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sameheart-sameblood · 1 year

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Love in the Time of Cordyceps

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

words: 7.1k

warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies 🙄

a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble

read on ao3!

After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself you’ll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more.

Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. It’s like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. You’d been doing it just fine these past fifteen years.

Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raiders’ gun, a few by their own hand.

The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality can’t save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living.

Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, they’re finally learning. You wonder what took them so long.

Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, you’ll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if you’d try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia.

Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall.

The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesn’t offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. It’s impressive albeit in a sad kind of way.

Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. “Fine,” he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, “but if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.” Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the “no love, no attachment” way of life.

You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep.

After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied.

“But what about the cowboy?” you ask.

“Joel? What about him?”

Your eyebrows arch, “He threatened to shoot me.”

“Only if you were infected. Just don’t get infected.” She says it like you’re discussing the weather.

Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. You’ve been called worse before.

The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess you’ll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. “Fuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what I’m fucking doing!.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasn’t the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow.

After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no “helpful” tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. You’ll never admit that it hurts. You don’t have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. “Couple of fuckin’ babies I’m working with,” she seethes. “If you don’t grow up I’m finding a new crew.”

It’s decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Bill’s. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesn’t argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Bill’s goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. You’re sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course it’s when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree root…But hey, progress is progress.

With the supplies in tow and Frank’s compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them aren’t content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next.

Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. “Maybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.” Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears.

You almost don’t hear Joel snarl at them. “You lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket.

They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think you’re too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee.

The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only “weapon” you have is the belt you’re wearing, it’s clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences you’ve had, this will be the way you go out.

A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs.

Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. “You could have run,” he hisses at you, making you jump. You don’t know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. “Why didn’t you run?” His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, “We’re a team. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you can’t quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, “Next time, you run.”

******

After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant.

It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynn’s, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the “proper pool stance.”

Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldn’t care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and that’s why he takes a particular interest in making sure you’re safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops.

******

During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frank’s. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you can’t hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best.

Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep won’t not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible.

After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . “Going somewhere?” he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, “Couldn’t sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ve had that room before. Can’t say it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” You lived for these little snippets into Joel’s life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. “I’m just gonna make camp on the couch,” you say, stifling a yawn.

Joel shakes his head. “You take my room. The couch is good enough for me.” This man. Hadn’t anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. “It’s a big bed. We can share.” There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joel’s smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. “Please,” you pout, “I can’t sleep in my room and I won’t get any rest knowing you’re crammed on that dainty little loveseat.”

It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, “Care which side you get?” Joel thinks, then shrugs. “Left is good.” You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, “If you’re gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.” That got him moving again.

The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. It’s clear he’s trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you.

“Thought you were asleep,” he murmurs.

You hum, “I was. You woke me up.”

It’s meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. “Sorry.”

The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. “It’s ok. It’s your bed.”

As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. “You mind if I read for a few minutes?”

That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frank’s is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. “What are you reading?”

It’s like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, “It’s just…I never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite of…it was a favorite of somebody I knew.”

“You can read out loud to me if you want,” you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. “Not a chance.”

Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You aren’t attached to Joel. How could you be? He’s just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.

The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool.

******

The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days don’t seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human.

Winter in Boston isn’t fun. Ok that’s an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder.

The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Bill’s or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons.

Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, you’d assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you don’t pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do.

Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths.

You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard day’s work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.

The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards you’ll proudly gift to Joel and Tess.

Maybe if you hadn’t been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin.

A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your group’s insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesn’t matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still don’t get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. It’s fine, you tell yourself, it’s just a scratch. You’ll wash it off when I get home and be good as new.

With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle.

It’s only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. “I told you to stay out of the sewers.”

You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,” you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isn’t one of gratitude, it’s worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, “It’s not worth it if you lose your leg.” And people claim you’re dramatic.

Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. “I just need a shower. Then I’ll be right as rain.” As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. “I can hear you pacing,” you call over the sound of the warming shower.

Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. “I just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure you’re alright.” The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, “I’m fine. You worry too much!”

******

It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, it’s not long before you can’t ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you can’t stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But there’s something different when it’s your own blood.

In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain you’re in.

You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, “See? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-“

Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. “The only thing you’re gonna do tonight is rest.”

You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. “I still have to eat,” you mope.

“You will. I’ll open a can of soup or something.”

The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. “I just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel like…” Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joel’s softening gaze helps you continue. “I feel like I’m useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.”

The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, “Of course you contribute. We wouldn’t have kept you around if you hadn’t.” It’s meant to make you feel better but it doesn’t, especially in your current laid up state.

“So are you going to get rid of me if I’m no longer useful?” you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears.

Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. “First of all, you’re going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, you’re thinking there’s only one kind of way to be useful.”

“I can’t shoot like you two can. I can’t fight. I can’t threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. That’s it. I’m too soft for anything actually important.”

Joel frowns, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. ‘Being soft’ in a world like this is an act of defiance. It’s brave as hell. What you consider important? I don’t want that for you.”

Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. He’s trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. “Me and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us there’s still innocence and good out there.”

The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re useful just being you.”

While you still wish you matched Joel and Tess’ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that you’ve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years you’ve been fighting and surviving and that’s nothing to look down on.

“And for what it’s worth, “ he adds, “you scared the hell out of me the first time we met.”

You grin at him, shocked, “Really?”

He nods, smirking cheekily, “Really. Still do sometimes.”

******

Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, it’s not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood.

It also helps that you’re sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily you’ve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid.

He catches you staring and breaks the silence, “Were you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadn’t run into you.” The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, “No, I thought I’d let it be a soup-rise.”

Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, “The extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?”

He nods, “Yeah. I think it’s soup-er.” His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing.

After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and you’re left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable.

Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that you’re fine. But you’re alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning.

******

You don’t wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. He’ll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasn’t sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you looked…

But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones.

“We need to get her to a doctor. Now.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, like he’s trying desperately not to lose it.

Tess still maintains her signature composure. “We can’t, Joel. It’s too late for that.”

Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. “It’s too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all they’ll focus on is her fever. They’ve put people down for way less. You know that.”

In your addled state, you wonder who they’re talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask.

“The doc will give us the meds. We’ve bribed him before.”

Tess shakes her head, “Antibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. We’re no good to her dead. ”

Joel scoffs, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“She rides it out.”

“She’s been ‘riding it out’ for two days. Look at her,” Joel’s voice gets closer as he peers down at you, “she’s fighting but she’s losing.”

Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad.

If you’re dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, they’re your family now and you care about them. If you’re being honest, you’ve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you won’t be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you won’t get the chance to tell Joel you love him…

Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, you’re dying.

“You’re ok, kid,” she whispers, “you just have to hang in there.” It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But you’ve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants.

You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. “Maybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I can’t.”Heavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion.

******

Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someone’s hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as you’re made to come to.

Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away.

A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. “It’s alright. It’s only me.”

Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. It’s more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you weren’t in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel aren’t lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel.

“What’s happening?” Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least it’s intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair.

“You got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.” The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. We got you some meds, though. You’re gonna be ok.” He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry.

Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, “Where did you get the antibiotics from?”

Joel hesitates, “Bill and Frank had some.”

You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting.

“It’s done. No use getting angry about it now.”

You glare up at him even though you’re really just upset with yourself. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. “We’re a team, remember?”

It’s too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain.

Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldn’t be something you feel the need to earn. But you’re all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christ’s sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.

After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene you’ve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. There’s still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back.

Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. “Thank you,”is all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, “I would do the same for you. You know that, right?”

Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself you’re still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionate“I know, honey. I know.”

******

After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still won’t let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though you’ve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, you’re quickly getting bored with bed rest. But you’ve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut.

Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird. It’s one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow.

After a few minutes, sleep still won’t come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.” He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child.

You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, “But I’m just not tired.” Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. “Your body’s been through a lot. You need rest.”

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. “Sorry I just thought I’d sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.”

“No!” you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, “I want you to stay but you’re not sleeping in that chair one more night.”

Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “If I stay will you promise to go to sleep?”

You nod very seriously. “Of course.”

Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. “Liar,” he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. It’s cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed.

You can’t help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. “If you’re not tired you could read to me.” Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, “I did almost die, you know.” He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle.

Frowning, you reach out to touch Joel’s arm. “Do you mind starting from the beginning?” He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…”

His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that can’t keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table.

You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. “We can keep reading tomorrow. But right now you’re going to sleep.” Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers.

You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,“I won’t. I mean it.”

Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. He’s watched over you for long enough. It’s your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe.

For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, ’I love yous’ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds.

You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, you’ve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know you’ll long to say the words to him soon, for now it’s enough to have him in your arms.

Joel’s breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see.

Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But it’s a price you’re willing to pay a thousand times over.

******

#im on a mission to make joel as soft as possible lol #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #allie writes

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whumpy-bi · 9 months

Text

Rescuers/medics bringing in a more “emotionally aware” member of their crew to talk to a recently rescued Whumpee, who has spent the past few days lashing out and refusing any treatment.

They’re crouched behind their bed when Caretaker walks in, wide eyes watching them intently. They know Caretaker can see them—the bed is giving them a sense of security, Caretaker figures, a barrier between them and anyone else.

Caretaker keeps their voice soft, but loud enough that Whumpee can hear them. “Hey,” they start.

“You’re Whumpee, right?” They only nod to themself, knowing the answer. “I’m Caretaker…” They notice the apprehension in Whumpee’s stare.

“I’m not a medic, don’t worry. I just want to talk to you, would that be okay?”

Whumpee finally nods. Good, an acknowledgment.

Caretaker slowly lowers themselves to their knees, stopping at eye level with Whumpee. Notably, they hadn’t attempted to come any closer, nor attempted to move Whumpee from behind the bed.

“I heard you were a little upset this morning. Is that true?”

Finally, a verbal response.

“Yeah.”

“I heard you got pretty angry, with the medic. That true, too?”

“…Am I in trouble?”

Caretaker shakes their head, resting their hands on their knees. “No, not at all. I just want to understand what happened. Do you know why you were angry?”

“…No. I just didn’t want them near me.”

They hummed in thought. “Well…I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to sleep since we brought you here.”

Whumpee was silent, but frowned.

“I know I always feel pretty crappy when I can’t sleep. I get angrier than I mean to. Do you think maybe that’s why?”

“…Maybe.”

“Well, that’s alright. I can help you figure out how to get some sleep, we can talk about that too. But do you remember specifically why you lashed out at the medic today? What did—“

“He grabbed me. I don’t want people to grab me. He wouldn’t stop grabbing me.”

Caretaker nodded again, shifting their jaw as they listened. “That makes sense. I probably wouldn’t like that, either. What if he asked to touch you, before he did?”

Whumpee was silent again, but they quirked their head to the side. Considering.

“I’m sure we can all do that, asking to do things. We can tell you what we’re doing, before we do it. So you know how we’re helping you. Would that help? I think that’d be a lot less frustrating.”

Whumpee mumbled, now. They’d come closer to the other side of the bed.

“Maybe, yeah.”

Caretaker smiled warmly. “That’s good, I can tell them that. Now…I wanna help you get some sleep. I think that’ll help you feel a lot better, too.”

They watch Whumpee quietly as they climb back onto the bed, careful not to move too quickly themselves.

“Is it hard to sleep in here?”

No answer again. Caretaker glances over to the window.

“It’s pretty bright outside, isn’t it? Even with the parking lot lights at night. I can get some heavier curtains, if you’d—“

“It’s hot.” Whumpee’s voice is barely there, a hushed mumble.

Caretaker’s eyebrows raise, their expression a relieved smile. This was good.

“Yeah? I can’t sleep if it’s too warm, either. Here, I can…” They very slowly rise to stand, keeping eye contact with Whumpee as they do so. “I can lower the temperature, that’ll help a lot. I’ll just make it a little cooler in here…I can make sure you have water at night, too. Nice cold water.”

Whumpee watches them closely as they adjust the temperature, less apprehensive than before.

Caretaker suppresses a chuckle at Whumpee’s expression. “You look pretty tired, Whumpee. You wanna try sleeping again?”

“…Maybe.”

They let Caretaker help adjust them into a sleeping position, leaving the blanket by their ankles for now. As Caretaker goes for the light switch, Whumpee calls out one more time.

“Will you come back?”

“Sure I will, Whumpee. I’ll check on you a lot, you can ask for me whenever you want. Why?”

“I…liked talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you, too, Whumpee.”

Whumpee’s prolonged nap that day was the best sleep they’d had in months.

#whump #whumpee #whump writing #writing #caretaker #rescue #whump aftermath #medical whump #feral whumpee #gentle caretaker

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castiwls · 1 month

Text

false god - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt;'They all warned us about times like this. They say the road gets hard and you get lost'

Requested; @andicedeo

Notes;sorry its taken so long a-levels are kicking my ass rn

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Ever since Dean had been pulled down to hell your life had been a whirlwind. You’d been under the impression that your boyfriend’s demon blood issue was a thing of the past just to come to the realisation that maybe it wasn’t as far gone as he’d made you believe.

Sam had been instant that after Azazel’s death, that part of his life was over. That while it would never go away he would never let it cause issues again. Yet that had all come tumbling down when a new demon had made its way into your lives.

During the year Dean had been in hell you’d been hopeless to do anything but watch as Sam crumbled before your eyes. He pulled away and began spending more and more time alone something which never sat right with you.

Your eyes glanced at the clock hanging off the motel wall and a sigh left your lips. 3 hours. Sam had been gone for 3 hours. You’d given up on trying to call him about five calls ago and instead had taken to watching whatever crappy movie cable was currently showing.

The door opening pulled your attention from the movie. A frown was etched onto your face as Sam caught your gaze. He stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights before moving to shut the door.

“Hey. Sorry…I…I uh didn’t mean to be gone for that long.” His shoulders were hunched slightly as he spoke and he refused to meet your gaze. He was feeling guilty and you knew it. “Where were you.” You turned your attention to him fully letting the movie blend into the background.

He faltered for a moment before moving to stand in front of you. From your spot on the bed, you could make out the dark bags under his eyes and the worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin. “Sam. Please tell me what’s going on.” You reached out to rub his arm. “I know something up.”

You already knew what was up. The last time Sam had looked this bad was just before Azazel had kidnapped him and taken him and the others to the ranch. You knew it had something to do with the demon blood (the thought alone sent a shiver down your spine)

He stared down at you for a moment. A sigh left his lips before he all but collapsed down to the floor. His hand landed on one of your legs and a small groan left his lips. A look of concern flashed across your face as he readjusted himself to lean against your leg.

Your hand fell into his hair, slowly rubbing against his scalp as you both sat for a moment. “It’s her, isn’t it? Ruby.” The name alone left a bad taste in your mouth and him tense. “You don’t have to say anything.” You continued. “I know it’s her.”

He moved his head to rest on your knee. “I need her help. I need to get Dean back.” He stared up at you, his gaze softening. “You have to understand.”

“Sam.” The word fell from your lips as a sigh. You knew he was struggling and you expected nothing less. You’d been patient as he grieved. As you both grieved, but this was taking it a step far.

You could feel him slipping through your fingers but you were determined to not let him fall through entirely. You knew the demon blood would cause issues, you weren't stupid. But you were prepared to do whatever you had to.

Your relationship meant too much and you refused to let him pull away. You’d been through this once and you’d do it again.

“There are other ways to do this. You were so glad when Azazel was gone and you could put the whole demon blood behind you, why bring it back now.” You moved to cup his face with your hands, rubbing a thumb over his cheek.

“Think about this. Please.” You trailed off for a moment. “I can’t lose you as well.”

At your words, realisation seemed to spark in his eyes as he pushed himself up to his knees. “You're not gonna lose me. I promise.” He reached out to cup the back of your head. “I…I’m willing to look at other things if that’s what you want.” You could feel the worry in his tone as he spoke and it pulled on your chest.

The thought of losing you sent a spike of fear through him as his actions dawned on him. He’d spent so much time obsessing over the idea of getting stronger and being able to live without Dean that he’d completely forgotten in his haste how his actions would affect you.

“I’m not gonna leave Sam.” You smiled reassuring him as he pulled you into his chest, his head finding the crook of your neck.

You’d never leave him. Not while he was so vulnerable. You knew there was a chance along the way he could be swayed onto the wrong path, having demon blood in you was something which you could never imagine. But with Azazel gone, you knew nothing was going to come of this blood.

As long as you were here you would do everything in your power to keep him on the right track.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

Am I the Asshole for tipping?

My (21M) girlfriend (22F) and I like to go to restaurants every now and again to spend time with each other between classes. I love it! I love her a lot and I really love getting to treat her like a princess when we go, but there's been a recent issue as of late. My girlfriend deeply hates it when we get a girl waiter and usually tries and gets the host to switch out if possible, which usually is. I was a waiter myself and I know it's a pain, but she gets pissed if I say in anyway I'm fine or would like a waitress. But from our last trip, the host was unable to do so and we had to have her. I don't care what the gender of the waiter is, but my girlfriend does because "she doesn't even want to think about the idea of them flirting with me." I would never cheat on my girlfriend, I genuinely love her, but she has a deep insecurity she won't tell me why for and gets upset about any women I'm not related to near me. It was annoying in the beginning of our relationship and she's gotten slightly better since, but she still doesn't like waitresses.

But back to the point, she was very snippy with the waitress and was acting like a bit of a karen which was embarrassing. By the time we were done eating, I just wanted to go home but she asked the waitress to go and box our food for us (typically they just had us the to go boxes and customers do it themselves at this restaurant) and it just felt terrible to watch. I always pay when we eat out, and I wanted to leave a big tip as a way of apologizing for my girlfriend's behavior but I knew she'd be pissed at me if I left one (even though I try and tip 15-20% when I can always). After my girlfriend got up, I quickly left $5 under my cup. I knew it was an incredibly crappy tip but it was all the cash I had on me so the day after, I called the restaurant and asked them to charge a 25% tip to my card if they could and to make sure it went to the waitress who dealt with us. They said they would which is great, but I'm very worried that what I did was wrong. I want to make clear, I love my girlfriend! And I would never cheat on her, in any way and I always try to make that clear to her and try not to act friendly with other girls, but I'm also an ex-waiter and I know just how my day has been countlessly ruined by customers that treat me like a crap and leave insulting tips (or no tip at all) and I didn't want that waitress to feel that way (not insinuating that I like her or am into her, I just know how it is to work with customers , waiter to waiter). I know to my girlfriend she would think this is cheating, and I don't want her to feel bad at all or insecure but I also don't want the waitress to feel bad. I've been talking about it with some friends, but I thought I might ask here, was I the asshole for tipping? Should I have just forgotten about it? Thank you

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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alexa-fika · 5 months

Text

Revenge and Teasings ( Asl x sister!reader)

A/N: Yall, I COOKED; we got some of that ASL action up in here 🫦. Will this make you guys forgive me for leaving you unfed for two days? We got those polled jobs; I think we all agreed on these guys’ jobs. I didn’t ask about Luffy cause he has a canonically modern au job given by Oda 👀 . Guys, I researched Law and firefighting for a few hours for this. Im a teacher, so thankfully, I didn't have to research that one. Also, beware, this does address abusive relationships, but dw, I also included a lot of wholesomeness at the end cause; hello?

Taglist at the bottom < 3

Dividers by @/saradika

The three Brothers find themselves in the living room, Ace and Luffy roughhousing while Sabo sighs, trying to separate them.

Their usual antics were halted as the door to the house slammed open and closed, their little sister standing at the door, tears going down her face.

“O-Oh hey, you guys are all here earlier!” She exclaims hastily, wiping her face

The fighting paused as all three paused and stared, Sabo nodding.

"Yeah… I only had a short meeting with a client today; Ace just had a PD day, and Luffy didn’t have a shift today… are you okay, Reader?”

He asked her, glancing at her; her eyes were puffed up, her hair was everywhere, and her clothes were covered with dirt

“Yeah! Yeah! Just had a little stumble outside; it was so embarrassing since everyone saw it and got overwhelmed,” she replies quickly, trying to fix the mess in her hair

The brothers all glanced at each other and then back to Reader, who clearly was lying.

Ace narrowed his eyes at her.

"You’re lying."

Luffy nodded also.

“Yeah, you’re really bad at lying when you’re upset. What’s wrong?”

“You caught me.”

She laughs

“The administration called me out today; one of my co-workers complained about how I ran the classroom; I was so upset I lost balance on my bike and fell,” she winced, rubbing her nose.

“To make matters worse, now I have a bunch of paperwork to do, thanks to her, so I have to get started on that,” she groans, walking up the stairs

“I’ll be downstairs for dinner!” she calls as she enters her room, closing the door behind her

“….”

“Since when does she call the other teachers ‘co-workers’? She always calls them by name when telling us about them, doesn’t she?” Sabo questions

“It’s absolute bullshit that anyone would complain about her classroom, I’ve seen her lesson plans, and they are one of a kind; there's no way anyone could complain about them,” Ace adds

“And why was she so worked up over paperwork…? She always loves doing it; she was one of those weirdos who loved having something to do…., especially for her kids.”

“She definitely lying again….” Sabo concludes, getting up.

“Let me talk to her!” Luffy exclaims, shooting up

“I think it’s best we all go together; if we go alone, she will easily be able to brush us off or lie again; it’s harder to do that with three people onto you.”

“Okay then, let’s go,” Ace said, getting up as well and climbing up the stairs

“Reader? Can you open up for a minute?”

“Y-Yeah! Just give me a minute!” She screamed, sounds of her scrambling being heard

“Hey, I thought I told you guys I had paperwork to do?” she nervously smiled as she opened the door

“ We know you are l-“ Luffy starts but is cut off as Ace quickly wraps his arms around him, covering his mouth

“We know you’re having a crappy day, but we thought that since we were all here, we would spend some time together,” Sabo cuts in with a gentle smile on his face

“O-oh, well…yeah, come in then!” She said, opening the door wider with a smile

After some whispering between Ace and Luffy, the brothers pile in; Ace sits in her desk chair while Luffy throws himself on her bed next to her, and Sabo takes a seat on the bed, glancing at her

"Hey, what’s this reader?” Luffy said, raising his sister’s sleeve to reveal a dark bruise on her wrist.

“Oh, that! Well, like I said, I had a pretty bad tumble on the bike.”

“You have another one forming on your face. Luffy points out.”

“Yeah… I must have been really unlucky; I fell on my face when I fell.”

Sabo narrowed his eyes at her; after so many cases and long days at the court, he had grown excellent at deciphering body language; it became second nature for him to spot mannerisms that hinted towards the person’s insincerity or anxiousness.

Mannerism, such as constantly shifting their eyes between different people in the room, the way they begin to scratch at their nose more often than usual, playing with their hair to try to ease the anxiety or the slight tilt they did towards the door, an escape route if they were discovered; all of these he could easily spot in his sister.

Luffy glanced at the bruises, experience of running in and out of burning buildings, and helping people in hazardous and unfortunate situations; he had seen all types of injuries and had become used to them, become used to identifying their origin

Scrapes and open skin from high-speed accidents, abrasions on the skin from hazardous materials being misused or leaked, and even bruises and injuries from civil unrest situations. He had enough experience to be able to tell injuries from a bike stumble to man-made injuries.

Ace glanced at her sister; because of his job, he was obligated to be certified in specific areas, mandatory reporting being one of them.

Because he spent all day with the children, he had to be able to spot any abusive indicators, inconsistencies in their stories, malnutrition, the children’s reaction to their parents, and weird marks on their bodies. Although he had been trained on how to apply this with his first-grade students, the same principle could be applied to any person of any age that presented these indicators, indicators that he could clear as day see on his sister

The brothers glance at each other, and ever the one to take the lead, Luffy is the first one to speak up

“Shishi, really? Do you need any help bandaging the scrapes?” he offers

“Scrapes? I don’t have any scrapes, Luffy”

“Hah? That’s weird; when people fall off their bikes they usually have lots of scapes; you don’t have any, just some pretty bad bruises,” he points out

“W-Well I-

“People who have been in biking accidents, or just falling in general, usually have lots of injuries in their hands, seeing as it is our instinct to protect our face and to slow our fall., you however, have none of those weird..” Continued Sabo

"W-Well, I have no self-preser-

“It’s weird despite having so much paperwork to do and being outed by one of your co-workers, these lesson plans are all completed, and there are footnotes all around from your co-workers seems they really liked your ideas and need you to help them implement them on their own classroom, wonder what kind of person would ask advice from someone they think is doing their job wrong” Ace comments picking up the various papers littered on her desk

“H-Hey don’t tou-

“You aren’t going to lie again, right?” Ace cuts in

“Because I mean, you really suck at it,” Luffy adds

“Do we wanna try another round of you telling a convincing story?” Ace adds, glancing at her

“I -I…” she tries to find the right words but hangs her head after failing to do so

“That’s unfair; you guys are teaming up and using your jobs against me.”

“It’s not fair? Not fair for who?” Sabo raises a brow.

“We are just calling you out on your bullshit, which is pretty nice of us,” Ace comments in a deadpan voice

“Usually, with everyone in the law, we would tear you to shreds until you said the truth. You should be thankful for being so lucky that we’re your brothers,” Sabo adds

“Can I do anything to make you guys drop this?”

“Nope,” Luffy said without hesitation

She groans, throwing herself in her pillow head-first

Ace sighed, joining his siblings on the bed and easily picking his sister up, sitting in her place, placing her on his lap, and hugging her

“Please let us help you; we promise we will deal with anything you may be going through.”

“Nothing wrong,” she says quietly

“N-nothing’s wrong,” she repeats, a slight crack in her voice as tears start pooling in her eyes

“Nothing…Nothing is wrong,” she says as she begins sobbing, gripping his brother's clothes tightly as she cried into him, the same way she did when they were children

The brothers all stayed still; Ace stroked her hair comfortingly and patted her back as she broke down in tears. Despite them all being grown up and having seen their share of violence and trauma, this still made the brothers' hearts bleed, seeing their youngest sibling hurt.

Luffy pulled her into a hug, his rubber arms embracing her tightly, letting her sob into his arms while Sabo patted her back in support.

"Hey now, it's okay; you can tell us the truth now; we aren't gonna be mad."

“I can’t; I can’t. “

"You can, we promise, we are all adults; we aren’t gonna lash out at you for telling us the truth," Sabo said firmly

"No matter what you say, or what has happened, we will always be here for you" Ace reassures her

“No, He said he would hurt you,” she cries

The brothers all freeze at her words; their smiles falter, and their faces all drop, their hearts all break.

Luffy pushes out slightly from their embrace, grabbing her hands and looking her in the eyes

“Reader. Tell us who did this, no matter who it is, we’ll kick his ass! We won’t be done in by some idiot; you’re always there for us, so let us carry your burden this time!” Luffy exclaims

“I don’t want you guys to get hurt; I couldn’t live with myself if my brothers got hurt because of me,”

“Don’t be an idiot!” luffy screams at her, shaking her, ignoring his brothers' protests

“We’re already hurt from seeing you get hurt and not being able to do anything! It hurts more seeing you get hurt!”

Her eyes widen at his words as her sobs become more frantic

Ace quickly pulls his little sister from Luffy before pulling her into a big bear hug and kissing her forehead affectionately

“We’ll be fine, just please tell us who it was; we promise we’ll handle this; as your big brothers, it’s our responsibility to protect you, and to do that, we have to know who did this to you,” his voice was tender and kind. All the fire that was in him earlier has dimmed and was taken over by nothing but brotherly concern.

“E-E-Enel,” she sobs out

Ace is the first to react, turning his sister toward him

“Enel? The asshole who kept harassing you back at the host club? I thought we left him behind when we left that job?”

“After we got our jobs in Newgate School, he managed to find my contact,” she cries

“He said if I stopped seeing him, he would go after you guys. He said he would destroy your careers and your lives, and then he would go after my kids.”

Ace sighs, flickering her forehead

“You’re an idiot.”

She squeaks, holding her forehead in pain

“W-What?”

Ace chuckles softly

“I’m calling you an idiot, did you forget? Sabo is the best attorney in GrandLine, Luffy is a firefighter with friends in all the offices, including the police, and you know our principal, Edward, is a family man, but he is powerful; he would not stand still if he heard this, especially not to one of his employees being under threat and definitely not when the kids are under threat.”

Luffy nods in agreement.

“We are pretty much the worst people a guy could try to mess with; you do realize that, right?”

“I know that, I know the chances were slim, but I wasn’t going to take any chances, not with you guys on the line.”

“So, instead, you decided to put yourself on the line?” Luffy asks

“Is your health not worth even a chance to protect us? Was that your reasoning sister? I thought you’d trust us more,” Ace adds

“You are aware of how idiotic that is, right?” Sabo chimes in

“We have dealt with worse; you weren’t just playing with our lives, but with your own as well; you really think letting some dickwad play you with would be better than taking a chance of us handling him??” The freckled man exclaims

“Also, did you think for a second we wouldn’t find out? And that we wouldn’t get worried?” Ace adds

“I was hoping I would be good at hiding it…

“You know damn well you have always been lousy at hiding stuff,” Sabo comments sharply, but then his tone softens a bit

“But you should have just told us the truth, no matter how dangerous you thought it would be.”

Luffy nods.

“You didn’t need to carry this burden alone; we could have helped you.”

“I’m sorry “

“Just don’t do it again, okay?” Sabo replies as he pulls her into a big hug; Ace and Luffy join him in the hug, the three brothers letting their sister hug them for long, not letting go of their sister, Ace kissing her forehead

“We’re just worried about you; we don’t care if it’s dangerous; we love you,” Ace reassures her

“Now let me see it,” he said, gesturing for her hand

She hesitates for a moment, not wanting to give her hand to Ace; she turns towards the other brothers with pleading eyes, but they all nod for her to show the bruise, so she finally does, holding her sleeve back, and puts her hand over Ace’s, the bruise covered a large part of her arm up to just below the elbow with some bruises and marks on various parts of her arm, some older, others fresh

Ace glances up

“Sabo, how good of an attorney are you?” he says, a dangerous undertone in his words

“Ace! You are not killing him!” Reader hisses

Ace doesn’t react to her words; instead he speaks calmly and cooly

“No one said anything about killing; I was thinking more of a severe beating” he chuckles before grinning wickedly

“Let’s kick his ass” agrees Luffy

“Sabo, you’re an attorney; please talk some sense into them before they get into trouble with the law.”

Sabo looks from his brothers to her; he doesn’t seem particularly against the idea of hurting Enel; in fact, his eyes are glinting with delight at the idea

“We’re not breaking any laws; after all, it was self-defense. We saw him attacking you, and we stepped in using reasonable force to protect you and ourselves.”

“Isn’t that right, guys? we only had to use force after he came at us.”

“Sabo! You are not lying in court!” She pleads

“Who said anything about lying? All three of us are witnesses; it’s not lying if it’s the truth!” Ace says not breaking eye contact with his sister

“It’s not lying; we all reported the same story and told nothing but the truth.” Sabo nods excitedly

“Yeah!!” Luffy agrees with a nod; they all seemed to be one and the same when it came to taking care of someone who hurts someone as important as their sister

“Guys, please, think about this,” she says, turning to look at all of them

“Sabo, come on, there’s no way a judge would buy three brothers having to all launch at a guy just for self-defense!”

“Oh, but there was even an officer at the scene who witnessed it; he had to help us get the guy off you; the guy was just ruthless; we had no option but to all step in,” Sabo exclaimed, continuing his made-up scenario

“Zoro would be more than happy to join if he hears what the guy did” Luffy grins

She sighs, looking at her brothers, tears welling in her eyes

“You guys are unbelievable,” a teary laugh leaving her

“No one is getting away with hurting our family; come here!” Ace says, grinning and pulling her in for a noogie, his smile widening at her small shriek,

“You ass! What happened to protecting your little sister? That hurts!”

"You use that language in your classroom?! It's just a noogie!" he said with a grin, glad that even for just a few minutes, she could just relax with them, forgetting about Enel and the damage he had caused.

"it does not hurt!"

"Besides, you deserved it for not being honest with us; you're not getting away with keeping things from us," Sabo laughs

“You treat your kids this way?!” She retaliates

“No, I treat my students with kindness and patience, but you’re my lil sis, so I have to mess with you a little,” he teases

“And you totally deserve what you’re getting.”

She scoffs

“Patience and kindness”

“You heard me, only kindness and patience, but you’re not a first grader like they are, so you get a little extra care since you’re older and know more than they do,” he said, his movement getting faster

“Not to mention, we can’t put little Tama in a headlock as a form of discipline,” he adds

“I’m telling Tama his beloved teacher will give her a noogie!

“You wouldn’t!” Ace laughs

“Tama would never believe it! She loves me!”

“Im also telling your squad you let innocent civilians be tormented, Luffy!” She said escaping from the headlock and running out of her room

“Oh, don’t even think about it, Shishishi!” Luffy grabs her hand, stopping her on her tracks

“You guys keep using your jobs against me! Unreasonable force, I say!”

Luffy simply laughs

“You should have joined me when I called you to train with my squad!”

“You wanna talk about unreasonable force? Well, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, sis?” Ace replies, grabbing her as Luffy tosses her back in the bed and wraps her in another headlock

Sabo shrugs as he watches, not even going to attempt to break this particular situation up

“Not my fault! I need to use more force; otherwise, it won't get through your numbskulls!” She screams, laughing joyously, the pain and suffering from her situation forgotten momentarily

“And Sabo! How could you! A man on law watching these two brutes commit battery!”

“Hey, a little headlock is hardly anything; we’ve done far worse.” Sabo chuckles

“A man of the law would know all the technicalities of self-defense,” he points out,

“And you’d be surprised by how much I can witness without being called to court; a few weeks ago, I was watching a student in a bar brawl, and he didn’t even get arrested, just a fine, so don’t be too worried about me, I won’t tell.”

She gasps mockingly

Luffy and Ace both chuckle

“We should have expected you’d put up the least fight, Shishi” Luffy chuckles

“You’ve always been the least physical of the three; you are so easy to tease,” Ace adds

Sabo chuckles, though he didn’t join their ganging up on their little sister

After finally being free from their teasing, she smiled at them

“Thank you”

The brothers all smile back at her

Ace squeezes her hand

“We’re just relieved that you’ll let us help you now.”

Luffy nods

“Don’t worry, we will kick Enel’s ass!”

“You didn't think I would let it slide, did you, little sister? The way I see it is that Enel picked a fight with you, which in turn means he picked a fight with all of us; I won’t let someone threaten my family without paying the consequences.”

I was honestly worried that this would just keep a grim tone all throughout it, but I managed to clutch at the end because the brothers wouldn’t just let her sister stay upset before they dealt with this asshole, and honestly, neither would I. I really struggle with Luffy being OC here, but I look back at all his speeches and serious moments and I think this is pretty spot on, if anything mellowed out

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

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imtryingbuck · 9 months

Text

Birthday Non-Celebration

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Summary: reader doesn’t celebrate her birthday and Steve and the team makes it special for her

Word count: 1146

Warnings: swearing, mention of adoption - is that a warning? It is now. Steve being the cutest.

A/N: So it was my birthday yesterday and ngl it was pretty crappy so I wrote this to cheer my self up. I truly apologise in advance that it is rushed and shit. But have fun reading anyways🤍

Masterlist

Growing up, birthdays were Y/N's favourite day, especially if it was hers. The presents, the balloons, and the attention that was aimed at her somewhere down the line, she grew to dislike them.

Though she disliked hers, she loved celebrating others. Stressing herself out about presents—worrying if she had gotten enough for the person—worrying over whether the birthday person was going to like said presents.

Even with the stress and her bank account nearing empty, she loved seeing her friends reactions to her very poorly wrapped presents, and seeing their reactions to the presents made her happy.

~~~

Every year, without fail, she managed to get out of giving her birth date. The team would ask, but she would just tell them that it had already been and gone. And every year without fail, she would feel a tinge of sadness when they looked disappointed—not with her but with themselves, and that’s why it made her sad.

Y/N was working tirelessly to get the perfect present for Steve. She told herself that the presents needed to be absolutely perfect for him, as this was the first birthday of his they were celebrating as a couple.

“I-I doll this." Steve's eyes hadn’t moved away from the main gift she had gotten him.

“Do you like it? I can take it bac-" The nerves had gotten the better of her so much that she was rushing her words before he cut her off.

“No. No way are you taking this back! I’ll fight you if you try to take it away from me! Baby, I love it." Jumping in front of the gift to protect it from being taken away, Steve couldn’t believe that she even thought he wouldn’t like it, and hearing how upset she sounded broke his heart.

The gift was a drawing table with a side station, draws, shelves, and stationary holders. She had even brought him more papers, pencils, paint, and a few new brushes. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she gave him the okay to finally look; he honestly wasn’t expecting it but loved it as soon as his eyes laid on it.

“It’s even got a chair—look." Her tone was much happier now that she knew he loved it.

“I love you, Y/N. Thank you so much for this.”

~~~

Steve made it his personal mission to find out his girl's birthday; in the 5 years he’s known her, he hasn’t had the opportunity to spoil her. They’ve been dating now for 2 years, and yet he still hasn’t been able to make her day special the same way she’s made his.

“I’ve got it”. Nat breezed up to him when he was standing in the kitchen.

“How?”

“I can’t give my secrets away, Stevo”.

“Don’t call me that”. She had to shout as she all but ran out of the room.

Finally seeing the date of his girlfriend's birthday, he smiled. I smiled at the sight of the date, as it was only 2 weeks away.

~~~

Like a creep, he pulled all the members of the team—minus Y/N—into a storage room.

"Umm, Stevie, why are we all in this tiny ass room?"

“Give me a second, Buck.”

“It is a tad cramped. I’m practically holding a tin man’s hand.” Sam spoke up next to Bucky.

“There’s nothing practically about it. You are”.

“You two just need to kiss for everyone’s sake,” Wanda snickered.

Before Bucky could even get his snarky comment out, which was no doubt on the tip of his tongue, Steve interrupted, “Shut up, a lot of you. Now, Nat managed to get Y/N's date of birth, and it’s in 2 weeks. So we have 2 weeks to get this perfect!”

30 minutes later, they all had their parts in making her birthday special. Despite the plans being in motion, Steve was still wondering why she didn’t celebrate them. So off he went to find her.

Finding her in their shared bedroom, reading the book that had her hooked for the past few days, he leans against the doorway, admiring her until-

“Jesus Christ, Steve! I nearly had a heart attack!"

“I'm sorry, baby," he said, chuckling as he moved closer towards her. "Sooo, what are you doing?”

“Doing cartwheels, obviously.”

“If being an Avenger doesn’t work out for you, you should go into comedy.”

“Would you still love me?”

“Of course, my love”. Leaning over to place his lips gently on hers, he shares a short kiss. “I was wondering something about you.”

"Oh, do tell.”

“Why don’t you celebrate your birthday?”

Watching her shrink into herself, he felt bad for asking, “I just don't.”

“But why, baby? There’s got to be a reason.”

“I don’t know, really. Okay well I do so you can’t put that eyebrow down, mister. It’s a stupid reason, really. My parents put me up for adoption on my 10th birthday, and the home I went to didn’t care for birthdays. I would wish myself a happy birthday for a few years, but then just gave up” Moving further up the bed “My birthday became meaningless, so therefore I don’t celebrate it”.

"Ba-baby, I had no idea. I’m so sorry”.

“No need to apologise, babe. Honestly, it’s fine”.

“Why did you never tell me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Stevie. It’s been a long time since I was at that home, so” She shrugged it off.

Shortly after, Y/N fell asleep, with Steve combing his fingers through her soft hair.

~~~

It was the day of her birthday, and she was completely oblivious to what was occurring around her. Walking into the common room, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Eyes were bouncing all around the room at the sight in front of her. Close to a hundred balloons floating around, ‘happy birthday’ banners hanging up neatly, a whole range of different-coloured flowers all around the room, and presents? Presents piled up high on the tables. Her boyfriend and friends were standing there with huge smiles on their beautiful faces.

“W-w… What is all this?”

“It’s your birthday, baby," Steve says, moving closer to her. “For the past 5 years, you have made our birthdays special, making each and every one of us feel loved," he said, taking her hands into his warm ones, “and we’re now finally able to celebrate the day you came into this world.”

Gently pulling her further into the room, “There’s one present for every year you didn’t get one, and these ones,” pointing over to a different pile, “are for your birthday today.”

The tears poured out of her eyes. Unable to speak, she gripped on to Steve and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. After releasing him, she moved onto the others.

“Thank you guys; you honestly didn’t need to do this, but I’m very grateful. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank us, sweetheart; now open these presents!"

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

173 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

The Less I Know The Better II (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, eventual loss of virginity, mild unhealthy relationship, one sided kiara x jj, non canon ages, pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: When you start dating Rafe Cameron, no one is more surprised than you when your best friend JJ takes it really well. However, no one is more surprised than JJ when he’s forced to see his once frumpy BFF in an entirely new light, suddenly terrified of losing what he never knew he had to the person he hates most.

JJ tossed the ball at the side of John B.’s house, catching and repeating while John B. and Pope talked to each other. There was a slight frown on his face as he stared at the wood, seemingly distracted as his arm went through the motions. There was a faint noise he was registering in the back of his mind, but it didn’t click at first that his name was being called.

“Uh…what?” he said, blinking and turning towards his friends.

Pope had an expectant look on his face while John B. had a frown of his own.

“What do you think…?” the brunette asked, and JJ opened and closed his mouth.

“About what?”

They looked at each other, chuckling to themselves, almost nervously.

“Did you hear anything we said? The party? Rafe?”

JJ swiped his tongue along his lip at the mention of the other blond, swallowing down the hatred that threatened to bubble up. If Rafe dropped dead, right now, he’d be the first to celebrate, and JJ had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He reminded himself that Rafe was with you, now, that you…cared about the asshole.

He ignored the way his stomach twisted at that.

“You wanna throw a party…and have Rafe come?” he put two and two together, and Pope shrugged.

“I think Y/N would like it,” he said. “Show her that we’re making an effort.”

JJ didn’t say anything to that, tossing the ball at the ground and catching it when it bounced back up.

“…and what makes you think he’ll come? Come on, Kook king slumming it on the Cut with Pogues?” he scoffed.

“You forget he’s dating one, so I don’t think it’s that far-fetched.”

JJ rolled his eyes at John B.’s words, thinking to himself that no. He unfortunately did not forget that Rafe was dating you. It was all he’d really been able to think about for weeks. Excluding his dad, Rafe was without a doubt the worst guy he knew. They’d drawn blood on each other more than a few times, you being present most of those times, so he didn’t get it.

He didn’t get it when you’d first told him, sure it was some sick joke. He didn’t get it when you admitted to sneaking around with him for weeks, happily. He didn’t get it when you’d been pleading with him to accept this, to put his crappy past with Rafe behind him and be okay with this so you could be happy. He didn’t even get it when you told him how nice Rafe had been to you, courting you and making you swoon like something out of a gag worthy romance book Kie’s mom would read sometimes.

He just didn’t get it.

“What does she see in him?” he finally asked, and Pope and John B. shared a look like they’d been waiting on this.

“You promised you’d be nice,” his best friend reminded him.

“I am,” he argued, throwing his hands up. “I can’t question what she could possibly see in Rafe motherfucking Cameron?”

“He’s tall,” Pope said.

“…and rich,” the other commented.

“…but this is Y/N,” he reminded them. “She’s not shallow. Never has been.”

Pope nodded in agreement.

“She doesn’t care about his looks or his money. She likes him for his personality,” he sneered at the thought.

“She said he treats her well,” John B. said, popping open the soda he’d been holding for minutes. “…and he has been…decent for a while now.”

JJ wasn’t listening to that, taking a few steps as he looked out towards the water.

“…and what does he want with her?”

They both gave him a look when he glanced over, and JJ shook his head.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have a right to be suspicious. She’s a Pogue, and he hates Pogues! The only time he’d be caught dead on our side of the island is when he’s buying some more booger sugar, and all of a sudden, he’s following her around and fixing her house and buying her shit?”

“Y/N’s sweet,” Pope told him with a shrug.

“…and pretty.”

JJ paused, frowning at John B.

“Well, she is,” his best friend doubled down, hands raised.

“Since when do you think she’s pretty?”

“You don’t?” Pope wondered, an almost disbelieving frown on his face.

“You do?”

“No, it’s not like I sit around fantasizing about her, but she’s a pretty girl,” Pope continued. “I think we all were a little awkward looking in high school, but…she’s grown into her features. Well.”

JJ could tell that Pope was trying to be respectful, and he suspected it had something to do with the look he was currently giving him. His mouth opened and closed, a little disturbed by the fact that both of his best friends had clearly thought about you in that way once or twice. Sure, they’d all had a thing for Kie at some point, but you were like a sister to him, and he guess he’d just assumed it was the same way for them too.

Apparently not.

“Well…why is this the first time I’m hearing of it?” he asked, an edge in his voice that he didn’t mean to be there.

They shared another look.

“Everyone knows how you can get about her,” John B. slowly answered. “You get really overprotective and a little intimidating.”

“I mean, why do you think Rafe is her first boyfriend?”

JJ shrugged at Pope, and the other boy heaved a sigh.

“…because he’s like the only guy on this island who isn’t afraid to punch you in the face.”

Pope’s words had him scoffing. JJ looked away, deep in thought as the meaning behind his words seemed to hit him. He spun around to look at them both with wide eyes.

“What are you saying? Are you saying that I…? That Y/N’s never dated because of me?”

Their silence made JJ swallow, and he was just about to argue when Pope spoke again.

“No! Not…really…”

“Not really?”

“Look,” John B. hurried towards him, a hand on his shoulder. “Guys can be assholes. Especially teenage ones, right? We know why you’re so hellbent on looking out for her.”

JJ looked down, jaw clenching at the thought of how mistreated you would be by guys who thought they were comedians. He’d never admit it to you, but he was all too happy to break their noses for making you cry.

“…but things are different now. Guys don’t want to ask her out for shits and giggles anymore. They really want to date her, now, and with you constantly over her shoulder like some shadow in shining armor,” he quietly trailed off.

“You end up with guys like Rafe Cameron asking her out,” Pope finished.

JJ was tempted to argue against everything they were saying, but he kept his mouth shut. They didn’t get what it was like to watch you cry your eyes out after being humiliated by some idiot. Sure, he could punch them in the face until their teeth fell out, but it never did much to make you feel better. It’s not like it stopped you from feeling hurt and embarrassed, or made you stop crying, or made you get over what they’d done.

You needed him.

You always had, and the rare times he tried to just let you handle things yourself like you wanted, it never ended well. JJ shuddered to think of what you would do without him, so if he was overprotective and intimidating to any guy who even halfway looked at you, he had his reasons why. The thought that there were guys who wanted to ask you out didn’t make him feel the best, a paranoia in him that they only wanted to hurt you.

…and Rafe was no different.

Rafe was the worst.

You both had seen him at his worse, pupils blown and strung out on coke as he tried to fight the first guy who looked at him wrong. You both saw the way he talked to Sarah, the looks he’d give him, hell. JJ recalled a time where he’d mockingly told him to ‘tell Y/N she looks pretty hot for a Pogue’. At the time, JJ thought he’d just been his usual asshole self, happily tackling him to the ground for it. However, looking back, he grimaced to think that there’d been some truth in what Rafe had said.

To put it plainly, Rafe wasn’t good enough for you.

They all knew it, and he was torn between wanting this to end badly or hoping that Rafe would do right by you just so you wouldn’t get hurt. He didn’t think he’d ever like Rafe, positive he’d hate the guy to the end of his days. Every time he remembered that you were dating him, now, his stomach churned. However, in that moment, he had to remind himself of the worry in your eyes when you thought JJ wouldn’t accept this. He thought about the tears in your eyes when you talked about how bad you’d felt.

He thought about the way they lit up when he said he’d try to be happy for you.

JJ may have hated Rafe…but he loved you more, and with that, he agreed to John B. and Pope’s stupid party.

It was weird.

JJ knew it would be, but he just didn’t realize how much. A party down on The Cut wasn’t some rare occurrence, but a party with a Kook present? Unheard of. Sarah didn’t count anymore, she hadn’t counted for ages, so no one gave her a second glance. Rafe, on the other hand? He stood out like a sore thumb…and for more reasons than one.

Some girl had been talking to JJ for several minutes now, and he’d been half listening, he’d admit. He was torn between wanting to give her all of his attention and closely watching Rafe…and you. He’d been doing that since the moment you arrived, and he didn’t really care to hide it. Everyone knew how much he looked out for you, and now that you were dating the worst Kook of all…

When Rafe had shown up, JJ hadn’t even recognized you by his side.

He’d never seen that bathing suit top before, and the long skirt was new too. He couldn’t ignore the way it hugged you, and he thought to himself that Rafe was already dressing you up like some trophy girlfriend. He had grimaced, a sour taste in his mouth as he heard Sarah compliment you. In true fashion, Rafe barely acknowledged his sister, and to be honest, no one expected their relationship to change much anyway.

The entire time that you’d been here, you hadn’t left Rafe’s side once, and that made him frown. Why were you so attached to him already? Or was it Rafe who wasn’t letting you go? He tried to tell himself not to think the worst, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that Sarah and John B. could be the same way sometimes. They could be so cute it was almost nauseating to watch, but for some reason, it didn’t look as cute on you and Rafe.

It looked fucking disgusting.

“Are you even listening to me?”

The girl before him pulled JJ from his thoughts, and he blinked.

“What?”

She settled for rolling her eyes, turning away from him without a backwards glance. Any other day, and he would’ve tried to rectify that loss, but he didn’t care tonight. He turned back to you only to find Rafe alone…and you nowhere to be found. Funnily enough, Rafe was looking in his direction, and it was seconds later when JJ realized why.

“Hey!”

He looked to his left with a slight flinch, startled by you. Up close, he could see the gold shimmer on your cheeks. He remembered Kie referring to it as highlight once, and as you talked to him, he studied the glossy glow of your lips.

“Um, Pope told me that the party was your idea,” you said, shocking him.

JJ didn’t let it show, only raising his eyebrows.

“He did?”

You nodded, your smile wide.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

JJ’s chest ached, and he felt shitty for so many reasons. Namely because he’d been against the party that wasn’t even his idea, and here you were, looking at him like the best friend in the whole world when that wasn’t the truth.

“I don’t expect you guys to become BFFs or start riding around on your bikes together, but I’m just happy that you’re trying.”

JJ looked into his cup, nodding.

“It means a lot to me.”

JJ exhaled, looking up to meet your gaze again.

“You’re welcome,” he eventually whispered, opening his arms as you moved to hug him.

He hugged you back, holding you close. It was moments like this that made it easy for him to remember why he was trying in the first place. You were probably the most important thing in his life, and he loved how much you glowed, right now, but he hated that it was because of Rafe. JJ buried his face into your hair, breathing you in, and he froze at the smell of an unfamiliar cologne. It smelled expensive, like something Rafe would drown himself in, and with that though, JJ looked up.

On the other side of the beach, his own blue eyes met eerily similar ones. Rafe was nursing a drink, red cup pressed to his lips as he watched you and JJ hug. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy or animosity there, Rafe feeling completely secure, and it was only when you pulled away did JJ realize why. You had turned to Rafe almost immediately, and as you slipped from JJ’s hold, he reluctantly acknowledged that you only had eyes for the blond Kook.

The Kook in question knew this, pulling you against him with a smile once you reached him, and JJ turned away, downing the rest of his drink.

“I have to admit…they are cute together,” Pope slowly noted about an hour later.

“Whose side are you on?” Kie joked before shaking her head. “No, but he’s right. I was really skeptical, at first, but Rafe is…shockingly sweet with her.”

She shuddered, and Sarah laughed.

“Isn’t he? I kind of like it,” she grinned. “I’m going to have so much fun teasing him.”

As they sat together and talked about how much they loved the relationship that must not be named, JJ only wanted to stick his head in that ocean. All night, you and Rafe had been attached at the hip. Drinking together, laughing together…dancing together. His skin stretched over his knuckles as he thought about the way you had clung to the blond, his hands on your lower back as he held you to him, his lips at your ear as he said something JJ wasn’t privy to but made you laugh all the same.

Would a day come where JJ would finally see Rafe as your boyfriend and not the guy he’d genuinely thought about killing?

Maybe not.

As they gabbed about you two, JJ looked around, noting your absence. He frowned at that, noticing how much the party was still going on and worrying that you’d left early. JJ knew you wouldn’t leave early, especially not a party he’d thrown for you and especially without saying goodbye. With the rest of the Pogues distracted, JJ pulled himself to his feet.

If they noticed him leaving, they didn’t say anything, probably thinking nothing of it. JJ weaved his way through the bodies, eyes searching for you, but you were nowhere to be found. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the way his heart was beating so fast in his chest, but he was growing lightheaded, pausing to calm down and reassure himself that you were fine. You were with Rafe, after all…

But that wasn’t a comforting thought.

The further he walked, the quieter the party became, and he realized that he was walking away. He was nearing where people had parked their cars and bikes and skateboards. He had long tossed his drink somewhere, sure Kie would scold him for that if she’d seen, but he didn’t care. He had this intense desire to find you, and he didn’t know why. Just when he was about to angrily accept that Rafe had convinced you to ditch them, he heard your laugh.

JJ turned, eyes landing on you, and he felt his chest ease…only to tighten again.

It seemed that you had ripped your skirt somehow, Rafe kneeling before you as he tried to find a way to fix it. You were leaning against his truck, smiling down at him as he attempted to tie a knot in the skirt where the rip was. It was much quieter out here, so your voices carried.

“I feel like this was your plan,” you teased. “Accidentally…”

You did air quotes.

“…rip my skirt and convince me to take it off.”

Rafe exhaled, looking up at you as he pressed his teeth into his lip.

“If I wanted to get you out of your skirt, I wouldn’t need some half-assed plan to do it,” he purred.

You giggled when the blond leaned in and pressed a kiss to your thigh, securing the knot before standing. JJ watched as he said something to you, too quiet for him to hear, but whatever it was made you lean in and kiss him, pressing yourself against Rafe in the same way countless girls had done to him. The kiss was heated, and the ocean breeze carried the sound of your soft moan to his ears, distaste settling in the back of JJ’s throat at the sound of it.

JJ felt like he was intruding on something, something he had no business seeing, and with reluctance, he turned away and rejoined the party.

JJ handed you the Tylenol, watching you eagerly pop them in your mouth before drowning them with water. He had suspected you’d be hungover, but he hadn’t expected you to still be in the bed at 1 pm. He was happy that you’d at least had the sense of mind to shower and undress, and that’s what he told you.

“Mm, mm,” you hummed with a shake of your head, rubbing your eyes. “Thank Rafe. I could barely stand when I got home.”

JJ pressed his lips together at that.

“Right. I’m glad you enjoyed the party,” he said, quickly changing the subject as he leaned against your wall.

“I’m glad you threw it,” you told him. “I know I said it, last night, but I really am so thankful. Rafe and I had a great time.”

JJ didn’t respond to that, feeling his blood pressure literally rise with every mention of the Kook. He had gone to bed last night with both of you on the brain, recalling how casual Rafe had been with you, how comfortable you were around each other. He remembered how easily you’d kissed him, throwing yourself at him like it was the most natural thing in the world for you, and he had a hard time reconciling Rafe’s girlfriend with his best friend. He almost felt like you were two different people.

Even now, as he watched you pull yourself out of bed to get ready to leave with him, he only saw his best friend. He saw the girl who hated all bathing suits at one point, even one pieces. He saw the girl who had tripped over a tree root and ended up with a bloody nose, fighting not to cry while JJ had been the one to clean you up. He saw the girl who fell off of his bike, scraping her knee.

He had the hardest time accepting that you were Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. Even though he’d seen it, he couldn’t imagine you kissing him like so many other girls had kissed JJ. He couldn’t imagine Rafe’s hands on you, playful and searching in the same way he felt up girls he made out with. That heated desperation JJ would feel when he was with a girl, the desire to touch her and hear her? Her eagerness to get closer to him in every way possible?

Thinking of you and the guy he hated most like that made him look away, hurrying out of your room to wait for you in the living room.

When you eventually came out, you were none the wiser to his thoughts, grinning at him as you practically hopped towards him. It was a little cooler than normal today, and JJ’s gaze lingered on your exposed skin, brows knitting together as he just told himself he was worried.

“Here,” he started, taking off his jacket. “It’s-.”

“I got one,” you interrupted, snatching up a jacket from the couch that he hadn’t noticed.

As he followed you outside, he studied the jacket as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. It was unfamiliar and grey…and definitely not yours. JJ didn’t need to be a genius to note that it was Rafe’s and wondered how long it had been there.

Or had he left it last night?

As you wrapped your arms around JJ’s waist, making yourself comfortable on the back of his bike, he wondered if Rafe had stayed the night and left early in the morning. It wasn’t any of his business though, so he forced himself to forget about it. You were quick to hop off his bike and run to Kie when you arrived at The Chateau.

Pope was chilling by the hot tub, and he guessed that John B. and Sarah were inside. JJ watched you, taking note of the wide grin and sparkly eyes and giggling demeanor. He just knew that you were talking about Rafe, and he forced himself to look away.

“Did you know that there are 26 grams of sugar in this?”

Pope was intensely studying some drink he’d bought, and when JJ didn’t reply, he felt Pope’s gaze on him. He blinked, his own gaze refocusing just as Pope spoke again.

“What’s wrong with you?”

JJ shoved his hands into his pocket, shaking his head, blond strands shaking with it.

“Nothing…”

Pope looked like he didn’t believe him, and JJ was sure he was about to say something when Sarah and John B. came striding out, joining the rest, and JJ took the opportunity to step back. He could feel himself retreating in on himself, uncharacteristically quiet as his friends talked around him, and as much as he fought it, his gaze found it’s way back to you.

You were sitting next to Kie, both of you talking and smiling, but he wasn’t focused on that.

JJ was looking at the grey jacket on your shoulders, watching the way you interacted with it. You pulled the sleeves of it over your hands, fisting the fabric and pulling it tight around you. Your lashes fluttered, and you paused for a bit before bringing the sleeves up to your face, briefly closing your eyes.

JJ looked away, again, feeling like he was intruding on something.

“It was nice and all, but I don’t think we need to make a habit out of forcing me and my brother to mingle in the same circles,” he heard Sarah say. “I barely like living with him.”

JJ watched you throw a small twig at her, a small smile on your lips.

“I second that,” Pope murmured.

“He had fun though,” you quietly said. “Got so drunk that he had to crash at my place.”

JJ’s gaze snapped back to you at that.

“I’m trying to save his liver, you guys, and convincing him to skip out on some random party is a feat in itself. He won’t let me skip one my own friends threw.”

“Once you’ve conquered the alcohol part, can you get him to drop the coke next?” Sarah’s voice was teasing, but everyone knew she was serious.

“I might have to start hiding it,” you loudly whispered.

JJ was the only one who didn’t laugh.

He didn’t really find it funny that your boyfriend drank so much you were worried about his health. Even halfheartedly. There was definitely nothing funny about him being a cokehead, God only knows what problems that would contribute to. JJ wasn’t amused when he thought about you and Rafe kissing, the blond spending the night at your house, you wearing and smelling his jacket. He thought about when he hugged you last night, thought about how your natural earthy and floral scent had been tainted by Rafe’s cologne.

His jaw clenched at the thought.

You were dating Rafe, now, and JJ didn’t think it was anything to smile about.

#dark!jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron #jj maybank #obx fic #outer banks fanfiction

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im-a-hoping-beetch · 6 months

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In all honesty, idk what happened with the fandom recently for it to suddenly shit out a ton of crappy takes in ATLA most especially for Zutara. I often find myself defending Zutara because a lot of its antis say the most racist and sexist stuff against it. I'm not even a Zutara fan! I'm a rareshipper.

Can't just antis simply say they don't like Zutara and move on to enjoying their own ships instead? No more stupid holier art thou morality takes that just backfire on their faces.

If they want discourse, then use canon material NOT HEADCANONS, FANONS, OR FANFICS as "evidence" to back up their takes. Antis that do that makes my head spin in exasperation. Then you point that out they start whining how you hurt their feelibgs and get all offended as a "minority".

Actually, let's focus on that last bit. It's pretty rancid too how sometimes they pretend to be part of the "minority" so they can use it as a shield for themselves when their bad behavior gets called out. In fact, this tactic hurts the actual minorities who have valid concerns about Zutara. They get drowned out by all the insanity toxic shippers say and get lumped in with them.

Well, with the new live-action coming, there has obviously, been a revival, making the fandom way much more active. Which leads to people having more time to pay attention to the show and all its intricacies.

This is where ship wars come into play. And in all honesty, atla’s ship wars have definitely left a legacy in a way I don’t think we’ll have to ever witness. With the creators perpetuous jabs at zutara solidifying antis need to hate on it and the fans, fuelling the whole thing to another level. To this day whenever something avatar related gets announced or released you start to see a revival of a not so dead ship war. And while they (probably, not sure) aren’t as brutal as they used to be, they have took another turn, with this faux-progressivism being used to fear monger zutara shippers as well as casual listeners about the ship’s legitimacy. I recommend @i-d-e-g-a-f ‘s post about it to get more insight.

On my part, if I were to pin point the moment where this faux- progressivism started taking space in a lot of anti-zutara takes, I’d say that the atla renaissance isn’t innocent for this phenomenon happening. You need to understand the context in which atla’s release on Netflix took place in. One where the blm movement took the entire world by storm. Resulting in people not having the reservations they’ve probably had in the past when it came to talking about racial issues. This was followed by the emergence of numerous movements involving similar cases (not identical, tho). As well as media and the people consuming said media being ready to offer commentary on and call out harmful depictions of racial minorities as well as the rethorics they carried.

Suddenly, anyone and everyone could offer their piece of mind on harm being caused to racial minorities. And while good, it also came with its downside.

When you take into account this context, I think it exacerbated the already existing phenomenon of people saying things in order to put on this front of being good and virtuous, yet failing or simply not wanting to realize how these things are perpetuating the very harm they claim they want to undo. You know, people perceiving and claiming zutara to be a colonized-colonizer ship. As well as comparing katara to Pocahontas, when talking about these two. Which, if these people actually cared about progress, they would know how incredibly racist and sexist it is to make that comparison.

When it comes to antis obsession with hating on zutara, I think it stems from a certain insecurity. You gotta understand that unlike any other non-canon ship, zutara could’ve legitimately been canon. It was constantly talked about in the writers room, many of the team members seriously considering it (head writers, voice actors etc..) Hence why, the creators felt the need to throw numerous jabs (ie. the ember island play, (2008) comic-con) at the ship and more specifically, its fans. Since they themselves were insecure. @burst-of-iridescent perfectly explains it in this post.

#zutara #zuko #katara #anti kataang #anti bryke #atla fandom critical #atla #avatar the last airbender

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yourlocaltrashcan657 · 3 months

Text

~| Yandere Erwin Smith x Reader |~

CEO AU

Modern AU

Working for a big company wasn’t as stressing as it seemed. Y/N had the smarts, skills and knowledge for anything really and that’s what made her a great worker. That is of course if she was a proper worker, she had been an intern for so long along with her three friends Armin, Mikasa and Eren.

Even Armin had the smarts and skills just like her but in a massive company, not a lot of people are going to be so impressed or interested in interns. Mikasa could work quite well and completed any tasks set whereas Eren was.. questionable.

Still, being friends from the very start of their lives meant that they wouldn’t have any sort of struggle to stay close to one another. And like any other morning, the 4 friends left their apartment to go to their shitty job.

Walking to the massive building, the group had talked amongst themselves and laughed at a couple of jokes until a Rolls Royce had drove past.

”Damn, look at that car!” Eren exclaimed as it stopped at the traffic light. “Why do all the rich people get such good stuff, and we have to walk to work?”

”Eren calm down. As much as we want a cool car, I guess we just have to wait until we’re rich like that.” Y/N said.

”And how the hell are we supposed to do that when we’re still crappy interns?” Eren asked as he watched the Rolls Royce drive off.

”I don’t know, but I think walking to work for 15 minutes won’t kill you, Eren.” Mikasa muttered.

Reaching the building, the group saw the Rolls Royce at the front of the building. Out came a very wealthy man. He had blonde hair which was neatly combed, blue eyes and was extremely tall. He was basically the more advanced version of Armin.

”Woah.” Eren mumbled as he walked in after the business man, not wanting to tumble or fall over in front of him. Making their way to their offices, Y/N set down her stuff and walked over to the files and began working with Armin.

”That guys looked like you Armin, only a bit different.” Y/N said.

”A bit different.? You must be trying to be nice Y/N, he looks way more different.” Armin chuckled as he began writing information and details.

“It’s alright Armin, you have things that most people don’t. If we’re talking about looks.. you might want a haircut. You look like a girl.” Y/N mumbled.

”Huh?!” Armin exclaimed. Eren and Mikasa soon came after them and began talking to each other, knowing they wouldn’t get in trouble from actual workers.

”Y’know Y/N, you’re really pretty. I don’t know how a guy just hasn’t hit on you yet.” Eren randomly said.

”Eren that was so random!” Y/N laughed out. “And thanks for the compliment.”

”The reason no one’s hit on her is because Mikasa just wouldn’t allow it.” Armin explained.

”Huh?!” Y/N exclaimed as she turned to look at Mikasa in shock.

”Remember Jean? He didn’t get a chance to take you on a date because during her goth phase, Mikasa threatened to perform a ritual to possess him if he did.” Armin said before writing in his journal.

”Jean too?! I thought Reiner was the only one..” Eren mumbled.

”How many guys did you threaten Mikasa?!” Y/N asked as she looked at the quiet girl.

”I don’t remember.. 26?” Mikasa shyly muttered, shocking the trio in front of her. This was the groups average conversation.

”Hey interns.” A worker said, getting the groups attention. “One of you give this important file to the CEO’s assistant.”

”The CEO?!” Eren exclaimed.

”Not you, you’re too loud. Hey, pretty girl, you go do it.” The guy said as he handed her the file. “Don’t mess up, alright?”

”Okay.” Y/N said as she walked off. Pressing the elevator button, Y/N went to the top floor and walked over to the assistants desk.

”Can I help you?” The slightly old lady asked.

”I’ve been told to give this to you, I’m not sure what it is but it was given by someone called Eld.” Y/N said as she handed her the file.

”Thank you. You’re an intern I see. Would you like anything? I have some mints and sweets for you.” The lady said as she pushed forward the bowl. “Here take some, whilst I hand this to the CEO.”

”O-Okay.” Y/N stuttered out as she grabbed herself a mint and popped it into her mouth. The lady walked in to the much bigger office and handed the file before muttering something to her boss.

Glancing at the inside of the office, Y/N met eyes with the same blue ones that she saw not too long ago. That same wealthy looking man was her CEO. Erwin Smith. The assistant quickly rushed back and closed the door behind her and smiled at Y/N.

“Sorry about that. Is there anything else?” The lady asked.

”No that’s it.. thank you for the mint.” Y/N said before leaving and going to the elevator. Reaching her office, Y/N began to work on whatever task she was given and occasionally talked to her friends. Finally, their shifts came to an end and the group had walked out of the building together.

”Hey Eren, you remember that guy that came out of the Rolls Royce?” Y/N asked.

”Yeah. what about him?” Eren asked as he looked at her, curious.

”He’s the CEO of the company.” Y/N said, making the group go shocked. “I had to give that file and when I did I saw him in his office.”

”Did you get to meet him? What was he like?” Armin asked.

”Oh I didn’t get to meet him but I saw him. I think he saw me too..” Y/N mumbled as she thought back to the moment.

Reaching the apartment, Y/N and Mikasa walked into their shared bedroom and got changed into casual clothes before going to the living room where Eren and Armin were sat in. Talking amongst themselves, they soon made themselves food and went for bed.

Erwin Smith. As everyone knew, he stayed later than anyone in the company. He had to think of the company’s future and the general business so of course he had to stay late. Right? Well not this time. After laying eyes on that woman, he just had to get to know her.

Going through the files, he found hers. Y/N L/N, she wasn’t a worker but an intern. Had necessary skills and experience for the workplace and was extremely knowledgeable in academic fields. Looks were amazing. Her (e/c) and (h/c) were exactly what Erwin wanted and with those remarkable features, it amazed him how such a wonderful woman could ever exist.

How to get her close to him without raising suspicion would be tricky. And who was he to judge based on appearance and grades? Surely he had to see her work and her general behaviour towards others. But he knew it would all fall into plan.

“Eren! Get your lazy ass up, we’re going to be late for work!” Y/N said as she pulled the blanket off the sleeping boy.

“Ugghh it’s only an internship.” Eren mumbled before falling of the bed. “Agh!”

They all got ready on time and left the building just in time. The same Rolls Royce was in front of the building and was much earlier than usual. Walking in, Y/N’s stuff had been tampered with. Walking over to Eren, Armin and Mikasa she had seen their stuff hadn’t.

“Why did your stuff get moved?” Armin asked curiously to himself.

“Maybe you got separated from this section since we do talk a bit too much.” Eren suggested.

”But we’re interns. Why would someone do something sill like that to interns?” Y/N asked.

”Hey you. Pretty Girl.” A worker name Gunther called out, Y/N and her friends turned to look at him. “We were told that you have to fill in for CEO’s assistant since she’s not in today.”

”The CEO?! Man, you get so lucky Y/N!” Eren said excitedly. “Its even cooler since we are interns.”

”You think working beside the CEO of one of the biggest companies is exciting?! It’s more like terrifying.” Armin said on behalf of Y/N.

”Y/N, if you need help then just call us on your phone okay? Don’t hesitate for a second, you never know what type of men are out there-“ Mikasa begun to say, trying to protect Y/N.

”I-I’ll be okay! It’s only being an assistant.” Y/N simply said as she made her way to the elevator. As she made her way to the desk, it seemed to have disappeared. What once was a long, dark brown desk had somehow just vanished. Y/N awkwardly stood at where the desk had been until the elevator made a ‘ding’ noise.

Turning around, Y/N saw the same man from yesterday. He had worn a dark blue suit this time and was holding a briefcase. Looking at Y/N, his heart stopped. He had finally looked at this beautiful woman properly. Walking up to Y/N, he towered over her before speaking up.

”You must be Y/N, yes?” Erwin asked.

”Y-yes. I was called to fill for your absent assistant.” Y/N said as she fully faced him. “Where will I be working? Her desk seems to have been moved.”

”Oh yes. Its been moved to my office which is a massive inconvenience. It’ll be fine though, you won’t need to use that silly radio button.” Erwin said as he smiled and opened his office door. “After you.”

Walking in, Y/N saw a grand office. It was spacious, modern and just the very floor would be of much more value than her. Walking over to her desk she sat down at the chair, her hands shaking with nervousness. Opening her work file, she filled in any missing documents that the regular assistant was meant to. The hour went by slowly as the clock had only read out 10:00.

”Y/N, could you be a good little assistant and get me that pen I dropped.” Erwin said looking over his desk to see a pen on the floor.

”Sure..” Y/N mumbled as she got up and bent down to pick it up, making sure to cover her cleavage. Handing it to Erwin, she didn’t see the gloom on his face.

“Could you also make me some coffee? I know the machine is right there but I’m really busy. You understand don’t you?” Erwin asked as he locked his fingers with each other and leaned on his hands as his elbows rested on his desk.

”R-right.” Y/N said as she turned around and walked over to the coffee machine and began making Erwin’s coffee. As Y/N’s head was turned around, Erwin looked up and down at her body. How he wished he could grab her hips and see her face full of lust, her hair luscious and silky, her moans as his massive cock-

“S-sir?” Y/N called out, bringing Erwin back to reality and out of his thoughts. “Would you like sugar with this?”

”No, thank you for asking Y/N.” Erwin said as he looked down at the papers scattered across his desk. How he wished that she was his little housewife, wearing pretty dresses that he bought and picked out, carrying his children. Soon, his plan had to work. He had seen his little darling in person and how much of an angel she was.

”Here you go sir.” Y/N said as she handed him his mug of coffee. “I hope I made it right.”

”Thank you Y/N, im sure it’ll taste wonderful.” Erwin said as his fingers brushed against hers. Feeling her spine shiver, Erwin knew that he’d have to get her used to physical touch as his soon to be fiancée. Taking a sip of the well-made coffee he began to imagine how amazing her cooking must taste, sure this was only a cup of coffee but surely she had to be a great housewife.

Soon the day had ended, Y/N was quick to say goodbye and leave to go home with her friends. Erwin, as usual stayed late, and worked on the files and whatever else he had.

“Y/N, what did you do over there?” Eren asked whilst lying back down in the couch in his pants and sweatshirt.

“Nothing to be honest. all I did was make coffee and write in files that the old assistant had to write in.” Y/N said as she plopped down on a sofa beside the window.

”You didn’t see any suspicious or weird behaviour right?” Mikasa asked.

”No no. It’s alright Mikasa, besides this internship is almost ending and we are almost done with university.” Y/N said as she sipped on her juice.

”As long as you are alright we are happy.” Armin said before reading his book.

“Thanks Armin.” Y/N mumbled as she smiled happily at him.

“You’ll be working as my assistant from now on Y/N. Of course, the pay will be rewarding if you do your job right. You’ll earn £96,276 every year which will be £8023 every month, if you need more you’ll have to work hard for it. Just sign at the bottom of the contract when you’re ready.” Erwin rambled as he leaned over the desk a bit and smirked at Y/N, pushing the contract forward.

Sat still in her tiny, uncomfortable chair, Y/N looked at the contract in shock. Just two days ago she was a stranger to him and now she was being granted a position in a n extremely successful company as the CEO’s assistant.

”I-I don’t know what to say!” Y/N said as she looked up at him. “I’m still in University so how will I be able to work.?”

”Don’t worry about that. I called your University and discussed this with them, they’ll forward you the information that you missed out on.” Erwin explained. “Of course, you’ll also get a free ride to here and you must have a uniform. Just sign the paper.”

Y/N could do this. With all that money, she’d be able to pay bills, buy groceries and would still have lots of cash still leftover. Not to mention that she would also be getting promoted for her behaviour and hard work. Grabbing the pen shakily, Y/N signed the paper and looked up at Erwin. Almost instantly as the pen left the paper, Erwin snatched it away and kept it in a safe document.

“That’s a good girl..” Erwin mumbled to himself as he put it in his drawer and locked it. “Now then Y/N, let’s get straight to work shall we?”

“What would you like me to do sir?” Y/N asked watching Erwin stand up and lean over the desk, face’s practically in each other’s. “s-sir?”

“You wanna be a good little assistant Y/N?” Erwin asked, gently grabbing her chin. Y/N sat paralysed, unable to move. Why was he touching her like this? How could she get away from him?

”S-sir could you please m-move bac-“ Y/N began to stutter out.

”Quiet doll. Get on your knees for me, that’s your first order.” Erwin whispered in her ear. “Don’t keep me waiting-“

Y/N dashed towards the door, not caring if the chair tipped over. She would forget about the internship and leave this stupid company, tell her University that she rejected the job. Twisting the door knob, Y/N found it to be locked.

“No.. no no no! Someone help me! Get me out of here-“ Y/N yelled out as she banged her fist on the door. Erwin’s hand quickly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

”Now now Y/N. We wouldn’t want you to get fired especially from the biggest company in the world. Imagine how hard it’d be for you to get a job once people find out that you lack teamwork and manners. Not just you, what about your friends? They won’t have jobs either!” Erwin said, trying to manipulate Y/N.

”Get away from me your creep! I don’t care if that happens, you’re a nasty pervert who forces people to do things against their will.” Y/N yelled as she backed into the door.

”Whatever are you talking about my dear Y/N? You signed the contract, you’re bound to me forever. And sure we have quite an age gap, but that doesn’t stop me from living you like the pretty doll you are!” Erwin said menacingly.

”W-what.” Y/N mumbled as she stared into his icy blue eyes.

”That’s right Y/N, it’s either you get on your knees and listen to me like you’re meant to or else I’ll pull some strings and get your stupid friends in jail.” Erwin muttered as he placed a hand on her neck. “Choose wisely. You only have 10 seconds!”

What else could Y/N do? Get married to a man who was twice her age, live her life in riches in return for her obedience and body or fight back and risk her friends’ lives and futures.

“You promise you won’t do anything to my friends.?” Y/N asked nervously. Erwin chuckled at her response as he grabbed her chin.

“Oh Y/N. I knew you’d come along with my plans.” Erwin whispered before grabbing her cheeks and pulling her into a rough yet passionate kiss. “Be a good girl and let Daddy play with you.”

“E-Erwin I promise I didn’t mean to do anything! I swear!” Y/N pleaded as her dress was dropped on the marble floor and Erwin dragged her by her arm.

”Nile. Of all people you go talk to that bastard!” Erwin grumbled before throwing her into their shared bedroom. “Why did you do that Y/N? To make me jealous?”

”I p-promise I didn’t do anything on purpose! He just started talking to me at the very start of the event!” Y/N sobbed out as she fell onto the floor.

”Liar. Get up right now Y/N.” Erwin demanded in which Y/N immediately listened to. “It’s because you think he looks better, right Y/N? Do you think he’s better than me?”

”No-“ Y/N begun to say.

”Did you see the way he looked at you!? You and Nile were practically kissing from what I saw, he was so close to your face. I bet everyone else saw as well.” Erwin yelled.

“N-no. I’m sorry E-Erwin.” Y/N mumbled as she looked at her feet.

“A sorry isn’t good enough. You act like such a goddess on the outside when actually you are a slut, a gold digger, my fucking whore.” Erwin muttered as he gripped her hair, causing a yelp to erupt from Y/N’s lungs.

“I’m sorry Erwin! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” Y/N said as she held his hands.

”Oh I know you will, whether you like it or not.” Erwin replied as he pushed her on the bed.

#yandere aot x reader #yandere erwin #yandere erwin smith #yandere #yandere aot #aot x y/n #erwin x y/n #erwin x you #yandere shingeki no kyojin #daddy erwin #erwin aot #erwin #erwin fanfic #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #y/n

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spacexseven · 1 year

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Tuna, messed up idea, but imagine thriller buddy cop comedy turned full blown yandere horror with: scapegoat! Darling based on the serial killer au. Darling just has terrible luck and gets pinned all the murders and worse thing? they wake up one day, covered in blood, in a strange place with the cold corpse of a red headed man. It takes a while for the implications of what happened to hit them and they later find out they now have mutiple abilities. Abilities they never had before. Or! maybe, this is a crappy isekai au with bad end! serial killer reader. sigma 🤝 isekai scapegoat darling - 🦄 (im thinking about random ideas too much while i should be finishing other wips and ideas.)

manga spoilers below regarding the unknown doa members and a future part of the doa's plan :) i took liberties with the extent of the book's abilities so. don't question it hfhfh

in the same universe as sk reader, but this time, reader is a stranger who has been brought into the bsd world as a pawn in fyodor's new plan. here, fyodor has broken out of meursault already. fyodor centric but implied sigma x reader and nikolai x reader

cw: murder, dark isekai, death, start of an obsession, manipulation, kind of dehumanization of reader, fyodor is Evil.

let's say things were not going according to plan. the hunting dogs had found the coin bombs in the casino, and now all eyes were on sigma and the associated members, mushitarou was out and working with ango and the ada, and the port mafia had seemingly come to help the ada too. it would only be a matter of time before kamui's identity was revealed, and that would destroy everything he's worked for thus far.

it would be easy to do as kamui says and unleash bram's infection across the population; it would only take weeks, if not days, for the virus to spread with kamui's ability in hand. but fyodor disagreed with his decision. no, there was a better way to do things. all he needed was time to distract the public and get everything back on track. if kamui's identity was revealed now...it would throw the world into chaos, yes, but not the kind he needed.

this called for his last resort.

though he hadn't told anyone, there was a little more than a side of a page left blank in the book. on the written side, he had intentionally left a very part blank on the offchance that things would stop going his way. kamui was unaware. of course, but that was for the best.

the first order of business was to ensure ango sakaguchi was dead.

his ability would prove to be too much of a hindrance since he could use it to find kamui and the others. with the information he had, he could somewhat be certain of where ango was and what he would be doing.

under the moonlight, he writes, ango sakaguchi walks down the alleyway, believing himself to be alone. suddenly, there's a strange sensation at the back of his neck; he considers turning around to face his pursuer and slowly reaches for his gun. but it's too late. the minute his hand reaches for the handle, something pierces his chest...

he can almost feel the words coming to life, twisting reality. fyodor smiles to himself as he finishes writing the last line; besides the corpse of ango sakaguchi, a person awakens. in their hand is a gun, the bullets of which match the ones inside ango. he writes about the blood splattered newcomer methodically cleaning up the scene and disposing of the body and evidence.

this person's ability allows them to take the ability 'discourse on decadence' for themselves.

it's a little bit harder to alter history, to make it so that the deaths of numerous ability users before were a result of his new subordinate's work, and give you all the power you need to be useful to him. he has to write down all the details about the deceased users so that there are no discrepancies, has to ensure the crime scenes are cleaned up but with enough clues so the implication is clear. there is a serial killer loose in yokohama, one that has been targeting ability users for almost a decade now.

the special division wouldn't be surprised that ango had become a victim; it made sense because he had been strongly involved in the case for a while now, but this also made it a priority. files about the sky casino were put on hold, and now the terrorists of the armed detective agency and the serial killer were the priority of the government.

it's funny; the special division thinks that the serial killer is working with the ada, which is why you were not caught despite the agency being aware of your presence all this time, and the ada believes you to be working with the doa. they would all be running in circles, chasing their own beliefs, with no consideration of fyodor's involvement.

nikolai brings him updates; his pawn is in a constant state of confusion and shock, and still unable to use your ability as it was intended. you're plagued by nightmares, too, and still afraid of everyone. he chides fyodor for not writing you to be a calm, composed person, so you would continue your work as fyodor intended you to, but he only had so much space. besides, he tells nikolai, pawns can be trained, too; like pets. all he needs is to offer you a home, an identity, and a life—just like he offered sigma—and you'd be eating out of his hand. what did it matter to you, after that, if a few more lives were lost as long as it guaranteed your own survival?

he arranges for documents to be made; for you to have your own job and home so that there's no suspicion about your identity, arranges for nikolai to surveil you closely and watch out for the eyes of god, lest you're caught by fitzgerald, and for sigma to gain your trust. he himself comes to let you know about all the abilities you have and helps you wield them easily

it's a shame. on paper, you were the perfect pawn—but you're too weak to act on your own yet. he doesn't mind the extra time spent, however, and he coaxes you into targeting mushitarou, whose ability would be extremely useful, but your hands still shake even when he places his over yours and directs the gun for you, and you still cry when you see the blood pooling out of mushitarou, folding in on yourself with shallow breaths. you still tremble when he asks you to use your newest ability.

you're still sniffling when he pets your head and suggests you clean up, and though you go quiet, he can tell you're still haunted by your actions when he looks at the glossy emptiness of your eyes. even after all this time, you still look conflicted when he praises you for a job well done.

it doesn't matter what you feel right now, anyway. fyodor smiles to himself when he catches sight of you slumped up against sigma, watching the other go through his customer files, because he would never let you leave. you don't have anywhere else to go, or anyone else to turn to. nobody would accept you like they have, and you knew that; even if you were so terrified that your hands froze over the trigger or you can't pull the knife out, you'd still force yourself to do it if he asks.

truly, you make for a perfect pet.

#its not really yandere Yet fyodor might become obsessed w reader later #yandere bsd #this is so sad poor reader ill save you #yandere fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #dark isekai #isekai au 🐟#bungo stray dogs isekai #sk reader au 🐟#ask 🐟#anon 🐟#fyodor 🐟#nikolai 🐟#sigma 🐟#bsd 🐟#🦄 anon 🐟

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astroboots · 2 years

Note

Okay so I just saw this on Twitter and immediately thought of Homecoming Frankie and Santi… the three of them tucked away in a cabin somewhere remote with nothing to entertain themselves with except this crappy old ping ping table. And it’s two against one and they are getting VERY competitive and they’re ganging up on you but it’s hot down there in that cabin basement and so you start to remove layers and notice it’s distracting them so you start stripping, watching them fumble and stutter, their mouths hanging open…

HOMECOMING: TWO AGAINST ONE

OH MY LORD! THIS IMAGE! You are sending me! So firstly I do actually have a wip that is very similar to this one, but because you sent me this depravity I wrote a little something, just for you. I LOVE YOU, I don't deserve this gorgeous, amazing, sexy thought you've sent me.

Homecoming Drabbles | Homecoming Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

Brat.

Obnoxious brat.

Short, obnoxious brat!

"What's wrong Cariño?" Santiago says, with a grin across the table from you, as you have to tuck your metaphorical tail between your legs as you walk across the room to pick up the little plastic ping pong table that ricocheted from Santiago's latest move and is now bouncing mockingly against the wooden floor in the corner.

Next to him, Frankie is shaking his head, with a sheepish expression on his face, clearly regretting being pulled into your competition with Santiago (as always).

"Thought you said you could take us both," Santiago adds.

From the way his voice is almost cracking with amusement at the edges, you know that double entendre is on purpose.

God, he's such a fucking brat.

You're better than Santiago at this game. You know it and he knows it. It's why you had bragged, perhaps a bit too confidently and a bit too loudly about how there is no handicap in the world that could have Santiago winning a game of ping pong over you.

It's why when Santiago had suggested two against one, you had readily taken him on. You just hadn't expected the two of them to be so coordinated and in sync with their movements.

In retrospect, that was a novice move. Because of course those two would be. You don't spend half a lifetime in the army together, watching each other's six only to end up on the other side of it, not being in tune with each other.

The bastard's still grinning at you.

Fuck your life.

Rolling up the sleeves of your sweatshirt, (Fuck it's warm in this cramped and stuffy basement--whose fucking idea was it to voluntarily do physical exercise), you bend over, picking up the tiny little ball.

You drag your eyes back to the table, where Santiago is practically lit up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, bouncing on his feet, as he takes a step back, in preparation, widening his stance, in some ridiculous half-wrestling move. He takes this game way too seriously (which, yes you know, you know: this is very pot calling the kettle black, considering the way you're already craning your neck from left to right in preparation for the next round).

He has no fucking right to look this good. Silver-black curls, bouncing on his forehead, as the sweat glistens off his thick neck. Bare-armed, as white fabric of his tanktop clings onto his chest. His fingers thread through his heat-furled curls, matted with sweat.

At the sight of it, something sharp and electric zaps through you, from the tip of your toes right into the center of your belly. For an infinitesimal second, you're not entirely sure if the sensation comes from the all-too familiar competitive streak between you or just how fucking attractive Santiago looks in this moment as he's grinning back at you. Gleefully happy and excited in a way you might not have seen him since you were both kids.

It makes your mouth dry out, heart pumping even faster (which isn't really ideal considering how high your heartbeat already is from the strenuous exercise you've already been victimised under from this stupid bet) and if the heat in this room hadn't already beat you to it, you'd be pretty sure your face would be burning too.

Frankie must see your plight, because his brows scrunch in concern as he looks at you.

"Baby, we don't have to keep doing this. We can call it a draw and just put on a movie upstairs instead," Frankie offers sympathetically.

"No Frank, game doesn't end until she calls uncle and admit she's lost, them's the rule," Santiago counters, as he taps his paddle tauntingly on the table. "Buckle up sweetheart, next round."

You make a sound in your throat that sounds much like a growl.

Brat. You weren't going to take Frankie's offer anyhow. Would much rather die from a heat-stroke than have to listen to Santiago's taunting all night about how everyone knows he's "technically the winner" if you hadn't begged for mercy.

A lone drop of sweat trickles down the back of your neck and fuck, that is it. You can't take the heat. Putting down your paddle and the ping pong ball on the table, your hands come to the hem of the grey army-sweatshirt, dragging the constraining cotton up your torso and off your neck, before you fling it onto a chair nearby. As soon as the itchy grey fabric leaves your skin, leaving you in your strapped cami blouse, you feel like you can breathe again. Thank god for linen.

Your skin is almost dewy from the sweat and perspiration, you feel disgusting. Stupid Santiago and his stupid competitive games, and his stupid army sweatshirt.

"Fish, don't get distracted. She's doing this on purpose."

You look back up, confused by Santiago's reprimanding tone until your eyes meet Frankie, and the way he's staring at your newly revealed skin. It's not until you look down, you realize, that your bra is showing under the near transparent material of your top.

Frankie's eyes round, almost comically, the black eating into the rest of his gorgeous eyes, until it's nearly pitched black.

"Uhm--yeah," Frankie responds, but you can tell from the thick drawl in his tone, the way his words goes slow and clumsy, the way it sounds like melted sugar burning under low heat, that he's not really hearing Santiago.

Santiago can tell too.

"FRANK!"

That snaps the man right out of it, he blinks repeatedly, as if waking up from a daze. The dark, near-blackness of his eyes, softening, until it's all warm and light hazel gentleness.

"Right, right," Frankie murmurs, as he drags his eyes away from you, eyes lowering to his feet, even as the flushed pink continues to climb.

And oh, bless this sweet summer child, you do love him so much.

So easy, your Frankie.

Bending over the table, you stay there, lingering languidly in your movements, until you're sure, from the way that Frankie swallows hard in his throat, that he's seen the lace of your bra peek out from the top, before you pick up the ball and lean back up.

Then you wink at your husband, and even though the loose sweats he's wearing provides him with some legroom, you know that the obvious bulge there is not from Frankie hiding a goddamn tree log in those pants.

If your next serve is a little bit more exaggerated in your movements for Frankie's benefit, well... there are no rules against that.

It's a comical sight. Santiago goes left, and Frankie clumsily fails to track the ball's movements, and missteps, until Santiago crashes into him with a loud curse.

The ball pings off the table and onto the floor, and you can practically see the fumes rising from the top of Santiago's head as he walks off to the corner, with pendejo and horny idiot scalding hot on his tongue.

With his back turned, you seize your chance, tilting your head coquettishly at your husband, as you drag your index finger along the flimsy collar of your top, dragging it down along the swell of your breasts until you can hear the groan wrenched from his throat.

"Foul!" Santiago's voice shouts from across the room. "That's fucking cheating and you know it!"

"How exactly am I cheating?"

"You're confusing Fish, flirting and stripping!"

"You're nuts, he's my husband! I'm allowed to flirt with my husband!"

"Not when we're playing, you're not!"

You stare at him in silence, a stand-off, neither of you willing to blink or back down from your irrational stance. The seconds ticking over from one to five to thirty until you must stand there for a full minute.

Until finally Santiago blinks. "Fine!" he growls, as he throws the paddle down on the table and his hand comes to the hem of his tanktop and pulls it off.

You blink in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Different game," he announces as if the logic makes perfect sense and he pulls off and kicks off the sweatpants to a far off corner in the room, standing in his half-naked glory, with only his boxers clinging onto his thick thighs and round ass.

Santiago must have lost his mind. The heat must have finally gotten to him. Because if he thinks that him stripping is going to make Frankie more concentrated in this game, then clearly Santiago's brain must have fried.

In front of you, Santiago is advancing on you, practically marching, until he's close enough that he can grab your arm and pull you to him, warm, rough palm against the back of your neck, as he presses his mouth against yours. It's hungry, it's frustrated, it's everything. Tongue licking into your mouth as he opens you up to him. The oppressive heat of the room strikes you again, the room spinning around you until your head is buzzing and you nearly lose your footing in his arms as you melt against him.

He pulls away from you. "Different game," Santiago repeats against your lips, "same rules though."

You're still confused, completely uncomprehending of what his words mean until he turns his face in Frankie's direction, with that mischievous grin still plastered on his spit-slick lips, "you comin' Frank?"

Santiago is grinning, eyes glittering with competitiveness. Heat licks against the bottom of your spine, as it finally click for you. Different game, but same rules: two against one.

FUCK

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

#oscar isaac #pedro pascal #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #homecoming drabbles #cici writes #💌 asks

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carnal-lnstinct · 1 year

Note

dumbass x dumbass with goku?? ty in advance!!

3/3

This was unbelievable, really. For a couple of fighters who frowned at the idea of sitting around and staring at a TV for hours, they didn't waste time hogging up the couch and hoarding your new video game to themselves. Hercule wasn't kidding about it being the most popular versus game to hit homes but you assumed that was probably because he was in it. And the main character no less, using his tale of the Cell Games and the battle for the universe against Majin Buu. Including the likeness of the true warriors in those battles as The Champ portrayed them to make himself look better sounded like a crappy idea when it was first brought to those who knew the real story, Hercule being nice enough to ask permission to use their appearances and special techniques for his personal gain this time.

But then you saw the trailers and samples of gameplay leading up to its release and it was a real eye-catcher for you. You were looking forward to playing it

You just thought being gifted the game would mean you actually got to play it!

By their disposition it was clear who was winning and how things were getting tensed, the crowd of saiyans, humans, namekian, and...well, you’re not certain what Buu was, but they were all squeezed into your living room to spectate the current players and also play as their respective characters to see if their parodied versions were at least given some dignity.

First they mock you for all the time you spend on video games and now they’re caught up in it. This had gone on long enough.

“I call next. Let me play, too!” You pouted at your husband, the obvious dominator of the rest. Goku’s eye didn’t even leave the screen, locked in his concentration as he responded to you.

“You said house rules were the newcomers play the winner. Vegeta has to pass it, he's the one losing.”

“I am not losing to you! You are using a cheap strategy to irritate me!” The Prince quickly snapped. With the raging energy coming from him, you were sure he was going to snap the controller in half.

“I don’t care who’s losing, it’s my game and you’ve been playing long enough! Everyone else is…” Your voice trailed off realizing that your words were simply in one ear and going out the other. With a huff, you marched across the floor and stood directly in front of the tv blocking everyone’s vision. You’re met with jeers all around, forcing them to pause their fight.

“(Y/n)!” Goku, antsy to keep playing, quickly moves from his seat and approaches you. “C’mon, You know you can’t do that. I was winning!” You squint your eye at him and fold your arms refusing to move.

“Out of the way, woman! I was just about to get Kakarot out of the game once and for all!” Vegeta urged as well but you ignored him glaring up at Goku.

“I want…to play.” You insisted.

“You said house rules can’t be broken, hun. You just gotta wait your turn like everyone else.” Goku leans over, holding a hand over his mouth to whisper to you. “Don’t worry, Vegeta won’t be lasting much longer.” In response, your pout grew. You waited long enough to even get the game, you’re not waiting another few hours to play it! With a grump, you untuck your arms and push your fist into Goku’s chest. Looking at the way you posed it, he arched a brow at you. “Really? That’s how you want to settle it?”

You asserted with a single nod. He gives you a solemn look, brows lowering over his eyes as he nods in return. No one's ever seen Goku look at you in such a way before, a glare better earned by those he could claim as archrivals. Your guests watch more silently in anticipation, Goku tucking his controller under his arm and presenting his own fist to you. In a silent countdown, you both hammered your fists down in the air, shouting in unison.

“Rock…Paper…Scissors!”

#♚ ;; [ asks ]#goku x reader #son goku x reader #goku imagine #dbz imagine #My writing #♚ ;; [ requests ]

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crackedpumpkin · 1 year

Note

I saw that you had requests open uh-

Rise Leo with a fem reader that works for/with the purple dragons?

Either as like another coder or an artist for the crappy group of teens- lol

a/n: lovely anon, the amount of agony i have just experienced in the past few hours as i try to release my brain from its den of constipated creativity is all for you. I hope you enjoy <3 Also, idk how tf I'm still sick even though it's been like, 5 days. Am i fated to simply shrivel away? Find out in the next update!

|| ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ || ʀɪꜱᴇ! ʟᴇᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

Another day, another round of going through the same motions once again. I dread walking into the hallways drenched with the scent of overpowering cologne, where no one understands me. The smell burns like a thousand suns upon my being, making me shrivel away into a husk of mineself.

I despise the sunlight. It keeps me at bay, because the darkness is where I belong. It calls to me, draws me in like the everlasting comfort of father’s arms. If his arms were actually clean and comfortable, that is.

Ah, the classroom approaches my vision. I hesitate. Is it truly worth the risk? Alas, I must follow through for the sake of my family. If only there were someone who truly understands me, and sees me for my true worth hidden under this hood of mine.

Am I just fated to be forever this amazing at being undercover?

“Okay Leo, you can stop with the inner monologue now.”

“Hey, if reinventing oneself is this easy, why aren’t the rest of you here then?” Leo whispers back into his watch harshly, eyes narrowed into a glare directed at the neon light that depicts the time.

“We sent you in because Mikey would get distracted, and I’m not there because I need to make sure Donnie has parental supervision at all times. And the reason why Donnie’s not there is because he’d stand out too much.”

“That is true; it is hard to hide such genius away instead of dazzling the clueless students.” Donnie muses over the small speaker he installed in the watch, having created this gadget specifically for this mission.

“Now remember, Leo, your mission is to get in, blend in, and make sure that Kendra’s not up to anything good. There’s been word on the street-”

“A.k.a. April,” Donnie interrupts.

“That there’s been a newcomer. And you know what they say about newcomers; they’re always up to no good.” Raph ignores Donnie, his firm instructions making Leo roll his eyes.

“Chill out, guys. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m the best at going undercover! I’ll find what they’re planning and be out lickety-split!”

“Leo-”

“Oh, would you look at that! It’s time for class to start. Byeeee,” Leo cuts off his brother from saying anything further, quickly pressing a button on the side of his watch that ends all communication.

He breathes a sigh of relief, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sleek black hoodie. He eyes the color distastefully. The sacrifices he’s had to make for this mission are excruciating.

“Alright Leo, time to get your best emo goth phase going.” He mutters under his breath, using his elbow to nudge the door open and entering with slouched shoulders. He peeks out from under his hood to scan the classroom.

It’s packed with quiet students who stare at their monitors with eyes of focus. He’s pretty sure they don’t blink. He sucks in a nervous breath through his pursed lips, wandering around until he finds a seat.

He glances around. The number of students around him is sparse, providing him with some form of relief. He’s secured a spot to survey the scene. Now, to find the little troublemakers that call themselves the Purple Dragons or whatever.

He does a quick spin in his chair, hands on the top as he balances himself on his knees. He frowns when he doesn’t see them, only to pause once his gaze lands on a group at the front.

One, two, three, and four, he counts off mentally, pausing when he realises something’s amiss.

Four? There weren’t four the last time he checked. He vaguely recalls Raph’s words from earlier about some sort of newcomer. Ah, this must be her!

But once you turn your head, he forgets everything entirely.

No one told him that the newcomer would be pretty.

He watches as you scoff at something Kendra says, leaning back in your seat as your fingers fly across the keyboard so quickly that all he registers is a blur.

She’s pretty, so what? Don’t let it distract you from the mission, goth Leo. You’re here to flirt- I mean, find out what Kendra’s up to, he chides himself. He sits back down in his seat when the bell rings, slumping against the chair. The very picture of refined laziness of a high schooler that cares for nothing.

You gather your things and stand up from where Kendra, Jeremy, and Jason had gathered around you. “Look, I’ll continue debugging the programme later, okay?” You promise, Kendra nodding in satisfaction before she lets you go.

You breathe a sigh of relief, walking away from them and scanning the classroom for any empty seats, preferably away from the new gang you’ve suddenly found yourself a part of. You spot an empty seat at the back next to a student you’ve never seen before.

You raise a brow. You know everyone in this classroom, already having familiarised yourself with their faces. But they’re someone you’ve never seen before. You make your way over, unable to contain your curiosity at their getup. It’s as if they’re allergic to the very air itself, from the way they’re dressed in a hoodie and long black sweatpants that cover every inch of their body.

Leo spots you approaching from the corner of his eye, heart pounding as he does his best to remain unbothered. This is the time to put his acting skills to the test. He watches you sit down warily, his body tensing when you turn to face him with a smile.

“I’m Y/n,” You introduce yourself, noting the slight raise of their head when you speak.

“Leonardo,” He introduces himself smoothly, relieved when his voice doesn’t crack from how nervous he is.

“Well, nice to meet you, Leonardo. Is this your first time taking this class?” You ask, resting your elbows on the table while propping your chin on your hand. You’re a little wary of his character, based on the way he’s dressed. Maybe he’s cold. In this heat, though? But it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him, you suppose.

“Yeah, would someone as kind as you show me the ropes, hermosa?” He grins.

You take a moment to contemplate, glancing back at your project that still has so much work to be done. However, it wouldn’t hurt to help out a newbie. Plus, you could just google what he had called you later.

"So, are you just chilling here or...?" You ask, gesturing to the black screen of his monitor. "Do you not know how to turn it on...?"

"Oh, I just prefer not to. I do my best thinking monitor-less."

"Sure..." You hide a grin at his words, chuckling. "Power button's on the bottom right." You whisper, pressing another button to turn on his CPU for him.

Huh. Leo rather liked the sound of your laugh.

“Thanks. Looks like my first lesson of the day’s already going smoothly,” He chirps, already moving the mouse and double-clicking on random programs that have been pre-downloaded into the PC. He leans over to you slightly, peeking at your screen and comparing it with his.

He opens a coding software that looks similar to yours, the only difference being that his is blank, whilst yours is filled with hundreds of lines of code. You take a moment to read through your own code, trying to find the singular error that’s making your life a living hell.

“Woah,” You flinch, caught off guard by his sudden closeness to your side. “What’s that mean?” He points to a random line, looking at you for an explanation.

“This function just makes it so that when a button is clicked, it’ll check all the fields of my form before it’s allowed to go through to the server. It’s supposed to be simple validation, but for some reason, it’s not going through.” You all but growl under your breath, growing irritated at the wonderful reminder of your current progress.

“Riiiight, functions.” Leo nods, though the slow drawl in his voice makes you hesitate.

“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly, “This chunk here is basically making it so that when this button is pressed, it checks if everything’s been filled before letting it process,” You attempt to simplify, pleased when you hear a sound of realisation from the boy beside you.

Guess you have to start from scratch. You shift your chair closer to his, sharing the desk with him. You reach out and grab the keyboard, sliding it closer. “Now, type what I’m highlighting on my screen, okay?”

He readies his sleeve-covered hands, placing them on top of the keyboard confidently and accidentally pressing down on multiple keys. The page gets spammed with random sequences of numbers and letters, and he chuckles sheepishly before rapidly backspacing.

You wait patiently, his inexperience making you reminisce fondly on the days spent reading up and watching Youtube tutorials on how to code. Once he clears the screen of the numerous characters, you clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter in your seat.

“So, you’re gonna type this.” You tilt the screen of your own monitor and use your mouse to highlight a certain part of your code. He types away, looking up now and then to compare your code to his.

"So, what'd these nerds ask you to do?" He takes the chance to ask, using his chin to nod at the people you were with earlier whilst propping his feet up on the desk.

"Acting as if you're not a nerd yourself," You laugh, "I was helping them debug a few things in their program."

"Ah-ah," Leo holds up a finger, quickly shoving it back inside the pockets of his hoodie when his sleeves start to slip, "I'm a dork, not a nerd. The main difference? Dorks are lovable, and girls like lovable."

“Sure they do,” You snort, leaning back in your seat.

“Of course they do! After all, you’re still talking to me, aren’t you, hermosa?” He points out smugly.

Well, that is true. You pause, cheeks warm as you try to think of a way to retort but come up with none. “I suppose you’re right,” You admit in defeat, sharing a chuckle with him.

“You do know that they’re bad news, though, right?”

You purse your lips, frowning slightly as you sigh. “Yeah, but I owe Kendra a favour.” You admit with a simple shrug.

“A favour? That’s it?” Leo’s baffled by how simple your reason is.

“Yeah, I don’t like owing favours to people. Besides, it’s just temporary,” You say, raising a brow at his rather intrusive questions. Did he know…?

He wouldn’t know, you chuckle. There’s no way he’d know about the hacking device Kendra had asked you to help debug for her.

Oh, she knows something. Leo can feel it in his gut, noting the slight suspicion in your gaze. He shrugs, propping his elbows behind his back and leaning against his chair. “None of my business anyway. Besides that, though, what do you think? I did pretty good, huh?”

“Not bad for a first timer,” You smile, pleasantly surprised that he had figured out how to toy around with the different aspects of the webpage in such a short time, relaxing at his carefree attitude.

“Anyway, what’s your favourite movie?” Leo asks eagerly, trying to figure out a way to build back up to the conversation about the Purple Dragons once more. A harmless question wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Oh, right now it’s Frozen. But I’ll always have an attachment to the ones I grew up with, like Lou Jitsu,” You answer absentmindedly, having moved your chair back to resume debugging your own code.

“You know Lou Jitsu?”

“Yeah, my dad made me watch every single one when I was younger. Now it’s like a guilty pleasure,” You say, pausing after. “Wait, you know Lou Jitsu too?” You question with wide eyes, shocked that there’s someone else in this school who knows of Lou Jitsu.

“Of course! I’m his biggest fan, along with Jupiter Jim, of course,” Leo brags, lazily spinning in his chair.

“I haven’t heard that name in forever,” You lean your cheek into your palm, nostalgia hitting as you remember the days spent in your room, rifling through page after page of Jupiter Jim comics. “Jupiter Jim was fantastic. Actually, I think I still have a few issues still in mint condition. Planned to sell them, but kinda forgot with all the projects I got going on,” You gesture tiredly to your bright screen in silent explanation.

Wow. If he wasn’t already infatuated with you, he sure is now.

Leo’s about to speak when the school bell rings, signalling the start of lunch. Students start to pack up, streaming out the door automatically in search of food. You hear a small growl from his stomach, looking at him with eyes that shine with amusement.

“Shall we continue this conversation over lunch?” You ask as you hold his gaze. Well, you’re pretty sure that you’re looking straight into his eyes. It’s hard to tell where his are under the hood. You’re still not sure why he’s hiding his face, but hey, Leonardo seems fun to hang out with.

Plus, he’s funny.

You like funny.

“Yo, Y/n!” You turn at the mention of your name, deflating slightly when you see Kendra gesturing you over to the front.

“Looks like we have to postpone that lunch date, mi amor.”

You pause in the middle of gathering your things. You’re not a native Spanish speaker by any means, but you’re pretty sure you know what the nickname implies. A rosy pink blush blossoms on your cheeks, clearing your throat and standing up in your seat.

“Catch you later, Corazón,” You rush off to meet Kendra after your daring reply, though Leo spots the flustered glance you throw over your shoulder. He grins, a rush of euphoria giving him a high he never thought possible.

"Leo, anything to report?" Raph’s voice suddenly speaks from his watch. He immediately covers it with his hand, glancing around furtively to check if anyone’s heard. Luckily, it’s only him in the lab, and the Purple Dragons are too far away to have heard.

He hesitates, watching you join Kendra and leave, but not before you cast an apologetic glance over your back to him. The smile doesn’t leave his lips, his gaze fixated on you as you round the corner. He finally lifts up his watch to his face, answering his brothers.

"No, nothing special to report, dear brother. Over and out."

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