#I’d been working outside that day and I didn’t want to touch anyone

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.

Word Count: 12.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+

A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought I’d be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst 🌙

As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. They’re the culmination of this whole frickin’ journey. It’s been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebud’s breakup, and now you’ll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope y’all enjoy 😘

—————

December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.

Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.

Time healed nothing.

If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitterness…much like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.

Time healed absolutely nothing.

Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits he’d killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since he’d been gone.

“Who the hell are you?”

Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlon’s wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. “A deep admirer of your wife’s cooking,” she answered.

Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.

“And the gun.”

The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.

“And you?”

Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, “Just someone passin’ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.

Marlon looked to Florence, “Why didn’t you shoot them?”

She nodded across the room, “The gun’s all the way over there. They didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes,” Marlon walked to his chair, he’d already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.

“He won’t shoot you,” Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, “He threatens everyone he meets.”

Joel’s hardened stare landed on Y/n’s face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.

“You made ‘em soup?” Marlon gestured to Y/n’s meal, along with Joel’s untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I did,” Florence answered, “It’s cold out.”

Y/n reached across and touched the woman’s arm, “And it’s lovely, Florence. Thank you.”

Joel sighed in exasperation, “We’re lookin’ for my brother.”

Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.”

“I haven’t told you what he looks like,” Joel replied.

“He look anything like you?” Marlon asked.

“A bit.”

Marlon shrugged, “Then I ain’t seen him.”

“They’ve got a girl with them,” Florence nodded up the stairs.

“Can I come down now?” Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.

Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes flicked to one another, Joel’s frustrated, Y/n’s calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.

Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop her…

“Ooh-wa,” Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.

“What did I just say?” Joel said as Ellie joined him.

“Joel, come on,” she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, “They’re like, a thousand.”

Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, “Who’s this little psycho?”

“Never mind her,” Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, “I need you to tell us where we are.”

“If you got a map, why’re you lost?” Marlon asked.

“Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,” Ellie shot back.

“Ho-ly,” Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.

Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his tone…she was trying so damn hard to be like him. “We’re somewhere here,” he pointed to a spot on the map, “Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

Marlon’s eyes flicked to Florence, “You tell ‘em the truth?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasn’t the answer Joel was looking for.

“Well,” he holstered his gun, “You found a great place to hide, I guess.”

“Hide?” Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, “Came here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.”

“Not his wife,” Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.

Florence turned to Y/n, “I didn’t want to.”

“Eh,” Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, “Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?”

“Yeah, got close enough,” Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, “It’s crawling with Infected.

“Yeah, Laramie,” Marlon listed off, “And Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You can’t go there no more.”

Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. “So you’ve never heard the name Tommy Miller?”

“Nope,” Marlon answered.

“What about the Fireflies?” Ellie asked.

Florence nodded, “We get those in the summer.”

“Not the bugs,” Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, “The people.”

“There are firefly people?”

Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, “In the flesh.”

Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldn’t tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.

“You got any advice on the best way west?”

“Yeah,” Marlon leaned forward, “Go east,” he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, “But you never go past the river here. Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked.

“Death,” Florence answered, “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,” she turned to Joel, “If your brother’s west of the river, he’s gone.”

Joel and Y/n’s eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellie’s ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.

“You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie said, confidently.

Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, “Scared them.”

They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didn’t matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.

Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.

“You don’t seriously believe them,” Ellie half-stated, half-asked.

“They’ve lived here a long time,” Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.

Y/n turned around to see why she couldn’t hear Ellie’s footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlon’s rabbits, “El, come on, don’t steal their food.”

Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t have out here,” Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, “Doesn’t mean you have to steal t-“

Y/n’s words faded in Joel’s ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.

Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabin’s fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-

“Joel,” Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, “Joel.”

“Joel?” Ellie echoed, she’d had yet to witness one of his episodes, “Joel, are you okay?”

“Shut up,” he said, verbally waving Ellie off.

“Holy shit, are you dying?” Ellie continued.

Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, “I’m okay.”

Y/n wasn’t so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joel’s shoulder. “Joel, c’mon.”

“Okay, but are you okay?” Ellie asked again.

“I’m fine,” Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, “I’m fine.”

“No, no, but are you?” Ellie wouldn’t stop, why couldn’t she stop? “Because just a reminder, that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.”

Y/n’s gaze darted to the girl, “Ellie-“

That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.

“I said I’m fine,” he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. “It’s just the…cold air all of a sudden.”

Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasn’t.

Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldn’t deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadn’t possessed in twenty years.

“All right, uh,” Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, “So let’s go find Tommy and the Fireflies. It’s gonna be easy,” she slid between the fence and called back to them, “All we have to do is cross the river of death.”

Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.

“Would it have killed you to back me up in there?” Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.

“Yeah,” Y/n’s watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, “‘Cause that’s our biggest problem.”

She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.

The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and they’d reached a place where they weren’t at each other’s throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had melted…

Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.

The physical distance they kept hadn’t changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didn’t need each other.

In every one of Joel’s attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people he’d let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything he’d told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.

Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossible…she was starting to understand why Joel had done what he’d done to her. She’d spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but there’d always been a voice in her head reminding her of the ‘why.’ All of Joel’s actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/n’s mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.

In a perfect world, they’d have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.

—————————

In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.

Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypse’s version of domesticities.

Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.

Joel whistled for her eventually, “Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.

“Ahh,” Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, “Can I have some?”

“No,” Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.

“What? Just to warm up,” Ellie clarified, “C’mon.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldn’t hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joel’s answer.

Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little ‘cheers’ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, “Yep,” she strained, “Still gross.”

Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joel’s lips had been unsettled her.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Okay.”

“Then what?” Ellie asked, “Like, what do we do?”

“Oh, it’s ‘we?’” Joel replied.

“Yeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,” Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.

Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, “Okay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,” she looked to Joel first, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. “It’s never been an option,” he cleared his throat, “Maybe…”

For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.

And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.

“An old farmhouse,” he lied, “Some land…a ranch.”

Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.

“Cool,” Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, “What kind?”

“Sheep,” Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, “I would raise sheep.”

“Sheep,” Ellie repeated under her breath.

“They’re quiet,” Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, “Do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Ellie got the hint, “So just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is there…” her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, “Room for anyone else in the pens with you?”

The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellie’s constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.

“I go back to work after this, El,” Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, “Doubtful I’ll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so I’ll probably stay at the camp out here.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Ellie shook her head, “I asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.”

Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if she’d be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldn’t touch her?

Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, there’d be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarah’s nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/n’s bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitar…

Her dreams were dead.

“I want to work,” she answered, it wasn’t a total lie, “Help people. If I stop for too long…then what the hell am I doing?”

Joel wished he didn’t recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.

Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, “And what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?”

Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean and ahead of you there’s a wall,” her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, “Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell…” Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, “But you know who my favorite is?”

“Sally Ride,” Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasn’t hard to guess.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride,” Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, “Best astronaut name ever!”

Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellie’s passion turned to sobering…grief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.

“It’ll work, right?” Ellie asked, “The vaccine?”

“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.

Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. “I tried…with Sam.”

“Tried what?” Y/n asked.

“I knew he was infected,” Ellie confessed, “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,” she hurried, trying to stop Joel’s anxious admonishment before it came, “I know, it was stupid, but I…” she looked back down at her lap, “I wanted to save him.”

Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henry’s eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good person…she couldn’t erase what she had done.

“Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” Joel plainly answered, “Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”

Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.

Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. “It’ll work,” she replied.

Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. “How’re we splitting up the watches?”

Joel sighed, Y/n’s gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.

“We’ll do ‘em both,” he answered, “Get some sleep. Dream of…” he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, “Sheep ranches on the moon.”

Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, “I will.”

Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.

Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.

Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joel’s conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back to…she craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.

“So, Tommy,” she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.

“What about him?” Joel asked.

“Is he…” Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, “Is he still…Tommy?”

Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother he’d seen. “He’s still a pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Y/n gave a very small smile, “But he’s still him?”

Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldn’t give her. None of them were like they’d been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as he’d been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didn’t want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s still him.”

Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. “I can take first watch,” she volunteered.

“No, you go ahead,” Joel shook his head, “I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.

Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.

But how long could he keep her like that?

—————————

Even in his sleep, Joel couldn’t find rest.

A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.

The gun was gone.

This was it. His grand failure.

He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.

“Still mumbling in your sleep,” she stated, “I woke up early. You and Y/n,” she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, “Were passed out, so I took second watch.”

“You gotta wake one of us up if that happens,” Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, “You can’t do things like this.”

“But I can,” Ellie smiled, “‘Cause I just did.”

Joel crouched down, shaking Y/n’s arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, “Hey.”

All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.

“We’re fine, we’re fine,” Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.

Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadn’t woken her up for her watch, again.

“My fault,” he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, “We’re responsible for you, okay?”

“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie challanged, “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,” she explained as Joel approached her, “Like you taught me to. What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”

Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, “And you’re not cocky about it at all.”

Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that she’d done the job right. “You wake us up next time,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.

Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things they’d unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.

—————————

Even if they’d have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldn’t have changed Joel and Y/n’s minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.

Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldn’t budge on the latter.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Ellie started at some point in their hike, “And I think I figured out what happened between you two.”

Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellie’s cleverness worked against them most of the time.

“Obviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,” she explained, adding a twang to the state’s name, “And then at some point, you guys break up. The ‘why’ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boom…there was somebody else.”

Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.

“Now, I can’t quite figure out which one of you would’ve slipped up,” Ellie continued, “But even if you didn’t cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.”

Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.

Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. “What the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?”

“Whatever,” Ellie brushed it off, “I know I’m right.”

Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.

“Dam,” Ellie punned.

“You’re no Will Livingston,” Joel remarked.

“Yeah, yeah, but who is?” Ellie smiled, “So that made electricity?”

“Yeah,” Joel answered, predicting Ellie’s next question, “Don’t ask me, I don’t have a clue.”

He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.

“You know, you could have just made something up,” Ellie said, “I would’ve believed you.”

The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.

“Look at that river,” Ellie remarked, “It’s crazy blue.”

Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.

“Hey,” Ellie spoke up, “What if this…is the River of Death?”

The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadn’t dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.

“Fuck,” Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.

“We don’t know it yet,” Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.

A noise on the hill above them caught Y/n’s ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.

“Joel,” she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.

At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellie’s free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.

“Get behind me,” Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the guns,” one of the riders ordered.

Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.

“You,” the same guy nodded to Ellie, “Take five steps back.”

“We can talk through this,” Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.

“How about you shut the fuck up?”

“Okay,” Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/n’s as she was threatened, “Easy,” he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, “You’ll be okay.”

Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.

“You been near any Infected?”

“There’s no Infected out here,” Joel answered the man.

“The hell there ain’t,” the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold.

The dog came forward, sniffing from Joel’s boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?

“Like I said,” Joel said, “We’ll just move on.”

But life wasn’t that merciful to them. “Now her,” the rider nodded back to Ellie.

Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellie’s eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, she’d be dead. They’d know they were hiding something and they’d shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybe…just maybe…

Joel wasn’t thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-

Ellie giggled.

Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellie’s face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animal’s neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.

The rider whistled for the dog to return, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, “We’re just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.”

“Ho!”

The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. “What’re your names?”

“Joel,” he answered.

“Y/n.”

The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. “I can take you to your brother,” she finally said.

Joel’s lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.

The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses they’d left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.

Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.

“You hold on and you don’t let go, alright?” Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since she’d ridden.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/n’s middle.

Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.

“Let’s move out,” the woman called to the group.

They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.

Y/n’s breath caught at the sight inside the walls.

It was a town. A proper fucking town.

Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings weren’t crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.

Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.

Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didn’t require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.

“Tommy,” he shouted.

Y/n followed Joel’s line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.

Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.

Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.

Tommy laughed into Joel’s shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, “I came here to save you.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.

Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadn’t felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joel’s shoulder, he straightened up.

Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/n’s quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.

As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/n’s long-held tears began to fall.

“What the hell?” Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/n’s coat.

Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.

“I tried,” Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, “I tried to find you, I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Y/n sniffled, “I know.”

Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommy’s jacket.

If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, he’d been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each other’s presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months he’d seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.

Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.

Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joel’s gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.

“Y’all must be starving,” Tommy said, “Let’s head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.”

The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellie’s reins all the way to the mess hall.

Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what they’d been served.

“There’s more if you need it,” Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.

Joel looked up from his plate, “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” Ellie interjected in between bites, “This is fuckin’ amazing.”

Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.

Joel’s southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. “Sorry. Ellie, let’s mind our manners.”

Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiar…

Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, “What?”

Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, “Ellie…”

“What’s wrong with you?” Joel asked.

“What about her manners?” Ellie replied.

“She was just curious,” Maria cut in, “Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.”

“Right…” Ellie was unimpressed, “Well…maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.”

“They also aren’t armed,” Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.

“You know what?” Tommy jumped in, “Uh, I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

Ellie gestured to the woman, “She was gonna have her guys kill us.”

“Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,” Tommy explained, “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.”

“Well,” Ellie returned to her plate, “You’ve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.”

Joel and Y/n’s heads turned at the same time, “Ellie.”

“They say that you leave dead bodies laying around?” Ellie continued her tirade.

“Those are the people that tried us,” Maria said.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Tommy stated.

“Not always at least,” Maria added, staring right at Joel.

The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Maria’s glare to soften. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Ma’am,” Joel’s voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all,” he looked expectantly to Tommy, “But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”

Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.

Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, “Well, um,” he took his wife’s hand, “Maria is family, actually.”

Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didn’t have a piece of food in her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie put together the pieces, “Congrats.”

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.

“Yeah,” Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, “Congratulations.”

“Joel,” Ellie lowered her voice, “Say congrats.”

It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. “Congrats,” he attempted.

It wasn’t that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joel’s heart suddenly twisted.

“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.

“Great idea,” Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.

They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.

“We settled here about seven years ago,” Maria told the group, “Just a handful of us back then,” she pointed down the middle of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.

“And you said Infected?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, but usually smaller colonies,” Tommy answered, “Wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here…” he looked back to his brother, “It’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, “Can you teach me how?”

“No, he can’t,” Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.

“How do you keep off the radar?” Y/n asked, “I mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?”

“Carefully,” Maria answered, “Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.”

Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer he’d been waiting three months for.

“House of worship,” Maria continued to talk through the buildings, “Multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

Joel’s eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, “And you draw power from the dam?”

“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” Maria answered, “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters…lights.”

“This place actually fuckin’ works,” Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.

If Y/n thought she’d gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frank’s house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.

Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.

“Hey, Joel, look,” Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, “Baaah,” she laughed before turning to Maria, “So are you, like, in charge?”

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria responded, “I’m on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.”

“Everything you see in our town,” Tommy gestured around them, “Greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.”

”So, uh,” Joel figured, “Communism.”

Tommy was quick to scoff, “Nah. Nah, it ain’t like that.”

“It is that, literally,” Maria turned to her husband, “This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.

“Easy there, soldier,” Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.

Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes,” she addressed Tommy, “We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, “It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.”

“Oh, trust me,” Ellie spoke up, “We have been.”

“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.

Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joel’s energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.

“Well,” Maria picked up on the mood, “I’ll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?”

“Uh,” Y/n raised her hand quickly, “I’d actually love to join you.”

Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joel’s eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.

Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/n’s presence with her. Without one, she was restless. “Joel…”

“You’ll be fine,” Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/n’s eyes, it felt like the first time in days he’d had any control.

Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didn’t come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.

The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, “First door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.”

Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.

“I’ve got a few things to grab over at my place,” Maria said, “Maybe Y/n could help me?”

“Go,” Y/n nodded to the girl, “I’ll be back.”

Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.

“There’s only one, so don’t lose it,” she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommy’s house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.

Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.

“Y’know, Tommy told me about you,” Maria called from across the room, “I’ve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.”

The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/n’s stomach. “Oh, yeah,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, “He gave me that nickname the night I met him and…”

“Joel?” Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/n’s reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husband’s brother.

All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-

Her heart stopped.

Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.

Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03

Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03

Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didn’t take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.

Sarah’s name decided her fate.

And she crumbled.

—————————

“Those things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me for…I did those things to keep us alive.”

“We did those things,” Tommy pushed back, “And they weren’t “things’,” we murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew how…but there were other ways. We just weren’t any good at ‘em,” he paused, preparing himself for Joel’s reaction, “But I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.

“Joel, you l-“

“I know what I did,” Joel’s voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.

“And now, twenty years later, here she is,” Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, “Do you even know where she’s been? What she’s been through? ‘Cause I don’t! And I’d have liked to know.”

Joel’s anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.

“Have the two of you even talked about it?” Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.

Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the past…

—————————

September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

Cordyceps.

It was the only word people were capable of saying.

Cordyceps.

One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.

Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only “safe zones” for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.

Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarah’s death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.

Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.

She returned from another attempt to reach her parent’s house, her cell phone getting no reception. She’d also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommy’s phones. Nothing.

Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.

“I still can’t get through,” Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, “Tried my parents, Annie, Jason…” she thought of her siblings, “Nothing.”

Joel didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.

“I have to get up there, Joel,” Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, “I have to find them, make sure they’re okay.”

Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousy…all of which can change you into an entirely different person.

And Joel was slipping away by the second.

“Joel, I have to go,” Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.

Nothing.

“And I can’t go alone…” Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joel’s cheek into her palm, “Joel, I need you.”

Joel stared forward, motionless.

Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarah’s death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldn’t navigate the wreckage on her own.

“Joel,” she whispered, “I know it hurts-“

“Don’t,” Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, “Don’t.”

Y/n’s eyebrows came down in confusion, “Don’t what?”

“Don’t you act like you know what I’m feelin’,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.

Of all the reactions, Y/n couldn’t have ever predicted this one.

“Joel, I was there too,” she replied, keeping her tone gentle, “I was-“

Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. “I’m her father,” he gritted through his teeth, “You were a bystander. They are not the same.”

Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. He’d never so much as raised his voice at her.

As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldn’t let him descend into hostility. She wasn’t sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Joel…” she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarah’s voice. “She called me mom.”

If there was one thing about Joel’s reaction to his daughter’s death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarah’s decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.

He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. “No, she didn’t.”

Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. “Joel, she did,” she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, “I went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.”

“She didn’t,” Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.

“Joel,” Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.

“NO!”

Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. He’d scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.

“She didn’t fuckin’ say it,” Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, “You weren’t her damn mother.”

Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter if you wanted to be,” Joel kept going, “Doesn’t matter if you tried. You weren’t. You were some fuckin’ woman livin’ in her house.”

Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joel’s grief. But she wasn’t going to allow him to take her last normal moment she’d had with Sarah away from her.

“You weren’t there,” she argued back, “It happened, whether or not you want to believe it,” Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, “She chose me.”

“You’re fuckin’ lyin’,” Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldn’t look at her.

Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldn’t manage Joel in this state on her own.

Joel couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?

Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joel’s delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.

“I’m done.”

Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. “What?”

Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, “I’m done. We’re done.”

The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.

“Joel-“

“No,” he shook his head quickly, “This is over. I’m not gonna stay with you when you’re lyin’ about my child-“

Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, “Joel-“

“You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that she’s g-“ Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, “Oh, God…”

Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. “Joel,” she urged, “Don’t do this. Take a breath and-“

Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. “Don’t. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, don’t even fuckin’ look at me.”

“Joel,” Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, “I love you. I’m here and I love you.”

Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safe…it nearly pulled him back to shore.

Nearly.

Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, “Well, I don’t love you.”

If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/n’s heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarah’s death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didn’t think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.

Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. “You don’t mean that,” she mumbled.

“I do,” Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.

The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.

Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.

“W-wait,” she trembled, quickly following after him, “Where are you going?”

“To find Tommy,” Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.

“Joel, stop,” Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, “Joel!”

Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.

“Joel,” Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, “Joel, you can’t go out there. Tommy said-“

“Don’t tell me what my own brother said,” Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.

Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.

“Joel,” Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.

Once he got to the truck’s door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.

“Joel!” Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.

Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.

Y/n surged forward, Joel’s absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, “Joel, don’t. Don’t,” she hyperventilated, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t.”

Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.

Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.

“Joel, don’t do this,” she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, “I love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.”

Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.

Y/n’s chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. “No, Joel. Don’t do this! I love you, please, don’t do this.”

Joel’s body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But grief’s noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.

He pressed down on the gas pedal.

“No,” Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, “Joel, don’t! Don’t do this to me! Please! Don’t do this to me!”

Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.

“Don’t do this,” Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the truck. “Joel!”

The final cry did it, Joel couldn’t handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.

Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.

She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt he’d left, “JOEL!”

Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinic’s lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.

That was when she fell apart.

She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didn’t want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.

Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.

—————————

December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommy’s living room, clutching her stomach.

“I think I found everything,” Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.

Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/n’s body with a force she hadn’t felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Maria’s caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.

“I’m sorry,” the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/n’s ear.

There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/n’s grief over Sarah’s death, Joel’s abandonment, the choices she’d had to make after she was left on her own…it was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.

Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasn’t sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.

“Tommy told me all about you,” Maria said, still holding Y/n, “About your family. How good you were with Sarah.”

Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girl’s chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.

“It doesn’t matter what happened between you and Joel,” Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, “You helped raise that girl. Far as I’m concerned, you should feel a mother’s grief.”

A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/n’s lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.

—————————

“I’m gonna be a father.”

Tommy’s words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breath…it all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.

“To be honest, I’m scared to death,” Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, “But I don’t know, uh…” he smiled, “I feel like I’d be a good dad.”

Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universe’s cruel slap.

“Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.

“‘I guess we’ll find out?’” Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, “That’s all you got?”

Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, “What else am I supposed to say?”

Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joel’s grief. “Just because life stopped for you,” he said, “Doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything he’d almost had.

“We’ll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the mornin’,” Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.

—————————

“I, uh,” Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, “I should get back to Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” Maria said softly, “I’ll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.”

Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadn’t had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didn’t have the will to fight Maria on the offer.

“Thank you,” she laid a hand on Maria’s arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.

Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the children’s playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaled…she’d had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.

Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.

On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew she’d find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his hand…

—————————

Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once again…

Once upon a time, Tommy’s life had been his. He’d had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that they’d made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarah’s life, a ring nearly on her finger…

And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.

He’d had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldn’t face the alternate. He couldn’t believe that he had abandoned her for no good reason…

It was a conclusion he’d come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.

Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joel’s eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one woman’s silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voice…in his panicked state, it was Sarah.

He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, they’d abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-

A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.

Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, he’d convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.

It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.

—————————

Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldn’t handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.

Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. “Oh,” he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, “Thought you were Joel.”

“I’m thankful you’re not,” Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.

She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, “You two not getting along?”

Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. “Complicated,” he answered, “But I’m preachin’ to the choir, aren’t I?”

Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.

“Maria’s pregnant,” Tommy blurted out.

Y/n’s arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.

Tommy smiled up at her, “That so hard to believe?”

“Well, you gotta cut me a little slack here,” Y/n replied, dazed, “The last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.”

Tommy chuckled, he’d missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brother’s grief as its medium.

“I…” Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, “How do you feel about it?”

“Good,” he nodded, “I think. Maria’s already been a mom before, but…I really do think I could be a good dad.”

Y/n rested her hand on Tommy’s wrist, drawing his eyes to her. “You’ll make a great dad,” she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him she’d gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.

Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.

“So that’s why…” Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.

“Yep,” Tommy turned back to his whiskey.

“Oh,” Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadn’t thought about how Joel might have reacted.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tommy asked.

Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, “C’mon, it’s been twenty years but you don’t have to be formal.”

It wasn’t formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.

“How the hell are you two doin’ this?” Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.

In her anxious state, Y/n hadn’t stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.

“There were…” Y/n cleared her throat, “A lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had to…come to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.”

“Joel told me you’re with the kid,” Tommy cut in, “She’s not yours?”

Y/n snorted, “No. But she’s…” she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, “She wasn’t going with Joel unless I came with. So really, she’s to blame for all this.”

Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question he’d asked Joel, “You two talked about what happened yet?”

Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, “What’s there to talk about?”

“I think there’s everything to fuckin’ talk about,” Tommy replied.

The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her body’s nervous energy.

“How long did it take him to tell you what happened?” Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ah, the full story?” Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, “All I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.”

Y/n’s smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.

“I looked for you,” Tommy said, reiterating what he’d said at the gate, “I mean, I combed every fuckin’ inch of that place tryin’ to find you. I wasn’t gonna leave you.”

“I know,” Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, “I figured that out at some point. That you wouldn’t have gone along with that…”

Tommy watched Y/n’s face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.

“You don’t actually believe what he said, do you?”

Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, “Why shouldn’t I believe him?”

“C’mon,” Tommy turned to her, “He was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n raised a hand to her head, “Are you defending him?”

“Hell no,” Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, “I’m tryin’ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didn’t stop lovin’ you, he-“

“Stop,” Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, “Stop. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware he’d lifted off it while talking.

“You have no idea what I went through after he left,” Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, “What I had to do…” she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, “And then he came back. He fucking came back, and I haven’t been able to escape him for three months.”

Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.

“And now we’re here,” Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, “And it’s so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,” she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, “And it’s killing me. It’s killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all that…”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.

“I can’t,” Y/n held up a shaking hand, “I can’t…be near him right now. Because all I see is her, is us…and it’s fucking breaking me.”

Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. “That doesn’t sound like hate to me.”

Y/n’s bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And she’d have rather died than admit it.

“Well, it needs to be,” she whispered.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later

[just-mint-to-be]

Hi! I seriously looooove your work and was wondering if you had any ideas featuring homelander and a super friendly receptionist at Vought. She always greets everyone with a big grin and comes odd as a little silly which pisses him off at first but he realises he’s got to have her. Maybe a touch of nsfw 🥺🥺🥺

Yandere! Homelander x Ditzy/Sweet Receptionist (Fem)

- You started out the day bright eyed, enthusiastic and eager to play your part as the overly chipper receptionist, happily greeting everyone with a high pitch.

- The only time it wasn’t slightly grating was when it was own name being doused with copious amounts of disgustingly sweet, vocal sugar.

- ‘Morning Mr. Homelander!’

- Then as it dragged into late afternoon, fatigue would always grace your features and tone ever so slightly. He saw you fight it with every patron and every piece of paper handed; how cute, you thought anything short of being an obnoxious corporate shill as unkindness.

- A part of him regretted brushing you off the first time with a nod. You had so much potential, so much room for a valuable lesson. You needed someone or something that would teach you not to give a shit what anyone but those that actually mattered thought of you.

- Yes, you needed a little tough love. Not the traditional kind; not harsh but caring words from a friend or associate.

- Rather the kind of eerie wake up call only someone utterly enraptured with you and your future (namely, how it played into his own) could deliver. An iron fist in a velvet glove; yes, you needed him.

- ‘Say, it’s such nice afternoon. Much better spent outside, don’t you think?’

- You smile, ‘Oh it’s not so bad, I like it here.’ Christ, even now you presented as nothing but sunshine and fucking rainbows. It was exhausting

- ‘Still, I’d say you deserve a break. Can’t have a pretty woman such as yourself wasted indoors. Coffee, meet me downstairs in fifteen.’

- You hesitated, ‘me?’ You pointed with a mullet like expression to which he affectionately rolled his eyes before nodding. ‘I’ll have to ask my boss…’

- He leant forward, a gloved hand gently pressing down the phone you were about to grasp. ‘I wasn’t asking, sweetness, I was telling you. You need it, trust me.’

- A coffee had turned into an early clock off; something he promised he would personally see to making sure you wouldn’t get in trouble for.

- ‘You’ll be fine y/n, hey- if Homelander can’t pull a few strings, who can?’

- It then turned to dinner, then you hardly protested when he suggested you come back to his penthouse for dessert.

- Part of him felt something akin to guilt; you clearly didn’t understand his double entendre. It was the shining, doe like innocence of your e/c eyes that had him send for two bowls of vanilla ice cream and popping open some champagne before trying for what he really wanted.

- ‘I’m sorry…’ you giggled, swaying your legs on the stool as you nursed a glass he seemed intent on perpetually refilling. ‘I should get home…’

- ‘No can do missy,’ he brandished a pearly white grin, ‘I can’t let a young lady walk home at this hour, or catch a cab- you know how some of those guys can be…’

- ‘I guesss,’ you laughed, resigning yourself to his guiding, hungry touches that pulled you toward the bedroom.

NSFW

- You were lucky he’d been the one to claim you, to actually bother with an attempt at giving you a good time.

- Your continued laughs as the clothes peeled off you with ease and his kisses trailed down your neck, down your chest, down your abdomen…

- ‘I don’t… stop that tickles!’ you bit your lip, inebriation making it hard to push him away. ‘I don’t normally sleep with someone on the first date…’

- ‘Oh is this a date?’ Of course it was, he’d already decided he was gonna marry you whether you liked it or not for fucks sake. But that shocked, embarrassed little gloss of shame on your eyes from a momentary jest? Beyond worth it.

- ‘Oh baby I’m kidding!’ He plants a firm, assuring kiss to your lips. ‘Relax, you’re in no state to take control here.’

- So he did it for you. Every wanton moan you tried to hide was thrust out of you, every desperate scratch of your fingertips taken in stride. You finished not long after he did, how adorable it was that you thought of apologise for the way you grasped his bicep.

- He was a supe, you must’ve been seriously hammered or deluded yo think your little orgasm clutch was anything but comparable to a fly landing.

- When you awoke the next day, it was surprisingly before him. He stirred begrudgingly, noting the way you scurried around trying to collect your clothes as quietly as possible.

- ‘Hey,’ he blinked, the vision of you before him all dishevelled a whole feast of its own.

- ‘Oh, hello!’ You smiled, immediately turning apologetic once more, ‘Sorry if I woke you, I’ll be leaving now.’

- Homelander didn’t even have to shift from his comfortable place, merely petting the space you’d occupied prior. ‘Come back to bed’

- Your face flicked with worries of work, of getting home- but as always, you defaulted to being accomodating.

- Slipping right in beside him rewarded you with a chaste kiss to the forehead and a cage like arm snaking over your form; it sought out the warmth your skin and provided last night.

- He didn’t want you to leave, so you didn’t. He didn’t want you dating anyone but him, so you wouldn’t be.

- It was better this way; being accomodating and sweet for anyone else was a waste of your time, and a waste of your winning smile.

#minty’s writing #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #minty’s the boys #Yandere Homelander #dark! Homelander #Yandere the boys #dark! the boys

[simplyholl]

Out of My System Pt 7

Summary: Loki doesn't understand Thor's attraction to Midgardians. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Angst. Pregnancy.

W/C: 846

A/N: Sorry this is so short! I’ve been crazy busy with the Whore-O-Ween stuff.

Out of My System Masterlist

You were shaking with excitement. Odin had agreed to let you visit Asgard on Loki and Thor’s next trip. You didn’t know what you were most excited about, meeting his mother or seeing the place where he grew up.

There was also another reason you were excited. You were hiding a pretty big secret. You had found out earlier in the week that you’re pregnant. You weren’t exactly keeping the news from Loki, you just wanted to find the right time to tell him. You thought that the opportunity would present itself on your trip.

Frigga was everything you imagined and so much more. She welcomed you with open arms. You loved her already. As soon as she saw you, she gave you a knowing smile. A mother always knows. Loki left the two of you alone to talk, and she asked if he knew the second he walked out.

She was almost more excited than you. The next day, she gifted you with Asgardian baby gowns in Loki’s colors. You hid them in your bag so Loki wouldn’t find them. You walked around the palace after you ate looking for Loki.

You stumble upon Sif and another lady. “Have you seen Loki?” “He was seen in the garden with Rose earlier.” She smirked and you thanked her, making your way to the garden. “Poor dear, Loki brought her all the way from Midgard and he’s already seeing someone behind her back. He and Rose used to be an item centuries ago. You know what they say, old flames die hard.”

You couldn’t believe what she was saying. You were only a few steps away, surely they meant for you to hear it. But you knew Loki, and he wouldn’t cheat on you. You hurried outside, spotting Loki sitting on a bench with Rose. You could hear her obnoxious giggle as she climbed into his lap.

Shocked, you got on your hands and knees crawling to a nearby bush. You hid behind it so you could spy on them. There had to be a logical explanation for why she was in his lap. Maybe she got hurt and he was helping her.

“A Midgardian, Loki? I thought even you had standards. She’s not even that pretty. You could have your choice of any Asgardian woman. Why don’t we go back to my cottage? It will be just like old times. I’ll do that thing you like.” She purred.

You shake with anger. How dare she? You peak through the bush waiting for Loki’s response. This should be good. He wouldn’t let anyone say anything bad about you. Loki takes her loose curl between his fingers placing it behind her ear. “That’s quite a tempting offer-“

Rage consumes you. You stand, giving away your hiding spot. You stomp over to them, not caring how crazy you looked. If looks could kill, they would both be dead. “Darling, what are you -“ You don’t give Loki the chance to finish. “Get your ass up!” You shout at her. She looks from you to Loki. This must be how Bruce feels when he turns into the Hulk. Damn these pregnancy hormones. You grab Rose��s arm and sling her to the ground.

“Oh!” She shouts as her body lands hard with a thud. “Loki, please help me, she’s assaulted me!” She whines. Loki takes one step toward her, but stops when he sees how angry you are. “You’re lucky that’s all I did!” She gets up with a huff, running in the opposite direction.

“Darling, I can explain. It’s not what it looked like.” Your hand meets his cheek before you can think. He brings his hand to it, shocked. “What’s the matter with you?” He questions. “Me? What about you? I heard her trashing me and you didn’t defend me once! She propositioned you, Loki. An offer I heard you accept.” He places his hand on yours, and you jerk away from his touch.

“I was so foolish to think this could work, that I’d ever be enough for you. You didn’t even like Earth women, Loki. I don’t know why I thought I was any different.” You fight back tears, refusing to let him see you cry. “You better go after her.”

You sob the entire way back to Loki’s chamber. Hand on your non-existent baby bump, you think of all that could’ve been, all that he had ruined. “It’s just you and me from now on. I’m sorry your dad’s such an asshole. I’ve always had horrible taste in men. I just thought he was different.” You cried harder remembering that you slapped him. “I’m going to give birth in Asgardian jail because I assaulted Prince Jackass!” You wailed.

Loki gave you some time to calm down. He knew he couldn’t talk to you when you were so angry. He was about to refuse Rose’s advances and defend you when you popped out of the bushes like a mad woman.

“Mother, have you seen her? I’ve been looking everywhere.” Frigga frowned at him. “She went back to Midgard, Loki. Thor accompanied her per my request.” Loki runs a hand through his hair looking frustrated. “Why would you send Thor? Why wouldn’t you send for me?” He shouted. Frigga placed a dainty hand on her son’s shoulder. “You’ve done enough today. What were you thinking? You should have known what it would look like.”

When he reached his chambers, he noticed you left your bag. He missed you and he wasn’t sure if he could fix this. You were so angry with him, and you had every right to be. He decided to go through your bag, hoping to find something that smelled like you.

He picked out a hoodie, bringing it to his nose for comfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his colors. He knew you didn’t have anything like that, so his curiosity got the best of him. He lifted the small items out of your bag. Realizing what they were, he was shocked.

He thought back, remembering how you had gotten sick smelling your favorite food. You were sick quite often lately, but you told him it was a stomach flu. Why hadn’t you told him? Perhaps you didn’t want a child with him. You hadn’t been dating for very long. A child would change your relationship. One thing was for certain, he had to get back to you.

Tags (cont. in comments)

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @anukulee @sheris532 @lokixryss @multifandom-worlds @javagirl328 @assemblingavenger @lilibet261 @lemonadygirl @joyofbebbanburg @bellajg21 @ladymischief11 @kats72 @evelyn-rathmore @innebulae @alexakeyloveloki @princess-ofthe-pages @xorpsbane @itssomeonereading @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @navs-bhat @fire-in-her-veinz @crimson25 @darkserenity24 @mischief2sarawr @nikkig496-blog @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x yn #loki fanfic #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki tom hiddleston #loki marvel #mcu loki #out of my system

[the-ghost-boo]

The Royal Pardon - Part 1 [Gay Smut]

All characters are above the age of 18.

Hi! This is just another story that I’ve been writing. I was thinking of making it a multi-parter so if you do want a second part make sure to tell me below! As always, I hope you enjoy it - it’s my second ever story so I’m still developing my writing style! Happy reading <3

- The Ghost Boo

It’s not every day that you mess up a prince’s live televised speech. The wind howls as I’m escorted through the long winding palace corridors by stone faced guards and I can’t help but shiver nervously. I’m not anyone important, just some nobody assistant working for the palace who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was in the middle of his speech, speaking passionately about something which I wasn’t paying much attention to - OK I may have been focusing on the noticeable bulge showing beneath his tight trousers when I was meant to be checking the wiring but how can I help it?

Tripping over the wire and falling straight into the prince was not exactly my most gracious moment, but I’ll take what life gives me and in that moment life gave me something I’d only ever dreamed about - I was on top of the prince, pinning him down to the ground below. I was stuck in my fantasy while hell broke loose around me. At least until the Royal Guards dragged me off of him and away.

I’m now here to apologise to him and while it might be nerve wracking, I’m also excited to see the prince again, even if he might be mad at me. 

We finally reach the prince’s room and one of the guards knocks on the door.

“Come in”, calls the prince from inside.

As the door swings open, I can’t help but feel slightly lightheaded as I look at the prince. His soft brown hair creates a halo around his perfect face and his dimples stare me in the face.

“You may leave us”, he says softly to the guards.

Seemingly unsure as to whether to leave, the guards look at each other nervously and shuffle in their places. Apparently it’s unusual for the prince to ask them to leave whilst talking to someone.

“Leave now!”. His voice takes on a more commanding tone and they instantly walk out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind them.

I just stand there in silence, looking at him before I realise what I’m meant to be doing. It’s too late though and the prince starts talking.

“Quite a mess you made yesterday”. 

Surprisingly he doesn’t sound angry, he seems to be just making a remark.  

“I-i’m really sorry your majesty”, I manage to stammer out, “it was a complete accident. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t fire me though, this is all I have, I need this job. I’ll do anything, just please keep me”. 

“Ah yes”, the prince responds, “it would be a huge shame for me to have to fire someone, I hope that it won’t come to that”. 

“I hope so too”, the words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“So, you’ll do anything?” he asks.

“Anything your majesty”, I reply.

Before I can even process what’s happening, he stands up and pulls down his trousers in one fluid movement, leaving him in only some very tight white boxers. 

He smirks at me as he tells me, “you said you'd do anything. Well if you want to keep your job and get a royal pardon, then you’ll do exactly what I say”.

Unbeknownst to him, my wildest fantasies are coming true. I'd dreamed of this since I’d started working at the palace a few months ago and first laid my eyes on him. 

“Come forward”, his voice takes on the commanding tone that it did when he spoke to his guards outside, “I need some help. Unfortunately for me it’s not easy to get sexual pleasures as a prince, the only encounters I’ve had have been with me, myself and I”. 

I swallow as he pushes me down to my knees and I’m left facing his impressive bulge. His hands make their way to the back of my head and he pushes it forward until my lips are left touching the soft felt fabric. A musky smell fills my nose - he’s definitely ejaculated into these boxers before.

Softly, he moves away for a second and slips the boxers down his bare legs and flings them into a pile on his bed. His absolutely huge soft cock is now dangling between his legs and without him even needing to say anything, I lunge forward.

I slowly rub my lips against it, tasting it, a tangy taste filling my mouth. Gradually, it starts to grow, until a fully erect 9 inch pole stares back at me. I look up and see the prince smiling at me from above. 

“Suck it”, he commands, “and if you do well, not only will you keep your job - you’ll get a promotion”.

That’s all the motivation I need. I hungrily enclose my mouth around the head, peeling back the foreskin with my mouth. My tongue slips out and I start to lick all around, wetting his dick with my hot saliva. Eventually, I place my mouth around his shaft and start to suck passionately, moving my head up and down it at a rapid pace. Soft moans escape his mouth as he pushes into me, banging against the back of my throat with his dick. I’ve never sucked anyone before, so it surprises me that I’m able to fit the whole 9 inches down my throat.

“Good boy”, the prince moans from above me, “you’re doing great”. 

As my mouth moves up and down, tongue swirling around, enveloping his member, his moans start to increase in volume and frequency. Seemingly unable to resist the urge, he grabs fistfuls of my jet black hair and starts to violently slam my head back and forth. Wow, he’s face fucking me. 

Again and again, the tip of his dick slams against the back of my throat and I try not to gag as his salty pre-cum drips down into my throat. 

Eventually his breathing becomes laboured and he starts to groan. Inside my mouth, I feel him about to climax and quickly, he pulls his dick out of my mouth and holds it above my head. My mouth opens eagerly and I stare up at it, ready to accept whatever he wants to deposit on me.

Finally, after a few short moments, his cock starts to convulse and long ropes of salty white cum start to spurt out, splashing over my face. I shut my eyes as it runs down my face and into my eyes. I open my mouth though and try to swallow as much of that salty whiteness as I can. I’m in ecstasy as the last few drops fall onto my hair, leaving me covered in his spunk.

Wanting to clean himself up, he pushes his helmet onto the tip of my mouth and I slightly open it, my tongue flicking out to clear the last few droplets of cum from it. 

Above me, I heard a low groan and he says, “Well, that’s a promotion for sure!”

#gay smut #gaysmut #smut #gay #gay hot #male x male #male #mxm smut #mxm #oc #ocs #so hot 🔥🔥🔥 #hot as fuck #male reader #m reader

[xiaq]

Steddie outsider POV fic Pt. 4

AO3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Eddie watches Steve leave the hospital room and Will watches Eddie watch Steve leave. 

The longing is familiar. Will thinks—he hopes—that he hides his inadvisable crush a little better. Then again, Will is not currently high as a kite on painkillers recovering from a near-fatal injury. Eddie probably can’t help the way he looks at Steve right now. 

“Are you in love with him?” Will asks. It’s maybe unfair to ask, all things considered. They barely know each other. But if Eddie is like him; if Eddie knows, he’d give anything to find someone to talk to. To see himself in. Especially someone like Eddie.

Eddie closes his eyes.

He doesn’t answer for several seconds. When he does, it's resigned. “Maybe.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Will says, because he’d want to hear it.

Eddie opens his eyes to roll them. “I know, kid. You ain’t too subtle either.” He makes a moue of distaste. “And you have shit taste in men. You could absolutely do better. At least I chose a suitably gorgeous out-of-my-league object of worship. If you’re going to pine after someone unattainable, have the self-respect to pick a really,” he sighs, the roll of words slowing to a crawl, “really impressive specimen.”

“Hey. I do not have—I think you’re hot.”

“You’re just confirming my point,” he says, gesturing to his admittedly pretty battered face. “Shit taste in men.”

Will feels like he should probably tell Eddie not to talk about himself like that, but he’s never been good at stuff like this.

“Steve has been here every day,” Will points out. 

“Because we bonded through trauma and he thinks he owes me for valiantly saving Henderson’s life at the near expense of my own. We all know Dustin is his favorite.”

“I’m just saying. My situation is hopeless. I know that. Yours might not be.”

“Please stop talking, Byers.”

“Sorry. Can I ask about something else?”

“Sure kid.” Eddie sounds exhausted.

“When did you know? That you were—uh.”

“When didn’t I know,” he mutters. “I don’t think I ever had the luxury of not knowing.”

“But you’re so…”

Will gestures at him: the bandana holding back his curls, the rings and the nail polish and the oversized Metallica shirt Steve had cut down the back and added a safety pin fastening to at the top so the nurses still had easy access for bandage changes.

“You’re so cool. Different. Loud. And the guys said you aren’t afraid of anything. That you’ll get in jocks’ faces and make speeches standing on cafeteria tables. How do you do that without being afraid?”

“Being afraid of what?” Eddie asks, “Afraid if I’m noticeable people might notice? That I’m gay?”

He says it so easily. Will has never even said the word out loud. “Yeah.”

Eddie shifts, wincing, as he reaches to scratch his chin. “I was never good at being subtle, is the thing. So I didn't have much of a choice. But in middle school I started getting into fights. Because people suspected. By high school I figured if people were going to stare I’d give them a reason before they could make their own. It was—”

He drops his hand, flexing his fingers, considering the rings on them.

“It was sort of like designing a character. Except the character was myself. The summer before freshman year, my uncle took me to Indy and we hit all the thrift stores. Found me a whole new wardrobe, and he taught me to sew to customize some vests. I figured it’d be easier to BS my way through acting brave if I looked the part.”

“And that worked?”

“It worked,” Eddie agrees quietly, attention still on his hands. “Maybe a little too well.”

“Huh.”

Will touches the slightly jagged line of his hair. He tugs the collar of his shirt and studies the scuffed toes of his sneakers. “If I wanted to do something like that, would you help me?”

“Of course,” Eddie says. “Yeah, of course. Just say when.” 

***

Three months later, Will drives to Eddie’s trailer in his shiny new bribe-from-the-government car and knocks on the door.

There’s a crash, a muffled thump, and then Eddie hissing, “Ow, fuck—no don’t, I’m fine, just stay––I know, but hold on. I think it’s one of the kids.”

“Uh…Eddie?” Will calls. “Are you ok?”

“Fine! Totally fine. One second.”

And then Eddie is wrenching open the door just wide enough that he can poke his head out. His mouth is red. His face is flushed. He’s wearing jeans that are neither buttoned or zipped and it is readily apparent that there’s no underwear underneath them. Will drags his attention back up to Eddie’s face, probably slower than he should, but Eddie is hot, even with––maybe especially with––all his scars. Sue him.

“Hi,” Eddie says, more a panted exhalation than an actual word. “What’s up?”

“Hi.”

Will may have woefully nonexistent sexual experience, but he knows what a hickey looks like. And Eddie has…a lot of them. He has like, an entire necklace of hickies.

Eddie frowns at him, follows the direction of his attention, and then brings up a hand to cover his throat. “Oh, you motherfucker,” he mutters.

“Sorry?”

“No no, not you.”

“I can…come back later,” Will says. “If you’re doing something else.”

He thinks he hears muffled laughter from inside.

Eddie sighs. “It’s fine.” he glances behind him, running a harried hand through his even-wilder-than-normal hair. “My boyfriend is here, but he can wait.”

“Oh. Oh.” Will is sort of dumbfounded that Eddie found someone in Hawkins. Maybe he’s not from Hawkins. Maybe he’s visiting from somewhere else? “That’s great. That’s really great, Eddie. But what about––”

“SO,” Eddie says loudly, before Will can say Steve’s name, “why is it that you’ve graced my humble abode with your presence, Will the Wise?”

“Um,” Will says. “You know that thing we talked about, in the hospital?”

“We talked about numerous and sundry things in the the hospital.”

“About not being afraid anymore. About giving people something to look at.”

Eddie’s expression softens. “I do.”

“I think I’m ready to not be afraid anymore. But I need help.”

“I see. How wild are we getting here, kid?”

“Hair and clothes. And maybe…I was thinking maybe get my ear pierced.”

Eddie whistles. “I’m honored you’ve selected me to accompany you on this journey. Is there anyone else you want to join the party?”

“I was thinking maybe Steve. Except he wasn’t home when I went by earlier. I thought I saw his car parked a few houses down from here, though. He might be at Max’s.”

Eddie presses his palms together like he’s praying, and touches pursed lips to his index fingers. “Give me a minute,” he says. And abruptly disappears behind a slammed door.

There’s frantic whispering, a choked off laugh, and then the door is being pulled open again by—

Steve.

“Holy shit,” Will says.

Steve is also shirtless; his pants are at least buttoned. His chest looks like it’s been clawed by an Eddie-sized cat, though.

Will tries to tell his dick that the situation is mortifying, not sexy. His dick does not agree. 

“So,” Steve clears his throat. “Impromptu trip to Indy?”

“We’ve both got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, “but Saturday?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees.

He can’t stop staring at Steve’s arm, curled proprietarily around Eddie’s waist; at Eddie’s hand resting on Steve’s wrist, like he’s not even conscious of its placement. Will wants that. He wants it so bad it winds him.

“Hey. Don’t make that face,” Eddie says, like he knows exactly what Will is thinking. He probably does. “You’re sixteen. You’ve got time. Hardly anyone ends up with their highschool crush. I’m an outlier.”

“And no offense dude, but Mike?” Steve says, “You could totally do better.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Hold on,” Steve backtracks, turning to look at Eddie. “I was your teenage crush?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “What? No.”

“That’s literally what you just said.”

“We really need to get you back to that concussion doctor,” Eddie says, “because clearly you’re hearing things, and auditory hallucinations are very concerning.”

“Hey,” Will interrupts. 

Those both turn back to look at him.

“I’m driving,” he says, trying to sound firm. “I’ll pick you both up here at 9am on Saturday.”

“You’re assuming I’ll already be here?” Steve asks.

“Won’t you?” Will argues.

“I like this assertiveness, Byers,” Eddie says approvingly. “A+ start. But maybe you pick us up at ten.”

“Nine,” he repeats. “See you then.”

He nods decisively and turns to walk back through the yard.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters behind him. “These kids are going to kill me.”

“Shut up, you love them,” Eddie says, and then, louder, “Hey Byers, keep this to yourself, will you? At least for now.”

Will holds out his hand, thumb up.

When he gets back in the car, Will puts in a Dio tape and cranks up the volume. He grins all the way home.

***

Will arrives at the final Hellfire club meeting of the summer wearing a cropped Black Sabbath shirt, ripped jeans that rival Eddie’s, and shitkicker boots that were well worth the eye-watering amount of money he paid for them. His hair is fresh-shaved on the sides and slicked back on top. The guys are mostly used to his new look by now but Max and El both give him appreciative once-overs that are gratifying. 

“Bitchin,” El says approvingly.

Will’s attention doesn’t linger on Mike. Doesn’t look for his specific reaction. It hurts less to look at him, now; gets easier every day to see him and El and not feel like their affection is engineered to hurt him. It helps that he’s gone back to Indy twice since he went with Steve and Eddie. He’s still too baby-faced to get into the bars, but he can wander through the record stores and thrift shops in the neighborhood. Sit in a cafe where no one knows him or his name. Flirt, carefully, while bumming a cigarette from a cute guy with a bandana in his pocket. The world is so much bigger than Hawkins. And he’s going to see it one day.

However, he’s still stuck there for two more years, and he plans to make the best of his time. Exhibit A:   Today is both the end of Eddie’s final campaign, and the day in which Eddie selects his successor as dungeon master.

Will thinks, maybe, it might be him. He wants it to be him.

Except when he gets to the basement, there’s no sign of Eddie. And Eddie is never late.

“Has anyone talked to him today?” Dustin asks. He’s pacing.

No one has.

“Have you tried calling him?” Will asks.

“Yeah.”

“Have you tried calling Steve?”

“Why would I call Steve?”

“Maybe just try? They’ve been hanging out a lot recently.”

Max meets his eyes and Will gets the distinct feeling she knows.

Dustin stomps up the stairs, then back down again a minute later.

“No one picked up at Steve’s house either.”

“Robin?” El suggests.

Dustin groans and heads back upstairs.

“No,” he yells down. “Any other suggestions?”

“Family Video,” Lucas shouts. 

“Or the garage!” Mike says.

Dustin has a muffled conversation first with someone who is clearly neither Steve nor Robin at Family Video, and then a longer conversation with someone else at the garage. It’s full of stops and starts and anxious-sounding questions.

“Guys,” Dustin says, coming back down the stairs. “I think Eddie and Steve might be in trouble.”

“I’ll drive,” Will says. 

They’re piled in the car and tearing off toward the garage in a matter of minutes.

“Tell me again what he said,” Max demands.

“Jason Carver and some of the guys came in to drop off a car and they were harassing Eddie last week. Since then, they’d been waiting in the parking lot across the street sometimes when Eddie got off work. So Steve has been picking him up.”

“Okay but what about today?”

“He didn’t know!” Dustin’s voice cracks in Will’s ear where he’s leaned forward over the center console from the back seat. “He said that Eddie came in to work a few hours in the morning and Steve picked him up. That Jason and his friends may have followed them but he wasn’t certain.”

“What time?”

“Over an hour ago.”

“Shit.”

“Where would they go? If they’re not at their houses?”

“The quarry,” Will says. “Or skull rock.”

“Why would they go there?” Dustin shrieks.

Will meets Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

He abruptly changes course.

Quarry first.

His stomach goes sour when they round the corner. Because there are two vehicles at the quarry. One is Steve’s BMW.  There’s a rucked quilt on the hood and one glass coke bottle tangled in it, tipped on its side, staining the floral fabric. A second bottle is on the ground, shattered by the front tire. Steve’s keys are laying in the gravel next to the broken glass.

 The second vehicle, parked at a haphazard angle beside it, is Jason Carver’s truck. All four doors are open. The engine is still running. The radio is still on. But there are no people to be seen.

“Oh no,” Dustin says. “Oh no, no, no. This is not good.”

“Shit,” Lucas says, “shit, ok. So they probably ran for the woods, right? Do we have any weapons?”

“Lucas,” El says.

“Ok, obviously you. But we’re going to have to split up to search for them and the rest of us can’t exactly defend ourselves with our minds.”

Will pops the trunk.

And gets out the bat.

He’d felt kind of ridiculous when he’d made it, carefully hammering nails into the wood until it looked like Steve’s. He hadn’t even practiced with it or anything before he’d put it in the trunk with the first aid kit and the jumper cables and the tire iron: all things he’d hoped he’d never have occasion to use. He’s grateful for it now as he swings it experimentally.

“Dude,” Lucas says.

“Nice,” Max says. She takes the tire iron.

“Let’s go,” Will says.

***

It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that Will is the one who finds them.

It feels right, all things considered. Less Deus Ex Machina and more destiny. 

Eddie is on the ground and Steve is standing over him, arms out, like he can protect him from Jason––Jason who is pointing a gun at Steve's chest, while his three goons are circled around them, watching. 

A gun. God, it’s almost insulting. The very idea that a gun might be the thing to end one of their lives.

Steve’s voice is low and frantic.

And Will is angry.

He knows he should be scared. Maybe he is. But he’s faced far worse that Jason fucking Carver. And when he looks at Jason he sees Lucas’ battered face and Max’s casts. He sees every bully with straight teeth and a letterman jacket that ever shoved him in a hallway.

The hand not holding the bat curls into a fist.

“Hey,” he shouts, and stalks forward.

“Stop right there,” Carver says, swinging around wildly to take aim at him.

“Or what?” 

“Do you not see the gun in my hands?”

“Yeah, you see the bat in mine?”

He keeps walking.

“You think I’m joking?” Carver’s arm is shaking.

“You think shooting me will work?” Will shouts back, heart loud in his ears, but voice shockingly cavalier, “I came back from the dead once, maybe I’ll do it again.”

He keeps walking.

“What the fuck,” one of the guys says, “is that Beyers?”

“Jason,” another one says, “Jason, come on, this isn’t what we talked about. Harrington and now the Beyers kid? You can’t––”

“Shut up,” Carver yells.

Will keeps walking.

He brings his free hand to his mouth and whistles. Loud. Piercing. Something the party had practiced until they all could do it three summers before.

He immediately gets three whistles back.

“Over here!” he shouts. He stops walking just within range of Carver. 

He plants his feet. He taps the bat against the side of one boot.

“You’re about to be outnumbered,” he says.

“Fuck man,” one of the guys says. “I’m out.” And with the sudden departure of one, the rest follow. Including, after a moment, Jason himself. He starts with a few steps backward, then his arm drops to his side and he scrambles into a run.

Steve watches them until they’re out of sight, and then he’s collapsing like a puppet whose strings have been cut, reaching for Eddie as Eddie reaches for him, colliding in a tangle of desperate hands.

“Are you okay?” they demand of each other, and then, after a moment of frantic reassurances, they turn to face Will.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve says, eyes on the bat. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Gee, can’t imagine where he learned it from,” Eddie mutters, spitting blood as they struggle to their feet. Steve doesn’t look to be in much better shape than Eddie but at least his face is mostly unscathed.

“Oh, don’t even try to pin this on me.” Steve wraps one arm around Eddie’s waist to keep him upright and throws out the other to gesture half-heartedly at Will. “Look at him.”

“Well sure, but I don’t go around with a fucking nail-bat in my trunk and I sure as hell don’t provoke people when I’m up against stupid odds unlike some dipshits who have no appreciation for their own mortality.”

“The safety was on,” Will points out. He whistles again. Three whistles back again, this time accompanied by shouting. 

“What?” Eddie says.

“Jason,” Will says. “The gun he was holding. The safety was on. I definitely could have hit him before he could have shot me.”

Eddie lets out a hysterical little laugh. 

He trips on something and nearly takes Steve down with him.

“Whoa, hey.” Steve hoists him back up as Max and Lucas come stumbling through the undergrowth. 

“Oh shit,” Lucas says, “guys, are you ok?”

“Peachy keen,” Eddie warbles.

Steve uses his shirt to wipe blood off Eddie’s upper lip. Will thinks his nose might be broken. 

“Hey, look at me,” Steve says. “How’s your head?”

“Fucked,” Eddie groans. “Probably still better than yours, though, sweetheart. Should change your name to King of Brain Damage.” He blinks blearily at Steve, smiling through pink-stained teeth. “ Or maybe King of pretty eyes.”

“Stop trying to flirt when you’re concussed.”

Dustin crashes into the clearing next, throwing himself at Steve and Eddie and nearly dumping them back onto the ground with his exuberance. 

And then El and Mike are there and Will is handing his bat to Lucas and pulling Eddie’s other arm over his shoulder, nodding to Steve as they move forward.

“Hospital?” He asks.

“No,” Eddie whines between them.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “And we gotta call Hopper to come get pictures and take our statements.”

“Hopper is gonna kill us,” Mike sighs.

“Nah,” Steve says. “But Joyce might kill Jason for pointing a gun at Will.”

“...do we have to tell them that part?” Will asks. 

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Steve says.

Will sighs. 

It’s going to be a long night.

Ten minutes later, they stumble out of the trees and make their way down the quarry rim to the cars. Carver’s truck is gone.

“Will,” Steve says, “you mind driving us?”

Will glances across Eddie’s ducked head to meet Steve’s eyes. “Sure.”

“You’re going to let someone else drive the BMW?” Dustin says incredulously. “You never let anyone else drive the BMW.”

“Special circumstances,” Steve says. “Hey, Sinclair. You got your permit, right?”

Lucas looks like this might be the best day of his life.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Passed with flying colors.”

“Be still my heart,” Eddie croons, “for King Steve cannot bear to be separated from his humble bard.”

“Bard, sure,” Steve mutters, “humble, not so much.”

“You wound me, sire. And on my deathbed too?”

“You’re not dying,” Steve argues, aggrieved. “Hold on.” He opens the back car door and Will helps Steve slide Eddie inside.

“I can sit with him,” Dustin says. “If you still want to drive, I mean.”

“No,” Steve says. “It’s fine.”

“We cannot be parted!” Eddie shouts from inside, “For Lo! Young we are and yet have stood like planted hearts in the great Sun of Love so long (as two fair trees in woodland or in open dale stand utterly entwined and breathe the airs and suck the very light together) that we have become as one, deep rooted in the soil of Life and tangled in the sweet growth!”

“Is that…” Dustin bends, hands on his knees, to frown at Eddie. “Why are you quoting Tolkien’s wedding vows?”

“Boys are so stupid,” Max says. “No offense, Will.”

“None taken,” Will murmurs.

“No offense Will?”” Lucas repeats.

Steve exhales loudly, eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he’s smiling. He crawls into the back seat, pulling Eddie’s head into his lap. He runs his fingers, gentle, through the mess of Eddie’s hair. He smooths his thumb against the quickly swelling curve of his cheekbone.

“Wait,” Lucas says. “Wait, wait, wait. Are they––”

“Uh,” Mike says.

“So stupid,” Max repeats, stooping to pick up Steve’s key’s from the ground. She tosses them to Lucas. “Come on, let’s go. We can deal with your complete inability to see what’s right in front of your faces at the hospital.”

Will agrees. Dustin slides into the passenger seat of Will’s car, still spluttering, as Will is buckling his seatbelt. He starts the engine.

He glances in the rearview mirror just in time to see Steve duck to press his lips to the mangled bridge of Eddie’s nose; to see Eddie’s grin in response.

“Wedding vows, huh,” Steve murmurs.

“I’m concussed,” Eddie says primly, “I’m out of my mind.”

“On that we’re agreed,” Steve says, but he’s looking down at him with such fondness it makes Will feel like a voyeur.

He suppresses a smile of his own and puts the car in drive, turning up the radio over Dustin’s demands for details. 

If he wasn’t before, Will is definitely going to be Eddie’s choice for dungeon master, now. Did Dustin save Eddie’s life by threatening Jason Carver with a nail bat while Jason Carver was pointing a gun at his face? No. No he did not. 

Will did.

Pt. 5 (Tommy Hagan)

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things #myfic #promtps #will byers

[froggy-demon]

Oh, Deer | Part Three

A/N: I'M SORRY FOR THE DELAY I was in a fever writing the first two chapters on my days off, then my doc flipped out and rearranged itself mid edit which was superrrrrr awesome. I believe I fixed it though! I appreciate the support I've been getting so I hope you enjoy this part as well <3 I have to say I'm very excited for what I'm planning for part 4 as well so that one won't take as long I think!

Part Summary: Lilly finds herself curious of what the Radio Demon actually does, but acting on that will come at a cost. Back at work she gets some personal time with the self appointed head of the Vs only to be treated to a home visit from the King of Hell that night.

Part One Part Two | Part Four

______________________________________________________________

Velvette seemed to have cooled off today, allowing me to return to my regularly scheduled assignments, which sure were back breaking, but at least they weren’t soul crushing. On my walk to the hotel from work I found myself thinking about Alastor again, which I’m sure his ego would love to hear. I wanted to figure out what he was really thinking, and he was always off doing his own tasks day and night at such odd times. Sure he’s an overlord, but he doesn’t actually have any territory at the moment besides the hotel I guess. Does entertainment count as a territory? I guess so, but I wouldn’t say he is controlling that yet either. 

So I hatched a little plan of my own. Whenever Alastor left the hotel this evening I would follow him on whatever misadventure he went on, discreetly of course. I’d need to be careful, but I’m struggling to bury my curiosity. At this point I needed answers and Alastor wasn’t exactly offering any up. 

I wanted up the grand steps of the hotel and opened the door, looking across the entry way for any sign of him. He wasn’t around, but Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie were lounging in that parlor so I joined them. Charlie’s eye lit up when she saw me and she rushed over to me, grabbing my shoulders. 

“Oh my gosh there you are! Okay so today and yesterday we focused on learning about boundaries, it was a lesson I had needed as well.” She admitted, giving Angel an apologetic look. “Soooo to catch you up, please, share a boundary with us that is important we that we all respect and we will! Then we can share one of ours and tell each other how that all makes us feel, how does that sound?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Amazing, I know!” She squealed and sat back down on the couch next to Vaggie and I took an empty chair. 

“Okay, uh, a boundary of mine is…I don’t like having my stuff touched, or moved around and besides Niffty’s cleaning which I do appreciate, I really don’t want anyone in my room uninvited, no matter what.” I say and Charlie gives a little round of applause and a proud smile. 

“That is very good to know Lilly! Thank you for sharing! As for me, my boundary is that if you want to talk you just have to tell me!” She says proudly. 

“Babe, that’s not really a boundary, like mine is no one but you can touch my hair. It’s a line that I do not want crossed.”With that Vaggie eyed me and Angel, as if we had been plotting to touch her hair and we both held up our hands to say we are innocent! They wen’t back and forth on exactly what qualifies as a boundary, but out of the Connor of my eye I saw Alastor still through the lobby. I pretended to be preoccupied on my phone, but really I was just watching him. He want over to Husk and told him something and then headed out the front door, cheery as ever. I didn’t want to loose him, but I couldn’t walk out immediately either I counted to five and figured that should be enough time for him to get down the stairs outside. 

“I have to go!” I exclaimed and stood up. I hadn’t really thought of a good excuse to tell them. “I uh, have a headache, I need to step outside for a second” That seemed like enough for Charlie and Vaggie, but Angel gave me a look that said he knows that’s bullshit. I smiled back at the demon, who wouldn’t pry right now, but I know when I get back he will start the interrogation. 

I make my way out of the room and out a side door of the hotel to hopefully be less noticeable. I spot Alastor down the drive leading up to the hotel and start to quietly move closer. It will be easier when we get into the city, if that’s where he’s headed, but here the space is more open. I leapfrog from behind bushes and trees and very convenient garbage cans until we make it to the city blocks. I don’t have to worry as much now, I can blend in with the masses of demons moving around me and all the noise they make. Alastor is still walking up ahead by a good few yards, grin plastered on. I can’t tell where exactly we must be going this time of day. I’ve never actually seen him with a drink in his hand despite employing Husk so it probably isn’t a bar let alone a club, no respectable tailor is open this late, maybe he was meeting someone, but who? We were nearing the Vs’ district, somewhere I didn’t think Alastor had much interest in visiting. Maybe though, he needed to repair something in his radio tower? The best tech is in this district. I saw him begin to turn his head my way and slipped around the corner of a side street, I tried to listen for his footsteps restarting, but it was difficult to pick up such a tiny sound here. I waited a few extra moments and poked my head out ever so slightly. He was further up the street now, excellent, he didn’t notice me. 

I slipped back out of my hiding place and kept my head down catching back up with him a little. Damn were his legs long. I tried to pay attention to what store fronts were up ahead to try and guess if he was going to any of them, but nothing seemed right. Finally he stopped, so I did too, in front of a building and after the tiniest pause a man stepped out, joining Alastor. He was tall and imposing, even over Alastor, but the radio demon didn’t seem worried in the slightest. A massive black cloak enveloped the tall demon and even from here I could see the green glow of his eyes, Zestial. What business did he have with Zestial? They are both overlords, sure, but not even in the same ring of hell and I doubt he is just grabbing an evening tea with someone as powerful as Zestial. I should abandon this plan now. It was going to be one thing if Alastor caught me, but a being like Zestial could snap my neck without even looking in my direction and he wouldn’t be waiting around for me to explain myself. I couldn’t though, this just scratched at that curiosity of mine more. How does Zestial fit into his plans? Is he going to help the hotel? I highly doubt it. Maybe Alastor was just making the rounds though, saying hello to old friends and foes now that he has returned. I couldn’t back down now I just knew that I was getting closer to something. 

They began walking and demons quite literally jumped out of Zestial's way, that was fear that Alastor couldn’t quite inspire himself right now. Maybe that’s why he is meeting with the ancient overlord, he needs to be associated with power like that if he is going to start taking back over territory. The two of them stopped and I pretended to read a flyer that was near me to look inconspicuous, trying to listen to their voices. They spoke hushed, but from where I was standing it sounded friendly all the same. I heard Alastor wish him a merry goodbye and turned on my heels. I didn’t have the chance to see where Alastor had walked Zestial to, but if this was his mission it was now complete and he would start heading my way. I kept my head down as I started walking away, back the way we came trying to walk quickly, but not enough to draw attention to myself. Now I could pick up the sound of Alastor’s steps with his cane behind me, 1-2-click 1-2-click, he was humming to himself, but those fucking long legs were gaining on me. Then I felt someone grab my arm from the side, yanking me hard around the very corner I had hid from Alastor just a few minutes ago. 

I looked up to face my assailant, but I didn’t need to know who it would be, Alastor. He shook his head at me, another  shadow arm wrapped around me and pinned me to the wall. My arms were pinned to my sides with a painful grip and I was raised just high enough for my feet to be off the ground. I thought I knew what I would say to him if he caught me, but now looking at his face I couldn’t think of anything that would make him forgive me. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Very rude to be spying my dear, very rude indeed. Did you really think I didn’t notice? That I couldn’t hear your little steps behind me, feel your wide eyes boring into my back?” He asked getting close to my face. I could feel the heat and anger rolling off of him as he spoke. All I could do was look into his eyes, I wanted to say something, anything, make it my turn to apologize, but I just kept staring like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t move if I wanted to, I just hoped if he had changed his mind, if Angel was wrong about Charlie’s stamp of ‘Do-Not-Kill’ Alastor would be merciful enough to make it quick, but all of hell knew that wasn’t his style. “Nothing to say for yourself now, hm? Not so cool when you’re the one in the hot seat.” He growled, his voice growing heavier with static, like every word was strained to get out. 

“I-“ I struggled to get enough stale air in my lungs to form a sentence. “I’m sorry.” It came out strangled and launched me into a coughing fit. I wanted to say more, to explain, but even the concept sounded stupid and naive. Maybe my dream was a prophecy, maybe in the afterlife I can see the future, and that future is the radio demon tearing me into shreds. I couldn’t tell if it was just my vision getting dark from lack of oxygen or if shadows were really about to swallow me whole, but as useless as the words were with every strangled breath I could manage I just kept repeating the same line. “Alastor, I’m sorry.”

I could still feel that weight on me, the unbridled energy still hung in the air, but I could breathe again, and the disgusting hell air never tasted so good. The shadow arms had dropped me, but Alastor still stood over me burning his eyes into mine. That fear that ran down my spine when I first met him returned, but this time he had earned it. “You ought to be more than sorry, I’ve killed less petulant demons for far less heinous actions.” He cracked, he leaned down to my level, his antlers caging me in place. He dragged one of his sharp talon-like nails down my cheek, just enough for it to sting. I recoiled at the touch. 

“I just,” I knew my answer was stupid, because I’m stupid. “My whole job every single day for all of eternity is to figure out what the hell people want, and to find a way to give it to them. As far as I can tell, all you want is power, I thought maybe there was more to you than that, but I guess I’m wrong. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded.” I heard my voice crack, I hated looking weak even when I absolutely was. “I’m sorry Alastor.” I paused and tried to focus on my breathing. I didn’t want to look back into his eyes, I have no other defense. “I was selfish.” He didn’t respond, but he stood back up. Maybe he just wanted a better view as he killed me, or one last good look at the dumbest soul in hell. 

“You want to know what want, you wish to know what I think? Right now I’m thinking that you seem to cause me a lot of problems and headaches my dear! I think you need to stay. Out. Of. My. Way.” He warned all I could think to do was nod that I understood as he shrank back to his normal state. The energy that had been pounding against me subsided and the ringing in my ears finally dulled. “Good.” He added with a sinister smile. He grabbed my arm and his shadows enveloped us and before I could ask what was happening we were back in the hotel, in the hall before my room, stepping out of the shadows. Or in my case something closer to falling out of the shadows. “I think it best, my dear, if you have any further thoughts to keep them to yourself, that is what I want.” And gives me a nudge towards my bedroom door. I hang my head and simply walk away into my room. 

.

I watched her walk into her room without a glance back my way. Satisfied with that I make my way to my suite, planning how I might hunt my dinner to relieve the stress from tonight. I needed her to not get so involved, if Zestial had noticed her trailing us tonight he would have killed her and then that would be such a mess to explain to Charlie. Back in the street though, her eyes were so impossibly wide looking into mine, she looked utterly and deliciously terrified. It was the only appropriate response to the situation, the way her eyes darted between mine until she couldn’t bear their weight anymore, how I could feel the heat and fear rolling off of her when I backed her against the wall, it was a decadent mixture that I was happy to lap up. It’s not like she hasn’t seen what I’m capable of before, but it was the first time it was directed at her to this extent. I could smell it on her still, even as she had closed her bedroom door, the fear wafting off of her. Good, as it should. When I had her back there she was just another prey for me to hunt, but something in that concoction made me hesitate. Truth is I wanted to like her, I could appreciate feeling chained to a deal you regret, wanting out, freedom, control, your own power and looking for it in anyway possible, but she was making it very difficult despite the small amount of time she actually spent here. Still a part of me enjoyed the way her eyes watched, I do love putting on a performance for such a captive audience. What a pity, she was becoming a distraction, I suppose, every time I heard her giggling with that spider demon, or saw her sitting with Husk of all souls, sometimes just the scent of her after she had just passed by was enough to steal my attention for a moment, I couldn’t stop myself from watching and listening. At other times I could feel her eyes, which held so many questions, on me any time our paths crossed and it made me keenly interested in what she was thinking. I knew she had things she wanted to know and she was smart enough to know that I’m not one to go around spilling secrets, even if she had asked plainly like the night before. As fun as it was keeping her on her toes I did not have as much control over the situation today as I would have liked to because of her. I need to stay on task, disturbances like this were more risk than they were worth so whatever she was thinking she would have to keep to herself. 

.

“Dollface I just heard the end of that conversation and I need details, like fucking yesterday!” Angel said as I let him in, I hushed him until the door was closed and eyed every shadow in my room suspiciously. I hopped onto my bed and motioned for him to join me, trying to decide where to start and if there was a version where I don’t look quite so miserable. 

“I mayyyyy have followed Alastor into the city out of curiosity, since he’s always off to do something, like seriously who is that busy? Anyway, when I did I saw he walking with ZESTIAL and I really should have backed off there, but I didn’t and I should have, but then Zestial left and I tried to get out of there without Alastor knowing, but he totally knew and he kinda attacked me and it was kinda absolutely the stuff of nightmares and I literally think I will be having nightmares for the next month, but basically he said I should never bother him again.” I shpeiled and gave Angel a nervous smile. He looked at me was a mix of ‘what the fuck’ and ‘are you fucking dumb’ and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Listen I figured you were off to get up to some shit earlier, but I didn’t think it was going to be quite that fucking bad!” He gave a little laugh. I hugged my knees to my chest, maybe Alastor would cool off in a while, maybe in a few weeks. He isn’t exactly anyone’s best friend, but I still didn’t want him as an enemy. Angel tapped his chin like he was thinking of what to say next, “Maybe you should focus on rest tonight, I don’t think there’s much to do about it now.” Angel decided and I agreed. He fluffed my pillows and had a big goofy smile on as he motioned dramatically for me to lay down. We shared ‘goodnight’s and he left for his own bed, turning off the lights on his way out. In the dark it felt like the weight I felt when in Alastor’s grip returned, the heaviness on my chest, ringing in my ears. I know it’s just anxiety, but it still messed with my head. I got up in the darkness and slowly found my desk,  turning the lamp on to provide a little escape from the darkness. 

Luckily, no nightmares bothered me tonight it just felt like I fell asleep, and then all the sudden I was opening my eyes and trying to find where my phone was to turn off the damn alarm. I looked for it in the covers and shut off the annoying blaring. Slowly I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I remembered all of the events of yesterday. Awesome. I couldn’t stay in bed long though. I found something suitable enough to wear to work and made my way downstairs. I had just enough time to enjoy a cup of coffee before heading out, which is exactly what I did. I sat myself in the first floor parlor with my steaming hot mug of caffeine, in the comfiest chair in the room. It is not often that the Hotel is quite so still and quiet, but sometimes as I am getting up for work when no one else has stirred yet it was admittedly very nice. 

1-2-click. 1-2-click. 1-2-click.

Maybe this is the nightmare. I pulled my knees up to my chest with my mug on top of them, stealing a glance out of the corner of my eye as he walked past. He didn’t have his trademark smile on, but he didn’t look displeased. It was hard to say though, when he wasn’t being actively provoked. I listened as his steps faded away, off to somewhere else. I sighed and swirled my drink, I shouldn’t let his cold shoulder bother me the way it does, but I can’t help it, I still can’t get him off my mind and alas this is my reality.

All day while I delegate as directed by Velvette, I find my mind slipping away, my body going into autopilot thinking about last night. Terrifying of course, but I also couldn’t get the look in his eyes to go away, like he needed something from me, but there wasn’t that bloodlust in his eyes from the night before. If he could just talk to me plainly this wouldn’t even be a scenario. Or maybe I had just thought about it too much and was distorting my memory. Even when Velvette was talking to me I was only half lucid, just enough to not fuck up. This is why my mind gets me into trouble though, this tunnel vision got me where I am with Alastor I need to snap out of it. 

“Are you even listening to be bitch?” Velvette sneered, one hand on her hip. An aid next to her held a large stack of papers, all annotated with sticky notes and purple pen. Not really. 

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good, now that the marketing team is done with all this disgusting shit bring this to the fucking cunt in his suite, because I know he isn’t doing his job right now and he’s been dodging me all fucking day!” She ordered and the aid handed the large stack of papers to me. I looked down at the top one to see exactly what it was, scripts? On closer inspection they were definitely for Valentino, Vox would never let most of this on normal television. 

“Yes Ma’am.” I repeated and she sauntered away from me. I headed to the elevator since I knew it would be the easiest way to get this increasingly heavy stack all the way upstairs. I pressed the button that would take me up to Valentino’s suit with a single non-loadbearing pinky finger and took a deep breath. I put on a small pleasant smile and braced myself. Always a joy, right? When the elevator dinged I thought the suite might be empty since I couldn’t see or hear anyone right away, but then I realized I could hear two faint voices talking a room over. Thank god they were only talking. I walked a little further into the space trying to decide if I should try to give them to Valentino directly or if I could just leave them in a table for him to discover later. If I did the latter he would never look at them though, and even if I do hand them directly to him the chances are still slim.  As the sound of my heels echoed on the stone floor while I thought I failed to notice that the voices had stopped. 

“Who the fuck is it? I’m not expecting any whores right now.” Valentino’s voice rang out, followed shortly by the man himself. He looked annoyed, but that wasn’t unusual, with a cigarette in hand, taking a long drag after the question. 

“Mr. Valentino, uh, Sir. Velvette asked me to bring up these scripts to you. Where would you like them?” I asked, looking around the pile in my arms. The tall demon rolled his eyes, clearly he was hoping for a better surprise. He walked over to picked up the top script and flipped through the pages, bored by the task and then fixed his eyes on me, blowing a ring of red smoke into my face and smiling. 

“The real question is where do I want you?” I felt light headed for a moment, I even thought I might drop the stack, but I kept my balance. He circled, taking his time, watching me like a hawk does its prey, but I kept my eyes forward. “Velvette sure does like using you as her little errand girl,” he took another drag of the cigarette, looking down at me. “Maybe she wouldn’t mind if I used you in another way.” Another puff of smoke was blown my way. My senses felt dull, it felt like there was no more background noise, I only knew I was even still holding the scripts because I could see them, and it felt like a fight to keep my eyes and thoughts in focus. There was something to this smoke, clearly, at this point I just need to set these down. Then my job is done and I can be on my way. 

“Val, baby, what whore are you fucking that’s taking so long?”  The second voice I had heard when I first walked in asked smoothly, joining us in the main room of the suite. It felt like I was on a processing delay as I shifted my eyes over to identify the voice, Vox. “Ah, Vel’s pet, how nice of you to drop by! And with the scripts I’ve been telling her we needed back for two days,” he let a twinge of irritation creep into his voice and his eye slightly twitched, “Splendid! Thank you so much for bringing those up!” 

That sounded like my cue, but Valentino stopped and placed his hands on my shoulders behind me, locking me in place. “You know my Angel Dust was just saying how well aquatinted you two had become over at the princessa’s hotel.” Valentino phrased it like he was talking to me, but really I could tell it was for Vox who quite literally lit up at the mention of the hotel.  

“Why don’t you take a seat? Set down these lousy papers here,” Vox motioned to the coffee table and I did just that and then sat down on an ornate couch next to it, my body seemed to be one step ahead of my brain. “Tell me,” Vox looked down at me and when I didn’t immediately meet his gaze, he lifted my head to do so. His eyes were wide and entrancing in the moment, I felt far away again, it was hypnotizing to look at. “What do you know about my old friend Al?” His voice was laced with feedback, I was faintly aware of Valentino’s hands running over my silhouette while he sat next to me with a grin. For some reason I felt compelled to answer the media giant in front of me, like I couldn’t not tell him whatever he asked of me. 

“He.. he’s haunting. His temper has been short. I honestly don’t know much else about him, but I saw him with Zestial yesterday in the city. I don’t know what they were talking about, but they both looked content at the end.” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Vox stepped back, breaking my trance when he looked away and I felt everything come back into focus. My whole body tensed once I processed my situation making Valentino let out a low laugh. I knew Velvette knew this was too long to be gone and right now I would take her screaming at me over this a million times over. “Mr. Vox, sir, is there anything else you need from me? I’m positive I’m expected back soon by Ms. Velvette.” I managed to sound far more calm than I felt, clenching my hands in my lap. 

“Oh I need-“

“Yes, that is okay, go scurry back to work,”  Vox cut Valentino’s coming harassment off. “Thank you so much for your time sweetheart and hey,” He looked me in the eyes again and that wave of numb washed back over me. “Let’s keep our little chat between just us alright?” And I could feel my head bob up and down in a nod. Before I knew it I was standing back inside the elevator heading back to work when everything came back into focus. My only solace was that I really didn’t know anything too important to reveal anyway, I mean with the amount of surveillance of the territory I would be surprised if that was actually new information at all. Still, I hated myself for it. Even if Alastor and I aren’t in good terms I’m not one to betray confidentiality and if I had known anything more I would have regretted that moment for the rest of my miserable afterlife. 

The rest of my workday passed without fuss or fanfare so it didn’t feel like quite so long until I was set back towards the hotel, I was dragging my feet the entire way. I wanted to go upstairs and curl up and just let the time tick past me, but that would disappoint Charlie so much and while redemption was on the back burner for me it wasn’t out of the picture and I really  wanted to live up to Charlie’s expectations. 

Walking into the lobby Charlie flags me down to join a group activity, apparently acting out some scenarios she has written out so we can pick the virtuous option. Sir. Pentious and Angel go first and while Angel is dragging his feet Sir. Pentious gets really into it. Even with some of the most corny writing I’ve ever heard he puts on a beautiful performance. 

1-2-click. 1-2-click. 1-2-click.

I can’t stop myself from tracking Alastor with my eyes as he comes into to talk to Charlie and dances around her. Their conversation is light and joking but watching his eyes now he is not happy. I force myself to busy my mind with something else, it’s none of my business how he may be feeling, I slip out my phone and shoot Cherri a text letting her know I miss her but I am in good hands. While Charlie is distracted Vaggie pipes up.

“Alrighty, Husk and Lilly it’s your turn to act some out. Angel and Sir. Pentious, excellent work please take a seat.” 

“I’ll be the bad guy.” Husk volunteered, though he did not sound excited by it. Angel handed his script to Husk and stole his seat. 

“I’m sure you have some useful experience as a bad, bad boy, Husk.” Angel teased, fluttering his fingers at the winged demon who only huffed back as he stood in the center of the room. Sir. Pentious passed his script to me with a bright smile and I gave a gentle smile back as I took it, thanking him. 

We acted out a short cheesy scene where ‘Husk’ encouraged ‘me’ to skip class to go shoplifting at the mall. ‘I’ refused, exclaiming the importance of academics and that shoplifting was actually bad. ‘I’ then professed my intent to serve my community as best I can and to never do drugs. The room erupted in more applause and I smiled at my scene partner. 

“Amazing performance Husk you really stole the show from me!” I laughed, earning a smile for the normally grumpy demon. 

“I had one line.” He pointed out flatly as we sat on the floor in front of the couch that Angel and Sir. Pentious we’re on. While looking at Husk from here it took all of my willpower to not shift my eyes up to the demon who was still chittering away with Charlie a foot behind him. 

“And yet!” I leaned into the theatrics and fainted, falling across Husk dramatically putting the back of my hand to my forehead like I once saw in a moving picture. “You captured my heart with it!” I played it up as I looked up at Husk and we burst out laughing. 

“Yeah kid I can really tell.” He quips at me. I steal a glance at Alastor as I sit back up and while he still sounds to be engrossed in his conversation his eyes are trained on me. For just half a second we hold each other's gaze, blink and you miss it, but then his eyes returned to Charlie and he bid her goodbye for the time being. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in as Alastor’s footsteps disappeared.

“Okay guys I’m going to get some stuff ready for my Dad coming over tonight, Lily you haven’t gotten to meet him, obviously, but he will love you I’m certain!” Vaggie gave Charlie a soft smile and Charlie squealed with excitement. Lucifer is coming here? I mean I know Charlie is his daughter and everything, but still, meeting the King of Hell was a big deal! 

“Hopefully Mr. Hothead can keep his fucking cool today..” Angel said motioning to the direction Alastor had walked away to. Husk let out a deep laugh from his chest and Charlie let out a nervous giggle, neither of them seemed to think that would happen.

“Yeah, good luck with that!” Husk added between laughs. Interesting, what is Alastor’s beef with Lucifer? If I were him I would want to butter up the most powerful being in all of hell not actively antagonize him. As much as he doesn’t want people to know it, clearly his emotions steer him sometimes. I was suddenly growing self conscious at the reality of meeting Lucifer himself. No one else seemed terribly worried about it, maybe the anxiety wears off after the first time. I won’t know until I meet him a second time. I sat up a little straighter, is my outfit okay for the occasion? No one else was rushing off to change so I guess I don’t need to worry about dress code. Thoughts raced through my mind until Angel pinched my arm. 

“Aye, babe, don’t worry. He’s a big goofball.” Angel reassured me, earning a couple of small snickers at ‘big goofball’ from the rest of the group. Still, when I heard a knock at the front door a few minutes later I jumped to my feet. Luckily Charlie had managed to convince Alastor to pretty up the place a bit more than normal before Lucifer’s arrival. Vaggie ushered all all into the lobby, save Alastor, to greet the King as Charlie opened the door. 

“There’s my little girl!” The Angel burst through the door and bear hugged his daughter, who looked to have at least a foot on him height wise. She laughed and hugged him back. 

“Hey dad!” She sang as they broke apart. Both of them were smiling ear to ear. That’s cool, totally not jealous, totally cool. “Dad you remember everyone! Angel, Husk, Sir. Pentious, Niffty, and new we have a new guest!” She motioned my way and Lucifer turned to look at me, I held my breath, hands clasped in front of me. 

“Well Hello! Charlie didn’t mention having a new guest, I would have worn my better tie!” He chuckled and I smiled back, but was caught off guard when he picked up my hand and left a gentle kiss on my knuckles, looking up at me from his half lidded eyes. “Your name was?” He asked not letting go of my hand. I almost forgot to respond as I tried not to blush, he was an absolute gentleman, I told him maybe a little bit more softly than was appropriate. “Pleased to meet you Lilly.” He said flirtatiously and then gave a slightly nervous chuckle, gently releasing my hand. “I’m Lucifer, I guess you already know that because I’m Charlie’s dad!” So that’s where her nervous tick comes from. 

“My, my is that how you greet a lady?” Alastor appeared next to us making Lucifer flinch. His eye twitched as he looked at the demon, nearly twice his height, grinning down at him. 

“Right, because you would know!” Lucifer retorted sarcasm lacing his words. He looked like he was struggling to keep his cool whereas Alastor was straight up having fun. 

Alastor looked at me with a devilish look in his eyes, taking my other hand in his. “I’m honored by your company this evening my dear.” He gave a gentle bow as he brought my knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them. He ran his thumb over my hand, oddly gentle for him. His other hand found my waist and he placed another slow kiss on my hand. “You look lovely.” 

The feeling of his hand on my torso was electric, practically burning through my clothes. I know he is just showing off for Lucifer, wanting to look like the better version of, but still I felt completely exposed in this position. Even my ears felt hot at this point as I heard Alastor give a low chuckle and release me. 

“A little forward for my taste, you wouldn’t want to overwhelm the beautiful lady like that.” Lucifer said sounding annoyed at the display. He leaned oh his cane out in front of him and gave Alastor a dry smile. 

“I’ve never had any problems with the approach.” Alastor also sounded tense, but his smile was as wide as ever while he mimicked the angel’s stance. 

“I doubt you’ve tried it enough to really find out.” Lucifer shot back.

“I assure you I’ve never had someone walk out after.” Alastor said with a sarcastic laugh, jabbing at the disappearance of Lilith. Lucifer bared his teeth at the demon, daring him to go on. 

“Maybe we should take a minute to have some tea!” I tried to nervously interject, but I might have well been offering tea to a brick wall.

“Oh, my Dear! You play coy, but we were awfully close just the other night,” he teased. I could feel my face again grow hot at his insinuation and I swear on my death that I saw husk and Angel sharing a popcorn bag as they slowly inched away from the corner of my eye. “Oh I only play!” He added, but this whole time he still hadn’t looked at me. 

“Alastor.” I hissed sharply. A warning. I did not appreciate him butting in and using me as an excuse to pick a fight or score cheap points against Lucifer. 

“I think you ought to apologize to the lady, you certainly seem to be rude company from where I’m standing.” Lucifer shot back and Alastor’s smile curled particularly unnatural as his eye has a dim glow to them, a look that said he won, he knew exactly how to win this argument from and was relishing in it, in getting the upper hand on THE king of hell, fallen Angel, divine creation, Lucifer. Even if it was a petty quarrel. He leaned down ever so slightly, still over the shorter man’s head. 

“Her eyes disagree, I rather think she enjoys my company based on who she has been watching.” He hissed out through his teeth. Lucifer looked at me and I had to pull my eyes off Alastor to return the glance. I felt humiliated. He was right, I was of course focused on him right now just like every time I saw him, even with fucking Lucifer standing next to him. 

“Alastor.” It came out soft and small, more than a whisper but it lacked the confidence of real speech. 

“I think some tea might be a good idea.” Vaggie said pointedly to the two. Alastor and Lucifer were still staring each other down though. 

“Daaaaaaaaaaadddddd” Charlie groaned, finally snapping him back into reality, he sent me a kind smile and then walked back to his daughter. 

“Sorry sweetheart, what can I say, old habits die hard am I right? Now you said you had some kind of flow chart drawn up to show me? Or was it a cork board?” He asked and she lit back up. Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer left for Charlie’s office where she did much of her planning for the hotel. 

We were alone together again, this time it was my turn to walk away. 

•

I had heard the filthy Angel’s teasing of Lilly from across the hotel and when I saw him bring her hand to his lips something in my gut turned. Stepping out into the scene, seeing the bright crimson spread across her face by just looking at him disgusted me. I could smell the attraction on her, but I also watched her focus shift off of the divine creature and onto me as we went back and worth. Knowing that even here with most powerful creature she may ever meet those eyes still latched into me, that was gratifying. The feeling of power it lent me was intoxicating, something I have been lacking. This time I won, I had the advantage, I have something over the king of hell. Even if that is just the attention of a doe eyed sinner, I basked in the victory. But as I did I noticed the expression on her face, a light blush still dusted her cheeks which contrasted the lost look in her eyes as her mouth pulled into a decided frown. Now those eyes were cast to the ground. 

“What is wrong with you?” She asked quietly, if we hadn’t been the only two left in the room I would have wondered if it had even been directed my way. Her hands began fiddling with the material at the hem of her shirt, smoothing out minor creases with her thumbs absentmindedly. 

“Come now, just a bit of light teasing! The elder Morningstar is never serious with his courting anyway, no real loss.” I told her, keeping my voice light. I was right, he’s known to flirt on the rare occasions he has been out of his house in the last seven years, but the abandonment from his ex wife seems to have crippled his ability to do anything more. Yet I could still smell a hint of attraction, and some combination of shame and anger, on her. 

“Goodnight Alastor.” Was all she said, walking away from me. What a pity, she’s so fun to play with, even when she doesn’t want to respond her eyes and her scent betray her. Some part of me deep within me wanted her to stay, or the feeling her gaze gave me to stay, but I had a late night broadcast to perform and I wouldn’t want to leave my audience waiting. 

Part Four

______________________________________________________________

tags: @aperfectidiot @aleeeeeeees-stuff

#hazbin hotel #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfic #radio demon #slow burn #alastor fanfiction

[fantasylandloser]

Protector

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Idk Reader saves JJ

Warnings: gun, gun shot, fight, JJ thinking he doesn't deserve to be protected

A/N: Was thinking about this when I woke up

******

JJ was a protector to the pogues. It was one of the things you loved liked about him. That protective trait only multiplied when he got that gun, but it was always there. When you first met him and the other pogues you didn’t talk much, and you didn’t stand up for yourself either. So, when JJ saw Rafe harassing you at a party you both were working at, he promptly spilled an entire pitcher of water on Rafe. Then he grabbed your hand and ran. You both lost your jobs but it didn't really matter, because that was the first time you felt like you were in safe hands. He’d been your best friend since then.

But because JJ was always protecting everyone it didn’t really seem like he had anyone protecting him. Even though he was the one that needed it the most. 

So when that fight broke out at the movie night and Kie had jumped on Topper to save Pope, and you saw that JJ was alone, struggling to breathe, something in you snapped. You hated guns, swore to yourself that you would never touch one, but you picked up his like it was second nature. You don’t remember shooting it, you don’t even hear the loud curses or Rafe saying that you would pay for that. You just remembered JJ panting to get air back in his lungs, a dumbfounded look on his face as he made his way to you.

You didn’t realize you were shaking, not until JJ took the gun from you, tucking it into his shorts and whispering that it's okay. You remember the look in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe that you would do that for him. But then Kie screamed for the two of you to come on, so he grabbed your still shaking hand and the two of you took off behind them.

It had been about two days since then and JJ was being weird. You kept catching him staring at you. Or he would just linger around you and you could tell he had something he wanted to say and you wish more than anything that he would just say it. 

You were never one for confrontation but this was JJ. You needed to know what he was thinking and why he was acting so strange, so when he went outside to smoke you followed him out, much to your nervousness.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask sitting beside him, legs dangling off the porch. 

JJ blew smoke out his mouth letting a small grin settle. “I got no thoughts when I’m with this girl.” He says gesturing to the joint. He tries to laugh at his little joke, trying to be casual but you see through it.

“What happened to no secrets between pogues?” You ask softly, knowing it was his favorite rule to use against you, when you wouldn’t open up about something. He chuckled softly at you parroting him but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You don’t like guns.” He states. You’re a bit confused but you nod in agreement. “I don’t.” 

“You actually hate them. You don’t want to be around them. You didn’t even want to touch it when I first got it.” He tells you. You knew all that though. 

“Right.” You agree again, unsure of where this was going.

“So, why?” He’s looking at you now, his eyes all soft and confused.

“Why, what?” You ask. Confusion muddling your thoughts now too.

“You know what. Why did you save me from Rafe? He wouldn’t have actually killed me. We all know that.” He tells you, but you definitely did not know that, because in the moment that seemed like exactly what he was trying to do. 

“How is that even a question JJ?” You ask, sounding and looking appalled and almost sad that he asked. “You weren’t breathing.” You ignored the way your voice cracked. “You’re always protecting us, and putting yourself on the line. We see that.” You reassure him. “I’d rather die before I didn’t do the same.”

JJ didn’t like the sound of that. But he also loved it. “Look, I’m gonna be in the cut for the rest of my life, but you guys have a chance to be something-’” You had heard this from him before and you didn’t like it.

“You don’t get to blow your life saving us all the time, and then not expect us to do the same.” You interrupt. “At the very least  you should expect me to do the same. ‘Cause I will, at every turn.” 

JJ is holding back tears now. You see it, but you don’t point it out. “I’m supposed to protect you.” He says, his voice rising slightly out of frustration.

“And someone is supposed to protect you too. Lucky for you, you get me.” You intertwine your fingers with his. “For life. Okay?” You tell him.

His grasp on your fingers tighten and he looks away from you. You see a tear slip but you still don’t point it out. “For life.” He whispers back. 

#fantasylandloserfic #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #obx fic #obx pogues #obx x reader #outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst

[mrsaltieri-real]

I Can Be Sweet (Mickey Altieri x GN!Reader)

Word count: 1.5k

Warning/s: GN!Reader (no specified pronouns, Mickey uses the pet names baby and babe) fluffy fluff fluff, language, nudity, Mickey being soft, (yes it’s a warning) the L bomb gets dropped, romantic shit, Mickey being a terrible cook, Mickey still somehow being a little shit, etc

I’ve had a really, REALLY shit week so I wrote this as like a little soothing thing for myself and anyone else whose having a crappy week. I just needed to comfort myself by writing something like this. I’ve got good friends that have helped me through my stuff this week (you know who you are) and I wanted to say a big thank you.

Anyway, here’s a fluffy Mickey fic because sometimes we need our murder boys sweet.

You knew him better than almost anyone.

Even though you didn’t know about his… extra curricular activities, you knew Mickey.

He was cocky, sarcastic and most of the time a complete ass because that’s simply all he’d ever been. He never allowed anyone to get too close to him in fear they’d disappear like everybody else. He was a performer, an artist. A master of deception and only letting people see what he wanted them too. But once you broke through that hard shell and got to the soft centre, there was a whole different side to him.

Mickey was… sweet, he was romantic and passionate yet remained surrounded by his defensive coating until he finally trusted you enough for you to see it.

After a particularly exhausting day of serving booze to the drunk college assholes in the on campus bar you worked in to make extra money so you could live in an apartment by yourself to avoid having to share a dorm room, you walked toward your door, head pounding and feet aching. You wanted nothing more than to shower and go to sleep in preparation for what would undoubtedly be another shitty day tomorrow.

You rummaged in your bag for your keys but paused for a second outside your door, furrowing your eyebrows when you heard soft music and dishes clanking together. Had someone broken in? Fuck, that was just what you needed.

You pressed your ear to the door to try and hear a little better when you heard a familiar soft humming rendition of the current song playing on your speakers and all the paranoia faded away in an instant, calmly unlocking the door and walking inside.

Mickey was flitting around your tiny kitchen like a hurricane, trying to do far too many things at once.

“Oh, fuck me.” He cussed as he lifted the lid to one of the pots on the stove, grimacing at whatever horrible sight he’d concocted.

“Mick?”

He jumped a little, head snapping in your direction.

“Hey! Hi, you're back!” His cheeks were slightly flushed and his shirt had splatters of food spotted over the light blue material and you raised your eyebrows a little.

“Yeah, there was another fight in the bar. Shit got broken so we decided to close… what are you doing here?” An amused expression crossed your face as Mickey continued to move around the kitchen as you spoke, clearly growing more and more frustrated.

“You uh.. you said the other day you were having a rough week so I thought I’d TRY to do something nice for you. But I… yeah. I can’t cook.” He admitted sheepishly.

As he spoke you dropped your bag on the floor by the door and walked over to him, touched by his effort. “Yeah, I can see that.” You teased, gesturing toward the pots and pans completely wrecked with the burnt food coating the bottom of them. “But thank you, that’s really sweet.”

He shrugged, waving you off with his hand but you caught it, pulling him close to you. “I mean it.” You said softly and he smiled down at you, looking a little bashful.

“Sorry ‘bout your cooking shit.” He said, eyes narrowing at the ruined pans. You laughed a little, shaking your head at him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Probably was due to get some new ones anyway.” You let go of his hand and walked around him to turn off the stove and grabbed a garbage bag, dumping the pots and pans inside. “I’ll throw them out and buy some new ones tomorrow.”

“Oh, I did do one thing right!”

You tied the bag, placing it down before looking at him.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He grinned at you, gesturing for you to follow him as he left the kitchen and walked down the hall to your bathroom. You followed him sceptically, unsure of whatever the hell he had awaiting you but was taken aback when you entered your bathroom after him to see he’d run you a beautiful bubble bath, candles scattered around the whole room with your favourite song playing softly on your other pair of speakers. Whatever he’d used in the bath smelt of honeysuckle and lavender, the smells oddly complimenting each other.

Mickey dipped his hand in the bath before smiling proudly to himself and turning to face you. “I might be a shit cook but I can run a mean fucking bath.”

You didn’t respond, staring at the bubbles until they blurred into fuzzy white spots, a tear falling down your cheek. “Hey, hey, hey! Why are you crying?” Mickey’s voice sounded alarmed as he moved in front of you, his hand automatically reaching forward to wipe the fallen tears.

“I… no one’s ever done anything like this for me.” You felt slightly pathetic for crying, trying to move your head so Mickey wouldn’t see your face but he held your cheeks in his hand, beautiful face soft and affectionate.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was gonna make you cry, baby.” He still looked a little anxious, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“No! No, these are happy tears.” You assured him, sniffling a little. His hands dropped from your face and slid down your arms, seeming at least a little comforted as he said, “still.”

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up on your toes so you could bury your face into the crook of his neck. He let out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around you, hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades and burrowing his face into your messy hair.

“You stink.” He mumbled into it making you laugh and pull back, playfully smacking his arm.

“Yeah genius, I work in a college bar of course I stink.”

“Want me to help you?” He gestured toward the bath before his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, a broad smile on his beautiful face as you nodded eagerly.

“Lift your arms.”

You obeyed, raising your arms above your head so he could pull your shirt off of you, placing it carefully on top of your laundry basket. His hands moved down to your jeans, popping the button open and pulling down the zipper slowly, smirking a little at your soft shiver when his warm fingers made contact with your skin. “Easy babe, we’re just taking a bath.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly nudging his hands away so you could remove your jeans along with your underwear, turning to toss them on top of your shirt.

When you turned back round Mickey was already naked and your eyes automatically dropped to his package before quickly diverting away, making him laugh again.

“Giggly prick.” You muttered as he climbed into the bubbly water, opening his arms out for you to climb in in front of him.

You took his hand, sighing happily at the perfectly warm water before you sat down between his legs, head resting back against his shoulder. He leaned forward, picking up your washcloth and dipping it into the water and wringing it out a little before he smoothed it over your chest, his head resting softly against yours.

“You’re being very sweet tonight.” You said softly, hearing his breathy laugh in your ear.

“You sound surprised. I can be sweet.” He defended himself in mock offence.

“I know, but never like this.”

It was quiet for a moment as Mickey continued to gently wash your aching body. The warm water in combination with his hot body was relaxing your tight muscles in a way that almost had you floppy in his arms.

“Am I really that bad?“ he murmured into your ear.

You frowned a little, lifting and turning your head so you were looking at him. “I didn’t mean it like-“

“No, no it’s okay. I know how I can be sometimes, and I guess in addition to me doing this because you’ve had a bad week it’s also to show you how much I care about you.”

You leaned up a little so you could press your lips to his cheek softly before sinking back into his arms, head leaning back again against his shoulder and your eyes fluttered closed.

“There’s also another reason.”

“Mm?“ you hummed absentmindedly. You felt his heart rate pick up and his breathing hitch ever so slightly as he swallowed, as if he was terrified of whatever he was about to say.

“I uh…” he sighed, face burrowing even further into your shoulder. “I love you.” He mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by your skin.

You froze for a moment, trying to comprehend what he had just said. “Y- you what?” You twisted around so his head moved off your shoulder and he was forced to look at you.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face and you struggled to turn all the way round to face him in the bath, and he laughed as he gripped your elbow to help you. “Steady, steady.” He said softly.

“You love me?” You whisper once you are facing him. You were straddling him, knees either side of his thighs and your hands resting on his chest while his rested on your hips under the water as you looked into his eyes, trying and failing to stop the tears from welling up again.

He bobbed his head once and even in the dim light of the flickering candles you saw his cheeks flush slightly.

“You don’t have to say it back!” He suddenly said quickly. “Please don’t feel like you have to say it b-“

“I love you too.”

A relieved sigh came out of Mickey’s mouth and his lips turned up into a devastatingly beautiful smile. “Thank fucking god.” He whispered, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.

#i needed to write this for me #i feel ✨soothed✨ #i love him so much #my favourite lil guy #EVER #scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri fluff #mickey altieri x you #slasher x reader

[miley1442111]

gone forever- b.barnes

a/n: i didn't imagine a fem or male reader, imagine what you like :) also this is sad. like really fucking sad for no reason.

summary: thanos won but your bucky is still alive, right?

pairing: buckybarnes x reader

warnings: general marvel topics, mind control, fighting, mentions of battles, reader being seen as 'dangerous', general angst, illusions to suicide, feelings of unworthiness.

“It’s day 22. We run out of oxygen in the morning. Hi Buck,” you managed a soft smile for the helmet taping your last moments. “I just wanted to say a few things before I… y’know. I love you Buck. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything. You made me feel like a person again. You made me feel again. God, I really hope you’re alive, and that you see this. I don’t know what I’d do if I knew you weren’t alive. If there’s anyone who deserves to live it's you Buck. I’ve loved you for so long, it’s just second nature,” you let out a chuckle. “Apparently I’ve been saying your name in my sleep, so take that as flattering or weird, your choice. I wish things were different,” you sighed. “Y’know, when I got these powers… I thought I could change the world. Then I realised I’d be changing the world to stop dangerous people like me, that I’d need to not be… here. Then you came. Then you got to me before I fucking… well, y’know. And I realised that power doesn’t always mean you’re dangerous. And that if I could control it, I could help people. I could help people change the world. And that was all thanks to you Buck. My Bucky. My James. I love you honey. Never stop helping people, for me? I’ll see you in the stars,” you turned off the helmet and looked at Tony, he nodded. “Thank you Tony.”

“No problem, kid,” he sighed. “Too bad we're dying, we should’ve played that at your wedding.”

You huffed out a chuckle and twisted the ring on your left finger. Bucky had been so nervous, terrified of your rejection. But you said yes. You would’ve always said yes to him. 

“Get some rest,” He sighed. “We’ll be out for a long time.”

“You’re a good person Tony. You’re a really great person.”

“So are you,” he smiled softly. “Night kid.”

“Night Stark.”

You didn’t mind the name, despite being almost 100. You looked 20 so it made sense. You turned over and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off to a peaceful, and eternal rest. Your powers were unique, while they were the same as Wanda’s, you were far more powerful, and you could control people, simply by telling them what to do. All of your efforts against Thanos hadn’t worked. He was too powerful with the time stone. 

A bright light wakes you, blinding you as you open your eyes. A woman? You didn’t know. She flew you home, touching down outside the avengers compound. You stumbled out, helping Tony. No sign of Bucky. You looked at Steve, tears in your eyes and he shook his head. 

Your Bucky was gone. 

Gone forever. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #steve rogers #captain america #marvel mcu #mcu #mcuedit #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #captain america civil war #marvel fanfic #marvel comics #marvel heroes

[mysoftboybensolo]

Dirtyhands and his Songbird

Ever since I saw @macncheeseass-blog​ post about wanting a soft Kaz x Reader enjoying domestic bliss, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Plus, I have been listening to Halle’s gorgeous voice in The Little Mermaid soundtrack, and a story formed from it. This is also my first Kaz x Reader fic, so please be kind.

Kaz Brekker, known in Ketterdam as Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel, a man whose heart was as cold as his eyes, was an unmovable and unfeeling man, so said everyone in Ketterdam. Was there nothing or anyone who was able to reach his cold heart? Everyone would have answered, no, there was nothing and no one. But they were wrong.

She was a secret to all in Ketterdam, not even the crows knew about her, and Kaz wanted to keep it that way, safer for her. He hadn’t been looking for her, in fact, if things didn’t go as wrong as they had, he would have never met her, but sometimes, he was glad that it did. It was a few years ago when Kaz was following a lead regarding a merchant, leading him outside of the city, where the peaceful glens lay and quiet was undisturbed. Kaz usually calculated things perfectly but he hadn’t expected an ambush, and he barely made it out alive, with the thugs being dead or near dead. He had to find shelter, somewhere to heal, and he stumbled with his cane helping him stay up, and before he black out, he saw a small cottage, reaching for the door.

The injuries would have had him at death’s door if left unattended, but there was someone who had been there to help. Between unconsciousness and awake, Kaz swore he heard singing, a voice unlike any he had ever heard, so lovely and pure, that it pulled him through the fog of pain and back into the clearness of consciousness. Slowly coming to, he found that he was laying on a couch, a bandage wrapped around his chest, and a face of someone who had knelt beside him, tending to the wound on his forehead. She was lit by the sunlight behind her, and her voice softly harmonizing, continuing her work to help him.

She had been careful with him, and he did not find a reason to recoil from her touch. Instead, he had felt a sense of calm and peace, one he hadn’t had in a long time. When he had fully come to, he had asked her where he was, and she simply replied they were in her home. Her speaking voice was just as lovely as her singing, calm and beautiful. She told him that he had knocked at her door, and she helped him in once she saw how he was badly injured, that his injuries would require him to rest for a few days. Kaz knew he couldn’t stay here, but when he tried to get up, a sharp pain radiated through him, knocking him back down onto the couch, breathing heavily.

“Please,” she said, “You must rest, you have broken ribs and if you move around too much, it can puncture your lung and you will die. If a healer lived around here, I’d have them here in a heartbeat, but as there isn’t one, you need to rest like everyone else.”

“I have to go,” he grunted out, the pain slowly easing, “I have people who will wonder where I am.”

The young woman thought for a moment, then went to her desk and pulled out paper and a pen. “Here, you can write a letter to them, explaining that there is nothing to worry about. The postman comes around in the morning and goes into the city by the afternoon.”

Kaz looked at her suspiciously. “How did you know I am from the city?”

“Your clothes,” she says quite obviously, “It is too nice for country folk, and too dark. I promise, your letter will reach your friends.”

Kaz agreed, writing the letter and careful to not let the woman see the contents, before sealing it and giving it to her. The letter was brief and obscure, simply stating that he took shelter and will be away for a while, that he’ll keep them posted if anything happens. They must have gotten it because no one came around trying to look for him, and he was able to rest in as much peace as possible, given the pain as well as the anxiety of wanting to get back to make sure things haven’t gone straight to hell at the club.

But as much as he was anxious to get back, he also found himself enjoying the company of the young songbird, whose touch was gentle and always avoiding his skin, much to Kaz’s silent delight. What he didn’t know was that while she was tending to him, he spoke unknowingly, calling for Jordie, breathlessly wondering why his skin was so cold and clammy. It didn’t take much for her to understand that he had an aversion of skin from this, and spoke nothing of it, not wishing for him to feel embarrassed at this fact having been unknowingly given. Instead, she treated Kaz like a frighten animal, allowing him to come to her and share whatever he wanted, which at first was not much. He said his name was Kaz, just Kaz, and for the time he was with her, that was all he was. He wasn’t a criminal, he wasn’t a boss, he wasn’t someone who could pretend to not care as much as he did, he was simply Kaz.

A hard lesson Kaz had learned as a boy was that everyone had another side to them, that things are not always what they seem, so with her he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, to see when the not so sweet side of her would come out, but as much as he waited and observed, he saw no fakeness with her, just truth. He couldn’t understand why he felt at ease with her, why he could let his guard down enough that he could smile with her, that he’s trust her to take care of him, to laugh at her jokes and share whatever small pieces of his life with her.

A few days had turned into a week and a half, and still Kaz was recovering in her home. He had started to become accustomed to her ways; getting up early to tend to her animals, then making breakfast, singing as she did her chores, and at every half hour she’d poke her head in to see if he needed anything, if the pain was bearable, before going back to finish her chores. No matter where she was, he could hear her voice, singing for her own pleasure, not caring who heard. He once asked her why she never considered singing in a club or theatre, no doubt becoming a hit with the masses, but she replied that she had stage fright and could never sing in front of people she didn’t know.

“You don’t know me,” he countered.

“You are different. I don’t know why, but you are.”

A broken rib would have taken about three to six weeks to heal, but it was luck that a healer, who was passing by to visit family and knew the young woman, was kind enough to help their friend and do this favor. While Kaz was grateful to be able to move and go back to work, he also found that he was sorry to go and leave behind this kind woman. “My door is open to you whenever you wish to visit, and I do hope that you will.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I will see,” he answered, not wishing to give her too much hope, but also not wanting to crush her hopes. It was a difficult situation that he was now in; on one hand, he should never return, never risk the chance of her getting hurt, or himself for that matter. But on the other hand, no one had to know about her, ensuring her safety, it would be a good excuse to escape the city life, and-damn him for thinking this- he’d miss her too much if he stayed away too long.

He lasted only two weeks before the urge to see her again became too much. In his dreams he could hear her song, calling to him like a siren, and despite his efforts to fight it, even having a few close calls, he finally broke down and went to see her. He told the crows that he was following another lead, that he could be gone for the weekend, and he made his journey back to her cottage. It was exactly as it had been before, peacefully quiet, the flowers by her fence in bloom, and the sound of her singing echoing from wherever she was. His heart clenched when he saw her smile, clearly happy to see him again, and he hated to admit it, but he was glad.

She had the guest room ready for him, made him lunch and tea that had spread through him with a warmth like a hug. “How long may I have you?”

“A weekend, if that is alright.”

“More than alright,” she replied with a wide smile.

For the first time in a long time, Kaz had been able to sleep peacefully, dreams of Jordie hadn’t plagued him as much as they did in the city, the space was much more open so there was no chance of accidentally bumping into someone and the water washing over him. His songbird even had made him an ointment to help his ache in his leg, which had helped him, especially on the days where he was on his feet for so long. She insisted that he didn’t need to help around her home, but he wouldn’t hear of it, mostly because he hated to see her work so hard while he sat and waited for her and helping her had brought out the memories of him as a boy on his family’s farm, coming back to him like a second nature.

The evenings had been the best for him, for she would talk, share how she was an only child and that from illness her parents had left her alone in the world, how she didn’t mind the solitude sometimes, but others, well, let’s say she was glad Kaz turned up at her doorstep. Under the clear and starry sky, Kaz found he was opening up to her, even if it was slowly, but nevertheless, he shared more with her willingly than he had with any other person. She listened and accepted, and as much as Kaz was glad that she wasn’t turning him out, he feared the day when he’d tell her the worst things he has done, that perhaps, someone was good and pure as her would not want to be with someone who had blood on his hands. That perhaps she wouldn’t want a broken man who could barely stand to have his bare hands even brush against another’s hand.

The weekend went by all too quick for Kaz, and it had broken his heart to see the sorrow on his songbird’s face, wondering when she would see him again. Quit her, the voice of Dirtyhands spoke in his mind, quit her like a drug, quit now before it becomes dangerous, before you become a danger to her. “I will see when I can come back, but I cannot make any guarantees.” It was a feeble promise, it could be easily broken or easily kept, the ball was in Kaz’s court, all she had to do was wait.

It was the same every time; Kaz would tell himself to forget her, stay away, but then he’d remember and dream of her face, her touch, but most especially, her voice, and then he’d find himself right back at her place. Weekends turned to weeks, and then, to avoid the growing suspicion of his crows, he would only stop by in the evenings when he would not be working. And each time, his songbird was overjoyed that he had returned to her, somehow always afraid that something terrible would happen. She understood from day one that Kaz was no innocent, that his business often included making shady deals and doing dirty deeds, but he never exploited innocent people, never harmed those who didn’t have it coming to them. He called himself a monster, but she saw him as a necessary monster, and maybe Ketterdam called him Dirtyhands, maybe they saw him as cold and unmovable, but she knew the truth. He was Kaz Rietveld, the boy from a farm, the boy who had nightmares, the boy who craved love and intimacy even if his body shouted no. Dirtyhands belonged to Ketterdam, Kaz Brekker belonged to the Crow Club, but Kaz, just Kaz, belonged to only her.

It was hard to believe that a year had passed since he had met his savior, his songbird, the feeling of disbelief always hitting him in the morning when he woke before her, seeing her peaceful and beautiful face near his. She had been wonderfully patient and kind, helping him to overcome his aversion to touch, and though they have not moved forward as much as Kaz would have liked to, he was proud of himself for being able to sleep in the same bed with her and not have to worry about their skins touching on the middle of the night, that he can reach out to her and brush her cheek with his thumb. He made so much progress in a span of a year, he can make even better progress in the year to come.

“Good morning,” her voice hummed softly, still sleepy.

“Good morning,” he replied, his arm reaching over to lay against her hip. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm hmm,” she murmured against his chest, burrowing herself closer to him. “Don’t want to get up.”

He huffed out a laugh, “That’s alright, neither do I.”

“Then stay,” she sighed, knowing that he would leave for work, “Stay a little longer, stay with me.”

Kaz was always punctual when it came to things, he never liked to be late of he could help it, but he had to admit, the feeling of her body so close, warm, and alive next to his, and to do it without feeling like he was drowning, how could he not take advantage of this moment and stay in her arms a bit longer? He’ll just explain that there was a lead that he had to follow right away or traffic, anything that would explain his late arrival.

They spent another hour in bed, before leisurely getting up to have a cozy breakfast, the scent of warm waffles hung in the air, tea softly waking them up, and the ever beautiful sound of her voice as she sang about the kitchen. It was like being a boy on the farm again, where everything seemed so peaceful, happy, and feeling so loved. He loved her, and she had often told him how she loved him, though how he couldn’t understand why, and they had lived out this wonderful life together, free from the expectations of the world, free from the hauntings of their past. She kissed him before she sat beside him on the window seat, looking out into the golden morning, the flowers gently swaying as a cool breeze blew across the sky, and birds singing their song in a nearby tree.

To anyone from Ketterdam, they would be shocked by the domestic image, Dirtyhands and his Songbird. But to anyone else, especially the couple inside the cottage, she was just a simple farm girl, and Kaz was just Kaz. And it was a wonderful feeling that he wouldn’t trade for all the world.

Tagging: @thedelusionreaderbitch​ @ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes​ @babyblue-chaos​ 

#shadow and bone #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #fanfiction #kaz brekker x reader

[skinnyducky]

not yours, but mine // v.h.

a/n these two worked well together so i just combined them into one request. i was very inspired by “the nanny” for this so there’s some elements from that here. uhm, other than that.. hope you enjoy. i found some time in between my load to write so, i thought i’d put something out.

vinnie hacker x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k, edited

WARNING: language, jelly vinnie, and i think that’s it.

---------

Being the house manager of the Hype House was a task for Y/n. Quite honestly, she felt more like a babysitter than she did anything else. Whether it was getting juice boxes for Jack or tending to Mia’s emotional needs, she was dedicated to her job. But hey, she couldn’t complain. She had a room, gained some followers, and met her boyfriend, Vinnie, here. What more could a young girl like her ask for?

Her hard work didn’t go unnoticed though. Thomas, the head of the house, had been keeping his eyes on her. The way she cared for not only the house but the brand and everyone else showed how dedicated and passionate she was about her job. So, what better way to show his gratitude than to surprise her with none other than her celebrity crush, Jack Harlow? After pulling a few strings, making a few calls, and running through some numbers, he managed to persuade the rapper to come visit. He kept this hidden from any and everyone, not wanting his friends to spoil the surprise—especially considering he wanted to use this for a bit in his upcoming video.

So, when the day came for the surprise to be unveiled, he was on edge. He and the rest of the house sat in the kitchen, Y/n sitting at the table folding Vinnie’s laundry while everyone was scattered around. They listened with close ears as Y/n told them a story about one of her uncles who liked to impersonate Madonna.

"He’s a class act, I’m telling you." She smiled, twirling a pair of Vinnie’s underwear on her finger. "The second he puts on that blonde wig and that cone bra, it’s like a complete transformation." And as she went on to reminisce about the many performances he put on at family events, Thomas found himself tuning her out.

He couldn’t help it. He was far too excited to listen to anything right now. At any moment, Jack would be arriving, and he couldn’t wait to see Y/n’s reaction. He stared blankly at her, resting against the counter with his phone in one hand and his camera in the other. Little did anyone know, he was currently in the middle of recording. He had to be ready in order to capture the moment.

After a few minutes, he felt his phone vibrate. Glancing down at the device, he nearly passed out when he saw the message on his screen.

“Outside," was all it said.

He quickly replied with "Knock on the door," and waited patiently, a smug grin on his face. Seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

Y/n paused, dropping Vinnie’s pants back into the basket before getting up from her seat. "You guys expecting anyone?" She asked, slowly creeping towards the door. Everyone shook their heads. "Did Eamon say he was coming by?" She questioned Vinnie, earning a shrug in response.

Thomas grew anxious, holding his camera up as they neared the door. "Why don’t you open it?"

The girl stared at him, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "You’re so weird." She stepped up to the door, her housemates standing a few feet behind her, with Thomas in the front. He was on the verge of screaming as her hand touched the doorknob and twisted it.

When she opened the door, Y/n couldn’t believe who she saw on the other side. It was Louisville’s very own Jack Harlow. He looked up and down at her figure before meeting her eyes. He flashed one of his flirtatious smirks as he rubbed the hair on his chin. "What’s up?" He greeted.

Y/n was speechless; she had forgotten how to speak. Hell, she forgot how to move. Whatever control she had over her body was completely gone. The girl was stunned. "I-I…um."

"Can I come in?" The curly-haired boy chuckled.

It was then that Y/n came back to reality and stepped aside. "O-Oh, yeah, of course." As he stepped inside the home, she tried her best to figure out what the hell he was doing here. As far as she knew, no one in the house was friends with him. She was sure none of them had had a conversation with him either. I mean, she did go to one of his concerts with Vinnie and their friends, but that was it. There was no contact whatsoever. So…why the hell was he here.

It wasn’t until Thomas waved the camera in her face that she caught on. "Surprise, Y/n!" he laughed.

"Thomas, what the hell!?" She shrieked. "Why?"

"You’ve done a lot for us, Y/n, and saying thank you is not enough. I know how much you love Jack Harlow, so I decided to get him out here and surprise you." Thomas explained.

Y/n couldn’t help but let a tear fall as she pulled the beefy man into a hug. "Thomas! Thank you!" she exclaimed. Pulling back from the hug, she turned to Jack. "I am such a huge fan!"

"I could say the same."

Y/n nearly fainted at his words. "Wait, what?"

"I see you in a few TikToks," he said. "You cute…or whatever."

Y/n’s cheeks were burning, hot enough to melt an ice cube. She couldn’t believe it. Jack Harlow knew who she was? That thought alone was crazy.

"You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking."

Jack merely shook his head. "Nah, I could never joke about seeing someone as pretty as you."

That was it, that did it. Y/n squealed, flinging herself into Jack’s arms. While everyone cooed and snapped pictures of the moment, there was a certain someone who didn’t find the moment as cute. Vinnie stood at the back of the group, a scowl on his face as he stared daggers at Jack. There’s no way he’s seen Y/n on TikTok. If he had, he would’ve known she had a boyfriend…him. Their relationship wasn’t private, and that was made perfectly clear. Was he actually flirting with Y/n or was this just an average fan encounter for him? Whatever it was, Vinnie didn’t like it, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

For the remainder of the day, Jack and Y/n spent the majority of the time together. They chatted, shared some laughs, and hugged a couple of times—far more than Vinnie would’ve liked. And each time they gazed into each other’s eyes, Vinnie felt his jealousy grow stronger. Y/n often told him that he had nothing to worry about. That he shouldn’t feel threatened by other guys because she was committed to him. But at this moment, her words just seem like mumbo jumbo. Statements made solely to make him feel better. God, he was going to be on Thomas’ head for this.

When night fell over Los Angeles, Jack made his departure. But, before he left, he made sure to leave Y/n with something. Not a souvenir—no keychain or hoodie—as Vinnie would’ve hoped. Instead, it was a kiss on the cheek. A kiss that made Y/n weak in the knees. And as she fumbled to shut the door, Vinnie rolled his eyes.

"Are you done?" His tone, while comedic, had sass all over it. While it went unnoticed by others, that wasn’t the case with Y/n.

"What?" She asked, retreating to the kitchen with Vinnie following behind her. "What are you talking about?"

He scoffed, "Don’t play dumb with me, Y/n."

"Babe, I literally don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, I’m babe now. The second he leaves, you finally acknowledge me as your boyfriend. Whoop-de-fucking-do."

Y/n tried to hold it in. She tried to conceal it. But seeing Vinnie like this, freaking out over nothing, she couldn’t contain it. Her laugh began filling the kitchen, loud enough to wake up the entire state of California. "Are you serious, Vinnie?"

"Yes, I’m dead serious."

"You’ve got to be kidding me right now." Y/n wiped a stray tear from her eye. "There’s no way you’re jealous right now. No, no…there’s no reason for you to be jealous right now."

Vinnie, once again, rolled his eyes. "You were all over him, Y/n. He was all over you. What do you expect me to feel?"

"Vinnie, he’s my celebrity crush. Keywords being celebrity crush."

"And?"

"And that’s all it is," stated Y/n. She could barely look at Vinnie, too afraid she might cackle the second she laid eyes on him. So, she just kept her eyes focused on the carrots she was chopping up to prep for tomorrow’s meal. "Sure, Jack is cute and sweet and absolutely adorable. He’s Jack Harlow. And yes, I do admire him. But that doesn’t mean I want to date him. Well, not exactly."

"Y/n!"

Y/n stopped chopping and set the knife down beside her. She gained some composure and looked over at her irritated boyfriend, who was ready to pop like a pimple. "What I’m trying to get at is that while I like Jack, I don’t love him. I mean, I do, but I don’t love him like I love you."

She watched as Vinnie’s shoulders dropped slightly, the red in his face fading away. "What happened between me and Jack today is simply just a fan-and-artist interaction, nothing more. I don’t want him, Vinnie. I want you. As I've told you before, you have nothing to worry about. No one has my eye more than you."

"You mean that?" Vinnie had done a full 180, going from berserker to puppy in minutes.

"Every word. I love you, Vinnie."

The boy found himself smiling as he walked over to his girlfriend. "I love you too." He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. As she continued cutting up some carrots, she was oblivious to the fact that Vinnie had pulled out his phone and began recording a TikTok of the two of them. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked straight into the camera before placing a kiss on her neck.

Once the short video was over, he captioned it, "not yours, but mine," letting people know that she was exclusively his.

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tag list: @barbietiingz​ @tvdsure​ @suqarszn​

#vinnie #vinnie imagine #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x you #vincent hacker #vhackerr #tiktok imagine

[candiedspit]

when I was lucid

Tomas fucked like a girl. 

This was disappointing. I wanted him to wrap his muscles–pink, buoyant muscles–around me until I disappeared. I wanted to make use of my legs. But he mewled like a kitten and hardly touched me. 

Am I hurting you? He asked every few seconds. 

No, I said and said. 

A cigarette was still burning on the nightstand. The sunlight outside waned like a feeling. When he finished, he rolled off of me and I got up to get dressed. 

I’ve gotta go, I said, snagging my coat on. 

And left him with his vapors and dirty skin. 

There was a cab outside waiting for me. Life was like this, one magic act. I yawned and a man offered me champagne. Things appeared. I did my lipstick in the backseat, caught the driver looking at me in the rearview mirror. 

What? I asked, popping my lips. 

He didn’t say anything. I rolled my eyes. He left me at my family’s restaurant where I met the rest of the boogaloos. I entered through the back door, smelling of sex and strawberry perfume. I liked making scenes. Another reason Tomas disappointed me–no bruises to coat with foundation, no angered calls from my brothers. I’m the youngest in our family; the only girl, too. This allows me many advantages. Everyone treats me as though I’m made of glass. 

Where you been, dope? Nick asked. 

I had four older brothers and Nick was the closest to me in age. He had spent his recent twenty fifth birthday in the white gallows of Hawaii, dodging waterfalls. I was twenty years old. It was only the brothers there. Dad was working. I never knew what that meant, though there were hints. All that really mattered was his mood when he came home. Sometimes, he went to his office and drank. Nothing could stir him, his misery like a furnace heating the entire house. Other times, he came home bearing gifts, stories and quick cracks at everyone. He was a laser beam. I take after him in some respects. For example, my beautiful, long nose. And my green, slanted eyes. I’m also a natural depressive. Prone to fits, slamming doors, refusing to eat for days. Once, I told a shrink I feel like as empty as a clock. He told me everybody feels like that. 

Not like me, I told him. Not like me. 

I was with Tomas, I told Nick as I took a seat at the table. 

It was quiet. Robin, Frank and my oldest brother Jonathan fiddled with their fingers, sniffling. I made a face. 

What is this? I asked. A fucking funeral parlor? What’s going on?

Dad lost a bet, Jonathan said. A big one.

Shit, I said. What do we do?

Not you. Nick said. But we’ve got till this evening to get it sorted. 

I was never allowed out on any ventures. This upset me. I could handle anything the boys could. A little blood. A little guts. It didn’t bother me much. I had a strong stomach. 

There’s a cab coming for you, Robin said. Just stay at the house. 

Can’t we play a game first? I asked. I loved beating them at cards, the dimwits. 

No time, Jonathan said. 

I got up and grabbed a soda from the fridge before heading towards the door. 

Be safe, I said. 

Always. 

I never knew what time it was. It was probably around one in the morning when the boys came back with dad. I’d spent the afternoon watching TV with mom while she did my nails. Dad was furious, cursing anyone that came to mind; Mickey Mouse, God, Judy Dame. As Nick slinked upstairs, I caught his arm. His shirt was rimmed with what I knew was blood. 

Are you okay? I asked. 

He nodded. I kissed his cheek and let him go. 

I wasn’t in school. I filled my time with house parties, dungeons, anything that sparkled. That weekend, I was in the basement with Katie-Marie, a girl I’ve known since we were four. I didn’t have many friends. But I had good ones, the ones I had. Katie-Marie was wonderful to be around. I could tell her anything. Most of the time, I complained about Tomas. 

Let go of him, Katie-Marie said. He’s nothing but a pain. Not worth the time. 

I’m compelled, I said. There’s something about him I can’t get enough of. 

Katie-Marie did another line, I followed suit and laid back down on the couch, drank some soda. I often imagined burning my nose off; sulfur and love confessions. I listened to Katie-Marie sing along to some girl pop band until I felt as though someone had thrown me into the electric chair except I was innocent. All of my nerves were on high alert. I fluttered my eyes, seeing the faint image of a lamb on the ceiling. There was a cosmic rhinestone in the very center of my forehead. I could feel every one of my thoughts like arrows shot from the other side. I laughed and laughed, couldn’t tell when I wasn’t laughing. Katie-Marie kissed my cheek. I licked her palm. I began speaking. 

Are we not the damndest? Are we not the ones? I could drink my youth from a shot glass. It’s going to rain. I’m the first horse who realized he can run. And I’m running and I’m never stopping. I’m a cunt. I’m Daddy. He thinks he’s so big, I’m bigger. 

I looked over at Katie-Marie. 

He thinks he’s big but I’m bigger, I said over and over. 

I have this dream, I found myself telling Tomas. That dud, dull sparkler; magic amulet with no power within it. I didn’t like him. How many times could I rap at his door? A shift, I expected him to be someone else every time. The person I loved. And each time, it was only him in his boy shorts, grease king, cigarette burns in the blankets, ashtrays on the carpet, the scent of a life lived far too long. It had been four days since we’d seen each other; I’d spent the time crying, masturbating and crying, punching his number into the phone and then chickening out. He looked at me, rubbed my cheek with his bandaged thumb. 

What do you dream? He asked. 

I’m Christ at the table. And the skies are made of lace, there are gingerbread cookies, rugs made of skin, a thousand diamonds, an itch in my teeth. A cock between my hands. Psalms rising and falling beneath my eyelids. I am the son of God. I am going to be betrayed by the phony who loves me as the wind loves to tickle the trees. I am going to die for you. 

I pointed towards the ceiling. 

But for the moment, I am full of wine, singing drunk. And the colors explode. Someone is speaking. A beautiful woman with her breasts exposed. And I hear the sound of what comes next. I hear the crackle of electricity; lightning bolts, rashes of rain pissing from above. I hear a hundred languages, babbling over one another like threads in a wicker basket, streams of fish. I hear a thumping, a grinding, ecstatic horsepower. I see the black coughs of genocide. I see Americans on the street, hiding from a wall of ash. I see America. 

You’re insane, he said as though astonished. Absolutely insane. 

It was a Tuesday evening. I was at the restaurant with Nick, playing cards. The other boys were upstairs, running dishes, cleaning tables. Outside, I could hear the fantastic drip of rain. I beat Nick at cards for the third time in a row. 

You’re letting me win, I complained. 

He laughed. 

I’m really that bad, he said. That’s the truth. 

It got quiet as I got up to get another soda, one for me and one for him. I cracked open the can and sat back down. Nick was looking at me. 

Julia, he said. 

I looked at him. He never called me by my name. 

 Why don’t you get away from here? You could. Dad would pay for school, somewhere upstate. You could leave all this shit behind. It’s not good for you to be in the periphery of what we do. Why don’t you? 

I looked at his hands, a cross tattooed on his wrist. I loved him like a mother does, like a knife.

Why don't you go fuck yourself? I asked. And said nothing else.

I set up another card game. And let him win.

#a girl is in a mobster esque family #might continue this but it felt natural to end here for now #my poetry #fiction

[sweetiesshortstories]

Imagine if the lights you saw dancing in the sky weren’t satellites, or a trick of reflections. What if those lights saw you watching in awe, and came back night after night just to see you? And if those lights that some called UFO’s, spaceships, alien visitors, did happen to hold beings, and one of those beings wanted to see you, would you want to see them back?

2600 word count

˜”°•.˜”°• If Stars Could Love •°”˜.•°”˜

I don’t know when they started, and I can’t recall when I first saw them. The lights in the sky. They started off far away over the mountains, and I would sit outside on the deck in the darkness just to watch. I didn’t want to record them, or upload them online, I didn’t want anyone to know; I wanted them to remain mine. A moment in the day that felt like peace. While my roommate slept, and while the world held no expectations for me, I could sit and watch a dance of stars.

I almost missed them after covering someone else’s shift. I was exhausted when I got home. My roommate and her boyfriend were kind enough to save me some of their dinner and after I ate, I fell asleep. Instantly.

When I awoke, I grabbed my phone and hissed a "shit". It was 2:37a. With sleep still in my eyes I fumbled from my bed, fighting with my blankets as they held on tightly. Once I pulled the sliding glass door open and stepped into the cold night, I saw the sky above the mountains, empty. My heart sank and it filled my stomach with pain. I turned to go back inside when over my shoulder a flicker caught my attention.

A singular light. Closer than I had ever seen. It glowed a faint pink, or purple. It swirled between hues and I was hypnotized.

My body felt electrified, my skin prickled, my heart fluttered, and I couldn’t catch my breath. My body was so warm despite the time of year and my lack of heavy clothing and shoes, the light filled me. The response from my body was foreign, and confusing. I should have been scared, that would’ve been normal.

But I was…enamored.

Full of excitement and want. Like an energy had invaded me and made a home deep inside to gain control. My body was humming with hunger, responding to touches I couldn't see the source of. My breasts felt heavier, my nipples ached, and I was painfully aware of the pulsing between my legs. The light grew brighter, and brighter, swallowing the world around me until it was only me lost in the brightness. The outline of the trees, the mountain line, the stars, all gone. The prickling on my skin had turned into a steady buzz emanating from my body, and my breathing quickened, my knees began to tremble until something inside of me erupted. A sound escaped my throat, and everything faded.

When I awoke, hours had passed. The sun was high in the sky and my roommate, Taylor was crouched over me with her forehead wrinkled in concern.

“What the hell happened? Are you ok?” She leaned back to give me room as I sat myself up, squinting my eyes against the morning light. Sweat peppered my forehead from the sun.

“I—I fell asleep after I ate, I guess.” I wiped my hand over my forehead and pushed my hair back before taking a deep breath and letting my shoulders fall.

I noticed her boyfriend on the deck, his brows also stitched in concern.

“Richard! What did you put in the spaghetti last night?” Taylor demanded as she stood and crossed her arms.

“Whoa!” He lifted his palms. “I put normal spaghetti shit in it. You think I’d try to poison us? Really?”

“Hey,” I pulled myself to my knees and gripped the wooden railing. “Guys I’m fine. Really! I fell asleep after working a double.”

“Did you remember to check her allergy list? We have to be careful when we share what we make with her.” Taylor pushed. Richie nodded and bent at the waist to help me stand. Taylor quickly rushed to my other side, and I couldn’t help but to laugh at them.

Once standing upright i flapped my hands at them.

“Seriously! I’m fine, dinner was so delicious it put me in a food coma. Work just…” I wrinkled my nose and walked inside the air conditioned home; Taylor and Richie followed, shutting the door behind them.

I made a fresh pot of coffee while we hung out in the kitchen and Taylor went over my allergies, in detail, again, to poor Richie.

He looked over at me as I pulled mugs from the cabinet, and I mouthed an apology. He smiled warmly and fixed his eyes, full of love and adoration, on Taylor. I filled our mugs.

My chest felt tight witnessing their love. As I poured coffee, my mind drifted off to my early morning and the angelic light.

Could it have been the same lights I had watched for weeks? Or was I just crazy? Losing my grip on reality. I glanced over at Taylor and Richie and observed how in sync they were with one another. A proposal would be coming soon. And while I was happy for them, I couldn’t help but to be sad for me.

How would I afford this place alone? Would I still see Taylor? Was I imagining an orgasmic extraterrestrial light because I masturbated too much, and my closest friend was happily monogamous? If I did imagine it, how did it feel so real?

Even standing in the kitchen clasping my hot mug of coffee, I could feel it. The heat and the electricity that had filled my essence. How could it be fake?

I didn't gain any clarity in the following days.

That night after I showered, I crawled under my thick comforter, promising myself I would dress and go outside. I wouldn't miss the lights, my lights. But at some point, I drifted off into a sleep and when I woke, I couldn't move.

I was stuck in a sleep paralysis, barely able to control my eyes. I tried to focus on the pictures on the walls, my dresser, but my lids were so heavy. In the corner I saw a shadow, a tall form, the darkness stretched to the ceiling. I wanted to panic. I felt it begin in my chest, but it faded almost immediately, and I felt the warm electricity from the night before.

The very same.

Even though it was only the second time I had felt it, it was already so familiar. My mind quieted and I immediately gave in. I was floating. I was alive. Every strand of hair on my head felt charged, I could feel touches swirling through the rivets of my fingerprints. I felt sensations on places I had never imagined. And just when I hit a stage of immense ecstasy, they were gone.

Night after night the shadow came to me, and I was unable to go to it.

Until I decided I had enough. I would catch this shadow. The shadow that came from the light.

I didn't know where to begin, but I did know how to be sneaky. That night, I stuffed clothes under my comforter and rearranged my pillows, then I hid myself in the closet. But...I woke up in my bed the next morning. I did it again, this time drinking coffee and energy drinks. Still, I ended up. In. My. Bed. I had about given up on catching the shadow, when another idea intruded into my mind. A dangerous idea. But I had to know for myself, this wasn't fake. That it was all real and I wasn't imagining a connection.

It was Friday and I had managed to get out of work on time, without being guilted into staying later. Taylor stayed at Richie's, and I had our quaint 2-bedroom home myself. I was nervous, I had been since I had come up with the idea. I was playing with fire thinking I could predict an unknown beings' reactions and response. But that didn't stop me.

I waited until 2:30a.

Living in the mountains not only meant a lack of neighbors but also a lack of light. When there was a new moon there was no chance of seeing anything at all. And on the deck, that's what I was greeted with. An intense, pitch, blackness. Slowly, the stars in the sky began to show as my eyes adjusted to the dark, and eagerly I waited, and stared.

A star glinted, catching my attention. It glimmered, and grew, and grew, bigger, brighter. Colors bgan to appear within the star, swirling. My breath caught and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the light, the same light. I couldn't waste the moment. I wanted to bask in the warmth, the peace, the bliss, but it seemed like this light could never get away from me fast enough. Though it liked me enough to keep coming back...

I swallowed and placed my hand on the wall that the railing was connected to, and quickly I set one foot up and pushed myself a top. It wasn't hard to balance on the railing, even as the light grew brighter, blinding me. My heart thudded, painfully. My ribs were thrumming, and my body was tense with trepidation. I heard a sound, deep, like a machine. It groaned out to me, almost as if it were upset. I didn't care.

I moved my hand from the wall and let both of my arms hang at my sides. A cool wind blew through my hair, and I lifted my face to the light.

"You'll have to catch me if you don't want me to die." And I stepped off. Without hesitation, before I could lose my nerve.

It was stupid. Dumb. Not at all a thought-out plan. I couldn't see the ground through the blinding light, but I knew the impact was coming and even in that moment I didn't regret it. Because I would have done anything for an answer.

I felt the same warmth I had grown accustomed to and become addicted to. It wasn't feathering inside of me, it was solid on the surface. I was blinded by a stark white light, an almost painful brightness that burned my eyes and brought forth tears. For the first time I could touch something solid in the light and I moved my hands desperately searching for a place to hold on. To keep whatever, whoever it was, with me until I opened my eyes. But it was as if I was hugging a wall of stone! There were no curves or edges I could grab, wrap around.

"Lift thy gaze to me." A voice spoke. A voice as deep as thunder but as soft as music. The light was still blinding me, I squinted and covered my eyes when gradually the light softened.

My mind wanted my heart to race but it held calm. Swallowing, I moved my hands from my face and looked down at my legs and the surface I sat on. I blinked to clear my vision, because I had to be mistaken.

"Your boldness is no more?"

I looked around and saw a picturesque landscape, with lush grass, flowers in colors I had never seen, and a sky that held the stars while cradling the sun. And looking at me, were eyes that were so green they could've been yellow, and they were framed by thick, ink black lashes. Only, I sat in their hand, no bigger than a hamster. Their face was glowing in a way I could hardly process. I had never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying.

I wanted to speak, anything, but my body was frozen.

"You dare me to unveil my form yet now find yourself speechless."

I was. So speechless. Dumbfoundedly speechless and I was hating myself more and more every second because of it.

"Wh--Who are you?" I managed to fumble. They rose a brow.

"You can call to me as Dio." His words rippled through me, and I felt a haze blanketing me. I felt a change underneath me and when I looked, I was taking up more space in his hand. I touched my abdomen and trailed down to my legs, as if it would tell me something.

"Am I growing?"

"Acclimating. You gave me little time to respond so your perception had no time to adjust." He could have been scolding me but all I heard was music. Something soft, sweet, it was magical.

His hand went from cradling me, to cupping me, as I grew. I felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole. But he said it was only my perception...?

Even with my perception righted I was still dwarfed in this world, surrounded by trees the size of mountains and flowers larger than my hands. Dio towered before me, still glowing like an apparition.

"What are you doing to me?" I didn't know how else to phrase it, I just wanted an answer. I wanted every answer.

"I touch you not." He lifted his hands and bells sounded, it was clinking of chains and charms. He was elaborately clothed in white, jewels hung over a bare chest, black hair entwined in gold cascaded over his shoulders. My hand rested on my stomach where flutters began.

"This feeling. I'm so calm." My voice was a whisper and my legs felt weak. The tension in my shoulders and neck evaporated and I felt loose.

"You could never sleep, I merely assisted." His eyes looked over me, with a curiosity cloaked in care.

"How? What did you do that made me fall asleep? That made me..." I stopped myself, unable to say it aloud.

"I read poetry."

"Poe-" I tilted my head as a puzzle began to piece together. "Poetry, ecstasy...this haze." I lifted my hand and watched it blur with motion. "Dionysus? The god of wine, poetry, ecstasy and pleasure."

"Those are my people, yes!" He sounded amused but also pleased with me. I was even more enamored, pulled under his spell. "At one time we were known as pleasure Gods, that was many rotations ago for your realm."

It was so much information, more than I knew what to do with. People? That were pleasure gods? I blindly felt behind me for support, knowing my body was losing balance. I felt my legs give and simultaneously felt an arm across my lower back. I gasped as my chest came into contact with a sturdy form and my cheeks rested against the cold metal of his jewelry.

"Give yourself time to adjust, Human. This isn't your realm." He spoke into my hair and his breath was warm, my body molded to his, relaxed and unafraid.

"I didn't hear your poetry. I never heard anything." I spoke against him, rambled more like it. I wasn't even sure I was making any sense. He kept his arm at my lower back and with his other I felt him stroke my hair from crown all the way down my back.

"Sound doesn't travel through the portals, but lights do. I sent you lights with my poems."

My eyes were growing heavy, but I didn't want them to. I didn't want to leave. I knew if I closed my eyes, I wouldn't see him when I opened them again. I grabbed onto him, I clung at his shoulders and pushed myself into him.

"Don't send me back. Not yet." I wrapped my arms around him and brushed my lips against his neck as I plead. "How will I call for you again? How will you hear me? I can't leave yet, not yet." I was so tired, losing the world around me, losing my grip on him.

"Call to the stars Astraeus, and I will hear you in every sphere."

I was slipping, his voice was fading. I cupped his face and pressed my lips to his, desperate to leave with the feel of him. To know more than what I felt from the lights.

I don't know if he kissed me back.

But when I woke in my room, to my white walls and floral curtains, his voice echoed in my mind like a whisper:

Human women are indeed the universes sweetest verboten.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ To Be Continued… ♥

#monster lover #exophelia #alien boyfriend #monster fucker #to be continued #alien smut #alien lover #dark romantica #kinktober #smut writing #smut with plot

[bbygirlpascal]

Just Being Neighborly (Joel Miller (played by Pedro Pascal) x Fem Reader)

18+ NSFW: Please don't interact with my account/posts if you are under 18.

Note: I'm picturing Pedro's Joel Miller (obvi).

Summary: Newly moved into the neighborhood, you and your neighbor from across the street, Joel, become...friendly. :)

Saturday’s were your favorite day of the week. Getting to sit out on your porch and watch the birds and bugs fly by in the warm air, pure bliss. You sat there almost in a daze, enjoying the quiet of the neighborhood and sipping on your cocktail. The familiar sound of Joel’s truck coming down the street grabbed your attention.

Ever since you moved in a couple months ago, you and Joel are either outside at the same time, or you both end up running into each other somehow. He pulled into his driveway giving you a wave out of the truck window as he turned in. You could see Sarah in the back with her headphones in, in her own little world and you smiled to yourself.

“Hi neighbor,” Joel said with a smile and walked his way over to your porch, resting his arms on the top of the railing in front of you. “What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“Oh you know, just working. Keeping the dog busy and keeping myself busy, or at least trying to,” you said with a smile. “How’s Sarah?” you asked him, glancing over at her walking into the house across the street.

“She’s doing good, been working really hard at school,” he said and smiled, “Do you need someone up here to keep you company? I've got nothing going on today.”

You were taken aback, but squealing on the inside. “Of course, I’d love some company. Come on in, I’ll fix you something to drink.”

You padded into the house, and Joel came in behind you. “I’m drinking an old fashioned, you want one?” he looked up at you and a hint of surprise was across his face.

“A girl after my own heart. Yes, please,” he said, “You know, if you need any help in the house here, let me know. I can help you out with whatever you need.”

“I appreciate that, you work in construction right?”

“Mhm, been working in construction for as long as I’ve been able to work.”

“Admirable, I feel like I jump around from job to job all the time.” you said as you poured the ingredients into his glass, “Always looking for something new and exciting I guess,” you huffed and turned around towards him with his drink in hand. “For you, Mr. Miller,” you said with a smile.

He brought the glass up to his mouth and took a sip, “Exceptional, thank you darlin’,” he said and you felt your tummy flutter.

You both made your way out to the porch and sat down. You both chatted for a long time and Sarah eventually came over to let Joel know her friends would be there soon to pick her up for a sleepover. They came and she went. It started to get dark, and the conversation subdued a little, and a comfortable silence fell upon the porch. You were both drinking and you could feel it.

“I want to thank you for coming over here tonight, it’s been really nice talking with you,” you told him, looking down at your glass and up at his face.

“Don’t have to thank me, I’ve been crushin’ on you since the day you moved in,” he said.

“Oh have you? I haven’t quite gotten the memo,” you laughed and looked at him, his eyes softened.

“Ahh, you know, I’m a man of few words and didn’t want to scare you off. Y’know having a daughter and all.”

“That would never put me off, and anyone who would dismiss you because of that are missing out. Plus Sarah is great, you did good with her.”

He looked up at you with a smile, “How would you feel about me kissing you?” he said.

“I’d love that.”

He leaned into you and your lips locked. He tasted like liquor and smelled like clean laundry and musk. You wrapped your arms around his neck and scooted closer to him, your knees touching his. His hands started to explore your body, snaking around your waist, pulling you in even closer. He traveled his kisses down your neck and to your collarbones. You let out a breath as shivers peppered the skin he was nipping on.

“Let’s go inside,” you took his hand and led him into the house. He sat himself down on the couch and you got on top of him, one leg on either side of him. Open-mouthed kissing, letting the sound of your tongues tangling together filled the room.

You started grinding your hips against him, luckily you were wearing a dress, so your panties were in direct contact with his jeans. He slid one sleeve of your dress off your shoulder, letting it fall and exposing the top of your breast. He slide the rest off and attached his mouth to your nipple. Twirling his tongue around it, and popping it out of his mouth as he lowered your dress on the other side.

You tilted your head back, letting a hum escape your lips. “You like that darlin’,” he said to you, kissing his way back up your chest to your mouth. “You wanna lay down..?” he asked, you got off of him and laid back on the couch.

He lifted your dress up, exposing your panties and your wet pussy. “So pretty, so wet for me,” he said and ran his hand up your clothed slit, making you whimper.

“Please, Joel,” you panted, pushing your hips up toward him. He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants and boxers. His cock was stiff and his tip was glistening with pre cum.

Pushing your panties aside, he rubbed his tip into your folds before slowly entering. You both let out a huff of air, enjoying the pleasure of each other. He continued slowly thrusting in and out of your sex, you could feel every inch of him stretching you out.

“You’re so tight baby, fuck,” he said breathlessly as he picked up the roll of his hips. The sound of skin on skin the only thing in your head. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up to rest on his shoulder, making his cock go as deep as possible. You had to grab onto the couch cushions as the pleasurable pain was almost too much for you to handle.

“I’m gonna cum Joel,” you said between breaths.

“Yeah, cum on my cock baby,” he said as you let out, he kept thrusting into you full force, making you scream. “Now let me see your pretty mouth around my cock.”

You got up, legs shaky and took him into your mouth. Gagging and sputtering as he held your hair and thrust his cock into your mouth. You could feel his cock twitch as his cum covered your tongue, you swallowed and got back up onto the couch. Still drunk, you looked over to him and he planted a kiss to your forehead.

“So, how about a date next week?” he asked.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic rec #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #the mandolorian #the last of us

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 12: Reunion

It's been years, but the Mandalorian would know you anywhere. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-11 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of DV, mention of attempted SA. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+

Length: 5k

9 ABY - Present Day

Din managed to stay away from you for three months.

He let his work swallow him up, taking every puck offered to him. No price was too low, any job that would keep him from realizing how empty his ship was without you in it was worth doing. He kept thinking it would get easier. He hadn’t been with you all that long, after all. You’d barely been friends, not really. But you were always there, some biting comment or teasing smile or kind touch suddenly acutely absent. 

Time, he thought, would fix it. Time and hunting every bounty he could get his hands on. 

It didn’t work. 

So it was only three months before he found himself back on Dantooine, going back to the coordinates you’d given him, landing outside your family’s home before being greeted by the kind but confused face of the woman who lived there. 

She invited him in, gave him her name - Aidla - offered him a drink and food but he turned her down. 

“So,” she said, pleasantries out of the way. “Can I ask what brings you by?” 

“I was… in the area,” he said, trying find a way to ask what he wanted to ask. “I thought I would see how Liska was doing. Is she here?” 

Aidla smiled sadly, a knowing look in her eye. He was reminded of you for what had to be the 20th time that day. 

“I’m sorry but no, she’s not,” she leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm. “She’s married now, living on the other side of the planet.” 

Din froze. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. Married. You couldn’t be married. He’d seen you just months ago - he’d touched you, felt you come apart in his arms just months ago. You’d never mentioned anyone, you couldn’t be married… 

“It was arranged,” she gave his arm a gentle pat before she sat back in her seat. “It will help her blend in. But he’s a good man, they have a home in the country. It’s a simple, quiet life but…” 

He nodded slowly. Part of him wanted to find you. He could, if he tried. It wouldn’t even take him long, he could be at your door in a day - maybe just hours if he got lucky. 

But that would be selfish. The night before the fight in Bisneth, you’d told Keci you wanted something simple, quiet. You wanted peace. What was he going to offer you? A life of hunting bail jumpers through the galaxy? A place where you’d be shot and hurt and need to resort to the skills you resented so deeply? All because he missed touching you, missed watching how your brilliant mind worked? No. He wasn’t going to take this from you. 

“She cared for you, I think,” Aidla said after a moment. She looked down at the cup of tea in her hands. “I’d never met her before you brought her here but… there’s a lot of her mother in her. I think she cared for you very deeply.” 

Din was silent, digging his fingers into his gloved palm. 

“I can tell her you came by,” she said eventually.

“Don’t,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to disrupt her life here. I just wanted to know… how she was.” 

He started visiting Aidla and her husband, Tam, every few months. Each time he was hoping you might be there, visiting, while also hoping he wouldn’t see you so he wouldn’t have to explain himself. You were never there. But she told him that you were doing well. Tam saw you every few months when he met with your husband for trading. He usually came home with a letter, which Aidla shared with Din. You wrote about walking the countryside, asked for recipes your mother used to make you as a girl, criticized recent moves by the New Republic. He could almost see your face, hear your voice as he read your words. None of it seemed to ease the ache and longing inside him. 

More than two years after he’d left you on Dantooine, he landed at Aidla’s but found the place abandoned. It was clear no one had been there in more than two months, their fields overgrown and thick layers of dust clinging to the tea set Aidla always took down when she offered him the tea that he always politely refused. 

He went see their neighbors and asked after them, but it was only bad news. Aidla and Tam had both died - a speeder accident in Dantoo Town. 

Din trudged back to the Razor Crest and sat there, staring straight ahead, until the sun set and he realized he’d just been looking into nothing. He’d grown to like Aidla and Tam, Aidla in particular. She was the last, tenuous link he had to you. Now you were really, truly gone. He seriously considered, one last time, tracking you. But he pictured you, happy in your peaceful and quiet life, and got ready to leave Dantooine for the last time.

Before he left, he went inside their home and found your letters, bringing them aboard his ship. Once he’d jumped to the next destination, he pulled off his gloves and removed his helmet, holding the pages you’d once held, reading words you’d written without a mask between you. 

It seemed you haunted him even more after that. He’d catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye in crowded markets, hear some reflection of you when someone near him said something equally infuriating and insightful. It was as though his loose connection with you had kept you at bay and without it, the lack of you was going to drown him. 

When he took the bounty for the child, the only reason he’d stayed in a room filled with Imps is that he thought, for a moment, the bounty would be you. If he had a reason to track you, that would be different. He’d have to find you then, protect you or at least warn you. Instead, it was the kid. 

He knew you’d have never left the child with Imperials. It made him sick that he had, even for a bit. If you’d been there, you’d have taken off with him immediately. Maker, by now, you’d have probably figured out some language to speak with him, established a clear line of communications and a deep understanding with the little guy. 

So when he and the child were lying low on Garqi, he wasn’t surprised when a Naboo blaster caught his eye as he passed a weapons resale stand. He stopped for a moment, looking at it. He remembered you pressing one just like it into his chest the day he’d left you behind. 

“How much?” He asked the man working the stand. 

“Haven’t had a chance to price it yet,” he said, hardly glancing at the weapon. “Just bought it off a girl this morning but I got a deal on it. I’ll let it go for 750.” 

“This morning?” Din asked, pulling out the credits without bothering to barter. He handed them over and the man handed him the weapon. 

“Aye,” he nodded once. “She was impatient, that one. Seemed ready to be on her way.” 

“Do you know where I could find her?” He asked. The man behind the counter frowned at him. “I just have an interest in pieces from Naboo. I’d want to buy more, if she has it.” 

“She didn’t look like she was from around here,” he shrugged after a moment, going back to cleaning a blaster. “Looked like she’d gotten into it with some folks she shouldn’t have, too, she was banged up. The cheapest beds are only a few clicks east, across from the brothel. She’d likely be there.” 

The Child cooed at Din’s hip. He gave the man a stiff nod and started off, sweeping the crowds, looking for you everywhere he passed. 

It was unlikely that it was you, he told himself. You were on Dantooine. You were married. You weren’t on your own, trying to navigate this Maker-foresaken galaxy with no one. It wouldn’t be you. So he wasn’t prepared when he caught sight of you, lugging a box outside a building and putting it with the trash. Your hair was shorter and you were thinner but it was you. 

He walked toward you like he was hypnotized. You didn’t look anywhere but the ground as you went back inside, you didn’t see him coming. When he made it in the door, the building was dim, barely clothed women strolling through the room. He frowned. What were you doing here? 

“A Mandalorian,” a woman said, slinking up and draping herself over Din’s chest. “Not often we get one of your kind.” 

“I’m looking for someone,” he said, looking down at her. “The woman who was just outside, where is she?” 

“Kelda?” She asked. Din had never heard the name, but nodded. The woman frowned. “I don’t have her working the floor, I’m sure there’s something I can interest you in…” 

“I’d like to speak with her,” he replied. She glanced around before leaning into his ear. 

“Look, I can take you to the back but I don’t want her on the floor until her face is healed,” she said. “It bothers the clients.” 

“I’ll pay,” he said, pulling out some credits. With that, she smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him through the bar. The Child shifted in the bag and Din tucked him down, covering his head with the flap. No need for him to see all this quite yet. 

The back was more brightly lit and even from behind, he recognized you. 

“Kelda,” the woman said. “Someone requested you.” 

“What?” He could hear the frown in your voice. It was such a familiar sound, even three years later. You turned to face him and froze, staring at him, your eyes wide. 

You looked different now, especially up close. Your hair was in a single braid that hung barely past your shoulders, the toned muscle from the training you’d done for years gone. Your face was almost gaunt and the remains of bruises were still there, yellowing, and there was a still healing cut on your cheek. He forced his hands to stay at his sides and not reach for you. 

“Didn’t know you knew a Mandalorian,” the woman said, looking at you with suspicion. Your eyes narrowed. 

“I don’t,” you replied, turning back to your work. “Never seen the man before in my life.” 

“Well, he paid for your time,” she shrugged. “Take care of him and then you can go.” 

You sighed but kept your back to him. The woman left and your fingers drummed the countertop in front of you. 

“So, what?” You asked, still facing the wall. You picked up something on the table and started cleaning it. “You have a thing for the help now? There’s a whole room of girls actually on the menu, you know, go bother one of them.” 

Din ignored your hostilities but kept his distance. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked 

“You’re in my sector,” you snapped. “We’re just a stone’s throw from Dantooine. What are you doing here?” 

“Why aren’t you on Dantooine?” He asked, moving closer. He couldn’t help it, you were right there. 

You flung the thing you were cleaning onto the counter, forcefully, and spun to face him. 

“I don’t know, Din,” you looked up at him, your eyes finding his immediately. A skill you hadn’t lost. The flesh around your eyes was discolored, healing. “What do you think? Take your best guess.” 

“Someone hurt you,” he said. He balled his hands into tight fists to keep from trying to touch you. 

“Good on you,” you pushed off the counter behind you, grabbing the piece you were cleaning - some bar tool, he guessed - and took it to a shelf to put it away. “Are we done here? Get your money’s worth?” 

“Can we go somewhere?” He asked, keeping his voice gentle. He still couldn’t believe that you were standing there, in front of him. Fully formed, not hints of you he imagined in every corner of the universe. “I’d like to talk with you.” 

“I’d rather not,” you replied. 

“Please,” he said. There was pleading and desperation in his voice. He didn’t care about hiding it. 

“Why do you care?” You asked, exasperated and tired. His head tilted, examining you. Did you really think he didn’t care? 

“I just do,” he said eventually. “Please. Let’s talk.” 

You crossed your arms, looking him up and down, before you sighed. 

“Fine,” you said. “There’s a cafe, four doors down from here. Tea’s decent. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” 

“Thank you,” he said, watching you. Your sharpened edges seemed softer as you looked back at him. It was like you were fighting to still hate him. 

He turned and left, making sure the kid was still tucked away in his bag, before heading to the cafe. 

There was a secluded booth in the corner and he took it, hoping it would be quiet enough that you felt free to talk. The child was getting fidgety, so he took him out of the bag and ordered him a bone broth from the waitress who was happily fawning over his long ears and large eyes. 

When the waitress got called away - after bringing two refills of bone broth - Din tucked the kid into the booth beside him, wanting to avoid drawing attention, and watched the door. You arrived sooner than he’d expected, giving the waitress a soft smile and a nod before finding his table. It was hard to stay seated. He wanted to stand up, touch you, pull you against him. Instead, you sat across from him, crossing your arms as you sat back in the booth, examining him. 

“So,” you said eventually, eyebrows raised. “I’m here. What do you want?” 

*** 

It’s not like you’d picked Garqi to be safe. You hadn’t actually picked Garqi at all, not really. It was the only place you could reach with the handful of credits you’d been able to access on your way out of your house, your husband unconscious and bleeding on the floor. You didn’t have time to pack, you just grabbed the data pad with the last of your life from Naboo - the pictures, the songs, the only things that remained of your family - your knife and the credits you could get to before stealing the speeder and running. 

No, Garqi hadn’t been a strategy. But it was so remote, you thought the chances of running into anyone you knew here was slim. You hadn’t expected to see the Mandalorian show up at the bar where you’d managed to beg your way into a job. The pay was barely enough to keep you afloat, a cheap bed at the inn across the way and a meal every other day so you could try to salt enough credits away to get a ticket to a midrim world. You needed distance between yourself and Dantooine, the sooner the better. After selling the blaster, you had almost enough to buy the credentials you’d need to get off world. But now, Din was here. 

Din, the man who’d all but haunted you for years. Every flash of metal, every modulated voice made you think of him. So did holochess boards and whiskey and the sound of blaster fire and the feeling you got when you climbed a tree to get closer to the sky. He was fucking everywhere all the damned time. Except now he was really here, looking at you from across a table. His eyes were ranging over you, you could feel them as they ran up your waist, arms, neck, face. You tried to resist the urge to hide your still healing face - bacta was definitely a luxury you couldn’t afford - and just let him look like you weren’t ashamed of it. 

“Well?” You raised your eyebrows, making your damaged skin pull uncomfortably. 

Before he had a chance to respond, a small, green hand appeared at the edge of the table. You frowned as a tiny, green creature with overwhelmingly large eyes and ears pulled itself onto the table. Din sighed. 

“Who’s this?” You asked, leaning forward, face and voice softening. The creature reached for you before toddling forward, its clawed hand outstretched. 

“Kid,” Din sighed, picking him up at the waist and pulling him into his lap. “We’re trying to have a conversation.” 

The creature cooed, looking up at Din. You cocked your head, looking at him. You’d never seen anything quite like it. When his dark eyes met yours, there was a twinge of curiosity in you. But it was… odd. The feeling wasn’t your own. It was coming from the tiny thing in the Mandalorian’s lap. 

“Oh, let him play,” Shura, the waitress, said, bringing you a cup of tea. “He’s not hurting anyone by being on the table top. Does he need more bone broth?” 

“Sure,” Din said, sighing as he set the creature on the table. It smiled at him before looking back at you, a spark of happiness reaching you this time. Shura cooed at him before leaving the table again. 

“Hi there,” you smiled at the creature, even though it still hurt your cheeks. He toddled for you, curious again, his hand out stretched. He touched your face, smiling as he explored your skin. You leaned forward and he grabbed your hair, giving it a firm tug. Satisfaction, this time. 

“OK kid,” the Mandalorian said, reaching across the table and picking him up, pulling him back into his chest. “We don’t want to hurt her.” 

“I don’t mind,” you said quickly. The creature looked back to you, cocking its little head, ears wiggling. 

“What… is it?” You asked, reaching a finger across the table. The creature reached out and took it, all three of its tiny fingers wrapping around the tip of yours. There was the foreign, outside feeling of satisfaction again when it made contact. 

“He’s a… quarry that went wrong,” Din said. “Kind of like you.” 

You laughed darkly for a moment. A quarry that went wrong. One way to describe it, you supposed. 

“I was a step down from a quarry, though,” you said. The child released your finger and looked back up at Din, the odd sensation of his feelings leaving with his gaze. How strange. You looked up at the Mandalorian. “I was just cargo that never happened, right?” 

Shura set the bone broth down in front of the creature who looked overjoyed, reaching his tiny hands forward and gripping the small cup with both hands. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked after Shura was out of earshot. 

“You already figured that one out,” you replied, taking a sip of your tea. “Regular genius that you are.” 

“You know what I’m asking, Doll.” 

You winced in spite of yourself. You hadn’t heard his name for you in so long. 

“You got new armor,” you said instead of answering. “Quite the upgrade.” 

“Answer the question.” 

“I don’t owe you a damn thing, Mando,” you said, chin defiantly titled up. 

“No,” he replied. “But I doubt you want me hunting down everyone you’ve spoken to in the last month until I find whoever hurt you so I can kill them.” 

You glared at him, taking another sip of tea before setting it down in front of you and crossing your arms across your body, as though they would protect you from him in some way. 

“And if they’re already dead?” You asked. 

“Are they?” You opened your mouth to reply but he cut you off. “You’re a good liar, Doll, but not with me. Are they still alive.” 

He was right. He saw right through you. He saw through you when you pressed the blaster to his chest, when you said you hated him, when you said it was fine that you were a warm body. The asshole always saw right through you. 

“They’re alive,” you replied. “But I handled it. He’s in worse shape than me.” 

“I doubt it.” 

“Really?” You replied. “Because I took one of his eyes, Din, and there are some things even bacta can’t fix.” 

“Anything to eat today, Kelda?” Shura came up, smiling at you. 

“No,” you smiled tightly back. “Just the tea, thanks.” 

“You know, if you want…” she began, but you cut her off. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. “But thanks.” 

She looked at the Mandalorian, gave him and awkward smile and the kid a scratch on the end of his ear and left again. 

“Why didn’t you kill him?” He asked after a moment. You sighed. 

“Seems like I’ve killed enough for one lifetime,” you said, staring down at the table. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it again. Not this time.” 

He was silent for a moment. 

“Where was your husband?” He asked quietly. 

You were about to answer, an automatic reply, when you realized it. 

“How did you know I’m married?” You asked, fingers digging into your arms, worried you might try to punch him if you weren’t holding onto something. You’d never have been able to beat him on strength but you were well trained. There was a time where you thought you could have held your own against the Mandalorian. That was no longer the case. “Have you been tracking me? Stalking me?” 

“No.” 

The baby on his lap cooed, holding up his empty cup and waving it at him. Din took it and set it on the table, out of the child’s reach. The creature pouted, a feeling of disappointment coming from him when his oversized eyes found yours. You looked back up at the Mandalorian. 

“Then how,” you had to speak through gritted teeth. 

“I checked up on you once or twice,” he said. You could feel that his eyes weren’t meeting yours. “When I was in the region, I stopped to see Aidla and Tam. She told me you were married.” 

“That’s a lie,” you snapped. “She would have told me…” 

“I asked her not to,” he replied. “I didn’t want to disrupt your life. You were married, you had peace and quiet. It’s what you wanted.” 

“So why did you come back?” You demanded. “You didn’t want to disrupt my life, why come see me at all?” 

“I tried not to,” he said quietly. 

“Why?” 

He was silent again for a moment. 

“Where was your husband?” 

You stared him down from across the table, waiting for him to put it together. You knew he would. He stiffened. 

“How long.” It was a growl and not really a question. 

“He waited a while,” you shrugged. “Made it so I had no other options.” 

“How. Long.” 

You sighed. 

“It lasted about six months,” you replied. “It was never great but it was fine, for a while, even though I wasn’t… well, I wasn’t good at giving him what he wanted. But he ran out of patience with me after Aidla and Tam died about nine months back. They were the only contacts I had, we lived in the middle of nowhere so I had no friends. I couldn’t access the speeder. My parents died before you even left me on Dantooine, not that I would have risked asking them for help…” 

You sighed, looking at the wall next to you. You couldn’t believe you were doing this again, telling this damned man everything you hated about yourself. 

“Anyway,” you sighed. “I can take a lot and I did a decent enough job holding him off considering I hadn’t kept my skills up in years. But a few weeks ago, he was drunk, got upset that I’d refused my ‘wifely duties’ for a bit too long, tried to take what he wanted. So, I took his eye. And his ear.” 

“You left him alive.” He was seething. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. You met his eyes, almost pleading with him to understand. “I just… I couldn’t do it. It’s not that I ever loved him but… I needed to not be the thing that killed him. Even if he deserved it.” 

“Is he still on Dantooine?” Din’s hand was on the table, fist clenched tight. The kid looked concerned. You titled your head, seeing if he’d meet your eyes so you could confirm it. He did, the worry tinged by confusion. 

“Don’t be afraid little guy,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Everything’s alright.” 

The Mandalorian looked down at him and back to you. 

“Sorry,” you said, looking up at Din. “He’s not looking at you so you probably can’t feel it but he’s a little freaked out…” 

“What do you mean ‘can’t feel it?’” 

“Oh,” you frowned, looking back to the creature who was looking up at the Mandalorian. “Do you not feel it?” 

“Feel what?” 

“When he looks me in the eye, I can feel some of what he does,” you said. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d have realized that by now, I figured it was just part of… whatever species he is.” 

Din was quiet for a moment before he picked the baby up, turned him around and lifted him in front of his face, so their eyes would be level. The Child cooed happily. 

“Any luck?” You asked after a moment. He just shook his head. You shrugged. “Probably can’t make it through your thick helmet.” 

The Mandalorian grunted and put the kid on the bench beside him, pulling a metal ball out of the bag at his side and handing it to him. He took it happily. Din turned his attention back to you. 

“Where’s your husband now.” 

“Why?” You asked. “He’s not hurting me anymore, that’s all that matters.” 

“No,” he replied. “Tell me where he is, Doll, or…” 

“Or what?” You asked. “You’ll forget I ever happened? I was cargo, Mando. You did your job, it’s done. It’s been done for years.” 

“I will hunt him,” he said, his voice hard. “If you tell me, it will be easier but I don’t need you to. I can track him without you and I will make him pay.” 

“I don’t want you to,” you said, jaw tense. “I don’t want your help, I don’t want to owe you a damn thing. I want you to leave me alone.” 

“What are your plans from here?” He asked. “Do you plan on working at that… place forever?” 

“Only until I save up enough credits to catch a transport out of here,” you shrugged. “Figured if I can make it to midrim, I can find work as a translator or something. I just need identification for whoever I’m going to be next and the ticket off this planet and then I’m set. It should only take me a few more months, I can lay low the long.” 

“And if he comes looking for you?” He asked. “You sold your blaster.” 

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. 

“How did you know that?” 

He pulled the weapon out from a pouch on his leg setting it on the table between you. You picked it up, holding it with reverence. 

“Bought it off a weapons trader earlier,” he said. “It’s how I found you, said he bought it off a girl this morning, one who was in trouble. I thought it might have been you. It was a long shot but I had to check…” 

“What’d you pay for it?” You asked, turning it over in your hands. You’d only sold it hours before but you’d resigned yourself to never seeing it again. It seemed miraculous that you had it now. 

“Just 750 credits,” Din replied. You laughed dryly. 

“You got a deal,” you said, setting it down in the middle of the table. “Thought that guy had half a brain, figured he’d get it without me pointing it out. The royal seal at the base of the handle increases its value. You could turn it around and sell it for 2,000 on Coruscant. But his loss is your gain.” 

“Keep it,” he said. “Absolutely not,” you shook your head firmly. 

“Doll…” 

“I mean it,” you replied. “I’m not going to owe you. I can’t owe you.” 

“And I’m not going to leave you here, defenseless, when someone nearly beat you to death,” he snapped. 

“Mando,” you sighed but he leaned across the table, fists clenched. 

“If you won’t take the blaster, I’ll give you two choices,” he said. 

“Fine. What are they?” 

“Choice one, you come with me and I take you wherever you want to go,” he replied. You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I could use some help protecting the kid and picking up odd jobs. I’ll let you work your way through so you don’t owe me. Choice two, you stay here and I hunt your husband so I can kill him.” 

“That is not fair,” you fought to keep from yelling at him. “You can’t back me into a corner like that!” 

“You forced my hand,” he shrugged. “If you won’t keep yourself safe, you haven’t left me another option.” 

“Is this fun for you?” You snapped. “Do you enjoy this?” 

“Enjoy seeing you hurting?” He replied, his voice oddly calm. “No.” 

He watched you, unflinching from across the table. You wondered, for a moment, if you could run. You weren’t especially strong at the moment and you didn’t have much in the way of credits. You could maybe get to the other side of the planet, but with no real identification, it would take a while before you found work again and you’d be stuck. And Din was Din. He’d find you before you made it off world. 

“Fine,” you hissed. “I’ll come with you.” 

“Good,” he said. 

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I have some things to finish up here.” 

“Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow morning, space port.” 

“Still in the Razor Crest?” He just gave you a stiff nod. “I’ll find you.” 

“If you don’t, I’ll find you.” 

You believed him.

A/N: Some info about where we're coming into the Mandoverse now that the fic and the show timelines will collide!

This is now 3 years after the first 11 chapters of this fic, set post Season 1 of the Mandalorian (the fight against Gideon has happened.) From here out, this will drastically diverge from canon (while hopefully maintaining characterization from the show for non-OC.)

#fanfic #enemies to friends to lovers #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #slow burn #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader

[city-tickles]

Hi! Had another session recently so I wanted to talk about it.

Last year, I started following a bodybuilder/wrestler named Kortney on OF. We talked briefly and I told her my interests and she shared a tickle video with me. I thought her reactions were very cute and she was super ticklish but nothing like ever came of it.

Last week Kortney wrote on her OF that she'd be in NYC for meetups, paid sessions, etc. I’ve done things like this before, so it made me skeptical, but I figured it’s been a while so why not try it. I reached out, and we spoke and agreed to meet at a hotel and switch with each other.

I went to the hotel to meet Kortney and she was very nice. We talked about the day and life in general, getting to know each other. Then, she stripped down to her underwear to lay on the bed and lee for me. I haven’t had a ler portion of session in a few years, so I was worried how I’d do.

I started with a gentle touch on her toned stomach, which made her twitch and giggle but nothing too hysterical. I tried her neck and under her arms nut that didn't do much. I started to work my way down to her thighs and feet. With her thighs giving me more jumpy reactions. When I got to her feet, she lost it! I could barely keep them together because she kept moving and squirming away but I was able to lock her ankles (which also are ticklish) in my arms and scribble all over her soles and between and underneath her toes

Throughout the session, we would talk and joke the entire time, getting to know each other more and teasing her about how sensitive and ticklish she was. I continued to check her spots out and found out her knee was extremely sensitive. She also had an injured knee so I made sure to focus on squeezing and tickling her good knee. She could barely keep her legs together as I scribbled and squeezed her knee.

I thought that would be her worst spot until I got to her sides and ribcage. I would gently scribble and squeeze her side and ribcage and this was definitely her worst spot. Every time I would reach for it, she would go hysterical and she would squirm and grab my hands. Anytime I actually got to tickle there, she would jump around, and curl up almost defenseless. I didn’t go overboard with this as I wanted to make sure she was okay and enjoying herself. During the breaks, I would make sure she was good and gently caress her to cool down. We also tried tools but they weren’t that effective outside of the feather. The feather was more of a pleasurable feeling than a ticklish one.

Then it was my turn. I never know how I’m going to respond but I might need to stop telling people that since my reactions have been more positive recently lol

Kortney started with my feet which can sometimes be a mixed spot until it gets going, but this was like she cracked the code! Her gentle and light touch on my soles and arches had me hysterical. My feet haven’t been that sensitive in some time but I could barely take it. She laughed along and joked with me about me trying to downplay my reaction as she continued on my feet.

Then she went up to my upperbody which was also very sensitive. It was one of the few times my feet were more ticklish than my upperbody but my upperbody responded strongly to her touch. A nice moment was I had a shirt on and was nervous about pulling it up since I’ve gained some weight. She complimented my body and even loved the way my stomach loved when I was tickled there. It really made me feel good about myself. She continued to tickle my ribs and sides, loving my reactions until the time was up.

Afterwards, Kortney and I spoke about the session, which she loved and let me know the tickling/laughing session helped her mood since she was in a bad mood earlier that day. She’s interested in making videos now and doing more sessions in general, so I’ll keep you all posted on future events. Don’t expect me to star in them lol but I was really happy I went for it.

Turned anon back on if anyone has any questions. Any requests for clips will be ignored. Thanks for reading 😊

#tickling #ticklish #tickle story #tickle session #male tickling #f/m tickling #m/f tickling #personal tickling