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thorias · 22 hours

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SEASON 2 WISH LIST:

-Madelyne is resurrected as a Horseman along with Gambit: I think there's a better story to tell with Madelyne being brought back (at least temporarily) than staying dead. The X-men having to fight her too would give Cyclops and Cable a more personal stake in this Apocalypse storyline, not that they really needed one, but still...

I said in another post that I wouldn't want to dilute the "Saving Gambit" story by making a bunch of other X-men Horsemen as well, but if it's just Madelyne, then I think it's okay. And I wouldn't expect Madelyne to survive this story anyway, since, aside from tying up a couple loose threads with the Summers family, her arc is basically finished now.

Plus, I just kind of like the idea of giving Deathbit a buddy in the spurned lover department; that could be fun.

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-Sabretooth returns. Logan (sans adamantium) has to fight him... and loses: I've always liked the idea that Sabretooth would probably beat Wolverine in a fair fight, (dude is like 3x Logan's size after all) but it's never been a fair fight since the adamantium basically made Logan unstoppable. But take the adamantium away and suddenly Wolverine is the underdog for a change, which makes the match-up a lot more interesting. And what's even the point of doing the bone claws story if it's not to see how Logan deals with being in a weakened state like this?

Granted, I want to see this for selfish reasons since Sabretooth is one of my favorite villains, but come on! Victor is long overdue for a W against Wolverine, and if he can't get it now, then I'm calling BS lol.

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-Mystique returns, working for Apocalypse: I think Demayo shot down the Val-Cooper-is-Mystique-in-disguise theory, (correct me if I'm wrong about that) but it would be pretty ridiculous if we didn't see her in season 2 since she worked with Apocalypse in XTAS on multiple occasions.

Plus, there's a ready-made story there with her and Rogue. In the 90s cartoon, Mystique wanted to get Rogue back as her daughter so badly that she was even willing to turn Rogue into a Horseman to do it. So just imagine if Mystique had a hand in convincing Apocalypse to resurrect Remy as Deathbit, or at least helped him pull it off, because she saw this as a way to get back into Rogue's good graces. That would add some really interesting pathos to a story that's already really emotionally charged.

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-Costume changes: I get that Marvel has toys to sell, but the different suits the team got in season 1 ain't it. Sorry, they're just not. The only one who pulled it off was Storm. Everyone else got a serious glow down. I actually felt low key embarrassed for Scott and Jean trying to make those retro costumes from the 60s/80s eras work; there's a reason those designs stayed in the past, you guys.

And I even like Rogue's green & white suit in the comics, but in the show it just looked awkward with the gloves being a different shade of green than the rest of it. I'd take just about any of her other costumes over this one.

Either change the suits again or go back to the old versions because I'm not feeling these current ones at all.

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-Magneto has a reunion with his kids... and it doesn't go the way he wants: We saw in the season 1 finale that Mags' separation from his children is something that's at least been bothering him, (though not enough for him to lift a finger to save them from being killed along with everyone else on Earth if he succeeded in destroying the planet's electromagnetic field, but I guess we're blaming that on bad writing) so I want him to meet his kids in season 2... only for it to go as horribly as it possibly could.

It would be both ironic and hilarious if Magneto is hoping to patch things up with his kids, only for Pietro and Lorna to try to fight and arrest him the instant they see him (X-Factor doesn't seem to be a thing anymore, but let's say they're still government employees and have the authority to arrest criminals/terrorists) because he did after all murder millions of innocent people in the finale AND try to murder every other living thing on the planet, including them.

I mean, let's not kid ourselves, there's no way this family reunion is going to be a happy one after what he did. SOMEBODY has to hold Magneto accountable for that, and his own children doing it is about the most fitting thing that I can think of.

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-A big story arc for Gambit: Romy fans got gipped in season 1, and even if you're just a Gambit fan, you still had to settle for scraps with him only playing a major role in one episode, which coincidentally was the one where he got killed off. Yes, the stage is set for Deathbit to have a really compelling story in season 2, but that's going to depend on how it's done and frankly, after I got burned so many times in the first season, I'm skeptical that the writers will give this the care and attention it deserves.

Demayo said it was "key" that Remy died thinking he didn't deserve to be a hero and that Rogue had chosen Magneto instead of him. These things have gone unaddressed in the show since then, so I'm going to assume they're being saved for the Deathbit story and THE PAYOFF FOR THIS BETTER BE DAMN GOOD.

I want to see all of Remy's low self-esteem, self-loathing and resentment over the Rogneto debacle get twisted into a dark rage that Deathbit throws back in everyone's faces. AJ himself said that Remy didn't feel valued by the X-men or Rogue when he died, so use that! Make it part of the story! Make them own up to it. Force Rogue to confront her own feelings about how she handled that situation, (so far, she's been avoiding doing this) so it can factor into how they bring him back.

I know a lot of us assume that freeing Remy from Apocalypse's influence is going to come down to Rogue finally telling him that she loves him. And, yeah, that should be a big part of it, but it shouldn't be the only part. That's fine as far as Rogue is concerned, but Remy needs an arc too, and I just want it to be worth the wait after they put us through all this.

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-Deathbit vs Magneto: This needs to happen. Aside from the fact that Romy fans will have been clamoring for it for a long time, frankly, both characters are going to want it too. Mags will no doubt view Deathbit as the reason why he can't get Rogue back, and Deathbit... well, we all know what his reasons are; he'll likely want to take Magneto apart just for the pure satisfaction of it.

Now since Magneto's so OP, Gambit wouldn't stand much of a chance in a straight fight under normal conditions, but we know Apocalypse evolves/enhances mutants' powers when they become Horsemen, so imagine if he unlocked Gambit's Omega potential, so Remy has his New Son powers now, or at least a heightened version of what he had before. So Magneto goes in brimming with confidence that he's going to wipe the floor with his rival for Rogue's affections, but then in a shocking twist, Deathbit breaks out his newly enhanced power set and turns the tables on him.

Do I really want to see Mags get taken down a peg and humbled by Gambit? Sure. But narratively, this makes a ton of sense to do. Since Demayo loves Magneto so much, I highly doubt it will happen, (certainly not with this outcome at least) but I think it would be super satisfying for fans.

#x men 97 #gambit #remy lebeau #rogue #anna marie lebeau #romy #rogue x gambit #madelyne pryor #sabretooth #wolverine #logan #james howlett #mystique #apocalypse #magneto #deathbit #season 1 had so many issues #they really need to stick the landing with season 2

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le010n11 · 1 year

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I love how every week the PSG fans gather together to suffer and talk shit about psg lmao.

#neymar #leo messi #neymessi #psg #messi #kylian mbappe #neymar jr #sergio ramos #achraf hakimi #WE ARE SUFFERING #I'm not even feeling well and the match ain't helping #god help

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steddielations · 1 year

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Eddie’s having lunch with Wayne at a restaurant, but he’s distracted while swiping through Tinder, getting hung up on this one guy.

He's unfairly attractive, Steve, 20, a total jock with too many shirtless pictures that Eddie won't admit make him blush down at his phone. There's also pics of 'Steve' with a cute service dog, which is always a plus. His bio actually makes Eddie snort, 'Yeah I'm a single dad of seven, don't cream your pants,' it's funny, confident in a charming way. He's hot, but still looks like a sweetheart in group photos with his friends at Pride, so it all balances out, gives him substance.

But, the last few times Eddie swiped right, he didn't get any matches. He already knows the guy is out of his league and he doesn’t want to bother anymore.

Wayne catches him moping, and as pathetic as it is to involve his uncle in his nonexistent lovelife, he shows him the pictures. Wayne totally disagrees that 'Steve' is too good a catch for Eddie, but Eddie brushes it off as Wayne buttering him up like any good parent would. Then Wayne pulls the Ultimate Supportive Dad move and completely humiliates Eddie by asking the guy sitting alone at the table next to theirs to weigh in.

“Help me out and tell my nephew that this boy here on the Tinder ain't outta his league, would you?"

Eddie's mortified by his Uncle's lack of social media knowledge and the fact that he's involving a stranger in Eddie's pathetic lovelife now too. He doesn't even get a good look at the guy, wearing a hat and sunglasses and besides, Eddie's just glaring at his uncle with his cheeks burning the entire time.

"I think you should listen to your uncle. If anything, you're out of this guy's league, it's his loss if he didn't already swipe right on you," the stranger says, making Eddie's blush spread, "I mean, he seems totally full of himself with all those shirtless pics, right?"

"I would be too if I was that hot," Eddie mutters, taking his phone back, "Fine, I'm almost embarrassed to death, I might as well just swipe right, get rejected and finish the job."

Eddie swipes the screen and he almost drops it when the little notification bell for a new match goes off.

Because it didn't come from his phone.

He looks up as the stranger checks his own phone, taking off his hat and sliding his sunglasses up, revealing the same perfect hair and pretty face that Eddie just swiped right on.

“See there," Wayne is oblivious while Eddie's close to bursting into actual fucking flames from embarrassment, "Told you I was right."

"Look at that, I just got a new match too," Steve says, winking at Eddie, "I have a good feeling about this one."

#this is why eddie should always listen to wayne #steddie #steve harrington #my fics #eddie munson #steddie fic #rueswriting #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie headcanon #wayne munson #prompts #meet cute #social media au

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heartfullofleeches · 7 months

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Oh god V x loser darling would be a ship made in hell two deranged idiots together causing untold destruction

As mentioned in this post, V and Loser Reader seem to absolutely fucking despise each other on the surface, but while Reader might actually hate him - V is crushing hard and his feelings show when they attempt to leave his presence or talk to someone else. I imagine they met somewhere online- their first encounter being some dumb comment war beef between them or screaming match in a game lobby and when Reader roasts his ass, not realizing he's a serial doxxer and will release someone's address just for saying his favorite anime is mid, V gathers their information and starts to stalk them planning on ruining their life - but once he finally sees a picture of them his stupid ass immediately starts crushing on them and uses the information he's gained to scare them into dating him

V: Your argument falls through as you clearly have the vocabulary of a middle schooler. Even a literal child would be better at getting their point across that you. Can you even form one coherent sentence, you fucking parasite-

Loser Reader: Kys. Freak.

V: I'm going to dox you and your entire family. We'll see how brave you are when your address is posted for everyone to find

Loser Reader: Here's something to help you out, bitch. [Sends him a private message of themself giving him the middle finger]

[V quietly removes their username from the folder titled "hitlist" and saves the picture they sent him - adding it to different folder titled "Homework"] (spoilers: it ain't homework in that folder)

Loser Reader: I'm heading out!

V: Who the fuck said you could leave without me?

Loser Reader: Kiss my ass, Vince.

V: I mean I'll do it, but you're still not leaving this house.

Loser Reader: Vince, can I use your credit card?

V: With the way you treat me? Fuck no.

[Loser Reader pulls out a pair of cat ears and puts them on]

Loser Reader: Vincey....

V: No, Y/n.

Loser Reader: but your kitty needs it. 👉👈 You don't want to have a sad kitty do you? Sad kitties don't buy maid dresses and cute lingerie with your money to make themselves cute, and submissive and breedable for you-

[V sighs and hands them his wallet]

Loser Reader, tossing the cat ears into the trash: Thanks, Virgin. Would've offered to suck you off if you held out a bit longer, but oh well~

V: ....I will report all of my cards as stolen if you aren't on your knees by the time I count to three

#V my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere #loser reader

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dixons-sunshine · 3 months

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Scooby Snacks with your Whiskey | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: One night when you couldn't sleep, you decided to join Daryl in the guard tower and keep him company. During a game of truth or drink, Daryl unknowingly insulted your favourite childhood cartoon, which resulted in playful arguments, accidentally shattered whiskey bottles and confessions.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Prison, post season 3, pre season 4

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, sexual innuendos but nothing major.

Word count: 3.7k

A/n: This is based off of what Daryl told Beth in s4 episode 12 right before they set the cabin on fire. He was talking about a cartoon about a talking dog, and my mind instantly went to Scooby Doo, and so this fic was born. It's not really good, since I'm still trying to get into the writing momentum, but I hope you enjoy!

Also, my requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

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"Hey. Would you mind some company?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl turned around. He hummed and nodded for you to come closer, to which you complied. You stood beside him in silence, quietly observing the walkers at the fences. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was stealing glances at you, his hands fidgeting with his crossbow string.

His heart fluttered at the sight of you, a regular thing that happened whenever he was in your general area. You looked up at him with that smile that always made butterflies fly around in his stomach and your eyes always seemed to sparkle brighter than the stars in the night sky, and although Daryl liked the quiet away from everyone, you were one of his only exceptions.

Daryl loved hearing you talk. He loved listening to you talk about your life before and although he wouldn't admit it, he was always captivated by the bedtime stories you told little Judith. The way you changed your voice to match the emotion of the part you were telling, even though Judith didn't understand anyway and would react the same regardless, was enchanting to him. He would listen to you talk for hours if he could.

And above all, he loved your caring yet badass nature. The way you would take down walkers with a skilled ease, and then in the same breath turn to him and check him for any injuries with a concerned look on your face made him feel drawn to you. You actually cared about him, in a way nobody ever had. Daryl didn't believe that anything was perfect, but you were the closest thing to perfect there was.

It also didn't help that you were absolutely breathtaking to him. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to your perfectly plump lips that he's wanted to kiss on more occasions than one. Daryl couldn't define how he felt about you because he never felt this way about anyone before, but he knew his feelings for you ran deeper than what could be described as platonic. And that fact scared him.

A soft sigh from you snapped Daryl from his thoughts. He looked over at you and noticed that you seemed to be deep in thought, a small frown on your face as you kept your eyes trailed on the ground below.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Daryl prompted, instantly gaining your attention. Your eyes trailed over to him and his heart skipped a beat at the smile you gave him.

"Just thinking," you responded nonchalantly, shaking your head in dismissal. You pushed away from the railing you were leaning over and turned your body fully to look at Daryl.

Daryl hummed softly, his eyes trailing over you before shifting back to look at the fences. "Ya wanna talk 'bout it?" He questioned.

"It's stupid."

"Ain't stupid if it's botherin' ya," he retorted, turning his body to fully face you as well.

You sighed before shaking your head. "It's just... I'm thinking about my mom. The last thing we did before all of this was fight over something stupid and now..." You trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under the archer's stare.

"Ya think she didn't make it?" He finished for you, giving you a knowing look.

"I know she didn't make it. She was diagnosed with cancer about two weeks before all of this started, and there aren't exactly doctors around who could've helped her," you responded, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers.

"'M sorry to hear tha'. This world jus' ain't meant for people with sicknesses like tha'," Daryl said, and mentally kicked himself for saying that. There you were, confiding in him over something serious and that's the best he could come up with? He felt like a perfect fool.

However, instead of being angry at him, you looked at him with a small smile, much to his surprise. "Yeah," you started. "I just hope that she didn't suffer. She was a good woman."

"Were ya close?" Daryl asked, his blue eyes meeting your beautiful ones. He hoped that he wasn't prying, but he wanted to know more about you, the woman who haunted his thoughts 24/7.

You nodded. "We were."

"Ya make a lot of good memories with her?"

You laughed lightly, surprising the archer. "What is this, 20 questions?"

Daryl frowned. "What?"

"20 questions," you repeated, noting that your repetition didn't spark recognition in the archer's eyes. "It's a game you play with your friends at parties, sleepovers, you name it. You all take turns asking each other any questions you want."

"Never heard of it," Daryl said, shrugging his shoulders. He felt awkward under your intense stare, your eyes widened with surprise.

You softly gasped in surprise. Then, an idea struck you. "Wait here."

"It's my shift," he stated matter-of-factly. "Ain't goin' nowhere until dawn."

"Perfect."

With one last look at Daryl, you climbed down from the guard tower, excitedly rushing into the cellblock and into your cell. You bent down in front of your bed and retrieved what you were looking for; a bottle of whiskey you found on a run. With a renewed excitement, you gripped the bottle tightly and headed back up to the guard tower, finding Daryl waiting patiently.

Daryl glanced at the bottle in your hand and looked at you questioningly. "Where'd ya find tha'?" He asked, watching you approach with a slight smile on his face. He could practically see your excitement, the big smile on your face infectious.

"On a run a couple of weeks ago. I've been waiting for the right moment to open it, and the right moment has now presented itself," you said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and motioning for Daryl to do the same.

"How so?" He questioned, following your lead by sitting down on the ground in front of you. He kept his eyes trailed on you, watching your every move.

"Well, I was gonna suggest we play 20 questions, but I don't wanna force you into answering a question you don't want to, so we're gonna play truth or drink instead. We ask questions back and forth, and if we don't wanna answer the question that was asked, we drink. It's as simple as that."

"And I dun' got any say in if I wanna play or not?" Daryl asked, a small, teasing smile on his face. His smile turned into something more genuine when you let out a light laugh.

"Nope!" You laughed, opening the bottle and placing it in between the two of you. "You wanna start?"

Daryl hesitated, pursing his lips. "I dun' know wha' to ask."

"Anything. There are no wrong questions," you reassured him, leaning back on the palm of your hands.

"Alrigh'," he drawled, unsure of himself. "Wha' was yer favourite movie before all of this?"

"There you go," you praised him with a smile, making Daryl duck his head as heat flushed his face. "To be honest, I don't really know. I watched a lot of movies, so I don't think I can narrow it down to one. But I have a couple of favourites. The Breakfast Club and Back to the Future are two of them."

Daryl nodded, absentmindedly chewing on his thumbnail. "Now 's yer turn, righ'?" He questioned.

"Yeah," you confirmed. After a couple of beats of silence, you voiced your question. "Who was your first kiss?"

Daryl shifted awkwardly, embarrassment filling his body. "I honestly dun' remember her name. It was some girl in a dive bar Merle used to drag me to. She was drunk and I was helpin' her to her car when she turned around and kissed me."

"How old were you?" You asked, genuinely interested. Daryl rarely talked about his past, so when he did, you ingrained every piece of what he said into your mind.

"Nah, 's my turn to ask the questions. Wait yer turn," he joked, eliciting a laugh from you.

"Touché, Dixon, touché. Ask away."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, a habit you noticed he unknowingly did whenever he was thinking. You found it absolutely endearing, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that you found most things about the archer endearing. The way he fiddled with his bolts whenever he was bored, the way he flicked his hair out of his face with the shake of his head, his small smile—you could go on a rant about his smile, and you have before. Michonne happened to be the victim who was forced to listen to your lovesick rambling in the car on your way back from the same run you'd gotten the whiskey from.

Begrudgingly snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you patiently waited for Daryl to continue the game. Feeling your stare on him, he asked the first thing that popped to mind, and instantly wished he didn't.

"Who was yer first sex partner?"

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, heat creeping up your cheeks at a rapid pace. Daryl felt his own face flush, feeling stupid for asking the question.

"Sorry. Ya dun' have to answer tha'," he apologised, his eyes darting to the floor.

"No, it's okay. Like I said, no wrong questions. Besides, if I don't answer, I have to drink," you said, trying to compose yourself. You took a deep breath. Of all the things you thought you'd be doing tonight, you didn't think you'd be discussing who your first intimate partner was with the guy you had feelings for. "My highschool boyfriend, senior year."

Daryl nodded and left it at that. He leaned back on his hands, watching you carefully. He was surprised that you'd actually answered the question, given the personal privacy boundaries he pushed. He silently promised himself that whatever personal question you asked him, he would answer.

"What's the most petty fight you've ever gotten into because of Merle?" you questioned, looking at him expectantly.

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking hard about his answer. "It was with this one guy. He was Merle's dealer. He was a small, janky white guy. We were over at his house one day, jus' loungin' around and watchin' TV, some stupid kids show playin'. It was barely noon, we were all wasted and Merle was high. Merle decided to take a piss outta the show, and when he started, he wouldn't let up. He never could when he was high."

Daryl stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts while your gaze remained fixated on him. You seemed genuinely interested in the story, your eyes sparkling with wonder. Your lips were slightly parted and it took everything in Daryl not to act on his urge to kiss your pretty lips.

"It turns out, the cartoon was the guy's favourite show, and he got hella pissed 'bout it. 'M pretty sure Merle didn't know it was the guy's favourite show. I mean, he never saw the guy except when he needed somethin', but tha' didn't matter. The guy punched Merle in the face, and tha's when I got into the fight. 'M on this guy and 'm punchin' him as hard as I can, but then the guy pulls a gun on me, sticks it righ' against my head and threatens to shoot me."

"Oh, god," you murmured, slightly horrified.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, seemingly unfazed at your reaction. "Tha's when Merle pulls out his gun and points it at the guy. At this point, everyone's yellin', I'm yellin'... I thought I was gonna die tha' day."

"How'd you get out of it?" You asked, bringing your knees up to rest your head on them.

"I didn't. The guy ended up punchin' me in the gut and I puked on the floor. They both started laughin' at me and everythin' was magically over," Daryl said, shaking his head at the memory. "And to think that happened over some dumbass cartoon about a talkin' dog."

You visibly stiffened, and this caught Daryl's attention. "Wha'? Wha's wrong?"

"Talking dog..." You trailed off, your eyebrows furrowing. "Did the dog happen to be a Great Dane? And his owner was this guy in a green shirt and brown pants with messy hair?"

Daryl pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. There were other people, too. Two women and a guy with an ascot."

"Scooby Doo," you stated plainly, giving the archer a playful glare.

"Wha'?" He asked, confusion evident on his face.

"Scooby Doo," you repeated, waving your hand nonchalantly. "That's the cartoon you were talking about. The cartoon you called dumb."

"Yeah, 's 'cus it was. Can't believe anybody actually liked tha' crap."

"Daryl Dixon, how dare you?" You laughed, your eyes widened in surprise. "Scooby Doo is a national treasure! He was part of my childhood and now you're insulting him? I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Daryl chuckled at you, rolling his eyes at your theatrics. "From wha' I saw, the dog and his owner were cowards. Runnin' away, screamin', from fake ghosts after how many years of encounterin' them and knowin' tha' ghosts aren't real but they still think they are? It's stupid as shit, and I ain't apologising for thinkin' tha'."

"You're a disgrace!" You laughed, trying to sound angry but miserably failing. "You're telling me that, real or not, if a ghost was chasing you that you wouldn't run away?"

"Tha's righ'," he nodded, before gesturing to the walkers down at the fence. "I dun' run away from tha' shit, so I sure as hell wouldn't be runnin' away from fake ass ghosts."

"I can't believe you," you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment. "This is the worst betrayal ever. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this. We won't be able to go back to being friends because of this. This is terrible."

"Stop," he laughed quietly, his eyes twinkling with a rare occurrence of merriment. "It ain't tha' deep. I jus' dun' like it."

"Clearly you don't like it because you have bad taste," you retorted playfully.

"Well, I like ya, so do I still have bad taste?"

Silence. It was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Any trace of the former reverie between the two of you disappeared and was instead replaced with an invisible current of electricity between you. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden revelation from the man, and your heart sped up in your chest. The logical part of your brain told you that he meant it platonically, that he liked you the way he liked Rick or Glenn, but the optimistic part convinced you that he didn't, that your feelings weren't one-sided. That the archer might like you too.

"Probably," you finally responded, feeling your face ablaze with the heat that spread across it.

"Nah, my taste is immaculate," he replied, looking at you carefully, closely monitoring your reactions. Daryl knew that was a risky response, and he was nervous about your reaction, but he hoped for the best.

You gulped nervously. Daryl's response made your stomach do somersaults and your heart pound at the speed of light.

"Yeah? I still think your taste is shit," you finally managed to respond, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Sometimes you wondered if Daryl knew what effect he had on you. If he knew how many nights dreams of him plagued your mind.

Daryl's chuckle broke the tension between you, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"Whatever ya say." Daryl took the bottle from the middle and took the first swig since the game started. Your eyes drifted to the trickle of whiskey that spilt from the bottle and trickled down his lips and chin, and you had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the spill away.

"You don't like Scooby Doo. That automatically means that you have shitty taste," you retorted, your breathing slightly heavier than before.

You leaned forward to take the bottle from him, but he held it out of your reach. You looked at him in confusion but he simply smirked at you, getting up from his position on the ground to stand tall over you.

"Daryl," you warned, laughing as you got up as well. "It's my whiskey. Give it back."

"Nah, I think Imma hold on to it," he said playfully, holding the bottle above his head. He laughed at you when you jumped to try and grab it from his hands.

"Daryl!" You exclaimed with a laugh, trying everything to retrieve the bottle, but to no avail. "Come on, don't be so mean!"

"Ya said I had terrible taste. Well, I like this whiskey, so tha' means it must be terrible as well, since I like it, so ya probably won't like it," he responded playfully, his eyes alight with mischief.

One final jump to grab it proved to be the wrong move. You accidentally slipped when your feet hit the ground, sending you falling onto Daryl. The archer reacted swiftly, dropping the bottle to to catch you with both hands. The bottle shattered on the ground instantly while you and Daryl toppled onto the floor, the force from your fall catching him off guard. Daryl layed flat on his back with you on top of him, his hands still on your waist from when he tried to steady you before you fell.

You looked into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes and felt your heart speed up. Daryl's eyes darted to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes, but you had caught him. In a sudden burst of confidence, you lowered your face and crashed your lips onto his, catching him off guard for the second time that night.

Daryl stiffened for a moment, surprised at the unexpected action from you, but soon relaxed and slowly kissed you back. He brought one of his hands to the back of your head and drew you closer, his lips slowly moving against yours. His other hand hesitantly trailed from your waist to the small of your back, gently moving over the exposed skin from the ride up of your shirt.

The kiss ended too prematurely for your taste, but oxygen was still a necessity. You slowly pulled back, looking into his eyes with surprise and delight. Daryl looked back at you in adoration.

"Wha' was tha' fer?" He whispered breathlessly, his chest heaving slightly.

"Just because," you replied honestly, still baffled at the fact that you had just kissed Daryl, surprised that you had mustered up the courage to do so in a matter of seconds.

"Well, if ya think tha's gonna prove to me tha' my taste is shit, then yer gonna need to try somethin' different. Tha' didn't work. If anythin', it jus' proved to me tha' my taste is amazin'."

You laughed and shook your head. "You talking about me or Scooby Doo?"

Daryl started sitting up, making you slide down his stomach to sit in his lap. "Definitely ya," he responded, wrapping his arms around you.

"So, you like like me, huh, Dixon?" You teased, linking your arms around his neck.

Daryl hummed and gave you a small smirk. "Mhm," he hummed, giving you a soft peck on the lips. "Wish I'd known tha' talkin' shit 'bout some cartoon dog would make this happen. Woulda done it a lot sooner."

"Don't you ever talk shit about that dog in my presence ever again," you warned with a playful glare, eliciting a chuckle from the archer.

"Jus' to be sure, this means somethin', righ'?" He asked, his tone turning serious. A look of doubt spread across his face. "This wasn't jus' a heat of the moment thing for ya?"

You shook your head, bringing one of your hands to cup his cheek. "Did you mean it? That you like me? And I don't mean in a platonic way."

"I did," he confirmed, leaning into your touch.

"That's good," you said with a small, shy smile. "Because I like you too. Even if you have crappy taste."

Daryl's eyes filled with relief and he let out a small laugh before leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss was brief, but it was sweet and tender. When he pulled away, he brought a hand up to push your hair out of your face.

"Never thought this would happen. I thought ya dun' like me like tha'."

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "No more of that. I don't plan on letting you go now that I have you, Daryl Dixon. You're stuck with me."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, 'm stuck." With that, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. He flipped you over so that you were on your back, making you giggle against his lips.

You were definitely thankful for Scooby Doo and that whiskey bottle right now.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead #twd

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cptnleviackerman · 8 months

Text

"Am I your lockscreen?"

jean kirstein x gn reader

content - modern au, fluff, jean calls reader pretty, jean gets embarrassed when you look at his phone words - 1k

"Do you seriously think you have better moves than me, Kirstein?"

Jean tilts his head, but keeps his eyes focused on the screen, not wanting to let your taunting get to him.

The two of you had been engaged in a close battle of video games all afternoon, currently playing a 3 round game of tennis on the Wii to decide which one of you gets to choose the place you'll order food from for dinner.

"Babe, just watch this serve and you'll be eating your words." He brings his arm back in preparation for his tennis serve. "Just like you'll be eating Chinese food for dinner!"

Jean ends his sentence with a whoop, clearly already planning his victory as he prepares to undergo what he assumes will be his final few swings.

The first swing is his serve, a nice and solid start in which he had you leaping to cover your end of the court.

"You know if I win this set I win the entire match, right? It's match point, baby."

You scoff, trying your best to ignore him.

His second swing has your heart beating frantically, and even though your eyes have been trained on his every move on screen, you still almost miss it—managing to save it by the skin of your teeth.

"I love you baby, but there ain't no way I'm letting you win right now."

And he's right. His third swing is his most forceful yet, and you're pretty sure he almost let go off the Wii remote—thank god you told him to use the remote straps.

You groan the second your Mii misses the tennis ball, but it's drowned out by Jean's incredibly loud, and giddy, cheering.

"Wooooooo! Aw yeah, ah ye— did you see that, babe?—ah yeah, I'm a genius, I literally nailed that!—that was amazing."

His cheering bleeds into something more along the lines of a song, and you can't help but laugh as you reach across the sofa to pick up Jean's phone, thinking that you may as well get the menu up and ready to browse while he finishes his gloating.

"Yeah yeah yeah, it's probably for the best anyway, you're such a sore loser—"

Jean turns to look at you—ready to take all your teasing about how much of a bad loser he is, and how you let him win this game to save your poor ears from having to hear all his whining—when his eyes widen.

“Am I your lockscreen?” You ask, stunned.

ShitShitShit

Jean grimaces.

Act dumb.

“What are you talking about? I… I don’t think I have a lockscreen at the moment.”

Not that dumb.

You smile, narrowing your eyes slightly in amusement as Jean’s mouth opens and closes.

"And you're sure about that, huh?"

"I think maybe Eren changed it the other day…"

You stare at him, watching the cogs turning in his head.

"I never change my lockscreen—I wouldn't even know how to—and if I did I'd only ever change it to something really good—not that you're not good—shit—I mean like, a good photo of the sky or a nice group shot or a pic of my dog—not that I think you're like my dog—you're really pretty—not that my dogs not pretty—it's a different type of pretty, you know? You wouldn't compare apples to oranges—no wait—that's not right…"

Jean looks to the ground as he trails off—not daring to meet your eyes. He could feel the tips of his ears burning. His face felt hot. His heart was racing wildly.

God. That was a mess.

“Jean?”

He continues avoiding your eyes, willing the ground to open up and swallow him right where he stood.

“Jean?” You ask again, “Is this photo from my instagra—”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” Jean says quickly.

You look at him for a second—watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, and seeing how his hands are beginning to shake—and you take a step towards him.

“Jean, would you please look at me?”

He doesn't.

“Baby, I’m serious,” you try not to smile at his stubbornness, “it's very, super, extremely important that you look at me right now.”

You step in front of your boyfriend, placing your hands on his cheeks and angling his head so he is forced to look at you.

“I’m not mad, Jean. I’m not upset or confused or embarrassed, or whatever it is that you think I'm feeling right now.”

Jean furrows his eyebrows, but he doesn’t dare to interrupt.

“I love it. A lot. And I can't believe I didn’t know—wait, is this what Eren was teasing you about the other day?”

Jean nods, and you're unable to stop the smile that lights up your face.

“Oh my god… you’re the sweetest guy ever.”

You move your hands from his face, and instead settle your arms around his waist, pulling him ever so slightly closer to you.

“Why didn't you want me to know?”

“I don’t know… I think maybe I thought it was too soon…?” Jean says, his voice rising as he reaches the end of his sentence.

You shake your head.

“It’s not too soon, definitely not at all. I love it, okay?”

“Okay.” Jean smiles.

“Just promise me one thing—”

“Anything.”

“Next time you want a photo for your lockscreen, just ask me. I don’t want you to be forced to use the same photos that everybody gets to see. I want you to have something special.”

Jean feels his cheeks flare up with warmth at your words, but he nods his head.

Satisfied, you untangle your arms from around his waist and plop yourself down on the sofa, holding his phone out towards him.

Jean’s puzzled look causes you to let out a small giggle.

“Baby… You won, now come over here and order me some Chinese food.”

Jean grins, his cocky winner demeanour suddenly returning as he sits down next to you, flopping himself practically on top of you and slinking his arm around your shoulder.

“Give me that phone babe, it's time for the winner to choose the dinner.”

#he's so cute I want him so bad #want to pepper his face in kisses #mwah mwah mwah fr #jean kirstein fic #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein fic #sage.fics #aot fic

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deanwinchestersbabygirll · 3 months

Text

Needed you pt1

-warnings// fluff, a lotta angst and implied smut

-a lil summary// Dean acts like an ass, Castiel saves the day yayyy

Castiel x reader

word count//1626

(gif from Pinterest)

"You're such an asshole Dean! I have every right to go on this hunt the same way you and sam do!" You demanded frustrated by the way Dean was banning you from the hunt, so what if you matched the witches victims, you've been a hunter just as long as they were having being brought into it by your parents

"The answers no Y/N we're not risking it!" Dean yelled packing his weapons in his duffel bag as Sam stood silent watching the fight take place not knowing what to do, you rolled your eyes crossing your arms over chest

"it's my life Dean and I can take as many damn risks as I want, especially when it comes to hunting" you yelled back at him your face growing redder by the second

Dean turned to face you his face full of anger "it's not your life I'm worried about, if Sam and I are worried about saving your ass every damn hunt we're gonna wind up dead and I ain't letting that happen so either shut up and research or find someone else to hunt with!" Dean yelled before grabbing his bag

You felt your eyes burn with tears taking in what he just said, Sam grew angry at the comment and he stepped forward to his brother "what the hell is wrong with you Dean" he was angry you were there friend for years knowing them since you were kids, you were family to them, well to Sam at least

"what Sam it's true, she doesn't pull her weight! how many hunts have you gotten bit or stabbed or shot at because Y/N needed help? At least Cas helps out!" Dean said storming out the motel door towards the impala

Sam sighed and turned to face you, taking note of the tears streaming down your face, he pulled you into his arms his large hand cradled the back of your head as your cried into his chest "just ignore him Y/N he's just being a jerk, you do everything for us I mean you've saved our lives more times than I can count, just sit this one out till I figure out what's making him lash out" Sam said and you knew he was right, being anywhere near dean would kill you right now

You nodded against Sam's chest sniffling as you pulled away "I'll be okay you head on out" Sam gave you a sad look and placed his hands on your shoulders "please don't leave just stay here, order takeout and we'll be back in 2 days tops" Sam said, he know you like the back of his hand considering you guys were best friends for over 15 years and he knew you would be thinking of packing up and heading off by yourself

"Okay I promise sweetie I'll wait right here, now you go be safe and come back in one piece" you said giving him a quick hug "I will don't worry about me, hey look if you get bored maybe call Cas he wouldn't mind keeping you company" Sam joked nudging your arm knowing of your feelings for the handsome angel

"Yeah yeah just you head on out" you joked pushing Sam to the door shutting it and quickly doing the locks, once you were alone you let your back hit the door as you slid down holding your head to your knees as your cried, you felt so worthless like you were nothing but a burden to the boys, even Castiel, you appreciated Sam's comfort but it didn't ease the pain.

Looking up from your huddled position when you heard a flutter of wings and low and behold the celestial was stood staring at you confused "you're crying? Who's done this" Castiel asked as he nearly down to your level placing his hand on your knee "I'm okay Cas really don't worry about it" you spoke quickly freaking embarrassed having been caught crying

Castiel gave a look as he squinted his eyes, taking in your features "if it's made this upset of course I'll worry about" Castiel said taking your hands in his pulling you up to a standing position, he placed his hands on your face as he gently wiped your tears away "please tell what happened honeybee?" He begged making you break into tears once more

You and the angel sat on the bed, his arm around your waist holding you to him as you told him about your fight with dean. Castiel was tense as you spoke feeling completely enraged towards the older Winchester "he shouldn't say things like that to you" Castiel was said as he twirled a strand of your hair, helping to calm your breathing

You eventually fell asleep on Castiel's shoulder as you both lay on the bed sitting against the headboard, Castiel stared at your sleeping face noting the red tones on your raw cheeks, he pulled out his phone and hit deans contact, normally he would go to where the boys were, but you looked so peaceful he didn't want to disrupt that

"Hey Cas what's up?" Deans gruff voice came from the phone "well I'm not happy considering I found Y/N crying alone " Cas replied annoyed

Dean sighed before answering "just stay out of it Cas it's not a big deal" Castiel only grew angrier at this "yes dean it is, how could you say that to her" cas whisper yelled down the phone "it's between Y/N and i so just mind your own damn business!" Dean yelled before hanging up the phone, Castiel let out a frustrated sigh and placed his phone on the night stand.

A few hours later you woke up to the feeling of fingers moving slowly through your hair, you looked up from your place on Castiel's chest "hey you stayed?" You questioned knowing the angel didn't need sleep "of course, you were upset I wouldn't leave you alone when you're upset" cas said as if stating the obvious

"That's really sweet of you cas I really needed a friend tonight" you leaned in giving the angel a hug which he was hesitant to reciprocate, still getting used to human antics

"I'll always be there when you need me" he said pulling back from the hug gently his blue orbs staring into your eyes "th-that means a lot Cas thank you" you stuttered out feeling awkward his intense stare at you.

Castiel placed his hands either side of your face, he battled an internal thought, before you could ask him what was wrong, he was leaning forward capturing your lips in his own, you were shocked at first Castiel had never shown interest in you other than friendship

Once the shock had worn off you kissed back immediately wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, after a few minutes Cas pulled away from the kiss "I uh w-what was that for?" You questioned still enchanted by the way his lips felt on yours

"Sam and I talked, he told me what it meant when I felt a fluttering sensation in my abdomen when I was with you and how I should talk to you about it" Cas said his striking blue eyes staring into your own as he spoke

"Are you saying you like me?" You asked and Cas leaned forward giving you another small kiss before pulling back once more "I find myself falling for you more everyday" Cas said and you smiled feeling your heart beating a thousand miles an hour "I really like you too Cas"

You leaned forward pushing cas down to the bed as you captured his lips in a searing kiss and straddled his hips, he ran his hands from your waist down to your thighs as he gripped them tightly "I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw you" you said panting as you pulled back slightly only to move your kisses down his neck

He groaned when you nipped at the spot under his jaw "your the only human I have ever felt feelings for Y/N" cas said as his hand grasped your ass holding you close to him as you grinder your hips down softly against his growing your shirt off your body leaving you in your black lace bra as you kissed your way back to his lips.

Breathless you lay against Castiel's bare chest, your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat "that was pretty amazing" you murmured against his skin, Castiel ran his hand up and down your waist “yes I quite liked it, I would like to do it again” Castiel replied

“Oh really?” You asked, Castiel nodded “yes, but only with you” Castiel said, you smiled looking up at him as you moved to leave a kiss on his kiss swollen lips “I’d really like to do that again with you too Cas” you said as you cuddled back into his side.

It was later and the room was in complete darkness, you slept soundly against the angel who remained awake, staying determined to protect you if any evil came lurking through the night, a buzzing coming from the phone that lay in your bag, it was seemingly unnoticed by the angel as he was too focused on the feel of your bare skin against his

It was a message from Dean…

‘Hey sweetheart, listen I’m really sorry for how much of an ass I was to you before leaving, I didn’t mean any of it, I know that’s no excuse, I think we should have a talk when Sammy and I come back, just us, I want to talk to you about some things.’

___________________________________________

THIS IS FROM MY OLD PAGE @aesthetic-babyyy

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harmshake · 5 months

Text

All To Me: Chapter Four

Roman is ready to give his all to Golden if she's ready to answer one simple question...

Roman Reigns x Golden (Chubby!Black!OC) | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, drama, aggression (her to him), smut | 2,948 words

Happy reading! Read Chapter Five or my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

youtube

"Golden, baby. Please."

Joe's voice could barely be heard over the pounding rain behind him as he stood on her porch, soaked and sad that he even had to beg to be let inside her home. It wasn't the first time, but he hoped it would be the last.

He knew she was upset with him, or at least weary of him since she had been ignoring his calls for two weeks. He hadn't seen her in just as long, and while he didn't want to piss her off by showing up out of the blue, he couldn't avoid the pull that kept tugging him in her direction. It's what yanked him out of his bed and led him here tonight.

It was Golden's heartstrings that caused that persistent pull. Been that way for years. Joe knew his heartstrings were tied in knots for this beautiful woman standing before him, looking up at him with bewildered, deep brown eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to soothe the troubled thoughts he knew lingered behind them.

"Joe, I can't believe this..." Her soft voice trailed off as she crossed her arms over her chest and blinked at him. He didn't detect any anger in her tone and he was thankful for that. He shifted his weight onto his left foot and stuffed his big hands into the single pocket of his hoodie as he tried to match her tone.

"I'm sorry to pop up like this. But I ain't seen or heard from you in a while. I was gettin' worr—" Joe started but a crack of thunder cut him off. His eyes widened with a silent plea to step inside. It took Golden an extra second to take a step back with a defeated huff and let him through the doorway.

She stood awkwardly to his left as she snatched a pink mug from her glass key table and clutched it to her bosom like it helped her stay sane in his presence. Paired with that bewildered look still plastered on her pretty face, Joe felt his heart sink to his stomach. It made him ponder if he truly was such a burden to her...as well as made him yearn for one last chance to lighten the air and finally unfurl the storm clouds that muddled their relationship.

"Thank you...and sorry for gettin' your floor wet," he said with a glance down at his black Nikes in a tiny puddle on her tile. He then peeked at her mug again and knew right away it was either hot chocolate or coffee, her favorites, but noticed no steam rose from it. "Can I warm that up for you?" He pointed his finger at it. "I'd like to use your kitchen, anyway, to grab some paper towels. If that's okay."

Golden nodded once and he warily wrapped his hand around her mug. She flinched a little from his touch but let him take it before she quickly disappeared into her den. Joe let out a slight huff of his own as he shuffled into her kitchen to reheat her hot chocolate in her microwave and retrace his steps with paper towels to clean up his sodden mess. He couldn't shake feeling hurt by her bristled demeanor as it made him feel like a stranger in her home where he used to keep his clothes and lay his head some nights.

However, if Golden was reluctant to talk to him, she wouldn't have let him in. He kept that in the forefront of his mind as he handed her back her mug, took a seat on her sofa, and thought of the words to say to convince her that she had no reason to keep running away from him...especially since he had every reason to run after her.

It was one of those reasons that even though she quietly sat three feet away from him on her sofa, he could still feel her pull, warm and supple, still enticing and inviting him in whenever their eyes met.

Golden was deeply in love with him. And Joe needed to figure out how to persuade her that he, too, was deeply in love with her.

He hunched over in deeper reflection, his eyes on her floor and his knees spread far apart as he rested his elbows on them with his chin on his knuckles before he uttered, "I imagine you've given more thought to us...and that's why you ain't hit me up."

He then took a glimpse at her to tentatively add, "Was that your way of tellin' me you're done with me?"

She took her time to sip on her hot chocolate as if it calmed her nerves. He was doing his best to keep his voice even and not let his nerves slip into it when it tore him up inside that she seemed to be slipping away from him.

"You can be honest, Golden," Joe muttered. "I know I gave you a lot of grief in the past...but I still see a future for us. You really don't see it?"

"I want to see it. But I still feel that grief like you did it to me yesterday. I see it every time I look at your daughter. That's what makes our future impossible."

Her face was so smooth, as was her voice. Yet as Joe's drenched hoodie began to nip at his skin with a biting cold, he felt it from her words, also. He snatched the hoodie off and ran his hands over his slightly damp, black tee shirt, needing a moment to collect himself and speak without her hearing how she shook him.

"I'm so sorry for everything I put you through. But I feel like I've been sayin' sorry and tryna make it up to you for five years straight," he mumbled through his jumbled thoughts, his fingers itching for something to fiddle with besides the small, velvet box he hid in his left sweatpants pocket. It would have to remain hidden for now as he tried not to chide Golden. "I'm not gon' act like it probably won't take me five more years to get back on your good side. But you gotta be fair. Ka'Mayah is a part of me. And so are you, baby...I love you."

"I'm not your baby, Joe. You gotta baby to take care of and I don't need you to take care of me. Or waste any more time trying to make things right."

The way Golden disregarded his sentiment as her eyes glossed over with solemnity haunted Joe. It was as if she peered not through him but beyond him like she was truly done with him. It dawned on him then that she was when she sat her mug on her coffee table and rose from her sofa in an effort for him to follow her to the door.

Though he couldn't move if he wanted to, his limbs suddenly heavy with despair seeping into his muscles like poison. And he didn't want to, not if this was how she planned to end it: Abruptly, painfully, and staining his heart black. He stared up at her in disbelief and before he knew it, his pain addressed her before he could shut his damn mouth.

"So, it's like that? Couple weeks apart and you ready to throw seven years away? Five of which I was your man when your other man couldn't make you happy. Five of which you strung me along knowin' how I feel 'bout you," Joe spat in a wavered tone, waving his hand that quivered a bit in the air.

He heard his hypocrisy, and he knew Golden could, as well, from how her arched eyebrows wildly knitted together, but he couldn't stop himself. He believed his pain mattered, too, and, like hers, it had a valve he worked to keep latched until her words smashed it open.

Yet he heard Golden's valve erupt at the same time, louder than the thunder outside, when she clapped her hands in his face and retorted, "Are you serious? You're talking to me like this ain't all your fault in the first place. I don't want to fucking hear it, Joe. Get up and get out of my house."

"Pssh, wow." He hoisted himself and loomed over her, his appalled eyes fixed on her apathetic ones before they fell to her chest he noticed fluttered with her hitched breaths. She noticed it, too, and folded her arms over it with a frustrated sigh to steady herself.

Joe knew her well enough to know she was indeed angry...but not angry enough to kick him out. Golden was little but strong and could wrestle him to the door if she wanted. Instead, they were wayward together with raw emotion flooding over and all around them. Raw emotion Joe knew he had to settle if he didn't want this to be the last time he ever saw her.

"Just tell me this and I'll go..." he said in a hushed tone. "Tell me you don't love me. Tell me you've fallen out of love with me."

She pursed her lips to tell him a lie but then she sucked her teeth. "Joe, get out of my house," Golden repeated under her breath and grabbed him by his forearm to haul him out of her den. Joe grabbed her hand, too, to hold to his chest where his heart pounded for her, noting the fight that left her eyes when she felt his gentle touch.

"Golden, please..." He softly squeezed her hand as he beseeched her. "'I love you with my whole heart. Let me prove it to you. Let me be the man you need."

He expected a rebuttal but he didn't expect her to slap him. The fight he thought he had melted away stung his cheek as she tried to jerk away from him.

"You don't fucking love me, Joe. Because when I wanted you to be my man and I fucking poured my heart out to you, what did you do? What did you do?! Now let me go!"

Golden struck him again and he took it, knowing that while he loathed it, he earned it, knowing he pushed her to it. But he didn't let her go. Rather he let her get it out of her system, his heart aching as much as his cheek and chest each time she hit him and broke into tears that streamed down her cheeks.

And each time he hit her back with the mere words, "I love you."

He would be tireless in his quest to love her as he knew she was the love of his life, and that fact seemed to wear her down as she raised her hand once more but suddenly dropped it and wept, "Then why did you hurt me?"

Joe secured her in his arms and felt her shudder against him with her sobs that threatened tears to well in his eyes, too. But he held himself together as he held her tight and declared in a low tone, "I was stupid. I didn't appreciate you when I should have...and all I want is to appreciate and love you the right way. Right now."

He kept his arm on Golden's waist and cupped her chin to tilt her wet face to look at him, praying that she could see the truth, the fucking desperation, in his gaze before he dipped his head down to press his lips to hers. His kiss was cautious, tasting her hurt, her doubt on his tongue—hurt he wanted to heal and doubt he needed to replace with confidence that he was capable of loving her in every way she deserved.

"Let me love you, sweetheart...please," Joe breathed between his kisses that made her sniffle. She didn't kiss him back but she didn't pull away from him, either, so he picked her up, her sniffle shifting to a little gasp as he threw her legs around his hips and carried her to her staircase, down her hall, and through her bedroom door. It was dark and he didn't feel it as urgent to flip the switch on her wall as it was to make love to her, the pale light from downstairs spilling across her bed where he lay her down.

True to her name, Golden's cocoa-brown and thick thighs were luminous even in the shadows as he kneeled between them. They were soft, too, as his hands caressed along them to take off her pajama shorts, his lips not far behind to kiss everywhere he touched. "I love you, Golden..." Joe whispered to her humid essence that he couldn't wait to devour, his gaze already devouring the sight of her propped up on her elbows with her gorgeous face on him.

Even though it was twisted into a scowl, he was determined to pacify it, whispering, "You're my everything," before he planted a long kiss on her essence. A faint moan escaped him to feel her velvety folds surround his tongue when he parted them. He heard her moan, too, as he slowly lapped at her, letting the airy sound guide him to her clit that he carefully traced with the letters of her beautiful name until she fell onto her back and cried out.

Her hands reached for him, her fingers messily digging into the hair he had slicked back into a bun, and he dug his fingers into her hips, his mouth suckling on and his fingertips teasing into the sweet nectar he coaxed from her with more of her moans that he replied to with more, "I love you, baby."

"I fucking hate you," Golden groaned to the ceiling but he felt her thighs beginning to shake around his head.

"Tell me to stop then, baby..." Joe paused long enough to groan back but filled the silence with another drag of his licks over her clit, another thrust of his fingertips along her g-spot, to fill his ears with her lovely noise.

He had never seen her like this before, so combative with her words yet so docile in his hands. It would have concerned him only if Golden shoved him back, yet her fingers remained buried in his hair, plucking it loose from his bun as she bucked her hips, letting his hair cascade over her lap, and shielding him from her bogus barrage of "I hate you." It only ceased as he made her shout instead with each throb of her dripping essence that he caught and catered to with attentive flicks of his tongue.

Yet she was still vexed, he could see it on her face that contorted from a scowl to a pout on her plump lips even as her body trembled around his thick fingers...which meant he wasn't finished yet.

Joe delicately slipped his fingers out to lick along with his glossy lips and wiped his glistening beard with the bottom of his shirt before he pulled it off altogether, as well as hers, and stepped out of his sweatpants. He watched her glare fall to his length that hung hard between his muscular thighs, certain he saw a glimmer of the woman he knew loved him just as much as he loved her...but then she quickly flitted her eyes away when he slid his hands up her body until he cradled her face to meet his gaze.

"Do you want me to stop, baby?" Joe asked her softly as he nestled himself on top of her, searching her brown eyes for approval to let him love her as thoroughly as he could.

"...Yes." It took a moment for Golden to muster up the word but it took him less than a second to ease off her. She scooted further up her bed to tuck her legs underneath herself as he stood there feeling more naked and vulnerable than he ever had in his entire life. It made her next words form a knife that stabbed his bare chest and pierced his blackened heart as she whispered, "You always try to 'fix' shit with your dick...it's not going to work this time."

"I...but we talked and—"

"And you ignored what I said thinking you could change my mind. I told you...you can't make this right. You need to go." Golden had that faraway look in her eyes again like she couldn't see him or his despair. It wrenched the knife in his heart and he winced.

"You also said you hate me and you and I both know that shit ain't true," Joe spoke despondently but he still couldn't move with that poison seeping into his blood again from his heart, from her.

"Yeah...but look where loving you has got me. Please, Joe...don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. Just go."

The heavy rain that hurled against her bedroom window came with a flash of lightning and a boom of rolling thunder he could feel beneath his feet. It sounded like the world was ending outside as Joe listened to his world tell him that this was the end.

He didn't want to do what she accused him of and neglect her words...but as he pulled back on his sweatpants, the little box in his pocket compelled him to retrieve it and murmur the words he realized he would never have a second chance to say than right here tonight.

Her lips fell open but nothing came out when Joe revealed the dainty yet elegant diamond-encrusted gold ring cushioned in the red silk padding.

"Lovin' you is all I'm meant to do, Golden. Will you marry me?"

Thanks for reading! 💜

🫶🏾 Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @visionarymode @miyuhpapayuh @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @weirdosandhopelessromantics @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @gomussy @theglamclosetsl @baeusos @2-muchsauce @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @romansnumberonegirl @twocentuar @claymorexpunisher @alichesmi

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x chubby oc #roman reigns x oc #black writers #spilled ink

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slippinninque · 7 months

Text

Fontaine likes pretty things

(and yes, that includes you too)

Soo, I don't even know where this came from? Maybe two things.

I just imagined Fontaine seeing something and going 'my baby would look good in that shit'.

And Fontaine would be his lady's #1 fan. Like, no questions asked.

(I also feel like he'll have some unconventional likings, y'know? i don't know lmao it's late)

I'm not sure how long it is, but I sure hope you enjoy it! All feedback appreciated!

warnings: 18+, cursing, use of the n-word, smoking, over all rambling of a sleep deprived writer

Your hair was finally the way you wanted.

Taking a step back, you couldn't resist putting your hands on your hips and muttering to yourself,

"Well, damn it he was right."

You looked good.

Plumb purple and soft, the lace basque was dotted with shimmering golden beading. The sweeping pattern accentuated the softness of your middle, the shapeliness of your thighs.

It wasn't that you didn't like your body, lingerie just made you feel...pressured to look perfect. This was different, though. Way different. You even added a spritz of your favorite perfume

The delicateness of the fabric had you nervous to put it on, but now that you were encased in it--you felt sensual. You felt--

"You gonna come out here and lemme see?"

You jumped and answered reflexively, "Yes!"

Fuck.

Before you could stall any longer, you left the bathroom and followed the low sound of music to the front room.

Fontaine made a noise like he felt something good just by looking at you.

He sat in the armchair puffing on a blunt as he rolled another, little clouds crowning him as he took his fill of you.

Fontaine took charge as soon as you came home from work. He had dinner waiting and a bath, only asking that you wear what was in the box that was placed on the sink's counter.

You came close enough to touch, "Well?"

Fontaine hummed and tilted his head to meet your gaze with open look of smug desire, "Don't 'well' me, girl. You like it, right?"

You bunched up your lips, looking around the living room with a neutral hum. You couldn't make it too easy for him.

He reached out to brush the backs of his knuckles along the lacey designs before him, "You said to me that if I got you something that you fuck with, I can get as much of it for you as I wanted."

Ah, fuck. "I did, I-I did say that."

"So that means...what?"

You felt the smile but aimed it up at the ceiling, "Means I can't say nothing but thank you when you bring it to me."

"Hn. Bet you didn't think your man was gonna know what you like?" Fontaine made a show of shaking his head, as if disappointed.

"Oh stop, it ain't gonna stop you from rubbing it in." You said, waving him away.

"Damn straight."

Fontaine slipped the blunt between your fingers, distracting you long enough for him to reach onto the side table to grab a thin box.

Your eyes widened as you watched him pluck off the top of the box to show glittering, matching stockings.

With that box in his lap, Fontaine looked up at you and wore that his best 'please, baby' face--completed by a kiss to your stomach.

What else could you do? You nod and took pull.

"That's my girl."

Fontaine deftly rolled the first stocking down and when you stepped into it, he gently fitted the fabric up your calf. His wide hand smoothed up from your ankle to your thigh, attaching the small clasp of the basque.

When he leaned in to nip at the fabric stretched over your knee, you realized the gold beading matched his grills. Rubbing his cheek in the same spot, you shivered when you felt his beard tug.

You hit the blunt hard a few more times before leaning over him to flick it into the ashtray. Fontaine inhaled, catching the scent of your perfume and groaning softly.

'This man is out of control.'

"These go fuckin' perfect." His words brought you out of your head, "Pretty, pretty girl."

Fontaine always touched you with absolute focus and this time was no different. Helping your other foot into the stocking and clasp, rubbing and kneading your skin until the praises he muttered melted you down.

"You look so fucking good, baby." his voice was rougher than it had been all night, "Ain't nothing pinching? Anythin' feel loose?"

"It feels good. I really do like it, 'Taine, promise."you said as you went into his lap and looped your arms around his neck, "I want to know what else you want to see me in."

Fontaine ran a hand along your flank, "Maybe...Maybe some heels."

"Mhm. I'd wear them for you." You struck your legs in your best attempt at a pin-up pose and watched Fontaine's eyes trace the line "I want the ones with the little pom-pom. Y'know, classy."

Fontaine bounced you in his lap in protest, " 'Course you would. I wanna see that ass in them-in them pointy shits. What are they called?"

"Pointy shits."

Fontaine smacked his lips and you shrugged a shoulder, reaching for the blunt again. Fontaine grabbed the one he tucked behind his ear in time to share a flame with you.

You watched him watch you, unable to stop the grin from forming as he ran his finger tips over beads and lace.

"So...you're going to stare at me all night?"

That grin slipped and gave way to an open look of hunger. Fontaine's hold turned into a soft grip, pulling you closer to him so he could finally kiss you. Slow, searing, promising--over too soon.

When he pulled back, he pressed his cheek to yours.

"Go in our room and put on the pink one. I'll tear that shit up off you--this one's my favorite."

You jerked back, blinking at him.

Now you knew this man was about to be on, but maybe you could beat him there...

You were up on your feet and hurrying to the bedroom and Fontaine was only a beat behind you.

#this is my first fic #enjoy!#fontaine x black reader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine fic #fontaine will call you pretty before your actual name #fontaine likes pretty thing even if he doesnt know the names of said pretty things #this dude went to the shop and said he wanted you to look like an expensive lil cupcake lmao

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aesthetic-babyyy · 6 months

Text

Needed you~ Castiel Novak imagine

Warnings// fluff, a lotta angst and implied smut

Word count//1626

(Gif from Pinterest)

"it's my life Dean and I can take as many damn risks as I want, especially when it comes to hunting" you yelled back at him your face growing redder by the second

"Hey Cas what's up?" Deans gruff voice came from the phone "well I'm not happy considering I found Y/N crying alone " Cas replied annoyed

"That's really sweet of you cas I really needed a friend tonight" you leaned in giving the angel a hug which he was hesitant to reciprocate, still getting used to human antics

It was a message from Dean…

____________________________________________

Hi everyone, I’ve been a little inactive as I have decided to make a new account because I unfortunately cannot remember the password to this account, i will tag it here and I promise I will be producing lots of supernatural one shots…. Possibly including a part 2 of this that may turn into a dean imagine… I’m a dean girl sorry also Maybe some marvel too, thanks so much for the support on this account, don’t worry I won’t delete what I have now, I may repost on my new account but for the people that have liked my work thus far I will keep it right here!

My new account is @deanwinchestersbabygirll

I will also tag it on my main profile, thanks again, enjoy this little Castiel imagine ❤️

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glenechoslasher · 2 months

Note

Could I have a John x fem reader where the reader reacts to John winning (but still beat tf up) in a bar fight?

Thanks bestie <3

Eyyy of COURSE you can bestie?! I have been practicing writing John, and I may not be the best, but I think I'm confident in my abilities. I think. But here, have a fun, flirty little brawl with your man~

"Trouble" ||

John Marston x f!Reader

Length: 2.1k

Rating: Mature: Mentions of blood, fighting, language

How John ended up in this situation was honestly beyond him, it was just an innocent outing with you and him running some errands for the ranch, and yet he was getting fist after fist pounded into his face.

After a long day of working, you could tell he was going stir-crazy. His old life was all about freedom and running around, doing things to bring in money or just getting to do as he pleased, but now? He was on a ranch, pretending to be someone he wasn’t to get by, and his trigger finger was beginning to itch. But to make you happy, to keep your heads low, and to survive, John had to behave and live as his persona for the time being.

“So, Jim,” you said with a smirk, “maybe we should stop at a saloon since it’s getting dark, we could eat a decent meal, maybe stay in a hotel for the night. I’m tired,” you sighed and leaned your head against the man’s shoulder.

John matched your sigh and flicked the reigns on the horses as he pulled them to the right, heading into Valentine's territory, which he hadn’t expected to be back here so soon. “I mean, it is a long way back, we could use the rest. And I am starvin’, could use something that isn’t a stew for once.”

You both pulled the wagon off and made sure the horses were comfortable, hitched to a nearby post, and then John helped you down to the ground and smiled wide with his arm wrapped around your waist. “Well, let’s get inside, maybe we can get a bath before bed, too,” he said softly with a smirk. He pulled you along and walked beside you, looking around the town that felt so different from when he was last here.

As you both entered the saloon, you definitely could tell that the environment was more lively, but you both tried to keep your wits about you as you ordered some food and sat in the corner, away from the rowdy group of people. The food was delicious and the conversation you shared was pleasant, as usual, but John couldn't shake the feeling that eyes kept falling on you both. He'd look away from you as he stopped mid-sentence to see one of the men staring at the both of you, but he tried to pay no mind, you were taking his attention.

The food was finished and you both were feeling content, the party of people in the saloon only grew larger in number and louder in volume, so you both figured it was time to head out to the hotel for the evening. John allowed you to walk out first so he could follow behind you, but you had barely gotten several steps toward the door when one of the men stepped in front of your path, blocking you from the exit.

“Hey there now, y'all ain't plannin’ on comin’ over to celebrate with us?”

“Sorry, friend, but we have other plans to attend to,” John answered firmly.

The man just scoffed, the reek of booze was strong on his breath, it was a wonder he was still standing. “Aww c'mon, my friend over there is gettin’ married, you could have one drink to congratulate him!”

“Sorry sir, but we don't even know you,” you said sharply, stepping back from him, and bumping into John. You felt a bit more at ease since he was here.

“And? You ain't heard of makin’ friends?” The man chuckled and grabbed your arm, pulling you along toward the table. He then decided to yank your arm and attempt to pull you over toward the table, but John stepped up and grabbed his wrist hard.

“We ain't interested, sir. My woman and I are heading out for the evenin’, so maybe next time you should use your brain and not touch a lady when she says no.”

John pushed the man away so you both had room to leave, but some of the drunk’s friends decided to get involved.

John stepped up protectively, his spine stiffened as his hand hovered over the knife that was holstered, hidden beneath his jacket. “Sir, you got till the count of three to back off and leave us alone,” he warned.

There had been a taller man who stood up from the table and interjected, pushing his friend gently off to the side. “Are you threatenin’ us?” He snapped.

“I ‘spose I am,” John retorted, holding his ground as he pushed you further behind him to shield you.

Another of the man's friends stepped up and tried to land a surprise swing on John, but he pushed you out of the way and took the hook to his shoulder. After that, John was brawling with several of the men who ganged up on you both. The one in the red shirt had tried to grab John to put him in a headlock so his friends could take their turns wailing on him, but your John was fast. He elbowed Red and kicked his leg in, causing the man to fall flat on his face.

That was one down—three more to go.

“I ain’t been in a bar fight in a long time,” John commented as he had both arms up, ready to block any attacks if needed, “but I’d rather continue my night with my lady if you gentlemen don’t mind.”

The three other men all ignored him and each one tried to punch him at different intervals to throw him off, but somehow, John managed to throw one man into the other and watched as the two tumbled straight into a table. The others who occupied the saloon were standing back and vacating the building. The bartender just sighed and walked off, not wanting to be part of yet another brawl. That left you, standing on the stairs away from the tussle.

The gunslinger looked back and you, making sure you were out of harm's way, then he got back to it. The two men who collided with the table were too drunk to stand, and all they did was stumble over one another. There was one left standing, and he was a little larger than the others.

“Look, I can just leave, no reason you gotta get involved,” John said nonchalantly, his stance easing up a little.

The man just glared down at him and he scoffed at the offer. “You ruined my engagement celebration, mister, I don’t take so kind to that.”

John just sighed and lifted his hands again, balling them into fists. “Alright then, have it your way,” he replied.

The man took a fast step forward and swung his fist straight at John’s jaw, and if it weren’t for the speed, maybe John would have dodged it, instead, he got nicked against his chin, which still caught him enough to cause some pain. That was all the distraction the man needed to step in and lunge at John, his larger body barreled into him and tackled him to the floor.

You let out a yelp, terrified that the man was going to have a one-up on John, and all you could do was watch in fear as your hands gripped the railing in fear.

The gunslinger was pinned onto the floor as the man above him threw punch after punch, landing a blow on his cheek, and almost breaking his nose at one point. John held up his arms to block and tried his best to use the strength from his legs to somehow get him to slip off, and he managed to throw the man off of him for a split second. He scrambled to find some balance, then rolled off to the side as the man recovered.

“Give up yet?” John asked with a smirk on his face as he licked the blood from his split lip, the bruises on his face forming fast.

The man just yelled out in frustration and then John had him in a blind frenzy, which made any man messy in a fight. John ducked from the swing and swung his right arm quickly, the blow landed in the side of the man’s temple, stunning him momentarily. Then it was over, John was finally standing over him and landing punch after punch in the man’s face until he fell unconscious. The gunslinger released the man’s collar, allowing his body to fall slack onto the wooden floor.

He looked up at you, panting to catch his breath as he straightened his posture. The people who occupied the saloon had all either hidden somewhere or run off, and there were just the two of you left with the pile of unconscious men scattered about on the floor. You waited a moment before hesitantly walking down the stairs to run into his arms, thankful he was alright despite being a little black and blue.

“As always you’re my hero,” you chuckled and reached up to touch his face, wiping away a smear of blood from his lip.

“And as always, we’re both gettin’ into trouble,” he replied gruffly.

You just scoffed. “We?”

“Well yeah, you’re my accomplice, partner in crime, ain’t you?” He asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus you’re the one always gettin’ the attention,” John teased as he slipped his arm through yours. He pulled you along and threw a couple of bills onto the countertop, then escorted you outside and across the muddly way, leading you straight to the hotel.

You both walked inside, the environment a complete flip from the saloon, and you were more at ease now, and even more thankful when you saw the list of services. The gentleman behind the counter stopped sweeping the floor and greeted you both with a kind smile.

“Howdy, how can I help y’all this evenin’?” He looked between the both of you with concern but didn’t voice them.

Your eyes looked over at John with a smile and then back at the desk man. “One bath and one room, please.”

The man smiled and got everything situated for you both, you thanked him and paid, then pulled John up the stairs to the bath. He followed obediently and cracked his neck as he ascended the stairs with you, groaning.

“Sleepin’ is gonna be a bitch, I just know it,” he complained.

“Well if you behaved for five minutes you wouldn’t have to worry about it, would you?” You scolded playfully as you looked over your shoulder at him. “He got some good hits in, but not gonna lie, Mister Marston, you looked really good kickin’ his ass.” You flashed him a cheeky smile and continued to lead him to the bath. “You go get cleaned up, I’ll get the room ready.”

You almost walked away, leaving him in front of the bath door, but his hand grabbed your wrist, and then he pulled you back toward him, falling into him as his arms wrapped around you. “Yeah? You think I looked good, huh?” He asked flirtatiously, pulling you close so his face was mere inches from yours. “Then why do you think you can just leave me here alone?” “John Marston, are you implyin’ I’m gonna join you in your bath?” You gasped, faux shock crossed your features.

All he could do was smile, the raised edges of the scars across his face made his face look extra handsome, and the dim lighting in the hall only made you admire his face even more. “Nah, I’m declarin’ that you are, unless you don’t wanna?” His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you into the most tender kiss he could manage.

When he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open and you just stared up at him with a lovestruck smile. “Well, when you put it that way…”

That was all the confirmation he needed, so he opened the door to the readied hot bath, pulling you in after him, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he closed the door behind you both. You sighed as he leaned your hands against his chest, just smiling up at him with that look.

“I know that look, what is it?”

“Nothin’, you’re just trouble, John Marston,” you said softly, your hand cupped his cheek again, mindful of how gentle you had to be. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world, you know that, right?”

The man looked down at you and pulled you into another kiss, pulling away a moment later with that charming smile you were unable to resist, his hand reached up to brush your hair away from your face so he could see the light in those pretty eyes of yours. Just a minor setback to your shared evening, but John always had ways to make it up to you.

#Tinalbion writings #john marston #john marston drabble #john marston writing #writing drabble #writing ask #rdr #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption john marston #john marston x reader #john marston x you #john marston x f!reader #comfort #angst #fluff #afab reader #vidjausers-fable

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b4b3tte · 7 months

Text

MAY THE BEST MAN WIN PART 2

꒰ ⊹ ˚ Summary — Erron black decides to test the waters by flirting with you in front of Kano, but with him having some slight possessive nature,, he cannot let that happen any further without going down with a challenge

Description on this part — Basically Another flirty remarks made towards you, but you,Erron,Kano are set on a mission but Kano is dead set on making sure Erron isn’t making moves on you. ( Also getting closer to Erron!)

Pairing — Erron!Black x GN!Reader X Kano!Mk11

My note — RAHH I’m so surprised people actually liked this!! I am so glad!! 2 people asked for a request so sorry if I couldn’t reply and edit this on the inbox but here it is, hopefully it meets up towards your expectations!! And to make it clear you can be female,Male,Nonbinary to read this I wanna make my works inclusive as possible, I’ve gotten a lot of nsfw requests so if you want to read my guidelines for it please let me know

Another night at the black dragon fighting club, Kano, never one to back down, leaned in closer to you, his voice dripping with mischief. "Y'know, luv, I'd hate to see that charming smile of yours go to waste. Why don't you give the dangerous life a break and join me for a night on the town?"

Erron Black, on the other hand, wasn't about to let Kano have the last word. He leaned in with an even smoother tone, trying to maintain his suave demeanor. "Or, darling, you can take a walk on the wild side with me. I promise you won't regret it."

Your eyes darted between the two men, both vying for your attention. It was clear that they were willing to pull out all the stops to win you over.

With a roll of your eyes and a corner smirk that matched Kano's characteristic sarcasm, you decided to play along. "Well, gentlemen, it seems I'm in quite the predicament. I'm afraid I can't choose just yet."

Kano let out a triumphant laugh, while Erron raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your response. It seemed that your playful banter only fueled their determination to win your favor.

Kano, refusing to back down, chimed in with a sly grin. "Smart choice, luv. Keeps us on our toes, it does."

Erron nodded in agreement. "Ain't that the truth. We'll just have to keep impressing you."

You replied with a smart “ have fun trying to fulfill that “ You proceeded to walk away leaving them only hearing the sound of your shoes/Heels clicking the floor

As the banter continued, it took on a playful and even absurd tone. Kano and Erron found themselves exchanging increasingly outrageous and amusing suggestions to win your attention, all while keeping their charismatic personas intact.

You couldn't help but be entertained by the entire spectacle. It was clear that this competition was far from over, and you were content to sit back and enjoy the attention. Despite the chaos and rivalry surrounding you, you found yourself in a rather unique and amusing position, with Kano and Erron Black both trying to capture your interest.

One day you, Erron, Kano, Sektor, and many robot replicas and trained men, you were all sent to capture Johnny, Sonya, or at least Cassie to gain something beneficial, you and Erron went alone first along the military base and caught a moment alone between you two

As the mission continued, you guys found yourselves stationed in a quiet corner of the underground facility, momentarily away from the action. The air was heavy with tension, but the two of you took a moment to breathe from the previous shooting of protection and exchanged a few quiet words.

Erron Black, his charming facade momentarily down, turned to you. "You know, darlin', we’ve never gotten a chance to talk like this in the middle of a mission."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. "That's true. it feels like we're constantly on the move, sometimes I wish I weren’t so involved in everything "

Erron's voice softened as he looked at you as he has never had a personal conversation before with someone he works with . "I know it's a dangerous world, but there's something about you, something that keeps me coming back for more."

You met his gaze, there was a moment were you both looked in each others eyes then lips, the connection between you deepening in that quiet moment. "It's not easy to navigate this whole process, but having someone like you during the process..makes it a little less…daunting."

Erron just slightly moved closer to you, you add your pinky finger on top of his hand making eye contact with him, Just as he was about to say more, Kano's voice erupted through the radio, dripping with jealousy and irritation. "Oi, lovebirds, we've got a situation here! Stop playin' around and get back to work, This ain't the time for touchy-feely nonsense."

Erron, unfazed, shot back, "Seems like someone's feathers are ruffled. Can't handle a little human connection, Kano?"

Kano's response was a low, menacing growl. "I'm watchin' you, Erron. Don't get too comfortable."

Erron Black let out a quiet chuckle, and the two of you returned to the mission at hand. Kano's tone didn't go unnoticed, and it was clear he wasn't pleased with the intimacy he had just witnessed.

As you moved forward, Kano's attitude became increasingly disruptive even at the slight normal conversations almost every one has . He couldn't hide the jealousy that coursed through him, and his comments through the radio were laced with irritation and impatience.

Another smart remark flashed the both of you, when you and Erron accidentally bumped into each other from you walking to fast and not looking where you were walking at, and your guys hand glided on top of each other sorta like this ( click on the link on the word “ This “ )

Kano's voice crackled again. "You two best be focused on the mission instead of holdin' hands. We're here to capture Johnny, not exchange sweet nothings."

Erron Black shot back, his own irritation evident. "You're just jealous, Kano. Afraid you're losin' your grip on your precious Y/n."

Kanos extreme annoyance just exploded “ you shouldn’t even be picking at what should be mine “

Erron leaned in, his voice a low murmur, "Seems our mate Kano is struggling with the concept of sharing."

You chuckled, the irony not lost on you. "I never thought I'd be the center of a love triangle in the middle of a mission."

Erron's grin widened. "Well, darlin', life is full of surprises. But you can bet Kano won't make this easy."

Kano rolled his eyes again as usual “ god damnit black, quit your gobsmackin with y/n We're not on a damn date. Focus on the mission!"

Erron shot back, his voice filled with mischief, "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Kano. Maybe you should try being a bit more charming like me."

The tension between the two men was palpable, and it seemed that the love triangle had reached a boiling point. You couldn't help but feel the weight of their rivalry and the complexities of your relationships.

The love triangle between Kano, Erron Black, and you continued to play out, each interruption and intimate moment adding to the complexities of your relationships. The question remained: who would ultimately capture your heart in the end?

Thanks for reading!! I really appreciate it!! Have any other requests? Put it in my inbox and I’ll start writing it!! Have an amazing day or night Besitos!!💋💋

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willalove75 · 10 months

Note

Hi im the anon who asked for Rebecca x Pregnant!reader. Now looking back I feel I didn’t give detail to my request so if it’s not a problem. Would you be able to write Rebecca with pregnant!reader and she visit Rebecca at work and they meet ted and the team etc. or they watch a match together and reader goes into labour. Your writing is amazing💕

Hello again anon!! Thank you so much for adding some details to your request! It's absolutely not a problem at all!💕 I hope you enjoy!

Gif source

"Good mornin' boss!" Ted says, happy as ever on his usual morning stroll into Rebecca's office. "I got you your favorite!"

"Good morning Ted, thank you!" Rebecca says as she eagerly grabs the little pink box from his hands.

"I also got a little extra today for that beautiful wife of yours!" Ted places a second pink box onto Rebecca's desk.

"Oh Ted, how kind! She is going to love them!"

"Don't mention it boss. Although I gotta say, I know we were all at the wedding and all, but I'm beginning to think the whole thing was just a ruse and that she don't actually exist." Rebecca gives Ted a look and he chuckles. "You two have been married for how long? And I've only met her twice, including yall's nuptials."

"Well Ted, we've been very busy, and now that the baby's due date is coming up things have been even busier."

"Ya'll should come to the game this weekend! I know the baby is due soon but it'll give you both the chance to hang out and have some fun before the real fun starts!"

"Ted, I don't know-"

"I ain't takin' no for an answer unless she calls me and tells me no herself!"

"Alright Ted, I will speak to her about it tonight."

"Alrighty then! Catch ya on the flipside, boss!"

As you're laying on the couch, flipping through channels, you're beginning to realize that there's nothing good on tv anymore. No more good shows to just throw on when you're bored. Luckily, right before you feel like you're about to die from boredom the front door opens.

Rebecca walks into the house and closes the door, immediately kicking off her shoes and hanging her coat on the coatrack. Looking up, she sees you slowly sitting up on the couch.

"Hello there my love." She says with a warm smile.

"Hi baby, how was your day?"

You go to stand up and it takes you a few tries before you can even begin to pull yourself up off of the couch.

"Be careful! Here, let me help you." Rebecca says, rushing to your side.

"I'm okay baby, don't worry."

Rebecca helps you stand and cups your face in her hands.

"I know my love, but I can't help but worry."

Even without shoes on, Rebecca towers over you, so you get up on your tip toes and softly kiss her.

"You're adorable."

"Never more adorable than you."

A slight blush creeps across your cheeks and you wrap your arms around her and hug her tight. Damn hormones.

"How was your day?"

"The usual, busy as always. Oh! Before I forget-" Rebecca walks away from your grasp and you pout. She grabs her purse and walks back over to you after pulling out a little pink box. "Ted made an extra box of biscuits just for you."

"Aw! He shouldn't have-" you open the box and the sweet scent of biscuits fills your nose. "Oh my god." You moan and your eyes roll back a little. "These smell amazing."

Rebecca looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"What?"

"I've never seen anyone or anything other than me make you make that face before." She says with a wink.

"Rebecca Welton!"

Rebecca laughs and pulls you in for a kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Oh, and Ted was on my case once again about meeting you and invited you to the match this weekend, but I told him it probably wasn't going to happen."

"Why not?"

Rebecca looks a little surprised.

"Well I know how tired you've been and the baby is due soon and I don't want to overwhelm you."

"You're adorable, but I would love to go see a match. It would be nice to get out of the house for a little while anyway."

"Are you sure? You don't think it'll be too much?"

"Baby I'll be fine, I promise. Let's go and have some fun."

Rebecca gazes into your eyes and you feel like you've fallen in love all over again. Her emerald green eyes pull you in so deeply you forgot where you were for a moment. You're brought back to earth when she leans down and gently kisses you.

The rest of the week flies by and before you know it, it's game day. It's also two weeks before your due date, something that both you and Rebecca are so excited about, but you can tell her anxiety is starting to sky rocket.

"Are you sure you're okay with going? There's some stairs and a little bit of walking, the seats aren't comfortable and we'll be in them for a few hours." She rambles on while pacing back and fourth.

"Baby," you say, trying to pull her out of her spiral, but she doesn't stop. "baby!" Rebecca finally stops and turns towards you. Walking up to her, you cup her face with your hands and look deeply into her eyes. "Everything will be fine, don't worry, okay? We're going to go, have a wonderful time, come home and go right to sleep, okay? I'll be fine, I promise."

Rebecca stares back into your eyes for a few moments before nodding her head. You pull her down and bring her in for a kiss. Her body relaxes into yours when your lips meet and she lets out a peaceful sigh.

"Ready?"

"I'm ready when you are my love."

The two of you get into the car and head to the stadium. You both decided to get there a little early to say hi to everyone since you've only met most of them once or twice before.

Rebecca leads you into the locker room and the room goes silent when she walks in.

"Good afternoon boys, good luck out there today! I want to introduce you all to my wife, y/n."

As if it was rehearsed, all of the boys greet you at the same time.

"Hi everyone, it's great to finally meet you all!"

"Well I'll be darned! You sure do exist!" Ted says as he walks out of his office. "You owe me 20 bucks." He says to Coach Beard who pulls out a £20 and slaps it into Ted's hand.

"Hello Ted, you remember y/n, y/n, you remember Ted."

"How could I ever forget my favorite boss' wife?!" He says as he pulls you in for a hug. "How're ya feelin'? You're due soon, right?"

"I'm feeling really good. I feel gigantic, but good. And yes, the due date is two weeks from today actually!"

"Well how about that! Coach Beard, get over here!" Coach Beard walks over to the three of you and he nods at Rebecca, who nods back. "Coach, you remember y/n, right?"

"Could never forget her. How are you?"

"I've been good!"

"Hey! Roy! Nate! Get your butts over here and welcome our guest of honor!"

Roy and Nate walk over and you all greet each other. You only met Nate one other time, at your wedding. He's sweet but very nervous, but in a cute way almost. Roy you've met a bunch of times, you, Rebecca, Roy and Keeley have gone on your fair share of double dates over the last few years and you've gotten to know him quite well.

Rebecca introduces you to some of the players, some of them comment on how you're glowing. One player, Jan Maas, says something about how large you look and every one of his teammates groans and throws their towels at him. That made you laugh so hard you almost peed yourself.

After mingling for a little while, Rebecca brings you out to the stands to your seats. Keeley and Higgins eventually join you and before you know it, the match it starting.

As the boys play, the crowd goes wild. Both teams are giving it their all and it quickly turns into an intense match. Richmond shoots and the other teams goalie just barely knocks it away. The other team takes the ball across the pitch and shoots. Zoreaux dives, catching it in a perfect save.

Just before half-time Colin has the ball and is running down the pitch, he passes it to Jamie who looks like he's about to kick the ball into the goal but instead kicks it across to Sam who sinks it into the net.

The crowd goes wild, all four of you jump out of your seats in excitement as chanting rings out into the stadium.

Half-time comes and goes and the match starts up once more. Both teams come back with a fire in their hearts and play with even more passion than they had in the first half. Jamie gets possession of the ball and sprints to the other end of the pitch, right before he's about to score a player from the other team slide tackles him and kicks the ball away to his teammate.

A collective "ohhh" echoes through the crowd and you feel a cramp in your abdomen that causes you to bend forward a little.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca says, her eyes instantly filling with worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine baby, I promise."

A few minutes later, another cramp appears and you take a deep breath as you breathe through it. Rebecca looks at you with concern and you give her a reassuring smile. The two of you turn your attention back to the intense game and she grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze. You can tell just by the way she's gripping onto your hand that she's nervous, when you look over at her you can see her thoughts going a million miles a minute.

Just as you're about to comfort her, another, much stronger cramp hits and you double over gasping for air. Before anyone can react you feel a gush between your legs like you just peed yourself.

"Oh shit."

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" Rebecca says in a panic.

Looking over at Rebecca you see worry and fear painted across her face. It breaks your heart a little seeing her so scared.

"I'm okay, but don't panic, alright?" Rebecca stares at you silently and you grab her hand. "I'm fine, however, I'm pretty sure my water just broke."

"WHAT?!"

"NO FUCKIN WAY!" Keeley yells.

"Rebecca! Baby, calm down, it's okay!"

"I knew we shouldn't have come here, god damnit."

"Hey, hey, listen to me." You say, cupping her face. "Look at me, it's okay. Everything is okay. The match isn't why this is happening-"

"But you're not due for another two weeks!"

"It's okay, remember what the doctor said? I can go into labor as early as 38 weeks and that's totally normal. Okay?"

Rebecca nods her head with her eyes still filled with worry. Another cramp, which you're pretty sure is a contraction at this point, hits.

"Shit!" You say, grabbing Rebecca's hand. Breathing through it, Rebecca rubs your back and gives Keeley a worried look. Once it passes you look back up at Rebecca. "Everything is fine, however, we should definitely go to the hospital now."

"Yes, you guys go, we'll take care of everything else here, right Higgins?" Keeley says.

"Yes! Of course!"

"Right, yes, okay. Come on, let me grab your things, uh- my jacket, shit, my purse-" Frantically, Rebecca grabs both of your things and helps you stand up. She leads you out of the stadium and into the car and the driver takes you to the hospital.

The labor was long and painful but once they placed the epidural the pain was much easier to deal with. After the doctor came in to examine you again she said it was time to push.

With your legs in the stirrups and Rebecca's hand in yours, you begin to push. Every time you felt that now familiar pressure you pushed, you felt like you were going at it for hours, even though it had only been thirty minutes.

Exhaustion begins to take over and you feel yourself losing steam. You lay back for a minute to take a breath and Rebecca looks into your eyes.

"You're so close my love, she's almost here. Just a little more. I'm so proud of you, you're doing such an amazing job." She gently brushes a strand of hair out of your face and smiles at you. After a minute you feel the pressure again and push harder than you have before.

Just when you think you can't keep going, the most beautiful cry rings out into the delivery room. As you lay back the doctor places the baby in your lap and they dry her off. Carefully, you bring your hand to her head and caress her with your thumb. Rebecca's grip on your arm tightens and you look over at her to find that she has tears streaming down her face.

The nurse whisks the baby away and you reach up and wipe Rebecca's tears away.

"She's perfect." She whispers.

"She is." You say with a smile.

After a few minutes the nurse comes back with the baby and hands her to Rebecca. Moving over to Rebecca can sit next to you, she claims the spot and looks down at your daughter with wonder in her eyes.

The next few days were a whirlwind, learning how to breastfeed and to get the baby to latch, recovering from giving birth, just adjusting to the new life the two of you stepped into. It's been chaos but also beautiful.

As you're laying in bed with the baby in your arms, Rebecca is sitting on the recliner reading her book. Everything is peaceful and for the first time since giving birth, you're both actually relaxed. A knock on the door takes your attention away.

"Knock knock!" You hear, accompanied by a distinctive southern accent.

"Ted! What are you doing here?" Rebecca says, getting up from her spot.

"Well I heard we got a new member to our Richmond family and Beard and I couldn't say no to givin' 'em a visit!"

Coach Beard steps into the room along with Keeley, Roy, Higgins and a few other players from the team.

"How did you manage to get so many people in here?"

"Southern charm goes a long way in these parts." Beard says.

The baby gets passed around a little, Beard and Roy both declining the opportunity to hold her. The second the baby is placed into Keeley's arms she sobs and sinks into the chair Rebecca was sitting in. It came as a surprise to no one that the second Keeley got her, no one else got to hold her for the rest of the visit.

The team brought lunch, something you were grateful for because you were sick of hospital food at that point.

Beard comes into the room with extra chairs, where he got them from, you have no idea but no one dares to question it.

Everyone takes a seat and you all eat lunch together. This is the most one-on-one time you've spent with everyone. Even though it's kind of weird that it's happening in the hospital after you give birth, it was nice really getting to know everyone finally.

As everyone was finishing up their lunch, the nurse comes back in and it taken back by how many people were in the room.

"Hello everyone!" She says.

"Howdy, I'm Ted Lasso, great to meet ya!" Ted says, getting up to shake her hand.

"I'm Rose, y/n's nurse, there are a lot of you in here, wow."

"Yeah, well, ya know, southern charm still goes a long way overseas."

"I can see that! Unfortunately, the lactation nurse will be here in a few minutes so I'm going to have to ask everyone to leave."

"Oh sure, not a problem at all, right team?" Everyone nods. "Well, we'll get outta your hair."

Everyone starts to say their goodbyes and Keeley tries to walk out with the baby before Roy stops her. Reluctantly, she turns around and hands you your daughter.

"Auntie Keeley loves you so much." She says with tears in her eyes and gives her a kiss on her head. "You guys made the cutest fucking baby I've ever seen."

"Congratulations boss, y/n, she sure is a beauty." Ted says.

"Thank you, Ted." Rebecca says and gives him a hug.

"Thanks Ted, she's perfect." You say, looking down at the infant in your arms.

"I'll catch ya'll later!"

After another day in the hospital, you're finally discharged and able to go home.

Rebecca carries the car seat inside and the two of you take the baby up to the nursery.

After you take the baby out of her car seat, you sit on the rocking chair and feed her before laying her in her crib. After the baby is fed, Rebecca takes her and lays her in the crib. She fusses for a minute and Rebecca starts to softly sing.

You wrap your arms around Rebecca while she sings to the baby and you rest your head on her chest. With on hand gently caressing the baby's cheeks, Rebecca wraps her other arm around you and pulls you tightly into her. As she sings, the baby calms down and within a few minutes she's asleep.

Standing there with your wife, watching over your new daughter as she sleeps, you're the happiest you've ever been.

Rebecca brings her hand to your chin and tilts your face up towards her.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Rebecca."

She leans down and places a soft but firm kiss on your lips. Nothing could ever take away the love and joy that's filling your heart right now.

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #wlw fanfic #ted lasso #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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sourlemonsprout · 4 months

Note

imagine Alphonse going to hang out at Boo’s house and hearing them singing (really well) from inside, which he finds interesting seeing as he can seem to recall them claiming that they don’t sing

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𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓈

Alphonse x gn!reader

Word Count: 719

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"Sorry Boo, I'm running late. I'll be there in about 20ish min?"

Perfect

Even though you knew this cookie and movie date had been in the books for weeks, of course, you left cleaning to the very last minute. It didn't help that you spent the whole morning getting ready. But to be fair, you felt super cute in your baggy jeans, white tee, and a little red bandana that was tied around your head and matched perfectly with your shoes. You stood in the middle of the living room and sighed, with a sharp twist, you cracked your back before chugging the rest of an energy drink and getting to work. No cleaning session would be complete without some jams, so you threw on your favorite playlist and sang your heart out as you picked up blankets, half-empty water bottles, and pillows around the place.

You had completely lost track of time, unaware that Al was running even later than originally stated. The house was practically picture-perfect in no time, you were incredibly productive, and better yet, you were having fun. Not wanting to lose this streak of productivity, you started prepping for the treats you planned to bake for the day. Mise en place!

Alphonse's lungs were screaming as he ran up the stairs to the front of your house, worried you were mad because you hadn't answered his last few texts. His hand was just inches away from the door when he froze in his tracks. A lively song with an electric melody was audible, but it was the sweet, velvety smooth voice that stood out despite being slightly muffled by the door. He wasn't entirely sure if it was you for a moment, but as he crept closer and held his ear near the door, there was no doubt that it was indeed your beautiful voice. He'd recognize it anywhere.

You typically left the front door unlocked for him whenever he was coming over. As silently as possible, he opened the door a crack and slipped in, trying not to disrupt your enchanting concert. He watched breathlessly as you were lost in your own world.

As you swayed with the melody that filled the room, your eye caught the reflection in the microwave of a pink-haired figure in the room behind you.

Your heart dropped and hands went cold, and you let out a startled yelp as you spun to face the intruder. You froze, mortified, the music carrying on without you in the background.

"Holy shit!" you blurt out. Al's face pulled into a downward smile, and a small huff of air blew from his nose.

"Sorry Boo, I didn't mean to startle ya. I just didn't want to interrupt," he explained.

"How long have you been standing there?!" you squeak, pressing a hand against your chest, with fingers splayed wide as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing a thousand miles a minute.

"A hot minute. I'm pretty sure when I suggested we do a karaoke date, you told me you couldn't sing. Like, you were adamant you couldn't sing, you wanna explain that?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah well, it's embarrassing," you protest, feeling your ears and cheeks burn rosy pink. He sauntered over to where you stood, stopping just before you, and placing his hands on his hips.

"Do you want me to sing for you? Would that make you feel better?" he asks with a chuckle, pulling you into a big hug.

"Nono, that's ok!" you laugh into his chest, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist.

"You ain't got nothin' to be embarrassed about Boo, your singing was gorgeous," He paused, gazing into your eyes, and brushed the hair from your face.

"Just like you."

You looked at him, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. You took a shaky deep breath.

"I love you," you whispered before stretching up on your tippy toes to kiss him. As you broke apart, Alphonse eyed up the goodies lined up behind you.

"Can I please eat some of the cookie dough this time…?" he said with puppy eyes.

"No." you roll your eyes, pushing at his chest playfully, but it was no use you couldn't escape his arms that wrapped tighter around you as he swept in for another kiss.

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The End <3

Sorry this took so long, but thanks again for the request!!

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice fandom #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice stuff #fanfic #yuurivoice fanfic #yv fanfic #yuurivoice boo #fluff #writting #req #gn reader #sourlemonsprout

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greyspirehollow · 22 days

Text

Prepare for trouble - Make it double

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x (demon) Reader Fandom : The Arcana visual novel Warnings : science (I'm not good with warnings) ; discussion of experiments ; probably inaccurate depiction of said science (like it's probably not how it works, I ain't no scientist, I'm an artist)

Summary : To make sure you live as long as your beloved, you went our of your way to make a deal with the Devil. The downsides? You have the same morbid curiosities and fascinations as your dearest, though you specialize in another field...

It had been a few months since you made your deal. Things had changed, of course, but you felt as if the sacrifices you made were little in comparison to spending eternity by Valdemar's side. And you couldn't have possibly done that without giving up your humanity... But you knew you had done the right thing. Everything had become more tender with the Quaestor, it seemed they'd finally allowed themselves to feel for you, to love you ; They were spending more time by your side, they held you more often, at times you could swear you could see a spark of love and adoration in their eyes when they looked at you... And honestly? It's all you could've asked for. Everything else was a bonus.

Spending more time together undeniably meant you picked up on some quirks from each other's behavior. Even though you had a much more theatrical side to you (which seemed to be easier to indulge into, since you weren't so afraid anymore since your deal ; although you do know how to control it. People often perceive you as rather calm and composed, actually), you had caught yourself standing like them a few times. Once, you two had tilted your heads at the same time during a conversation, drawing a few laughs out of both of you. It seemed like Valdemar had picked up on some of your behaviors as well, which... You hadn't expected. You remember loosing your shit at one of the few jokes they cracked around you from time to time. Sure, they were still very much themselves, but you feel like their time with you warmed them up somewhat. A few days after you came back from your deal, they'd offered to wrap your horns in bandages, just like they did with their own, and you couldn't refuse (it was just so cute). Your horn shape was more vertical, with a slight angle to them, but in the end, you had matching bandaged horns, and it just made you giddy every time you thought about it. You would tease each other at times, even though when other people were around, the Quaestor was much more reserved, a bit contrary to you. But you caught a smile behind their mask once or twice.

And of course, all those soft moments were worth everything you'd given up. Your humanity, and your moral compass. Regarding science, anyway...

You hadn't told them anything. When those strange thoughts came to you, it made you curious. Not only because you'd never thought of this before, but also because it was... Interesting, actually. You knew you probably shouldn't indulge in them. After all, you weren't human anymore, your thoughts weren't the same... And yet, you gave in. You had noticed how when Valdemar was really invested in an experiment, it seemed you could go anywhere you wanted and they wouldn't notice... Or they perhaps didn't mind. Of course you loved watching them work, and they didn't seem to mind your presence... But seeing them so fascinated by the corpses they were fiddling with inevitably awakened those thoughts in you again. So you'd taken advantage of those moments to wander the streets of Vesuvia, looking for a perfect hideout. You had found what looked like an abandoned tavern at the end of a narrow, dark alleyway. It took you a while to manage to pick the lock of the thick wooden door, but once you did, you couldn't help a wicked grin from spreading onto your face. This. Was. Perfect.

You entered what looked like an old cave, finding stacks of dusty wine bottles, a table or two and cobwebs. You couldn't help your heart from picking up in pace as you mentally drew a picture of your soon-to-be laboratory. This was exciting. You dedicated the following weeks to cleaning up the place. You'd deconstructed the wine stacks, gotten rid of the bottles (which you were sure weren't good for consumption anyway, and the idea of risking Valerius' life to make sure of that simply hadn't come to you) and moved the wooden tables. If you wanted this place to be as spotless as you could make it to be, you'd have to do a deep clean... And that's what you did. Back when you were human, you could've never thought of doing that, ever. But now? The excitement at the prospect of upcoming experiments gave you the energy to basically do anything.

Eventually, after two week and a half of deep cleaning (mainly because you couldn't give it a 24/7 attention), the cave looked empty enough for you to start furnishing it. This only took you three days. You would sneak out the Palace at night into various physicians' offices and alchemist's shops to borrow equipment. Vials, petri dishes, syringes, candles, the strongest magnifying glasses you could find, more petri dishes, sample tubes, test tubes, goggles (though you doubted you would need them), gloves, tweezers, spatula, scoopula, glass bottles, erlenmeyer flasks, flasks, tongs, corks, beakers, pipets, petri dishes again YOU NAME IT- ahem.

This was thrilling. The more you brought equipment to your makeshift laboratory, the more excited you become. This would be fantastic. Phenomenal. Breakthrough after breakthrough, things scientists could only dream of achieving...

Then began your experiments. In the following months, your laboratory filled with them, test subjects and wet specimens, files thick as an encyclopedia as you wrote down report after report and protocol after protocol....

However, eventually, you knew you wouldn't be able to keep this to yourself. And you probably shouldn't. It didn't feel right to hide it all from your beloved... And so, after nearly ten months of your secret escapades to your lab, you decided to expose your discoveries and experiments to Valdemar. It was late, somewhere at the end of winter. As if time meant anything anyway. You found the surgeon in their dungeons, as usual. You stood afar for a moment, your heart thumping violently in your ribs out of both nervousness and excitement. You took a deep breath, and walked towards them, gently wrapping your arms around their waist from behind and resting your head on their shoulder. "Good evening" they said sweetly, briefly glancing at you. They could feel your tough heartbeat against their back, and wondered what could be the source of supposed distress. "Is something wrong?" they asked, their hands swiftly stitching up the corpse they had been working on. "...Can I show you something?" you inquired, though with a slight uncertainty. It seemed they sensed it. "Of course." Valdemar replied "I'm always happy to see what you've been up to." they said, putting their instruments aside and wiping their gloves hands on their apron. You couldn't help your grin and a spark of mischievous excitement from lighting up your eyes. The Quaestor knew that spark : they shared the same when they talked about their experiments. This only made them more intrigued. You took their hand and excitedly walked out of the dungeons into the streets of Vesuvia, guiding them to your hideout.

You found the key to the heavy wooden door and opened it, eagerly inviting them inside (even if you tried your best to keep your excitement level-headed). Their eyes widened as they slowly made their way inside : it really looked like a laboratory... only less professional. More made from scratch, though the equipment was there. Shelves lined the walls, on which laid all sorts of things : mainly jars, mostly wet rat and mice specimens, floating ominously in the liquid. but there were also tinier flasks, sealed shut, with a biohazard* symbol onto some. no, onto all of them. You didn't speak just yet, letting them take a look around while fidgeting with your hands. They approached one of the tables you worked on, seemingly analyzing the equipment. "So that's where all my petri dishes went" they teased, making you chuckle. Their gaze went back to the table "...Is this all your doing?" They asked, their eyes landing on the specimens again. You nodded, unable to stop a little proud and (morbidly) excited smile as you mentally prepared to ramble about your experiments. Valdemar's eyes scanned the equipment again, and finally asked "What did you do with all this?"

You grinned from ear to ear as you went to fetch the boxes where you kept all your reports, bringing them to the table while pushing aside some instruments (which thankfully you weren't currently using for an experiment - imagine the catastrophe if anything fell on the floor) "Alright, so-" you started, pulling out a file "I'll start with my simplest experiment : BH-012. It was my first successful one, actually uhm- are you familiar with pathology ?" your words seemed to tumble out of your mouth with uncontrollable enthusiasm, and Valdemar found themselves highly intrigued. "The science and study of diseases, yes, I've heard about it. Though as you know, it isn't my field of practice" you nodded frantically "Yes ! yes. Well... I got interested in that, suddenly, I don't exactly know why -maybe has to do with my deal- and well... I thought it would be a good idea to uhm... to try things out !" You had the Quaestor's absolute and undivided attention. Which was hard to do, let's be honest. You couldn't be more excited "I've played with dangerous things.." you admitted, flipping through the files. "So ! BH-012...."

And so your rambling started. You began with this first bacteria, which you had managed to successfully mutate, altering its initial effects. This is what you had done with all your experiments. You mutated and fiddled with everything : Bacteria. Viruses. Prions. Parasites... These held nearly no secrets to you anymore. You've nearly experimented on all. You had pushed the limits of the ethical and created biohazardous biological weapons, all contained in these tiny sealed-shut flasks and vials lined up on your shelves, which you had frozen* for safety. You explained to them in details some protocols of certain highly successful experiments, like the prion PA-003, or the virus VY-045... You explained how you studied how your diseases spread, contaminated, and destroyed their hosts on populations of rat and mice ; you showed them the second room, in which there was a tank similar to a terrarium full of plants, and another one full of fungi and mushrooms. You explained how you had managed to make a mutation of the BH-012 bacteria, BH-014, thanks to these fungi, allowing the bacteria to develop spores to spread, whereas before it was only transmitted by being consumed. You went on to explain how you used the tank of plants to develop cures for each of your diseases, making copies of the formula and protocols to follow in case one slippery little virus or fungi managed to make its way out of your laboratory.

The Quaestor was smitten. They loved your humanity, they always did (even if they'd denied it for a while), this part of you that had allowed them to be a little more themselves each day... And now this ? This was the cherry on top. This non-human side of you, devoted to science, willing to experiment, going beyond the biologically reasonable and push past what would be ethical until there were no cell to modify left in the world... And the last specimen you presented to them, with that wickedly excited grin and mad glint in your eyes just was the death of them. You proudly held up the wet specimen of an orange worm, with two long thin tendrils that spewed out of its mouth. "Just a lil' guy, huh? This is a type of brain tapeworm" you started "it's called a neuro-parasite. Some already exist in nature, but I've uhm... made it worse" you chuckled "It acts very progressively : they lodge themselves atop of the brain, slowly but surely planting their tendrils further and further until they reach the motor controls, basically... turning the host into a puppet. It's not actually hard to remove, a basic acidic solution does the job and dissolves it, but uhm... the delicate part is not damaging the brain while dissolving the worm." you were about to go on, but something suddenly popped in your mind, and you excitedly went back to your shelf. Valdemar's jaw hung slightly slack at everything. But they'd share their thoughts once you would be done. "Something funny happened to one of my worms, actually-" You retrieved another wet specimen of an orange worm, though this time, it had some sort of exoskeleton, and two little fangs "It mutated" you said, feeling all giddy. The Quaestor couldn't help but share your excitement, even if pathology wasn't their field of specialty "It mutated? This particular worm mutated, creating this unique structure and its small little fangs?" you nodded eagerly. You continued : "Not that it can resist the cure, no no- it's become practically cousins with a millipede. It still had the tendrils to lodge in the brain though. I have to admit, I ran out of inspiration and called it Fortis Vermis… but I secretly call it skitters" Valdemar chuckled "skitters?" you laughed as well and nodded. "yes, skitters... I like him a lot... It's my most beautiful specimen." You said, looking dreamily at your wet specimen before putting it back on the shelf with the others

After this very eventful night, you couldn't help but be a little apprehensive of Valdemar's reaction. What would they think...? They had not uttered a word since you both had left your makeshift laboratory. You suddenly felt very nervous. You looked at them and was about to say something, but you blinked in surprise. There was a new spark in their eyes : amazement and wonder... a certain lightness. You were... Confused. They seemed to notice your stare and looked at you, their red eyes meeting your golden own. They smiled. "Thank you for showing me all this" their tone was... surprisingly affectionate, and you couldn't help your cheeks from reddening slightly "ah- w-well... that's only natural, no?" you chuckled "You have no problem showing me your experiments, and it felt very... It just felt wrong not to show you." The smile didn't leave their face as they continued to walk with you. It seemed your earlier excitement had rubbed off on them, they looked to be in a particularly good mood. They looked ahead again and inhaled before speaking : "You and I will make a fine duo in scientific history" Your eyes widened slightly, your anxiousness suddenly evaporated. You felt warm. "really?" they nodded "absolutely. Say, do you want me to give you... Human specimens from time to time?" you gasped "you- you wouldn't !!" they chuckled at your excited reply "oh yes I would. I'd be delighted to see just what your diseases could do on a human corpse" You had to stifle a screech of excitement. It would help you make significant progress, even if you had one body every few months. You gripped their arm and brought them in an embrace, pampering their face with affectionate kisses. They chuckled and protested that it was nothing, but you thanked them nonetheless. That night, you spent your time discussing all sorts of experiments you could be conducting in the future...

*This may be inaccurate considering the time period The Arcana visual novel seems to take place in

Small Bonus !

It was two days later. You had just come back from dining with the countess and the other courtiers, closing the door of your quarters with a sigh, appreciating the calm. You spotted something on your bed, and raising an eyebrow, you went over it. It looked like a folded piece of clothing. You unwrapped it curiously, and your eyes widened as a lab-coat and apron unfolded before you. It was flawless, though you could tell it was sewn by hand. It matched your size perfectly. A note fluttered to the ground, which you picked up. It read :

"A mad scientist and an unhinged surgeon ; we're going to make quite the pair. I thought you might need this in the future - Val"

This time, you were unable to contain your screech of excitement.

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dustydaddyyy · 1 year

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i. start me up | joel miller x reader

a/n: pheeeeeeew, a little joel miller because the pedro pascal brain rot is realllll it's currently so bad. but yeah still toying with the idea of writing a second part to this. . .let me know what ya'll think!

flash point (series) masterlist

pairing: pre-TLOU! joel x fem!reader summary: on a particuarly wet night, you run across tess servopoulos and joel miller, and they help you out of a tight spot warnings: canon-typical violence and gore, swearing, lots of tense moments, mentions of stab wounds, blood loss and unconsciousness. oh and another cursed stitching-you-up-with-what-i-have scenario. you're very welcome. no use of y/n but a very subtle switch from third-person to 'you' at some point (the struggle of transitioning from joel's POV was real)

"if you start me up,

if you start me up, i'll never stop,"

GIF credit goes to: @/manny-jacinto

Joel Miller had never really minded rain. Sure, it rained a lot in Boston, and often that meant everything was cold and grey, but Joel felt it matched his mood of late. So, when he finds himself trudging through the rain on a Tuesday evening, the sky having darkened several hours ago, he finds he doesn't mind so much.

Tess, on the other hand, is muttering up ahead to herself about getting soaked to the bone, cursing under her breath as the rain comes down in a light but potent drizzle, and Joel bites back the beginnings of an amused smile.

"You alright?" he asks instead, drawing level with her, and she gives him an annoyed look.

"I'm fucking cold,"

"We'll be home soon," Joel says, keeping his tone neutral, and Tess shakes her head with a scoff as they power on.

"We should've left earlier," she says pointedly, and Joel chooses to ignore her as they round the corner of the street, taking a right into a dark alleyway. At first glance it looks like a dead end, but Joel knows there is a pile of sandbags in the corner that allows you a leg up over the wall at the end of the alleyway. It's a shortcut into the downtown area, or what used to be the downtown area, and Joel and Tess had been using it for years to cut their smuggling routes into half.

Just as they reach the end of the alleyway, Joel's ears perk at the sound of noise behind them, and almost on instinct, he pulls on Tess' sleeve and presses himself into the corner of the alleyway, where they remain shrouded in darkness.

"Where are you running off too?" comes a loud, jeering voice from the night, and after a few seconds Joel watches as a young woman turns the corner, "We just want to talk to you!"

She's walking fast, in a hurried step as she glances furtively over her shoulder. The sound definitely hadn't come from her, but Joel doesn't have to wonder for long as three men round the corner after her. They're an assortment of tall and short, small and large– it feels almost like a bad movie scene, but nevertheless Joel's eyes meet Tess' as a slight sigh of mourning for his peaceful evening leaves his lungs; it doesn't take a genius to know where this is going.

The evening had been going so well.

The sigh isn't necessarily one of mourning; while Joel was hoping to get home relatively peacefully this evening, he also knows there's no way either him or his partner, hardened as they are, are going to watch this happen in silence.

"Leave me alone," the girl stutters, and one of the men laughs.

"You are alone," he says, and his tone has a chill to it before he gives a creepy smile, "We ain't going to hurt you, honey,"

"I somehow doubt that," comes her voice, and if Joel hasn't been paying attention, he would've missed the quick wit in her tone before it returns to a meek pleading, "Please, just let me go home,"

There's more drunken laughter from the men, and Joel and Tess share a look as one of the men takes a step closer to the girl, who is backing down the alley. "Come here, girl,"

When she sidesteps him, – with surprising ease – Joel thinks to himself, his hand reaches out and his face morphs into a snarl.

"I ain't asking again, you little prude," he hisses, and the minute his fingers close over her forearm, Joel's shoulders tense as he prepares to move.

This had gone far enough.

Then, several things happen at once; Tess' hands extends to stop Joel as he moves to take a step, and he'd been so focused on how he was going to barge into this situation that he hasn't even noticed that the girl has moved swiftly, jerking her arm towards herself, which makes the guy hanging on to her stumble forwards. She takes advantage of his momentum and puts a hand on his shoulder, pulling him down towards her as her knee comes up with what Joel assumes in an inordinate amount of force for someone her size. It makes a sickening cruch as it comes into contact with the guy's face, his nose crunching, blood spattering up her jeans as he stumbles back, stunned into silence.

Joel doesn't know if it was enough to knock the fucker out, but she barely gives him a chance as she steps forward, foot coming up to give him an almighty kick of her boot to the middle of his sternum, sending him flying backwards, limp.

She turns around towards his two friends, who had been watching in shock, and when they move forward towards her, fists extended, Joel watches as this girl unleashes one of the single most beautiful displays of violence he thinks he's ever witnessed.

It's clean, controlled, nothing like the raw violence that overcomes Joel in situations like this; it's precise, aimed specifically at incapacitating the two men. The tall, skinny one barely stands a chance, and she sidesteps him as he swings forward, giving his back an almighty two-handed shove as he falls face-first into the floor. She turns swiftly on the ball of her foot, and Joel watches with a sort of fascination as her leg extends in a wide arc around her, landing a kick to the jaw of the second one, who buckles almost immediately.

She turns again, methodically almost, as the skinny one tries to scramble to his knees, and in two strides she's standing behind him, crouching for a second to wrap her forearm around his neck. The guys struggles, but she's holding fast, his kicking feet struggling as she tightens her grip with her other arm.

Then, Joel catches something; a reflection in the dim moonlight, the glint of a blade, and he seriously fights an urge to call out and warn her but it's too late. She lets out a pained grunt as the man's hand slashes wildly, the blade sinking into her upper arm. Another contained yell escapes her, and Joel watches as her face contorts in sudden pained anger and frustration. He knows it's coming, having recognized the expression on his own face more than once, and he's not surpised when she jerks the man suddenly in her grasp, his neck breaking under her grip, his body going limp. There's a resounding thump as she drops him, his form collapsing in a heap at her feet.

She lets out a breath, hands on her hips as she surveys the damage for a minute, before her head turns to her arm, the blade still sticking out of it.

"Motherfucker," she hisses to herself as she inspects the handle of the blade, letting out another pained breath, before sucking it right back between her teeth, "Fuck,"

She takes a deep breath, before crouching beside the bodies, two knocked out, one lifeless. It takes a second for Joel to realize she's going through their pockets, and he has to bite back a scoff.

Little thief.

After pulling what looks like a few ration cards and two watches off your would-be assailants (or were they your victims? Had this been planned out?), you get back to your feet with a groan, inspecting the knife still sticking out of your bicep. Your face contorts in pain as you suck some air in between your teeth sharply. Your hand moves towards the handle, as if you're contemplating taking it out. Joel thinks he probably would have if it had been him.

"I wouldn't do that," Tess speaks up, her voice echoing through the silent alley as she steps out of the shadow.

You're fast, wheeling around in the alleyway towards the sound of her voice. Your hand moves quickly as it reaches into a holster than had been hidden against your side, the sound of the gun safety clicking off following it soon after. This makes Joel kick into gear, his own gun coming from his holster as he points it at you, which catches your eye.

"Not another step," you threaten, your voice low as you point the barrel of a gun at Tess, but your eyes are boring into the darkness, almost as if you can see right through it, through Joel, standing half hidden against the wall, "I won't hesitate to shoot her, and trust me when I say I'll be taking her right down with me if you pull that trigger,"

It's a silent for a moment, before Joel moves, stepping into full view.

Your expression doesn't change, but Joel watches with some satisfaction as your eyes roll up to his face, taking in his height and his broad shoulders, and running down his built arms and towards the barrel of his gun.

You're wondering whether you could take him in a fight.

(Joel quietly believes you could, but he doesn't voice it)

"Easy with that,"

Joel's voice is deep and level as he doesn't waiver, gun still pointed at your face, which you find surprising considering the situation, but equally unnerving because he doesn't seem at all fazed at the gun you're pointing at his partner.

"Don't patronize me," you say, giving him an unimpressed look, eyebrows raising as you stare straight into Joel's eyes, moving the gun and pointing it at him, instead, "Now did you hear me stutter? Put that down,"

"Can't shoot us both,"

Joel knows he probably shouldn't be taunting you, but it feels like a force stronger than himself as he raises a singular eyebrow at you, almost in challenge.

"Fine," you say with a hint of a sarcastic smile, "I'll shoot you first, grandpa, and then her,"

Joel's eyes harden slightly at your threat and the name, and for a moment it's a standoff as your stare him down. He's impressed by how well you're standing your ground, considering your relatively smaller stature compared to him, but as his finger itches over the trigger, toying with the idea–

"Why don't you both put your toys away, hm?" Tess asks, and she sounds unimpressed, unbothered, almost, "Bad enough we have FEDRA on our asses, don't need to be killing each other, as well,"

Your eyes haven't budged from Joel's, hand tightening around your gun. "You first,"

Joel lets out a humourless scoff. "You think I'm that stupid, do you, sweetheart?"

The name rolls off his tongue with surprising ease, and Joel watches with great satisfaction as your face hardens, your hands gripping the gun with renewed strength, finger pushing against the trigger.

"Joel," Tess says, partly in surprise, considering she's never, ever heard him use that word, and partly in warning as she watches your shoulders square.

"Didn't I tell you not to fucking patronize me?" you say, your voice filled with barely restrained anger, eyes flashing with fury as you contemplate shooting him. He'd be an easy kill from here; he isn't old, but he's older enough to be slower than you, and there's no way he'd beat you to shooting him right in the chest.

Your thoughts are interrupted as a light sweeps across the main street, along with the faraway sound of radios and a FEDRA truck.

"Shit," Tess curses, before peering at the wall, looking back at Joel, "We have to go,"

Then she turns back to you. "Look, you can shoot each other, whatever, but the minute either of you pull that trigger, FEDRA is going to come charging around this corner and then we'll all be fucked,"

Her tone is almost chastising, as if she's mediating a conflict between children.

"Or, you can put that down and come with us over this wall, and live to tell another day,"

"She what?" Joel lets out incredulously, head finally moving as it snaps to stare at Tess in disbelief, but Tess isn't looking at him, instead exchanging a glance with you.

"Besides, you've lost like half a pint. . . someone has to take that unsanitary shiv out," Tess says finally, and you let out a small breath, clenching your jaw.

It's clear you're still in pain, and Tess had been right in observing your wound hadn't stopped bleeding, soaking through the several layers you're wearing, the rain doing nothing to wash it away.

After a short second filled only with the approaching sounds of the soldiers in the night, your eyes flashing with mild panic, flitting nervously between Tess, Joel and the street, you nod.

"Fine," you say, curtly, dropping your gun and tucking it in the waistband of your jeans, before you look up expectantly, "Lead the way,"

It's easy, maybe too easy, Joel thinks to himself, but after another withering look from Tess and the growing noise and approaching light, he relents with a sigh, turning on his heel and stepping back towards the darkened corner.

"Come on," Tess says, beckoning you, and you follow them, pressing up against the wall and watching as Joel gives Tess a leg up over the small wall, which she scales easily. Joel turns to you, raising a brow expectantly as he waits for you to move.

"You going to stand here all night waiting for the other shoe to drop, Cinderella?" Joel finds it in himself to be sarcastic, his tone harsh as he regards you, and you let out a breath.

"I can climb the wall without a boost," you rebuff him, before motioning your head, "Now get a fucking move on or we'll get caught,"

Joel isn't sure he appreciates your tone, but he doesn't have enough time to consider his reaction as voices sound directly from the other end of the alleyway. Joel doesn't think, he only reaches for the front of your jacket, pulling you towards him and under the cover of darkness as he flattens himself against the wall, pressing you against him.

"What the fuck–"

You're surprised, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, but Joel shushes you harshly, one of his hands coming up from the grip on your jacket to cover your mouth. You let out a surprised sound, which is muffled by his hand, and your arm moves past his head and against the wall, palm flat to steady yourself. You let out a small groan of pain, eyes closing tightly as the blade in your arm jerks, more blood pouring from the wound. You take a deep breath, eyes opening, before they narrow to slits as you glare at Joel, ripping his hand away from your mouth.

Before you can say anything, however, a bright search light sweeps over the street illuminating the three slumped bodies.

"Shit," you swear under your breath as you hear several alarmed shouts, and beneath you, Joel doesn't move, his hand still gripped into the front of your collar as his eyes follow the commotion in the alley. He watches as the FEDRA agents jump from their truck and go to inspect the carnage in the alleyway. There's three of them, large guns strapped over their shoulders, and you feel Joel's grip on your jacket get tighter as you desperately press yourself further towards him in an attempt to remain unseen. He doesn't rebuff you, probably because he realizes that if they see you, then they'll see him, too.

"This one's dead," says one soldier, nudging the tall one as he shines his flashlight down, "Neck looks broken,"

"Pockets empty," the other one concludes after he takes a look at the other guy, "But just knocked out, it seems,"

"That's the second time this month," the third one says, walking around the truck, "Looks like we got a thief with anger issues,"

"It's sloppy," says the one crouching, before getting to his feet, "He's going to get caught one way or another,"

You have to bite back a smug look at the use of the pronoun. They didn't even think it could be a woman.

"Load them in the back of the truck, they're still out past curfew," says the one nearest to the car, before turning and calling over his shoulder, "And make sure to check the alley. . . they could still be hanging around,"

Your eyes go wide as you hear one of the soldiers oblige, and they meet Joel's. It's unspoken, but Joel sinks slightly through his knee, cupping his hands for you to step in. You don't protest, and he boosts you over the edge as the light approaches the corner. You don't jump down to the other side, though, and for a terrifying moment you're almost completely exposed in the light of the moon as you thrust your hand down to Joel. Part of your leg dangles down over the other end as you straddle the wall, lowering yourself as Joel gives you a glare at the risk, but takes it nonetheless. You strain as you pull him up, and can feel another set of hands holding firmly onto your calf, steadying you as you pull Joel over the top. You're the last to jump off, and at that moment, your hands poised on the top of the concrete, ready to push off, the beam of light from the flashlight shines straight into your back.

"Should've known I'd find you lurking out here," comes the voice of the first soldier, but it isn’t loud; he isn't shouting or pointing his gun at you.

On the ground on the other side, Joel scrambles to his feet and looks up, eyes wide as he watches your face change. You motion with your hand for them to be quiet, before turning to look over your shoulder, facing the guy.

"Good evening, Samuel," you say, your voice full of a tone that was very different than the one you'd used with Joel. He hears the confidence, the sureness; you don't even sound remotely worried about getting caught.

"You seen any of this?" he asks, gesturing behind him, and you shrug nonchalantly.

"Sorry, I was just passing through, I didn't see shit," you lie, and Joel hears the soldier scoff.

"Now why don't I believe you, hm?"

Again, his tone doesn't sound angry or aggravated, but familiar, and Joel realizes with a start that you two know each other, and by the tone of your voice, rather well.

"Come on, you going to bust me, Sam?" you let out in a scoff, tone almost playful, but still quiet enough not to attract too much attention, "What on earth would you do if they hung me, hm?"

"Get out of here," comes the guy's voice, and he sounds like he's fighting a smile, "Don't let me catch you out here again, you understand?"

"I'll see you around," you say, and the guy actually manages a chuckle.

"Without a doubt,"

With that, you jump down, landing on the ground next to Joel, groaning slightly as you land. On the other side of the wall, the footsteps recede, his shouts mixing in with his fellow soldiers'.

Joel moves incredibly fast for his age, and in no time he's crowded you, pushing you up against the wall with a forearm against your neck.

"We don't work with rats," he warns, low, under his breath, but as he goes to press his arm down for maximum effect, he feels something poke him in the abdomen, right in the fleshy part of his stomach. It's sharp, not quite piercing his shirt, but enough to serve as a very real warning.

"Joel," Tess's voice comes in alarm as she undoubtedly spots the blade pressed against his abdomen.

"That's right," you say under your breath, and the look you give Joel is one of pure challenge, corner of your mouth pulled into an almost-smirk, "You move one more inch and this rat will gut you like a fish, old man,"

"Cut that out," Tess hisses, putting a hand on Joel's arm, "We barely got out of that. . . if you two fucking kill each other in the street we're going to have more problems,"

All of a sudden, you blink your eyes several times as you feel your head begin to spin, stumbling slightly to the side, taking a sharp breath in. Joel's arm pulls back slightly as his other hand comes up to rest flat again your waist, keeping you steady. It's almost a reflex, and he doesn't know why he does it, but something about the way the blood drained from your face just now isn't right.

"Woah, hey," he lets out in surprise, and he feels the sharp object's poke in his stomach lessen as your shoulders go slack against him, "Tess, she's passing out,"

"Jesus," Tess curses as Joel completely withdraws his arm from your neck, and she steps around to your other side, slinging your arm over her shoulder, "Hey, you can't fucking bleed out on us out here, you hear me? Come on, help me with her,"

"And do what? Where are we going to take her?" Joel asks, frowning because he has a nasty feeling he's not going to like the answer to his question, and Tess glares at him.

"In case you hadn't noticed, she just risked her neck for you to pull you up this wall and get that soldier off our back. . . if it had been you he'd found, something tells me he wouldn't have been so lenient," Tess reprimands him, and Joel is taken aback by how quickly she's coming to the defence of a strange girl they'd met barely 20 minutes ago.

Joel grits his teeth as he realizes Tess has a point, and after a second, he crouches slightly and slings your other arm over his shoulder. You're still conscious enough to make small steps, but your breaths are shallow as the two smugglers hurry through the darkened streets, taking you with them. They manage to get you to a building with relatively no hiccups along the way, but by the time they're pulling you over the doorstep of an apartment, your entire shirt is thoroughly soaked in blood. It's everywhere, hot and sticky, and your eyes barely stay open as they drop you in what feels like a dining chair.

"You have to pull it out," you hear Joel order as he rummage through a cupboard, and you don't even protest as you feel Tess' fingers close over the handle of the blade sticking out of your bicep.

"Wait," you mutter, eyes opening as your head straightens, "You c-can't just pull it out if you aren't going to stitch me up. . . I'll b-bleed to death,"

"Good thing I was planning on stitching you up, then," comes his deep voice, and you barely manage to focus your gaze on him as he crouches in front of you, eyes inspecting your face as you barely stay with it, "Tess, pull it out,"

"Alright, alright," she says, and you brace yourself as she grabs the handle and yanks.

Your scream is somewhat strangled, staying stuck in your throat as your eyes fly open in shock and pain, fingers gripping the side of the chair with white knuckles, a sharp gasp coming in through your lips. Then, your eyes roll into the back of your head and you lose consciousness, head lolling against your chest.

"Jesus, fuck," Tess curses, using one of her hands to support your neck.

"Help me get her shirt," Joel orders, and together they manage to pull your top over your head, exposing your arm to Joel. The wound is bleeding profusely, and he uses a spare strip of fabric to tie the top of your arm, in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding so he can clean and stitch you up. He's quick with it, having been almost entirely desensitised to this kind of gore in the years they'd spent travelling, with Tommy, and the stitches aren't even half bad, either. You're still covered in blood, so Tess tries her best to clean it up with a towel, before she disappears for a second to fetch a spare shirt. When they've finally managed to move you to the bed, Joel thinking to himself that he'll take the couch, you're passed out cold, a frown etched into your asleep face.

Ten minutes later, him and Tess are standing in the kitchen, and he peers from there into the darkened area of the room that serves as the bedroom.

"What the fuck are we doing here, Tess?" Joel asks her, gaze coming back to meet hers in a harsh, questioning gaze, and she lets out a sigh as she takes a drink from the alcohol in her glass.

"I don't have a clue, okay?" she admits angrily after swallowing it down, "We couldn't just leave her behind, Joel,"

"Why the hell not?" he hisses, putting down his glass with a harsh sound, "We have no idea who this girl is. . .who her enemies or allies are,"

"You're being so fucking dramatic," Tess says with an almost dismissive snort, shaking her head, "We saved her life, she won't rat us out to FEDRA,"

"You don't know that," Joel says pointedly, putting his hands on his hips and regarding her.

"So what, you want to smother her in her sleep?" Tess suggests sarcastically, "I thought we weren't doing that anymore, Joel,"

His silence is angry as he regards her, jaw clenching before a frustrated breath leaves him, his fingers grasping for his glass.

"I'm going," Tess declares, putting down her glass, "I have a place to crash not far from here,"

"What?" Joel chokes out, "You want me to babysit?"

"Not babysit," Tess lets out in an irritated tone, before grabbing her coat from the back of the chair, "If we're lucky, she'll wake up tomorrow and be out of your hair by the morning,"

"If we're lucky," Joel mutters, "If we're unlucky, she'll either die of infection, or smother me in my sleep and steal all our shit,"

"I'm sure you'll manage," Tess says, her tone almost final, and Joel feels the irritation boil deep inside him as she pulls her coat on. "I'll see you in the morning. . . and she better still be alive when I get here, Joel,"

The last thing Joel hears is the soft slam of the door as Tess leaves, and when she's gone, he down his drink, head turning to look once more into the bedroom. If Joel strains his ears, he can hear you snoring softly, the light from the kitchen providing enough visibility for Joel to watch the consistent rise and fall of your chest under Tess' shirt.

At least you weren't dying. . . yet.

Joel eventually goes to bed, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible on the couch. It isn't a bad couch, per se, but Joel's back does not agree with using it as a bed. It takes another hour for him to fully drift off to sleep, the consistent sound of your deep, raspy breaths eventually drawing him into the darkness.

When Joel next opens his eyes, it's barely light outside, and you're gone.

The beginning sounds of a waking QZ filter through the poorly insulated windows as he steps into the kitchen, eyes falling on the pockets of his coat hanging off the chair, which have been completely turned out of his ration cards.

"Little fucking thief," he curses, but when he goes to grab the coat, his eyes fall on his wrist, his mind only just realizing the absence of a familiar weight as he finds his watch is missing, too.

On the table, you've left a hurriedly scribbled few words on the back of the open map, having folded the corner up so that it was visible.

I owe you. Sorry about stealing your shit.

"I've been running hot, you got me ticking now don't blow my top"

#finally able to post this #pls don't let this completely suck omfg #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #the last of us #tess servopoulos #joel miller hbo #tlou hbo

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