#vine is not a word anymore

[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do. 

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me. 

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with. 

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

[inkspiredwriting]

Goodbye Five

A/N: I'll be honest with you when I wrote this, I cried. I had to watch that horrible five and lila scene again because I wanted the exact wording. My heart is still bleeding and I don't know if I'll take a break soon. I still feel pretty sick when I think about the whole Lila and five thing.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5

Y/N stood alone in the dimly lit subway station, her breath coming out in shallow, shaky gasps. The briefcase in her hand hummed softly, its temporal energy pulsating beneath her fingers. She had used it to escape the chaos of her own timeline, seeking refuge in another. But as she looked around, she realized that she had arrived in a place she never expected—a timeline where the love of her life, Five, was not hers.

She knew she had to stay hidden. The risks of revealing herself were too great, both for her and for this version of Five. So, she kept to the shadows, slipping through the timeline like a ghost. She watched from afar, her heart breaking with every passing moment.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that in this timeline, Five had found someone else. And that someone else was Lila.

The first time she saw them together, her heart nearly stopped. She had been walking through a House, drawn by the sound of laughter. It was a sound she knew well, a sound that had once been the music of her life. But as she peered through the foliage, she saw that it was not her laughter mingling with Five’s—it was Lila’s.

They were in a greenhouse, surrounded by lush greenery and the sweet scent of strawberries. Five was standing by a patch of plants, carefully watering the fruits, while Lila stood opposite him, a mischievous smile on her face. Y/N’s heart ached as she watched Lila pluck a strawberry from the vine and toss it at Five, who observed it with a grin.

“If you keep this up, we’re not gonna have strawberries when the snow comes.” Five said, his voice teasing as he gently tossed the strawberry back at Lila.

She felt the breath leave her lungs as she watched Lila stumbled and Five caught her. Five’s eyes softened as he watched her, a look of affection that Y/N knew all too well. It was the look he used to give her, in another time, another life.

Y/N pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob as she continued to watch the scene unfold. it was all too much. She wanted to turn away, to flee from the pain that was tearing her apart, but she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the man she loved and the woman who had taken her place.

The strawberries were forgotten as Five stepped closer to Lila, his hands reaching out to cup her face. Y/N’s heart shattered as she saw the way Lila leaned into his touch as they kissed, her eyes closing as if savoring the moment.

“Don’t.” Lila whispered, her voice soft and full of emotion.

“Don’t what?” Five replied, his voice equally tender.

“Be weird.” Lila's voice was soft as she looked into Five's eyes.

“Was that weird?” Five’s voice thick with emotion.

“No, which is what makes it weird.” Lila replied,

And then, as if to seal their words, they kissed again. It was a kiss filled with love, with the kind of love that Y/N had once known, but now felt slipping away from her grasp. She watched them, her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes.

When they finally broke apart, Five rested his forehead against Lila’s, a contented smile on his face. and Lila smiled back at him, her eyes shining with love.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She turned and fled, her feet carrying her as far away from the greenhouse as possible. She didn’t stop until she reached a secluded spot at the edge of the House, where she collapsed onto the ground, her body wracked with sobs.

The pain was unbearable. It wasn’t just the sight of Five with another woman—it was the knowledge that in this timeline, she didn’t exist for him. She was a stranger, a ghost from another life. And he had moved on. He had found love, and happiness, with someone else.

Y/N curled up on the ground, her tears soaking into the earth. The briefcase lay beside her, a cold reminder of the choices that had led her here. She had never imagined that she would end up like this—stranded in a timeline where the man she loved was lost to her forever.

As the night wore on, Y/N’s sobs slowly subsided, leaving her feeling empty and hollow. She stared up at the ceiling, her heart aching with a pain that seemed to have no end. She had thought she could handle anything, that she was strong enough to face whatever life threw at her. But this—this was too much.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, lost in her grief. But eventually, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She was alone in a timeline that wasn’t hers, with a man who didn't even know she existed. And even if she could go back, what would be waiting for her there? A world where Five didn’t love her? Where he was in love with Lila?

Y/N wiped her tears, trying to summon some semblance of strength. She knew she couldn’t stay here, wallowing in her sorrow. She had to find a way back to her timeline, to accept that this timeline was not hers to change. This Five had found happiness, and she had to find her five again, the five who loved her.

With a heavy heart, Y/N picked up the briefcase and activated it. As the familiar hum of temporal energy surrounded her, she cast one last look behind her. The memory of Five and Lila, laughing and kissing in the greenhouse, would haunt her forever.

“Goodbye Five.” Y/N said, a tear slipping down her cheek

And then, with a flash of light, she was gone, leaving behind a timeline where the man she loved was lost to her.

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch part 2 Yeah, there's a subscription post now...

Danny pulled another sweet potato fry from his bag before refolding the top to keep it warm. He’d finish all the fries before he even got home, he knew that, but that was future him’s problem. Right then being able to munch on the sweet, salty goodness as he took a shortcut through the park was just what he needed. There was something about Robinson park that always settled him.

It was probably because of the park’s wild, otherworldly nature that came from Poison Ivy’s control. It almost felt ghostly in how unreal it was. It was another thing Danny tried not to think too hard on and just enjoyed. It wasn’t that Danny was ignoring the fact that he was half ghost (as he always tried to convince himself), he just wasn’t dwelling on it anymore. Ghosts had consumed his life for so long and he needed a break.

Even before his accident (it was easier to just call it an accident when people asked about his scars), his parent’s obsession controlled their house, family, and lives. He got now that it wasn’t normal to grow up not cooking because the food might eat you. Or because your parents were too busy in the basement lab to remember. His time away from Amity Park in college made Danny realize that Jazz and his childhood had been at best unsafe and at worst negligent.

It had taken Danny a lot of therapy to be able to say those words.

Being honest, Danny still needed a lot of therapy, but there was only so much progress he could make when he couldn’t really explain that he was half dead and had spent the end of his childhood fighting ghosts, the government, and his parents. He was half tempted to try and track down Harley Quinn and see if she was up to taking on a new patient. (Danny was pretty sure that she wouldn’t rat him out to the authorities.)

A vine thrashed suddenly in front of Danny, hitting the sidewalk with a meaty thump.

Danny froze.

Fuck.

His phone was out of power.

He couldn’t check if something was going on in the park.

While Poison Ivy was much more Pamela Isley than rogue these days, as seen by the city just letting her have control of much of the park, she was still temperamental and the right— or wrong— sort of thing could set her and her plants off. (Sometimes the plants went off on their own. Everyone knew not to be a sleaze bag in Robinson park.)

Slowly Danny started to back up.

Several more vines wretched themselves out of the ground around him.

He could hear shouting somewhere off to his left. Out of the corner of his eye he could see movement from the plants that direction.

Alright, not angry at him then.

Danny crept forward slowly, keeping his motions as calm and small as possible. Just because they plants weren’t angry at him it didn’t mean they weren’t a threat to him. His best chance was to stay on the path and head in the direction away from the noise.

And away from the over sized flowers.

Well fuckity fuck.

Most things Poison Ivy could do weren’t really a threat to Danny. He could phase away from vines, after all. But the flowers? The flowers had pollen and pollen was an unknown; one that Danny didn’t want to be known. Sam was rather certain that the pollens could effect Danny in odd and unknown ways due to his half ghost nature.

He had refused to let Sam experiment on him to figure it out. Comparing her fervor to his parent’s helped shut that idea down for good. Danny didn’t regret avoiding being a lab rat, even as he was staring down the ruby red flowers to his right. He still just had to keep his motions as calm and small as possible.

The flowers were only an issue if they let their pollen out.

Danny started to move in as wide of an arc as he could around the flowers.

While they were closed up he was safe.

Danny’s left hand spasmed.

The paper bag of food crinkled.

The flower petals unfurled.

Fuck.

---

AN: I know there are issues, another no read through late night post, but I'm getting my serotonin where I can. Stay delightful, darlings.

[nezuscribe]

𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊

summary: when a disease turns the world into an apocalyptic landscape, you join a group in order to survive. you find yourself drawn to a certain blue-eyed man for no explainable reason. though the two of you have your own pasts to deal with, the two of you grow closer and closer together. after all, it seems as though you’re the only lovers left alive

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: post apocalypse au, strangers to friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, smut, some hurt comfort, inspired by some of the events from the last of us

word count: 16k+

warnings: 18+ mdni, some heavy-ish themes, mentions of suicide, smut, heavy making out, fingering, vaginal penetration, cum eating, slight begging, gojo is a teeny bit of a dick but overall just doesn’t know how to handle emotions

note: i did take some inspo from the last of us, so if you see something you might recognize, it’s because i most likely based something off of it. nothing too major though, but the infected here are like the ones in the game/show. i don’t want any comments saying i stole the idea bc i stg i’ll just combust 

also a thank you for @jadeisthirsting​ for beta-reading again, love her!

You were glad that chocolate bars survived the apocalypse. 

Those, along with chips (you don’t look at expiration dates anymore), crackers, and protein bars seemed to stand the tests of time. 

The abandoned convenience store was harshly run down. The glass was shattered, and you could hear the crunch of shards underneath your boots whenever you walked up and down the aisles. Vegetation took reign in most of the area, and vines grew alongside the walls and the counters. Weeds sprung through the cracks in the floor and long blades of grass peeked in from the outside. 

A lot of the aisles were already ransacked from those who came before, but you had to admit that this place was in much better condition food-wise than all the others you had seen. You loaded your cart with whatever you could find; cereal, bars, chips, instant ramen, jerky, really anything that wasn’t perishable by your standards. 

You also made sure to stock up on medical supplies while you were here. Antiseptic, rolls of bandages, needles for stitching, medical tape. You were able to find a bottle of disinfectant and some rubbing alcohol, so you spent a couple of minutes cheering over the small victory. 

The rays of sun that peeked through and washed out certain parts of the store a quiet orange made it seem more serene than it actually was, and you took your time as you leaned on the cart handle, walking slowly as you tried to pretend like you were just shopping for amenities like you would years ago, without the fear of the outside world trying to hunt you down the moment you stepped out. 

Under your breath you hummed a soft tune, letting your fingers run over the empty shelves as you looked around. 

Many opened boxes littered the ground. None of them were to your benefit so you just stepped over them, tapping something on your arm to keep your mind busy. It was only noon, so you had a couple of hours to waste before it got dark.

Though you had the hunting rifle near you in case anything popped out in front of you, you liked to pretend that there was no danger when you rounded a corner. It saved a little naive part of your mind to imagine that everything was normal when you knew that it wasn’t.  

“...yeah, no, no, I agree, I just…” 

You stopped in your tracks, air hitching in your throat as you went rigid upon hearing the muffled voices. 

“I heard the bunkers in Kyoto and Osaka fell…radio transmission,” It was a female voice, that much you could make out. But assessing the sound of feet shuffling on the floor and the other sounds, you knew there had two be at least two people, maybe even more. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had heard somebody speak. You tried to remember, raking your mind for when it was, and it must have been months ago, maybe even a year, and that was just a small encounter. You doubted the guy even saw you. And this is far worse, they closed and you have nowhere to hide without making a sound. They could be raiders or scavengers. One of them could be infected without the other's knowledge. Millions of thoughts ran through your head as you tried to rationalize with yourself.

“What happened to the one in Nara?” This time it was a male voice, and much closer than before. They were probably only a few aisles away until they reached you. You could feel your heart beating uncontrollably fast, rattling against your ribcage as your mind faltered on what to you. 

“They’re not letting people inside. They deter anybody unless you have a pre-bought cabin there.” The first woman replied, and you could hear some glass clanking as she kicked an empty beer bottle (from what you could deduce), across the floor. 

“How do you know so much?” Another male asked. Three so far, you made a mental note as you tried shoving all your food and things in any pocket you could find, shoving the big bottle of rubbing alcohol down your shirt to nestle on your bra. You didn’t risk your life trying to find this place just to have some strangers take the things you so desperately need.

“They play messages on the radio at night. If you didn’t go to sleep so fuckin’ fast you might hear something useful.” The first girl said, but there was no bite to her voice. She even chuckled, and you swore one of the other guys laughed too. 

“Why can’t we just stay where we are? We haven’t seen any infected here.” Four. This time it was another girl's voice. So far, two females and two males. You were severely outnumbered. You doubted you were that skilled, even in all your years, to surpass four people.  

Deciding to leave a few bars behind, you gingerly moved past the cart, making sure not to make a sound as you tiptoed across the broken bottles and glass. You held your breath and tried to hold onto your jacket, not wanting anything to fall out. 

You tried to phase out whatever they were saying so you could stay focused. You squinted your eyes as rays of the sun blinded you when they peeked through some cracks in the ceiling. You shuffled slowly and precisely, your heart quite literally beating in your throat as moved around the debris on the floor. 

You could see the double doors, both open as you let out an inaudible sigh of relief when you saw them, a promise that you weren’t going to die right here when-

CRUNCH.

You stopped, eyes slowly falling down to the comically large piece of glass under your foot, now shattered into a million pieces as you stop breathing. You wait for abated second, thinking nobody heard until you heard some clattering coming from behind you. 

“What the fuck was that?” One of the girls asked, her laughter long gone from her voice as her question rang through the store. 

“I don’t know…wait here…”

You could run, it wasn’t that far to the door, but you were frozen in your place. It was like when…you couldn’t even think about it. Your mind blanked, your limbs not moving despite your brain willing them to do something, anything.

It felt like that day all over again, the weakness and fear that overtook your mind and body as you shook, your legs cramping, your hands shivering as your eyes darted around, your lips clamped between your teeth as blood roared in your ears. 

You wondered if you’d been faster or more agile something may have gone differently. But really, no matter what you were wouldn’t have altered the fact that you saw a blur of clothes from your peripheral, craning to look to your right as your eyes meet bright blue ones. 

Your brows furrowed when the two of you locked eyes, your chests moving up and down as you looked at the weapon in his hand, drawn out, pointing at your head as you blinked, mind going into overdrive as you let out a heavy sigh of air.

He looked angelic and you wanted to smack yourself for that being your first thought. His hair was artic white, tainted a bright yellow as the sun shined over him. He had a sturdy jaw and a tall frame. Long and delicate fingers clutching onto a weapon, getting ready to pull it out the moment he saw you. 

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that you hadn’t seen a man for over three years, but you knew that even despite your blurry and confused judgment he was better looking than most of the guys you’ve seen most of your life. 

There were a few seconds where neither of you said anything, not really knowing what to say as you shifted ever so slightly on your left foot, not knowing if you ran to the door he’d shoot you in the process. 

“Satoru?” A girl came in from behind him, looking at him and then to where his gaze fell until she saw you, a small aurora of surprise taking over her features. 

“Stay with Geto,” The man said, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed on you, his face unreadable but cold nonetheless as his focus never left your every tiny motion. Taking in all of your features, your clothes, your skin, your eyes. Anything that could give away that you were infected. 

Your eyes darted from him to the girl to his side, not knowing who to look at. The person with the gun pointed at you or the one who stared at you as if you were an artifact, a token she hadn’t seen before. 

“I’m not a threat,” You say after a couple more seconds of unbearable silence, your voice hoarse from barely using it anymore. You rub at your throat, wincing a little as you put your arms up to show that you have nothing in your hands, “I swear I’ll just leave and nothing else.” 

The girl stayed where she was, gnawing on her lip as she shoved the man's arms with hers. 

“She seems fine-” 

“Seems doesn’t mean she’s not infected.” He snapped, never taking his eyes away from you as he pulled his elbow away from her grasp. His voice had a bite to it, sending chills that traveled down your spine. He had no emotion on his face, clear of anything human. 

“I-I’m not infected.” You retaliate, taking a tentative step forward, watching as his grip on his gun became tighter, and taking a step back as he pushed the girl behind him. You put your arms up again, worried you were playing with fate as you slowly and carefully put your bare arms under a ray of light, making sure he could see your actions. You tugged on your sleeves, pulled down the collar of your shirt, and showed him your calves, anything to prove that you weren’t bitten. 

“See…?” 

You waited, his stare jumping from your face to your arm, different gears in his head turning as he debated what to do. 

“‘Toru, she’s not infected,” The girl said, trying to nudge his hand so he’d lower the weapon, “She’s right, she’d be in pain right now if she was.” 

But he didn’t move, his jaw ticking as he shook his head, seemingly still not believing you.

“How do I know you all aren’t infected?” You snapped, angry, as you tried to hide the quiver in your voice. They could be and they’re doing well to hide it. 

“We’re not.” He said, his voice steady, confident, and not carrying any trace of a lie.

“What’s taking so long?” Another voice joined the three of you, a man, the same in height as the one in front of you as he clasped a hand on his shoulder, his brow cocking in surprise when he saw you. His hair was a stark black, pulled into a bun behind his head. Some strands had escaped and fallen out. He seemed far more easygoing than the man next to him, though. His eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine. He looked over to the side as the girl shrugged, worry lacing her features as he drummed his fingers in her arm. He looked back at you, giving you a tiny smile, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’d just let me go.” You said, your voice mirroring the white-haired man, the new guy’s lips pulling into a little grin as he let out a deep laugh.

“Drop the gun ‘Toru, she’s fine.” The new guy said with a laugh, stepping forward as you took one back, your lungs squeezing together tightly as you went to grab the weapon strapped on your back.

He raised his hands as you had seconds ago, trying to show that he wasn’t intending any harm as he took another step forward. The playful look he had on his face melted away, forming to something softer as he took in the cuts that littered your cheek and knew, the way your eyes darted from his hands to his face to detect any danger. 

“Hello,” He started with a careful smile, not wanting to scare you off, “I’m Geto, but my friends call me Suguru,” He pointed to the girl behind him, “Vera even calls me dumb bitch-”

“Only when I’m mad!” She argued, shooting you an apologetic and embarrassed smile when she realized you were there too, and he snorted, continuing. 

“And the blue-eyed freak is Satoru. Anna’s back there, somewhere. Swear we don’t mean any harm. He’s just,” He glanced behind him at the man who was slowly lowering the gun, his face still clearly telling that he was weary of you, “Cautious.” 

He held out his hand, far larger than yours, for a shake. 

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting a little bit as you tried to make out just what he was trying to do.

But you dropped your hand from grasping onto the leather strap of your weapon, your fingers stretching, itching for some human contact as you debated for a little bit. Surely but slowly you brought your hand to his, softly clutching it to see a smile overtake his features. 

“Y/n,” You reciprocate with a small smile of your own, your chapped lips not used to the feeling. His fingers were long as they overtook yours, calloused, but human. They gave yours a gentle squeeze, almost as if he could tell, and you have one back. Something that you never realized you had missed up until this very moment, “My name’s y/n.”

He said your name once under his breath to commit it to memory. 

“You going anywhere specific?” He asked, his hands crossed across his chest as he waited patiently for you to answer. 

You swallowed dryly, in desperate need of some water as you pointed somewhere north. 

“Heard there’s a camp somewhere in Takayama…you?” 

He chuckled, nodding as if he couldn’t believe your words, looking behind him as the girl you guessed was Vera let out a small laugh too. The blue-eyed man, Satoru you deduced, stayed stoic, not giving anything away.

“By any chance are you talking about that one camp that has running water ‘n shit?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice anymore as you blink. 

“Nice,” He cocked his head in the direction of his group, the second girl, Anna, now walking in to see what the fuss was about, “That’s where we’re going too. Or at least, trying to. Care to join?”

You quickly learned that this group was different from your old one. 

They were serious, sure, but everybody was given the predicament. They were on guard at any sudden noise, guns drawn and ready, but they still acted like you guess they would have back in their old lives. They made jokes, laughed at each other's stupid mistakes, and spent the days and nights filling the silence with whatever they could. 

It was jarring, really, seeing how your old group of six never laughed nor had a moment of naïve fun, but you were far more fond of this than that.

“Damn, so you’re the youngest one here then?” Geto asked one day as you five trudged through an abandoned city. You looked up, mouth parted in slight awe as you took in the strange sights; abandoned skyscrapers, some tilting over a bit. Many were severely destroyed by the bombings. There were large craters on the ground, concrete slabs, and building chunks that fell into them. Geto nudged your side, snapping you from your trance as he waited for you to answer.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess,” Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “Only by a little bit though. I was about to graduate high school when it started and I guess that was like what, five-ish years ago?” You couldn’t distinctly remember, time had just become a construct after so many months.

Vera and Anna had begun talking about how old they were when it started, and you had gotten roped into the conversation. 

“You’re the baby of the group now!” Anna exclaimed, pinching your cheeks with a giggle as you laughed softly, looking down at the cracked concrete beneath your feet as your backpack thumped on your back with every step you took, “It's good though,” She whispered in your ear, “You can use it to get out of chores.” You snickered at that, rolling your eyes but thankful for the tip.

You found out that Anna was only a couple of months older than you. Then came Geto, who was a year older than you two, Vera was around as old as him, and Gojo was two years older than you. 

“Wait, so you’ve been traveling alone all these years?” Anna was the one to ask as she walked closer to you, her brows pinched together in confusion, 

You could have sworn it was an unspoken rule not to talk about the past unless somebody brought it up directly.

“No, no,” You shook your head as your nose wrinkled at the thought, “I was part of a bigger group. But we,” You looked away, at nothing in particular as a sharp pang ran through your chest, “We split up a while ago. That’s when I went solo.”

She nodded in understanding, pulling her hair back as she tied it up, fanning her face at the heat. The sun was beating harshly on your face, sweat prickling at your hairline as you squinted through the bright light.

“Was it hard?” Anna asked, clearly not picking up on your reluctance to the subject. 

You swallowed, feeling like a part of your chest was heavier than it was seconds before as you cleared your throat. 

“I, well,” You shrugged, stammering a bit, “A little bit, but I learned how to-”

“How’d you get your food?” She cut you off. You could tell she wasn’t trying to do any harm, her eyes shining with childish curiosity but it didn’t do anything to hide the fact that it quite literally felt like your throat was closing up. 

“I would hunt or find whatever I co-”

“So you like being part of a group?” 

“Yeah-”

“Did it ever get lonely?”

“Anna,” Gojo cut her off, his voice not loud but commanding enough to get everybody's attention, speaking for the first time in what seemed a couple of hours, “Calm down.” 

Her eyes darted from you to him, finally noting the overwhelmed expression that you were trying your best to hide as she muttered out a quiet sorry. She moved to talk to Vera, and you were thankful that it wasn’t awkward as you went back to looking at the buildings. 

You gave him a small nod, grateful, but he only blinked, looking away as he went back to listening to whatever Geto was telling him. You huffed out a small embarrassed laugh, not putting much thought into it as you kicked a pebble across the ground, feeling the wind tickle your cheeks as you tried to hold back the sting of tears in your eyes. 

Gojo didn’t say much, even after you joined their group, and Vera told you it was normal and not to take it to heart. So you didn’t try to talk much with him, not wanting to push and prod at any of his boundaries. But he was nice otherwise, in his own ways. He took the night watch, letting you guys sleep, and insisted that he was fine with it. He was attentive, always giving the rest of his food to Anna when she complained about how hungry she was. He was cautious, as Geto would put it, but you couldn’t blame him. You were cautious too.

Did it ever get lonely? Her question rang through your mind. It was stupid, you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. Hell, you’ve only known these people for a couple of weeks but it felt like she had dug a hot iron into your chest with the simple query. It was pathetic, really, but it was that thing where the more you tried to stop yourself from crying the worse it became, and that seemed to be true right now. 

You fell behind a little bit, not anything much, but enough so that you were by yourself as you looked up. You found it easier to control your emotions as you blinked back the tears, not wanting to wipe them away in case anybody noticed. In front of you, you could hear Vera and Anna arguing about something minuscule, smiles still on their faces as they playfully banter back and forth. 

The wind began to pick up a bit, your eyes watering even more as you blinked back the fat tears that were threatening to fall and roll down your cheek, biting your lip as if that could make it stop.

“Everything alright?”

Your head whipped to the side to where the voice came from, a little surprised to see Gojo walking next to you. His hair was tucked behind his ears, hands in his pockets as he waited for your response. 

As you blinked in shock a small tear fell, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand, no use in hiding it now as you nodded, lips quivering a bit as you sniffled. You could count the number of times he had spoken to you on a single hand, so you hid it by looking away. Your cheeks heated up under his heavy stare, not used to it, especially from him. 

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said as you exhaled shakily, not having the guts to look at him as you just stared directly ahead of you at the three heads of the other members of the group. But you weren't good at masking the lie as you watched from the corner of your eyes as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. 

Looking at his outstretched hand you saw a tissue and your eyes darted to him in questioning. 

“It’s not poisoned, y’know.” He told you, his voice slightly less monotone as you let out a watery laugh, tentatively taking it from him as you whispered out a hushed thanks. 

You blew your nose as quietly as you could, feeling bad as you threw it to the side of the street you blinked again, hoping this time you could do a better job of controlling your pesky and fragile emotions with somebody next to you.

There was a silent beat as neither of you said anything, wringing your fingers together as you tried to look for an explanation for all this. It was stupid, childish, and downright embarrassing, but you still couldn’t find the words to justify anything.

“Anna can be like that. You learn to live with it.” Gojo finally said, interrupting your train of thought as he spoke. You could tell he was slowing down his pace to match yours, his long legs taking shorter steps and you almost laughed at the sight. 

“It’s okay,” You said, rubbing at your eyes again as your nose wrinkled again, “I’m just not used to being…”

“Bombarded?” He said, finding the right word as you nodded with a small chuckle.

“Yeah… that. I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know why I’m…” You trailed off, wiping at your eyes with your palms as you took in a shaky breath, “It’s just been a while since I’ve talked this much, so I’m still trying to get used to it…sorry.” You let out a little hiccup, missing the way his lips almost pulled into a smile at the sound. 

“Don’t apologize,” He said, shrugging as he kicked a piece of broken asphalt across the sidewalk, “It’s not your fault.”

You went to open your mouth to say something back but Geto waved his arms, motioning the two of you to the rest of them as he pointed to something on the ground. 

“Oi, Gojo, come check this out. I don’t know if this is a cordyceps or a regular mushroom.” 

And you glanced at the man next to you one more time but he was already jogging forward to see what the fuss was about. It didn’t matter much, it shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t stop the way your little heart fluttered pathetically at his words. You quickened your pace, shaking your head at the thought as you joined the group once again.

But as much as you tried you couldn’t get his final words out of your head. It’s not your fault. How you wish it were true. If only he knew, he’d probably eat his own words. Swallow them up so that they were never spoken into existence because it was your fault. But you couldn’t say that now. 

You hated that time between day and night more than anything. 

When the crickets chirped and the sky became darker than it should have, casting a shadow over the ground. The stars were freckles across the sky and the light breeze didn’t distract you from the fact that clickers could be a stone's throw away from you without you ever realizing it. 

The abandoned apartment complex they decided to spend the night in was definitely in better condition than the ones surrounding it, but even with the extensive search you guys did up and down to make sure it was clear of any danger, you still felt a little nauseous as they set up base in the lobby. 

Your sleeping bags were sprawled out on the marble floor lined with dirt. You had your backpack next to you, your gun within arm's reach. Next to the fire was an array of cans to pick from, but you weren’t hungry, not in the slightest. You could barely stomach anything after Anna’s bombardment of questions that left you a quiet mess, and being surrounded by people in the dark just made it worse.

“Hungry?” Vera held out a can of preserved peaches but you shot your head, biting back the sick that made its way up to your throat at the thought of eating. You could feel her eyes burning on the side of your face but she didn’t press any further, eating as the two of you listened to Geto talk about his plan for reaching the camp in Takayama. 

He was the more animated one of the two males. He talked with his hands, his face contorting in different ways as he conversed with Anna. Gojo sat on the side, watching the flames dance across the rocks, his blue eyes lit a color you’ve never seen before as he listened in his own way to the conversation.

“I saw you earlier,” Vera whispered as she leaned in closer to you, throwing the empty can aside as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, pointing to Geto so your attention could stay on him while you listened to her, mostly not to draw any attention from the others as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Talking with Satoru.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking at Vera but she nudged you to look back at Geto, continuing. 

“I know he’s not the easiest person to warm up to,” She said with a shrug, picking at her nails as he glanced at you with a soft smile, “He used to be, before all this. I can’t really blame him for being on guard-” You nodded in understanding and she softly chuckled at your response, “But he cares.” 

About what? You wanted to ask but didn’t want to prod too much. 

“So you knew him before?” This was an easier one to answer, and she nodded, cracking her thumb as she rested her head on her arm. The light from the little fire Geto made casted red and orange shadows on the highlights of her face, and she seemed younger here (she wasn’t even old). Her wrinkles were gone, eyes were less full of stress.

“Yeah, he lived near us. Us, being me and Geto.” She quickly said to save you the confusion. Huh, you thought to yourself, no wonder they were so close.

“So you all grew up together?” 

“Yeah,” Her lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes creasing around the edges as she sat in thought, “From elementary school up until university. Geto and Gojo were even doing pre-med together.” 

You almost wanted to laugh at the thought. 

“I know, it’s weird. I can’t even begin to think of what they’d be like as doctors. But their parents wanted them to do it, so they just went along with whatever they said.” 

“What were you doing?” You asked, not even trying to focus on Geto anymore, finding her stories far more interesting. After some time you quickly learned that Vera had much to say when she wanted to, she was just selective when she did. 

“I was planning on becoming a teacher. It pissed my parents off, but I liked it.” Her words were soft, almost as if thinking about it brought back better memories. And you bet it probably did, a future she once wanted now far away from her reach. 

“And Anna? Did she grow up with you guys too?” 

She shook her head, stifling a yawn as her eyelids drooped a little bit. 

“No, we met Anna along the way. She and Emi were close though,” She said, rubbing at her tired face, dragging it down as she tried to fight the sleep threatening its way through her body. 

Emi?

You watched as her eyes widened slightly, looking over at you to see if you caught the name and she sighed in obvious disappointment, mad at herself for the slip-up. Mumbling something along the lines of shit to herself as she blinked quickly.

“Don’t - don’t ask,” She shot you a look and you dared to go against it, her face once lined with empathy turned stone cold, threatening even as her voice loomed its way through your bones, “Don’t say anything about that. Okay?” 

You nod, muttering out a soft ok, almost too scared to answer her loudly as she nodded, clearly not happy with it but knowing there wasn’t much else she could do. 

So you didn’t press it, pretending like you heard nothing as you nodded along to whatever Geto was saying. Though nothing could hide the fiery spark of curiosity that came with the new name, one you had never heard here before. 

You wondered why she tried to hide it.

That night you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d toss and turn, turning your pillow around to see if it would make a difference, but nothing was able to lull you into a tranquil state of being. 

The apartment would creak and groan sometimes, the stories above you stable enough not to collapse, but weak enough to freak you out from shutting your eyes as you stared at them. The crystal chandelier overhead was overrun by dust, and it would sway a little when the wind from outside picked up.

After a couple of minutes, you gave up, huffing in annoyance as you rubbed at your sleepy eyes, wishing they would just work with the rest of your body and sleep, but that was a pathetic attempt and didn’t work.

You got up, careful not to make a sound and disturb anybody sleeping around you, and looked around, looking for somewhere to sit that was safe and peaceful enough to help ease your mind. 

Moving as if you were about to step on a bomb, you found the reception desk, the paint peeling, and the wood corroding. It gave you a good view of the main apartment entrance, so you felt more comfortable there having a view of almost anything. 

Resting your back on it you let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving as your head fell back, thudding against it softly as you played with your fingers. 

“Why’re you up?” 

You almost yelped but controlled the urge as you jumped in your spot, eyes darting around till they found a faint mop of white hair to your left. He was prodding at the last embers of the fire with a metal pipe, moving them around as they made soft crinkling sounds with his every move. You wondered to yourself, both in shame and worry, how you had somehow failed to miss that.

“Were you watching me?” You whispered, wincing as you tried to lower the volume, scoffing at that being the first thing that came to mind. 

“I am on watch duty.” He said, his voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm as his brow raised a little bit. You could barely make him out with your limited vision, but you could tell from where he was standing that he was only a couple of feet away from you. 

“You didn’t answer my first question.” He reminded you after a beat of silence, his voice low as he tried not to wake anybody up. 

You yawned, shrugging as you picked up a rock not to your thigh, moving it around in your hand as your fingers ran along its smooth and imperfect crevices, its cool touch calming you down a little bit. 

“Can’t sleep.” You responded after a bit of thinking, but it really was the truth. Maybe a simplified version of it, but it caused him to let out a quiet scoff, obviously not satisfied with your lazy response. 

“Insomnia or bad dreams?” 

You laughed a bit, your lips quirking at the edges as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. 

“You would have made a spectacular doctor.” 

He took in a sharp breath of air and you laughed, stifling your giggle with your hand. His reaction telling you he obviously didn’t want that knowledge to be spread around. 

“Swear to god, that’s all she told me though.” You say, holding up your hands as if a pledge of your honesty though you doubted he could even see it. You heard him snort, obviously not buying it but not saying anything about it as he pushed at the coals around a little more. 

A small rush of wind moved the dust and twigs next to you, the whooshing sound somewhat tranquil as it filled the silence. It wasn’t awkward like you thought it’d be, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was a place right in the middle, but it was better than your past three interactions with him. 

You tried to squint, trying to make out his features. He was attractive, that much you could admit. Even if you met him before seeing a man became a rare occurrence you would have had the same thought. His frame was sturdy, lean, and tall. He filled out his clothes rather nicely, and his face was passive and a grimace away from forming a scowl, but you could tell he once used to laugh a lot more if the smile lines told you anything. 

You wondered if the name Emi had anything to do with him losing his smile. 

“Tell me something about yourself then.” 

A shocked laugh threatened to bubble out of your throat at his sudden statement. 

“W-Why?” You stuttered out with a laugh, confused as you shifted where you were sitting, tilting your head a little bit to the side, wishing he’d move so you could see clearly just who it was you were talking to. 

“You know too much about me,” He said as if it was obvious, shrugging his shoulders as he set the metal pipe down gently to not make any noise, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you can’t sleep and are learning to talk more.” 

A part of you wondered if he was being genuine or trying to be snarky. 

But you just snorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of this as you threw your hands, looking up as you thought for a second for something interesting yet boring enough to shut him up so you could have some quiet time. 

“I can only eat semi-sweet or dark chocolate. Milk’s a little too sweet for me.” 

You could hear a snort in response, probably the first you’d ever heard from him as he shuffled around a little bit, his shadow moving a little bit closer to where you were sitting. The ray of moonlight illuminated part of his face, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you watched him rest his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“Seems like we’re complete opposites there,” He admitted, his lips threatening to tug into a smile, but he controlled it as if he didn’t want you to see that part of his hidden emotions.

“Then I’ll give you any milk chocolate bars I find.” 

He huffed, a part of his lip caught under his teeth as he considered the thought. 

“Is that good enough for you?”

He shook his head quickly, comically as you sighed, some sleep finally settling in as you rub at your forehead. You could feel the headache coming from a mile away. 

“Need something more personal,” He retaliated, moving a little bit so that he wasn’t putting all his weight on his arms, his toned chest moving as he resituated himself. You tried to not make it obvious that you were staring, “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Well now you’ve gone too far,” You say with a little laugh, the most genuine one you’ve had in a while. You miss the way his face almost mirrors yours, the edges of his lips threatening to pull up into a grin as you smile. “I like yellow.” You finally answer, your smile faltering as you think back. 

“Any particular reason or do you just like the color of piss?”  

“I had this perfume bottle, I got it for my birthday when I was twelve. The actual perfume smelled disgusting but the bottle itself was this glass-stained yellow, a soft yellow that I haven’t seen anywhere else.” You explained, bringing one leg up to your chest, and wrapping your arms around it to steady yourself. 

“What about you?” He shook his head, waving his pointed finger around, clearly not answering a question yet. 

“No, still on you. Where were you when this all started?” Gojo asked, and the jump from the previous question to this one took you off guard. If you were counting correctly he had two more facts above you than you did for him, but you indulged him, having nothing better to do with your time. 

“At home. I was watching TV with my dad when they broadcasted that signal,” You paused, the memories flooding back as you tried to blink them away. The car, your neighbors who were already infected, “You?” 

For a second you thought he wasn’t going to answer but he shifted, running a hand through his hair as he whistled quietly, thinking.

“I was in a lecture hall.” 

“For your doctor lectures?” 

He chuckled, for the first time since you’ve known him, shaking his head as he eventually nodded, knowing that you were probably never going to give up the information. You watched as he rested his chin on his palm, the new angle giving you a better view of him and you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze. 

“Yeah,” He couldn’t fight the smile anymore, his face turning softer as he smirked, “For my doctor lectures.”

“Go sleep,” He said after a heavy beat of silence, his voice softer as he watched you wipe at your eyes, a big yawn escaping your mouth as you blinked tiredly, “It’s almost morning.” 

You shake your head, wondering why a part of you was disappointed that he was right. As you stood up, wiping the dust from your pants as you shuffled your way around some bricks, finding your way back to your sleeping bag (with more difficulty than you’d like to admit), and threw it over your body. You could feel his eyes burning on your back, but you shut your eyes and pretended that you were asleep.

A couple of weeks after that night and you wondered if you had somehow passed a test.

While he still didn’t speak much to you, he wasn’t cautious nor weary when he did. 

Gojo still didn’t laugh or smile much, but his little grin was less guarded when you spoke to him. Maybe it was to save you the pity of your awful jokes, but a part of you felt happier knowing he warmed up to you a bit.

“You just haven’t heard these puns yet,” You argued one day, pulling out the book you found when you scavenged through an abandoned store about a week ago. It had water damage and some of the words you could barely read, “Okay, okay, what about this one? 3.14% of sailors are Pi-rates. Huh?” You looked up at him, wiggling your eyebrows only to see him with a disgruntled look, staring down at you as he shook his head in disappointment. 

“None of these should have been published.” He argued, and although he sounded disgruntled, there was an edge of him holding back a laugh. 

“Oh, I like this one!” You exclaimed with a giggle, Vera looking back at the two of you as she smiled to herself, nudging at Geto so he could see too, “What do you use to cut a Roman Emperor's hair?” He didn’t say anything for a second so you lightly kicked his shin, waiting for an answer.

“I don't know, scissors?” You grinned, shocked at how close he was.

“Almost, the answer is Ceasers,” You revealed with a giggle, showing Gojo the book as he sighed, rubbing at his forehead in faux annoyance. You put the book in your back pocket, careful when you fold it, wanting to save the rest for later, “Don’t worry, I’m saving the best for last.” You patted the pocket as he laughed, excusing himself as Geto called for him to check something out on the map. Your foot almost slipped when you walked on some grass, wet from the rain last night, and his hands soft out to grip your elbows, steadying you as you thanked him. Your skin felt like it was on fire from where his lingering touch was, and you looked away, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the embarrassment. 

“Y/n, can you come here for a ‘sec?” Anna called your name, ushering you over as you looked around to see her walking a little bit behind you. And you made your way over to her, readjusting your backpack as your shoulder sunk a bit from how heavy it was. 

She offered you a small smile, though you could tell she was thinking a lot of things through. You noticed that when that line appeared down the middle of her brow, it meant that she was deep in thought. That, or she was mad. But with the way her fingers danced on her arms in discomfort and her eyes darted around the rest of the group, you wanted to bet that she was going through it.

“What’s up?” You finally asked, just hoping there weren't any more questions about how difficult it was traveling alone.

“I’ve seen that you and Gojo have gotten closer, w-which is great! Don’t get me wrong!” She sputtered, shooting you a quick grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “But I feel like I should let you know…” 

When she didn’t finish you raised a brow, wondering what could possibly be so bad. 

“Do,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her body, deciding to just get it over with, “Do you remember that one night? In that apartment lobby?” 

You almost laughed. How could you forget?

“Yeah…vaguely,” That was a fat lie. It was all you could think about in these following weeks. Your conversation with both Vera and Gojo plagued different parts of your mind for different reasons. 

“Listen, I couldn’t help but overhear ‘Ver, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…” She trailed off, gnawing on her lip as her eye twitched, “I heard her say Emi and I know she brushed it off but I feel like you deserve to know about it. You’ve been with us long enough so that I can trust you with this.”

Was it really that easy? You didn’t say anything, hoping the slight excitement and anticipation on your face wouldn’t scare her away as you gave her the time she needed until she continued. She took in a deep breath and started.

“I’d known Emi for a long time now - gosh, probably over a decade at this point. She was nice, but she had her own flaws, but she was my only friend so I ignored them. When this,” She motioned her arms around you, “Whole thing happened, she was the only one I had. We were planning on going to a quarantine zone in Tokyo but it fell almost immediately, so we just went wherever we could.

“We met up with those guys a couple of months later. Maybe two, two and a half years ago?” She thought back, shaking her head because it wasn’t important to fixate on, “And they took us in. They were all really nice, including ‘Toru.

“After a while, he and Emi got closer, and for that while, it was just a fling that would pass the time. But they cared for each, it was pretty obvious. Or from what she told me, it sounded like they did. But,” She bit her cheek, playing nervously with her fingers as she looked up at you, “it was hard. They fought. A lot,”  She gave a humorless laugh as she looked back on it, “Day in and day out. They fought over the smallest of things. I swear, I don’t know how-” She stopped, apologizing as she got back on track, “Anyways, what I’m trying to get at is that one of these fights got bad. I can’t even remember what it was about. Food? Maybe clothes? Doesn’t matter. It got big and they said some shit neither of them meant, but Emi left. She said she was leaving, but nobody believed her. She always said shit like that. But she did, she left and we didn’t see her for a couple of days.

“‘Toru was really worried, never seen him so scared before. He went out looking for her and came back a week later. He told us she was bitten, late in the stages of infection. He said he had to…” She trailed off, voice catching in her throat and you quickly looked for a tissue, as she gratefully accepted it.

“I see the way you try to make him laugh, I know, but Emi took that part of him. He wasn’t the same after she left, and I don’t think he ever will be. So just - don’t get your hopes up when you’re around him, okay?”

“I, um, okay…?” But you didn’t even know what you were agreeing to. You just knew that Anna nodded, thankful that you heard, and the two of you made your way back to your group. Maybe it was the way your face had lost all the laughter it had just a couple minutes ago, or that Anna somehow managed to see what you were trying to do, but Gojo glanced at you, his brows furrowing together in slight worry. 

You don’t know why the information affected you so much. It could have been just from how shocking it was to hear it, or the fact that Anna could tell that you were trying to get him to smile more. It made sense, the more you thought about why he was the way he was, but you still felt a part of you crumbling at the thought. Even if you never met Emi, you couldn’t definitely feel her presence after she was gone. 

What? He mouthed, altering his steps so that he could weave around Geto to get closer to you. But you shook your head, reassuring him to stay where he was as you gave him a curt nod and a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

It’d be over soon, you told yourself. After you get to the camp in Takayama, it’d be big enough to go your separate ways. You’ll forget the last five years, forget everything you’ve gone through, and start something new.

If not, you’d rather just get bitten and get this hell over with. 

“What’d she tell you?” 

Gojo cornered you when they were all asleep, the tall trees surrounding you casting shadows over his face. You didn’t light a fire this time, Geto saying it’d be safer if you just used flashlights instead. You knew the infected had bad eyesight, relying on sound more than anything, but that didn’t mean raiders couldn’t see. 

There was no point in lying, he’d sniff it out immediately if you did, so you shrugged, glancing to the side as you blindly moved around leaves, trying to be quiet to get away from the group in case any of them were awake. 

“Nothing important,” You muttered, glad it was dark for once so that he couldn’t see your reaction and vice versa. 

“Bullshit,” His voice was low, your eyes slightly widening in surprise at his reaction, “Wouldn’t have been nothing if you looked like that afterwards.”

Though you could barely see anything, you could feel his presence. He took up a lot of space, and you could practically feel how his hands were only a little distance away from yours. His fingers were inches away from your wrist, and you knew that because when you moved you could feel the light indent, a slight burn as if he’d set your skin aflame. 

“Nothing important to you.” You specify, crossing your arms across your chest as you heard him scoff, his jaw ticking as he prodded at his cheek with his tongue.  If only your past self could see you now, arguing with a man who you thought only ever had two emotions he used on and off. 

He waited, hands on his hips as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, hanging his head down for a second until he looked back up. 

“Green.” 

You pause, brows creasing as you huff out a laugh. 

“What?” 

“Green,” He repeated, “That’s my favorite color.” When it dawns on you what he’s doing you have to contain the giggle that slipped past your lips, covering your mouth when your hands as you continue to laugh. 

“Why’re you laughing?” He asks, his voice genuinely confused as you laugh more, holding onto a tree trunk to steady yourself, “W-what?” But you hear the soft inflection of a laugh in his voice now, almost as if he is trying to control it as you wave your hands, trying to make it stop but you just hit his hands in the process.

“So you refuse to tell me and you hit me in the process?” Any seriousness has dropped from him completely and you laugh through your hands, trying to apologize but your cheeks hurt. It wasn’t that funny, really you don’t know why you’re reacting this way, but it’s that feeling when you start laughing, and it grows out of control for no reason. 

“I-I’m sorry!” You wheeze out, trying to find his hands to apologize but he brings them to your mouth. It was dark so you couldn’t see, but his eyes darted around, suddenly realizing how loud you were being. 

“Sssh, be quiet.” He hissed out, and you giggled again, licking the palm of his hand as he gave a muted yelp, bringing it close to his chest as he wiped it on his pants. He looked back up at the outline of your shadow, glaring. 

“You’re a fucking child, y’know that?” He groaned, but his words didn’t quite match what his face was because his eyes softened at the sound of your laugh, carefree as you failed at trying to control it. 

“Admit it, I’m funnny,” You drawled out, laughing as you hunched over a little bit, waving your finger around somewhere near his face, “You’re laughinggg because I’m funnny.” You stated, tugging on his fingers playfully, and he snorted, gently swatting your hand away as he sighed. 

“You’re insufferable is what you are.” Is what Gojo finally landed on.

“Tell me something more personal and I might tell you.” You poked his chest, repeating his own words back to him as you leaned back on the tree. You had no intentions of revealing what Anna told you, but you wanted to see how far he’d go to know. 

“You’re impossible,” He muttered, running a hand through his hair, debating whether or not it was even worth it to tell you something when he knew damn well you weren’t going to give any information up.

“I’m scared.” He heaved in a sigh and you cut him off with a chortle. 

“Everybody’s scared-” 

“Of ending up alone.” He finished, brow raising as your laugh quickly died down, some fort of satisfactory grin that didn’t mirror the gloom in his eyes made its way onto his face as he asked, “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No,” You quickly say, rubbing at your jaw as you take a set back, easing on the trunk as you duck your head down in embarrassment, crunching some dead leaves under your boot, shame riding up your bones as you lamely shrug, “Just wasn’t expecting that.” You mutter, looking up at him from the corner of your eye. 

He chuckles, taking a step closer, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“What? Expecting me to say spiders? The dark?” You can feel his slender fingers a hairs distance away from your arms, careful not to touch you, but still close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“No,” You shudder, both from the cold and from him, “Thought you were ‘gonna say med school or something.”

He lets out a big groan, hands gingerly gripping your elbows as his head falls on your shoulder, fighting his smile as you laugh again, muffling it with his coat as you gently pat his back. 

“Where do fruits go for vacation?” Your hand stalled on his back, feeling his slumped form take in a deep, steadying breath. 

“Where?”

“Pear-is.” You heard him mumble something on your shoulder, giggling as he shook his head in mock dismay. But this was different than all the last times, you could tell. His back shook a little, and he refused to look up. 

You didn't comment on the tears that began to stain your shirt, or his quivering chest every time he breathed. So you wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing a little bit, feeling his arms snake around your waist as he tugged you just a little bit closer. 

Even though it didn’t feel like a lot of time had passed, it had almost been six months since you began traveling with them. The journey would have been far faster if any of the cars worked, but Takayama was only a few weeks away. According to Geto. 

Gojo walked up next to you, shoving something in the pocket of your coat. You look at him from the side of your eye, digging it out to see a chocolate bar as he looks away, a little smirk on his face as you lightly elbow his side. 

“Can literally hear your stomach begging for something,” He teased, his face stoic but his voice lighthearted as you laugh, grateful even if you didn’t show it as you opened it up, noting that it was dark, telling him thanks with a mouthful of chocolate. 

“Want some?” You offered, holding the bar out as he declined, shrugging, “Suit yourself.” You muttered, mouth full of the sweet as you finished the rest of it. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips stained with the chocolate as Gojo dryly swallowed, averting his gaze as he looked somewhere else, his cheeks colored light pink. 

“I think we’re the chosen ones,” Geto stated, walking around freely as he pointed to all of you including himself. Your group made it out of the forest a couple of days ago, so he’s been living his life, trying to enjoy the run-down towns as much as he could before you went into the forests again until you reached Takayama. 

“God, you’re so fucking stupid Suguru,” Vera said, shoving past him as she rolled her eyes, taking a bite out of her protein bar as she shared a knowing look with you, the two of you laughing as Geto tried to explain himself. 

“No, no, hear me out. Aside from me, you and ‘Toru, y/n, and Anna come from different places. But we all somehow found each other, and as a group, are going to the chosen place.” He concluded, wiggling his eyebrows as everybody else just groaned as he went on another one of his tangents. 

“No, really, think about it,” He tried to catch up to her pace, walking backward so that he could also look at all of you when he spoke, “We’ve all been picked through natural selection. These past five, six, years and we survived them. We-”

He stopped, and all of you stopped in your tracks when you heard the dreaded sound. 

Clicking. Groaning. 

“Oh fuck,” Geto stopped, everybody, drawing out their weapons as you tried to figure out where it was coming from. Your heart was rattling inside your ribcage, your hands fumbling as you tried to find your gun. It had been so long since you’d encountered an infected that you were naively beginning to think that they had just disappeared. 

“It’s okay,” Gojo muttered, glancing over to you as he held his hand on yours, trying to calm your shaking down a bit, “You’re ‘gonna be okay.” He was so sure of it that you almost believed his words. 

But long gone was the carefree attitude as the clicking got louder both in volume and in amount. 

“Shit,” Gojo looked over to Vera, “How many d’you think there is?” The clicking got louder, your fingers trembling over the trigger as you looked at the abandoned city hall, finally locating where it was coming from. He told you that she was the best shooter they had, and she was far more confident in taking clickers and runners down than anybody else was.

“Too many,” She called back, eyes darting from everywhere, looking for somewhere to escape from, “Fuck, we ‘gotta split.” You guys were in an alleyway, stuck between taking the road and going through a hole in one of the walls. But from where you could tell, taking the road was only going to direct you toward the infected. The wall still gave them an opening to wherever you guys planned to run from, so in some way, you were cornered. 

“What?” He called out, taking a step back, his brows furrowed in confusion, “No way, we can’t-”

“Listen to me. Here, take my map,” She threw it over to him and he caught it, mouthing confusion but she shook her head, “Suguru and I can hold them off for right now, but you take Anna and y/n. If we can’t find-”

“We’re not going to fucking leave!” He shouted back, raising his voice to be heard over the number of infected, his cheeks tinged pink as you nodded, not trusting your words as you felt your stomach churn. 

“If we can’t find you, meet us in Takayama! Don’t look back, just keep running north!” She motioned down the street, “I can radio with Anna, don’t worry!” She was trying to shove him but he wouldn’t move. 

“Vera, I’m not leaving you guys-” But he was cut off by an animalistic roar, everybody’s attention shooting back to the noise, his words dying down in his throat as you saw a glimpse of the infected. 

You would never get over the way they looked. You thought you’d be used to it by now, but it never fails to make your hands clammy and you're overall nauseous. They had large fungi popping out of their cranium, their clothes all battered and bloody. They ran so fast that you wondered if they were created just to outrun the human race, but now wasn’t the time for it. All you could hear was their and Vera’s screams. 

“Satoru,” She took his arm, holding it in a tight grasp as her eyes darted from him to them, seething from between her teeth, “Take them. Don’t - don’t regret it like you did last time. You couldn’t… but…you can save them. Go. Please.” 

He glared at her, eyes hiding a different meaning than what his face showed, nostrils flaring but he stopped. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, muttering out a barely audible I’m sorry, looking at Geto as he gave him a small nod, holding his position down as he waited to buy you guys some time. 

He grabbed your wrist, urging Anna to follow him as Vera and Geto began to block you guys.

“W-wait, no, no, let go of me!” You tried to wrangle out of his iron grip but he was insistently dragging you away as you kicked, your eyes welling up, fear overtaking your body as they ran, coming closer and closer to the five of you as Gojo tried to lead you through the hole in the wall.

“Go with him, please, we’ll be okay,” Vera urged as Geto began firing, memories, similar moments cursing through your mind as you got the worst sense of deja vu. You almost felt like collapsing had it not been for Gojo’s steady hand, leading you away. 

You cried out for them one last time but he already pulled you through, Anna not too far behind as you held onto him for support, your mouth open as you looked back at him, slowly beginning to realize what happened. 

A couple of hours later and you couldn't feel your legs, wordlessly putting Gojo in charge of finding a house to stay at to stay the night. 

It was in some run-down town, but many of the homes are still standing. It was probably some of the best pieces of architecture you’ve seen so far, meaning that most of the paint was still on and the furniture wasn’t entirely moth-eaten.

The one Gojo picked was at the end of a cul de sac, seemingly standing unharmed. Vines grew uncontrollably from the sides, and the house was caked with dirt, but you’d take it. He scooped it out, making sure there weren’t any infected hiding in any of the dark rooms, but he gave you two the okay signal and you camped out there for the night.  

It was stocked with water and canned food, some chairs knocked down and carpets scrunched up as if the previous owners were trying to leave in a hurry. All the rooms seemed fine, and you just picked a random one as you threw your bag in, not caring as you made your way downstairs to where the rest of them were. 

You found them in the living room, the shutters closed, hints of the afternoon sun peeking through. Gojo glanced over at you, his eyes running over your body, quickly scanning to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You made your way to a chair, rubbing your hands over your face as if that could wake you up from this living nightmare. 

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay.” Anna said, more to convince herself than the rest of you, nodding as she said it again, but with no confidence. It wasn’t night yet, but Vera still hadn’t radioed in, anticipation deep in your throats as your wall stared at the portable radio Anna placed on the coffee table. 

Gojo sat there, his legs spread out, an elbow on each knee as he rubbed at his mouth, eyes distant, lost, as he stared at nothing. 

You could only imagine how he feels. No matter the sorrow you felt, he felt it tenfold. You’d only known them for a couple of months, a year at most, but he’d known them their entire lives. His shoulders sunk as if the guilt he was feeling was already pushing down on him. 

Even though you didn’t know much about Emi, the hurt he carried from her was visible and inevitable. You didn’t know just how much something like this would change him if he’d ever forgive himself if something were to happen to them. 

You cleared your throat, not able to bear it anymore as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Despite whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for getting us out. I don’t think I could have walked, let alone fought, so…thanks.” You address Gojo, watching as Anna nodded in agreement, shooting him a smile that quickly died down when she saw his face.

He dropped his hands, his eyes shining with a different sort of gleam as you took a step back, your brows and eyes squinting at the odd look. 

“Vera and Geto might be dead. They might be dead because I was too fucking scared to stay and do anything to help. We don’t know where the fuck we are… and you’re thanking me?” 

You stuttered, confused as you shared a glance with Anna as she slowly moved from her seat. 

“I-I, well, I’m not trying to undermine what they did,” Your head tilted, your voice gentle, knowing that he was surely dealing with every possible ounce of guilt and anger under the moon right now, wishing you just stayed quiet. But you’d already opened your mouth so you had to continue, “I’m just saying thanks because you helped us. That’s all-”

“Help,” He repeated, giving an emotionless laugh as he stood up, shaking his head as his hair followed his every movement, “I ran away. I didn’t help.” 

“‘Toru, she’s right, just - just calm down, come on,” Anna interjected, her eyes darting from him to you, offering you an apologetic smile on his behalf. 

“She has no idea what she’s talking about. Fuck,” His voice broke, looking away as he tried to wipe his tears, “It’s like….” He didn’t finish but you knew he was going to say It’s like Emi, judging from the way Anna tried to comfort him. 

“You’re,” You said slowly, not wanting to anger him any more than he already was, “You’re right. Most of the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I understand, and I know it’s not easy and-”

“You know? You know? Fuck y/n, what do you know? What could possibly make you understand?” You’ve never seen him like this, never had the honor of having his words cut you, sawing at your skin until they made you bleed. 

You scoffed, not knowing if he was being serious, but he stared at you waiting for an answer. 

“Let me see,” You give a meaningless laugh, wiping at your eyes, trying your best to not cry in front of him, not wanting to show him that his words didn’t affect you the way that they truly did, “I thought I was allowed to understand after my dad killed himself. Or maybe it was when my friend tried to kill me because I ate her fucking can of tuna,” You paused, choking on a sob, “O-or when my group left me in the middle of fucking nowhere, saying I was dead weight,” You sniffled, your voice wavering as you shook your head, pointing a finger at Gojo’s chest as you stared at his blank face.

“Just because you’ve been through shit doesn't mean that I haven’t. So - so don’t tell me that I don’t understand, because I do. It’s just, I don’t go treating people I know like shit just because of it.” A tear trickled down your cheek, hanging on your chin before it splattered on the ground. 

Your chest heaved, hands trembling as you heard Anna mutter a muffled oh my god. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want any of their sympathies. But after so many years of carrying it around silently just for him to say that you don’t understand opened up the floodgates. 

You went to say something else, opening your mouth before you shut it again, lips wobbling as you shook your head, ducking it as you made your way for the stairs. You tried to zone out Anna’s calls for you to come back as you found the room you assigned yourself and shut the door with a loud slam, rattling the house.

Anna came by, asking if you were hungry, but you just brushed her off, saying that you’d come down to eat later. 

It was true, you couldn’t stomach anything right now, but you didn’t want to see anybody after that. 

You paced around the room, doing anything to occupy your mind and get rid of the thoughts coursing through your head. You packed your bag, which wasn’t even yours, you wanted to guess that in the rush of leaving you accidentally packed Geto’s because yours sure as hell didn’t have a pack of cigarettes and condoms in it, (you’d put all your money on the fact that him and Vera were hooking up), unpacked, and re-packed it. You folded some clothes lying around, washed your face with the water from the bottles you found, and tried to freshen up. Your eyes were still a little puffy and red, but you knew it would go away quickly. 

You looked through the closet and did anything you could think of. You didn’t really have the heart to take anything, knowing that somebody cared for these things at one point, but you snooped around, having nothing better to do. 

From what you could deduce, a teenager probably lived in the room. Band posters were plastered on the walls, the bed had some stuffed animals still left on it. You could remember the initial broadcast saying to take only what was necessary, so it made sense why the closet was mainly empty but the other aspect of the room seemed untouched. 

You looked at some of the books they had, pulling them out of the shelves as you read the titles. Some you knew, some you didn’t. The window adjacent to the bookshelf showed you an outside view of the neighborhood, the moon shining bright as you relied on that and your flashlight to move around. 

As you went to put a book back you heard a knock at your door, startling you as you dropped the book on the ground. You grumbled in annoyance, glancing at it and then back to your book. 

“I’m still not hungry,” You called out, bending down to grab it as you sighed, “But thanks,” You put it back where it was, wiping at your face as you navigate around the bed, going to open the door to let her in, “Hey, have you heard anything from…” You trailed off, not expecting to see a taller figure in Anna’s place. 

You met his eyes, the same ones that managed to knock the air out of your lungs. His gaze softened upon the sight of your face, but you wouldn’t let that dictate your feelings. No, you refused. So instead, you quickly gathered yourself, squinting your eyes as you went to shut the door, not quick enough as he was able to wedge his foot in between, whimpering a bit as you still tried to slam it shut with it in the way. 

“Ow, fuck, wait,” His hand gripped the side of the door, and you rolled your eyes, sniffing once as you let him open it himself, knowing that he’d just find another way inside if you blocked this one, “Listen,” He invited himself in, a hint of pleading in his voice as he looked at you, “Anna got Vera’s message. They're,” He sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit, “They’re fine. Little shakin’ up, but they’re gonna be okay. Said to meet up with them at the camp.” 

Your eyes and mouth slightly opened, your anger with him disappearing for a second as you smiled softly to yourself. 

“That’s great,” You breathed out, not knowing how to handle this, almost all the stress leaving your bones as you gave yourself a moment to relax, “Great news.” You gave him a curt smile, glancing at the door, wondering if that was all he came here for. 

His eyes traveled from your face, stalling on your puffy lids as he slightly grimaced. He looked around the room, noting all the décor, posters, and memorabilia. You could tell he was struggling to find something to say, opening his mouth only to close it just as quickly. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” You start, your hands hovering over his chest as you try to push him out, “But I wanna be by myself right now, so…” You nodded to the door, waiting for him to get the hint and go.

“Are you leaving?” He asked suddenly, his brows furrowed, creasing down the middle as glanced at your face at your packed bag behind you. You saw his lips trembling, hands moving up to gently cup your elbows, almost as if he needed to, or else he’d crumble over. 

“What?” You look back confused as to what he was talking about, shaking your head, “I was jus-” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, so so sorry sweetheart, I swear, I d-didn’t know you went t-through all that shit,” His voice cracked, his legs moving faster than his body as you backed up against the bed, alarmed at his sudden change in mood, “Even if I did, I-I should never have said that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, please, I didn’t mean anything I said. I was talkin’ out of my ass and being the biggest fuckin’ dick ever.” Gojo’s voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears as you almost tripped, glad the bed was behind you as you fell onto it, the springs squeaking at the sudden movement. 

You watched as a giant of a man sank to his knees, grabbing your hands and holding them to his chest as his eyes watered, his lip wobbling as he almost pleaded for you to look at him and to hear what he was trying to say. 

“Look, I’m really, really sorry,” He crouched down, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “Please don't leave. I’ll shut up for the rest of the way there and you’ll never-” 

“I’m not leaving,” You say with a small laugh, confusion laced in your voice, “I was bored so I packed. ‘S not even my bag, think I got Geto’s or Vera’s on accident.” You shrugged as you watched his face change. Morphing as he shut his mouth, his hands still trembling as realization washed over him, slowly only leaving embarrassment. 

“Really?” He asked, still not letting go of your hands you nodded slowly, heart beating rapidly in your rib cage as you waited for him to say something else. 

“Oh...” He the relief on his face is replaced with something different, “Okay,” He took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of your hands as he looked at the floor, some of his hair falling in his face as he finally looked back up, giving you a small apologetic smile, “Sorry, I didn’t…” He couldn’t finish, moving quickly to stand up, mumbling something to himself as he went for the door, stopping seconds before he opened it. 

“‘Toru?” 

His fingers danced over the doorknob, not turning back despite his every nerve telling him to look back at you. But deep down, he knew that if he did, it would all come crumbling down. That the wall he built so highly for himself would crack, and he’d have to face the realization that he cared for you. Cared so deeply for you that seeing your face, your eyes puffy from crying because of his words would be worse than if a scolding knife was to pierce his heart. Because no matter how hard he tried to convince his feeble mind that you didn’t matter to him, you did, and he could no longer hide behind a mask and pretend that you didn’t. 

“Now that I think about it I think you would have made a shit doctor.” You say, crossing your arms across your chest as you watch him turn around, his lips red, looking like he’d been repeatedly chewing on it. 

His hand fell from the doorknob, taking three quick steps to get back to where you were, his hands quickly going up to hold your face, eyes scanning yours as if waiting for you to say anything. But you couldn’t, not with the way he was staring at you. He always did a spectacular job of whisking your words away from a single glance. 

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his nose almost touching yours as your hands traveled slowly up his back, feeling your heart beating in your throat, “Whenever I see your face,” His thumb runs over the corner of your mouth, eyes falling on your lips, “I don’t what to do. And then you open your mouth and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry o-or kiss you. And,” He sighed, a hand going behind your head so that you could look up at him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without your gorgeous face, your pretty eyes, your laugh, your kind, kind heart. I’ll spend a fucking lifetime making up for all the shit I’ve done if it means you’d forgive me.” He was a breath away from your lips, if either one of you were to make a single movement it’d be over.

“Relax,” You say with a little laugh, your lashes fluttering on your cheek as you take a step back closer to the bed, “I’m not gonna make you grovel or anything. But if you’re offering something as forgiveness…” You trail off, not knowing how to word words as you push his head closer to yours. Your fingers play with his hair, tangling them back and forth to make little curls, your head moving on its own as you try not to give a stupid giddy smile. 

He leans in, finally closing that pesky gap between the two of you as you let out a little gasp until you melt against his chest, slowly working your lips against his. 

It’s hot, you don’t know how else to describe it. Weeks, months even, of pent-up tension are adding up here at this moment. 

He’s so gentle when he cradles your face, afraid you’d crumble away if he held you with any more pressure. But his kiss is anything but, aggressive and fast, not wanting to slow down as he tried to commit the feel of you to memory. 

He nips at your lips, now plumper and shiny with spit, pulling away slightly as he cradles his face to yours. His hands tug you into his body, cradling your jaw as he smiles, his eyes lidded as he looks down at you. 

Your hands are on his chest, slightly tugging at it as his smile grows, his cheeks all blushed out as you giggle, somewhat intoxicated by the feel of him. You’d imagine what he’d be like, sure, but the way he kissed or looked at you was nothing your imagination could have ever conjured up.

“Swear to god, if I ever say stupid shit you slap me, okay? Knock some sense into me,” He muttered, holding your cheeks, looking at you as if you had strung up the moon and the stars, and you probably did if you told him so. 

“‘M not gonna hit you, maybe just tell you some stupid puns till you realize what you’ve done.” You tease, watching as his head disappeared, your laugh turning into a muted moan as he licks a stripe across the expanse of your throat, gently biting down on your pulse point as he soothed it with a sloppy kiss. 

“‘Toru,” You can get out, collapsing on the bed as he gingerly pushes you onto it, feeling lightheaded as you watch him kiss down your arms, your hands, any area of naked skin he could find. It was exhilarating the way his lips felt on your skin. 

“You ‘wanna take that shirt off f’me?” He muttered, hands traveling up your stomach, nimble fingers dancing under the cup of your bra, “Or d’you want me to stop?” He’s slow and patient as you quickly shake your head, already getting to work at shedding off anything stopping him as he chuckles slowly, the sound just causing you to grow even wetter. You expertly unhook your bra from your chest, watching as it falls down into your lap, suddenly aware that your top half is fully bare to him. 

But he doesn’t say anything, his body almost malfunctioning at the sight of your bare tits. You almost go to cover them, conscious of his heavy stare, but he gently grabs your wrists, pushing them aside as he moves closer to you, his breath hitting your collarbone as he stifled a groan. 

“Fuck,” He says, not even fully paying attention as he quite literally goggles at your breast, his fingers tugging at your nipples, thumbing at them until they’re slightly swollen, letting his hands run over them as he feels his cock straining in his pants, “S-shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers, glancing up at you only to see your head thrown back, finger grasping his as you try to make him work faster, pushing them down to the buttons of your jeans as he chuckles, patting your waist once as if to tell you he understands. 

He gets to work, quickly getting them off of you, your underwear with it, eyes darkening as he notes your slick between your two puffy lips, gripping onto your thigh with every possible amount of self-restraint he has. 

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll just tell you a bad pun n-now to get it over with. Fuck just - just touch me already!” You threaten, glaring at him as he snorts, fingers traveling up to cup your cunt as you suddenly gasp, your teasing tone dropping at the euphoric sensation.

“Where?” His thumb slowly rubs at your clit, using some of your slick as he goes at his own pace, enjoying how you paw at his biceps, gripping onto them with every ounce of strength you could muster, “Here?” He asks, using two fingers to pry your pussy lips apart, nearly coming in his pants as he did so.

“This what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, his pointer finger traveling up your slit, gathering all of your wetness as he groans, slowly pushing it in, testing your limits as you let out a wanton moan at the feeling. 

“Yes, yes!” You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. He doesn’t need to be told twice to know that you’d probably wring him out to dry if he doesn’t pick up his pace. 

But he wants to be slow, not wanting to hurt you as he pushes it in, inch by inch, until he curls it, your eyes rolling back, holding onto his wrist for dear life as you wait to adjust to it. 

“F-feels so good, hmm!” You squeal, your lips barely opening as he pushes the second one in, your words cut off by another moan, whining for him to go faster. You’ve been deprived for so long that you can’t even feel embarrassed at the needy way you yearn for him and his skilled fingers and touch. 

You’ve only ever been with one guy before, and he knew nothing about the female antonymy so you don’t really have much to compare him to, but Gojo knew what he was doing. He listened to your every sound, noting which places made your toes curl and eyes cross, becoming more and more familiar with your body. His white hair fell into his face as he paid attention to you, glancing up at your face every now and then to smile, wanting to make sure that you were okay. 

“Yeah? You’re squeezin’ me so much, fuck,” He starts pumping them in and out, the motion enough to make you go crazy, whining out pathetically as he picks up the pace a little bit, his thumb going to find you, “This pussy’s fuckin’ perfect, fuck, and she’s mine, y’hear?” He asks, only pumping into you faster, his thumb on your clit mirroring his ministrations as you cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to be so loud that your cries could travel through the walls. 

“F-fuck, just yours! Promise!” You say, agreeing to anything he said, babbling nonsense as you feel your stomach clench, your back arching as he takes in the beautiful sight of you sprawled out like this, wanting to take a mental image to commit it to heart.

“Hmm, ‘Toru, I’m gonna, fuck, gonna…!” You can’t even finish your sentence, mewling at the way his relentless motions never stopped. 

It’s only a couple of seconds before you cry out, his other hand clamping to your mouth to muffle your moans, seeing white as you fall back onto the mattress, your chest heaving with every breath you take as your orgasm runs through your body. It was the most intense thing you’ve ever felt, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you creamed around them, your legs shaking as you moaned out his name. 

He stops, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. 

“So fuckin’ stunning,” He says under his breath, bringing his fingers shining with your essence up to his lips as he sucks them clean, his eyes fluttering shut at your tangy taste, “Taste amazing too, sweetheart.” He takes his fingers out of his mouth, crawling up to your body, tapping on your lips so that they’d open. He pressed his fingers on your tongue, watching as you sucked on them, your eyes never leaving his. He moans, taking them out before he almost embarrasses himself by coming on the spot. 

But he stops when he feels his pants tighten around his crouch, wincing because he clearly didn’t think this through enough. His dicks feels like a heavyweight in his pants, and he can feel the strain. 

“What?” You sit up, worry lacing your features as you balance on your elbows, “What’s wrong?” You're now freaking out inside, thinking that he’s starting to regret this, or that he was drunk off the euphoria and now the realization is settling in.

“I don’t have a condom, and the only ones were in-”

“Geto’s bag?” You say with a chortle, pointing your chin at where the said bag was sitting, “Yeah, I know.” 

Gojo chuckles, patting your cheek as he presses a kiss to your lips, almost not wanting to break away as he tastes everything on them. The chapstick you put on that morning, the chocolate he gave you. Fuck, he can even taste your cum on them, and you have to give his chest a little nudge so that he doesn’t forget what he was going to do. 

He’s agile as he goes through the pockets, almost doing good at shedding off his clothes, grinning in triumph when he finally locates the pack. It gives you some time to really take in his features, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes rake over his torso, his defined chest that shines with sweat. You try your hardest not to linger longer on his dick, your mouth going dry at the sheer length of it. Despite him prepping you just a few minutes ago you still wondered how you’d be able to take him. 

“If you stare any harder you’re gonna make me blush.” He says, smirking as you discover you’ve been caught in the act. But the way he laughs boyishly at you quickly looking away makes up for it. 

“If you weren’t so pretty I wouldn’t be staring.” You counter, tracking him as he makes his way back to the bed, ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth as you swallow, moving so that your head rests on the board behind you as he grinned. 

“Me?” He cocks a brow, taking a couple of seconds to put the condom on his dick, his mushroom tip leaking with pre as she sucks in a breath at the feeling, hoping he wouldn’t nut too fast and embarrass himself when he was finally in you, “I’m gonna need you to take a hard, long look in the mirror then sweetheart.” 

You giggle, your eyes wrinkling around the edges as your cheeks glow. He moves above you, his own face plastered with a goofy smile at the sound of your laughter. He’d bottle it up if he could, save it for the days when he really needed to hear it. 

“No! I really mean it, you’re like, so fuckin’ hot, liked unbelievably hot.” You smile as he pecks your lips, grinning against his as he shakes his head in adorable defiance. 

“And I really mean it too,” He counters, his nose pressed against yours as you can’t help but bring him in for another kiss, your tongues meeting each other as he laps up your taste, kissing you so harshly that it knocked the wind right out of your lungs. 

When he pulls away a line of spit is connecting your lips to each other. Yours are swollen, almost bruised, but you welcome the slight sting, knowing what it was all for. After all, his are swollen and pink, so you slowly became drunk at the sight of it. 

His eyes travel to your tits and down to your stomach, gripping your waist as he kisses your collarbone, his hand gingerly rubbing up and down your skin, causing goosebumps to lie in their wake. 

He lined himself up with your entrance, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt his tip prod at your walls, and he groaned at the feeling, only imagining what it’d be like when he finally pushes through. 

“J-just fuck me already,” You whisper, your words circling through the two of you, “Please.” You add, and he shakes his head, knowing you’d never have to ask him when your honeyed words drove him to a near point of insanity. 

“Don’t have to beg sweetheart,” He says, pushing himself fully in, the two of you moaning out loud at the feeling.

You clamp down tightly on his dick, and despite him going in as slowly as you could he could feel you clenching around him. Your walls stretched to accommodate his size, and the slight pinch mixed with the godly feeling of having him fill you up almost caused you to pass out.

“Shit,” He can barely get it to pass his lips, finally bottoming out in your as your legs circle around his back, pulling him closer to your sweaty body as he places a hand near your head for leverage, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, squeezing me like that.” 

“Mmm, s’cause you’re so b-big,” You whine out, your nails raking down his back, leaving angry red lines. He stills, clenching his teeth as he tries to calm down, slowly pulling out before he slammed back into you. 

“Fuck!” You moan, holding onto his waist as he pistons into you, his dick shining with a mix of your own cum and wetness, glimmering in the limited light the moon offered. 

His hips slanted against yours, balls hitting your ass as he moved fast, like something in him just snapped, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His dick could reach that part in you that just made you see stars, hitting it repeatedly until you swore your back could take it. 

“Oh, god, you feel so fuckin’ good, fuckkk,” He drawls out, his head falling into the crook of your neck, panting as his hands curled in the sheets, “You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me sweetheart,” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he could. He trailed down your collarbone, all the way until he suckled on your breasts, pulling away so that he could give each equal attention. They glimmered with his spit, your areolas swollen from his constant motions. 

“Umph, ‘Toru, s’too much, o-oh!” You cried, the new angle he was at reaching even further and you questioned just how empty it was before him. He dragged through your walls, his thumb down at your clit, rubbing little circles as your eyes shut, too heavy with lust and you couldn’t even look down anymore, gripping onto his arms to stay afloat. 

“Just like that, perfect,” He talked you through it, one hand on your tit, the other busy with your clit, looking down to see his dick disappearing inside of you, going feral when he watched you becoming undone because of him, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for m-me, y’know that right?” And you dumbly nodded, not able to speak, unintelligible words tumbling out of your mouth instead.

You didn’t expect your release to build up so quickly just after you had your last one, but Gojo was too good, an expert in knowing what places would scratch you in just the right way. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your legs wrapping around him as you pulled him in even closer, tilting your head up so you could bring him in for another wet kiss. 

“M’gonna, fuck ‘Toru, m’gonna…” But you couldn’t finish, moaning against his lips as you came on his dick, his thumb not slowing down on your little nub as your legs shake from the feeling, eyes crossing as he smiles at the way you clamp down on him. 

“There you go, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna,” He tries to slow down but he can't, “Shit, shit, shit,” He stops, shooting his load into the condom as his hips stop, his chest heaving manically as he almost collapses onto your chest, your tits pressing against him as he takes a second to catch his breath.

The two of you can’t say anything, your hands wrapped tightly around his neck as you try to loosen up your body, your hair damp, the room stinking of sex and sweat as you try to come back to your senses. 

It doesn’t even feel real, but you watch through hooded eyes as he rises, pulling out of you as his dick hangs limp. He tugs the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he ties it, chucking it at a trash can he found near the desk as he looks back at you, giving you that same debonair smile that still managed to make your heart race despite everything. 

You throw a hand over your face, trying to hide it as he chuckles, giving your hips a firm squeeze as he kisses the side of your ear.

“I’ll be back, gonna get you some water ‘n clothes.” He says, tugging on his pants as he throws on his shirt laying across the floor, not bothering with any boxers as he winks at you, chuckling at the way you groan in embarrassment, tugging the covers over your naked body as if he hadn’t just seen you in your birthday suit. 

“And bring me some chocolate!” You call out, peeking your head out as he nods, shutting the door behind him as you look around, still trying to fathom what just happened. 

He reappears minutes later, one of his tees in hand, and a bottle with a bar in the other. He makes do with cleaning you up with a towel he found, wetting it with some water as he gently rubs it over your sensitive skin, apologizing when you wince, kissing the spots that are still tender. 

You're almost tapped out, too tired to see the lovesick look in his eyes when he pulls the shirt over your chest, laying you back down on the pillows as he rubs at your forehead, thanking his lucky stars for being able to see you look like this; so carefree and happy. 

There’s a lazy smile on your lips as you tug on his hand, not doing much work as you pull him closer to you. Although the bed wasn’t made to accommodate more than one person, he’d be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers. 

“Did you watch Star Wars?” You ask sleepily, holding his hands as you play with his fingers, hearing him snort at the fact that you were still keeping this up. But you still wanted to make him pay, even if he just gave you two of the most earth-shattering orgasms you’ve ever received. 

“Used to, why?” He turns you over so you could face him, bringing up one of his fingers so that he could carefully trace out your features. 

“‘Cause Yoda only one f’me.” You barely get out, giving a little giggle as he pretends to hate it, still kissing your cheek as you slink against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart lulling you to sleep. 

He follows you shortly after, his soft snores filling the room as you two sleep soundly. But in the dark, before he lets the sleep take a hold of him, he promises himself that he’d never let you go. He’d take you to Takayama, or wherever the fuck was necessary to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry again, wouldn’t want to see the tears that stained your cheeks because he swore he’d never been in such pain seeing you like that. You were his other half, and no amount of cheesy puns, terrible jokes, or loving questions was going to change that fact. Because he knew that once he held the world in his arms he wouldn’t trade any fucking thing to let it go. 

[memeadonna]

Astarion never felt more comfortable than in your arms. It was strange to him, a foreign thing after his enslavement. For centuries he’d had nobody. Now he had you, and you wanted to share these quiet moments with him. You didn’t look at him as the façade he showed the world, grinning and beautiful and confident. You also didn’t look at him as some broken thing to be pitied. He couldn’t stand being pitied.

That was why it was easy, he supposed. You didn’t hold him like he was breakable, yet you held the shattered pieces of him together in those tight, warm hugs. You let him rest his head on your chest and listen to your heart beating, warm beneath his freezing body. His corpse.

It shouldn’t have been this easy to love you. He didn’t think he was capable of such a thing anymore. But you were infuriatingly easy to love. You were terrifyingly close to his heart. If he lost you…

You let him sleep in your arms every night. On top of you, really, with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair. The fact that you let your guard down around a predator baffled him. He’d almost killed you the first time he claimed your neck, and yet you let him so close to it every night, draping a blanket over your bodies so he didn’t freeze you to death. He imagined you sharing a warm bed sometimes, curled up together on a cold winter’s day under a heavy duvet, entwined like strangling vines. And then he’d imagine what it would be like if he was alive, if he were the one warming you rather than the one stealing your heat. Rather than crushing you with his corpse. Would you want that more?

And then he stops thinking about it.

“Darling,” your voice shatters the silence, heavy with sleep as you gently card your fingers through his hair. “Mmmm… did you get too warm?” “Warm?” he repeats the word before he realizes he’s rolled off of you, and only his head remains on your chest. He wants to say something suave to explain it away, but nothing comes to mind. Your hands keep moving through his hair, and he stops himself from nuzzling into them. It’s so hard to be suave, to put up his façade when you break through it so easily. “Just worried I was too heavy,” he offers. It’s a half-truth, he supposes.

You pull him back on top of your body and wrap your arms around him again. “I sleep better with you in my arms,” your voice is still heavy with sleep, honest as you slur your tired words. “Helps my anxieties. Like a weighted blanket.” Your fingers explore their way up to the tips of his ears, gently massaging. Soothing him.

His eyes are wide despite your ministrations as he relaxes once more against you as you sink back into sleep. He wraps his arms around you and plays with your hair as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Oh.

Maybe he was broken. Maybe you were too. But your broken pieces fit so perfectly together that they almost formed one whole.

And maybe that was enough.

[pasukiyo]

TAKE YOU LIKE A DRUG

bodyguard!leon x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,576 warnings; smut, oral (f receiving) summary; he's tried time and time again to push you away, to make you understand that you don't know what it means to want him. but how can he resist the temptation when you come barreling into his hotel room in the late hours of the night?

 Three knocks against Leon’s hotel room door woke him. 

 With a grumble, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his knuckles digging the sleep away from his eyes. He blinked through the blurriness of his vision down at the phone resting on the nightstand, ‘2:30’ in big, bold white letters across the top of the screen. 

 Three more knocks on the door made him rise from the bed and pull a loose t-shirt over his head, muscles aching with each step he took. 

 Frustration laced his weary bones— for fuck’s sake, it was his night off. For just once, he’d like to get some real sleep.  

 The knocking began again and Leon swung open the door before the count could reach three. He blinked, his brow dipping as he took in the figure before him. Her name tumbled from his lips and it was as if his voice was what made her snap, surging forward into him, her lips sealing his in a kiss. 

 Leon nearly stumbled backwards when she threw herself on him, an arm wrapped around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek. He steadied himself with either of his hands on her hips, attempting to pull himself away but the desperation in her kiss dragged him right back in, as if the ocean’s waves had crashed over his head. 

 Leon had kissed her many times before, too many times to count. They’d kissed in secret, in many storage closets, in dressing rooms, behind many backs. They’d kissed in hotel rooms, rental homes, even in each other’s own bedrooms. They’d kissed slowly, they’d kissed hard, they’d taken their time, and they'd kissed until they had to force themselves away to make schedules on time. 

 She kissed him now with a desperation he’d never tasted, never felt from her before. Her kiss was mind-numbing, nearly enough to turn his brain to mush and make his knees feel weak. But the slick, oily voice somewhere in the back of his head reminded him that he couldn’t do this, that he knew this was wrong. The voice’s whispers infected his brain like a parasite and twisted like vines around his ears, its breath hot as it curled around his cheeks. 

 Leon peeled open his eyelids and pushed her away by the grip he had on her hips, either of their chests heaving. She blinked up at him, a furrow in her brow and a look so devastating in her eyes that he had to turn away, wiping her spit from his lips. 

 “I told you we can’t do this anymore,” Leon managed to say over his panting. 

 She shook her head, “I don’t care.”

 Leon, still with his back turned, closed his eyes, willing his heart to ease in his chest. This was the last thing he needed— temptation. Because that was all he saw whenever he looked at her. Temptation. A lust from deep within the pit of his belly for risk, a dark, twisted desire to corrupt her, to ruin her like he already was. There were many secrets he’d kept— from her, from others. Secrets he’d buried long ago and vowed he’d never let resurface— secrets he was too tempted to dig up from the grave he’d abandoned long ago the closer he let himself be drawn to her. 

 There was a whole life’s worth of baggage he knew he shouldn’t burden her with, knew she didn’t deserve to have to deal with. Leon Kennedy was wrong for her in every single sense— why couldn’t it just be simple to get her to understand that?

 Leon sighed her name again, “you should,” he shook his head. “You should also be asleep right now. You just played a two hour show and you have a photoshoot in seven—“

 “I don’t care, Leon.”

 His muscles tensed when her hand slithered around his elbow, casting a glare to the ground beneath their feet as she coiled like a snake around his body until she stood before him. She dipped her chin, leaning down until their eyes could meet. 

 “Why are you always depriving yourself?” She asked, her temper short and rising to the gleam in her eyes. “You always push me away but I know you better than you think, Leon.”

 Leon’s jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, shaking his head. Her bottom lip quivered at the intensity of his stare but still, she wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t let go. 

 “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he muttered. “And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t want me.”

 She huffed, pressing her lips together to tame her temper. “You don’t know that,” she shook her head and he scoffed, slipping his arm away from her grip. She followed when he turned to move away, like a leech in his skin he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. “Will you stop walking away from me for one goddamn second and just listen to me?”

 Leon turned, towering over her very suddenly, eclipsing whatever little light still remained in the room. She nearly stumbled back when he hovered over her, her lips parting in a gasp when her back hit the wall. Even still, Leon leaned closer, sleep a distant memory on his bones. 

 “When will it get through your thick fucking skull that I’m not good for you?” He practically hissed with a venom she felt straight in the chest. She blinked, and he continued, “you don’t know what it means to want me. You don’t know what kind of baggage you’re asking for.”

 There was a lump at the base of her throat that visibly bobbed when she swallowed and what might have been mistaken for fear began to show for what it really was— curiosity, desire, lust. 

 “I think I can discern what’s good or bad for me on my own,” she murmured, “I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”

 Leon blinked— was it even possible to get this girl to realize she was making a mistake?

 She balled the front of his t-shirt in a fist and tugged him into her, their breaths two ghosts in a waltz, the tips of their noses nearly touching. 

 “When will that get through your thick fucking skull?” She asked in a whisper, gaze flickering down to his lips and back. Leon’s heart thundered in his chest, the oily voice growing louder, barking its warnings. But the longer they stared at one another, the fainter the voice seemed to be until it drowned altogether. 

 Leon’s breath shuddered when he sucked it in, “you’re making a mistake.”

 She leaned further in until their lips were a mere wisp away from each other, “I’ll think I’ll live.”

 Their lips became one again and this time, Leon had no intention of pulling away. His hands were on her hips, woven in her hair, hers on his face, on his shoulder. They kissed with a fervor neither had ever felt before, their kiss was electric, and with a simple spark, they were both set aflame. 

 Leon’s hands carried her to bed and caressed the soft stomach beneath her t-shirt, his fingers curling around the hem of her shorts and tugging until they, along with her underwear, were discarded in a pile on the floor. 

 There they were again, making the same mistake they made time and time again. Her hands were in the dark blonde hair atop his head, still messy with sleep and his arms were hooked around her thighs, face burrowed into the sopping cunt between her legs, breathing her in like a vapor. His tongue swirled around her clit at an agonizing pace, one that had her throwing her head back into the pillows, her back arching up off the mattress. 

 “Mmm…” she mewled, squirming where she laid. “Fffuck Leon.”

 Leon hummed against her aching bud, taking her in as if she were a drug, for that’s exactly what she was. 

 A drug— one he couldn’t get enough of. One he always pushed away from but still clawed his way back to over and over again. She was a beautiful vice tied with a ribbon of glamor and fame, the physical embodiment of everything Leon didn’t and would never deserve. She was something too grand, too perfect, too good for him. 

 Leon greedily lapped up everything she had to offer with his tongue to her center, staring up at her through heavy, hooded lids as she writhed and mewled his name. She sang for him like the pretty little songbird she was, his tongue’s ministrations her muse, the ink to the pen she used to write her lyrics. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if this moment would be turned into a song, music thousands of her fans would scream the lyrics to and he’d be the only one to understand it for what it truly meant. 

 “Fuck! More… Leon, please! Feels so… shit! Feels so fucking good!”

 Like the selfish bastard he knew he was deep down, Leon buried his tongue further into the heat of her cunt, stealing her siren’s song straight from her lips. She was like a siren, enchanting him with her song, with each pretty little note he dug from her with every stroke of his tongue. And just like the selfish, undeserving bastard he was, Leon drank everything she had to offer up like an expensive brand of wine. 

a/n; another one in the books for these two! thank you all so much for all the love you gave i can see you, it makes me so happy to see so many of you enjoying this little au! (also to see fellow resident evil fans/swifties 🤭

🎀 if you enjoyed this one, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@corruptcoder

@chaoticevilbakugo

@bxbyyyjocelyn

@luckypurins

[luveline]

jade baby I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort with Steve, but the reader comforting steve while he deals with his hearing loss after all the times he got beat up and stuff? Maybe he’s frustrated and she makes him feel better:’)

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1k

Steve’s eardrum was weakened after multiple traumas to the side of his head, but it’s the strangulation of vines in the Creel house that finally gives him permanent hearing loss in his left ear. Matter of time, the doctor said. 

He pretends it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t wear the hearing aid he’s fitted for, he doesn’t go for his follow up appointments. Steve acts like he got better just like everybody else did (sort of). He doesn’t care about taking his shirt off at the pool, ‘cos you all have scars from your time in the upside down, but he doesn’t talk about his ear. 

“Woah, that kid can make a wave,” he says, squinting against the sunshine, his legs still wet from swimming. 

In the pool, Dustin and his friends play an aggressive game of Marco Polo. Max sits on the side with her feet in the water shouting Polo’s that only serve to confuse him, Lucas beside her laughing and trying to curve his own shouting with his hand. Dustin throws his arm out at them and soaks their swim shorts in retribution. 

“He’d be winning if they stopped messing with him,” you say, sitting on the lounger next to him and passing him one of the drinks from your bag. It’s still cold. “When’s Robin getting here?” 

“Uh, she’s with Nance.” 

“Oh, gotcha. When is she coming?” you ask, a little louder. 

He must have missed a couple of words and assumed you asked where she was. He frowns, turning the can of original coke you’ve given him over in his hand. 

“Steve?” 

He looks up, turning himself to you more squarely. “Yeah?” 

“Do you know when Robin’s gonna be here?” 

He presses a finger to his ear. “You just asked me that, huh?” 

“It’s okay. I’m just wondering.” 

“Uh.” He ruffles his hair, face angled down to the floor. “I don’t know. Half an hour?” 

Steve isn’t easy, he’s not promiscuous (anymore) (and who cares if he is?) but he loves flirty attention, and he’s a friend in need. Also, you have a huge awful crush on him even if you won’t admit to it. 

You put your hand on his knee. “Half an hour for you to kiss me stupid, then.” 

He lifts his head. “You wish.” He smiles at you all smug as he covers your hand with his. “Half an hour? I could rock your world.” 

You both laugh and move your hands back to your sides. Your skin feels warm where he’d held it, you can’t help smiling, but it’s obvious it hasn’t really taken his mind off of the problem. Your ruse ran out of steam too quickly. 

Steve looks down at his chest. “I’m sorry. It must be annoying, repeating what you’re saying all the time.” 

“It’s not.” 

“Come on, I know it’s the worst.” 

“Steve, it doesn’t bother me. You need me to repeat what I said, or you need me to talk louder sometimes, so I’ll do it. It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does,” he says, “I should just wear the– the hearing aid,” —his voice goes low with embarrassment— “and stop inconveniencing everybody.” 

“You’re not an inconvenience, Steve.” You tilt your head gently toward your shoulder, palm up on the chair between you. “Steve, I think everybody would agree with me when I say that we don’t mind. It’s up to you. If Max doesn’t wanna use her cane, you don’t care, do you? You just let her use your arm. It’s the same thing. Or, it feels like the same thing for us when you don’t use your hearing aid.” 

He winces. 

You really don’t like the look of it, unsure if you’ve said the wrong thing. “Well, I could learn sign,” you say. 

“What?” 

“Sign language? We could learn how to sign, and then you don’t have to wear the hearing aid, n’ you don’t have to worry I’m repeating myself.” 

“You’d do that?” 

“Yeah,” you say, smiling in bemusement. “Of course I would. And it would help anyways in places like this.” You gesture to the tens of kids shouting and splashing in the pool. “There’s so much noise. I can barely hear myself sometimes. And imagine the shit we could talk at the movies–”

“Thank you,” Steve says, surprising you with his arms suddenly reaching out. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in, and he rubs your back gently, his face pressed to your hair. You hug him back and his arms tighten around you. 

“You’re welcome,” you say. You haven’t even done anything. 

“Seriously,” he says, giving your back a good scrunch with his hand. 

It’s worth it for the scrunch alone, but you really mean it. Of course you’d learn to sign for him, you’ll do anything he needs you to do if it’ll make him more comfortable with coping with this new change. You smile into his naked shoulder, the smell of sunscreen under your nose, his hair tickling your ear. 

“Oh, god, are you guys serious?” Robin asks. “When’s the wedding?” 

“Should’ve started with the joke,” Steve says, putting his chin atop your head rather than pulling away. You turn just enough to see Robin from the corner of your eye. 

She raises her eyebrows. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, just swapping out best friends for the better model.” 

“I resent that, Steve, but I choose to forgive you because I’m in a good mood and Nancy made sandwiches.” 

“My mom made them,” Nancy says from behind Robin's shoulder, looking down at the brown paper bag she’s carrying. 

They turn away from you to call the kids in for lunch. “What did she…” Steve says. 

“Her mom made sandwiches. I’ll get you a PB and J before Mike claims them all,” you promise. 

He smiles a line, nodding at you appreciatively. When you turn away, he brings a hand to his ear, and he doesn’t hate himself for something he can’t help. 

[wlntrsldler]

i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace

fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 

“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 

oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 

he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 

luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 

“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 

luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 

luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 

annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 

“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 

“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 

the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 

“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 

you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 

you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 

you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 

the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 

“hey!” 

you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 

“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 

luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 

you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 

oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 

as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 

annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 

luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 

luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 

there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 

luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.

luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 

with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 

he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 

“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 

mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”

“yeah, they’re cute.” 

you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 

“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 

“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”

luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.

he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 

“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 

luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 

luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 

“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 

luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 

as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 

“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”

“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 

“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 

a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 

luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 

your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 

pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 

you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 

as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.

you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 

luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 

“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 

“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 

“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 

your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 

the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 

luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 

you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 

“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”

“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 

maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 

luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 

not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 

“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 

he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 

he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.

[skelly-words]

Witch's Garden Part 2

A couple ppl asked for this, so I made it real quick bc i'm not finished with anything else yet. This au was already cursed but now it's worse.

Go read Part 1 if you haven't already <3

tags- smut, tentacles/vines, ovi->hatching, aphrodisiac so non-con too? the witch is futa

wc- 1.2k

No minors, 18+ ONLY

The eggs kept warm in your pussy hatch several days before The Witch even remembers you're stuck in the rosehip bush. She needs shears to get you out. Even then, some of the vines encircling you have grown too strong and she doesn't bother cutting them. It's not worth the effort to totally free you, so she trims just enough to check your pulse and pry your trembling legs apart.

You whine as she stops you from rubbing your thighs together. Her eyes feel hot. You know she's staring at you even though you can't see it. Each egg has hatched into a thin tentacle, ending in a pulsing rosebud. The seedlings stretched and thickened, growing unnaturally fast. She could see your poor pussy could barely take it.

The plant doesn't have to feed you its sugary nectar so forcefully anymore. You slurp it off a dripping blossom whenever your mind gets a little too clear. It hangs above your lips, waiting for you to loll your tongue out and suck it off again. You're looking up but can't see the ceiling of the greenhouse through the vegetation. The Witch hasn't cut the vines milking your tits either, conveniently letting them continue to pinch and suck at your stiff nipples.

She lifts your hips up to prop you up on her thighs. It's difficult for you to make proper words, but you moan and buck weakly until she touches you. Her finger gently circles your slick entrance and loops up to your clit in a lazy figure-eight. The muscles in your cunt spasms and your thighs try to clamp shut on her hand, but her shoulders keep you spread open.

She settles her thumb on your clit, swirling around the button. Her other hand begins to pull out one of the tentacles. The first of many. It doesn't come free easily. The vine squirms in her grip in an attempt to rip free from her fingers.

You groan as the bloom slips out of you and she tosses it onto your stomach. It leaves stickiness in its wake, wriggling down your abdomen to latch its petals onto your clit. Her fingers dip back into your pussy to ease out the next seedling. Your mouth hangs open in a gasp as the pulsing vine massages your walls. The bud feeding you nectar takes advantage and shoves past your lips. You don't resist or complain, glad that it muffles all your whining.

The second vine winds itself around the others. It's firmly stuck inside you, using the knot of the other twisting tentacles as an anchor. You can feel them shift and rub on your insides. One of the buds still inside you is gently suctioned to your g-spot and it's making you see stars. The witch's grip tightens and she sits back on her heels to get the thing out. You're so wet. Pussy drooling down to gloss your puckered hole.

"Fuck," she grunts and finally, the vine pops free. "I should've pulled these weeds earlier."

You can feel her cock beneath her robes, twitching in frustration against your lower back. It throbs when you arch your spine to grind on it, hoping to tempt her into taking it out. A deep groan crawls from her throat as her hips rut weakly. She barely moves, but you can feel as the girthy outline of her dick drags between your asscheeks.

The newly freed vine twirls itself around her wrist. It stays, cuffing her arm as she yanks on another. The blossom on your clitty suckles and tugs until it's swollen. It gives a couple throbs of warning then you're cumming. Cream drips out of you as your cunt spurts juice down your legs. The vine loudly squelches when it comes loose. Your gaping hole flutters as the sensitive edges squeeze nothing.

You're given a couple seconds to catch your breath. She tentatively swipes the rosebud through your slit. A translucent film of your slick coats the head as she guides it down. The thing thrashes in her grip, fighting to dive back into your sloppy pussy. She tosses it aside and resumes her task.

She pulls over a dozen of those slippery vines out. The discarded seedlings take turns sucking your clit or putting hickeys on your skin. A couple of them wander a bit low and nose at your fluttering asshole. You're already lubed up for the eager buds. They slip in easily once their syrup starts to ooze down your skin. You grind on her cock the whole time. All your mess has soaked through the layers of her robes.

There are only a few vines left inside you, tucked so deep in your cunny that her fingers can't reach. She shoves her middle finger as deep as it can go and tries to coax one out. None of the tendrils take the bait, staying tightly coiled against your cervix.

You can feel them in your guts, rearranging as she presses a palm into the flesh of your tummy. That's all it takes for you to cum, adding more glaze to your inner thighs. She drags a finger through the middle to give it a try. And you taste sickeningly sweet. Laced with the same aphrodisiac that the rosehips keep pumping into you.

It makes her unfold the front of her robes and rub her palm over her flushed tip. She's so close to the edge, leaking a river of pre-cum from her cockhead. Her bottom lip is tucked under her incisors to keep her moans in. She quickly lines up her fat tip and thrusts in. Your pussy is greedy, taking every aching inch as she pushes her hips flush to the backs of your thighs.

Her cock barely pulls out before she's bullying it deeper into your oversensitive pussy. The vines still stuck curl tightly around her dick. They spiral to form thick ridges up the length. One of the tendrils winds higher, slipping out of you, and chokes her heavy balls. Her angry cock rams into you over and over as the tightness keeps her from cumming. If she were to pull out now, the starter plants would be successfully removed, but there's not much she can think about besides getting off. The tentacles must be intent on torturing her. They stroke her swollen shaft as she pounds into you, but never let a drop of cum spill out.

"Please, please, please." You hear The Witch whine, words slurring together as her thrusts get rushed and sloppy. She's desperate for her release.

Your legs start to go numb from being thrown around her shoulders for so long. She doesn't let up, using you until the vine that's edging her decides to loosen. Her cock pulses inside you before bursting.

Warm sticky semen pours into you, squeezed from her spurting tip as her hips snap forward. The vines finish milking her dry, filling you up with her own seed. She refuses to pull her dick out, plugging her cum inside with the fat knot of vines cinched around her base.

She keeps you like that for what feels like hours. Your cunt weakly clenching around her the whole time. She'd beaten it into a puffy mess and your short orgasms shoot through you like electric shocks. Two small blooms still plug your ass, butt staying stuffed even as she starts to twist and ease her cock out. Her opalescent spend comes out in gushes each time your muscles tens. The new propogations have all been removed and she lets them play with your pussy and tits some more as she clears the remaining vines.

A/N- masterlist if you want more of my work <3

[dreamingonclds]

My Girl | Hozier

Summary: Andrew ruins the surprise date that y/n had planned for him.

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Word Count: 2055

Warning(s): Very slight sexual activity, angst if you squint, fluff

Note: I did not edit this so, sorry if the grammar or writing is off. Also, this is my very first one shot. It ended in a different way than I expected and I don't know how to feel about it anymore. Enjoy!

As it was your last day with Andrew before leaving to go back home. You decided to surprise him with a romantic dinner once he got back from the studio. You slaved away all day in the kitchen making his favorite foods. As a testament of gratitude for everything he’s done for you this past month, spent with him in Wicklow. You decorated the dinner table and area all cute, with fairy lights, artificial vines, and scattered petals. You even put on a dress, his favorite, on you, and the lipstick he said made you look like you were touched by Aphrodite.

The time came when he was supposed to arrive and he didn’t. You didn’t want to even consider the possibility of ruining the surprise. So you didn’t call him right away, concluding that he was probably running a bit late like he sometimes does. A couple more hours went by and now the concern in your belly was getting hard to ignore. It was almost 12 am, he said he would be home by 8 pm. So you decided to shoot him a quick text.

Hey baby, everything okay?

He calls you back almost immediately.

“Hey darling, I’m sorry I got carried away and forgot to call you earlier. Me and the team decided to just order some food and eat here. I’ll be home in a bit, do you want me to pick you something up to take back?” He says rushing to get the words out, you hear the shuffling of feet getting away from the sound of banter and laughs.

You smile sadly at his sincerity.

“It’s okay, I get it. But umm…,” You interrupt your own speech as you look towards the beautifully set table and food you kept in the oven to keep warm. “I’m okay, I made dinner earlier, thanks for offering anyway. But you enjoy your dinner!” you continue.

“I am, you enjoy your dinner too-”

“I’ll try. Be safe, yeah?” You quickly respond cutting him off.

“Are you-”

You cut him off again, starting to feel a lump develop in your throat, and that shameful tickle in your chest.

“Hey I gotta go Andrew, don’t want the food to get cold.” you say and hang up before he can say anything else.

Your flight out of Ireland was at 6 am. You weren’t even packed, thinking that after dinner, Andrew could help you, because you knew he’d do most of it for you; as he did with other things. But also because you wanted to spend as much time with him before you left. But with your time of departure nearing, you decided to get a move on it.

By the time Andrew got home it was nearing 3 am. And you were nearly done packing, because you had stayed with him for a little over a month, your things were scattered throughout his house so it took a while. In the midst of you focused, trying to remember everything you had brought, you didn’t hear the front door open.

Andrew walks in quietly, believing that he would find you asleep. He quickly notices a light shining from inside the oven, he hurries over and opens it, thinking you accidentally left it on. But his eyebrows scrunch together when he sees it’s only the light on and his favorite meal in there, untouched.

He stands up straight from his crouching position and walks out to the dining area. He quickly notices the dining table, set with empty plates, wine glasses and the vase with flowers you guys picked together. The almost completely melted taper candles were an indication that you had been waiting for him for a while. 

Once the realization hits him, he mutters a single word.

“Fuck.” he brings his hand to his face, rubbing it over. He turns himself and begins to walk towards the bedroom. But, his guilty conscience makes him look back to the table. His imagination quickly fills of you, wondering just what you must have been feeling. He thinks to blow out the candles but turns his back to them, they’re on their last breath anyway; he thinks.

He carefully opens the bedroom door, still believing you are asleep. But he pauses when he sees you standing there, lost in thought. But beautiful, all dolled up in his favorite dress of yours.

Your eyes shoot to the opening door, and the first thing you notice is his sorry face. Before you can mutter a word, a letter even. He rushes over to you

“Darling, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t know. One of the guys mentioned getting pizza and everybody was on board with it so I agreed and,” he rambles on, both his hands rubbing your arms.

“Why are you leaving me…over that darling, it’s not worth it. I know I fucked up, I know that, I know. But I can fix it, I promise you I will fix it. It was so stupid of me, but it won’t ever happen again.” he continues, one of his hands had made its way to your face, gently cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek.

And then it hits you, he walked in and saw you packing. He must think that you are actually leaving him, he must’ve forgotten your flight back.

Before he can continue, you ease his worry.

“Baby, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m okay, I promise” you say as you look up to him and look into his eyes,you take his torso in your arms and rub him soothingly. His eyebrows furrow together, he’s still confused, he really doesn’t remember.

You take his hand and lead him over to the empty side of the bed free of your luggage. You push his chest lightly, encouraging him to sit down. And he does, pulling you down to sit in his lap. 

“Then…what are you doing?” He asks, one hand sitting on your bum and the other toying with the fabric of your dress.

“I’m leaving, remember, back home.” You say, one arm around his shoulders playing with the loose strands of hair coming out of his bun. 

“Ohh” he lets out a sigh and puts his head into your neck, peppering your collarbone with kisses, mumbling sorrys in between each of them.

“Baby. Baby. Baby” he says, each one spaced out.

“I am so sorry. That I truly forgot about. I am so so sorry. I can’t believe I just let that pass my mind. Oh my god what is wrong with me.” he rambles guiltily.

You remove your hands from his hair and try to coax them into his face, softly lifting him out of the crook of your neck. You give him a gentle smile and give him a soft kiss.

“It’s okay.” you say genuinely, nodding your head.

“No it’s not.” he responds matter of factly.

“You forgot baby, it happens-” you try to reassure him but he cuts you off with a kiss.

“Be honest love, how’d it make you feel?” he asks, lips brushing against yours. Your head naturally hangs down, the feeling of humiliation overtaking you once again. But the feeling of his large hand rubbing over your thigh offers comfort for you to tell him the truth, but not enough.

“Ugh” you groan in embarrassment, quickly hugging him so as to not meet his gaze, your cheeks warming with the feeling.

“Oh darling.” he returns the act and rubs your exposed back. “How do I make it up to you baby?” he asks you, and you can tell he means it.

“It’s okay, I mean it.” you state, pulling away and meeting his eyes. He gives you an understanding smile, and brings his hand to your face. Moving your hair from your face and lightly touching your lips, you give his thumb a soft peck.

“You are too good for me.” he admits. You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You shake your head in disagreement and give his jaw a peck. Your phone buzzes from the bed and he turns and reaches for it, handing it to you. 

“Shit.” you say, getting up and off of him, realizing the time.

“Babe, we have to hurry!” you hurry back to your luggage.

“We have to leave soon or I'll miss my flight.” you throw the last few things in your suitcase.

“Oh yeah” he says, coming over to you. “Let me do that.” he tells you when he sees you trying to close it.

“I’m gonna go get my clothes.” you say and run out to the laundry room, picking up the outfit you planned to wear for your long flight. Walking back into the bedroom, you see Andrew moving your luggage to the floor. You reach to try and unhook the back of your dress when he comes up and hugs you from behind. He then turns you to face him and shamelessly checks you out, his eyes fixed on your cleavage before he speaks.

“ I love this dress.” he says meeting your eyes.

“I know, I can tell.” you giggle.

He leans down, bringing his lips to yours, you tiptoe, trying to make up for the height difference. A passionate makeout ensues, his hands give your bum gentle squeezes. His mouth finds your neck and you release soft moans, almost giving in as he backs you into the bed.

“As much as I would like to babe, I can’t. I have to leave, like now or I’ll miss my flight.” you say breathlessly, your body almost betraying you as his lips make their way from your jaw to your chest. Your hands go to his hair instinctively as he continues to go lower and lower.

“Babe, seriously, we don’t have time” trying to catch your breath, you sit up, forcing him up as well. He gives you a cheeky smile, offering his hand to help you to your feet.

“It’s like you’re trying to keep me from leaving.” you run your hands through your hair in an effort to put yourself together.

“That's exactly what i'm trying to do” he stands with his hands on his hips, just endearingly looking at you, taking you in. You look up to him, and a laugh leaves your mouth when you see your lipstick transferred to his face.

“This would be so much worse if it wasn’t for your beard” you say in between small laughs, circling your mouth, in reference to his. He turns his head towards the mirror and laughs when he catches sight of the damage.

“Yours isn’t any better.” he turns back to you and wipes the tip of your nose that somehow managed to catch the rosy tint. You return the favor, wiping his lips with the best of your ability. Then you rest your hand on his cheek, he turns his head towards it and gives your palm a kiss. You give him a pouty smile, and your chest aches, realizing just how much you don’t want to leave him.

“My girl.” he says, mouth still in your hand. He holds your wrist there for a few more seconds before he gives it one last kiss and gently lets go.

“You’re making this really hard.” you admit. You turn your back to him and step away, not being able to look at him any longer. Your hands go back to small hooks of your dress, when you hear a sigh from behind you.

“At least let me take the dress off of you, one way or another.” he offers, referring to your prior denial of both your unholy desires. You chuckle and let him help, shivering whenever his fingertips meet your skin.

With no time left to spare due to the hour drive to the airport, you slipped on your comfy clothes and grabbed your belongings. The drive there was full of avoidance from the both of you, not wanting to talk about being away from each other. So instead, the conversation was full of the best memories you had in the emerald isle. And once you arrived at the airport, you sat in the car for as long as you could, not wanting a single second to go to waste where you couldn’t be together.

[astraystayyh]

Backburner

Han x reader. Han is a toxic ex who won't let you move on. Angst.

Inspired by Backburner- Niki. skz song series masterlist

It's been seven weeks since you and Han broke up.

Not that you're keeping count, but it's easy to remember when he calls you every Saturday night. Without fault.

He's the one who broke up with you, flimsy excuses and teary eyes as he left your apartment. Talks about how he wasn't enough for you, how he couldn't be present for you, how he couldn't love you the way you needed to be loved.

But you wanted his love, not the one he suddenly deemed you worthy of.

Maybe that's why you still picked up, even though it's reeling you back to seven weeks ago when he had just left you. Han's no longer here and yet, he's not letting you move on. He's the perfume that lingers in the elevator long after the person is gone; he's the feeling of floating on the waves that sticks with you long after you come home from the beach.

He's an expert at kneading nostalgia into your soul, at holding you hostage by the ropes of your shared memories. You are a puppet in his hands, dangling over the edge of oblivion, only to be pulled back each time you attempt to forget.

And he's calling again, at 2 am, like he always does. You don't have to glance at your phone to know it's Han- you never changed the special ringtone you set for him. And you pick up, like you always do.

I can't lie it feels nice that you're calling

"Hey, were you sleeping?" he asks after a few silent beats.

"No, I wasn't."

He clears his throat, and you imagine him lying on his bed, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. If you close your eyes long enough, you can still smell his cologne and the fabric softener he uses. Or maybe he changed it. You aren't around anymore to know.

"I miss you." His voice sounds broken, coming out in a strangled whisper. As horrible as it sounds, you enjoyed knowing that he felt as miserable as you- that his soul still ached for you as you ached for him.

You sound sad and alone, and you are stalling

He coughs again, trying to fill the silence from your end, but you don't budge. You never know what to expect from these calls. Sometimes he'd talk about his day, as if nothing happened, as if he was still your boyfriend and he was calling you on the way home.

Sometimes you'd both stay silent, your breaths the only thing echoing through the phone call. You'd put it on speaker and pretend he was there, lying next to you. That you'd wake up in the morning and find him smiling at your sleeping figure, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

And sometimes, he'd tell you how much he loves you. Those phone calls hurt the most, because if he loved you, he would have stayed, right?

I don't care about what you want, as long as you keep talking

"Yn, I... I really miss you."

"Han..." you trail out, as hot tears well in your eyes. It was hard not to crumble when he spoke this way, his words tugging harshly at your heartstrings. It brings you back to all the times he was away, bound by work obligations. How he always told you he missed you, and within it, a silent promise that he'd come back. That he'd unravel the need within you, filling every dent and crack in your heart since he left. Unlike now, gone for good.

"It's the truth, I wait all week for this one call. It's the only thing keeping me going."

Talking to Han makes you experience different emotions, all at once. Relief- when you hear his voice for the first time in a week, and you realize you still haven't forgotten how your name sounds rolling off his tongue. Sadness- when you remember that this is now the remains of your relationship. The pain wraps around you slowly- like vines intertwining themselves with old buildings, deserted just like your heart.

And then anger- when he says things like this; as if he isn't the instigator of this pain, as if some force greater than the two of you forced you apart. It maddens you, how he stabs you and then he weeps over your bloody body.

"Then why did you break up with me, Han? If it's hurting you this much then why are we even apart?" you ask, anger barely contained.

"I told you, I'm never here. You don't deserve a boyfriend like this," his tone is exasperated, as if this is a simple truth and you are supposed to swallow it down your throat, along with the rest of your feelings.

"Then stop fucking calling me Han. You aren't here but you won't let me move on!"

"Because I don't want you to move on!" he yells, and you startle at the raw pain laced in his voice. "I'm scared if I don't call you anymore, you'll forget me," his voice cracks. "And... And we'll meet ten years from now in the aisle of a random supermarket, and you'd be in love with someone else while I'm still buying the shampoo you recommended to me."

"I'm tired Han," you choke out, phone now shaking in your hand.

You'd think I'd be a fast learner, but guess I won't ever mind- crisping up on your backburner.

"Me too, baby."

"Don't call me that," you beg, "please, don't call me that."

It's pathetic but at least you are too

"I want to see you," he says, tone pleading. And you can envision him perfectly, wounded eyes looking into yours, his lower lip quivering at the thought of you saying no.

"It's not love when you treat someone this way," you tell him, wiping your tears away. "To put someone in the corner and only think of them when you are fucking lonely."

"I think of you all the time," he cuts you off, "you never leave my mind, even when I'm away. Especially when I'm away."

After everything you put me through, I somehow still believe in you

"This is wrong," you whisper, as your resolve weakens, as your longing for him threatens to consume you whole. You no longer care that his hands are choking you as long as he soothes down the burn after.

"I know it is, but I love you. Say it back, please. I need to hear it."

I'll always be in your corner

"Please," he repeats, and he sounds so vulnerable, in his way of begging you. As if your words are the oxygen with which he breathes.

"I love you."

Cause I don't feel alive until I'm burning on your backburner

You are already at the door when you hear someone knocking on it. You don't have to look through the peephole to see who it is.

You open the door, and Han's there, phone still brought up to his ear.

"Let me in?"

He doesn't need to ask, you always will.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Slip Into Me Part 3: This Sticky Mess of Mine✨

QZ! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here is the final part for these two! I might do some one-shots in the future, but we will see. This one is mostly all in Joel’s POV so enjoy 🥰

Chapter Summary: While you’re indulging in a can of peaches, Joel can’t seem to keep his eyes or his hands off you.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: Joel’s POV, QZ! Joel, feelings, a day on patrol with Joel, teasing, unprotected piv, oral and face riding (fem receiving), cream pie, smut and lots of fluff, no use y/n, soft! Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The air is warm as sweat drips off Joel’s tanned skin, running through his slicked back curls as he leans against the rundown walls of an old rundown convenience store. Sunlight glitters off the broken glass shards by the front door. Forest green vines snake their way against the crevice of every corner, even against the ceiling that has mildew corrupting the structure. Picked over shelves and half-opened items litter the cracked ground. But none of that matters because you’re here with him out on patrol. You. The troublemaker that stole his heart back at the QZ. 

   And there you are. Sitting up on the dust-covered cabinet, legs swinging back and forth like you just found the last stash of candy. Hums of satisfaction leave your glossy lips that are now covered with the sticky syrup from the open can of peaches in your hands. And fuck do you look delicious.

   He can’t help but sit back and admire the blush of your cheeks, your beautiful eyes glowing like bright halos as you indulge in one of your favorite sweet treats. Peaches. And God, what he wouldn’t give to be that can of peaches right about now. 

   A smile permeates on his lips, tugging and curling to indent deep dimples in his cheeks, stinging because he can’t stop staring at the angel that sits in his presence. That angel being you, a downright troublemaker. But you’re his troublemaker, and he has no intention of letting you go. Ever. 

   “Good?” he asks, chuckling under his breath as you dip your hand inside the aluminum can and smile up at him, taking the breath from his lungs. 

   “Mmm, so good,” you moan, sucking your sticky-coated fingers in your mouth, licking the syrup slowly from your peach-covered skin. 

   He groans, dragging his fingers along his patchy scruff, undressing you with his eyes, pretending it’s his fingers invading your mouth, commanding you to suck, to taste every inch of his skin. He can feel the saliva coat his skin, can imagine how good your mouth would feel on his fingers, on his lips. Can already taste how fucking soft your lips would feel, his tongue dragging against yours, collecting peach nectar from your mouth, swallowing your moans, slipping his fingers inside your denim shorts, curling them up till you can’t see straight anymore, till you can only say his name again and again and again.

   He drags his tongue against his lower lip seductively, imagining you covered in the sticky syrup, his tongue lapping up every single beautiful inch of you. The smell of nectar and lavender enveloping his senses, getting lost in the sweet taste of your plush thighs, indulging and reveling in how good your pussy tastes. All sweet and messy and perfect for him. Always so perfect. And he wants you. Now. 

   “You want some?” you giggle, kicking your legs with another joyous laugh, your smile flashing in the sunlight trickling through the cracks in the ceiling, covering you in angelic light. 

   His breath hitches and he pushes himself off the wall, stalking toward you like a starving wolf, ready to swallow you whole like you’re a sweet, innocent lamb. But that’s his favorite thing to do. Eat you until you spill everything for him. Always for him. His good girl. 

   He chuckles and shakes his head, stepping in front of you, pushing your legs apart and crowding your space, big hands lingering on your soft skin, jean shorts barely covering your thick thighs. “Think I want something else, darlin’. Why don’t you be a good girl and let me have a taste?”

   “I thought you didn’t like sweets,” you smirk, eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief that he wants to devour fully. 

   “The only sweet thing I like is you, babygirl,” he smiles, his brown eyes melting into yours. And God, those eyes. Those beautiful, sparkling irises he can’t seem to get out of his head. They stick like glue. Permanent, paralyzing, something he wants to never forget. 

   “Is that right?” you ask giddily, a pretty blush staining your cheeks crimson, just like the color of your glossy lips. 

   “S’right. How ‘bout you give me a taste, darlin’?” He gently takes your hand in his and guides it to his mouth, eyes darkening and pupils expanding, giving you that look you know all too well. Your breath hitches when he slips your index and middle finger into his mouth, slowly sucking and gliding his tongue against your soft skin, making sure to clean every single speck of syrupy off your fingers. 

   Your mouth drops open as you gawk at him, watching him ravish your fingers, and it’s probably the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole existence.

   “S’good, so sweet,” he whispers, prying the can of peaches from your open palm, slowly tipping it to where the savory juice is running down your lips, your neck, your chest. And that’s when he snaps; his body filled with lust and fire pumping through his veins.

   He quickly pulls the cotton t-shirt over your head, leaving you in your lacy black bra and your denim shorts that tease him relentlessly. And as the sticky syrup covers your skin, there’s nothing but an aching need left in every single bone of his body. That need is screaming to devour you, fully and completely. And that’s exactly what he’ll do.

   He takes one more look at your wide doe eyes and jumps, every composure of his control gone in a flash. “C’mere, pretty girl.” His mouth molds to yours in the next second, hands roaming savagely over your body, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other twisting uncontrollably in your hair. 

   A moan slips free when you open your mouth, and it’s like music to his ears. He slots his tongue inside and strokes slowly, eating up every single drop of syrup on your tongue, groaning at the sweet sound of your pretty little moans that fall free as he devours you completely.

   Your fingers lace through his slicked back curls, and a deep groan leaves his throat. He loves the way your fingers brush through his hair, scraping against his scalp, eliciting goosebumps each time you touch him. You’re like lightning, and he’ll gladly accept every single strike you give him.

   Tongues clash wildly together, an uncontrollable wildfire blooming through the abandoned room. All thoughts of infected, raiders, and patrol take flight out the smashed door. There’s nothing in this world that can pry this moment from his fingers. He’ll continue to sink into you until you melt and unravel completely in the palm of his hands.

   He releases from your swollen lips, dragging his tongue down your cheek, sucking the savory skin of your elongated neck, your fingers digging deeper into his scalp as another moan leaves your pretty lips, making him feral with every quiver you breathe. 

   “Joel…” you moan as he unclasps your bra, pulling it free and letting your full breasts spill out for him. He kisses his way down your sticky chest, slowly rolling his tongue over each pebbled nipple, sucking and kneading the supple skin while another moan falls from your lips.

   “S’right, baby. Know jus’ what you need, my little troublemaker,” he smirks, unfastening each button on your denim shorts one at a time, dragging the metal zipper down gracefully and then letting the denim fall in a heap to the floor, leaving you in nothing but lacy underwear that are soaked against your beautiful core.��

   He takes a step back, assessing your arousal, dragging his eyes down your splayed body, your mouth breathing heavily and eyes wide with anticipation. It’s such a gorgeous view that he wishes he had a camera because he so badly wants to remember this moment in full detail. 

   “Look at you, darlin’. Soppin’ wet. Soakin’ right through that lace for me. What a messy girl you are,” he groans, dragging his thumb up the seam of your folds, eliciting a sweet moan from your lips. A choir of angels to his ears.

   “Yes, yes. Messy for you,” you choke out, his hand slipping beneath the drenched lace, rubbing his thumb in tantalizing, slow circles, making you shake beneath his touch.

   “So fuckin’ wet, sweetheart. Let me jus’ slip these off real quick. I’ll make a mess of you yet,” he promises, taking no time in ripping your ruined lace off, eyes wide as you take in the large size of him looming over your bare body. 

   “How are you going to ruin me, Joel?” you ask shakily, your core buzzing for him, your clit already swollen and ready for his meaty hands to ruin you. 

   “For starters, I’m gonna take my time with you. Yeah, gonna take my goddamn time.” He grabs the open can and tips it at a ninety degree angle, letting the syrupy juice of the canned peaches serenade your silky skin, running all the way down until your pretty pink pussy is gushing with the sugary goodness. 

   His hand guides down to your slick folds, rubbing the messy substance over your drenched center, creating the most obscene wet noises that vibrate off the walls, reverberating back into his eardrums like the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard in his entire fucking life. 

   “Goddamn, darlin’. You’re fuckin’ drenched. S’this all for me?” he smirks, eyes blowing out wide with every roll of your tongue, your large eyes burning with need.

   “Yes, it’s all for you. But Joel—fuck. Need you to…”

   “Shhh. I know what you need, sticky girl. Need my tongue, don’t ya?” Without giving you a moment to respond, his tongue darts down your stomach, sinking to his knees slowly, teasing the tip of his tongue over your dripping core, barely brushing against your needy clit.

   “Ohh,” you whine, bucking your hips up in hopes to get the friction you need. But you don’t need to beg because he’s sure to take care of all your needs and leave you completely satisfied and more. 

   “Patience, baby. I’ll give you what you need. Don’t worry,” he assures, guiding your legs over his shoulders slowly, opening your legs wide and sliding you to the very edge of the counter, just enough to let the sticky residue of the syrup slide down and drip into his thick beard.

   He chuckles to himself and licks his lips like he’s about to feast on the most delicious dessert of all. Because that’s exactly what he’ll be doing. Oh, yes. He’s always loved eating messy pussies, but yours takes the cake. 

   “Joel I…”

   He attacks, mouth molding to your perfect pussy, the flat of his tongue licking a clean stripe up the entirety of you, a low moan falling from your lips as he circles meticulously over your puffy clit. 

   “Oh, shit. Feels so good, Joel,” you moan, your arms falling behind you, nails scratching at the chipped wood, legs shaking from the thorough licks of his large tongue. 

   “Yeah, s’right. Take it,” he coaxes, slipping two thick fingers into your dripping hole, curling them up exactly where you like it, right into that spongy spot that makes you lose control.

   He falls into a trance. Licking and teasing and sucking you dry, slurping up the excess peach syrup, tasting the nectar of the gods with every stroke of his tongue. His nose seeps into the curls above your mound, inhaling the sweet aroma of you, drinking you down like he hasn’t tasted water in days. He’s addicted to this. To feasting on you, worshipping you, making you come over and over and over until you spill everything for him.

   He’s selfish for you and he knows it well. He’d gladly get on his knees every single day for the rest of his life if it meant you’d come for him, spill those pretty moans he dreams about night after night. Maybe he’s a mad man, maybe he’s addicted, but God, what it feels like to be addicted to you is like heaven. All consuming and reckless. You wrecked him, but he doesn’t care. You can take all of him, have all of him. He’s yours now. All fucking yours. 

   If this is what a ruined man feels like then so be it. He’s been swept out to sea the moment you stepped foot through his door. He should’ve known he was a goner the first time you laid eyes on him. 

   “Fuck. Joel, I’m gonna come…” you mewl, arching your back and bucking your hips just enough to get his meaty fingers deeper in your core. He knows you love it, him having all the control and ravishing you till you’re nothing but putty in his hands. He fucking loves every second of it.

   “Go on then, messy girl. Get me sticky.” He curls his fingers a little more and pulls hard on your puffy clit, sucking it deep into his mouth and overstimulating your nerve endings just the way you like it. 

   He pumps his fingers once, twice, three more times, and then you’re clenching around him, your walls suffocating his skin. “Spill,” he commands. With one more lick to your bundle of nerves, you’re a goner. 

   Your release floods over his fingers, drips all the way down his bruised knuckles, your high-pitched moans filling the stifling air and knocking the breath from him.

   “Atta fuckin’ girl,” he groans, slowly releasing his fingers from your pulsating core, licking you clean along with his fingers and reveling in the sweet juices of your body.

   “Joel, that was… amazing,” you whisper breathlessly, your body coming down from its orgasmic high.

   “What makes you think I’m done with you, huh?” One eyebrow arches, and a smug smirk curls against his lips, leaving him looking like the devil that he is.

   “Not done with me?” you ask all wide-eyed and surprised. 

   “Oh no, little troublemaker. Not even close.” He tugs at your legs, sending you flailing over the edge of the counter, landing with a thud on his chest, Joel flat on his back.

   You look down in shock, your legs straddled across his broad chest, your center still buzzing with aftershocks of the first orgasm. You should’ve known he wouldn’t leave you with just one. 

   Before you can say a word, he pulls you up to his chin, hovering your open legs right above his mouth, his beard sticky with your release and the remains of the syrupy goodness of the canned peaches. He looks like a mess you wouldn’t mind cleaning up. 

   “Now sit the fuck down and give me another,” he growls with a deep, commanding voice that sends chills down your spine. You obey his command and sit, letting his mouth take you to places you can only reach with his tongue.

   He groans, flicking his tongue up and down the wetness of your slit, pulling on your puffy pink clit, reveling in the glorious moans you fill the hot room with. He’s never tasted someone as sweet as you before, never been this pussy drunk over some girl. But you’re not just some girl to him. No. You’re special, one of a kind that was made just for him. And he plans to keep you for as long as he can. 

   Your fingers pull on his slicked back curls, eliciting a deep groan from his throat while he feasts on your dripping core, smearing your arousal all over his lapping tongue. 

   “So fuckin’ delicious,” he breathes out, diving his tongue inside your slick folds, finding your dripping hole and tongue fucking you till you’re screaming his name. 

   “Joel, Joel, Joel. Oh my GOD,” you moan as he squeezes one hand around your waist, the other drawing slow, languid circles against your bundle of nerves, your walls squeezing the perfect amount before you let another orgasm fall on the tip of his tongue. 

   He laps up every speck of cum that drips down your tight walls, groaning at the sweet taste of you that he just can’t seem to get enough of. You collapse on his chest, but he’s quick to slide you down, right where the tight bulge is struggling to be let free behind his denim jeans. He’s been hard ever since you dipped your finger into the can of peaches, his balls full of his seed, wanting so badly to bend you over and fuck the living daylights out of you. But he’s not selfish like that. He’s selfish for you, needing to consume you in pleasure, forgetting himself entirely until you’re fully satisfied. 

   Maybe it’s the way you always try to put him first, but he’ll be damned if he ever comes first. You’re not just any girl. You’re the fucking goddess that saved his life, the one that showed him a path out of the darkness. You’re the angel in disguise he’s always needed, and he’s forever grateful that he found you in that alleyway so many months ago. He thinks that’s when he fell. And he did. He crashed hard. 

   He grinds your core against his hard cock, digging you against the rough material of his jeans, straining to control himself with your little whimpers. “One more, baby. Give me one more.”

   “Joel, I can’t. It’s too much,” you mewl, brows furrowed in exhaustion.

   “Hey, you trust me?” he asks softly, tracing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. 

   “Yes,” you whisper quietly, still grinding against his bulge.

   “You can take one more, sweetheart. Know you can. Think you can try for me?” he asks while he slowly unbuckles his belt, your fingers pulling the zipper down cautiously. He lifts his hips and pushes his denim jeans and boxers down, freeing his hard cock with precum spilling from the tip, desperate to get inside you. 

   “Mhm,” you hum, agreeing to indulge in his ask.

   “That’s my good girl,” he praises, your core sliding against his tip, smearing it in your wet slick. And then you start to ride him slowly. “Ride my cock, cowgirl. There ya go. Attagirl,” he groans as you fully seat yourself down on him, your tight walls squeezing his cock the perfect amount.

   You pick up the pace; grinding and riding him fluidly, your moans melting with his as bliss takes over his body. “Joel, feels so good,” you moan, eyes rolling back every time he kisses your cervix.

   “Damn right it does. That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he growls. 

   One more motion and he’s wrapping his arm around your waist and rolling you over, pinning you to the ground as he takes control and fucks you relentlessly. His cock is buried deep inside your pussy, eliciting moan after pretty moan as he rocks his hips faster, his lips sucking and licking your glistening skin.

   He’s barely holding on, unable to focus on anything but you. Beautiful and writhing beneath his hips. “So fuckin’ perfect, baby. One more. C’mon. Let me feel you come again.”

   His thumb presses firmly on your puffy clit, circling slowly to draw all the pleasure out from your body. He wants it all, wants everything from you. He can never get enough of you.

   “Joel, I’m gonna—” 

   “Give it to me, sweetheart. Soak my cock,” he growls, thrusting deeper and circling his thumb faster and faster until you’re screaming his name and clenching him so tight he can’t help but to moan himself. 

   “That’s my girl. Good fuckin’ girl,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling your slick drenching his throbbing cock.

   He pumps in and out faster, huffing and groaning through each thrust he gives. You always feel so good, and he can never get enough. He’s like a starving man, dying when he can’t fill you up with his seed. He’d have you every day if he could. You’re a goddess, and he’ll worship you every single day. As long as you’ll let him.

   One more thrust and he’s throwing his head back, his seed filling inside you full, claiming you as his own. He stills above you, slowly pulls out and collapses to the ground in a heap. He pulls you on top of his sweat-coated chest, and then you both lay there just basking in the presence of each other, panting from the intense orgasms.

   He trails his fingertips down your jawline, lingering them on your glowing skin, needing to keep a grasp on your beautiful face.

   He loves the feel of your soft skin against his rough exterior, softening him up with every brush of your lips. He loves your glowing smile, how it always seems to light up every room you walk into. And your scent. God, the aroma of sunshine and violets and raspberry tea cling to his sheets, eliciting want and need that drives him up the walls. And he loves the way you say his name, all soft and slow, like you’re memorizing every syllable to memory, not wanting to forget the name that branded your tongue the night of the thunderstorm. His tongue swallowed you whole with every languid stroke, with every touch he could grasp. 

   Maybe he should’ve fallen for someone his own age, someone like Tess. But you. He couldn’t forget your lips, the way you blush every time he gives you that look, the one that gets him into trouble with his feelings. That deep, awestruck, mesmerizing look you give with every shy smile that curls against your perfect lips. And maybe… maybe it was that first night you stayed with him, that teasing knife practice lesson, the countless shotgun lessons and long patrol days in the blazing sun. Maybe it was that first touch that made him fall head over heels, crashing into the barricaded walls of the QZ. 

   He thinks it’s love. It is love. And God, he’s so fucking in love that he can hardly stand it. 

   It’s the way you're laying on his chest, leaning on your crossed arms, staring up at him with those beautiful glossy eyes, the warmest smile shining over your dewy lips. And that’s it. He’s a complete goner to the sweet girl that never should’ve walked through those QZ gates. Because now you’re his. 

   “We should probably get up. Tess and Nathan might show up any minute now,” you sigh, starry eyes still locked on his. And fuck, you’re so beautiful.

   “Five more minutes,” he groans, pulling you closer, skimming his lips across your forehead.

   “Joel Miller. What if they see?!” you squeak, jaw dropped in amazement.

   “Let ‘em see. I suspect they already know what we’re up to,” he chuckles, fingers brushing down your back in slow circles.

   “Oh? Tess knows?” you ask with your brows raised in question.

   “She might know. Might’ve told her how much I like you. And you live at my place now, darlin’. Think she’s very aware of what we are,” he chuckles softly.

   “And what are we?” you ask with a devious smirk, wanting to hear it from his own lips.

   “We’re together, baby. A couple. You and me.”

   Your beautiful eyes glow under the sunlight basking through the window, your smile knocking the breath from his lungs. “I love hearing you say that,” you murmur dreamily, perched on top of his chest like a glowing angel.

   “I’ll say it every day if y’want me to,” he replies with a smile, his palm brushing softly against your cheek.

   “Please do,” you giggle, eyes softly waning in his wide eyes. He fucking loves when you do that.

   “You know. One of these days, I’m gonna take you away from the QZ gates. Somewhere far far away. Maybe to Jackson where there’s no soldiers, no strict rules, no curfew, jus’ mountains and fresh air and freedom.”

   You bite your bottom lip and brush a tousled curl from his forehead, his hand catching yours and lacing his fingers through yours. “And why would you do that?”

   “‘Cause I…” He pauses, the words running dry from the tip of his tongue. 

   “You what?” you push, wanting to hear the words from his mouth. 

   “‘Cause… I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers out, eyes glossy from the daze of basking in your glory. His sweet little angel.

   “You? You’re in love with me?” you gasp, eyes wide in awe. You never thought you’d hear the words fall off his lips first. 

   “S’right, sweetheart. I’ve fallen for the pretty troublemaker from California. My little smuggler,” he chuckles, cupping your chin between his index finger and thumb.

   You melt into his chest and sigh, eyes soft with love. “And what would you say if I told you I felt the same?”

   He smiles, tears pooling in the back of his eyes because he’s so fucking in love with you. “You feel the same ‘bout an old man like me?”

   “Mhm. I’m so in love with you, Joel Miller. Think I have been for a while now. Grey curls and all.” You push your fingers through his messy curls, and he groans beneath your touch. He’s always been so soft for you. For months now it’s always been you.

   “Well then. Looks like you’re all mine, sweet girl. The world is ours. We can go anywhere you want. Jus’ say the word and I’ll take you. Wherever you want. I’m all yours.”

   You graze your lips against his cheek, his patchy beard brushing against your jawline. “How about for now you just take me back home?”

   He nods and smiles gently. “I can do that. I’d do jus’ about anything for you, pretty girl.”

   When you shift your weight and fall into him more, where he can smell the taste of promises in the air, you look up with eyes that melt him into liquid. “Joel?”

   “Hmm?” he hums, mesmerized by the beauty before him. 

   “Kiss me?” you ask softly.

   He cups the back of your neck and pulls you to him, inches from his lips. “C’mere, love.” He crashes his mouth against yours, starting wildfires in his beating heart. He’ll never get enough of you, never get enough of this. You in his arms, your lips hanging off his, bodies burning for the other. 

   He’s engulfed in you, and he’ll let you swallow him until the only thing he can breathe is you.

   He faintly hears Tess closing in to the area, so he pulls you up and helps you dress, tossing his clothes on the moment you’re back in yours. Grabbing your soft hand in his, he leads you out into the light of the outside world again, breaking the peaceful bubble that only you and him shared. 

   When Tess emerges from behind a tall oak tree, Joel sighs but doesn’t drop his curled fingers that are interlocked tightly with yours. Nathan, one of the other smugglers trails behind, searching for any infected or raiders he might encounter.

   “There you are. What have you two love birds been up to?” she asks with a mischievous smirk, eyes locking on your entwined hands.

   “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Joel chuckles while Tess shakes her head in knowing. 

   “Glad to see you keep this one smiling. He’s a troublemaker, this one,” Tess laughs, your cheeks blazing hot under a pretty blush that stains your flawless skin.

   “You hear that, trouble? Looks like I’m also a troublemaker,” Joel whispers in your ear, his lips brushing against your jawline as he plants a soft kiss on your face.

   “Guess we’re perfect together then,” you smile, biting your lower lip as shyness takes over. God, he loves when you do that.

   “That’s right, baby. Looks like we were meant to be.” He gives you one more kiss atop the crown of your head and steers you forward, fingers still interlocked as the both of you make your way back into the green forest.

   Forever is an awfully long time, but for you? For you, he’d live a thousand lives if it meant he got to be with you. 

   You’re his little smuggler, and he’s never going to let you go.

[emilys-bangs]

Hiii congrats on hitting 200!! I love the concept you got going on!! I’d like to request Andromeda and the prompt 20? Emily let’s you borrow a shirt or sweater but seeing you on her clothes is her fave thing so she is all lovey dovey and all super super clingy and sweet. Don’t worry about it if you don’t feel like this, I understand ❤️

Hii sweetheart, tysm!! This was so fun to write, I hope you like it <3

Join my celebration here!

Word count: 0.9k

It’s not that you want to go home, but at this point you practically have no choice.

“Em, I don’t have any clean clothes.” You mumble, trying your best not to sink into her embrace as she hugs you from behind. It’s a very effective trap.

“Well gee, it’s not like there’s a fully stocked closet here.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.

“Emily—”

She turns you around abruptly, cutting the protest off just as it reaches your lips. Those eyes of hers stare into your soul as she cups your cheek with a warm hand, her brows furrowing in disapproval.

“Honey, I’m serious. We can throw your clothes in the wash. I’m pretty sure this,” she tugs at your sweater, “is clean, but you can borrow mine if you don’t wanna wear it anymore.”

It’s not technically dirty; you wore it last night after your shower and slept in it until you woke up a little over an hour ago, wanting to go home for a change of clothes. 

Except there’s someone blocking your way.

Emily has a way with words, you think, trying to make yourself feel better about submitting to her will so embarrassingly easily.

“You’re sure it’s fine?” You ask, nuzzling your cheek into her palm.

It’s Emily’s turn to roll her eyes. “No, sorry, we’ve exchanged bodily fluids but I draw the line at you wearing my clothes.”

Her dry tone makes you want to kiss her—just to shut her up. So you do, because you’re officially not going home and the weekend is stretched out in front of you and you’re not going to waste a single precious second with your girlfriend.

She smiles into the kiss, sensing her victory, and you can’t even be mad about it.

“You’re such a fucking smartass.” You murmur against her lips anyway.

Emily grins. “All part of my charm,” she says as she drags you back to her room, her fingers fitting themselves between yours. Sergio trots beside you as you pad into her room, winding his way around Emily’s ankles just as she’s opening her closet door.

She ignores the cat and rifles through her closet, searching for a sweater that looks appropriately your size. Seeing as she’s busy searching, you bend down and pick up Sergio instead, lavishing him with the attention Emily is withholding.

“Emily can be so mean, huh, Serg?” You whisper, scratching behind the cat’s ears. He melts into a purring puddle in your arms, yellow eyes slitting closed. “She bullies you into doing whatever she wants, and she does it with the prettiest brown eyes you can’t ever say no to.” You cuddle Sergio to your chest as Emily turns, a smile playing on her lips and a sweater held in her hand.

“I heard all of that.”

“Aw, damn it,” you blow a melodramatic sigh, “even the part about your pretty eyes?”

A light blush stains her cheeks pink. “Everything.” She shoves the sweater into your chest, above Sergio. The cat meows in protest and you laugh, throwing the sweater over your shoulder and letting him down.

——

You can’t even reach the ladle.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need my arms.” The smile is audible in your voice.

You can’t pretend not to love this. Ever since you came out of the bathroom wearing Emily’s sweater, she’s been wrapped around you like a vine. The sweater itself is warm and comfortable, smelling faintly of her, and it brings with it a noticeable bonus: Emily’s clinginess. 

Her head is buried in your neck now, her arms wrapped around you and trapping your arms to your sides.

“Is it a matter of utmost importance?” She murmurs into your neck. A small kiss is dropped there, her soft lips brushing against your skin.

“Afraid so.” 

Emily sighs. She loosens her grip and frees your arms just enough that you can scoop the pancake batter into the pan. When a perfect circle starts to sizzle, bubbles popping along its edge, you turn to face the brunette holding you hostage.

Her arms wrap around your neck and she immediately presses her body into yours. You grin as you hug her back, one of your hands sliding into her mussed hair.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re clingy?” You whisper, your voice teasing as you brush a kiss on her hairline.

“Never.” Emily’s voice is muffled into the collar of your sweater.

The pancake starts to smell, so you turn carefully with Emily still in your arms and free one of your hands to flip it. It’s a darker brown, evidently showing your neglect.

“So you’re just like this with me?” You stroke her hair, twirling a dark strand around your finger. Emily nuzzles deeper into your neck, apparently trying to crawl under your skin.

“Mhm. You look good in my clothes.” She turns her head and her lips catch the edge of your jaw.

“So that’s what this is about,” you laugh, sliding the overcooked pancake off the griddle and onto a plate. Emily’s hands sneak under the hem of your—her—sweater, and you feel her lips turn up in a smile as she hums.

“It’s just a small part of it,” she admits quietly, turning her head to watch you scoop out another pancake onto the pan.

“La razón principal es porque te amo.”

You don’t understand what she says, but with her soft voice and tender touches, the message comes across more than clear. Squeezing her waist, you kiss her brow.

“I love you too.”

taglist: @suckerforcate

[druidrot]

the shadow in the valley

pairing: gale dekarios/reader (f/m)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: angst, slight death and descriptions of the void, gale gets his munch on, he calls reader tav ONCE (once), a fun little twist on gale's confession

rating: explicit - MDNI

Summary:

“Ah, so you return to us once more,” he teases, though his voice is tinged with something unplaceable. “You gave us all quite the scare.” 

“You look tired,” you respond simply, careful of the loaded statement. 

He barks out a disbelieving little chuckle, sighing as he runs a hand over his eyes. “Yes, well, sleep eludes one when they worry over the life of their dearest companion.” 

That same stirring from before, back in that dreaded town, burns in your chest again. You can’t help it, so you find yourself teasing him. 

“Dearest companion, hmm?” Even though your voice is still a bit hoarse, you manage to sound coy. “I seem to remember you telling me you love me.”

You delight in the way the flush blooms from his neck to his face as he clears his throat. “Erm, well, yes, I suppose I did.”

At this point, the only thing you can focus on is the cold; dreadful, painful cold. 

It is as if ice twists itself down to your very core, gnawing at bone, sinew, blood. You think you have never felt so cold, so empty. Your ears ring and the pressure in your head is all-encompassing. It is as though you are in deep water; deep, frigid, unrelenting water. You think you register shouting through the overwhelming fog, but you can’t find the cognizance to concentrate on it. 

You feel the cold intensify, your insides twisting and coiling in discomfort. Then, you no longer feel even your own heartbeat, no longer feel the pain that so tortures you. Even the ringing in your ears fades, the sound becoming distant, discordant. It is like you sink further, deeper, like nothing surrounds you but a deep, endless abyss. 

What’s left of your mind wanders and you are weightless, thoughtless, nameless. Not even the cold bothers you anymore, nor the weight that encumbers your soul. This must be what death is. You can’t rationalize it, can’t name it anymore, but intrinsically some part of your soul recognizes that you float in the palms of Kelemvor.

Death is absence, peace. You are naught but the abyss that swallows you, ready to be harvested for the City of Judgment. There is a warm touch that blooms in the recesses of your soul, yet that sickening weight from before begins to return. The cold slowly begins to seep back into your being. The ringing in your ears, the pressure in your mind, even the fluttering of your frantic heart bursts back into existence, a violent cacophony of sensation that has your soul burning. The water that drags you under begins to recede.

With a sickening pop, you are thrust back into yourself. It is jarring, the sensation of returning to life. Your mind reels with memory, how you got here, where you just came from. You gasp, body lurching as that same dreadful cold from before burns through your waking bones. 

“By the gods,” you hear, distantly. “Shadowheart, she’s awake!” 

When your vision comes back into focus, you find that you are cradled in the arms of your resident wizard. His eyes shine with tears in the torchlight, but still he wears a small, tortured smile as he smooths a stray hair away from your forehead. 

“There you are,” he whispers, soft. “Stay with me now, love.”

You want to say something in response but all that comes out is a wet cough. You feel your chest rattle with the weight of it, cringing through the pain. Gale’s eyes harden as he calls for Shadowheart once more. 

You vaguely remember why you came here. The search for the Thorm mausoleum had taken you to the heart of Reithwin town. True to fashion, a pack of hungry shadows and shadow-cursed undead had waited rather patiently for an ambush.  

One wrong move on your part and a lash from a shadow vine sent you careening through the area, the pixie bell in your pocket falling loose during your unexpected flight. You had been cast to an area where the curse was particularly strong, and as you fought the shadows threatening to steal your soul, a wayward wraith shot you with a necrotic spell that sapped you of any strength. It was like being plunged into ice, the last thing you remember before waking up in Gale’s arms. 

You don’t understand why you haven’t been claimed already, but the cold that still engulfs you bodes ill. You can feel yourself slipping again, can feel that sweet call of the void that welcomed you before, the void that promises nothing, absence. 

“Hey, don’t you do this to me again,” you hear, distantly. “Stay with me, my love. Please stay with me.” 

You hum in response, tired. 

“Please,” Gale’s voice is hoarse with tears. Absently, you think you’ve never seen him look so scared before, not even when Mystra basically ordered him to his death. It gnaws at you, his fear. You don’t want him to be scared. 

“Gale,” you whisper, weakly. “It’ll be…just fine.” 

His answering laugh is humorless. “The woman I love lay dying in my arms and still you show remarkable optimism. Quite on the nose for you, yes.” 

Your fluttering heart jumps in your chest. You offer him a small smile, cracked with blood and fear. “You…love me…huh?” 

“So much more than you could ever imagine,” he responds quietly, resolutely. “Which is why I need you to stay alive. I have so much I’d like to share with you.” 

Once again, you find yourself wanting to respond but too weak to do so. Finally, you watch as Shadowheart and Karlach approach Gale, shining little pixie bell nestled between the fingers of your dear tiefling’s hand. Immediately, the cold seems to recede from your bones and you breathe a shaky sigh of relief. 

“Stay with us,” Shadowheart orders, falling to her knees beside you. Her face is streaked with blood and her eyes are steely, but still you see the fear that hides there. You try to offer her a reassuring smile. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she whispers as she presses her hands over your heart. “Without that bell, my magic would do little to heal you. This curse is much too potent once you’ve been touched by it. I can do enough to ensure we make it back to Last Light. I don’t have much strength left so Isobel will have to do the rest.” 

You try to nod but the weariness you feel overtakes you. You let out a soft sound before giving into the warmth of the cleric’s magic, Gale’s worried eyes the last thing you see before you slip back into the welcoming darkness. 

-

This time you wake in peace. 

The bed under you is delightfully plush, even though it’s naught but straw and hay. You are pleasantly warm under the blankets, that wretched cold from earlier nowhere to be felt. Your body aches minutely, muscles sore and strained, but still you are so very much alive. You breathe a welcome sigh of relief, opening your eyes to the familiar interior of The Last Light Inn. The small room you occupy is a quaint bedroom, just a bed, a few wardrobes, and a small chair by the bed. It takes a moment for your mind to fully clear but when it does, you register the presence of your favorite wizard, sitting vigil in said little chair at the bedside. He offers you a grateful smile when you meet his tender gaze. 

“Ah, so you return to us once more,” he teases, though his voice is tinged with something unplaceable. “You gave us all quite the scare.” 

“You look tired,” you respond simply, careful of the loaded statement. 

He barks out a disbelieving little chuckle, sighing as he runs a hand over his eyes. “Yes, well, sleep eludes one when they worry over the life of their dearest companion.” 

That same stirring from before, back in that dreaded town, burns in your chest again. You can’t help it, so you find yourself teasing him. 

“Dearest companion, hmm?” Even though your voice is still a bit hoarse, you manage to sound coy. “I seem to remember you telling me you love me.”

You delight in the way the flush blooms from his neck to his face as he clears his throat. “Erm, well, yes, I suppose I did.” 

You mewl softly. “While you thought I was dying in your arms, you told me you loved me.”

“I was there,” he reminds you, embarrassed. “And yes, I did tell you I loved you while you were dying in my arms. I could not allow you to pass on ignorant of what you mean to me.” 

Something warm settles in the pit of your belly and you can’t help the way your heart sings in your chest. You find yourself sitting up, laughing softly as he scrambles to help you. His arms are solid at your sides, warm, and when the impulse hits you to cradle his face in your hands and pull him close, you do. 

“Well, I’m still alive,” you breathe, blissfully aware of the way his pupils dilate. “Care to repeat it?"

Gale offers a tepid smile. He shifts so he sits on the bed with you, mindful of your sore body. It takes him a moment to muster his resolve, and you wait patiently as he mulls over what he would like to say to you. When he seems to have settled on something, he takes your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“I had a plan,” he begins, gently. “I wanted to do this the right way, but it seems fate has other plans. If we were home, I would have taken you out to explore the wonders Waterdeep has to offer, wooing you over wine and weave. But this is what we have, here, now. You must know how special you are to me, Tav. I’m…I’m in love with you.”

Something warm breaks open in your chest. You don’t think you could find the words to say to him if you wanted to, so you do the next best thing. Leaning forward, you pull him as close to you as you can get him and you press your lips against his in a wanting, searing kiss. He groans softly, lips opening under yours instantly. His hand tangles in your hair and he presses even closer, still mindful of your sore body. 

Gale is a fervent kisser. He is a bit unpracticed, sure, but he more than makes up for it with the devotion that drives his lips. He presses you back into the plush blankets, careful to keep your body caged beneath him. He breaks the kiss after a few succulent moments, grinning down at you oh-so-charmingly. 

“If circumstances were different, I’d show you pleasures beyond your wildest imaginings,” he whispers, leaning down to smatter delicious kisses along your collarbone. “But time is short and you are still weak, not yet wholly mended. I would still like to express my love for you, if you are of a willing mind. I do believe I have an idea.” 

You coo softly as his teeth nip at your skin. The brush of his beard burning against your sensitive neck leaves you gasping, decadent heat blooming through you, lighting you on fire. He seems to like the response, chuckling darkly as he continues his ministrations. 

“Come now, love,” he rasps, moving back to kiss at your lips. “I cannot oblige you if you don’t give me an answer.” 

His kiss is distracting, consuming, but you muster the will to nod your head. “Yes, Gale. Please, anything. Make me feel alive.”

He groans in response. It is broken, desperate, and you find the urgency behind his next kiss breathtaking. So long have you waited for this moment, for the heat of his body against yours, the warm press of his adoring kiss. You want for nothing in this moment, just the building heat that seems to roar between you both. He allows himself to be greedy, stealing the breath straight from your lungs as his hands begin to caress you: your hips, your thighs, your ribcage. He is everywhere all at once, but you don't mind. You are lost to him, have been lost to him since the moment you pulled him out of that portal way back when. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve yearned for you,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, brushing aside the fabric at your collarbone so he can continue along his path. “I am a man starved.”

You moan quietly. “Gale…”

You can feel him grin against your skin. “Yes, my star, I hear you. I cannot wait any longer, either.”

He pushes up on his arms, beginning a slow, sensual descent to the open space between your legs. Once he is settled, his warm hands splay across your belly, handsome face heavy with desire. His eyes are molten pools of heat, yearning, desperation.

“Long has it been since I’ve delved into pleasures of the flesh,” he starts, a twinkle in those dark eyes. “But if you would allow me, I would like to indulge the both of us tonight.”

You swallow a heap of air. “Whatever you desire, Gale, please.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he responds with a grin, heavy hands gliding lower. “If it is your wish, I would like to feast on you tonight, my love. A promise of more to come, when time should allow it.”

“Gale,” you whimper, soft. “I think I should like that very much.” 

He practically glows with relief. You both recognize that the time for words has very much passed, so he makes quick work divesting you of your trousers. A wave of embarrassment washes over you - you are filthy, after all, covered in blood and muck and who knows what else - but your fears are quickly washed away when you take stock of him. HIs eyes are trained at the crux of your panties, right where your sopping cunt weeps through the fabric. He takes a heavy breath, hooded eyes peeking up to catch your heated gaze. 

“I will enjoy myself very, very much,” he growls, leaning forward to lick a hot stripe right over the fabric. You can’t help the gasp you let out, body tensing in anticipation. His answering laugh is low, heady with his desire. He is quick to free you of your panties, eyes softening as he’s greeted by the glistening warmth of your cunt. You want to be embarrassed, want to close your legs and offer yourself another night, but the way he stares at you keeps you rooted in place. He licks his lips, groaning softly as you let out a small, inadvertent moan. 

“If it is too much, tell me to stop,” he orders, leaning forwards. “Otherwise, I plan to leave you absolutely shattered.” 

You don’t have time to respond. Gale’s tongue is hot when he presses it against your clit, delicate at first: a test. He grunts, and soon he takes to licking long stripes through your folds, catching the gathered slick on his tongue. It is positively sinful the way he moves, so slow and deliberate. His tongue is wet, warm, heavy. You mewl as he returns to your clit, sucking softly as his fingers tease at your folds. Considering you now know what death feels like, this is the closest you think you’ll ever get to heaven. 

His onslaught is pure, unadulterated delight. His beard scratches at your cunt deliciously, glistening with the shine of your desire. He is enthusiastic in his ministrations, lapping at you like a man starved, which by his own words, he is. His fingers find your clit, and before you can register it, his tongue dips down into the heat of your entrance. You cry out, hips canting up as he groans in approval. His thumb rubs delicious circles around your clit, tongue dipping in and out of your hole so wantonly you might combust. 

“That’s it,” he croons, taking a moment to take a breath, thumb still relentlessly at your clit. “Chase it, my love. Use me for your pleasure.” 

You nearly cry. He moves back to gentle laps at your clit with his tongue, fingers dipping dangerously low before he breaches your entrance with the tip of a finger. You mewl, body arching off the bed when he plunges the whole digit in. Were he anyone else, you think you’d be embarrassed by the squelch of your quivering cunt. Instead, you find it adds to your arousal, the sound a beautiful cadence, evidence of your undoing at his hands. He plunges another finger in, still slurping and sucking at your sweet little bundle of nerves. He curls those two fingers up, searching for a moment until he finds the spot that has you seeing stars. 

“You are maddeningly beautiful like this,” he whispers, pulling away to level you with a lovesick grin, still plundering away with his fingers. “I can’t wait to ravish you properly, my star. The sight of you wrapped around my cock would be most rapturous indeed.” 

You groan, voice sticky with need. He returns his full attention back to your cunt, sighing happily as he wraps his lips around your engorged clit. He picks up the pace of his fingers, adding a third digit when you begin to pant like a madwoman. He sucks harshly at your clit, groaning his own pleasure when a spasm rocks through you. His fingers hit deliciously deep, his mouth on your clit only adding to the rapid fire that begins to burn through your cunt. 

You feel yourself clench around his fingers, a telltale sign you’re close. Gale doesn’t miss a beat. His fingers take to a wicked pace, his tongue moving around your clit in filthy, sinful circles. It doesn’t take much more to send you over the edge you suddenly find yourself careening over. You gasp brokenly, hips trying to cant away from him as he finishes you off. 

“Just like that,” he praises, rather smugly. “Let yourself go, my love, let yourself release.” 

It is like a rubber band snaps, the pressure in your cunt growing until it explodes. You almost quake with the intensity of your cunt bearing down on his fingers, slick pooling around them in thick, delicious rivulets. Sensation leaves you all at once, and when you finally come back to yourself, Gale hovers over you with a knowing smile, beard still glistening, fingers still shining with your arousal. 

He licks them clean, of course, and you mewl as your cunt clenches around nothing. He laughs adoringly, smoothing your hair down with the hand that wasn't inside of you. 

“You are absolutely divine,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you despite the slick gathered around his face. “Nothing or no one in the planes could ever compare.” 

You feel yourself flush but still you offer him a warm smile. “Thank you, Gale. Truly.” 

“Make no mention of it,” he returns, humbly. “This was a gift for me as well. I only hope that it will not be the last time you and I can be alone together like this.” 

You grin coquettishly. “Gale, I think I’m spoiled for anyone else. I love you, I want you. At this point, it will take Ao himself to tear me from you.” 

“Then I am a man most lucky,” he concedes, kissing you once more. “Now, as much as I’d love to keep you to myself like this, I believe the others are waiting for your recovery. We should clean you up and get you something to eat. You still need to recover your strength if we are to continue our journey.” 

He helps you back into your trousers and with a quick cast of prestidigitation, you find yourselves blessedly free of the cum, blood, and dirt miring both of you. You smile graciously as he helps you to your feet. 

“I meant it when I said I love you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his embrace. “I really thought I was going to lose you.” 

“I’m here now,” you respond, resolutely. “And I won’t let my guard down again, of that I can assure you. We will find a way to keep you here with me, too. I cannot lose you, Gale. Not now.” 

He smiles sadly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Come now, my love. That conversation is best saved for the morning. Let us return to our companions tonight, hmm? They are eager to see you and while you are delightfully decadent, I find myself hungering for some real food.” 

It is easy to concede to him tonight. You know the stakes are ever-raising but you also know that you are more than equipped to handle them. For now, you allow yourself this sweet little respite with the man you love, end of the world be damned. So you smile and offer a sweet kiss, taking his hand as you begin the walk back to your waiting companions.  

۵۵۵۵۵

welp, this was born from pure wish fulfillment so i hope u enjoy. crossposted on my ao3! this was inspired by a prompt from one of the recent lists i reblogged: Prompt #1025: "You told me you loved me." "Yes." "While you thought I was dying in your arms." "Yes." "Well, I’m still alive. Care to repeat that?"

as usual, requests are open! comments, reblogs, and follows are greatly appreciated!

[ggsbooks123]

Memories — part two of memory garden

warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)

summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?

a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!

— —

The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.

I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.

My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.

He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.

“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.

I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.

“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…

“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.

When will i be free?

The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.

“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”

I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.

“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.

“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.

She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.

I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.

“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.

How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.

“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.

I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”

And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.

Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”

I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”

She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.

“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.

After…

— —

The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.

One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.

Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.

Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.

Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.

“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.

He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.

We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.

I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.

The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.

I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.

It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.

I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.

I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!

I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.

“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”

He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!

Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”

His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?

I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.

I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”

The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.

“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.

“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.

More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.

I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.

The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.

If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.

No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.

I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.

A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.

Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.

We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.

Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.

Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.

He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.

I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.

I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”

An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.

“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.

I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.

I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.

The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.

No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.

I had time.

It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.

“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-

I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.

His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.

I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.

Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.

I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.

You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.

— —

An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.

Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.

I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.

I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.

All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.

Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.

Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”

I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.

The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.

You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.

I nearly threw up.

My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.

And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.

I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.

I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.

Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.

His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.

I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.

“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.

I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.

Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”

In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”

“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”

I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.

“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“

“No”

My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?

My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”

Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.

A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”

I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”

And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.

It was time to go underground

—

- … sooo part three?!?

—

DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX

taglist girlies💓: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18