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st1llwthyou · 5 months

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POPPIN’ CHERRY.

fandom ꕀ bts

pairing ꕀ jungkook x f!reader

applicable aus & genre ꕀ roommate au, smut

synopsis ꕀ those were the last words he ever expected to come out of your mouth. but heck, jungkook would be lying if he said that he didn’t fucking love it.

word count ꕀ 2,322

warnings & tags ꕀ language, inexperienced reader, dom/sub dynamics, biting, pet names (fem! – baby, angel etc.), nipple play, dacryphilia, corruption kink (implied), dirty talk, cunnilingus, pussy drunk!jk, fingering — RATED E for explicit content.

notes ꕀ hello! i’m a newbie lskjdikdj and this is my tumblr debut 🫣! i’m so, very nervous and scared, but i hope you enjoy <3!

“You want me to… what?!” Jungkook looks at you wide-eyed, clearly flabbergasted by your proposition. You swallow nervously, hoping with all your might that your little plan works out.

“Make me orgasm… can you not?” You whisper with bated breath. It’s uncertain where your boldness is coming from, but you’ve come a bit too far to back out now.

He shakes his head a few times, getting up from his bed to approach you. “It’s not about if I can or not, ____. Do you not understand how fucking abrupt this is? I’m sort of weirded out, where is this coming from, huh?”

You lean against the door frame to his room, heaving out a sigh. Of course, you know how out of the blue this is, to him. It almost makes you sad that he’s never picked up on any of the hints you’ve dropped before. That you like him.

“I… um, heard you.” You murmur. It won’t hurt to tell a bit of truth.

“... Heard what exactly?” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you, skeptical.

“You… and the girls you bring back sometimes.” That sentence stings to even utter, but you manage somehow.

A sigh escapes his pretty lips. “Fuck… I thought you’d be sleeping. And the walls seem pretty darn thick so I assumed not a lot of noise will travel.”

“I was sleeping, I just… woke up again to the sounds of, y’know…”

A heavy silence falls between you two. You wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. Jungkook just regards you silently, those magnetic pools of honey trailing over your figure with no prominent emotions visible.

“Hey… you can decline, by the way. If it wasn’t clear. I’ll go back and we can just, um, pretend that nothing happened and go back to being normal roommates.” Tears burn in the back of your eyes, but you still try to appear brave and strong in front him.

“I know I can decline. But I’m not sure if I want to.” Jungkook takes a few more steps forward, reaching for you. As his warm, big hand finds your jaw, you lean into the comforting touch instinctively. “You’re so sweet and adorable, I never thought I’d hear those words out of your mouth.”

“Can you just—”

“But I liked it. Say it again.” He disrupts your complaint even before you could start. It takes you a few moments to properly register what he said. But once you do, your whole body thrums from excitement, heartbeat going crazy.

“Mm–make me come, Jungkook.” Your voice is barely audible, but just enough for his blood to rush south. His strong arms wrap around your smaller frame to hoist you up, carrying you to his bed.

“I might just not survive this, fuck.” Jungkook hisses under his breath, gently dropping you on his mattress. He’s over aware of every little thing about you now, from the outline of your pebbled nipples on your pajama, to your glossy eyes that are locked on him.

“Can I call you ‘baby’? And other nicknames?” He enquires hopefully, his hands eagerly exploring your curves. You tremble under his touch, vigorously shaking your head in an assertive manner. Jungkook chuckles.

“Aww, you’re so cute and eager, baby.” He hovers over you, his eyes searching for yours. “You want me to make you come, hm?”

Even though your heart feels like it’ll burst out of your chest, you lock your eyes with him. “Yea… I– I’ve never orgasmed in my life.” Your voice is small, heat rising to your cheeks as you confess, embarrassed. Jungkook leans down to nuzzle your face, dropping a butterfly kiss right beneath your eye.

“Is that so? Not even by yourself?” One of his hands slips beneath your pajama, gently stroking your tummy. He smiles when you nod, his other hand cupping your face. “It’s okay, we can try it out today and see what happens.”

Jungkook is so close, studying you and everything you do — almost enamored by your nuances. “May I kiss you?” He rests his forehead against yours, waiting for your confirmation.

“Yes please.” He doesn’t waste a second, soft lips finding yours in a sweet kiss. The simple touch alone gets you exhilarated, hands gripping onto his t-shirt. He lets his tongue run over your lower lip, making you twitch under him.

That snaps something in Jungkook, his hand firmly grasping your jaw while he coaxes your mouth open to him. You gasp when he teases your tongue with his, taking control of the kiss from the get go. The way he moves his tongue against yours makes you dizzy, strange sensations flooding your body. It feels like he’s unraveling you.

Your little moans and whimpers egg him on, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. Jungkook is feeling partially intoxicated by you, his mind hazy from lust. Although, he pulls away from the mind-numbing kiss a while later to give you some space to breathe. “Fuck,” he curses, enticed by your teary eyes and swollen lips.

It takes you a while to gather yourself, but you soon realize how much effect that single kiss had on you. Your underwear has soaked through with your arousal, uncomfortably sticking to your skin. Your nipples are also rock hard, aching to be touched.

“Jungkook,” you whine weakly, thrashing a bit to show your distress. His mouth returns to yours, right hand swifty unbuttoning your pajama. Jungkook trails down wet kisses down your neck, suckling on the soft skin in places. A moan escapes you when he tweaks your clothed nipple between his fingers.

“I haven’t started anything yet, princess.” His whisper is hot against your cleavage, right hand slipping beneath your back to unhook your bra. “So pretty,” he coos, throwing it away somewhere in the room. A sudden wave of embarrassment hits you as you realize that this is the most bare you’ve ever been to anyone. So, you try to cover yourself, but he’s faster to stop you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t. Did I not mention how fucking pretty you are?”

Face flushed, you avoid eye contact. “Sorry… it’s just– um, the first time someone saw me like this.”

Jungkook lets go of your wrists, the weight of your words sinking in. “Good fucking lord, ____.” His eyes darken, breathing uneven. “Let me take care of you, angel.” He captures your lips in a searing kiss, strong, calloused hand massaging your breast. His other hand is at the small of your back, supporting both of you.

Eventually, he trails downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses until he reaches your unoccupied breast. With his eyes locked on you, Jungkook licks at your stiffened bud, earning a whimper from you. “Look at me, princess.” He encourages, almost losing it when your droopy eyes fixate on his face.

With his cock throbbing inside his boxer-briefs, he wraps his lips around your nipple, earning him a lewd whine. You place your arm over your mouth quickly, head falling back as he runs his teeth and tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. It feels unbelievably good, you had no idea having your nipples sucked would be like this.

“Oh my god,” you cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation when Jungkook also starts tweaking and teasing your other nipple with his finger. More arousal has leaked from your sopping hole, a tight feeling inside your lower belly coiling. The pleasure is almost blinding, making you twitch and tremble under him.

Soon, he impatiently moves to ravish the unattended breast, adding more to your devastation. You’re just barely hanging in there, extremely unsure of what’s happening with your body, feeling like you might explode any minute. Jungkook, on the other hand, bites and suckles on your tits like his life depends on it, frenzied by your sweet taste and reactions.

But he stops short when he notices your hips bucking up, eyes teary, ready to spill the diamond drops. “My baby,” he murmurs, letting his right hand slip inside your pajama bottoms. You moan out of relief when he presses down on your clit, inner walls clenching around nothing. Jungkook is almost surprised when he finally feels the damp cloth of your cotton panties. “Fuck, can’t believe you.”

He quickly gets rid of your bottoms, eyes falling upon the massive wet patch on your panties. “No– it’s embarrassing—” You try to cross your legs shut. Quite genuinely, you had no idea that it’s possible to produce that much liquid down there. Unfortunately, he’s way too strong, spreading your legs apart with bare-minimum effort.

“Shh, nothing is embarrassing, angel. You’re a fucking goddess, out of the world, even.” Jungkook sounds so sincere that your heart skips a beat. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby.” He pulls at the waistband of your panties, slowly taking the offending material off. An expletive rumbles in his throat when he sees the strings of your arousal attaching you to your underwear.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy.” He hisses, struggling to keep his urges on check. Blindly throwing away the panties somewhere, Jungkook eagerly settles down between your legs, already feeling his cock twitch at the sight of your drenched pussy. “Goddamn…” He gingerly parts your nether lips, exposing your dripping hole to his hungry gaze.

“Don’t stare at it like that,” your voice is small, heart doing backflips in your chest. It makes you feel so shy, the way his eyes are trained on your lady bits. His short laugh makes you wanna rub your thighs together.

“Awe, is my princess feeling embarrassed? Don’t be, you have the prettiest pussy, all swollen and wet for me~” Jungkook rubs his middle finger along your slit, letting it coat into your nectar. New to the feeling of his thick, calloused finger, you whimper out of sensitivity. Oh, the way he’s absolutely adored by you.

He tilts his head as if he’s contemplating something. Then all of a sudden, he starts lowering himself until he is face to face with your core. “Wan’ a taste of your cute, little pussy.” Goosebumps spread over your skin as you clench at the thought. Jungkook lazily thumbs your swollen clit, enamored by your responses. “You’re so fucking responsive, makes me wanna play with you forever.”

“Nngh— Jungkook!” you squeal as he licks a fat stroke along your pussy, covering the whole area with his saliva. It’s weird — the way it feels, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He moans at the initial taste, putting your legs on his shoulder to really get in there.

Jungkook laps at your cunt hungrily, his thumb diligently rubbing your clit. His tongue teasingly rims around your entrance, before plunging into the depths of your core. You jolt, crying out of despair, hypersensitive to his ministrations. The flexible muscle strokes at your gummy walls, increasing the weird feeling inside your stomach. Now, you feel certain that you will burst at any moment, clenching on his tongue helplessly.

But he doesn’t stop, his little groans going straight through your core. Jungkook is in a frenzy, his whole mouth buried in your pussy as he greedily devours every single drop of your nectar. With his movements getting quicker and rougher, the knots in your lower stomach start to feel like they’ll snap. “Oh my god,” you cry out loud, “Jungkook, it– ugh, feels so weird— wait— Aah!”

Your body goes rigid as soon as he pinches your clit between his fingers, a flooding sensation spreading throughout you. White spots appear in your vision while your body breaks out in exhilarating shivers, a string of incoherent words leaving you. Jungkook, on the other hand, slurps at your juices, his heart swelling in his chest. This is the first time you experienced a release. And he’s the first person to taste your sweet cherry pop.

Your body loosens up soon after, leaving you all mushy. He holds you close, slowly retracting his tongue from your pussy, making you whine weakly. It makes an embarrassingly loud popping sound when he finally pulls away, his whole mouth covered with your slick, glistening under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

“Baby,” Jungkook coos at you, noticing the tear streaks on your temples. He never thought he’d be seeing you like this, but he’s loving every second of it. You look messed up in the best way possible, all for him. “Did I make you feel good, hm? You came all over my face, look at me, c’mon~”

His voice is cocky, eyes twinkling with mischief. When you finally meet his eyes, Jungkook reaches for your with his left hand, wiping away the stray tears. You’re unsure what to say, still processing everything that just happened. But still, you clear your throat, starting, “Um… Thank you…”

“Oh? For what?” He can’t help his chuckle. You’re just so freaking cute.

“For… for making me come, like I asked, Jungkook.” you whisper, nuzzling his hand affectionately.

“Trust me, it was my pleasure. But you’re welcome! Care to receive my other services regarding this?”

You flush at his words, immediately realizing what he means exactly.

“Well…?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, quite impatient.

“Mmm… I’d love to.” He doesn’t waste a single second upon your confirmation, his tattooed right hand cupping your pussy in a rough manner.

“God—” you moan as he pushes his middle finger inside, overwhelmed by how thick and long it is compared to your own, familiar one. Jungkook leans down to press a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I’m really sorry, but I don’t think you’ll be getting any sleep tonight.” His big, brown eyes look into yours, full of lust and something softer that you can’t really place.

“I don’t mind.” Your smile turns into a broken moan when he hits a specific spot deep inside you, your gummy walls squeezing his finger appreciatively.

Being stupidly bold isn’t so bad all the time, maybe.

˗ˏˋ ★ extended notes ˎˊ˗

thanks so much for reading 🥺! i hope this was okay >.< (pls ignore typos or other mistakes, english is not my 1st language) ; i’d love to hear your thoughts about this! please reblog, comment, or even send me asks, feedback is very much appreciated!

#taffy writes ⁂ fics.#taffy writes ⁂ bts.#taffy writes ⁂ jungkook.#bts smut #jungkook smut #kpop smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #jungkook fanfic #i am shaking :')) ; oh the horror of being perceived...#here goes nothing

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castercassette · 2 years

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It’s out

#here goes nothing #hope you like it #fic

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viv-hollande · 5 months

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Ok, so this is a post that I should have made sooner. I've been somewhat out of the loop with regards to current events and the state of discourse on this website courtesy of a pretty serious depressive episode from which I am only just now recovering. As I have emerged from this state I have been pushed towards a conclusion about this website and the state of discussion around the ongoing Israel-Gaza War that I had thus far avoided due in part to my barely possessing the energy to keep myself alive and due in part to my denial that the conclusion could be true. But that denial can no longer hold.

It has become openly apparent that the pro-Palestinian camp on this website has become popularly infused with a degree of blatant, aggressive antisemitism that I, in my naivety thought impossible in the days just after October 7. I am trying to avoid turning this into a mea culpa because that would be unproductive and feel self-serving, but I do feel an obligation to admit that I disregarded prescient warnings from Jewish users whose warnings I dismissed as over-blowing a problem that I felt was real, but more limited in scope than they made out.

I'm neither an idiot nor am I ignorant. I am well aware of the long history of antisemitism in leftist politics and in the Palestinian Liberation movement. Back at the beginning of this crisis I was prepared to see the occasional instance of antisemites using the inevitable, overwhelming Israeli retaliation as an excuse to air their hateful politics. I was prepared to see both the well-meaning but ignorant and the malicious alike sharing tweets from antisemitic pro-Palestine accounts, spreading and normalizing low-grade, subtle antisemitism. Make no mistake, this should have been condemned. Antisemitism, like all bigotries, has no 'safe' level. There is no background level of antisemitism that society should just accept as normal. But I was more focused on the inevitable cacophony of suffering that Israel would almost certainly begin meting out, and so I failed to act.

The fatal blow to my denial was the increasing prevalence of the use of quotation marks around the word "Israel" and "Israeli". The first few times I saw this, I didn't really understand what it meant. Still laboring under the belief that antisemitism was a manageable problem on the left, I was certain that most of the users on this site, well-intentioned, goodhearted, critically thinking people that they were, would have recognized and called out even disguised antisemitism before it took over a good 20-40% of all posts about the conflict. I was a damn naive fool. For those, like past me, who have not cottoned on to the meaning of the quotation marks, they have become a way to express the denial of the legitimacy or even existence of, individually or all together, the State of Israel, the Israeli people, or the right of either Jews or Israelis to identify as Israelis.

CONGRATULATIONS TUMBLR! You have successfully revived from depths of 4chan neo-Nazi boards the (((fucking echoes))).

Are you serious? Are you fuckers for real? This, right here, encapsulates the pitch-black absurdity of this whole situation and why I remained in denial for so long. Never, in a million years, would I imagine that the proudly pro-Social Justice, anti-fascist, 100% Certified SAFE-SPACE(tm) website would end up using the same language as the goddamn Nazis on 4chan. I thought this website was smarter than that. But noooo, it turns out that I was a damn naive fool.

This was where the post was originally going to end. I say my piece, hope to change a few minds, and commit myself to actually fighting antisemitism instead of sitting back and dismissing the problem. But I figure, while I'm here and while I still have the driving forces of anger and guilt pushing me along, I may as well put pen to paper and spew forth my other thoughts on the ongoing crisis. I am thus compiling a much longer post detailing my thoughts on some aspects of the current situation. [EDITED ~1:25 AM GMT, 5 Dec 2023: add link to finished post] That post will definitely be long, probably be angry, possibly wrong on some aspect of fact, and will absolutely be pretentious, preachy, self-righteous and hubristic to a positively Hellenistic degree. Brief, non-comprehensive summary so you can decide whether or not get mad at me ahead of time;

Israel does apartheid, or near enough for government work.

Israel is definitely conducting a campaign of forced displacement, possibly amounting to ethnic cleansing, but I remain unconvinced of the claim of genocide.

Hamas may or may not be a anti-colonialist revolutionary group, but it definitely is an antisemitic terrorist organization with genocidal aspirations and actively supporting them is morally indefensible. Yes, this includes the Al-Qassam Brigades.

Anti-colonial and other revolutionary movements do in fact have fundamental moral obligations and suffering oppression does not give you carte blanche to do terrorism, even when an oppressor attempts to render peaceful opposition impossible. There is a middle ground between peaceful marching and 850+ dead civilians; aim for that.

The left is just as prone to unhinged conspiracism as the right.

Verify your sources, for fuck's sake.

Use nuance. It won't kill you.

There's more, but it's a little difficult to summarize an unfinished post. If you want to argue with any of these points, go ahead, just keep in mind that a longer, more comprehensive post is in the works that might have the answer to your argument/complaint/insult/intellectual disagreement. If that post isn't up by midnight GMT on Friday, assume I forgot about it and argue away. In conclusion, antisemitism is bad, apartheid is also bad, Tumblr is a hellsite (derogatory), "From the river to the sea" is, in fact, antisemitic, seriously, stop saying it, take Jews seriously when they warn you about antisemitism instead of writing them off like a damn naive fool, and last but not least, free Palestine.

#antisemitism #israel gaza war #israel #palestine #fuck hamas #politics #leftism #free palestine #israel palestine conflict #misinformation #here goes nothing #kicking the hornet's nest

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euphor1a · 1 year

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Light a flame

* a short and sweet prologue for the series “boyfriend chronicles” — can be read as a stand-alone.

ꨄ pairing: mingyu x f!oc

ꨄ genres: non idol!au, established relationship, fluff, smut, slice of life.

ꨄ summary: you weren’t exactly planning on getting freaky so early in a relationship, especially after everything you went through. well... let’s just say that plans don’t always work out (when your new boyfriend is way too good at getting you all hot and bothered).

ꨄ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~5.2K

ꨄ warnings/tags: profanity, explicit sexual content; dom/sub undertones, oc is kinda inexperienced (not a virgin), breast play, biting/marking, size kink, oc is shy (at first), praising, pet names, cunnilingus, dacryphilia(?), fingering, mingyu is... a menace, protected, penetrative sex, big d*ck!gyu, multiple orgasms (f!receiving) — this is a work of fiction and it doesn't represent mingyu in any way.

ꨄ a/n: *ahem* <3 hi!! so i kinda sorta made a prologue which adds nearly nothing to the story (plot wise). unless you’re squinting really hard to pick up on some random clues i left here and there. anyway, that’s really not the point. i’m just plain delulu about this man. you’re welcome for the potential brainrot this may cause <3 enjoy 😙!

To say that you weren’t expecting yourself in this situation is the understatement of the year, at least for you. Really, you never ever thought of going this far so soon. But the way his lips sought yours again and again, effortlessly reduced you to the needy mess you are now. Any coherent thoughts of waiting until you are one-hundred percent sure about everything has left you; his smooth tongue on the nape of your neck sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Mi–mingyu, please,” your whisper is very shaky, almost covered up by your constant panting. He doesn’t answer, but you can feel your boyfriend’s lips curling up against your flushed skin. Your hands have balled into fists, holding onto the soft material of his hoodie for dear life. Mingyu pulls back a little, immediately noticing how wrecked you exactly look. Shaky thighs and teary eyes that are pleading — he couldn’t help but pull you in for a kiss.

“God, please!” Your voice is small, but you take a hold of his right hand that is resting on your hips and place it on your left breast instead. You have no idea where this sudden straight forwardness is coming from, and you can tell that he’s on the same boat. But you genuinely couldn’t care less. You want– no, need him to touch you more.

Mingyu hesitates for a split second, before squeezing the soft flesh once, twice, a pleased squeal leaving you. “Fuck,” He mumbles under his breath, feeling the prominent press of your hardened bud against his palm. The next moment, his thumb gently drags over your clothed nipple. You shudder, feeling the urge to rub your thighs together. Too bad that you can’t act on your thoughts, as you’re settled on his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist. Mingyu brings up his other hand to grab your right breast, eagerly kneading them together.

You let your head fall into the crook of his neck. It feels so good, and you can feel the slick leaking out of your core and dampening your underwear. “Do you like it, hm? Like how I play with your cute tits?” He whispers straight into your ear, gently urging you to look at him using his shoulder.

“Mmm…” you trail off shyly, eyes avoiding his honey-browns as you try to stop yourself from making embarrassing noises. Mingyu, however, isn’t exactly pleased with your answer, or the way you’re attempting to suppress the sweet sounds of your pleasure. He tweaks your nipples between his thumb and index finger, coaxing out a whimper from you — the prettiest one he has ever heard, he swears.

A puppy-like, innocent smile blooms on his face, contradictory to the crude actions he’s doing to you. “C’mon angel, answer properly for me.” He cradles your face in one of his palms, freeing your lower lip from the cage of your teeth. “And stop doing that! You make such beautiful sounds, why hide them from me?” Mingyu leans in to place his lips on yours, his hands ever so subtly creeping under your shirt.

You shudder under his touch, whining, “'m sorry.” His fingers spread across the area of your belly, subtly brushing over the lining of your bra. A hum reverberates in his throat.

“If you want me to stop at any given moment, just tell me, okay?” His thumb gently strokes the underside of your breast, earnest gaze falling upon yours. You swear that your heart skips a beat. When was the last time someone looked at you like this? Like you actually matter so much?

“I will!” You nuzzle his nose, rubbing against him, hoping that he takes the hint. If you weren’t so embarrassed to utter it out, you would’ve told him that you’re ready, sopping wet and dripping for his attention. A groan escapes Mingyu, his bulge pressing onto your core with your movements. Gosh, he feels so big.

His hasty hands divest you out of the offending material of your tunic, leaving you in your underwear only as he had gotten rid of your leggings beforehand. As the cold air hits your warm skin, goosebumps spread across it. You feel your insecurities and shyness creeping up on you, but the way Mingyu drinks in every inch of your newly exposed skin makes you clench instinctively.

The searching eyes of his drop to your panties and his expression changes a little. You sneak a peek at it too, immediately dying a bit inside when you see three of the “we bare bears” printed all over it, with various… questionable expressions. Heat rises to your face, and you end up covering your eyes with your hands. You really would’ve worn something less silly if you knew this would be happening. Mingyu reaches for your hands with a chuckle. “And I thought you couldn’t possibly get cuter…”

Although, you refuse to make eye contact with him once he uncovers them. His hot breath fans over your face, voice dropping an octave. “Look at me baby, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He lets his left hand drift towards the band of your panties, stroking it briefly. Your winded arms around his neck tighten, a gasp escaping you.

“Do you know how hard is it to hold back my urges on a leash when you’re being so adorable? I…” Mingyu trails off with a shake of his head. His words give you all sorts of butterflies throughout your body, and you feel yourself needily pressing into him more.

“You… don’t have to hold back?” you whisper, tilting your head sideways to assess his reaction. He closes his eyes for a second, inhaling a shaky breath. Oh, the way Mingyu wishes he could have his way with you right now. But he doesn’t want this to go that way, because you are his first priority.

“You really don’t understand the weight of the things you utter, do you, sweetheart?” The way he slowly opens his eyes with a sly smirk makes you twitch. God, you might just go insane if he doesn’t touch you right now.

“Told you… don’t stop,” you mumble, heaving a little. Mingyu wonders if he should tease you further, but his own urgency stops him from doing so. He pulls you in for a messy kiss, hands wrapping around your back. While his tongue greedily devours yours, he fumbles to take off your bra. You almost consider helping him out through the haze of your mind, but he somehow manages to unhook it right at that moment.

He doesn’t break the kiss yet, slipping off the material of your shoulders. You gasp, shocked, as Mingyu swiftly changes your position; your back hits the softness of your bed while he hovers over you. In the state of confusion, you loosen your legs from around his waist, but he stops you from doing so with his hand.

“You’re so–” he pauses for a bit, “... so fucking unreal.” His mouth finds its purchase on the crook of your neck, abusing the delicate skin to ground himself. A cry escapes you, his much, much larger body pushing you further down into the mattress. Your fingers thread through his hair, goosebumps spreading across your body when Mingyu trails down open-mouthed kisses from your collarbones to nipple.

“Gyu–” you moan, the warmth of his mouth enclosing around the sensitive nub. Bolts of pleasure shake you to the core as he grazes his teeth over it before suckling on it soundly, his left hand expertly tweaking the other one. Your mind is a mess, lost in the sensation of his tongue brushing over your nipple repetitively. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he moves over to the neglected bud, ravishing it with attention. You’re nothing but a twitching, mewling mess under him.

With a loud, wet pop, Mingyu finally pulls away a bit to admire what he has done. Even though your mind is in a haze, the bodily urge to feel his skin makes you pull onto his hoodie’s sleeves with a whine. He stops short, eyes following your hand with a fond laugh. “You want that off, huh?” your boyfriend of five months mutters dulcetly. You nod with a pout, fingers still lightly gripping on the material.

“I guess it is kinda unfair that I’m still fully clothed.” Mingyu tilts his head, getting rid of the cloth with one hand. The technique impresses you so much that you’re a few seconds late to notice the treasures he has been hiding inside – the ones you’ve been daydreaming about for a while now. You wrap up your legs tighter around his waist, hand coming up to cover a portion of your face. From his huge arms that can probably choke you to death to his chest that is probably larger than yours, and the chiseled abs adorning his abdomen – the reality is much more impressive than what your fruitful mind had come up with.

Although, it is a tad bit overwhelming. Your lust-fueled brain creates all sorts of lewd ideas; you had no clue that you can think about such things too, up until this moment. It makes you impossibly embarrassed, and you find yourself shrinking under his gaze. “Speechless, hm? Likewise.” Mingyu leans down to get your arm out of your face, a smug grin on his face that almost infuriates you. “You like it, don’t you? That you’re so tiny in my arms?”

Hearing those words out loud makes your heart flip. You try to thrash around a bit but realize that he has caged you entirely with his body. He quirks an eyebrow at that. “Hey… are you uncomfortable? I told you; you can tell me to stop anytime, didn’t I?” He lets go of your arms, looking at you questioningly.

“No!! I’m okay, I swear! It’s just, um– I didn’t expect you to figure out what I was thinking.” You reach for him and gently pull him back closer. Mingyu smiles, relieved to hear that.

“You’ll have to get used to it though, kind of. It’s really easy to tell what you’re thinking by your body language.” He clicks his tongue, peppering your face with kisses. A sigh of contentment escapes you, your hands moving to explore his bare skin. You brush over his nipples, your fingers rippling over the curves of his abs, heading downward. As you get dangerously close to where his pants have slid down exposing his underwear, the giant on top of you shudders, hissing under his breath. “Fuck. Don’t do that. I might go insane.”

“Why? Let me return the favor… I wanna touch you too…” you whine, a bit surprised. After all, you aren’t a complete stranger to sex. All the times you’ve been intimate with a guy previously, they’ve always wanted to receive stimulation right back after doing what Mingyu just did, or worse, they’d want it even before touching you. Why doesn’t he want it, then?

“'Return the favor'? What the fuck do you mean?! What type of assholes have you been dating before?” He almost sounds agitated. You open your mouth to answer, but nothing really comes to your mind. What can you tell him, really? You’d rather not ruin the mood with your… dark dating history.

“Well, teach me everything, then! I’ll be an obedient student for you.” You hope that your suggestive tone is enough to change the topic. Spoiler alert: it is.

“That’s… a dangerous proposition to put out in front of me. Teach you, huh?” Mingyu finds your lips with a smile. His right-hand slides under your back to support his body, his left hand cupping your cheek to take control of the kiss. You moan in his mouth when he starts rubbing his bulge against you.

“I will teach you. Everything and beyond. You will never. Never be able to get enough of me.” He murmurs between kisses, pulling away with a grin. Those words have you devastated, your heart leaping in your chest. Mingyu reaches for your breasts again, but not so gentle anymore.

His big hands engulf the perky peaks, squishing them. You cry out, eyes closing when he mouths one of the nipples. His teeth tugs on it and then his tongue follows after to soothe it down. It’s a different sort of pleasure – one that makes you clench around nothing.

Mingyu trails wet kisses down your stomach until he reaches the band of your panties. He chuckles a bit again, noticing all the goofy prints of the bears on the material closely. You whine, “Don’t laugh, I know it’s embarrassing!” His index finger finds your clit with precision, a shocked gasp escaping you.

And you thought guys don’t know what the fuck is a clitoris. Well, some of them do need to study the female anatomy before even thinking of doing anything, speaking from experience.

“It’s cute, you’re cute,” Mingyu hums, continuing to rub you over the panties. As if you already haven’t made a mess of those. The material sticks to your pussy almost unconformably, even more slick leaking out of your core.

“Gosh, please. Gyu…” you wriggle a bit, impatient for more than just that. He smirks, pulling at your panties, admiring the way strings of your arousal connect you with the cloth.

Mingyu rasps, “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He lets his finger coat in your slippery juices, discarding the ruined underwear and tossing it somewhere in the room. A sudden wave of shyness creeps up on you, and you find yourself crossing your legs.

It doesn’t work out as he parts your legs all the way with both of his hands, and for some reason your body just gives into it. Mingyu holds your legs firmly for a while before resting them both on his shoulders. “How pretty,” he coos, taking the closest look someone has ever taken at your pussy. Your hands automatically come up to cover your eyes, an almost inaudible whimper rumbling in your throat.

He parts your nether lips, exposing your weeping, needy hole to his eyes. “Good fucking lord,” Mingyu grunts, “I already know ‘m gonna love this pussy to bits.” His hot breath fans over the sensitive area repetitively. You feel yourself clenching again, your mind hazy with lust.

“Please don’t tease me…” you mewl, daring to take a look at him. You’re shocked to find his sparkling eyes focused on your cunt. But Mingyu looks up to meet your gaze, his tongue peeking out just slightly. You’re unable to break away from the stare, as if in a trance, while he starts to lower his face slowly.

“Ohmygod,” you moan, your head hitting the pillow as he suddenly hurries up to lick a fat stripe along your slit. He hums upon the first taste, flattening his tongue to cover more area. You shiver, exhilarated by his touch. Mingyu brings his fingers in the scene too, letting them slather up in his spit and your nectar.

You shriek when the wet, flexible muscle slips inside your entrance, his digits rolling your clit in lazy circles. He moans at the taste, moving his tongue in swirling motions inside. The sensation of it is too strong and overwhelming for you. You’ve never been touched like this in your life.

“Mmh! Fuck– I can’t, gonna come–” you manage to utter between pants. Your hands have turned into fists, a weird feeling coiling inside you. It’s so intense, and you start to feel like you’ll burst. Mingyu doesn’t pull away, though, holding you tight and doubling his efforts, a string of incoherent words leaving you.

You start spasming soon, a rush of fluids reaching his mouth. He grunts and slows down, surprised at how quickly you finished. On the other hand, tears wet your temples, your body shaking from the aftermath. You have never experienced this amount of ecstasy before. Mingyu starts lapping at you a while after, ignoring your pleading cry. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, baby? Tasting so heavenly, hm?”

He doesn’t stop until he’s sure that every drop you offered to him is consumed. You’re twitching from hypersensitivity when he finally gets up to cover your body with his. His left hand, however, lingers around your inner thigh, stroking the skin lightly. “You are so responsive,” Mingyu tuts, noticing your tears. “Shit, did that make you cry? Too much?”

You rub your face against his hand as he brings it to dry the wet trails on your face. He sighs, smiling. “You’re gonna give me a whole bunch of new kinks at this rate, princess.”

“It just… felt too good,” you whisper, the ache to have him in your dripping cunt already coming back. You can also feel the painfully big tent of his pants pressing into your thighs, only increasing your struggle. “Gyu… it feels weird again, please.” You look up at him with doe eyes, a low growl reverberating in his throat.

“Ready to go again, are we?” Mingyu cups your pussy with his hand, your hips instinctively rubbing against the calloused skin. He swears under his breath, looking at you needily pressing into him for pleasure. To your dismay, he doesn’t offer any help, only watching you trying to get off using his palm. Your eyes fall on what was previously poking you so indecently.

Good fucking lord. You don’t know what that is, but you need it inside you.

You can’t help but moan wantonly at the thought, your movements increasing. Mingyu shakes his head with a laugh, amused by your very obvious actions. “Turns out you’re not really shy. Or at least, much less than what I thought.”

A whine escapes you, embarrassment hitting you like a ton of bricks. You stop rutting against him and close your eyes immediately, curling up a little as if to protect yourself from his words.

“Oh, come on now! Don’t act like you weren’t just ogling at me, thinking about my cock and how you want it.” Mingyu teases, endeared by you. He reaches for your face, hoping to make you look at him. “No need to shy away, I’d be more than happy to make your cute little fantasies come true.”

“Mingyu!” you grumble, opening your eyes a bit. As much as you hate to admit it, his words excite you. After a small mental debate, you decide to just go with the flow.

“What?!” He challenges. You absolutely hate how entertained your boyfriend sounds right now. Your lips form a pout, your eyes channeling the most pitiful expression you can possibly put on.

“Don’t just… say stuff like that. Do it instead.” The playfulness disappears from his whole demeanor, his fingers immediately reaching for your puffy, slippery labia. You whimper his name when Mingyu eases his middle finger inside you. It’s hard to explain exactly how well that single digit fills you up, your inner walls clenching around it immediately.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” He feels around your entrance with his ring finger, before it slowly vanishes in the depths of you. You struggle for a second to give him space, but it passes away quickly. Mingyu grunts, “Gonna have to prepare you thoroughly with care before I give you my cock. Your little pussy won’t be able to take it otherwise.”

You’re a mess as he scissors the digits inside you, his thumb on your clit to make sure that you experience the best. He stretches you out to his liking, also curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot. Your cries are music to his ears. Mingyu is obsessed with the sounds you make – quite literally. And the fact that he’s the reason behind them? Makes it even more obsessive.

By the way your spongy walls squeeze his fingers, he can tell that you’re pretty close to reaching another high. He wonders if he should put another finger in now, as he doesn’t want to delay things further. With all honesty, Mingyu is painfully hard, straining against his boxer briefs. He genuinely can’t restrain his urges anymore.

So, he does follow through, pushing in his index, but stops halfway with your whimpers. “Hurts,” you manage. With his lips pressing in a thin line, he nods, spare hand stroking your stomach in hopes of easing the pain. It takes you a while, but you get used to the unfamiliar stretch. “Your fingers are so… so thick.” Mingyu laughs at your comment, pride welling in his chest.

“My cock is way thicker though.”

“God!” You don’t know if it’s a plea of desperation or devastation. He begins pumping you slowly, hitting all the spots that make you all mushy — spots that you had no idea exist, you swear. Tears have reappeared in your eyes, threatening to fall down. You’re also overflowing with juices, squelching with each thrust of his digits.

“Baby can hear how wet you are for me, can’t you?” Mingyu increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your body starting to stiffen up. He clearly knows what he is doing. Your mind is in a haze, pussy clenching around him.

The gradual build-up of the coiling pleasure and tension bursts, your body going limp from the shockwaves. He lets you ride out your high, enthralled by the way your body convulses under him. Mingyu curls his fingers for one last time, immediately receiving a shrill cry from your side. Although all you manage is a bunch of incoherent words, he somehow understands what you’re trying to say. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know my princess is so sensitive and it hurts. Let me just pull them out slowly, okay?”

You make a small sound of affirmation, gasping when he finally extracts his digits out of you. It leaves you feeling all empty, but you’re unable to focus on that as he puts his fingers in his mouth. Your whimper, flustered by the low groans and hums Mingyu makes while sucking and licking your essence off his fingers.

When he finally comes back up to hover over you, you cling to his muscular, huge body, wanting nothing more than his warmth and touch. He nuzzles you affectionately in return, pressing your lips together in a kiss. You can taste the subtle aftertaste of yourself, but you really don’t mind it.

Mingyu pulls away with a sigh, touching your foreheads together. From this close, his eyes look like pools of honey, looking at you with an amount of adoration that kind of scares you. “I can’t believe that you – this – is real,” you mumble, entranced by his features.

“Same,” he whispers back. You realize that you’re still aching for him since his fingers left you empty; he’s probably in a way worse situation — judging by the way his bulge presses into you. You sigh.

“Are you… are you gonna stop like this?” Mingyu perks up with your question, smiling.

“It depends on you, baby. Do you want me to end it here? Tell me what you want, I’ll never be mad.” You realize he’s giving you the option to back out, even now, at this state. It warms your heart. Where the hell have people like him been for all those years you struggled?

“I want you.” Your voice is steady, and so is your gaze when you look at him. Mingyu inhales sharply at your words, his adam’s apple bobbing.

“You know what you are saying, right?”

“Mhm…”

“Don’t ‘mhm’ it?! Oh, for god’s sake!”

“What exactly do you want me to say? That I want you to fuck me? Is that—”

You’re unable to finish complaining as he smashes his lips against yours, his tongue prying inside your mouth with the bare minimum resistance. Mingyu tries to get rid of his pants without breaking the kiss, struggling poorly but managing to do so either way. Too bad that he has to pull away moments later, hand slipping into the left pocket of his pants. You’re flushing when he produces a condom out of it, eyes falling to his bare thighs and… the inevitable.

His hearty chuckle rings through your ears. “You’re so obvious that it’s sort of adorable.” Mingyu pushes down his underwear with a small growl, freeing his cock out of its confines. It stands proud and tall against his chiseled abdomen, the large head of it covered with pre-cum. The length of it is a bit curved, a few veins running across it. You’re unable to tear away your gaze from the scene, both impressed and scared. “Like what you see?”

“Will… will it fit in me?” You pout, very unsure. He rips the foil with his teeth, rolling the thin layer of latex down his girth. You moan when he rests his shaft between your pussy lips, positioning himself on top of you. Mingyu puts his right hand under your back to cradle you, his left hand gripping on your leg to put it around his waist.

“I know you can take it, baby.” He sounds weirdly confident, but you’re in no state to think about that. All you can think about is the way his angry, twitching cock feels against your pussy. You let out small whimpers, instinctively rubbing yourself on his length. It feels incredible, his hard, heavy length providing just the right type of stimulation.

Mingyu reaches down to nibble on your earlobe. “Enjoying ourselves, are we, hm?” he whispers, “Didn’t expect you to be like this already. Weren’t you just asking if I can fit inside you oh so innocently a while ago?”

“Ss–stop teasing me! I just – I wan’ your cock so bad.” Your cry sounds so desperate, Mingyu grits his teeth. His left hand pushes down onto your hips and his mouth sucks a hickey on your neck; his cock sliding down until the bulbous tip reaches your weeping hole.

“You’re gonna take it like a good girl, right?”

“Yes!”

When he finally starts pushing in with a groan, the lubrication helps him slide in. But you find yourself struggling to give him space. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes, the stretch frankly too much. Mingyu stops after the head is inside your molten warmth, stroking your stomach. “Shh, relax, princess, you overcame the hardest part, you’re doing so well.”

You nod silently, a few tears still escaping as you get used to the feeling. Mingyu kisses those salty streaks away, his thumb drawing random patterns on the skin of your hips. After receiving your confirmation to go further, he slowly penetrates deeper and deeper into you, until you stop him again. “I– I can’t anymore…”

He gives you a comforting kiss. “It’s alright, baby. You don’t have to push yourself too hard. It’s our first time trying! I’m so proud of you for taking so much of me so quickly.” His words bring a big, stupid smile to your face.

“Thank you…”

The transition from discomfort to pleasure is unclear, but you moan after a while, your nerve endings on fire. It feels like you’ve been stuffed up to the brim, all sorts of fluids gushing around his cock. “Oh god, move, Gyu. Please.”

Mingyu is more than happy to oblige, pulling out almost all the way before plunging back inside. It effectively pushes him a bit deeper, but there’s no sign of discomfort anymore. You wrap yourself around him tighter, moaning wantonly.

“Fuck, fuck. You feel s’good baby, pussy sucking me in so well.” It’s obvious to you that he is fighting himself to keep his pace relatively gentle and slow. But you’re scared of what would happen to your body if he doesn’t hold back.

You wind your hands around his neck, reaching for his hair and threading your fingers through the strands. Mingyu growls when you pull on them, a rougher thrust hitting your sweet spot. You cry out, gummy walls squeezing his girth happily. “So big,” you huff, eyes rolling back as he continues to hit that spot repetitively.

“You’re just so fucking tiny, baby,” he touches his forehead with yours. “'m scared that if I go too hard, you’ll break.”

You moan, your lust-paralyzed brain entirely forgetting about your previous worries. “Nono, I can– I can take it! Go harder.” Mingyu complies immediately, as if he has been waiting for those words to come out of your mouth. All restrain gone, he drills into you with full force, hitting all the nooks and crannies within you. “Ohmygod, ugh–” you whimper, strange, euphoric sensations flooding your system. You’ve never been fucked this well before.

“You’re so warm and wet and squeezing me so well, baby. My baby treats me s’good. Fuck,” he grunts, pushing your body more into the pillows and the mattress. Your nails dig into his shoulders, sure to leave prominent marks for the next week.

Mingyu gets increasingly rough, the sound of skin slapping echoing through your bedroom. He probes way deeper now, often hitting your cervix which makes you jolt. His balls also hit against your ass repetitively, your body overboard with ecstasy.

You’re a drooling, teary mess, babbling about how big he is and how good he’s making you feel. Your gummy walls are pulsating around him sporadically, extremely close to another orgasm. You pull him in for a messy kiss, moaning at the feeling of his dick hitting you rough.

Mingyu takes a close look at your state once he breaks away from the kiss. His cock twitches at the sight. “I– goodness. Don’t show this face to anyone else, ever. Good fucking hell! I don’t think I can last any longer.” He reaches for your attention deprived swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles and often pinching it between his fingers.

“Ugh– ‘m gonna come, Gyu, it feels like ‘m gonna burst–”

“Come for me, angel. You can let go; I got you.” Mingyu whispers against your shoulder, his own thrusts turning sloppy and uneven. You cry out his name as the pleasure ruptures, bliss overtaking every inch of your body. It almost feels like you’ve reached the seventh heaven, body floating in the air.

Mingyu moans as your inner walls clamp down onto his cock with your orgasm, his movements halting momentarily. “Gonna milk me dry, aren’t you?” He hisses under his breath, giving a few hard thrusts before reaching his own high. His body gives out, crushing you under him as he catches his breath.

Exhaustion kicks in as soon as the haze of the release passes, and you yawn. Mingyu, even though equally spent, rolls over so your small form can rest on top. “Are you okay, baby?” He rubs your back soothingly. You struggle to keep your eyes open, head comfortably resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat that slows down to normal with each passing second.

“Mmm, sleepy…” you mumble, another yawn escaping you. Mingyu sighs, ruffling your hair adoringly.

“It’s okay, you can sleep. I’ll clean you up.” You smile, kissing the skin closest to your lips. Silence fills up the space again, your eyes fluttering close with the white noise of his heartbeat and breaths.

Before slipping into unconsciousness, you realize there’s only one thought in your mind.

This is the most loved and cared for you’ve felt with someone who isn’t your mom.

end of prologue ♡ next

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading 🥹🫶🏼; i apologize if there are any mistakes, i didn’t exactly edit this :') !! BUT i’d loooove to hear what you thought of this! reblogs and comments are really appreciated <333! you can also send feedback through asks if you’d prefer that! 💖

until next time!

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mj-thrush-gxn · 1 month

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must

draw

#here goes nothing #i need to draw smaller things more #rather than these big pieces #but oh well #theyre fun #thrush rambles #lotf #lotf fanart #lord of the flies fanart #lord of the flies #thrush draws #digital art

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dreamaboutwhathappens · 1 year

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since so many people are surprised at the number of tswift polls, let’s settle this once and for all

#this could go….. so many ways #akdkksdk #random thoughts with grace #here goes nothing

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bechnokid · 9 months

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There is a pixel art clique whose requirements include converting a favorite album into pixel art! I'm not an expert at it by any means, but I've enjoyed drawing in the Pokémon pixel art style from time to time! :3

Left: Upscaled version, right: original size

#i don't know how to post small pixel art on tumblr lol #here goes nothing #bechno art #pixel art #britney spears #yes i know i'm britney trash!! she's been an inspiration since i was an elementary schoolgirl!!!

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 3 months

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Screaming from the crypt (or how the past haunts the present on Midnights)

I know it's been discussed so much since Midnights came out but just.

I love how there is such a clear narrative throughout the album (and perhaps especially on the 3am/Vault tracks). About questioning and regret and choices and coming to terms with all of it. It is one long story about how we're all a mosaic of the choices we make, each one taking something from us and leaving something else in its place.

(And now a disclaimer: I'm looking at this mostly through a narrator/subject lens, and trying not to dive too deeply into real-life events or speculation except for in a general sense. For this purpose I like to look at the body of work as art, like literature, because I find it makes it easier to see the common threads in the different songs and cohesion in the narrative.)

In looking at the 3am+ tracks in particular, it's fascinating how some turns of phrases or themes repeat themselves in different songs, in different contexts. (I'm only focusing on the non-standard tracks because there are too many songs and I'd be here all day but I bet I could do a part two lol.) I know many people have pointed out the parallels throughout her discography already and I’m not saying anything groundbreaking by writing this, but I love how these parallels run through in the same album, because it makes it seem like it's one long story, or at least, one long rumination on many different stories that are coalescing into a single narrative.

Battle (let’s go)

For instance, the one that jumped out at me when I started writing this post the other week was, "Tore your banners down, took the battle underground," in The Great War and "If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners, you and I," in Would've, Could've Should've. It's a story about staying stuck in the same cycle of reliving trauma and coping mechanisms and bad habits over and over again and fantasizing about how taking the “antagonist” out and gaining the upper hand for good would bring closure (WCS), but the truth is that nothing ever will. All that cycle does, though, is repeat itself in other situations, and in this case pushes someone away the narrator cares for (TGW). The difference is that the imagined battle in WCS is a two-way street in her mind (that is ultimately unwinnable because it was never a fair fight), but in TGW it's one-sided -- she's the one fighting dirty, taking shots, the way she'd been doing in her imagination (or nightmares) all these years. But the person in front of her isn't fighting back the way the person in her mind in WCS would, because their intentions are honourable instead of exploitative.

And that's paralleled in another pair of lyrics from the two songs, "And maybe it's the past talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did," (in TGW) and "The tomb won't close, I fight with you in my sleep," (in WCS). In both cases, the funeral imagery makes it seem like this past event should be dead and buried in WCS, but it keeps rising from the dead, haunting her no matter what she does and in TGW, another (or perhaps the same?) tomb that won't close keeps unleashing new ways to hurt her and in turn the new person in her life. In other words, the trauma from the past continues to bleed into the present.

(Again from a literary point of view, I'm not saying the events of the two songs are linked IRL, but they're fascinating textual parallels on the album as a string of chapters, which is why Dear Reader is so compelling, but that's a whole other essay.)

To keep the battle motif going, there’s yet another parallel, this time between TGW’s "[You were a] soldier down on that icy ground, looked up at me with honor and truth," and You’re Losing Me’s "All I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, fighting in only your army.” In the former, the subject is laying down his armour in the war she’s projecting onto him, waving the white flag, and she realizes that she’s about to destroy something if she doesn’t put her sword down too. By the time we get to YLM, the roles are almost reversed; at the very least they’re supposed to be on the same team, but in this case she’s doing all the heavy lifting, fighting for their relationship in contrast to his apathy killing it. It’s also pretty interesting (if not outright intentional) that one of the 3am+ editions of the albums starts with The Great War, where they find themselves in conflict (even if it’s in her head) that ends in a truce, and ends with You’re Losing Me signalling the end of the relationship, evidence that the resolution in the first song wasn’t an ending but merely a ceasefire before the last battle.

Putting the rest under a cut because this is waaaaay too long now ⤵️

(There’s also another metaphor there in The Great War with its battle imagery: World War I, aka The Great War, was supposed to be the war to end all wars, because loss on its scale was never seen before and when it ended, most thought never again would the world embroil itself in such battle, the horrors and implications were so devastating. Two decades later, the world found itself in WWII, with an even larger scope and more horrific consequences, the intervening time between the two a period of festering conflicts and resentment leading to some of the worst acts the world would see. Bringing real life into it for a second, there’s something a little poetic, though sad, about The Great War the song being about a fight that could have ended the relationship that they ultimately resolved and was meant to be evidence of the strength of their love, but so too did it end up being a period of détente, the greater battle coming for them years later. But that is not the point of this post.)

If one thing had been different

Another major theme in these editions is pondering the "what ifs?" of life, but I think it takes on even more significance in the broader context of the album in the lyrics of "I'm never gonna meet what could've been, would've been, should've been you," in Bigger than the Whole Sky and the repetition of would've/could've in Would've, Could've, Should've (I would've looked away at the first glance, I would've stayed on my knees, I would've gone along with the righteous, I could've gone on as I was, would've could've should've if I'd only played it safe, etc.) In both songs, the narrator is mourning an alternate course their life could have taken* and questioning what they could have done differently, in the aftermath of trauma and loss, and the regret that comes with that loss, and with the loss of agency in the situation because ultimately it was never in their hands. In an album full of questions, wondering about the path not taken, or the forks in the road that have led to a different version of your life, it's digging deeper into the contrast of choice vs. fate, action vs. reaction, dwelling on the past vs. moving on. When you're supposed to let go of the past, what do you do when it is holding your future hostage?

(*I know there are different interpretations/speculation about BTTWS which I am not getting into on main. I'm just saying that whatever the song is about, it's grieving something that never came to be. The literal origin of the song is less important to the album than the sense of loss it portrays. Whatever the inspiration is, it's crafted to tell part of the story of Midnights of ruminating over how, to borrow from her previous work, if one thing had been different, would everything be different?)

(Also I was today years old when I realized that the words are inverted in the two songs. Apparently I've been hearing BTTWS wrong this whole time.)

There's also an interesting tangent in the role of faith in both songs: in WCS, the events of the story cause her to lose her faith (e.g. "All I used to do was pray," "you're a crisis of my faith,") and question all the things she felt had been unquestionable until that point in her life (e.g. "I could have gone along with the righteous"), whereas in BTTWS, she questions whether that very lack of faith is to blame for the loss in that song ("did some force take you because I didn't pray? [...] It's not meant to be, so I'll say words I don't believe"). It's like pinpointing the moment her life changed and upended her beliefs (WCS), but as a result then leaving her unmoored in times of crisis because ultimately there's no explanation or comfort to be taken from what she used to hold true before that (BTTWS). The words she once relied upon to guide her have long since lost their meaning, but in times of trouble it leaves her wondering if that faith she once held then lost could have prevented this pain.

(Shoutout to WCS for being Catholic guilt personified lol.)

To keep on with the vaguely faith-y notions, an obvious parallel is the line in Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve about, “I damn sure never would've danced with the devil at nineteen,” and, "When you aim at the devil, make sure you don't miss," in Dear Reader. All of WCS is about her fighting with an antagonist who haunts her, with whom she wholly regrets ever becoming involved. DR could be seen as a reflection on that fall from grace, warning the audience that if you choose to go after the person (or thing) haunting you, make sure you do so clearheaded enough to be decisive. Again, these “devils” may not be related in real life: the IRL devil in DR could be speaking about her naysayers, or Kim*ye, or Scott & Scooter B, etc., meaning not to cross your enemies until you know you can win. But taking real life out of it and looking at it textually, I am intrigued by the link between WCS and DR, so that’s what I’m going with here. And perhaps that’s even the point in a wider sense; there will be multiple “devils” in your life, or threats to your well-being. If you’re going to commit to taking them down — whether it’s an actual person, or the demons inside you that refuse to let you go — make sure you have the right ammo so that they can no longer hurt you. (Of course, one lesson from these experiences is that sometimes you can’t win, and you have to live with the fallout.)

(Sidebar: I know that “dancing with the devil” is a turn of phrase that means being led into temptation and engaging in risky behaviour, as opposed to describing the actual person. Given the religious metaphors in the song, that could very well be/is the intention, particularly when it’s preceded by, “I would have stayed on my knees” as in she would have continued to follow her faith — in whatever sense that means — had she never met this person, which could also be a more eloquent way of saying she would have continued to be live her life in a way that was righteous (even naive) and seen the world in black and white. Either way, it’s a force she wholly rejects. Like I said, multiple devils, same fight.)

Regret comes up too: in WCS, she says, "I regret you all the time," obviously directed at the person who manipulated her and led to her perceived downfall, citing him as the one impulse she wished she'd never followed, because it won't leave her no matter how hard she’s tried. In High Infidelity, she tells the person to, "put on your records and regret me," and on the surface, it’s like she’s turning the tables, painting herself as the one now causing the regret in someone else, the one inflicting the pain this time. Yet the verse preceding it and the lines following it in the chorus depict a partner who is also emotionally manipulative and vindictive like in WCS (“you said I was freeloading, I didn’t know you were keeping count,” “put on your headphones and burn my city,”). It’s not so much that she’s intentionally harming the person (the way the person in WCS does to her), but rather that the venom in the subject’s feelings towards her seeps through; she’s imagining the way he’s going to feel about her when she leaves, hating her just for by being who she is. (There could be another tangent about how in both songs she’s there to be a “token” in a game for both of the men, who play her for their own purposes.) The regret is dripping with disdain. It’s as though she’s picturing how the person is going to hate her for doing what she’s thinking of doing the way she hates the person who first hurt her.

Sadness, unsurprisingly, shows up in a few lyrics. In BTTWS, “Everything I touch becomes sick with sadness,” sets the scene of a person so overcome with grief that it permeates everything around them; they cannot see their way out of it and feel like the fog will never lift. In Hits Different, it’s, “My sadness is contagious,” the result of a breakup where the person’s grief again touches everything and everyone around them, pushing them further in their despair and loneliness. The reason behind the grief in either case may vary, but regardless of the source, the feeling is overpowering and isolating. They may be different chapters in the story, but the devastation is hauntingly familiar. (As is a recurring theme in Midnights as a whole: there are situations and feelings that present themselves at different points in her journey and colour in the lines in different ways along the road. Like revisiting an old vice and realizing the hit isn’t quite the same as it was in the past.)

Death by a thousand cuts

She also writes about wounds on this album, which isn't surprising I suppose given that the whole conceit is that these are things that have kept her up at night over the years. WCS is perhaps the driving narrative on this never ending hurt when she sings, “The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign, I regret you all the time,” suggesting that no matter what she does, the pain of this experience has permeated everything she’s done afterwards. (Not unlike the overwhelming grief in BTTWS, for instance.) Elsewhere, in High Infidelity she sings, "Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token," and in Hits Different, "Make it make some sense why the wound is still bleeding.” Again I'm not suggesting they're about the same events; the line in HI is about a situation where a partner crosses a boundary, hits below the belt, picks at an insecurity (or creates a new one) and treats the relationship like it's transactional, opening the floodgates in turn. In HD, the wound seems to be more self-inflicted, where she's pushed the person away. (Over a situation real or imagined she feels she needs distance from.) But again, something has picked at her like a raw nerve, and just like in the past, she's hurting, even in a different time and place and person. Almost like the wounds of the past break open over and over again to create new scars. If one were to extrapolate further, it wouldn’t be the biggest leap to wonder if the wound open in WCS, then torn apart in HI makes the one in HD hurt even more.

(I once wrote a post about how I think as time goes on, WCS is going to turn into one of those songs that will be found to drive so much of her work, because it’s just… kind of the unsaid thesis statement of so much of her songwriting.)

Another repeated theme is that of the empty home and loneliness. In High Infidelity, she sings, "At the house lonely, good money I'd pay if you just know me, seemed like the right thing at the time," painting a picture of someone who may have everything they'd want to the outside world, but in reality feels metaphorically trapped in their home (or at least alone amidst abundance), a symbol of a relationship gone sour and a failure to build connection. She just wants someone to understand her, want her for her, but as she's written earlier in the song, she's just a pawn in the game, a trophy from the hunt. Home, in this case, is lonely, isolated, an emblem of her fears. In Dear Reader, she continues this thread, then singing, "You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking, if you knew where I was walking, to a house not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there, where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care, no one sees you lose when you're playing solitaire." It's the same idea, admitting to listeners that the gilded cage she lived in kept her distanced from her loved ones and real connection, keeping her struggles close to the vest but feeling desperately lonely amidst her crowning success. She's pushed people away and it may have felt like the right thing at the time, but in the end maybe felt like she was trapped. And when you push people away, eventually they take you at your word and stop pushing back; you’re a victim of your own success at isolating yourself. What starts out of self-preservation then further perpetuates the underlying problems.

(There's another interesting link about "home" also feeling unsafe with HI's "Your picket fence is sharp as knives," which further leads into the theme of marriage/domesticity feeling dangerous, which is a whole other thing I won't get into here because it's another discussion and may derail this already gargantuan word salad.)

In a slightly similar vein, we have the metaphor of bad weather for a rocky road or unstable relationship, in High Infidelity again with, "Storm coming, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle" and You’re Losing Me’s "every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes.” They aren’t speaking of the same situation or even same kind of breakdown, but it is pretty interesting how the idea of clouds/storms/floods/etc. play such a role in Taylor’s music to signal depression, apprehension, fear, uncertainty, etc. In HI, I think the “storm” coming is the looming threat of commitment to a partner who makes the narrator uneasy (if not fearful). In this case, the idea of making a life with this person is not one that incites joy or comfort, but instead makes the narrator feel that dark times are ahead if she continues down this path. Perhaps in some way, the “storms” in YLM have made good on the threat in HI in a different way; it’s a different home, a different relationship, but the clouds have settled in regardless, and some of her fears have come to fruition in ways she did not expect. The person she once trusted no longer sees her or her struggles (or worse, doesn’t care), and the resentment and pain build with each passing day.

Coming back to heartbreak, one of the obvious "full circle" moments is the beginning of a relationship in Paris, where she says that, "I'm so in love that I might stop breathing," clearly enthralled in a new love that allows her to shut the world out and grow in private, capturing the all-encompassing nature of the relationship. This infatuation has consumed her in the most wonderful way (in contrast to the sorrow of some of the previous songs), and it feels like a life-altering (or even life-sustaining?) force that is so strong she may forget what it’s like to breathe. (Metaphorically speaking, of course.) By the end of the album, though, in You're Losing Me, that heart-stopping love has become a threat: "my heart won't start anymore for you." In the former, her racing heart is full of excitement, but by the latter, her heart has given out completely under the weight of the pain she bears. (YLM is full of death/illness imagery which I already wrote about awhile ago so I won't hear, but needless to say that song deserves its own essay for so many reasons.) She's gone from the unbridled joy of the beginnings of a relationship to the unrelenting sorrow of its end, two sides of the same coin.

Love as death appears elsewhere in the music too, for instance, in High Infidelity’s, “You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough" and You’re Losing Me’s “How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying? […] My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick.” Though not completely analogous situations, they both tell the tale of one partner’s apathy (or at least denial) destroying the other. In the former, the partner’s actions (or inaction) are more insidious, if not sinister; in the latter, the lack of momentum (or admission of a problem) is passive. In both cases, the end result is the narrator’s demise; it’s a drawn out affair that chips away at her morale and her health and her sense of self. (Breaking my own rule about bringing in alleged actual events into the discussion, but the idea that the relationship in High Infidelity, which was obviously fraught with unease and even fear, ended in a similarly excruciatingly slow and hurtful death by a thousand cuts as the relationship in You’re Losing Me almost did at that time must have been so painful. It almost feels like YLM is wondering why what used to be a source of light in her life was mirroring a situation that caused her such pain in the past.)

From the same little breaks in your soul

I said early on that part of what is so compelling about Midnights is that it feels like an album about ruminating — on choices, on events, on people — and the two final “bonus” tracks of the album depict that as well. In Hits Different, she sings that, “they say if it’s right, you know,” an ode to the confusion of a breakup and struggling with the aftermath of calling it quits. It’s a line that has always intrigued me, because the typical use of the phrase is in the sense of, “you’ll know when you meet the one,” but here it seems to have a double meaning, a reassurance perhaps from the friends (who later on tell her that "love is a lie") that she’ll know if she’s made the right decision in calling it off, but could also be her wondering if the relationship is right, she’ll know, and want to reconcile. In the final bonus track, You’re Losing Me, she sings, “now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time,” this time leaving no doubt about the dilemma she faces, though it’s no less fraught. She’s wondering, perhaps for the last time, if now is finally the moment to end the relationship for good. They say that if it’s right she’ll know, and now she’s wondering if that feeling inside her (that once told her her partner was the one, which is why it hit differently), is telling her that it’s time to go for good. Wait Alexa play “It’s Time To Go.” These are not only the things that keep her up at night, but the things that play over in her mind like a film reel in her waking hours.

Midnights as a whole is a deeply personal album, as is most of Taylor's work, but the 3am+ edition tracks seem to dig even deeper to a lot of the issues raised on the standard album. Almost like the standard tracks are the things she wonders about on sleepless nights, but the bonus tracks are the things that haunt her in the aftermath. The regret, anger, sadness, grief, relief, even joy— they’re the price she pays for the memories she keeps reliving. Midnights might be the most cohesive narrative of all her albums, and really does feel like we’re watching someone work through her journal over time, stopping short of outright naming those giant fears and intrusive thoughts (except for when she does) but making them plain as day when you connect the songs together, and perhaps never more clearly than in the expanded album. It’s incredible how the songs stand on their own to relay a specific moment in time, but that they are also self-referential to each other (whether thematically or overtly) to weave a larger web over the entire work. We’re so lucky as fans to have these stories and to keep peeling back these layers as time passes. (And my literature-analysis-loving ass loves her even more for it.)

This is obviously by no means an exhaustive list, and I know there are more parallels and probably even stronger links (particularly when you add the standard version into the mix), but these were the ones that particularly struck me and I’m just glad I’ve had a chance to sit with this and think it through. ❤️

#writing letters addressed to the fire #me thinking too hard about taylor lyrics #taylor swift #midnights #long post #lyrics analysis #song parallels #Gabby this one is for you friend <3 #here goes nothing #Happy Friday or something idk!#(also i know i said there are things i wouldn’t discuss on main but my dms are open lol)#this is not as structured or well plotted out as I wanted it to be #and turned out to be more stream of consciousness than legit essay #but whatever at least i got my thoughts out there and it can release some plot of land in my brain for other stuff to think over lol #If anyone ever reads this thank you! And I’m sorry?#The best compliment i ever got in school #was when we were doing an analysis of a poem in English lit in college #And i brought something up casually #and my prof went ‘I’ve been teaching this class for eight years and that’s the first time anyone’s ever brought it up like that’#’and that just blew my mind’#and i was like ‘who me?’#so that’s all you need to know about me lol #Midnights: The Great War #Bigger than the whole sky #bttws #Midnights: Paris #Midnights: high infidelity #would’ve could’ve should’ve #Midnights: dear reader #midnights: bigger than the whole sky

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moonandmisery · 5 months

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drowning in loneliness

#mine #me #personal #omfg #touch starved #pls help #jfc #should I delete this #I might delete this #fuuuuuck #i’m scared #oops 😅#here goes nothing

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writtenbyred · 1 month

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Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn

Note: Okay so I finally decided to post something I've had in my docs as a draft for forever, because why not. A slow burn matt murdock x reader romance with a whole lot of original storyline and plot building in this first chapter if you're willing to stick with it until you get the entrance of wonderful and rageful Matt.

Warnings: Reference to sexual violence/assault in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I have, since writing up lots for this story and planning it out and becoming attached to my character, seen other fics using an 'empath' OC, but I have become very attached to 'Ana' and I guess daredevil and all its angst lends itself well to an empath story so I'm sending this out into the ether anyways.

Go forth and read if you would like to <3 - Red

Chapter 1. Emotions.

Sat at a cold, metal table on a particularly uncomfortable chair, you looked intently at the person sitting opposite. There sat a young girl. In her file it said she was 21, but if you hadn’t seen that and had to hazard a guess, you’d have presumed her to be around 18. The way her eyes were cloudy with tears, her hands shaking slightly as she held them up to her chin, elbows lent on the cold metal, it all contributed to making her look younger - small, in that moment.

“It’s okay, Emma” You spoke, edging your hands forward on the table in a subconscious show of support. “You can take your time, we’re in no rush”

Emma looked upwards, then. You watched as a single tear slipped from her eye, only briefly tumbling down her cheek before Emma reached to wipe it with her sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Emma stuttered a little over her words, her voice raspy from emotion. “I’m being silly, I just-”

As her words cut off mid sentence, you reached your hand forward quickly to place a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. The dark tumbling of vivid feelings - sadness, shame and fear, that you were already feeling inside your chest (or stomach, mind, just about everywhere? You weren’t 100% where the feelings of others ended up locating themselves within you) multiplied until she felt overwhelmed, having to shake her head with an exhale to push through them.

“Do not apologise. You are not being silly, and have nothing to feel sorry for. This is something incredibly difficult you’re doing, and I’m here to help you through it.” You grasped the girl's hand at that point, and in the way that you still did not fully understand, a wave of whatever calm you could find within yourself washed over you and towards Emma for a moment, and the girl let out a sigh as you watched some of that pain leave her. In that moment you felt good, happy that she could provide this sort of relief for somebody, even if only temporarily and not without an increase in your own anxieties.

“Thank you, I… I think I’m ready to talk now” And Emma’s words came at a perfect time, as a few moments later your head turned to the door, a soft knock floating through.

“You can come in” You called out to the officer you knew was standing on the other side, and then the door opened.

A police officer with a kind face stepped into the room, you had spoken with him earlier when you had first arrived - You were pretty sure he had said his name was Brett. He sent a small smile towards you both, and his empathy for the girl's situation shone through, even if you knew he would never be able to understand her emotions quite as well as you could.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to see how you were getting on” He walked towards the table and you realised then he was holding a mug in his hand, placing it down in front of the girl, he then gestured towards it. “It’s tea.” Emma reached her hand out to grasp it and looked to give him a smile in thanks.

“Sorry Miss Johnson, I didn’t think to get you anything-” You cut off the officer - still unsure if it was definitely Brett he had said, definitely something with a B - before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You shifted her attention back to Emma as she released the hand you had half forgotten she was still holding in order to bring the mug to her lips. She seemed more relaxed now, the awful panic of hopelessness and shame creeping in having dissipated slightly.

“So, do you think we’re ready to make a full statement, or?” He trailed off slightly, looking from Emma to you. You looked to the girl, letting the silence continue for as long as necessary, giving the girl the opportunity to make her own decision. You knew her ability to say yes or no had already been taken from her at least once that day, and you weren’t about to do it again.

“Yes, I’m ready to talk now” Emma seemed to sit up a little in her seat, lifting her head higher in her decision.

“Okay, great. I’ll be taking it from you, if that’s okay? We can try to find a female officer if you’ll be more comfortable.” Brett added, pulling the lone chair from the corner of the room to the table in order to sit in between them.

“No, that's fine. But, could Ana stay, please?” Emma’s eyes shifted to yours, and the subtle plea held within them was noticeable, even if you couldn’t feel the emotion rolling off of her.

“That’s okay with me, If Miss Johnson-”

“Of course” You spoke to the room, and then to Emma. “I’ll stay.”

And so you did.

You stayed and listened as Emma spoke of what happened early that morning, when she had been finishing a night shift at around 5am. What had happened when the sky was still dark and Hell’s Kitchen still shrouded in shadows as she made the short walk through back streets towards a bus route. As she had been grabbed, attacked by rough hands who pulled her into an alleyway. You felt fear, panic rising in bubbles from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat. And so you leant forward, taking the girl’s shaking hand in yours when she’d faltered over her retelling, stopping to catch her breath through tears, the emotions intensifying as she worked to calm them. A subtle nudge from your mind, some quiet ringing in your own ears, and you saw as Emma’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, her rapid breaths slowing and stabilising, allowing her to continue on. You offered her a weak smile in encouragement.

There were many times in your life where you had hated the fact that you were capable of this. When things had become overwhelming when you were younger, when emotions would feel like they were strangling you in some situations.

You hated hospitals, always. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness from so many had twisted painful knots into your stomach, caused your chest to tighten and your eyes to burn, when your Mum was sick, you had avoided the hospital as much as possible, often unable to visit her. your own home, after your mum had died, now that was simply unbearable.

But in rare moments like this, You were grateful for your ability to take some of the girl’s pain away, even if you had to feel it in turn.

Once the difficult conversation was done, Officer Brett Mahoney (you had read his name tag) had stopped the recording and explained to Emma what would happen next. Through this, though, and whilst they left the room and left Emma waiting for whoever she had contacted to come, You’s world was blurred. your body was exhausted, and a deep ache had built within you as you still felt all the painful emotions, now overwhelming your mind after such time. you had to stabilise yourself against the wall in the hallway for a moment whilst Officer Mahoney had gone to talk to an officer, closing your eyes to wait for the momentary dizziness to pass.

Hearing your name made you open your eyes, stand up straighter to face Officer Mahoney.

“Miss. Johnson, thank you for coming down.” His face was serious but the warmth shone through his eyes, as well as his feelings of appreciation, which washed over You like a hot shower, a momentary recess from the dark and cutting emotions you still had swirling within your. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but you really managed to calm her down. She was a mess before, understandably. I don’t know if we would have gotten that statement until morning otherwise. Gives us a much better chance of finding the guy”.

“It’s no bother, I’m happy to do it” You sent a smile at him, your head slowly returning to functioning more capably. And as much as it did take a lot out of you, dealing with the overwhelming emotions of these difficult situations and the police station in general, you really were happy to do it.

“We’re getting a lot of similar cases at the minute” He shook his head at that and a grimace came on You’s face. you knew that, you’d had to do this for far more people lately. “It would be useful to have you there in future.”

A wave of nausea passed over you as another rush of panic and grief washed over you. You stole a glance back to the room you’d just been in, only a few feet away, and you realised you needed to get as far away from it as possible. So you reached your hand into the pocket of your jacket and quickly picked up your card, handing it to Brett with a forced smile.

“Call me here if you ever need someone again” You spoke before lifting your bag on your shoulder and turning to head towards the door, as quickly as you could without causing alarm. On the way out you felt a mixture of anger, grief, happiness, and then some more fear thrown in for good measure, all flowing out of the people sitting in the station.

Once you reached the large entrance doors, finally pushing outside into the cool air, you breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Your hands anxiously patted at your thighs, leaning your whole upper body forward as you shut your eyes, willing your brain to just calm. The emotions within you started to simmer down, as the outside air filled your lungs, it seemed as you exhaled a lot of the pain went with it, and you welcomed that calmer feeling, though some of the dizziness remained.

You hadn’t always been able to do this. As a kid you could remember people praising your empathy, a kind warm child who always wanted to make people feel better, so you supposed maybe it had always lived inside of you. Not that you really understood what ‘it’ was, but it was as you got a little older that it really started. As you started hitting teenage years, it was… overwhelming.

As other kids started being aware of themselves; feeling emotions more deeply, feeling embarrassment, starting to explore romantic interests - You felt it all, except not only for yourself. You supposed one of the first times you realised what was happening to you wasn’t normal was in 8th grade. A girl had come into class after a couple days away, her eyes looked a little lifeless, dark circles and redness that indicated she had been crying, but none of the other 13 year olds seemed to notice this, but You did, because as she walked into the room a pit opened at the bottom of your stomach, seemingly making room for the dark horrific feeling of a sad pain mixed with guilt, fear, hopelessness and anger to enter, taking You’s breath away. As it turned out, the girl had lost her father. That was the first time you had known what grief felt like, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing it was 5:45pm, you’d spent far more time in the police station than you had expected to, and it was time for you to call it a day. You mostly worked alone, the card you handed over simply stating your name, and a description of Emotional counselling/Advocate/Representative to try and encompass the range of things you did for people. In reality this was everything from working with somebody to calm their nerves before giving a large presentation to, what you did far more often, coaching people who were scared and traumatised giving statements and later testifying in court. You were also part of a company who provided advocates to those who were vulnerable in any legal proceedings or meetings with law enforcement, but often once you had worked with somebody, you handed them your personal card, as agencies tended to pay jack shit.

You had desperately wanted to find any way you could put this curse some would call a gift to use, to try and help people if you could. You had too much experience of not being able to help people, especially the ones you loved, which was still eagerly eating away at you.

Near the station was a coffee shop you’d been to a few times before or after similar trips, and as much as caffeine may not help the banging headache that you had building, in that moment you really didn’t care.

On your short walk to the shop, the fluttering of different feelings inside you that you’d grown used to continued. Somebody on the phone was clearly in love, a warmth spreading through you as you pushed past the woman smiling at whoever she was talking to. Another was stressed, walking with purpose and tension in his shoulders which had passed through to you for a moment. You shook your head, willing yourself to try to tune it out for the moment.

You reached the shop, and headed to join the queue of people also craving their caffeine fix.

You browsed the menu as you took shuffling steps as the line kept moving up, your eyes falling on a sweet caramel filled coffee, your heart tugging towards it. When you stepped up to the counter, however, you ordered a large black coffee. You had a guilty pleasure of sickly sweet coffee, however your life wasn’t so much about what you wanted anymore.

You took a large gulp of the bitter and hot liquid that scalded your throat slightly, but it was better than feeling the remnants of the acidic feeling of panic you’d felt there all afternoon.

Back at your one bedroomed, simple apartment You had chucked your coffee cup into the bin, your body now slightly electrified by the caffeine content, of which you were glad. You expected the night ahead of you may be a long one, and the more awake you were for it, the better.

Grabbing your laptop, you placed it on your rectangular coffee table, taking a seat on the somewhat battered hard leather couch. You then pulled the laptop onto your lap, pressing the power on button.

Once the light finally flickered on and the screen illuminated, you opened up a document you had, very cleverly you thought, entitled Mom’s recipes. Scrolling past the few simple recipes you’d stolen from the Food Network, you came to the page on which you were keeping the information you had gathered. You bit your lower lip as your eyes darted back and forth to scan the things you had previously written.

There was only just under a page of short sentences, but it was a better position than you had been in 6 months ago, so you would take it.

“Daniel - Previous chef at Le Frère Juste restaurant had been known to have fallen into the criminal network of Hell’s Kitchen, believed to be due to a substance abuse problem Mr.-”

You stopped reading that particular sentence, which was a quote from a police report you had obtained a couple months back through means that some would possibly frown upon, including the police that it came from, which meant that perhaps it wasn’t entirely legal. What you had been more interested in was the name attached to said report. One Officer Jenkins, who you had spent time trying to track down for more information, but was so far unsuccessful.

You weren't empty handed, however.

At the beginning was the hardest, not knowing where to look for information,how to recognise the snippets of clues that could lead to more. But once you had finally gotten one name, you’d tumbled into another, then another. you should’ve been more shocked to discover the dark, tangled web of criminal factions that underpinned Hell’s Kitchen, but having lived here since you were 6 years old, you’d already seen (and felt) much of the darkness that shrouded Hell’s Kitchen.

The names you had gathered were few, but you were hopeful one of them could provide you with information you needed. So far you had only approached one of the men on your list, who had been unable to give you any information about Daniel or what he was involved with before he had died. You had half expected that however, having picked what you presumed to be the weakest first, to test whether you would be capable of approaching them, if you could use your ability in the right way to cause them to fear you enough to hand over information. Information you may not have gotten, but the sight of the guy running away at full speed once you’d lightened your effect on him certainly improved your confidence in the matter.

You had attended some form of fighting sport since you were a teen on and off, completing a couple years of boxing, some karate, kickboxing also. You’d figured out that punching, kicking, generally throwing yourself at things in some way was a great method for releasing some of the intense emotions pent up inside you that spilled out from everyone else into you. However, you were not technically a fighter of any kind, so 6 months ago when you’d decided this was something you would have to do, for Daniel, you’d started taking self defence lessons, and then deciding you wanted something a little more on the offensive, you’d started one-on-one kickboxing. Of course, you hoped to be successful enough at using your ability against people, but you weren't stupid, and knew you were getting yourself into something dangerous, and thought it best not to rely on simply scaring gang members into not killing you.

Even with trembling hands, you thought, surely a gun shot would eventually be on target.

Tonight, however, you were hoping for a more successful night. you eyed the second name on your list, and the information you had gained on where this Alex Peters would be this evening by doing some, as some may say, light stalking of Alex a couple of nights earlier this week. you’d known his favourite bar hangout, and after frequenting there many times, you finally got lucky and spotted him at the start of the week, and now you knew he was going to be meeting with some others tonight in Hell’s Kitchen.

Planning on getting him alone, and asking him what he knew about Daniel, you slipped into your darker, more athletic clothing hoping to blend into the shadows. Once you had what you needed, including a small pen knife and mace on your keys, the only physical offensive weapons you had, the last thing you did before you left was pull up your dark hood over your head.

The air in Hell’s Kitchen was cool as an inky darkness had fallen over the sky, illuminated only by the light pollution spilling out of New York City. You sat crouched on a fire escape, one you’d had to wrestle with a pull-down ladder in order to get up on to. It provided you the perfect vantage point to watch what was happening below. You held a small digital camera in your hand, nothing special since you weren't exactly rolling in cash, however it took better quality pictures than your phone did. you weren't exactly sure why you were collecting photos of the criminal rings you had been tipped off to, or what you may use them for, but it made you feel like you were doing something.

Down below, you were watching 5 men interact. One of these was the guy who’s name you’d been given, with a possible connection to Daniel: That was Alex Peters, a relatively short man with a shaved head and tattoos littering his large, muscular arms and seeping on to his neck. Typically exactly what you’d expect from some sort of intimidating muscle man for a gang. Great, You thought, you weren't exactly looking forward to trying to get information from him.

The others seemed to be a mix of associates of Alex and another group. They were discussing something in tones too hushed for you to be able to make out what they were saying, but considering the fact they were a bunch of criminals attached to everything from drugs to murder, you’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything good.

They stood within a half decrepit building, either a warehouse or an old multstorey car park of which only metal bones remained, You weren't sure, but either way the damage, which was presumably a result of The Incident, made for a great hotspot for criminal activities, but also thankfully allowed you a great view from your vantage point.

Alex started to split from the rest of the pack, and your attention peaked, quickly placing away your camera into the small over shoulder bag you had, standing yourself up, a little, in preparation.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shouting back to the others whilst he walked in the opposite direction to where they were headed towards a car trunk.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and you started to move. your footsteps light and you shimmied yourself back down the ladder you’d used to climb up in the first place. you could hear your own heart beating loudly in your ears, your chest thudding as you tried to control your breath before approaching this man. For somebody with the ability to manipulate somebody else’s emotions, you sure could struggle with your own sometimes.

You pulled your hood over your head even further, more as a comfort action than anything else. Alex had rounded the corner of a half broken down wall, You watching the light from his cigarette as you circled round in the shadows, crouching hidden behind a large metal waste bin as you ran over and over in your head what was about to happen. You would approach as quickly as possible, the minute he turned the opposite direction and then… Well you hoped that some muscle memory from your far too few kickboxing lessons and the somewhat unpredictable emotional manipulation powers would come into clutch in the moment.

In the distance, there was the loud sound of the other men, clattering of metal as they looked through their trunk and laughed together, but you couldn’t hear that. The world around had slipped away, a dull pressure building in your ears that made everything around your seem slightly slower, it built further as Alex Peters pulled his old phone from his pocket, his attention now turned away from your direction, and the fullness in your ears seemed to suddenly pop, and then everything was moving fast again; too fast.

In a swift movement, you stood to your feet, and gliding steps took you suddenly right to where Alex stood. He started to turn towards you, a breath of an almost word leaving his mouth as he instinctively raised his arm to push you away, but you stepped back, and threw your knee up quickly, your full body weight behind you as you jutted it into his stomach, winding him.

“What the F-” Alex’s breathless words came out quickly, but you couldn’t have him alerting the other men to your presence, because then you’d seriously be screwed, so you quickly reached your hand out to his shoulder, and let an intense jolt of fear out of yourself.

The man before you went rigid, confusion seeming to pass his face before a look of terror enveloped it. You had felt scared more than enough times in your life, and still carried enough of that around to pull it from yourself and throw it into him. So that’s what you did.

A continuous pressure of terror sent between two minds, and soon it was easy enough for you to grip him harder, bringing your other hand to his opposite shoulder, shoving him back against the brick wall.

“Alex Peters.” your voice came out more gruff than you’d ever normally hear yourself sound. It was laced with anger, and presumably adrenaline, but you had to keep it quiet. His stuck wide eyes darted back and forth between yours and the vice-like grip of your hands. He seemed to try to speak, but was unable to, so you continued. “I’m going to give you a name. And you are going to tell me what you know.”

He just looked at you, so you moved your hand to his throat, reaching deeper within yourself to channel more intense feelings into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he gave a quick nod, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Daniel, Daniel Johnson. Do you kno-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as your adrenaline fueled trance was suddenly broken by the clashing sound you heard from just past the wall. you whipped your head towards the sound. Your concentration was broken, your mind losing its grip on the channelling emotions for just a moment. But it was long enough for Alex Peters to regain some of his composure, clearly finding his voice enough to shout out, and push you backwards, causing you to stumble over your own legs.

Your eyes were back on him just in time to see his still shaking fist coming towards you, ringing in your ears a moment later as you were too late to fully avoid his hand connecting with the side of your temple. you doubled over for a moment, and suddenly the nerve endings in the front of your face exploded in pain, his knee having connected directly with your nose. you leant back against the metal you originally hid behind, the coolness aiding the heat burning through you. You mustered up the adrenaline to lift yourself up, going after him.

However, as your fingers were just grasping his jacket to pull him backwards, your eyes focused ahead and saw that the other men were now approaching. your fuzzy mind had only enough time to pull into focus one word; Shit.

All of a sudden, with the distant sound of a soft thud, there was another figure standing before you. In the dim light, it seemed like just a shadow of a man. But all of a sudden, one of the men was on the floor, and the others were now focused on a new target.

The new development didn’t keep your attention long though, with the others now running to throw punches at the shadow figure, you could turn back to Alex and throw your arms at him again.

You grabbed his forearm, and let your mind kick into action in a way that was becoming more practised, more perfected. you threw your body weight at him, stumbling you both back against the brick wall, Alex’s back thudding roughly against it at which he let out a small cry.

“Daniel Johnson, tell me.” Your voice was rushed, desperation sneaking through into your tone, your need for answers burning at your already gravelly throat. His eyes however were focused to his right, where over his shoulder, the other men he’d been with were either choosing to run or being beaten to the ground. His fabricated terror seemingly having found a new perpetrator in the shadow man. And he fought back against you, clearly desperate to join his fellow cowards in escape. You were pushed backwards once again, your smaller frame at your disadvantage, and for a moment your breath caught in your throat, the flash of dark metal catching your eye, the gun in Alex’s hand being lifted up towards you, but almost instantly, Alex disappeared from before you.

You could feel your shaky breaths coming back, faster than usual, the quickened beats of your heart in your ears at full volume again. The gun was gone from Alex’s hand when you looked back to him, and instead he was being hit swiftly around the head with it, knocking him sideways. you watched as the shadow of a man grabbed Alex by the neck, his other hand clasped into a fist, quickly connecting with the side of Alex’s temple. Once. Twice. A third hit, and Alex’s eyes had fallen closed, his body grew limp, and it fell to the floor as the man released his hold on his neck.

For a moment you just stood there, watching the back of the man clad all in black, your quick and shallow breaths seemingly mirroring his as his tight shoulders heaved up and down in steady rhythm. For a moment, he just stood there also. Still, unmoving.

Slowly, he turned around to face you. You weren’t sure how you were meant to feel, having seen this man just take out 5 or more men in the space of a couple minutes, standing alone in an alleyway with him, but the large amount of adrenaline was clearly still coursing through your veins because you didn’t take much notice to how you should feel.

What you did feel in that moment, though, was a deep seated rage. you hadn’t the functioning brain power in that moment to ponder whether that emotion was bubbling up inside of you or flooding out of the man before you.

You watched him as he seemed to consider you for a moment, his head twitched to the side, and you tried to study him also, but the majority of his face was covered by black cloth. You took a momentary glance over his all black attire, the thin material splayed across his thick torso severely lacking in protection. Before he had the chance to say anything, the thick and red hot rage was clawing at her throat to be verbalised.

“What the hell.” Your voice was gravelly, pitched low as you stood in some sort of standoff with this shadow of a man. You couldn’t see his facial expression, only the slight tick in his jaw as he slowly cocked his head in the other direction.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep. It was rough and came from deep in his chest, which was still rising and falling in rapid respiration. You simply narrowed your eyes at him, reasonable thought and any sense of self preservation clearly out of the window with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“I said, what the hell, man” You lifted a hand to your hair, roughly pushing away the wisps of it that had fallen in front of your face. “I was just about to- well, whatever, but you jump in here and ruin it.” Your voice was somewhat hectic.

With Alex Peters having run off, your chance of getting some more information about Daniel had gone with him, and at that moment, all of your negative feelings about that outcome were being filtered and thrown straight at the man before you. It seemed those feelings were mostly anger.

His lips seemed to press into an even more grim line, as he shook his head in a movement ever so slight, it may have been a subconscious reflex in his disagreement.

“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did then you’d most likely be dead right now.” He stated matter of factly, causing you to scoff.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Your hands rested upon your hips, trying to hide the way they still shook slightly from the man before you, an attempt to exude confidence, despite the way your heart rate was still racing.

“I’m not sure I would call having a gun pointed to your head, handling yourself, exactly.” Although his lips remained in a line, his voice still grim, it gained the slightest lilt of teasing to it, and flames of annoyance built up in your chest, escaping in the way of a groan of exasperation.

“I would have been perfectly fine, without you showing up and chasing away my- That guy.” Words flew from your mouth a little quicker than you could filter them, realising you probably shouldn’t be telling details of your plans to the stranger in front of you.

“Sure you would.” His voice and the feelings that flew off of him held no ounce of truth. “You need to be more careful, what are you doing out here trying to talk to these guys?” His head cocked to the side once against, an almost questioning taunt to his positioning.

His near chastising tone brought a laugh from your lips.

“What’s it to you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a small step back from him, looking him up and down from clothed face down to a tough black boot, and it clicked for you where you'd seen this shadow man before. You drew in a sharp breath.

The Man in Black.

You’d seen the papers as you walked past the stands, you’d seen the news and heard local radio all talking about this Man in Black. A vigilante sort, who seemed to be travelling around Hell’s Kitchen and regularly beating the shit out of people.

“Well, I’m just trying to-” He started again, less gravel to his voice now he seemed to have calmed a bit, but you cut him off before he could impart his opinion on to you.

“Stop it. I know who you are” He stilled for a moment, taking you in as you purposely rolled your shoulders back, standing a little taller before him, still feeling those sparks of rage flickering. “The Man in Black” You added emphasis to his given title with the lilt of sarcasm in your voice clear.

“I don’t need to take advice from some vigilante, going around and spreading violence. You have no idea what I’m doing, who I am,” For some reason you hadn’t quite realised, a lot of vitriol was building into your voice as you addressed the man in black. Thinking of the many people you’d heard of him having fought. The people he’d hurt. How was he to know if the people he fought deserved it? What if it was somebody just caught up with the wrong people. Someone like Daniel. “You’ve screwed things up for me here tonight, I have a banging headache from being punched, and also knee-d actually, in the face, and now no information, so thank you very much, Man in Black, but I think this is where I’ll be bidding you goodnight.

His lips parted slightly, which was just visible to you under the dim glow of distant street lights down the alley. It looked like he was about to speak, but before he could you heaved your bag further up your shoulder, a wince as you jolted your head with your movement, and spun on your heel.

“You’re hurt…” His gruff voice trailed off, but you simply waved a hand in his direction, exhaustion suddenly pulling at your mind, and knowing vehemently that you did not need saving by some guy in a black mask.

You continued to retrace your steps towards the ladder that led you back to your vantage point and a way home, empty handed. However, the deep voice stopped you again whilst you were only a few metres away.

“Wait.” You tilted your head slightly back in his direction. “The name you said, Daniel Johnson was it-”

Anger shot through your veins, your voice coming out as more of a growl. “Don’t say that name” You simply said, watching as the man in black stood still, his lips still parted in question. But you simply turned and walked away, having had enough of the night.

Your legs dragged heavy beneath you, feeling like logs as you battled each step. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, every step felt more difficult, and exhaustion was truly trying to pull you under the whole way back to your flat.

As you walked down dark back alleys and hidden streets, you tried not to think about the fact that you’d had a gun pulled on you this evening, the cool metal of it still a phantom feeling against the skin of your head. Tried not to think about the fact that you could have died, and that for all of that, you still had no new information, thanks to the Man in Black.

A couple of blocks from the location of your night's altercation, you paused, a heavy stone in your chest as you lent your head back against the cold and rough brick of an alley wall. A couple of shaky breaths escaped you, and much to your dismay, now that you were alone, surrounded by nobody’s emotions but your own, a tear slid from between your lashes down and over your cheekbone. You shook your head, and pushed off the wall with a kick of your feet, desperate to get yourself home.

You pulled your jacket closer around your body, your hood still tight over your head, and walked quickly through the darkened and unsafe streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, in the direction of your apartment. You kept your head down, trying your best to avoid any trouble. You didn’t think you had it in you for another fight of any kind this evening.

You weren’t aware, however, that were you to encounter one, the man in black would be right there with you.

#matt murdock #fan fiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #here goes nothing #sending this out into the ether

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parad-ice-lostandfound · 8 months

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Prompt: Just some things about the Ramshackle Prefect and Scarabia's vice-housewarden <3

Pairing: Jamil Viper × Yuu / Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff mostly, a little bit of angst

TW: NA (for now, please let me know if I should add trigger warnings and for what ^^)

Jamil is no stranger to looks of awe and envy. A large part of it is owed to his status as a servant of the Asim family, as well as being Kalim's closest friend and retainer. But when the Prefect looks at him, they look at him in awe of his skills. Of how he expertly manages to tackle every obstacle Kalim unwittingly puts in his way. Of how his hands work quickly and efficiently in the kitchen as he stirs and mixes and makes food for the entirety of Scarabia. Of how he manages to give his best (despite the limitations set upon him by his status) in everything he does. For them, his status as a servant matters little; his hardwork is seen for what it is, and appreciated genuinely.

Jamil takes good care of his looks. As Kalim's retainer, he is required to look after his appearance, lest even the slightest of mistakes bring scrutiny upon the Asim family. The gold trinkets braided into his hair are a symbol of his status and servitude, of pride and resentment, yet he finds that resentment slowly die down as the Prefect plays with the accessories, batting at them with all the curiosity and wonder of a little kitten. His voicing of the fact only gets him a playful pout from them, which leaves him a little weak in the knees and a little short of breath. He thanks his lucky stars that they are both sitting on his bed, for surely his traitorous legs would have given away underneath him had he been standing.

Jamil stays up at night, quite a lot. His responsibilities do not end when the Asim heir finally falls asleep; for some reason, they seem to increase. Between his own studying, making rounds of the dorm so that no unruly dorm members (or housewardens) sneak off in the middle of the night, and countless other tasks, it is a miracle that he even gets time to rest his ever watchful eyes. Yet he smiles each time the Prefect stumbles over to him, half-asleep as they tug at his arms and mumble that he needs to sleep and that they are not taking no for an answer (not that he would say no to such an adorable request) and goes along with what they say.

Jamil is not one to bare his heart to just anybody. It takes time and dedication to peel back all his layers, his self doubt, to truly get him to speak about everything and anything that is bothering him. Yet sometimes, sometimes things are too difficult to talk about, and Jamil is too tired to think about them. So when the Prefect opens their arms, inviting him in their soft and safe embrace, he obliges with a soft murmur that is his thanks to them. They rub his back, and Jamil cannot stop himself from melting under their wordless yet tender care, holding onto his beloved Prefect with all the strength he can muster in that moment.

Jamil is very perceptive; very little misses his keen gaze. He sees how each incident the Prefect invariably gets roped into takes away a little part of them. The light in their eyes is a little dimmer each time they meet his, and their smiles a little more forced as they gently turn down his enquiries about their health. Each matter resolved, each overblot fought saps their energy and shakes their will, and Jamil knows it is only a matter of time before they fall down like a house of cards. He can see them working themself to the bone, running on fumes and sheer determination to save all those who had endeared themselves to the Prefect. So he insists, borderline begging even, to take care of them. Even for just one day, one hour. He just wants to be there for them, the way they always are for him.

Jamil shows his care in subtle ways in public. Carrying an extra lunch for the Prefect, sitting next to them in class, helping them with their studies, all these are ways he shows his favor to them. In private, he whispers declarations of love and devotion to them, reveling in how flustered they get even as his own heart thumps loudly inside his chest. He stumbles over his words when they carefully hold one of his braids up to their lips, leaving a kiss on the dark strands while maintaining eye contact with him; a silent declaration more powerful and potent than any of his teasing words.

#twst #here goes nothing #jamil lovers come get your man #blame my period hormones and the firelit sky event for my jamil brainrot <3 #not quite happy with the last few parts but oh well #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst jamil #jamil viper #jamil x reader #jamil x mc #jamil x yuu #jamil x y/n #ice writes #twst writing #my writing

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mushyooms · 7 months

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day 1. dream

#inktober #inktober2023 #HERE GOES NOTHING #first and probably last time i'll attempt it #lots of fanarts incoming!!!#my art #fanart #illustration #saint seiya #saint seiya the lost canvas #the lost canvas #pegasus tenma #alone hades #athena sasha #and a very happy october to you all

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thevulturesquadron · 2 years

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When they’re not babysitting and hunting monsters they go on road-trips, and I think that’s neat. Sometimes, on summer breaks they take the teenagers along as well.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #fanart #myhandslipped #not particularly happy about how this turned out #but eh #here goes nothing

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pascalslvt · 7 months

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Tangled Alliances

Summary: When faced with sickness in your community in an already post-apocalyptic world, it is up to the strained professional partnership of you and Joel Miller to embark in a perilous and difficult journey in order to retrieve life-saving medicine. With your destinies intertwined, shrouded in tension, you confront the unforgiving challenges of your environment together, gradually forming an unexpected bond. Will that be enough?

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader, f/m

rating: 18+, minors dni

series warnings:, pre!ellie, during outbreak, set in TLOU 2022, age gap (28 & 52), swearing, mentions of violence, also actual violence, mentions of sickness, heavy angst...., fluff, trial & tribulations, severe weather, a lot of fucking animosity and hostility, enemies to lovers ???, infected people, tension...TENSION!!!, bickering, copious amounts of alcohol, inebriation, y'all don't get along...but y'all also have to, smut!!!!...a semi-slow burn, anxiety, exhaustion, NO USE OF Y/N.

chapter warnings: Mentions of backstory (involving the death of readers parents), bickering, bad langauge, tess is mother, mentions of sickness and death, aclohol, sharing a tent (wink wink), cheeky morning wood, just a sprinkle of smut if you squint its not really smutty but not completley clean, bad luck ??, tension. lots of it, intrusive improper thoughts.

word count ≈ 8,3k Estimated reading time: 37 minutes, 4 seconds (225 wpm)

a/n: This is the first part of a series i am writing!! I haven't actually written fanfiction since i was like...15, so be very very kind and gentle and patient with me because i am literally just a girl.....i have dusted off the cobwebs & busted my writing out of its retirement to create a story to quench my current joel miller obession. This storyline is actually inspired by a dream i recently had and i am very excited to reeeeally get into the series as i have a lot of plans that i cannot share with you right now.... also sorry if the tags are wierd i gennuinely have no idea what the fuck to write. Part two will come pretty shortly (don't get used to it) because after i awoke from the dream i literally wrote almost 20k words in one sitting so im splitting it up and giving this one some time to see if people are even interested in reading more...please enjoy!!!!!!

Part One: Hostile Beginnings

You were nearly seven years old when the outbreak started. To you, the world crumbled before your feet in what seemed like an instant - shattering the very ground on which you stood. One day after school, you saw your own mother's jugular be ripped straight out of her neck from the mouth of your neighbor, an old and fragile woman who used to babysit you from time to time. Before running away in fear, you saw your mother bleed out, right there on the lawn you used to play in. You never saw your father that day, and neither did you ever again. You always accepted that your father's fate was that he most likely died in that little cubicle he worked in. Or that he now spends the rest of his life infected. Whichever the case, it doesn’t really matter to you, you don’t think about him anymore.

You got away with your life by the skin of your teeth that day. That little girl ran until her tiny legs could carry her no more. Your English teacher, Theresa, had found you in a ditch, sobbing. You had been wearing the same outfit you did that day in class, a purple shirt with a flower on it, along with some blue pants. Theresa didn't have the heart to leave the little girl behind, so she took you under her wing.

Throughout the years, Therese - or ‘Tess’ as you liked to call her - taught you how to survive this very unfortunate world disaster. While you were still young, she taught you to crawl into small holes to retrieve food or water, and to hide whenever you felt something was wrong. She taught you to trust your instincts. She taught you to be resilient. Resourceful. In later years, you were taught to use a gun, to mend knifes, to defend yourself - how to navigate this apocalypse safely.

When you got older, Tess made use of you in her line of work. Smuggling. And you were good

This is how you got to know the man named Joel Miller. A cynical, gruff man of very few words. But, he always got the job done. You and Joel didn’t interact much. Now that you think about it, you hadn’t met him more than.. what? 5 times before today? even less so had you spoken with him. Tess didn’t want you to work alongside Joel as she believed his methods could sometimes be…taking unnecessary risks. He could sometimes be reckless. And you were not a risk she was willing to take. Not yet.

Ever since finding that shattered little girl all those years ago, Tess always felt an unwavering, deep sense of responsibility to keep you safe. She owed it to you, and she owed it to your parents. You were now a full-grown woman, 28 years old - and Tess knew you had a strong head on her shoulders. With the years, the fierce overprotective nature gradually softened. She gradually unfolded her wings of trust, and sent you out on more and more jobs. But, it wasn’t until recently that she felt comfortable enough to let you work with Joel. Nothing big, none spanning more than a day or three. To her dismay (but yet also relief), the two of you ended up ultimately proving to be an incredibly efficient team. However, the two of you could not get along even if your very life depended on it.

It was a silent alliance. It had to be. Otherwise, you’d end up getting on each other's nerves and damn near kill one another. Joel always made it incredibly clear that you weren’t friends - he wasn’t there for pleasantries, he was there to finish a job. Not that you objected. The less condescending shit you had to hear him say, the better. You didn’t care much, either way. You were a professional - after all, you had done this since you were a child. This was your reality. You never had much choice.

Lately, a lot of people in your community have fallen very, very sick. It is some sort of pulmonary bacterial infection that starts off with a fever, and will leave you coughing up blood a couple of months later. A slow killer, but a killer nonetheless. Some of the older folk have already started dying.

“No, absolutely not, Valerie” you heard Tess’s voice come from downstairs. You just happened to walk past to hear it. “It’s way too risky”. These words piqued your interest. “She is our best option, and you damn well know that” Valerie, a woman you live and work with says, a stern undertone in her voice. You slowly walks towards them, walking down the stairs without making a creak, eavesdropping.

“This would take months to complete..” Tess sighs, adding in, “We don’t even know if we have that kind of time, folk’ are already dyin’. We don't even have no idea how heavily surveilled it is”

“Do we have a choice? We’ll run out of our own supply within a month if we’re lucky. They will all die”

Tess is quiet, you could almost hear her thinking if you listened hard enough. You enter the room, “What’s going on?” you ask

Tess stands still and shares a look with Valerie before looking at you, sighing and crossing her arms. “We have received intel that there is a massive supply of vital medical equipment as well as medication, medication that we need. It’s In a settlement controlled by some sort of… faction. They call themselves the ‘reclaimers’. Nasty bunch. We need the medication, and well.. If our sources are correct, which they haven't failed us before, it’d be enough to not only cure the folk round here; but we could also sell for an enormous profit. We could make a lot of money. Maybe buy a new truck. Supplies. Guns….”

“I’m in.” you say, without hesitation, cutting her off. Tess shakes her head, she opens her mouth to speak, but you interrupt her before she can “I can manage myself, you made sure of that.”

Valerie looks at Tess with a ‘I told you so’ look. “You’d have to walk for, probably, months on end just to get there and back. They’re west, somewhere in Montana, located deep into the forest. You have never been on a mission that lengthy, and it's fucking cold as shit - and it's only going to get worse”

“What’s our other option here? Let people die?” you ask, and pause. They stay silent. “I wouldn’t accept if I didn’t know I was capable of handling something like this, Tess….”

You look at each other for a long time. She knits her eyebrows together, somberly, and shakes her head. She doesn't know if she can let you do anything like this. Not because she doubts your ability - rather, she cannot get herself to put you in that type of danger.

“You heard the woman…” Valerie says smugly.

“Fine”. Tess says, slightly annoyed and probably feeling very protective. “I need to stay here and take care of some things, keep track of the radio and such.. Valerie needs to tend to the people here. It…It would be you and Joel.”

This takes you slightly aback. On one hand, even though Tess might think his methods are unconventional - she trusts him, and you trust her. Besides, you have worked professionally very well before and always get the job done. But on the other hand…it’s Joel fucking Miller.

“Months on a job with Joel Miller? Fuck me…” You scoff. Tess’s lips curl into a slight smile evidently trying to hold back her laughter. She knows the kind of disdain you feel for him.

“There’s no one else I’d trust to send you away with on a mission like this. Except for me, of course” Tess says, leaning against a wall. “Are you still in, even if it’s him?” “Well.. i don’t really have a choice now, do i?” you say, and they chuckle. “When would we leave?”

Tess pauses. “You’d have to leave tomorrow” she studies your demeanor, waiting for you to opt out. Hoping in a sick, twisted way that you would - since that would mean that you’d be safe. You don’t hesitate. “He doesn’t know…yet. But, I know him. He would not turn this job down. Besides, he owes us too much, he can’t”

You nod. “Well…he’ll probably be as pleased with working with me as I am with him” you say, rolling your eyes.

“It’s about time the two of you get over that little feud of yours” Valerie interjects, you send her a warning look

“Ain’t my fault he’s fucking unbearable” You point at her, gesticulating your annoyance already brewing by the mere thought of him. She shrugs.

“I’ll call him on the radio - let him know.” Tess says.

“With her?!” You hear Joel’s voice boom down from the hallway, annoyance evident on his voice. ‘yup. i was right’ You think to yourself, chuckling as you’re eavesdropping from the other room. They start start walking towards the kitchen, where you are stood. When he sees you, he nearly rolls his eyes, stopping in his tracks. “Well. Looks like we’ll be partners.”

You smile tight-lipped, nodding and holding back an eye roll of your own - trying your best to be civil. “Seems that way”

“We leave at 8. ‘Expect you to be ready by 7 forty-five” He commands. You nod at his instructions. ‘One minute of a partnership, and he has already taken the leading role. Fucking jackass.’ you think to yourself. “Better get some rest”

“Yeah, no kidding…” You mumble to yourself, sneering. He gives you a warning look. One that says ‘don’t start’.

Knowing there’s no point in furthering this conversation as tensions are already high, and you have months to argue with him, you turn to walk “I’ll go pack then” You announce, turning around.

“And try not to piss me off” Joel says loudly as you walk away. You just hold up your middle finger and leave the room. “Real mature!” He scoffs as he looks at Tess with a look that says ‘can you believe her?’, she just shrugs.

That night you packed all that you would need - supplies, food, weapons, a tent…the everyday outing must haves in the midst of an active apocalypse, also…for the cold. Of course, you are not a total stranger to it, living here in Boston, but you also know that the cold here won't compare to the temperatures you are about to face - as you know walking through the north of the US in late autumn, early winter will not be an easy feat - and in a little tent, at that. It was estimated you would be gone for about a couple of months, at least - which is by far the longest job you’d ever been on. But, it was essential.

That morning you wake up particularly early, to make it a point not to be late. Wouldn’t want to give Joel the satisfaction of berating you. You can already feel yourself wanting to spite him. Tess helped you carry your things down, not that you needed help, rather she felt bad for sending you to do something like this. Capable or not, she had a …. Somewhat motherly instinct for you. She also gave you the map with the places you’re headed, where you’re meeting the informants, where the safehouses are located and so on - and gave you the same rundown as she did for Joel, keeping the both of you informed. You are now stood in the kitchen, with your things in your arms. She paused and looked at you, having trouble finding the words, feeling herself getting choked up by the reality of the situation. Before you can diffuse the fears you see swirling in her head, she holds you tight. “You be real careful of yourself, got it?”

“Yes m’am.” You say, voice slightly strained by the suffocating tight hold she has around you. She lets go of you, and cups one side of your face with her hand, and smiles with glassy eyes. She shakes her head as she takes a step back, as if to snap out of the sentimentality.

“Now go and get that medicine.” she nods, trying to sound emotionless and strong. You nod and turn to walk out the building. “Oh, and… give him a tough time. Joel, I mean” She laughs

“You know I will” You wink, as you finally leave the house. Tess stands there with an awful feeling inside the deepest parts of her. She was meant to be the one to protect you, and here she is; sending you off to a mission where she doesn’t even know the magnitude of the threat it poses to your life. But, it’s too late now. Way too many people are depending on you.

You continue walking out, as you lean against the truck parked outside. You’re not going to drive far with it, only 10-12 hours or so. They wanted to transport it somewhere else to sell (since the ongoing surge of illness has eaten away at your community fund), and since it was on the way Tess figured it would not hurt to cut down the length of the trip just a little bit. You stand there for a while, until you check your clock: ‘7:46am’. You snigger by yourself. Without noticing, Joel was walking towards you, gear in hand

“Right in time, for once” He mumbles.

“You’re the one who is late, Joel” You correctly point out.

“It’s one minute, stop yappin’” He says, walking over to the truck, throwing his stuff into it and getting into the driver's seat, slamming the door. What a cheerful man.

You throw your bag into the car “I don’t understand why you’re the one driving” you mutter, getting into the passenger seat

“You know exactly why. Now shut it before I rip off ‘ya jaw and shove it up ‘ya ass.” He says, matter-of-factly, putting the keys in the ignition, turning it and starting the engine, looking forward.

“Ooh, very kinky, Joel” You say sarcastically, taunting him.

He puts his foot on the clutch, as he shifts the gear. “Keep talkin', and I'll leave ya here.” he says and starts driving.

“If only I’d be so lucky…” You mutter silently, watching out of the window as he pulls out on the narrow road through the tall buildings, keeping away from the major roads as they are heavily used by FEDRA.

“I heard that” He said, pointing at his ear, eyes on the road.

“I’m glad your hearing is working, old man. Gives us a bigger chance of survival” you chuckle

“Old man?” He asks, insulted by what you said. “I'll show ya old man if you don't shut the hell up.”

You roll your eyes, and decide to sit this one out. You know it’s not worth bickering, as you have a long, long road ahead of the two of you. “That’s better” He said after a little while of silence. You roll your eyes once again, deciding with all your will and might not to respond with a snippy comment, as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving him the reaction he so obviously is searching for.

You two drive for hours and hours without saying a word, sitting in the thick tension that is between the two of you. It wasn’t necessarily a comfortable silence, rather a silence that comfortably didn’t mean you had to talk to him. After 7 hours, you can start seeing the shift in the sky, the colors indicating the impending sunset that's occurring.

“Maybe we should find somewhere to find shelter? Suns going down. “ You point out.

“I could work that out myself, thanks” He mutters. “We've still got a few hours left of daylight. Push on.”

“So I’m guessing your plan is that we sleep in the car?” You question, looking at him. He doesn’t leave his eyes from the road.

“Yup.” he says. Well, you couldn’t think of any better plan, to be fair. A truck is not a bad place to sleep given the alternative.

After about an hour or so, the car starts suddenly sputtering. “What the fuck?” Joel mumbles, as he quickly checks around the dashboard to see if there’s any indication as to what’s going on. You look over at him, quizzically. “Fuck!!” He shouts, hitting the steering wheel so hard that it honks, as the car comes to a halt. “That’s just…that’s just fucking great” He says, trying to restart the engine - to no avail.

“So much for your plan on ‘pushing on’” you said, looking out at the quickly darkening sky, mocking him. He looks annoyed at you, as he gets out of the car, to check the hood. When he does, a light amount of smoke seeps out.

Well, that sucks. But, you try to remind yourself that this truck was always going to be a temporary luxury, and you got 8 hours into the 12-hour trip. Oh well, more time with… Joel.. Sigh..

“Engines out” He grumbles, waving the smoke away from his face as he closes the hood again, standing and watching hopelessly at the car with one hand on his hip. “We’re not too far from the trucks drop off spot, guess we’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

“So we just leave it here?” You ask

“Got a better idea? We’re in the middle of nowhere, nobody gonna steal it.” He answers.

“It’s your head, miller…” You mutter. He chooses not to answer to your snark.

“I say we still sleep in the car. It’s better than a tent.”

You nod in agreement “In the middle of the road?” You ask, looking at an already annoyed Joel. He grimaces, whilst he mocks what you just said

“No, you idiot, we’ll have to push it” he stated, looking around the road to see a good spot, and ended up pointing at a spot by some trees a couple meters from the road. “And it ain't an easy feat. Let’s see if you got the strength to push a two tonne vehicle, little miss”

You shrug. How bad can it be? Joel gets in the car and makes sure its gear is in neutral, as the both of you stand at the back of the car, starting to push. It takes some time, and Joel was right that it was, indeed, not an easy task. By the time you got the car by the trees you’re both catching your breath, Joel sweating profusely

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You say between breaths, holding your hands on your hips. He’s bent over in exhaustion.

“Oh bite me” He hisses. You try not to laugh. “We’ll have to leave it here, try to radio Tess somewhere along the way, so they can pick it up - at least before someone steals it”

You nod. It’s gotten dark, it’s time to sleep. So, you climb into the truck and start leaning back your seat to get as comfortable as you can. Joel does the same.

“So…” You say, breaking out the map. “We’ll have to recalibrate… it’ll be…what I'm guessing… 2 to 3 weeks to walk to our first meetup spot with the informants.” I sigh, already tired.

Joel nods. “I'll carry ya if ya get tired” He teases, looking over at you as he lays back in his seat.

“Right back at you princess” You answer without a beat, changing the pins in the map, folding it back and lying on your side, away from Joel. He smirks at your answer.

“Y’sure got a mouth on you” He says.

You roll your eyes as you close your eyes “night”, you mumble, ready to sleep.

“G'night” he lies back on the seat and put his hat over his face before falling asleep.

The morning after, you wake up in a stir. The car was very cold, and the sun was just rising. You look around, and find that Joel is not in the car. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, and realize he’s popped the hood to check if there's any way to salvage this car. He sees you move around your head and peaks on the side of the hood

“g’morning, darlin’” he smirks. Is he more annoying than usual or is it because you just woke up? You can't decide. You furrow your eyebrows. He chuckles to himself at how displeased you seem to be awake. You were, after all, never a morning person. “We gotta get movin’”

“Yeah, yeah..” You mumble, getting out of the car to stretch and go to the backseat to collect all your things. Sleep still in your system, the two of you start walking along the road. After a while, you opt to walking through some hills, as Joel got more and more paranoid of meeting someone on the road. You walked for what must have been…14 hours, only taking a small break to eat something small that Tess had packed, sitting on two different places and not exchanging any words. The sun started setting, the sky turning an orange tinge.

“We better find shelter..come on” He said, looking around and seemingly found a spot not too far away - yet secluded enough to sleep for tonight. He increased his walking pace in a determined manner. You follow along not too far behind. Suddenly he stops dead in his steps.

“Jesus fucking Christ” He whispered to himself, anger and frustration very, very evident in his voice

“What?” You ask, eyeing him a bit worried about his reaction.

“God fucking damn it” He whispers to himself “Dammit - I forgot my tent. We'll have ta sleep in the open. Hope you ain't afraid of the dark…”

“Speak for yourself. I brought mine. I ain’t sharing.” You say, resuming your steps.

“You're a real treat to travel with you know that.” He says, looking at you stood still, frozen by his own frustration as he is kicking himself for forgetting that damn bag.

“I bet I am!” you yell, as you have managed to walk a bit further along than he has. He sulks as he continues walking.

You both decide on a safe spot to make a shelter. Joel and you start instinctively preparing to make a fire and collecting anything that will burn. To his dismay, a light downpour of snowflakes suddenly fall from the sky. You look up and laugh at the sheer irony of the situation, the frustration of the day just piling onto Joel. And it’s only the first day at that. “Ain’t that a bitch, huh, Miller?”

“Gotta be fucking kidding me” He groans. “That’s just great”

The two of you start a fire, and put two cans of soup on it for dinner. He is sitting against a rock, drinking whiskey, looking as happy as you could in his situation (spoiler alert, he is sulking). You are putting up your tent, which you dutifully brought (unlike Joel) and you pause as you catch a glimpse of the sad man who seems to be very stressed with the current predicament he has found himself in. He is visibly freezing his ass off. You feel strangely bad. He can't sleep in this cold…

“Look, miller” you pause, he looks at you. “You’re going to die in this cold. Let’s just share tents. Ain’t nun weird.”

He scoffs, and looks back at the fire, taking a sip of the whiskey “I'm good”

You sigh. “Stop being such a fucking Stoic and get over yourself. If you share your whiskey, I’ll share my tent” you say. Maybe by making a deal out of it, it’ll be easier for him to accept your help, you thought.

He thinks for a while. He weighs out his options, as if there is not only one he can realistically go with - which is to accept your help. “Fine. Half-and-half?”

You nod, somewhat happy that he accepted, yet less happy of the reality - which was that you have to share a tent tonight. “Half and half” You repeat, nodding. You walk towards him and sit next to him.

He gets another cup from his bag and fills it with his cheap, illegally brewed scotch, and passes it to you. “That’ll warm us up nicely” He said. It tastes like piss and firewood.

“Aye” You say. “How did you manage to remember bringing your whiskey, and not your tent?” You ask, with a slight hint of laughter to your voice.

He huffed. “Priorities” He smirked, turning to you.

“Well. I hope you have brought enough to maintain your end of the deal” you say, taking a sip. He silently lifts his bag, emitting a number of clinking noises, entailing he has probably got enough to last him weeks. Maybe a week now that you are involved.

“Seems like an unnecessarily heavy weight to carry” you remark, taking a sip of the strong liquid.

He stays silent for a while. “You’ll understand it soon enough” is all he says. Not knowing what he meant, neither caring all too much, you shrug and kept drinking aside each other in the dark silence. You eat the soup when it’s done, too. You pulled your legs to your chest to maintain more warmth, as it feels as though its getting colder by the minute, a few stray snowflakes falling onto the ground and quickly melting away.

“Didn’t think you were so damn sensitive to the cold” he suddenly said.

“M’not, it’s fucking freezing” you say, breathing out.

“Don't think I don’t see you shivering, princess” he says, with a sly smirk on his mouth

“Right back at you, princess” You say, mocking the way he said it to you. “Don’t fucking call me that ever fucking again, by the way”

“Someone’s a tad touchy, ain’t they?” He laughs, taking a swig from his whiskey

“Shut up, Miller”

“Why? M’igetting on your nerves?” he asks, sarcasm swelling in his voice.

“Always have been” You quickly retort.

“I’d say it’s mutual”

You nod, as you kept drinking. The whiskey has become a lubrication for the regular anguish you’ve felt in the presence of Joel. Now you felt no more than subtly irritated. The drunker you got, the happier you were of the deal you did with him. You kept drinking in silence, until you’ve drained about a quarter of the bottle - which might seem like a little, unless you calculate the amount of food you’ve ingested compared to the whiskey you’ve drank. Your cup is, once again, empty - and you guide the cup towards Joel, who dutifully fills it with more.

“Here ya go, princess” he says sheepishly, and you turn to give him a warning look

“I’m serious Joel, I’ll knock the teeth right out of your mouth if you keep calling me that.” You say, rather aggressively.

“I’d like to see you try” He snorts out.

You decide not to answer, as he is clearly getting a rise out of antagonizing you. You roll your eyes and chug the rest of your cup. So did, Joel.

He, again, filled your cup. “You seem happy I brought the whiskey. Like you could use some of it” He comments

“No shit. I’ve got two to three months on a mission with you. And it’s only the second night” you shrug. “Not to mention that we have to share tents…”

“I ain't that bad” He chuckles.

“You’re drunk” you add.

“So are you” he quickly responds.

You nod, and sit in silence for a while - both, quite drunk. “I’m fucking tired. You tired?”

You feel a bit loopy from all the alcohol, but stand up and agree, walking over to your tent. The closer you get to the tent, the more you realize just how small it really is. I mean, it’s small for just one person, imagine how cramped it is for two? Surely, the both of you cannot fit in there - what the hell have you gotten yourself into? You think to yourself.

Joel walks slowly towards the tent as he watches you look into the tent, worriedly. He looks himself, and the same thought passing your mind right now has suddenly dawned upon his, “Oh, boy….” he mumbled

“Yeah, I know.”. You are both stood there, looking, for a while - until you initiate and climb into the tent, and lie down on the right side - making as much space for Joel’s body as you can.

“This ain't gonna be comfortable, not one bit...” he says, as he lies down next to you in the tent, in a clumsy and stale motion.

Your bodies are uncomfortably pressing together, without there being enough room to move away, nor was there to shuffle to a more spacious yet also non compromising position. You tried lying back to back, as it seemed the natural and least intimate way to lie next to one another, thus facing away from one another. Still then, there wasn’t enough space to spare personal space - not in this tent.

“God this sucks.” you mutter from one side.

“You got that right.” He answers from the other.

You groan, as you try to get comfortable, nudging your elbow into his back in the process. He huffs out of pain. “You're making it worse.”

“Shut up. I’m just trying to get comfortable” You say, feeling an unrest in your body - one that the whiskey was not strong enough to numb.

“So am I” He gets more irritated as you keep nudging into him.

Finally, you settled to lie on your side, facing away from Joel. He takes the newly found empty space and lies with his arms against your back. You groan. “Your arms are hurting my back” he does not seem to care, and stays silent. You finally give into defeat, as the mixture of the sleepiness and alcohol slowly seems to overtake your body and you both fall asleep.

Somewhere at night, you had rolled over. Joel was very warm, so naturally, subconsciously, you drifted closer to the source. With your face against his chest, he was softly awoken by the warm breaths coming out of your mouth, in small snores. He looked down, and saw you sleeping peacefully, right against him. He lied completely still, not sure if he should wake you up. The snores were not loud enough to keep him up, so he presumed that is the price he’ll have to pay to sleep somewhere warm tonight, so he tried closing his eyes and fall back asleep, repeating in his head not to look anymore at you - and just go to sleep.

Suddenly you wake up, the morning after, head plastered against Joel’s chest, with his arm slung around your body, and your arm slung over his shoulder. It felt comfortable and warm….strangely.. Good lying like that, but you didn’t know how to react. It was utterly intimate and had crossed the border to cuddling very long ago. And oh god…is that your saliva on his shirt? Did you drool on his chest?! You were so close to him that you could smell the stench of whiskey on his breath, no less your own bouncing from his chest and back to your nostrils. You were basically on second base with the man, without ever remembering if you fell asleep that way or if you had done it in your sleep. I mean hell, you barely remember getting into the damned tent…’we must’ve gotten very drunk’ you thought to yourself. You must’ve rolled over and not thought about it.

You lie frozen, unsure what to do in this situation. If you jerk too much, you’ll wake him - but if you don’t move… he’ll see what you are seeing as of right now - which is you two in an extremely compromising situation. Maybe you could turn around? But then it would border spooning…curse this god-damn tent!

As if awoken by your thoughts, Joel’s body moves as if he’s waking up - and in a hasty and rushed move, he jerks his arm away from you - as if he just went through the same train of thoughts you did when you woke up. “What the fuck” He groaned, looking at you in an.. Almost disturbed manner.

“Fuck.. Uh, mornin’..” You peep out, embarrassed. Kicking yourself for not acting faster before he woke.

“Morning” he says in a rushed voice as he looks around, slightly panicked. None of you know what to say, an awkward silence hanging over you. He is quick to peel away from you to climb out of the tent. “We gotta get going” he announced.

“Y-yeah” You say, sitting still in the tent, processing the situation. When you have mustered enough strength, you crawl out of the tent too - stretching as you stand up. You pack up and walk alongside each other in silence, might as well have been miles apart. The weight of your unspoken closeness from the previous night's ‘cuddling’ lingers in the air, you were both a bit thrown off, sharing the occasional glances at each other, unsure of how to address what had happened, or whether it was better left unspoken. There wasn’t much to say, to be honest. I mean, what was there to say?

You got quite accustomed to the silence, to hearing nothing but the sound of your footsteps, wet against the humid grass. You’d think that walking for hours on end without the distraction of conversation would be something that would bother you, it proved to do the opposite. Without it, It was as if the world around you had muted its colors and sounds, leaving only the barest minimum of sensory input - which made time somewhat fly by. The aching in your feet and legs slipped to the back of your mind. You wondered if Joel was quiet because he was doing the same.

You also wondered what his thoughts were regarding this morning, and how you woke up. You didn’t talk about it, that’s obvious enough…but, what was he thinking about? Maybe he didn’t think about it at all - it was, after all, innocent, you rationalized. Was he also trying to decipher the mixed emotions you were feeling without giving them too much weight - since that might make them real, after all? You can’t deny just how safe and comfortable you felt, regardless of who it was.

Joel spotted you glancing at him here and there, he was equally aware of the tension. He, too, couldn't shake off the memory; He couldn’t help but to replay the events of last night in his mind, wondering if it was merely a product of shared body heat or something deeper. I mean, he could have just pushed you away…yet the unexpected warmth of your body against his, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you slept, your breath hot against his chest.. It had been an intimate moment, and he couldn’t help but…enjoy it. However, he was as stubborn as ever, unwilling to broach the topic nor delve into the act itself. Instead, he focused on the mission at hand, pushing the awkwardness aside, shaking his head, not wanting to think too much of it either.

As you continued on the journey, the trees began to thin out, and you found yourself standing at the edge of a clearing, the sun going down behind a mountain up ahead. You looked at Joel, who seemingly had the same thought you did - it was time to find shelter. He took the map out of his bag and looked around. “We aren’t too far away from a safe house” he grumbled.

You nodded, taking out a map of your own, trying to help him in the search of said safe house. As you slowly approach the road leading to the building the weather began to change. Dark clouds gather in the sky, and the first few raindrops fall, pelting against your clothes. The urgency of getting under a roof became more apparent, so you quickened your pace.

Your breaths are visible in the cold, damp air, and the water has seemingly seeped into your clothes - leaving you feel colder and heavier. The cold made your thoughts kept circling back to the tent. The unexpected warmth of Joel's body against yours.. ‘God damn it. Get a grip. it's not even day four, and you're losing your mind.’ You thought to yourself.

Finally, you reached the safe house, which wasn’t what either of you had hoped for. It was an abandoned decrepit building, a relic of the world before the outbreak, with a roof that had seen better days. It was a stone building, partially hidden away by the tall unkept grass surrounding it, as well as tall trees huddling around it, vines growing on the walls. It was probably old 20 years ago, let alone now… The building was leaking from the roof and had gaping holes in the walls - making the shelter far from ideal. It offered some protection from the rain, but not much else. It was, however, better than getting drenched in the pouring rain and being exposed to the elements. You closed the door behind you and took a moment to catch your breath, looking around.

“Well.. This is the best we've got for now” He finally muttered as the wind howled through the gaping holes in the walls.

You look around and find it was pretty empty. There wasn’t any furniture, just a chair. Floor filled with scattered garbage and miscellaneous, dusty items from people who have been here before. The water is dripping from your clothes onto the stone floor beneath you, creating a puddle. "We need to get out of these wet clothes," he finally stated, his voice practical and no-nonsense.

You knew he was right, but the timing of it made it slightly uncomfortable. He knew he was straining on the already strange atmosphere that has been looming over the two of you since you found each other in the brace of one other. However, you also knew the reality of the situation. Your pride was warring with the necessity of the situation. The chill in the air and the knowledge of the dangers of hypothermia prevailed, and rational thought found its way back to you. You have months left to travel with Joel - and undressing in front of him to ward off sickness should not be an embarrassing thing, it ensures your survival and should be nothing more - is nothing more.

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, as you shivered, teeth chattering. He looked around for any dry fabric he could find within the safehouse—tattered old blankets and worn-out jackets. It wasn't the most comfortable solution, but it would have to do for now. He picked up a jacket. “Here.”

You nodded in agreement and began peeling off your drenched attire. Joel did the same, his back turned to maintain some semblance of privacy. Finally free from the soaked garments, you are quick to put on the jacket, zipping it, covering your body enough to feel more comfortable. You start wringing out the excess water from the clothes you wore, leaving a puddle of water there. You avoided even looking in the direction of Joel, who you know is (most likely) currently butt naked. Instead, you find a moth-eaten blanket in a corner of the room that the rain hadn’t reached. Shivering uncontrollably, you wrap it around your waist, covering your exposed legs. You could see a not so naked Joel who had found some pieces of clothing to cover himself, thankfully. He was now hanging his wet clothes against the singular chair that he moved to one of the few dry spots in the house, so you opt to do the same. The room was still far from warm, and the leaky roof didn't help matters, but, at least you were in dry clothes, if you can call them that.

You spot the ever so tiny wood burning stove in the corner of an empty adjoining room. You check if there’s any wood in there, and to your surprise there is - however, not much of it. Enough for tonight, and that’s all that mattered. You started a small fire and quickly huddled up against it for warmth. Joel walked into the room, as he’d seen the light from the fire from the corner of his eye. He nodded in approval as he silently walked towards you, sitting down next to you to also keep warm. You both sit there in silence, waiting for the clothes to dry.

Joel broke the silence, his voice softer this time "We'll have to wait out the storm here, and then we can continue our journey." You nod, agreeing.

As the night wore on, the humidity in the room strangled the feeble fire you had managed to kindle earlier, ultimately snuffing it out. The temperature inside the safehouse plummeted, and it became apparent that you couldn't rely on the fire for warmth any longer “Damn it” You mutter, shivering once again, trying to revive the fire - to no avail.

What was also apparent was that the two of you were so obviously treading around the one thing you knew would help warm you up, very much proven by last night. Unsure, feeling awkward, you didn’t know if you should bring it up. Proudly, you both sat there in silence. The memory of the previous night and the warmth that entailed lingered in the back of both of your minds. It had been an unspoken but undeniable source of comfort in the midst of the harsh world you inhabited, and now, with the cold seeping into your bones, and the urgency to get warm overtaking the awkward tension looming over you, the thought of that shared warmth became impossible to ignore.

Without saying a word, you shifted closer to Joel, seeking his body heat. Joel, initially surprised, looking over at you, understood the unspoken request and shifted to accommodate you. It was an unspoken agreement, a silent acknowledgment that you needed each other's warmth to survive the harsh, cold night.

With a shared understanding of practicality and mutual vulnerability, you created a makeshift sleeping area consisting of zipped up sleeping bags, dry blankets and whatever else fabric you could spare that would dampen the solidity of the cold, damp floor. This was where you settled as you finally lay side by side. You tried to find a comfortable position, mirroring the way you had slept in the tent the night before, with him against your back. Your bodies pressed together, and your breaths synchronized in the cold darkness, neither of you speaking about it, rather you let your bodies instinctively gravitate closer, seeking the heat that the other provided.

In the quiet of the night, as you shared body heat to stave off the biting cold, the tension that had lingered between the two of you began to seemingly fade. Despite the uncomfortable surroundings and your strained relationship, you both found a strange comfort in your shared warmth and the familiarity of each other's presence. There was no need for snark, nor sly remarks; pissing each other off. Neither did you have to discuss the somewhat uncomfortable, albeit innocent yet necessary, situation you’ve found yourself in. The cold was unforgiving, and your priority was to avoid hypothermia. You were, after all, nothing but two survivors making the best of the harsh and unforgiving circumstances given to you, finding solace and comfort in each other's company, even if it was unconventional.

He hesitantly kept his arms to his side. Joel broke the silence, clearing his throat, his voice barely a whisper, "I never thought I'd miss that damn tent." trying to diffuse more of the tension.

You slightly laugh, feeling a slight cramp in your body from the duress of the situation. The laugh eased up some internal tension you didn’t even know you were holding onto. “It was for sure warmer than this” You chuckle.

He smiled. And that was that. You were both admittedly exhausted, and drifted off into a very well-earned sleep, lulled by the heat radiating between the two of you. Secretly, you couldn’t help but to wish for the extra warmth that came from his arms around you, as it did yesterday, holding you impossibly close, keeping you safe in his big strong arms. Little did you know that he was thinking the same, but it was simply a line that Joel couldn't bring himself to cross. You had already navigated enough awkwardness and unspoken emotions that night. That didn’t stop him, however, from subconsciously doing so in his sleep - just as he did the night before.

Morning came, and you were awakened by the sun shining through the window, and onto your face. To your surprise, you felt your body be wrapped in the warmth of Joel's embrace. He must have instinctively put his arm around you whilst he slept. At first, you felt a sense of contentment. It was strange, but also undeniable. It was a reassuring feeling, knowing that he was there, holding you tightly - just as you had secretly hoped. But, as your senses fully woke up, you became acutely aware of something else - a firm pressure against your back that couldn't be ignored. You froze, your eyes widening in shock, and your heart raced as you registered the presence of Joel's erection pressed against your back. Joel was still asleep, as far as you were concerned. His breath heavy and warm on your shoulder, light snores leaving his mouth. Your mind raced as you tried to process the situation. You two had already crossed so many boundaries during the night to stay warm, but this felt like an entirely different kind of boundary altogether. Was this intentional? Or just a physiological response to their proximity?

Was there a sick, twisted part of you that engulfed your mind with fantasies of alleviating the pressure burning in the pit of your stomach with the (from what your back could feel was a very appropriately sized) dick prodding at your back? Yes. You were only human, after all. Were you going to do anything about it? No. You knew this was not intentional, not realistically. You’re a grown woman and know that he couldn’t control it just as much as you couldn’t control your deep guttural reaction to such an… event.

You debated over your next moves, unsure of how to navigate this uncharted territory. If you move away, he will wake up, realize he has a boner and think it scared you off. But if you lie there, hoping it goes away, and he wakes up with a raging boner still in full swing rubbing against you - he’d be mortified. Him, being a proud man would never live that down, and would probably not talk to you again, or at least not know what to say, in the midst of his own embarrassment. After yesterday, and the progress you made in your ‘partnership’, you couldn’t help but to dread the deafening silence that came with the impending awkwardness. You’ve been through so much already, and have yet to even get close to finishing this mission. So much left yet to go through. You have crossed so many bridges, this is just one of them. This was just a fleeting moment and not as significant as it might feel in the heat of the moment. It’s not a big deal, not really, just bodies doing body stuff. Or at least that is what you are telling yourself.

Carefully, you adjusted your position ever so slightly, shifting your body away from his rock solid member to relieve the pressure between your bodies, all the while ensuring that you didn't wake him from his peaceful slumber. It was a delicate maneuver to maintain the pretense of sleep, but you hoped it would be enough for you to potentially feign ignorance, just in case he was awake. You, flustered by the situation and the thoughts lingering in your (albeit perverse) mind, could not fall back asleep. Rather, you lied there letting your thoughts run wild. Couldn't hurt to indulge into harmless fantasy?

A couple of moments later, you could feel shifting next to you. Joel slowly woke up, feeling the oh so familiar throbbing that welcomes him in the mornings from time to time. Joel comes to his senses as he gently wakes up, quickly remembering the way he fell asleep against you and how much of a compromising position that would be for him right now. He quickly snapped his eyes open to see, to his relief, that you had moved away in your sleep, or at least so he thought. ‘Phew’ he thought to himself. He quickly sprung to his feet, leaving the room - hoping it goes away before you wake. He was not entertaining the idea of taking care of it, it could be too risky.

Him waking up reminded you of his existence, which filled your lust driven mind with an enormous guilt and shame regarding your thoughts. He didn’t have control over that, and your insatiable mind went and ran with it. You quickly shook the thoughts off and tried to think of something else as you laid there, unsure how to proceed..

You laid still until you heard Joel packing his bag. You took it as an indication that you were out of the woods, and had dodged a bullet - even though the both of you are flustered by it, without the knowing that the other one knew. You get up, and start folding the cloth and blankets that made up your ‘bed’, and walked out to the room with the bags and packed. Joel didn’t say anything.

“G’mornin’” You announce your presence. He, already hyper aware of it, hums as a response. You don't look much into it, relieved he isn’t treating you differently considering last night's sleeping arrangements. When you packed up, you put your backpack around your shoulders, your rifle around your neck and the rest of your gear clinging to the bag. You look at Joel, who is watching you as you pull the straps of the bag. You look up and nod. “Let’s go?”

He nods. You’re off.

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