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#why do i never have tags why am i like this
racew1nn3rs · 14 hours
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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪. (𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦) 🍊
⤷ summary: saudi arabian and australian grands prix happen! y/n starts making vlogs for the races and it reveals more about her and a certain driver's feelings than she hoped, not that she notices. poor oscar's stuck in the middle of it all but he's trying his best!
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liked by f1, landonorris, and 55,007 others
tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri
mclaren saudi arabia, you were beautiful even if the results weren't! ready for what's to come
12,567 comments
user1 admin not using a single nice photo of the drivers 😭
user2 admin be honest is this your revenge era
mclaren well, yes!
user3 HELP MEEEE
user4 the way lando looks at her 😭
user5 this is a place of business
user6 oscar looks petrified 💀
mclaren dw guys we're still training him!
oscarpiastri wtf why would u say it like that, i'm not a dog
mclaren full-time team mascot, part time driver
user7 admin drop the insta your so pretty 😭😭
user8 no literally, content of her WHERE
mclaren ynusername 🤲🏼
user9 LETS FUCKING GO
user10 HER DISSING HER OWN TEAM 💀 THEY'RE GONNA FIRE YOU GIRL
mclaren they don't pay me to LIE
user11 CRAZYY
user12 LANDO IS NEVER GETTING A GOOD PIC EVER AGAIN 😭
mclaren what can i say, i am no mans peace 🥱
user13 icon
landonorris reporting you to hr
mclaren for what
landonorris idk harrassment or something
mclaren ok keyboard warrior, lets calm down 💀
user14 KEYBOARD WARRIOR HELEPSJSM
user15 i vote admin just takes over and we don't even get driver pictures
user16 real and true
user17 i fear we may have lost the plot
user18 thoughts on today's results
mclaren i'm trying to be positive in general but man
user19 LMAOOOOO
user20 ik the pr department is shaking in their boots after every post notif
mclaren probably! but unfortunately for everyone, i am going to keep doing whatever i want
user21 no more lando beef, mclaren admin?
mclaren i forget but i never forgive. i forgot why we were fighting but i stay hating bitches 🥱
landonorris literally WHAT DID I DO
mclaren IDK BUT IK U PISSED ME OFF 🫵
oscarpiastri diabolical photo choice
oscarpiastri i look like a little kid on picture day
mclaren so basically your everyday look
oscarpiastri yk what you are making this work environment very hostile
mclaren i can make it more hostile if you want 🤨
oscarpiastri nevermind!!!
maxfewtrell most flattering lando picture i've seen in years
mclaren that's saying something isn't it 🤩
user22 i went to haterville and they all knew you admin
mclaren they actually just elected me mayor there!!! 💪🏻
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liked by bsfusername, landonorris, and 17,800 others
ynusername if my admin duties don't kill me, i promise my caffeine addiction will! (:
3,422 comments
user23 be honest, how many coffees have you had today
ynusername 3!
user24 oh that's not that bad
ynusername +5
user24 JESUS CHRSUT
bsfusername at this point i think meth would be healthier
ynusername honestly yeah
ynusername thanks for the suggestion!!
user25 nooo admin don't do meth ur so sexy aha
ynusername that just made me want to do meth more
landonorris so what i'm hearing is buying you an espresso machine would get me in your good graces 😇
user26 oh brother here he goes
ynusername you must be deaf then
landonorris 😔 2 espresso machines?
ynusername i don't want ur dirty espresso machines 🙄
oscarpiastri now what car is that 🫵
ynusername SHHHHH
oscarpiastri TRAITOR
bsf2username when your not busy being super sexy on a race track, can we go thrifting and get sweetgreen and overpriced coffee 🙏🏼🙏🏼
ynusername this could've been an email, get this out of my comments 💀
ynusername but yeah obviously
user27 admin vlogs when 😔
ynusername SOON!!! very very soon
user28 mother feeding us once again
ynusername brb, adding single mom who works two jobs, loves her kids, and never stops to my resume
danielricciardo coffee recipe where?
ynusername in your dms now ‼️
danielricciardo is this flirting
ynusername no if i was flirting i would've told you to ask me in person, i'm just being charitable
landonorris can i get the coffee recipe too then 🤲🏼
ynusername wdy want next, my mugs too? keep on walking charity case
user29 CHARITY CASE IS CRAZYDFHAJ
user30 she's so effortlessly funny and mean i love her
user31 i feel like this is so unprofessional /:
ynusername babe professional where, you are on??? my personal?? account???
user32 maybe she's born with it, maybe it's the fact that she's consumed enough caffeine to tranquelize a horse
user33 oh please the horse would be dead
ynusername call an ambulance, BUT NOT FOR ME ‼️💪🏻🗣️
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ynusername posted to story!
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(caption: melbourne vlog out now on youtube, go watch!!)
15,221 replies
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"This thing better be working," could be heard slightly muffled in between vague shuffling sounds. After a second or two of incoherent noise, the camera footage finally came on. Y/N smiled at herself in the camera as the recording light blinked to life, and raised her hand victoriously. She grabbed the smile microphone in front of her and laughed, "It looks like everything is working. Thank God, I wouldn't have known how to fix it otherwise."
"Alright everybody, welcome to the first race weekend vlog hosted by me! Your favorite McLaren admin and social manager. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to go about this, but now I think I settled on a format that will work," She explained as she walked around the small, clean kitchen that was within frame of the camera. She pulled a glass jar out of her cabinets and left it on the counter before pulling a jug of cold brew and a cartridge of milk out of her fridge.
"It is currently 7:30 A.M on March 29th, and I have a flight to Melbourne in 3 hours. I'm already packed and ready for this weekend, but I wanted to get an introduction filmed and I wanted to take a shower before I left." Y/N paused for a moment as she poured the coffee into her mason jar until she seemed satisfied and began to add some milk. "I am totally exhausted so this is probably cup one of like," she laughed, "I don't know seven probably. And this is a pretty big jar I won't lie."
"The race weekend doesn't technically start until Friday, so I'll be getting there a bit early, but I wanted to film some content before the race weekend gets really hectic, so McLaren is sending me a little bit earlier. I'm excited though! I love the heat, even if I live in London the antithesis of Australian weather," she taste-tested her coffee and hummed in delight.
"God I really never miss with this stuff," she said contently. "Anyway, it's a bit of an early start today, but I'll have plenty of time to sleep on the fight. I mean can you believe that London to Melbourne is a nearly 22 hours," she scoffed. "I vote that we start making all of the races in one place so I don't have to feel jet lag more painful than the force of 1,000 suns every other weekend. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled awkwardly, "I love my job McLaren please don't fire me."
Abruptly an orange tabby cat came into the frame of the camera, causing Y/N to abruptly grab her glass jar in the hopes of avoiding a mess. She gasped, but laughed as the cat scampered off as quickly as it had come. She shook her head fondly.
"That, ladies and gentleman, was Cali! My cat. She's literally my baby, and I love her more than anything else on this earth. However, she does have an affinity for hitting things off of counters and breaking them. She also hates men and nearly all other animals, so she's basically the world's biggest hazard to society. She's a good girl, I love her." Y/N explained between sips of coffee as she stared wistfully past the the frame of the camera, where it could be assumed Cali had gone.
Abruptly an alarm went off and Y/N threw her head back with a groan.
"That means I have to get in the shower and get ready so I can leave on time," she said, before taking a few more sips of coffee. "I'm going to go do that, and the next time you'll hear my beautiful voice will be at the Melbourne Airport! Cue the travel montage!"
An assortment of clips follow. Y/N is seen dragging her luggage through Heathrow Airport. Y/N is seen ordering another coffee at the airport, finishing the coffee, and ordering another before her flight. Y/N is seen responding to emails from her airplane seat, editing video footage, and responding to instragram and twitter comments. Footage is shown outside the plane window of a cloudy, blue sky and a time lapse is shown as the sky grows beautiful shades of pink and red before becoming a starry-night sky. Y/N is seen cozy in a throw blanket and a travel pillow, presumably asleep with headphones on. Y/N is shown pulling her luggage through the airport once again, with a brand new coffee cup in hand. She smiles, taking a sip before she is seen settled down in a seat in the bustling airport.
"Twenty-two or so hours later and I have finally landed in Melbourne. I'm waiting for my Uber to get here so I can finally be taken to my hotel to drop my stuff off. I have a meeting with the McLaren drivers in two hours, but luckily I slept really well on the plane. I don't know how else I would be able to deal with Lando Norris. I'm going to finish this coffee in order to maximize my tolerance for the next few hours, but I suspect I'll be getting a new coffee before I reach that meeting. My addiction truly knows no bounds," she laughs, trying to ignore the people vaguely shown within frame that are staring at her speaking to a camera.
The camera cuts abruptly and the waiting screen from SpongeBob flashes on the screen, including the narrator's voice reading "2 hours later."
Y/N is shown once again in new clothes, a new coffee cup in hand, and luggage replaced by a small canvas bag. Her comfortable plane clothes have been swapped out for jean shorts and a plain white tank-top. Her hair is clipped back out of her face, and she is adorned with simple gold jewelry and light makeup.
Y/N smiles at the camera as she walks, bustling and talking heard around her, before whispering into the small microphone, "I have arrived at the McLaren garage. It is now time to meet with Lord Lando and workplace mascot Oscar Piastri," the titles slip off her tongue sarcastically and she doesn't bother suppressing an eye-roll.
In the next clip, Oscar and Lando are seen seated on either side of her as they sit in what seems like a board-room. Lando leans over and whispers something that the camera doesn't pick up and Oscar laughs while Y/N grimaces and reaches forward to readjust the camera. When the camera comes back on, Lando and Oscar are seated together on the left of Y/N as she faces on angle toward both them and the camera.
"Don't just sit there and look pretty, say hello to the camera boys," Y/N says and Oscar cackles at the disgruntled look on Lando's face.
"Is that your way of calling me pretty Y/N," Lando chokes out between laughs, and Y/N scoffs with an eye-roll.
"I was actually talking about Oscar, but whatever floats your little papaya boat Norris," Y/N deadpans and Oscar doubles over from the force of his laughter at the pout on Lando's face.
"That's not nice at all, I hope you know that. I think I am sitting here very prettily, thank you very much," Lando says, leaning into the girl next to him to speak into her microphone.
Y/N draws the microphone back, swatting him away, "Yes, yes quite prettily," Y/N mocks in a British accent.
Oscar, still trying to recover, joins in, "Pretty little Lando Norris," and Y/N laughs jovially, reaching across Lando as if the boy weren't there to high-five the Austrialian driver.
"Bullies, the lot of you," Lando mumbles and Y/N brushes off his comment without response before finally facing the camera.
"Anyway, welcome to the first McLaren race weekend vlog. I'm Y/N L/N, the best media manager in the whole god damn world, and this is Lando Norris, the biggest pain in my ass, and Oscar Piastri, the second biggest pain in my ass. How are you feeling about Melbourne boys?" Y/N questions, transitioning smoothly much to the British driver's chagrin.
"Feeling proud to be the second biggest pain in the ass and not the first. Probably the only time i've been glad to get second actually," Oscar comments and Y/N laughs as Lando shakes his head in disappointment.
"But in all seriousness it is good to be home, this is easily my favorite race of the year seeing as it's my home race and i'm looking forward to, hopefully, good results from our team," Oscar supplies and Y/N nods along to his words.
"Yes, Australia, we are in you and we are happy about it," both boys choked out a laugh at the manager's sexual innuendo and Oscar quickly covered his mouth with his hand so as not to react too much. "What about you Lando what are you feeling," Y/N questioned, leaning the small microphone to the boy.
"Feeling like that was a stupid joke. And also like I am going to be getting P1 this weekend. I can feel it in my bones."
"Leave my jokes alone Lando, you're not being paid to be a critic," she scoffed, "and if I recall, you said the same thing in Saudi Arabia not that long ago. What's changed now?"
Lando rolled his eyes, "What's changed is that we're in Australia now and I'm feeling much more confident."
"Well thank god for that," Y/N supplied unhelpfully as Oscar laughed.
"Now, what we really came here for, it's time to film a video for this channel, it's going to be a fan Q and A, I picked the questions. By the time this vlog is up, the QnA should've already been posted. So feel free to stop watching this and to go watch that or whatever," Y/N commented. "After that we're going to film a TikTok challenge," both and Lando and Oscar grimaced, but Y/N ignored their dismay at the idea of fiming yet another TikTok, so cue the montage! Filming time!" Y/N exclaimed and the screen transitioned to a new series of clips.
In the first clip Oscar and Lando were sitting in two chairs while Y/N sat across from them with a set of notecards.
"Lando, this question from user "ln4mania" asks, "Are you and admin actually friends? Or is the online beef real? The people demand answers!" Y/N reads off with a laugh.
"Do you hear that, the people demand answers Lando! Don't keep them waiting!" Oscar and Y/N laugh as Lando shakes his head and tucks his face into his hands.
"There is no beef, guys. Me and admin, or rather me and Y/N are just fine. We hadn't even actually met when that happened," Lando supplied between laughs. Y/N looked at the camera and rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, faux-disagreeing with the boy.
She ignored the simmering pit of disappointment in her stomach. She did in fact have a problem with entitled little Lando Norris who still gave her side-eyed looks and judgmental stares whenever he saw her. If that wasn't humiliating enough, Oscar had clearly noticed it too, which just gave Y/N the feeling that she wasn't being taken seriously at all now that Oscar understood Lando's lack of respect for Y/N. However that didn't matter in the current moment. All that mattered was making this video.
The next clip showed Lando and Oscar sitting at a table with bowls of water in front of them and towels strewn across a chair just within frame of the camera. Y/N stood behind them, hands rested in their hair as she reacted to the prompts being read by someone, an unnamed media intern, off-camera.
"Who is harder to make videos with?" The intern asked and Y/N huffed out a laugh as she let her hands fully grasp Lando's curls and push him into the water quickly. He sputtered, trying to blink the water out of his eyes as Y/N laughed at the wet-puppy dog look he was sporting.
Y/N tried to shake the ridiculous desire to let her hands run through the soft curls underneath her finger tips. Curse Lando and whatever stupidly good, rich-person hair routine he used that made him smell good and look good, and... whatever.
Lando, blinking water out of his eyes, was now undoubtedly certain that being damn-near waterboarded was worth it if it meant that Y/N would laugh like that again. He knew Oscar would harass him again later for being "down-bad" or something along those lines- as he had done every time he caught the man staring-, but as he caught a glimpse of Y/N's bright smile and shaking shoulders, he found he didn't really care.
The next clip showed Oscar, Lando, Y/N, and a laughing media intern as they all dried off- somehow all having become wet through the course of filming. Y/N dried herself off quickly, taking a sip of her newly refilled coffee, not seeing the way that only the camera and Oscar saw Lando stared at her until the driver was nudged back into focus on drying himself off.
A title-card once again came on the screen with white words on a photo collage of Australian grand-prix candids that Y/N had taken, reading "Race montage? More likely than you'd think."
Footage was shown of the free practice sessions. Oscar and Lando getting in and out of their cars. Engineers along the pit wall going over data. The team speaking incoherently, going over the game plan for Sunday's race. Oscar and Lando greeting fans, signing merch, and posing for photos. Y/N smiling and waving at a cheering crowd of people before staring at the camera incredulously with a small caption reading: "Omg she's famous your honor". More clips showed Lando laughing as Oscar tossed grapes and Lando moved to catch them with his mouth. Lando nearly choking as Y/N cackled in the background. Multiple clips showing Y/N with a fresh coffee, and another... and another, as Oscar's face in the background grew with concern. Zak Brown explaining to Y/N the dangers of caffeine overdose, and the need for moderation. Y/N explaining to Zak Brown that without coffee she would simply collapse and die, which the camera showed did nothing to ease her concern. Y/N getting caps signed by the drivers for fans and walking away with intricate friendship bracelets decorating her wrists.
And finally footage of the race. The engineers in the garage. The pit-crew changing tires. The cars racing past as Y/N watched attentively. Footage of the crowd as they cheered when the cars whizzed past. Smiling faces of fans. Y/N's cheers as Oscar and Lando passed. The smiling faces of McLaren employees as Lando and Oscar crossed the checkered flag in P6 and P8 respectively.
Y/N accepting hugs from both drivers, ignoring the burning sensation in her stomach as Lando wrapped his arms around her with a smile and a laugh. Y/N calling Lando smelly and telling him to go wash off if he wants to hug her next time, and him rolling his eyes at her fondly before making a face at the camera. The podium celebration is shown and Y/N smiles as the anthem plays, even though it's not for her own team.
The final clip is shown of Y/N in her hotel room, comfortable in sweats as she sits on the unmade bed.
"Not bad results this week guys! P6 for Lando and P8 for Oscar, which are good points for the team. I'm happy on my end, I think we got some good content filmed, and I am now ready to go to sleep so I can get home to Cali and my own bed quicker. I hope you enjoyed this video, and if you didn't don't tell me because I don't care!" Y/N jokes with a smile.
"Hopefully I will see you all at the next race, if not the race after that! Bye papaya fans, and be sure to follow us on instagram and all of the other social platforms!" Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the list of the social media handles that appeared on her right hand side.
And with that, the camera cut to black.
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 29,145 others
ynusername afraid to report that i fought jetlag and lost 😔 i did sleep for 25 hours straight after melbourne and i had no clue where i was when i woke up! shout out cali for waking me up 🙏🏼 best friend frl
9,547 comments
bsfusername i'm going to try not to be offended by that caption (love you bb cali) but FUCK YOU CAUSE I BOUGHT YOUR ASS BREAKFAST
ynusername my bad! s/o to that bomb ass omlette 🤩
bsfusername never doing shit for you again
user34 that vlog was god tier, how long did that take
ynusername it took 7 hours of editing and years off my life, thanks so much for asking 🥳
maxverstappen1 thanks again for those podium photos! you have a gift for photography 💪🏻
ynusername don't mention it! 👍🏼
ynusername (no seriously, mclaren might behead me)
mclaren beheading is so last year. firing squad. 🗣️
user35 not y/n threatening herself 💀
oscarpiastri suprised your body didn't naturally wake up for coffee
ynusername it did! just 25 hours later
user36 your poor cat was literally starving for a whole day? youre a horrible owner
ynusername let me introduce you to god's greatest creation: the automatic feeder!!! i'm sure they can mail one to whatever fucking rock you live under!
user37 PERIODDDD
user38 me personally? i'd never log on again
user39 she needs a personal channel 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i'd subscribe
user40 her cat is so cute 😭😭😭 gimme that
ynusername 🫵 STAY BACK HEATHEN, NO ONE TOUCHES CALI AND LIVES
user40 my bad fam 🧍🏻‍♀️
user41 i want someone to love me as much as she loves that mean ass cat
landonorris don't you have a job to be doing 💀💀 she slept through a full work day
user42 lando always on her ass and for whattttt
user43 obsessed obsessed obsessed
ynusername i had the day off! but not the guy who was streaming video games coming for me 🥱 talking bout get a job
user44 lando and y/n beefing on insta again? we're so back
user45 at this point instagram comment beef isn't enough, they need to duel or some shit
user46 the caffeine addiction almost got her guys
ynusername i wish it would, then i wouldn't have to work with lando's annoying ass
landonorris I CAN SEE YOUR COMMENTS???
ynusername THAT'S THE POINT
user47 honestly just give her a gun atp, these men test her too damn much
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user48 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S RIGHT HERE
user49 no fr, like let's get back to bed grandma
user50 OP, are you concussed?
user51 no actually cause didn't y/n just say she wanted to khs working with him 💀💀
pastryboy81 that sign can't stop me, because i can't read!
user53 OK I ACTUALLY SEE THE VISION
user54 ARE YOUR EYES CLOSED???!1!1
user55 i fear i totally get it 😔
user56 it's giving enemies to lovers, secret relationship type vibe lowkkkk
user57 no deadass like he hugged her reallll tight
user58 she also hugged oscar 😭😭?? and he has a whole gf
user59 the way she shoved him off and told him he reeked not 5 seconds after 💀 delusion is a disease yall
user60 someone call the f1 gossip pages cause 😗
user61 more like someone call the ward cause somethings real off with yall 🤨
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sorry that this update took forever, i had surgery and recovery has been rougher than i expected! hope you enjoy!!
please leave your thoughts in the comments and feel free to drop a request for your fav in my asks <3
-
𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666
624 notes · View notes
theyluvkarolina · 19 hours
Text
𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍’ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` And then I go and spoil it all, By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you" ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes! (Part of 1K Event!)
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑�� ୨୧ Being Max’s strategist is a experience you’d cherish forever. The constant laughter, friendly teasing, shared smiles after wins, is also something Max would never change. But in Max's case, he see’s nothing of this as simply friendly. But sometimes, words are best kept to oneself.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Max Verstappen x Strategist!Fem!Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ some photos of kelly get used but i blur out her face, rejection, ANGSTY 🥴🥴, a very slight song fic? (they are listening to it so not really a song fic)
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ So so sorry this took longer than expected! My schedule was not my bestie last week 😞 but i have a very special note for my pookie bear ash at the bottom 🫶🫶 (FOLLOW HER ON @maxtermind !! SHE HAS AMAZING WORKS)
1K EVENT MASTERLIST
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2021
y/n_rbstrat ✔︎
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, danielricciardo, and others
y/n_rbstrat Max. Maxie. Max Emilian Verstappen ladies and gentlemen, your 2021 World Champion. I’m so lucky and proud to have been your strategist and I pray it’s this way for years to come. Seeing you grow along with me is something I’m forever grateful for. I love you so much, my best friend 🩷
tagged ; maxverstappen1, redbullracing
2,409 comments
username1 STOP THE MAX CELEBRATION POST :(
username2 what if i started crying rn
username3 “I love you so much, my best friend” hurt.
→ username4 NO BC WTF DO YOU MEAN FRIENDS??? Y/N HAVE YOU SEEN HOW HE LOOKS AT YOU?? → username5 max is punching air.
maxverstappen1 ✔︎ couldn’t have done it without the best strategist ever ❤️
→ y/n_rbstrat ✔︎ and i couldn’t have done it with the best driver ever 😊 ❤️ → landonorris ✔︎ fucking hell just kiss already → username6 HELP LANDO → username7 bro had enough → landonorris ✔︎ trust me if you see these two all the time in person and refuse to acknowledge their feelings, you want it to be done with. → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ what are you talking about?? → landonorris ✔︎ you know. → username8 if they don’t get together i think i might throw myself off the highway → charles_lelerc ✔︎ “best strategist” huh?
username9 max and y/n hugging is my roman empire.
username10 we are all delusional for y/nstappen.
maxverstappen1 ✔︎
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liked by y/n_rbstrat, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and others
maxverstappen1 truly unbelievable. i want to thank red bull, my family, friends, y/n, and everyone else for their support. 2021 World Champion 🏆 🎉
tagged ; y/n_rbstrat, redbullracing
5,305 comments
username11 Y/N GETTING HER OWN MENTION HAS MY HEART 😭
username12 if they don’t date i might cry
username13 the hug 😭 ❤️
username14 i feel so single rn
charles_leclerc ✔︎ congratulations! i hope you remember our deal 😉
→ landonorris ✔︎ why wasn’t I informed about this deal??? → georgerussel63 ✔︎ we all know you can’t keep a secret lando → alexalbon ✔︎ says the one that follows gossip accounts and asks us if we know stuff in the gc. → georgerussel63 ✔︎ im not as bad as charles and pierre… those two do it in public WITHOUT SHAME 😒 → pierregasly ✔︎ DONT DRAG ME INTO THIS → username15 HELLO WHAT IS ALL OF THIS?? → username16 NO BECAUSE I NEED TO BE PART OF THIS F1 GROUP CHAT 😭
y/n_rbstrat ✔︎ stop it max i’m going to cry!! im so proud of you! i would never trade my favorite driver for anything in the world ❤️🥹
→ danielricciardo ✔︎ favorite driver??? what the hell am i?? 🙄 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ the side piece now that you left → danielricciardo ✔︎ uncalled for. → y/n_rbstrat ✔︎ be nice boys pls :( → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ yes ma’am → danielricciardo ✔︎ simp → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ i didn’t know being nice was me being a simp → danielricciardo ✔︎ mate, i saw you literally carrying all her things into the paddock?? you never did that for me → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ last time i checked she’s MY ENGINEER → danielricciardo ✔︎ ugh whatever you say… → username17 guys idk about you but i think max only likes y/n → username18 the way he doe everything for her and she doesn’t see this as love 😭 → username19 i mean she did say in a interview she wasn’t looking for any relationships because of how good her career is doing → username20 idk about anyone else.. but I feel like the day max confesses is the day their relationship comes crashing down. → username21 DON’T START SAYING THIS BS NOW.
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In Person
The heavy, thumping bass reverberates through the walls as you stand in the corner of the club. The club was never your thing. The floors constantly holding spilled drinks and other concoctions, the smell of BO and alcohol overwhelming your senses, the crowded atmosphere filled with sweating people… safe to say if it weren’t for Max dragging you out to be with the team celebrating you would be wrapped in blankets watching some sort of trashy reality TV show.
Max finally made his way over to you, a wide grin plastered on his face, clearly in his element here. He took in the sight of you. Every curve of your body, yevery way your hair falls, the way your eyes twinkle slightly when you notice him, the look of your red lips. He can never get tired of it.
"Hey, glad you made it out," he shouted over the music, the classic rasp in his voice showing as he clapped you on the back trying to hope you haven’t noticed his staring.
You managed a weak smile, feeling out of place amidst the pulsating energy of the club. "Of course," you replied, slightly raising your voice to be heard, “ you think I’d miss celebrating your Championship win?”.
Max gave a smile, “Never. Besides, if you said no, I’d find someway to get you to come over here.”.
You raised a brow at his statement. “Really? How so?”
Max let out a hum as he sloshed his drink in his cup. “Hm… I’m not too sure. Not seeing the cats are a good place to start.”, a smirk tugged at his lips.
Your raised brow turned into a furrow in disbelief, “You wouldn’t dare… not Jimmy and Sassy… they love me!” You exclaimed while Max gave a laugh, running his hand through his blonde stands, well more of him doing a hair-tuck to his nonexistent length. The conversation soon comes to a halt, although the music is booming, it felt as if it is just you and him in the entire world at the moment. It was your own form of silence. A comfortable one.
"How about we get out of here.” He suggested, breaking the silence.
“Leave? Max, we just got here! You said-“
“I asked you to celebrate with me, I never said where. It’s my Championship win after all.” He smiled, his eyes wrinkling from his proposition. “We only met here because this is where the team would be. It’s not as if they would notice we’re gone anyways… they are too wasted to even think.”
You tried to hide your smile but failed as Max extended his hand pressing it against your back, his eyes shining with mischief.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he urged. And suddenly, the pulsating energy of the club faded into the background as if the world outside those doors was beckoning to you.
You both stepped out into the cool night air, and beyond the hustle and bustle of the city, there was a strange serenity. It was as if time slowed down, and you found myself feeling more alive than you had in a long while. Max’s hand felt warm… reassuring… friendly. A steady presence in the midst of the urban chaos.
Being a woman in the industry of Formula One caused many controversies, let alone being a engineer to one of the possible best upcoming drivers in the history of the sport. From the sexist comments from other Formula One fans, to even your own people, co-workers in the workplace. Their degrading looks given to you if you even tried to hold a conversation with them was enough to be said. It wasn’t until a response to a interview did others begin to take you seriously. One that Max himself gave.
"Max, how do you feel about having a new, female engineer like Y/N on your team, especially during such a critical incident like the one with Bottas in Hungary? Do you think her gender affected her performance under pressure and can contribute to this race in Belgium? I mean, women are known to crack more under pressure then men.“ The interviewer asked as the room went quiet, a singular cough reverberating in the room from the tension of the atmosphere becoming so thick you can cut it with a knife.
“Excuse me?” Max questioned, his voice holding a tone filled of disbelief and slight disgust.
“I said, Max, how do you feel about-“
“No, no, I understood what you said I’m not deaf.” Her cut the journalist off making the journalist pause his speech and hold his tongue. “Look, I couldn’t care less about her gender. What matters to me is if she can do the job, which she’s been doing remarkably well. And as for the incident with Bottas in Hungary, she handled the pressure just like any other competent engineer would. It wasn’t her fault. I’ll take the blame for it. Her gender has nothing to do with it. If anything, it adds a fresh perspective to our team, and that’s a good thing. Now if anyone has any other questions like this asshole over here, I would pick another question to do.”
No one dared to speak of you the way the interviewer did.
After the interview, you approached Max who happened to be watching over some data from the sim. Blue eyes focused with such intensity that he didn’t even notice you.
”Max, I wanted to thank you for standing up for me in there. It means a lot to have your support." You commented softly, not wanting to disrupt him due to Max being known for his rather… straightforward and blunt responses.
"No problem. We're a team, and a team supports each other. Your gender shouldn’t matter in the first place. It’s all about weather you can do your job and your doing just fine.” He said matter of fact.
You nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect. You weren’t used to it one bit. But it felt amazing. As if you can actually walk somewhere and not be treated as if you were a piece of dirt.
”Thanks you... I'm glad to be part of this team, and I'll keep giving my best."
A tender look graced your face as you remember the memory, finally gaining a friend in the hell of a industry, but you wouldn’t change it in the world if it meant that you got to meet Max and work with him. While you both walked along the quiet streets, the sounds of the city and the soft glow of the street lights enveloping us in a kind of magical cocoon.
“So… where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” was his only response, making you roll your eyes.
You two continued walking until you reach a secluded area on the white, sandy beach of the UAE. You look up to the dark, noir sky. The sun was long gone and the only shine that hits your skin was the moonlight, complemented by the clusters of stars crafting their own soft glow. Max stared at you as if you were some sort of marble statue, hand crafted by the Greeks.
How can someone be so beautiful?
The humming song from a nearby restaurant or bar was the only sound heard. It was a gentle melody, one that fits the mood so far into the night.
"Care to dance?” Max finally asked, snapping you out of your trance.
“Dance? What are we? In our early 20’s?” You teased, eyes meeting his blue eyes that glisten like the moon’s reflection in the oceans waves.
"Age doesn't define how we have fun," he retorted. You couldn't help but snort a bit, feeling the lightheartedness of the moment.
"Alright, why not?" you agreed, letting him lead you to a spot under the faint light of a nearby lamppost. He placed his calloused hand onto the small of your back, close to your hip just as he did to lead you out of the club, then leading your hand to be placed onto his shoulder
As the music enveloped you, you swayed to the gentle rhythm, feeling the warmth of the sand under your feet and the cool breeze from the ocean as his eyes meet yours.
`` I practice every day, To find some clever lines to say, To make the meaning come true ``
“I’m proud of you you, y’know that?”
“You’ve told me once or twice.”
“It’s true though.” You reassure.
“It’s just as true as me saying how beautiful you are.”
`` But then I think I'll wait Until the evening gets late And I'm alone with you ``
You let out a chuckle. “Smooth Max Emilian Verstappen. Very smooth. Practicing for some girl that caught your eye or something?”
His eyes slightly widen before losing contact with yours, “Maybe I am…”, his cheeks being brushed with a slight red.
“Well she must be a lucky girl. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
It goes faint.
`` The time is right, your perfume fills my head The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue ``
“Can-…” Max starts glancing back at you before cutting himself off choking on his own words.
“What is it, Max?”
“Godverdomme… can I tell you something?”
“Anything. I’m you friend after all.”
Friend.
`` And then I go and spoil it all By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you" ``
"I love you.”
“You… you what?”
Your movement stops.
“I love you Y/N. So much. Ever since you walked in the office I-“
“No… no no no… “
“…What?”
“Max… please tell me your messing with me…”
He is just your friend. But you’re his everything.
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𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ Ash, my love, my pookie, the love of my life, you my love re the reason I’m here today. If it weren’t for you reaching out and becoming friends with me in March, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Whether it be reviewing our work together, watching GP’s together, sending THOSE edits to one another, and even just random rants and talks, I’m glad it was you who I was with when I started my writing journey and I wouldn’t change a thing. I really hope you like this fic, I def tried my best with it 🥹🫶 LOVE YOU LOTS LOVELY 🩷
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rival!seonghwa x fem!reader
Trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety
Content warnings: oral (f receiving), names (baby, sweetheart, pretty), choking, spitting, a little bit of hair pulling, seonghwa is actually obsessed with you
Summary: your colleague-turned-enemy pulls a prank on you.
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: so i actually got this request like a year ago buttttt life happened and i'm just now publishing it. anyways i hope you all enjoy it and will continue to support this blog by reblogging my work and commenting your thoughts! much love, angels. <3
Tags: @bahng-chrizz
Smut below the cut
“I’m sorry, what?” You both said at the same time, eyes wide.
“Yes, unfortunately we only have one room left. We can prepare a walk letter for one of you to take to another hotel just a few minutes away and we will pay for your stay, but unfortunately we are fully booked.” The front desk clerk offered an apologetic smile.
“Okay…um…give us just a moment.” Seonghwa pulled you back from the desk as soon as you spoke, his expression dark.
“I’m not leaving, y/n, I’m fucking exhausted.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest you do. I’m more than happy to turn around and go back home.” You sighed, swiping your hand across your forehead. “Listen, if you’re staying here then I need the car. I don’t give a fuck how we do this, I just want to lay down.” Your lack of snark was concerning to him, given your usual form of communication was bickering.
He was silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “Look, why don’t we both stay? You can cancel your reservation and save yourself the hassle of going somewhere else. I’ll get a rollaway bed and you can have the huge bed.”
Your cheeks flamed at the idea and you weren’t sure if it was due to indignance or something else. Even so, you caved quickly. “Are you sure?”
“We used to be friends, we can manage three nights together.” He rolled his eyes. The words ‘used to be’ hurt for some reason.
“Okay. But any funny business and I’ll hurt you.” You gave a warning glare before stepping back up to the desk. “You can cancel my reservation and give him the room.” You said before excusing yourself, making room for him at the desk.
That was how you’d landed yourself in your current predicament. “I’m a fucking idiot for letting you talk me into this.”
“You’re an idiot for less but okay.” He shrugged as he dropped his bag on the bed. “It’s not my fucking fault they ran out of rollaway beds. It’s also not my fault you’d rather eat rusty nails after having your wisdom teeth removed than share a bed with me.”
“Actually that last part is entirely your fault.” You snorted humorlessly as you rifled through your bag for your pajamas. A cold knot of anxiety settled in your stomach once more when you couldn’t find them. “Oh are you fucking kidding me?” You mumbled to yourself as you checked your bag again. Nothing. “Way to fucking go, y/n.” You sighed and held out your hand. “I need the keys.”
“For what?” Seonghwa asked even as he reached into his pocket.
“I can’t find my fucking pajamas.” You sighed again and he watched with concern as you raked a hand through your hair. “I’m pretty sure I left them on my bed when I was packing.”
Instead of the keys, a shirt landed in your hand. “I’ve got some basketball shorts too. They’ve got a drawstring so they’ll fit.”
“You’re being awfully nice.” You said cautiously. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I’m just not prepared to comfort you if you start crying - by the way, you look like you’re about to.” His usual sass was tinged with something else but you were sure it wasn’t concern.
“I am not.” You huffed before squashing your irritation as he handed you the shorts. “Thank you.” You mumbled begrudgingly as you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Left alone, he heaved out a sigh. What was he doing? He never really hated you, he was just upset over being passed on for the promotion and was mad that you were offered the position when you didn’t apply for it. He was more mad that you didn’t take the offer. He could’ve gotten over his jealousy had you not turned down the position but it felt like a slap in the face that you wouldn’t take something that was being offered to you when he would’ve pounced on the opportunity.
Now he was faced with the uncomfortable reality that he still had feelings for you and would be in extremely close proximity to you for three nights but you couldn’t stand him. Had things not soured between the two of you, he likely would’ve made a move during a trip like this. Now he was left with his feelings and no hope of having anything more than a series of arguments with you.
His heart stumbled to a halt for a brief moment before kicking into overdrive when you came out of the bathroom, hair wet from a quick shower, his clothes dwarfing your frame. Part of him was dying to get his hands on you, to kiss and claim every inch of you. You looked absolutely delectable wearing his clothes and his possessive streak was about to rear its head.
Instead, he cleared his throat and turned away. “It’s about time. Do you always take forever to get dressed after a shower?”
“Well now I'm tempted to take even longer next time. Don’t play with me.” You gave a fake smile as you circled the bed to where your bag still was. You lifted it off the bed and placed it on the floor by the nightstand then turned the sheets back and grabbed the can of disinfectant spray from a shopping bag. The two of you had already stopped by the store and you’d grabbed a small can.
“Is this really necessary?” He frowned in annoyance even as he humored you and followed suit, moving his things and turning his side of the sheets back.
“Yes it’s necessary. Do you know how many people touch these sheets even after they’ve been washed? Or how dirty those laundry rooms actually are? And don’t even get me started on the duvets.” You cringed as you began to spray the bed down, lifting the pillows on your side before circling the bed and working on his side.
“And we’re about to make it dirty by sleeping here. What is your point?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed his clothes from where he’d placed them on the opposite night stand. “Whatever. Have your fun. I’m going to shower.” And with that, he left you alone.
Once you were satisfied, you placed the can back in the bag and crawled into bed, cutting the light on your side off. You drifted off before he was even out of the shower.
When he returned, still toweling his hair, you were fast asleep. He was quick to turn the other light off to keep from disturbing you, even though he wasn’t ready to bed down just yet. He stood over you and watched for a moment, taking in the planes of your face. You looked so worried, so fatigued. What had changed for you in the time that your friendship had fallen apart? He didn’t think too hard about it and got in bed as well.
————————————————
Your presentation had been a failure and you were currently nursing your wounds at the hotel bar, trying to avoid Seonghwa. You knew he’d mock you and you couldn’t handle that at the moment.
You let out a deep sigh when he found you, turning further away from him when he sat beside you. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what? Remind you of how badly you fucked that up?” He paused before feigning apology. “Oops. Too late.”
“Seonghwa please just stop.” You felt a lump forming in your throat and reached into your purse for your wallet.
“Why? You’re the one who screwed up, not me. You can’t seriously expect me to feel bad for you.” He did but he couldn’t stop digging the hole deeper.
“Seriously. Stop.” You forced out, rifling through your wallet as pressure built behind your eyes.
“Listen, I'm sorry you’re not good at public speaking or whatever, but that’s not my problem. It’s not my job to be your bestie.”
“Yeah, fucking obviously.” You finally spat as you tossed down a twenty and stood. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Seonghwa.” Your face was red and your vision was starting to blur with tears so you hurried off towards the elevator, not wanting to let him see you cry.
It wasn’t your fault you bombed the presentation. Your anxiety had choked out every word you’d tried to say so you’d fumbled through each slide and he’d stepped up, covering the information in a more coherent manner. If he’d been anyone else, you would’ve found comfort in the support, but he wasn’t someone who did things because he cared.
You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor before repeatedly smashing the ‘door close’ button but it was too late. He’d managed to get an arm in the door before it shut and stepped inside, an unnerving amount of concern etched on his face. Why was he concerned? He loved seeing you pissed off.
“Y/n…” He reached a hand out but you jerked your arm away as the doors slid shut.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Seonghwa.” Your voice cracked and you turned away so he couldn’t see the tears starting to fall.
“Y/n, stop.” He grabbed your arm more forcefully this time and spun you around. You looked down so he couldn’t see you properly and he just sighed as he pulled you into his chest. “I’m sorry.”
Those two words broke something in you and your shoulders shook with a silent sob. He rubbed circles on your back as you cried into his chest, his familiar scent slowly seeping into your bones and calming you as you finally reached the tenth floor after several minutes. Why the fuck was the elevator so slow anyways?
As soon as the door opened, you untangled yourself from him and headed off towards your room without a word. You weren’t sure what to say.
The second the door was shut, he reached for you again. “Y/n, we need to talk.”
“We’ve needed to talk for two years. Why now?” You were tired of trying to figure out what he wanted. Tired of the fighting that only seemed to encourage his irritating ways.
“Because I'm tired of hurting you.” He sighed, gently squeezing your bare shoulders. His warm hands on your skin offered a measure of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.
“Why? You hate me.”
“I never hated you. I was angry at you.” He corrected, urging you towards the desk chair and forcing you to sit before he propped on the desk. “I didn’t understand how you could pass up such an amazing opportunity and I was angry that you didn’t want it as much as I did. It pissed me off that you could want to miss out.”
“Seonghwa, I never wanted that position. I’m comfortable where I'm at.” You sighed and crossed your legs. “Have you ever considered why I didn't take it?”
“I just said that.”
You ignored his snarky tone and carried on. “Not only did I not want the job, I knew that you did. It was partially out of self-preservation and partially out of respect for you.”
“If you’d respected me as much as you say, you would’ve taken the job and not seemed so ungrateful.” He deadpanned and you felt more tears, this time from frustration.
“I just told you I didn’t want it!” You exclaimed, uncrossing your legs and leaning forwards. “You saw what happened today. That would’ve been every day if I’d taken the promotion. It’s embarrassing and anxiety-inducing, something I frankly don’t need more of. I’m not mentally strong enough for that humiliation. I didn’t want to take it because I knew I’d fail.” You said bitterly as you stood and kicked off your heels. “And for the record, I told them you were a better fit. So if you want someone to be mad at, be mad at them. Not me. I tried to get you the job.” You spat and then you stormed into the bathroom, leaving him sitting in silence.
It took you fifteen minutes to get ready for bed and when you emerged from the bathroom, he was sitting on the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to consider the full reasoning behind you turning down the promotion. I was just so angry that you were chosen and still refused.”
“You’ve always been more ambitious than me. You’re more comfortable in your own skin than I am. More confident.” You shrugged and sat on your side of the bed.
“Which is sad, quite honestly.” He smiled humorlessly. “Listen, I know this is my fault. Can we agree to stop the feud?”
“That depends on you. I don’t instigate, I react. So we can only stop this if you stop trying to get under my skin.” You shrugged and laid down, pulling the sheets up to your chin when he stood. “Now go take a shower.” You hummed and flicked off your lamp.
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep once he left the room but the next morning, you awoke to a strong arm wrapped around your waist. You realized your head was laying on his other arm so you tried to move away but he pulled you in closer. “Seonghwa.” A sleepy grunt was his only acknowledgement. “Why are you cuddling with me?”
“You’re warm.” He hummed, his voice deep with sleep. Holy hell… “Must’ve moved in my sleep.” He hadn’t. He’d been holding you the whole time.
“Okay but you’re awake now. So why are you still holding me?” Your cheeks were rapidly heating at the realization that he was shirtless this time. He made an unconcerned ‘I dunno’ noise and shrugged but made no move to release you. You tried to wriggle away again and his grip tightened.
“Well now I can’t let you go.” His voice was laced with amusement. “Solely because you want me to.”
“Unhand me!” You cried, a smile already on your face as you struggled to get away again. He laughed and pulled you further against him. “Come on, I thought we were gonna act like adults.”
“I never agreed to that. I just said I’d stop being mean.” He pointed out as his fingers dug into your side, earning a soft squeal as you jolted. “And in the spirit of being nice, I won’t exploit your ticklishness right now.”
“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” You rolled your eyes, still smiling even as he finally released you.
“Go get dressed. I’ll make us some coffee.” He hummed. You did as he said, padding to the bathroom after grabbing your clothes. As soon as you were gone, he shot out of bed with a grin, ignoring how perfect you looked in his clothes. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean he couldn’t still prank you.
He brewed the coffee and mixed in the creamer and sugar like you liked - he’d observed you making your coffee many times and knew how you liked it - then dropped in the chocolate. He knew how much you loved chocolate so you’d be thrilled to have it in your coffee. It was like a milkshake with how much creamer was in it.
When you came out a few minutes later, he handed you the cup. “I added something for you.” He hummed, waiting for you to sip the drink, which you did cautiously. Your face lit up at the sweet flavor and you thanked him, not catching the mischief in his smile as you drank in comfortable silence.
“You know, part of me isn’t sure I should trust you just yet.” You admitted a few minutes after finishing your coffee.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to change that, okay?” You nodded and bit your lip as you settled against the headboard. “We’ve got the whole morning free. What do you want to do?”
“Honestly, I kind of want to go back to sleep.” You chuckled as he gathered his clothes to get ready for the day.
“I mean, you could.” He shrugged as he padded to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
In the short amount of time it took him to get ready for the day, you noticed something was off. You were warm and your breathing was picking up. You felt flustered at the memory of his shirtless form, sweats slung low on his hips, and your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. Why were you so turned on?
Your mouth went dry for a brief moment when he came back before watering as you took him in. He was in all black, his button down hugging his chest just right and his thighs looking powerful in his tight pants, and you wanted to pounce on him. What the fuck?
“You good?” He drawled, lifting a perfectly-groomed eyebrow.
“Yeah, why?” You responded immediately. That was far too quick for your liking.
“Because you look like a tomato and you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat.” He paused and made a show of moving closer. “Wait a minute…” He leaned down and examined you for a moment before grinning, faking shock. “Are you…turned on?”
“No!” You practically shrieked.
“You must’ve really liked that coffee.” He snorted as he righted himself.
Everything clicked at his words and your jaw dropped slightly. “What did you do?”
“Oh you know.” He shrugged as he went to his bag and reached inside. “Gave you a treat.” He grinned as he held up the pack of aphrodisiac chocolates.
“You motherfucker-” You chucked a pillow at him, indignation filling your words.
“Should I have one as well? Maybe we can fuck away the animosity.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he opened the box and pulled out the foil packet. When you hesitated to turn him down, his grin grew. “You want that? Want to fuck away all the bad feelings that ever existed between us?”
Your breath hitched as he broke off a piece of chocolate and lifted it to his lips. Finally, you nodded sheepishly. He quickly popped the candy in his mouth and let out a theatrical groan, both for your reaction and because it tasted amazing.
Your cheeks grew hotter at the sound and you averted your gaze, earning a laugh from him. “You’re too cute, y/n. You never struck me as the shy type.” He stalked towards the bed, lifting one knee onto the mattress as soon as he reached. “You wanna know what I think?” When you didn’t respond, he continued anyway. “I think that the second I get you naked, you’ll be a completely different person. You seem like a screamer. I bet you like it kinda wild.”
You hated how your body reacted to his drawl and you especially hated how quickly he figured you out but didn’t say anything to correct him. Instead, you simply accepted his advances when he moved closer and tipped your head back against the headboard. “Now’s your chance to back out.” He warned, his lips a hair’s width away.
Instead of verbally responding, you closed the tiny gap between the two of you. You felt a jolt of electricity when your lips touched. Immediately, something in him changed. He quickly lost his cool and began to devour your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth the moment your lips parted. You could taste the chocolate on his tongue and your pulse ratcheted up.
Your pussy throbbed when he let out a soft groan and you couldn’t stop your hands from moving to his chest. You deftly unbuttoned his shirt as his hands untucked your blouse and began to lift it. The instant you pulled back, your top was tossed aside and he urged you to stand. You didn’t want to move just yet, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours, but you complied quickly and a moment later he was knelt in front of you.
He pressed his forehead to your stomach as he took a steadying breath, then reached behind you to unzip your skirt. “This fucking thing has been taunting me for ages.” He growled as the material slid down your legs, revealing your already-soaked panties.
He pressed a kiss above your belly button, followed by one right below it, then another right above your panties. “How long?” Your voice sounded strange to you, never having been so rough in your life.
“Doesn’t matter. What matters right now is that I get a taste of your pretty pussy.” His gaze was heavy as his fingertips skimmed along your thighs, making your thoughts fuzzy. “May I?” He asked, fingers finally tracing along the edges of your panties.
You nodded quickly and he didn’t bother moving the material before pressing his tongue to you. The motion was meant to tease, as he quickly replaced his tongue with his nose and took a deep breath, groaning at the scent of your arousal.
Long fingers pushed your panties to the side a moment later, revealing your glistening folds to him. “Shit…” He hissed, his eyelids growing heavy as he zeroed in on your slick. Then his tongue was back on you, lapping at your mess. He locked eyes with you and his hands went to your ass, kneading the soft flesh there as his tongue worked you.
Seonghwa ate pussy like he’d been in the desert for days and your body was the first drop of water he’d stumbled across. Like a man starved. He was beyond enthusiastic and you were certain he’d wring you dry of orgasms before noon.
He sucked on your clit while pulling you impossibly closer and your jaw dropped, eyes fighting to stay open. “S-Seonghwa-” Your voice was a breathy moan as your hands tangled in his hair and he growled against you in appreciation, making sure you felt the vibrations.
You tugged at his hair in response and he gave a harsh suck, making your knees weak. You let out a soft curse and felt him smirk against you but couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed with his cockiness. He was too damn good at what he was doing for you to think about anything else.
Your head tipped back after a few minutes, soft moans flowing freely from your lips. You were doing well at keeping quiet so as not to disturb other guests but he’d change that. He was determined to make you scream and cry for him.
A soft nip to your clit had your spine straightening and your eyes flying open. “Oh fuck me-” You gasped at the pain that quickly gave way to pleasure as he soothed the sensitive bud with his tongue.
“Later, baby.” He teased before diving back in with renewed vigor, his tongue working faster as he felt you tensing under his touch. You shot him a glare but bit your lip hard when he laughed against you.
“Shit-” You whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening. He groaned at the sensation and you made another small sound. He knew good and damn well what he was doing to you and you didn’t want it to end, even as the knot in your belly began to unravel. “Oh- ‘m gonna cum-” You warned and he sucked on your clit once more, harder this time.
Your toes curled with the intensity of your orgasm. Your chest heaved and your head fell back as you let out a string of subdued moans and soft curses. Even as you came down from your high, he continued to lap at you and you felt a burning sensation under your skin. You could handle several orgasms but you needed a few minutes between each one.
“Hwa wait-” You whimpered. “Hold on.” You gently pushed him back and he reluctantly pulled away.
“The second I get you undressed and on that bed, my head is going back between your legs.” He warned as he stood, pulling you against him. His stiff cock strained against the confines of his pants, pressing against your belly, and you couldn’t help but reach out and palm him as he tipped your head back for a kiss.
You moaned softly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he plundered your mouth, noticing the way his cock twitched at the sound. He wasted no time in unclasping your bra and tossing it aside, lightly pinching your nipple a moment later. You squeezed him through his pants in return and he nipped at your lip as he pulled you impossibly closer.
Impatient, you broke the kiss and began to sink to your knees but he stopped you. “Another time, baby. Let me take care of you this time, yeah?”
“But…”
He leaned in so his lips were right by your ear before whispering. “After all our meetings are done for the day, you can do whatever you want. We can come back here and you can have me however you’d like. How’s that sound, baby?”
You clenched around nothing, both at his words and the sound of his voice, rough with desire. “Anything I want?” He nodded. “You don’t know what you’ve just signed up for.” You grinned mischievously as he righted himself and pulled you against him.
“I’m more than happy to be your toy, sweetheart.” He hummed as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. “Now let’s get these off so I can keep playing with you.”
He slid the material down your legs and you stepped out of the flimsy cotton only to be pushed backwards onto the bed. He crawled over you with a wolfish grin, one hand caressing your side. “You gonna let me go down on you again, pretty?”
“Please-” You nodded, your voice coming out as a breathy moan.
“Good girl.” He cooed, already moving down the mattress. He knelt beside the bed and hooked your legs over his shoulders, eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “God- you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”
You don’t bother trying to stop his praises, too focused on the way his lips seal around your clit once more. You never would’ve had a chance to respond even if you wanted to.
Instantly, the burn under your skin returned but in a more delicious way. Your hands tangled in his hair, guiding him this way and that. You knew you wouldn’t last long since you’d already had one orgasm so you decided to fully enjoy it and tell him exactly what to do.
Of course, he had other plans. He wanted to appreciate you in ways he’d only been able to dream of before. He wanted to take his time and drown in you. You tasted like Heaven, like he’d always imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.
After several moments of sucking and licking, he decided to try something else. Something he hadn’t been able to do while you were standing. His tongue pressed inside you and you immediately pressed against his touch, his nose bumping your clit at the same time. “Oh- Seonghwa, please-” You gasped out, pulling his hair hard.
He groaned against you at the sting and retracted his tongue only to plunge into you once more. In and out, in and out. He carried on like that for close to a minute before he retreated, tongue flicking over your clit once more. At your whine of dismay, he slid two fingers into you and curled them instantly, finding your g-spot in record time. It was as if he had studied your body for years and knew every inch of you. He’d wanted you for so long that he’d dreamt of doing so.
His impossibly-tight pants were constricting. They were getting on his damn nerves. But he wanted you to be the one to undress him so he didn’t dare try to shimmy them off. Not when he was finally able to bury his face between your legs.
You let out a loud whimper as he scissored his fingers and lapped at your cunt, your back arching off the bed. “Fuck- ‘m close, Hwa-” You warned, thighs beginning to tremble. He was too fucking good and you were too high strung to hold back.
As you clenched around his fingers, coming undone as soon as the words left your mouth, he let out a long groan against you. You felt him shift under your legs but didn’t bother trying to figure out why as you allowed wave after wave of white hot pleasure to cascade over your body, back still bowed off the bed.
He helped you through it, sucking and nipping at your clit until you were certain you’d gone up in flames. You gently pushed him away, chest heaving, and he stood between your legs. “I’m so giving you the sloppiest blowjob later.” You panted, smiling up at him as he moved over you.
“I’ll look forward to it.” He grinned as he leaned down to catch your lips in a messy kiss. You reached for his pants as you kissed and made a small sound when you found a wet patch across the front.
“Did you-”
“Yeah. You tasted too good and looked too perfect for me to hold back.” He admitted shamelessly as his lips trailed to your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks since you had another round of presentations you needed to look presentable for later in the afternoon.
“There’s no reason that should be so hot.” You murmured, slipping your hand inside his soiled boxers. You didn’t care if it was dirty, you needed to touch him. Lewd sounds quickly filled the room as you stroked his cock, pride swelling in your chest when he bucked into your touch.
“Wait.” He stopped you even as he rocked his hips once more. “I need to be inside you. Are you still on the pill?”
“IUD.” You said as you lifted your messy hand to your mouth and began to lap up his cum.
His jaw dropped as he watched you lick your fingers clean, eyes glazing over with lust. “Fucking hell…” He groaned, pulling back abruptly. He wasted no time in kicking off his pants and underwear, trying to clean himself at least a little before he rejoined you on the bed. “You’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”
“There’s worse ways to go.” You teased, pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. Your legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer in invitation. A string of saliva connected your lips when he pulled back, which you quickly leaned up and licked away, earning a soft curse. You leaned up once more to whisper in his ear as he lined up. “Fuck away all the bad feelings, Seonghwa. You promised.” Then you gently clamped your teeth on his earlobe, reveling in the choked noise he made.
“You’re a demon.” He hissed as he pressed in, gasping at how tight you felt. You whimpered at the stretch and tugged him closer, lip catching between your teeth. “So fucking tight for me, baby. So perfect.”
You moaned at his words, clenching involuntarily around him. You loved the praise and he knew as much now. He finally rocked his hips and you let out a soft whine at the friction. “You’re so big…” You moaned as you allowed yourself to fall back against the sheets, hair fanning out around your head in a halo.
Stars danced in his eyes as the sight of you beneath him. This was a religious experience and he was already in the clouds. And you were praising him? He felt like he might die if you continued to comment. Your approval was all he ever needed and to get the validation in bed too was enough to have him on edge. He was fighting hard to stay composed so was trying to distract himself with random thoughts but you were clouding his senses and he couldn’t focus on anything else.
He gave a deep thrust and you let out a reedy moan, guiding his hand to your chest so he’d thumb over your nipples. Instead of simply teasing, he pinched you and your eyes rolled back. “Harder.” You demanded, unsure of what you were referring to. Did you want him to pinch your nipples harder or did you want him to fuck you harder?
He couldn’t tell either but gladly did both, relishing the sound you made. “You like that?”
“So much.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Need more. Please?” You pleaded, gasping when he pinched your nipple again.
“So impatient.” He tutted. “I love it. You’re so desperate for me that you can’t wait. How cute.” He continued, his hand sliding up to your throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll train you to be patient.” His smile darkened as he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, cutting off blood flow. His hips slowed and you whimpered but he briefly tightened his grip in warning. “Be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” You nodded furiously and he snapped his hips forward, knocking the air from your lungs. “Good girl.”
You weren’t on this planet anymore. You weren’t even in this universe. The whole ordeal was so hot that you were in your own world, focused only on the pleasure and the oddly-comforting weight of his body on top of yours.
“Open.” He demanded suddenly and your jaw instantly fell slack. “So obedient.” He cooed as he leaned closer before pursing his lips. Oh god is he about to do what I think? Fuck. You gripped his wrist as he spit into your mouth, a pathetic noise slipping out. “Swallow.” You did so eagerly, your entire body spasming at how hot it was. His jaw dropped at the way you suddenly clenched around him and he quickly pulled out, cumming across your thighs. “Fucking hell, baby. You like it that much? Fuck.” He panted as he stroked himself through his high, groaning when you nodded and reached to rub tight circles over your clit to guide yourself through your own orgasm.
He looked stunning like that. His jaw hung slack, his eyes half-lidded from the intense pleasure. He looked fucked out. He looked so fucking beautiful. He was art.
“Please.” You whispered breathlessly. “One more. Need to cum one more time. Need you to cum one more time. Please?” You begged, vision whiting when he squeezed your throat again.
“So needy, baby. Want me to fuck you so dumb you drool? Is that it?” His tone was nothing but adoring even though his words were meant to sting a bit and your heart throbbed in your chest. Was this more than fucking away tension and animosity? “Flip over. Lemme see that perfect ass.” He pulled away and you quickly complied, wiggling your ass as soon as you were in position. “God- you’re so fucking perfect, y/n. So perfect.” He praised as he squeezed your soft flesh.
“Seonghwa…” You whimpered his name as you tried to push yourself back onto his cock. “I need you so bad. Please?”
“I can’t say no when you ask so nicely, baby.” He said as he lined up and pressed into you. “Fuck- this pussy was made for me, pretty. Feels so fucking good.” He breathed, setting a rough pace from the start. His hips slapped against your ass as he plowed into you, driving you into the mattress.
You couldn’t help but cry out when he slammed into you so hard he knocked you forward. Your knees would be so irritated from the position and the way the sheets rubbed against your skin but you couldn’t care less. You simply wanted to feel him. He was all you needed at the moment.
He suddenly pulled you up from where your face was buried in the sheets and wrapped his hands around your throat for leverage. “You take my cock so well, sweetheart. Like you were made for it. Were you made for me?”
“Yes!” You gasped, jolting when he brushed your cervix. “Yes, I was made to take your cock and anything you give me.”
Lewd sounds filled the air as he repeatedly slammed into you, your mess running down your thighs to mingle with his. You’d need new sheets brought in by the time you were done. You almost felt bad for the housekeepers who would service your room later this afternoon. Almost. You couldn’t feel too bad with Seonghwa balls-deep inside you.
“You’re gonna make me cum.” He warned suddenly as he released your throat and you bit your lip hard. “Where do you want it, baby? I’m already so close.”
“Everywhere.” Your request was simple and it drove him over the edge. He pulled out as he came, covering your ass and thighs with his release. His breathing grew ragged as he allowed the pleasure to overwhelm him and he let out what was easily the sexiest sound you’d ever heard a man make, his voice pitching low in a way that made you clench around nothing.
Before you could reach between your legs to finish yourself off, he was back inside you and working faster than before, even as he began to get overwhelmed from the pleasure. He could feel you tensing with your impending orgasm and he wanted to be the one to send you over the edge one last time before you had to go shower again. “Don’t you dare touch yourself, baby. I’m gonna make you cum. Understood?”
You nodded quickly, thighs beginning to tremble from the sensation overtaking your body. “Yes! ‘M so close, Hwa. Please make me cum. Please!” You begged and he immediately reached around to toy with your clit. Tears sprung into your eyes at the pleasure flooding your body and fire spread beneath your skin.
“I can feel you trembling, pretty. Why don’t you just let go? Cum all over my cock, baby.” He coached and you couldn’t fight it anymore. A cry ripped from your throat and tears began to roll down your cheeks as your final orgasm crashed into you. “That’s right. Just like that.” His deep voice spurred you on as he tangled a hand in your hair, pulling just hard enough for the most delicious sting to spread out over your scalp. “Good girl.” You let out a choked sob at the name, delirious from the pleasure and gratification.
As you slowly came down from your high, he gently released your hair and smoothed his hands down your back. “You did so well for me, sweetheart. So perfect.” You whimpered softly at the praise as you collapsed against the mattress. He slipped out of you and immediately laid beside you, still rubbing your back with one hand. “You okay?” He asked as soon as he saw your tears. You nodded weakly, utterly spent. “Words, baby.”
“I’m okay. That was just…intense.” You murmured, suddenly exhausted.
“It was.” He agreed quietly, reaching to brush your hair back from your face. After several beats of silence, during which he took his time admiring you and playing with your hair, he spoke again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”
Your cheeks heated up and you fought the urge to hide your face. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded so you continued. “Earlier you said my skirt was driving you crazy. How long? You didn’t answer me before.”
“Too long.” When you didn’t respond, he let out a soft sigh and began to explain. “I always felt like shit for it but I've wanted you since day one. The moment we met, I knew I needed you. And seeing you in that damned skirt week after week drove me absolutely insane.”
“Why would you feel like shit for that?”
“Because we were friends. I shouldn’t have wanted you the way that I did. They always say women can’t have male friends because they all wanna sleep with you and I felt like I was only proving that right and risking our friendship.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, I’ve always found you insanely attractive too and have had my fair share of untoward thoughts.” You grinned and he let out a soft laugh. After a few beats of silence you spoke again. “I have another question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why the fuck did you have those chocolates on this trip in the first place?”
“We should get cleaned up.” He hummed as he sat up, clearly not wanting to answer. He had a secretive smile on his face and you rolled your eyes.
“You’re such a pain.” You sighed in exasperation. “Just tell me.”
“Well I hadn’t anticipated being the one helping you with it but I did plan to inconvenience you a bit.” He laughed and you sat up to chuck another pillow at him.
“You’re such an ass.”
“I’m your ass though.” Your cheeks pinked at the thought and you nodded slowly, liking the idea more than you’d anticipated.
“Yeah. I guess you are.”
395 notes · View notes
auteurdelabre · 2 days
Text
SO MUCH TO LOSE PART 12
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rating: 18+
tags: mentions of death, mentions of violence, fingering, dirty talk, jealousy, angst.
a/n: I'm sorry y'all lunch with friends ran late and it's definitely not the afternoon anymore! But here it is! I know y'all have waited a long time for this so I hope its to your liking. It's over 12,000 words and I swear I could write more but then I'd never publish anything. You know your comments and reblogs make me continue on, so please don't forget to do one of the other or even better, both!
masterlist here
-------------------
"Wake up."
You jolt awake, eyes blowing wide. You instinctively go for the clock at your beside at home but it's not there. Nothing is where it usually is. As your sleepy mind clears you see two brown eyes staring down at you. 
"Time to go. Get dressed." 
You clothes are dried and laying beside you on the couch and the dead fire. The already dressed Joel leaves the room likely to give you privacy. You get dressed in a hurry, pulling your clothes and boots on before stumbling after Joel. 
"Did you sleep much?"
"Yep. Plenty."
You don’t believe him. There are large circles under his eyes and he yawns so wide that his jaw cracks. You think maybe he got an hour tops.
You follow him down to see the horses huddled up together in the center of the room. Joel obviously used two of the blankets from upstairs because they’re thrown over each of the horses’ backs. They give a soft whinny as the two of you approach.
“Sure am missing breakfast,” you muse with a sleepy smile. “Even that oatmeal that sticks to the roof of my mouth.”
Joel’s mouth curls a bit at one side in amusement. You busy yourself with kissing Chestnut’s muzzle once more before you feel Joel tap you.
“Here.”
You glance over to see Joel holding a piece of jerky out to you. You take it gratefully before pausing.
“Wait, isn’t this your portion?”
“Ate mine already.”
He’s lying.
He gave you all the jerky. Let you drink the rest of his coffee. Even shared his precious whiskey.
“You sure?”
Joel hefts the saddles onto each of the horses, making sure that they’re secured as you gaze at him in question. He feels you staring at him and instead of his usual snark he just glances over gives you a nod.
“Ready to go?”
“Mhm.”
You and Chestnut follow he and Midnight out the house, helping the horses to slowly maneuver down the icy steps into the snow. Even after the storm it comes to above your ankles. Joel frowns, looking down at it.
“We’re gonna have to walk ‘em back. Don’t trust that they won’t hurt themselves in all this.”
“Of course.”
You trail after him, eyes stuck on the ground in front of you.
Joel leads, you follow.
And instead of angering you or making you feel small and useless, it makes you bloom. Like a flower warmed by the sun, its petals unfurling. You feel yourself smiling to yourself a big, toothy grin that you’re glad Joel can’t see. He’d ask you why and you’re not sure that you could answer him sufficiently. You don’t quite understand it yourself.
The walk back is long, especially with the horses moving unsteadily over the snow. Thankfully Chestnut is easily led, unlike last night. The worst of the storm is behind you, leaving only the crunch of icy snow and trees heavy with white. 
Your cheeks and end of your nose are pink from the cold, the scarf tight around your throat. Your fingers are warm in your gloves and you're relieved that everything dried sufficiently in front of the fire last night. You glance at Joel’s broad back, suddenly fixated on an errant thought.
“Joel can I ask you something?”
He visibly cringes. “What?”
“How did you get so good at shooting and fighting?”
His shoulders relax. “Practice.”
“You didn’t fight or shoot before Outbreak Day?”
“Only when I had to get Tommy out of scrapes,” Joel says quietly and you notice he’s slowed his walking until you’ve matched paces and you’re both walking side by side. “I did some boxing when I was younger. Didn’t have much time when Sar- when I got older. The shooting came after. A necessary skill when you’re smugglin’.”
You nod, knowing that he was about to bring up his daughter. Despite the closeness you feel, you have no desire to delve into that very heavy topic. You’re curious about his smuggling as well, but you don’t want to bring that up either as it seems strangely personal.
“You learn pretty quick that anything can be a weapon,” Joel continues on as if you’re a particularly engaged student. “A book, a candlestick, even an unloaded gun can hit a pretty bad blow to the base of someone’s skull. You might not kill ‘em but you’ll hurt ‘em enough to get away.”
To you a book is a book, a candlestick a candlestick. You don’t see things as potential weapons, only for their intended uses
“I never really thought of that,” you admit. “Although I wish I was more of a natural at shooting.”
"Needed to keep up with your lessons," Joel murmurs and you think you hear a softening of his tone. "I could try teachin' you again."
"I've already got someone teaching me," you tell him, back straight and standing tall. You tell Joel this in the pathetic hopes that it will impress him, that he will see how you’re really trying. But instead he scowls at the air in front of him.
“If it’s that Luke boy you’re better off goin’ in blind,” Joel says, eyes fixed in front of him. “He couldn’t even hit a nail straight. Some fuckin’ cabinetmaker.”
Luke is most assuredly not a boy; he’s at least thirty five. Joel calling him a boy makes you smirk despite being irritated at the insult to your friend.
“You don’t even know Luke.”
Joel looks sullen and you're confused that he's angry again. You really can't anticipate his moods.  
The two of you continue on in silence and you think that Joel seems a bit irritated for some reason you can’ unearth. Likely just exhausted like you are after a stressful day and uneven sleep.
"Thought you wanted to be a good shot?” Joel says suddenly, glancing at you over his shoulder. “You need a competent teacher."
"I have a competent teacher and it isn't Luke anyway," you bite off, a line of irritation slicing between your brows.
"Who? Aaron? Greg?" Joel's voice is hard edged. His pace increases with every name said. "Kevin?"
“If you must know its Jennifer,” you sigh, irritable from your poor sleep and Joel’s sudden sullenness.
"Jennifer?" Joel's brows untie his features relaxing.
“I know how much you hate me bringing her up,” you sneer. “But I can’t really avoid it now can I?”
Joel gives a grunt by way of reply all the while your mind drifts to your friend. The girl who likes Joel and has for a long while. Jennifer the girl who has always been up front and honest with you.
What will you tell her?
He's quiet with you on the walk back and you wonder if he's distracted like you. He's likely tired like you are, muscles aching from the lumpy couch. Now you know how those muscles feel against your cheek and the memory makes you feel tingly.
In your distracted state and the slick of the snow you tumble, landing on your hands and hissing. Angry tears well in your eyes and you wince at the way your wrist smarts.
"Fuck."
Your knees and are wet from snow and you miserably wait for the chastising or rolled eyes shot your way by Joel. Instead you hear the crunch of snow and he's there half-crouched in front of you, one hand on Midnight's reins, the other held out to you. 
You stare at it a moment, the glove wide and cracked with age. Then finally you take it, lifting your eyes to his. You're surprised to find concern. 
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"You good to keep goin'?"
"Uh huh." 
He nods and then he turns, dropping your hand and striding back with the horse towards the trail. 
You watch the back of Joel's head as he saunters ahead of you, listening to his quiet murmurs to Midnight and fixating on the loose curl of his hair at the nape of his neck. You're captivated by the interwoven strands of dark brown and grey that glint like tinsel in the light of the morning. 
You're concerned that the thought of Joel makes your belly grow warm and tighten. The man who previously drove you insane with irritation now lingers in your thoughts almost pleasantly.  
He shared things with you. Things you have a feeling he doesn't share with many others. He told you about Tess and he wanted to know about you. So what does that mean? Does he see you as more than just a pleasurable release? 
Do you want him to? 
You don't know how to feel about Joel right now. And you don’t know what you’re going to tell Jennifer if she asks.
When you cross into Jackson City cold and exhausted a few hours later you're surprised to hear loud commotion behind the wall and electrified fence.
"It's them!"
"Open the fucking gate!"
You and Joel exchange a brief look before the entrance is opened to you and you stalk forward. You see the large group gathered at the wall on the other side, thankful that the snow has been shovelled.
The entrance to the gate is full of the other patrol members looking like they're about to head out. You glance behind you to see the snow storm kicking back up just as the gate is closed and locked securely behind you. You glance back at the
Tommy is giving a relieved huff of air as he sees you both slowly make your way inside the walls, the horses trailing after you. 
Jennifer is atop Glimmer; talking animatedly to a new patrol person you don't know. She looks beside herself, her eyes red-rimmed. When she turns back and sees you she lets out a choked sob and scrambles off Glimmer before she runs in your direction, nearly tackling you into a tight embrace. 
"I was so worried," she says, voice shaky. "Luke and I were up all night just waiting for word. I was gonna go with the search party and-and-" 
"I'm here in okay," you say with a slight laugh, your arms banding around her as she hiccups a cry into your shoulder. "I swear I'm okay." 
You notice the timid form of Ellie over Jennifer's shoulder. She sees you first and casts a brief smile at you before her eyes search the crowd for Joel. When she hears him snapping at Tommy to give him breathing room you see the tears she blinks back. You watch as Ellie slips through the crowd chasing after his voice. 
When she gets to him there's no hesitation on his part. He brings her into his arms and murmurs something into her ear. Ellie's face crumples but she buries it in the front of Joel's jacket, her tiny hands gripping the front of it.
She loves him so much.
You catch his eye over Ellie's head, not missing the gentle nod he casts your way. It warms you deeply. Things feel different between the two of you. 
'I'm so glad you're okay," Jennifer says wiping the tears from her cheeks and drawing your attention back to her. "I just ... I was so scared."
"Me too," you nod, surprised to find yourself choked up. You haven’t had friendship like this before – the kind of tenderness that comes with true companionship. You wonder if this is how every friendship is supposed to feel and if so, you mourn that it took you this long to stumble upon it.
The tall, lanky form of Luke steps forward from the murmuring crowd his face breaking into a relieved expression. He jogs over in your direction and takes you aback by gathering you into his arms and rocking you tightly against him. 
“Thank fuck!”
You giggle in his neck, inhaling the soft, warm scent of coffee and wool from his scarf. He holds you like this for several moments, tenderly and with affection.
"I know you wanted an adventure but honestly," he says with mock irritation into your hairline. 
Laughter bubbles from the three of you, relieved and silly. You hug him back tightly, thankful for the relationships you've built, thankful for the levity he's bringing to the moment. Grateful that you found he and Jennifer at the end of the world.
You hear a throat clear behind you and you turn in Luke's grip.  
Joel stares back at you, mouth in a thin line. He's got Ellie tucked under one arm, Tommy at his side and several of the others attempting to talk to him. But he’s still, the only movement his dark eyes taking you in.
You break away from Luke and move towards Joel, feeling overcome with emotion. Last night could have been so terrifying if not for the broad man standing in front of you. A sensation of deep gratitude curls around your ribs, lessening the anxiety you would normally feel in his presence. 
"Thank you for everything, Joel."
You give him a warm smile, even going so far as to touch your hand to his forearm. Ellie watches this, a faint smile settling over her lips as your glove makes contact with his jacket. 
You wait for that same quiet kindness from Joel that accompanied you home this morning and are confused when he pulls back from your hand stiffly, his voice melting into that familiar husky baritone. 
"Mind movin' outta the way sometime this year?"
And just like that in the blink of an eye the old Joel is back. That same haughty glare, the same squaring of his jaw. You deflate, shoulders slumping before you move backwards.
Nothing has changed.
He strides by your group, the feel of his leather jacket dragging across the back of your glove. 
"Must be exhausted after last night," Jennifer surmises, watching after him a moment. "You must be too."
You watch after Joel and Ellie, seeing the rigid way he walks beside her now. You think of Joel’s changeable moods and you exhale softly.
"Yeah," you nod. "I am."
///
Jennifer insists on walking you home and makes sure you are taken care of. She draws you a bath and leaves to bring you back a warm lunch from the dining hall. She makes sure your bed is changed with fresh sheets, warming them with a water bottle from her place. She even offers to sleep on your couch in case you need anything that first evening back.
“You don’t have to do that,” you insist that evening before the fire, your robe tightly around you and socks toasty from being propped up by the flames. It reminds you of how cold you were with Joel only a day ago.
You’re close to falling asleep but you like having Jennifer in the house, nearby. You like the sound of clattering dishes and her chirping away about something in town before she’s tucked up on one side of the couch, her hands around a warm mug of tea.
“I can’t thank you enough for all of this,” you tell her, feeling moved.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something to me.”
Jennifer smiles and you watch how the fire warms her face in an entirely different way than Joel. Instead of looking intimidating, it’s like she softens in the warm light. She looks sad though in a way you don’t recall from before.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you here,” she finally says with a cracked chuckle, her long neck bobbing as she swallows.
“Yeah right. You have so many friends,” you say. “I’ve barely ever seen you alone. You always have company.”
“Company, but not real friends,” she tells you. “Not ones who don’t judge me.”
You recall your initial judgments of the beautiful, blonde Jennifer. That she was giggly and frivolous and that she lived to gather men. You’d had no idea of her tough upbringing, of all she sacrificed, of her talents, of her unending support. You wonder how many others you judged in your life and missed out on the pleasure of knowing.
“I judged you,” you tell her honestly. “When I first met you I thought you were a vapid, pretty flirt.”
Jennifer is immediately laughing across from you, wiping the tension from your face.
“Yeah but everyone makes judgments like that with strangers! I made judgments about you before I got to know you too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I thought you were an antisocial bitch,” Jennifer says with a crooked grin and you can’t help but bark out a laugh in reply.
“What?”
“You never spoke to anyone, never smiled. You were always reading or walking off by yourself.” Jennifer smirks. “You intimidated the shit out of me.”
“No,” you say in awe. “I intimidated you?”
“Of course!” Jennifer giggles. “So serious and always reading. Plus you just carried yourself in a way that felt. . . it felt like you had walls up, you know?”
You realize that Jennifer is very astute amongst her other gifts.
“Then I saw Ellie with you that morning,” she adds. “And I figured, maybe like Joel there was more to you than met the eye. Then I heard you were on patrols with Joel and the rest is history.”
Yeah, the rest is history.
You can’t help but curl your lip in amusement. Who knew a chance patrol pairing could lead you into a friendship you’d never thought possible? Jennifer shuffles back on the couch, looking cozy in her latest fashion piece (a cable knit looking sweater with felted strawberry accents). 
Jennifer is quiet, staring into the fire. She seems strangely stoic today and you feel like it’s not just from your disappearance. You give her a sidelong glance, lips pressed tightly together. She looks off into middle distance, her normally mirth-filled eyes suddenly hollow.
"You okay, Jen?"
She doesn’t reply, only turns her head to glance in your direction when you prompt her with a gentle tap to her wrist, settling back into the couch before turning to look at you head on. 
“Just a tough time of year,” Jennifer acknowledges as she tosses a twig in the fire. She looks different tonight, like a ghostly version of herself. 
You surmise that perhaps with the approaching holidays she’s feeling down in the mouth. It's like that with lots of folks. You shift your body to face her, showing her that you're listening and you wait for her to talk, holding the silence for her.
She looks to be fighting an internal debate. 
"I shot a kid."
She says it with a choke, as if the words are fighting to come loose from her throat. These weren't the words you'd been expecting from the beautiful, flirty Jennifer. These words are ugly, twisted and cold. 
“I’ve only told a few people,” she adds, chin wobbling.
You stare at her, eyes unwavering, waiting. Words aren't your strong suit. All you can offer her is a steady silence. She absently scratches at the side of the warm mug she holds.
"This was years ago around this time," she continues, her eyes downcast. "I was with my brothers and we were going through to one of the safety zones. We'd found this old market, had some tinned goods. My brothers go to check out the back and I go down an empty aisle thinking I might find something useful." 
Jennifer swallows harshly, her teacup held so tightly her knuckles look parchment white.
"All of a sudden this kid comes out of nowhere. Couldn't have been more than ten. He's skin and bones, wild eyes saying these words over and over, a bunch that I don't understand. He had a knife in his hand and I thought he was trying to come for me. I didn't even think, I just raised the gun and I shot him between the eyes." 
You can almost hear the echo of that gunshot in the silent room now. 
Jennifer is staring over your shoulder, like she can see the ghostly apparition of the fallen child behind you. It makes goosebumps rise along your body, and you continue to keep your even silence.  You know that she doesn't want you embrace or your pity, just your presence. 
"My brother's told me I did what was smart,” Jennifer whispers. “Told me to move on. But his face when he was dead, his shrieking, it just kept playing over and over in my head. When I went to bed, when I woke up. It felt wrong." 
Tears slide down her cheeks now, as quick as she brushes them away with the edge of her sweater, new ones appear, soaking into the wool. 
"I came to Jackson a few months after that. My brothers wanted to keep goin', they heard about some place in Canada that they thought would be a better fit for us. But... I needed a fresh start where no one knew me, where I could be someone totally new. They were upset to leave me, but I pretty much insisted on it."
You shift in your seat, listening intently. Jennifer has this sickening look on her face and you know behind her eyes is a memory of this terrible experience. It makes you want to hold her hand but she’s folded into herself and you don’t want to force her into anything.
"So I was living here in Jackson a few months and I’m at the dining hall one night and I hear this woman speaking another language. At first I barely notice, but then I realize this word keeps popping up. Pomoz. Pomoz. Same as that kid."
At this point Jennifer places her empty teacup on the aged wood coffee table. She stretches her long legs before pulling them to her chest. She sniffs again, unable to meet your gaze.
"Turns out he was speaking Polish. So I tell the lady the sentence that has been haunting me for months and months and I ask her for the translation." Jennifer swipes along the bottom of her runny nose with the back of her sweater. 
"You know what he was saying?"
You don't move. Not even to shake your head. 
"He was saying help me. I'm lost." Jennifer's lower lip trembles. "Pomóż mi, zgubiłem się. He was just a kid begging for my help and I shot him dead without thinking." 
Now the sobs come, wracking her slim body as she curls into herself.
"That little b-boy died on a dirty supermarket floor alone and scared because of me."
You can't help it if it isn't in your nature; your hands go to Jennifer's and hold tightly. And when her warm teardrops land on the back of them you move forward to wrap her in your arms. You haven’t held someone to comfort them in so long that it feels foreign to you, but you grip her tightly, letting her tears soak the front of your nightdress.
You don’t offer her saccharine words of comfort, you don’t give her pity, you just hold her until the tears stop flowing and her breathing returns to normal. Even after all of that you continue to hold her until she squeezes back, letting you sit there in the quiet night.
"Thank you," Jennifer finally says in a croaked voice before pulling back. You tilt your head at her. 
"For what?"
"For letting me talk about this stuff and not judging me." She pushes her hair from her glassy eyes. 
"You did what anyone else would have done," you assure her honestly. “I know you don’t believe it, but you did. How could I judge that?”
"I think you're the first person who I ever told this to who didn't look at me like I was a piece of shit," she says with a forced laugh. You shake your head. 
"I could never look at you like that.”
She gives you a wry smile. "Oh yeah? Why's that? Cuz I taught you to shoot?"
You give her a weak smile in return. 
"Because... You reminded me about the good parts of life. Of having friends and singing and drinking tea. You made me leave my cave and come blinking out into the sunshine again." 
Jennifer looks moved by your words, her large eyes growing glossier.
"I think that's why I wanted to get to know you," Jennifer observes with a sniffle. "It felt like you were outrunning something too. Trying to forget." 
You look at your hands in your lap before giving a resolute nod. 
"Yeah."
"Sometimes I think that's why I like to distract myself with crushes or teaching people to shoot or makin' dresses," she muses. "Being alone with my thoughts too much is..."
She doesn't finish that thought but she doesn't need to. 
You couldn't understand more. 
And then its like she’s trying to push back this burdensome memory and she forces a smile to her face. You can see her adopting this persona, this safety person that she hides behind. Happy, bright, Jennifer who flirts and shoots and rides horses and drinks beer at the Bison. And you let her slip into this character because you are no one to judge how a person chooses to survive.
“So tell me, what was it like being there with Joel at night?” she asks with a sidelong smirk in your direction.  “I know he’s not your favorite person.”
Before when Jennifer asked you about Joel it used to irritate you. You thought she was using you for your information. But when she asks you now there’s nothing but amusement, like two grade-school girls discussing their crush from third period biology.
“I thought about you actually,” you grin toothily. “Thought about how you’d give anything to swap spots with me.”
Jennifer does a fake swoon, falling dramatically backward; the back of her hand on her forehead and you can’t help but bust out giggling. Jennifer giggles right back, sitting back up and bouncing in her seat.
“Tell me everything!”
You can’t tell her everything.
You give her the bullet points; the thundersnow, the horses, Joel’s calves. You leave out that you were both naked under the blankets sharing whiskey, you leave out that he went down on you for hours and you definitely leave out the part about waking up against him and falling back asleep.
“He took really good care of me,” you finish up honestly. “I thought he was gonna be a jerk but he was great.”
“Really?” Jennifer almost beaming, like she’s proud she was right about him all along.
“Yeah, I was really scared and he was really patient that night.”
“See? I told you there was something to him.”
“I guess,” you shrug. “I think it was a storm thing though. He’s gone back to being an asshole so I wouldn’t hold my hopes up.”
“Did he mention me by any chance?”
You think of how to frame this. Yeah, Joel did mention Jennifer but none of his comments were particularly flattering. But when you recall how he looked at her coming back you think it might have been to cover up his feelings. He doesn’t seem like someone who can come out and express how he feels properly.
“Yeah, actually. You came up a few times.”
Jennifer giggles to herself and you know she wants to ask more about this but you’re tired and yawning and not long after she insists you go to sleep.
Your bed has never felt more comfortable but sleep takes its time coming to you. It keeps replaying the night before; the way Joel’s dark eyes reflected the fire, the strength of his hands on your body, his tongue between your legs.
You wish your mind didn’t keep going back to last night because all you can focus on is that Joel made you come, asked for nothing in return and then in the morning made it seem like nothing happened.  Then as soon as you entered inside Jackson City he made it seem like he was furious with you.
The way he acted makes you wonder if you'd imagined all his kindness and his soft touches. But no, you can still feel the sensation of his tongue between your folds, his calloused hands on your thighs, the husky groan ordering you to come. You can't stop thinking about it, actually. 
It’s there lulling you to sleep, a warmth simmering in your belly.
///
You sleep in the next day, well past the breakfast hour. You don’t mind though, Jennifer had you stuffed with food up until she left at midnight telling you she could stay if you needed her to. You’re still not used to this kind of friendship, still wary that it seems too good to be true.
A glance out the window shows that some snow has fallen since yesterday, but nothing too much. Outside your street is barely touched, the sun shining gently on the earth’s creation.
You get dressed quickly, padding yourself with extra warm clothes, your red scarf and your jacket. You pull on your boots dried by the previous day’s fire and you step into the chilly mid-morning.
You like to go to the quiet parts of Jackson for your walks, enjoying the solitude. It’s in the outer part of Jackson without being in the forest, a place you never venture to.  It’s an abandoned neighborhood with old houses, fencing and more.
A sharp bark is at your back and you turn to see the familiar panting dog clumsily making his way over to you through the snow.
“Hey Buckley,” you coo when he gets close enough.
Buckley is a famous figure that roams Jackson City, a dog that belongs to everyone in a way. You think you heard someone say he was a border collie mixed with something else. He’s not always in town, often he’s found by the hydroelectric dam when he’s not snoozing at Gustavo’s feet listening to the banjo.
“You being a good boy?” you muse, scratching the back of his ear when he cocks his head.
He’s a friendly dog, rarely without his prized tennis ball. He doesn’t have it with him now, and you assume he’s lost it in the snow. You shake your head at him with a soft huffing laugh.
“You wanna join me on my walk?”
Sometimes it strange to walk through the underdeveloped parts of Jackson City. The ones with power lines that poke out like jagged tombstones. The asphalt that’s cracks when you walk on it during the hot months. But you come to stand before one of your favorite buildings, the ranch, smiling as the gentle breeze turns your cheeks pink. Buckley follows at your heels, the two of you slowed down by the snow.
You avoid the forest for obvious reasons, but you enjoy walking by the old ranch because it reminds you of the kind of place you read about in books.  You think that it would be nice to live in it one day. You found it once during one of your morning walks when you first arrived at Jackson City, and it’s been a sort of touchstone for you ever since.
You walk up its creaking porch steps, your fingers touching the porch swing. You can imagine it spruced up, drinking lemonade while you watch the sunset. It’s a nice fantasy, but it will remain just that. You have no building skills, you are a single occupant and you imagine when Jackson City gets big enough they’ll reserve this place for a big family or turn it into something vital.
You walk inside, immediately at ease with the gold sun of the morning that filters in through the grimy windows. The entire place is built with that warm, honey-colored wood. Threadbare carpets litter the spaces, old furniture still standing. Buckley remains outside, keeping watch as is his prerogative. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him inside anywhere.
You move over the creaking floors, taking in the dusty floors before you touch the sails of the decorate boat resting on the mantle above the hearth, a little tradition of yours. Moth-eaten curtains hang like sad bits of hair over the windows, and you gasp a little when a rat skitters by in the dining room, going to hide in one of the old cabinets. With all the cold weather they are urged indoors and you have no desire to hurt them; that’s Buckley’s job.
You’re about to head upstairs when something in the next room stops you. The kitchen area creaks with the unmistakable sound of slow, heavy footsteps. Immediately you straighten, hands going for a gun that you’re not carrying.
Fuck.
What are you gonna do? Panic threatens to seize you until a voice; low and husky is there at your ear, quelling your heartbeat.
You learn pretty quick that anything can be a weapon. A book, a candlestick, even an unloaded gun can hit a pretty bad blow to the base of someone’s skull. You might not kill ‘em but you’ll hurt ‘em enough to get away.
Your eyes go wide, taking in the mantle behind you once more. The candlesticks aren’t that heavy, the sailboat decorative. There are some books in the next room but you’ll be seen. Then your eyes drift down to the hearth and you feel relief when you see the fire implements there. You grab the poker, sure not to upset the other brass items into clanging.
The footsteps are continuing getting closer and you force yourself to remember what Jennifer has been teaching you: slow your breathing, focus, think of something that takes you to that quiet place. 
Homemade pies.
Lavender soap.
Sunlight on a summer morning.
Joel’s eyes.
Before you can consider this train of thought a figure suddenly makes their way around the corner of the room, looking curiously at their surroundings. You raise the poker above your head, charging at them with a furious shriek.
The man jumps back from you, watery pale eyes bulging out of his ruddy skull. He falls backwards onto the ground, holding a hand up to shield his face as you prepare to bring the poker down on his head.
“Please! Please! I live here! Please don’t hurt me!”
Something in the frantic way he yelps stills your motions, your breathing ragged as adrenaline courses through you. You lower the poker to your side, still not releasing it entirely.
He’s short and portly and he doesn’t look particularly frightening lying there quivering on the ground.
“You don’t live here,” you tell him sharply. “This place is empty.”
“I meant I live here in the community,” the man squeaks. He can’t be younger than sixty.  “Well, in a sense. I-I mean, we just got here y-yesterday. I was just looking for the soap maker; I was told she’s nearby?”
You don’t sense any real danger from this man and now you step forward, holding a hand out to him. He winces at first, thinking you mean to hit him. Then he realizes you’re not threatening him and he takes your hand gingerly.
“I’m sorry,” the man says with his voice wobbling as you pull him to a stand. “I didn’t mean to startle.”
“It’s fine. I’ve just never run into anyone here. Raiders have been seen nearby and it’s a bit high tension around lately,” you explain.
“Oh I see,” the man nods. “That explains the welcome.”
You can’t help but laugh softly at that.
“I'm Arthur," the man says shaking your hand as you introduce yourself. 
Normally you would keep to yourself, but today feels different. You feel different. It prompts you to keep your face pointed to the pale man. 
"You said you were new to Jackson?"
"Wife and I just arrived last night," Arthur says with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up his narrow nose. "I'm still getting my bearings. She was so excited to have running water so I was looking for soap. Someone in town told me there’s a soap maker in this direction." 
“I’ll show you the way,” you say, placing the fire poker back with the other instruments beside the hearth.
“Really?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
The two of you walk into the chill of the day, Buckley standing to attention when the two of you exit. You introduce Arthur to the dog and the two of you start on your journey. Arthur is a slow walker, especially in the snow, so it takes a bit longer than you normally would.
But strangely you don’t mind. You think you might be feeling powerful from earlier; you knew what to do in a time of panic. It makes you smile, your entire disposition cheerful as Arthur talks on next to you.
“I’d like to find some work as soon as possible.”
"Of course," you nod. "You have any experience in anything?"
"Not unless someone wants their portrait done," Arthur says with a smile that shows his crowded incisors. "Back in the QZ I did some teaching. Art classes and the like."
"They could always use someone like that here," you reason. 
"You think?"
"I'm sure of it. Maybe at the school? What does your wife do?"
"Penny was in the business sector before the outbreak. In the QZ she did more manual positions, disposal that sort of thing. Do you think you could find her work in something similar here?" 
"Oh, I'm not in charge if that sort of stuff," you smile. "But I know who is. I'll see her this week and tell her you're eager to help out. Can I get your address?"
They live at 64 Pine and while Arthur is more of the creative type, he and his wife both have experience with cooking as well. You make a note of this for when you see Maria later this week. 
Normally Maria would be on top of this sort of thing. Before Douglas' she always gave the tour's to newcomers, always had them sorted with a job before the end of their first week. But now she's distracted and subsequently Tommy is too. 
People like to give, she told you that first week. Makes them feel like they’re part of something.
You and Arthur chat companionably with Buckley trailing at your ankles through the snow. Arthur and his wife have been together for thirty five years, and they’ve made it from the Virginia QZ.
“Things were just too hairy over there,” Arthur says with a shake of his head. “Me and Penny figured we couldn’t keep living like that. We heard about Jackson City through an old CB a friend had. Seemed too good to be true.”
“I get that,” you nod. “The first month I was here I barely left my house. I was convinced my place would be given away the second I walked out the door.”
“The beds!” Arthur says with a dramatic emphasis on the words. “And those clean sheets? Everything is just so. . .Fresh.”
You’re at the soap maker’s home now and while it’s still early, you can hear Hannah rustling about inside. You know if you stay she’ll insist on having you in for coffee and you feel as if your social battery is already at its limit.
“This is where I’ll leave you,” you say indicating to the home ahead. “Inside is Hannah and Herb, they’ll set you up with some soap for you and your wife.”
“Thanks so much,” Arthur says pumping your hand in his.
“Can you make it back okay on your own?”
“I’m sure.”
You smile, about to turn and head back home when something stops you. You twist around, calling after Arthur who raises his brows.
“Do you ever draw portraits?”
“Of course,” Arthur nods.
“I mean, of people you don’t know,” you say, squinting as you try to recall the term. “Kinda like sketch artists did for the police back before?”
“I can’t say it’s a specialty, but I love a challenge,” Arthur says with a little skip to his step. “And considering you were kind enough to show me here I’d love to do it for you.”
“Thanks,” you say, feeling shy. “I might just take you up on it.”
///
You’re surprised to see Maria knocking on your door later that afternoon. She’s got a sleeping Douglas strapped to her chest with a sling and she’s carrying a pie in one hand.
“I would have been here the second you got back but I only heard from Tommy what was going on late last night,” she says when you invite her in.
“No problem,” you insist warmly. “I think he was doing it to save you some stress.”
“Yeah well he got an earful,” she says with a frown. “How could he not tell me my friend was missing during a storm?”
Friend. Another friend. An embarrassment of riches. You try to tamp down the pleased smile that bleeds across your face and instead give a gentle rub to Douglas’ head, giggling as he grunts and scrunches his nose.
You tell Maria about Arthur and Penny and she nods as she feeds Douglas.
"Yep, 64 Pine. I just sent them over a welcome basket and Tommy's gone there to give 'em jobs."
"Great," you smile. Your eyes go to the gently babbling Douglas in Maria's arms. “How does he get cuter every day?”
“Must be a Miller thing,” she says laughing. “I saw a picture of Sarah once and she was so adorable.”
This intrigues you to the point of distraction.
“You saw a picture of Sarah?”
Very few people had photos or memorabilia from their homes that survived Outbreak Day. You don’t know anyone personally who has photos of their family.
“Yeah, Tommy went back to Texas a while back. Got some stuff from his old place and he found a photo of Sarah to bring back.”
“Joel must have been so happy.”
“He didn’t take it,” Maria shrugs. “Think it was too hard for him.”
You fall silent for a moment, your irritation with Joel waning. It’s hard to be angry at him after everything that happened. You sometimes forget that he had a life before, that he had a daughter he’ll never see again. Despite your animosity for how he treated you earlier, you’re not devoid of compassion.
You just wish you could understand him.
You’re still pondering this hours after Maria has left when there’s a knock at your door. It creaks open when you call out to come in and a familiar set of light eyes greet you. Luke grins at you expectantly.
“You still up for shooting?”
“Oh shit, I forgot,” you place your teacup in the sink and hurriedly pull on your scarf and jacket.
“We don’t have to,” Luke starts. “Jenny can’t make it, but I thought it’d be good for us to get the practice.”
You flush happily at the thought of being alone with Luke. You enjoy being with him, it’s easy and uncomplicated.
You follow him down the street heading to the outskirts of the city, both of you armed with guns borrowed from Jennifer.
"So Jennifer isn’t going to shoot today?" You ask curiously. 
"Nah she said something about running behind in textiles. Dunno what exactly,” Luke shrugs, before smiling back at you. “You going to the town meeting Wednesday?” 
Town meetings have been going on since Jackson City was founded. A place to bring up impactful town business, updates, celebrations and more.  You've only been to one, finding it pretty dull for the most part. But as you become more a part of the community you find you want to know more of what goes on around you. 
"Yeah I think I will." 
The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm that afternoon and you’re surprised at how easily the conversation flows even without Jenny there. Luke is funny and sweet and when you shoot your first can he’s right there to lift you into his arms and spin you around.
“That was amazing!”
“I can’t believe it!” you say, pink-cheeked and delighted.
You’re still on a high when you head back into town an hour or so later, chatting animatedly about how your shooting is actually improving thanks to Jennifer. You wish she had been there to see it today.
“Not just one can, but four,” Luke whistles in amazement as you both make your way to the center of town. “And I could only got one.”
“But it was really far away so it counts as two,” you insist with a giggle. Luke grins down at you, pulling you into a companionable side hug.
“You’re too kind.”
Your entire body lights up with the contact of Luke's arm around you. You’re about to say something more when a gruff voice sounds out from behind you. 
“You sign those guns out?”
You and Luke spin to face the speaker.
Joel.
He’s standing there, leather coat done up looking intimidating. His dark eyes are going to where Luke holds you around the shoulder.
Instinctively you take a half step away from Luke, feeling strangely wrong-footed at having his arm around you, as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.
Luke is busy looking at Joel in confusion. “Huh?”
“The guns you’re carryin’,” Joel says sharply, tongue lodged in the corner of his mouth as he appraises the both of you, taking a step closer. “They gotta be signed out if you’re practicin’. Need to keep track of ‘em for safety.”
Everyone who comes to Jackson City knows this, it’s taught during your welcome. Public weapons used for patrols need to be signed out from the armory, the ammo is doled out in specific numerations to keep the city stocked and prepared.
“They’re Jenny’s,” Luke explains patiently. “From her own collection. She lends them to us for practice.”
“Ammo too?”
“Yep.”
Joel makes a grunting noise in Luke’s direction, but his eyes don’t leave your face. You feel your cheeks prickling with embarrassment at being talked down to. And for what reason? Why is Joel being such an asshole this week?
“Is that all, Joel?” you challenge, feeling your hackles rising.
Joel frowns at you, jaw ticking and then without a word he strides past you and Luke, ducking into one of the shops that line the main street. You watch him leave, stiff-shouldered and long-legged and you shake your head.
“Man that guy is such an asshole,” Luke murmurs to you as the two of you continue your walk towards the other shops. “What’s his problem?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
///
Midweek one early morning you decide to pay a visit to Chestnut with a contraband carrot. You’ve been worrying about him since you returned from that overnight patrol shift, but your visit shows he’s no worse for wear. He clops over to you and cheerfully takes the carrot as you pet him.
There's something comforting about the scent of hay in the paddock, of Chestnut's glossy eyes and the strength of his ribs under your palm. Something that grounds you when you're here alone, listening to the strangely relaxing sound of him munching on his carrot. You've broken it in half, concerned that you might upset his diet. 
He deserves it after all he went through last week. 
You feel eyes on you and you glance over your shoulder to see Midnight circling around his paddock. Chestnut continues to snack away on his carrot piece, not even acknowledging when you drift over to Midnight. 
"Hi, boy."
You take the other half of the carrot and move closer to where Midnight stares balefully out at you from the corner of his paddock.  He watches you with widened eyes, making a huffing noise as you near, hand outstretched with the  carrot half resting in the center of your palm.
Midnight's known you for months, but he still treats you like a stranger to be wary of. For a moment you wonder what his story is.
"Here you go," you coo, balancing on the fencing separating the two horses. "You deserve a treat too."
The glossy black head swings slowly, the scent catching him and it's not long before he begins inching towards you. 
With a soft smile on your lips you hold your palm flat and feel the velvet brush of his mouth as he takes the carrot piece. You feel victorious by this minute surrender and smile toothily at the creature. You think about stroking his mane but decide you'd best not push your luck. 
You turn when you hear your name being called and you're delighted to see its Ellie. She comes jogging towards you, looking as if she's getting ready to go to school. 
"Hey, I haven't seen you in the dining hall lately," you greet as she comes your way. 
"Nah, wanted to hang out with Joel this week," she explains and you hold in the urge to make a sympathetic face. You know his disappearance must have rattled her. 
She looks at Midnight relaxing in his paddock and stretches out her fingers in his direction. You watch in quiet amazement as the creature ambles over to her, allowing her to start petting his twitching side. Ellie sure has a knack for taming the untamable. 
"You like horses?" you ask Ellie, watching as the girl pets Chestnut’s ears.
“Yeah, I can ride too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, sorta. Winston this soldier back in the zone gave me lessons.” She glances up at you. “How do you know how to ride?”
“When I was really little my parents got me riding lessons. I loved it, kept going with it. Did some competitions. I was still riding up until Outbreak Day.”
“Wow. That’s awesome.”  Ellie gnaws at her chapped lower lip, scratching absently at her covered arm. She looks like she’s trying to summon up the courage for something and then you both speak at once.
“Are you okay?-“
“-You wanna come over on Thursday night?”
You pause, her words hitting you belatedly.
“Where? To your place?”
“Yeah,” Ellie nods. She smiles at Chestnut, her eyes disappearing when she does. “For a special dinner.”
You and Joel Miller together in the same house again? After he’s been such a colossal asshole to you for no reason this week?
Not a chance.
“We could do dinner at my place,” you suggest airily. “I could make us something special.”
“Nah, I wanna do it at mine. On Thursday. I’ll make us all something really special.” She looks nervously at you. “Could you bring dessert?”
The request makes you huff a laugh. “Like what?”
“A cake?”
You grin as you watch her pet Chesnut, but you don’t reply. Thoughts of being in Joel’s home don’t really fill you with ease or cheer.  She pauses when she sees your hesitation.
“Joel wanted me to ask you to come.”
This gives you pause and your brows rise to your hairline.
“Joel invited me to have dinner with you both?”
“Yeah,” Ellie nods resolutely. “You know Joel. He’s a grumpy asshole and he’s shit at communicating. But he told me to invite you, so can you make it?”
Is it possible that this is Joel extending an olive branch? Maybe he feels bad knowing how bizarrely he’s treated you this week. Maybe he’ll even explain why he’s suddenly been so frosty.
You consider this, eyes stuck on Chestnut’s mane as your fingers twirl in it. You can feel Ellie’s hopeful expression facing you and so you sigh quietly before flashing her a tentative smile.
“Chocolate cake okay?”
///
Town meetings take place inside the old church at the edge of town. The chapel itself is filled with creaking pews and tall stained glass windows. 
People use it on Sundays, those that still believe in something in this empty world. You don't attend; you stopped believing a long time ago. During town meetings though the religious iconography is removed and placed off to the side. 
Down the steps is the large recreation space used for dances and parties and the like. You've never gone to any, finding the idea too intimating since you didn't know anyone. The space is mostly filled, as all town meetings are. It's recommended that one person from each family attend to keep appraised of what's happening in the community. 
This evening you and Jennifer slip into the end of a pew near the back, the back of your knees braced against the chilled wood.
"Oh there's Luke," Jennifer whispers, hitting your shoulder with hers gently. "Must've come with the guys."
You follow her eye line to see Luke sitting with some of the guys you recognize from breakfasts with Jennifer. He's laughing with them, chatting casually. He looks handsome tonight, his hair brushed back and his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You can't help but notice the way his mouth curves, looking so inviting. 
You surprise yourself with how attracted you are to him this evening. You can't explain it, but you wish his hands were on you. Wish he was taking you to bed. 
You worry that Joel's actions the other night have opened something in you, something that craves a man between your legs, a tongue tracing the buds of your nipples, fingers tracing shapes into your flesh. 
You squirm slightly in your seat before focusing your attention elsewhere when a flash of red hair catches your eyes and you stand, making your way across the aisle.
“Hi Arthur," you greet with a smile. He's sitting with a tall woman with very red hair and is covered in tattoos. Delicate black lined things that wrap around her one arm and across her neck. She's like walking artwork that you can't stop staring at. 
"Oh it’s you!” Arthur beams up at you from where he sits. “This is my wife Penny I was telling you about." 
The woman turns her bulging eyes at you, yellowed at the corners. She smiles and gives you a crooked smile. 
"Pleased to meet you," she says with a sharp drawl. "My husband says you’re to thank for the soap?”
“No no,” you laugh. “I just showed him where to find it.”
“And she didn’t bludgeon me even when she had the chance,” Arthur adds. The three of you chuckle together and you can’t help but watch the images on Penny’s lean neck jump when she laughs.
"Those tattoos are beautiful," you tell her, momentarily hypnotized. 
"Arthur did them for me back in the QZ," Penny says with a shy grin. "Stick and poke if you can believe it. Self taught." 
"Really? That's really impressive, Arthur." 
Arthur ducks his head, looking momentarily shy. He pushes his glasses up his long nose bashfully. 
"He makes everything he touches pretty," Penny says proudly. "S'the thing I love most about him."
"That's such a beautiful idea," you say without thinking. You bid them farewell before taking your seat next to Jennifer who’s deep in conversation with one of the women you’ve seen in the dining hall.
You scan the chapel and see that Maria sits in the front row, her baby strapped to her front. People talk to her but she looks strangely overwhelmed. Maria has never been like that, always been strong and confident. You try to catch her eye, to give her a reassuring smile but she doesn't turn in your direction. 
Tommy pushes into the chapel by eight and ambles to the front of the room. He gives Maria a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before stepping behind the podium and waving at the gathered collective. When they see him the voices dim and he shoots a grateful look at the crowd. 
"Hi y'all, thanks for comin' out on this cold night when I know you’d rather be at the Bison." He pauses as light chuckles fill the room. "We got a few things happenin' this month and I wanted y'all to be aware."
There's a shuffling behind you, a scrape of boot against wood grain. The pew creaks gently as a figure is seated down, his very presence setting your pulse skyrocketing. 
Joel. 
You'd know it just by the cadence of his walk; that light drag at the end of each step. The scent of leather from his jacket and almond from the soap he uses. The way the air seems to warm and grow heavy where he sits. 
A part of you wants to turn your head, to confirm it's who you think. But the other wants nothing more than for Joel to stay away until the dinner with Ellie. After the way he's been treating you this week you don't want to be anywhere near him and his volatility without her as a buffer. 
You feel the ends of your hair catch against the pew and you shift, running your hand absently through your crown to loosen it as you turn your focus back to Tommy at the front of the chapel. 
"Well to start us off, we got some new blood here tonight and I wanna introduce 'em," Tommy says giving a small smile to the left side of the room. "This is Arthur and Penny. They come from Virginia. They're gonna be helping out in the school and with sanitation. Welcome to Jackson city."
Arthur and Penny stand up in their pew. The two of them give shy waves as the group claps, some calling out well wishes of welcome as Arthur goes pink in the cheeks.
"They're the sweetest couple," you comment. 
"I love her tattoos," Jennifer replies as she claps. "So beautiful." 
The couple sits and the clapping ebbs. Tommy looks down at his piece of paper of notes hurriedly scrawled. 
"Now I'm gonna turn things over to Jacob Linden," he says before stepping down from the podium and taking his place next to Maria. You watch as his arm goes around her, holding her to him. 
Jacob Linden is a sweet man of about sixty with narrow grey eyes and pale blonde hair. He always wears blue jeans and a sweater, even in the heat of the summer. 
His partner passed years before he got to Jackson City and he wears a small locket with his photograph in it to remember him. He touches it now, a little nervously as he steps up to the podium.  
"One of the ideas I've been kicking around is having a bi-weekly music night," the man says almost shyly as he looks around at all the faces. "A time for the town to come gather and listen to people play. Maybe in the dining hall after meals?"
There's murmurs of interest around the room. You and Jennifer exchange smiles at the idea, knowing very well that you'll attend. Jennifer is always going on about how there's nothing to do in the evenings in town except drink. 
"I'm wondering if there are any musicians who'd like to join in?" Jacob asks tentatively. "We'll take turns deciding what tunes to play and you'll have all the coffee and tea you can drink."
You're surprised when amongst a few others, Luke shoots his hand up. Jennifer must be taken aback as well because she leans over to you, her voice warm in your ear. 
"I didn't know he played."
"Me neither."
"Shhhh." 
You both flinch at the volume of Joel's shushing. Several nearby people glance over their shoulders in your direction and you feel your cheeks pink. Jennifer shoots you an admonished look and you hold in your eye roll to the best of your abilities before turning your attention back to Tommy at the front of the church.
"Now, next up, I'm sure you've heard the rumors of Raiders up on the patrol routes."
Gentle whispers move around the room like hissing campfires being extinguished. 
"So I need y'all to be even more vigilant than usual," Tommy explains. "That means you see anything and I mean anything strange, you come and tell me or Maria, Hank or Joel. And you can spread that around." 
You hear him shift on the bench behind you. It's like your ears are so attuned to him that even as Tommy goes over the safety procedures all you can focus on is the shift of Joel's weight in the pew, the scrape of his boots on the ground, the rough way he clears his throat. 
You don't know why but you're pissed off. Maybe you're anxious about the raiders, nervous about patrols tomorrow, whatever it is, you feel like a bow pulled extremely taut and Joel’s presence plucks irritatingly at the string.
"Do you think Luke wants to grab a drink after this?" Jennifer breaks into your thoughts, head tilted towards your shoulder. “I wanna ask him about his playing.”
“Me too, I was-”
Before you can say anything more you hear Joel give that same annoying noise and it feels like it's aimed directly into the back of your head. 
"Shhhh."
For some reason this is your limit. The grating sound has you twisting around in your seat and fixing him with a glare. He sits with his face arranged in a look of casual indifference; you only know that he's paying attention to you by the steady gaze of his dark eyes.
"If you can't hear, sit closer next time," you hiss. "Not our fault you're half deaf." 
You don't miss the sharp intake of breath from Jennifer or the narrowing of Joel’s gaze on your face. 
Before he can say anything back to you, you slide from the pew towards the back of the church. You need a minute to calm down because irritation is boiling your blood. You know you’re going to say something rude if you stick around.
You give polite smiles at the few people you pass on your way out, your feet taking you to where it's quiet in the alcove. You think this is where they must have prepared communion or something similar, but now it just houses extra chairs and tables. The window is barely seen over the dented wood tables with their rusty metal legs. 
You close the door after you, trying to quell the furious beating of your heart.
What the fuck is his problem? Is he so regretful of what happened that night that he’s doubling down on being a prick? And why the fuck is he having you over for dinner if he obviously despises everything you do?
There's a scrape of feet behind you and the air attains that same heavy, warm feeling. You turn, not surprised to see a furious looking Joel closing the door behind him. His lips are twisted into a thin curve of displeasure.
Fuck this.
You go to walk by him when he jerks out an arm, slapping his palm against the wall in front of you and effectively cutting you off from your exit. He stares you down as he cranes his neck towards you, forcing you to keep his gaze. 
"Where do you get off talkin' to me like that?" Joel says between gritted teeth. He looms over you, everything about him saying submit. And normally this would work, normally you would cower but tonight you're at your limit. 
"I'll talk to you any damn way I want," you say, cheeks a blotchy red.
“You sure fuckin’ won’t.”
“I sure fucking will,” you snap back, keeping your voice low enough not to carry into the chapel.
Joel gets up in your face, his nose practically touching yours.
"If you wanna run your goddam mouth, I'm gonna fill it."
It flies out of Joel’s mouth before he's had time to realize what he's said. He regrets it the minute it hits the air. It's there in the telltale opening of his lids just a fraction too wide, is in the pink crawling up his neck. 
But you’re completely over it, over Joel, over the entire situation. He makes you cum how many times? Let’s you open up to him? And now he’s acting as if you’ve done him a cruelty?
Fuck him.
"With what, Joel? Your cock?”
Joel’s eyes fly open wide. 
“I don't want anything to do with you or your cock ever again," you bite off. "You're selfish and arrogant-"
"Enough."
Joel’s jaw is ticking something worrisome, his hands in loose fists at his sides. But he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. He’s just a man like all the rest of them.
"What?” You sneer broadly. “Worried you can only keep it up if the woman’s on her knees doing all the work or half asleep, Joel?”
"Shut the fuck up."
You've never spoken to anyone like this in your entire life, but letting Joel have it right here in this moment feels good.
No, it feels better than good, it feels amazing.
Years of repressed anger and frustration are bubbling to surface and you feel heady, almost powerful from it. It feels better than sex or lust or forgiveness. It flows freely from you like a song, brutally cutting notes that slice into Joel and he winces. 
"It's the truth," you laugh cruelly. "I mean when's the last time you fucked properly without having t-"
You break off as Joel's hands slap on either side of the striped wallpaper beside your arms, coming to box you in against the wall. His face is so thunderous that any laughter in your expression withers away like fruit on a vine. 
There’s the sound of muffled laughter outside of the room in the chapel. Tommy is charming the audience, but all you can focus on is the man in front of you. Of his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Of his steely gaze and wide palms as one slides off the wall and comes to grip your hip.
And before you can properly think, Joel is crowding you against the wall, his pelvis pressing harshly into yours. You stare up at him, body trembling but you’re concerned because it’s not in fear.
Your nipples tighten, your pupils blow wide and all you can focus on is the heavy bulge that he presses between your thighs. 
“You think I can’t make you come like a little slut for me right here and now?”
Joel is breathing heavily through his nose, his gaze on your mouth before flicking to meet your eyes. He continues to pin you there, mouth slightly ajar as he begins to unbutton your jeans, his dark eyes never leaving yours.
His fingers rest on the zipper, pausing only to watch your expression. When moments pass you realize he's waiting for you to tell him to stop, trying to call your bluff. But instead you tilt your head back in silent challenge.
You'd expected fury in the face of your combative non-verbal reply but are met with something altogether different from Joel. 
Lust. 
You see only a flicker of it in Joel's gaze, the darkening of his eyes before his face lowers to yours. His fingers lower the zipper of your jeans and now your bravado leaves you as you tilt away from him, your eyes fluttering. You feel his warm breath on the side of your face, slow and heavy. He waits there, fingers stilled on the zipper’s tongue.
You don’t move, your cheeks flaming as you realize what’s about to happen. You don’t know how to act or what to do.
“Why you actin' all shy now?" Joel mocks against your earlobe. "You think I didn't hear you in the bathroom playin' with yourself all those times on patrol? Think I don’t know how bad you wanna come right now?"
Your face feels so hot you feel it would sizzle if a droplet of water landed on it. Joel has known all this time? Every time you thought you were had privacy he's known? Has likely heard the whimpering cries you give out when you climax. For all you knew he could have been standing outside the door listening. Why does that thought make your stomach swoop? 
"I don't-" you start but the words are sticky on your tongue.
But now the zipper is lowered and his fingers move swiftly down the front of your panties, hitting the slick of your cunt almost immediately and curling. You give a huff of surprise, finding your thighs widening without thought to take more of him. He slides his fingers to the knuckle, groaning when he sees it’s making your eyelids flutter.
"Maybe I don't have to try that hard after all," Joel croons. "Looks like you've been waiting for me."
“Have not,” you deny weakly, jaw clenched and glare fixed on your face.
“Then I should stop,” Joel mocks as his fingers slowly begin to pump in and out of your squelching cunt. “Right?”
You say nothing, finding it near impossible not to touch him. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, fingertips leaving half-moon crescents in his skin through the fabric. Your face is buried in his neck, trying to stifle your moans.
You feel Joel’s smug smile against your temple as his thick finger curl within your velvet slot, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his pumps. He groans softly when you arch back, hand at his collar for purchase. 
“Fuck, yeah, like that,” Joel chants, his warm breath buffeting your face.
He tilts his head, tongue going to the side of his mouth in thought. You wonder what he sees when he stares down at you, pink cheeks and glassy eyes? The sheer desperation in your glazed expression? You feel your release being coaxed forth, sweet and syrupy but something holds you back.
You feel that ripple of pleasure begin but you nervously tense everywhere and Joel’s face flies towards yours.
"I know what you feel like when you're close," Joel rasps, his full lips crushed against your ear, breath hot. "Don't fight it." 
You feel your pulse ticking wildly in your neck and you wonder if Joel can sense it. But you need something from him, something that you didn’t realize. You turn your gaze to his, imploring.
"Tell me to come," you whisper, hips rutting against his hand. "Please Joel, tell m-me-"
You break off with a sharp gasp and his wide hand immediately goes to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds from escaping into the chapel while the other works between your legs in that same steady way. 
"You're gonna come for me," Joel rasps against your ear. "Right here, with the whole town on the other side of this wall." 
Your eyes roll back in your head at the command, pleasure flooding you everywhere. Joel's fingers are sliding in and out of you, curling to hit that sweet hidden spot your own fingers just can't reach, thumb rubbing your clit. 
"You're gonna come on my fingers right here," he continues, breath hot in your ear when he sees your reaction. "Cuz I said so." 
You can't speak since his hand is still sealed over your mouth but you can nod shallowly, hips rolling as you begin to climb that pleasured peak that has your body tensing. He feels it, his dark eyes moving from your face to where his fingers enter you over and over, curling and coaxing. 
Your hands fist in his flannel when you feel that white stripe of pleasure overtake you. And despite how inappropriate this is you feel yourself falling off the edge.
"Go on then," Joel groans huskily. "Be a good girl and do it."
At those words all that tension that's been building in your lower belly suddenly releases, sending you jerking against Joel, gasping against his palm. 
"Mhm," Joel murmurs approvingly. His praise sets you off, your next orgasm overtaking the first, bleeding into one another and your legs tremble. He holds you in place with his hips, his fingers moving slickly between your thighs. 
Joel's broad hand moves from your mouth to cradle the back of your head, forcing your mouth press against the skin of his neck, muffling your cries. You continue to twitch, your whimpers seeping into his skin like ink on paper.
"Uh huh, just like that," Joel murmurs, his fingers keeping their steady pace as your pelvis ruts against his hand faster and faster. "Just like that.” 
Just like that. Just like that. 
Nothing else exists except for his voice and your pleasure. Not the townspeople, not the warning of Raiders that set you off, not the fear of the unknown. Just Joel's warm, steady voice telling you to come. 
“I know you can gimme another one.”
Just like that night of the snow in, he consumes you leaving you whimpering his name into his neck, fingers gripping his flannel for dear life as he coaxes your next orgasm from you. 
"Give it to me," he demands, groaning as you arch into him. "S’mine." 
Your entire body tenses at that husky order and your release comes over you in waves. Your eyes roll back, and you cry out, your mouth sealed against Joel’s taut neck. You can hear him far away, murmuring that’s right and good fuckin’ girl.
You feel your pussy pulse around his fingers, milking them. Arousal drips down his wrist, his fingers not ceasing their steady continuous rhythm until you give one final shake, exhaling heavily against his palm. 
Finally you go limp and his fingers slow and finally slide from between your legs. You realize that you're still fisting his flannel, your mouth still open against his warm neck. You raise your head, eyes heavy and glazed. You do it just in time to see Joel slide the fingers coated in your glossy arousal between his lips and suck, his eyes fluttering closed. 
Your knees buckle. 
He catches you, a flash of amusement in his honeyed voice.
"Steady," he mutters against your cheek. "Steady." 
You stare up at him, your breathing still deep and uneven as he holds you against him. You tilt your head back slightly so you can better view him.  Joel looks completely fucked out, cheeks flushed, his dark curls falling into his eyes that sweep your face, lingering on your parted lips. Like magnets you feel as he drifts towards you, his mouth so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath on your tongue.
 Suddenly the sound of creaking pews, chatter and footsteps sound out.
The meeting is over.
Joel's hands immediately fly from your body at the sound and he steps back, straightening to his full height. The darkness is back in his eyes and that displeased countenance he wears like a mask firmly settles over his features.  
“Don’t wanna keep you from gettin’ drinks with your boyfriend,” he rumbles darkly.
He strides away from you quickly, his boots scuffing along the floorboards until he's outside the room, the door closing behind him with a snick. You assume he’s rejoined the rest of the group as they exit to avoid suspicion, but you can’t do the same because your legs feel like rubber.
You stay leaning against the wall, face flushed and pulse ticking. Your breathing is shaky as you look around the room, the same and yet changed. 
What the fuck just happened? 
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purple-obsidian · 1 day
Note
Would you write for AK Jason? I like him mean. Like him and you are arguing and he gets all pissed off and makes you cry but it ends in angry sex.
say it back (18+, ak jason todd x fem reader) wc 5.5k
⭓ this post contains sexually explicit content and dark themes. it is not suitable for minors. please consider the tags and consume at your own discretion. not an example of a healthy relationship. jason might be kinda ooc here, but hey. it's fanfiction.
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"You need to drop your fucking attitude." Jason hisses at you.
"Me? My attitude? I'm just trying to have a conversation, Jason, you're the one acting like-"
"Like what? Hm?" He stalks closer to you, and you take a step back reflexively.
"You're angry." You state simply, staring up at him with sadness in your eyes. "You're angry with me. Still. Aren't you?"
Jason's eyes pierce into your own, searching them for something as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. It takes several tense moments before he finally mutters, "Maybe I am."
"What more do you want from me, Jason? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I didn't come looking for you. I didn't know. Bruce told me you were-" Jason growls, and corners you against the wall until your back is pressed up against it.
"Don't fucking talk about him! Don't say his name, I'm sick of thinking about him!"
"Then what do you want me to do? I mourned you, Jason, I grieved for you. I didn't just forget about you. I could never." Tears begin to well up in your eyes. The guilt you feel for what your boyfriend went through is crushing. It haunts you every day. Every time you look at him and see that 'J' carved into his cheek, your self-hatred grows even deeper.
"There's nothing you can do now. What's done is done." His warm breath fans over your face. His eyes are narrowed, staring you down like you're the one who locked him up and tortured him.
"Why am I here, huh? Why do you keep me around if you refuse to forgive me?" You ask him, your voice quivering from grief and exasperation.
"Would you shut the fuck up?" He groans and slams his fist against the brick wall, just inches from your head. Your eyes widen when he does, a jolt of fear running through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Jason's never hit you, but ever since he came back, you don't know what to expect from his behavior. He's erratic. Hurting. But at the same time, even more focused and calculating than ever. Its a terrifying combination, honestly.
He looks so much different now. Even though you're both still young, his features are harsher, his face hardened and scarred. You still see traces of the boy you fell in love with. It isn't always obvious, but you catch brief glimpses of the old him here and there. Its enough to keep you around, to remind yourself of how much you love him. Seeing him hurt like this and isolating himself is devastating.
"I don't know if I'm capable of forgiving you." He says between labored breaths. His eyes are dark, filled with a pain he refuses to share. "You left me in there to rot. The things he did to me, the things he made me do-"
"Jay." Your voice breaks, warm tears trailing down your cheeks. "Please, baby, I'm sorry. I failed you. I know I did." You reach out tentatively to caress his cheek, avoiding the scar. "I want to be here for you. I want to help you. But I feel like me being here is making things worse.”
Maybe you’re imagining it, but you catch a flicker of something in his expression. A crack in the hard mask he’s been wearing. “What are you saying?”
“If you hate me so much, maybe I should leave.” You struggle to get the words out. You hate yourself for even suggesting it. But the past few weeks with Jason have been tumultuous at best, and you’re not sure that your presence is actually helping him. If anything, you feel like you trigger him just by existing.
“Leave?” He asks, his face contorting in pain and anger. “You’re going to leave me? Really?”
“Only if that’s- I mean, I don’t know, Jason! I don’t know!” Unable to hold it in anymore, a heavy sob shakes your body, and you look away in shame. He’s still got you pinned against the wall, his arms caging you in and keeping you from turning away. “I just want you to be happy. I don’t think I’m capable of giving you happiness anymore. You won’t talk to me. All you do is yell. I want to be here for you, more than anything. But you won’t let me in. Maybe you’ll be better off without me.” Your voice is hushed and thick with emotion. You don’t want to leave him, now that he’s finally back. You were over the moon when you realized who was behind the Arkham knights mask.
Your best friend. Your lover, back from the dead.
But he hasn’t been the same. And you can’t blame him. He doesn’t go into detail about what happened, but you can see the evidence of his torture on his body. Not that he’s let you get too close.
He referred to you as ‘his girl’ in front of his militia. And now, after Gotham has recovered from the events surrounding his return, his hired men know that you’re to be protected at all costs. But other than a brief kiss upon your initial reunion, Jason hasn’t touched you. Yet he’s kept you close, physically, insisting you stay with him in his hideout. You quit your job, moved out of your apartment, left behind your old life as a law-abiding citizen to devote yourself to him and his cause. But your loyalty has been rewarded with him being emotionally closed-off and bitter towards you. It has you questioning where the two of you stand, and if he even wants you here.
“You’re wrong.” His voice is still harsh as he lowers his head to try and meet your eyes. He's close enough that you're able to smell his scent, a mix between his body wash and his natural musk. It draws you in, but you don't dare lean into him, in fear of fueling his annoyance towards you.
"Then why are you so mean to me?" You hate how weak you sound. You wish you were stronger, but being Jason's emotional punching bag has taken it's toll on you.
"I..." Some of his anger seems to fade, but his eyes are still swimming with turmoil. "I can be nicer."
"That isn't an answer."
Jason swallows hard, and removes his forearms from the wall so he's no longer caging you in. His jaw is clenched as he keeps staring at you and thinking about how to respond.
"I don't know." He finally says. "All I know is that I don't want you to go."
You slip to the side so you're no longer sandwiched between him and the wall, and take a step backwards to distance yourself. "I can't handle much more of this, Jason. It's too much. I can't stand fighting like this. It hurts me."
The look on your face has Jason's pulse quickening. "I'll be nicer." He says again.
"Jas-"
"I mean it." He reaches for your hand, and you need to consciously keep yourself from flinching away. "Just please, don't go."
Your heart aches at his plea. You don't want to leave, of course you'd rather be here. But you're not quite naïve enough to believe him when he say's he'll be nicer. You look down at where your hands are entwined, eyeing the thin silvery scars that litter his hand and wrist. Your mind briefly wanders, wondering what nightmare gave him those. Too thin to be from rope burn. Maybe zip ties. A few more tears pool in your eyes and blur your vision at the mental image of him being restrained in such an inhuman way.
"If you really want me, I'll stay." You whisper,
His eyes light up, but the relief doesn't touch the frown that's seemingly permanently etched onto his strong features. "Come here."
You don't fight the gentle tug on your hand. You let Jason hug you close to him, his heart still beating fast in his chest. You feel the steady rhythm against your cheek when he pulls you close and holds you against him. He's still angry, you can sense it radiating off of him in waves. But he's making a pointed effort to stay calm, which is an improvement.
"I don’t hate you. I love you. You know that, right?" He asks. You get a odd, fluttery feeling in your stomach. Not the same as the feeling you got the first time he told you he loved you. It’s a weird, perverted ghost of the feeling, one that makes the ache in your chest even worse.
You don't want to answer him. What would you even say? That you love him too? He already knows that, surely. And he laughed at you last time you told him. In front of several of his men. It was humiliating, and you've avoided saying it ever since.
"Hm? You know that, right?" He tightens his hold on you, his strong arms encouraging you to answer.
"Yeah. I know." You mumble back.
Jason looks down at you, and pulls away far enough to look you in the eyes again. What you would give to know what's going on in his head. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions are playing across his face.
You don't expect him to lean in and capture your lips in a sudden kiss. You freeze for a beat before you kiss him back, not quite relaxing against him, but letting yourself move with him. Still, it feels off. Almost like you're kissing a stranger. He isn't familiar anymore, which only encourages the tears to keep falling hot and slow down your cheeks.
As your tongues dance together, Jason begins to explore your body, warm hands running up and down your back. You wouldn't describe his touch as gentle, but he moves slowly and deliberately, finally resting on your ass and kneading your fat with his strong hands.
Is this his idea of 'being nicer'? You wonder to yourself. But you don't stop him. He's the only man you've ever loved, and when you thought he was dead, you missed his touch more than anything. Craved it. And you still do, even though you're more wary of him now. If you were thinking clearly, you'd probably stop his hand from sneaking down the front of your pants, and tell him that you should both take a breather and calm down. But he's left you so desperate for any speck of affection that you can't bring yourself to turn him away.
His hands are warm against your skin, but goosebumps still prickle your skin from the contact. He slips his hand in your underwear, not bothering to take his time. The sudden feeling of his rough fingers against your labia has you whimpering into his mouth. Jason rubs firm circles over your neglected clit as he breaks the kiss. "Yeah, you know?" He says back in a mocking tone. "Your body knows. She missed me, didn't she?"
The way he calls your cunt 'she' leaves a weird taste in your mouth. You pretend not to notice. "Of course I missed you." You say back to him. You grip his forearm gently and caress his skin with your thumb, feeling his muscles move and flex as he pleasures you, while your other arm grips his shoulder to steady your body. It's hard to relax with all the pent up tension you have inside. But you focus on his fingers, and how good it feels to be touched by your boyfriend again after so long.
"How quick did you move on. Hm?" His deep voice almost sounds like it's rumbling as asks. "How many people have you fucked since I disappeared?"
His question feels like a daggar to your heart. Maybe he really doesn't know, doesn't understand how hard his 'death' hit you. You haven't spoken about it much to him, since he obviously suffered much worse than you did while you were apart. It would feel insensitive to open up about the deep depression you fell into, one that your friends and even Dick tried and failed to help you out of. It was all you could do to even finish high school and get a job. You didn't see anyone else. You barely hung out with anyone. All you did was work and sleep. It was like the joy was sucked from your life the day you lost him.
But Jason doesn't know this. He mistakes your silence for shame, and he uses his other hand to cup your chin and force you to look at him as his fingers slowly warm you up. "What's wrong? Lost count?" The bitterness and mistrust are second nature to him now, after enduring Jokers sick mind games.
"No one... I promise." You lip trembles as the pleasurable sensations build between your legs. You grow wetter under his touch, even though your heart is heavy with grief.
"S'that right?" Jason lets out a dark chuckle and removes his hands from you abruptly. "Take your clothes off."
You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitate, looking from him to his bed along the opposite wall. Jason brings his fingers to his mouth, and to your horror, he sucks them clean, tasting your arousal without breaking eye contact.
"Do you want this?" He asks, growing annoyed at how you're freezing up.
"Do I want, what?" You say back a little too quickly.
Jason's nostrils flare as he lets out an irritated sigh. "Me. Do you want me to fuck you?"
Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you stammer out a hurried "Yes."
“You sure about that? Doll?” He cocks his head at you and studies your face carefully. The old nickname brings back memories, memories you’re sure are far too sweet in comparison to what’s about to happen.
But it doesn’t stop you from nodding at him all the same. You want him, there’s no denying that. Even if he isn’t the same boy you fell in love with, he’s still Jason. Your Jason.
Breathing heavily, Jason leans down to you so you're face to face once again. "Then take. Your fucking. Clothes. Off. Before I rip them off of you."
You glare at him through teary eyes, not appreciating the threat. But you’re not going to pass up the opportunity for intimacy. Hardening your gaze to match his, you hurridly remove your clothing piece by piece, folding the garments and setting them down neatly on the table beside you.
Jason surprisingly keeps his eyes on yours. Even as you reveal more of your body to him, his focus is on your face, not faltering.
When you step out of your underwear and set them on top of the pile, you finally say “You next.”
A dark chuckle departs Jason’s scarred lips before he replies, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Confused, you give him a quizzical look as he stomps over to his bed and kicks off his boots. They land beside him with a thud, making you jump a little.
“Get the fuck over here.”
Jason’s voice echoes across the studio apartment ominously. It’s pissing you off, how he’s still being so brash after just promising to be nicer to you. You shiver and run your hand up and down your arm while you walk over to join him, the cool air against your bare skin making you feel even more vulnerable. It’s clear to you that he’s enjoying this. Sitting on the edge of his bed, still almost fully clothed, finally letting himself drink in the sight of your naked body as you approach him.
“You’ve changed.” He comments after a few moments of tense silence. And he isn’t wrong. You’ve matured in the time he was gone, you’re a bit taller, your hair is longer, looking less like a teenager and more like a woman. But the changes in your body are subtle compared to his. Jason is at least 6 inches taller than what you remember. He’s put on a lot of muscle, and his features are sharper. Harsher, even. His face is different. Even ignoring the scars, there’s a new depth to him that’s hard to pinpoint.
You wonder how much of his transformation is due to just growing up, like you, and how much of it is from the trauma he experienced. Surely, being malnourished and tortured as a teenager would stunt a persons growth. But the man in front of you is anything but stunted. He’s massive. Again, your mind wonders about the details of his absence, about how long he took to recover from his torture before returning as the Arkham Knight.
“You just gunna stand there and gawk at me, or are you going to help me out?”
“Sorry.” You mutter hastily, embarrassed to be caught zoning out. You focus on him again, and realize he has his pants unzipped and his cock in his hand, stroking it with lust-clouded eyes. It takes a good deal of effort to hide the shock on your face from the sight as heat rushes between your legs. Your cheeks turn red, and you place your hand on his knee to steady yourself before you kneel in front of him. “You’ve changed too.”
Jasons pupils dilate when you place your hand over his own, taking over for him and stroking him lightly. He is already hard as a rock, his veins bulging under your touch.
“Way to state the obvious.” He leans back casually and uses his hands to prop himself up against the bed. Using both of your hands now, you jerk him off carefully, hoping he doesn’t notice the trembling in your fingers. “That’s it… shiiit, spit on it, baby, can you do that for me?”
With nervous excitement you obey his request, gathering some saliva with your tongue and letting it drip from your mouth down onto his shaft. His cock is feverish to the touch. The groan that rumbles in his chest as you spread your spit over him triggers emotions you haven't felt in a long time.
“Fuck yes, nice and sloppy for me, shit.”
You want to tug his pants down his legs to give yourself better access, but your instincts are telling you it’s a bad idea. Even as you became more aroused from his reactions, you still maintain a strong sense of unease, like he could snap at you without a moments notice.
When you peer up at his face, his eyes are closed, and some of the anger and tension he was holding onto is less apparent now. It gives you a spark of excitement, pride, even, that you’re finally able to provide him some peace.
His expression gives you enough confidence to lean your head down and take him in your mouth. You start with a soft kiss against his tip, then you swirl your tongue around it slowly, trying to gauge his reaction.
“M’not in the mood for teasing, doll.” Jason groans. “Better take a deep breath.”
That is all the warning he gives you before his hand grips the back of your head and pushes your mouth down onto him. You gag a little at the sudden intrusion before you remember to relax your throat to allow him fully in.
Another deep moan fills your ears when Jason feels you gag around him. Your eyes water as your nose brushes against the dark hair at the base of his cock. He’s definitely bigger than the last time you two did this. Or perhaps you’re just out of practice. Whatever the reason, you struggle to suck him off properly. After a few seconds of deep-throating him, pull your mouth away to cough and catch your breath.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He growls. "That felt good."
“You’re being a jerk.” You sputter out between coughs. “You said you’d be nicer to me.”
“This is me being nice.” He argues, bringing his hand to his cock to stroke himself again now that you've abandoned your effort. “You don’t want to suck me off? Fine. Get on the bed.”
“It’s not that I-“
“Get on the fucking bed.”
He stands up, and you’re momentarily scared he’s going to drag you. But his grip on your arm isn’t harsh, just a firm guide as he helps you onto the cheap mattress. You lay on your back and settle against the bedding, but Jason promptly flips you over, helping you onto your hands and knees.
You the mattress creek as he positions himself behind you. A quick look over your shoulder results in him gripping your hair and pushing your face into his pillows. "Stay just like that." He warns.
"Seriously? What, y-you're not going to let me look at you? Or kiss you?"
"Do you want me to fuck you or not?" The irritation returning to his gravely voice.
You close your eyes and try to stop your tears. You exhale a deep, steadying breath before you reply, "Yes, Jay, of course I do."
"Then quit complaining." The mattress shifts again as Jason moves behind you, his still clothed legs pressed against your rear. His left hand rests firmly on your waist, and a second later you feel him rub the tip of his cock against your clit. He drags himself up to the entrance of your cunt slowly, them back down again. He languidly repeats this back and fourth several times while he mutters under his breath "Shit... look at you, doll, touched your pussy for 5 seconds and you're already soaked for me." Jason smacks his shaft against your cunt a few times, your body visibly tensing when you feel the tip press against your asshole. "Relax," Jason scoffs, "I know you don't like that shit. You couldn't handle me in there before, there's no way you could take me there now."
Jason's weight shifts forward, pressing his hips into you. It only takes a moment for him to find the give and sheath the tip of his engorged length inside of your cunt. Green eyes stare in awe as he watches himself slowly disappear inside of you, pausing halfway, savoring how warm and wet you feel. He curses when your inner muscles clench and relax in little spasms as you try and accommodate him. "So fucking tight, goddammit, doll, shit, shiiit... feels so good when you do that."
Your eyes roll back at how badly you've missed the feeling him inside of you. This part, this feels familiar. This doesn't feel like a stranger. Your heart fills with relief, a sense of comfort washing over you and helping you to relax.
Jason pushes even further inside when your inner walls lax around his girth. A soft hiss escapes your teeth when his crown kisses your cervix. It's too bad that you miss the grin on his face as he takes in your reaction.
"You really haven't been with anyone else, have you? Tssk." Jason slaps your ass and watches the slight recoil in awe. "I can tell. You held out. You know what that tells me?" His large hands plant themselves on either side of you against the bed. Jason leans down, shifting his weight onto you and forcing you down into the mattress, prone-bone, fully bottoming out inside your tight cunt.
A whimper falls from your throat at the sting of how he stretches you. It creates an ache deep inside of you, deep enough that only he could reach.
"Tells me you knew I was still around. You're a liar."
"W-what?" That sense of ease and comfort is gone just as quick as it came.
Jason says your name in disapproval, "We both know you're loyal to a fault. That's why you're here. That's why you put up with my shit." His clothed chest presses against the soft skin of your back as his hips begin a slow rolling motion, thrusting into you while he brings his lips to your ear, brushing against your earring. "Me dying is the only way you could ever move on from me. But I did die. And you didn't move on. Which means you knew. You knew I was alive. Which is why you didn't betray me, even when Dick was practically throwing himself at you."
His pace increases as he speaks. His words are tainted with an bitter smugness, which makes your stomach churn.
"Jason, Jay, baby, that doesn't make any sense. I really t-thought you were gone-hmmpht!" Jason gives a sharper thrust which interrupts your explanation.
"Then why didn't you move on?" He's asks in a tense whisper.
"I couldn't!" You cry out in exasperation.
"Exactly".
His hips are rolling faster against you now, only pulling out an inch or so before thrusting back in, too greedy to pull out any further. He stays deep and buries himself as far as possible inside your neglected cunt. The friction feels divine, even if the rough cotton of his t-shirt is rubbing against your back instead of his bare chest. You long for skin to skin. The closeness is something you crave, but Jason, for whatever reason, decides to deprive you of it, even though he's balls deep in your guts.
"Fuck off!" You spit out between your shallow pants and moans. "You're being a jerk!"
"Yeah?" His voice strains as his pace picks up even more. The mattress is squeaking softly and bumping up against the wall with each rut of his hips. "I'm a jerk? You think I'm a jerk?"
You moan in frustration and pound your fist against the mattress. It's difficult for you to find the right words to say when his cock is hitting all the right spots inside you. You've dreamt of this, being forced to live with the longing inside of you for a partner you thought you'd never see again. It's everything you've been craving, to be one with him again. But he's souring the intimacy with his smartass mouth.
"I don't wanna fight, Jay." You mutter in response to him. Jason's hand cradles the back of your head and pushes it further into the pillows. You're almost ashamed at how it turns you on, being crushed and handled roughly by him like this.
"Ha, don't believe that for a second." A warm hand snakes down the side of your body and slips around your hips so he has access to your clit. He's still pistoning deep into you, now nipping and biting at your neck as his fingers work your sensitive nub, sandwiched between your body and the mattress. The added stimulation makes you squeeze your thighs together. "C'mon, too late to be shy, doll. Open up f’me." His voice is a gruff rumble in you ear. It sends a chill down you spine and makes your toes curl, clenching around him to alleviate the pool of tension building in your core.
You should have better self control. You should rise above, be better than his antics. But your mind is reeling and trying to reconcile how good he’s making you feel with how irritated you are. So without much thought, you quip back, “Says the man who won't even take his shirt off when he fucks."
“The fuck did you just say?” Jason pinches your clit between his fingers, earning a sharp yelp from you that’s muffled against his pillows. His pace doesn’t falter, but his body tenses as the anger finds him again.
The sting lingers, and you push your thighs together even more, effectively squeezing him out of you somewhat unintentionally.
“No, none of that now, you’re going to let me in.”
A deep inhale blesses your lungs when Jason pushes himself up off of you, leaning back and grabbing your hips to force you on your hands and knees once more. You grip the sheets and steady yourself, unprepared for the harsh smack that stings your ass cheek.
“Ouch!” You whimper, taking a chance to look back at him again. Your lips part to voice your protest, but Jason chooses this moment to impale your body back onto him and fill up your dripping cunt in a single jolt. You swallow the cry that threatens to leave your lips. You feel so full, your eyes flutter when he starts his pace up again, the sound of wet skin smacking against wet skin filling the apartment. He’s going faster now, his fingers almost painful on your hips as the uses your body for release.
“Look at how wet you are, doll, shit.” Jason’s eyes are heavy with desire as the line between lust and anger starts to dissolve. “You know what I think?” He asks through gritted teeth.
You’re hardly in a state to answer him. The friction of his arousal pounding in and out of you, the weight of his heavy balls slapping against your clit, the sound of him straining and losing control, its making it difficult to focus on much else. As your arousal builds, your brain slows down, unable to comprehend anything other than your boyfriends cock filling you to the brim.
“I think you like when I’m mean. Look at how soaked you are right now, dripping onto my bed like a greedy slut.”
A low, depraved moan vibrates in your throat, only further proving his point.
“Ha, that’s right. Fucking… fucking knew it, god- fuck, taking me so good, so fucking good.” Jason moans your name, repeating it as he senses his release getting closer. His fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your hips, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow.
“Fucking love this, I… I… dammit, I love you, doll. I love you so much.” Jason's filter is gone. He’s lost in the feeling of your soft pussy squeezing him, the wet sounds of your sex bringing him to the brink.
Each hard thrust of his hips has your body recoiling. Your chest falls down to the bed, hands gripping the pillow for dear life as the vigilante relentlessly pounds into you.
“I said... I love you, bitch.” His voice actually wavers slightly at the repeated admission, his emotions peaking and threatening to spill out.
You try to respond to him, you really do. But Jason fucks the air right out of your lungs, moving at a bruising pace, ramming himself so deep in your body that your vision is blurry and nothing even close to a real word has a chance at leaving your lips. You're breathless and cock drunk as he abuses that soft spot inside of you, building up your pleasure to an unbearable level. You're close. And so is he. You tremble and pant as your orgasm hits you hard, a warm fuzzy sensation radiating between your legs where your bodies meet, more of your slick splattering Jason's thighs in droplets from how hard he's fucking you. The sensation of your pussy convulsing around his hard length is the final push he needs.
You attempt to muffle the fragmented scream that falls from your mouth at his last few brutal thrusts. Jason curses, his breath catching as his balls tighten and release his load into you, mixing with your own fluids to create a sticky mess that oozes out around his cock. His hips finally slow, giving a few more gentle pumps as he rides his high. His labored breathing is accompanied by more curses and soft groans. You stay still, reeling from your own release, your mind still fuzzy and not thinking clearly.
Jason leans forward, putting his weight one hand while the other reaches for your flushed face, reaching around to grip your chin firmly. Following his lead, you let him turn your head to finally look back at him. The anger is still there. You're not sure if it will ever go away. But there is a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn't there before. He's still inside of you, hunched over your body, flushed face only inches from yours.
"Say it back."
Your eyes widen at how broken he sounds. It takes a few seconds before you can get your mouth to move, but as soon as you've gathered yourself you respond, you say "I love you, Jason" with as much tenderness as you can muster.
He nods, eyes narrowing, before finally sitting up and removing himself from you. "Good." He mumbles, moving until he's sitting on the edge of the bed and sighing. "Remember that next time you threaten to leave."
"It... it wasn't a threat." You explain, but you're so breathless and fucked-out that you're not sure if he hears you. Relaxing onto the bed, you lay on your side to look at him with worry. The emotions inside of you are tumultuous, confusing you even further as you try and decide if this was progress or not.
"I keep you around because you belong here. With me." Jason stands up, avoiding your anxious gaze and keeping his back to you. "Don't fucking forget it." His feat thud against the floor as he walks over to the bathroom, disappearing and closing the door behind him with a slam.
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⭓ masterlist ⭓
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please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.
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killerlookz · 1 day
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to my joost fic writers some lame ass blog is literally just rbing joost fics to complain abt ppl sexualizing him wahh wahh... just thought you guys should be warned <3
anyways... for those who feel offended by my blog's content, joost will literally never see my tumblr, so there's no need to "feel bad" for him, he literally has no clue who i am, and is living his day to day life completely unaffected by my, and any other writers work... and you rbing it, or bringing the work outside of tumblr is only bringing more attention to it- if he ever says he is uncomfortable with fics being written about him in this manner, i will obviously respectfully take them down <3 as i actually do respect him as a human being! im not some weird gross little freak who is actively trying to make him uncomfortable (and same can be said for the rest of the joost fic writers on here) contrary to what the twt and tiktok fans may believe
rpf has been apart of fandom forever, and i understand that this is definitely a debate that has been going on for awhile and people may absolutely have their own opinions and personal boundaries, YOU are not joost, nor are you any other celebrity- and therefore you cannot speak to what makes them comfortable or not, and it is not your job OR your place to make that decision for them.
please do not act like fic writers are actually being invasive or equate this to any sort of harassment, we aren't shoving this shit into joost's face, or forcing him to read these fics.
but this being said, i always tag rpf as such, and therefore, if rpf bothers you, literally just block the tag. people's tumblrs are THEIR personal space, it is not your job to police the internet for your fav! you literally have to ACTIVELY seek out these works to read it. there's a reason all my content is kept behind the "read more and tag rpf and smut" because i dont want you to see it if you DONT want to!! that's why it's hidden behind tags/read more because those "technically" act as consent for you to see the works.
but creating an ENTIRE blog to be weird abt fic writers is strange behavior! however i assume this person is probably a child and i will give them grace for that fact, and with that being said, you shouldn't be on NSFW blogs to begin with!
also please do not actively seek out content that upsets you!!!! it will do just that!!! upset you
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starryevermore · 1 day
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the house of snow (22) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 
chapter summary: you and coriolanus adjust.
word count: 1,733
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: fluff, mention of morning sickness, pet name (petal), not proofread
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The benefit of being pregnant was that Coryo and Coriolanus have seemed to become the best of friends. The drawback was that they became united in their overprotective tendencies. Coryo would insist that you stay in bed longer, and Coriolanus would sit on your chest to make sure you didn’t try to sneak away. Or Coryo would deny invitations to balls because of your morning sickness, and Coriolanus would attack the skirts of your gown to make sure it was in no occasion to be worn when you tried to convince your husband that you were well enough to be in attendance. It would have been infuriating if it wasn’t also so damned sweet. At least Coryo didn’t become the sort of husband who would keep you from your work. Probably because you were seated beside him and he could ensure that you weren’t doing anything that could potentially harmed yourself or the baby. 
You leaned your head against Coryo’s arms as he shuffled around some papers on the desk. He looked down at you, his brows pinching together. 
“Do you need to rest?” he asked. “Should I get the physician?”
You turned your head to press a kiss to his bicep. “Worry wart.”
“Forgive me if I’m concerned when my wife is entering the most dangerous part of her life—carrying another’s life,” Coryo said. He reached up, his cold hand resting on your warm face. His thumb stroked over the swell of your cheek. “I’m not going to take any chances when it comes to your health.”
There it was again. You knew of Coryo’s anxieties about your eventual pregnancy, but with everything happening so quickly, it was easy to be frustrated with his behaviors. With the exception of his adoration for you, Coryo kept his feelings so close to his chest. Even when it was obvious why he was being so overprotective, you sometimes forgot that part of him was still the broken boy who lost his mother. You took a breath, trying to steady your own overwhelming emotions.
“And I will tell you if I’m over-exerting myself. I may have never been with child before, but I know myself well enough to know when I’m pushing too far.”
A sigh escaped Coryo’s lips. “I just worry. I cannot lose you. In fact, I demand that I be the one to go first.”
You giggled. “I don’t think you get to demand things like that.”
“I am King. The only person who can tell me no is you, so, please, let me be the one to go first.”
You kissed his bicep again. “Very well. But you better live a long, long life with me before you go.”
“I wouldn’t dare sacrifice a single minute of a long life with you.”
“Would you sacrifice a minute to walk in the gardens with me?”
Coryo smiled and nodded. He stood first then held a hand out to you so he could aid you. Once you were standing, your hand slid to the crook of his arm and Coryo led you out of the office. He gave a curt nod to the Peacekeeper who was stationed outside the door and the two of you continued out of the palace and to the gardens.
The moment the sun hit your face, you couldn’t hold back your smile any longer. You had been holed up in the palace for the better part of the week, both because of Coryo and because of the morning sickness. It was nice to finally been the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair. Maybe pregnancy would be easier if you spend the entirety of it outdoors. You looked up at your husband. Even the weight on his shoulders seemed to be lifted once he was out of the palace. 
You took a seat on a bench, and Coryo sat beside you. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s nice to be out here,” you said. 
“It is. We should come out more often,” Coryo agreed. He caressed your face, a soft smile curving across his face. You leaned in, stole a kiss. “I am sorry if I have been overbearing.”
“It’s sweet. I am sure most husbands would only be concerned if the child I had was a boy,” you said. 
“Boy, girl, I don’t care. As long as you and our child is healthy, I will be happy.”
Leaning your head against Coryo’s shoulder, you said, “I probably will take a step back from our public engagements, though. It was exhausting just coming down here, and we haven’t even left the estate.”
Coryo barked out a laugh. “Well, if I knew it would be that easy to get my way, I would’ve taken you to the gardens sooner.”
“Oh hush!” But still, you giggled. “One a month, I think, will suffice. Fewer than that when I am further along, of course, and if the physician advises otherwise.”
“Ah, so I could have also been bribing the physician?” Coryo teases. 
You gave his chest a light smack. “Stop it, I’m being serious here.”
“I know, and I greatly appreciate that.”
“Now, what do you say we shirk our duties and spend the rest of the day in bed?”
Coryo grinned. “I thought you would never ask.”
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You sat in the library, legs curled up under you, a book on your lap. Coriolanus sat at your feet, blinking curiously at you. You hadn’t intended for Coriolanus to have joined you, but despite you and Coryo coming to an agreement about your health, Coriolanus seemed to be certain that one wrong move would mean your end. 
“Well, this is a very non-traditional royal portrait,” Coryo said, stepping into the library and up to the painter. He watched as the artist. took delicate care in painting you. 
“This isn’t for my royal portrait,” you dismissed as you turned a page in your book. “We had that done weeks ago. Some finishing touches still need to be done before it can be unveiled, of course. But this is a personal portrait I’ve commissioned.”
Coryo looked over at you. His brow raised. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure you out. “Is that so? What do you need a personal portrait for?”
“Well, there will soon come a time when I am too tired and too pregnant to be in the office with you. I thought a portrait hung over the desk would serve as a good reminder of who you must consider in ever decision you make.”
The painter’s brush stilled. You watched as he slowly looked back at the King, undoubtedly waiting for a typical man’s rage—to yell at you for being so audacious, to destroy the painting, and to ensure that the painter never would be able to make art again. But your Coryo only laughed. 
“As if I could ever forget you, petal. I was planning to bring our work into the bedroom—”
“There is nothing less attractive you could say than that.”
The color continued to drain from the painter’s face. Poor fellow. Perhaps you should tell him to take a break while you speak with your husband. 
“Perhaps you are right.”
“No, I am. If you bring work into our bed, you will be swiftly removed to the Queen’s Chambers.”
Coryo smiled still. “Very well. Then I should thank you for being so courteous to not wholly deprive me of your presence.”
You flipped another page in the book. “I’m think of having another painting commissioned in a few months.”
The painter looked to you, his demeanor finally relaxing. “It would be an honor to paint you again, Your Majesty,” he said. 
“Have you done any maternity portraits?” you asked. “I know it is as non-traditional as this portrait, of course, but I thought it would be another nice present for my husband.”
The painter glanced back at the King standing over his shoulder. “I am certain His Majesty will be pleased with anything you present him. Your Majesty.”
“Something in the gardens, I think. Coryo has these beautiful rose bushes. We should incorporate them somehow.”
“I love when you pretend I’m not here, petal,” Coryo said. He patted the painter’s shoulder. “If you continue to capture my wife’s beauty as well as you have been, you will be the official royal portraitists.”
You watched as the painter flushed. “It would be a tremendous honor to be bestowed such a title,” he said. 
Coryo nodded at the painter then stepped around the easel. He walked over to you, bent down, and kissed you softly. “How much longer will this take?”
“Only an hour or so until we lose the sunlight,” you said. “Why? Are you becoming anxious without me by your side?”
Coryo smiled, his pretty blue eyes twinkling. “You know I always want you by my side.” He kissed you again. “I shall return in an hour then.”
“I eagerly await your return.”
He turned to Coriolanus and pointed a finger at the furry baby. “And I expect you to alert me if this ends even a second sooner.”
Coriolanus meowed in return. 
As Coryo left the library, you found the painter staring at you. You expected him to resume painting, but he continued to stare. “Is there something the matter?” you asked. 
“I have painted many couples in my time,” he said, “and I have never seen a husband as devoted as His Majesty. If it would please Your Majesty, I would love to come another day and paint a portrait of the two of you together.”
You smiled. “To add to our gallery of non-traditional portraits?”
“Of course,” he said. “Anything that the two of you wish for.”
Oh, you liked that. You grinned ear-to-ear as you asked, “And if I wished for another portrait of myself, done in the style of the goddess of old?”
He flushed. “Anything you wish, Your Majesty.”
“You are going to be quite handsomely paid by the time we are done with you.”
You turned back to your book, still smiling as you considered the various portraits you were going to gift your Coryo. He could give you a library, yes, but you were going to give him a gallery. If he didn’t appreciate art in all its glory before, he would soon enough. 
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beebee18 · 2 days
Text
Ramen & Confessions
Lee Know x Reader
Genre; fluff, frenemies to lovers, feel good.
Characters; Minho, Y/n, Felix Brief mention- Changbin, Han, Chan & Hyunjin
Word count; 7k
Summary; You and Minho never were the best of friends however his worry when you finally attend movie night after being mia for a week seems to give way for his seemingly cool confession.
Warnings; Extremely cliche, slight insecurities, tall reader (like 5'7 and more), like one bad word.
Main masterlist skz masterlist
(I made a post long time ago about a Minho ff and you guys asked to be tagged. I would like to apologize for it not being a complete ff but I hope you enjoy this oneshot of cheesiness.) @antisocial-socialbutterfly @lixxpix @kaiyaba
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Your thoughts lingered on Minho when you remembered him staring at you in the doorway, and after your talk with Felix. Even if you didn't like each other, not that you didn't, he was handsome and caring & sweet. It would be impossible to not crush on the guy, you owed him an apology.
So you moved to sit closer to him. He was surprised, to say the least, when you tapped his thigh to get his attention.
Turning to face you was not a good idea, you were so close, a mere jerk of his head and your lips would meet his, with the tv lights flashing at you, your brown eyes framed by those cute little glasses, slightly dishevelled curly hair framing your face oh so beautifully, and that smile with your barely there dimples (you insisted you had), you were a sight.
This was the closest and calmest you had been with each other in a while and it seemed to stop time for a second. He looked so pretty, his bedhead, sweats and no makeup on, shiny brown eyes looking into yours, the mole on his nose so cute you want to just boop it and that look of surprise mixed with concern on his face could melt you into a puddle if physically possible.
"I'm sorry I disappeared without saying anything." You started in a hushed voice, so as to not disturb the others. "I should have told you guys why earlier."
A snarky remark or comment would've been better cause what he did next made your heart skip a beat.
"It's okay y/n, I'm not gonna lie I was concerned, especially with Felix reminding everyone every minute that you could've 'died'. I am glad you're back." He nudged your arm with his and went back to the tv screen.
You stared at Minho side, small smile on your face, for a few seconds before Han coughed from behind the man, smirking at you, making you blush, you quickly turned to the screen to distract yourself.
Nearing the end of the movie people were asleep, mainly Felix, Han, Changbin and Hyunjin and somehow in a pile... Chan took off a few minutes ago to the studio leaving you and Minho the only ones awake.
After the movie ended you both looked around the find the human pile of idols making you giggle and Minho shake his head to stifle a laugh.
"Are you gonna put them to bed? How would that even work?" You ask standing up to help clean the remnants of the night.
"Eh just let them be, they'll separate when they want to. Are you leaving?" He asks as you start collecting your stuff, his expression slightly glum.
"I'll just move my stuff aside so I can help you clean, don't want you to do all this alone." You smiled at him putting your bag away and offering him a hand.
Minho swore he could scream in that moment.
He did take your hand and stood up facing you. You both just stood there for a few seconds, hands in each others before he cleared his throat.
You looked down and started gathering wrappers, bowls and edible food that just fell to take to the kitchen, so did Minho. And that's how he ended up making you both ramen.
He'd asked if you were hungry and you replied yes, after that no words were spoken. You went out to check on the boys, switch off electronics and when you came back there were two packs of cup noodles in front of Minho on the counter as he waited for the water to boil.
"Minho what... " You trailed off a questioning look on your face.
"You said you were hungry so..." He shrugs, smiling sheepishly, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.
You went and stood next to him, shoulders brushing the others, as he poured water in the cups and looked at you for a second, you grin at him in return which makes him chuckle, effectively hiding the cute that slipped his lips.
"Why are you laughing?" You ask him, giggling a little yourself, leaning on the counter adjacent to him. He was so cute and pure like this, you wanted to crush him in a hug so bad.
Once he was done with his fit of laughter he turns to you, coming closer, closer than ever. The proximity burned you, you guys weren't even on speaking terms 2 weeks ago and now...
"Wha-what are you doing?" You ask not wanting to embarrass yourself but you were flustered beyond belief and he was being nice?? To you??
"How come you don't hate me?" He asked staring into your eyes, he wanted a genuine answer, there was no point in lying to him, he seemed impatient.
"Well, you being mean isn't a reason for me to hate you. I knew not every one of Felix's friends would like me, it was okay. I was coping just well by being mean back. There was never any hate from my side. Unfortunately for me, the one I like, doesn't like me back...." The look of shock on your face as you slapped your hand over your mouth made Minho throw his head back in laughter.
People often said you rambled or spoke a lot. You agree now.
The embarrassment slowly creeping up on you. You made a move to slip away but Minho put his hands down by your hips on the counter and laugh slowly dissipating into a small smile, looking at your blushed face now.
"I'm sorry for being mean to you, truth is, I like you a lot. I've liked you since you visited us at dance practice for the first time and brought everyone homemade cookies. I was shy, I still am but your flustered state gives me confidence." He says, wanting to kiss the small pout from your face.
"Why didn't you say anything?" You asked, finally processing his words.
He liked you?? He still likes you?!
"I couldn't at the time, you were bestfriends with Felix, I didn't want the dynamic to shift plus there was a high possibility you liked any of the other 7 dudes in the group." He finishes scratching the back of his neck, looking down ears going red.
"And you?"
"Oh, I-I just, I didn't think someone like you would fancy someone like me." You hesitated gesturing to yourself, the insecurities finally creeping up.
Great way to ruin the moment brain.
"Someone like me?" He questioned, raising one of his eyebrows, tonguing his cheek as if he knew what was coming.
"Come on Min, look at you, your life, the people around you. I don't fit in, like a friend great but not as anything more. I know I sound dumb after we've both basically confessed but still..." You finish hesitantly.
"Y/n you'd fit right in. You fit amazing right now, that would just be a few more steps, it would work if we wanted it to." He says comforting you, his heart pacing at the nickname.
"Also I'm not your type, remember Han Sora, the girl you dated when I first met you guys, she was so pretty and petite, her clothes and shit. I admired her so much. She's your type, not me." You finish, eyes dropping to his chest to avoid his piercing gaze, that's all the argument you had.
"First of all, she was a publicity stunt and an obsessed trainee who was fired after I complained." He says, placing his right hand on your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. "Secondly, you're beautiful, kind, funny, smart, mature and well dressed. Being taller than the national average of a country you don't belong to is nothing to be insecure of, and let's be honest..." He lips tug up into a smile, hand falling to your hip from your jaw "...those thighs, are to die for." He says slowly with a wink, making you widen your eyes with shock and blushing like crazy.
"You wanna know who my type is?" He asks, searching for uncertainty in your eyes.
"Who?"
"You."
His lips came close to yours, an inch of a distance between them. He wanted you to make the final move, being careful so you'd have nothing to regret.
Your lips met, his hands on your hips, yours around his shoulders. Months of silently crushing on each other, finally being able to express it.
When he angled his face to deepen the kiss and your noses bumped, you separated, a giggle leaving you. He smiled softly, complete adoration in his eyes.
"Now what?" You asked, a warm feeling spreading through you.
"You wanna have ramen with me?" He asks, smirking, gesturing to the cups that have been sitting out for the past 15 minutes.
You scrunched your nose at the implication, your stomach saying other things "But like, I'm actually hungry." A small pout appearing on your face.
He quickly kissed it away taking your hand in his, walking into the living room to collect his things and yours, and now towards the door.
"Where are we going?"
"Our first date, the convenience store across the street. Great ramen!" He winks at you before pulling you closer into his chest, smiling wide at you, you couldn't help but reciprocate.
....
Texting; ( Y/n, Felix )
Felix: Did you leave already?
Felix: Where's Minho? Is he dropping you off?
Felix: He is, isn't he? 😏
Felix: Told you he had a thing for you.
Felix: Oh yeah ignore Lix when he's right, sure sure, I get it.
....
Texting; ( Minho, Felix )
Felix: Don't fbck this up.
Minho: Never Lix, never.
.
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666writingcafe · 2 days
Text
An Overgrown Puppy
Cerberus
It's really lonely down here.
I understand that most people are scared of a giant dog with three heads, especially when it's as loud as I am, but I don't mean them any harm. I can't help that I get excited easily.
Of course, when they start calling me names, that makes me angry. I suppose that's why I'm in this cavern in the first place: too much destruction on my part.
Still, it would be nice to have someone that wasn't afraid of me.
"Look, there's flowers bloomin' all over the place!"
As much as I want to begin jumping for joy, I must remain calm. The last set of people that came down here wanted to hurt me. I ended up with a couple meals out of the ordeal, but I wouldn't want to go through that experience again. For one, they tasted rather vile. It took me ages to get that out of my mouth, and even with that I can still taste them sometimes when I burp. It's rather annoying.
"Look how pretty we are..."
Oh no. Not the flowers.
Instinctively, I close all six of my eyes. If I can't see them, they can't tempt me, and my mind can remain clear.
Oh for fuck's sake!
That's not my voice. It doesn't belong to the other two heads, either. No, this belongs to someone else entirely.
This was meant to be a solo venture, but nooo. The brothers just HAD to tag along and make this more difficult for me. As it is, I doubt this creature is going to submit to me, anyway. I don't have anything it wants, but somehow Barbatos is convinced that I do.
Barbatos? They know him?
I like him. Unfortunately, he's too busy to take care of me properly, but he at least seemed sad to have to lock me away like this. Still, orders are orders; while the prince is a lot kinder than the king, he still has to worry about the fate of his people, and I've done too much damage to justify me continuing to walk free unsupervised.
Footsteps.
The flowers are still murmuring, so it's not safe for me to open my eyes and see who it is.
Oh. It's you. Hello, Cerberus.
Why are they acting like they know me?
They smell familiar.
Don't be ridiculous. We've never even met them before.
Listen, I know my scents, and I'm telling you, I recognize this one.
Here we go again. My left and right head arguing again. It doesn't help that one can see into the past while the other one into the future. Makes for way too many philosophical conversations that frankly give me a headache.
Then again, they do make sense sometimes. Like right now.
Let him sniff them.
Thankfully, the flowers shut up at this point, so I can finally open my eyes and see this person for myself. They're rather small. Maybe they would make a good appetizer, but chances are, they wouldn't fill me up, so there's no point in even trying.
The being before me extends their hand out towards me, and I lean down low enough so that my right head can sniff it.
MC! I knew it was you!
What's a person from the future doing here? Don't they know that their presence is going to change the timeline completely? They won't be able to return to the same place that they left.
That's a risk I was willing to take.
They can hear us?
I'm a little surprised myself. I thought our connection would be nonexistent here, but I guess you still know who I am. At least, part of you does.
I most certainly do! You give some of the BEST belly rubs and treats ever! Plus, you always come and soothe me whenever I can't sleep. I've missed you SO much, MC. It just isn't the same without you.
Please tell me they don't end up abandoning us. The idea of a good belly rub does sound nice.
No, no, nothing like that. In the timeline that I come from, you're primarily someone else's. I just help take care of you whenever I swing by to visit.
Oh, PLEASE! You're more than a mere caretaker. You're like my adoptive parent at this point. If I knew I wouldn't scare people up in the human world, I'm SURE we'd spend more time together, but as of right now, that simply isn't possible.
I can sort of follow along with the idea this MC being a human and yet appearing like a demon in this moment, but what I don't understand is this: if they don't end up being my owner, then who does?
This guy.
I totally didn't see him walk in. He's rather imposing with his wings spread out like that.
LUCI!!!
"Luci"?
It's short for Lucifer.
"Zephyr, what exactly is going on?" Lucifer asks, frustration evident in his voice. "Why are all of you down here in the first place? This isn't a safe place for you to be in. At all."
"Well, I came under Barbatos' instructions. Can't say the same about your brothers."
"Bullshit."
"You are more then welcome to talk to Barbatos yourself if you don't believe me, but I'm telling you the truth."
"Then why didn't you tell them to go home?"
"Because Mammon wanted to do something that would cause the other demons to finally shut up. He's tired of you all being treated like shit simply because you used to be angels." Lucifer slowly blinks in shock. "Believe me, I had every intention of sending them away, but I also wasn't about to argue with Mammon when he's that passionate about wanting to improve your situation here in the Devildom."
Six more demons appear, but they hover around the entrance, too afraid to step inside. Lucifer turns his head and looks straight at me, appearing deep in thought. It's clear that he's not the same person that my right head recognizes. Not because of his appearance, but rather his personality. He seems way too cold and rigid to love an animal.
Then again, I've heard that sometimes, those that appear that way end up being the ones that care about others the most. Maybe he's just putting up a emotional barrier at the moment, and he'll open up eventually.
"I suppose there's not room for him at your place, is there?" Lucifer finally sighs, maintaining eye contact with me.
"Unfortunately, no," MC/Zephyr answers. "And I don't want him wandering the woods by himself. He could get hurt." Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I really don't want to do this, but he seems rather attached to you, and it would be cruel to leave him here without knowing if and when he can see you again." He pauses. "He can stay at the House of Lamentation with us, but he's your responsibility, Zephyr. I don't want to hear you complain about having to take care of him, and you're certainly not going to push him onto one of us. If you can't manage that and still complete your duties as our attendant, then I'll have no choice but to put him back in here." MC/Zephyr nods their head.
"Understood." There's a slight glint in their eye, but either Lucifer doesn't notice it or is simply choosing not to comment on it.
It doesn't really matter in any case, because I'm about to be free of this cave! Oh, to breathe fresh air again!
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr
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sanaexus · 5 hours
Text
social's as shidou's girlfriend
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-liked by itoshi_sae, isaichii and 145.7k others
yourusername: i feel bad for rin this mf don't even go easy on his on girl
tagged: shiidoryu
shiidoryu: they say all is fair in war and love ↳itoshi_sae: it's love and war fucking idiot ↳shiidoryu: you love me 🥺👉👈 ↳yourusername: mate IN MY FUCKING COMMENTS? ↳shiidoryu: you're saving as if i don't eat that pussy every night ↳yourusername: blocked. reported. I FUCKING HATE YOU??? ↳chigi.who: woah guys maybe like don't do that here??
nikkoki: why the last image. ↳yourusername: why not 🙁 ↳megubachi: for gits and shiggles 🥰 ↳rin.itoshi: that's not the fucking quote?? ↳megubachi: and you're not the best striker so stafu ↳rin.itoshi: TAJTS SO UNNNESCARY?? ↳isaichii: look at rin finally genz-ing w the spelling errors and capital letters ↳hiyori: feels like yesterday he was js a little baby ↳megubachi: they grow up too fast ↳rin.itoshi: you guys are my 13th reason.
shiidoryu: si 💔you💔won't💔mention💔the💔part💔where💔i💔 bought💔you💔icecream💔and 💔then💔talked💔sjit💔ab 💔your💔ex💔 ↳yourusername: and you're not gonna mention the part where we had the bet who could swing the fastest and i won bc you fell on your butt and felt like you were ab to throw up so you HAD to get me icecream? ↳shiidoryu: #donttakltomeiamdespressed #betryaedbymyowngf #emo ↳karasu_tabito: HE FELL ON HIS ASS? DO YOU HAVE THE RECORDING I'LL PAY FOR IT ↳yourusername: bet how much we talking? ↳karasu_tabito: enough to buy another shidou prolly ↳yourusername: check your dms ↳eita.otoya: are we buying people from the black market ↳kenyu.yukimiya: no we are not the fuck?
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-liked by kuniisuke, megubachi and 159.4k others
shiidoryu: i actually do love my girl and i don't always act gay
tagged: yourusername
julian.loki: "i actually do love my girl" proceeds to try to throw her into a garbage can ↳mikka.kaiser: fucking dustbin you mean? ↳hiyori: OH MY GOD U REMIND ME AB LINDASY FROM MY 4TH GRADE CLASS WHO USED TO NITPICK ON EVERYONE FOR THERE ENGLISH ↳mikka.kaiser: their* ↳isaichii: stfu it's called a trashcan ↳kuniisuke: i think we're straying off topic BC THAT'S A WHOLE AHH HUMAN THAT'S GOING TO BE PUT ON A FUCKING DUSTBIN ↳mikka.kaiser: in* ↳oliver.aikyu: i swear to fucking god i will ↳alexis.ness: nuh uh ↳yourusername: MAN KUNIGAMI AND OLIVER THE ONLY REAL ONES FR ↳oliver.aiku: we gotchu girl ↳kuniisuke: second that except in a less gay manner ↳julian.loki: SHE'S BEING PUT IN TRASH. ↳rin.itoshi: she's fine. shidou has that trash tan all the time ↳megubachi: i think she's okay considering how ego roams around with that garbage ahh haircut ↳isaichii: that trash can't be worse than igaguri's football skills, she's fine ↳mikka.kaiser: YOU SAID FOOTBALL THANK FUCKING YOU ↳shiidoryu: you're fucking him?
user1: ignoring the second picture the one is actually so cute like 🌷🧚‍♀️💅🎀💕✨‼💯 ↳yourusername: lyt cutie ↳shiidoryu: YOU NEVER EVEN CALL ME CUTE? ↳yourusername: go stare at sae's ass or something ↳itoshi_sae: no don't do that don't stare at my ass ↳yourusername: jokes aside he was actually nice to me in that picture (he didn't try throwing me off) ↳user2: something in that sentence makes me think she got thrown off a swing far too many times ↳shiidoryu: in my defense she keeps putting tomatoes in my sandwhich ↳yourusername: you look like one don't blame me
karasu_tabito: did he fall on his butt this time? ↳yourusername: he was careful bc i was sitting on his lap ↳eita.otoya: shidou in his softie green flag era? ↳yourusername: what if he's actually doing this to gain my trust and like gives me off to some kidnapper ↳nikkoki: bffr rn he would probably BE the kidnapper ↳shiidoryu: yeah what if I AM the kidnapper
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-liked by chigi.who, hiyori and 198.5k others
yourusername: he isn't always an asshole <3
tagged: shiidoryu
chigi.who: the last picture?? ↳yourusername: my life goals right there ↳yourusername: shidou that better be us when we grow up ↳shiidoryu: that already IS us ↳yourusername: are you called me a 73.8 year old grandma? ↳shiidoryu: IN MY DEFENSE IM CALLING MY SELF A GRANDPA TOO
aryu.jubei: your hair is very ✨glam✨drop the hair care routine (did he try to yank your hair?) ↳yourusername: check dms ↳yourusername: SURPRISNGLY NO?? HE WAS ACTUALLY REALLY NICE TODAY?? ↳shiidoryu: i'm always nice baby ↳yourusername: yeah to your side chicks ↳shiidoryu: YOU are the side chick, sae is ml ↳yourusername: oh fuck you what does that man have other than thick thighs, a thick ass and an ass attitude ↳itoshi_sae: what do i not have ↳yourusername: proper relationship with your family ↳itoshi_sae: fuck off
shiidoryu: you look pretty ↳yourusername: ily im gonna go cry ↳shiidoryu: DON'T CRY WHY ARE YOU CRYING NOW I COMPLIMENTED YOU ↳yourusername: THAT'S THE THING YOI COMPLIMENTED ME ↳shiidoryu: wajt
user3: she looks so pretty and happy in the second pic. shidou you better watch out, i'm in your walls ↳shiidoryu: my walls are nasty, what if my dead hamsters are there ↳yourusername: MY TEIGO. I BOUGHT IT TO YOUR HOUSE AND IT JS DESPAWNED ↳shiidoryu: I'M SORRY
user4: when a zesty ass loving thigh loving (man loving) tomato looking demon who kicks balls around and pick fight w emo boys can pull ↳yourusername: my dms are open for u ↳shiidoryu: no they're not ↳oliver.aiku: how much we betting that he's gonna go make 15 accounts to spam y/n dms ↳isaichii: betting a whole ahh bachira ↳megubachi: WHY ARE U BETTING ME OFF??? ↳chigi.who: betting my other acl ↳kuniisuke: HELP WHAT?? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: betting my already shit vision ↳nagi.seishiro: my gaming console ↳reo.miikage: my entire networth ↳itoshi_sae: my abibas sponsorship ↳user5: ABIBAS 🔥🔥💯💯🔛🔝🗣🗣 ↳rin.itoshi: betting off my brother ↳itoshi_sae: what
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welllll that took a lot longer than it should have buttt here you go shidou simps i had fun writing this ig sorta maybe kinda idk
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roseghoul26 · 18 hours
Note
Hello! I would like to request Cooper Howard x gn!reader (post war, because...murderous cowboy...hnnngh), where they struggle with mental health issues like depression? I've been in a really tough spot, having no energy or motivation to do anything or really any desire to take care of myself. So I was thinking, maybe the reader's mental health is declining, they're slower and sloppier when it comes to keeping up with Cooper and he's more and more frustrated. Then one day he has enough (maybe the reader is taking too long packing up) and threatens to leave them and they're just...passive, because they really don't care anymore about what happens to them. So he realises they haven't been taking care of themselves properly for a while now and then some soft moments with him? I know this is pretty dark and you can change this however you'd like, but I'm dying for some hurt/comfort with this man 🥺 It's totally cool if it's too much for you, if you decide to not write this, please just let me know, so I don't wait for it. Thank you so much, I love your Cooper fics <3
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x gn!Reader
Synopsis: You’ve been struggling lately, putting both you and your traveling companion in danger. He was bound to confront you about it eventually. Tags: Prompt Request, Not Beta Read, Gender Neutral Reader, Depression, Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Disagreements, Comfort, Lazy Day, Cuddling, Beginning Relationships Author's Note: Trigger warning for topics relating to mental health, such as depression and suicide. Please do not read if you’re not in a good mental space. Take care of yourselves. Also, everyone’s experience with depression and mental health issues differs, so I am writing this story the way I experience it. Also, this was a fun challenge to write. Like how the hell would he approach a topic like this? It’s been fun to explore his character like that, and I hope I did it justice. Thank you so much for the request! <333
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You used to be able to keep up with the Ghoul. 
Wherever he went, you followed, tearing through the Wastleland without hindrance. You watched his back, and he yours, a security that was unheard of in this world. It was a trusting friendship, bordering on something else, something that neither of you had crossed yet. You couldn't compete with over a hundred years of experience with a gun, but you were able to hold your own quite well. You were a decent shot and someone who never let anyone get the drop on you, senses always sharp. 
So when you started missing easy targets and found yourself surprised by opponents one too many times, you knew it was a matter of time before the Ghoul started asking questions and not believing the first lie that you said. The first time it had happened, you blamed it on your lack of sleep, and he seemed to buy it. And maybe you convinced yourself it was just a lack of sleep, ignoring the darkness that had begun to emerge in your mind. You just needed to rest, was what you told yourself. 
It happened again a few days later, completely missing a target in front of you. Your reactions had begun to slow down, too, unable to avoid the swing of a blade, cutting across your cheek. It was like your body gave up on wanting to move, an unbearable weariness to your muscles that you were unable to shake. Later, as you bandaged the wound on your cheek, the Ghoul confronted you, demanding to know why you were acting so sloppy. You’d merely shrugged, offering up the idea that you were sick. This time he seemed less convinced, yet he had let the matter go. 
You knew why you were acting the way you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with depression, far from it. It was something you’d dealt with your entire life, coming and going like waves. You’d go days, weeks, months and you’d be fine, but then a flip would switch. You’d lose your energy, your motivation, wanting nothing more than to just lay on the ground and never get back up. You’d stop taking care of your body. You’d lose your appetite. Your thoughts would turn dark, ideations and ideas flashing in your mind, things that you’d never tell another soul. 
For the months you’d been traveling with the Ghoul, you’d been able to keep a reign on your depression. Sure, you had your off days, but nothing like this. It was like the universe was punishing you for having such an excellent past months. 
But how could you explain this to your traveling partner? How could you explain that you didn’t have the energy to continue existing, to continue fighting? He needed you to be alert, to not have your thoughts occupied with something, that in perspective to the Wasteland around you, was trivial. 
So you kept your mouth shut, forcing yourself to appear alert and unaffected. You forced those thoughts to the back of your mind. You forced your body to move, no matter how much it screamed at you to just be still.
But it seemed that all that bottling your thoughts up did was make it worse. As the days dragged on, you stopped talking, only muttering small words whenever the Ghoul asked you a question. You’d normally spend the time traveling conversing, and the Ghoul did try to initiate a conversation with you, but no amount of questions and joking and jabs could get you to break. Eventually, he fell quiet too.
Sleeping became a challenge. You’d think with how exhausted your body felt, you’d be able to sleep easily, but the opposite was true. Hours would tick by, and you’d lie awake, getting up the next morning more exhausted than before you went to bed. Your face, already a bit gaunt from living such a difficult life, had grown even more so, the circles around your eyes darkening and your lips growing more chapped. 
You stopped eating, turning away the food he offered you. After you went a few days without eating more than a bite, he practically forced spoonfuls of food into your mouth, snapping at you the entire time. It was humiliating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to change. You just wanted to be done. 
You could tell that your demeanor was starting to annoy the hell out of the Ghoul, whose words had turned shorter and snappier. If you took too long, he’d grab you by the shoulder and drag you along, like an upset parent with their child. Your cheeks would burn every time, tears pickling your eyes, and you’d hang your head. 
There was a tension growing between you and the Ghoul, your friendship growing thin. His guard was up constantly, unable to trust you any longer to watch his back, which hurt you more than any knife or gun. Soft glances disappeared, his gaze scrutinizing when he looked at you. Light touches from him reserved for when you were at rest were no more, as you chose to keep to yourself every night. Instead of walking side-by-side, you’d linger a few feet behind him. You pretended like it was easier this way, to make him push you away, but it was tearing you apart. 
But eventually, that tension snapped. Too many close calls, too many sluggish movements, too many half-hearted excuses finally made him break. You’d just gotten up for the day, another sleepless night behind you, and you were packing up your few belongings. You must’ve been taking too long, because you heard him sigh audibly, standing in the open doorway of the room you’d sheltered in for the night. “What’s your fuckin’ issue?” He growled, arms crossed tight over his chest.
You looked up, feigning confusion. “I dunno what-”
“Bullshit,” he cut you off. He began to walk towards you, his steps methodical, threatening. “You’ve been actin’ like this for weeks, and you’ve only offered me half-assed excuses.” He was seething, and understandably so. He crouched down in front of you, rendering you unable to escape. “So, you,” he stuck a finger in your chest, barely avoiding hitting you, “are gonna tell me why. And don’t even think ‘bout lyin’, sweetheart.”
You swallowed, heart hammering in your chest at the confrontation. Words flooded your mind, a full explanation on the tip of your tongue, yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. Your mouth opened and closed, struggling, until you eventually just gave up. Sighing, you just shook your head, which pissed him off even more. 
A disbelieving laugh left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “No? You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Ya know, I’ve tried to be lenient. I bought into your fuckin’ lies that you were ‘just tired’, ‘just sick’. I tried to give ya space, to give ya time to get out of this. But you’re gonna get us both killed if ya don’t fix yourself. I can’t be distracted out there, constantly worried ‘bout you and keepin’ you alive, ‘cause it seems like that’s the last thing on your mind.”
He took a breath, steadying his rising voice. “So I’m gonna give ya one more chance to explain yourself, or else I’m leavin’ without ya.”
“Then leave.” Your response came almost immediately, your voice lacking any inflection. Even though in the back of your mind you were screaming at him not to leave, you kept an air of indifference about you, unable to make yourself care. It would be easier if he just left, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t be putting anyone else in danger, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt you felt of him worrying about you so much. And it would be so much easier to just disappear if there was no one looking for you.
He wasn’t expecting that as a response if the look on his face told you anything. His brow muscles were raised, leaning back from you in shock. But the way he was watching you, it was like he was observing you in a different light, dots beginning to connect in his mind. “You’ll die out there without me.” 
You merely shrugged your shoulders, glancing down to continue packing your belongings, no longer able to look him in the eye. He didn’t respond, simply standing up with a sigh. You didn’t look up, not even as you heard him walk away, backing towards the entrance of the room. You didn’t look up, even as you heard the surprisingly gentle click of the door as it shut. You didn’t look up, even as the tears that you’d been holding for the past weeks finally fell.
You were alone.
You thought it would make you feel better like there would be a weight lifted off your shoulders. But everything just felt heavier, the thoughts in your mind becoming a tempest, making you physically weak. Expletives tumbled from your lips as you sagged down onto your arms, head hung. Of course, he’d fucking leave, you idiot. No one wants to deal with your moping.
A part of you wanted to chase after him, to beg him to stay, but you already felt pathetic enough. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, not at all. You were weighing him down, putting his life in danger; he said so himself. He could only deal with you for so long. You should be grateful that he didn’t leave sooner.
The sound of rustling fabric made you jump, finally looking up. The Ghoul had taken off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch he had slept on, never having left the room at all. Stunned, you watched him sit, taking his hat off in the process and setting it on the floor. He finally caught your eye then, a soft look on his face, a look you hadn’t seen in a long while. 
“I thought you left,” you whispered, sitting back upright. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, and you tried to wipe the tears that had fallen on them. 
“I ain’t leavin’ ya, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you want me to go?” You’d never shaken your head faster in your life. “Then I’m stayin’.”
“But why?”
He sighed. “‘Cause I care ‘bout you. I… Is that too hard to believe?”
It is. Unable to find words, you just shrugged again. 
Something akin to regret or remorse flashed across his face, and muttering something under his breath he reclined against the couch. He was upset, but even now you could tell it was not because of you, at least not fully. “C’mere,” he murmured, patting the couch beside him. “You look like you’re gonna fuckin’ bolt at any second.”
Taking a steadying breath, you complied, albeit with some difficulty, your legs barely wanting to function. His gaze didn’t leave you once, as much as you wished it would, making you want to collapse in on yourself. The walk to the couch felt like it was miles long, but you eventually made your way over to it and him. 
He rolled his eyes when you just stood there in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. “Sit down, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ bite.” In another situation, you knew he’d add some comment like unless ya want me to, but he bit his tongue. The couch groaned as you sat next to the Ghoul, keeping a foot between your bodies. “Talk to me,” he commanded, yet his voice was gentle. “What the hell’s goin’ on?”
You picked at the skin around your nails, no doubt drawing blood. “I’m… I’m not quite sure how to explain it,” you responded, and you expected your words to upset the man even more. But he nodded his head slowly, an almost understanding look on his face. “I’m just… done."
“Done with… what? Bein’ out on the road?” You shook your head. “Travellin’ with me?” You shook your head again, this time more vehemently. “Done with what?” You knew that he knew the answer to his question, but he wanted you to say it.
“I’m done with… with existing. I just can’t bring myself to care anymore. I’m just so tired of it all.” You sagged back against the couch like speaking took a toll on your body. “I’m so tired.”
He didn’t respond for a while, mulling over your words. “That… that explains a lot,” he chuckled humourlessly. “Your mind won’t just leave ya the hell alone, will it? It's like all your mind can focus on are these terrible fuckin’ things, no matter what ya do. And it just weighs on ya, like a million pounds, getting worse with every passin’ day until you just wanna… give up.”
He explained it perfectly, and you cocked your head to the side, a bit confused about how he was able to do so. “I ain’t a stranger to what you’re goin’ through. We’re well fuckin’ acquainted, to say the least. So I shoulda recognized it sooner with ya.” 
He paused, sighing. “Wanna know somethin’?” You nodded. “I was too busy thinkin’ ‘bout what I did to upset ya that I didn’t bother to think of any other possible reason as to why you’re actin’ the way you are. But once I realized it wasn’t my fault, not entirely, instead of bein’ there for ya, I was an ass. I thought, because I’m a damn idiot, that you were just mopin’ around for the hell of it, putting us both in danger simply ‘cause you were tired or some shit. Not once did I stop to think why. And I apologize.”
“You don’t gotta-” He cut you off with a pointed look. “I… I accept your apology, then.”
He nodded slowly, content. “I’d like to help ya, sweetheart. I know nothin’ I say or do is gonna make it go away like that… but I’d like to try. Whatever ya need from me, and you’ve got it.”
“I’m not sure what I need exactly,” you admitted quietly.
“When ya figure it out, will ya let me know?” You nodded.
“Just… be patient. As difficult as that is for you.” You hadn’t meant for the jab to come out, but you weren’t taking it back. Especially when a loud laugh left the Ghoul, making a smile of your own appear on your face. It was faint, yet it was there.
An almost starstruck expression appeared on his face, his laughter dying out. “I missed seein’ ya smile,” he murmured as if it was a subconscious thought.
You ducked your head, making him laugh again. “As for bein’ patient, well, I can be that, if that’s what ya need.”
“It’ll take some time,” you cautioned again, indirectly giving him a chance to back out of this. 
“Time ain’t an issue. I’ll wait as long as it fuckin’ takes.”
“You mean it?” Your voice was so soft, barely audible to either of you. 
You watched as one of his gloved hands inched towards you, palm upturned. Tentatively, you placed your in his, eyes growing wide when he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “I swear,” he uttered, sealing the promise with another press of his lips.
As you returned your tingling hand to your lap, his eyes scanned over your face, a furrow appearing between his brow. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten somethin’? Somethin’ that I didn’t force ya to eat,” he added when you opened your mouth to respond. 
Your silence said enough, and he leaned down to his bag, which he had placed beside the couch when he sat. After a few moments of rustling through, he handed you a small bag of what appeared to be jerky, as well as a small canteen of water. “It ain’ human,” he added when you eyed the bag suspiciously before taking it.
The jerky was salty and tough when you took a bite, not quite wanting to, but unable to not eat under his gaze. You ate in silence until your stomach was full and your teeth hurt from the tough material. Taking a swig of water, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, eating seemingly draining your energy more than replenishing it. Stifling a yawn, you shoved the canteen back into his hand, and you noticed he had an almost pleased look on his face. 
You were confused, though, when he stood, making his way to the entrance of the room. For a moment, those thoughts flashed in your mind that told you that he was finally leaving, that he realized how pathetic you were. But instead of doing any of those things, you watched as he simply wedged a chair under the handle of the door, like he had done before you went to bed for the night. 
“What’re you doing?”
“We takin’ the day off. Doctor’s orders.”
“But aren’t we supposed to be in Filly in a few days?”
“We’ll be fine. You are gonna spend today catchin’ up on some much-needed rest.” He stood in front of you now, a moth-eaten blanket in his hands. 
“And what are you gonna do?” You asked, and he shrugged. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Go ‘head, lie down.”
Your eyes quickly scanned the couch, and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “The couch is big enough for us both, no?”
For the second time that day, you’d stunned him with your responses. “Is… is that what ya want?”
Encouraged that he hadn’t just outrightly said no, you nodded your head, and a fond look crossed his features. He handed you the blanket before sitting once more, but instead of his back being against the cushions, he rested it against one of the armrests, not before tucking a pillow in front of it. 
Once he was situated, he opened up his arms to you, and you could’ve laughed at how uncertain he looked. Hands rested on your body when you laid down, head on his chest, laying on your stomach, and you made sure the blanket covered both your bodies as best you could. You weren’t too worried about covering all of you, though, with the sheer amount of warmth he was radiating. 
His eyes were already on you when you glanced up, a smile pulling at his lips. “Comfy?”
“Yes.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard it. 
You felt his fidget with something in his hand behind your back, but you didn’t have to wait long to find out what he was doing. You felt fingers run along your scalp, making you shudder, before combing through any hair there. “Alright?”
You sighed contently, nodding your head before letting it fall back onto his chest. He continued to run his fingers there, his other hand tracing patterns across your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. Safe from the world outside this room. Safe from the thoughts that plagued your mind. Safe from everything. 
He didn’t have to see your face to know that you were struggling to stay awake. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake.”
“Promise?”
“Ain’t fuckin’ like I’m gonna be able to get up,” he chuckled, before taking a more serious tone. “I promise.”
That was all you needed to hear before you finally let the final strings of consciousness leave your grasp. Before you lost control of all your senses, though, you felt him lean down, pressing a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart.”
You believed him.
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angstigone · 6 hours
Text
𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲) (𝟑/𝟒)
the title is a lyric from the song 'give me everything' by pitbull (feat ne-yo and afrojack)
𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘂 𝘅 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝗔𝗨)
𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 (𝟭): 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 (𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱) 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟐) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟑): '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭) 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰
(A/N): hello there, lovelies!
before going any further I'd just like to put this disclaimer that I am absolutely not responsible for any emotional damages that will come from reading this chapter and I apologize for any possible trauma unlocked.
I am sorry.
with this being said as always, I'd love to hear your opinions through reblogs and comments, as they do make me write faster and better and I am going to be tagging @ffsg0jo and @arcielee!
also last night I got hit by an extreme yearning for nanami and an idea for a regency/bridgerton au for his as well, so pls be warned and let me know whether you liked the idea (it's very 'princess and the pauper' barbie, because - according to me - that's the movie with the best prince).
have a nice day!
SUMMARY: when all your and your husband's secrets comes finally up.
You had never thought throughout your life that it’d be Satorou Gojo who would be feeling awkward being stared down by your beloved brother while you sat beside your mother and recounted to her the wonders of your new position, starting from the wondrous gardens you could wander into, any day to your heart’s content. «… you should visit us before the good season ends, Haibara» you muttered softly as both your brother and husband startled and after a meaningful look they both resulted into a merciful submission. 
WARNINGS: angst, mention of past child abuse and familial complexities, slight toxic behaviors between reader and gojo, mention and discussion of sex (not graphic) and a character suggesting that reader put on weight (although not in a mean way), geto suguru being #1 shipper of this, she/her pronouns, afab character, regency/bridgerton au.
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It felt silly how happy you now felt after the utter sadness that you had gone throughout your first day of marriage, as you lightly pushed your husband away from your gowns; he had meant to hide his face underneath while the carriage came to an halt, signaling further that Satorou’s misbehavior was done for the day.
«Enough, Satorou!» you further conveyed your displeasure although it did little as you felt your cheeks burn lightly with the strain that happiness took upon your mouth «… we have arrived! What… what would your staff say if their first sight of me, you bride, was to be defiled by your dirty hands?».
«My hands aren’t dirty» it shouldn’t surprise you, by now, that Satorou took offense also upon this comment «… and I’d say that’d be a rather… amusing and entertaining way to introduce yourself».
And just like that the scoundrel was beneath your skirts, barely kissing upon a thigh before you closed your legs swiftly and kicked lightly to his abdomen to ensure that he’d get the clear indication that such thing wouldn't be happening anytime soon. 
Not at least till you were in the safety of your bedrooms.
Since the first night of marriage, and Satorou’s desire to be soft with you, you had found yourself enjoying greatly your wifely duties; you were addicted upon them as Satorou gently slithered between your legs and kissed up and down your legs till you flustered and told him to ‘rush through it’.
“Rush?” he had questioned, almost offended, as one of his hands slightly bent a knee to the side to further expose yourself to his glacial gaze “... why would I do such a stupid thing, when I have you right where I want you?”.
Although the act, itself, was painful in part, you had grown to feel quite… satisfied and pleasured as Satorou would always ensure your own … gratification, whether it came from his own, his hands or his mouth, a devilish thing that had you definitely in less than proper situations.
Still, you didn’t wish for that to be the first impression to his own staff and underlings.
In all truth, you felt nervous: you weren’t all too sure of Satorou’s own feelings although he had made sure to show you, not just by performing his ‘husbandly’ duties, but also laying next to you comfortably in bed, tangled hands and breathy soft words whispered right in your ears.
“You are a dream, my lady”.
“My sweet, sweet darling wife”.
“You make such pretty noises, my little darling”.
«Well, I don’t think that it’d be entertaining for anybody truly but you» you huffed, forgetting how cute Satorou found it as he dismissed your annoyance with a light smirk, albeit he did raise up to sit where he was supposed to you while he asked to the carriage driver for a moment «… hey! No! Don’t stall! Or they’ll think…».
«… that I wish to spend time with my newly-wed wife?» he made it sound so simple and innocent, although you worried about your new status as his countess. 
It was a huge jump to move from a lady onto such a title and seeing the rumors that spread across town around your hasty marriage, you weren’t particularly eager to discover what it meant all too soon.
«Darling, my sweet sweet darling… what concerns you?».
And he kindly went so smooth the expression wrinkles that appeared right on your bows.
It was in such situations that you wondered whether your mother was right, about this being the time that Gojo fell for you. 
And you did as well.
«It’s just… it feels, like… a big jump to become a … countess» you admitted, as your words felt so utterly stupid «… what … what if … I do worry about what others are going to say, especially as I…».
«Why do you care?».
In another situation, you’d have thought Gojo to be utterly arrogant with his assumption, buthis tone felt genuine as if he truly couldn’t fathom why she might care for others’ opinion. 
As if such a thought didn’t occur to him, which might be in part truthful since he was never concerned with others’ opinions.
Otherwise they wouldn’t have been here to begin with.
«I…» and worst of all: you didn’t have an immediate reply for him. 
In all truth, you couldn’t even fathom why you had been nervous to begin with, and when you finally came up with it, you couldn’t help but fluster upon realizing that you cared for others’ opinions because of how it might reflect on Satorou.
«… if you can’t find a reason after being questioned, I am sure that you shouldn’t take it with such a strong consideration» Satorou deliberated as if it wasn’t obvious, grabbing her hand while his other reached for the handle of the carriage and you were the one stalling, pulling on the hand in your own.
«Please…!» you pleaded unsure «… I just… well, I do worry of… my worst behavior befalling onto you… my… my…».
«If the next word befalling your mouth is ‘husband’, I will shove my head between my thighs again to teach you a lesson».
You flustered immediately at his bold declaration as you hid your head swiftly in your hands turning away from him.
«… and please… if anything, I don’t think that anything that you do might make me worse in their eyes. Most of them have been with me since I was a young child and my sole amusement was bothering and pranking them».
The thought of a mischievous child, a small blueyed one had you almost open your mouth in awe as you felt a slight glee at the soft confession made by your husband.
«I just… it’s just… not… I never thought I’d be here».
«Me neither» Satorou admitted gently, although the tense softness in his tone implied that he wasn’t annoyed with such a result «… but I have known you for a good chunk of your life and I do know you to be lively, gentle and smart».
«You knew me as a child» you couldn’t help but slightly protest «… and you didn’t particularly like me».
«A pity and a misjudgement on my part» Gojo joked lightly, although as soon as he noticed your dampened mood he went to add more seriously «… I might not have known you that well, but I could already see that you’d become somebody insanely too good. And then you grew up to be a wonderful woman and even though it’s true - we don’t know each other very well -, I do… believe that you’d make a wonderful lady of the household».
Why did this man that you had known - truly - for so little seemed to know you better than yourself?
He seemed to know how to make you cry, long for him and comfort you.
Was it maybe meant for you to be husband and wife?
«And if you ever falter, my dear…».
Oh you perfectly knew that tone as you readied yourself for any comment.
«… don’t worry, I’ll help you through it. I won’t punish you too harshly, fear not».
And with a mischievous look that got you wondering what he entailed for ‘punishing’ you, he went to open the door and you were promptly faced with the entirety of the Gojo’s household staff. 
The maids were all prim and proper while the men had their heads lowered not meeting your eyes as Satorou brought you to the main entrance right as an elderly woman moved forward.
«It’s good for you to be back, master Gojo».
«No need for such honorifics, granny»-
It shouldn’t have surprised you that your husband could be disrespectful also to his own staff, although the woman didn’t register any annoyance nor offense while her eyes swiftly moved upon you. 
You flustered and felt your cheeks heat up as you underwent ‘the examination’.
Thankfully the older woman didn’t find you lacking. 
Nor extraordinary.
«… my lovely bride, the former young lady Haibara».
«Her ladyship» the woman bowed, although with the same reverence she reserved towards Gojo and you could only guess you had yet to earn it «… hope the journey wasn’t long. We heard of the storm and of your extra-stop».
«Why are you asking her such a thing?» Satorou complained lightly «… and I’ll have you know that the journey was dreadful and I couldn’t wait to be home. In my own bed. And not in the sopping, wet…».
«It was fine» you quieted Satorou’s monologue, and earned a slight smile from the older lady «… although as my lord husband said I am glad to be ho… to be here».
You caught yourself in the mistake as you were yet unsure whether you could call this place your own ‘home’. 
Whether it'd be disrespectful.
Either way the head of the staff didn’t comment on your faux-pas, instead breathing heavily and gesturing for the staff to start collecting your luggage as she started to speak again.
«… I have already assigned a personal maid to you, my lady. Haina is a kind girl and she shall be at your utter service. I shall fetch her after I have given you a tour of the mansion and…».
«I shall take you onto such a task» Satorou butted in as he shouldered past the older woman, much to your displeasure since you were worried you might be believed as rude for disrupting her plan. 
Instead as you turned to at least a soft ‘I am sorry’, you found a complacent smile on her face as she didn’t protest any further and Satorou brought you alongside himself.
For a tour you saw so little as you were, instead, brought into what seemed like a private alcove and as you were halfway through asking for an explanation, your husband’s lips were pressed tenderly against your own while his hands went to grab your waist. 
«Satorou!» you tried to chastise him, earning little to no reaction, as Satorou kept pressing his lips to your own,almost childishly «… we are supposed to be proper! On a tour!».
«And I am giving you a tour!» Satorou protested, almost offended and for a moment you thought that you had just been in bad faith, as he meant to show you something and just kissed you in the heat of the moment «… of all the best places to sneak away when things around the manor get boring, this way you know where to come when you little, pretty head gets all overwhelmed, alright, my darling?».
If anybody else - such as your own brother - had ever spoken to you with such a patronizing tone, you’d have immediately shut them down. 
Instead with Satorou - as if his own personality was rubbing off onto you - you couldn’t help but giggle in defeat as you went to press your own lips to his, while you felt his hand moving from your waist onto raising your dress.
In that moment, you could care less about what the staff thought of their new countess.
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«… and then raising the taxes would ensure a better and more stable situation for the spring festival».
Satorou inevitably droned out the chatter of his advisors as they went onto the current situation of the estate, since they had requested this reunion to ensure that he’d be updated about the state of his affairs.
As if  he wasn’t always updated, enough that he seemed to know everything going on.
Nothing went unnoticed in his domain, as if he had eyes behind his head.
Although right now he could care less of having everything under control as his gaze trailed after where you and Haina, your personal maid, were chatting about anything.
A blanket laid down on the gorgeous gardens of his estate as you enjoyed the slight heat of the incoming spring under the watchful gaze of Ina, his old nanny and current head of the staff.
You were wearing a pale pink dress that suited your skin tone. 
You wore your hair down as you oftentimes did whenever you wouldn’t be leaving the estate grounds and you looked honestly thriving.
Never Satorou Gojo would have believed that marriage would have suited him, but right now with the way you were eagerly explaining some game on a board to Haina, he couldn’t help but believe that there might be an exception sometimes.
«My lord?» his attention still was requested on other matters, as one of his advisors called him out. 
A grin on the man’s face as if he thought to have caught Gojo in a mistake and the white haired count retorted with one of his own.
«… did we.. did we distract you?».
On his deathbed, his father had told not to trust anybody.
Not a single advisor.
“They are just dirty little fucking parasites just waiting for the right moment to snatch up everything you built” he had told Satorou, while holding his hand, a gesture that had startled the younger boy he had been as his father hadn’t ever been that affectionate “... you can only trust family so be sure to choose attentively and…”.
“And I shall never have such a thing” Satorou had spat out as he had swiftly sent his father’s hand flying down “... I have no intention to pursue the continuation of your lineage. Our dynasty dies with me”.
«No, you didn’t» he counterattacked swiftly the advisor’s insinuation who looked at him like the cat who got the milk as he didn’t think that his count was being truthful «… what’s distracting me is the idea of you wishing to raise the taxes right by the spring festival! It’d make them all hate us even more… not to talk about the fact that it’s counterproductive to have our dearest subjects have nothing to show in a festival because we took everything away, don’t you think?».
The advisor was pale, as Satorou hadn’t only effectively fought him off but also won.
Spectacoriously so.
«… we shall, if anything, lower the taxes. On the behalf of the new countess» he commented as he knew such a move would have won many hearts and this would have gotten you definitely more at ease, as since first coming into your role your nervousness hadn’t left you, no matter his assurance and calm. 
You worried about whether you were liked enough and proper by the standards, having oftentimes sought out the governess and Haina for any help in settlements and organization, especially as your arrival had been so close to the spring festival.
You had sent Gojo away from his bed one night as he kept on distracting you with languid and soft kisses. 
“I have urgent business to attend” you had ushered him away as Satorou - the lovesick fool - let himself be dragged away.
“Isn’t your husband a matter to attend to?” he had teased you just to see the embarrassment heat you up wholly as you wore a slightly sheer pinkish nightgown that he had wished to rip from the moment that he had seen upon entering your chambers. 
He had kept his parents’ traditions of a separate bedroom, if anything to let you have the time to settle and calm although he’d often visit you and sleep in the same bed.
“... what a prudish wife I have found for myself”.
“Satorou!” you had whined as a slight doubting gaze appeared upon your face “... I shall attend to you. Just… just later”.
Oh, how he loved your bashfulness!
He had slept with you just two times, the first on the night at the tavern with your soft mewls of innocence being ripped away as he tried to hold himself back; what he had felt for you in the garden couldn’t be compared to the intensity perceived in that moment when every gentle kiss you pressed to his cheeks reeking of gratitude had him as inflamed as an heated touch.
The second time had been in the house as you had been the one to seek him out gently as he was at his desk dealing with some of the unfinished business that he had left behind to join the ball season.
“... can we… can we do it again?” your shyness had been rewarded by Satorou through a gentle surrender of his own as he let you do as you pleased with his body, cackling at your eagerness mixed with nervousness “... do you think I shall be soon with child?”.
“Oh” the memory was immediately soured by Satorou’s denial for such a thing although he hadn’t worded it properly taken by the panic at the discovery that you might want children “... I can’t… you see I…”.
You had seemed shocked and Satorou had thought this the moment when you left him, when you saw him as the crook he was and regretted the marriage, but instead your eyes had saddened not soured.
“I am sorry” you had spoken gently as your hand had caressed his arm, while Satorou thought he should have been the one to tell you so.
“Why, my love?” he aimed to seek out the further reasoning behind your mercy, as he had gently caressed your cheeks already feeling a slight dampness.
“... children are blessings and I had always hoped to give to my children a sibling as I was to Yo” you had spoken gently and earnestly and Satorou had felt a pang of pain in his chest “... either way I don’t… I don’t mind, Satorou”.
“Do you?” he had sought out confirmation “... truly?”.
And you had nodded eagerly, cuddling yourself closer to him.
“I don’t mind it being just the two of us, you know?” you had even giggled so cutely that for a moment Satorou had felt in heaven “... and in the end if you can’t have children…there isn’t much to be done”.
And it had hit Satorou that you thought he couldn’t have - biologically - children, not because he refused to spend his seed into you as he was too stubborn to go back against a binding vow murmured with hatred towards his father to spite the Gojo dynasty.
You had fallen asleep in his arms while he had stayed awake, thinking that the incoming morning he had to tell you that you had misunderstood him and he was too selfish to give you what you wished for. 
Still, he hadn’t been able to bring himself as you gently woke up in his arms, kissing the open palm of his hand and saying how happy you were with each other.
He had told himself, he’d tell you. 
Eventually.
He didn’t enjoy the thought of lying and withholding the truth, but with time passing he couldn’t help but feel like his eventual punishment would have become tenfold.
Oh avoidance.
«If the matter is closed…».
Such dark thoughts had him aching for you, as he saw that you and Haina had raised up from your spot, probably going inside for your afternoon bath since the following day you were to leave the Gojo residence to visit your family. 
He wasn’t eager to know the sensation of Haibara’s eyes stabbing him but he also could tell just how traumatic being uprooted into your new place could be and he wished for you to be close to your family, since you had one that loved you so much.
«… actually there are more… ahem… matters that require your atten…» the advisor who had tried to have him make a faux-pas spoke again, and this time Gojo didn’t withhold the subtle hatred in his gaze.
«If the matter is as stupid as the one you brought forward, I think that such things can wait for my return».
For now he was far more interested in discovering whether he’d be in time to catch you before you slipped in your bath or he’d join you directly. 
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You had never thought throughout your life that it’d be Satorou Gojo who would be feeling awkward being stared down by your beloved brother while you sat beside your mother and recounted to her the wonders of your new position, starting from the wondrous gardens you could wander into, any day to your heart’s content.
«… you should visit us before the good season ends, Haibara» you muttered softly as both your brother and husband startled and after a meaningful look they both resulted into a merciful submission. 
You’d have laughed, hadn’t it been that you had sworn to yourself that you’d behave in front of your family as you had a devious plan for Lady Murasaki.
Gojo had informed you that he’d be leaving you for a few hours as he had a few matters to attend to in the city and you had told him that such a thing didn’t bother you.
“I’ll visit some friends I have left behind” you had insisted as he was worried that you’d feel alone “... and if I do feel all too lonely, my brother will be more than happy to keep me company”.
In all truth, you wouldn’t have gone to any friends, but you’d have met the typist to have the latest pamphlet out, a clear answer to those who had doubted your marriage to count Gojo. 
You couldn’t help but pinprick of slight guilt at not only going behind Gojo’s back but also because you had yet to reveal to him your identity of Lady Murasaki but how could you though?
Throughout your career as a pamphleteer you had insulted and made fun of him and the thought of ruining your steady pace in the marriage right when it felt so blooming was heartbreaking and nerve wracking.
No, this was a secret you’d have taken to the grave.
Or so you had hoped as you rushed through the busy street of the industrial part of town, clad in a thick woolen coat to conceal your identity, to meet right in time the printer.
So taken by your worry to be on time you hadn’t noticed when a burly black haired lord had bumped right into you, lightly cursing underneath your breath while the gentleman you had clashed into giggled, clearly having heard what you had said but most importantly revealing to be none other than your husband’s partner-in-crime, Suguru Geto.
You startled, especially as a look of surprise settled on the man’s face as he recognized you.
No, no this couldn’t be happening.
You didn’t have a proper excuse for why you were on this side of the town as it’d have contrasted with your promise to meet with friends that you had told Gojo. 
What if Geto told him that he had met you? 
How could you justify yourself?
«Lady Hai… I mean countess» he curtsied to you gentlemanly, further having you in a flurry of panic as you tried to come up with a proper excuse for your presence there.
Saying that you had lost yourself would have been far too unbelievable and you had no reason or purpose to be there, unlike him who had just exited what seemed like a bawdy tavern.
«What a delightful surprise!».
«Truly» you suppressed your unease through gritted teeth «… I am in a ru…».
«I had meant to ask Satorou how you were settling» and yet the black-haired man completely ignored your necessity pushing you in place by kindly helping you up as he kept the distance at an arm’s length «… after all that mess with your brother and the duel… I had worried that you might be… well, that the marriage might be doomed from the start. Especially as Satorou seemed so nervous, I had to give him a few words of encouragement to have him still his overthinking…».
«I am indebted to you for that» you muttered attentive to keep the obvious annoyance you felt to yourself as the memory of your marriage ceremony wasn’t the brightest in your mind with you and Satorou being at each other’s back, turned and worried «… now if you could just let me throu…».
«Why in such a rush?» oh that shit-eating grin, you’d have loved to write a peculiar column onto it on your pamphlets.
Wait, you actually had and that had you slightly smirking.
«… I didn’t know that you had any business in such a place».
Oh, how easily he had caught you, still you tried for the unease not to be shown on your face, as not to further compromise your situation.
As you were halfway through giving a meek answer, you noticed that lord Geto’s attention was caught by something on the ground and as you shifted your gaze on the dirtied floor you realized that your book had fallen and all the original pamphlet drafts were now in part scattered to the ground, much to your horror. 
That just worsened when you saw the lord gentlemanly dipping down to collect the papers before you could stop him.
«Oh you must be mailing letters, aren’t …» and then you knew for sure that you had been caught «… what… what… why are these papers signed by none other than Lady Murasaki?».
You knew that there must be some kind of lie that would have gotten you out of this situation but you were in much too shock to properly react as Geto gently but sternly grabbed your arm and brought you in the first secluded pastry nearby, before he started to hiss angrily.
«You… you are lady Murasaki?».
Well, you couldn’t blame his anger, as you had oftentimes made fun of his pompous behavior at balls, although it startled what he said next.
«… does… does Satorou know about it?».
Your silence was an answer enough and Geto lightly grimaced before he started again:
«Do you… how can you keep such a secret from him?».
The way he sounded almost paternalistically had you finally snap out of your trance as you regarded him with a tight glare.
«That’s neither your own or his business!».
«Oh but it is» Ghetto seethed lowly «… do you… do you have any idea whatLlady Murasaki had done to him or me?».
You startled at the obvious accusation before again regaining your tight defense.
«None that can be brushed off easily within a few seasons» you said haughtily «… what about the ladies that you and Satorou made fun of? Or fooled for nothing but the pleasure of your own egos!».
«I’d be careful of how you speak about such matters, especially as one of those men is your husband» Geto said cuttingly and albeit you were trying not to raise anything you couldn’t help but feel a slight guilt at the reminder that you had oftentimes belittled Satorou in your tireades.
Still, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?
Satorou had an ego for days and in truth, everybody would have forgiven him for the most heinous of shit, simply because he was… Satorou Gojo.
You, yourself, found it extremely difficult to be mad at him for the way he had behaved when you were both younger and yet, here you were betraying him by posting again as lady Murasaki.
«… and you have no idea how much of the damage you have done by creating this little persona».
Oh that was enough: your ethics might be flawed but you wouldn’t have let yourself be so harshly spoken to by a scoundrel such as Suguru Geto:
«You have no idea of how little freedom we women have. And how much you men behave as our own masters. So, let me have this little freedom: to warn women of the ridiculous dangers of high society before it’s too late».
Geto seemed definitely taken aback by your spiel, although he was quick to continue your verbal sparring:
«You have little to no idea of what you have caused,Llady Murasaki» being called by your pen name had you definitely scrunching your eyebrows «… you have truly no right to write… such… heinous things!».
«And yet… are they untrue?» you held Geto’s gaze knowing that he couldn’t deny the truth, although he still huffed and finally declared.
«You have to tell Satorou».
«Not at all» Lady Murasaki was your own creation, and if you didn’t wish Satorou to know, you wouldn’t have told him.
«You do» Geto insisted as he sent a slight look your way, although not one of haughtiness or reprimand but genuine concern «… if he discovers it any other way… it’d be… it’d be bad».
«Satorou… Satorou isn’t like that».
You don’t think that your husband would have hurt you in anyway an husband might but somehow you knew that Geto’s words would be true: if Satorou discovered about this, he’d definitely… be hurt and such a thought had you… terribly guilty.
«… what… it’ll hurt to know, now».
«And it won’t lessen the pain with time, if you don’t tell him» Geto promptly insisted «… I’ll give you a month then you have to tell him, understood?»
You couldn’t help but be utterly offended at Geto’s audacity to tell you what to do, as he wasn’t your father nor your husband and although he was looking out for a friend, he had also put his nose in business that didn’t concern him.
Still, it also hit you the finality with which Geto spoke: he wasn’t bluffing, he’d have told Gojo.
The thought terrified you, although deep down you felt a sort of contentment at finally having a way to liberate yourself from the heavy weight of your second identity, especially before it became all too troublesome.
«I… I’ll tell him» you promised your voice slightly wavering «… but after the spring festival».
«I’ll agree to that» Geto muttered much more calmly «… but first I… can I ask you what got you to start writing such things? I… I have known you and your brother for a bit and I didn’t…».
«… didn’t think I was capable of writing such things?» you shot back slightly smiling sadly «… well I… in all truth, I think that I did it because you didn’t think myself capable of doing such things. I… you always thought me to be some naive little child and it was also… my way of regaining power over a life on which I didn’t have control».
«But… but you are a countess now!» Geto harshly protested, although there was a bit of disbelief as if he couldn’t believe that she had felt this way and instead of angering you, you felt  a bit pacified by his comment.
«Don’t… don’t… mistake my words… I am happy with… Satorou… but… but I never had a choice in what I wanted. Nor my life, nor my debut and especially not my marriage. I am lucky that it worked out, but for all those ladies who are too naive for the world and stuck in horrible matches?» you couldn’t help but smile a bit awkwardly as you felt silly at revealing such things «… well, I wished to simply warn them».
The silence that fell between you and Geto wasn’t uncomfortable, if anything there was a slight exchange of thoughts that couldn’t be said out loud.
«And if anything… my last pamphlet was about how happy the newest countess had been with her love match. Is it the time that Gojo Satorou settles?» you joked feigning a wondrous surprise as Geto laughed lowly.
«Ever think that you’ll put a good word for me?» he asked gently albeit a bit humorously.
«Oh don’t even think about it!».
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Satorou had always been peculiarly nosy with the things of others, and his governess had always insisted that such a thing would have him in trouble.
He couldn’t certainly expect that such a thing would happen in the worst time possible.
The spring festival had been a success, much to your obvious comfort as you smiled happily accepting the townspeople flowers and compliments while Satorou stood by your side gently, letting you for once shine as he hadn’t ever realized till this moment just how little you tended to make yourself feel for others. 
He wouldn’t have accepted such a thing from now, he had thought upon realizing such a fact.
You were flustered and sweet as you came back home in the carriage, your hands threaded together as you recounted every little detail possible, as if he hadn’t been right there by your side. It made him happy that you were as well and somehow glad for this marriage of convenience, as for the first time he felt like it might work. 
That it might still give him a family although on his happiness a slight concern appeared as he worried not only for the lie he had given to you but also that - as always - his apparent happiness might be destroyed by a shadow of the past.
He dreaded that he had yet to tell you the truth about why he couldn’t have children and although he had grown to enjoy your time spent together, he hadn’t yet been able to be vulnerable to you, shooting down any inquiry of your own towards his family. 
You didn’t seem to take it to heart but for how long would this go before you took offense and realized that your husband was far too closed off and impenetrable?
As for you, you seemed quite the open book, hence he was startled upon stumbling on your desk in something that wasn’t decidedly your usual correspondence.
He hadn’t meant, in all truth, to snoop around, instead searching for a document that he had left in your room the previous night as he had spent - as always, the night with you - any semblance of duty being forgotten upon the sight of your rosy cheeks at the glass of wine that you had taken at dinner as you boldly commanded him around having fallen into your role as a countess.
He had startled when after the act, you had gently brought him close to you and shyly told him that you’d never hurt him.
“Not on purpose, you must know” and you had been close to saying anything that had Gojo wandering but you hadn’t added anything, snuggling in his naked chest instead.
As he looked around for the document, he had noticed it being laid upon your desk, probably from the place where he had stuck it, as you were far more orderly than him but his eyes were taken aback when he read your elegant calligraphy.
“It is without a doubt that the match between the count and countess has proved to be quite the talk of the season. Especially bad mouth if I may say. Are people of the ton so jealous that they haven’t been ensnared by a pair of pretty eyes and a smart mouth?
Enough poison towards sweet and naive lady Haibara, she must know no less…”.
He had known that tone perfectly, as it had been the one of the lady that had tormented him thoroughly: Lady Murasaki, the court gossiper and his harshest enemy, who turned out to be none other than his own wife.
He startled at the realization, releasing at once the paper and although he knew that it was a terrible idea he snooped around his wife’s room till he found a box that revealed a small treasure: the original drafts of the pamphlet further pointing out one single solution: that his wife was none other than lady Murasaki.
“Is this the season that count Gojo delights us by putting himself off the market? The ton could use a bit of less gaudiness in its seasons!”.
“Whenever lord Geto and count Gojo are together, the recipe for disaster has already started”.
“It is certainly without a doubt that if you can train a horse to stand on its lower legs, you can also train count Gojo to become a proper husband”.
Your satyre wasn’t as stinging as some of the comments that Gojo had ever received form his own parents or preceptors and had it been anybody but you, he’d have laughed at the ridiculous way in which you had described. 
Still, it was you… his own wife who had written such staggering comments and it had him definitely feeling a bit crushed…
… betrayed.
Why… why had you written such things?
And why had you agreed to marry him? 
Certainly to save your brother, but you had also agreed upon his help, which had thrown the two of you in this mess.
His head was spinning and it didn’t happen often for Satorou Gojo to feel this way.
He wished to confront you, to speak directly with you but at the same time, the thought that you had… you thought of him this way had him further retreating into himself. 
After all, hadn’t his father said that he shouldn’t have trusted anybody? 
He should have known that applied to family as well, as his own dreams of domesticity were promptly disrupted.
Maybe respecting his vow would be easier than he thought.
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You couldn’t help but lightly grimace as Haina adjusted the dress upon you since the slight happiness of your marriage had you a bit chubbier on your stomach. 
Not that you minded as the recent worries definitely had you starving, since Gojo had become quite distant to you in the latest period, blaming it onto incoming matters, which you understood. 
He was count and you were countess, but the way he didn’t let you in anymore as he had at the start of your marriage was almost… painful.
And it didn’t help you with the thought of telling him about the fact that you were lady Murasaki. 
The spring festival had passed and although Geto had accepted to give you a further day you didn’t know how to breach the topic when your husband seemed so distant. 
Had he… had he grown bored with you, already?
«My lady, not that… but did you put on some weight?» albeit enjoying Haina’s gentle and quiet nature, she could be quite nosy and a tad brash «… I merely ask because… well, it’s been a few months since your… your marriage and it wouldn’t be… it wouldn’t be unsightly for you to be with child». 
Immediately your frown deepened and Haina noticed that she had spoken wrongly.
«Not that… not that you are ugly or… anything, her ladyship! You are as pretty as the day he brought you home and if anything men just simply enjoy a bit more to hold…».
«We can’t have children» you spat out although you weren’t sure whether Gojo would have allowed you to tell anybody else «… I… the lord can’t give me children. That’s why I frowned not at your words, Haina. Although thank you for comforting me».
Haina seemed taken aback and for a moment you worried whether she’d have tried to awkwardly comfort you again, before a slight fluster filled her face.
«… who… who told you such a thing, my lady?».
You startled at her slight noisiness and the way she seemed to doubt your words.
«The count, of course».
«Well, then I… mean… it is a surprise I…».
The two of you were startled when a door slammed open revealing Mrs. Kinawa, the governess who had greeted you upon your arrival with Gojo, and who oftentimes came to you as a mother duck with a wandering duckling afraid of dipping its toes in the water.
«What’s this nonsense I am hearing?» although you enjoyed her presence, you felt like oftentimes this woman would be brusque - and no differently from Haina quite nosy. 
You regarded her with a slight embarrassment as she went on while Haina was quick to try to finish your dressing if anything to avoid the burden of a conversation that was changing.
«… the count doesn’t have a problem in that department. I have been with him since he was a child and I’d have known if any terrible sickness had struck him down. Gods, if anything I’d have cheered».
«But…!» you went to protest lightly, not believing that Gojo would lie to you about such a matter; and why would he «… that’s what he told me! And I… I don’t mean to well, I don’t mean to bother you Mrs. Kinawa or undermine you but…».
«Has he inserted himself inside of you girl?» you startled at the crass and bold words of the older woman, regarding her with a slight fear while Haina pretended not to have heard you as she dashed with the dirtied towels out of the room although you wouldn’t have been surprised if you caught her snooping around the door «… do tell me, this way we can assure ourselves that that scoundrel at least does his marital duties».
«He … has» you felt a slight fluster in admitting, especially as Gojo was your first man. And the sole one, probably «… it has… happened a few times… but I… maybe it isn’t… it isn’t that he can’t… rise to the occasion».
«As long as his seed is spent on you, darling girl, it’ll do just fine» again those startling words although this time it was for a very different reason: Gojo… he… he didn’t spill himself into you. 
He’d be crying about how close he was and immediately push himself away from you. 
You hadn’t thought anything of the pearly white liquid that oftentimes stained his hands and the sheets, thinking that maybe he thought it far impure for his wife as you had always been told - in the rudimental anatomy lessons you had been given- that you’d be with child the moment that he … inserted himself into you.
«… girl, don’t tell me that you don’t know how the act is done. You have been married for a few good months!».
«I… I… back at home I… I wasn’t taught about it, I just… well, I do know the… bases but… something… does he… does he need to spend himself into… me for me to bear a child?» because if that was what was needed it now was obvious why you weren’t with child, yet. 
And that Gojo had lied to you.
You felt your head heavy with all these thoughts as you tried to be rational, thinking that maybe he hadn’t meant to or there must be a further medical explanation that neither you nor Mrs. Kinawa could reach and the best way was to confront him, which you did once the dressing was finished and the governess informed you further about the nature of sex, as you felt extremely awkward and stupid. for having believed Gojo.
If he had lied to you, you couldn’t help but feel… further betrayed. He had known… your lack of expertise and taken advantage of it. 
Still, for what reason? 
Had he told you that he didn’t wish for children - which you didn’t believe at all - you’d have maybe hidden your desire for them. 
Still, it should have been your choice together, not his own solely.
By the time you exited your rooms you were startled with the rage you felt, which hadn’t inhabited your body for a long time since being married to Satorou, startling him as you opened the door to his studio, uncaring that he didn’t wish to be disturbed.
«What’s the matter?» he asked, concern lacing his beautiful eyes and for a moment you held hesitation for your words: you had your own secrets and he had his, it was only right that you felt like a hypocrite for your indignation, although such a situation couldn’t go on.
If he told you about why he didn’t wish for children with you, you’d have told him about lady Murasaki.
«I have heard… an interesting conversation about… well, about the fact that you have lied to me about your inability to…» you flustered although the rage in your body shook you lightly with emboldened confidence «… conceive».
He seemed startled like a child caught in the act and it all crumbled onto you: for the entire road to his studio, you had thought that this had to be a mistake in having understood him on your part. 
That he hadn’t lied to you and that maybe things could be fixed but faced with his obvious lie, you felt your breath stall and your heart stammer.
«You… you lied to me».
«Close the door» he was quick to say, instead of coming close to you and consoling you although you immediately noticed that his hand had gripped onto the desk tightly and his body seemed shaken by a tension as well. 
Still, he held nothing of his usual tenderness. 
Was it possible that his entire change of demeanor had been because of worrying he’d be caught in his lie?
You complied with his order although the moment that the door was closed you ushered closer to him with an angered tone:
«Why… why did you lie to me?!» you asked as he kept on being dejected, although in his eyes there was something akin to an utter sadness.
«I don’t think that you should be asking honesty out of me when you were the first one that lied» he promptly shot back and before you had the time to process, he went onto adding «… Lady Murasaki».
For the second time in a day you felt the earth beneath your feet unsteady as you immediately thought who might have told him; you doubted that Geto would have lied to you, although Gojo was his best friend. He was an honorable lord and it’d have just hurt Gojo further to discover the news from him and not you. As he was right now.
This also explained his mood of the past few weeks as everything settled in place.
  «I’d… I’d have told you» it did little to ease the guilt in her chest, as he regarded her like a liar «… would you?».
«Would you have really told me that you are the woman behind the pen that made fun of me and my friend?» he went on, shooting back poisonously as you felt like you couldn’t blame him fully for the obvious distaste he had for your alter ego, although you were stalled from what he said next «… was this… a way for you to get better intel around me and make me a further fool than I already am?».
You startled at his booming tone and especially accusation although you were quick to shoot back.
«Do you think I had a choice in it?» you counterattacked, as your fists came to your side while Gojo still stayed behind the desk, a physical and emotional barrier «… I… I… I was forced into this, as much as you!».
«And you thought to make a horrible situation into a better one, didn’t you».
You couldn’t… truly blame Gojo for his mistrust, especially after the talk with Geto and the knowledge that Satorou wasn’t as… awful as you had pictured him.
He had started to open up with you about himself and you had thought that love might blossom. Instead, here you were screaming at each other because of the lies you held.
«… and about the children, I… that’s why I didn’t want to marry you! I swore on my father’s deathbed that his wretched legacy of lies, loveless relationships and abuse would end with me. I’d never take a wife nor bear a child and I intend to do so, because as I have noticed such things only bring an unhappy life».
Although you had no right to feel hurt at Satorou’s words, you still felt it.
You had lied to him and at least withheld the truth and he had done so as well, although his own crime came with the heavy weight of a loveless family and hadn’t you been feeling so angry, hurt and sad, you’d have happily clutched into your arms, comforting him for the child he could have never been.
«Yet, I can’t go back on my vow, at least to you. So, I shall not share your bed from now on».
You were startled at Satorou’s decision that nothing could ever change. 
No chance of resolving this among you anymore.
«No…» you were simply able to whine as you tried to get past the desk to throw your arms at him and plead «… Satorou, I… I am sorry for not having told you…».
«Are you sorry for your words, though?».
You were fixed with a gaze of ice promptly and it had you shivering out of the coldness of it.
You worried that it might freeze you on the spot.
«… because I don’t think that I… I don’t think that I can ever see you as more than her. You.. you might be my wife in name but you… we are nothing to each other».
And you were too struck to speak again as you slightly crouched down while Satorou passed by you as if he hadn’t noticed your obvious distress. 
As if he couldn’t care less, which you thought must be the truth.
You had lost your husband, in the span of a few moments and although you hadn’t wanted him in the first place, you wept as if you had lost everything.
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credits for dividers: @/saradika-graphics
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mellybouboulove · 2 days
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My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️
Chapter 3
Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 4
Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs
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Chapter 3
The morning after, I woke up on the couch covered with a blanket. The light was shining through the blinds and the birds were singing, that was my first night of real sleep since a week. Lana who was sleeping on my lap started meowing to make me feed her. I finally got the energy to open my eyes and stand up to give food to my cat. Suddenly I looked around realizing she wasn't here anymore.
A wave of emptiness submerged me. My house is still a mess because I was still too lazy to do anything about it. I took a shower, my head full of questions : Why did she leave without telling anything? Did she even care at all? Am I just another stupid drug addict to her? I guess I'll never know. Anyway, it's not my problem anymore. I have more important things to think about like where to find my opiates. Right now I'm feeling better but I know I couldn't handle another day sober.
I put on another pyjama after getting out of the shower when I heard the door opening. I quickly left the bathroom and ran to the leaving room full of joy. Here she was ; she had 2 bags of groceries in her hands and a big backpack; could this be what I was thinking about ? No, she’s too busy to do this. She probably came to say goodbye.
-Ok so, I saw that the fridge was empty, I bought you eggs, pastas… She started to enumerate what she bought for me and explained that she wanted to stay with me for the weekend. I was right, she was about to stay here for a while. -Thank you so much I don't know what to say Ellie that’s so kind of you, how much do I own you? And why do you want to stay here? I’m not at my best you know.. -Nothing, she said, it’s my pleasure if I can help you. I’m gonna stay here for the week-end and yeah I saw that you’re not at your best. I don’t want to be a passive watcher of your fall, that's also why I want to stay with you.
I was so happy to hear this, I don't know if she would be able to do anything to help me heal but her attention was already enough to make me feel better. She installed  her clothes then we talked about my situation while eating. I explained to her how I was feeling about what happened.
-I'm gonna give you some meds. If I see that you’re about to vomit or you’re shaking or about to faint I’ll give you something. If you’re feeling bad and start thinking too much about it just talk to me. I listened carefully to her instructions and she continued.  -Do you think you'd be able to clean your place with me?
All alone I could never clean all that, I couldn’t even find the motivation to eat but now she’s here I dont know why but it seems effortless. She got up, turned on MTV and dragged me by the arm to the kitchen. I did the dishes as she was throwing out my spoiled groceries that were still in my fridge and placed the new ones she just bought. Then we picked up all the clothes that were around my house then she did a machine while vacuuming and cleaning the dust everywhere. We changed my bedsheets, cleaned the bathroom and even gave a bath to Lana. 
Later, we both felt hungry so we decided to bake pancakes. It was really fun, though we first argued on the measurements of the sugar, she gave up and let me add an extra amount of sugar to make them sweet enough. She was eating the leftovers of dough stuck in the spoons and bowls and as she wanted to give me a taste, she unintentionally put some dough on my face which led to a little -very cliché romcom like- fight of trying to put dough on the other’s face. We were running around the kitchen aisle when she finally caught me and we started to calm down. She wiped the dough I had on my cheeks and forehead with her thumb then we went back to baking. The dough was ready, it was time to bake them on the pan. She was making them flip in the air like a pro which I strangely found very attractive of her. She tried teaching me but I made the pancake fall and the dough that was not cooked yet spilled everywhere. She decided to not let me have control of the pan again for the rest of the recipe and I, instead, took charge of setting the table and doing the dishes we just dirtied. 
We enjoyed our pancakes in front of SpongeBob Squarepants. 
-You were right, the more the sugar, the better. She said.  -Told ya..  -Are you feeling tired or do you wanna go out now ? -No I’m feeling good, what do you have in mind? In reality my head was hurting but I needed to stay occupied.  -I was thinking we could go to the fair maybe? -Ohh yes sounds good for me, let me get ready first.
I took another shower after sweating like a pig with all this cleaning, I got dressed in a skirt, a tight top and my platform boots, put some makeup on then did my hair. In the meantime, Ellie took a shower and got ready too. We got into her car on the way to the fair. The smell of the popcorn, cotton candy and churros filled my nostrils, the sky was dark, the stars and lights from the attractions were lighting us. We decided to go for a ride on the big wheel, we sat next to each other, her arm behind my neck, as we enjoyed the beautiful view from the top. I spotted a thrilling roller coaster. I begged Ellie to go for a ride with me until I had to drag her by her hand. We had a lot of fun, I felt like a kid. 
Then, she decided to play a shooting game that could earn us a big teddy bear. After 3 shots, she finally managed to get the target; we were handed a big green dinosaur plushie. I felt so excited, it kinda looked like a date. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, violently turning me around; I was a little shaken up and turned with furrowed eyebrows to see the person who was assaulting me when I ended up face to face with Emily. My heartbeat immediately increased, my throat felt as tight as a bow. 
-How dare you step foot at any party, how dare you pretend like nothing happened ? You’re such a pathetic selfish bitch. Do you ever even think about what you did and how much it impacted me ? Going on cute little dates with your stupid girlfriend while Jonathan is dying at the hospital ?? How can you even handle looking at yourself in the mirror? 
I was left speechless, tears started to fill my eyes, my hands were shaky. She was right; I’m so selfish. I’m thinking about this day on repeat all day long but I didn’t even really try to check up on them. After my treatment started to make me feel crazy, I couldn’t focus on anything else than drugs. I guess it was easier than facing my responsibilities and the horrible consequences my actions had on my friends’ lives. I was just looking for something to focus on other than this. Emily has lost her scholarship after not being able to stay in the soccer team due to her injuries. Jonathan was still in a coma, his parents are visiting and praying for him everyday. I’ve been the luckiest out of us three yet I can only think about MY problems, MY addiction, MY guilt. 
After what felt like forever of just standing there, Ellie took me apart in a more quiet area. She handed me a glass of water to try to calm me down. She pulled me into a hug and I let myself cry into her arms. We agreed it was time to go back home. Yet again we were driving to my house, making ourselves comfy on the couch while she reassured and took care of me. The day after we spent a while talking about everything and I understood focusing on drugs was selfish, I need to take action and try to fix what I can; Ellie said she’ll help me with everything and will stay with me all along but once the weekend was over, I quickly came back to reality.
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socialfakes · 2 days
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the devils in the details- luke hughes
chapter 4; part 2: passion and progress
nhl x platonic!fem!reader
eventual luke hughes x fem!reader
the masterlist
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Liked by yourinstagram, jackhughes, bboeser and 312,116 others
lhughes_06 | going from umich to the nhl has been an incredibly crazy journey but i couldn’t have done it without the constant love and support from my family and best friend ❤   tagged: yourinstagram, elblue6, jackhughes, _quinnhughes
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yourinstagram cutest and most precious human alive ❤  | lhughes_06 so you?  | yourinstagram what? no 😊
user13 second pic 😍🤤
jackhughes happy to see you succeeding, brother 😊
user06 so so cute 😊
user12 so precious 🥰
juliasmith so cute 😏❤  | jackhughes 🤨🤨
user07 how are you the cutest human being to ever exist? 😍  | lhughes_06 genetics I guess ☺
_quinnhughes nothing makes me happier than seeing you achieving your goals 😊
user17 why is jack’s girlfriend commenting and calling luke cute?  | user04 not his girlfriend anymore but i think she may be luke’s friend still 🤔  | lhughes_06 no
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yourinstagram | there really is nothing quite as fun as being a hockey girlfriend. getting to wear pretty jackets and scarves. holding hot chocolate while you watch your man play. when they look up at you in the stands after they’ve scored a goal. cheering them on. being there for every game, home or away. waiting and shivering for them to get out of the locker room after the game. the way their hands smell awful because of the gloves, but you know it’s kinda sexy too. going back home and putting on one of their jerseys and nothing else. and letting them warm you up after you’ve been cold for three periods 😉❤
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user06 well the dude is wearing red so either she’s back with nico, dating jack, or luke’s her new man 🤔  | yourinstagram one of those things is correct 👍🏻  | user08 or she’s dating another hockey player 🧐
jackhughes ❤
nicohischier ❤
jesperbratt ❤
bboeser ❤
_quinnhughes 💕
colecaufield ❤❤
lhughes_06 ❤
user12 okay the boys are doing the heart thing again like they did when they tried to trick us the first time 😂
tdemko30 hello ❤  | yourinstagram hello my dear 💕
trevorzegras ❤❤
user11 guys it’s totally 100% luke. i have a feeling and i am never wrong 👀
elblue6 love this 😊
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taglist: @worldlxvlys @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @callsignwidow
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brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 days
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vanvan bans a man
i had so much fun with that title. you know what else is fun? the jealous vanta kick i’m on atm. i’ve got another possessive vanta fic in the works and really fighting the urge to post jealous krisis (polykrisis even⁉️)
tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, protective vanta, reader has a shitty ex-boyfriend, jealousy, vanta calls you "mine" and other subtle possessive dialogue, unspecified what your ex has done in the past, the boys are fightinggggggg
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Unfortunately, a vibrating phone is what wakes you up today. Which is really quite a bummer; you’re used to waking up on your own time in Vanta’s arms, or when he’s the first to rise and you can feel the mattress shift as he gets up.
The phone vibrates again, and you’re inclined to shut your eyes tight and let the text go unanswered, at least until you wake up proper. At the third buzz your mind connects the dots. It’s a call.
Your closed eyes sting as you rub them, then grab the phone with the other hand. The taste of sleepy breath cracks along your tongue as you mumble, “Hello?”
On the other end, you can hear shuffling and slinking, some ambient picture that you don’t have the sense to imagine right now. “Oh, you picked up.”
Your blood runs cold.
Oh, you recognize that voice. You recognize it damn well, no matter how hard you wished you wouldn’t hear it again. You told your ex in no uncertain terms to never contact you again last time you saw his face. He was lucky you couldn’t muster up the courage to curse him out as you broke it off.
Yet here you are, laying in bed at a weak hour. The screen, even in dark mode, singes your sights as you read the current time: 1:19 AM on a weekend night.
“Hey, Reader,” your ex continues, as if he didn’t know his voice was knives under your skin, needling you until something cracked open. “How’s it going?”
“Why are you calling me?” You ask faintly.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he says.
You blink, the sleep in your eyes making way for shock. As it subsided, you could feel it growing into a nasty pool of anxiety in your throat. The sheets around you crinkle and shuffle as you repeat, “Why?”
“I dunno, sometimes I just wonder what you’re up to,” your ex drawls. He speaks like a long smoke, cigarette ash dusting his way-too-carefree tongue. “But if you really want to know, I got something to tell you.”
No, no, no. You know where this is going. A thousand rejections rumble up, but your lips are shut, stapled in place by your nerves. The world around you keeps moving while you’re frozen.
“I guess I should continue?” He chuckles for a moment. Smarmy. Incorrigible. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, more than usual. That means there’s something there, right? And I’m not ready to let go of it yet.”
You hear your name but this feels like a trap.
“We should try again,” you ex suggests. You can hear the smile in his voice, the way one corner of his lip curls before the other and the confident eyes. That was charming—until you got used to seeing the damn smirk whenever you apologized for something he should’ve owned up to himself. He’s a master at getting what he wants while casting you off to the side.
You hear your name being called again as you get lost in your haze. “Reader,” Vanta murmurs. He turns to you, looping his sleepy hands around your waist. “Who’re you calling? Tell them I said hello.”
The other line shuffles for a moment. “You’re still with him?”
“Are they talking about me?” Vanta yawns. “Hello.”
Great. Now you’re stuck between two men that care for you: the one that broke your heart time and time again, and a tired tyrant spooning you as he wakes up. At least Vanta’s gentle grasp is grounding you while you can feel your thoughts spiral.
The ex hesitates. “I didn’t think he’d last long,” he says aloud.
“Hey,” Vanta sets his chin on your shoulder. He pouts, ready to whine, but then he glances at the phone screen and the contact name. “Wait, is that…?”
“So you must be the boyfriend.”
“Yeah, this is he. Give me the phone, Reader.”
Passing it off feels like a burden.
Vanta rolls onto his back, but keeps an arm by your waist. You place your hand on his, hoping that the veins and knuckles soothe you as you rub them.
Ex-Boyfriend starts. “Well, I don’t—“
“What the hell is your problem calling at ass o’clock in the morning to harass Reader,” Current Boyfriend snaps. A switch flipped. Usually when he's groggy, his low voice is soothing, but now the rumble of interrupted rest makes his voice growl, dangerous and menacing. "Should I even ask why you thought this was a good idea? The fuck did you think was going to happen? If Reader said you're done, then you're done. You're cooked. Golden brown, deep-fried, burnt to a crisp, cooked. You’re done."
"I don't need your permission to talk to Reader."
"L-O-L? Yes, you do?" Vanta says, so baffled his jaw drops. "If you're going to hit on my partner, I have a right to tell you to eat shit. Not to mention how weird you were in the past, and how weird you are now. Like, if you really cared for Reader you'd delete this number and go on with your life instead of calling like a creep at one in the morning!"
"Fuck off, it was important."
"You fuck off! What's important is that you leave Reader the hell alone.” Vanta practically spits as he hisses at the man on the line, even though his volume is barely below his usual speaking voice. Underneath your grasp, his hand tightens around your waist. The seam of your shirt curls as he pulls you close. “You try that shit again and I’ll tear you apart. Reader’s mine, not yours. Got it?”
He doesn’t even wait for the ex to respond before continuing. “Glad to hear it. Goodnight.” Vanta hangs up without a second thought. You watch the phone’s light illuminate his face as the screen returns to normal, casting a pale glow around his nose and his furrowed brows. “Bitch,” he adds, still frowning at the screen.
Purple eyes glance at you. At the contact, he sighs, placing your phone down so he can wrap both of his arms around you properly. He rests his hand along the back of your neck, thumbing along the soft skin and setting his forehead along yours, eyes now downcast.
“Sorry,” he says, far gentler than when he was on the phone. “I wish you didn’t have to hear any of that.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s just the way that he was talking about you, and your history with him was pissing me off. I just couldn’t hold back. I’m—“
“Thank you,” you choke out.
“—Really sorry,” Vanta says at the same time. “Wait, huh?”
But you don’t even respond. Instead you bury yourself into your partner’s chest, trying to control your breathing. You’re overwhelmed with anxiousness but at least Vanta’s shirt smells like him.
His palm goes from your neck down to your back, rubbing circles as you try to calm yourself. Vanta mumbles. It’s muffled through his shirt and arms around you, but you’d assume it’s consoling. His throat hums and vibrates along your temple in soothing rhythms as he speaks.
Now that the emotional overload is dwindling, your grip tightens around him like you’re holding a stress ball. You murmur. “I really didn’t want to talk to him.”
Vanta’s heart breaks at that admission. You feel him readjust his position and hear the telltale pulse of a kiss at the top of your head. “You don’t have to,” he says. “He’s not worth it.
“Makes me sick thinking that some people are so entitled that they can just hurt you and act like nothing happened,” Vanta continues. “You deserve to be treated like royalty, and you deserve better than him. Screw him.”
Your boyfriend pats your back as you recompose yourself. You bitterly cast a glance at the phone, still resting face-down from the call earlier. “I’m sorry you had to take care of it.”
“Don’t feel bad. That’s the bare minimum.” He kisses you again on your forehead. “You just rest, it’s late for you.”
“It’s late for you, too, Vanta.”
“I’ll manage.” He grins. “Gotta protect my partner somehow.”
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi
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nehime · 6 hours
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❝𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀❞
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summary : 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
tags: 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ; 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭
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“Shh, (y/n) it’s okay, you’ll be fine”
Will you? 2 months, it’s been 2 months since you’ve been hearing this voice in the back of your mind. It’s like it’s haunting you. It’s like a gospel you have to repeat everyday. “Am i really fine? Without-“
Yes you are. You have to be. You have to be strong and healthy for the sake of-
Every night you cry yourself to sleep, looking at the empty side of your bed with teary eyes. Eyes red and swollen every morning.
“No no! You’re not right! You can’t leave me!”
2 months since you started crying nonstop, why? What- No, who is so important to you for crying every night, every morning? Hugging your pillow as if it was-
-Him
Nanami Kento. The love of your life that swore he’ll never leave you, never let you alone in this cruel world. You wanted to end it all. Is this what lovesick people felt? Is this what people who’s crazy in love feel after their love leaves them?
No he’s not a bad person, even if it was his last breath, his mind was only you, you, you and you. Even though he’s dying, all his worries are about you, you and you. You should stay alive for him. That’s what he said.
You were out here, no one knows where. You followed Nanami’s location. It’s past 4 in the middle of the night. Speeding your car up as you drove past the trees and buildings, looking over to the signal if you’re getting closer.
As you followed his location, it took you to an empty road. You parked the vehicle as you ran up the mountain, looking for any signs of him. You were in the middle of the woods, hearing bears growling, wolves howling. You’re scared to death, but you’re not dying until you find him.
It started to rain, storms were pouring heavily. You flinched when a huge tree fell down because of the storm. ‘No no no, stay strong, stay safe—for him!’ You repeated it like a mantra, your hair and clothes soaked in the rain as you kept on climbing up the mountain.
Boulder and blood.
Nanami leaned down to the ground, breathing heavily as blood seeped out from his abdomen. You ran to him, holding his head in your arms as you embraced him, tears rolling down your face along with the raindrops. His blood streamed down the puddle as he struggled to speak.
“Love, Lis—fuck—ten” He breathlessly mouthed, his hand resting on your chin as you shook your head in disbelief, not wanting to hear him.
“Don’t say anything! You’re not dying! Please!” You sobbed, as his touch lingered on your chin. You don’t want to let him go. Not like this. He promised you a happy life. Is the jujutsu world really this cruel? Do they have to take him away from you.
“We’ll m-meet…again i—breathe—i..promise. J-Just…stay alive…for me, please” He smiled as he kissed you, using up his last vitality before falling back. You catched his head right before it hit the boulder, not believing your mind as warm tears poured down your face. “No no! You’re not right! You can’t leave me!” You hugged him tightly, as if you were locking his soul within your heart as his blood stained your clothes.
It’s not love..if it hurts…it’s not love if his soul isn’t here. Isn’t here with you.
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a/n: short angst cause i can’t write shit
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