#breath-holding spells treatment

[anantaru]

DAY 24 — BRAT TAMING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — kazuha, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, brat taming, they're mean lmao, petnames used: love, smart girl, oral (male! receiving), cockwarming

𖧡 — KAZUHA

coruscating with a hot prickle underneath your cheeks and your arousal oozing out of you, kazuha wastes no time before he pulls your mouth back into his lower area with your lips open wide to receive his pulsating cock again— more so feel it stick and melt to your tongue so sinfully as you drag the roughness of your wet muscle against the underside of his dick, tickling the buzzing veins.

"i— ah, hardly notice anything," kazuha admits bluntly and chuckles as his fingers comp over the back of your head, "you need to try harder, i fear," what a distinguished way your boyfriend had with words, which, in any other case he does but not now, not when he was attempting to teach you a lesson.

and you reach in between his thighs at his blatant sentence, to properly take his balls in your warm palm— giving him two good squeezes as he instantly swallows back a groan at the harsh treatment you added onto him, being aware that he was exceptionally sensitive right there.

well, granted, this entire ordeal was placed on you for a reason— because sometimes you just cannot help yourself but be a little, mean brat to your handsome boyfriend, until his habitual and subdued personality gets spiked up with a dangerous notion affiliated with lust, desire, and the clear thought of putting you in your place.

"maybe if you, fuck— wouldn't have been so mean, my love," kazuha pauses, roughly curving his palms against your cheeks so he could softly brush his thumbs over the skin, breathing out a whispery moan when he could feel himself shallowly slip in and out of your hot mouth, "i wouldn't have to use such words on you."

you whine in attempt to spell out a witty comeback but are only being crowded with his fat tip grazing over the back of your throat— you hiccup and babble, perceiving him entirely, his slightly bitter taste penetrating your nostrils as your body grew to smell like his luscious fragrance.

kazuha shifts in his seat a little before pushing his hips up your flexed throat to catch you off guard— yet, little does he realize at last, when he fucks your throat and uses your mouth as he pleases, with your saliva and his pre dribbling all over your chin and his boxers, that in reality, you will never stop engaging in this sort of play and be all about the drama, so perfect when you act like a little brat, so kazuha could use your mouth again, no need to urge you on for anything when you're practically salivating at the taste of his salty cum on your tongue.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

"don't flatter yourself too much, i'm not even fully hard yet,"

whenever you were acting out— attempting to push and pull against alhaitham's usual stoic and unbothered demeanor, you are most likely defeated right away, yet do not be mistaken because, the moment you do achieve to, quote on quote, step onto the wrong tile, he almost needs to profess the power he held over you.

you take a sharp intake of air before exhaling it out with a tremble the moment he first sinks into you— although much to your surprise, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't even kiss you, only focusing on your sizzling hole swallowing him in like a wet suction pulling on his shaft.

"hey!" you whine, before slipping your hands around his neck so you could kiss him yourself, only to be met with alhaitham quickly turning his head so you'd clumsily hit his ear instead, "w-what's up with you?"

it's in a juncture like this where everything suddenly comes crashing down on your complete frame and holds you hostage against your will, the split second you can remember it in a spur of a moment, vividly, when you were oh so graciously disturbing his peace earlier, just because you felt like it.

"i'm not moving tonight," he proclaims, a little aloof and standoffish but holding your gaze with unapproachable eyes before he repeatedly slaps the plush flesh of your ass, making you squeak out.

"you do it yourself," alhaitham wasn't really interested in a heart-wrecking apology from you, truthfully, he had already planned out and structured how this night would end, obviously in his favor because you cannot beat him— he stops when you're begging him, full of brimming tears, to make you please please cum because you just cannot hold it in anymore!

"i can't," you attempt to move your hips but are being met with one large hand pinning you back down the mattress.

alhaitham was torturing you, that's what it was, at least in your eyes, and you dig into his scalp and ruffle his hair, aiming to make him kiss you again (and failing) before scraping your nails around his ears, where he was a little sensitive, yet not even that worked out so you ultimately go down to his neck— your lips curved up into a sweet and apologetic pout, hoping he'd show mercy tonight.

"okay, i'm sorry, i went to far, i'm sorry sorry sorry.." you mewl out in a frantic exhale, the heaviness of his throbbing erection melting within your walls was maddening, and it hurt, a mild pain battering your pulsing cunt as your pussy flutters greedily around his girth, wishing to chance his mind.

alhaitham noticed how you were glistening all over his dick, he feels how your cunt squeezes him experimentally too, but it's more than just wanting you to please him tonight and make it about him, which in actuality, the scribe didn't give a single damn about his pleasure— but it's about obedience, just how it's found in dogs following their owner, and instead of using words, he uses his thick cock stretching you out until you're whining and loosing all of your witty responses, both of you fusing and becoming one.

but that agonizingly sizzling tension in between your squished bodies, ugh, it was surrounding you, your soul and mind, it was beginning to simply steal your breath away.

"but you're such a smart girl, right? always having a comeback to everything, so try harder."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #kinktober #alhaitham x you #heizou x you

[rileysluvr]

super short price nsfw because i am his girlie til the day i die. he’s a bit of a meanie in this one tho so read with caution!!

“Again,” he orders.

You take a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to somewhat ground yourself, but it’s a difficult feat when you're being held down on your surperior’s hard lap by his big arm splayed over your hips. A thick, dusty book on the desk in front of you, flipped to the page that entirely covers the military-workplace regulations he was scolding you for until tears began to bead at your waterline. You don’t think you’ve ever been this humiliated.

Your vision is blurry, and it’s at that point where your memory serves you better than what you’ve been ordered to do, which is to read until you can’t. He’s broken you down to a writhing mess atop his thigh as both of yours can only drape over one of his huge ones. Back flush against his chest with his palm rubbing your pussy in all the right ways; you swallow thickly, wondering if you can even go on any longer in this state.

“Fifty-nine, oh-one: ‘Service personnel are to wear-” you pause to breathe, fighting back a stutter, “…appropriate regulation uniform on duty—”

A bashful whimper cuts you off mid-recitement as he somehow manages to shove his two fingers even deeper into your cunt, nudging against your nerves rather harshly. Your legs squeeze around his thigh and your hands twitch in their place wrapped around to your sides. All the willpower in your body being used to keep yourself from bucking your hips forward and earning another half-hour of degrading names and treatment.

“Did you hear me tellin’ you to stop?” he barks, but it’s in that calmer manner that spins your mind around until you can’t decipher the difference between anger and sympathy. You shake your head, and you don’t need to have a visual on his face to feel the disapproval teetering off his bitten tongue and firm expression. “Then why don’t I hear you reading, eh?”

Your voice trembles, almost enough for him to take pity on you; “Sir, please- I’m trying.”

You weren’t even on duty today, for fuck’s sake. You had stopped by to pick up a personal belonging, only to be reminded how your captain views you as his own the second you step foot through the base’s front gate. And you were never good at avoiding his stalking gaze, especially when he’s got access to eyes stationed at every nook and corner.

“Christ, y’need me to spell it out for you? Is that it?” he scoffs. “How many times’ve we been over this?”

The way he berates and babies you has your cheeks stained and glistening with tears, and your mind all jumbled considering how easily he switches back and forth from mean to soft. Soft like how his fingers pull out and away from your cunt and hold themselves just far enough to make you shift your hips forward in search of them, only to be held back by his arm’s weight. Mean like his spat words and the grip with which he grabs your jaw, squeezing tight and puffing your cheeks out a bit in an attempt to get you to focus; to knock some sense into that strained, precious little brain of yours.

“Pretty fuckin’ simple task for a soldier, if y’ask me.”

Because deep down, he truly cares about your well-being. He only wants the best for his girl, and the dynamic between you.

And you wouldn’t want to disappoint your superior even more than you already have, now, would you?

He lets go of your face to allow you to finish, a nervous and newfound quietness croaking in your throat in addition to your already shy voice after his display of aggression; “—except when otherwise ordered by a Commanding Officer…’”

“Good girl,” he drags upon your completion, along with his hand that sneaks back into your panties. You jump from the coldness of his skin but he barely pays any mind to it. “Keep going for me, now, pretty. Go ‘head and skip some.”

It’s a repeated process; you recite what you know, mess up due to his cruel ways of sadistic teasing, and watch on from the outside as your self-respect crumbles so easily. You acknowledge it, you feel it, and you willingly ignore it because you know that whatever he plans on giving you afterwards will far surpass any other means to pleasure.

His time, his teachings and guidance, his own pleasure. They’re better than gifts, really.

“‘No item of uniform which has not been authorized is to be worn.’” You mumble for the entirety of the final sentence, now expecting him to get on you for not speaking clearly enough.

Instead, his middle finger delves between your folds and dips into your cunt at last, ripping a hiss and another whine from high in your throat from his rough treatment.

“And who authorizes your uniform?” he finally asks.

He adds his ring finger and the fullness in your cunt would be uncomfortable if the heel of his palm wasn’t digging into your clit at the particular angle. It numbs the stretch and your worries, so much so you nearly forget what he had asked you.

You gasp, eyes shooting open to meet cold, empty office in stark contrast to the warm, staggering frame pressed up against your back. Every muscle and every flex beneath the cotton material of his shirt being embedded into your mind.

“You do, Sir—mph!—it’s only you.”

An approving rumble from his chest vibrates against your back, and you lean into him with a soft moan when he curls his fingers upward in that way he knows you respond to the best. Head leant back on his shoulder, you hold onto his arm to stabilize your spinning mind once he begins slipping his rough fingers in and out of your sensitive pussy more firmly.

“So you show up to base in this pretty, little dress on your off-day, and expect to leave here without any punishment?”

His words exceed intimidating to a great extent, but the way he coos them so gently right by your ear leads directly to you scrambling them into nothing more than sweet blurbs and mumbles. He continues his short scolding as if he doesn’t know how dumb he’s got you already, ready to make you bite the consequences for your inability to respond to him later.

“Distractin’ me ‘nd all the other men here while we work, like you don’t know what your body does to them. What you’re worth around here, to the lot of bastards falling asleep with their dicks in their hands to the pretty image of you dressed like this,” he emphasizes with the tug of your dress’s ending hem.

“Sir,” you whine, not paying a single nod to his language because your numbed mind can simply no longer compute it. Muffled and unclear, though the mean and deep drawl that bleeds through pushes you all the much closer to bliss.

“Feels good, I—please… ’m so, so close, Sir—!”

You whine and clasp your hand down on his arm for some sort of spiritual stabilization, and he only picks up the pace. He works you up so quickly after edging you for what felt like hours, as this time he gives absolutely no notion to relenting.

“That right?” Of course, you can’t respond with much more than a whimper as you rock your hips back and forth on his hard thigh, his skilled fingers working you up to ecstasy.

“Yes, yes ‘m gonna—it’s too much, Sir, ‘m gonna come—!”

He chuckles, his arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer into him. You convulse around his fingers and moan through your high as he militantly, yet somehow so expertly, turns your vision to stars and your limbs into a limp mess atop him. It’s like he knows your body better than you do yourself, making you come harder with his fingers alone than anyone has ever. You thank him profusely, soft words of mantra like music to his ears as he decides what to do with you next.

He gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping both his hefty arms around you and hauling you up in front of him, big palm instantly meeting with your shoulder blade to shove you down on the wooden desk and ripping a gasp from high in your lungs. He leans over you, caging you in as he soothes his hand across your forehead; his version of intimacy, and whatnot.

You’re panting, utterly exasperated, but simply can’t help the way you wiggle your hips back against his to chase that good friction. He laughs at your display of neediness for his cock, knowing it’ll be a much longer while before he’ll let you have it.

“My stupid fuckin’ toy,” he mutters softly against your skin, and it sounds just as good as any flattering compliment would.

He takes the hem of your dress and hikes it up to reveal your ass, humming at the sight before leaning back in to kiss your temple. Facial hair tickling and invading your senses, nearly feeling like a sweet treat to shush the way you whine out with his hard bulge pressed up against where you’re most sensitive.

Thoughts of what he could do to you right now running rampant through both of your minds, none differing from each other nor unwanted from either party.

“You’re gonna let me use this body however I like, until you learn to behave yourself ‘round your coworkers. Till you learn a fuckin’ lesson for once. Sound quite alright, sweetheart?”

#cod mw2 #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price smut

[abbyromanoff]

can i request little reader and mommy wanda, and they go to a park and little misbehaves and acts like a brat and gets a punishment for being a brat (this is the longest red light ever)

…HATE ME?

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1065

WARNINGS: angst, little reader, mommy!Wanda, silent treatments, Wanda feels down because of R, R also feels down bc of Wanda, not spell checked tbh, think that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your lip jittered as you whimpered, your pleads going silenced to the older woman. She sat on the couch with a book in her hands, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she flipped each page without digesting it entirely, but you didn’t need to know that.

“Mommy, ‘m sorry!” You felt tears pooling at your eyes and huddled your stuffie closer to your chest before rushing upstairs to your room. You closed the door behind you and removed every blanket and pillow from her side of the bed before placing your stuffed animals in the now unoccupied area. It was a rule of hers to not have toys on the bed, and if you did, it was only one or two that you slept with alongside her. Other than that, they were saved for play time only.

You huffed angrily and closed your eyes, intending on falling asleep until that came to a short fail. You couldn’t stop recalling the previous activities that led to this moment that had guilt gnawing at your heart.

“Baby, not today, okay? It’s too chilly for ice cream right now, and you’re already freezing!” She exclaimed her words with a rub to your arms that filled with goosebumps from the chilled wind. You glared at her after your pleading eyes did not work the way you wished, and she exaggerated a pout in return.

“That’s not fair! I wan’ ice cream!” Your hands balled into fists and your nostrils flared, your angered expression making Wanda audibly aww.

“My little cutie! Why don’t we just head home, lay down, watch a movie.” She dragged out, hoping it would bring back your excitement and tempt you into giving up.

“No, I don’ wanna go home until I have ice cream!” She sighed, annoyed that her suggestion did not work and you were still upset.

“Look, I said no ice cream, alright? Just be a good girl and listen to mommy, yeah?” She knew you always fell for the title, but there was something so strong about this truck that was now leaving that had it blanking your mind.

“No fair! I hate you, mommy!” You saw her facial expressions shift as her eyes widened with slight red behind them. You felt the hand that had been holding your wrist tighten, and her head titled to the side menacingly.

“You want to repeat that word for me?” You had come to realize your mistake and cowered down, gulping as you struggled to form a coherent sentence or thought.

“I…I didn’ mean it-“

“You didn’t mean it? So you didn’t mean to say you oh so proudly just how much you hate me? You said it, didn’t you? Fucking shit,” She mumbled the curses under her breath. “And here I thought I had trained my little girl well.”

“No, you did, mommy! I swear, you did! I didn’t mean to say it, I really, really didn’t.” She shook her head disapprovingly, guiding you to the car quickly as you struggled to follow behind her.

“Hurts, mommy.” You mumbled in hopes she’d listen, but that came to a quick end when you were pushed into the backseat.

“I’m sorry, mommy, I really didn’t mean it.” She ignored you the rest of the ride, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel and slightly filling the tense silence. You knew you were done for when you got home.

You heard the door close behind the woman as you refused to turn and look at her, knowing deep down it was all you wished for. You squeezed your eyes even tighter and pretended to be asleep, although Wanda knew you weren’t. She walked to the closet and sorted through a selection of clothes aimlessly.

“Mommy?” You eventually gave in, and Wanda did not turn to look in your direction.

“Please stop ignoring me! It’s hurtin’ my feelings,” You chewed your lip and rubbed your legs together for the warmth she did not supply.

“Oh, it hurts your feelings?” She asked, and that was the first time she had spoken in what felt like years. You sat up now, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

“Mhm.”

“Because it really hurt mommy’s feelings when you said you hated her, but that doesn’t matter?” You looked down in shame and she hummed, now stepping out of the small room and walking closer to your proximity.

“Now, I know you were upset that you weren’t getting what you wanted, but that gives you absolutely no right to be mean and say such horrible things to mommy.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You spoke lowly, your voice full of shame. She crossed her arms over her chest and placed a knee on the bed that was filled with your toys, but she didn’t seem to notice or care at the moment.

“I know you are, but that doesn’t change what you did.” You shook your head in agreement with her words.

“I- I was upset and I really wanted ice cream but I was really, really mean to mommy and I didn’t mean to, and ‘m really, really, really sorry.” She didn’t respond and you worried she didn’t forgive you. You were about to plead her once more before she stood and began walking to your side of the bed where you sat so anguished. She then placed herself in front of you and put her hands on your knees before leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I know you are, baby.”

“You forgive me?”

“Not exactly, but I’m not mad at you anymore.” A smile began to grow on your face and she pinched your cheeks at the sight.

“Does that mean you won’ ignore me now?”

“I won’t ignore you anymore, my love.”

“And does that mean we can have ice crea-“

“Woah, woah, woah, I think we’re getting a bit too far now.” You giggled and she followed before scooting your stuffies to the side and making space for her own body to fit. She pulled you in closer and placed a kiss on your lips this time, sighing into it as she wrapped her arm around your body. She knew you could never hate her, and she knew she could never hate moments like this even if it meant she had to live out what led to it.

#wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #scarlet witch angst #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch

[aphrogeneias]

Having sex with Eddie for the first time after the dreaded “I love yous”

You’d fucked before, and it had been wild and rough, or soft and slow, but never so emotionally intimate as this.

I imagine you’d gotten into a bit of a heated squabble, both of you getting on the others nerves but simply to mask the underlying tension of what you both desperately wanted to admit. That you were hopelessly in love. When he finally says it, the sentence starts out in anger, but ends with the sweetest, broken lilt you’ve ever heard. You say it back and he kisses the breath from your lungs, and later on makes love to you with stuttering hips and honeyed words whispered into your ear, his fingers laced in yours and holding your hands above your head. (He also finishes super quick because of a very while timed thrust coupled with you saying “I love you” again and he’s fucking gone)

giving your — friend? friend with benefits? boyfriend? no. you wouldn't call him the b word. at least not yet, not until one of you finally breaks and admits that there are bigger feelings involved. until then, he's your friend. giving your, very obviously scarred by a lifetime of abandonment, friend the silent treatment was not the best idea.

in hindsight, you shouldn't have. you shouldn't have turned away when he lashed out at you, but there you were, sitting on his trailer's couch with your arms crossed, like a petulant child, while he tried to talk some sense into you. he whines and huffs, calling your name, asking you to look at him.

you do.

"don't do this to me. please?" his voice is harsh, but his lips tremble. "i love you."

the words work like a spell, washing over you in a haze. eddie meets you halfway as you stand, catching you as you launch yourself into him. you kiss and the haze spreads through the room, two spellbound lovers caught in a trance — the words had meaning, the words had power. they washed over you.

you and eddie made quick work of your clothes, and he lowered you both to the floor, where he settles himself on top of you, kissing everywhere he can reach. you're both desperate, clinging to each other, hands and mouth and everything in between. like it's the first time all over again, but better, because this time, it feels more real.

his bends and breaks and mends your body to his will, legs held by his strong hands, almost up to your shoulders. he's relentless, hips flush with yours as if he doesn't want to be an inch apart from you, grinding his cock inside you with precise thrusts, the hair on the base of it creating a delicious friction on your clit. you moan and mewl under him, dragging your nails down his back.

eddie is moaning on your skin, head buried in your neck. telling you how perfect you are, how sorry he is, how lucky he is to have you like this. you don't say anything for a long time, but when you do, you finally reciprocate. "i love you." you whisper, right next to his ear.

his hips stutters as he comes, and you clench hard around him as he takes you down with him.

you remain like this for a long time afterward. no other words need to be said.

#:))))) #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut

[vxntagedior]

could you do a ajax x fem reader (they are already together) where they had a fight and reader is giving him the silent treatment

silence

summary | ajax has stoned himself more times than he count but during his most important day, he stoned himself leaving you high and dry

pairing | ajax petropolus x fem!reader

warning | angst, fluff ending, ajax being a hot mess

word count | 2.1k

It was a dumb fight, you knew it while sitting on your bed instead of going to the Rave’N. Ajax was the one to propose a date the weekend before, hoping he could ask you to the Rave’N even though the two of you were together, he wants to make it feel special for you. 

Ajax had already mastered showering with his snakes since he was a kid. Back home, there weren't even mirrors in the bathroom but now at Nevermore, he just used a towel to cover the mirror while he showered so he wouldn’t stone himself, which happened more than he would like to admit.

“No!” He pulled his hand forward, just mere seconds later, completely stoned. Though he was stoned, it was temporary, returning back to normal 3 hours later, but leaving you alone. 

All Ajax could do while under his spell, he could just see your sullen face when you finally realized that he wouldn’t make it. 

Meeting him in your usual meeting spot, you were already early, just sitting on the bench. Eventually, you looked down at your phone seeing that Ajax was 10 minutes late, you put no mind to it, knowing you’ve been late a few times but as the clock kept going, 10 minutes to 30, 30 to an hour, you gave up on the date. 

Making your way to his door, you knocked loudly, knowing he didn’t have a roommate. “Ajax!”

Hearing silence, you knocked on the door again. Accepting that he wasn’t going to answer or he wasn’t in the room, you sighed, holding back your tears before going back towards your bedroom. 

Feeling his senses came back, Ajax shut his eyes, grabbing the towel before coming out of the bathroom, looking over at the time, it was well past midnight, knowing he missed the date. Dressing himself as quickly as he could, Ajax was able to pass the housemaster and made his way towards your dorm. 

Coming up to your dorm, he knocked softly, remembering how you told him that your roommate went home for the weekend. “Y/n, please.”

You stood on the other side of the door, your hand hovering over the handle, deciding if you should open it or not.

Ajax was happy that you opened the door, but frowned seeing your tear stained cheeks and red eyes. 

“Oh, now you're ready.” You said sarcastically. “Should have told me we were going for a midnight rendezvous, where were you Ajax?”

Conflicted, Ajax couldn’t tell you about what really happened, being embarrassed at himself, trying to think of the quickest lie that could slip through his tongue. 

“I was with Enid.” He blurted out, wincing slightly. God, why did he say that, seeing your face drop was worse than telling you what really happened.

You just closed your eyes, taking a deep breath because you truly don’t want to be angry or yell at him. “And what were you doing with Enid?”

Your eyes were still closed as you answered, and what Ajax said hurt you, deeply, “I asked her to the Rave’N.”

Opening your eyes, you saw that Ajax eye’s were now closed. Hearing you sniffle, Ajax looked at you, seeing the tears freely falling down your cheeks. 

“I can’t talk to you tonight,” Your voice wavering, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You slammed the door in your face. Ajax just stood numbly at your door, hearing you let out a loud sob. He should have told you the truth, saying how it was a mistake and you’d forgive him in a heartbeat, now he’s leaving you heartbroken, probably questioning if the two of you should even be together anymore. 

The following morning, you woke up with swollen eyes and cheeks. You went about your morning as normal which meant meeting with Ajax to walk to class. Keeping with your routine, you walked out of your dorm to see him leaning against one of the statues. Making your way towards him, silently grabbing his hand, lacing his fingers with yours, you walked to class. 

“Are you ready to talk?” He noticed how you made a detour in your path, turning back towards the inside of the school instead of going out to the quad for breakfast. Standing in front of the familiar Poe Statue, the two of you made way in the Nightshade library. 

“I think we should take a break.” You knew this conversation was bound to happen, you kept overplaying the events in your head, and couldn’t bear to hear him want to break up with you, so keeping your space would be the best.

“What?” He faltered. 

“Please Ajax,” Strike one, you barely called him his full name since being together, always Jax, or whatever nickname you desired that day. “I’m your girlfriend and you asked another girl to the Rave’N!”

Your voice started to get louder, your tone turning more angry. “At least you were nice enough to tell me instead of letting me be embarrassed.”

“No, no that’s not true.” He shook his head rapidly, trying to grab your hand, watching as you pulled it away from him. 

“Do not touch me!” You were almost screaming at his point, all your sadness now turning into anger. “God, and I thought you loved me, maybe even at least liked me but instead I’m just some piece of meat you can throw around for the fun of it.”

Done with the conversation and him, you started to make your way back out to class, not listening to his pleas for you to say and talk. 

Since then, it was like you disappeared, Ajax never saw you in halls, with your friends, and whenever he did see you in class, you’d sit in the furthest seat from him. He tried to talk to you, and whenever he did you walked the other way or just flat out ignored him.

As the Rave’N approached, seeing all your friends getting excited about their outfits and dates, you just sat in silence listening to them all. 

“We’re gonna go shopping tomorrow, you wanna come?” You looked over at Yoko who was indicting her, Divina and Bianca. You still hadn’t told them about you and Ajax.

“I’m not going.” You said, your lips in a straight line.

“What?” Bianca looked at you in shock. 

“Ajax is going with Enid.” You said simply, looking back down at your textbooks. The three girls all shared looks of confusion with you, before turning back to speak to you seeing that you already were done with the conversation. “And I have been giving him the silent treatment since.”

Saturday morning, the day of the Rave’N, you just thought of it as a normal day, going down for breakfast by yourself now instead of with Ajax. 

Ajax had already been down at breakfast with Xavier who had talked an earful into him the past few days about the situation that occurred last weekend. 

“There’s your chance, go talk to her.” Xavier encouraged. Since meeting Ajax, he knew that sometimes he couldn’t really put his thoughts into words, constantly saying the wrong things. 

Slowly making his way towards you, you kept your back towards him. “Y/n.”

Not answering him, Ajax tried again, “Y/n.” Finally seeing that you were ignoring him, Ajax just sighed softly and went back to sit down. 

“She won’t even answer me.” He sighed watching you go sit with your friends.

Xavier just nodded silently not wanting to bud his head into whatever was going on with the two of you. 

As the day started to pass, everyone was getting ready for the dance. You helped your roommate with her hair and makeup, just ignoring her pleas to join her and her date. 

“Just go.” You smiled softly, “I’ll be fine on my own.”

You loved Liv, she was your best friend and she knew that you were looking forward to going to Rave’N with Ajax. 

Meeting her date at the entrance, the two of them walked in together, Ajax noticing Liv. 

“Hey Liv!” He yelled out to her. 

“Ajax.” She said coldly, she had comforted you over the past few days post breakup and heard all about him, “Aren’t you supposed to be with Enid?”

Wincing, Ajax sighed knowing that you told her, “Look, last weekend when me and Y/n were suppose to go out, I accidentally stoned myself and stood her up and when I went to go tell her, I froze and lied said I was with Enid and asked her to Rave’N. I was embarrassed to tell her what happened and now she won’t speak to me and I wanted to tell her the truth but she’s not here.”

Conflicted, Liv could tell that he was sincere, he loved you, looking at you like you hung from the stars, and she knew you held the same amount of love for him even after you broke up with him. 

“She didn’t come.” Liv said softly, “She didn’t want to see the two of you together, she’s in her room.”

Before Ajax could run off, Liv grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him back. “If I hear another peep about you hurting her in any way, I will go full wolf and attack, you hear me.”

Ajax stared in shock, nodding his head, whispering out a quiet, “yes” before running out. 

“Liv, I’m not going!” You sighed hearing her knock on the door, “I already told you.” 

Hearing the knock again, you grumbled stomping towards it, “Liv just-what are you doing here?”

Out of breath, Ajax was panting as he spoke, “I’m sorry that I ditched you, I was dumb and stoned myself in the bathroom and made a lie about you because I was embarrassed, I know your mad at him, I mean who wouldn’t be, and I came to say I’m-”

“Woah, woah, slow down.” You nodded. 

“I’m an idiot.” He confessed, slowly holding your hands in his. “I was a shitty boyfriend, I lied to you because I was embarrassed of myself and made you feel horrible. I know that you were looking forward to going to the Rave’N and you’re here because of me. This probably won’t make up for any of it but I wanted to ask you to the dance last weekend, had a whole thing planned and I ruined it.”

You just stared at him, letting go of his hands, before punching his bicep. 

“Ow!” He furrowed his brows, rubbing his arm. Grabbing a hold of his jacket, you pulled him down towards you, smashing your lips onto his. Sliding your hands up to his neck, you licked his bottom lip, wrapping your lips around his bottom. Pulling apart, you let out a ‘pop’ as you came apart. 

“I’m so confused.” He said in a daze. 

“You’re an idiot.” You spoke to him for the first time in a week. “A lovesick idiot.” 

Ajax watched as a small smile appeared on your face, before morphing into laughter. Puzzled, he just stared at you like a madman. 

“You stoned yourself.” You spoke through your laughter. Ajax couldn’t be mad, just happy you were even speaking to him.

“A-Are we okay?” He questioned. Composing yourself, you stood back up, smiling at him again. 

“We’re okay.” You said, “And I’m sorry for yelling at you and ignoring you.”

“You had every right.” Ajax persisted, “The things I said to you were terrible, but hopefully we can be together again, no more break and I could take you to the Rave’N.”

“Ask me.” You prompted, Ajax looked at you confused before the bell went off in his head. 

“Y/n, would you like to go to the Rave’N with me?”

“Of course.” You whispered, kissing his cheek softly. Pulling him back into your room, you scrambled all around getting ready in record time, applying the finishing touches to your outfit and makeup. 

Escorting you back down, making a fashionably late entrance, you saw your group of friends smiling at the two of you. 

“Please say you’re back together?” Liv asked suddenly, “It’s been killing us, we’re like children of divorce.” The rest all agreed with her.

“We never broke up, we were on a break.” You laced your fingers with his. “But yes we’re together.”

“Great, can you please enjoy tonight then.” Smiling, you all made your way to the dance floor, everyone dating with their dates and each other.

Ajax’s arms were wrapped around your waist, your hands around his neck, the two of you dancing along to the music.

As the song came to end, being replaced with a slower song, you felt Ajax pull you closer towards him, your head resting on his chest, guiding you to lightly sway back and forth. 

Closing your eyes, you smiled against his chest, never expecting to be here and with your boyfriend. 

“I love you.” You heard him whisper into your ear. “I always do.”

“I love you too, my love.”

fin.

#ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus x fem!reader #ajax petropolus x girlfriend!reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday #ajax petropolus #georgie farmer

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

Legolas & Aragorn - You Give Him The Silent Treatment

Legolas

- emotional cues are a little difficult for elves

- at first, Legolas doesnt even register that he’s done something to upset you. he assumes that for whatever reason, you want your own space for a while, and he doesnt mind that

- the tension between the two of you in passing is utterly lost to him, he genuinely doesnt even feel it because he’s an oblivious boy

- it’s only when his father, King Thranduil, alerts him of the situation that Legolas begins to understand

“The two of you had a disagreement and you refused to look at her while you were watching the hills, is this true?”

“Yes.”

“My son, when you talk to your love with eyes that linger anywhere but her, it will raise doubts from the grave that then torment her mind.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

- Legolas went on a mission to find you after that, and it didnt take him long

- you were sitting under a tree, reading a book of spells

- Legolas sat down in front of you

“Melamin(My love), are you alright?”

- you hummed in response, refusing to lift your gaze from the book

- Legolas sighed

“I am deeply sorry for the pain I have caused by being so oblivious to your feelings, it was not my intent. Human emotion is a subject I am yet to master, but I am sure that verbal communication could resolve this, so what do you say?”

- you didnt say anything. you slammed your book shut, stood up and walked away from him

- alarm bells rang inside the young elf’s head, this was far worse than he anticipated

- he ran after you and grabbed your wrist with determination, but enough sense to be gentle in his gesture

“Please, do not part with me when the storm still follows you.”

- it was your turn to sigh

“What is there to say? You thought you resolved the issue of ignoring me in sight by ignoring me in every other sense.”

- Legolas finally understood, you felt neglected

“Lirimaer(Lovely one), I have been a dreadful partner to you in allowing you to believe such falsehoods. There is no existence I treasure more than yours! I swear on my mother’s last breath, I will do everything to show my adoration in further ways that you understand.”

- you turned to face him, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time in a week

- you smiled, and his heart sang songs of pure bliss as he pulled you into his arms

“Will you give me the opportunity to prove that I am worthy of caring for your heart?”

“Legolas, proving that would be fruitless; my heart is yours for eternity regardless of your actions.”

“Then I will do well to make that a blessing rather than a burden.”

Aragorn

- your relationship with Aragorn remained a secret during the time spent with the Fellowship

- you didnt want to be recognised as a distraction to Aragorn or a tag-along, you wanted to be treated as an equal member of the team

- but in keeping your relationship a secret, Aragorn was a free man to any woman’s eyes, including Éowyn

- considering the circumstances, you had no right to be angry at her advances, but they boiled the blood in your veins to a heat even that Balrog couldnt stand

- the final straw came when your beloved drank from a goblet presented to him by Éowyn, and once he had gone, her uncle congratulated her on establishing a romance with Aragorn

- you stormed out of the bar and Aragorn ran after you, the streets of Rohan were quiet while every voice that resided there was hollering in the bar, meaning there was no reason to hide

- Aragorn ran in front of you and stopped, holding your shoulders and trying to read your countenance as you avoided his eyes

“My love, what vengeance is it that fuels you this night?”

- you just shook your head and tried to break free from his grasp, Aragorn frowned

“You wish to escape me, am I the source of your rage?”

- you scoffed and lifted your gaze to look at him with fire in your eyes

“Your ‘love’ is among the sea of voices concealed by those walls, is she not? The fair maiden who stole your heart, may the skies bless the happy couple! It is not my business to interfere with a man who is spoken for, I beg your forgiveness and part with sweet sorrows!”

- with that, Aragorn released you and you hid yourself away at the inn

- Aragorn was shaken, he could not believe how careless he had been with your feelings

- in keeping your relationship a secret, he had broken his promise of protecting you from harm, and he was to blame for your anguish

- he visited the door of your room at the inn every single day, bringing you flowers and fruits he had picked himself, but you never answered the door

- on the seventh day, there was a gentle tap on the window that awoke you from a restless sleep

- you tried to fall back into your slumber, but another tap on the window disturbed you

- rubbing your eyes tiredly, you stepped out of bed and shuffled over to the window in your nightdress

- you frowned as you remembered you were on the second floor, nobody could reach you from the window, could they?

- pushing open the small wooden doors, you were greeted by the early morning sun, and the view of Aragorn standing on the grass below you, a collection of pebbles in his hand

- he grinned as he saw you, clearing his throat before he began to dramatically shout up at you

“And there she is! My sweet angel, the only mortal fairer than any elf could dream of being! The keeper of my heart, my sun, my sea, my skies - who need not bless the happy couple, because the happy couple is blessed enough to be!”

- a crowd began to gather around Aragorn as he drew attention to himself with his monologue, the Fellowship joined him at his sides, all of them appearing unsurprised by his confession, Pip and Merry even exchanging food in the form of a bet, had they known all this time?

- Éowyn watched on from a few feet away, appearing happy and also unsurprised, had Aragorn spoken to her about this?

- Aragorn looked at the ground in disdain

“But I have wronged her, scorned her, brought tears to the delicate flower I promised to protect! I am a fool, not of a Took, but of a man!”

- he lifted his head to smile at you again

“It is I, who must beg your forgiveness, and I will do so in a way that reveals my heart’s devotions.”

- with that, Aragorn lowered himself to his knees, everyone in the crowd gasping, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth with your hands

- Aragorn raised his hands to you in a prayer position

“Will you give a beggar one last kiss?”

- you grinned and ran from the window, out of the door to your room, down the stairs and out of the inn, directly into the (still kneeling) Aragorn, who immediately wrapped his arms around you

- you kissed him with passion that was perhaps inappropriate given the number of witnesses, but neither of you seemed to care

- when you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, and Aragorn grinned

“Was that the last kiss?”

- you shook your head

“The first of many.”

#aragorn #legolas #aragorn x reader #legolas x readeer #aragorn imagine #legolas imagine #x reader #lord of the rings #lotr #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being Bill's spouse, and getting hurt during the war.

St Mungos was full past capacity after the war, and they were pushing out anyone that they could to make beds for those that needed quick and drastic treatment. You had been one of the ones that was considered ‘fit enough to be home’ despite the fact that you were in a near-coma. The magic that was keeping you alive could be administered at home by your husband. Your condition wasn’t considered enough of an emergency. So day after day, Bill was watching over you. He grieved for his brother, but he was refusing to grieve for you. You were still breathing. You had to have a chance. Your heart was still beating. He heard it when he lied next to you, keeping you warm, hoping his body heat would do something. Anything. The only time that he left your side was to be at his brother’s funeral. You would have wanted him to go. He knew this. So he left you in the care of one of his friends for a couple of hours, and then hurried back anxiously as soon as it was done. He was terrified, deep down, that he was going to come home and find that you were no longer among the living. He made himself a cup of tea to soothe the nerves after checking on you. Sipping it, he went and he sat in the chair which was eternally by your bedside, and took your hand, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. The magic kept you breathing - but it could not wake you up. Nobody had been able to catch which spell had hit you, so no one knew how to reverse it, how to cure you, and it was tearing him up inside. He was letting himself feel for his brother, letting himself miss the goofy grin and mischievous antics of the one that he had lost. He had fallen asleep telling you every detail of the funeral, tears falling down his face, until he had fallen asleep, half of him wishing that … that he had been able to join you in the in-between so that he wouldn’t have to feel like this. Until a squeezing sensation on his hand woke him up. His head shot up, neck sore from when it had been drooping in sleep, and the first thing that he saw were your eyes, blinking awake. He paused, frozen, wondering if this was a dream. Was he going to wake up? If he moved, he just might, and he wanted to soak this in for as long as he could. The image of your eyes - he’d missed it so much. “Bill?” And your voice. He missed that too. It sounded haggard from disuse, from dryness. But it was still undeniably your voice. And you said it again, your eyes blinking, trying to get adjusted to the late afternoon light coming through the windows. He couldn’t hold still anymore. Even if this was a dream - he’d be happy to end it like this. With him rushing in to hug you, no words feeling big enough, good enough, meaningful enough when he could just hug you and hold you. And so he did, your tired but happy humming becoming more musical notes added to the score of his life, proving that this wasn’t the end of your story together after all.

Requested by: Anonymous

#Bill Weasley #Bill Weasley x reader #Bill Weasley imagines #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagines #request #imagines #x reader #billw

[cloudcountry]

cracks

Genre/Tropes: Fixing up someone's wounds after a fight.

Summary: You take care of Ruggie after his Overblot even though he's still on his guard.

Author's Comments: I'm so glad I've been getting a lot of Ruggie requests because I love him.

~~~~~

“Prefect, you don’t need to worry about me.” Ruggie tried to wiggle out of your hold again, his face marred with cracked scars.

“Ruggie, I’m telling you, sit still!” you insisted, pressing your fingers over the cracks in his arms, “You’re not fine! Your skin is all cracked…you’re bleeding!”

“I’ve been through worse. This is nothing.” he huffed, tucking his arms into his chest, “Go away. You’re such a weirdo. I don’t need to be pampered like this-”

“It’s not pampering!” you hissed, whipping your head back towards the Heartslabyul students, “Go get him some water!”

The order was barked at no one in particular, but it was heard. You briefly saw Deuce take off towards the school and Ace follow as Riddle conversed with Headmaster Crowley. Trey and Cater were by your side, but kept their distance from you and Ruggie. You mentally thanked them for staying away from the two of you. Ruggie didn’t need to be crowded by everyone—you were more than enough—especially when he was like this.

“Ow, watch it!” he hissed, arms shooting towards his side.

You swallowed thickly and loosened your grasp on him. He sighed, ears flat against his head as he glared up at you.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” he huffed, “Fine. I’ll get treatment. Just stop holding me like this.”

You realized then that one of your arms was looped around his waist, and the other propping up his head. You blinked as his gaze bore into yours. He could have used his signature spell. He could have fought you off easily. He had definitely gone through worse. He could have run away. He should have run away by now.

You removed your arms from him, shifting your positions so that his head was resting on your thighs. He huffed again, but made no move to get up. You wanted to hold him, to soothe him, to let him know that it would be okay, but you refrained. He’d hate that.

“Prefect! I found a few water bottles! Ace brought a first aid kit with him but he’s slower than me so he’ll probably be a bit-” Deuce skidded to a stop in front of you, gulping in a breath of air.

“Who are you calling slow?!” Ace yelled, whacking him upside the head with the familiar red box, “Prefect, this idiot insisted on grabbing protein bars too! So if anyone’s late it’s because of him!”

You weren’t paying attention to a single thing they said, snatching the water and protein bars out of Deuce’s hands at lightning speed. The two got the hint and dropped their argument for now, setting the rest of the stuff in their hands at your feet.

“Drink.” you demanded, pressing a cold bottle to Ruggie’s chest.

He didn’t say anything but didn’t waste a second. You watched with relief as he gulped down the water. You pressed a protein bar to his chest and he ripped it open with his teeth.

“Moisturizer.” you mumbled, eyes catching on the cracks down his arms, “Does anyone have moisturizer on them?”

“Cater does.” Trey said from behind him, his brow furrowed, “He gave it to me a few moments ago. He and his body doubles are going to tell the rest of the faculty about what happened.”

“Thank you.” you opened the container immediately, scooping a generous amount of the cosmetic product onto your fingers, “Ruggie. Ruggie, can I have your hand?”

His fist clenched against his chest as he eyed you warily.

“I can do it myself.” he shot back, reaching for the moisturizer.

You didn’t have time to react to his admission before the cracks in his arms opened more, blood beading in the wounds.

“Stop moving!” you shrieked, catching his arm and placing it gently on his chest, “I can do it, just please…stop hurting yourself.”

“I told you I’m fine! Just let me deal with this, I appreciate you getting me food and water, is that what you want to hear? I owe you, Prefect. Now can I go on my way and get the treatment you want me to get so bad?” he argued, beginning to squirm again.

“You would have done that by now if you could!” you yelled, holding back the urge to shake him by the shoulders, “You would have gotten up and joked around with everyone about what just happened! The only reason you’re not is because you can’t!”

“I don’t need your pity. I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. Fighting takes a lot out of you, you know?” Ruggie propped himself up on his elbows, “I’m-”

“Ruggie, you could run from Ace and Deuce for so long. You’ve always been fast and energetic. I’ve seen you during Spelldrive. Fights don’t wear you out.” you took a deep breath before staring into his eyes again, holding out the lotion, “So…please?”

Ruggie rolled his eyes and thrust his hand into yours. You whispered a quiet thank you as you got to work, gently rubbing in the cream so as to not irritate his skin further.

“You’re so strong.” you mumbled, rubbing little circles up his arm, “You’re so reliable. You’re really clever and resourceful, and you never let yourself get walked all over. You look out for the people closest to you and you truly have a heart of gold.”

“What are you talking about?” he sounded so disgruntled, his eyes glued to the sandy ground.

“I’m talking about you.” you sighed, “I’d like to be someone you can depend on. I’d like to help you. I don’t want to take care of you or coddle you like a baby. I know how much you don’t like that. You came to my aid during this Overblot and I can’t thank you enough. This is how I’m showing the beginning of my gratitude. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Ruggie shifted, his head turning to look up at you. His expression was still guarded, but you didn’t expect that to change. The most you could have asked for was to make sure he got out of this okay after trying to protect you.

“You’re still weird.” he mumbled, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just a bit.

You said nothing as you dressed his wounds, wrapping up the cracks you could see in bandages. You did nothing but watch as the newly arrived Crewel helped Ruggie towards the school’s infirmary. You only moved again when Trey silently placed a hand on your back, gently pushing you towards the space in which Ruggie had left. Whispering a small thank you to him, you began to follow his path to the infirmary.

#auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader #hyena propaganda #ruggie doesnt want help but yk what #hes getting it #he deserves to be taken care of #he works so hard #pamper the boy!!!!!!

[simply-whump]

The Heavenly Idol (성스러운 아이돌) - Whump List

Whumpee : Rembrary / Woo Yeon Woo played by Kim Min Gue

Synopsis : Pontifex Rembrary is widely regarded as having the most powerful divine power ever. While he fights against a devil, he gets transferred to a different world. He then finds himself in a small dormitory and possesses the body of Woo Yeon Woo, who is a member of the unpopular idol group Wild Animal. (MDL)

Genres : Comedy, Romance, Fantasy

⚠️TW⚠️ There are talks about suicide in multiple episodes

Warning ! Possible spoilers below!

Rembrary / Woo Yeon Woo

Ep 1 : Chased, hit by some magic, falls down his horse, attacked, protecting himself with magic, struggling, thrown to the ground, shoulder injured, healed with magic, using magic, stumbling, head spinning, headache — Transported from his fantasy world to our world, screaming, really confused, a bit manhandled — Brought to the hospital — Cuts his palm, heals himself

Ep 2 : Tries to use his powers, gasping in pain, passes out — Looks really tired — Uses too much power, sweating, collapses, passes out, found unconscious, concern for him, wakes up briefly before passing out again (Gif Set)

Ep 3 : Unconscious, concern for him, slapped, heavy lidded eyes, speaking weakly — Coughing — Feeling dizzy

Ep 4 : None

Ep 5 : Using a lot of power, struggling — Knife at his throat, restrained 

Ep 6 : Bag on his head, restrained — Restrained, taken by the police — Handcuffed in an interrogation room — Attacked with a knife, thrown against a wall, stopping the blade with his bare hand, bleeding, struggling, running away, stabbed in the shoulder, crying out in pain, collapses, passes out (Gif Set) — Wakes up on a stretcher, concern for him, heavy-lidded eyes, speaking weakly — At the hospital, bloody, refusing treatment, wincing in pain, hand treated, wincing in pain, concern for him (Gif Set) — Walking with an IV drip, hand and shoulder bandaged, talking bout sad memories — Helped to walk, bumps his shoulder against some furniture, wincing in pain, concern for him

Ep 7 : Under the influence of a spell, has to do everything someone tells him to do, forced to drink, drunk, told to drive a car and to crash, slammed against a car, collapses on the ground, concern for him, (Gif Set), freed from the spell

Ep 8 : Worried for someone, attacked, protecting himself with a magical shield, stabbed in the leg, bleeding, (Gif Set), healing himself

Ep 9 : Falls down some stairs (comedic) — Can’t use his powers, shocked, desperate, blaming himself, teary-eyed — Told to go kill himself if he wants to save everyone, pushed against a wall, angry, has a panic attack, can’t breath, collapses, passes out (Gif Set)

Ep 10 : Wakes up in bed, vision blurry, looking exhausted, depressed, wishes to kill himself to save everyone, worried — Falsely accused of all sorts of horrible things — Covered in flour and eggs — (Flashback) Found unconscious — (Present) Has a panic attack, breathless, holding his chest, half-collapses, heavy breathing, looking exhausted (Gif Set) — Surrounded by paparazzi, has another panic attack, has trouble breathing, saved, saying hurtful things to his loved one — Depressed — Has a third panic attack, has trouble breathing, blaming himself — Manhandled, using his powers, collapses unconscious, concern for him (Gif Set) — Wakes up in bed, heavy-lidded eyes

Ep 11 : Restrained, put to his knees, attacked — Attacked, thrown to the ground, stabbed in the shoulder, falls down the stairs, unconscious, bleeding from the head, (Gif Set), wakes up back in his fantasy world, chained, sword pointed at him (Gif Set) — Back in our world his body is found unconscious, concern for him, hospitalized, oxygen mask, waking up, heavy lidded eyes — Told he has to die for the people to be saved, magic used on him, in pain, collapses to the ground, told to kill himself, feeling betrayed, angry, collapses on his knees, devastated, crying, screaming, sobbing, comforted (Gif Set)

Ep 12 : Thrown to the ground — Hit with a wooden pole, restrained, taken away — Bag on his head, teary-eyed, magic used on him, in pain, his powers are being taken from him, gasping in pain, passes out — Stabbed, collapses, passes out

>> More Whump Lists

#the heavenly idol #whump list #asian whump #whump #kdrama #korean drama #kim min gue

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part seventeen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

a bright spot, and some not so bright ones.

a/n: THE LONGEST PART YET. I crammed a lot in here honestly, and some of it probably pretty canon-divergent BUT we got two eps left and I still have a lot of unanswered questions which means we are RIFFING and I am MAKING SHIT UP OKAY but this is pretty much an au at this point sooooooo it is what it is

word count: 8.5k (I KNOW)

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, canon typical violence/injuries, blood, treatment of injuries, some pretty heavy violence, family fights, tHERE IS FLUFF ON THE WAY I PROMISE YOU OKAY (a bit in the next part, a looooooot in a few parts coming up)

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new chapters/works!✨

You just stare at him.

For a moment, Joel’s gut fills with dread. Oh fuck, is he fucking this up even harder? He just spelled out every terrible thing he’s done to stay alive since the outbreak, has that changed things? You had your fair share of horrible things to share, but…Shit, how can he f—

Your eyes narrow slightly, and you slide towards him, inching further toward the edge of the mattress. You wrap both hands around his forearm, the ring held between you, your eyes darting between it and Joel’s face. “Ask me again.”

Heat rises in Joel’s face and he drops his head for a moment before he feels your fingers under his chin, lifting. “What’re you—”

“Ask me again,” you repeat, chewing your lip, an excited flare in your eyes, “so I know I’m not dreaming.”

Joel swallows, throat bobbing, and licks his lips before, “Marry me, Liv.”

Your gaze roams his face for a moment, silver tears lining your lashes. “Yes.”

As soon as he slides the ring onto your finger, you lunge for him, throwing your arms around his neck, the pair of you sprawling backwards on the floor. He grunts as he lands on his back, and you flinch, grabbing for his head. “Shit, Joel, are you okay?”

“M’fine,” he chuckles, laughing under his breath as you start peppering kisses all over his face. It’s nice, to see you like this, a different version of the Liv he’s come to know now, but with that spark, that excitement, that same girl he romanced in the aisles of a hardware store so long ago. You’re giddy, giggling into his mouth when he kisses you, twines his fingers in your hair.

You don’t move from the floor, and Joel hums when you fit yourself against him — like you haven’t been doing it all night. You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers, bending your thumb to rub it over the band. “Where’d you find it?”

“The jewelry store,” Joel replies, lifting his jaw until his mouth is pressed to your forehead. “The day you…” He trails off, chewing the inside of his cheek. It goes without saying, he realizes. The day you got bit. “Thought about giving it to you that night, but it didn’t feel right. And then when we got back…”

“My ex shot you in the head,” you finish, and immediately burst into laughter. Joel can’t help but laugh along, spurred more so by the lightness in your tone, the smile on your face. “There’s something funny in there, I think.”

“Poetic justice,” Joel says, but then his brow crinkles. “Or is it irony? I can’t remember.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumble, rolling up onto your elbow, lifting yourself slightly above him. You hold your hand up again, bring it closer for inspection. “It really is beautiful, Joel. I love it.”

Joel hums, trailing his fingers across your back. “I’m glad, baby.” You press your lips together, the giddiness fading slightly, and Joel can see it in your eyes, the way the wheels in your head are turning. “I know it’s not the same, no more big white dresses and all that, but I just—”

“I don’t care,” you declare, cutting him off. Your hand falls onto his chest, crawls up until his jaw is set in your palm, and you turn his face to yours. “It’s always been you, Joel. No question. I don’t need the big white dress.” You let out a little noise, half scoff, half laugh. “If things were…normal, I’d drag your ass to Vegas this very instant.”

“Well, I dunno above Vegas,” he replies, turning his face to kiss at your fingertips, “but there’s the FEDRA office down by the front gate and Tess brought back a bottle of Johnnie Walker from her last run.”

“Sounds like a wedding to me!”

+

In a shocking fucking twist, it doesn’t go as planned.

It’s two weeks later. You’re halfway home from the front gate office, marriage license tucked in Joel’s pocket, your ring tucked into your shirt. You wore it on your finger for the first day after Joel proposed, but it earned you a few looks walking through the QZ, so you were quick to find a chain in the piles of jewellery you’ve collected, stringing it around your neck for safer keeping.

Joel’s got his arm slung around your neck, mumbling to you about how he still hasn’t been able to find a replacement bed frame for your place, but that he saw some cinderblocks on the lower levels of the building across the street, and thinks he can make something temporary with that, that he thinks the box spring should be enough support. You’re listening, nodding along, your fingers laced with his, almost feeling drunk on the thought that he’s your husband now. Officially. Signed on the dotted line and everything. Mrs. Miller, nice to meet you.

You’re going back to your place. Both Tommy and Tess were thrilled for you both — and you didn’t miss Tommy’s sidelong glance at Tess — and agreed to dinner and drinking after you and Joel went to sign the papers. Truly the best way to celebrate anything in the QZ.

You are listening to what Joel’s saying, having moved on from your broken bed frame to the space beneath your wardrobe, how he thinks he can piece out the floorboards so you can stash stuff at home and still keep it hidden. You are listening, but you’re also distracted, glad that he’s directing you home, cuz your eyes are stuck on his ridiculously handsome. You’ve never seen his hair this long — though the space above his right ear is still much shorter — but it’s wavy, flipping out around his ears, curling against the back of his neck.

How is it possible that Joel Miller has managed to get better looking as the fucking world has ended?

“Baby, what’re you lookin’ at?” he asks, his brow raising slightly.

You go to answer, lips parted to tell him exactly what you’re looking at, when the sound of gunfire makes you jump. Instantly, Joel is pushing you against the nearest building, using his body to shield you. The ground beneath you shakes as a FEDRA truck parked at the next intersection explodes, flames curling towards the sky, debris raining down. Joel pulls you into a crouch, shuffles you back until you can slip into an alleyway.

You’re both in fight mode, instantly. Of course, you don’t have any weapons handy; the bat is stowed beneath the floorboards in the apartment, the guns are all in the cache, except for Joel’s revolver, which is tucked alongside your bat. Joel presses you against the brick, one hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You okay?”

“M’fine,” you reply, gripping his wrist, peering back up the alley. Worry is twisting your gut. “What the fuck was that?”

“Dunno,” Joel replies, shaking his head. His brow is furrowed, the crease between deeper than usual, and you want nothing more than to smooth it flat, make him relaxed. Fuck this fucking—

“FREE BOSTON, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

The ground shakes again, screams echoing from the mouth of the alley and you…

You freeze. Your throat seizes, stomach dropping into your toes, and suddenly, it’s 2003 all over again. You’re stuck in that godforsaken bookstore, being yanked out of sleep by the sound, the ground beneath your feet rumbling, people screaming and Infected howling and it won’t stop, it won’t stop, make it stop, why won’t it—

“Liv,” Joel calls, his voice louder than your thoughts, and you’re pulled out of it, almost. The ground shakes again, someone shouts, gunfire echoes, and you whimper. “Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here. I’m gonna get you home, all right? You’re okay.”

He crushes you to his chest, his arms a tight band around your torso. You’re gripping the front of his shirt like a lifeline, and your breaths are coming so fast you’re instantly lightheaded, your vision blurring at the edges. There’s more gunfire, and you let go of his shirt only to clap your hands over your ears, burying your face in his chest.

More shouting, and Joel’s grip on you tightens. It takes you a moment to realize he’s shouting too, and you can just make it out. “What the fuck is a Firefly?”

Confusion takes over the panic, and you peel your face from his chest just enough to glance down the alley. McCoy is standing there, gun brandished, a hard expression as he looks between you and Joel. Beyond the alley, another bomb explodes, another truck, and you all flinch, Joel shielding you further.

“I’m taking you both in,” McCoy shouts, and Joel releases you only to push you behind him. “I have to.”

“The hell you are,” he spits, an arm held out to the side. “I need to take her home.”

“C’mon, Joel,” McCoy replies, shaking his head. “You know I have to—”

“You don’t have to fuckin’ do anything,” Joel shouts, and you grip the back of his shirt. “You really think we’re stupid enough to hang around if we planted that shit?”

Somewhere, you find your voice. “Who are the Fireflies?”

The soldier’s brow goes hard, and he lowers the gun. The knot in your stomach unravels slightly. “You really don’t know?”

“Does it sound like we know, McCoy?” you retort, stepping closer to Joel, still keeping yourself behind him. “We’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. Clearly.”

“Who are the Fireflies?” Joel repeats, and you can hear more soldiers shouting in the street, the explosions apparently over. You curl your fingers tighter in the fabric of Joel’s shirt.

McCoy steps towards you, glancing over his shoulder as he does. “It’s a rebel group, we think. No one really knows who’s running it, where they’re based, but we know this is them. Someone caught wind of it, and well, it’s—”

“Just let us go, McCoy,” you call, shuffling a step back, taking Joel with you. “You know we’re not part of this.”

He sighs, letting his gun drop, waving at you both. “Just get the fuck out of here, will you?”

You tug on Joel’s shirt, and he falls into step with you, the both of you turning down the alley, Joel with his arm around your shoulders again. You’re in a good spot; near enough to one of your shortcuts through the city to get home without crossing any patrol paths. You feel like a spooked cat the entire way, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, your spine tingling with every step.

It’s not until you’re back in the apartment that your body relaxes slightly, but your heart is still racing, sinking into a kitchen chair the moment it’s within reach, pushing your face into your hands. Joel locks the door, crosses to the window, peers past the curtain.

“Fuckin’ car bombs in the QZ,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You gotta be kiddin’ me. Like the fuckin’ infection isn’t enough to deal with, now we gotta worry about getting blown to shit in the middle of the—”

“Joel, stop it,” you blurt, hands pressed against your eyes. “Please, just…just stop.”

“Baby,” he calls, his tone changing, softening, and a moment later you hear the chair beside yours squeak across the floor, a warm palm on your leg. “It’s okay. Talk to me. What happened back there? You…you shut down, Liv.”

You swallow hard, your heartbeat in your throat, and slowly lower your hands. “It’s one thing, talking about what happened back then. When it all first…happened. Dean, the bombings, the hiding, Nick. But…feeling it again, feeling like I was right back there, like no time had passed, like I was still…” 

You trail off, voice cracking on the words, and Joel reaches for you. You let him, let him gather you into his lap, hold you in his arms, bury your face in his neck, inhaling deeply. He rubs slow circles across your shoulders, up and down your spine, over and over until you can feel your heart slowing to a normal rate, your breathing no longer shallow, the wetness in your eyes receding.

After a while, he slides his hand up and into your hair, tugs light until you lift your face to look at him. “I want you to listen to me,” Joel says, his voice soft, his tone gentle. “We go nowhere without each other, you understand? I won’t let anything happen to you, Fireflies or Infected or FEDRA. No one’s taking you from me, not now, not ever. You hear me?”

You nod. “I hear you.”

Joel brushes the hair from your face, a tiny grin tugging at his lips as he cups your cheek in his palm, thumb swiping over the curve. “I love you,” he pauses, grins wider, “Mrs. Miller.”

The knot in your gut disappears completely, replaced with a rush of happiness that almost knocks you over. You can’t stop yourself from grinning into his kiss, melting into him as you go.

+

In the weeks following the Firefly attack, you’re reluctant to leave the apartment, but Joel doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t push, goes with you to the food bank just to get you outside, lets you tag along with him to do odd jobs around the building. Tommy asks, but Joel brushes his brother off, telling him you’ve had a hard time finding QZ jobs that appeal. 

After a particularly long day, one that has him blowing his hair out of his face all day, he comes home in a mood. You had followed him earlier in the day, but headed down a few hours before, claiming that you wanted to play housewife and have dinner waiting when he got home. You could barely get the sentence out without choking on giggles, and Joel had kissed you soundly and pushed you in the direction of the stairs. The moment he’s through the door, he’s grumbling at you that he’s gonna shave his fucking head, pushing unruly curls off his forehead.

“You will do no such thing, Joel Miller,” you chide, locking the door after him, directing him to one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit. I’ll fix it.”

You fetch a pair of scissors from the bathroom, metal-handled ones he’s never seen before, but you don’t start cutting straight away. You stand behind him, and drag your fingers through his hair. He doesn’t know the last time he let it get this long; probably sometime back when he was a teenager, when every rockstar had long hair and he still had dreams of something not construction-related.

Joel sinks into your touch, your nails raking along his scalp. He lets his head tip back, resting against your stomach, and you laugh quietly, moving one hand along his jaw, scratching through his beard. Fuck, it feels nice, and he can’t stop the moan that slips out, one arm bending back to keep you where you’re standing. “Keep doin’ that.”

He blinks up at you, and you smirk, pulling your hand back up to his scalp, dragging your nails through his hair again. “Can’t do this if you shave your head.”

Joel grunts. “It’s too fuckin’ long,” he tells you, and you hum, cupping the back of his head and lifting it straight again. “Keeps gettin’ in my eyes and shit.”

“Stay still,” you order, tilting his head slightly, leaning down to kiss his scar. “I’ll fix it.”

He loathes the loss of your hands as you pick up the scissors. You’re slow with it, methodical, pieces of his hair falling to the floor around the chair. You pause a few times to flick it off his shoulders. When you get around his head to the left side, he flinches at the suddenly much louder sound of the scissors, and you grip his shoulder.

“Joel?”

He’s been meaning to tell you. Really. He realizes this is turning into his M.O., to keep things to himself, to keep you out of the loop. And it’s not fair; you’re his wife now. He knows he has to tell you. He promised to keep you safe, and with this…how can he do that? How can he feel confident in his ability to keep his promises to you?

Joel opens his mouth to say it, to tell you what’s going on with him, but you beat him to the punch.

“I wanna go on a run.”

Everything in him stalls, the words on the tip of his tongue sliding back down his throat. “What?”

“I need to get out of the QZ, Joel. Even just a short one. Other side of the city, not where we…” You trail off. He catches your meaning. “We take Tess with us, or Tommy. Doesn’t really matter, I just…” You pause, pulling a lock of his hair between your fingers, snipping the end. “I need to do this, Joel. And you said it, we go nowhere without each other. I won’t go without you, but I need to.”

He’s silent, for a long moment. You don’t say anything more, continuing his haircut. Finally, you put the scissors down on the table, coming to step in front of him, leaning against the edge of the table. You reach up to brush his hair across his forehead, inspecting your handiwork. “How’s it look?”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “Handsome as ever.”

He reaches for your hand, tugging it between his own. “Liv, there’s somethin’…somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you.”

Joel can see the dip in your expression. He can almost hear your heart sink, and his gut twists with guilt as you lean back an inch, bracing yourself. “What is it?”

“Ever since that night, with Cowan,” he starts, finding himself struggling with the words. “Since he shot me, I—” He grunts, scrubs his hand over his face, staring down at your linked hands. “My hearing’s been off, in my right ear. Like it’s full of cotton or somethin’. I can’t…if we go out there again, Liv, I don’t know if I can,” he shakes his head, “if I can keep you safe.” He forces himself to look up at you. “I couldn’t keep you safe the last time we were out there, and after the Fireflies, I promised. I won’t let anything happen to you. I can’t. But out there, I’m—”

“Oh, Joel,” you nearly sigh, pulling your hand from his grip to cup his face in your hands. Your thumbs swipe his cheeks, and he lets himself sink into your touch, inhaling as you push your fingers through his hair again, mussing it into place. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I thought it would go away, eventually. That it was just a temporary thing, y’know? But it’s not, and I…” He shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Why are you apologizing?” you ask, sliding forward until you’re almost in his lap. “This isn’t your fault. It’s Nick’s.” He sees the hardness forming in your eyes. “Or…I guess it’s my fault, in a way.”

“No,” Joel says instantly, his hands finding your hips, squeezing. “You didn’t cause this.” Your head drops forward, and he kisses your forehead. “Feels like every time I turn around, there’s something else to fight off. I just want you safe, baby.”

Your hands slide through his hair, down the back of his neck, kneading at the meat of his shoulders. “And who keeps you safe, huh? That’s my job, isn’t it?” He nods, eyes falling from your face to your collar, where the chain around your neck is visible, the chain holding the ring he gave you. “If the Fireflies get bad, if we have to leave Boston, then we need to be prepared. And sitting around here doing nothing isn’t gonna help with that. So, we go for a run. We go to the radio room and see who we can contact, arrange something. We’ll ask Tommy to come; I love Tess but your brother’s a better shot by a landslide. And I guard your right side, no matter what.” You lean in and kiss his temple. “We’re a team, Joel. Always.”

He nods, tries to ignore the unease that twists his gut. “Always.”

+

“We still need to celebrate, y’know,” Tommy says to you, leaning forward so he can see you on the other side of Joel. “Since your wedding day got a bit overshadowed.”

Joel snorts. “There’s a fuckin’ word for it.”

You chuckle, letting yourself fall back half a step, the brothers slightly ahead of you. You’re on full alert, head on a swivel, ears pricking at every little noise. “At least the Fireflies have been quiet since then.”

“They’re just doing what they think is right,” Tommy says, and both your head and Joel’s snaps in his direction.

“You sound almost sympathetic, little brother,” Joel tells him, and you can see the way Tommy bristles at the nickname. “Like you agree with it.”

Tommy shrugs, adjusts his grip on his gun. “FEDRA’s been wreaking just as much havoc these days,” he says, and your brow hardens. “You know they’re gonna start hanging people for getting caught out past curfew? Like we’re goin’ back in fuckin’ time or something.”

You sidestep a piece of debris, catching up to Joel completely again. “Getting caught outside the QZ has always been a death sentence,” you say, “this isn’t anything new, unfortunately.”

“Says the woman who was nearly beat to death by a FEDRA officer.”

“Tommy,” Joel says, his tone warning. “Why are we talking about this, anyway? You been talking to  Fireflies?”

The younger Miller says nothing, and you just keep going.

You pointedly went in the opposite direction you and Joel had gone that day when you met Gwen. Just looking in that direction sends a chill down your spine, but you’re determined. Since that day in the QZ, when they blew up the trucks, you’ve been trying to push through it. The feeling still lingers, that terror, and you’re coming to realize that the terror is just…a part of life now. Joel helps, of course; his presence alone is enough to remind you that you’re not back there, that you’re still alive, that you can keep going, that you survived.

That you’re immune.

It’s another thing to add to the list, another tick in the back of your mind. Immune. You’ve gotten in the habit of tucking your shirts in on that side, just in case, not wearing anything that might ride up and show where you were bit.

You think about Anna, often. You wonder what happened, what FEDRA did. You try not to let your mind wander someplace dark, but it’s hard. You hope it was quick, painless. You hope she didn’t suffer.

My baby sister.

You’ve been good, thus far, keeping it a secret. Joel is a brick fucking wall, and you know he’s the last person you have to worry about letting anything slip. You feel bad, Tommy and Tess not knowing, but you know it’s safer this way, that they don’t. It would just put them at risk. Joel knowing is enough of a risk.

Letting Nick live with the knowledge was a risk, and look where that got you.

The thought has wormed its way into your mind more than once. Should you turn yourself in? Show them the scar, tell FEDRA just how long it’s been since you were bit? Let them haul you off to some facility, poke and prod and maybe kill you in the end? Is it safer that way?

What if you’re the answer? What if you’re the cure?

You’ve heard it before. Miracle cures, the answer to the infection, the final easy fix. Maybe that’s what you are. Maybe it’s not luck. Maybe it’s something else.

But whenever that thought appears, it’s accompanied by another. Joel’s voice, rasped in your ear. 

No one’s taking you from me, not now, not ever.

And then when he told you about his hearing…

You can’t leave him. You can’t do it. Is that selfish? Probably. Just add it to your list of sins. It’s long enough by now. What’s one more?

The drop goes off without a hitch — bullets and rations from a group in Providence — and it’s like a sigh of relief, a weight off your shoulder. You and Joel share a knowing smile, and you notice Tommy is still a touch distracted, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. You don’t say anything, and neither does Joel. 

You’re nearly halfway back, when you hear the scream, that inhuman noise that sends your heart racing every single time. Joel leads you behind a large truck, the three of you ducking low to wait for the Infected to pass. Tommy lifts his gun, peering through the scope, but Joel grabs the barrel. “Don’t,” he tells his brother, his tone almost scolding, and you nearly smack his shoulder.

Before the argument can even start between the brothers, a loud shot echoes through the street, the bullet finding a home in the Infected’s head, sending it stumbling forward before it slumps onto the ground. You slide towards the other side of the truck, peering around the truck, in the direction the bullet came from.

Eyes clap onto you before you can even think to hide.

“Liv?”

Fuck.

Joel’s staring at you, his gaze hard as steel, and your heart picks up in your chest. As far as Gwen and the people from Hartford know, you died that day. I’ll deal with it, Joel had said. Someone had cocked a gun, and he’d pushed them all out, claimed the burden for himself. But as far as they knew, you never made it back to Boston. Nearly three months ago, now, and yet here you are. Alive. Breathing.

Immune.

“I saw you, Liv,” Gwen shouts, and you nearly bang your head against the truck as Joel rises slightly, just enough to see who’s out there. “Come on out.”

“Fuck,” Joel grunts, and on his other side, Tommy looks between you two, his brow pinched with confusion.

“What?”

“Just keep low and keep your eye out,” Joel tells him, his voice low, and Tommy nods.

Slowly, you get to your feet, step around the truck, your hands in the air, gun hanging across your chest. There are four other men with Gwen, two faces you recognize from that day. Her brother, Trevor, and another man you never got the name of. As soon as you’re in the open, five guns are pointed at you, and behind you, you hear the click of Joel’s gun, not needing to turn to know he’s got his own weapon pointed at them, sweeping back and forth.

“Hi, Gwen.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she says, and you’ve never heard her voice so harsh. Every interaction you had with her, before that day, it was always pleasant. You were just survivors, trying to make your way, wanting what was best for your people. Now that you see her, she looks different. Her face is more sunken, her features more pronounced. She looks unwell — not infected, but not good. “I saw it myself. You got bit.”

“I did.”

“And you went back to Boston?” she almost spits, her face screwed up as she says it. “You put all those people at risk?”

“We waited it out,” you say, your hands still in the air. “I never turned, and so we went back. That was almost three months ago, Gwen. If it was gonna happen, it would have happened already.”

Her expression changes, and one of the men to her right says something. His gun lowers slightly, and so does Gwen’s as she turns to him. You’re too far away to make it all out, but you catch a few words.

Fireflies. Immune. The answer.

When Gwen’s eyes slide back to you, you have a pretty clear idea how this is gonna go. You remember what she told you when you met that day; that Hartford wasn’t what it used to be, that things were changing. If you had to guess, the Fireflies aren’t just infesting Boston.

“You’re coming with us,” she says, simply, like she’s discussing the weather. “The Fireflies have a plan, Liv. You could be part of that.”

“Like hell!” Joel shouts, and you turn your head slightly to see both him and Tommy on their feet, guns pointed toward the Hartford crew. “Anyone touches her, I won’t fuckin’ hesitate. We’re leaving.”

“James, grab her!” Gwen orders, and the man closest to you lunges forward, crossing the short distance between you. His hand extends towards you, and Joel’s first shot sounds, rippling through the air, the echo  ringing through your head.

The first bullet rips through James’ extended hand. He screams, stumbling to the side, and you hear the yank of the bolt handle, a casing clattering onto the asphalt. Another man lunges forward, bullets shattering the windows of the truck, and Joel’s second bullet hits the other man in the throat. Blood sprays as he falls, hot on your face, and the third bullet hits James again, right in the temple. Tommy’s gun is automatic, and you see Gwen and the other two men drop behind cover as he shoots.

“Liv, get down!” Joel shouts, and you drop like a stone, crawling back towards the truck. There’s enough space for you to slide beneath it, and you squeak as a bullet clips the heel of your boot. You’re nearly there, hands scrabbling against broken asphalt, when a hand wraps around your ankle, yanks you backward. Your stomach scrapes the gravel, making you scream.

Tommy drops the third man.

You kick off the limp hand, and surge forward again, under the truck. Joel reaches down and hauls you the rest of the way, his gun still pointed at the Hartford people. Tommy’s staring through his scope.

“It doesn’t haven’t to be like this!” Gwen shouts, her voice strained. You wonder if Tommy hit her. “Just come with us. We could fix everything! I’ll kill both your men and drag you to the Fireflies if I have to. Don’t make me do this, Liv!”

Joel stares at you. There’s blood on your face — not your own — and blooming under your fingers, beneath your shirt. “You okay?”

“Scraped,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine.”

His jaw goes tight. “We can’t leave them alive, Liv.”

The thought sinks like a stone through you, but you understand. Hartford was changing, who knew what that meant. Who knew what kind of hell might rain down on you if Gwen made it back to the rest of her people, if she regrouped and came after you again?

“You can save everyone, Liv!” Gwen nearly screams, and you lift your head slightly, just enough to see where she and her final man are. It’s a clear fucking shot. You look at Joel, reach for your sidearm, the smaller pistol strapped to your thigh. He nods, and you nod back; behind you, Tommy is breathing heavily.

“Don’t make me do this, Gwen!” you shout back, your voice hoarse. “Just let us go! Forget you ever saw me!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

You and Joel both rise at the same time, aim already locked, triggers pulled in unison. The final two drop together, and instantly, you stumble to the side, emptying your stomach into the gutter. The street is suddenly eerily silent, and a moment later, you feel a warm hand on your back, rubbed up your spine.

“You’re okay,” Joel says, and you just nod. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, spit onto the ground. Joel offers you a water bottle, and you mumble your thanks. He throws his arm around you once you’re upright, pulls you against his chest, palm against the back of your neck. “We had to.”

“I know,” you say, nodding. “She would have killed you both. I know that.”

It’s shit rationale, maybe, to anyone else. Your hands are shaking, and you step away to holster your gun, shove both hands through your hair. You can feel Joel looking you over, reaching out to wipe the blood from your face with the sleeve of his shirt. Your heart is still racing.

Then Tommy speaks, and your stomach plummets into your toes.

“Either of you wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

You open your mouth to explain, the story on the tip of your tongue, but Joel beats you to it. He reaches for you, wraps his hand around your wrist. “You can’t tell anybody, Tommy.” Joel moves himself in front of you, shielding you from his brother, and you can’t tell if it’s intentional or instinctual. “You need to keep your mouth shut.”

The younger Miller steps sideways, meeting your eyes over Joel’s shoulder. “You’re immune?”

Slowly, you nod. “Just like Anna.”

Tommy’s eyes slide to Joel. “You told her?”

“It was the only way to get her to stop beggin’ me to put a bullet in her head,” Joel answers, and your spine prickles with the memory. “Last run we went on. We got cornered in the drugstore near the edge of the city. And she…” He glances at you, something so sad in his eyes that your gut twists. “She got bit.”

“Gwen and her men were there,” you supply, stepping around Joel slightly. “We met them for a drop; that’s when we got cornered, and she…she saw it, the bite. She thought I was a goner, but Joel said he’d deal with it, and they left.”

“And now they’re dead,” Tommy snaps, and you flinch. You’ve never heard his voice so stern. “You came back to Boston, after all that? You put that whole fucking city at risk, Liv! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“We waited it out, Tommy,” Joel spits, and you can hear the anger rising in his tone. “You remember Anna. It was the same. Liv is the same. It’s been months now.”

“I’ve stayed off the radio since then,” you offer, another pitiful excuse, “in case Gwen came across the wrong channel. Joel arranged the drop today, and no one else knows.” You glance over your shoulder. “They would have killed you both, Tommy.”

“You promised,” he grits, staring at his brother. “The moment we were all in Boston, you promised me, Joel. You fucking swore.”

“I’m protecting my family,” Joel replies, his hands clenching into fists. You reach out, squeeze his arm, but he just goes even more tense. “I’m protecting you.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, a tension in the air you feel like you could cut with a knife. Tommy’s gaze slides to you again. “Tess doesn’t know?”

“Nobody knows,” you repeat. “No one. Except for Cowan.”

Tommy’s eyes go wide. “You told a fucking FEDRA soldier?!”

“Not on purpose,” you sigh. “He figured it out. That’s why he took Deanna and the kids.” You can feel the tell-tale prick of tears behind your eyes. “I never meant for any of this, Tommy.”

Those dark eyes — darker than Joel’s — pin you in place for a moment that manages to feel like an eternity. Finally, he tears his gaze away, slings his gun over his shoulder, and starts heading back in the direction of the city.

Joel reaches for your hand, and you follow suit, leaving the bloody street behind you.

+

Joel keeps a careful eye on his brother.

He’s always felt like he could trust Tommy. Sure, he was a bit of a shit when they were growing up, always relying on Joel for one thing or another. Bail money or a case of beer or a job or a part for his truck, the list went on and on. Joel never once felt like he was owed something, like there was some debt for his brother to repay. Tommy’s family, that’s just the way it is. The way it’s always been.

After that first night, after Sarah, Joel knows a part of him disappeared. He knows he scared the shit out of his brother, forced him into the protector position that has always run thickly in Joel’s blood. It was close, too close, on multiple occasions, Joel too buried in his grief to see what was coming and Tommy too distracted by Joel to react quickly enough. But they managed, they stayed alive.

They got to Boston. Too much blood on their hands, but they made it. And Tommy’s right: Joel promised. He promised no more.

But then there you were. There you are.

I’m protecting my family.

The look in Tommy’s eye, as you all walked away from the fight, it still sits in the back of Joel’s mind, weeks later. He’s always felt like he could trust his brother, that he could trust him to keep his secrets, have his back. Have your back.

And for the first time in his life, he doubts that. It gnaws at him like a disease, an annoying tug in his stomach that twitches to life every time he crosses paths with his brother.

Tommy starts ditching jobs. The lists of repairs are usually doled out early in the morning, and they’ll look them over together, pick out the ones that can be done solo, which need an extra set of hands. Tommy meets him in the morning, but by the afternoon, his brother is nowhere to be found, and Joel ends up picking up the slack himself. It reminds him oddly of the old days, when Tommy was fresh off of Desert Storm, when he claimed he just needed to keep his hands busy, but would bail on Joel halfway through the day, slinking off to some bar or another.

Three times in the same week, Joel heads for a repair they’ve agreed to do together, and Tommy never shows. He asks Tess about it, hoping she might have some insight, but she’s just as confused. “He leaves at morning curfew, and he’s home by evening curfew. I don’t know what he does; he doesn’t tell me. I always assume he’s with you.”

On the fourth no-show, Joel has had it. He ditches his own repair, promising to come back and fix the creaky floorboard first thing in the morning, and heads into the city. Dark clouds loom overhead, the threat of summer rain as he loops up and down the streets, searching the few crowds that linger along the sidewalks.

The Fireflies have been quiet since that first ambush, but Joel’s heard a thing or two on the radio. He knows a few of the buildings that have been tagged as hideouts, caches and the like. He stalks past them all, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible.

But when he sees Tommy slinking out of the building on the corner of Stillman and Cross, he can’t keep his cool.

His brother hasn’t seen him, and shouts with surprise when Joel grabs him by the collar, hauls him into the nearest alleyway and shoves him against the bricks. “Jesus fuckin’ christ, Joel!”

“What the fuck are you doing, Tommy?” Joel sneers, anger flaring in his gut. “Did you tell them?”

“The fuck is wrong with you? You want us both thrown in lockup?” Tommy grits back, and as the rumble of a FEDRA truck grows closer, Joel releases him, takes a step back, puts a foot of space between them. “You can relax, big brother. I didn’t tell them about your girl.”

“My girl?” Joel repeats, brow creasing. “She’s my wife, Tommy. The fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’re telling me you don’t feel the least bit guilty for what we did to those people? How can you be okay letting Liv walk around here, knowing she—”

He never gets the rest of the sentence out. Joel throws a punch, feels the crunch of his brother’s nose against his knuckles. Tommy decked him once, decades ago, when they were teenagers. They’d gone after the same girl without the other knowing, and when Joel came home pleased as a peach, Tommy was less than impressed when he found out why. Joel had a black eye for a week.

He stalks from the alley the moment Tommy’s back upright, clutching his face. Joel’s knuckles sing with pain, and he heads straight for your apartment before he can do any more damage.

+

Joel glares at you. “Your spaghetti is not a cure-all, baby. It’s not gonna fix this.”

You huff, tying off the gauze around his knuckles. “Sure it is. When’s the last time we had family dinner, anyway?” Joel opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to the punch. “Too long. Everything has been too tense since everything…happened, and we need something good, Joel. All of us.”

He lifts his brow, pulling his bruised hand out of your grip to reach forward, tugging the chain from where it’s hidden in your shirt, poking his finger through your ring. “Us getting married wasn’t good enough for you?”

You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head, but kiss him anyway, nails scratched through the hair at his temples. It’s the best feeling in the world. “You know what I mean.” He tries to chase your lips for a deeper kiss, but you pull away before he can, pushing back your chair and starting to collect the first aid supplies from the table. Joel watches the sway of your hips as you take it to the bathroom, reappearing a moment later. “Besides, it’s too late; I cornered Tommy this morning and he already agreed, Tess too.”

Joel heaves a sigh. “You’re a menace.”

Your mouth splits in a grin. “And you love me anyway.”

It’s been a few days, since he cornered Tommy outside the Firefly building. As far as he knows, his brother hasn’t skipped out on a job since, but he’s steered clear of Joel, which is just as well. It’s taken a few days for Joel’s temper to settle.

You weren’t exactly impressed with him, when he got home that night. You’ve relaxed some, gone out for a few gigs with Tess, still hesitant to be apart from Joel, but more comfortable than he’s seen you since the car bombs. His knuckles were split, a deep throbbing in his fist, and you’d scowled at him, ordered him to sit at the table while you found something to clean the blood with. And that was before he told you what had happened.

“Fuck, Joel,” you’d nearly shouted, leaning back in your chair, visibly exasperated. “He was never supposed to find out. No one was supposed to find out.”

“I know, baby,” he said, and reached for you with his good hand, curled it around your knee. “I don’t think he’ll—”

“Maybe I should turn myself in,” you said, and Joel felt like the world had dropped out from under him. His chest went tight, suddenly a thousand pounds. His vision is blurry around the edges, breath hitched in his throat, and he nearly topples out of the chair. “Joel?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt panic like that, not at first. But then it barrelled into him like a freight train, left him reeling as you slid off your chair and onto your knees in front of him. You were talking, calling his name, grabbing his face, but his mind was somewhere else.

It’s not the same sort of panic, but it’s similar. Similar to the racing heart and short breaths he felt that night, similar to the helplessness he felt when that soldier cornered them, rained hell, took the one thing Joel had left, ripped it away like it was nothing. Left him empty, barely a shell of what he was.

Just a shell of a man with a broken watch he still can’t seem to take off.

Turn myself in.

What would FEDRA do to you? Haul you off to some facility, take your blood and test you like some kind of animal? What if he never saw you again?

What if it killed you?

He couldn’t—

“Joel,” you’d nearly yelled, surging upwards and wrapping your arms around his neck. His nose found your neck, your pulse thumping against his forehead, and the familiar scent of you eased him some. “You’re scaring me. Come back. I’m right here, okay? I’m not…” You trailed off, your voice thick as he slide his arms around your waist and held you closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Since that day, you’ve been watching him as closely as he’d been watching his brother, no subtlety whatsoever, not that Joel minds. He’s always liked the feel of your eyes on him.

Now, you push a hand through your hair, wrinkling your nose. “I seriously need a hair wash before they show up. Start the pasta, would you? Stupid flourless crap takes forever to cook.”

Joel chuckles. “Okay, baby.”

There’s a knock at the door ten minutes later, and Joel hopes it’s Tess, knowing full well he’s not quite ready to be alone with his brother again. His knuckles ache just with the thought.

But sure enough, Tommy’s on the other side of the door.

“We need to talk,” his brother says by way of greeting, pushing past Joel into the apartment. “Where’s Liv?”

“She’s in the—” Joel starts to answer, but Tommy cuts him off.

“We have to give her to the Fireflies, Joel. We have to.”

Joel’s chest goes tight again, the same way it had when you mentioned turning yourself in. You meant FEDRA, Tommy means the Fireflies. His head is spinning. “Tommy—”

“I’ve been talking to their leader, this woman Marlene? Joel, they have facilities out West, doctors and labs and people who are working on a cure. Liv could be the answer to all of it, Joel. Just like the Hartford people said: she could save everyone.”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Joel grumble, shaking his head. His heartbeat is in his ears, nearly drowning out his brother’s words, almost twice as loud in his bad ear. “Just don’t—”

“We could fix this, Joel. If we give her to Marlene, she can take her to the facility. I’m sure she’d let you go with her, if you would just talk to Liv, both of you talk to Marlene, we could—”

“Shut up, Tommy!” Joel roars, and his brother’s eyes go wide as he stumbles back a step. “I’m not talking to any fuckin’ Fireflies, and no one is takin’ my Liv anywhere, you understand me? I won’t…I won’t put her at risk, Tommy, not again!”

Tommy stares at him for a long moment, and for a second, Joel thinks he’s said enough, that his brother won’t cross the line again, that he won’t try to push any harder.

But he’s wrong.

“She could be the answer to everything, Joel. Everything. They could make all of this go away.”

“Or they could kill her,” Joel spits, hands curled into fists at his sides. His chest hurts. “And I will die before I let that happen.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“Don’t say another word, Tommy, I swear. I hit you once, and goddamnit, I’ll do it again.”

“Joel—”

“Tommy, I said don’t!”

Wordlessly, Tommy points over his shoulder, and Joel spins to see you standing there, your eyes big and watery, arms crossed, hands gripping your biceps. This time, it’s you that calls his name, and Joel all but runs to you, puts himself in front of you, protecting you.

He knows what’s coming; it’s like he feels the words before they’re out of his mouth, twisting around his heart all over again. His body reacts before his brain does. “Maybe I should go, Joel. Maybe this could be g—”

He can’t hold back the tears. His body won’t let him. They pour down his cheeks, close his throat, his words stuttered out as he grabs for you, his knees giving out beneath him. You try to grab him before he hits the floor, but you’re too late, his body thudding to the floor, falling against you as he goes. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. “I won’t lose you,” he rasps out, and it takes him a moment to realize his face is pressed against your stomach, one hand finding your waist, the other curled in the back of your shirt. “Please, Liv. Don’t—I can’t. Please.”

+

You can feel his tears soaking the fabric of your shirt, hot on his cheeks. You’ve seen Joel cry before, but never like this. Never so heavily, the emotion so thick it’s literally brought him to his knees before you. He’s gripping you like a lifeline, his face buried in your stomach, and you rest one hand on his head, slide his hair between your knuckles. You want to curl yourself around him, protect him the way he’s always trying to protect you.

And on the other side of the kitchen, Tommy just stares at the pair of you. Every emotion known to man crosses his face; guilty, sadness, anger, all of the things that have become commonplace in this new world. You can’t blame him for any of them, you feel half of them yourself.

But then Tommy opens his mouth. “Liv, if you would just—”

“Please, Tommy,” you say, your tone heavy, tears sparking in the back of your throat. “Please don’t.”

He turns on his heel and heads for the door. When he yanks it open, your breath hitches when you see Tess standing on the other side of the door, obviously confused. Tommy says nothing, pushing past her and disappearing down the hallway. “What the fuck?”

At the sound of Tess’s voice, Joel all but leaps to his feet, peeling himself away from you and bee-lining for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. It suddenly smells like something’s burning, and you curse under your breath as the pot on the stove bubbles over.

Tess closes the door quietly, walks towards you, puts a careful hand on your arm, places a bottle of whiskey on the counter. “So much for family dinner.”

You scoff out a laugh as you flick off the stove, kicking your boot into the dented bottom drawer as you drop the pot of ruined pasta into the sink. Shoving a hand through your hair, you sigh, reaching for the bottle. “You’re telling me.”

“You gonna tell me what the fuck just happened,” Tess asks, leaning against the counter beside you, holding her hand out for the bottle as you take a big swig, “or do I have to guess?”

“I caught the tail-end of that conversation,” you say, guilt twisting your stomach as the lie rolls all too easily off your tongue, “but from what I gathered, Tommy’s joining the Fireflies.”

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

[steddiealltheway]

WIP Wednesday

pretend this isn't the fourth thing i've posted in the past like... two hours

but this is so cool! Thank you @zerokrox-blog for tagging me!

So this is a Soulmate AU that has been in my head for YEARS, and I've finally started writing it down so... here's the first chapter or maybe only part of it? I'm not sure yet. But here it is :)

A few weeks earlier… 

Steve sprints to the window, unlatching it easily and jumping through just to tuck and roll onto the soft carpet of Robin’s bedroom. 

“What the-” Robin starts to yell until she catches sight of Steve who holds a finger to his lips. He signals for her to close the windows and curtains quickly while he lays on the ground wiping the rain water mixed with blood out of his eyes. 

Robin quietly freaks out as she locks the window and pulls the curtain tight. She flicks on a lamp then digs under her bed for a first aid kit that makes Steve want to squirm away, but he can’t deny the need for some type of treatment for his wounds. As she’s carefully putting bandaids on what he assumes to be a large cut on his forehead, she whispers out, “What the hell happened?” 

Steve breathes out and does a quick assessment of himself. Nothing appears to be broken at the moment, but his vision is slightly swimming as the adrenaline wears off. He lets his eyes close as he leans into Robin. “Turns out I’m going to college with you after all.” 

He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that she’s giving him a weird look, but he opens them to let her know he’s serious about this. “Robin, promise to never call me ‘Steve’ again, okay?” 

Robin freezes and lets her hand fall from where it was smoothing out a bandaid. “What?” 

“Please,” Steve pleads and looks around frantically. “Call me… call me…” his head is pounding and his stomach slightly churns, so he relies on the last thing he saw, a name too unique to belong to any soul, “Call me Keys.” 

“Okay… Keys,” Robin says testing out the name as Steve’s eyes lull shut. “Now tell me everything.” 

Now 

Moving in sucks. Well, moving Robin in sucks. Steve had told her that she didn’t need to pack her entire room, but she insisted, “Keys, I will not be returning home after my first twenty-four hours away from it! And maybe I’ll need the whistle I got in elementary school! You never know.” 

Steve just sighs and hefts up yet another box from his car, carefully glancing around for anyone familiar before heading up to Robin’s dorm. He curses the broken elevator but realizes it likely wouldn’t have been much help since everyone else is moving in at the same time. He swerves just at the last second as some hyper dude with long hair runs down the stairs past him and Robin. For some reason, he feels a weird draw to them, but they probably just remind him of Dustin who he would’ve yelled at to slow the hell down. He misses that kid. 

Steve huffs as he makes his way to the third story of the building and spots the door to Robin’s room slightly ajar. Robin shoots him a look and they rush over to it only to slow down as they approach. Steve sets down the box and riffles through it settling on grabbing a random plaque from... “Your fourth-grade spelling bee, really?” 

“It’s one of my greatest accomplishments!” Robin whisper yells at him and nudges his shoulder. 

Steve rolls his eyes but takes the plaque and holds it up. He holds up his hand signaling three... two... one... 

Steve shoves the door open and yells as a blonde girl starts to scream. Steve quickly realizes his mistake and puts the plaque down on a nearby table and holds his hands up. “Woah! Oh, shit. Sorry. You must be Robin’s roommate. I’m Steve,” he introduces himself cautiously holding his hand out. 

Only, the girl doesn’t take it. Instead, she seems frozen as she glances over Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve’s hand drops and he looks over his shoulder to see what's happening but he’s only met with the sight of Robin staring longingly at the other girl. Steve looks back at the girl and sees it. “You must be Chrissy,” Steve breathes out. 

The girl nods slightly, and happiness alongside jealousy churns in Steve’s stomach. “Well, it’s been great meeting you. And I’ll just... see myself out. Robin, we can get the rest of your stuff later. I’m just going to head to my dorm.” 

Robin slightly nods, mirroring Chrissy’s same nod from earlier, and Steve is almost positive that neither of them are getting any of what he’s saying. Damn soulmates. 

Steve heaves Robin’s box through the doorway and lightly shoves her in before closing the behind her. This is certainly not how he wanted his college experience to start. 

He rushes down the stairs and tries not to think too hard about the whole Robin finding her soulmate thing. Like, yes, it’s great. He’s glad she has the perfect roommate and a soulmate who clearly just by first looks is crazy about her. But this means... fuck. 

Steve might be abandoned. He knows it’s unlike Robin, but he’s heard the soulmate stories. Christ, they’re literally a person’s other half, so of course they’re going to want to spend all their time with them which leaves Steve... alone. Or awkwardly third wheeling, but the sight of happy couples makes him irrationally angry. 

Well, with everything, Robin says that he should be reasonably angry about the whole soulmate thing, but... 

Steve shakes his head as he climbs into his car and watches that same long-haired boy heave a box up towards the building. Eddie. A voice in his head unhelpfully supplies, and Steve shakes it away because that would be impossible. 

He forces himself to tear his eyes away and look at the campus map. Sadly, he and Robin aren’t living in the same residence hall, but the buildings should be about a five-minute walk away. He spots his building and takes a deep breath as he thinks about dealing with parking. Luckily, he only has about one trip worth of things with him. 

He finds parking and curses under his breath as he rechecks his dorm number and pockets the key they gave him a few hours earlier. He pushes around the few boxes Robin has left so he can get out his one box and old backpack. Hopefully his roommate doesn’t judge him too much. 

The trek to the building isn’t horrible from the parking lot, but Steve is definitely thankful that he lives on the first floor. 

He finds his room fairly easily and digs his key out of his pocket so he can unlock the door. He sighs when he finds it’s already unlocked and prepares to meet his roommate. He tries to appear pleasant as possible and even tightly smiles as he enters the room. Half of it is filled with weird shit like posters and drawings that Steve thinks that Dustin would like. And he’s definitely gotta ask why the hell he has a giant sign that says “Corroded Coffin.” He whistles low when he spots the guitar propped in the corner of the room. He knows nothing about instruments, but he can tell it’s well taken care of. 

The only thing that he finds odd is the lack of a roommate in the room, but maybe he’s in the bathroom or something. 

Steve doesn’t think too hard about it because he’s filled with relief of finally being alone so he can breathe. It’s not that he isn’t a social person it’s just... he needs time to process the whole Chrissy and Robin thing. More than anything he wants to rant to someone about it, but his options of ranting are: Robin. 

But there’s probably a landline in the common area and definitely pay phones nearby so he can call Dustin eventually. 

He tugs at the leather band around his right wrist for a few minutes as he thinks before realizing the anxious tick and trying to stop. He needs Robin to go back to flicking him in the head every time he does it. Soulmarks don’t like being suffocated he guesses. 

He unpacks the few things he has, stuffing the few pairs of clothes he has in the supplied dresser and slipping sheets over his mattress and making up the thin comforter (curtesy of Robin’s mom) and pillow (also Robin’s mom) to make the place look somewhat like a home. He gets a framed picture of him and Robin out of his box and puts it on his desk lastly before turning around and walking towards his door. 

He stops and takes a breath before turning around and taking in his sad display of a room, but he can’t help but smile. Nothing can be worse than his room from a few weeks ago. 

All the sudden, the door swings open and collides with Steve’s back causing him to stumble forward and curse. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were...” the man trails off as Steve turns around. 

It’s the same long-haired guy he saw before, but close up he’s absolutely... 

Eddie. Soulmate. 

Steve’s entire being feels drawn to him, and it’s like he understands what all the soulmates mean when they say as soon as they saw them they just knew. And it feels so right. He’s somehow everything that Steve had always dreamed of since he first got his mark, and nothing at all like what he expected. He’s about to finally say that it’s him, it’s Steve, when he finally shakes himself out of it. 

No, it’s not him. It’s not possible. He’s already met Eddie. 

So, Steve sticks his hand out and says, “I’m Keys.” 

And something about his name must falter whatever is going on in the man’s head as he reaches out and replies, “Kas. Uh, you must be my s- roommate.” 

Steve smiles tightly as the label doesn’t rest well with him. He shakes his hand and can’t help but notice the way his hand feels right in his, but he’s also wearing a band around his wrist that kind of jostles with Steve’s and it feels so wrong like he needs to pry them both off- 

“My roommate who I just hit with the door. Shit, I’m sorry, man, I just got some crazy news that my best friend found her soulmate. At least, I think that’s what I was witnessing because she was just making out with this other girl, and I don’t know, I just kind of ran like hell. And I wasn’t thinking and bam hit you with the door,” Kas rambles out and it’s overwhelmingly endearing to Steve especially when he pulls his hair in front of his face and continues, “Sorry, man, I’m just kind of freaking out.” 

And Steve knows exactly what he means. “I can’t blame you. I just had the same sort of shit happen. My best friend just found her soulmate, and I’m at a loss. I know I should feel happy for her, but I can’t help but think I’m going to be abandoned or some shit.” Steve stops and wonders why the hell he’s talking so much and basically spewing his soul to a stranger. “Sorry,” Steve apologizes and shakes his head, “I don’t usually open up so easily.” 

“Neither do I, but that’s just because I have to keep up my dark and mysterious persona,” Kas says with a bright smile as he raises his hands and wiggles his fingers. 

Steve can’t help but laugh. 

Kas’s smile falls, but more in a dramatic way than a hurt way. “What? Do you not think I’m all dark and mysterious?” 

This makes Steve laugh even harder. He has no idea how this man with the energy of a hyper puppy and the biggest brown doe eyes he’s ever seen has ever appeared threatening or rather “dark and mysterious.” 

Kas sighs and frowns at him, but that just further drives home the point. Steve can’t help but try to stifle his laughter and reply as seriously as he can, “Oh, you’re dark and mysterious alright.” 

Kas lightly shoves him as a blush comes to his cheeks, and Steve doesn’t remember ever feeling so connected to someone as soon as he met them. He can’t help but think that Kas is thinking the same thing as they stare at each other, both smiling as something like hope stirs in Steve. 

He wishes more than anything that soulmates didn’t exist. 

“Hey, Kas!” 

“Keys!” 

Kas and Steve jump back as they stare at the two girls in their doorway who glance back at each other. “No way,” Robin and Chrissy both say together and laugh. 

It takes Steve a moment longer than everyone, but then he’s looking at Kas with wide eyes as he realizes how cruel and kind the universe really is. 

#steddie #steddie wip #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #soulmate au

[roguishcat]

Conversations with a vampire - part 3/10

A/N: I'm still getting used to how Tumblr works, but if you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment. :)

Summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Rating: Teen. Mild language, mentions of abuse in later chapters, some violence.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

When Astarion opened the door to the upstairs room of the tavern, the child was already there. Tav beamed as she saw him walk in and waved him over. Astarion walked to one of the beds, making a point of ignoring her enthusiasm.

How did she even know that he would be here?

Astarion sat down on the bed and opened the book he found on the counter earlier that evening, making it clear that he was not here to entertain her. Surprisingly, Tav did not try to speak to him, although she seemed itching to say something.  couldn’t possibly be anything interesting, probably just typical chatter about nothing and everything. And he did not feel like making small talk in general and now in particular.

Cazador would most certainly be displeased that he did not return to the palace, so Astarion was determined to enjoy whatever fragile semblance of normality he could find. That is, indulging in some reading. Astarion did not look up, allowing time to pass leisurely, not at all bothered by silence that seemed strenuous for Tav.

Tav huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t sure what she did to deserve the silent treatment, but he definitely wasn’t speaking to her first. And Tav wasn’t really sure how to start their conversation today.

Astarion reminded her a bit of the stray cats she would sometimes try to befriend. And just like the cats, who hissed and spat no matter how much she cooed and offered them treats, Astarion made a point to show that he would rather be left alone.

She was always a complete delight, if she said so herself, and she gave Astarion the potions each time they ran into each other, but his eyes would narrow in suspicion as a frown would tug at his lips. Each time, he would stare at her and her offerings in skepticism. It was very obvious that he did not trust her. Although maybe he did not trust anyone at all. She did not care much about his reasons, it just she was so bored, and he seemed so interesting.

Today was the first time she saw him in daylight. Or dim tavern light, as they were indoors. Both were reading books, Astarion lounging on a bed whilst Tav propped herself up against a wall opposite him. Tav wasn’t really reading, which was quite obvious as the last time she turned a page was about 30 pages ago for him. She was looking at him discretely under long, light lashes. Well, in a way that Tav thought was discrete, to Astarion her admiration could not be more obvious. But it kept her quiet for now, so he decided to allow it. In a way, her artless childish curiosity did not bother him, unlike the usual leering stares he was on the receiving end of.

Tav’s blue eyes traced the contours of his face, the way he moved his hand across the pages of the book, the way his eyes would widen or narrow just a fraction from time to time. It was the first time she saw him so relaxed. Usually, he would be out working the crowd and flirting in a tavern or glaring at her in annoyance.

He could stay so still, almost as if he wasn’t breathing at all, at least she could not make out the rise and fall of his chest. Maybe this was a rogue skill? She tried imitating him, holding her breath until it was painful, then taking a few greedy, gasping breaths.

Astarion was still reading.

“You know, I really hate my lessons,” she finally gave up trying to be quiet and shut the book she was meant to be reading – ‘Grand Estates. The fifty nifty tricks to effortless magnificence’. “Especially learning spells. It’s so boring and tiring. I’m terrible at magic and my teacher could definitely be in the running for the dullest award. Why can’t I just use something enthused with magic?”

“And what happens if someone takes all your things and rings and finery?” Astarion replied without looking up. “You would be dead in seconds.”

“I just feel so dumb! The wizard that comes in to teach me just drones on and on, so I just say I get it to make him shut up,” she whined. “I like knives and daggers. I’m not too bad at picking locks too.”

“Well, I doubt that whatever your family has in mind for you is remotely related to petty theft.”

“I’ve never met my family.”

Astarion said nothing to that revelation, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

Today Tav was dressed in a light lilac coat and trousers set with delicate flowers embroidered along the hems. Another fine set of clothes that she did not mind getting dirty by sitting on the less-than-clean floor. Her hair was carefully combed and arranged with silver clips. For a child who claimed to be abandoned, she looked incredibly well-looked-after.

“Let’s say that I believe you,” he drawled, for once interested in what she had to say, but not wanting it to show. “Am I to understand that you are supposed to be a poor orphan without a place to stay?”

“Well obviously I have a place to live, don’t be silly.”

Tav paused, her fingers playing with the hem of her coat as she bit her bottom lip nervously.

“I live in Sharess’ Caress.”

“Ha! Well, at least now I understand where those comments about prostitutes came from!” he laughed, remembering how scandalized he was to hear that coming from one so young. “Although,” Astarion frowned, “I didn’t think that they would have a child in such an establishment.”

Her guardians, whoever they were, must have had a very twisted sense of humour or complete disregard for the girl. Because he couldn’t imagine what her parents would have to be like to choose to insert a child into that kind of environment.

Tav scoffed and rolled her eyes, a gesture that she seemed to be using more and more. Must be reaching that annoying age that everyone complains about. Yet another reason why children were the worst.

“Well, obviously I don’t just go into the main building where everyone is entertained.  I have a separate entrance protected by a magic barrier, no one would be able to find or go into my room unless Mamzell Amira actually brought them inside. And I have something on me that transports me directly to the room, so… it’s pretty safe, I guess?”

She pulled her trouser leg up slightly, revealing a shimmering silvery band around her right ankle. “This also means I can’t wander far; I will just be transported straight to my room.”

So she was tethered to the place, which explained why he would never see her in the Lower City.

“I don’t know where all the money, clothes and books come from. Or whom I belong to. I’m not even allowed to know my name.”

Call me Tav, she said.

“I can’t complain,” she went on, looking down at her shoes. “I’m treated very well. Better than I deserve to be treated. I am not easy to have around. But.. I don’t have anything or anyone I can call my own.”

“Oh, come now,” Astarion felt an uncharacteristic urge to say something in reply, “It could be worse. You have all these lovely things, all those magic trinkets you like, the money to buy more with.”

“Yes. But I don’t even know what I look like!” she protested, the book in her lap falling onto the floor. She wasn’t speaking particularly loudly, but what she lacked in volume she made up in intensity. “This isn’t what I really look like. I don’t know what is my real eye colour, or if I am really a half-elf, anything really,” her voice cracked, and she took a deep, steadying breath.

Astarion gave her his full undivided attention. Family, heritage, they were building blocks of a person. She was like a castle built on sand. Such unreliable, fickle foundation. How peculiar. A child who seems to want for nothing wants nothing more than to know herself. She wasn’t simply careless, as he previously thought. Her recklessness, wildness even, made so much more sense now.

“I’m sorry,” he said because this was probably what needed to be said at a moment like this.

“No, you are not. But that’s okay,” she looked down at her hands. “I know that sometimes you just have to wait. Wait till the day that they will be sorry. Sorry for doing this to me,” she looked straight at him, as if daring him to say otherwise.

The look in her eyes changed. Her whole demeanor changed. The tilt of her chin, the straightening of her back. This was a child walking the thin line between good and evil, precariously balancing between what she wanted to be and what the world would mould her into. Even a gentle gust could push her off the precipice. He wondered what would that moment be, the life-changing event that would forever wipe the sweetness from her eyes. Because if he knew this cruel world, and he definitely knew the full extent of its wickedness, this sweetness would not last.

A moment passed, then another. Tav took a deep breath and gave a little smile. “Wanna hear a joke?”

“What did a tailor say when he ran out of thread? It’s sew over. Get it?”

“What?” Astarion blinked.

Apparently that meant that he agreed, because she seemed to forget all about her melancholy mood in favour of telling him the most awful, tired and aggravating jokes.

“This is terrible,” Astarion said sincerely. Child or not, puns and dad jokes were inexcusable.

“But I-”

“Wait, I’ve got another one! This one is good.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“No,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Tav pouted playfully and stood up on slightly shaking legs. “Ouch, pins and needles. Ouch, ouch,” she muttered under her breath. “I think I’m gonna go, here is your potion. I still have dance and can’t remember what else today. Probably going to get an earful for playing hooky.”

*****

After she left, it was suddenly too quiet. Which is exactly what he wanted, of course. To be left alone in peace and quiet to enjoy a rare moment of respite. But not having someone talking his ear off gave him space to let his mind wander. Astarion thought about what his own childhood was like. He could hardly remember anything after the night he was turned. Just bare bones of his life, no emotions, no faces from the past. He had been a magistrate. His ruling against a Gur had been his undoing. Cazador was his salvation turned nightmare.

Sometimes he wondered what happened to his family, colleagues, lovers. Were any of them still alive? Did they search for him once he disappeared? Did they think of him? And if they did, what emotions did those thoughts inspire? Tenderness, want, hatred?

The air was changing as nighttime approached, he could sense the shadows envelop the city in their embrace. It was almost time for his hunt. Perhaps in a different part of the city today, it’s been a while since he visited the Blushing Mermaid.

As he rose from the bed, Astarion noticed that Tav left her book behind, her handkerchief bookmarking the place she was supposedly reading. He lifted the cloth square. It was of fine quality, but quite bare, surprisingly without any embellishments.

He pocketed it.

Perhaps he would give it back next time he saw her.  Because judging by how stubbornly she sought him out, there would be a next time.

@ayselluna

#astarion tav fanfiction #fanfic #astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction

[bisexualiteaa]

A Dance with the Devil

Pt. 4 final part!

CW: SMUT 18+ content ahead MINORS DO JOT INTERACT!

A/N: I despise that I write so much and that word limits exist that make it hard to post a full story 😭 but here we are! The final part! Hope you all enjoy!

You leaned your head back with a moan, your arms looped around his neck as you bounced up and down on his dick. The delicious feeling of him stretching you as every pleasurable ridge on his cock slid against your walls. Your wings fluttered slightly as his tip bullied your cervix, your hands resting on his shoulders and sometimes slipping down to his chest as his rested on your hips. “How lovely you feel, as if you were made perfectly for me” he spoke, one of his hands holding your hip, helping to guide your rhythm as the other toyed with one of your breasts. You moaned as his lips captured one of your sensitive nipples, tongue circling the bud followed by sucking and the occasional nip, whilst his fingers rolled, tugged and massaged the other side. Your eyes were shut fingers tangling into his hair but not too much to ruin it, just enough to express your gratitude and pleasure. Waves of pleasure ran through you as you listened to him groan into your skin. “Feels so good, so deep…” you panted, hearing him switch treatments, coming off of you with an audible pop and leaving a plethora of territorial hickies in his wake. You yelped but your movements grew needier as he bit down on your supple skin and toyed with your other breast. “Such a sensitive little thing you are, so needy” he teased, making you whimper pathetically. “Only for you, love- oh!” You moaned as your sharp nails dug into his back, making him groan in delight at the way your walls hugged him and your desperate need for him.

You steadily approached your end, still quite sensitive after the last orgasm. “Raphael…so close, please…” you moaned, making him grin against your skin. “What is it you need? Use your words, little mouse” he spoke. “Want to cum with you, I’m so close, can I please?” You asked sweetly, and gods how could he ever say no when you ask like that? “Good girl, bring us there” he replied, making you nod your head as you continued, bouncing yourself up and down on him. He chuckled at the way your hole tightened around him at his praise, continuing to squeeze your ass as he marked up your neck and chest while you worked yourself and Raphael to your release.

You pressed your forehead to his sweetly, avoiding getting your horns caught in his as you both sat catching your breath, basking in the afterglow with one another. You gave a pleased hum as your hands cupped his face, kissing him softly and sweetly as he painted your insides with his cum. You moved up and down slowly and gently while his hands gripped your hips, helping you both ride out your highs. You gave a soft moan at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you before halting your movements. You pulled away, littering his neck and chest with soft kisses as your body felt light and you finally felt sated. “You did so good for me, little mouse” he praised, making you smile at him as his fingers ran through your hair. This was the softest he’s ever been with you, and you wished it could always be like this, but you were happy you could be honored with his soft side even this once. “I’ve had many a lover in my days, but you my love, you make me feel things no mortal or devil alike ever has before” he spoke, making you cradle his cheek in your hand, wishing to help him feel as appreciated as he made you feel. “I don’t know what spell you’ve managed to put me under, but I care for you greatly. In ways that I have never cared for another before” he added, making you give a breathy laugh as his hand came up to meet yours, turning and kissing it as you did to him earlier. “I assure you it is no spell. I love you, Raphael. And while I know your position as archdevil supreme means you won’t always be allowed to show it, I’m happy to know it in private. I meant it when I said I am honored to be yours” you said, making him hum at your words as he kissed you softly once more. “Perhaps I will move all of my appointments for the day, and take part in my wife like on the night of our honeymoon” he said, making you giggle. “I wouldn’t dream of pulling you from your work, dear. But…I’d gladly be a happy distraction for you to partake in between appointments should you need it” you said with a grin, making him laugh before kissing you once more. “Perhaps I shall hold you to that, but for now, here is where I wish to stay for the next hour” he replied, making you smile. “Then an hour with me you shall be granted” you responded as he held you close, his lips connecting with yours once again as the next hour passed getting lost within one another once more. His appointments could wait he was the archdevil supreme after all, should a single soul dare to complain, they would have hell to pay.

#bg3 smut #bg3 tav #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael smut #raphael x reader #raphael

[millionsvash]

Gimme some Legato headcanons. General, platonic, romantic, go nuts. Word vomit I just want Gato appreciation I love him he's me fr-

Of course! Since I'm on about half way through trimax I had to enlist the help of two dedicated Legato stans. So say thank you to @meryls-gf and @abject-indulgence for letting me use some of their ideas for this! If you're interested in more Legato content, I suggest reaching out for them.

About: Legato Bluesummeres Generalized HeadcanonsCW: None! Taglist (Ask to be added/removed!): @sortatiredartist, @vashfantasy, @fruitsoxs, @millionmix Reblogs > Likes 💕

Pizza is his favorite food. His favorite toppings are onions and mushrooms. Sometimes, to be a dickhead to everyone, he’ll order sardines and pick them off, knowing he’s happy to eat them while everyone else is too grossed out to even try.

Legato has broken over 200 stress balls. At least 150 of those were because of something Vash did.

When handholding, he often does the one-finger hand hold, where he wraps his pointer finger around yours. He will also say nothing when he does it.

Knives was the first person to give Legato a haircut. He used his little knife fingers to do it. Bangs are, uh…a little sloppy, but it was a meaningful moment for him.

He has a low tolerance for extreme temperatures (ironic considering the planet they live on). He’s too stubborn to admit he’s getting too hot and won’t ask for help, so he’s prone to getting pissy and having fainting spells.

In addition to that, he tried to have an all black fit at first, but that just made his heat intolerance worse.

He will rarely initiate touch unless he’s drunk. If you try to touch him when he’s sober, he’ll glare at you.

Specific to his relationship with Knives, exactly in Achi’s words: Listen, I just think Knives is all like precious, precious baby," until legato says something like ugh, Vash was so mean to me today :(" and then Knives has to take 3 deep breaths and stand in the corner.

Legato will one up you in everything if he’s your friend. You say you can handle 10 beers? He’ll do 11. You talk about a long walk you had? He’s had a longer one. He’s just going to one-up you in everything. 

In Miller’s exact words, again specific to his relationship with Knives, "Knives initially actually treated Legato more like a person than anybody else in Legato's life up until that point. While I don't imagine that his treatment of Legato was necessarily soft in the way that most of us would conceptualize it, I do think it's likely that, in his own very weird fashion, he did show Legato favor and earn that loyalty."

#trigun #trigun x reader #trigun fanfic #trigun headcanons #millions knives #legato x reader #legato trigun #Legato x You #legato bluesummers #Legato headcanons #breakfast is served!

[pixelmensupremacy]

Could you do a re2 cop Leon x an EMT male reader? I hope you’re still doing requests!

A/N: I took my sweet time writing this, fro which I deeply apologize. Also I haven't written any man x man dynamic since middle school and I tried my best!

Word count: almost 1.3k

WARNINGS: male!reader, mentions of wounds and blood, not proof read

A cacophony of bright red and blue hues flashed in erratic manner, throwing rays of light in the darkest, loneliest hours of the night akin to a beacon of light, yet not one of hope but rather one that frightened the distressed souls further. The unsettling melody of the sirens echoed in his ears; long ago had he gotten used to the unpleasant sound that ironically wasn’t associated with anything positive even if the opposite was its core value. His eyes fluttered closed; silently he bared himself for the worst even though no mental pep talk could’ve prepared him for the things he had witnessed throughout his career as an emergency medical technician- though luckily for him this night that wasn’t the case.

Arriving at the address of the call, (Y/N) was rather pleasantly surprised to see familiar faces. Lieutenant Marvin Branagh along with his new colleague officer Leon Scott Kennedy; an ever so faint smile curled the corners of his lips as he approached the two men with his medical supplies in hand. The few seconds it took him to walk up to the uniformed men seemed prolonged as if someone had put him in slow motion as a form of a twisted game that tested him- and he was giving in. He found himself observing the younger man, no matter how much he fought the urge he couldn’t peel his eyes off of the charming officer. His sandy bangs fell elegantly on the sides of his face, framing it perfectly, his azure eyes glimmered with energy typical to someone who’s hopeful and even naïve, yet that’s what made them captivating, for he saw his younger self in them.

“Good evening.” Immediately (Y/N) anchored the attention to himself. Leon flinched, which lead (Y/N) to think the young officer was startled by his presence though the warm smile that appeared on his face proved that to not be the case.

“Mister (L/N), we’re so glad you came.” Lieutenant Branagh struck his partner with a look of disapproval that went unnoticed by the officer.

“You better have a good reason to disturb my peace on a Friday evening.” The smile on Leon’s face froze as the joy in his features was swapped with guilt in the matter of seconds. Numerous words of apologies rolled off his lips as panic settled within him; (Y/N) couldn’t hold back the smile that curled the corners of his mouth, it made him feel guilty though he couldn’t help but find his pouting expression utterly adorable.

“I’m just messing with you. What’s the problem?”

“I believe my partner may have gotten injured. He could use medical attention.” And with that the Lieutenant left the two men alone; the air seemed to warm up despite the low temperatures of the night. Silently, (Y/N) placed his equipment on a nearby bench and began browsing through the contents of his bag. Leon froze as he watched him sort out the necessary tools, too bewitched by his presence to even care to breathe, yet even if Leon was pass out he would immediately receive medical treatment; he noted how his hands delicately held the bandages and how he carefully placed them near the pale container with rubbing alcohol. Such simple motion was inexplicably captivating to the officer as if had been caught under a spell that had him dumbfounded.

“Please have a seat, officer.” Heat rose to his cheeks, dusting them with soft pink; immediately he obliged and sat on the bench opposite of the medical technician though that wasn’t for long, since he stood up only to kneel before the officer. Without uttering a single word, he took the officer’s hand and began pressing at it with the tips of his fingers from his wrist all the way to the valley where his forearm met his biceps, his fingers wrapped around Leon’s wrist as he folded his arm towards him. Breathlessly, the officer observed (Y/N)’s face; his eyebrows were drawn together, his eyes were slightly squinted. Heat continued to spread throughout Leon’s body under the technician’s touch; it was as if his touch was charged with electricity that struck the officer every time their skins came in contact.

“Tell me where it hurts.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper; Leon hummed a bit too lewdly then he anticipated, earning a confused look from (Y/N). The medical technician felt a rush of adrenaline traveling to his core, though he kept his composure as he went on with examining the charming officer. He took a hold of his calf, his hands slowly glided up his knee, where he gently pressed on the fold of his leg; a soft whimper rolled down Leon’s plump lips.

“Does this cause you discomfort?” The officer shook his head no, his timid azures gazed at the technician through half lidded eyes. (Y/N) fought the ever growing urge to smile at the sight in front of him; Leon’s mouth was agape, allowing for the air to easily flow into his burdened lungs, his lashes fluttered ever so slightly with every move of the technician’s hands.

“On first glance there’s nothing concerning on the outside.” (Y/N) spoke as he stood up, closely followed by Leon’s curious gaze. “Unless you’re hiding something under that armor of yours.” He eyed the navy blue of his uniform, which in return caused the officer’s cheeks to turn a deeper hue of pink. Silently, Leon watched the medical technician carefully, yet quickly packed his equipment; numerous thoughts raced through his mind as he desperately searched for an idea to make him stay just a moment longer until the perfect idea struck him.

“I got another spot that should get examined.” His heart hammered against his chest, for a sudden rush of nervousness washed over him akin to a colossal wave; successfully, he anchored the man’s attention.

“Where?” He rose his brow at the officer. Silently, he pulled at the fabric of his collar, revealing a crimson line trailing across his pale skin. The technician faced the other man and took a closer look at the wound; his fingertips ghosted over the crimson colored flesh, causing Leon to wince. (Y/N) glanced at the man before him, his (E/C) irises searched his azure ones; Leon nodded wordlessly assuring. A rush of blood spread on the sides of the officer’s face as he noted how the medical technician inspected his wound, how his digits delicately worked with the milky white bottle of rubbing alcohol and how his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. Leon hissed through gritted teeth at the sudden sting that forcefully brought him out of his dream like state.

”Forgot to warn you. It’s gonna hurt a little.” He spoke quietly and calmly; his gaze met his for a split moment, worry was woven into his (E/C) irises. Silently, Leon nodded, for he was afraid that if he were to speak he would say something he would regret and instead focused on the warmth of his hand that rested atop the pulsating wound. The sharp pain slowly faded as pleasant warmth took its place, though whether it was from the alcohol or (Y/N)’s strong yet delicate grip on his shoulder Leon couldn’t tell, perhaps it was equal parts from both.

“All done.” (Y/N) stood up, depriving Leon of his electric touch, the officer grew so found of. “I got to admit, you’re very tough.” Heat spread across Leon’s cheeks akin to a wild fire that left behind red trails across the fair plains of his face.

“Is he gonna make it.” Lieutenant Branagh appeared seemingly out of thin air, causing the officer to flinch.

“He’ll be good in no time.” (Y/N) stole a glance at Leon before he faced the lieutenant.

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy x male reader #requests

[whumpslist]

Insider (Insaideo)’s whumps’ list

[referred to main male character: Kim Yo-Han / 2345, portrayed by Kang Ha-neul]

Season 1

.01: fast forward: chased and rough fights; painful memories, knocked out and kidnapped, dental torture (I skipped that, couldn’t stand it), swollen cheek, worried sick and agitated, received upsetting news and grieving, undercover in prison.

.02: mandatory vaccinations in prison, badly beaten up, bloody nose and groaning, ambushed and badly beaten up, in pain, many moaning and bruises all over his body, limping, groaning, grabbed and thrown to the ground, put in solitary confinement, grief and angry, scuffle and upset.

.03: restrained and ankle broken on purpose, painful treatment in infirmary, on crutches, grabbed my his neck, manhandled and pushed to the ground, cast broken with hammer and screaming in pain, kicked and stained dressing, injured ankle squeezed and screaming in pain, almost strangled to death, electrocution and passed out, recovering comsciousness in infirmary, grabbed and restrained, rescued at the very last moment, heavily panting and helped standing up, massaging his injured ankle.

.04: ambushed and rough fights, beaten up, treated in infirmary and shoulder reallocated, many bruises and patches and swollen eye, frustrated, receiving upsetting news and sharply inhaled, nasty confrontation and lost his temper, upset and bloody hands.

.05: nasty confrontation, faking a crying spell, bruised hands, rough awakening in pain, injured his head again on purpose, bloody face and hand, moaning in pain in bed, restrained and almost chocked with plastic bag, rough awakening screaming and heavily panting, receiving upsetting news and sharply inhaled from episode 1.04, retching drinking his "medicine", retching and feeling dizzy, collapsed on the floor and dragging himself, in pain and retching, kicked in the face and knocked out, taken semiconscious in the infirmary and in bad shape (poisoned), IV in his hand, roughly pushed away and groaning in pain, limping, grabbed and squeezed wrist, tied and hanged by his feet, bloody face.

.06: moaning and coughing after being hanged by his feet all night, bloody face and tied, moaning in pain, helped walking, shocked, rough sparring and heavily panting, roughly grabbed by his arm and threatened.

.07: grabbed by his arm, hooded and manhandled, shocked, scuffle twice, chased and heavily panting, scuffle, almost run over by a car, shocked and upset.

.08: sweat and heavily panting after a run, trembling hands, scolded, angst, received upsetting news and moaning, flashbacks and hasn't feeling well, fights, bloody mouth and strangled, handcuffed and received upsetting news, put in solitary confinement, flashbacks and holding his head moaning.

.09: upset, tied up, on his knees and faking a crying spell, crawling on his knees and bloody, handcuffed, emotional memories and tears in his eyes, heavily panting after a physical effort, conflicted.

.10: hit at his head, tired, ambushed and surrounded, rescued at the last minute and heavily panting.

.11: tense, rough fight and repeatedly punched, almost strangled to death and coughing and heavily breathing, bounty over his head and chased, received upsetting news and trapped, heavily breathing and sighing (plus Jang Seon‑oh's whumps).

.12: sighing, nasty confrontation and angry, tears on his cheek, upset and screaming in frustration (plus Jang Seon‑oh's whumps).

.13: arrested, handcuffed and hooded, unpleasant conversations twice.

.14: bounty over his head.

.15: back to episode 1.01: chased and rough fights; heavily panting and bruised face, walked towards his enemy and briwef scuffles, surrended himself, grabbed at his throat and almost chocked, coughing and gasping on the floor, wanted by police, surrended himself and handcuffed.

.16: nasty confrontations twice, angry, painful and nostalgic memories, hooded and kidnapped, handcuffed.

#Insider #Insaideo #K-Drama #whumpslist #episode guide #Kim Yo-Han #Kang Ha-neul