#pls somebody write with someone

[caspervi]

Date time ⭐️

[kallistersbullshit]

this is what happens to dca fic writers

[love-songs-for-emma]

i was on zillow today, fantasizing about being able to live somewhere, when i came across the listing for my childhood home. it wasn't active/being sold, but it was on there with some pics of the interior. and my GOD. THEY MADE HER UGLY. THEY TOOK HER RUSTIC PUSSY OUT. WHAT THE FUCK

[anglbrkr]

more father james please i beg 🙏

yes i love that nasty bitch CW: amab and thigh fucking, other than that, nothin' important 1.2k words

[N]'s fingers trail along the floral patterns of the wallpaper, admiring the curling patterns of the olive green vines, ending in blooming buds. Father James has a lovely home, near the edges of town, bordering the woods, all of the decorations are in the taste of his late mother, a woman whose pictures hang on many walls and lie on an abundance of shelves. It's something he's noticed since he arrived the night before, when James put the frame face down before crawling on top of him, giving more reason to cause [N]'s limp.

He woke up warm and with an aching ass, weakly throwing slurred curses at a groggy James, who seemed far too pleased about it. Now he manages to walk around the old walls of the home, drinking tea while listening to the distant sounds of pouring water and wind chimes clinking together. He shivers, the cold air assaulting his bare legs. He really should've opted to wear one of James' pants to go with the knit sweater that hangs loosely at his shoulders.

"You know, when she made me that sweater it didn't fit me that well either," the priest's voice came from behind, as well as his arms, wrapping themselves around [N]'s middle. "She was never that good at predetermining the size of what she would knit."

"Are you speaking ill of your mother's knitting?" [N] bites his lip, stopping a laugh from leaving him. James snorts, pulling him in closer.

"Don't give her a reason to haunt me."

[N] places his mug on the table against the wall, next to a small flower vase, a silent confirmation that James had all his attention. The priest kisses the skin the sweater fails to cover, lips against [N]'s shoulder blades and dipping down to suckle hungrily at his collarbone. [N] trembles slightly beneath James', biting his lip to hold back the moan that threatens to escape his parted mouth. He turns his head, searching James' eyes. A smirk touches the corners of his lips.

"So, how long am I allowed to stay here?" He asks, turning his head and brushing his nose against James'. He inhales deeply, feeling his hot breath against his skin.

"Ideally, you'd never leave," He replies huskily into [N]'s ear, continuing to nibble and lick at his neck. His tongue flicks teasingly over the exposed skin below his chin, sucking just hard enough for [N] to feel the heat of it, eliciting a whimper. His body is turned and pushed against the wall, roughly, but he doesn’t seem to care, losing himself in James’ warm hands caressing his bare flesh, trailing under the borrowed sweater. His eyes fluttered close, feeling the priest’s fingers gently circling his nipples, pulling and tweaking the tips. His mind is only able to register the sensation.

"Well, that's certainly an answer." [N] answers absently, letting his hand slide down between them, cupping at the bulge in James' sweatpants, he wasn't hard, but he wasn't entirely flaccid, either. His other hand caressed the older man's naked chest, squeezing and kneading the muscles underneath, watching the cross necklace dangling between his pecs. He looked up at James through hooded eyes, unapologetically. He doesn't get to register James' reaction before his front is pushed against the wall, causing him to groan. "Make up your mind, will you," he sighs, but isn't displeased, feeling the older man's clothed erection against his bare behind.

"It's for my own good," James whispers, tugging his sweats down, stroking his shaft before pressing them between [N]'s thighs. "Your eyes do things to me."

[N]'s eyes threaten to roll back, feeling the older man's shaft press and rub against the underside of his balls, jutting upward until they meet with his groin. When James moves them upwards again, [N] gasps, unable to repress a shudder.

His eyes widen in surprise at the sudden movement, but he quickly shuts them reflexively once his arousal hits full force. "What're-"

"Squeeze."

[N]'s almost embarrassed by how quickly he did as told, squeezing his thighs together, pressing Father James' cock between them. He hears him shudder, hands at his hips as he thrusts between the younger man's thighs, rocking his pelvis as [N] whimpers, a quiet sound that makes James grin.

[N] moans quietly, squeezing tight around the shaft. It felt so much better than his fingers. "God.." He breathes out, his thoughts swimming in lust. Just the stimulation of the older man's cock rubbing underneath his sack had his head reeling. He wanted more, everything.

James leans down, kissing [N]'s neck, biting lightly at the spot right beside his ear. "That's it," He praises, feeling [N] move with the rhythm he's set, gripping tighter around his member. "Just a bit more," He tells him, holding him firmly by the hips as he rocks against the younger man.

James kisses [N]'s neck softly, hearing him gasp. He watches the way [N] holds his breath as his pace picks up, moving faster and roughening against the young man's thighs. [N] grips the hem of the oversized sweater, pulling it up slightly to watch the way James' girth parts his thighs, both of their tips leaking precum onto the hardwood floor beneath them.

A growl escapes James' throat when [N] squeezes harder, he kisses [N] on the cheek, keeping up his steady rhythm, slowly increasing his speed. There's not even a single moment of respite before [N] responds to every motion, moaning loudly each time James pressed against his inner thigh. He peers over the younger man's shoulder, catching the same sight that's hypnotizing him. James' brain short circuits, tugging the old thing up from the younger man's body, not really caring where it lands. He presses his chest against [N]'s nude back, pressing deeper into him as he slides a hand along [N]'s hip to cup his rear, groping for handfuls of firm muscle.

"Oh God," [N] mutters lowly, panting heavily now, pushing back towards James, wanting more contact with his body. "James," He says, trying to pull back and push back at the same time, though it proves difficult with his thighs squeezed so tightly. He wonders if he could lose circulation through this. If the older man replies, then it's muffled against his neck. There's a burning cold against his back, where the cool metal of the cross around the priest's neck meets his hot skin. His hand sinks to his crotch, jerkily rubbing himself, eyes rolling back as his thumb presses over his slit, rubbing over the weeping head.

Though James can’t see the face [N] is making at the moment, his imagination conjures images from the night before, hell, even from a few hours ago, of the younger man’s face twisted in pleasure, jaw slack as his glassy eyes cross. He could hump his cock between his thighs for all eternity if he had the chance, chasing his pleasure like a desperate mutt in heat; his fingers dig into [N]'s hips, gripping tight as he grinds himself against the young man.

But [N] needs more. He pushes against the priest's stomach, desperate. "Father..." His voice breaks off on another sharp intake of breath.

Such a sweet plea. It'd be a crime for James not to oblige.

[kagejima]

aah rae pls we have all the same faves!! but i haven’t been able to rest since i saw tamaki. he loves butterflies??? like ughhhghhh i want to eat him.

but my headcanon for him is that he is super loud and needy. like he will fuck himself dumb and just moan and whine in your ear the whole time. completely loses himself. and then uses your chest as a pillow. okay i’m done with my breakdown now 💗💗

oh fuck yeah!! high five! 🥰🥰

also PLEEEEEEASE rika, you are so spot on 😭😭😭😭 i feel like you'd have to like coax it out of him the first few times. like ushijima, i think they'd be the same where he's trying not to make too much noise the first few times but that's because he's concentrating so hard on making everything perfect and you're just like fjejfjenfnjdf just???? let go????? and when he does he gets so loud and needy and he's whining against you how much he loves you and stuff 🥺🥺

[partyinthemysterymachine]

oh shit i found some scenes notes/rejects from the library arc i needed to NOT forget about and touch on Eventually™️ Soon™️, ruh roh!

[joelscruff]

truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

--

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

--

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[afterglowsainz]

so it goes… | carlos sainz

summary: carlos has the biggest crush on the famous up and coming actress but she doesn’t know who he is

fc: anya taylor-joy

warnings: this is my first smau so plsss tell me what you think <3 i made it a bit long cause i’m use to write detailed stories but is worth it i swear!! also english is not my first language so there might be mistakes

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ynusername life lately 🧚🏼‍♀️

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user1 she’s so pretty ughhh

user2 y/n please give me just once chance i’m beggin

user3 simping respectfully

carlossainz55 que linda! (so pretty!)

user4 hello??

user5 ariana what are you doing here 😭

bffusername literally my wife 😮‍💨

ynusername me and you forever 🤭

user6 mother

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carlossainz55 great weekend all in all 🏆 podium and good points for the team, ready for the next! 🔜

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user4 let’s gooo smooth operator‼️

user7 forza ferrari 🐎

charlesleclerc great job! double podium next race 👊🏼

user8 brilliant drive carlos!!

user9 VAMOOOOS (let’s go)

user5 okay we see y/n’s best friend in the likes 👀

user10 i think she’s a ferrari fan!

landonorris congrats on the podium or whatever 🙄

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ynusername emma is now on streaming platforms !!! go watch it 🫶🏽

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user1 and they call her the it girl !!!

user2 favorite movie of the year 💞

user3 y/n y/l/n future oscar winner‼️

bffusername GO WATCH MY WIFE’S MOVIE OR ELSE

ynusername you heard her!

carlossainz55 loved the movie!

user4 okay but are we believing he actually saw a romantic period piece or?? 🤨

user5 idk why i kinda believe it solely on the fact that he’s obsessed with y/n 😭

user6 i don’t see the appeal, she’s not all that :/

user4 now i know you did NOT just said that about THE Y/N Y/L/N

user7 y/n drop another movie i’ve already seen this one a thousand times :( (liked by carlossainz55)

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ynusername italian nights 🧿

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bffusername my girlfriend the prettiest of prettiest 🥰

user1 picture at a church and partying with måneskin? ohhh she’s cool cool

user2 carlos i understand you completely

carlossainz55 beautiful!

ynusername thank you! 💕

user3 omg did she actually??

user4 somebody make sure carlos is still alive and breathing pls

user5 finally! my boy has been in the trenches for monthsss

landonorris 👀

user6 now lando what do you know??

(ynusername has started following carlossainz55)

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carlossainz55 summer break 🏁

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user1 well hello there

user2 weird way to ask me to marry you but ofc🤭

user3 not carlos immediately posting a thirst trap after yn followed him 😭

user4 thirst trap seems a bit much…

user3 him just casually posting the most earth shattering hottest pictures out of nowhere??

user4 okay you may have a point

user5 post a warning or something next time jesus

user6 I AM ON MY KNEES PLEASE

user7 dinner would be served, house would be cleaned, kids on bed, anything he wants

ynusername 🥰 (liked by carlossainz55)

carlossainz55 🫶🏽

user8 girl me too

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yourusername beautiful beautiful madrid 🤍

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user1 omg you’re in my city!!!

user2 someone send this to carlos quick!

user3 you’re so beautiful 😻

user4 carlossainz55 my guy this is your chance

user5 you’re STUNNING 🤩

carlossainz55 i need to show you all the nice places🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)

yourusername omg please!! i need a local tour guide

carlossainz55 😊

user6 omg is this the beginning of something???

user7 i’m shipping them already 🤭

user8 someone check on carlos please‼️

[azulpitlane]

i wish you would I ln4

pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist

yourusername posted a story 2h ago

The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.

"Mason?"

"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."

Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.

"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.

"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."

You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.

As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.

"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."

"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."

"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."

"And um I have to ask,"

You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.

"What is it Mase?"

"Do you love him?"

You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.

"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."

"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."

"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."

You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.

Lando was freaking out.

He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?

He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?

Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.

"LANDOOOO! HI."

"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"

"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"

"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."

"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."

Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.

"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"

"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."

"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."

"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"

"Wait-"

She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.

Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.

"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"

"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."

"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."

"What are you talking about? What article?"

"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."

Oh god.

Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages

YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message

Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages

Y/f/n 8 unread messages

The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.

"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.

"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."

"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"

"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."

You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.

"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."

"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"

"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."

"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."

"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."

"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."

"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"

"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?

"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?

"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."

"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"

Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.

"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

one week later

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yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3

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yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️

yourusername pls dont forget snacks

taylorswift need this new album right now

danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹

liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others

dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.

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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA

user2 team mason idc

user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)

user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.

user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry

user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁

notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc

[ttpdsargeant]

lacy

oscar piastri x reader, ex!lando norris x reader

part 1 part 2

having to watch his ex with his teammate, he starts to get jealous. however, he knows he can’t do anything about it because he knows he’s the one who ruined everything.

it’s loosely based on lacy by olivia rodrigo but from lando’s perspective if that makes sense. also first bit of non social media writing pls be nice😪😪 (this is about 2 weeks after invisible string)

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 1,845,977 others

yourusername, enchanted, out now🤍

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user1, “forcing laughter faking smiles” this is so 2022 lando & y/n coded i love when she gets shady

carmenmmundt, prettiest girl with the prettiest voice🫶🫶

⤷ yourusername, miss you sm💗💗

user2, this night is sparkling😭😭don’t you let it go😭😭i’m wonderstruck😭😭blushing all the way home😭😭

⤷ user3, best chorus ever i fear

lilymhe, GORGEOUS SONG GORGEOUS GIRL I LOVE IT

⤷ yourusername, I LOVE U🫶🫶

user4, IM NEVER RECOVERING FROM THIS LEAVE ME ALONE

user5, please!! don’t!! be!! in!! love!! with!! someone!! else!! please!! don’t!! have!! somebody!! waiting!! on!! you!!

⤷ user6, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

oscarpiastri, stop it i’m blushing

⤷ yourusername, good🫶🫶

user7, cutest couple in the world i think

user8, lando liked this why am i scared

lando had heard the song. of course he had, how could he not? it was on the radio, on every social media app, it was everywhere.

it didn’t help that it was about his teammate either because people wouldn’t stop going on about it in interviews.

he knew he was the one who messed everything up, so he knew you would move on soon enough. there was no reason for him to be jealous. after all, he told you he never loved you; was that a lie?

going into mclaren’s hospitality, he wasn’t really expecting you and oscar to be there. he tried to push down the jealousy but he couldn’t help glaring from afar.

neither of you even noticed that he entered, meaning he was free to stare. max, however, noticed him doing anything but looking away from you two.

“mate, you really need to move on,” he spoke, catching lando’s attention. “it’s been 6 months and you’re the one that broke up with her.”

sighing, lando covered his face with his hands. “i know. i messed it up, but why does it have to be him?”

liked by yngirlfriend, yn4oscar and 16,829 others

ynupdates, lando and y/n via mclaren’s instagram story😭😭admin just gets messier and messier

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user1, NO WAY YOURE KIDDING

user2, they look like kids who got caught doing something bad😭😭

⤷ user3, they were def caught off guard

user4, where was oscar omg

user5, they’re literally 🧍🧍‍♀️

user6, first ynlando picture in 6 months nobody move

⤷ user7, this is insane right after enchanted

user8, begging people to not ship them again no one forget how cutsie oscar and her are pls

this is lowkey short and kinda sucks but it’s fiiiine. also i made girly a singer cause i don’t want her job to just be wag yk so here we are

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine | a writing exercise

excuse me, can i please talk to you for a minute? do you know somebody named...y-you know his name. oh yeah, definitely, i know his name. well, i just want to let you know that he's mine. no, no, he's mine.

hi, this is carol and i wanted to create a fun blurb writing exercise a la @superblysubpar and @chechelia considering the current state of the eddie munson x reader fandom. i, personally, can barely stand the seemingly never ending infighting between writers and groups on here. whether it be writing style or characterization, it seems everyone sort of has a problem with everyone. (not me tho, i truly am vibing). in the words of monica and brandy 'you need to give it up, had about enough'. -- so instead of leaving, i wanted to try something fun, fresh, and cute to bring us together. we all have our own eddie munson head cannons that we hold near and dear to our hearts. but i think that's part of what's fun about fandom, there's a little something for everyone. so this exercise is a way for us to all be on the same playing field -- same prompt/dialogues we have to use. only written how your personally HC eddie, our og guy (no au versions pls). i loved how this manifested on cece's old blog because it was so fun to see what people came up with. below is the dialogue and prompt as well as the best way to participate. yes, if you are a steve girl you can participate lol. if you are someone who has me blocked and/or vice versa and would like to participate, please send your link to a friend so i can add it in an upcoming masterlist.

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): - "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." - "and you like that?" - "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." these don't have to be sexy. they don't have to lead to anything. it's just a romantic night in -- and it can end in anything. angst, fluff, smut, alien invasion. who cares! i just wanna see how you'd write in your world with YOUR eddie. so we can see all of our eddies!

to participate, please write a blurb or ficlet titled 'the boy is mine (____'s edition)' and tag me so that i can add you to the upcoming masterlist. share each other's ficlets. enjoy how they differ and how they are the same. what do we all think is true? what do we differ on? i think this could be really cool.

here's a list of people i'm tagging from different 'x reader' groups to spread the word -- but everyone feel free to do it, please! share with your friends, encourage your friends to do it too: @loveshotzz @chechelia @abibliophobiaa @aphrogeneias @jo-harrington @bewilderedbunny @impmunson @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @rebelfell @crappymixtape @lesservillain @courtingchaos @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @bimbobaggins69 @blueywrites @lonelysatellites @wroteclassicaly @wheels-of-despair @rip-quizilla @upsidedownwithsteve @powderblueblood

[gay-dorito-dust]

HEYYYY

Soo I'm here to rq another Damian x reader(platonic). But real quick, I'm sorry if I'm requesting too much or being a nuisance. Pls lmk if I am so I can stop! It's just hard to find somebody that writes for him like dis.

Anyways, basically the same thing were theyre friends but this time it's a diff scenario. So Damian n reader are obvi friends but theyre also complete oposites. Like Damian is intelegent, focused and meanwhile has reader is a bit dumber, daydreams too much, and kinder. They also get walked over a lot.

So he invites reader over to the manor and she meets his brothers n dad. It's all fine n dandy but they can't help but notice how diff they are.

Bonus points if reader talks positively abt him to his brothers and they're all like "fym he's nice?" And readers all like "fym he isnt?" (They're just not used to being treated like a normal human being) ‼️

Honestly I love writing for platonic! Damian. So pls don’t apologise for anything bc I’m having so much fun rn. 🦦plus I don’t know if this will read well as I’ve written this late at night when o should probably be in bed.

‘Am I seeing things or has Damian finally made a friend.’ Dick whispered to Jason, his eyes unable to tear his eyes away from you and Damian followed Bruce through the manor.

‘Nope, I’m definitely seeing it too.’ Jason replied also looking at you and Damian as if he was looking at the human personifications of night and day.

‘The fact that the demon spawn managed to get a friend sure is…something.’ Tim piped up, having overheard his brothers conversation from standing in between them. ‘I can only hope he didn’t kidnap the poor soul.’ Dick added as he was quick to click onto how Damian kept a hand on your arm, tugging and pulling you along when you stop to stare at a painting in awe for a little too long, gently encouraging you to keep up with him and Bruce by promising to go back to the painting later. Jason then looked over at Tim, ‘any ideas on who they are?’ Tim shrugged. ‘Only the fact that they go to the same school as Damian, share the same art classes and is known for being a little bit of a daydreaming pushover, but despite all that they’re still a kind person.’

Dick smiled sympathetically as his heart ached for you. It wasn’t easy being nice in a city like Gotham, if anything nice ever wandered into the accursed city it seemed as though Gotham itself would stop at nothing to see it destroyed, decimated and become as miserable and as bleak as the city itself; So it was rare to find someone who genuinely could still bring it in themselves to smile whilst in a city like this. And for that Dick had to give you props for being brave enough -and strong enough- to be kind in a place that would gladly take pleasure in stepping over and on you at any inconvenience. For it was truly a sign of bravery at its finest.

‘That kid is sure brave.’ Jason signed, knowing that people like you don’t last in Gotham but it was people like you that Gotham needed the most, but how could a retched place like Gotham heal when it’s always been a rotten city since it’s very conception? He didn’t believe it could be possible but there were always solutions to fighting the problem that seemed impossible to overcome. So who cares if you weren’t the brightest bulb at school? The education system in Gotham was shit anyway the last time he checked and he doubted much had changed when he…well you know…

Tim was silent. He was too busy recognising the protective measures that Damian was taking specifically for you; mainly the hand tugging at your arm anytime he thought you were getting distracted or wandering off elsewhere and muttering about how you need to keep or you’ll get left behind, despite the fact that even if you did Damian would allow himself to fall behind just so that he could walk besides you. While he might be part of the majority that didn’t think he’s ever see the day that Damian brought a friend home, never less a friend who was the total opposite of him. He couldn’t help but feel a sort of relief that Damian finally found a friend, and he knew that both Jason and Dick felt similarly from the looks upon their faces, silently observing how you interact with one another.

The one thing that Tim was confident in was the fact that Damian needed you as much as you needed Damian because you were a beacon of opportunity for his younger brother in many ways that Tim was certain you weren’t made aware of just yet. So while he and his brothers may tease and take this piss about how different you were from Damian, they mean well and express their happiness the only way they knew best; teasing and taking the piss.

‘This library is beautiful Mr Wayne! Do you have any fantasy books?’ You could be heard asking down the hallway, followed by the sound of Bruce softly laughing as he showed you the grand library. ‘This library has any book you can think of and please call me Bruce, it’s not often that Damian brings anyone home for the weekend.’ He says as you looked the Damian confused and a little betrayed. ‘You’ve got friends other than me?’

Damian groaned. ‘No. I don’t, you’re the only friend I’m willing myself to have.’

You smiled and gripped his hand. ‘Aww Dami! That’s so sweet of you to say, despite how brash and blunt you may come across, I’m glad to say that you’re the only friend I’m willing to have too!’ You said without shame. ‘Everyone else isn’t a nice as you are.’ You trailed off while a rare solemn look appeared upon your face as Damian was quick to squeeze your hand reassuringly, Bruce smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not smart like your son mr Wayne, I can’t help it if things don’t come to me as easy as they do others but I try! I try really heard to do my best at every test but…but people tend to laugh of me because to them I’m either slow or thick.’ Damian’s jaw clenched and his brows furrowed upon being remembered of what people tended to call you.

He hated it and whenever he saw it happen, he was quick to utter some threatening words before taking his usual position as your pseudo-bodyguard for the rest of the school day. At first he wasn’t bothered but when you became restless in your pursuit of being his friend, he remembered vividly how people were mocking and making fun of you for trying to be his friend, that he often regrets not accepting your friendship sooner if it meant being able to be there when it counts.

‘When will you get it that Damian doesn’t want to be friends with someone like you.’ One person said.

‘Then I’ll just have to keep trying.’ You rebutted, still smiling somehow.

Another person scoffs. ‘Get fucking real. You’re a weirdo, no one wants to be friends with a weirdo who so fucking slow at everything.’

You merely shrugged, even when someone’s insulting you, your brain doesn’t recognises it as such. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’

‘God you’re so fucking useless that I’m surprised that anyone bothers with you. Let me say this in a way you won’t have to try so hard to understand dipshit. Damian. Will. Never. Be. Friends. With. Someone. Like. You. Ever.’ A third slowly spoke and Damian had heard enough and within a blink of an eye had laid them out flat. You blinked before looking at Damian with a bright smile. ‘Hi Damian! Did you hurt these guys, that’s not very nice.’

‘They insulted you and yet you defend their honour.’ Damian asked incredulously as you both walked down the hallway, leaving the three bullies to groan from their injuries. You shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t say that.’

‘They were insulting you.’ Damian reiterated. ‘They insulted your intelligence and your abilities. People like them often hide bigger insecurities than others.’ Damian replied, finding your ability to keep smiling after such things both annoying as it was admirable.

‘Are we friends now?’ You asked innocently enough and Damian knew he had sealed his fate, and so he sighs and looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, we’re…friends.’ He mutters and doesn’t do anything to stop you from dragging him to art class.

‘I was alone before Damian.’ You admitted as you looked at Bruce with a smile as you squeezed Damian’s hand in kind. ‘But now he’s here and he’s my bestest friend ever!’ Damian honestly wishes that you respect yourself more because you could claim that he saved you multiple times, but you’d never acknowledge the times where you have saved him by being unequivocally kind, sweet and over all a better person then all of Gotham’s civilians combined. ‘I was finding my first week at school horrid before I befriended l/n.’ Damian admitted as you softly cooed. The boy then swallows thickly. ‘Their friendship is much appreciated.’

‘Aww! Dami!’ You cried as you crashed into him, causing you both to hit the floor in a heap of limbs.

While Damian was cursing mom lethal threats and you were laughing, Bruce had already made his mind up about you and was certain to make sure to have Damian invite you over as much as possible. It was obvious for him to see that you and Damian were good for each other despite your vast and glaring differences, however that’s what worked in your favour, the power to have over come all odds was incredible; not to mention the fact that your friendship with Damian had lasted as long as it has was another impressive feet on top of that. Bruce knows it’s been hard for Damian to fit in and find a friend, but he couldn’t have made a better friend than he did in the likes of you.

You were more than defiantly welcomed back to the manor if Bruce had anything to say about it.

‘Get off of me!’ Damian shouts.

‘Damian, I think my foot is stuck with yours.’ You reply, scared.

‘That’s your own foot- how did you manage to tangle yourself up in yourself? You landed onto of me?’ Damian asked incredulously.

‘Sorry.’ You apologised.

‘Don’t be.’ Damian said.

Bruce smiled one last time before leaving you both alone in the library to untangle yourselves, only to be greeted by Tim, Dick and Jason. ‘Can I help you three?’ Bruce raised an eyebrow at the boys.

‘Nope.’ Dick started.

‘Not really, just…seeing how the little scamps are dealing.’ Jason followed after.

‘Damian? Nice? The same Damian who tried to, oh I don’t know…KILL ME?!’ Tim asked, revealing to Bruce all he needed to know, their breathing behind the library door was telling that they were clearly eavesdropping on the three of you. Jason and Dick looked at him displeased as Tim looked back at them. ‘I’m not the only one of us who thought that.’ He defended himself. ‘I mean it’s nice that he’s looking out for y/n but still that’s not something someone casually forgets.’

Bruce merely leaves Tim, Dick and Jason to their own quarrel, he loves his boys he truly does, but sometimes they’re more trouble than what they’re worth. He can only hope that they don’t scare you off from coming back for good because he was already planning your next visit.

[springwitch26]

your writing is so fucking hot and perfect! pls can I request a fic where mel ends up getting possessive and jealous after seeing someone hitting on her girlfriend (reader) at abbott and when they get home, melissa makes sure that her girl knows that belongs to her and nobody else.

(featuring a lot of rough sex and some cute aftercare cuz we all love jealous schemmenti. 🤭)

a dangerous emotion (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: when the new substitute teacher hits on you in front of melissa, you face the dirty consequences of her jealousy.

warnings: smut (18+), jealous sex, aggressive male flirting, mel threatens violence (it's melissa), squirting, like one mention of marking

notes: the sleepy witch is back. hope you like this one anon, sorry if i left it in the oven too long. also sorry for any other deficiencies tbh writing is a struggle rn. bonus points to whoever can spot the gay joke 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 friendly fire.

if looks could kill, this fucking guy would be a pile of ash by now.

the teachers' lounge was uncharacteristically quiet. the tv had been muted; nobody cared to watch the morning news. all eyes flickered between you and the new male teacher on one side of the room, and your seething girlfriend on the other.

the redhead was visibly furious from the moment he walked in the door, eyes dragging down your body in your flowery sundress and matching tights.

"happy first day to me," he murmured to himself, thinking nobody would hear it. it took all of melissa's self-control and professionalism not to punch his lights out.

"spring looks good on you, sweetie," he drawled from behind you as you poured coffee from the communal pot into your favorite mug.

the hem of your dress floated up as you spun around to face him, and he licked his lips. you didn't notice it, but melissa did. her hands tightened into fists in her lap.

"thank you," you smiled warmly at the man in an attempt to be polite. he was tall and stocky, probably just a few years older than you. he seemed like the kind of guy who was used to getting whatever he wanted from women—with his handsome yet cocky grin and large arms crossed in front of his chest. "are you new here?"

"yep, and i like what i see already," he threw you a wink and you looked down at the floor. you heard melissa cracking her knuckles in the background. she only did that when she was holding back, either from pouncing on you or swinging at somebody else. "i'm jesse. i'll be teachin' math up on the second floor until ms. summers gets back from maternity leave."

"well, jesse, welcome to abbott," you said sweetly, hoping to escape this conversation and join your girlfriend on the couch. "i'm a first-grade teacher, so i won't be seeing you much. but it's nice to meet y—"

"actually, i was hoping you'd show me around," he cut you off, taking a few steps toward you. "if i get lost in this building, my preteen students will never let me live it down."

"oh, um..."

before you could finish your thought, he leaned in and whispered something in your ear. melissa saw the whole exchange, enraged at this man's audacity to even breathe in your direction. you were her girl. everybody knew that. and it was time for this guy to learn.

but when melissa stood up to confront him, you did something that made her see red: you walked out with him. the other teachers noticed her anger, of course, and tried to calm her down.

"melissa, relax," barbara said, gently pulling on her best friend's hand and guiding her to sit back down. "he's harmless."

"harmless?" melissa repeated indignantly. "barb, he was lookin' at her like he wanted to bend her over the damn table!"

"you look at her like that all the time..." gregory muttered, and melissa raised an eyebrow at him in accusation. he shrugged and averted his gaze.

"i look at her like i love her!" melissa insisted. "and she's my girlfriend. i get to look at her however i want. this jamie—"

"jesse," janine corrected.

"—can't just walk in and start undressin' her with his eyes!"

"if it helps, i can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything untoward," jacob offered. "i'm pretty much the big dog on the second floor these days. i can set him straight if it comes to that."

"you couldn't even set yourself straight," melissa fired back, and jacob gave the camera a defeated look. "what, you think i can't handle this myself?"

"well, it's just that... jealousy is a dangerous emotion on you," jacob answered tentatively.

"jealousy? what am i, some kinda teenager? i don't get jealous."

"i don't know, you seemed pretty jealous at pecsa last year when the keynote speaker gave y/n his room number," gregory pointed out.

"he was just annoying."

"you poured your math-a-rita on his white suit jacket," janine chimed in.

"the jabroni shouldn't have worn white to a bar!"

"melissa, i know you're protective of y/n, but she's a grown woman capable of making her own decisions," barbara said, placing a comforting hand over the redhead's clenched fists. "she doesn't seem to have a problem with the man. at some point, you just need to trust her judgment."

"yeah, she and i are going to have a little conversation about her judgment when she gets back."

"whose judgment?" you asked as you strode back into the break room, jesse following close behind.

when your question was met with silence and anxious looks from your friends, jesse took hold of your hand and brought it to his lips.

"thanks for the tour, cutie," he said after pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

"thank you," you replied, shifting uneasily and look over your shoulder in anticipation of melissa's reaction. she didn't keep you waiting long.

"hey, hon," melissa approached the two of you, then hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close. "the kids'll be here in half an hour, do you wanna go prep your classroom for the science lab?"

"i did that last night," you replied, not taking the hint.

"of course you did," mel cooed and planted a kiss behind your ear. jesse quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "maybe i just want some alone time with my lovely girlfriend before i start my day. that okay with you?"

you nodded sheepishly and leaned in to her. you could feel her possessive anger in her tough grip on your waist, could see it in the subtle wild edge to her green eyes. despite being in deep trouble, you still relaxed into the warmth of her casual touch and the familiar scent of patchouli on her skin.

jesse took a step back, opening his mouth as if to say something and sighing instead. as you and melissa exited the breakroom, jesse tried one more time to get your attention.

"hey, if you need any more—"

"i think we're good, janine," melissa cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

"it's jesse," the man sighed with a frustrated look at the camera.

---

"what the hell was that, huh?" melissa had you pinned up against her classroom door before you could even process what was happening. "you're givin' free tours now?"

"n-no!" you stammered frantically, squirming with unease (and excitement) at the fiery confrontation. "not free! i only did it so he would give me the extra chairs from his classroom. you know i've been down a few since the eighth graders tried to make 'chairing' a thing, and i can't let my kids spend another day on the floor. it's not fair!"

"how many times have i told you, i can get you anything you need?"

"yeah, and where's your 'chair guy' now? at least jesse can finish the job!"

oh, you fucked up. you knew it the moment the words left your mouth. melissa eased off of you physically, but her intense glare kept you frozen in place.

"we'll talk about this when we get home. i love you; don't forget it," melissa pecked your cheek and you cocked your head, confused at her sudden tranquility. she moved to whisper in your ear. "because tonight, i'm takin' all my jealousy out on you."

---

you had the misfortune of running into jesse one more time before the day was done. he wolf-whistled from behind you as you walked briskly from your classroom to the lobby, ready to meet melissa and head home.

melissa might have broken his nose if jacob and gregory hadn't been there to hold her back. in fact, she was a split-second away from swinging when jacob took hold of her dominant wrist, shaking his head. gregory followed suit with the other.

the redhead tried to wrench her arms free and glared sternly at the young men when she couldn't. sensing her frustration, you hurried over to her. melissa's gaze softened as soon as she saw you leaning over the counter. you gave jacob and gregory an appreciative nod.

the pair let go of her arms and you took her hands in yours. "let's go home," you said.

the two of you walked out of the building as jacob and gregory approached jesse.

"she's not interested, if you're still wondering," jacob said, patting jesse's shoulder in mock sympathy.

"should be pretty obvious by now," gregory added.

"first day, and you pissed off my scariest teacher and my favorite?" ava said while strutting out of her office. "nice career move, jason," she snarked. the teachers gave her a bewildered look. "what? i pay attention!"

---

once you got home, it all happened in a blur. melissa's possessive rage had you slipping into that fuzzy, pliable headspace before she even slammed the bedroom door behind you.

you couldn't concentrate on much besides her forceful touch, fingers digging into your hips and mouth sucking bruises into your neck. her low voice cut through the static occasionally, but she seemed to be venting to herself rather than you.

"mine..." her fingernails dug into the flesh of your waist. "touchin' my girl..." she spaced out the words between nips to your neck. "gotta mark you up, let the whole world know..." she landed a hard swat on your ass, then shoved you off of her. "on the bed."

---

"remind me again what he said when you spilled coffee on your shirt," melissa growled from above you. you were spread out on her bed, naked with your legs kept apart by turquoise ropes tied to the bedposts.

"he said, 'feel free to take it off. i wouldn't complain about the view,'" you whispered back.

"and you just let that slide, hm? you entertained him knowin' all he wanted was an eyeful of your tits?"

"yes, melissa."

"i'm sorry, does someone need a reminder of who owns her? i'm happy to provide, sweet girl. tell me," she dipped a finger into your folds and stroked you lightly, "who gets you this wet?"

"you do, ah, only you," you whimpered as she caressed you.

"uh-huh," she cooed, sounding unsatisfied still. "that's right, baby. and i'm the only one who gets to see you like this."

she gripped your hips harshly before gliding her hands up to your chest. she kneaded the swollen flesh of your tits and then zeroed in on your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them.

"that fucker," melissa began, breathing heavily. "will never know how soft these are."

you shook your head in frantic agreement as she massaged you. one of her hands slipped down between your legs again.

"he'll never hear how your breath catches in your throat when your clit's touched," she whispered, beginning to rub soft circles into your bundle of nerves. "or—" she withdrew suddenly and gave your pussy a swat, "how you cry at a spanking."

her jealous attitude had you soaked and sensitive. you were already close when she brought two fingers to your entrance and pushed in.

"and if he ever even imagines the face you make when you come, that pretty little lip bite you do," melissa pumped and curled her fingers roughly, "i'll take edith houghton to'm."

her speed quickly picked up and soon she was diving into you with force, bullying your g-spot with her fingertips.

"come. now," she ordered, and you fell over the edge. you spasmed around her fingers as she drove them in and out of you. she smirked with pride as she looked down at you.

but when you got too sensitive and started to squirm away from her touch, she doubled down. she pumped her fingers faster, and dipped down to suckle on your clit. you cried out. it felt like you were on fire, but the burn was oh so delicious.

"and he'll never guess what happens when you get all sensitive..." she picked her head up momentarily to say this before sucking hard on your nub and crooking her fingers inside you.

you felt the burn rise into a hot tidal wave. a flood of warm liquid spilled out of you. melissa helped you through it before withdrawing her touch, her hands retreating to your thighs. she looked down at you fondly, smiling with only a tiny bit of smug satisfaction.

"god, i love when you do that," she mused, smiling at your dazed, pretty, happy face. "it's like a gift just for me."

a gift. happy first day to me, he had said.

now reminded, melissa was pissed again. but the venom of her jealousy had trickled away, and now all that remained was an urgent need to give you the love and care you deserved.

"but you said somethin' earlier about 'finishing the job.' and i just feel like my job isn't finished, sweetheart," she smiled and cupped your cheeks. "how's a bubble bath sound?"

"mm-hmmm," you managed, fucked out and delirious.

---

"i really wasn't jealous, ya know," melissa murmured into your ear as you snuggled into bed, her chest pressed against your back.

"i find that hard to believe. i mentioned his name and you ripped my panties," you teased.

"okay, maybe a little bit."

"30 percent?"

"20."

"25."

"fine."

"then what was the other 75 percent?"

"i guess it just pisses me off when people don't treat you right. you're a beautiful angel, not a sex doll."

"i don't want you to feel... to feel like you have to take care of me all the time."

"baby girl, you know i don't do things i don't wanna do. you're the love of my life. i wanna spend every minute treatin' you like a princess."

[skymar13]

please please PLEASE do something about whiney virgin!kaminari x fem!reader where he gets pussy for the first time, i would literally FOLD

Virgin!Denki Kaminari x Fem! Reader

University AU

:Smut MDI , all characters aged up!

TW: Obvious smut warnings, unwrapped (pls wrap it kids) loss of virginity m/f oral.

Not proof read because I HATE reading my own writing.

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Denki kaminari was somebody who talked about sex 24/7, all day everyday. Mixing this fact with the idea that he was incredibly thirsty people assumed that their classes whore couldn’t be a virgin it was simply impossible.

You had been under this impression so you decided to never asked fighting that simply it’s do more damage than it would good. And kaminari couldn’t tell his experienced girlfriend that he had absolutely no idea where the clit was. He’d watched pornos but he never really focused on the parts that matter, only focused on burning off some steam. He was growing impatient as you’d only gotten to 2nd base and he needed to feel what it’s like being inside someone, inside you to be more specific.

✧༺༻✧

You and Kaminari were laying on your bed making out. You were straddling his lap while he held your waist pulling you impossibly closer. You feel his tent tight from under you, so you break the kiss raising an eyebrow at you boyfriend making him turn into a hot blushing mess. “I’m sorry it’s just it was so good and you’re so-“ “Denki why’re you apologizing? I’m happy my boyfriend is turned on by me.” You continued to kiss down his jaw his movements being paused from shock and astonishment, but he soon followed your previous actions. You started to grind down on his hips making him let out a loud groan. “Sensitive are we?” You joked but his reaction being one of embarressment. “What’s wrong Denki? It’s okay if you’re uhm..vocal?” You said trying to make the atmosphere lighter to no avail. He looked at the floor for second before his eyes went back to yours. “I’ve never gotten this far with someone before, I’m a total virgin.” He said rushed but you heard him clearly “that’s okay we can go slow.” You said with a kind smile “I don’t want to go slow unless you do?” He said with a wanting look in his eyes as if he’d shatter if you said you didn’t want to do this with him. “Okay I’ll follow your lead” you said with a nod. With your approval he smashed his lips onto yours his hands gabbing at every ounce of skin that he could making you groan into the kiss. You rolled your hips into his you both let out a soft whimper. He pulled away from you lifting up his shirt over his head then discarding it somewhere on the floor. You did the same with yours leaving you in a bra and your pj bottoms. He looked at your covered breasts practically drooling. “What never seen boobs before?” You teased making his face go into fake hurt. “I’ve seen boobs trust me I’ve just never had sex, get your facts straight hun.” He said sarcastically before his hands were back on you. You placed your hands on abdomen feeling his abs then moving to his back then eventually tangling your hands in his hair tugging slightly making him lift his head exposing his neck to you. You left open mouth kisses up and down finding his sweet spot and sucking slightly on the spot. You let of his neck with a small ‘pop’ looking at him as he had a dazed expression. You got off his lap sinking to your knees and motioning for him to move towards the edge of the bed. He did so without even thinking anticipating on what you were going to do. You began to unbuckle his belt then the button of his jeans then the zipper. You played at the hem of his boxers making direct eye contact. “Stop teasing me and do something it hurts so bad!” He whined and my did it make you wet. “Say please don’t be rude babe!” You said laughing to yourself. “Oh my god please [name] please I need it so bad please.” With out saying another word you brought out his member, it was prettier that you’d expected. He wasn’t the thickest but he had good length and well trimmed with a pretty pink tip already leaking pre. You began leaving kitten licks up and down his shaft. He let out low groans and moans. “I need more please stop teasing me already.” He hissed out with saying anything you took him in full bobbing your head up and down sucking him in the right ways. He let out a sigh of relief getting in pleasure. He tangled his hands in your hair pushing your head down and pulling your head up lightly. You tapped his thigh signaling you needed air. You came off his dick a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your hand went to massage his balls, he let out a loud moan quickly covering his mouth. “Don’t be ashamed let them know.” You giggled out at his embarrassment quickly spitting on his shaft and continuing your previous actions. You felt him twitch in your mouth knowing his was close. You bobbed your head fast sucking with more pressure turning him into a groaning mess. He looked pretty like this: fake read mouth slack and eyes shut. An imagine you burned into your mind. Just as he was about to cum you pulled off quickly replacing your mouth with your hands. “Where do you want to cum?”

You had barely any chance to finish before he yelped out “your face. Please please let me cum on your face.” You nodded quickly pushing him to his orgasm. He stuck to his wishes white ropes coating your face. You brought a finger up to the mess taking a stripe of his cum and tasting it. “So yummy babe, want a taste?” You asked coming up to kiss his lips. He groaned into the taste of you noticing the sticky substance he grabbed a nearby cloth helping you wipe off the mess he’d made. “Your turn.” He said switching yalls position and pushing you on your back lightly. He took your previous seat on the floor pulling you closer to the edge. “Can I uh..take these off?” He pulled at the waist band of your panties and pajama pants, you nodded with a weak “yes please” with that he slid them throwing them somewhere across the room immediately diving in. “Hey babe. You’re licking my thigh.” You let out. “I’m sorry I havnt done this before I just want to reciprocate it! Can you show me?” He said embarrassed face red not do to the heat. With your fingers you directed him to where he should be focusing on. And he knew what he was doing after that. Eliciting moans and whimpers from you. He added one of his digits into your hole making you arch your back at the contact. After a couple pumps he added a second. “Is this good?” He questioned. “You can go fast but yes you got!” You said trying to contain your moans. He did as you wished pumping his fingers in and out of you faster, his tongue circling your clit with more force you quickly came on his face. He carried you through your orgasm his face coming up to yours sloppily making out with you groaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. With the same rag you helped him clean up your juices.

He pulled you in with open mouth kisses swiping your lips when you opened your mouth he immediately shoved his tongue in li king your cavity. He broke away a mixture of seriousness and list clouding his eyes. “Can I fuck you?” He asked you nodded your head fast without warning his directed his tip to meet your opening. He gave himself a count down and slowly started to push himself into you making sure to give you time time to adjust. He arched your back the contact making you both groan. At first you’d hissed at the stretch but the pain turning into pleasure. He slowly rocked his hips into yours feeling your walls clench down on him. “T’s way better than m-my hand” he let out making you let out a mixture of a moan and a laugh. Your hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Your own hips moving to meet his. He began to push into you at a fast pace feeling like he needed to be deeper. You could feel the knot in your stomach beginning to form and you knew he was close too, his cock twitching ever so slightly. With a few more thrusts you knew you were about to cum. “Denki I-I’m gonna cum” you let out trying to hold off your own orgasm. “Me t-too.” He hissed out. After two more sloppy thrusts you felt the knot un do and you released all over his shaft. Your vision going black and your mouth slack. He tried to pull out but your walls keeping him in. “I need to cum so bad. Can I cum in you? Please?” You gave a tired nod not even realizing the question. He released his load inside of you with a loud groan. His body falling limp on yours. After a few minutes of catching your breaths he finally pulled out. You grabbed the rag and helped him clean up before cleaning yourself. “I love you so much” he said out of nowhere. “I love you too.” You responded. After you cleaned up you slid your pajamas back on and changed the sheets.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

The was written in a rush lowkey. I lost my first draft. But anyways as always requests wanted!!

[heartpascal]

check under the doormat

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: settling down fully in jackson means new friends, and more patrols. what could go wrong?

▹ — a/n: 9.7K words here guys … and i cannot tell you what is in here. anyway. hopefully its decent. i feel like i just have very little memory of writing all of this, tis all a BLUR!! one second it was two paragraphs, the next its this??? anyway. hope yall enjoy (pls be nice)

▹ — warnings: angst (as always), blood, injuries, food & food hall, teasing, infected + humans, canon typical violence ofc, father figure miller bros, slight suggestion of a dead horse, swearing, not proofread

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

howl’s song association!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

As much as you had grown to love the town of Jackson, one thing that you couldn’t seem to grow fond of was how loud and obnoxious the dining hall was. You understood, of course, a community eating space where people could socialise and eat and enjoy the company of other residents, it was going to be loud.

But you hated it.

You were used to quiet eating times, or at the very least, quieter. Before Ellie, eating times often remained silent, rushed, especially when you were out on a trip with Joel and Tess. There hadn’t been time to chat. Even when Ellie had tagged along, it wasn’t too loud, because she was mostly forced to talk to herself.

With the Millers, it remained somewhat peaceful at dinner time, the occasional teasing before you focused on shoving your food into your mouth, never quite getting the hang of slowing down. After all, you’d always lived life in a rush, constantly forced to hurry up when eating to save daylight.

In the hall, people laughed and talked and even shouted. It was off putting for you, and you couldn’t quite grow comfortable around it, even when you tried to sit as far away from the rowdy groups as you could, taking a table that sat right along the edge of the room, opposite where you grabbed food.

Most people in the town gravitated towards the noise, crowding in the middle of the room, which was why you were so surprised when you saw someone sit down at the other side of your table, placing a plate in front of them and gazing at you from the corner of their eye.

You looked up from your plate, eyebrows furrowed when you looked at the boy sat opposite, confused why he sat at your table when there were still multiple free.

“Hi.” He said, a grin on his face, and he tapped restless fingers against the table, waiting for your response.

“…Hi.” You replied after a minute, though it came out as more of a question, your confusion evident through both your voice and your expression. The boy grinned wider, and held a hand out over his plate.

“I’m Jesse!” Jesse told you, shaking your hand firmly when you slowly reached toward his extended palm.

“Okay?” You said, watching with even further befuddlement as the boy picked up his cutlery, and began eating, looking at you expectantly. With a slight huff of an awkward breath, you told him your own name, your eyes darting around the room as he grinned widely, showing off some of the half-chewed food in his mouth.

He stayed at your table for the entire meal, until eventually he was waved away by somebody sat toward the middle of the hall. He’d been mostly quiet, other than a comment here or there which hadn’t required a response, mostly talking about how loud the other residents were. When he left, he waved wildly, not faltering even as your hand remained on the table.

You blinked down at your empty plate, completely perplexed by what had just happened.

Two days later, in the dinner hall during lunch time, it happened again. Jesse sat opposite you, his plate full of food in front of him, and he grinned in your direction, as if it answered all of your questions.

“You know, it’s much nicer in here during lunch.” He commented, looking around at the slightly quieter room, his gaze lingering on the group sat in the middle of the room. Jesse moved his eyes to look at you, almost expectantly.

“I guess.” You answered, after a moment of reluctance, and shoved another forkful of food into your mouth when Jesse grinned with a shake of his head.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” Jesse asked, amused. When you just shrugged your shoulders, hoping he’d take the hint, he continued. “Y’know, I don’t really see you around town much. I’m quite the social butterfly.” He snickered at his own words. “You don’t even eat here every day.”

“Yeah, and?” You asked, voice snarky and matching your unimpressed expression.

“Just saying.” He said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, or so you had thought. “Where do you live?”

“Isn’t that a creepy thing to ask?”

Jesse put his hands up, tilting his head and clearly trying his best to give an innocent look. “No, it’s a small town. Most people know just because everyone is a neighbour’s neighbour.”

“Clearly not that small.” You said, and he snickered again at your response, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Guess not.” He shrugged, shoving more food into his mouth, and you stared at him for a moment longer, before getting back to eating your own food.

It continued like that for three weeks after the first time Jesse sat with you — he’d sit opposite you, comment about the dining hall, maybe tell a joke or two. He’d ask you questions that you wouldn’t give a clear answer to, and you’d raise your eyebrows at him for all of his strange behaviours. You thought he would’ve caught on that you weren’t all too interested in entertaining him, but each time you were in the hall, he sat at your table.

You hadn’t realised quite how used to his presence you had become until you were sat in the dining hall one evening, and he didn’t show up. You tried to pretend that you weren’t searching for his face each time the doors swung open, but realised it was likely obvious you were searching for someone.

For two days, he hadn’t showed. You pretended you weren’t concerned.

Until it came to the third day, where you had arrived to the dining hall late after facing questions from Tommy as to why you weren’t eating at theirs as often, and there he was. Sat at the table you usually occupied, his head snapping up the moment you swung the door open.

You sighed, something closer to relief than annoyance, because you didn’t mind his mindless comments. As much as it surprised you, you didn’t find his presence all that off-putting.

As soon as you had grabbed your own plate of food, you made your way over, sitting opposite Jesse. He perked up at your presence, lowering his fork from where it had been pushing food around his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw his face, littered in cuts and scrapes, a plaster covering his forehead.

“What happened?” You asked, before you could think better of it, and he rolled his eyes with that all too familiar grin.

“Aw, you worried about me?” He teased, his hand shooting out to grab your arm when you reached to pick up your plate, moving to stand. His teasing stopped quickly, and a smile quirked at your lips. “Okay, okay. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” You reasoned, slightly amused already at the prospect of whatever humiliating thing had gotten Jesse in such a rough shape.

“I… fell off of a horse.” Jesse said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, despite the way he immediately frowned, defensive. You probably shouldn’t be laughing — given that the one lesson of horse riding you’d had with Tommy hadn’t gone so well. “It’s not funny!” He defended, but a smile was creeping up on his face.

“It’s kinda funny.” You responded, still grinning at the image of Jesse just going face first off of a horse. “Okay, it’s really funny.”

“You…” Jesse trailed, shaking his head. “After all my jokes, me falling off of a horse is what makes you laugh?”

You shrugged, an amused look on your face, and said, “Maybe you need to get better jokes.”

Jesse gasped in offence, holding a hand to his chest as if the words had physically pained him, and you shook your head at his dramatics. You were glad he was okay, because you almost enjoyed his presence, on occasions.

“So this is why you wanted to come to the dining hall, huh?” Came a voice from your left, and you snapped your head over to look at Tommy with widened eyes. He was grinning, a teasing smile growing wide on his face, and he laughed. “Oh, I cannot want to tell Maria.”

“Tommy!” You hissed, scolding, your cheeks growing warm at his words. It wasn’t like that — you just wanted to know if Jesse was okay. You mildly enjoyed his jokes, sue you, and it was nice to be around a non-Miller, even for just under an hour a day. “What are you doing here?” You asked, dropping your cutlery onto your plate and glaring at the man.

“Thought I’d save Maria cookin’ and grab some food from here.” He snickered, “Had no idea what I’d be walking into.”

“Oh, are you—” Jesse started, but you cut him off with a stern look.

“No. Tommy, go away.” You ignored the way Jesse was laughing to himself, his grin wide as he looked between you and the Miller man. “Shut up, Jesse.”

“How’s the injury?” Tommy asked, amused, his grin widening when you looked between the two of them, confused. You were sure your face couldn’t get warmer — you would never live this down, you were sure. Tommy wasn’t one to let things go.

“Better,” Jesse grumbled, and you felt the slightest bit better that he felt embarrassed over his horse-related injury. “Had her worried, apparently.”

“I was not worried.” You defended, immediately, and turned to glare at Tommy, repeating your words. He just gave you a disbelieving look. “I hate you both. I’m going home.”

You stood, grabbing the plate of food and heading towards the stack of dirtied dishes. You ignored the way the two of them were still snickering behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jessie called out to you, almost shouting your name, his grin not faltering even as you sent him a dirty look over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, standing and following you, with Tommy trailing behind whilst shaking his head.

“Don’t you have a wife to feed?” You asked Tommy, eyebrows raised, and grinned tightly when he swore, heading over to get a serving for himself and Maria. “And you, go away.” You told Jesse, looking at him flatly when he just smiled at you some more, clearly very entertained by Tommy’s arrival.

“Why’re you embarrassed? You’re allowed to have friends!” Jesse responded, following behind you as you scraped off the remnants of food on your plate.

“We’re not friends.” You grumbled, shoving the cutlery into the elected trays, before placing the dirty plate on top of a pile of three.

“Hmm, I don’t believe that. You like me.” Jesse laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face even as you shook your head, making your way to the exit. “It’s true! We are friends. Admit it!”

You rolled your eyes, the smile tugging at the edge of your lips, but you refused it, not wanting Jesse to have the satisfaction.

He followed you out of the dining hall, still going on, “Admit it!” In a sing-song voice. It was incredibly annoying.

“Nothing to admit. Now go away.” You responded, turning your head to look at him as he followed along. “I could be leading you to a dark alleyway to murder you, you know.”

“You wouldn’t. You know why?”

“Why’s that?” You asked dryly.

“Because we’re friends.”

You scoffed out a laugh, unable to help it, because he really was kind of contagious. You stopped, turning fully around to see him grinning to himself.

“If I agree, will you go away?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, forcing your expression to flatten into something closer to serious.

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” You drawled, rolling your eyes, “You, the weird guy who sits at my table uninvited all the damn time, are my friend.” Despite the way you had described him, Jesse still smiled blindingly at your admission, his whole face lighting up.

“I knew it!” Jesse yelled, putting his arms in the air victoriously, and you shook your head, holding the bridge of your nose with one hand as he cheered. “You couldn’t resist my charming nature, beautiful looks, and unbeaten survival skills.”

You looked flatly at him, “You’re annoying, look like shit, and the only skill you’ve shown off, is how many pieces of bread you can fit in your mouth without choking.”

“Wow, harsh.” Jesse said, though his grin didn’t fall.

“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Tommy said, making you both turn to see him, two boxes of food held in his hand. He grinned, and nodded his head toward you. “She’s a softie, really.”

Your flat look just made Jesse snicker, and you shot him a glare. “You’re both annoying.”

“Mhm, whatever. Now get. Maria will wanna see you. Get yourself home, Jesse.” Tommy said, shooing Jesse away and shaking his head as the boy shot off with a wave, and a “See you later, friend.”

“I’m coming to yours, then?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs when he moved to stand at your side. “Asshole.”

“Hey! Watch your language!” He scolded, though there was no force to the words.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.” You snickered, shooting him an amused look at the joke you’d made, before you continued on in the direction of his house. You missed the way he raised eyebrows, something like shock on his face.

“God, I am gettin’ old.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head before he set off behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“This is so unfair.” Jesse told you, sulking as he walked by your side, loose stones crunching underneath your feet. You just smile, almost smug, as you turn your head to see his frown.

“It’s not unfair.” You said, rolling your eyes when Jesse only pouts, slowing his pace to keep up with your own. “I’m just better. And Tommy can’t say no to me.”

Jesse slows as you approach the stables, seeing Tommy stood impatiently, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for you to meet him. When he stops, you stop, turning to the boy who had adopted the tendency to follow you wherever you went.

“Be careful.” He warned, expression turning serious, though his pout remained.

“Jesse, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” You told him, waving off his concern with a casual pat to his arm. He frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, calm down.”

“I’m calm!” He defended, a pitch too high to actually make the statement believable. “Can’t believe you get to go out on actual patrols. I’m still stuck on stupid kid training.”

“You are a stupid kid.” You snickered when he shoved your shoulders. “You’ll be out there with me, soon enough.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, about to respond when Tommy called your name, his impatience growing, and he moved to walk over. “I’m coming!” You yelled back to him, huffing at his impatient nature. “I’ll see you later, okay? To tell you all about my badass shooting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t die.” Jesse said, and you waved him away as you made to go over to where Tommy was looking at his wrist expectantly. You snickered.

“You do know you’re not wearing a watch, right?” You asked as you approached the man, taking the rifle he held out for you without a second thought. You put it over your shoulder.

“Don’t need to be wearin’ one to know that you’re late.” He scolds in response, and you roll your eyes, not paying him much mind seeing as you were before the time he’d actually told you. Tommy just liked to complain.

With a scoff, you followed him into the stables, where the man working there for the day handed off two horses. He passed you the reigns to a dark brown horse, and you smiled, petting her on the nose.

The walk down to the gate was quiet, and you pretended not to notice Tommy glancing at you multiple times out of the corner of your eye. You knew what he was hoping for, but he wouldn’t be getting it today.

A group of those on patrol had already gathered, only a few missing, and you huffed at how early these people liked to be. The assignments had been handed out already, and a woman came over to whisper your assignment to Tommy, giving him a tight smile after she had glanced at you.

“You sure about this, kid? No shame in backin’ out, goin’ home.” Tommy told you, sighing heavily when you shook your head immediately.

“I’m doing this, Tommy. Where we headed?” You asked, watching people start to get on their horses, and head out of the now-open gate.

“C’mon. Goin’ on a trail through the woods, got a cabin out there, needs checking out.” He told you, helping you get onto the horse as you struggled to get up. You got comfortable on the saddle, smiling at him.

With a heavy sigh, he got on his horse, and led the way out of the gate.

You’d guess that he had staked out this route before he allowed you on it. It was tame, barely a sound in the woods other than a few birds chirping away. You shouldn’t have been surprised, it was definitely a Tommy thing to do. Well, a Miller thing, if you thought about it. You knew Joel had done the same thing back when you’d been with him and Tess at the QZ, before he’d let you come on any smuggling trips.

You didn’t mind it, really.

The gun still slung over your shoulder was a comforting weight, and you were just glad to be holding a weapon once again. It was heavier than the ones you were used to, contained more ammo than you could’ve dreamed of, back in the QZ days. It felt good.

Tommy stared at the woods around you, glaring as if he was daring anything to come out of them. It was almost funny. If you weren’t on edge, surveying your surroundings, you might’ve laughed. But you were on this patrol only because he had allowed it, and you were going to prove yourself.

The cabin Tommy had told you about finally came into view, after around an hour of riding, and you raised your eyebrows. You were expecting it to be… more intact, for whatever reason.

With walls made up of rotten wood, and a half burnt down barn, it definitely fit the image of a shack, rather than a cabin. The door was on the ground in front of the frame, and the fence surrounding the property may as well not be there, with how many gaps were in it.

“Well… it’s something.” You offered, pausing your horse behind Tommy’s as he stopped, staring ahead.

“Okay, let’s check it out. We’ll leave them here.” He told you, gesturing towards the horses as he swung his leg over his own, stepping onto solid ground. You did the same, letting Tommy grasp your bicep to keep you steady as you managed to get down. He took the reins of your horse, tying it loosely to a branch not far from his own horse. “Got your knife, too?” He asked, when watching you grasp your gun.

“No, Tommy, you forget that you guys took all my stuff when I first got to town?” You drawled, looking flatly as him, and he returned your expression, rolling his eyes before relenting, giving you a switchblade he’d had shoved in his pocket. “What about you?”

He unsheathed a larger blade from his thigh, waving it in your direction, and you rolled your own eyes at him, reminding yourself to not care about his safety, next time.

You put the knife in your own pocket, and gripped your gun with firm fingers as you followed behind the Miller man, eyes set as you kept an ear out for anything moving around.

The floorboards to the cabin creaked as he stepped inside, and you both cringed, stilling. When nothing came around the corner to try and kill you, Tommy glanced back at you, nodding to continue. The good thing was that there were no signs of clickers, no telltale clicking or stumbling feet. However, from somewhere in the cabin, something was groaning.

“You stick behind me, okay?” Tommy told you, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Not that you would have argued, anyway, because you knew better. You’d rather be stuck in the backseat than him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to protect you. With your confirming nod, he sighed quietly, before continuing on with practiced light footsteps.

You raised your gun higher when the sound steadily grew louder, and Tommy grew tense as the two of you got closer. Finally reaching the room, Tommy peered into the doorway, his expression showing that he’d seen the Infected responsible for all the noise. You peeked between his shoulder and the door when he moved closer, gun raised toward the thing’s head.

It was newly turned, you would’ve guessed, as it still sounded almost human as it cried. The hair on its head hadn't thinned as it usually did with time, and on its arm, you could see the dried blood around where those raised marks originated — the bite. You wondered if the one that bit it was still around, or if this thing had had the sense to shoot it while it had been human.

Stepping into the room, Tommy pulled the trigger, as the Infected turned its head at the noise, mouth opening to let out a shout before it was interrupted by the bullet. You jumped, not expecting the sudden gunshot noise, and you had forgotten just how loud the sound actually was.

Everything was silent for a moment after, both of you holding your breath as you waited for something else to happen. When it was clear after a few seconds, Tommy approached the body, patting pockets and pulling out a small box of pistol ammo, which he stuffed into his own pocket. The thing didn’t have a gun on it, surprisingly. You wondered if it would’ve been here if it had had a gun on it, but chose not to voice that.

When there was a resounding cry, echoing around the hollow wooden walls, Tommy thought his heart was going to stop. There was a door on the wall beside the one you had entered, and he couldn’t tell which way the sound was coming from.

“The corner.” You suggested, nodding over to the corner of the room, so you could have a clear view of both doors, the only possible entrances. Tommy nodded, ushering you over first, and he followed, raising his gun towards the door on the left, while he nodded you toward the one on the right.

Something clattered to the floor in the cabin, and you breathed steadily form your nose, adjusting your grip on the gun just slightly, and keeping your eyes locked onto the doorway.

It let out another yell, much closer than it had been earlier, and Tommy kept his own gun trained on the left doorway. When it smacked into something nearby, Tommy pressed his finger over the trigger, waiting.

The Infected stumbled into the right door, and the gunshot echoed throughout the room, with Tommy letting out a harsh breath as he watched you lower your smoking gun slightly, looking over the top of it to check the thing stayed down. It did.

“Nice going, kid.” Tommy said, slightly begrudgingly, but he couldn’t help feeling something like pride in his chest. You were a good kid, and he hadn't doubted you, but you hadn't let him down. You were as good of a shot in real-life situations as you were in simulated ones. Moving targets didn't prove to be an issue. However, it did mean that he had no excuse for keeping you off of the patrols he’d promised to allow you on.

You smiled. “Told you so.” You said, and raised your gun, looking through the doorway to the left as Tommy searched the second Infected’s pockets for anything of use. Coming up empty handed, he followed you through the second door, watching as you searched through drawers, the room being a dead end. You waved a box of rifle ammunition at him triumphantly. “Better check the rest of the place.”

He nodded, and you went back to following behind him, glad that at least his tense shoulders had loosened the slightest bit after the show of your skill. You could understand his nerves — you wouldn’t like to have a kid completely reliant on you, either. But you could take care of yourself.

Finally, Tommy realised that, too.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel burst into the Miller home, Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect. His brother had changed over the years, much like he had, and while they remained close, things between them hadn’t been the same since Sarah. Joel hadn’t been the same.

His eyes were wide, his hair unruly, and Tommy realised he’d probably just woken up after taking the night patrol. Joel usually prided himself on being in control during stressful situations, but he was definitely not composed.

“What are you doing here, Joel?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to the man, holding his son in his arms. He had hoped that they could bond over this — fatherhood — but Joel had remained somewhat distant, steering clear of the baby Miller. He wasn’t expecting Joel until later on, an hour or two, at the least, when him and Ellie were meant to be joining Tommy and Maria for dinner, whilst you dined at the dining hall with your new friend.

“I ask you to keep her safe, that’s all I asked of you, and now you’re letting her on patrols?” Joel spat, his voice loud, and Tommy’s son stirred in his arms, distressed at the shouting.

He should’ve expected this — part of him did, which was probably why Tommy hadn’t told Joel about it, even when he asked what had caused you to storm out of the house, all those days ago. Tommy sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in annoyance.

“She asked to go, Joel, I’m not gonna shield her from the world.” Tommy reasoned, shifting his son to hold in one hand, now that he had stirred from where he had been falling asleep. Tommy supposed he’d be missing his afternoon nap, now. They were going to have a grumpy child on their hands, in the coming hours.

“She’s seen enough of the world, Tommy! Why do you think I left her here? You think that was for nothin’?” Joel responded, immediately, a hot feeling settling heavy on his neck as he looked at his brother. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed by leaving you behind, for what? For his little brother to go over his head, and disregard those decisions? You would barely even speak to him. It hurt, and it carved a pain in his chest that was only rivalled by the loss of his first daughter.

Joel thinks of those times he’d tried to reach out, tried to help you understand, and thinks of how you had rejected each attempt. The most civil interaction he’d had with you was delivering that food after the argument you’d had with Tommy — and the two of you had barely spoken.

He thinks of how this might be the rest of his life — reaching for you, and watching you turn away.

Joel knew he’d do it all again in a split second, if it kept you safe. He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if you had joined them, didn’t want to think about the time he had almost lost Ellie, didn’t want to imagine it could’ve been both of you.

Tommy feels bad, for a moment, but he knows that you’re capable of being out there. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shoving you out of the gates on your own! The moment you gave him an inkling of the idea that you didn't want to be out there, he’d be stopping the patrols.

“Joel,” Tommy sighed, because part of him feels pity for his older brother, who struggles far more than he lets on, but he also understands your anger. Two sides of the same coin. “Nobody’s sayin’ that was for nothing. But she’s not some little kid, alright? And I was with her the whole time, nothing was gonna happen to her.”

“You’re not invincible, Tommy,” Joel said, his brows furrowed, and he doesn’t halt himself even as he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, likely drawn by the commotion he’d caused. “And neither is she. God damn it, Tommy.” He raised his hand, holding the bridge of his nose as he turned away from his little brother, trying to gain back some of his composure.

Maria stepped around him, cautiously taking the baby from Tommy’s grip, and said, “What’s going on down here?” She looked between the two brothers, waiting for somebody to answer her.

“He doesn’t want her goin’ on patrols.” Tommy said at last, after silence had lingered for too long, and he didn’t need to say much else for Maria to know who he was talking about.

“Trust me, Joel, I wasn’t thrilled about it, either.” Maria spoke, going to say some more before Joel cut her off, his hand moving from his face to gesture wildly in front of him.

“She’s just a kid!” Joel yelled out, unable to help himself. He thinks back to when the raiders came, to the way panic had gripped him as he shoved Ellie across the street toward his brother’s, and had set off toward the ceramic shop. He remembered his heart beating so wildly in his chest that he thought it might give out, especially when he caught sight of a raider, the gear too reminiscent of a night so long ago, a light shining in his eyes, blinding him, until all he could hear was Sarah. “Don’t you get it?” He asked, almost desperately.

“I get it, Joel.” Maria said, her voice so stern that Joel couldn’t interrupt, even if he had wanted to. He looked to the door on his left, catching sight of the names still written on that chalkboard, and he knows. He looked to Maria, and he could see it on her face. She knew, just as much as he did. “But it’s not our choice. All we can do is try to keep her safe, wherever she goes.”

It helps, for a moment, that there’s somebody who does understand, but then he’s just filled with something burning, and he turns away from the chalkboard before he can imagine your name written up there, next. “If she dies, that’s on you.” He spat, pointing an accusing finger at his younger brother, “And I’ll never forgive you for it.”

Tommy watched his brother turn away, slam the door shut so hard the walls shook, and feels the weight on his shoulders get heavier. He sighed, Maria’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to relieve the burden.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jesse’s hands were covered in wet clay, and you could only laugh as he cursed, baring his teeth at the wheel in front of him, covered in splatters of clay. “How the…” He started, trailing off and sputtering when he pressed too hard on the pedal, making a watery clay fly in all directions, including straight to his face.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that.” You told him, pulling him away from the stool he was sat on, and watching the spinning slow to a stop, Jesse’s miserable attempt at pottery left looking even worse when you could actually see it. He was sulking, you knew before even facing him, and couldn’t help but snicker.

“Oh, shut up. Not everyone can be a damn… whatever you are.” Jesse retorted, glaring at you as your snicker turned into a laugh as he failed to find a phrase for you. “Okay, stop laughing. Stop! It’s not funny!”

You continued grinning at him, as he washed his hands clean of clay remnants, and watched as he dried them on a rag left by the sink. “Oh, come on Jesse, you should know by now that your misery brings me the most joy and entertainment.” You said, smiling sweetly at the boy who had quickly grown comfortable in your space.

When you had actually invited him, you couldn’t recall, but he had a way of just inviting himself into places. You didn’t mind it all that much, despite how tired you were after going on patrol. You were pretty sure that it was from the faded adrenaline, the rush of being back in the real world leaving you wiped out. It had been more than a few months by now since you had been out there, travelling and facing those things every day.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He asked, jokingly, pouting at where you were scraping his failed creation off of the wheel, throwing the clay in the bucket beside the machine, where you usually threw your own failed attempts.

“Hey, you know where the door is.” You replied, not turning to look at him despite finishing cleaning the wheel as you said it. You didn't want to think about the truth of the words, or why the concept made your chest ache in a painfully familiar way. Why did you do this to yourself?

“Not going anywhere,” Jesse said, a hint of truth to his words, and you turned to glance at him, if only to give him a raised eyebrow in response. “I mean, who else is gonna tell me the story of their very first patrol?”

You shook your head at him, despite the way his words relieved the ache the smallest bit, and sighed. “I mean, when you put it that way…” You trailed, rolling your eyes when he sat himself down on another stool, leaning forward and looking at you like he was a child, waiting for story time.

As you told the story, you made it more dramatic, just for his sake, though it was entertaining you, too, even if you wouldn’t admit that aloud.

Tommy, stood outside the shop door, listened as you told it, feeling that weight on his shoulders pull him down further as you got closer to the end of your tale, laughter shared between you and Jesse at the exaggerated details. He laid his head against the frame, sighing heavily when he caught your final words, “You should’ve seen it, man. We were the dream team. Fighting off Infected, saving the cabin, one bullet at a time.”

Jesse laughed, and you joined, sure the grin on your face would never be wiped away in that moment. “You gotta convince him to bring me!”

“Hm, maybe one day, asshole.” You responded, rolling your eyes at the pleading expression Jesse was sending your way.

“Come on, I’m a way better shot than I am… potter-er.” He justified, sighing when you laughed at his choice of words, echoing it in a disbelieving tone.

Tommy walked away from the shop, unsure what to do about the weight that was getting too heavy for his aged joints.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had been around four months since you had started doing patrols, but only two weeks since you’d been doing them without Tommy. Spring had been leaking into summer when you had started, but now, the days were dropping colder, clouds looking heavier by the day.

This morning, you felt an inkling of nerves as you looked to the sky, worried about it finally storming, like the sky had been threatening for the past few days. You hated when your worries were proved correct.

“Shit, it’s getting bad out here.” You said loudly, squinting your eyes to see through the quickly-thickening snow that was falling. It was settling against the ground in deep blankets, surprisingly quickly. You didn’t think this winter would be as bad as last years, but it seemed you were proved wrong there, at least.

“Should we go find shelter?” Jesse yelled back from behind you, his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his horse as close to yours as he could.

“I don’t know if these buildings have been cleared!” You responded, feeling your heart thrum heavily in your chest as you looked through the falling snowflakes at the buildings around you. They were mostly houses, with one building that looked like it could’ve held offices.

“What other option do we have?” Jesse asked. You huffed, surprising yourself as you agreed with his thought process — you were at risk the longer you stayed out here, and the horses might not make it all the way back to Jackson. Especially as the snow on the ground got thicker, your horse getting nervous as she treaded through it. You patted her neck as soothingly as you could, looking back towards where Jesse was following, and you hated how you regretted convincing Tommy to let him come along.

You were meant to be travelling with another patroller from Jackson, but he had turned back a while ago, complaining of a stomach issue. You grit your teeth, recalling how he had nervously surveyed the clouds as the first sprinkle of snow had appeared. He had convinced Jesse it would be fine to go along without his guidance, and you hated how the two of you had trusted his judgement.

“Okay,” You relented, turning your horse to head towards a house opposite the office building. “That one’s got a garage! We can get the horses in there.”

Jesse followed you as you led the way, and you huffed a breath that disappeared between falling snowflakes, nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You got off of your horse, handing the reins to Jesse where he was perched upon his own, and you hefted the garage door up with a bit of difficulty, cringing at the way the metal screeched. You peered underneath, seeing no sign of Infected as it got halfway, but your head snapped up when you heard something in the distance, barely there over the swirling winds.

“We good?” Jesse urged, his teeth chattering, and you looked at him before nodding, lifting the garage door up the rest of the way. He pulled your horse alongside him as he rode inside, and you pulled the door shut behind you as you followed.

The temperature wasn’t much better in the garage, but the lack of snow falling on you certainly helped. You let out a deep breath, watching it cloud the air in front of your face, and let your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“You okay?” Jesse asked hesitantly, pulling his wet gloves from his hands and rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth.

“Yeah,” You responded, almost absently, and looked up when Jesse said your name, “Just— Just thinking of how Tommy’s gonna kill that asshole, when he gets back without us.”

Jesse smiled, scoffing out a slight laugh despite the situation, and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, he’s dead meat.” He let a moment of silence pass, not wanting to voice the thought that you’d also just had, that Tommy might not be back in Jackson, either. He was sent on a route in the opposite direction, to take out a dozen Infected with a small group of others. Jesse cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into his pocket. “So, when we get back, I was thinking…”

“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” You interrupted, grinning at the roll of his eyes.

“I was thinking,” He repeated, “Maybe I should introduce you to my friend, Dina.”

You raised your eyebrows, snickering at the nerves in his tone as he suggested it. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to meet your friend Dina.” You reminded, after you had seen him trying to chat the girl up. You thought she had seemed into it, but apparently that meant you weren’t allowed to meet her, lest you embarrass Jesse in front of his crush.

“I have reconsidered. Shut up.” He responded when you snickered. “Don’t make me change my mind!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d love to meet her.” You said, continuing to grin when he groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, clearly regretting making the suggestion already. He was pretty sure the two of you would team up against him. “You sit there and suffer, I’m gonna check the house out.”

Jesse frowned, moving to follow you, but you waved him away, knowing that he was annoyingly better with the horses. You thought of what had happened to him when you’d not long become friends, and grinned to yourself.

You held your gun up as you left the garage, looking in each room carefully, methodically, like you had done it hundreds of times before. You didn’t keep count, so really, you might have.

The house was empty, of almost everything, clearly ransacked a long time ago. At least a few years, you would’ve guessed, looking at the way dust and cobwebs had settled on ruined furniture, cracked family photos. You picked a broken frame up, twisting it in your hand, and frowned as you saw the way the crack marred the faces of the family in the photo.

Upstairs was arguably worse, the bedrooms completely destroyed, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the family who had lived here was still alive. You were sure they would hate to see what had become of what had once been their home, so part of you hoped they weren’t.

You looked at a wardrobe that had been completely disassembled, clothes torn out and strewn across the floor, old sentimental pieces left to rot on the dusty carpet. You stepped towards the window, moving aside the blue curtain, and peered outside at the worsening storm. You squinted at the ground, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, until you saw that the footprints were definitely there.

And they were coming from the opposite way you and Jesse had appeared from, heading straight toward the front door.

With a new sense of urgency, you gripped the gun in your hand tightly, stepping down the stairs as quickly as you could without completely giving away your presence. You peered around the corner, seeing a mass of black clothes moving outside the frosted glass of the front door.

“Jesse!” You hissed, stepping into the garage and watching him jump where he had been petting your horse’s neck. He stood straighter, eyebrows furrowing as you shut the garage door gently behind you, gripping your gun as if your life depended on it. “We’ve got company. We need to get out of here.”

He nodded, shoving down his fear and starting to grasp the reins of the horses, beginning the frustratingly slow process of turning them around in such a small space. “How long?”

“Not long enough.” You acknowledged, ear pressed to the door leading to the rest of the house, and you heard the doorknob rattle. “Get the horses ready, I’ll buy us some time.”

Jesse said your name nervously, but you shot him down, urging him to just do what you say with a look he hadn't seen before in your eyes. You opened the door, peering around the corner the slightest bit, gun aimed towards the door. You took a deep breath, steadying your aim as they finally got it open, two rushing in immediately.

The first one went down, dropped to the floor with a single bullet to the neck, and you tried to tune out the way he gargled. The woman who followed him ducked to the side, pressing against it, and you shot the third person who peered around the doorway, saying nothing when they yelled out a curse, injured, but not dead.

You didn't know how many there were. That was making you more nervous than you could comprehend, especially as you shot a fourth who tried to enter, watching her fall to the snow outside, and trying not to focus on the blood that stained the white blanket when somebody dragged her body out of the way.

A shot far too close to you made you duck back into the garage, turning your head to see Jesse turning his horse the right way. He gave you a thumbs up when they were ready, and you nodded, flinching halfway through at the shot that settled in the wood just above your shoulder.

With a huff, you slammed the door shut, pulling a cabinet in front of it with a heave that made your arms ache, the wood far heavier than you had expected. It clattered in front of the door, stopping the people on the other side from entering as you heard several sets of footsteps rushing in, the moment the door closed.

“Get on!” You urged, reaching for the bottom of the garage door and heaving it open in one quick movement, grasping onto your horse and fighting the panic when you struggled to get on her. “Go!” You yelled to Jesse, following him a moment after when you were on your horse.

Blood was rushing through your ears, tinting the snow falling around you a faint red around the edges of your vision, and you gripped the reins tighter. When shots began firing from behind you, you leaned your chest down, closer to your horse, and tried to hurry her into going faster, unable to feel the pity you usually would for forcing speed in such terrible conditions.

A shot to the glass of the office building drew your attention, and you heard the glass shatter behind you, but your eyes were unable to turn back to see what followed when Jesse cried out, sliding off of his horse in the moment of shock.

You pulled your horse to a stop when his own rode off, too panicked to stop and wait for his rider. “Jesse!” You yelled, hand going low as you leaned to the side, using the hand he grasped onto you with to help get him on your own horse. “Come on, come on.” You urged again, your heart hammering as you saw the drops of blood that stained the snow where he had fallen. “You asshole, hold on!”

When Jesse grasped firmly onto you with one arm, you hurried your horse forward again, knowing it would only be more difficult for her with the added weight. As soon as you got to the forest cover, it would be okay, you had to assure yourself.

Groaning behind you only panicked you further, and you felt your pulse in your throat as shuffling in the snow grew louder, before some of the gunshots stopped coming, the sound of screams filling your ears.

It blurred in your mind, the moment you reached the tree cover, only just remembering to look back behind Jesse to check you weren’t being followed when you had travelled for a few minutes. You felt Jesse slipping before he could say anything about it, and you had to stop the horse when he slipped so far you only just stopped him from falling. You couldn’t remember doing it, but you eventually got him draped over the horse in front of you, and you held a hand firmly on him as you urged the horse to go faster.

Getting back to Jackson was the easiest part, with the route melded into your mind, and despite the snow that covered everything, you knew the way.

The lookouts didn’t see you until you were almost at the gate, where they yelled for you to be let in. Multiple people poured out, helping you get Jesse off of the horse as you dismounted, and watched them carry him in, with him managing only weak steps where he was held up between two shoulders. When Tommy rushed up to you, his hands grasping your face, you wondered if Jesse had been speaking to you, that whole time, because at first, you couldn’t hear his voice.

“Are you hurt? Kid, are you hurt?” He demanded, tapping a hand against your cheek when your eyes drifted to where Jesse disappeared between the gates.

You shook your head, “‘M fine. We— we got ambushed, they’re still out there.” You responded almost absently, letting out a harsh exhale and feeling Tommy’s hands fall from your face, as he swore and brought a hand up to his head. “What? What is it?” You asked, your attention finally caught.

“Joel, he went out after you.” Tommy replied, reluctantly, and you felt your heart drop.

“What?” You asked, wanting him to repeat it to ensure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, that this hadn’t been the breaking point. “Joel’s out there?” When Tommy nodded, a sense of urgency went through you, and you stepped back, grasping the reins of your horse from whoever had grabbed hold of them.

You shuffled your way atop the horse, getting on and turning her around before Tommy could quite comprehend what you were doing. His eyes widened and he stepped towards you, hands out, pleading, and you hated the look on his face as you rode away.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your name being called in the distance caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the sound, where it was being yelled between gunshots. You swore, and rode on further, until you could finally see what faced you.

From the tree line, you could see the bodies of the people who had attempted to ambush you, half trampled by the horde of over a dozen Infected, which were swarming around as they were picked off slowly, from a house to the side of the one you had been in. You saw the glint of a gun coming from the shattered window of the living room.

Holding the reins still, you grasped onto your gun, adjusting your grip to accommodate the leather in your hand. You fired a single shot into the face of one of the runners, who was making too much progress in getting toward the window. You could only hope that it was Joel, as the sound of your name had fallen to a pause.

Between you and who you hoped was Joel, the hoard was picked off in no time, with them barely paying you any attention from your spot in the distance. Only one had come toward you, and it was dead before you could even change your aim.

“Joel?” You yelled, nerves making your throat clog up, and you squinted through the falling snow that had slowed during your shooting. “Joel?” You shouted again, louder that time, pushing past the lump in your throat.

He responded, calling your name, and you slid off of your horse, wrapping the reins around a branch and rushing to head towards the sound. When you peered through the broken window, stepping around bodies of humans and Infected alike, you saw him there, hand gripping tightly over a bleeding wound in his thigh. Joel’s shoulders fell when he saw you, a breath of relief leaving him, rushing out in a cloud that blocked the image of his face for a moment.

You stepped through the window frame, hissing when broken glass nicked your palm, and you held out your hand to help him stand. His bare hand grasped your gloved one, and you frowned for a moment, before focusing on pulling him to his unsteady feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, after he was finally stood on his own feet without your assistance. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

He said your name, and you whirled around to face him fully from where you had turned towards the doorway. “Please, let’s…”

“Let’s what, Joel?” You questioned, desperation leaking into the tone of your voice. “Let’s hug and make up after you almost got yourself killed? Is that it?”

“I came out here to help you!” He defended, looking at you with a pleading expression, his hand covered in blood as he pressed it harder against his leg.

“I didn’t need your help, Joel!” You yelled, hands waving in the air in your exasperation. “I had it covered. I’m not that same kid that needed saving, don’t you get that? You saved me. You already saved me, so why do you keep trying to get a do over?”

He gaped at you, for a moment, and couldn’t answer.

Joel thought of you, the face that was so much different from the one that looked at him now, thought of the way you had clung to him and Tess, as if your life depended on it. He supposed, it might’ve. He wonders if that’s why it hurt so much, that you pulled away, that it was an admission that you didn’t need him.

You stared at him, the man who had held on to you back at Boston QZ, who had done that despite the way it made his skin crawl, made his heart race. You knew now that he must’ve thought of his daughter, each time you looked to him with scared eyes, looked to him for answers, for protection. Knew that he must’ve been stuck in that day, all those years before, where he had failed at the first daughter who had looked to him that way.

“Please,” Joel repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say, or do, other than beg you for something he wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Did he want forgiveness? “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to. But look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, the way you gripped your gun where you had slung it over your shoulder, the way he held onto a bleeding wound. “All I ever do is fail you, again and again and again. I couldn’t keep doing it. I failed Tess. I failed Sam, Henry… I couldn’t fail you. Not again.”

You stared at him, at the open wound he wasn’t attempting to hide, and you couldn’t stop the pull of your lips as you bared your teeth at him, swallowing the lump in your throat that made your eyes sting. You wondered, then, if showing your own unhealed wound would change anything, but you didn't think it would. You didn’t think anything could change the distance between the two of you.

With the heart in your chest aching, though for what, you couldn’t decipher, you shook your head, tilting it up towards the water-stained ceiling of this house. “Joel, that isn’t…” You sighed, closing your eyes, knowing that his expression would make you crack. “No, it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to— to come back to Jackson, to come out here to protect me. You left me behind, so what? I’d be safe?”

His chest was painful, feeling so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever rise if he let his lungs empty, so he held his breath, staring at you as you refused to look at him.

“I was safest when I was with you.” You admitted, and Joel didn’t fail to notice the past tense of that sentence. “I was scared of losing you, of losing Ellie, like I had lost everybody else. I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to stay with you both. You made my fear come to life.”

Joel frowned, not moving as you stepped forward, finally looking at him, to point an accusing finger towards his chest. He said your name, wanting nothing more than to reach out for you, to hold you close and swear he’d keep you safe, but he was starting to realise your perspective. He was starting to realise that to you, he had failed. The moment he had left you behind, he had failed.

“And I hate you for it.” You added, arms falling to your sides, despite the way your fists clenched, just aching to hit him where it hurt, to not stop until he felt how you did.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, sure his next words would be the wrong ones, but he didn’t know what else he could say. “I’ll leave, if you want me to. I’ll go and I won’t come back, but only if you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you again.”

“You can’t just… put that on me.” You said desperately, turning to the window and taking another step away from him. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m not sure how much I want you to stay, either.”

Joel blinked away the tears that were coming to his eyes as he looked at you, feeling like the two of you were miles apart.

“I don’t forgive you.” You told him, gritting your teeth, “And I don’t know if I ever will, but I…” You trailed off, looking out to where your horse was still stood in the faltering snow, suddenly feeling a harsh pang of guilt for leaving her there. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Okay.” Joel agreed, unsure what else he could do. Maybe, you were right, and you wouldn’t ever forgive him. Maybe he would live out the rest of his days, with only memories of you, only catching a glimpse of you as he passed you in Jackson, with you not sparing him a glance, as if the two of you were strangers. He doesn’t know if he can quite cope with that.

He tried to hold some hope in the fact that you were here, you had come back out here, for him, as he followed you out of the door of the house, limping his way to your horse, frowning where his own had been taken down by the horde. He tried not to linger on the thought.

You settled behind him on your own horse, and it hurt his chest, thinking that this is the exact way the two of you had been when riding into Jackson the first time. He hoped everything didn’t fall apart again, like it had before.

When your forehead rested against his back, complete exhaustion falling heavily on your shoulders, Joel tried not to hope.

He had never been good at such things, when it came to you.

PART FIVE

▹ — if the door wasn’t shut taglist (all parts): @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats @kakimakiloh @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @poliars @esstark @bella820 @gtxbitch