#so much angst I gotta recover a little

[eggs-can-draw]

Doodles on stream with the discord!!! We got really angsty after like 30 minutes lmao

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 8. the return

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You help Joel recover from his injuries and you finally confront your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, mutual pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, descriptions of wounds/injuries, some smutty situations but nothing very explicit, dare I say fluff?

WC: 8.2K

Series Masterlist

"Joel, wake up."

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

"C'mon. You gotta get up."

"Five more minutes," he mumbled.

"Joel," you tried again, your voice sounding so far away. Why did you sound so far away? "Joel, please wake up. I need you."

You needed him. Okay. For you, he would wake up.

His eyelids fluttered.

"Joel?"

Your voice didn't sound so far away now.

"Joel? Can you hear me?"

Fuck, his head hurt. His side hurt. Everything fucking hurt.

Then he remembered.

He forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly as his pupils adjusted to the bright light until he focused on you. You.

You were so pretty. So, so pretty, standing next to his bed with that little worried crease between your eyebrows, leaning over him. You didn't need to be so worried. Don't be worried.

Your eyes brightened when he saw you and he slowly began to recognize where he was.

He was back in Jackson. At the infirmary, in a bed.

You jumped up, calling over your shoulder for Nick and Tommy before turning back to him and grasping his hand.

"Are you in pain?"

He didn't answer. He just stared at you, dumbfounded, his brain struggling to catch up. He squeezed your hand and you gave him a shaky smile.

Tommy and Nick barged into the room and you dropped his hand. Nick began to take his vitals while Tommy tried to stay out of the way, but Joel's focus remained on you. He watched as you drifted around the room on autopilot, handing Nick instruments and supplies from a table, then disappearing out into the hall when he asked you to get some medicine he had no idea how to pronounce.

"What's your pain like, Joel?" Nick asked, reading the blood pressure cuff.

He opened his mouth to answer but immediately started coughing. Tommy twisted around to grab the water bottle next to the sink and Nick lifted it to his lips. "Slow," he reminded him, so Joel sipped slowly then sat back with a sigh.

He was so tired.

"Your pain?"

Joel took a deep breath and winced.

"Ain't great," he croaked, voice all gravelly. You came back into the room and handed Nick the medicine, giving Joel a reassuring smile. God, he missed you so much.

He heard Nick ask you to fill a syringe for him and Joel watched you work, your hands steady and your breath even as you concentrated on getting the dosage exactly right.

"Joel? Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" he asked in a daze, dragging his eyes to his brother.

"I said, what the hell happened out there?" Tommy was pressed up against the wall, making himself as small as possible while you and Nick worked.

"Ran into some raiders- fuck!" he exclaimed when the needle entered his skin.

"Sorry," Nick murmured before pulling it out.

"Where?" Tommy asked, and Joel shook his head.

"Not 'round here. Out in California."

Everyone in the room paused to look at him.

"You got this fucked up out in Cali and you made it back?" Tommy asked in disbelief, and Joel slowly nodded his head. "Fuckin'... how?"

Joel's eyes found yours again, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a half smile.

"Had a guardian angel," he said, his eyelids beginning to droop.

"The hell does that mean?" Tommy asked. Joel pointed to his pack on the floor.

"Side pocket."

Nick lifted the blanket covering Joel's bare torso so he could inspect his wounds, which had been freshly cleaned and patched up in his sleep. Then he heard the telltale sound of pills rattling in a plastic bottle.

"You found meds out there?" his brother asked, rolling the bottle around in his palm before handing it over to Nick.

"Mhm," was all he said, then watched as you looked over Nick's shoulder to read the label. Your eyes went wide with surprise then looked up at him.

Your lips parted like you wanted to say something, then your gaze darted to the other two men in the room and you decided against it.

"This probably saved you from getting sepsis," Nick said before placing the bottle on the small table next to his bed. "I'm gonna need to keep you here for a bit," and as Joel began to protest, Nick held up his hand. "Just for a bit, I said. Til you get your strength up and I feel confident you don't got any infection or serious internal damage. Then you can go home and recover."

You could see the turmoil in Joel's face. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be in the comfort of his own bed after a week of putting himself through hell.

"I'll stay here overnight, keep an eye on him and come get you if anything seems off," you said, and all three men paused to look at you in surprise. You shrugged and cleared your throat. "Unless you don't-"

"No," Joel said, cutting you off. His throat felt so tight all of the sudden. "Please stay."

Nick and Tommy exchanged glances before shifting around the room, gathering used instruments and picking up Joel's discarded, bloody clothes.

"I'll grab the cot for you," Nick said on his way out the door.

"Do you need anythin' from home?" Tommy asked and you quickly shook your head.

"I'll be fine."

Joel wanted to tell you everything, but he could feel himself fading. Another time, he thought as you rolled out the cot on the floor next to his bed. You turned off the light before he drifted off to sleep, finally being able to properly rest now that he was back with you.

It took five whole days until Nick finally agreed to let him go home. You stayed with him every night, only going back home to shower and get fresh clothes once a day. It seemed like he was always surrounded by Tommy or Ellie or Nick and there was never a good time to talk to you. He wanted to tell you why he did what he did, he wanted to give you some comfort. But any time the two of you were alone, it was always too brief or he was asleep.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you were struggling with the same issue. You wanted to get some time alone together so you could talk to him about everything you had a chance to reflect on while he was gone, but you knew it would likely be a long and emotional conversation and you really didn't want to do it at work.

There was so much that needed to be said, but the rare few minutes you had alone together you spent holding his hand or feeding him or gently wiping the sweat off his forehead and chest with a wet washcloth. You hoped your actions spoke louder than the words you weren't brave enough to say.

Nick helped you restock your first aid kit at home while Tommy got Joel settled back in his bed. You could hear them talking from the hallway, Tommy scolding his brother when he didn't listen to him and he ended up wincing in pain.

"So you're gonna want to make sure he takes this twice a day with food," Nick said, handing you a bottle of orange pills. "For inflammation. Til you run out, then he should be good. And this is only if the pain gets intolerable," he handed you a small baggie of four white pills and narrowed his eyes. "Use them sparingly, we don't have much."

"I know."

"He shouldn't need any more antibiotics but be sure to take his temperature throughout the day and push the fluids. If the numbers get over 102 for more than four hours, come get me right away."

"Okay," you nodded, hoping your sleep deprived brain was absorbing everything.

"Maria agreed to help out at the infirmary for the next couple days, so take as much time as you need. You know I can manage without you," Nick said, and you gave him a feigned look of hurt. "I can manage, I said. Doesn't mean I prefer it," he told you with a roll of his eyes and you had a stifle a laugh. Tommy stepped out of Joel's room and joined you at the top of the stairs.

"All good?"

"I think so," you said, looking back down at the pills Nick gave you.

"You need anythin', you just holler, sugar," Tommy said and you gave him a tired smile in return. The two men walked down the steps and saw themselves out while you filled a glass with water from the sink in the bathroom, bringing it to Joel.

"How are you feeling?" you asked him for what felt like the millionth time in a week.

"Not bad," he said truthfully. You handed him the water and although he wasn't thirsty, he still drank it because it seemed to make you happy and he really liked when you took care of him.

You shifted your weight and glanced around the room awkwardly.

"Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you a book or something?"

Joel smiled and dropped his gaze to the floor. You were so fucking cute and it was killing him.

"I'm good."

"Good," you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to find another reason to stay. When you couldn't think of one, you sighed and hitched your thumb over your shoudler.

"I'll be right next door and I'll leave the doors open. If you need anything or if you're in pain-"

"I know," he said, giving you a soft smile as you tried your best to not stare at his bare chest peeking out from the top of the sheets.

"Okay, then," you said, backing out of the room. "Good night."

You had no idea how long you laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling while your mind raced and your fingers tapped anxiously against your chest. You couldn't sleep. It must have been hours because the light flicking off in Joel's room felt like ages ago and you hadn't heard any shuffling since.

It's this bed, you thought to yourself. It was the first time in a long time you slept in your own bed and you just couldn't get comfortable.

Or maybe you were too worried about him, even though it seemed like most of his strength was back. The color returned to his cheeks and he was able to stay awake most of the day. Deep down, you knew there wasn't a need to be concerned about him at that point. In all likelihood he was out of the woods. But you still felt the urge to check on him. Just in case.

You slid out of bed and tiptoed quietly out of your room, walking the few feet to Joel's door and leaning against the frame. You tried to observe him from a distance but it was hard to see in the dark, so you crept closer.

He was sound asleep, his hands resting peacefully over his soft stomach, his lips parted ever so slightly as he lightly snored. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at the other side of the bed. Deciding not to overthink it, you closed the door and silently made your way around the foot of the bed and slipped underneath the covers with a quiet sigh.

Just for a minute, you thought. You had just grown so accustomed to sleeping in his bed, that's all. But before you knew it, his steady breathing and soft pillows lulled you into a deep sleep.

The sun bled through the curtains, inching across the floorboards and slowly made its way up the sheets until it found your face, but you didn't wake. Instead, you buried your face deeper into the warmth underneath you, far too comfortable to bother waking up just yet.

Joel, however, had been awake before the sun even rose.

He had felt your arms wrapped around his waist at some point towards the early morning. He had managed to turn so your head rested against his bare chest while you continued to sleep so peacefully. It was far too tempting. He fucking ached for you for so long and to wake up and find you in his bed caused his heart to flutter wildly in his chest and all his blood to rush directly between his legs.

He had been doing okay. He was content with just holding you, feeling you, pretending things were back to normal, if only for a little while, but when you nuzzled into his chest and tightened your grip around his waist, he couldn't resist burying his nose in your hair and breathing in deep. He missed you so much it fucking hurt. It was torture, fighting the urge to pull you into him every day and crawl into bed with you at night. He knew it would backfire one day, all his pent up emotions. When Angie caught him during a particularly low point at the Tipsy Bison, drunk and sad and missing you so fucking much, it all blew up in his face. Kissing her was a mistake but he was just so goddamn lonely. He didn't realize how much he had come to depend on your touch to soothe him until he no longer had it.

He wouldn't make that mistake ever again.

He thought he ruined everything in one moment of weakness, but here you were, tucked safely into his side, sound asleep in his arms and he didn't even dare question what brought you into his bed because all that mattered was you were there now. And you made that decision yourself. You sought him out. You wanted to be with him.

Testing the waters, he carefully pressed a kiss on the top of your head, and when you didn't react, he did it again. Sliding his eyes closed, he dragged his lips a little lower, kissing your forehead while he savored the feeling of your breath fanning over his neck. Other than your fingertips fluttering slightly against his stomach, you still didn't move, so he kissed your forehead again. You were so warm and you smelled just like him that he quickly felt himself getting lost in his desire. His kisses became faster and more urgent, finally causing your breathing to change and your body to stir. He knew you were waking but he kept his eyes closed, too afraid of seeing apathy in the face that used to be filled with such love for him.

He was just setting himself up for more heartbreak but he couldn't seem to stop.

His lips traveled a little lower, pressing tenderly against your temple, bracing himself for when you would inevitably push him away. Maybe you weren't fully awake yet because you remained perfectly still, so he continued to take and take, his kisses becoming feverish as he brushed over your eyelids. God, he missed this so much. He missed these lazy mornings with you. They were rare, but on days neither of you had any other commitments you would lounge in bed for as long as your stomachs would allow, holding each other close, getting lost under the sheets.

His time was coming to an end now. Your arms loosened around his waist and soon you would realize where you were and who you were with and it would all be over. He breathed deeply, as if he could bottle you for later. Maybe his sheets would trap your scent. He really hoped they would. He could use another good night's sleep and having you at his side had always ensured that, but he could pretend as long as his pillow still smelled like you.

With his lips still roaming over your brow, you stretched your legs and let out a breathy little noise that made his cock twitch and his stomach tense. He kept his eyes screwed shut, hoping you would assume he was half asleep and therefore unaware of his lips dragging across your face. He didn't want to lie to you again but his heart could only handle so much rejection.

He felt your eyes flutter open, your eyelashes tickling his neck and he really should have stopped kissing you at that point, but it felt like he was spiraling out of control. Like his body had enough of constantly being denied what it craved.

You paused for a moment, giving your brain a chance to catch up. Figuring out where you were and why you were there. Any second now, you would pull away. He kept bracing for it, his heart thundering in his chest now that it knew time was running out, that this feeling of bliss was about to end and it was scrambling to hold on to every split second.

Thinking it would be the last chance, he kissed the corner of your eye and then your cheek. There was no way he would be able to pretend he was still asleep now, but he didn't care. He was growing frantic, his need for you overwhelming, even if this was all he could get, it would have to sustain him until he could figure out how to earn back your trust.

His eyes flew open when your lips pressed wetly against his neck. He froze, his mouth hovering over your ear, waiting to see what you would do next.

Then you did it again. Only this time, you sucked on a bit of his skin, leaving the beginnings of a red mark he would cherish for days.

Before you could blink, he rolled over, his body caging you in underneath him as he examined you with wide and hopeful eyes. You gazed up at him, your breath shallow and your lips parted as your eyes roamed over his face, taking in every freckle and every wrinkle up close. His beard was getting grayer in spots you hadn't noticed before, somehow adding to his appeal. His lips looked dry from the cold but his eyes looked bright and clear and the way the sun was beaming in through the window behind him, his messy curls sticking up every which way made it look like he was wearing a halo.

With a shaky hand, you reached up to thread your fingers through his hair. It was so much softer than you expected. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your touch. You watched his throat work as he swallowed nervously and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to taste the skin there again, so you did. Leaning up, your lips suckled at the spot between his jaw and neck, his pulse strong and fast under your tongue. A reminder that he was alive and healthy and finally back home. Your nails raked against his scalp and you sucked at his skin a little harder, a little more urgently, a little more desperately and then he was the first to break.

He whimpered.

He fucking whimpered and that was all it took for you to maneuver slightly under him and spread your legs, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him close.

Fuck. He was hard. You felt it in the loose confines of his sweatpants, bobbing against your center when you pulled him down further and it set something on fire inside of you.

You brought your other hand up to get lost in his hair, giving it a tug to pull his head back just a bit so you could angle your mouth over his and you latched onto him hungrily, the contact sending a jolt through your entire body. He slipped his tongue past your teeth and finally allowed himself to touch you, hand cupping your jaw at first, then dropping to grip your ass under the sheets before sliding up your shirt, rough fingers skating up your stomach, then brushing over your tightened nipples, drawing out a sweet little moan which he swallowed down eagerly.

He flattened his hand over your heart, leaving it there as he licked into your mouth, both your jaws pried open as far as they could go, as if you were trying to swallow the other whole. He could feel your heart pounding through your chest, like it was trying to break free and jump into his palm. Like it was saying here, take me, I'm yours. And if you were to untangle your hands from his hair and place one over his own racing heart, he had no doubt you would hear what it was screaming in his chest.

I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much, I'm so sorry, please forgive me.

And of course you forgave him. He was in just as much pain as you. Both of you had been mourning the same person without even realizing it.

And none of that seemed to matter anymore. Not in that moment, anyway. The two of you tangled together, the early morning glow from the sun washing over you, wrapping you up safe and sound in each other's arms.

You dropped your hands, abandoning his hair, nails dragging over his broad shoulders and leaving little red trails in their wake. His own hand slid down from your chest to grab your hip, pulling you impossibly closer to him, forcing you to feel how hard he was for you. All for you.

His facial hair burned your chin but you didn't mind. In fact, it felt good. You chased the feeling, pushing your mouth even harder against him, wanting to make sure you would feel that burn for the rest of the day.

Then you heard a knock on the front door.

Joel didn't react.

Either too lost in the moment or unwilling to allow it to end. Your hands drifted lower, over his relatively smooth chest and over his ribs, your fingertips dancing over each one like piano keys, careful to avoid his wound.

Another knock, louder now, made you pause. Breaking free and turning your head slightly to the side to open your eyes, you tried to listen, but Joel's mouth just slid down your jaw, nipping playfully as he went before biting gently on your earlobe. You gasped softly, momentarily forgetting about the door, your back arching underneath him. His tongue flattened against the hollow of your exposed throat, his exhale tickled your skin and caused a wave of goosebumps to emerge and he smirked, tongue still lavishing your neck as his fingers dug harder into your hip, like he was afraid to let you go.

Now you heard the front door unlock and carelessly swing open, but Joel still didn't stop.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice raspy from disuse. He only hummed in response, then his mouth latched onto your clothed breast, his tongue flicking against the thin material and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out because you heard Ellie's voice now, along with Tommy's, making their way up the stairs.

"Joel!" you said, firmer this time and pushing him back. His dark eyes snapped up to yours, his parted lips wet and swollen as he gasped for air. Thankfully, it sounded like they had tried the master bedroom first. You heard Tommy's heavy steps enter your bathroom before walking back out into the hall and it finally clicked with Joel that you were no longer alone.

"Fuck," he muttered right before the door swung open. He dropped his upper body to cover yours best he could, protecting your modesty even though you were still fully clothed.

"Shit! Sorry!" Tommy exclaimed, backing out of the room. You squeezed your eyes shut as embarrassment flooded your veins, tucking your face into Joel's neck to hide.

"What-" you heard Ellie say from the hall, then the door slammed shut, leaving just you and Joel. The two of you stayed frozen, his body still pinning yours into the mattress under the covers, legs still wrapped around his waist as you listened to Tommy and Ellie's hushed voices trail down the stairs.

"Fuck," he sighed again, dropping his head against your shoulder.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as the both of you slowly regained your senses. Your hands drifted lightly over his back as he nuzzled into your neck, and you were perfectly content to remain just like that, but unfortunately he pushed himself up on his elbows with a sigh.

"I should go see what he wants," he murmured, giving you a heated look that told you talking to his brother was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Okay," you squeaked, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something else but decided against it and instead sat up with a grunt. You pulled the covers back over you, the cool morning air prickling your skin now that you didn't have his body heat to keep you warm, and watched as he fumbled around the room for a discarded shirt. When his back was turned, he tried to subtly tuck his throbbing cock into his waistband, but you noticed and bit back a grin. Secretly, you were grateful for the interruption. As much as you wanted him, you needed to take things slow.

He walked down the stairs, his pace slower than usual as he favored his side with the wound. When his eyes met Tommy's in the kitchen, he saw the flash of guilt across his face for interrupting what was shaping up to be a really good fucking morning.

"Sorry," he said again, glancing quickly at the back of Ellie's head as she rummaged through the pantry for something to eat, completely oblivious to what they almost walked in on. "The kid let me in."

"Yeah, I got that," Joel grumbled as he made his way to the coffee maker and flipped the switch.

"Hey Joel, can I take this?" Ellie held up a box of granola bars and he nodded. She ripped into one and practically shoved half of it into her mouth. "How's it feel to be back home?" she asked with a mouthful of sticky oats. Joel made a disgusted face at the visual and she smirked at his reaction.

"Good," was all he said, turning away before the heat crept up his neck. It felt really fucking good to be home. "So what's goin' on?" he asked Tommy, who was leaning up against the kitchen sink.

"Couple of guys found some tracks this mornin'," Tommy began, and the hairs on the back of Joel's neck stood up.

"Tracks?" you questioned as you appeared in the doorway in a fresh set of clothes. Joel tried not to let his gaze linger on you, noting with a sick sense of pride that your neck still looked a little pink from his mouth, but it was hard. He should have just stayed in bed with you.

"Doesn't look like a big group," he said as Joel's face fell. "It ain't your fault-"

"They followed me here, Tommy," Joel rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"We'll handle it," Tommy replied calmly while you and Ellie sat down silently at the table to listen. "Shit was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Goddamnit," Joel growled angrily under his breath. "I shoulda been more careful. Stupid fuckin'-"

"Joel, you were passed out on the back of a horse," Tommy reasoned, "it's a miracle you even made it back at all. The tracks were a few miles south, I'm gonna get a group together later this mornin' and see what we can find."

"I'll go with you," he said but before Tommy could respond, you piped up.

"No, you're not."

Joel twisted around, taking in the alarmed look on your face. He held your gaze for a moment, your eyes pleading with him. Please don't. I just got you back. He immediately caved.

"Okay," he agreed, and you visibly relaxed with a smile. You desperately wanted to go to him, pull him close and thank him for listening to you, but your audience held you back.

Ellie glanced between the two of you with a knowing grin, finally sensing the change in the room.

"I wasn't lookin' for volunteers, anyway," Tommy said, breaking the heavy silence and pushing off the counter. "Just comin' by to tell you what's goin' on. We're headin' out in an hour, I'll stop by later and let you know what we find."

The coffee maker beeped and Joel grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. "Be careful out there," he told his brother as Tommy slid on his boots and swung open the door. "Don't do anythin' stupid."

"That's rich, comin' from you," he replied with a chuckle and Ellie snorted. Joel shot him a glare before he left, pouring coffee into each of your mugs. He took a grateful sip before bringing yours to the table and sat down. The both of you sipped your coffees in silence, eyes glued to the table while trying to ignore the obvious tension building. Ellie began to connect the dots and stood up.

"I should get going," she announced.

"You don't have to-"

"Stay and warm up a bit-"

She cut you both off. "I got shit to do. Homework and all that," she said, lying through her teeth as she headed for her boots. "Don't worry, I'll lock it behind me," she teased, slipping out the front door while your cheeks burned hot with embarrassment.

"Jesus," you muttered and Joel had to hold back a laugh. He stared down at his coffee, the mug now half filled with the dark, steaming liquid as he struggled to come up with something to say. There was so much he didn't even know where to start.

"Oh! Your meds!" you exclaimed, jumping up from your chair to retrieve the little orange pills Nick gave you the night before. "He said you need to take these with food. Let me make you something," you told him while you shuffled around pots and pans, looking for anything to keep yourself busy.

He sat back in his chair and watched you move around the kitchen with ease. Pulling oatmeal out of the pantry, measuring it out, boiling the pot with water.

You looked nervous. The thought made him smile. He made you nervous.

Right as you turned the burner off and grabbed a bowl you felt his hands circle your hips. You sighed and couldn't resist melting against him, closing your eyes for a moment and resting the back of your head against his shoulder while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"Thank you," he whispered while pressing a chaste kiss behind your ear.

"It's just oatmeal," you whispered back. He swallowed and shook his head before planting another kiss in the same spot.

"No, it's not."

You knew what he was trying to say and it made your heart swell. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for staying. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

"You're welcome," you replied, your voice wavering a bit as you turned around in his arms. You laced your fingers together behind his neck and gazed up at him, examining every wrinkle and scar, fighting the urge to kiss each and every one.

"I love you," he said softly while his thumbs tucked underneath the hem of your shirt, searching for any bit of your soft skin he could find. "I know you can't say it back yet and that's okay. I just really needed to tell you."

You blinked back your tears and nodded, pulling him down to your level and slotting your lips together once again. He sighed as his shoulders relaxed and for the first time everything just felt right so you tentatively flicked your tongue over his lower lip. You felt him smile before he allowed you to deepen the kiss, your tongue slowly and deeply massaging his as he pulled your body closer, pressing you firmly against him.

A deep groan rumbled from his chest when you raked your fingers through his hair, your knees practically buckling at the sound. He walked you backwards until you felt the counter pressing against your back, his kisses growing hungrier and his fingers gripping your hips tighter.

"Your food's getting cold," you mumbled, turning your face towards the oatmeal cooling on the stove.

"Don't care," he said, his lips grazing over your throat. He missed you so much and now that he finally had you, he couldn't get enough. When he dropped to his knees, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans and his mouth ghosting over the apex of your thighs, you gasped and grabbed his hair, stopping him.

"I-I'm not ready for all that yet," you admitted as the warmth of embarrassment flooded your cheeks and chest. "I'm sorry, I know you've been waiting for so long-"

"Shh, it's okay," he said sincerely, then stood back up with a grunt. He cupped your face and gave you a gentle kiss. "I can wait. I'll wait forever, I don't care," he still cradled your jaw as he nuzzled his nose alongside yours.

"This is all I ever want, anyway," he whispered, and you smiled.

It was the first day of your fresh start.

Nick had offered you time off to care for Joel but it quickly became apparent as the day went on that he was doing far better than any of you expected.

He only had a little trouble going up the stairs so the two of you spent the rest of the day in the living room. You had thought he was going to try and nap so you busied yourself with a book, his head resting in your lap as your fingers absentmindedly carded through his curls while you read on the couch, the fire crackling next to you. It wasn't until you lifted your hand to flip a page when you noticed his eyes on you and you grinned.

"I thought you were going to try and sleep?"

"Not very tired," he replied, gently reaching up for your wrist and putting your hand back in his hair. "Feels real nice," he explained. You put your book face down, the spine spread open to hold your place, and began playing with his hair again.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

"Did you go to my parents' house?"

Shit. In all the chaos since arriving back in Jackson he never had a chance to tell you.

"Yes," he said, staring up at you from your lap, watching as the shadow from the flames danced across your face.

"Is that where it happened?" you asked, your eyes traveling to the side where he was stabbed. He nodded and you sniffled, dropping your gaze to the floor. "I thought so. Because of the pills," you said quietly, "my name was on the bottle."

"I know," he replied, watching as your eyes clouded with guilt. He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"You got hurt because of me," you said, lower lip trembling. "If I hadn't been so immature we could've talked about it but instead I pushed you away and you almost died trying to prove a point-"

"Hey," he cut you off and sat up next to you, "it's not your fault, don't you dare think that, alright?" He cupped your face but you still refused to meet his eye. "I fucked up. It was on me, okay? I fucked up with Angie and I fucked up out there."

"You could've died," you said, two tears trickling down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs.

"But I didn't."

You took in a shaky breath and finally looked at him. "Don't do something like that ever again," you told him, an undercurrent of anger in your voice, and he smirked.

"Yes, ma'am."

He dropped his hold on your face and leaned back, stretching his arm across the top of the couch. "Can't deny it got results, though," he teased after a moment and you shot him a glare but he could see you biting back a smile. You picked up your book, leaning into his shoulder just a bit as you continued to read and he stared into the fire, his mind still reeling to catch up with how fast things changed. It felt like a dream.

"What did you go there for, anyway?"

Joel rolled his eyes. "It sounds so stupid now."

You put your book back down and twisted to face him. "I'm sure it's not."

With a groan, Joel pushed himself up from the couch and began to rummage through his backpack, which remained idle next to the door since the day before. You tucked your legs underneath you and watched curiously.

When he pulled out a familiar looking binder, a faded beige color with a black trim, you could have sworn your heart stopped.

"I wanted to give you somethin' that you would recognize. Somethin' that felt like home," he began, holding it out to you. "Maybe bring you some comfort or... I don't know. Like I said, it sounds stupid now."

"No," you whispered as you carefully took the album from his hands. "Not stupid, Joel." You pursed your lips as you stared at the cover, your fingertips gently skirting over the fabric. Your family was right in your lap. So many wonderful memories... right fucking there.

The tears welled up without warning and began to pour down your cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah," you said, laughing through the tears. "You... you gave me my family back, Joel. How-" your voice cracked and you averted your gaze, doing your best to compose yourself but you knew it was no use. "How could you think this was stupid? This is everything to me."

He gave you a shy smile and shrugged. "Then it was worth it."

He had been listening to you for the better part of an hour as you walked him through each photo in the album and his only regret was he wasn't able to stay long enough in California to find more pictures. He loved hearing you talk about your family, about your childhood, about everything you loved. The look on your face and the tone of your voice was all he ever wanted. You were so fucking happy, so content and at ease that he knew without a doubt if he had to go through it all over again, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"Oh my god, so this was taken the day Matty tried to teach me to surf," you said with a giggle, dragging his eyes from your face to a picture of you and your brother on the beach in wetsuits. "He had learned in college because he went to school on the coast. I told you that, right?"

"Yep," he said with a warm smile.

"Anyway, it went as well as you could imagine. I have no coordination whatsoever. I fell, like, every single time, no matter how small the wave... Oh! This must have been his graduation," you said, pointing to the next photo of the four of you all dressed up in front of a regal looking building. "He was so smart, Joel. He was going to be a chemist. Who does that? Who majors in Chemistry? I absolutely hated chem," you said with a shake of your head. Your eyes hadn't stopped shining since you opened the album and the smile never left your face. Your gaze softened and you quieted down as you stared down lovingly at the pictures, your fingers tracing over them delicately. Occasionally you would tell him a story and other times you would grow quiet and thoughtful. He sat by your side and just listened, letting you work through your feelings and memories at your own pace.

"I miss them so much," you eventually said softly.

"I know," he replied, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"Thank you, Joel," you said, voice thick with emotion when you turned to look at him. Your eyes were wide and wet with unshed tears, and he saw your throat bob when you swallowed tightly. "This means so much to me, I don't know how to put it into words."

"You're welcome, baby," he told you. He pinched your chin and leaned in to kiss you when a sharp knock sounded from the door.

He stood with a frustrated huff and you hid your smile, setting the photo album down on the sofa next to you.

"Hey, come in," Joel said once he opened the door. Tommy stepped through and shrugged off his coat, locking eyes and giving you a nod. "What'd you find?"

"There were only four. Two of 'em were half frozen and the other two didn't have much fight in 'em."

You made a face and looked away as Joel led Tommy into the kitchen.

"Who were they?" Joel asked, and you heard the telltale sound of liquid pouring from a bottle. You stood and made your way towards the kitchen.

"Don't know," Tommy admitted, tossing back the whiskey. Joel gave him a refill right as you were entering the room. "We questioned the two that were conscious but they didn't give us much. Said they were alone. Said they were part of a bigger group that got picked off."

"The men I killed?" Joel asked, brow furrowed as he took a sip of whiskey.

"They didn't say, but they did tell us a few of their guys were out scavenging and never made it back, so maybe."

Joel nodded and you leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.

"You think they were tellin' the truth? That there ain't any more of 'em?"

Tommy shrugged. "Didn't have reason to think otherwise. We scoured the area. Couldn't find any other tracks-"

"But the snow coulda covered it up," Joel offered anxiously. He scratched his chin, staring blankly at the floor while the gears turned in his head. "They probably followed the horse tracks and when the snow got to be too much, they lost their way. They were comin' for me, Tommy."

For some reason it never occurred to you that those men were looking for revenge. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Or they were just lookin' for someplace warm. You don't know, Joel. Besides, it don't matter now. It's dealt with."

Joel didn't look convinced but he kept his mouth shut, for your sake. He could tell he was worrying you and he had already put you through enough as it was.

"Listen, I oughta get back to Maria. I'm sure she's got her hands full," Tommy said after a brief silence. He handed Joel his empty glass and shot you a look. "Don't worry, sugar. We got this under control."

You gave him a tight smile and moved out of his way so he could gather his things.

"Thank you," you told him quietly while Joel rinsed out their glasses.

His eyes flicked up to yours as he laced up his boots. "Don't mention it. Ain't nothin' bad gonna happen, I promise."

You wished his words brought you some comfort but you couldn't shake the nagging voice in the back of your head.

"C'mon. Why don't you show me more pictures," Joel urged once Tommy was on his way. It was clear he was trying to get your mind off things.

"Actually, I think I'm gonna go to bed," you told him. He was in the middle of picking up your photo album when he paused and glanced up. His eyes scanned your face, clocking the anxiety you were trying to hide. He could tell you still felt responsible, even though he had insisted what happened wasn't your fault, and now the raiders following him back into the mountains just made matters worse.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," you replied, your voice sounding more confident as you tried to shrug off the bad feeling Tommy left. Your eyes flickered to his awkwardly. "Do you... need help getting up the stairs?"

He frowned and shook his head, too lost in his own head to pick up on what you were too nervous to really ask. "I'll be alright. Go get some rest, I'm gonna stay up for a bit."

After you went to bed, he tried to distract himself from the possibility he put the entire town, but more importantly, you, at risk. He poured another glass of whiskey and picked up a book, but he found himself rereading the same paragraph over and over for half an hour.

What a stupid fucking thing to do. He pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking himself for being so careless. Maybe he could convince you tomorrow to let him go out with Tommy. He trusted his brother, but he knew he would feel better if he explored the area himself. He knew he had to be careful. He made so much progress with you, he couldn't risk fucking that up, either, and based on the way you looked at him earlier, it was clear the prospect of him leaving Jackson again so soon scared you.

Warmth bloomed in his chest and the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. The idea of you scared didn't please him, but scared for him? Well, that was different.

The way he woke up that morning still felt like a dream. Your arms wrapped around him, your face nuzzled into his shoulder, your scent invading his senses. It felt strange for a split second until his memories came flooding back from a time when he woke up like that every single day and he foolishly wondered if you had finally remembered. Once you opened your eyes he knew instantly you hadn't, but somehow he was even more excited that someone as perfect as you found your way into his bed twice.

Bed.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before tossing back the rest of his whiskey. He was procrastinating now, tending to the fire one last time before dragging himself back to his empty bed. How was he going to sleep when he knew you were right in the next room? God, what he wouldn't give to curl up in bed with you.

He froze, the poker hovering in the air halfway towards the fire as he thought back to your words when you went to bed, now hours ago.

Do you need help getting up the stairs?

You sounded a little strange but at the time he just chalked it up to Tommy's news about the raiders. When you asked if he needed help, were you trying to get him to come up and sleep with you?

"Oh, you fuckin' idiot," he growled to himself under his breath before slotting the poker back in the stand. Was it too late?

He crept quietly up the steps, hoping to see your light on under your door but unfortunately, your room was dark. Shit.

Changing into his sweatpants, he mentally chastised himself for being so goddamn thick and missing his opportunity to go to bed with you. After he washed up, he paced around his room, anxiously chewing his nail and wondering what he should do. Should he just go to sleep? Should he slip into your bed the way you did the night before? Would you be upset if he did?

Just when he thought he was about to wear a hole into the thin carpet he heard a light tapping on his bedroom door. He froze and held his breath, wondering if he imagined it until he heard it again.

He rushed to the door and whipped it open where he found you standing in the hallway wearing a thin T-shirt and sweatpants of your own. You didn't look like you had just woken up, your eyes didn't look like they were clouded with sleep. You were waiting for him.

Your gaze darted quickly over his bare chest, like you were trying not to look but couldn't help yourself. His cock twitched, excited by the notion that you could be fighting your own arousal, same as him.

"Can I stay with you?" you asked, your voice impossibly small and fuck, his heart squeezed in his chest at how sweet you were in that moment.

"Yeah," he breathed, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. He widened the door and stepped aside, watching as you slipped past him and curled up underneath his sheets.

Neither of you said a word. He just flicked off the light and slid into bed beside you, turning onto his side and pulling you against him. His face nuzzled the back of your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist and he heard you sigh. He held you close and with tears in his eyes whispered how sorry he was, how he would never hurt you again, how he was weak and stupid and he loved you so much.

You didn't say much in return. Just the occasional nod or sniffle or squeeze of his hand in acknowledgement.

All of the stress and anguish from the past several months were the furthest things from both your minds as you fell asleep that night, each of you finally assured that everything was going to be okay.

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {2}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: Alcohol leads to some bad decisions and a big fight threatens to tear the family apart. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, alcohol, daddy issues, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Round Twelve - Belgium 2022 A sponged microphone was shoved in your face and you barely stopped yourself from smacking it away out of reflex, but you did startle back a bit before recovering.

“You look a little wound up, Spitfire,” Lando commented with a laugh. “Ready to call a truce.”

“You wish, Norris. You may have won the battle but I’m going to win the war.”

The microphone picked up the exchange and the reporter cast a glance between the two of you. “Is this battling on the track?”

“With his tractor? No way,” you laughed, nudging Lando with your elbow and a smile to ease the blow. “Someone thought it would be funny to wake me up with a fire extinguisher, which I am totally blaming on Charles because I know you couldn’t come up with that on your own.”

“Hey!” Lando whined with a pout. “I…can’t come up with a lie right now.”

“That’s what I thought. Charles, watch your back and you both better sleep with one eye open.” You turned your attention back to the reporter and signalled with your hand for them to do their thing while you dutifully did yours for yet another Media Day.

“We know you and Max have a, some would say, unhealthy amount of competitiveness on the track but outside of that you are very protective of each other…so, how has he reacted to finding out you’re on the dating app Raya?”

You winced at the question and saw the guys get whiplash with how fast their heads turned your way. All along the line the question echoed. Lando, Pierre, Charles, Daniel and finally Max, ten beady eyes staring at you with a mixed array of emotions.

“What? You all get to date, why can’t I?” you asked defensively as you crossed your arms. “Gotta find something to do for summer break.”

“Hiking in the Alps,” Charles offered.

“Or sunbathing in the Maldives,” Pierre suggested.

“Please never refer to dating someone as ‘something to do’,” Max huffed. “Or better yet, never mention dating at all. Adopt some cats.”

You looked at Lando and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have anything to add? Since everyone else seems to think they actually have a say in what I do.”

His eyes darted around the guys who were expecting him to pitch in but all he had was a squeaky and unsure, “No?” 

“And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

“Why do you want to date anyway?” Daniel asked, and you swore there was more than just curiosity in his tone.

“You guys have girlfriends, and I want one too.”

“A girlfriend?” he asked with far too much enthusiasm.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “I’m not ruling out 50% of the dating pool.”

“So how have you been finding the app,” the reporter asked, “any connections made?”

You huffed and shook your head, a few sighs of relief sounding down the line but you didn’t see who they came from. One was definitely Max.

“I’m an athlete. I train and I sweat so the last thing I want to do when I get home is do the laundry or cook a healthy meal. But my experience so far is that men think it’s the woman’s job to do that, so I need a guy that’s up for sharing responsibility. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’d cook for you!” A man called from the crowd and you sat up straighter trying to see where it came from. 

“What about laundry?” you fired back.

“Security,” Max called with a finger pointed to the good looking man who put his thumbs up in the air. 

“Ignore him. What’s your name?” you asked as you pulled out your phone. It only took ten seconds to find Martin’s social media accounts and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “This is why I have trust issues. I hope your girlfriend sees this and dumps you.”

Three days later You had failed to finish the GP after an embarrassing pitstop left one of your wheels rolling down the lane. The replay footage kept popping up wherever you went, even at the restaurant before the afterparty, and Max had the audacity to laugh. “Nice trike, zusje.”

“Shut up and get me another drink,” you grumbled as you drowned your sorrows.

He soon returned with two gin and tonics and huffed as you took them both. “I’m not carrying you back to the hotel if you pass out,” he warned before going and getting another drink for himself.

“That’s fine, I can always call my new friend, Martin,” you said with a grimace as he took your phone off the table and shoved it in his pocket. “Bonnie Tyler was onto something. Where have all the good men gone?”

“They aren’t at the bottom of your glass,” Max said as you tipped the drink back. “So you can stop looking there.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, bro.” 

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you push your chair back and head for the door.

“Taking a page out of P’s favourite book,” you said over your shoulder.

Christian sat back in his chair as you left and asked Max, “What’s P’s favourite book?”

“We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.” Max sighed and rubbed his temples, making Christian laugh with a shake of his head. 

“Should I send someone to keep an eye on her?” 

“It’s fine, we have family share so I can see her location-fuck! I have her phone!” Max leapt from the table and rushed out of the restaurant. He looked up and down the busy street but he couldn’t see you anywhere and combed a hand through his hair, wondering what he should do.

He hardly used his social media accounts, leaving it to his PA to monitor that side of things, but this would be the exception. Opening twitter, he put out the message asking that if anyone spots you to send him the location. Almost immediately he got bombarded with replies of concern and his anxiety spiked when he realised he would waste his night with the time it would take to go through and find any messages that were actually helpful.

A familiar face spotted you on the dancefloor of the club you found yourself in and you grinned when he made his way through the crowd to you. 

“Dance with me, Lando,” you shouted over the music.

“Your brother’s looking for you,” he replied, leaning closer so you could hear him. 

“Please don’t tell him where I am.” You could already feel your mood deflating and he bit his lip as he was torn between loyalties. 

“Okay, I won’t,” Lando promised, earning a bright smile that made him feel better. “But I’ll let him know you’re with me so he can stop freaking out.”

You didn’t bother to correct him, because Max would never stop worrying. He took his role as older brother too seriously, something you often found stifling since you had grown up without it and still struggled to accept it.

“I’m getting a drink, do you want one?” you asked as while he was busy on his phone, messaging Max.

“Uh, yeah, rum and coke, please.”

You slipped away to the bar, stumbling more than you would like to admit, and leaned against the bar top as you waited for some service. You hadn’t been there for more than a minute when an arm draped over your shoulders and you spotted the Forza Ferrari bracelet on the wrist.

“You have got twitter going crazy, chérie,” Charles said with a chuckle. “There’s quite a few people out hunting for you.”

“And I found her first,” Lando said as he brushed the arm off your shoulder and stood at your other side.

“Well,” you chuffed as you draped your arms over their shoulders and pulled them closer, “I’m on a hunt of my own and I could do with some help. A girl has needs and you two are going to be my wingmen.”

They both looked at each other and you could see the mental conversation they were having, each long passing second leading you to pull back. “No, don’t call Max. Lando, you promised.”

“We can’t just let you go off with some random,” Charles said as he caught your hand before you could escape the bar, “what if they are a serial killer?”

You tugged your hand back angrily and struggled to keep your balance when you were suddenly freed. “If I were a guy we wouldn’t be having this argument. Why can’t I have fun too?”

“We just want to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” you laughed bitterly and held your hand out. “Fine, give me a condom, I know you carry them around in your wallet.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Lando argued as he pushed your hand away. “You’re not sleeping with a stranger.”

“Is that you offering then?” You looked between Charles and Lando, watching their necks turn pink as you crossed your arms. “That's what I thought. I’m going to another bar, this one’s full of assholes. Hasta luego, pendejos.”

“Great, she’s been hanging out with Carlos,” Charles grumbled as you walked away.

“He’s better company than you two,” you shouted over your shoulder before you hit the exit. 

Cold air rushed into your lungs and you realised two things. One; you should have worn more clothes, and two; you were sobering up. There was only one way to solve both problems so you marched your way down the street to find another bar.

Your head was pounding and your stomach turned when you woke up to the first day of summer break. The hotel room was elegant and luxurious, but it wasn’t yours and you didn’t know how you had come to get here.

“Coffee?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you sighed with relief as Lando walked into the bedroom with two cups in his hands. “Where’s my clothes? Did we have sex? Wait, no, you wouldn’t cheat and I’d definitely remember that.”

“They’re in the dryer, and no we didn’t have sex,” he said as he handed you one of the cups. “You were soaked when we found you.”

You frowned as you tried to remember what happened but came up blank. “We?”

“You went for a swim in the fountain of love in the city centre. It was a ‘part of your hunt’, apparently. Charles helped me get you back here before anyone called the police.”

“Oh, great,” you muttered as you pulled the sheets higher. “Hey, you’re doing my laundry. It’s a shame you’re not single. Then again, you can’t cook for shit.”

“Be glad you’re single. The grass isn’t always greener on this side of the fence,” he said with a sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.” Lando suddenly looked guilty as he took the half drunk coffee back and placed it on the side table. “I should probably warn you, I called Max after you took off from us last night.”

“I was with you and Charles?” Your brows pinched together as you started to recall being angry at them before embarrassment followed. “Shit, I called you assholes.”

“It’s fine, but the only reason we found you again was because of some clips on Instagram.”

You could imagine another lashing from the Red Bull PR, it wasn’t the first time you were involved in drunk misadventures and it was caught on camera. Usually it was some dare or competition involving Max where neither of you wanted to admit defeat and things just got out of control. He’d probably enjoy hearing you get ripped a new one by Christian while he got a pat on the head for being the golden child.

“What did I do this time?” you asked, knowing it was easier to just rip the bandaid off.

“It isn’t what you did,” he said with a wince. “It’s what you said.”

“Well?” you prompted when he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“You said Charles’ listens to Nickelback.”

Your head fell back with a laugh and the sheet fell down as you let go of the cotton to clutch your nauseous stomach. “Well at least I wasn’t spouting off a bunch of bullshit.”

“And that there were three drivers you would date if you got the chance.”

“Ah, well…” you cleared your throat and scrunched the bedding into your hands, ignoring the way his eyes trailed over your bra that was on display. “That is a lie. There’s only two. It’s just my luck they are both in relationships. Did I really use the word date?”

“You said fuck but the meaning was there.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them with a heavy sigh. “I’m a mess. I’m surprised you didn’t try to prank me while you had the chance. Or is there a dick in permanent marker on my face?”

“You wouldn’t have been coherent enough to appreciate it,” Lando teased as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I told you this last night and I know you’re lonely, but you're looking for love in all the wrong places. You’re not going to find someone who will treat you right in a shitty nightclub when you’re too drunk to even give consent.”

Tears of embarrassment stung your eyes and you swallowed the lump in your throat before climbing off the bed and wrapping the sheet around you. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m not going to take dating advice from the guy who clearly isn’t happy in his own relationship.”

There would be no way to erase the image of how hurt he was by the words so you turned your back and left the room, grabbing your damp dress from the dryer and pulling it on. Thankfully your shoes were beside the door so you swiped them up as you left, the heels dangling from your fingers as you pushed through the sickening feeling and left the hotel to break into a run.

People stared in the street, some even pulled out their phones when they recognised you but there would be no autographs. You focused on your breathing, focused on the cold slap of your bare feet on the pavement, focused on anything but the look in Lando’s eyes.

“Where the fuck were you!” Max shouted as you reached your room and found him already there, rising from one of the armchairs like the godfather. “I have been worried sick.”

“Jesus, you sound like Jos when you shout. Relax before you have a heart attack and leave me with no competition.”

“You’re more likely to lose your seat the way you’re going, and leave me without any competition.”

“Dream on, I just had a moment.”

Max cocked an eyebrow up and crossed his arms. “Yeah, and what was last weekend and the one before that?”

You sucked your teeth at the reminder and dropped your shoes to the floor. “That wasn’t my fault, I didn’t start the prank war. And I really didn’t think the smoke bomb would set off all of the sprinklers, just the one in Charles’ room. Plus, I paid for the damages and repairs.”

“Throwing money around doesn’t mean you can act like a spoiled brat,” he said as he fell back into the armchair. 

“I am not a spoiled brat,” you growled. “I didn’t grow up with money like you and Vicky. I was the dirty little secret, just a bi-product of Jos' affair, that had to scrounge around for second hand parts just so I could have a working kart. So, fuck you, I’m allowed to enjoy the money I have earned.”

“And what about your mother? Do you think she doesn’t see those videos going viral of you drunk out of your mind, letting some klootzak take body shots off you? Does that make her proud?”

Fire burned deep in your gut as you felt attacked from all sides and the angry words spilled over before you could stop them, “I hate you.” Your feet stomped across the carpet to swipe your phone up from beside your stunned brother before you grabbed your backpack from the race which still had your passport and wallet inside. "I never needed a big brother, so you can stop fucking trying and just leave me alone."

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you head to the door. “The plane doesn’t leave until this afternoon.”

“Fuck you and fuck your plane. I’ll find my own way home.”

There was only one person you knew you could always count on, the first teammate you had when you made it into F1, and you were already dialling his number as you walked out of the hotel in tears.

“Pierre,” you sobbed as he answered. “I need you.”

Click here for part three.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[ilongfor-the-arts]

A REQUEST FOR LIP PLEASEEE!! him getting hammered in a party then he calls you to rescue him or smth then you gotta drag him and drive him back home. he asks you sleep over and you stayed! thats basically my idea u can develop it however u like <333 can be fluff alone or added w a bit of spice🤭 but we’ll enjoy it nevertheless

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst (nothing happens bc Lip is drunk), dirty talk, language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.5k

An ear splitting noise startled me awake. I shot up, my eyes flinging open, only to discover that my bedroom was completely dark.

Was that my alarm?

No, there is no way in hell it was eight in the morning already.

I groaned in frustration and reached for my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted, I ran my palm along the smooth wood, my bedroom gradually coming into view. Unfortunately, my vision was not properly adjusted to perceive the small black box. My hand pushed a mysterious object, and a soft thud echoed.

“Shit!”

I exclaimed. I threw my torso off the bed and inspected the carpeted floor for my phone.

Whoever was calling me at this hour was gonna get it.

When I realized I didn't have much time before the call went to voicemail, I quickened my pace, grunting from the unexpected effort.

“Yes!”

The artificial glow burned into my retinas as I flipped the phone over to expose the screen. I was forced to squint so I could see who had the audacity to call me at such an inconvenient hour.

I rolled my eyes.

Of fucking course.

With a sour attitude, I accepted the call. I was miffed at Lip for ruining my perfect night of restful sleep.

“What? This better be good Lip, or I’m gonna be really pissed.”

I flopped onto the bed and fixed my gaze on the boring ceiling. On the other end of the line, there was a cacophony of voices and screams. It was so loud that it resembled a roar. To prevent going deaf, I moved the phone a few inches from my ear.

“Heyyyyyy Y/N. How are ya?”

Every syllable lacked clarity. Oh, come on, why did I have to be the one getting booty called tonight? I disregarded his inquiry and instead put forth my own.

“Lip, what time is it?”

I inquired in part to gauge his level of inebriation and in part because I was too sluggish to remove my phone from my ear to check the time.

“Uhhhh- that’s a great question.”

There was rustling from the other end of the line.

“It’s 9 oh 3.”

I cocked a brow.

“You sure about that?”

“Uh-hold on. Gimmie a sec.”

Rustling.

“Do you read from left to right or right to left?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least, this would make a good story in a few days after I recovered from my extreme sleep deprivation.

“Left to right, at least in English.”

“Okay, thanks. You’re so smart.”

Rustling.

“Okay, it’s 3 oh 9. Well… 3:10 now.”

I tried to shake the sleep from my brain by closing my eyes and gently kneading my soft eyelids.

“That’s just perfect. You do remember me saying I had an 8 am class today, right?”

“Yes I do. I just-I lost my phone, and yours is the-the only phone number I remember.”

He had never been this drunk before. Lip had a very high tolerance for alcohol. The number of drinks he must have consumed to get to this point is beyond my comprehension. His speech was becoming more slurred by the second, almost as if he were nodding off.

I completely ignored the fact that he used his phone to call me. He was comprehending very little at this moment.

“How many drinks have you had, Lip?”

Silence.

“Uh-that’s another great question…”

His voice trailed off. I sure hope he didn't doze off on me.

“Alright Lip, don’t fall asleep.”

I threw myself into a sitting position and switched on the bedside table lamp. The room instantly filled with bright light. My eyes watered. I squinted to accommodate the abrupt change.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached down to put on my slippers.

“Uh-I don’t know the address.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, well, can you give me any information that could help me find you?”

I stood, the phone pressed to my ear. I threw a light jacket over my shoulders to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

“Uh-it’s down the street from an old gas station.”

I knew exactly where he was. There was only one party host who lived next to an old gas station.

“Are you at Christian’s house?”

“No. Well, actually, I don’t know.”

I walked to my front door, shaking my head in disbelief. I plucked my car keys from the wood tray by the door, twirling them between my fingers. The silence that engulfed my apartment complex was deafening compared to the soft jingle.

“I’ll come and get ya’. Just give me ten minutes. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Okay. I’ll be waitin’ for ya on the front lawn.”

“Perfect.”

I drove slowly, not in a hurry to arrive at Christian's house. Lip could handle himself when he was drunk. Sure, he said stupid shit at times, but if I truly believed he was a danger to himself, I would increase my urgency.

Not even a meek flicker of light could be seen in the windows of nearby houses. My car was engulfed in darkness. Everything was pitch black save for a few street lamps that did little to penetrate the gloom. The world was still and silent.

It reminded me of the twilight zone. I was imprisoned in an environment where time did not exist. I was alone. There were no people who could guide me. I was trapped.

That was the impression I had up until I arrived at Christian's house. The street was lined with parked cars. There were sober individuals mixed in with those who were stumbling drunk. Christian’s house was bursting at the seams. People could be seen congregating on the lawn, in the upper windows, shoving their way inside, and shoving their way out. I stopped my car in front of the grass. Sure enough, Lip was standing on the front lawn, gazing at the street with a blank stare.

I giggled. He looked lost.

I opened my car window and protruded my head outside.

“Lip Gallagher! Your chauffeur is here!”

I shouted sarcastically. My joke elicited a few giggles from various partygoers. A stupidly uneven smile appeared on Lip’s face as he awoke from his stupor.

“Oh hi, Y/N! I didn’t even know you were coming!”

“Get in Lip. I’m gonna take you home.”

Lip walked over, nearly tripping ten times in the short distance he had to cover. I laughed at his erratic behavior.

“You're gonna sit in the back, Lip?”

I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. His head was leaning against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. He looked serene. Lip jerked awake. His half lidded eyes hurriedly scanned the back of my car as if expecting company.

“Uh-no. I’ll sit in the front.”

I anticipated that he would exit the vehicle and move to the front seat. Instead, he launched himself over the center console.

“Jesus Lip!”

I exclaimed, a flurry of limbs obstructing my view. His body relaxed as he sank into the passenger seat.

“That’s better. It’s much more comfortable up here.”

I scoffed and decided not to participate in this pointless conversation.

Lip didn't speak once during the entire drive back to his apartment, which surprised me. His breathing evened out. I could only assume that he had dozed off. His head would softly crash into the window when I crossed a bump in the road. Although the position didn't appear to be comfortable, Lip was too far gone to bother.

I parked in front of Lip’s dorm complex.

“Lip.”

The mere mention of his name caused Lip to instantly become alert, his hands fumbling all over my car.

“Yes?”

I grinned.

“Do you need help walking or can you manage?”

“I got it.”

Lip stumbled out of the vehicle and looked up at his run-down dorm building. Thank God he was at a dorm and not in his chaotic home. Only occasionally have I had to pick up Lip from a party. Yet, I always seem to run into one of Fiona's conquests who is using the cover of night to elude detection.

“This isn’t my house.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Lip, you moved. You live in a dorm now.”

Lip squinted, still not convinced.

“Oh!”

His eyes widened as his face relaxed.

“Yeah, I remember now.”

We moved slowly as we ascended the stairs. Lip kept stumbling forward, tripping, falling, then shooting back up. The cycle was then repeated ten steps later. Eventually I caved and slung his arm over my shoulder to quicken the process.

“Are your roommates home?”

I wanted to ignite a casual conversation because I could feel Lip growing heavier. I was struggling under his weight and quickly ran out of breath.

“Yes. Actually, no. I don’t think so. I think they left town.”

“Where did they go?”

“They went… to- somewhere.”

Thank God. I could throw Lip on his bed, tuck him in, and leave without any awkward encounters.

I threw Lip’s dorm room open and reached for the lightswitch.

“Noooooo. Don’t turn on the lights.”

I reconciled.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

It was the home stretch. Lip’s bed was in sight.

I threw him onto it. Under his weight, the springs groaned loudly, disturbing the peace.

“Alright Lip, looks like my work here is done.”

I couldn't help but smile as I turned to leave. Even though I adored Lip and knew this would make a great story, I was eager to crawl into bed.

“Wait…”

He said meekly.

I turned, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

In the ten seconds that I was looking elsewhere, he had somehow gotten himself into a seated position.

“Come here.”

With the most threatening voice his inebriated mind could conjure, he demanded. I rolled my eyes as I approached him.

His expression was sluggish. He seemed to be in a drug-induced coma. Lip’s eyes were half lidded and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned in a silly manner.

I came to a halt about a foot and a half in front of him.

“Come closer.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step forward.

“Closerrrrrr.”

He was undoubtably fucking with me. But whatever, I’ll play his stupid game. I took another step forward, our knees brushing.

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced at me through his thick lashes.

Shit.

What have I gotten myself into?

Lip encircled my thighs with his large hands, tugging me forward until the waistband of my shorts was level with his nose.

The air hitched in my throat.

“Lip!”

I exclaimed.

Lip began pressing tender kisses to the tops of my bare thighs, maintaining intense eye contact.

“Come on Y/N, live a little.”

I chuckled, my face flushed with embarrassment, despite the fact that Lip was completely unaware of his actions.

“Lip you really are drunk out of your mind.”

Lip chuckled against my skin.

“Maybe.”

He mumbled.

“No, not maybe, definitely.”

His voice was remarkably crisp and clear. Lip was in his element. He was truly demonstrating his ability to woo any woman, even when his mind was under the influence of alcohol.

“Okay, I’m a little drunk.”

I couldn’t deny that he looked unbelievably sexy with his hot mouth trailing along my thighs.

“But I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me inside you.”

His tone was sultry.

How did he manage to flirt drunk better than I could flirt stone cold sober?

Smug bastard.

“I-“

I couldn't refute his accusation because he was completely correct. I could already feel the wetness pooling in my panties and all he had done was kiss my thighs.

“Come on Y/N, just let me fuck you.”

He pushed the hem of my shirt upwards, exposing a thin strip of my stomach. Lip’s fiery touch ignited an expanse of goosebumps along my soft skin.

He pressed several hot, open mouthed kisses to my lower abdomen.

I shuddered.

My knees began to shake.

Jesus.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and meekly pushed him away. Lip resisted, his mouth remaining pressed against my body.

“You’re so tense all the fuckin’ time.”

I gulped, squeezing my eyes shut. If I continued to maintain eye contact, I would never have the strength to put an end to this.

“You need to relax… and I can make you relax. I can eat you out and make you cum all over my face- I can fuck you real slow- make you feel really good-“

His warm mouth was hovering just above my waistband.

“Lip, we’re friends-“

“Friends fuck. Friends fuck all the time.”

He moved a hand forward, rubbing soft circles into my clothed clit.

Jesus, he was touching me through two layers of clothing and I was still getting insanely hot and bothered.

No.

Hell no.

“Sure, but sober friends don’t fuck drunk friends.”

I was more assertive in my actions. I pushed him away from me. Lip's mouth disconnected from my stomach with a soft pop. His hands landed in his lap.

“No?”

He asked with a sarcastic pout.

“Maybe another time.”

I said despite knowing Lip wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Okay. But I got ya thinkin’ about it, didn’t I?”

He asked smugly.

“Yes, you did.”

Lip fell to one side, his head hitting the pillow.

“Will you stay with me?”

I chuckled.

“What are you, seven?”

Lip groaned, his eyes shut.

“No-I’m at least 10.”

Despite my jokes, I wanted to be with Lip. I'd possessed a small crush on him for the many years we'd been friends, but I wasn't sure if it was something I should pursue. It was always a minor nagging thought in the back of my mind, never something to take seriously.

Until tonight.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

I crawled into bed with him, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Love ya Y/N.”

His voice was slurred to the point where his words could barely be understood. But I recognized what he was saying. When it was time to say goodbye, he always told me he loved me (platonically, of course). I'm grateful that drunk him still clung to our traditions.

“Love you too Lip.”

Lip smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. It wafted into my nose in waves, lulling me to sleep.

[eepwriting]

thigh anon here, absolutely loved what you wrote so I'm back again!! might be too much idk but

could we please get another ivy fic, where the reader has feelings for him and there is some playful flirting between them and ivy, but they don't know if he's being serious so they break down and confess and turns out ivy also has feelings for them but was in the same boat of being unsure

ending with lots of reassurance and comfort (and maybe a passionate sex scene if it's not too much to ask 👀)

This Whole Time ✶ IV x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, intercourse, masturbation, slight angst

Omg hiii thigh anon!! I made sure to not delete your entire ask this time ha. Thank you as always 🤍

!! mdni !!

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You couldn’t deny the way your heart ached slightly every time you saw him.

He was always so kind, considerate of your thoughts and feelings. He was funny, charismatic, and handsome. The two of you had became friends almost 2 years ago, this little crush growing everyday. Sure, you could confess how you felt, but you knew you’d never recover if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe the two of you could remain friends if that was the case, but the reminder of absent attraction would always be at the back of your mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of your everyday life without him in it.

So, you remained just friends with him. You play along with his naturally flirty nature and pretend to not be affected by it, not letting him see how much you wished it was real. “Jokingly” flirting back. Just two friends joking around.

So when your phone buzzes with a text from him, inviting you over for “shit food and trash tv” you push your feelings down and think on the positive side: You get to hang out with your good friend!

Your heart hammers in your chest as you climb the stairs to his apartment later that night. It always seemed to do that before you saw him, only slowing down after sitting with him a while. You knock on his door before letting yourself in, kicking off your shoes at the door. IVs standing in the kitchen, leaned over, looking into his fridge. He hears your entrance and stands straight, closing the fridge door.

A smile reaches his eyes as he walks over, reaching out to pull you into a hug. He squeezes you tight, his fingertips lightly scratching up and down your back. “Hey, you.” His voice is quiet in your ear.

“Hi, how’ve you been?” Your hand squeezes his shoulder. He pulls away from you but keeps his hands on your hips. “Good, you?”

You nod, “Good. Hungry.”

“Well lucky you, I ordered your favorite.” He gently pushes you towards the living room, hands on your shoulders. Your eyes land on the coffee table, on it a small spread of food from your favorite take out place, plus your favorite drinks.

“Oh wowww, you’re really spoiling me, huh?” You laugh as you take a seat on the couch.

“I gotta give my best to my favorite person, don’t I?” He sheepishly shrugs before sitting down next to you. He grabs the remote, switching on the tv.

You hope he doesn’t notice the blush that rises to your cheeks. You watch the side of his face for a moment before reaching forward to open the food boxes in front of you.

You hear the theme song of a show you hate and glare over at iv. “Oh no, no.” You reach over him to pick the remote up, hitting the back button.

“What? I like that show.” He turns to you, his arm flying up to point at the tv.

You shake your head and snicker, “That show sucks, ivy. C’mon.”

“Oh that’s real rich coming from you. At least it has substance! Unlike what you watch.” He jokingly shakes his head in shame.

Your mouth opens in fake hurt, a hand reaching up to your neck as you gasp. “Wow. That’s quite rude, you know?” He just lets out a loud laugh as he pulls his mask up over his mouth to take a sip of his drink.

You settle on an early 2010s sitcom before grabbing a container of food and sitting further back on the couch.

Before you know it, the two of you are 4 episodes deep, food long gone. You sat with your back against the armrest, your legs lay over iv’s lap, who’s sat further down the couch. His hands rest on your calves, absentmindedly rubbing, occasionally squeezing whenever he laughs at something.

You watch as the two main characters share a loving moment towards the end of the episode. They vow to not let the small things break them apart, even the silly little conflict the episode had revolved around. You can’t help but to look over at iv as the people on screen share a kiss, wishing you could have a moment like that with him. You blatantly stare at him, too lost in the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” You feel a squeeze on your knee.

You blink, your head shaking slightly as he looks at you with a look of concern. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” You shake your head again, looking back to the tv.

“No. It’s not nothing. You seem upset.” He pauses the tv and pulls you towards him by your legs. You couldn’t see your own face, but you felt that familiar ache in your chest, only assuming the look on your face matched what you were feeling.

“I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff.” You pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, crossing your arms over yourself.

“What stuff? Sad stuff?” His brows furrow. Even under the mask you can see the pure concern.

You can’t believe you’re about to open up about this. You’re terrified but you don’t know how much longer you can keep up this act. Keep pretending that your entire mind, body and soul doesn’t yearn for the man next to you. You clear your throat, “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“What are you talking about? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that right?” His hand rubs comforting circles over the side of your thigh.

You take a deep breath, your eyes close in a long blink before you speak. “Ivy. I like you. I really like you. More than a friend should ever like a friend.” You pause, your words getting caught in your throat. IV’s hand stops moving on your leg but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I owe it to myself to let you know. I love spending time with you but I can’t just act like I don’t have strong feelings for you, not anymore.”

You look at him, frozen in his seat. You’re screaming at him in your head. To say anything to you. To give you any sign that he really heard what you just said.

It feels like forever before he speaks. “How long? Have you felt this way?” His voice is quiet.

You shake your head, not expecting that answer. “Since I met you.”

He lets out a breath he seemed to be holding, his head falling forward. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” He pulls you to sit fully across his lap and you let him, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” You blink at him.

“I mean, I really like you. I’ve never said anything because I was so sure you weren’t interested.” He reaches up hold the side of your face. “I flirt with you and try my damn best make you feel special, hoping maybe one day, I’d have the confidence to finally say something. Even if it meant the end of our friendship. I’ve always wanted to tell you.”

You want to pinch yourself, convinced you’re dreaming.

“So… this whole time we’ve both just been torturing ourselves?”

He laughs softly, his thumb swiping back and forth over your cheek. “I guess so.” His eyes repeatedly flick down to your mouth. “Funny how that works, huh?”

Your mind races with thoughts of surprise, confusion and pure happiness as you try to make sense of his words.

You notice the way his breath quickens as his hand slowly reaches up to pull his mask up over his mouth. You meet him halfway as he leans into you, your mouths meeting in a hesitant kiss. It starts slow, occasionally interrupted by shy smiles from both of you. He tilts his head when he feels you grip the back of his neck, letting his tongue swipe over your bottom lip. A quiet and low groan leaves him when his tongue finds yours. His hands run up and down your back, squeezing your sides occasionally.

He gently guides you to lay on the couch, his mouth never leaving yours. He half straddles your hips and lets you pull him down so his chest is against yours. His mouth moves to kiss your cheek, across your jaw and down the side of your neck. A breathy whine leaving your mouth when you feel his tongue press to your skin.

Your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to yours. You’re rewarded with a deep groan, his hips bucking into yours.

He pulls away from your neck breathlessly. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

You smile up at him and bring your hands up to cup his face. “I’m more than okay with this. Trust me. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

He nods his head and turns to press a kiss to your palm. “Me too.” His voice soft and sweet. His hand caressing your cheek and jaw before he pushes himself off you to stand, impatient hands working over the button and zipper on his jeans.

You take the opportunity to push your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, the two of you unabashedly watching each other undress.

He’s on you again before you know it, his mouth attaching to yours again. Your hands wander under his shirt to roam his back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. His hand cups your jaw as he kisses you as if you’re his life source. He presses his hips to yours firmly and you can’t stop the moan you let out into his mouth. The feel of his bare skin on yours making you impatient.

“Hold on, love.” He mumbles on your lips before pulling away from you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his chest. “I feel like my hearts gonna beat out of my chest.” He lets out a breathy laugh.

You feel his heart racing under your palm, yours not feeling much different. “It’s okay. Mine too.” You give him a small nod and smile. “I’ll help, okay?” You reach a hand between the two of you, your hand nudging his cock before you wrap your fingers around him. He lets out a deep breath at the contact.

Your hand slowly slides down his shaft and back up again, your thumb catching a bead of his arousal before swirling it around on his tip. He whines a needy mewl above you, his eyes closing. The sound only makes the ache between your thighs ten times worse. You want to watch him like this forever, but let’s be honest, you’d waited 2 years for this already and you were done being patient.

Your fingers continue working him as you bring your other hand to your mouth, gathering some spit in your palm. Your wet palm soon replaces your fingers, pumping him smoothly. He bucks into your hand, another whimper leaving his mouth. You spread your legs open further and angle your hips up.

He gets the hint, angling his hips down slightly, his hand guiding his cock to press against you. He locks eyes with you again before slowly pushing himself in halfway. He leans down to you, mouths connecting in a hot, open mouth kiss. He draws his hips back before he’s even fully buried, and snaps them back in with a quick thrust. It catches you off guard, fingers digging into his side, a moan muffled by iv’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve just waited too long for this.” A groan punctuates his sentence. His cock slips in and out of you with ease as he picks up his pace. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him back down to you again. His quiet grunts sounding ever so nice in your ear. “I wanna look at you.” He says as he pushes himself up, hands gripping your sides as he looks down at you.

You can’t help but look down to where the two of you are connected, your teeth biting over your bottom lip as you whimper at the sight. Your hand slowly makes its way down to play with yourself, your eyes snapping up to look at iv.

He breathes out a huff and quickly nods his head. His attention fully on the way your hand moves over yourself, as well at how his cock glides in and out of you.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar feeling in your lower half to blossom. You could tell iv was on the edge as well, his movements loosing the fluidity they once had. He bends down to pepper small kisses on your cheek. “You gonna cum with me?” He hums as you quickly nod, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your climax crashing over you. Your hips buck up to him as you grip his bicep, a long string of moans leaving you.

IV’s release is right behind yours. His brows furrowed, mouth hung open slightly, eyes squeezed shut. He lets himself collapse over you, but still careful to not use his full weight. His head is in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and shallow. You feel his hips spasm against yours, the movement sending a weak shock through you.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up. You both let out a soft groan as he pulls out of you. He looks down at you with a relaxed smile, his hand reaching out to smooth over the top of your head. “You’re telling me, we could’ve been doing that this whole time?” He chuckles.

You laugh, lightly nudging him with your knee. “I guess so.”

He helps you sit up before walking you to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth with warm water before he gently cleans you up. He helps you get dressed before running to the kitchen to get you some water.

He joins you back on the couch, his arm falling around your shoulders as you cuddle up to him. The two of you knowing you’d not regret the decision to open up about how you felt this whole time.

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This is looong sorry, I got a little carried away.

Absolutely loved this idea! Hope you enjoyed anon! 🤍

K. Bye bye.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Is it possible to do head cannons for digital circus characters with a reader who's too nice for their own good

Like they get in danger when trying to talk to the bad guy npc thinking that they could persuade them to the good side

TADC cast x reader whos too nice!

Anon I'm so so sorry that it took me so long to get to this <\3! I gotta admit I've been in like, a bit of a burn out recently and I'm still recovering from my baking spree last week so I'm WOOOooOoooooO

That said I hope you enjoy!

Written ambiguously, if you want to see this as romantic or platonic, is totally up to you!

CAINE:

Literally puts a pause on the IHA when he sees you being dragged away by the big bad guy, all while still trying to insist that the NPC with no chance to gain sentience can be good.. caine finds it endearing in it's own way, its sweet, you see the best in people... and non-people... but reader, this is exactly how you get hurt..! Keeps a close eye on you during IHA

POMNI:

While I dont think pomni fits the "too nice for her own good" vibe, I feel that shes... what word am i looking for? Submissive? She kind of just goes with what others are doing; asides from her initial freak out we dont see much pushback from her in the pilot, though that could be thanks to shock... perhaps shes still feeling it during IHAs given how random and intense they can be..? Point is I think pomni would give a meek resistance before scurrying off after you, trying to save you from the clutches of the baddie

RAGATHA:

Shes loves you so much, dont get her wrong. She loves that you're so sweet to everyone, even to those who dont deserve it. Actually if anything, Ragatha is also a little too sweet for her own good.. but shes not as trusting and naive as you are. Frantically pulls you away to the side when you try to make your way to the days villain, gently scolding you and asking what you were thinking. She doesnt mean to make you feel bad, but she doesn't want to see you hurt!

JAX:

One of the only two characters that might get a little mean with you. Not like "mean as in berating you for being so naive" more so "I'm upset that you seemingly have no regard for your safety, I care about you and I cant see you continue to throw yourself into danger" way that can come off as mean, since jax isnt really.. the best as saying this softly.. immediately cuts through any "what ifs" you might bring up to him, you're the only person in this circus that he actually enjoys and hes not going to let you get flung around.. can his tone be softer? Sure, but can you blame him if this is a regular occurrence?

KINGER:

This poor man nearly has a heart attack when he sees you about to be absolutely demolished (but not really thanks to the digital world), probably ends in him getting hurt too.. but that would be mean.. but also can you imagine the angst? The guilt? He probably pushes through the pain to get to you and hes just. Feverishly pulling you to him and patting you down to make sure you're okay... he won't tell you to stop being so nice; in fact I dont think the thought crosses his mind ever.. but he does ask to never do that again, the getting into danger thing

ZOOBLE:

The other character that might get a little mean when confronting you about it, but given zoobles general attitude as well as their tone of voice, it seems like they're more angry with you than they actually are. They think you're too nice for your own good, truly. While the others may find it sweet and endearing, they're constantly thinking about how one day you'll be in over your head and wont have a way out. This might actually result in an argument, thanks to zoobles tone and way of going about things.. but you guys eventually communicate and make up, at least I would like to think so

GANGLE:

Very similar to pomni in the regard that she doesnt have the spine (haha) to tell you not to do whatever you're planning on doing. "I don't think... oh.. oh wait, reader-" as she scurries after you so you dont get lost. Gets legitimately sad and beats herself up if you get hurt. Similar to zoobles, you guys are going to need to communicate and work together on this because gangle cannot handle the fact that you're constantly getting hurt thanks to your kindness grating on her mind all day every day

[peavhyshy]

𝗣𝗘𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦 (oneshot)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: In which you keep JJ company while he recovers from COVID-19, playing nurse and cuddling up to take care of him.

Warnings: covid-19, sexually suggestive comments, fluff, some angst?, mild language, mention of JJ's dad, JJ kisses reader even though he has COVID, obviously you shouldn't kiss someone if you have covid but this based on that one Lana Del Rey lyric

Words: 1,424

Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Peppers (the lana song)

You knocked on the screen door of the worn-down beach house, peering inside for any signs of life. "JJ?" you called out.

A round of violent coughing echoed from down the hall followed by a raspy voice. "In here!"

You let yourself in, wrinkling your nose at the lingering scent of beer and cigarettes that permeated the Maybank home. You found JJ curled up on the couch, wrapped in a tattered blanket. His nose was red, his blond hair a tangled mess. Used tissues littered the coffee table in front of him.

"You look like death," you said, plopping down on the couch next to him.

JJ cracked a smile. "Thanks, that makes me feel so much better." His voice was hoarse.

You playfully hit his arm. "You know what I mean. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just dandy," JJ said. "Peachy keen." He erupted into another fit of coughing.

You grabbed a half-empty glass of water from the table and handed it to him. "Here, drink this."

JJ took a few sips to soothe his throat. "So I'm guessing you got my text about testing positive for the 'rona?"

"Yup, got it this morning," You said. As you absentmindedly pushed JJ's hair back from his sweaty forehead to feel his temperature.

"And you still came over?" JJ asked in disbelief. "I'm like super contagious right now."

You shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a ride or die. Gotta make sure you're okay."

JJ grinned and pulled you in for a big sloppy kiss. You squealed and pushed him away.

"Ew JJ! What the hell?" You dramatically wiped your mouth.

"Hey, you're the one who came to see me, COVID cooties and all," JJ said with a laugh that turned into a cough. "Might as well seal the deal and swap some germs."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling. "You're disgusting." you tossed him the TV remote. "Now pick something to watch while I make you some soup or something. We'll ride out this quarantine together."

JJ clicked on the TV, settling back into the couch. "You know, you really are the best."

"Yeah, yeah," you waved dismissively but you were still smiling. "Just don't cough on me anymore."

JJ grinned mischievously at you despite his sickly state. "Don't tempt me, I have no problem about getting you sick too if it means more time with my best girl." He faked a dramatic coughing fit, eliciting an exaggerated sigh from you though he could tell you weren't actually annoyed with him.

"You're just loving having me play nurse for you, aren't you?" You joked as you headed to the kitchen. He could get used to being quarantined if you were taking care of him, that was for sure. Maybe he'd milk this illness a little longer than necessary.

JJ stretched out languidly on the couch, the old springs creaking beneath his weight. He grabbed another tissue to blow his nose which was growing raw and irritated from constant wiping. At least he could still vaguely taste and smell - the steaming bowl of soup you soon presented to him was evidence of that.

"You're a lifesaver, I don't know what I'd do without you Y/N," JJ said earnestly after finishing the entire bowl in record time, his appetite apparently unaffected. He playfully patted the spot on the couch next to him, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Now, nurse, I believe your patient requires some additional tender loving care, if you know what I mean."

"Come on baby, you know you want to play nurse with me," he cajoled, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. He faked another dramatic coughing fit. "I think I need some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," he joked, making exaggerated kissing noises.

Truth be told, he just wanted you close to him, to feel your soothing presence. Having you here taking care of him made him feel cared for in a way he rarely experienced from his drunk deadbeat dad. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you down onto the couch. You let out a surprised squeak as you fell into his lap. JJ wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck.

"Mmm you smell good," he mumbled, breathing in the sweet floral scent of your skin and hair. You squirmed against him but didn't fully pull away. JJ reached up and playfully tugged on one of your strands of hair.

"Just let me hold you for a bit," he pleaded, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. "It'll help me feel better, I promise." He cracked a mischievous grin. "Unless you want to do more than cuddle…" he added suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.

You felt your cheeks flush as JJ pulled you into his lap, his arms holding you close. Despite his illness, that cocky grin of his still made your stomach flutter.

"JJ!" You tried to scold, but couldn't keep the smile off your face. His enthusiasm was infectious. You playfully swatted his hands away as they drifted to your chest.

"Cuddle only mister. I'm immune to those puppy dog eyes," You said firmly. Still, you relaxed into his embrace, nestling your head on his shoulder.

"For now at least," JJ teased, his warm breath tickling your ear. 

Maybe you’d regret this later, but right now taking care of a sick JJ felt natural. He needed you- and knowing that filled you with purpose. You glanced up at him, heart melting at the open affection in his eyes. You reached up and traced the bruise on his jaw from his latest fight.

"I'll always be here to patch you up JJ," you murmured. Impulsively you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. JJ sighed in contentment, tightening his arms around you. For now, you simply held each other, letting the steady beats of your hearts lull you into comfort. The rest of the world could wait.

''Will your dad be back soon?''

JJ glanced nervously at the front door before settling his gaze back on you. "He shouldn't be back for a while," he said quietly. "Went on one of his benders last night so he'll probably sleep through the day."

JJ shifted on the worn couch, wincing slightly as the movement aggravated his sore ribs. He hoped you wouldn't notice - the last thing he wanted was your pity. "I wish he'd just disappear for good," JJ muttered bitterly. He scrubbed a hand across his face, not wanting to dwell on his useless excuse for a father.

"Anyway, enough about him," JJ said, forcing a grin. "I've got way better company right now."

He playfully tugged on one of the hair strands, admiring how the sunlight filtering through the blinds brought out the highlights in your hair. You were so beautiful it made his chest ache. JJ wished he could freeze this moment - just the two of you here together, your kind eyes gazing at him with understanding rather than judgment.

"You're too good to me Y/N," JJ said quietly. Before he could overthink it, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your skin was petal soft beneath his lips.

JJ pulled back, heart hammering in his chest. He gave you a crooked smile, hoping you couldn't hear how loud it was beating. "So, wanna raid the crappy cable TV options with me? We can trash talk all the awful daytime soaps."

You looked shocked, unable to speak for a few moments before recovering. You composed yourself before answering, "You know I'll always be here for you JJ, whenever you need me." You give him a soft smile, trying to convey your sincerity. If he wants to drop the subject of his father and move on, you'll happily oblige.

"Daytime TV sounds perfect right now. Let's see who can come up with the most ridiculous plot summaries for these shows," You say with a playful grin. You grab the remote and start flipping through channels, settling on a particularly melodramatic soap opera.

Leaning into JJ's side, you point at the screen. "Okay, that guy definitely just found out the kid he's raising isn't actually his. And that woman is clearly his scorned ex-lover who's out for revenge." You dissolve into giggles, amused by your own silly narration.

You are glad to see JJ's somber mood start to lift, a small smile creeping onto his face. Moments like these make all the chaos and hardship feel worth it. As long as you have each other, you'll be okay.

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “How’d we get ourselves into this?”

This is a short friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions of love, fluff piece. Maybe a little angst too?

A/N: I never really write stories that are happening in the canon of the actual show so I had this idea of what if Eddie and his best friend (who are in love with each other) are stuck in the Upsidedown(the first time), thinking they have no time left. What would they do?

I hope y’all like it!

You jumped as a particularly loud crash of red lightning lit up the dark sky of the Upsidedown. You couldn’t believe this place existed -that monsters existed- yet, here you were; bloody, bruised, and bitten after fighting off those damn bat things. All because you couldn’t let Eddie go alone, not again.

Eddie and you were inseparable, best friends since kindergarten. He was your first real friend, your first date to a middle school dance, your first kiss during spin the bottle, and unbeknownst to him, your first and only love. You were so in love with him it almost hurt to be around him. But it hurt so much worse to be apart. So you stayed by his side in any way he’d have you.

Your group had found some cover at this world's version of Skull Rock, trying to recover a bit as you came up with a plan of how to get out of this mess. Wanting to give Steve some privacy as Nancy patched him up, you had walked over to a fallen log that was somehow almost completely vineless and sat down, losing yourself in your thoughts as the others talked behind you.

“Hey sweetheart.” You jumped, startled, as Eddie plopped down next to you with a small smile. “Whatcha thinking about in that beautiful head of yours?” He asked, nudging his shoulder into yours lightly.

You nudged him back as you shook your head, “Just-” you sighed, “how’d we get ourselves into this Eds?” You said with a disbelieving chuckle.

“Bad luck. As usual. Sorry I dragged you into this sweetheart.” He said, disappointment lacing his words, he hated that you were now in danger because of him.

You scoffed at that as you looped your arm with his and leaned your head on his shoulder, missing the way his breath hitched in his throat, “You didn’t, you dork. I dragged myself into it. There’s no way Eddie Munson was gonna get to have all the fun without me.” You joked.

“Oh, so much fun.” He chuckled, “This is exactly how I wanted my spring break to go. Running from the cops is so much better than the theme park we were gonna go to.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you Eddie.” You said, looking up at him as he turned to look at you, “You don’t deserve this.”

“Thank you doll. I gotta say, I’m glad you’re here.” You raised your eyebrows as you looked at the forest around you and then back at him. He grinned, “Well not glad that we’re here, but that you’re here with me. I-I don’t think I could do this without you.” He said, some newfound bravery lighting up in his chest. “I need you sweetheart.”

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you were worried it might break though your rib cage. “I need you too Eddie.” You said as you removed your head from his shoulder to look at him properly.

“I thought I was going to lose you out there, you know. I was worried we weren’t gonna make it out before I could tell you.” He started, confidence rushing through his body.

“Tell me what?” Your mouth felt dry and you knew your hands would be shaking if they weren’t gripping on to your best friend so tightly.

Eddie looked at you like you had hung his moon and stars as he brought a shaky hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused thumb rubbing gently into your soft skin, “I love you sweetheart. Always have. You’re fucking everything to me.”

You felt a spark of electricity run through your body much like the lightning striking around you as you rushed forward and crashed your lips to his in long overdue kiss. He didn’t react at first and you panicked, thinking you might have done something wrong, and tried to pull back but you were stopped by Eddie as he chased your lips and kissed you back desperately.

You broke apart, breathless, “I love you so fucking much Eds, it’s always been you.” You admitted, “I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

A big smile broke out on Eddie’s face, the largest he’s had for days as he saw the stars in your eyes. He leaned his forehead on yours and bumped your noses. “I’m yours, if you’ll have me, be mine? For however long we have left.”

“I already am, I’ve always been yours Eds.” You smiled, kissing him again as you both ignored the monstrous world around you- even if just for a moment- and melted into each other.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @aroseinvelaris @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-titties @becca-alexa @catacina @lma1986

[foreverrandomwritings]

this soft & sweet prompt with dean winchester 🥹 romantic

“you’re not alone. you never were.”

Burgers, Fries and Pie?

Summary: After waking up from a nightmare Dean does his best to soothe you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: Death, torture, blood, nightmares, guns, hospitals, little angst and fluff.

Word count: 773 (short and sweet)

Masterlist M's Hundered Celly Masterlist

Dean had jolted out of his sleep as a scream ripped through the air around him. He sat up quickly, grabbing the gun under his pillow and scanned the room. He thought for a moment that maybe he had imagined the scream and laid back down. He put his gun back and reached out across the bed for you. His hand met the skin of your arm and you jerked another scream ripping through the air. 

“Honey, you gotta wake up.” He gently tried to wake you up. He reached out for you again barely laying a hand on your arm before you were shooting up. 

“No. Get off him. No. Please. Please don’t hurt him.” You were sobbing as you struggled to get away from him. 

“Honey it’s me. It’s Dean.” His voice was soothing as he spoke to you. Your chest was heaving violently as you struggled to control your breathing.

“Dean?” Your voice barely above a whisper as the word slipped from your lips. 

“I’ve got you, It’s okay.” He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears off your cheeks as your eyes connected with his. 

“You were gone Dean. They killed you right in front of me.” More tears crawled along your cheeks as you spoke. He wiped them away smoothly, understanding seeping through him. One of your biggest fears was losing him, you’d come close last month on a vampire hunt. They had gotten the drop on both of you, their numbers larger than you expected. Had Sam not shown up you doubt either of you would have made it out alive. They had been seconds away from bleeding Dean dry when Sam had shot through the door. 

“They didn’t kill me, I survived. I’m here with you.” You brought your hands up to cup his much larger ones that were on your cheeks. The rough feeling of his skin against the smoother palms of your hands grounded you back to the room. Your breathing slowly steadied as he gave you a smile. 

“I can’t be alone Dean. You can’t leave me alone.” You searched his face, looked at the freckles along his cheeks committing every tiny dot to memory. 

“You’re not alone. You never were.” You had spent years alone, your parents having died shortly after your seventeenth birthday. You had decided to go camping around your twenty third birthday. That’s when the Winchester brothers found you on a hunt. You had been captured by a Wendigo that they were hunting. You were worse for wear and you hadn’t expected to live much longer until they came blasting through the doors. In the glory of flannels and molotov cocktails. 

They had taken you to a hospital and Dean had decided to stay with you while you recovered. He didn’t want you to wake up without any answers to questions he knew you’d have. When you woke up he eased you through everything. You had quickly decided you’d never leave his side again. So you have been with them ever since. Learning the ways of hunting and going from motel to motel with them. But you always feared that this life was a dream and you were still alone in that nasty cave with the even nastier monster. 

“I will never leave you alone honey. I promise.” He meant the promise to, no matter what he would make sure to make it back to you. Even if he died he would find some way out of it. 

“Can we go grab something to eat?” You asked him abruptly, wanting to get out of the room to take your mind off the nightmare you had just been pulled out of. 

“What’re you thinking?” He asked you a spark in his eyes. He scanned your face, taking in the dip of your nose, the shape of your lips and every small imperfection. He would never get sick of being able to look at someone so breathtaking. 

“Burgers, fries and pie?” You asked him cocking your head slightly. You already knew that he was going to go with you, the man would never pass up food. 

“I knew I loved you. Let’s go, I saw a diner up the street.” He was pulling you out of bed as he went. Throwing your jeans and shirt at you. You shrugged off his flannel you had fallen asleep in before slipping into your clothes. As you walked out the door you pulled his flannel back on. Slipping into the passenger seat of the Impala, AC/DC spilling from the speakers, his hand in yours, you knew you would never be alone.

A/N: I really really really loved writing this. Thank you for this request Meg! Definitely thinking about actually finishing my first ever fanfic I posted on this hellsite.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell

[dilflover-4ever]

Caught Josh Kiska

wc: 2.0k

Josh x f!reader

Warnings: slight angst, asshole Josh, illness(?), arguing, fingering (f receiving…), making out, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), kind of a caught in the act moment

Be aware of shitty writing and poor editing, sorry

When you catch the flu during the break of tour, you don’t think you’ll be ready to deal with Josh’s antics. Unless you don’t have to.

All intimate acts are consensual and this is fiction.

Fic under the cut

~~~~~~~

Being on tour was tiring and you weren’t even preforming, but what made it even worse was the fact that you were stuck with your best friend Sam’s older brother 24/7. Josh made it seem as if getting on your nerves was the way that he got off. He did it so much that you've learned to just try and tune him out, ignoring him to the best of your abilities. Not only did he just piss you off but sometimes he was just flat out mean. Making comments about you personally, about how you act or talk. He knew where to hit you the hardest and it didn’t make life any easier. He was a complete dick to you only and there was nothing you could do about it.

Like today, minding your business, sitting on the couch on your phone. You hadn't been feeling well since last night, narrowing it down to a common cold you were just chilling. Obviously your peace had to be disturbed at some point but you didn't think it would be so soon when a hard smack on the back of your head. It caused you to rip your head up, hand immediately searching to soothe the ache from the hit. A laugh came from the offender. It was him, Josh, of- fucking- course, “Oh my God Josh leave me alone.” This was you trying to get him to leave you alone easily. But you knew he wouldn’t as he smirked with a scoff. “Josh I’m not in the mood for this right now, I said leave me alone, go bother someone else.”

“Honey i’m just messing with you calm the fuck down.” There’s no way. Your absolute biggest pet peeve was when somebody told you to “chill” or “calm down”. It just made you enraged and fired up. Like who does someone think they are where they can tell you how to control your emotions. Especially when you were just a little ticked off. "I am calm Josh! but you ruined it!" You told him. "I didn't even hit you that hard what are you on about?" Was his reply. “God Josh just leave me the fuck alone! You're so stupid! You bother me every second of every day and you have a random problem with me for no reason!" You said, a tingling coming from your nose, causing you to aggressively wipe it. "I never said I had a problem with you." He claimed. "Oh then please enlighten me Josh, why do you always ha-” Your yelling was cut short when you sneezed into your elbow, body jerking. When you had thought you recovered and you got ready to start yelling again until the sneeze was followed by a dry throat and a cough attack, you couldn't control it. It felt like you were coughing a lung up, it was painful and loud. In the distance you heard a door open and Sam was soon by your side holding you up while trying to avoid getting in your face and getting sick.

“Woah woah, y/n are you sick?” He said, leading you to take a seat on the couch of the shared hotel suite. Danny and Jake came in the living room to see what all of the commotion was from. The coughing had subsided but the pain in your throat remained. “Yeah it's just a cold dont worry about it.” You tried reassuring them you were fine, knowing you wanted to join them on the walk through town and dinner. Jake walked up holding a glass of water. You took it gratefully and gulped it down.

“So what about tonight? When are we leaving?” You asked. They all stood around you staring until Danny chimed in, “Y/n you gotta stay here, there's no way you're good enough to walk around with us.” "No I-" You went to disagree until another voice cut you off. “Oh come on guys she's just being dramatic, she wants attention.” An offended look crossed your face, “Oh fuck off Josh.” Sam said, turning to face his brother. Jake's phone went off and he pulled out his phone to read it. “Hey guys, we gotta go, our dinner reservations are soon.”

They all turned back to you as you moved to get up. “Woah no, no, no, slow down, you're staying here.” Sam spoke, ignoring the rude glare you gave him. “We’ll bring you back something alright? Just text me what you want.” Jake said, sliding his shoes on. A scoff came from Josh followed by a muttered “unbelievable” You waved them off and they walked out the door.

Shortly after turning a movie on, you quickly fall asleep, ignoring the request for information on your dinner order. You cuddled the blanket to your chin, legs sticking out to avoid overheating.

~~~~~~~

The next morning you awoke to the sound of coughing in the main room, so it wasn't coming from you? You try to fall back to sleep once it is quiet again. Until it started back up, louder this time. You shifted up into a sitting position, groaning when you were met with a sharp pain right in the middle of your head. You got up and shuffled to the door. Opening it you were met with the sight of Josh hunched over the kitchen counter the area around him littered with used tissues. A smirk came across your face, “Aw the little baby is having tummy issues.” you said with faux concern your voice hoarse from sleep and soreness . He turned towards you, throwing a scowl your way “Shut up.”

The other boys entered the room and grimaced at the sight of you and Josh. A laugh left Danny’s lips. “You guys look like shit.” You smiled but Josh took it differently and threw the box of tissues at Danny. “Ok well we are gonna go run some errands, get some groceries and shit for the next couple days of break.” Sam said and followed with, “You two stay here, and please don't fight, I'm not sure either of you can take it.”

“Ah fuck off Sammy” Josh said, moving to sit on the couch. “Ok guys bye, have fun.” You could barely get through the statement without coughing. Once they left you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch from Josh. Once you were comfortable you reached for the remote, but you couldn't beat Josh as he grabbed it and leaned back into his spot. “Stupid fucker” you grumbled. “Don't turn on some shitty show.” You spoke. He retaliated with, “You don't have to watch then bitch.” You scoffed and grabbed your phone deciding to ignore the tv.

After around thirty minutes the show got your attention. It wasn’t good… per se but more the idiocy of the characters was entertaining. You and Josh made comments and even made each other laugh. It was nice, not being in a constant argument with him. You tried to take it in and not say anything passive aggressive. As the show played on you couldn't stop laughing. Josh joined in, an uncontrollable fit of laughter taking over. Nothing was even funny, you just couldn't stop laughing. “You know, you aren't too bad sweetheart.” You turned in Josh’s direction to see him looking at you with a smile. “Josh you’re fucking delirious.” You laughed and turned back towards the screen. He moved to sit closer to you, making you notice his lack of shirt. “Woah cowboy getting undressed already?” You still were laughing. “Alright now your turn,” He said but when he noticed your eyes shooting wide he added, “No i'm joking but I was being serious when I said you weren't so bad.”

With uncertainty you patted his shoulder, “Thanks Josh you aren't so terrible either.” He sat back and put his arm around your shoulders, a cheesy smile plastered on his face. When you met his eyes they were squinted, the illness getting to them. His eyes flashed down to your lips. When a giggled escaped you his eyes met yours again. He laughed and smiled, leaning in closer to your face. “Will you kiss me y/n?” You nodded and leaned in, meeting his lips with your own. It deepened when his tongue slipped between your lips, fighting with your own. You moaned and moved to straddle his lap, leaning his to his touch as he grabbed your hips.

As the kiss continued, his hands played with the hem of your sleep shirt which ironically had his face on it. The shirt was a secret Santa gag gift you received with the faces of all four boys on it. Disconnecting your lips from his, you pulled back to lift your shirt over your head. The cold air met your burning skin as you reconnected with Josh. He reached up and took both breasts into his own hands, moaning into the kiss. You rested your hands on his shoulders and ground your hips down onto him. That made moans fall from both of your mouths. You pulled back and he smiled. “What the fuck are we doing?” You responded with a laugh and he giggled into your neck as he peppered kissing along the side. You shifted up to pull on his waistband. He got the hint and lifted his hips to pull them down to his knees. Your hand drifted down as you took him in your palm giving sift gentle strokes in an attempt to get him to full hardness.

He leaned back into the couch and gave a lazy smile. You smiled back in a dazed state and leaned forward to capture his lips. The kiss was slow and sensual, both of you taking the time to enjoy it. His hand reached to your shorts, he tapped the outside of your thighs and you stood to removed them along with your underwear. Once you were back on his lap he ran his middle finger through your slit. The unexpectedness caused a sharp gasp to leave your mouth. “Aw all wet for me baby?” He grinned up at you and continued touching you. You laughed and leaned towards him. He brought his finger up to circle your clit. You felt your warm breath as it left your mouth and hit his neck.

“Come on Josh stop teasing me.” He could feel your smile as you said it and felt it drop when he slipped his finger inside. He dragged it back and forth, in and out of you eliciting whimpers to fall from your lips. “Think you can take another baby?” He questioned, a hum of ‘mhm’ left you in agreement. Once he had his two fingers inside you, scissoring them apart to stretch you open. You decided you didn't want to wait. “Josh,” You whimpered. “Yeah mama, what is it?” He asked. “Need your cock.” His fingers stalled inside of you as a groan fell from him. “Fuck baby you cant say that, I wont be able to hold myself back.”

“Don't then.” You pulled back to lift your hips up, the blanket pooling around your hips on his lap as he lined himself up. He dragged the tip through your slit, moving your arousal through it. Once he reached your entrance he slowly started pushing in. “Shit Josh,” You said, sliding down all of the way down his shaft. You fluttered around him. He groaned and pulled you back by the back of your neck, making your lips meet with his.

You started lifting your hips up and letting them fall back down slowly. “Oh so now you wanna tease me, you can't do that mama.” Fuck, that name. You smiled and allowed a breathy laugh to pass your lips. He grinned as he grabbed your hips, forcing you to go faster. The sounds of your skin slapping filled the room, accompanied by the moans and groans coming from both you and Josh.

You felt the coil tighten in your stomach, familiarizing yourself with the burn. You clenched around him and then wrapped your arms loosely over his shoulders. “Josh, I'm so close.” You grabbed onto the back of his neck tighter, pulling yourself into him, his face now in your neck. “I know baby it’s okay, let go for me.” His grip on your hips tightened and you could feel the marks forming that you were sure would be dark by tomorrow. You whimpered what you thought was his name but you weren't so sure, as you were completely wrapped up in the pleasure. Noticing a falter in your movements Josh took over, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. The sex sounds filling the room blocked both of your ears along with Josh’s. Neither of you heard the door knob shift, turning and the door being pushed inward.

“Guys- WOAH” Sam yelled. “My eyes!” Danny said, both of them turning away and rubbing at their eyes as Jake just laughed with a shrug and turned around with the others. A shriek came from you and both you and Josh froze before he scrambled to pull the blanket up over your shoulders, covering the both of you. You turned back to face Josh and you both cracked a smile before breaking into laughter. It seemed there was no end to the laughing as the boys looked back up after noticing your coverage. “Holy shit how delirious are they?” Danny said, making the journey to his room. “I dont fucking know dude,” Sam replied, “At least they arent fighting.” Jake added. “Hey yall get your shit together and finish up we got more medicine.” Sam finished before following the others.

You and Josh calmed down and moved to get redressed, not really feeling the mood anymore. Josh leaned into your ear, breathing down your neck. “We can finish this later tonight, need to see you come undone on my cock.” With that he got up and walked into his room. There was silence until you heard harsh coughs coming from his room, you laughed and moved towards your room.

~~~~~~~

edit: ok wait why is this so shit

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 6

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, alcoholism behavior, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Chapter notes: Look ma, no smut! Sorry, things are still rough for a l'il bit. Shit's getting plottier. CW for some alcoholic-like behavior, so y'know, take care of yourself.

(Also, I recognize that technically Sarah died the day after Joel's birthday, but in my head, it's all one big, awful day for him.)

“Are you mad at me?”

Her voice is so small when she asks the question, seated at the kitchen table across from him as he changes the dressing on her burn. She’d stubbornly refused his help at first, but applying the gauze and tape one-handed was trickier than it looked, and she eventually caved, trudging downstairs to sit at the kitchen table while he goes over the burn care instructions from the clinic.

“Damn right I am,” he growls, narrowing his eyes as he dabs salve on the gauze to prevent it from sticking to the damaged skin before lightly recovering the wound. He finishes applying the last piece of tape, then he sighs and sinks back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. “No. That ain’t it. I’m not…mad, Ellie. I’m just worried about you.”

He swallows hard, choosing his next words carefully, always on thin ice.

“We can’t keep goin’ like this, kid,” he murmurs. “You gotta start talkin’ to me.”

“I know,” she whispers, biting at her lower lip. “Ezra said I should tell you.”

The name puts a lump in his throat. He pretends to be very interested in putting the first aid supplies away. “He did, huh?”

“But I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“Yeah, I woulda,” he snaps, then sighs when she winces. “I just…I don’t get what you were thinkin’, Ellie. But…I want to understand. I’m tryin’ to.”

He tucks everything back into the plastic box and latches it, shoving it aside before turning to meet her eyes, trying to keep his voice soft and level. “Can you help me understand?”

She flinches. “It’s just…every time I see that stupid scar, I remember…I remember them. Riley and Tess and Sam and Henry and…it’s like a big fucking flashing sign reminding me that they died for nothing–“

“That’s not–“

“No,” she cuts in. “You wanted to understand and I’m trying to fucking tell you so just let me talk.”

He sits back, stung. “Alright.”

“This stupid scar…it was supposed to mean something. But it didn’t work out, and now…it’s just a reminder of everything I couldn’t do. And I didn’t want to look at it anymore.”

“That wasn’t…Marlene should never have put that on you,” he says. “You’re just a–“

She scoffs. “I’m ‘just a kid’, right? Because that’s all I’ve ever been. Marlene didn’t ‘put that on me,’ Joel. She believed in me.”

Her fist clenches on the table, and all Joel can think is how much it must hurt, the way her forearm tightens, pulling at the damaged skin. His hand reflexively comes out to cover hers, but she yanks it back.

“You don’t know what it’s like to grow up without anyone . You had your brother and Tess and…and Sarah. People who needed you. But all I had was Riley, and even she fucking left.

“But Marlene saw me and it was like…like I was more than just another dumb FEDRA kid. She knew my mom, she…knew me before anyone else. And she gave me a purpose. And every time I look at that stupid scar, I…I’m just…it’s like I lose that all over again.”

His hands twitch with the effort it takes to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms. The only thing that stops him is shame, the knowledge that he’d been the one to put a bullet between Marlene’s eyes, and what Ellie would think of him if she knew.

“Baby girl,” he begins slowly. “ I believe in you. Tommy an’ Maria an’…an’ Ezra. We’re all here for you . We need you . Not your immunity, not some…some fairytale cure. Just you, Ellie.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah…I know.”

He shakes his head, takes her face in his hands as she’s trying to look away. “No, I don’t think you do. And you need to get it through that stubborn head of yours before you hurt yourself again, y’hear me?”

She looks like she wants to say more, but doesn’t. She just nods, eyes shining. And then he can’t resist, leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead, standing so he can pull her into a hug.

“C’mere.”

And she does, wrapping her good arm around his waist, pressing her face to his chest.

“You…are the only thing that matters here, Ellie,” he says softly. “You. Just you, kid.”

Summer bleeds into fall and Ellie goes back to school. Her arm heals, the old scar covered by a new one that doesn’t betray her immunity. For all Joel’s reservations, the burn seems to have helped put something right in her, and she comes back to him in increments.

She’s eating again, sneaking her portion of venison steak onto his plate and stealing his dinner roll when she thinks he’s not looking. She even suggests they set up a weekly dinner around the new fire pit while the weather holds. She meets him at the stables after patrol so they can walk home together. The light slowly comes back into her eyes.

She’s still seeing Ezra. Joel is not.

They sit on the back porch together at night and he shows her the basics on her guitar, but he can’t bring himself to play. When thoughts of Ezra surface, he pushes them roughly aside and turns back to her. This is what he knows, this is what he’s made for. It’s for the best, he tells himself, and it’s even easier to believe when Ellie smiles.

But sometimes at night, when his body aches from a long day’s work and his mind refuses to still, he misses him.

And then it’s the worst day of the year.

They have an understanding–no presents, no parties, there’s nothing to celebrate. But he compromises because it’s Ellie and because she’s warming up to him again. They’ll have dinner at home, just the two of them. He thinks he overhears something about a cake. Maybe they’ll eat outside and look at the stars.

It’s a plan, but it doesn’t stop him from counting down the late September days with dread and wishing he could sleep through it. Ellie’s presence soothes the ache, but at times like this it’s a band-aid over a gunshot wound.

Tommy doesn’t question it when he asks for an overnight patrol shift the night before, a double, returning in the late morning. He intends to wear himself out, come home, and sleep until dinner.

When the sleep part doesn’t pan out and he has nothing better to do, he drinks. He drinks until his personal stash is depleted, desperate to kill the hours. The Bison doesn’t open until four, but he can’t stare at the ceiling for another second, so he puts on his boots and goes for a walk.

And then he’s standing in front of Ezra’s house. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks this is probably the post-apocalyptic equivalent of drunk-dialing his ex, but his judgment is too far gone by the time he finds himself on the porch, knuckles tingling from the knock.

Ezra looks him up and down, forgoing the greeting.

“How far down the rabbit hole are you, songbird?”

“Not far enough,” he mutters. “Can I come in?”

There’s a moment where he’s sure he’ll be turned away. Hell, if the roles were reversed, Joel would probably tell him to fuck off. But Ezra opens the door.

“I have a prior engagement,” he says, clipped, nodding at the closed office door. “Twenty minutes. You can wait in the kitchen.”

Joel nods mutely, aims his steps down the hall. After only a fleeting hesitation, he helps himself to the liquor that Ezra keeps in the cupboard. For strictly medicinal purposes, he’d once said with a coy little smirk, and Joel had rolled his eyes. Now he thinks this is exactly the kind of medicine he needs, and he doesn’t have to show his face at the Bison to get it.

He’s two more drinks in by the time he hears the front door open and close, then Ezra’s footsteps in the hall.

“Ez,” Joel nods, already feeling the effects. He’s been generous with his pours.

“Songbird,” he murmurs, eyeing the half-full glass on the table, the bottle looking leaner.

“I ran out,” Joel mutters, holding up his drink. “Figured it’s a commune. We share.”

Ezra grabs a glass from the cupboard, slides it across the table, and lets Joel pour. He tops up his drink as Ezra takes a seat.

Somehow he’s both too drunk and not drunk enough for whatever comes next.

“To what foul fortune are we drinking at,” Ezra pauses, squints at the clock, “two in the afternoon?”

“Forgetting,” Joel says after a pause.

“To the dissolution of memory,” Ezra murmurs, touching their glasses and downing his portion with a grimace. Joel doesn’t flinch. The smack of the empty tumbler on the tabletop is overloud in the tiny kitchen.

“Let us put our cards on the proverbial table. If you’ve come here after having partaken for the purposes of an errant fuck,” he says, spitting out the last consonant with emphasis, “you’ll find yourself sorely disappointed.”

Joel winces, feels the words hit like a well-deserved slap. “S’not why I’m here.”

“Ah. Then do you intend to tell me why you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again. Maybe it’s the alcohol slowing his tongue, but he doesn’t think it’s just that.

“I jus’…”

I miss her.

I miss you.

Ezra studies him, something sharp and curious in his gaze. If Joel weren’t so deep in his melancholy he’d be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed, but Ezra doesn’t look put out, only resigned. Concerned.

He’s too damn quiet either way.

Joel blinks, tries to shake off the sadness that’s taken root, tendrils of sorrow twining around his ribs, making his chest tight. He can’t, of course. It never goes away, just loosens its grip enough for him to keep breathing.

“She, uh…she died today,” he whispers. “Sarah. My…my daughter.”

Ezra eases back in his chair, tilts his head. Joel faintly recognizes it as his counseling pose. Open. Waiting. But his tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth and the world has gone fuzzy and he thinks he might be crying but his face is numb.

“Never saw her fifteenth birthday. She’d be thirty-six now…if she’d made it. Thirty-fuckin’-six. That’s…shit,” he laughs humorlessly. “Same age I was when she died.”

Ezra is kind enough not to point out that you could throw a stone anywhere in the town of Jackson and chances are good you’d hit someone who lost a loved one on Outbreak Day. Tonight the Bison will be busier than usual, most of its patrons trying to numb the day away in the same fashion. It wasn’t a revelation.

But it always seemed like a pretty big “fuck you” to Joel to be forced to reckon with his birthday on top of all that.

“Gunshot,” he says evenly. “Couldn’t even bury her. Jus’ left her in a field south’a Austin an’ went on our way.”

His words are slow, fat and syrupy in his mouth.

Ezra leans forward, rests his arm on one knee, peering into Joel’s face. His eyes have gone soft, and it’s too much like pity.

“Prob’ly still there,” he whispers.

Time begins to slide sideways. His eyelids feel heavy, his head filled with sand. He’s on his knees and her blood is drying tacky on his shirt and Tommy is screaming at him to get up, get up, we gotta go , but he’s weighted down, his little girl has never felt so heavy in his arms, cold and still as stone. He’s pinned in place like a butterfly under glass, his baby is gone and he might as well be dead, too.

And then Ezra is standing, taking Joel’s hand, leading him upstairs. He slouches in the bedroom doorway, vaguely aware of the sounds of a shower starting as he tries to shake off the vision of her hand lying limp against his arm. There’s a light touch on his waist, asking permission with the lift of an eyebrow before he’s stripped down methodically and pushed gently toward the bathroom with a hand between his shoulder blades.

Forehead pressed to the tile as the water rolls off his back. Blood, so much blood, the water should run red, but it’s clear. The creak of the faucet turning, the warm rush of water gone, a towel being scrubbed over his shoulders. A hand herding him back into the bedroom, pulling back the covers. The bed is soft, softer than he deserves. The harsh scrape of curtains being closed and the room dims.

Joel flops onto his back, feels the bed spin underneath him, watching through slitted eyes as Ezra moves around the room. Focusing on him, him, him so he doesn’t slip back out of time.

There’s the clunk of a glass of water being placed on the nightstand and Joel reaches out blindly, finding Ezra’s fingers with his.

“Stay.”

A sigh. “Sleep.”

“Can’t…can’t do it,” he mumbles. “Can’t do it again.”

“I know, cher .”

“Mmm. Stay,” he tries again, but the hand is gone.

Ezra whispers something about a gentleman, taking advantage, sleep now . The words barely find him through a thick haze of exhaustion.

“Since when’re you a gentleman?” Joel slurs, rolling over so his words are muffled by the pillow.

A low chuckle as fingers card through his towel-damp hair.

“Sleep, songbird.”

He wakes and the light is all wrong. It’s too dark, for one. It’s not his room, for another.

“Shit,” he hisses, mouth dry as sandpaper. He makes it upright, still a little woozy, caught somewhere between inebriation and a hangover, and stumbles into the bathroom to put on his clothes.

Downstairs, the only light comes from Ezra’s office as music plays low on the record player. Ezra gets up from the couch as Joel squints into the lamplight.

“He lives,” Ezra says drily.

Joel swallows hard, fighting the sudden urge to vomit, and leans against the door frame. When he opens his eyes, Ezra is standing in front of him, brow arched.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

“I, uh…m’alright…”

“You crashed spectacularly,” Ezra says. “Do you recall any of it?”

He wracks his brain. “I…had a few ‘fore I came over, an’…think we…we talked…”

“Indeed. Then you sang, you danced, got down on one knee…”

Joel’s heart is suddenly beating too fast. “I–what?”

“I’m pulling your leg, songbird,” Ezra says, lips curling in a smirk. “No, you did nothing untoward, save for interrupting my last session of the day a few minutes early. And drinking half my liquor, I’ll add.”

“S’pose I deserve that,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. Then another thought occurs to him, one that sends a hot flush up the back of his neck. “We didn’t, uh…y’know. Did we?”

A dry huff of laughter. “No, we didn’t.”

“Good…I mean, not…I mean…I, uh, wanted…wanted to…not that I wanted–fuckin’ hell,” he groans, stomach roiling again.

Ezra quirks his lips but doesn’t speak, waiting for Joel to recover.

“Look, I, uh… I know you…were just lookin’ out for Ellie before. I stuck m’foot in it. I’m real sorry for that. I just…it’s just, uh Ellie, she’s, uh…she’s doin’ better, an’…that’s...”

He trails off.

…Ellie…something about Ellie…oh…

“Fuck,” he groans. “What time is it?”

“Not quite ten.”

Dinner. He was supposed to be back for dinner.

“Fuck, I gotta…I gotta go.”

“Well. I suppose I should be glad I could be of use ,” Ezra says, lacking his former levity. “Any port in a storm, is that it?”

“No, no, that’s not…shit,” Joel growls, turning to grab his boots, making for the door. “I didn’t mean to…I promised her I’d…I just gotta go.”

“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” Ezra sighs, his disappointment palpable. “Crystal, in fact.”

“M’sorry, Ez, but…I’ll…tomorrow? Can we just–”

“I think we’ve drawn this out quite enough,” he says flatly. “Goodnight, Joel.”

The door slams behind him, leaving him little choice but to go home. Home, where his kid has been waiting for hours while he’s been sleeping off a bender at his…at Ezra’s.

Fucking fuck.

She’s sitting at the kitchen table with her journal. He suspects there are some choice words in that book for him now, but anger would be preferable to the look in her eyes.

If Ezra’s disappointment stings, Ellie’s is a knife to the heart.

“M’sorry…I’m late,” he says, feeling every bit the asshole he knows he is. “We can still eat if you–”

“Ate already. There’s leftovers in the fridge,” she says flatly. “And a cake. Maria helped me make it. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he says roughly.

She bites her lip, chewing it, fighting some internal battle before sighing and asking the question.

“Were you with Ezra?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but she snorts. “Don’t bother. You’re shit at hiding things, y’know.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Of course she’d known. Hadn’t Ezra told him as much?

A knack for seeing things exactly as they are.

“How long?” he whispers.

“Saw you in the greenhouse once. And that first night…he never took the album back. It’s still in your bedroom. Didn’t mean to snoop, but it’s, like, right there.”

He closes his eyes. The room seems to sway around him, nausea gripping his insides.

“Figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” she shrugs, picking at her nails. “But you never did, so…”

“El–”

“Is it me? ‘Cause I wouldn’t have cared, y’know,” she says, and the waver in her voice nearly brings him to his knees. “I don’t…I don’t know why you don’t…trust me.”

“I do, kiddo, I’m–”

“You said I matter but you can’t even be honest with me about this one stupid thing, and that…that makes me think…”

She’s crying, angry tears that she swipes away with her sleeve before they can fall. Should’ve known , he thinks dully, should have known she’d turn this on herself .

“Fuck it, never mind,” she says with a groan.

He steps forward but she’s out of the chair and already moving toward the stairs.

“It’s not…not gonna happen again,” he tries shakily. “We’re…not…anymore.”

This only seems to make it worse. He wishes she would scream at him, yell and stomp and storm around the way she used to, but now she just looks defeated.

“You’re such an asshole,” she sighs with none of her usual fondness. Then she’s gone, soft footsteps on the stairs and a door that doesn’t slam and the quiet is louder than anything.

He climbs the stairs to his bedroom. The album is still sitting on his dresser. She’s right; he never bothered to hide it. He’s a fucking idiot.

He traces his fingers over the cover and feels the tears he’s been holding back all day slipping down his cheeks.

Worst damn day of the year.

Joel wakes up to an empty house and a raging bitch of a hangover, and that sets the tone for the rest of the week.

He barely sees Ellie after that. When she’s not at school or work or training, she locks herself in her room. She misses her curfew and he lets it slide once, then twice, reasoning she needs the space. But eventually he has to put his foot down. She’s his kid and she can’t avoid him forever.

He hopes.

When she comes home past curfew the next time, he’s waiting up on the porch.

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to the spot next to him on the swing.

She rolls her eyes and moves to go in the house instead, wheeling on him when she jiggles the handle and realizes he’s locked the door. He dangles the key in one hand, cocks an eyebrow, one step ahead of her.

“You’re late,” he says.

“Pretty fucking rich coming from you.”

“Alright, that’s…that’s not the same thing, kid. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that, but you can’t keep doin’ this.”

“It would appear I fucking can.”

Christ, the attitude . There’s a familiar headache forming behind his eyes and he’s fast losing control of his temper. It’s been a long fucking week.

“You can be pissed at me all you want, but I’m still responsible for you. Curfew’s eleven.”

“What was it you said? I’m not your daughter and you’re not my dad. So I think I’m done listening to you.”

His jaw tightens as he tries not to show how much that particular remark stings. He stands and glares at her.

“As long as you live under this roof, you will be home before curfew. Is that clear?”

“Fine,” she says. “Then I don’t have to live here.”

And she turns on her heel and stomps back down the porch steps. 

“Ellie! Damnit–”

She flips her middle finger up, waving it over her head like a flag, and doesn’t look back.

He has half a mind to follow her, but he knows if he does, he’ll say some shit he doesn’t mean. And so will she. And they’ll just keep circling around the same awful truth, the one he can’t speak aloud, the one she can’t admit to herself.

Instead, he goes into the house and punches a dent in the kitchen wall.

She’ll come back , he tells himself, pacing the floor and clutching his throbbing fist. She’ll come back, and they’ll patch things up and smooth it over the same way he’ll patch up the drywall tomorrow. They’ll figure it out. They always do.

But then she doesn’t come home.

He’s on Tommy and Maria’s doorstep early the next morning, when his imagination has cycled through all the worst case scenarios and won’t let him wait any longer.

“Y’all seen Ellie? She took off last night. Thought maybe she might’ve stayed here.”

Tommy’s bouncing Izzy on his hip. He shakes his head.

“Nope. Been up most of the night with this one, definitely would've seen her.”

Joel frowns, flexes his aching hand.

“But she can’t have gone far,” Tommy adds quickly. “I’ll radio the folks on the wall, let ‘em know to keep an eye out.”

“Alright…”

“Should we be worried?”

Joel bites his lip, shakes his head. “Nah. Just, uh, let me know if you hear anythin’. I’ll go ask around.”

Tommy nods. “‘Course. We’ll keep you posted.”

He waits by the school until half past eight, but she doesn’t show. Every minute she’s unaccounted for ratchets his anxiety up another notch until he’s grinding his teeth and pacing a trail between the stables, the house, and the main street in hopes of catching her.

Tommy flags him down on his way back to the house, his third such trip in the last hour.

“Hey, just got word on the radio. She’s fine. Ezra’s got her. Says she showed up last night an’ crashed with Cee.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “That's…somethin’, I guess.”

Tommy gives him a look that’s too close to pity for comfort. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

“S’nothin’ serious,” he mutters. “Had a rough day, that’s all.”

Tommy smirks. “If she’s anythin’ like you at sixteen–”

“Jesus, don’t start,” he groans.

“Just sayin’, big brother. You’re in for it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go on. An’…thanks, Tommy.”

He waits until his brother is out of sight before heading to Ezra’s.

Ezra doesn’t invite Joel in this time, just steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him.

“Hey. I, uh…heard she’s here.”

“Your young prodigy made her illustrious appearance in the wee hours. Fortunately for her I’m a light sleeper…as you well know,” he adds coolly.

Joel crosses his arms, can’t meet his eyes. “Look, I, uh…I don’t want her puttin��� you or your girl out–”

Ezra ducks his head, softening a little. “It’s no trouble. I got the distinct impression at our last session that the two of you were not exactly…simpatico at the moment.”

“You could say that.”

He lowers his voice. “In fairness, she’s been equally reticent with me as of late. I speculated that she might have felt I betrayed her trust in my conversations with you–”

Joel shakes his head. “She, uh, figured us out. Wasn’t too happy about it. Or…she wasn’t happy about bein’ left in the dark, more like.”

“Ah. Well…I suppose I am just as much to blame, then.”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “It’s on me. I shoulda…should have told her. Got too in my head an’…well, guess it doesn’t matter now.”

He shifts on his feet, rubs at the back of his neck.

“Don’t think she’d be here if she blamed you,” he murmurs. “I dunno. Maybe you can get through to her. Think I’ve done enough.”

“I’ll do my level best. The couch is hers until she’s had enough of me. Perhaps a few days of my loquacious ramblings will set her to rights,” he adds drily. “If she’s anything like Cee, she’ll be begging for peace and mercy at your door.”

“Doubt that,” he says thickly. “I guess I’ll…I’ll bring by some of her stuff. Clothes an’ whatnot.”

Ezra nods.

“Tell her…tell her I love her,” he says. “An’ I’m sorry. I, uh…yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I suspect the apology would be more effective coming from you…but I’ll pass the message along.”

“Thanks, Ez.”

He walks away. It feels too much like giving up, and the ugly bloom of failure unfurls in his gut like a poison.

Joel packs a small duffel bag with enough clean clothes for three days. After a week with zero contact, he can only assume she’s doing laundry, or she snuck back to the house while he was out and grabbed more of her stuff.

By day five, he’s making a regular stop at the Bison after his shifts when it’s clear his usual late-September blues aren’t going away. There’s a two-drink maximum, and Joel gets his daily share before going home, pulling out his flask, and crashing on the couch. Sleeping pills are hard to come by but booze will do in a pinch. He’s keenly aware this is partly what got him into trouble in the first place, but in Ellie’s absence, he’s lost his anchor and his reason to care.

Tommy sidelines him at the bar on day seven, sliding onto the stool next to him just as he’s started his first drink.

“So you gonna pull the stick outta your ass and tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Joel rolls his eyes, grunts. “Dunno what you’re gettin’ at.”

“C’mon, Joel. I got eyes. Ellie ain’t talkin’ and you’re shufflin’ around here like a fuckin’ mushroom head,” he says, eyeing the drink in Joel’s hand.

“Your wife put you up to this?”

Tommy snorts. “She’s got her hands full. I’m askin’ as your brother…and your friend. Now talk.”

“She’s mad,” he mutters, taking a long drink. “Not much to tell.”

“The fuck did you do?”

Indignance flares. “What makes you think I did anythin’? She’s sixteen. She’s gonna hate me sometimes.”

“Bullshit. That girl thinks you hung the moon. An’ you wouldn’t be out here drinkin’ yourself stupid if you didn’t feel bad about somethin’.”

It’s an uncomfortable role reversal; Joel in the hot seat, Tommy doing the grilling. He wonders when his little brother grew up.

It’s really fuckin’ annoying.

“Whatever you did, just…fix it, Joel.”

“Not that simple.”

“Yeah, it really is, big brother.”

“Tommy, I–you don’t know,” Joel growls. “You don’t know what happened out there.”

“You’re right about that. Been holdin’ your cards pretty close to the chest. But I know you, and I know when you’re lettin’ your foolish pride get the better of you.”

“If you’re so fuckin’ smart then you go figure it out. ‘Cause I’ve tried, and it ain’t workin’.”

Tommy considers him, taps his fingers on the counter before leaning in. “And Ezra?”

He stiffens. “What about Ezra?”

“Thought maybe you two were…y’know. Seemed pretty close for a while there.”

Joel glares at his brother. “What’d Ellie tell you?”

He whistles. “She didn’t have to tell me nothin’. Like I said, I have eyes. An’ you’re shit at hidin’ things.”

Christ, that’s exactly what she said. That stokes the flames of Joel’s ire even further. He's as transparent as the amber liquid he’s drinking.

“Hey, I ain’t judgin’–”

“Good.”

“An’ it’s none of my business–”

“Sure as shit it ain’t.”

“But as your brother…I only wanna see you happy. An’ the only person capable of makin’ you this miserable is you. So quit fuckin’ around and make it right.”

“Did you come here to drink or just to get on my ass?”

“Naw, I gotta go. I owe Maria a week’s worth of diaper duty for the whole Ezra thing,” he winks, hopping off the stool. “‘Sides, I’ve got early patrol tomorrow. Gotta get my beauty rest.”

Joel grunts, considers tossing his drink in his brother’s stupid, smug face, decides it would be a waste of a good sleep aid.

“Fix it, Joel,” Tommy says, clapping him on the back as he takes his leave. “S’what you do best.”

Eight days.

It’s been eight days since Ellie left him. He hasn’t been apart from her for this long in their entire history together, and it’s breaking something inside him, cracking his heart in places he didn’t know could crack. Somehow it’s worse than Sarah, because Sarah has been dead and gone for years, while he is painfully aware of Ellie’s proximity. Alive, but impossible to reach.

It’s late. He’s sprawled on the couch trying to drink himself to sleep when there’s a knock.

Hope, sudden and fleeting. Maybe she’s come home . It’s foolish to think she’d knock at her own door, but he’s just lucid enough for it to hurt when he sees Maria on the porch instead.

“Joel,” she says, an unusual tremor in her voice. His heart leaps into his throat.

“S’it Ellie? What happened?”

“Ellie’s fine, as far as I know. But we have a problem.”

He sags against the door, the emotional whiplash making him surly. “Find someone else.“

“Tommy’s patrol shift got back half an hour ago. They were attacked. They sent Peterson and James home with gunshot wounds.”

“Yeah? Not sure what you want me to do about it, seein’ as I’m not a fuckin’ doctor.”

“They have Tommy, Joel.”

The words don’t make sense.

“The fuck does that mean? Who has Tommy?”

“I need you to tell me what happened out there. With Ellie. They said–”

He draws back, some dim internal alarm beginning to sound. “Where’s Tommy?”

“They took him and they’re asking about a girl, Joel. I need to know what happened with Ellie–”

“S’none of your–”

“It is my damn business,” she snaps. “Patrollers get attacked and taken and then it’s my goddamned business.”

He closes his eyes, feels like he’s in a dream.

“Peterson said they’re holding him hostage, said something about wanting a girl in exchange. Tommy…told me about Ellie’s immunity.”

“He what ?”

“No one else knows,” she says quickly. “But Tommy said something happened with Ellie while you were gone over the winter, something with the Fireflies. And now we’ve got people out there who made a coordinated attack, and they’re looking for a kid, and they…they have my husband.”

It’s here that her voice breaks, her careful mask of competence cracking.

“I need to know what happened out there, Joel,” she continues, composing herself. “If these people have some kind of vendetta, I need to know what we’re up against.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I can’t–”

“You can catch me up on the way to the clinic,” she snaps, offering him no other choice. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the clinic in the cool night air is enough to sober him up. It takes all of five minutes, but Joel doesn’t need that much time to explain.

He left a lot of dead Fireflies in a hospital in Salt Lake City, including one of their leaders.

No, there were no survivors.

No, Ellie doesn’t know.

Maria remains neutral, offering only grunts and nods in response. When they arrive at the clinic, he takes her by the arm and turns her before they go inside.

“Ellie had nothin’ to do with it, y’hear? I don’t want her payin’ for what I did.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m just sayin’…if this is happenin’ because of the shit I pulled—”

“We’re prepared to deal with them.”

“Does ‘deal with them’ mean turnin’ her over to the Fireflies? Because I ain’t about to let that happen,” he growls.

She draws back. “What? She’s my niece , Joel.”

“Yeah, an’ now Tommy’s in trouble ‘cause of me ,” he hisses. “An’ we both know you didn’t want me here.”

“No, I didn’t at first,” she sighs. “But I was wrong. And we don’t know for sure that we’re dealing with Fireflies. For all we know they could be raiders trying to take us for supplies. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Look, I’ll do whatever you want as long as Ellie is safe. She stays in Jackson. That’s all I ask.”

“Of course,” Maria says, then shakes her head in disbelief. “Did you really think I’d turn over a child, Joel?”

“You an’ I both know, times like these, worse shit has gone down.”

“Not on my watch, it doesn’t,” she says. “That’s not how we do things. And you sure as hell better plan on sticking around because if this shit goes south, I’m not raising two girls on my own.”

He swallows hard. “Alright. Tell me…tell me what to do.”

“Peterson just got patched up. I want you to hear what she has to say while it’s still fresh.”

Joan Peterson is sitting on the hospital cot, one arm bandaged with gauze. Joel knows her as a fellow patroller, a short, level-headed woman who knows her way around outside the walls.

“Just a graze,” she says, nodding at the bandage. “James is still in surgery, he got the worst of it.”

“How’d they get Tommy?” Joel asks.

“They fired and missed. Horse got spooked and threw him. They had us surrounded and he was the first one they grabbed. Held him at gunpoint.”

“You think they were Fireflies?”

“I don’t know. They could have been, but…it was getting dark. I couldn’t see much, and it’s not like they carry a flag or anything.”

“You’d know,” Joel mutters. “The Fireflies weren’t great about keepin’ a low profile.”

“They looked pretty ragged,” she offers. “So probably far from home, not locals. None of ‘em looked familiar.”

“How many?” Maria asks.

“At least six that I saw, but there coulda been more hanging back. Like I said, it was getting dark. We didn’t have the manpower and they had Miller, we couldn’t risk it. That’s protocol,” she adds, glancing at Maria for confirmation.

“And they said somethin’ about a kid?”

“Yeah, they said they’d trade Miller for ‘the girl’. Didn’t give us a name or anything. They said we’d know what they meant.”

“Was there anything else?” Maria prompts.

“No. Just…we need to get our people back out there.”

“They’ll have the advantage in the dark,” Maria bites her lip. “The council will put a group together tonight…we’ll ride out at first light.”

“I’ll be there,” Peterson says seriously.

“You’re hurt–”

“Just a scratch. I want to get those sons of bitches,” she scowls. “We won’t let them get away with this.”

“Thanks, Joan,” Maria says more softly.

They leave the exam room and step into the hall.

“Does that sound like Fireflies to you?” she asks, turning to Joel.

“S’not common for ‘em to take hostages, far as I know…but it’s not unheard of. If they’ve been keeping an eye on this place they know they can’t bomb their way in. We’re too well-guarded for that. But if it’s the Fireflies I knew…they ain’t stupid. We don’t wanna underestimate ‘em.”

Maria nods pensively. “They’re convinced we have someone they want, so we have to assume they’re watching. I’ll go to the council about putting extra folks on shift at the dam and the outposts, just in case.”

“If it ain’t the Fireflies…what then?”

“The same. We get Tommy back,” she says, eyes going dark. “And we don’t give them a chance to do worse.”

They agree to meet in a couple hours with the rest of the patrol group to go over the plan. Maria tells him to rest up and he gives her a look.

“I will if you will,” he says.

“Fair enough,” she says. “See you soon, Joel.”

He returns to the house. He almost goes to check on Ellie first, to let her know where he’ll be in the unlikely event she decides to come home, but stops himself. He has to focus on getting Tommy back, and there’s no sense in worrying her.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s laying out his gear on the kitchen table. Joel prepares himself for another conversation with Maria, maybe something she forgot to ask, but then Ezra is standing in front of him.

The expression on Joel’s face must give him away, because Ezra holds up a hand.

“Your young prodigy is copacetic, all things considered,” he says before Joel can ask. “May I come in?”

“Uh…sure.”

“I heard there was an attack.”

Joel swallows hard. “Yeah…I’m headin’ out in a couple hours. They, uh…they got Tommy.”

His eyes widen. “Your brother…”

“Yeah,” he says, then his stomach sinks. “Shit…does Ellie know?”

“No, I specifically–”

“Good,” he cuts in. “Keep in that way. Last thing I need’s her goin’ off on some harebrained mission to get herself killed.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” he says softly.

“No,” Joel shoots back, returning to his backpack, tugging at the straps of the bag to loosen them. “Maria’s got the council on it. We’ll take care of it.”

“I suspected you would be called up, as it were. I suggested she might want to join me…reconcile with you before you leave. She was unresponsive to my counsel, so unfortunately…I’ve come alone.”

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing his disappointment with a measure of relief. “Prob’ly for the best.”

“I haven’t darkened your doorstep on behalf of your young prodigy, though,” he hesitates. “I came to warn you…I fear you and your compatriots are walking into an ambush.”

“Yeah? Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he sighs, checking the batteries in his flashlight.

“I told you before about Damon and the group we escaped. And my concern is…I suspect he’s not stopped looking for us. For Cee.”

“You think he wants his kid back?”

Ezra nods. “I do believe that is the case, yes.”

“Why?”

“I…suspect it does not sit right with his massive ego to have been…bested by a cripple and a little girl. He is more than capable of holding a grudge. And though I am loath to think of what might happen to her if she were to be returned to him…he is, within the bounds of the old laws, her rightful caretaker.”

“Well…what does Cee want?”

“She doesn’t have an opinion on the matter because she believes her father to be dead.”

Joel stops, turns back to him, meets his eyes. “An’ why would she think that?”

Ezra doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to.

“Christ,” Joel mutters.

“I told her what she needed to hear to…encourage her to leave with me.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ez–”

“The mere fact of my deception changes nothing, Joel. Every utterance, every word on the matter stands true. Cee was in grave danger–”

“How do I know you’re not holdin’ that girl hostage or somethin’?” Joel spits through gritted teeth.

Ezra scoffs.

“No, you tell me right now why I shouldn’t go tell Maria and the rest of the council that we’re harborin’ a kidnapper?”

“Because you know me, Joel,” he says softly. “You know I could not fathom harming a hair on that little bird’s golden head, let alone actually committing such a heinous crime. You’ve entrusted me with your own girl’s care and you know in your heart of hearts that I have no desire to do anything untoward. More than that…you know what treachery lies beyond these walls. You’ve known that life, and you know her place of safety was tenuous at best.

“Trust that I would have happily taken Damon’s life myself if granted the opportunity. And I came here to tell you that if you get the chance…I’d suggest you take it.”

Joel considers him, breathes an angry sigh, then turns back to his bag and unceremoniously stuffs the rest of his supplies in, cinching the top buckle tight.

“Could be anyone. Raiders, Fireflies. No way to know ‘til we’re out there,” he bites out. “Seems we both have shit to answer for. Just have to see who’s doin’ the callin’.”

Ezra ducks his head, frowns. “I’ll owe you a great debt if–”

“Don’t,” Joel snaps, then bites his lip, softening. “Look, if anythin’ happens out there…Ellie…she, uh…she’s better with Maria now but she’s not–they’re not–”

Ezra puts his hand on his shoulder, the touch startling him into silence.

“You’ll come home. And we–she–will be here when you do.”

[sorcerersseestars]

 his eyes, your ears [part iv]

series masterlist

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: There was a time when you called him best friend, but those days escaped you long ago. There’s no way he’s alive – right? With the depth of his betrayal still lingering in your heart and mind, what would his reappearance spell for your life?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

warnings: cursing, lowkey a little mental torture, TW! s*xual a*sault (forced kiss), violence!!, one instance of vomiting (sry), immoral and creepy Geto, reader is kinda anxious nonstop (like writer like reader?), some details are non-canon (a/n 2.0 at end explains), also it’s slow for the first half but picks up I promise, I think I made Geto sound British???, also I made Hanami act like a mom kinda 💀 uh…im going to call it comic relief?

word count: 6.7k. oof.

a/n: I am literally SO SORRY that this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but… life happens! Along those lines – I wrote 1/2 of this in September and 1/2 of it in May, so it might be a bit disjointed sorryyy hehe

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Then you’ll have to live with disappointment,” He flashes you an all-too-pleased-with-himself smile. “Becaaause it’s totally permanently in your phone now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I wouldn’t be able to delete a contact.”

He has a devilish smirk on his face, but his voice is annoyingly innocent and cheerful. “Go ahead, try!”

You gasp. “Gojo! Did you jailbreak my new phone?!”

“Uh, uh! That not what my contact reads as!” He snatches your phone from your hands, and points a large finger to the tiny name on your screen. “It’s ‘My Beloved Best Friend Satoru’!”

“Satoru,” You say dangerously. “Erase this or I’ll erase you from existence.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You’re cute when you try to beat me.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find words, and you try to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “S-Satoru! You asshole, give me my phone back!”

He holds it high above your head, a wide smile lingering on his face. He’s having way too much fun with this. You jump, trying to swat it out of his hand, but to no avail.

“Why did you even do this?” You grumble, sighing. “What, is it ‘how many ways can I torture (Y/N) in the span of a few hours’ day?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re weak, remember? You gotta have me on speed dial if you want to survive in this line of work.”

First, your eyes widen at his blunt statement. Then you sigh again, this time a bit sadly. “Wow, you have so much faith in me…thanks.”

“You never know what’s out there,” Gojo says. “If you ever have any trouble, call me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is this a prank? I thought you hated ‘helping the weak’.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” He says firmly. “I’ll always pick up. Abuse the privilege, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t die.”

Your head snaps towards him, mouth hanging open with shock. “Satoru, what…? I’m not going to…”

You fall silent. There’s no guarantee of that.

He steps closer to you, closer than what you’d consider friendly. Your heart skips a beat.

“Just do it, okay? I’ll always be on the other end.”

Always, huh? But now…

Ring, ring, ring. You bite your lip, pressing your phone hard against your ear, as if his voice will appear if you wish it enough. Ring, ring, ring.

“Please…” You whisper. “Come on, come on.”

Your breath hitches as the distinctive timbre of Satoru’s voice fills your ear, but your shoulders fall almost immediately.

“Hey, sorry I’ve missed your call! If you close your eyes, recite my name five times, and spin around twice, I might get back to ya! No exceptions – not even–”

You sigh and hang up before you’re put through to voice mail. It’s not like he’ll listen to it, anyway.

He’s been avoiding you. You haven’t seen him for days – six, to be exact. It’s been five days since Shoko deemed you well enough to recover at home, despite the worryingly slow rate that your cursed energy has been returning. You were released with the promise you wouldn’t exert yourself and absolutely would not use any cursed energy. All the while, you had childishly held two crossed fingers behind your back – your promise was as empty as you felt.

You should have expected this; this shouldn’t hurt so much. Gojo is the strongest sorcerer the world has seen for hundreds of years. He never runs from his foes – he doesn’t need to. When it comes to facing emotions, however, he is all but mighty. Whenever his emotions run high, overflowing until they begin to leak out into broad daylight, he turns tail and practically erases himself from existence. It’s nearly impossible to find him – he mysteriously leaves no trace, even for an experienced tracker like you.

You left Shoko with an empty smile and promise, and Gojo has done just the same. Despite him swearing that he’d be back to see you, Gojo is nowhere to be found. You’ve dropped by at the school multiple times, even asking his students if they knew of his whereabouts, but nobody has been able to give you an answer.

He’s been dodging your calls, letting it ring until his chirpy voicemail message mocks you. The text messages you leave go unread, unopened.

When you hopelessly reopen your chat with him, you can’t help but bite yoru nails as you stare at the wall of blue on your screen. Message after message – unfinished thoughts, apologies, words full of urgency and desperation – are left by trembling hands bloodied by your own worry.

‘I’m the strongest,’ He always says, so why does fear spike in your veins at the thought of Geto finding him? 

Even though his own arrogant words ring through your head, you can’t quell the anxiety that threatens to wreak havoc over your fragile state. You’re worried, so worried, and it bleeds into the rest of your life: you’re all over the place, constantly forgetting appointments and important items, you are inexplicably tense, your breathing is constantly shallow and quick; you’re barely holding yourself together.

A few days ago, you had your meeting with Yaga, alone, which went just as horribly as you could have imagined, but you were thankfully spared contact with the higher-ups due to your condition.

But you’re almost all better now – at least physically. That’s why you’re back again, ready for another round of manipulation and abuse.

You’re out of it, so out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and nothing they say registers in your mind. Even when you try to focus on the words leaving their mouths, your brain filters it all back into mindless noise.

There’s a sequence of very familiar syllables: ah, your name is being shouted. You look up with empty eyes, blinking slowly.

“Useless sorcerer, answer me, now!” Gakuganji roars. “You are testing our patience, and I’ve just about run out of it. Can you track him, or not?”

You breathe in shakily, and let out a weak, clueless, “What?”

“Track him, or they’re dead,” He spits. “Track Geto Suguru. Find him. We won’t wait long. If you haven’t reported back in a week, your parents won’t be able to enjoy their retirement any longer.”

Some of the other council members shift uncomfortably at his bluntness, but you barely even flinch.

You’re so tired of it all. You almost wish you had encouraged Gojo to just off them once and for all.

“Okay,” You mumble softly, lacking the energy to project your voice. “I can do it. I will track Geto Suguru.”

You drag yourself out without acknowledging them, without any show of respect, but the thought of caring is lost on you. Your apathy leaves a trail of displeased whispers, but you don’t even notice.

You speed-dial his number again and again and again, and are returned with nothing but the taunt of his cheerfully recorded memo.

When you finally look away from his contact info burning your retinas, your gaze is trained on the clear sky. It shouldn’t be so vivid, shouldn’t be so beautiful – today should be overcast and rainy. You can’t help but frown, but your eyes remain on the heavens.

Then you’re granted a sight that usually coaxes a smile out of you no matter how you feel: a particularly large gust of wind lays out a collection of reddening autumn leaves against the azure sky. They swirl and dance in the breeze, hovering in your field of vision for a few more moments before they are whipped away. 

It’s a sign of the changing of seasons – it has always been one of your favorite times of the year, especially during your years at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The rapid approach of the holidays and the time spent training with your classmates in the chilly air has always enlivened you.

Today, this sight drives fat tears to roll down your cheeks. It just serves to remind you of the juxtaposition between those blissful times and these turbulent times: the weight of Geto’s betrayal, his subsequent death, his impossible revival.

You turn your head to the side, eyes tracking the leaves as they dance into the distance. 

“So I’m really doing this then,” You whisper to yourself. “Yeah, guess I am. You’re not here to stop me…”

They’re far from Tokyo, much further than they were before. That much is obvious from the start, when you first scour for their residuals. After a disappointing first try by Jujutsu High - you shouldn’t expected much, anyway - you decide to return to their last known location: the forest you nearly were obliterated in. You dread returning there, but you have little choice unless you want to do a whole lot of guesswork.

You drive yourself there. Usually, you would be accompanied by your usual driver Ijichi, but the thought of asking him didn’t even cross your mind. In the eyes of the Jujutsu world, this is a suicide mission. You’re well aware of that: so why involve anyway else unnecessarily, risking innocent lives?

You’re grateful for the calming scenery that blurs by: miles and miles of inhabited land, solely occupied by woodland’s creatures. Hardly any curses are present in the countryside, as there are no humans to feed off of. Those special grades you faced were certainly the exception.

You pull over to the edge of the forest once you sense a steady stream of cursed energy. The residual energy is at least a week old - just around the time of your unfortunate encounter with them. You close your eyes and carefully sift through all of the cursed energy signatures left behind, immediately identifying Hanami’s and Jogo’s faint residuals. There’s one stronger energy, and very familiar: Satoru’s cursed energy.

His cursed energy is so easy to pick out, no matter where you are. It’s so bright and lively, practically humming under your fingers every time you sense it, almost as if it were your own.

But there’s a shadow – his energy shadows another. You concentrate, sensing an underlying current of a more recent energy. Your eyes fly open, startled by your discovery. It is much fresher than the others: the residuals are only a few days old.

Its signature is both unknown and yet alarmingly familiar. It’s dark, so dark. Its energy chokes you, holds you hostage with the way it starts to stick to you and steal your courage with its oppressiveness. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this, yet it feels all too familiar.

You begin to shake, the reality sinking in. “Geto…. Just what have you become?”

You shakily clamber back into the driver’s seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Geto was here. Geto knows that you and Satoru were in the same vicinity as Jogo and Hanami. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know — you carelessly hadn’t wiped your residuals or even tried to cover your tracks.

You step on the gas. You keep your cursed energy flowing as you speed down the road, revealing a murky trail of residuals to follow. His cursed energy is so distinctly foul that you can pick it out from the rest with little effort. It’s overwhelming and makes you nauseous. Cursed with a twist of familiarity – a sickening combination.

Your mind begins to race. Is this how Gojo felt back then? No, it must have been so much worse, tracking one of your soulmates down with the intent to…to kill. And now you’re being forced to track him down again, just so the higher-ups can order Gojo to repeat history, just so your best friends will be forced to fight until one is–

You jerk the steering wheel over, making for a rough pull-over job. You throw yourself out of the car as quickly as possible before retching your stomach’s contents out onto the dark pavement.

The old wounds in your heart flare up; you clutch your chest desperately.

You are not strong enough to protect your parents - but are you strong enough to survive the alternative, the reality you and Gojo can’t help but deny?

“I have to,” You whisper to yourself. “I have to do this. I have no power in this world, I’m not the strongest…so this is all I can do.”

And so you are off again, this time unwavering from the course you’re set on.

By the time you reach Kyoto, an untimely five hours of panicked driving later, their residuals are so apparent that you hardly have to try. It’s almost as if they’re luring you in, the most sensitive tracker known in the Jujutsu world; why else would they leave behind such obvious traces of their cursed energy?

You ignore your instincts that scream for you to turn back, and instead continue into the outskirts of the most outer part of the residential areas – the residuals lead you far from the city itself.

As you venture further into the countryside, your stomach begins to clench. The residuals are much stronger now, but not alarmingly so. They should still be miles and miles out, perhaps 40 or 50 – there should be enough distance to not alert them of your presence. However, as a precaution, you stretch your hearing beyond the range of any normal human. You still feel unsettled, even with the extra layer of protection.

This is dumb. This is a terrible idea. Yet, you keep your foot firmly on the gas pedal.

You are suddenly flooded with an overwhelming wave of noise. Your brain barely has a second to process what your ears pick up: the roar of an object hurtling towards your car. You swerve to the roadside, and you’re barely fast enough: the driver’s side door is nearly scraped off, and it begins to smolder.

It shouldn’t be possible. They shouldn’t be here. Not again.

Running on pure adrenaline, you rip your seatbelt off and throw yourself to the passenger’s side door, seeking an escape from the next impending strike. Your hearing is more sensitive from your frenzied state, and you hear the next meteor much earlier this time. You rely on your hearing, on your hearing only: it will tell you where to dodge.

You climb out of the car, wheezing on smoke and fumes, and take off running. You gasp at the sound of the next meteor closing in on you and quickly dive away, throwing yourself to the ground and covering your head with your hands. The explosion is so intense that even after reducing your hearing, you feel the shock reverberate through your body and overpower any other sensation you feel.

After the ringing in your ears lets up for a moment, you finally feel the aftermath of the blast: shards of heated rock are embedded in your side, scorching your skin. There’s no time to even think about it: you’re up and running away from the voices that soon enter your hearing.

“You imbecile! Do you always have to do the opposite of what you’ve been ordered?” The grating tones of Hanami enter your ears as he hisses at Jogo. “He said captured alive! Or would you rather face his wrath?”

Captured? So they had been expecting your arrival; it was a trap all along.

“Relax, I haven’t even made a scratch yet!” Jogo shouts back.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in many ways,” Hanami scoffs. “If your intention was to kill, I will begin to further doubt your abilities. I already had to rescue you from that sorcerer, or has your pea-brain already forgotten that failure after it fell off of your body?”

“Shut up already,” Jogo growls. “I got it, okay?”

You truly don’t know what to do. Your last encounter made it very clear that you are solely a tracker with limited offensive ability. Hell, you didn’t even try last time because you knew it be to utterly pointless – the result would turn out no better if you tried now. Two special grades against a Grade 1 sorcerer with Grade 2 offensive abilities? You don’t stand a chance in that regard.

They’re in too close of proximity to disguise your presence – cutting off your cursed energy would be pointless. There’s only one other trick up your sleeve to increase your chances of surviving if they do decide to attack again.

You feel their cursed energies so much more clearly – when you steal a glance behind yourself, you can faintly see them in the distance. Not good.

Jogo suddenly barks out a laugh. “Boss never said we couldn’t rough anybody up though, did he? Got you there, dumbass! Don’t try to stop me!”

Really not good.

There’s a sudden spike in cursed energy – and that energy is heading straight for you. You try to dodge, but your reaction is too late. You feel the heat even before the impact, and you decide you definitely need to utilize your other ability. It’s not perfect, nor is it a full-fledged technique yet, but you have little choice but to use it now.

You concentrate all your energy into the side that will take the hit, and imagine an impenetrable wall. You think of Gojo’s Infinity: the space that can never crossed, no matter how much force is exerted. You don’t have the ability to manipulate space like Gojo, but your shield imitates his impenetrability.

Jogo’s fiery body slams into your side. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, and the searing pain returns. Your shield absorbs the brunt of the strike, but you’re still knocked back at least thirty feet. You tumble into the undergrowth, your back squarely hitting a tree in your path.

You can’t stop the howl that escapes your lungs, and the ragged breathing that follows.

“They tried to stop it! It wasn’t even a fraction of my power and they couldn’t stop it! And you’re telling me that Gojo Satoru is interested in them?” Jogo howls in laughter. “How pathetic!”

At your next blink, Jogo has materialized in front of you. You weakly stagger to the side, wanting to get away but knowing you can’t deep down. They’re just toying with you – if they decided to get rid of you, they’d be able to almost instantly.

Jogo shouts loudly, “So weak it makes me sick! You can only run away, huh? Boss is right – creatures like you are disgusting.”

He rushes forward again, and you rush to encase yourself in your imperfect shield. To your surprise, you are not struck down: instead, you’re…in his arms??

“Hanami! Since you won’t let me have anymore fun, I guess we should go back,” Jogo yells across the clearing to the other Special Grade.

A burst of petals flies past your eyes; Hanami emerges from a newly-grown patch of flowers. They don’t say anything, but they approach Jogo and stand right over his shoulder. Jogo eyes Hanami suspiciously.

“Why are you hovering over me?” Jogo grumbles. “Stay away, tree hugger.”

“It’s almost as if he knew you were going to pull this,” Hanami huffs. “There’s a reason I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“They’re alive, that was the only request. Did Boss put you up to that ‘good guy’ act, huh? Agh, such arrogant scum! Thinks he can tell me what to do?”

Despite your shield, Jogo’s heat begins to affect you. You cough violently, and when you glance at your hands you see rivulets of red.

“Yes, I think that’s accurate, considering you call him ‘Boss’. Now, hand them over before they go up in flames.”

Jogo grunts unhappily, but complies. You’re transferred to the rough bark limbs of the tree cursed spirit. Hanami sighs at the sight of your angry red burns, eyeing Jogo, “Such a barbaric curse…destructive to all life and environment.”

“HAH! You-!” Jogo guffaws. “I’ve see you uproot your own forests! Environmentally friendly my ass! Shut your trap.”

You wince from his loudness.

“So obnoxious, isn’t he? Well, you’re the lucky one here - you get to take a nap,” Hanami says. “Rest well before your…‘meeting’.”

Your pulse quickens at the expression on the curse’s face: a demented sort of excitement. There’s a sweet floral smell that falls over you, and then you begin to grow sleepy. Your eyelids start to flutter as you try to fight it – but you are eventually pulled deep into a dreamless sleep.

You are roused from your sleep by the touch of another. A hand on your forehead – a comforting presence. It’s warm, and familiar. You’re about to smile widely and look deep into his crystal eyes, but when your bleary eyes begin to focus, your heart stops.

There’s an easy, gentle smile on his face. His dark eyes shine brightly, but your own can’t help but drift to the obvious surgical scar running across his entire forehead.

Your reflexes kick in: you smack his hand away, rejecting the unwanted touch, and fall into a defensive stance. He lets out a hum of amusement, but otherwise does not react.

“My old friend,” Geto Suguru coos. “How wonderful it is to see you again. Never thought I’d be able to – what a gift your presence is, my dear.”

It’s then that you realize that you’re shaking; your chattering teeth render you unable to let any words out.

“Did Jogo and Hanami rough you up again? How rude of them,” He sighs. “But don’t be scared, it’s just your old friend Suguru.”

He stops to let his eyes roam over your hunched form. A sickening smirk spreads across his face – sickening because it’s just like the sweet smiles he used to give you.

“You know, you really are the best tracker around. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Too bad I know all your little tricks, though. Did you like the surprise I set up especially for you?” He smirks. “It’s hard to catch such a talented tracker as you off guard, but I think I managed quite well. You didn’t detect a thing, did you? They were supposed to be much further away, I know…it’s fascinating, isn’t it, the feats you can achieve through sorcery?”

You only stare at him in horror.

“No? Well, I know at least Jogo enjoyed it,” He says with a soft laugh, but his next words cause icy chills to run down your spine. “But I think I enjoyed it the most. The look on your face…was perfect.”

Your stomach turns at his words. His gaze is even worse: there’s a hungry, disturbing glint to them. Your eyes flit from his sharp onyx eyes to his traditional wear: his inky yukata and gilded kasaya are elegant and beautiful, but emanate darkness.

“Forgot what I looked like? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Geto smiles. His smile is soft and almost sweet, but out of place; its familiarity makes your stomach churn.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You finally speak, voice quiet and cracking. “You shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s a bit harsh, doll. I’m not the only one who doesn’t belong in this world,” He says, lip curled in disgust. “Monkeys roam the earth. That’s more of a disgrace than my existence…I hope you’d agree.”

You only manage to gasp out, “How are you even here?”

His eyes meet yours, crinkling in a dark sort of amusement. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you? There’s a price to pay for that knowledge, doll.”

“You’d…Geto would never hurt me,” You whimper. “Never.”

Geto just smiles. “I wouldn’t? Maybe not.”

His piercing eyes seem to see stare right through you. “But what about my best friend?”

You freeze.

“Is that such an uncomfortable thought?” He chuckles a little too lightly. “Never thought about it even once? Not even after he killed me?”

He tuts at you, clicking his tongue. “Sweetheart, I knew you were blinded by him, but never to this degree. How low you have fallen…”

He moves closer. Your breath is trapped in your lungs and you can’t move.

“One toe out of line and you might end up like me. Don’t you see?” He shakes his head.

Hot anger flashes through you, and your tongue lashes out before you can think. “One toe out of line? No. No. You committed genocide. You murdered your entire family in the name of it. For what? A delusional dream?”

He sighs. “Of course. So brainwashed…you’re practically a monkey. How disappointing. You don’t get it, do you? I was apparently his everything, and look how I ended up.”

“You’re not Geto!” You cry out. “You can’t be.”

He laughs softly, but his gaze is razor-sharp. “Are you sure these aren’t Geto’s thoughts?”

You bite your lip in nervous thought. “Ge- you…why am I here?”

He ignores your question as he begins to circle you like a hawk, eyes sharp and hungry. “You know, you’re not quite what I imagined you to be.”

You take a few tentative steps back, trying to subtly increase the distance between you and the living corpse in front of you, but he strides over to your side when he notices.

“I’m just so curious,” He says, eyes raking over your figure. “You really are (Y/N), aren’t you? Fits the descriptions…”

The blood drains from your face. You back away from his seeking hands that threaten to touch you, to investigate you.

“There’s a disgusting amount of papers with your name written all over them – I don’t think Hanami would have liked me much before. Such a waste of stationery,” He says, his twisted smirk pulling shivers down your spine. “Why was I so fixated on you? You don’t look like anything special. Don’t tell me…I actually fell for someone as plain as you?”

“What?” You breathe out, eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise. “Geto, you…he…it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t even know,” He coos in faux pity. “How cruel to find out in this way. Seems like you have only ever focused on my former equal. You only pay attention to the strongest – how shallow. What did I ever see in you?”

“I- that’s not-“ You try to form a sentence, deny it, say it’s not true because it truly isn’t, but your tongue and vocal chords won’t cooperate with you.

“When confronted with the truth, humans get tongue tied,” He smiles, voice dripping with mockery. “How precious. What a good little monkey you are – so unbearably typical, so exemplary of your species.”

“Stop,” You gasp out.

“What, sweets? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Don’t call me that,” You try to say with conviction, but it leaves you weakly and softly, almost a plea.

“What, you only like it when he calls you that?” He says with a dark chuckle. “How pathetic. How much has you brainwashed you into thinking he acutally wants anything to do with you? Gojo doesn’t like to get attached. And even when he does–”

He leans forward, invading your space, pressing up too closely to your body. “–sometimes you still end up dead.”

“Stop,” You beg. “Get away from me. You’re-you’re scaring me, Suguru.”

“Am I?” He smirks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know what to do to make you forgive me, though. Used to work on Shoko, too.”

“No, stop!” You cry, ragged breaths leaving you. “This isn’t you, stop, please, stop!”

“You’re right,” He smiles wickedly, eyes dark. “It’s not.”

His lips meet yours. It burns your skin, but not pleasantly – it’s all wrong, and it hurts. You shove him away with as much force as you can, leaving him stumbling back a few paces. He laughs. He laughs.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” He chuckles, amused. “You’re stronger than you used to be. Maybe you actually live up to being Grade 1 now, huh?”

“Who are you?!” You cry out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m Geto Suguru,” He says with a crazed smile. “Is it that hard to believe when my body was never retrieved?”

“What do you want from me?” You snarl, growing angry. “You’ve just been toying with me, you bastard. Trying to play all these mind games on me, leaving your dirty work to your underlings. None of it feels substantial enough to kidnap me.”

A cackle escapes Geto, “You’re right, it isn’t. By yourself, you aren’t of any interest to me. Just a memento of the past – I don’t have any use for you.”

He continues with a smirk, “I have to say though, your reactions have piqued my interest slightly. Jogo seems to feel the same way. Perhaps if you could be our little monkey for entertainment - it might keep Jogo out of trouble elsewhere.”

Reduced to entertainment.

“You’re sick,” You say, shaking your head.

“Hardly. It’s only natural treatment for someone so unimportant. Should I be frank?” He asks, touching his chin to mock contemplation. “You are here solely as means of luring him out.”

You break out in a cold sweat. It was as you suspected and feared: you are only bait. Bait for the strongest.

“He won’t come,” You declare. “This is pointless.”

“Do you take me as an idiot monkey?” Geto frowns. “You’re not the only one who can read residuals. He came last time, and he will come this time.”

“He doesn’t know,” You hiss. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Geto only smiles. “He’ll come.”

His confidence scares you. Even though it would be very unlikely Gojo is even aware that you’re away on a mission, doubt still swirls in your gut. You don’t want him to walk into this trap – who knows what Geto has planned?

While you mull over your thoughts, Geto grows impatient.

“This is quite dull. Let’s test your strength, First Grader,” He smirks. “Maybe they’ll pass you to Special Grade if you can land a single hit.”

Suddenly, your breath is stolen from you. You double over in pain, caught off guard by the assault to your stomach. It was only a kick, but it was the hardest you’ve been hit in your entire life by another sorcerer.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten my manners,” Geto says drily. “When harkening back to our school days, I must ask if you’re ready before we spar.

But don’t forget, the enemy won’t wait for you. Didn’t we learn that?”

Satoru’s words. He would often preemptively attack before the sparring session officially began, and he would always recite those exact words. You feel sick.

You don’t respond, knowing it would take away from your focus. Instead, you concentrate on pouring your cursed energy into your hearing technique.

He begins his initial assault: he’s extremely agile, and his punches and kicks seem to come out of thin air. You anticipate his attacks with your highly developed sense of hearing, listening for each twitch of his muscles and the roar of his appendages slashing through the air. Essentially, you read his moves before he has finished them. Your body can’t always keep up with your hearing enough to avoid him, though, but the blows are lessened by your half-developed shielding.

You haven’t attempted a single hit of your own – all your energy has gone into avoiding each of his potent attacks. Every time you see an opening, your chance is ruined by another attack of his.

After a few minutes of religiously defending, your senses slow. You can hear everything, but you can’t physically keep up with him. You begin to take hit after hit after hit – until you’re forced to retreat several paces back. Blood drips from your nose, spilling into your mouth and filling your mouth with the metallic tang of iron. It tastes of defeat and cowardice.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” Geto roars in laughter. “To call you a sorcerer is sacrilegious at best. How disappointing you are. Haven’t improved an ounce since our days together, have you? Other than that half-baked excuse of a technique - trying to imitate the strongest, perhaps?”

You ignore his taunts, using the time to draw out two small daggers from your sleeves. You fare better with bows, but the twin blades are better than nothing.

“What cute little pocket knives,” Geto jeers. “They look sharp.”

“Want to find out?” You growl.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

It is a dance that never ends – you are held captive by the need to defend yourself, not able to stop without the fear of further injury. You are slowly giving up hope when time seems to slow down. Your breath hitches as you spot what you need desperately: an opening. You zero in on the opening, thrusting your right hand into the open space. A spurt of red splashes your hand – your aim was true.

You step back immediately, parrying his retaliating blow with your other blade. More droplets spill over you, a shower of red that makes you nauseous.

You’re breathing hard. You haven’t fought with a sorcerer – or even a curse – for a long time, and it’s taking more of your strength than you anticipated.

Geto doubles over, which fills you with confusion. There’s no way those two nicks did any substantial damage, so why is he hunched over in pain?

And then you hear it. Laughter. Crazed laughter erupts from him in waves. When he looks up at you, the fear in the pit of your stomach intensifies. He’s not hurt – he’s pissed off. Very.

“I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations. But that’s not saying much when I expected nothing from a dirty monkey like you,” He spits. “What a brat.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to spar like old times,” You glare, grip tightening on your daggers. “It was only per your suggestion.”

“Your insolence boils my blood…how does he care for someone like you?! How did I?!” He roars. “You are nothing!”

He rushes forward faster than you can register and knocks you to the ground. You instinctively roll out of the way and are still nearly stomped on. You try to stand up, or even just sit up, but can’t. You begin to panic – you feel frozen in place, unable to even turn your head.

“Now you can’t run away,” He growls. “Should I make it a little unbearable? You deserve it.”

You feel a great pressure forcing your body into the ground. It’s excruciating; you feel as if your bones are grinding together and all your muscles are compressed. You can’t bite back the cry that erupts from your throat.

“Now you really feel the gravity of the situation,” He says with a demented smile. “You know, maybe I don’t need you anyway. He can just come to retrieve your body. Can’t make the same mistake twice, after all. Leaving a body to rot is a vulnerability. I could fix that for him, too…leave a puddle where you used to stand? If I crush you long enough, perhaps…”

“Fuck you,” You manage to get out. “You’ll never win. You’ll never beat Satoru.”

You fall flat on your face, coughing, as you are released from his technique. You try to push yourself up, but you only manage to a kneeling position. Not that it matters anyway, not when you are grabbed by your throat and hoisted in the air.

“Do you always make so many mistakes?” He hisses. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to with how hard he’s clutching your trachea. You have no idea when you dropped your blades, but they’re not in your hands now, so you have to resort to pitifully clawing at his grip with your bare hands.

Your vision begins to blur and darken as you asphyxiate. Howls of laughter ring in your ears, getting quieter and then louder as your hearing fades in and out.

Is this how it will end? No, it can’t, you can’t let it. You can’t leave yourself to die at the hands of Geto Suguru. You can’t die at the hands of your former friend, and be found by your other best friend. You can’t do that to him.

You claw harder, more desperately, even though you feel yourself weakening. It’s futile – his grip won’t even loosen at your efforts.

You have to use your weaker technique. If you do it perfectly, it might propel him from your body, giving you a chance to escape. Escape to where, you don’t know, but you need to try. You don’t have any chance otherwise.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you focus all of your cursed energy into the skin that is touching Geto. Your close your eyes, visualizing the perfect invisible wall that encases Gojo – no flaws, no gaps, no way to get past – and then you release your energy.

There’s a loud smack that resonates through the air, and then you crumple to the ground. When you look up, you can see a hard shell jutting between you and Geto, effectively shielding you. Geto is clutching his arm, which is now red and swollen.

You actually did it. It was a perfect use of your technique.

“You are frustrating, but no matter. I have other methods at my disposal. Didn’t think I’d have to pull this on you, but you seem to be begging for your demise, so I might as well use it,” He grits his teeth, and holds one arm out, his forearm curling up.

A ball of black energy appears at his fist. It is nebulous and shifts as it grows bigger. It begins to glow as time passes, as it amasses more energy. You have no idea what that is, but you highly doubt your shield will be able to block it. As you think about your options, your shield begins to fade away – you are nearly out of cursed energy. You are wide-eyed as you watch the last sections of your shield dissipate to nothing.

Entirely defenseless, you heave yourself to a standing position and try to stumble away. You fall to one knee in agony – Jogo and Geto have taken a toll on you.

You look over to see the ball of darkness leave Geto’s fingers. You are frozen, knowing you can do nothing, but also knowing you will die if you do nothing.

It approaches, and you close your eyes. Hopefully it will completely destroy you in a single instant, so it won’t be torturous. At least you won’t be in pain for long.

It’s going to hit you. And then you suppose it does. You feel weightless, like you weigh nothing. Perhaps your body has been destroyed, and this is how your brain is processing the absence of your nerve endings.

But if you are not here anymore, why does the wind whip through your ears?

You were mistaken. You don’t just feel weightless, you are weightless.

When you open your eyes, tears spill out at the sight in front of you. Tousled white hair, a blindfold tucked over his eyes, rigid determination showing through his features.

“I didn’t know this is where we were holding the school reunion. Class of ‘007, except Geto went all rogue and didn’t end up graduating. What a failure!”

His words are playful, and he’s smiling, but somehow his tone doesn’t match. It’s serious and dark, not at all jocular. He seems to be making an effort to keep up his lighthearted persona, but his true feelings can’t help but bleed out.

“Ah, you finally showed up,” Geto cackles. “It’s not good to have a weakness. I was about to do you a favor.”

Gojo laughs bitterly, “Don’t you know? Strength comes from weaknesses. Not that you would understand.”

“In any case…” He looks down at you. “I won’t let you take away my strongest weakness.”

next part

a/n 2.0: Okay so, idk how it 100% is in the manga bc I haven’t read it, but basically this ‘Geto’ (*cough* Kenjaku) has thoughts that are Kenjaku but with some of Geto’s memories ?? .. sorry if that’s non canon heehee

Bonus!!: Also I’ve been learning some Japanese so here is Gojo’ name spelled out: ごじょさとる。This is more for my own enjoyment 🫣 but here you go lol

tag list: @thenyxsky, @whitehairedtwink, @screwyou3

also thank you @zoyatoshi for your such sweet reblogs 🥹🥹 literally inspired me to finish this chapter up after 6+ months !!

[landosgirl97]

Not Too Sweet- Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: Talk of diabetes, a little angst, worried Rooster, let me know if I missed anything!

——Reader’s POV

I walked into work late because I had so much difficulty waking up which means I didn’t get to see Bradley for very long before he was up in the air. I went to the locker room to lock my things in my locker and made my way out to talk to him briefly before I walked up to the control tower. Bradley saw me and jogged over before doing his checks on his jet. He leaned down to kiss my head and brushed my hair back behind my ear. His brows furrowed. “Baby, are you feeling okay? You’re sweating and clammy.” I shook my head. “I woke up and my blood sugar was really low so I’m still recovering.” He nods his head. “Tell Cyclone or Mav, baby, they’ll send you home. You have your medical waiver.” He was referring to the waiver I had to get to be in the Navy at all. Most people with Diabetes or hypoglycemia are not allowed in the military. I nodded my head as someone yelled for him. “I gotta go baby, let me know if you need anything.” Bradley said, giving me a quick kiss before going to do his pre-flight checks. I was mad at myself. I am usually really good at keeping my blood sugar under control. I fell asleep without eating last night and this is my penance.

I made my way slowly up the tower and found my spot at the window. Mav had either talked to Bradley or could tell something was off because he made his way over and knelt at my side. “You ok?” I nodded. “I’m okay Mav.” He looks at me questioningly but nods his head anyway and walks away. After they did their pre-flight checks, Bradley checked in. “Dagger Two to Tower, requesting permission to take off.” I cleared my throat before responding, “Dagger Two, the sky’s are clear. Have a safe flight.” I tried to keep my voice from shaking but I know he picked up on it. “ATC, are you okay?” I wanted to deny it but he knew. He knows everything. “I will be fine Lieutenant. You are cleared for take off.” I cut off the radio before Bradley could respond, noticing the way my hands were shaking. I wish I could get regulated but it almost seems impossible at this point. I didn’t realize I had zoned out until someone shook my shoulder.

“Hey,Y/N, your phone is beeping. It won’t stop.” I look up at Mav and put my hand out. He laid my phone in my hand and noticed the alert on the screen. “Y/N, why did you not tell me? I would’ve let you have some time off.” I shook my head. “I’m fine, Mav. I have a break soon.” He just shook his head and stood directly back from me. About 20 minutes later, I knew I needed to eat something or I’d hit the floor. I took my headset off, grabbing my phone and going to stand. After that, everything went dark.

——Bradley’s POV

I had only been in the air about 10 minutes when I heard a voice come in over my headset. “Dagger Two, this is Tower. Come in.” My heart dropped. It wasn’t Y/N, it was Maverick. “This is Dagger Two” “Listen, we have an ATC on the floor and need to know how to handle this.” My stomach dropped. “There are glucose gels and a granola bar in her bag. She always has it with her.” There is silence on the other line. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as I wait for a response. “Found them. Now what.” “Prop her up and put the glucose gel in her mouth. Can I talk to another ATC and get permission to land?” I listened until I got permission to land, immediately circling back and landing. As soon as I finished everything that was needed, I ran up to the tower, seeing Mav on the floor with Y/N leaned onto his side, still knocked out. I bent down, grabbing Y/N off the floor and carrying her down the stairs, knowing she needed to go to the Infirmary. I laid her on the bed and sat with her until she finally came to. “Brad- you’re supposed to be in the air!” She said groggily. “Well, you’re supposed to be awake so, that makes two of us.” I heard her giggle slightly as color started to come back to her face. I breathed a sigh of relief and handed her the granola bar to start crunching on. “Just so you know, Mav gave us both the rest of the day off. You are to go home and rest. And I’m supposed to help take care of you and report back throughout the day. “But I-“ “Nope. It’s already done. Finish that and we are going home. I want to cuddle up with my girl.” I watched as she nodded and began to eat her granola bar quicker. I felt much more relieved knowing that she is okay and moving.

[mrsfrankadler]

Figuring it out.

jake jensen x f!reader, bucky barnes x f!reader

A/N: LOOK WHAT Y/N’S MESSY ASS DID NOW🤣🤣 she’s all over the place.. lordt. but in her defence, she is in a vulnerable state, things will be normal for her soon. & don’t be afraid to hit up that ask box 💋

Warning: intentional lower case, not in y/n’s pov, angst?, silly little pet names 🙃 ( doll, dollface, baby ), kissing, SMUT ( p in v, praise, no aftercare 😓 ), awkwardness :/

Summary: babygirl is all over the place ( i am bad at summaries ) 🤕. can be read as a standalone but ⬂

pt1 pt2

⋆

the morning after your… unfortunate date with ransom, your alarm wakes you up earlier than usual. the jarring sound of that familiar ringtone reminded you of the obstacle you had to face today.

you were finally going back to work after your - much needed - mental health break.

being in a relationship with syd was hard in itself, but when he finally upped and left, that took a huge toll on your life. you were already affected mentally by the way he treated you when you were together but regardless you stuck around, so when he chose to leave, it just made you feel like shit.

when he noticed the effect of the break-up, jake suggested that you take some time off work to focus on yourself and try to recover, and so you did. but now that time was up.

jake was startled awake by the sounds of you rushing around to get ready, he was going to have to get used to you being awake at this time again.

you hear the floorboards creak as jake slowly steps out of his room, you peek your head out your door to see him in nothing but pajama shorts… who needs boundaries?

“you’re up early, y/n/n…” he points out, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.

“yeah, jay, i’m back to work today.”

he tries to hide his concern knowing you wouldn’t want him worrying about you but he can’t help the way his eyes widen at your statement. “ah. i remember.”

“yup.”

“huh.”

“so i gotta go jake, love you, i would hug you but you’re basically naked,” he frowns as you kiss him on the cheek, and with a deep breath, you’re out the door.

⋆

when you arrive at work, you make a bee-line straight to your little cubicle, not wanting anybody to ask too many questions about your whereabouts or your mental state.

when you thought you’d made it safe, you sunk into your chair and let out a deep breath. this is not so bad, you thought. until you heard a voice that was all too familiar to you. shit.

“well whaddaya know!” he practically bellowed at your cubicles entrance, “long time no see, dollface.”

luckily there was virtually no one in your vicinity so he didn’t draw to much attention. you let it slide.

you swivelled on your chair to face him, “barnes.”

bucky barnes, though you acted like you hated him, might have been the best part of your days at work. he was always cracking jokes and trying to make you laugh but you could never let him know you really found him amusing or he’d get too cocky.

“so, you were gone… and now you’re back.” he tilted his head with a grin. did he even know where he was going with this conversation? “what’s up with that?”

“yeah, i was. do you need something, barney? i wasn’t even gone that long.” you sighed.

“i missed you calling me that.”

“i didn’t miss your flirting.”

“oh, shit, yeah you have that boyfriend right?” he smirked and you internally groaned, screwing your eyes shut. really barnes?

the two of you stew in awkwardness before you break the silence.

“yeahhh, no. i don’t fuck with him anymore. we broke up.”

bucky’s face dropped. “ohh…” he just stood and scratched the back of his head, “damn.” and you huff out an annoyed sigh, resting your head in your hands on your desk until this idiot pipes up again.

“what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.” he came and sat on your desk.

“he treated me badly pretty much throughout the relationship and then he just dumped me. pretty much out of nowhere.” you just sighed.

“fuck, that’s awful. i’m sorry that happened to you…”

“yeah, thanks.”

“well, do you want a hug.. or something?” he trailed off, expecting to get shot down but;

“yes.”

you had to stand up slightly on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck and you rested your head on his warm chest. his big hands smoothed over your back, rubbing up and down to comfort you. you practically melted into his embrace, had you ever even hugged bucky before? shit felt good as fuck.

when you pull away, his hands linger on your waist and your mind starts to wander. why was he being so sweet and comforting? why did he seem genuinely concerned for me? does he actually care about me?

his steel blue eyes looked down at you through droopy lids. is he..?

he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. innocent enough. friendly enough.

he stared for a moment,

and then he ducked his head down to swipe his lips over yours. gently and barely, he kissed you.

“oh.”

“hm, i’m sorry, i shouldn’t-“

you decided to kiss him again, of course, to shut him up, no other reason. you figured you wouldn’t be able to handle the awkwardness that would follow his apology.

‘i’m sorry i kissed you, you’re going through a hard time, i overstepped’ etc, ugh no. if you were going to ruin the current dynamic of this friendship, you were going to get some fun out of it.

to avoid drawing attention, you whispered, “hm, it’s like three minutes till our lunch break and i think i want you to take me to the storage closet...”

if anything could evoke an instant boner from bucky barnes, it would be that sentence right there.

“and what would we do in there?” he smirked raising a brow.

“just shut up and let’s go.”

the two of you subtly made your way round to the storage room and briefly checked your surroundings before going inside. thank fuck there were no cameras around here.

when you had both made your way in, bucky immediately pushed you gently against the wall and started to kiss you again. his desperation was evident in the kiss, you could tell he’d wanted this for a really long time..

“i’ve wanted this for a really long time.” he whispered while trailing wet kisses down the nape of your neck.

all you can do is moan in response because, have you? you weren’t to sure.

he quickly gets to work and bunching your skirt up to your hips and moving your underpants to the side. at a tormentingly slow pace, he begins to rub circles on your clit eliciting a strained whine from you.

“that feel good?” you can practically hear the smirk is evident in his tone, as he dips his middle finger down to your hole to collect your slick, “fuck you’re wet.”

“well, that probably means you should hurry up and fuck me. you know, before we get caught.” you whispered to him.

he chuckles lowly, unbuckling and taking down his pants but his laughter comes to a halt as you begin to push his tip against your clit, silently begging him to get on with it. he smoothed his hands down the backs of your thighs, lifting you up so that you were just about hovering over the head of his dick and resting on the shelf behind you.

“you ready for me, doll?” he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your mouth. you nodded, ‘mhm’, and that was all the confirmation he needed to slowly lower you down onto his length, sharply sucking in air.

“awh fuck,” he groaned into your ear as he thrusted upwards into your cunt. “feel so fucking good around me, angel.”

the way he was moaning and whispering praises in your ear had you so wet to the point where he was effortlessly slipping in and out of you. his speed was causing the shelf you were rested on to rattle and shake which was making you both laugh slightly. you could feel him panting hot breath against your neck as he quickly rutted into you and you bit your lip to stifle your moans.

bucky admired you slightly sweaty, half-lidded form, “you’re so beautiful, y/n/n. can you feel what you do to me?”

getting praised and complimented like this was a stark contrast to your relationship with syd. sex with him was always pretty rough and there was never much love there. this felt different. in a good way.

the position that you were in mean that your clit was rubbing right up against his pelvis making it almost impossible to stay quiet.

to avoid finishing to quickly - you assume - he began to slow his pace, meaning he was now grinding into you with slow deep strokes that drove you crazy. you couldn’t help but let out quiet whimpers as you gripped his shoulder.

“you getting close?” he started to kiss on your neck.

“awh shit, bucky, i’m gonna-”

“come on, baby, come on this dick.” he grunted, his thrusts beginning to speed up again, indicating that he was also close. “can feel you squeezing me, just let go.”

“fuck!” you whisper-yelled as you reached your climax.

bucky pulled out of you and finished with a moan shooting his spend onto your inner thigh. breathlessly, he rested his head on your shoulder for a moment. you tapped his bicep,

“come on barney, don’t fall asleep on me now, i got places to be,” you checked your watch, “still got 8 minutes of lunch left.”

he picked you up off the shelf and gently placed you back down on your wobbly feet.

you turned to get a kleenex from the shelf to wipe away his jizz from your thigh and pulled your skirt back down.

“‘kay, fine, bossy. you go out first and i’ll come out five minutes later.” you could hear him redoing his belt buckle.

“okay cool.” you chirped, “um, thanks for… cheering me up, barnes. you are sweet.” you gave him a brief hug before slipping out of the moderately spacious big storage closet.

you inwardly sighed. what the fuckk.

⋆

the rest of your afternoon at work was not very eventful. just the usual shit. answering the occasional phone call, writing emails, counting down the minutes to go home… you didn’t really see much of bucky for the rest of that day but the thought of him didn’t leave your head. you just couldn’t really comprehend what you ( and him ) had done.

you let the flirty fuckboy at work hit it, real classy y/n. what is jake gonna think? you had to tell him, you two told each other everything so it would be wrong to keep this from him. it’s not like he’d be that bothered anyway. why would he care?

…

“YOU WHAT??” who were you trying to kid, you knew he wouldn’t take it well.

you were sat on the living room couch whilst he was frantically pacing living room.

“with that guy? ‘cause i don’t really know about him..,” he paused, “why?”

“hm, i was really horny i guess.” you rubbed your temples, “don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“oh no, hey, there’s nothing wrong with you.” he came and sat by you on the couch, “‘m not judging you. just confused. did you want to sleep with him?”

“i’m not sure jake. i just, i opened up to him a little about syd and, he comforted me and he gave a hug, but it was a weird hug and-“

“hey, hey,” he pulled you into his side and rested his head on top of yours. “i guess you don’t have to know right now. you’ll figure it out at some point.”

you just hummed in response.

“so how was your day, jake?”

he scoffed, “not as eventful as yours.” earning him a playful punch in his arm.

“whatever man.”

“you wanna watch adventure time?”

“yeah, jay.”

—

a/n: gollllyyy. i was tired when i wrote this so it’s not that great & im also pretty bad at endings but the middle wasn’t too bad…🤷🏾‍♀️ anyways what do we think. i dont see her going back to bucky and this was her seeking comfort in perhaps the wrong form but, what can you do?

[bcbdrums]

Any and all soul eater ships? I know crossstitch and soma but are there others?

I answered this before but I don't feel like digging up the post, lol. So here we gooooooo..... Only lightly touching on the first two.

Soul x Maka = perfection. I'll elaborate should anyone wish, heheh.

Stein x Spirit = extremely messy perfection (my fave flavor). I actually prefer them platonically but I don't knock the romance. It shows up in my fics here and there lol.

Not going into those two cuz I already do that in other posts and you already know those, so moving on....

Black Star x Tsubaki = I know a lot of folks prefer them as a found family vibe, but they're no different than Soul and Maka. Teens who once grown up, have found their other. These two with all their quirks absolutely complete each other. And it's one of those things...again like Soul and Maka, where they don't need a...big moment of love declaration, or confused and gradual realization of feelings... They already know. And it's just that matter of...coming of age to where they step into that next phase of life, you know? (manga spoiler here) aahhhhhh just imagining Black Star and Tsu raising little Angela! The absolute chaos, that would be so fantastic!

Kid x Liz = they're also a found family (with Patty) but I see them....as they get older, Liz realizing her feelings of protectiveness are something far deeper.... and she keeps it to herself, doesn't wanna mess with what they have. Until it's one day hurting her in the future, how much she loves him and can't do anything about it. And Kid notices she's not well, and asks her, so she just tells him cuz it's the easiest thing... and much, much to her surprise he fully reciprocates her feelings! Aaaaahhh!! I've mentally written that fic so many times I can hear their voices. Kid by his nature just doesn't have any of that as a priority, so he would not be the one to bring it up. It would definitely be Liz.

Stein x Marie = since they are sooooooo different between the two canons I'm still wrapping my head around my feelings for these two, in terms of how they come together. I think manga gives them a much stronger foundation. (so manga commentary here) Stein is obviously interested in her from the beginning, but the dude ain't gonna make a move it's not his nature. Marie... she has this sort of ideal picture in her head, and Stein while she loves him doesn't fit the bill so she's got her own issues to overcome. That's one of the things I love about them in manga... We don't get to see what happened offscreen sadly, but, we can surmise that just by nature of their being there for each other and the day to day stuff they had to do in exile... she was able to forget about her "gotta get married asap and do the housewife/nuclear family thing" and actually let herself....be herself. With Stein. And get to know him past her duty and her own issues. And Stein too, in a very new situation, recovering from madness and trying to figure out what on earth to do with his feelings. I need to give this more thought, but, I know they're still learning each other but also that they're good for each other. Anime... idk man, I don't feel it as hard there. (And Stein and Spirit are still soulmates in both canons regardless fite me.)

Ox x Harvar = we needed a lot more of Harvar in general but we needed Harvar pining after Ox okay? Okay. You can tell this dude will follow his meister to the ends of the Earth and beyond (like Kim and Jackie) but it's also pretty one-sided (also for Kim and Jackie, on Jackie's part.... just easier to see that in the story since the author likes girls and seems a bit anti-gay guys...). But anyway. Yeah I could see Harvar slowly and slowly winning Ox over one day with his absolute faithfulness.... ah! I love angst.

Ox x Kim = (manga spoilers) it's freaking canon first of all they're an actual dating couple, but also maaaaaan that dude's love and devotion for her....! My gosh. Those are some of my favorite chapters, absolutely phenomenal.

Black Star x Patty = chaos duo, enough said.

Sid x Naigus = that's just canon and awesome. Power couple. Also there's the vibe that she's older (like Tsu and Black Star) and that's kinda neat too, the slightly older voice of wisdom. I don't think about them much tho.

That's all that's leaping out at me... If I've forgotten something I'll add to this later. Kilik gets no one, sorry lol. I have some NOTP's as well, but you didn't ask about those haha.