billy promised them that he’d always take good care of you. All of Billy’s friends took the opportunity to wish you good luck and tell you how much of a pain in the ass Billy was, making both of you laugh. And, when it was finally done, you all headed to the bar for food and drinks. 

And, when the music started playing, you and Billy got to have your first dance. He’d asked to choose the song and had kept it secret, and when you heard the opening bars of Ho Hey by The Lumineers, you found yourself smiling up at him, holding him tight in your arms. And, by the time it reached the chorus and you heard Billy softly singing the line you’re my sweetheart, the tears you’d been trying to hold back started to spill.

He held you tight and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he told you, over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of the words.

And you knew that you’d never get sick of hearing them.

At some point, since arriving in Mexico, your niece and nephew had taken a real shine to Billy, and spent at least an hour chasing him around, tickling and wrestling with him. And, to your surprise, Billy went along with it, seeming to genuinely enjoy it. You’d never spoken about kids but, for a few moments you found yourself thinking that Billy would make a wonderful father one day. Maybe.

Eventually it started to get late and, one by one, your friends started to disappear until there was only you, Billy, Frank and Karen left standing. You sat and drank until well past midnight, until Billy’s hand started to pull on yours, and you knew exactly what that meant, so you got up and started to say goodnight.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got to go consummate our marriage,” Billy grinned, and you gave him a slap on the chest as your cheeks started to heat. “If we’re not done by breakfast, send pancakes. I have a feeling we’ll be at it all -”

“Billy!” You hit him again, mortified as Karen and Frank both tried not to laugh.

“What? It’s not like they don’t know what we’re gonna spend all night doing,” he laughed.

You had to pull on his arm to get him away from them before he said anything else, both of you stumbling and giggling like drunken teenagers all the way back to the honeymoon suite.

While you’d been at the wedding, the hotel staff had been into the room to put out flowers and a bottle of champagne, and had sprinkled rose petals along the floor leading to the bed - not that you got the chance to appreciate it before Billy started kissing you. Your hands ran up his chest, over his shirt, his jacket having long since been abandoned, fingers starting to tug at buttons.

“I love you, Mrs Russo,” he murmured against your lips before capturing them in another searing kiss. 

You felt his fingers tugging at the back of your dress, pulling it down with a desperation that was just so Billy. You’d once found yourself thinking that, one day, he’d settled down, that he wouldn’t want you with such needy desperation, but now you knew just how wrong you’d been. Billy would always want you, and you would always want him.

He pulled back from the kiss when your dress fell, wanting to take in the sight of you. You’d picked the white lingerie set knowing exactly how he’d respond. And Billy didn’t disappoint.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he licked his lips, taking it all in.

“Yeah, Billy, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do,” you joked as you reached for his pants, stripping him down to his underwear.

“Oh, are we?” 

Before you could answer, he’d lifted you off your feet, spinning you around before playfully throwing you onto the bed and climbing on beside you, kissing you despite your laughter. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the perfect moment. His hands explored your body, fingertips running over your bare skin like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“There’s so much I want to do to you, I don’t even know where to start,” Billy admitted, seeming almost lost and at the mercy of his own desires.

“I know exactly where I want to start,” you answered, gently pushing Billy onto his back and straddling him.

He looked up at you as you started to slowly grind yourself against him. It came as no surprise that he was already hard for you, and he felt so good pressed between your thighs. You were content to tease him like that for a minute or so, before you removed your bra. Billy’s hands slipped up your body, from your waist to your breasts. It wasn’t long before he was sitting up, his lips and tongue on your nipples, enjoying all the little sounds that slipped from your lips.

Eventually, you lightly pushed him down again, smiling a devious smile at him as you turned yourself around over him, practically straddling his face.

“I like where this is going,” you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was grinning as his hand started to trail up the backs of your thighs, his lips soon following after. It was almost enough to distract you from what you wanted to do. 

Your hands slipped his boxers down his thighs, freeing his hard cock, and Billy let out an eager moan as you took him in his hand and started to stroke him. Then you felt your panties rip.

“Billy!” You laughed.

“I want them for my collection,” he told you with a laugh of his own.

You were about to respond when you felt him part your folds and run his tongue through your arousal. The ruined panties were immediately forgotten as you lowered yourself and ran your tongue over the leaking tip of his cock. You felt him groan against you, causing you to shiver. Your lips wrapped around him and you slowly began to take him into your mouth, earning even more sounds from him. 

His tongue set to work against you as you sucked him, lips slipping up and down his cock in a way that betrayed just how much you were enjoying yourself. You trembled as his tongue alternated between teasing your clit and pressing at your slit, his name a gagged sound, moaned even though your mouth was full of him. It wasn’t long before you were grinding back against his face. 

You came suddenly, legs trembling as Billy’s greedy tongue continued to devour you while your lips kept moving, groaning around him until -

“Wait,” you heard him gasp, his hands pulling at your hips. You stopped and strained your neck to look back at him. “Not like this,” Billy panted, “I want to come inside you. I want the first time to be inside you.”

You weren’t sure why, but it made you smile how he wanted to make this moment special for both of you. Pulling away from him, before you could even fully turn yourself around, Billy had you pinned beneath him, his cock pitching into your so suddenly that it almost made your eyes roll back.

“I left something out of my wedding vows,” he told you breathlessly, stilling inside you, a ridiculous grin on his lips, “I promise to spend the rest of my life making you come as often as I can.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say that in front of everyone,” you laughed.

You gasped as he pulled up your leg, hitching it on his hip so he could bury every inch of himself inside you. His hand found your cheek and for a few moments he was content to just stare down at you, the smile on his lips enough to make you tremble around him.

“I love you,” he told you, pressing his lips to the tip of your nose, “and I vow to spend every night proving it by fucking your brains out.”

“I promise to let you,” you told him, reaching to slip your fingers back into his hair, pulling his lips to yours as he finally started to move.

It started slow, but it wasn’t long before your hips were lifting to meet his, desperate for so much more, desperate for everything. Every time he kissed you, you tasted a mixture of yourself and the Mai Tai’s you’d both spent the night drinking and it was an intoxicating combination. Your moans got louder and so did his, both gasping little breathless confessions of love, as you both took and gave everything that you needed.

When you finally came, it was his name on your lips, and Billy quickly followed after, remaining inside you long after he was done. His face pressed against your neck while your fingers ran through his sweat-damp hair, pressing little kisses to his temple.

It was strange to think how you’d gotten here; how he might never have noticed you if you’d remained sat in your car that summer's day, how you might never have gotten to this point if it hadn’t been for the faulty bathroom lock in your old apartment, and how you might never have seen him again if Michelle hadn’t sent him that thirst-trap on Halloween. There were so many ways you could have missed out on all of this, and just thinking about it made your heart ache.

You held him tight and pressed another kiss to his forehead, whispering; “I’m so glad we found each other.”

END NOTES : I promised an epilogue and there it is. Honestly, I just wanted to give them a happy send off. I know I already said it last week but thanks for reading, it's been a wild ride and I've really enjoyed writing and sharing this with you all! Maybe in the future there will be some one-shots, but for now I'm content to give them their happily ever after. I do have an idea of what I want to write next (don't worry, it's another Billy fic) and I'm going to post an excerpt sometime next week (and maybe even the first chapter but idk yet), so people can let me know if they want to be tagged in that, or if you already know you'd like me to tag you in future stuff, feel free to let me know in the comments or message me!

Have a great weekend!

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[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ — lee hyperreal x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day, Lee!!]

darling, you're the one I want

a.n. - self-indulgent comfort because I badly needed one. ALSO??? IT'S ACTUALLY LEE ACTIVATION DAY?!?! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE I LOVE YOU (COME HOME WHEN YOU COME TO GLOBAL, I'M SHARING THIS WITH YOU TOO READERS AND MUTUALS <3 <3 <3) I guess this is also short because I wasn't prepared (unplanned, the other one [NSFW] a little secret is the one who is planned LOL)

words - 1,458

pairing - hyperreal!lee x commandant (no specific genders mentioned, tho implied female)

warnings - none. comfort. super soft fluff with lee hyperreal. lowercase for the aesthetic™ I guess a bit suggestive?? because something happened to y'all the other night 👀

the first light of day cascades through your windows and lands on your outstretched hand.

as the outside world began its usual morning routine — the sound of machines clanking, chattering as the white noise, daylight dancing on the palm of your hand — you should wake up. a long, long list of things to do is waiting for you. Lucia and Liv could be in the maintenance room and you're needed for more paper works. but you don't — all you could think about was the warmth of the occupied space beside you, intertwined with you under the sheets.

Lee is here. Lee's sleeping beside you.

he's on his side, sleeping soundly, as one hand grasped yours, the other draped on your bare hips. both of your legs are tangled, your body nearly leaning onto him. his usual stoic face was relaxed, an expression you rarely see during the war. while the battlefield may have scorned his appearance, only moments like this would allow you to see Lee drop his guard down and show his human side.

propping a hand to support your head, you couldn't help but look at your sleeping lover. you've always known Lee has been so handsome; even when he had his Entropy frame, humans or constructs would approach him and ask for his number. but you couldn't help but laugh at that memory. this man is yours; unfortunate to them, but he's the one who is part of Gray Raven and the one who owns your heart.

was this the first time Lee was with you in bed? you usually see him after you wake up, preparing your morning coffee, the papers on your desk arranged accordingly. right now, he's actually beside you.

pride and love well up in your chest. although he may have given up his humanity years ago, you couldn't help but think about how you've learned to adore him. unclasping from his hand, you lightly touched his face.

tracing his face. from the blonde locks covering his closed eyes, to the shape of his jaw. from the chin, you drifted to the slope of his nose, the softness of his cheek. you tenderly traced the outline of his lips, which made you smile, as the events of last night replayed in your mind, the thought that made you blush and joyful. you may have studied all the lessons the F.O.S. taught you, but no one was there to write a book about Lee. and so, you couldn't help but want to touch every part of him that you could.

as you do, you couldn't help but think now; the war, the punishing virus, the ones you love. fear may be evident as it grows fondly like your endearment for Lee, but you solely believe in hope: in hope that one day, a world where you could roam with Lee and your team, and other people in Babylonia, without anything to destroy life anymore.

you leaned and kissed the corners of his mouth. one kiss turned into little kisses that littered across his jaw, up until the eyelids. your heart is heavy with endearment — you want to kiss Lee without hesitation, without a pause.

fortunately for you, Lee was already awake. the moment you started to touch him, he woke up from his slumber. but hearing you squeaking with joy, he let you have your moment. until you started kissing him anywhere but his lips.

jolting up, he took your wrist and flipped you over: you are under him, wrists lightly held above your head. “good morning, commandant.” said Lee, the raspy, morning voice making you smile with pleasure.

“good morning,” you replied, voice scratchy, “I think you made me lose my voice. how am I supposed to talk to the council now?”

“mm, that's not my fault.” he leaned down to nuzzle your exposed neck, breath tickling your shoulders, “I can tell them to reschedule. you need the rest after all.”

“still your fault. I still have so much to do.”

“why don't you do it then?”

you sighed, playfully rolling your eyes, “a certain someone made me lose the ability to walk.”

Lee lifted his head to reveal a smirk that made you want to wipe off of his face. “oh, really? that's unfortunate. would you tell me who it is?”

He let your hands go, still caging you in between him. deciding to play along with his game, you wrap your arms around his neck, laughing. “mm, well, he's good-looking. definitely an eye candy.”

“mhm, and?”

“he has blonde hair. a cute guy.”

“I think I get the image. what else?”

“a strange guy. he's also really shy but somehow switches personalities when there's no one else around.”

“really? that is a strange guy. I think you should stay away from him.”

“ah, I should, but that's a shame.” you mirrored his grin, “after all, he just told me that I should stay a little longer.”

a faint blush dusted his cheeks. he leaned down, lips closer to yours, that you could feel the thrumming of his heartbeat. “mm...if I told you to stay a little longer, would you?”

you pulled him closer, his body now touching on top of yours. two hearts now mirroring each other's beats. “I would,” you whispered, turning to kiss wherever your lips could reach, “I would stay with you.”

you wish you would. you wish it would stay forever like this: on a bed on a work morning, skipping whatever the hell was out for the both of you. for a split second, the image you had earlier reappeared in your thoughts: a white gown, a floral arc, an aisle, and the man in a suit waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

such thoughts shouldn't happen, but your heart, oh. you could never imagine the future without a Lee — Morian — in it.

“I love you, Lee.”

the three magic words that you've always wanted to tell him all the time. Lee didn't answer. instead, he nuzzles the warmth of your cheek. then the other. aiding him in his ministrations, your fingers tangle themselves in the softness of his hair. the shuffling of the blanket, the tangling of your legs. he moves downward now; kissing the edge of your jaw, to the crook of your neck, the dip of your clavicle. he looks at you, a twinkle in his eye as he kissed the back of your hand, to the inside of your palm.

he straddles you by the hips. you remember a construct's body may be different from that of a regular human, but to see the outlines of his torse, a transparent, glowing blue light from his spine, only made you look back at him with awe. you trace the outline, to which he holds your hand fondly.

“I've always seen you like a god.” Lee confesses. as he held your hand to his chest (his heart was beating erratically now), he spoke more of his feelings. “you have always been too kind to me, even though I can be brash and apathetic. you only show me mercy, and I don't even know how to repay you.”

“being alive and being here is enough for me.” you whispered, the pal of your hand flat against his erratic heart, “I can't imagine a life without Lee. without Morian.”

You felt his heart skip. He only chuckles, “I can't get enough of you saying my name. it feels...unusual.”

“I love you, Morian.”

He exhales. Taking your hand and kissing the palm of it once more, before looking at you with his tender cerulean irises, he whispers.

“I love you more, [Y/N].”

no one is alone here now. only two lovers, laughing under the sheets, incessant touches here and there, that only they can share with one another.

“w-wait!” you exclaimed, prying Lee away from you for a moment, “I forgot to give you something.”

Lee cocked his head, “what?”

you pecked his lips, grinning, “happy birthday, Lee.”

“really? that's it?” he laughs, holding your hips, “thank you, [Y/N].”

“I have a gift for you.”

“oh? what is it?”

excitingly rolling to your side of the bed, you pulled out a ribbon. looking at Lee, you carefully place the ribbon on top of your head. Lee's eyes darken with an expression you're now slowly getting used to.

“I'm your present.”

“...how am I supposed to open my present if they're already open?”

You wink, legs shyly opening. “there's more to come.”

and so, that was how your day goes, as the day bleeds into the nighttime. Lee doesn't know though, the real present that sits on your drawer, waiting for the right time to be opened.

comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated!! please don't copy or plagiarize my work!

[baby-alien11]

Could you do a headcanon with Ethan Landry and Carpenter!reader (I love love ur fics btw)

hiii, thank you so much for the love

I hope you like how I interpretate your idea, for this I wanted to do it with gf ethan because when you sent the idea my mind started to flow with reader reaction during the act three

credits to CZsWorld and his video of 156 Things You Missed on Scream VI because it helped me to write a part of the shrine

being a Carpenter and dating Ethan Landry

Since your older sister left the house due to a fight with your mom, you and Tara stayed together

Due to Tara being the oldest by a year, she was the one that took care of you when your mom was on a work trip

Like the one that changed everyone lives with the return of ghostface

That night while you and Tara were preparing dinner, she answered a call that seemed innocent and some prank at the beggining, but the moment it turned threatening, Tara instructed you to run towards the second floor and call the police

Even if you wanted to stay with her, she was quick to push you to the second floor

While you were in there calling the police, you cried hearing how your sister was being attacked, finally getting down the moment you heard the police on the first floor

During the whole night at the hospital, you spend it answering the police questions and waiting in Tara's room unable to sleep

The arrive of Sam along with her boyfriend was a relief to you because having your older sister meant someone to take care of both of you

But the killings didn't stopped, ending in loosing Wes, sheriff Judy and Dewey; and you, Tara and Richie were attacked at the hospital, leaving you with a medium scar in your thigh and a small one in your back

Deciding that leaving the city was the best for yours and Tara security, Sam took the decision to move to Modesto where she and Richie lived

Unfortunately, Tara didn't had her inhaler with her and the replace was at Amber's house

Hell broke in there because of the reveal of Amber as the murder when she shot Liv on the head, and then Richie when he stabbed Sam

So, after a long night that ended up in you, Sam, Tara, Chad, Mindy and Sidney and Gale, the OG's, injured, the killing spree was over

Since your mom ignored Sam after she told you and Tara the truth about her biological father, you felt bad for her because she did everything to protect both of you

So you started to hang out more with her to recover the lost time

After Tara and the twins finished high school, they decided to go to Blackmore University in New York, along with you since you mannaged to finish your last year online

Sam also went with the four of you to keep an eye on both of you, which Tara didn't like

While Tara decided that the best way to cope with the situation was forgetting what happened and try to live her life as a normal young adult, you got closer to Sam because you felt safe with her

Renting an apartment close to the university, the three of you manage to get a roommate named Quinn to share the costs of living there, who was the daughter of a detective

Meanwhile, Chad and Mindy stayed in the dorms

That's how you and Ethan met

He was a little shy and quiet, and that's what you liked of him, also how he was sweet, nice and caring with you

So, after three months of knowing each other, you and Ethan started a relationship

But before he had a small interrogative by Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad

Ethan was basically the perfect boyfriend

He listen to everything you said, took notice of small mannerisms you use to do, remember everything you liked, help you with your homework or school projects, almost every morning got your favourite drink from your favourite cafeteria or your favourite snacks, give you gifts on random days

Taking you to dates to dinner, to the movies, to the theater, etc

You trusted him enough to tell him what happened last year

When Halloween was around the corner and a frathernity was organizing a party where all the friend group planned to go, Sam didn't let you and Tara go

"What about we stay in your department or in my dorm and have a movie night?", Ethan suggested while walking around campus

"Oh, we're going to that party", you exclaimed

"I thought Sam forbidden you and Tara to go to the party"

"She did, but she also has her therapy session that night, so we are going to scape the apartment, and Quinn already said she will cover us, anyway, what are you going to use as a costume?"

"I was thinking about the cardboard knight costume of Murder Party"

"Sounds interesting! I might be using something similar so that way we can be complementing each other"

"I like that idea", Ethan smiled leaning over to give you a kiss that you acepted with a smile

After an emergency go out shopping with Tara, both of you got your costumes

The night of the party, the moment Sam anounced she was going, you and Tara were getting ready to leave for the party

While Tara dressed as a pirate, you chose to be a princess, with your outfit that consisted in a short pink dress with silver platform ankle boots and a tiara with your hair in small waves

A few minutes after Sam left the building, you and Tara practically run towards the campus which wasn't so far

Arriving at the frat house, you were quick to glue to Ethan and Chad while Tara stayed with her friends but still been supervised by Mindy and Anika

Things were normal for a few hours, except for the people dressed as ghostface, until Tara got into little trouble

"Hey, big guy, you're needed", Anika called, "You too little Carpenter"

Knowing it was about Tara, all of you ran towards the stairs where a drunk Tara was going to the second floor with a random guy

"Hey partner!", Chad called getting their attention, "Tara's good down here"

"Sorry, bro, I didn't catch that", the random guy said

"Yeah, you did", Chad laughed sarcastically

"Tara, what if we go to get some shots", you tried to convince her to stay, "A fun contest between sisters"

"Chad, Y/N, it's fine", Tara said getting down from some stairs, "I want to"

"No, you don't", you continue to try, "Just stay here with us, please"

"Yeah, see, Chad?", the creepy guy intervined, "She wants to, Y/N can come too, to have more fun"

"Don't talk to her", Ethan intervined steping closer to you

Taking Tara by the arm with strength causing her to fall at what Chad was quick to pull him to the first floor and start a small fight, while you kneeled next to Tara to help her

Things started to get violent, until Sam arrived tasing the creepy guy in the balls leaving him in the floor, but Tara wasn't happy to see her sister there, so she was quick to leave the party with Sam and the rest of you following close

"Tara, will you stop?", Sam demanded walking behind her

"I cannot believe you did that! You embarrased me", Tara yelled

"That guy was a dick", Sam yelled in response, "He was gonna take advantage of you"

"So?"

"You did not say that!", you intervined getting closer to them

"So?"

"If I want to hook up with an asshole, that's my decision! It's my decision", Tara exclaimed, "It's not about you! You're out of mine and Y/N lives for five years, and then you can't leave us alone for five minutes"

"Hey! I'm happy to have Sam around us", you said standing by their side

"Because you're not dealing with what happened to us, Y/N has gone with me sometimes with my therapist to talk about it, have you even gone to see the counselor once?"

"No, I'm not going to"

"Why not?", Sam asked

"Because I'm uninterested in living in the past like you are"

"What's that supposed to mean?", Sam questioned a little shocked

"Guys, come on", Chad tried to stop the discussion but it didn't work

"It means I'm not gonna let what happened to us for three days define the rest of my life", Tara explained

"So you're just gonna pretend it never happened", Sam concluded

"What are you doing here, Sam? In New York", Tara sighed, "You're working two shitty jobs to help with rent, whatever, but what's your plan? I know what I'm gonna do, okay? Because I'm gonna keep going to college, I'm gonna get my degree, and I'm gonna live my life"

"I was the one who told Sam about our plans to move here", you revealed surprising her, "And convinced her to come with us"

"Why did you do that?", Tara questioned

"Because I feel safer with her around", you exclaimed

"Are you fucking serious?", Tara yelled, "She is here breathing in our necks because of you?"

"Exactly", you responded in the same way, "You're welcome"

"I'm just trying to look out for you", Sam spoke looking at the both of you

"I know you are", Tara sighed more calmed, "You can't do it for the rest of my life, though, you have to let me go, you have to let us go"

But before Sam could say anything, a group of random girls throw a drink towards her accusing her to be a murderer

Arriving at the apartment Tara was quick to enter her room while you did the same to change into your pajamas that consisted in an oversized shirt and biker shorts and to return to the living room where the rest was and sit with Ethan in the one-person couch

Watching the news, they anounced that there was a multiple murder that night alerting everyone because ghostsface masks were involved

Of course the instant reaction of Sam towards that was to you and Tara to pack your things to move, but of course both of you refused

Getting a call from detective Bailey, Sam started to make her way to the police station, at what you and Tara decided to follow her

But Ghostface apeared threatening to kill the three of you, ending up in a tense scene in the bodega close to the apartment, fortunately getting alive from there

So, after being in the police station all night, meeting Kirby Reed and knowing by Gale that Sidney decided to not intervined and go away, which the three of you understand

After changing clothes and being a little more calmed and reuniting with the others, all of you decided to have a little reunion to discuss the situation

"Okay, nerds, listen up!", Mindy started with her monologue, "As terrifying as this all is, I’m actually glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time, the way I see it, someone is out making a sequel to the requel?"

"What's a requel?", Anika asked

"You'are beautiful sweetie, let's hold questions to the end", Mindy responded

"Stab 1 took place in Woodsboro, Stab 2 took place in college", Sam reminded

"So the killer is trying to copy the movies?", Tara suggested

"That is one posibility", Mindy nodded, "Heroes now in college, check, suspicious new characters brought into to add to the suspect list and our body count, check, check and check"

"I don't like this", Ethan murmured at what you sitting by his side took his hand in yours

"But it can't be just about Stab 2"

"Why not?", Tara frowned at Mindy comment

"It make sense if this just a sequel, but we are not in a sequel, because no one does sequels anymore, we're in a franchise!", Mindy exclaimed, "And there are certain rules to in a continuing franchise, rule one: everything is bigger than last time, bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count, longer chasings, shoot outs, beheadings, you've got to duplicate everything to make people keep coming back; rule two: whatever happen last time expect the opposite, franchises only survive by suberting expectations, if the killers last time were whiny snowflake film nerds with Letterboxd accounts instead of personalities, you can bet the opposite will be though here; and rule three: no one is safe, legacy characters are expandable at this point, usually brought back only to be killed of in some cheap bit of nostalgia, it's not looking too good for Gale and Kirby, and that's not even the worst part"

"This is the part were she tells us the worst part", Chad said writting in his notebook

"The worst part is franchises are just continuing episodic stallments designed to boost an IP, which means, main characters are completely expandable too, Laurie Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Sally Hardessy, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, even Luke Skywalker, all died so their franchises could live on, that means it's not just us friend group, any of us could go at anytime, specially Sam, Tara and Y/N"

"Wait, wait, wait", Ethan spoke, "Any of us? Am I in the friend group?Am I like one of the targets? Am I gonna die a virgin?"

"You're not a virgin", you exclaimed turning to look him while frowning, "And we both know it"

"That was a weird and gross overshare", Mindy interrupted, "But that bring us to our current suspects, Ethan, the shy dorky guy who no one suspects because he's so shy and dorky"

"Wait, why am I on the suspect list? Because I randomly Chad's roommate and Y/N and I are dating?"

"Rommate lotteries can be juked, you could've fix it to be next to us, and that also applies to your relationship with Y/N; Quinn, the slutty roommate, a horror movie classic"

"Sex positive, but, thank you?"

"Hmm, how did you come up to live with Sam, Tara and Y/N?", Mindy asked

"I answered their add online"

"Okay, say no more, you already implicated yourself enough"

"It was an anonymous add, Mindy", Tara said, "And you know we vetted her, plus her dad is a cop"

"And that makes her more likely that she is the killer, because having a cop dad is a great cover, you don't remeber how this movies work, Tara?!

"Is she always like this?", Quinn asked at what Sam nodded

"And finally, Anika, never trust the love interest, that also goes to you, Y/N"

For the rest of the day, all of you tried to stay together or in pairs, untill the night were everyone will be having a sleepover at the appartment, but Ethan couldn't go because he had econ that night

Things started normal at first, until Danny, the cute neighboor and Sam's boyfriend airdroped a photo in which the scene of Quinn being stabbed by ghostface in her room followed by screams and hits inside her room, and then a creepy silence was enough to run towards her door

Hell was released when the dead body of Quinn was thrown out of the room towards the group landing on Anika

In a reflex move, Chad took Tara's hand who took you by your arm dragging the three of you to the entrance door to scape, but leaving the rest inside, but relazing that the rest were still inside the three of you tried to enter again but all of your keys were inside

The next morning, Ethan arrived at the scene instantly being interrogated by Chad about where he was last night, at what he said that he was at econ, just what he told you the day before

After everyone was more calmed, Gale lead the group to a old theater that now was a shrine dedicated to ghostface and the Stab franchise, from some posters to all of the ghostface robes, everything was there, except the masks

Coming out with a plan to catch ghostface in broad daylight and in a public space, you along with your sisters put yourselves as the bait while the others wait in the van where Kirby will be tracking the origin of the call

Unfortunately, the call was track down in the same appartment building where Gale lives, making the three of you to "steal" Wayne's police car and drive towards there, arriving when she was laying on the floor with life threatening injuries but alive

Another plan was made: catching ghostface in the shrine and traveling in group

Arriving at the subway, and due to the crowd station because of Halloween, the group got separated in two, with you, Sam, Tara, Chad and Danny in a train, and Mindy and Ethan waiting for the next one

Being the first ones to arrive at the shrine and leaving Danny outside, Tara and Chad went to the snack bar, while you stayed with Sam, trying to contact Ethan or Mindy but none of them responded

Being there, you just took a seat in the steps of the stage watching how Sam took the old knife that once belonged to her father

"Should I grab a knife too?", you asked getting her attention

"Only for security", Sam nodded

Walking a little, you watched the collection until you stopped in front of a display where a draw of Richie's death was along with a knife covered in blood, so you opened it to take the knife and hide it in the back of your jeans

Things went down quickly when Sam recieved a call from detective Bailey warning about Kirby being ghostface due to being to affected by the Woodsboro 2011 masacre

Running to get Chad and Tara, they informed that ghostface was there and where attacked by him, so a persecution in the whole theater started, realizing that they were two of them when Chad was stabbed multiple times by them leaving him in the floor

Keeping running and dragging Tara, the three of you returned to the central part of the shrine only to being circled by the two ghostface at what Sam took some brick from the floor to defend yourselves

But the son-to-be fight was interrupted by a injured but alive Kirby who started shooting at the masked killers

When detective Bailey arrived, in a unexpected move, he shot Kirby while the two ghostfaces

"Great job, both of you", Wayne praised his two partners leaving the three of you shocked

"You?", Tara asked in shock

"Yeah, of course me", Wayne responded, "Frankly, I expected more from the three of you after what you did to us"

"What do you mean, 'us'?", Tara asked again

The moment you saw the face of one of the ghostface you felt like something broke inside of you, most exactly your heart

Sensing how you must be feeling, Sam was quick to hold one of your hands

"Mindy was right", Ethan laughed, "It was easy to juke the roommate lottery, all I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha literally named Chad, fuck it felt good to kill him! And Y/n, you were never part of the plan, but we kinda connected, so being in a relationship with you was even better for this"

"Fuck you", was the only thing that was able to come out of your mouth at that moment

"This was your grandmother's, Sam", Ethan continued pointing at the mask, "Nancy Loomis, really runs in the fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family...wait for it, my name's not Ethan Landry, is it, dad?"

"Well, that explains why I never met your parents", you commented with your arms crossed, "Wait a second, if you are father and son, that means Quinn was also part of your family, and most probably knew the twisted plan, and she was "killed" last night, or it was all fake, am I right?"

"I told you she has a great mind", Ethan murmured to his father while the other ghostface took their mask out

"Hey, roomies", Quinn sing softly, "You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"Yeah, because you died!", Tara exclaimed

"Kind of didn't, though", Quinn said, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of things"

"Yep, and I just made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one", Wayne explained like it was a normal thing, "Little fake blood, a prosthetic, you'd be amazed at what a grieving father can get away with"

"I got Stu Macher's mask", Quinn spoke now being at one side behind some displays, "He was my favorite"

"Nice, that's number three", Wayne continued refering to the masks, That's two, which leaves your father's, this is what we've been counting down to, Sam, I'm gonna need you to put it on"

"Fuck you!", Sam yelled throwing the mask away

That action made Ethan slash Sam's arm scaring you and Tara more

"What? What is this? You did this as a family?", Sam interrogated

"Hell yeah, bitch!", Quinn screamed getting closer to the three of you, "You should know better than anyone"

"They're still not getting it", Ethan giggled

"I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit those murders in Woodsboro", Sam said with desesperation, "It wasn't me!"

"We know that", Wayne spoke again, "Of course you didn't, you think this is based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? Come on, who do you think started the rumors about you in first place?"

"Do you know how easy it was to turn Sam from the hero of Woodsboro into the villain?", Quinn mocked, "How easy it is to convice the world to believe the worst in people rather than the best?"

"Because it's not enough to just kill someone these days", Ethan continued, "You have to assassinate their character first, so when dad here "discovers" your horribly mutilated bodies posed with Sam wearing her father's mask, he'll say some poor bastard read on the internet that you're the real ghostface and took matters into their own deluded hands"

"Exactly! That's why it's the perfect alibi", Wayne exclaimed, "All the best lies are based on the truth, and you're a killer, just like your father"

"No, I'm not!", Sam denied

"Yes, you are, you motherfucker!", Quinn yelled, "You killed our brother!"

"What are you talking about?", Sam questioned

"You said your brother died in a car accident", Tara reminded

"No, no no, you sweet, dumb thing", Ethan spoke again, "He died in Woodsboro at the hands of your bitch sister"

"Wait a second", you said finally realizing everything, "Curly and kinda light hair, light colored eyes, Richie was your son and sibling"

"Yeah", Wayne nodded

Slightly turning around, Sam recieved a quick stab near her chest by Ethan, which made the three of you to try to scape but again you were circled

"Now! It wasn't until I saw that photograph of what you'd actually done to him that I knew, that I knew you had to fucking die! You had to be punished! Along with anyone else who stands in our way", Wayne continued to yell

"There she is", Quinn murmured with her knife against Sam's throat noticing the look in her eyes, "There's the fucking killer"

"Great parenting job, by the way", Tara commented at what you snorted

"Shut your whore fucking mouth!", Quinn screamed pushing the three of you to the center of the space

"Have I been a perfect dad? No", Wayne proceeded, "Have I maybe overindulged Richie's love of these little movies? Yeah, maybe, for me, they're just a little dark, but...Richie really loved them, he loved them! He even made a few of his own"

In the screen on the scenary, one of Richie's home made movies was playing while Wayne started to climb the stairs

"There's a very special bond between a father and his first son"

Hearing that phrase, you turn your head to look at your psycho boyfriend with pity at what he shared a look with you that demostrated a little bit of pain, but he hide it quickly pointing his knife at you, making you return your attention to the stage

"Which is why I helped him build this collection"

"This was all his?", Sam asked

"Yes, he's a very passionate collector, and he inspired others, we had to kill those two wannabe film students because, well, we had to do kill you first, Sam, I put the theater in their name, then good old detective Bailey would've just stumble on it, but I didn't have to because, by golly, that Gale Weathers is one hell of a journalist, I built a tribute to my son, which is why this is where you have to die, Sam, surrounded by the things he loved the most"

"What happens next? After you're done with us you just disappear?"

"No! We got to hurry over the hospital and make sure Mindy and Gale don't pull through, because everybody dies, Sam! Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son suffers and dies, now put on the mask"

"He was so pathetic", Sam sighed

"That's not true", Wayne suttered

"Yeah, your son, he was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing"

"He was a strong, virile young man", Wayne insisted slightly trembling

"He was a limp-dick little fuck who cried before I slit his throat"

With that last phrase, hell got loose because Quinn angry for hearing those words of her late brother loose control running towards the three of you which caused to you and Tara to hit her with the blocks, running towards a stairs thanks to a distraction by a very alive Kirby who shoot at Wayne

Stopping for a second, you turn to look at Sam stabbing Ethan repeatedly in the chest and shoulder, before following Tara on the stairs to the second floor, at what you were quick to grab your knife from your jeans

Once Sam was by your side, the three of you started to walk in the little to no space being careful to not fall

Until a bullet hit where you were passing, causing you to almost fall if it wasn't for your sisters holding your hands

"Guys, I'm sliping", you said with desesperation

"We got you", Tara tried to reassure you

"It's okay", Sam continued

But even with both strenghts combined you were still sliping because the blood on their hands, even worse when Ethan was under you waving his knife at your feet

"Come here so we can play like we like to, Y/N", Ethan mocked

"Fucking psycho!", you yelled, "And I'm breaking up with you!"

"Fuck you! You guys are so fucked now"

Noticing how Quinn with her face all bloody and a few teeths gone was aproaching the three of you, Tara was quick to give a solution

"Sam, we have to let her go"

"No", Sam denied

"Sam, please", you pleaded understanding the plan, "It's the only way, please, let me go"

"We have to let her go"

Trusting in both of you and making sure you got your knife in your hand, Sam and Tara let go your hands to take care of Quinn

Falling to the first floor, you landed in front of Ethan who was quick to stab you in the stomach

"Gotcha!", Ethan smiled with pure evil

Taking advantage of his open mouth to return the stab in his throat leaving him surprised by that action, but still looking you in the eyes

"At least you won't die a virgin, my love", you said in a low voice twisting the knife, "By the way, this is the knife that killed your brother"

With that last sentence you pulled the knife feeling the blood combined with saliva splashed in your face and upper body from your psycho now ex boyfriend at the same time his body fell on the ground

Almost a few seconds later of your first kill, a gunshot along with screams sounded on the shrine, next to the scene of Sam and Wayne falling into a glass display

Thankfuly you and Tara managed to wake her up and make a plan to finish the situation

So while Sam will be using her father's robe and mask to kill him, you and Tara will be doing an old fashioned ghostface call from her phone

Fortunately, Wayne fell into the trap, ending in Sam stabing him multiple times, finishing him with a stab on the eye

After a jumpscare of Ethan which ended in Kirby trowing a TV in his head to kill him, Danny arriving with the police and the core five reunited and alive, hell was over

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

"its ok,i'm here" for cats

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

Tugger woke up gasping, surrounded by darkness save for one bright spot. Mistoffelees was crouched in front of him, paws holding the sides of his face with a tenderness that the Maine Coon wasn’t too sure he deserved. Instead of exploring that thought (though he tabled it for another day, all the personal growth and all meant he had to actually discuss those thoughts instead of bottling them up), Tugger fell forward, head coming to rest on Mistoffelees’ soft shoulder. Immediately, the magician began to gently run his fingers through Tugger’s mane, chasing away the feeling of scraggly, sharp claws and yellow eyes peering out from the darkness.

Tugger took a steadying breath, pressing closer into the fur. He was okay. As long as Mistoffelees was with him, he was okay.

[tending-the-hearth]

if you can, could you write a short about echo talking to the batch about the rest of domino? could be pre-show or post-show, maybe when crosshair's joined back up with the batch

they are very important to me, thank you anon 😌

*insert the obligatory "echo finds hevy's medal on the marauder" fic*

Kashyyyk had been a welcome respite after the recovery of Cody and Crosshair from the Empire.

Gungi had been more than excited to welcome his friends back, greeting Omega with a joyful hug that had the blonde giggling brightly as she returned the embrace. The rest of the Batch watched the interaction warmly, glad to see their youngest member being so happy upon reuniting with the young Jedi.

Rex had joined the Batch after Cody and Crosshair’s rescue, unable to part himself from his brother’s side.

After a day of quiet recovery on the forest planet, Echo set himself to organizing the crates that had been languishing in the Marauder’s storage hold, completely untouched over the past months of racing around the galaxy.

Distantly, he could hear Omega begging Crosshair to help her with her bow. He chuckled to himself, knowing that his little sister had been waiting for the day when she could get tutelage from their marksman brother. Digging through one of the messy crates, Echo flinched as his hand was poked by something cool, and he frowned. Grasping the object, he pulled it out into the light, and immediately froze as he recognized it.

“Oh…”

The gold sunburst glinted in the afternoon light that streamed through the Marauder’s open hatch, the green and blue ribbon faded, but still holding together.

Echo knew 99 still had the medal, but he hadn’t known what happened to it after his older brother’s death. Thinking it back over, it made sense for 99 to have given it to his own batch.

“Echo! Find anything interesting?”

The ARC was startled out of his musings by the sound of Wrecker’s shout, and he stood, holding the medal tightly in his hands as he exited the Havoc Marauder.

Rex looked up from where he was speaking with Cody, immediately noting a difference in Echo’s mannerisms.

“Vod’ika?”

Echo simply held up the medal, a small, sad smile on his face. “I haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”

Hunter’s face was bittersweet. “It was 99’s.” He approached Echo, reaching out to brush his fingers across the medal. “He gave it to us when we went off on our first mission.”

“That looks like your medal, Ey’ika.” Rex prodded gently, making Echo huff out a laugh. Of course his older brother knew something else was going on. “From when you passed the test.”

“You’ve got a medal?” Omega asked excitedly, moving around Hunter to get a peek at the object.

Echo nodded, walking to where Crosshair and Tech were seated, quietly enjoying each other’s company. He sat himself beside his grey-haired brother, taking comfort from how Crosshair didn’t tense up like he did when Hunter or Wrecker sat beside him. Rex sat on Echo’s other side, a quiet pillar of comfort.

“99 and I got our medals at the same time.” Echo began to explain, voice quiet. “His was given to him by a clone named Hevy.”

Tech cocked his head. “99 did mention it was a gift from a friend.”

“You knew the guy who gave this to 99?�� Wrecker asked.

It was only Rex’s presence and Cody’s silent support from where he was sitting opposite them that kept Echo from falling apart then and there, the pain of thinking about his Domino squad often too much to bear.

“Hevy was my brother.” He said after letting out a breath. “He was the oldest of our batch, and a kriffing asshole half the time, and an overprotective mother tooka the other half of the time. He was selfless, and stupid, and everything 99 wanted him to be.” Rex shifted, wrapping an arm around Echo’s shoulders as he spoke. “Then there was Cutup. He was almost as bad as Hevy when it came to smothering us after training. He was always worried we weren’t eating enough, and when he wasn’t smothering us, he was trying to prank anyone who looked at our squad wrong.”

“Sounds like we’d get along with them.” Hunter said with a small grin.

Cody’s eyes suddenly widened with horror. “Can you imagine.”

Echo let out a loud laugh. “Oh, Hev and Cut would have loved you guys.” His face grew a touch sadder, and he leaned more into Rex, who tightened the arm he had around his shoulders. “Then there was Fives and I. Fives was older by literal seconds, but he still held it over me every chance he got.” He couldn’t bring himself to talk more about his twin, and instead pushed on, fighting to keep himself from crying. “Finally… there was Droidbait. He was the baby of the squad, and never did anything wrong in his life.”

“Didn’t you and Fives tell the story of how Droidbait started a food fight during your last day on Kamino?” Rex asked, suspicion in his voice.

Echo raised an eyebrow at his former captain. “Again, ‘Bait never did anything wrong in his life. Ever.”

Beside him, as he had been speaking, Crosshair’s posture had grown more and more relaxed until he was leaning into Echo, arms pressed together as he listened.

“I remember that.” The marksman said, voice quiet and hesitant. Echo immediately glanced at Hunter, who was obviously holding back a small grin at the sound of their brother’s voice.

“I believe Wrecker was enthusiastically involved in widening the range of that chaos.” Tech supplied helpfully.

Echo snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised. ‘Bait was especially excited at how extreme it went so quickly.” The rest of the clones laughed, and Wrecker’s face was gleeful as he remembered that specific day, tucked at a corner table with his own batch, watching as a group of newly graduated clones cackled and teased one another.

Echo was surprised to find how easily the stories of his brothers fell from his mouth. Instead of the pang of heartbreak over his lost, there was nothing but warmth that filled him, as though Domino was sitting around him, laughing along with the stories.

Omega scooted closer, eyes bright as she asked for more stories, and Echo was only happy to oblige, grinning as Crosshair’s snarky comments interrupted him ever now and again.

It wasn’t the same, but Echo was content in knowing that he could pass on his brothers’ stories and memories.

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

after - part thirty-one

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

you keep going. you have to keep going.

a/n: so I haven’t been on here in a hot second BUT I’ve been writing this story like a crazy person, lots more to come, thanks for all the love 🤍

word count: 7.2k

warnings: lil smut for your saturday, big emotions, ellie and liv forever 🤍

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

Joel knows that he’s dreaming.

He hasn’t let himself dream for a long time now. Every night, he’s feigned sleep, while you insist on taking watch, Ellie even offering herself up a few hours at a time. It’s partially a conscious decision, partially not. There are nights when he wants sleep, wants to drift off just for a few hours, but his body won’t let him. He lays there with his eyes shut, trying to keep his memories at bay, but it always takes more effort than he expects, and before he knows it, the sun is rising once again.

But right now? Definitely dreaming.

It’s a strange sensation, being conscious of a dream while you’re in it. But it’s the best dream he’s had in years, so he begs his body to stay asleep a while longer, just so he can see how this plays out.

He’s home. Back in Austin, not your shared apartment in Boston, but his old house, his old bedroom. More specifically, sprawled on his bed, mid-morning light filtering through the curtains. The mattress feels so real beneath him, the springs creaking as he moves, but it’s only a backdrop to what’s really happening.

You, wrapped in his arms, back pressed to his chest. He swears he can feel how sweat-slick your skin is, smell the scent of your hair, hear the rapid thunk of your heart beneath his palms. He’s buried in your body, deep as he can go, your back arching with the force of him, whines falling from your lips as you beg him for more.

“Please, Joel,” you murmur, one hand reaching back to fist the hair at the back of his head. “Oh my god, please, I’m—”

Never one to deny you, waking or asleep, he lets one hand drop, skimming the curve of your stomach and finding your clit with ease. You keen as he draws little circles, burying his face in your neck, kissing at your throat.

“C’mon, baby,” he rasps, teeth scraping your jaw. “Lemme feel it, lemme—”

A crashing sound rings through his ears, making his whole body jolt, and the dream vanishes, his eyes shooting open.

“Fuck!” you curse, and Joel turns to see you crouched near the old desk in the corner of the watchtower. One of the drawers has fallen to the floor — obviously the source of the noise — and you’re trying to scoop the contents back in; maps and notebooks and random photographs. Joel groans as he sits up straight, lifting his body off the mattress, and you look at him over your shoulder, brows shooting up to your hairline. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” The drawer literally collapses in your hands and Joel has to stifle his laugh as he gets to his feet. You groan at the mess on the floor, head dropping back on your shoulders.

“S’okay,” he tells you, reaching for your arm and pulling you up to stand. Your stance is sure now, but it’s old habit for him to support you, though your leg has healed. You’ve been in the tower for two and a half weeks now; the first two had you laid up in one of the mattresses, Joel and Ellie both refusing to let you up unless it was absolutely necessary. Your leg is still wrapped in a bandage — fresh ones from the first aid kit you found in the tower — but there’s no blood bloomed through, and it looked almost completely healed when Joel checked it last night. You’re out of the woods, and he knows you need to get going soon. You’re antsy, and he can see it. He’s just as bad.

You sigh into his grip, reaching up to drape your arms around his neck. “But you were sleeping,” you say with emphasis, and he knows you’ve been watching him just as much as he’s been watching you. “I didn’t want to wake you at all.”

Joel shakes his head, leaning forward to tuck his nose into your neck, lips grazing your jaw. “Slept enough, baby,” he murmurs, pulling you close to him. “Just interrupted a dream I was havin’.”

“A dream?” you repeat, and he hums, grabbing your hips and pulling yours flush with his. He’s hard, pressing against the zipper of his jeans, his whole body nearly shaking with need. Your lips part softly, a quiet inhale that makes him even harder. “Was it a good dream?”

“Lemme show you,” he replies, reaching for the button on your jeans. “Where’s the kid?” 

“Downstairs,” you tell him, tilting your head to the door. “Told her to stay down there, to let you sleep.”

“Well, I’m done sleepin’, baby,” he grits as he unzips your fly. He brings his hand to his mouth, sucks two fingers past his lips, then slips them down the front of your pants, right past the band of your underwear. “Fuck, when’s the last time I touched you like this, huh?”

He watches your face, the way your bottom lip quivers, and right when he thinks you’re actually going to answer, he pushes his hand lower, curls his fingers up and into you. You squeak, nearly collapsing in his arms, and Joel can’t help the satisfaction that roils through him.

You clench around his fingers as he pushes deeper and your knees waver, your hands clinging to his shoulders. “Fuck,” you curse again, moaning when he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer, getting a better angle. “We need to be—” You cut yourself off, eyes rolling back when he finds that spot, the tips of his fingers rubbing circles. “Faster, Joel.”

“Faster, huh?” he almost taunts, but gives you what you ask for. “You want it just like this, huh? Y’know, I was dreamin’ we were back home, that I was fucking you in our bed. You were beggin’ me so pretty.”

“Please,” you gasp, your hand fisting the front of his flannel, pulling him close enough to make your noses brush. “Fuck me, please, baby.”

You whine when he drags his fingers from you, but he doesn’t waste any time, turning you around and pushing you against the table in the middle of the room. You plant your hands, bending over the edge as he shoves your pants down, just enough to see the shine of slick against the inside of your thighs, the evidence you need this just as badly as he does. He doesn’t have time to strip you down completely, but one of these days, he’ll—

“Joel.”

He frees himself from his jeans, his cock aching and leaking as he kicks your legs wide and lines himself up. Your whole body stutters as he drags himself along your heat, coating himself with your wetness. His other hand finds your hip, digging his fingers in hard. You call his name again, your voice a rasp in the air, and he pushes into you, breathy exhales filling the space between you as he fills you to the hilt. Just as fucking tight as he remembers, just as hot and perfect and…you.

The need and the desperation get the better of him, kicking his pace into high gear the instant he’s buried to the hilt. He can feel the shift, gripping both your hips, and your hands cover his, keeping him in place. Your head turns slightly, eyes meeting his, big and wide and just as full of lust as he feels. 

He gets you impossibly closer, keeping his hips tight to your ass and thrusting so hard your boots nearly lift off the ground. It pulls the most delicious sound from your mouth, your hand shooting back to dig your nails into his ass. “Jesus Christ.”

Joel hauls you up, banding one arm under your chest, his lips at your ear. “Yeah, baby? Tell me how good it feels.”

“So fucking good,” you babble, squeezing his ass, canting your hips back into him, driving him deeper. “Missed you — ah! — touching me like…like this.”

He had more words, more dirty things to murmur in your ear, but you take his mouth for your own, squeaking against his lips when he moves his other hand between your legs, thumbing at your clit. You clench around him, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip so hard he’s sure you’ll draw blood, confirmed when he tastes iron a second later. But he doesn’t care, too engrossed in the way you twitch in his arms, thighs quaking around his hand, the breathy moans that fall out of you. 

How is it possible to miss someone who’s been right beside you the entire time?

It hits him like a ton of bricks as he works you through your orgasm, his movements sharper, trying to draw out your pleasure as much as he can. Your body goes lax, your lips still kissing his, both of your mouths smeared with his blood, but Joel doesn’t care.

His own body goes tight, pleasure creeping up his spine, slithering through his aching bones. The pain in his chest hasn’t made an appearance since you found the watchtower, and in this moment, he doesn’t even remember what it felt like, too preoccupied with how good you feel, your body wringing pleasure from his the same way he did to you.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see his face, darting between his bloody lip and his eyes and back again. You kiss him again, sucking his bottom lip between your own, laving your tongue along the curve. His hips snap against your ass, that peak growing closer and closer with every touch you offer. He sees the recognition in your eyes, the spark of knowledge as you tighten your grip on him.

“Baby,” you murmur, your gaze softening, the corner of your lip curling up as his pace stutters. You cover his hands with your own, squeezing your fingers around his wrists, pushing your body back into his. “You fuck me so good, love me so good.” You steal another kiss. “Love you so goddamned much.”

His brow furrows, hands tightening on you, fingers curling against your ribs. He growls into your mouth, nerves set alight, the feeling barrelling up and down and side to side, making his toes numb in his boots. He cums with a shout, one you catch with your own lips as he staggers, nearly losing his grip on you as he spills himself deep. It makes you hum, your grip going tighter, and now it’s you holding him upright, your lips all over his cheek, one hand lifting to brush through his hair.

Once he’s caught his breath, you let out a little breathy giggle, your arms still around each other. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat as he slips out of you. “I just…needed that.”

You reach up, running your thumb over where you bit his lip. “You definitely don’t need to apologize for that, Joel. I’m sorry for biting you so hard.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “I liked it.”

As you clean each other up, finding spare rags to clean the mess between your legs, wetting another to dab at the blood on Joel’s lip, he forgets, just for a moment. Forgets about the world outside, the terror and the violence that seem to follow you all around. For a moment, you’re just two people in love, as desperate for each other now as you were when you first met twenty-two years ago. You’re just…you.

You pull your jeans back up, inspecting your bandage after you do. Joel steps close to you. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, a relaxed smile on your face. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw you look like that — relaxed.

As you straighten, he pulls you back into the circle of his arms, fitting his arms around your shoulders. Your hands slip under his flannel, palms flat against his skin. He tugs at your hair, lifting your face until his nose brushes yours. Your lips part, words on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

“I love you,” he whispers, well aware that his hands are shaking. You nudge your nose against his, pulling him closer. He drops his jaw, capturing your lips again, but softly this time. He adjusts his grip, hands lifting to cup your face, thumb swiping across your cheek. The cut on your face has also healed, a thin scar left behind. Joel traces it as you deepen the kiss, your tongue touching his.

Ellie clears her throat in the doorway and you both jump apart, you covering your face with your hand while Joel braces his hands on his hips, staring at the floor. She doesn’t say anything at first, stepping into the tower and tossing her gun onto the table in the middle — the table he’d just—

“What happened to your mouth?” she asks suddenly, brow furrowing at Joel. His head snaps up, brows rising.

“Huh?”

“Your lip is bleeding.”

“Oh.” He lifts his hand to his mouth, feeling his cheeks heat. “Uh—”

You stifle a laugh, turning away with a guilty look on your face, finding something in the corner of the room infinitely more interesting.

The kid’s eyes dart between the two of you, and then she makes a face. “Gross.”

+

One month later, on the outskirts of Cody, Wyoming…

You’re all dragging your heels. 

Ellie’s asleep on her feet, and Joel is so overtired that his senses are in overdrive. You can see it in the way his head swivels on his neck, eyes flitting every direction, coasting over where you’re stood on his bad side, bat over your shoulder, gun in hand. He’s still carting the rifle, knife at his hip, and Ellie has her not-so-secret gun. You feel better knowing she’s armed and feel shitty knowing how fucked up that thought process is.

Since you left the tower, winter has caught up with you. The snow came and left, then came and stuck, and it was very quickly apparent that the jackets you’d carried with you from Boston weren’t going to cut it. The chill in your bones had you detouring through neighbourhoods, reminiscent of your smuggling days, picking through houses over the remnants of people’s lives. You make Ellie and Joel keep watch most of the time, wanting to keep them safe from whatever horrors might be lurking behind closed doors.

You get lucky. You find a thick leather coat for Joel, wool-lined and worn in. For Ellie, what you think might have been a boy’s winter jacket, but it’s heavy enough to keep her warm and fits her fine. For you, one of those ridiculously patterned flannel-sherpa monstrosities you’re sure your mother had six of back in the nineties. It’s almost not warm enough, but you manage to find a few more layers to wear underneath and it works. 

You find a few hats — one of which you have to all but force onto Ellie’s head — and leather gloves to match Joel’s jacket. It’s easy enough to find boots for you and Ellie, the tall, lace-up kind that hug your calves and keep the snow out. For Joel, every pair you find isn’t the right size, or the soles are worse off than the ones he’s been wearing. What you do find is duct tape, and he wraps his boots in it, waving you off when you try to help.

Part of you wishes you’d stayed in the watchtower. It wasn’t the perfect place — it got drafty as hell once the temperature started to drop — but you had a good vantage point. The supplies you found would have lasted a bit longer, and you could have gone back to Omaha to look for more. 

Part of you wanted to stay, but a bigger part wanted to go. Once your leg was healed, you just wanted to keep moving. Whatever this is, you want to see it through. You’ve lost too much since leaving Boston, you refuse to tuck your tail between your legs and just give it up. 

Another part, a part that’s small sometimes, and so big sometimes you think it might swallow you whole, that part doesn’t want any of this. It wants to find a place, somewhere safe, somewhere far from FEDRA and the Fireflies and the past you left behind, just for you. For you and for Joel and…

And for Ellie.

You can’t deny the protectiveness you feel for her. Right from that first night, you just had to keep her safe, had to keep her as whole as you possibly could in a world that wants the polar opposite. You look at her, remember what you’ve agreed to do, to just hand her over to the Fireflies. What will they do with her, what will they…?

Never mind your own feelings, but you’ve seen her and Joel lately, since you left Kansas City. Something’s changed, shifted. You know Joel will be the last person to admit it, but there’s a kinship, a kindness between them that didn’t exist before. He’s still your gruff old man, through and through, but his edges that were once soft only for you have smoothed out for her, too. It’s little things — passing a can of soup back and forth, Joel making sure she’s got a good grip on the warm metal before letting go — and the bigger ones too. When you first left the watchtower, shortly after the first snow, Ellie had nearly tumbled down the hill, but Joel had been closer than you, and he’d grabbed her before she could fall, hauling her back and onto steady feet, keeping her pressed to his chest until she caught her breath again.

You saw the flicker in his face when her arms wrapped around his middle, and the twinge in his expression when she let go, giving a shaky laugh and stepping away from him.

They’ve gotten closer, but Joel’s different on his own. He still has those pinched expressions when he thinks you’re not looking, looks of pain that he forces mild when he catches you looking. The closer you get to Cody, potentially to Tommy, the more antsy he gets. You know he’ll never admit it, but you know exactly what’s going on in his head. You’ve come all this way, and what if…

What if you don’t find Tommy?

Or worse, what if you do find him and—

No. You cut the thought short. You can’t let yourself think like that. No good will come of it.

You’ll find the Cody Tower. You’ll find Tommy and he’ll help you find the Fireflies, and this will all—

“Liv!”

You’ve only just reached the outskirts of the city. Wrapped in your own head, your mind going a million miles a minute, you didn’t realize you’d gotten close to the buildings, the flattened cityscape that looks like something out of an old Western. Joel grabs you from behind, clamping a hand over your mouth and wrenching you backwards, your boots scuffing against the pavement as he drags you, stifling your surprised noise when you see the sight before you.

Off in the distance, the control tower is plain as day. Your mind paints a taunting image of Tommy perched on the top platforms, speaking into a radio, talking to you and to Joel, telling you where he’s gone, what he’s doing. 

The town below is less taunting, more nightmare.

Clickers, everywhere. 

As far as your eye can see, wandering and twitching their way through the streets, tripping over abandoned cars and cracked hunks of pavement. The odd screech reaches your ears, sending chills down your spine. You let Joel drag you back, your body going willingly, pushing yourself back into his arms as you go. Ellie is frozen in place as you pass, her eyes glued to the sight before you, and you grab the hood of her coat as you pass, pulling her along with you.

Joel doesn’t release you until you’re back over the hill you’d just crested, until you’re out of earshot, out of sight. Your heart is racing, thumping against your ribs, and you get your bearings, letting go of Joel enough to grab his hand and Ellie’s, pulling them off the road and into the forest lining the road.

But Joel doesn’t move.

He’s still as a statue in the middle of the road, the hill stretching below, a straight shot through Cody. Even at a further distance now, you can hear them, those awful noises, like some kind of demonic birdsong. Ellie grips your hand tightly and you put yourself between her and the town below. “Joel, we need to move,” you say, tugging on his wrist. Nothing. “Joel—”

“He was in Cody,” he murmurs, his voice nearly carried away on the wind that sweeps through, ruffling your hair and his, making goosebumps rise on your skin. “He was there. D’you think that he…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. The rifle falls from his grip, hanging against his shoulder, and his hand flies to his throat, boots sliding as his body tilts. He’s white as a fucking ghost. You pull your hand from Ellie’s, reaching for him. He grunts as you move in front of him, bearing his weight, trying to keep him upright.

“Liv—” Ellie starts, but you cut her off.

“Go to the trees,” you tell her, giving her a pointed look. “Go, and don’t move till I say, you hear me?”

She nods, her face nearly solemn, and heads for the tree line.

“Joel,” you call, and he gives you no response, his hands on your shoulders and his breath wheezing out of his chest. It’s coming fast, his entire body shaking with every inhale, every exhale. “Joel, honey, I’m right here.”

“What if he…” He trails off again, his eyes moving past you, back to the town. “Tommy…”

“Tommy’s alive,” you say, making your voice as stern as you can be, ignoring the panic rising in your own chest. “He’s alive and he sure as hell isn’t down there. We need to get someplace safe, okay? We need to figure out where to go next.”

“But he—”

You grab his chin in your hand, force his eyes on yours. “Your brother is a smart man, Joel, much as you hate to admit it. And he left Boston a long time ago. He wouldn’t have stuck around long enough to get caught up in something like that. He’s alive, and we’re going to find him. You hear me?”

His chest is still rising rapidly, his hands shaking as they move down to your biceps, squeezing so tight you feel it through your jacket and sweater. “I don’t know what…” He shakes his head, some of the colour returning to his cheeks. The wind howls and his eyes finally drop, pinched shut as he relaxes slightly into your grip, his breath starting to come a touch slower.

“I know,” you tell him, pressing your chest to his, hoping he’ll feel your even breaths, that his body will respond and try to match them. “I’ve had that thought more times than I care to admit. We have to believe he’s alive, Joel, and that we’ll find him. We will.”

His shoulders sag and he pulls you against him, his temple against your forehead as he exhales slowly. “We will.”

+

“We’re lost.”

“We’re not fuckin’ lost,” Joel grumbles, swinging his bag from his shoulder. He pulls out the map, shoves it in your direction, and you give Ellie a glare as you unfold it, the lines and dots instantly giving you more of a headache than you already have.

“Really?” she quips, and you let your eyes flutter shut, pushing the map back at Joel. “Then where the fuck are we?”

He gives you a pointed look, brow raised, but you ignore it, scrubbing your gloved hand over your face. It’s fucking cold. You feel like you haven’t slept in three days — realistically, you know that’s not completely true, but the little sleep you have gotten hasn’t been nearly enough, and the thrum in the back of your mind has been near constant. You’re burning out, desperate for some real food, water that hasn’t been hastily boiled over a campfire, and at least eighteen hours of sleep. Hell, even eight would do the trick.

You’ve been walking since sunrise. Almost three days past Cody. You walked through (past? You can’t be sure…) Yellowstone a day and a half in, and you’re all dragging each other along. The roads are hell, covered in snow, the blanket of white a welcome repaint to the landscape, but it helps hide the things that go bump in the night. Infected aren’t the only things you have to worry about in the mountains.

Joel furrows his brow at the map, yanking his gloves off to trace the path he’s after. You’ve been following the map, using whatever landmarks you can to find the next town. Joel mentioned Jackson, you thought maybe Yellowstone would have a camp of some sort — the park was big enough they could have put up some sort of outpost or camp when the outbreak came — but your path proved otherwise. Whatever had been set up in the park’s boundary was long gone.

There’s a marked path Joel’s been trying to follow, but the snow is not helpful. You think you’ve been sticking to it, but with every step, you feel more and more unsure. What if you’re going in the wrong direction? You trust Joel, you know he’s good for this stuff, that he wouldn’t risk it — risk you — if he wasn’t sure, but after his episode outside Cody, your worry for him has only grown stronger. 

But you have to keep going.

It’s Ellie, that spots the cabin off in the distance. Small, tucked behind a wooden fence you’d guess is about chest height. Smoke pours out of the chimney. The relief that floods you is tinged with wariness, but it’s the first sign of actual living human life since you left Kansas City, and part of you wants to grab onto it as tight as you can.

The other part knows you can’t be stupid about this. You have to be careful.

By the time you get close enough to scope the place out, night has nearly fallen, and you make camp just inside the trees, out of line of sight from the cabin, but still able to keep an eye out. Joel insists on taking the majority of watch, and you let him, honestly too tired to fight with him otherwise. The little sleep you get is fitful, too many noises in the forest keeping you awake, Ellie’s murmurs in her sleep putting you on high alert, listening closely for any sounds of distress. You huddle close on the sleeping bags, keeping each other warm while Joel paces the small camp you’ve made.

You’re up with the sun, feeling like you barely got back to sleep when you’re being pulled out of it, and Joel has a plan. “It’s an older couple,” he informs you, scratching at his forehead, passing you a cup of coffee. You’ve rationed what you found back in KC best you can, but you’re getting down to the dregs and the grounds are more and more stale. But it’s caffeine, and you’re grateful all the same. “Husband looks like a hunter. I say we wait it out, wait for him to leave, then get in there. Get the wife to point us in the right direction. Figure out where the hell we are, if they’ve ever heard of Tommy, if he passed through here.”

“What if she doesn’t want to help us?” Ellie asks, and the waver in her voice pulls at something in your chest. You stare down into your coffee.

Joel pulls his gun out of his pocket, bare fingers curled around the handle. “We make sure she does.”

“Joel—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“We’ve been walking for days, Liv. I know you’ve been thinkin’ the same as I have. This is the first real thing we’ve found; I won’t walk away until we’ve found all we can.”

You swallow hard, the coffee bitter on your tongue. “Okay,” you nod, “but we ask politely first.”

His jaw ticks. “Yes, dear.”

Florence lets you inside with little issue. She actually laughs at Ellie’s whispered what the fuuuuuuck when you step into the cabin. The warmth that floods your body nearly makes you crumple on the spot, but you keep upright, taking in the log interior, the animal skulls and all manner of tools and equipment hanging from the walls.

Joel pushes ahead of the two of you, gun raised, scanning the space. “Anyone else here?”

“Just me,” the older woman says, almost smiling. “You waited until Marlon left.”

“He looked like a shoot first, ask questions later type,” Joel says, and she laughs again.

“He is.”

Keeping the gun at hand, Joel steps through the cabin, poking around doors, heading up to the loft to make sure it’s empty too. You and Ellie stand there awkwardly, teeth chattering as your bodies get used to the warmth.

“Sit down, girls,” Florence instructs, getting out of her chair with some effort. “I’ll make you some soup.”

“You don’t have t—” you protest, but she waves you off as she heads to the kitchen area.

“It’s cold out there.”

Joel comes back down the stairs, satisfied with his search, and Ellie sinks down on the couch, clearly unable to resist a soft seat. You’re tense, and Joel stands beside you, one hand in the middle of your back, the other still holding his gun aloft.

“Joel,” you start, but he shakes his head again, just like he had.

“Where is she?”

“Making soup,” Ellie answers and his brows shoot up. 

It’s a good few minutes of quiet, and you sit down beside Ellie, every bone in your body creaking as you hit the cushion. Joel puts himself between the two of you and Florence, her back to you, the clatter of dishes the only sound.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Joel says, “just need to know where we are.”

The woman nods as she turns back, two bowls of soup in her hands as she walks back toward the couch. You and Ellie accept them with mumbled thanks, and she goes back to get a third bowl for Joel before sinking back into her rocking chair, regarding the three of you.

“You got a map?”

About an hour later, the bowls are empty, you can feel your toes again, and Ellie’s cheeks are not nearly as rosy as they’d been when she woke up this morning. The map sits on the table in front of you, and your eyes are trained on the spot Florence had pointed to. Joel is still rigid, pacing the cabin with the gun in his hand, ignoring you when you tell him to put it away.

Florence is still in her rocking chair, and she pauses mid-rock, head turning toward the door. “He’s back.”

“Ellie, upstairs,” you say, and she shoots you a wide-eyed look, but you press. “Now.”

She sighs as she darts upstairs, like she’s annoyed to not be in the line of fire, and Joel pulls you up off the couch, bringing you with him into the kitchen, out of sight of the front door.

The man you assume to be Marlon steps through the front door a beat later, unzipping his coat and setting a hunting bow down on the nearby table. Florence just watches, rocking back and forth in her chair, but you don’t miss the way her eyes meet his and then flick to the pair of you tucked to the side.

Marlon takes a step forward, and Joel moves at the same time. “And the gun, too.”

Your brow lifts. You hadn’t noticed the holster at Marlon’s belt, but Joel had. “Who the hell are you?”

Joel steps around the room slowly, his own gun lifted and pointed at the older man. “Just someone passin’ through.” You stay where you are, watching the scene unfold before you. Joel stops, gestures to Marlon. “Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

You have to admit the thread of power in his voice makes a shiver race down your spine. And it’s not from the cold.

Marlon does as asked, pulling the pistol out almost mockingly, shaking it in the air before setting it down — out of reach, like Joel said.

“Why didn’t you shoot ‘em?” Marlon asks, jutting his chin at his wife.

“Gun’s all the way over there,” Florence replies, looking toward the kitchen. You realize she could have — when she went to make you all soup, she easily could have grabbed the gun and started shooting. Three against one wouldn’t be an easy fight for the woman, but it would have been something. “He didn’t hurt me, by the way,” she tacks onto the end, her voice almost sarcastic.

“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon grumbles, and steps a little closer, gesturing at the table in front of the couch, your empty bowls of soup and the map. “You made him soup?”

“Yeah,” Florence replies, “I did. It’s cold out.”

Marlon sinks down into one of the empty chairs, and you can see Joel’s patience wearing thin. “I’m lookin’ for my brother.”

The old man scoffs, pulling his hat off. “Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel retorts, matching his tone.

“He look anything like you?”

“A bit,” Joel answers, and you can’t stop yourself from stepping forward.

“Not really,” you say, and Marlon’s brows shoot up as you make yourself seen, your own gun dangling from your hand. “Darker hair, a bit shorter, more mustache than beard.”

Another scoff. “I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence says, lifting her chin toward the loft.

“Can I come down?” Ellie’s voice floats down, and Joel bristles.

“No,” he calls, his voice stern, and you both look up to see her lean over the railing.

“Ellie!” you call, trying to strengthen Joel’s command, but it doesn’t work. She comes bounding down the stairs, gun rattling in her hand.

“Ooh-wa,” Marlon grumbles, and both he and Florence start laughing.

“What did I just say?” Joel grits and you sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead.

“Joel, come on,” Ellie retorts, almost rolling her eyes. “They’re like, a thousand.”

“Who’s this little psycho?” Marlon asks, gesturing to Ellie, looking between you and Joel. “Your daughter?”

“She’s—” you start, but Joel cuts you off.

“Never mind her,” he says, stepping forward and poking at the map on the table. “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why you lost?”

“Must have missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie bites out, and you grab her shoulder, yanking her backward and beside you.

“Ho-ly,” Marlon laughs, and Florence chuckles. The whole scene is making your head hurt. It’s like whiplash.

Joel gives you a pointed look as the older couple laughs. Your jaw goes tight and you shake your head ever so slightly, gripping Ellie’s shoulder as he leans in again, pointing at the map. “We’re somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

Marlon stares at Joel for a long moment before his eyes cut to Florence. “You tell him the truth?”

“Yeah,” she says, still rocking back and forth.

“You tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

Another glare from the old man before he leans forward in the chair and pokes at the map. Exactly the same spot Florence had pointed out. Middle of fucking nowhere. You can feel Ellie’s eyes on your face, but you can’t bring yourself to look in her direction.

With a sigh, Joel tucks his gun away. “Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” He sinks down onto the couch, putting his head in his palm.

“Hide?” Marlon laughs. “Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”

“I didn’t want to,” Florence interjects, and despite it all, you laugh. 

Marlon waves her off. “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother, but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You’ve seen Cody?”

At the mention, you step away from Ellie, to the other side of the couch, hovering near Joel’s shoulder, reaching out and curling your fingers in his coat. Ellie sinks onto the corner of the couch and answers for you. “Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with Infected.”

“Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation,” Marlon tells you, his eyes flitting from Ellie to Joel to you and back again. “Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.”

You can feel Joel tensing under your hand like a drawn bowstring. “So you haven’t heard the name Tommy? Tommy Miller?”

“Nope.”

“What about the Fireflies?” you ask, finding your voice.

“We get those in the summer,” Florence answers innocently.

“Not the bugs,” Ellie bites out, “the people.”

“There are firefly people?” the old woman asks and the pair starts laughing again.

Ellie has more to say, but you call her name, your voice as stern as Joel’s had been, and this time she listens, shrinking down onto the couch.

“You got any advice on the best way West?” Joel asks, and you can feel his shoulders going tighter and tighter.

“Yeah,” Marlon answers, “go East. But you never go past the river here.” He points at the map, not far from where he’d pointed before. “Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” you ask, stepping around and sitting on the arm of the couch, your hand still squeezing Joel’s shoulder.

“Death,” Florence says, and an icy chill shoots through you. “We never see who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not. If your brother’s West of the river, he’s gone.”

Joel deflates. You feel it beneath your hand, the slump to his shoulder, the defeat that starts to roil through him. You know him too well not to see it for what it is. He’s giving up.

And Ellie is staring at you. You let yourself meet her gaze, and see your own fear mirrored in her eyes. But despite it all, what comes out of your mouth is, “You aren’t gonna scare us.”

“Scared him,” Florence says, chin lifted toward Joel.

Marlon laughs again and Joel snatches the map up off the table, moving out from under your grip and getting to his feet. “We need to leave.” You move to follow, grabbing Ellie by the shoulder again. You grab your bags from where you stashed them near the stairs. Joel swings the rifle over his shoulder and as he steps past you to get to the door, you hear the wheeze in his breath. Without another word, he steps out of the door, Ellie following.

You turn back to the older couple. “Thank you for the…hospitality.”

Marlon gives you a strange look. “Don’t get yourself killed out there, girl.”

You give a curt nod before turning on your heel, following Joel and Ellie. Ellie is nearly running to keep up with him, a dead rabbit hanging from her grip — where the hell did she get a dead rabbit?

“They don’t know anything,” she’s saying, like she’s trying to reason with him. “Never heard of the Fireflies.”

They’re at the fence by the time you catch up, your boots nearly slipping through the snow. Joel’s stock-still, one hand reached out, gripping the wooden fence for support.

“Joel, are you okay?” Ellie calls, and you hear him grumble at her to shut up. “Holy shit, are you dying?” She whirls, panic in her eyes as she stares at you. “Liv, is he dying? This is the second time.”

Joel shakes his head, the movement almost frantic, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m okay,” he wheezes, and you step past Ellie, moving beside him. “Okay, okay, I’m fine.”

“Joel,” you call, your voice soft, reaching for his free hand, threading your fingers through his. “I’m right here.”

“No, no, but are you okay?” Ellie continues, her voice climbing. “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”

“Ellie, stop it,” you snap, squeezing Joel’s fingers as your head whips in her direction. The anger that spikes through you is there and gone in a flash, but you see it flicker across her face all the same.

“I’m fine,” Joel repeats, lifting your joined hands to his chest, rubbing your knuckles against his sternum. “Just the…cold air, all of a sudden.” He’s still panting, his breaths still wheezing, and he bends slightly, still gripping the fence for support.

Ellie’s still staring at you. The guilt is immediate as she ducks under the fence, putting distance between the pair of you. “Alright, uh, so let’s go and find Tommy and the Fireflies.”

Joel straightens, taking a deep, even breath, and you relax slightly, turning your attention to him fully. His lips form the words I’m okay and you wish to God you could believe him, but his eyes tell a different story. One you don’t have time to hash out here and now.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie is still carrying on, nearly crawling up the hill that leads away from the cabin. “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

PREV | NEXT

[judgementdaysunshine]

can you write something for Rhea Ripley x fem reader where Rhea does something to betray her trust? specifics are up to you but with the prompt : “i trusted you!” i just want something angsty right now:)

Oh boy hold on to your heart 🖤

Why

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Fem reader

Description: After losing your match Rhea does something that shatters your soul

Warning: Minor Swearing

You can feel the adrenaline in your body wear off as you slam Sasha Banks down on the ring mat trying with all your might to pin her down and win. You see Rhea out of the corner of your eye staring intently and yelling as the match continues until you get hit by a chair having the breath knocked out of you as sasha gets on top of you immediately pushing her off until the next thing you knew she had you pinned and the ref calls the match. You get up shaking hands going backstage knowing you were definitely in for whatever rhea had in for you holding your bruised side and still trying to catch your breath as you go in the locker room hugging Liv Morgan and talking with Becky Lynch for a couple of minutes until you see rhea walk in saying bye to becky as you change clothes coughing as you accidentally breath too fast feeling your side burn. "You lost...you fucking lost" you feel your heart rate pick up as you finish changing slowly turning to look at her already knowing by the look on her face that she was disappointed and definitely upset with you "You should've tried harder and not let whatever the hell happened happen!" you feel your nerves kick in as she gets louder and closer to you making you more alert noticing Damian Priest in the door way with Finn Balor next to him as you listen to rhea rant until you jump in "I tried and tried you know damn well we all have matches that wear us down faster not every match turns out the same!" she looks at you as you feel the frustration and anger from losing the match ooze out of you as you find yourself angry at the words being thrown at you. "I have busted my ass and all because of one big match I lost I am being treated like shit? Like I didn't even fucking matter" you feel your world go dark and your breath taken away again by her response when as you begin to yell back she turns around hitting you in your gut then slapping you in the face making you fall to the ground as you squeeze your eyes close hearing footsteps making your already shaky heart panic and beat even faster opening them to see the three above you slowly getting up until finn kicks you down again making you groan in pain seeing damian with his fists raised closing your eyes only saying. "Why... Rhea why..." ready to take whatever was coming until you suddenly heard yelling shooting your eyes open to see Liv fighting rhea along with Rey Mysterio dealing with finn and Edge holding damian against the lockers while a hand grabs you pulling you away from the lockers taking you in the hall looking to see rey's son Dominik "You okay?" you feel your body calm down as you wince in pain dom leading you to medical and being checked out leaving with dom with ice packs and wrapped in bandages. "Thank you Dom" you hug him as rey and edge come around the corner and liv hugs you "You alright?" you nod as rey stands in front of you "I see that the only friend you had is gone" you nod sighing as you try to process what happened "You proved yourself to us this past while now it's up to you" he holds out his hand and you tearfully grab and squeeze it being hugged by the three men and liv being welcomed into a new and small but loving and supportive family changing your career and life forever.

[astrobei]

SUNI!!!!! can i maybe request byler + giggling while kissing🫢🫢 go crazy with it i know itll make me insanely giddy

liv !! absolutely anything for you !! this got away from me so fast and it's so. it's. well. you'll see. here's kiss prompt #29 - giggling while kissing

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Will remarks, raising an eyebrow at Mike over the top of his book. “What’s gotten into you?”

Mike just grins, closing the front door behind him. It’s five o'clock on a Thursday, meaning Mike’s had class from ten this morning almost straight through four p.m., with a brief break in between American Lit and his creative writing workshop where he’d run across campus to the good café for a bagel and a coffee. According to all logic and reason, Mike should not be in a good mood. He should, statistically speaking, be in a really shitty mood.

And yet.

“Nothing,” Mike says, dropping his bag to the floor, right there in the entrance to their apartment. “And what the hell? I got home, like, three seconds ago.”

Will keeps the same look fixed on him as Mike kicks his shoes off, sending them tumbling one after the other into the corner of the room. “Call it a certain je ne sais quoi,” Will replies, following Mike with his gaze as he immediately moves to pick up his shoes. “I can tell.”

Mike turns and squints. “You know French?”

“Sure,” Will laughs, then sets his book aside. He stretches, long and lazy along the length of the sofa, socked feet emerging from the ends of the blanket he’s got thrown over him. “Let’s go with that.”

“You don’t know French,” Mike announces. He would know. Will took Spanish with him for all four years of high school – four agonizing years of conjugating the past participle and imperfect subjunctive – and was even brave enough to attempt a brief foray into an introductory college class before finally calling it quits. Personally, Mike thinks it’s impressive Will lasted the semester. Mike had collected his high school credits and never looked back. “I would know.”

“Yeah?” Will leans back on the couch, watches Mike shuffle the rest of their shoes into place on the shoe rack. “Maybe I do.”

He doesn’t. “Prove it,” Mike says, then picks his bag up off the ground and plops it on top of the dining table. “Say something in French right now. Something romantic.”

“Bonjour,” Will says easily. “Mon ami.”

Mike squints even harder this time. “‘My friend’ is not a romantic thing to say, and also, you’re a liar.”

Will frowns. “How do you know French?”

“I don’t,” Mike laughs. “But I read a lot of Agatha Christie.”

Will gives him a weird look, a little incredulous and a little amused, then holds up the book he’d been reading. It’s Mike’s copy of Murder on the Orient Express. “Yeah, I know. You're unbelievable.”

“I’ve been looking for that,” Mike says, even though he absolutely hasn’t. “You thief.”

Will just smiles, beckoning Mike over to the couch with his free hand. “You love me,” he says, which is a lot closer to the mark than Mike would like Will’s rebuttals to his (entirely unserious) jabs to be.

Mike walks over, of course, because Will is right, and Mike loves him, and love makes you do crazy, stupid things – like being happy on a Thursday evening when your head hurts and your body hurts and all you want is to sleep straight through Friday afternoon. Frankly, it’s ridiculous how happy Mike feels. It’s a bit of an embarrassing look for him, actually.

“Hi,” Mike says, entirely unnecessarily, and lets Will pull him down with one hand. He lands sideways, sprawled halfway across Will’s lap, over the top of the absurdly fuzzy blanket they keep at the foot of the sofa.

Will smiles up at him. “Hey,” he replies, easy and warm. It’s also ridiculous, along with everything else, how soothing the single word is as it leaves Will’s mouth, how Mike’s oncoming headache ebbs, ever-so-slightly, at the sound. Will’s still got Mike’s book in one hand, but he folds a page down and sets it on the coffee table, then scoots over to make room, pressing his back up against the sofa cushions. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Mike sighs, tucking his face into Will’s neck and trying his hardest to not fall off the edge of the sofa. He wiggles his feet under the blanket too, tucks them under Will’s calves, the warm fleece of his pajama pants. “A little tired,” he admits, and Will lets out a sympathetic noise above him. “But good.”

“I’m glad,” Will murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Mike’s head. “And I know for a fact you’re in a weirdly good mood because I folded down the page of your book and you didn’t even yell at me.”

It takes a second for the words to land. Then– 

“Oh, you asshole,” Mike laughs, immediately twisting around in Will’s arms to look at his poor, innocent book lying on the coffee table’s coaster-dotted surface. “You were testing me?”

“You told me you didn’t care about that anymore,” Will points out, one arm wrapping instinctively around Mike’s waist as he moves. “You said you were working on it.”

“I am working on it!” Mike protests. “It’s a secondhand copy anyway, it was already dog-eared and– it’s not about that! I just think you’re so–”

“Mhm?”

“So ridiculous,” Mike says halfheartedly, as Will drops a light kiss to his nose, then his cheek. “I’m in a normal mood. A normal, fine, ordinary–”

“Sure–”

“–and I’m not any more happy than usual–”

“–uh huh–”

“Will!” Mike laughs, breaking away from Will’s vice grip, pulling back from where Will had been leaning in to press another kiss to his cheek. “Oh my god.”

Will just smiles at him. His hair is a bit messed up from lying on the couch, and Mike can feel himself warming up, slowly, from the late February chill he’d braved to walk from the bus stop back to their apartment. “Sorry,” he says, a bit apologetic, a bit pleased, and entirely genuine. “You’re just so fun.”

“I hate you,” Mike whispers. He’s sure that any hope of the phrase having even the slightest semblance of effect is vanquished immediately by the way he says it – breathless and adoring and totally, completely lovesick. “You’re infuriating.”

“You love me,” Will repeats, looking even more happy with himself than before, like getting Mike riled up and flustered is the highlight of his day. He pushes a strand of hair out of Mike’s eyes and asks, more seriously, “Are you hungry? You want something to eat?”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cook for me?” Mike asks, as if they don’t know a grand total of maybe five recipes between the two of them.

“Sure,” Will says. “Yeah. It’ll be romantic.”

Last Mike checked, they needed to get groceries, and he’s not sure what they even have that could feasibly be put together for a meal, but Will’s weirdly good at that sort of thing – throwing the most random ingredients together until it resembles something vaguely edible. Not gourmet, by any means, and sometimes not even good, but, like – if you need caloric sustenance, he’s your guy.

Mike isn’t sure how he feels about another one of those meals, though. Especially when he considers the stockpile of tuna cans in the pantry that’s been there for about a million years. He gives Will a suspicious look. “Like what?”

“Don’t give me that look,” Will says, then shoves gently at Mike’s side to get him to stand up. He follows, kicking the blanket off into a haphazard pile on the end of the sofa, and trailing Mike into the kitchen. “Mac and cheese. From a box.”

Kraft dinner sounds safe enough. “Okay,” Mike says happily. “Thank you.”

He hops up onto the counter while Will digs around the cupboard for a pot, then goes about filling it with water. The kitchen is silent for a while, save for the low humming of the fridge, the sharp clicking of the stove as it turns on. Mike watches him move, a low flame of affection bursting to life in tandem with the gas-fueled warmth against his skin. It’s probably dangerous to be sitting so close to the stove when it’s on, but whatever. It’s the only strip of counter that has enough space for Mike to climb onto and still be this close to Will.

“What’s up with you?” Will asks, pulling a box of mac and cheese off of the cupboard shelf and peering curiously up at him.

Mike, a little belatedly, realizes he’s smiling. “Nothing,” he says, as Will sets the box down on the counter next to Mike’s thigh. “Why?”

“I don’t believe you,” Will says, then slots himself easily into the space between Mike’s legs, rests two hands on his hips. “You never smile this much on a Thursday.”

“You’re so hung up on it being a Thursday,” Mike hums, as Will presses his fingers into Mike’s skin, pushing up the soft fabric of his sweatshirt just a little. “Why are you– hey, that tickles!”

Will just grins, watching Mike squirm with no small amount of joy on his face. “Watch out for the fire,” he says, calm and collected and cool as a cucumber, like he wasn’t the one that nearly got him burned in the first place.

“Watch out for the– oh, shut up,” Mike says. Will laughs, low and pleased, and leans forward, tilting his face up.

“Come down here,” he says, frowning. “I can’t kiss you when you’re all the way up there.”

“Not my fault I’m taller than you,” Mike mumbles, but slides off the counter anyway. He lands a bit awkwardly, stumbles half a step forward before Will steadies him.

“I’m hung up on it being a Thursday,” Will says, tucking a kiss to the side of Mike’s cheek, right under his ear, “because you’re always miserable on Thursdays.”

“I am not,” Mike laughs, as Will pulls back. “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re up early and you have a million classes and you never get enough time to actually eat during the day and you never let me forget it,” Will says, the answer a little too immediate for Mike’s liking. He steps closer, presses Mike back up against the counter until the cold linoleum tiles are digging into the small of his back. “And you’re a menace when your blood sugar is low. Is that it? Did you eat a real lunch today? Are you currently operating under normal human physiology?”

Mike thinks back to the solitary bagel he’d eaten in approximately seven bites while running between the English building and the Communications building. “Um. Unless you count me getting an everything bagel instead of plain, then no.”

“Then what is it?” Will asks. “I can tell, you’re so– you’re being so–”

Mike gives him a strange look. “I don’t think I’m being anything,” he says. It’s true – he doesn’t feel any different from normal, except maybe a little warmer and a little fuzzier and a little bit more hungry than on his average day. “What’s your deal? What am I being?”

“Smilier,” Will says, tilting his head like he’s looking for a nonexistent giveaway in Mike’s face. His eyes dart over Mike’s features, slowly, drinking them in.

“That’s not a word.”

“If I guess,” Will starts, ignoring him, “will you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to guess– Will!” Mike shrieks softly, as Will peppers a quick succession of kisses across his cheek and down his neck. “Fuck you, that tickles!”

“Good grade on a paper?” Will hums against his throat, which isn’t really doing much to help with the tickling thing. Mike tries to pull away, but Will’s grip is steadfast, unyielding. “Heard back from your advisor?”

“No, and no,” Mike gets out. “Nothing happened!”

“Don’t believe you,” Will murmurs, then kisses Mike over the bridge of his nose. “Class got canceled?”

“Thankfully not,” Mike laughs, “because we were peer reviewing today– Will, oh my god, why are you–”

“Be honest with me,” Will says, squinting slightly, “are you on drugs?”

“How the hell would I be on drugs,” Mike stares, a grin spreading, wide and giddy, across his face. His chest is aching from laughter, cheeks already tired from smiling so hard. It’s ridiculous how often he feels like this around Will. He didn’t know you could feel so exhausted in such a wonderful way, by such a wonderful thing. A welcome ache, soothing and grounding and exhilarating all at once. “I don’t understand you.”

“Then tell me,” Will says quietly, leaning in again. He kisses Mike, soft and intentional, thumbs rubbing circles over his hips where his crewneck had ridden up earlier, long and slow enough that Mike forgets about it, for a second – the teasing and the prodding and the interrogation – and the warm ache of laughter gives way to something smoother, steadier. He wants to sink into the feeling like a warm bath – or maybe a dry macaroni noodle in a pot of boiling water.

“The water,” Mike mumbles, barely decipherable. “It’s boiling.”

“It’s just water,” Will says, “it’ll be fine,” and kisses him again.

That’s a good point. “Okay,” Mike whispers, and lets the feeling overtake him – Will’s hands, steady and warm where they’re pressed against Mike’s skin. Where his hair is still damp from his shower, because Will is ridiculous and lame and has one morning class on Thursdays and gets to lay around at home for the rest of the day.

Will presses another kiss to Mike’s lips, leans in once, twice, and–

Thud.

“Ow,” Mike groans, pulling away just long enough to squeeze his eyes shut and rub at the back of his head, where the cabinet had oh-so-rudely refused to move out of the way for him. “Great.”

“Mike,” Will says in mild disbelief, biting down on his lower lip. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks a little flushed. God, Mike loves him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he breathes out, smiling. “I’m– yeah, that was so stupid.”

“So stupid,” Will grins. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Mike groans again, exasperated and drawn-out, and that’s it – Will laughs, bright and happy and eyes going all crinkles at the corners and moves in to kiss him again.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Mike protests, but he’s laughing too, catching Will’s soft exhales as they leave his chest, leaning forward to press more of his weight into him. Will moves easily, lets Mike grin against his mouth – wide and happy and far too pleased for his own good.

“Okay, don’t tell me,” Will says at last, pressing a final kiss to Mike’s cheek before pulling away. “I’m just happy you’re happy.”

“Will,” Mike starts, then reels him back in with one hand on his wrist. Will looks startled, eyes wide as Mike catches him by the other hand too. “I was– nothing happened, I swear. I was just thinking about you earlier.”

Will blinks. “You were thinking about me?”

“Yeah,” Mike shrugs. Will says this like it’s a rare, wondrous occasion – Mike thinking about him, that is – and not something that usually happens during most of Mike’s waking hours and some of his unconscious ones too. “I was thinking about you. You just– you make me feel better. I didn’t notice anything was different.”

Will just looks at him. “So you’re not on drugs?”

Mike drops his head to Will’s shoulder and sighs, long and bereaved. Will laughs, low and breathy next to his ear, wraps both arms around Mike’s waist, and holds on. “Seriously?”

“I’m kidding,” Will murmurs. “That’s sweet. You– really? What were you thinking about?”

This is embarrassing.

“Just you,” Mike admits, a little muffled into the fabric of Will’s sweater. “Just– coming home to you, after a long day.”

“Sap,” Will says, saccharine and so fond that it seems to be spilling right out of him. Mike can feel it, all the ways Will loves him, like it’s a physical thing that’s taking shape under his hands. They’re what make Mike think about him so often, all the time, in the middle of a painstakingly long lecture or seminar. Turning memories like these over in his mind, the simple comfort in knowing his day is going to get better as soon as Will gets his arms around him.

“Shut up,” Mike says. He turns to kiss along the curve of Will’s cheekbone, right under his eye, where the skin has gone wonderfully pink and creased with laughter, then pulls away. “The water’s been boiling for, like, ten minutes, by the way. Just so you know.”

[cc-horan28]

The Little Things You Do for @wishingforloushair <3

Written for the @1dlibrary Valentine's exchange!

“What’s that supposed to mean, then? I’m romantic, aren’t I?!” His voice went up an octave with indignation and Harry couldn’t help but giggle at the offended look on his face.

Harry sat back up from where he was snuggled up with Louis, careful to not spill any of his wine onto the older man as he leaned forward to peck his cheek. “Sure you are, Lou,” he grinned.

OR

The one where Harry makes a throwaway remark about Louis not being a romantic, and Louis is desperate to prove him wrong.

Read on AO3 or under the cut <3

Long note incoming:

Oof so this one was... Yeah, I had it all in my head from the start but i questioned all of it so much. It was fun to write but it turned out WAYYY crack-ier than I'd intended so hehe

I added the stalker bit WAYYY before the actual thing happened with H and I thought it was in bad taste for so long but I couldn't figure out a replacement for it :') . (I apologise if you find it in bad taste I really m sorry)

Huge huge huge thanks to Liv for staying crazy with me while I worked over this (also the moodboard ily). Nashie, Coco ily guys ty for everything. Also everyone in the 1DLibrary server, I could not have finished this without y'all sprinting with me. Much love <3

Louis is like Murphy's Law personified idk man lmao <3

So yeah, this one's for Loz

They were both amazing prompts! Much love and I hope you like this <3

“Okay, Haz, babe- That’s the third time you’ve sighed in the last five minutes. Something has to be on your mind. What is it, love?” Louis stopped short, fingers still tangled in Harry’s hair, the other wrapped awkwardly around a crystal glass Harry had insisted on pouring his beer in, finding the can ‘unromantic’. Louis thought the can had arguably been the better option while they cuddled, but, oh well.

Harry met Louis’ eyes, face expressionless for a moment. “I mean… I’ve just been thinking- It’s about to be Valentine’s day, soon…” he trailed off, smiling up cryptically at Louis. 

Louis raised an eyebrow, utterly confused. Valentine’s day… What did that have anything to do with what they were talking about. Was he forgetting something? Had he forgotten something? He waited for a few moments, trying not to panic. A few moments later, he tilted his head slightly, motioning for Harry to continue, unable to wait any longer.

“See, it’s exactly this,” Harry blew out his cheeks and sighed again, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve been wondering-” he paused, before blurting out the rest of the sentence with the words all meshed together, “It’s almost been a decade and a half and I still haven’t managed to turn you into a romantic,” He watched Louis from the corner of his eye warily.

Louis’ jaw worked up and down for a few moments, trying to make sense of Harry’s rushed words. “ Turn me into a romantic!?” Louis exclaimed, realisation hitting him with the force of a train, “What’s that supposed to mean, then? I’m romantic, aren’t I?!” His voice went up an octave with indignation and Harry couldn’t help but giggle at the offended look on his face.

Harry sat back up from where he was snuggled up with Louis, careful to not spill any of his wine onto the older man as he leaned forward to peck his cheek. “Sure you are, Lou,” he grinned.

“Hey- I’m not a child! Don’t just say it for the sake of it! It’s- I’m-” Louis sputtered, “That’s not going to convince me! Say it like you mean it,”

Harry’s lips curled up with amusement and he pouted exaggeratedly at his husband. “Well, Louis… I mean, what’s the last big romantic gesture you made that you remember?” he asked with a small, crooked smile, tilting his head as he watched Louis gnaw at his lower lip. He felt almost bad for Louis, how seriously he was taking this, but Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t find it all just a bit funny.

“Thought so,” Harry said after a pregnant pause, choking back a laugh at the look of concentration on Louis’ face. “You look like you’re gonna blow a nerve, babe,” he said, reaching out to gently run his thumb along Louis’ jaw, “It’s not that big of a deal-  I was just wondering. Don’t stress yourself out,” 

“You can’t just say something like that and expect me to forget it!” Louis motioned helplessly, forehead still scrunched up, “You’ve got me all worried now, I- Be honest, have I been a bad husband all this time?”

Harry couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Never, Lou. I love you. So so much. You’re the best husband I could’ve ever asked for. You’re just- It was just an observation, that’s all,”

“Oh no no no. It’s you who’s got to have got it all wrong- I mean- I am romantic, aren’t I?” Louis turned to frown at Harry, folding his legs up and looping his arms around his knees.

“Sure you are, Lou. I said that ages ago, didn’t I?” Harry said with the long-suffering patience of someone who had been dealing with this for a long time.

“Not like you meant it. I- You know what, Haz? I’ll prove it to you. Keep your eyes peeled-”

“Don’t generally need to carefully look for grand gestures,” Harry interrupted with a chuckle, ducking away when Louis made to swat at his arm.

“Just you watch, you’re not going to be that mouthy when I’m through with you,”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek and was just about to say something when Louis rolled his eyes, sighing as he turned further towards him. “ Don’t say it. I know what you’re thinking and just- Don’t,”

“I didn’t say anything!” Harry burst out, palm pressed over his mouth as he tried to stifle his giggles.

“But you were thinking it!” Louis mumbled, fake cross with him as he made to pour out the rest of his beer into the glass “And you say I’m the unromantic one,”

Louis smiled smugly to himself as he cut the call, lifting his phone to check the time until the delivery. 

He’d stocked up on roses the previous day, placing them throughout the house one at a time in places where Harry could find them, even putting one in Harry’s car before he left for the studio that morning. The younger man hadn’t mentioned them yet, however. 

When Louis had checked later, the flowers were gone, so Harry must have seen them, but his husband was nothing if not unpredictable, so he chose to ignore it for the time being.

He’d called and practically begged Mitch to not let Harry anywhere near his car until it was time. He was doing his best to keep the plan under wraps, not wanting to make it obvious and so, had decided to restrain himself from asking Harry to come home early, barely able to contain his excitement. Later, they’d had a little conversation over text during lunch, and Harry had promised to be back by dinner.

Louis was holding Harry to that.

Glancing at his phone again and scrunching up his face when he noticed only a few minutes had passed, Louis strode to the kitchen, turning on the kettle to make himself a cuppa before peering into the fridge, unsure why he was relieved when he saw the cake was still intact. It wasn’t like anything would happen to it still in the fridge, but he’d been anxious all day. He wanted it all to be perfect for Harry.

Louis perked up as soon as he heard the door swing open, quickly stubbing out his cigarette and throwing his phone off to the side, turning around to grin at Harry. “Evening, love,” he smiled, watching patiently as Harry shucked off his coat, throwing his shoes off to the side before practically falling onto the couch beside Louis, looking tired and frustrated.

“So…” Louis started, watching Harry intently “Did you like the flowers?” he asked expectantly, the other man’s reaction not what he had in mind when he had sent the flowers. He had been expecting more… Well- Anything but this.

“Oh my god, Louis,” Harry said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned towards him.

“That’s not the ‘Oh my God’ I was expecting, if I’m being honest,” Louis deadpanned, picking some imaginary lint off his t-shirt, feigning nonchalance while his mind reeled with what could have gone wrong to make Harry react this way.

“I almost called the cops here, Louis- To the house. Mitch had to intervene. He stopped me,” Harry paused, a smile betraying the strict tone he was trying to adopt, “ And I still made them go through hours of footage at the studio to confirm who put the flowers there,”

Louis sputtered incoherently, brow creased in confusion “But Mitch told you, didn’t he?” he asked weakly.

“He did but- I thought I had a stalker, I- I mean- The flowers were everywhere! By the door, yesterday? In the car, this morning? And I- The whole car was covered right now, babe. What was I supposed to think, it’s not like you sent a card saying they were from you,” Harry said, holding back from dissolving into a fit of giggles at how ridiculous the whole situation was now that he looked back at it.

“Who else would know you’re at the studio? How did your mind go straight to fuckin’ ‘stalker’?!” Louis asked, a smile creeping onto his face, “They were just flowers!”

Harry leaned into Louis’ side, full-on belly laughing now as he tried to speak coherently. He nearly called the cops on Louis, for sending him flowers. When he was the one who asked him to be romantic. It was all a bit crazy, he couldn’t lie. 

“I’m- Sorry. But I mean- You could’ve added a note,” He managed to choke out, grinning up at Louis, having somehow ended up with his head in his lap.

“I just wanted it to be a surprise! So much for being fuckin’ romantic,” Louis sighed dramatically. 

Harry decided to skip replying, choosing to pull Louis down for a kiss by the neck of his t-shirt.

“No incidents this time,” Louis promised a few hours later, giving Harry a sheepish smile as he drew his chair for him. He’d planned on making his date night usual chicken-parma ham but then decided not to take any chances. He’d ended up ordering in and impulsively getting a cake as well.

He sat down across from Harry, taking in the sight of his face bathed in the flickering light of the candle and reflecting back to when they’d had their first proper date. It had been something similar, dinner he’d made, with just the two of them giggling over nothing the whole time, giddy at the novelty of it all.

“ ‘M never gonna get used to this,” he said, voice slightly thick with emotion, “All of this. You’re so pretty, my love. You look fuckin’ gorgeous in this lighting,” he smiled shily, “I don’t know how I was lucky enough to end up here. I’ve said that for years, I know, but I just- I look at you, at us- And we’ve come so far. It’s- I just love you so much,”

“The season’s getting to somebody,” Harry joked weakly, sniffling in what he hoped was an inconspicuous manner. “We’ve barely started and you’ve already made me all emotional,” he said, the look on his face despite his playful tone telling Louis all he needed to know. “I love you too, my soppy fool,”

Louis stood up, rubbing his hands together like a little kid just about to be let loose on Christmas morning. He tried not to overthink it, this was his chance to make it up for the roses. Harry had to love the cake. 

“Don’t look back,” he reminded, keeping the nervousness out of his voice. He had made Harry sit on a barstool with his face away from the refrigerator, once he’d gotten the plates cleared away. He was standing in front of the fridge himself and tried not to bounce too much as he carefully got the cake out, biting his lip in concentration as he crossed over to the kitchen island.

“Don’t peek,” he repeated, bending over Harry’s shoulder to place the cake in front of him. He smiled to himself as he stuck the little heart-shaped candles in, getting them centred on his first go. He went through the drawers, looking for a lighter, swearing under his breath each time he shut a drawer he didn’t find it in.

“Try by the couch?” Harry suggested, “And I didn’t look, Lou, before you ask. I mean- It’s pretty obvious,” he added, turning towards what he thought was Louis’ general vicinity to show him his still-scrunched-close eyes.

Louis, however, was in the living room by then, groaning as he snatched up the lighter innocuously lying on the centre table.

“What would I do without you?” He asked dramatically as he walked back into the kitchen, lighting up the two heart-shaped candles. “Even with your eyes closed you’re more competent than I am,” he mumbled, stepping back to survey the setup.

The pink of the candles almost clashed with the colours of the cake, but Louis had a feeling Harry wouldn’t mind. His husband was a sucker for anything blue and green.

“What are we blowing out candles for?” Harry asked from behind him and Louis jumped slightly. 

“Well, I dunno-” Louis said, cracking his knuckles anxiously, “I just thought-” He trailed off. Maybe this was a stupid idea, he thought with a sting of doubt passing through him. Who blew out candles when it wasn’t their birthday? And even if it was one of their birt-

“Oh, I’m not complaining!” Harry exclaimed, “I was just curious, is all. Can I open my eyes now, Lou?” he added, sounding apologetic. 

Louis hummed, perching on the stool beside his, watching Harry’s expression as he took in the blue and green house shaped cake. It was simple, but in the dim lighting and with the candles on, it looked rather good. Plus, it was the sentiment that mattered. Despite all the teasings, they both knew Harry was the soppy one.

“Two hearts in one home…” Louis trailed off, motioning vaguely to the cake, “Since we’re going for big romantic declarations- Nothing more apt,”

“Wait- There’s sparklers as well,” Louis mumbled, fumbling with the lighter again as he lit them up,  

“Happy Almost-Valentine’s Day, Harry,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“We’re definitely making this a thing,” Harry smiled when he pulled back, “Happy Almost-Valentine’s, Lou,”

The sparklers had died down and Louis pulled them off, crossing over to throw them into the bin. When he came back he was met with Harry sitting in front of the candle, palm slapped over his mouth.

Louis stood there, staring at the cake and back at Harry, a sinking feeling of realisation heavy in the pit of his stomach. 

“No incidents, you were saying,” Harry grinned, nodding towards the cake, “Watch,”

He gave Louis a significant look before pursing his lips, blowing hard on the candles. Louis was strongly aware of the blush creeping up his neck as he watched the candle go out, only to come back to life a second later.

“One more time,” Harry giggled, blowing out the candles and snorting out a laugh when they jumped back to life. 

“This wasn’t the plan,” Louis groaned, slumping onto the stool beside Harry.

“I don’t mind, they’re fun,” Harry chuckled, blowing out the candles again. Louis couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. Maybe this incident wasn’t all that bad.

Harry opened the door, shucking his coat off and hanging it on the hooks over the table, dropping his keys into the little bowl. He then stopped short in his tracks, staring dumbfoundedly. There were petals. Forming a path. Leading up the curving glass staircase. Presumably to the bedroom.

He scoffed lightly in surprise. It was all a bit over the top, even by his standards. Perhaps he had truly made a romantic out of Louis. If just asking him was all it took…

Barely aware of it, he followed the trail, stepping lightly on the petals, smiling when he felt them give a little beneath his feet. He could imagine Louis laying the petals down, crouching with his tongue caught between his teeth. He smiled to himself at the image, turning to glance back down the stairs to take in how it all looked.

He pushed the bedroom door open, the generally silent snick of it connecting with the magnet on the wall echoing across the closed space. “Lou?” he called out, lingering awkwardly in the doorway as he stared around the room. The floor here was covered with an even thicker layer of petals, and in the back of his mind, he wondered how they would clean them up.

There were also several candles dotted around the room, most of them unlit, but the low scent of something spicy was undeniably present in the room. He had the feeling he was a bit early, and- Well, he had thought Louis would appreciate it, he never stopped moaning about how long Harry spent in the studio, but- From the sight of the room, it seemed like Louis would’ve appreciated a bit more time.

He considered returning to the living room, wasting a bit of time, and pretending he hadn’t seen any of this. Maybe Louis wouldn’t have heard the main door open. Maybe he could act like he’d just gotten home. Maybe-

“Haz!” Louis exclaimed, stepping out of the en suite with a towel clasped between his hands. He threw it carelessly off to the side and crossed over the room to where Harry was standing, and Harry flinched a little, detachedly thinking about who would pick up the towel.

He shook himself mentally, realising Louis was saying something. He hadn’t registered a single word. Hopefully, Louis wouldn’t notice. “ -And I mean, you weren’t supposed to be home early- I’m not- Don’t take this the long way, I love that we can get a head start, but I would’ve liked to have at least gotten all the candles lit,” he rambled,  chuckling lightly before placing his hands on Harry’s hips and stepping closer. 

Harry bit his lip sheepishly, giving him a small shrug. “It really just isn’t meant to be,” he teased, “Every time you try to pull an extravagant gesture, someth-”

“Oi! Watch it, then. Don’t get all cheeky on me,” Louis reprimanded, smiling despite himself. 

“Just stating the facts,” Harry grinned, leaning down for a kiss. 

“I love you so much,” Louis sighed dramatically when Harry pulled away, getting on his toes to peck him, “But now that you’ve seen the surprise already, help me with the candles, yeah?”

“Yeah, I… could…” Harry cocked his head to the side, smiling smugly “Or… we skip the candles,” he teased, cupping Louis’ jaw and running his thumb over his cheekbone, “And we get to whatever it was you had planned in the bathroom?”

A flush crept up Louis’ neck from the sudden change in Harry’s demeanour. It wasn’t like Harry to take the reins, and Louis liked to pretend he would rather be the one in charge, but they both knew he loved it when Harry got like this. “Oh- I wasn’t- It… Um, later?” Louis squeaked.

“Yeah, the candles can wait for later-” Harry smirked, dipping his head down to peck Louis’ lips, then moving to press kisses along the line of his jaw. He placed his hands on Louis’ waist, barely aware when Louis took a step towards him, guiding him to the ensuite door.

Harry instinctually took a few steps back, letting himself be guided by Louis. He barely registered something nudging the back of his calves, and then heard a dull thunk. He broke off, swearing under his breath, and whipped around.

It was one of the candles. Oh-

“Fuck,” Louis hissed, grabbing the candle and blowing it out, setting it upright before looking around wildly for something to clean up the wax with. “Haz, where’s that fuckin’ towel I- Fuckin’ hell,”

Harry didn’t even stop to think, throwing the towel over to Louis and standing awkwardly over his shoulder as he mopped up the spilt wax. It wasn’t until later that he realised the better option would have been to let the wax harden and scrape it out.

At the time, all he was focused on was the small black singed circle on the carpet. Right in front of the window. 

“Oops?” Harry bit his lip as Louis turned to face him, grimacing apologetically, “It’s um- The carpet is… yeah. And the candles, I mean- I’ll light them again, later?”

“Forget the candles, the cinnamon was getting on my nerves anyway. Too fuckin’ strong,” Louis smiled back, and Harry was internally grateful for the offhand way he was taking this. He knew Louis must’ve wanted it all to be perfect, and he nearly would have gotten it right this time, if not for Harry’s clumsiness.

“I love you, Lou. Thanks for doing all this,” Harry said in a small voice, feeling warm and fuzzy as he watched Louis go around the room and blow out the candles one by one. 

“No need to thank me, Harry. Y’know that, babe,” Louis smiled, eyes crinkling up as he leaned against the table, crossing his arms and gazing fondly at the younger man. “I won’t lie… All of this- All that I did” he motioned vaguely, “Could’ve gone better, but- That would’ve been boring, at best. I mean- At least we’ll make more memories this way. No fuckin’ way to forget your husband almost calling the cops on you because you sent him flowers,” he giggled.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” Harry sighed.

Louis just shook his head in response, cracking into a wide smile and holding out his hand towards Harry. “Last surprise,” he motioned towards the slightly open bathroom door and Harry grinned back, intertwining their fingers together.

The scene that greeted them when Louis cracked open the door was not the one Harry had been expecting.

Suds. Suds everywhere.

Harry watched expressions flick over Louis’ face, his own jaw hanging open. Surprise. Bewilderment. Confusion. 

Harry understood the flood of emotions Louis must have been feeling. It really was a lot of bubbles. The bathtub in the corner was nowhere to be seen, completely engulfed under a mountain of suds. Harry bet it would’ve at least come up to his knees if he waded all the way to the bathtub.

He could actually see when the realisation of how this all happened hit Louis. He watched his expression change as it dawned on him.Harry bit the inside of his cheek, suppressing his giggles at the look on his face.

“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” Harry said seriously. Louis rolled his eyes at him, looking entirely unimpressed.

“No I- For real, How did you even manage this?” he asked incredulously.

“A bit too much bubble bath?” Louis offered, still staring incredulously around the bathroom.

“A bit more than just ‘a bit’, I’d say,” Harry chuckled.

“Stop it,” Louis giggled, shooting Harry a fake-offended look, “Or there’ll be no bath for you,”

“What? You’re going to actually bathe in that ?” Harry raised an eyebrow coolly.

“Well since all the bubbles are already there , I figured- Might as well use them, yeah?” Louis grinned, stripping off his clothes as he walked into the foam, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry shook his head and tugged his own shirt off, discarding it off to the side carelessly. He laughed out loud when Louis stepped into the bathtub, disappearing under the bubbles, apart from his head. 

Louis really was such an idiot. But he was his idiot.

“I’m not an idiot,” Louis exclaimed, sounding offended. Harry realised he said the last part out loud. Well, oops.

“I love you, Lou,” Harry giggled, getting in the tub with Louis, reaching for his shoulder when he slightly lost his balance. Maybe it hadn’t all gone according to plan, but Harry wouldn’t have had it any other way. Louis was always there for him. There was nothing more he could ask for.

All that mattered was Louis. And all the little things he did.

[katz-chow]

you can meet me at my hotel

with nothing on under your trench coat

synopsis: price gets a glimpse into your line of work as the unlikely two of your careers cross paths for a mission. aka: price goes undercover and convinces you to be his femme fatale agent

warnings: suggestive themes, actually, very suggestive themes, gn! reader, poisoning, espionage, Florida.

a/n: GOD I AM DELULU, I had a dream of this like a few nights ago and while this ain't my fav piece nor is it very good, i had to write it

The American sector was all Laswell’s territory, but for this one, it became an international threat as a Bosnian mafia leader was said to be planning a visit to Miami. Which so happens to be where you were also staying as there was a press conference for your new movie. Laswell, sweet matchmaker she is, knew that you were in town, so she specifically requested Price for this assassination mission. Gaz came along too, only because she wanted him to have a break. 

Laswell called you two weeks before, informing you about the man and Price will be tracking down, using your press conference to get close to him. The plan was easy, you finish your conference and lure him into a conversation, invite him to LIV, and from there it was all Price. One thing she forgot to mention, however, was that Price didn’t know you were involved until he landed and you greeted him. This “American undercover agent” was you. 

“Love, what are you doing?” He whispered calmly, yet demanding in your ear as he nuzzled into you. From everyone else’s view, it was just two lovers reunited after months of waiting, which was true anyway.

“The eagle has landed.” You mumbled as pure bliss wrapped his strong biceps against your ribs. 

Laswell laughed in your earpieces, “Surprise John, you get an easy mission and see hot shot Hollywood queen too.”

Out of the corner of Price’s eye, he sees Gaz sitting with a woman, both with two cups of coffee on the table they shared. “Bastards you two.” He should’ve seen it coming with you wearing one of Gaz’s hats and Laswell’s sunglasses as your disguise from the paparazzi.

“Get on with it.” Laswell and Gaz cheered and laughed at the two of you with Price’s sour expression ruining this heartwarming moment as you giggle at him. 

The press conference went great, though Price’s anger and utter annoyance at you wrapping your arms around this very violent and dangerous man did make Laswell tease him the entire day until you two got to the club. 

Price wraps his arms around your waist as you stand in front of your mirror as you finished up doing your hair. “You’re so pretty, Love. My star of the show.”

You giggle and kiss his cheek, turning around and using your thumb to rub his cheek and groom his beard. “Are you ready?” You pat his suit jacket lapel and feel the glass vitals of white snake root extract. 

“Always.” His hand caresses your thigh to feel your holdout, a small handgun. Price insisted that you have one with you at all times throughout this mission, and just with you in general because he knows about hidden vendettas against celebrities. 

“Tarik? Right? We spoke today?” You purred as you slide into the VIP table next to the target. You lean your chest forward towards him and cross your legs. 

A few tables away was your own VIP table with some of your costars and their dates. Price leaned back against the vinyl booth, a glass of Don Julio Real swirling in his hand. The booming bass shook through his bones as his eyes stayed trained on you, Gaz’s voice in his ear as he instructs him to move to the bar on the 5th seat. He sees you reach for the man’s chin and drags it to your face. You whisper something to him, close enough that even the DJ couldn’t drown out the fake lust that dripped from your words. That was enough for him as he let you go and grab two drinks for the both of you. 

Walking up to Price in the 3rd seat at the bar, you wave down to the bartender and asked for a bottle of Remy Martin. Price paid and smirked at you. “Having fun here, Sweetheart? Never seen you before.” 

You giggle at his charades, “I’m usually filming or at E11even though. I like that accent you got going on.” 

“Worcester, Darling. I’m sure you’d love it more when it’s right in your ear, hm?” His breath felt hot on your ear lobe as your fingers moved to his chest, taking out the vital. “Have a drink with me instead, it’ll taste better.” 

You smile and roll your eyes playfully. As you stand with the two glasses, one filled and one empty, and the bottle in your other hand, you whisper something nonchalant to him. “We should film it then. Actress after all, right?”

John bit his cheek to cover up his growing smile as he stayed at the bar counter, thinking about the hotel room that he’ll be bringing you back to. Laswell gags, and Price rips out the ear piece and shoves it into his pocket.