#in white feathers. i swear to you they were Not there when i was walking up. my mom (biggest skeptic in the world) was there too and she

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hello! Can I plz request Alastor x Doe! Reader where he meets Charlie's best friend who's the reader and becomes possessive over her, maybe his instincts tell him to mark the reader as his mate. The reader is a white doe. :)

Yessss i love this idea teehee i maybe got carried away and also i unintentionally made this sort gender neutral and a teeny tiny speck of smut, i hope that’s okay if not it’s at the very end so it’s skipable, hopefully i did your idea justice and hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for this xx

At first sight

PART TWO PART THREE

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: SMUT 18+, doe reader only describes white ears tail and pink nose rest is ambiguous, possibly corny ahh dialogue, love at first sight kinda trope, angel/hellborn reader, slightly OOC Al y’know smut love, reader cooks, biting & briefly blood, penetrative sex, reader makes deal with al to give themselves to him, swearing, NOT PROOFREAD I think that’s it lmk if i missed anything!!

Charlie ran manically around the hotel, fixing various things and studying the entire building under a microscope to ensure it looked its best. Zipping her way to the lobby, she caught the gaze of Angel Dust, who was in the middle of sucking down a frozen popsicle.

“Be nice today! Look your best, oh oh! No porn on the TV!” Charlie shouted rushed and frazzled as she came up beside Angel to fluff out the couch cushions. Husk watched silently ears zeroed in on the conversation unwillingly, focusing mainly on Angel. “Geez toots, what’s got your feathers in a bunch?”

Angel smiled amused by Charlies odd demeanour. “My best friend since, like, forever is coming here today! To see the hotel!” Charlie exclaimed lurching forward to grip Angels shoulders. Smirking at her Angel continued to suck on the popsicle. “So what, is this broad special or something?”

Charlie leaned back pulling her hands down her face, an exasperated groan crawling out from her throat. “Yes! Her mother was friends with my mom when they first came to hell, her mom ended up falling for a hell spawn and we born around the same time,” Charlie explained ringing her hands while pacing.

“She’s my best friend we grew up together, i’m worried she won’t like what i’m doing here.” Charlie finally confessed with a sigh, her body deflating as she herself came to terms with the fact she was afraid. Vaggie lingering in the background finally approached Charlie sticking her hand out to message her arm comfortingly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine toots! Plus she’s a born sinner! Ain’t no way anything here’s gonna be shocking her.”

Despite her worry she could admit Angel Dust was right, AND you’re her best friend there’s no way you’d be unnecessarily cruel to her dreams, you were always supportive and imaginative along with her. Smiling down at Angel, Charlie then plopped down beside him, resting her hooves after hours of hecticily running around. “You’re right Angel, thank you.” Angel hummed out an arrogant ‘you’re welcome’ while Vaggie circled the couch leaning over the back of it.

“So how long has it been since you’ve seen them?” Vaggie asked poking Charlie’s cheek. Looking away she counted on her fingers before turning to look at Vaggie. “Four years, they stayed with me while I tried getting over the absence of my mom; they live in wrath though and eventually went back.” Clapping her hands Charlie stood from the couch her brief moment of hoof rest over, the three sinners watching as she muttered to herself about everyone being on their best behaviour while walking off, clearly the talk only did a little to hush her nerves.

~

Standing outside the hotel doors your ears twitched at the sounds coming from beyond it, it’s clear as day that Charlie was instructing people to behave, be nice, and- not show you porn? Suddenly the door opened startling you slightly but that quickly wore off when you were greeted by the joyous face of your best friend Charlie. Tugging you into a bear hug, Charlie squealed about how excited she was, you naturally fell into her giving her a warm tight hug right back.

“I am so glad you’re here! I’m so happy to see you!” Charlie exclaimed pulling back and examining you. You hadnt seemed to change much to Charlie, the white tail you had wagged behind you happily, your equally platinum ears relaxed occasionally twitching at the sounds around you, your pink deer like nose that was perfectly contrasted with your skin colour.

It was clear you were half an angel, and Charlie lemented, when you two were younger, that she was jealous you had a more animalisitc appearance in comparison to her, but you reminded her that it didn’t matter because she was still as gorgeous as ever. “I’m so glad to be here! I was starting to think you’d never end up inviting me.” You laugh warmly.

Charlie beckoned you inside linking your arms together, the two of you walked inside. Vaggie was punctuated and ready to great you as you came further into the room. “Hi, I’m Vaggie-“ Vaggie was cut off promptly by Charlie who excitedly pulled her into a bear hug, cheek to cheek. “My girlfriend!” Charlie finished with a shout.

Your ivory tail flicked behind you happily as you grinned. “Holy shit! You’ve got a girlfriend? Damn we really need to catch up! Its so nice to meet you Vaggie.” You smile shaking her hand as she stuck it out, Vaggie only nodded smiling seemingly quite reserved.

After some rushed introduction of those around the room including Husk, Angel, Nifty, and Sir Pentious, Charlie took you to your room to settle in. Closing the door behind the two of you Charlie watched as you laid your suit cases down by the bed, unzipping them and pulling out your clothing. “Sooo,” Charlie trailed hands tucked behind her back as she wandered around the vacant room.

“You remember Alastor right? The radio demon?” Charlie questioned, sounding suspicious. Looking up from your folded laundry you quirked a brow fearing where this might be heading. “Yes… i do.” You say slowly, fixing your posture waiting for her to turn to you, but she seemed rather interested in the wallpaper. “Well… y’know… this hotel takes a lot…. and when i first started…” Charlie trailed off gazing out the open window, stepping towards her you carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.

Looking at you she knew there was no sense in keeping such a prominent part of the reason this hotel was possible secret. “Alastors here, he helped since the start. He hasn’t asked for anything in return and he’s already fought for us!” Charlie spat the words out so fast you barely had time to comprehend. You and her were raised around each other meaning you had the same interactions with many of the princes’, sins, and hellborn, but human overlords were always were more…. well they weren’t used to power and immortality so they often over did it, Alastor was no different from what you were aware of.

“Are you sure having him is a good idea? Does your dad know?” Charlie nodded confirming her dad did know. “Yeah he doesn’t know who Al is, and to be fair none of us did! I promise he’s not that bad. Give him a chance?” You hummed looking away as she looked to you, you didn’t want to upset her by the discomfort that would be evident in your eyes. You didn’t enjoy brawls and fights, and you fear the demon would initiate that.

“Well i suppose i could trust him if you do, but i am skeptical; you’re always seeing the light in demons, even when it’s not there.” You laughed out recalling some things of the past that ended poorly because of a Charlie’s trust in certain sinners. And though at times foolish it was still an admirable trait and you aspired to be as kind hearted as she could be. “Where’s the guy anyways?” You asked after a short moment of pondering.

Charlie shrugged looking as if she was trying to recount the day. “Well he did say he had a meeting with Rosie,” She muttered quietly, although you didn’t know who Rosie was, you didn’t bother questioning it instead you pat Charlie on the shoulder, telling her that you’d like to get some rest, and you’d worry about Alastor later.

And so you spent a bit of time unpacking your things and settling down, you always preferred to be more in touch with the animalistic parts of yourself so your belongings held a lot of earthy aesthetics to them. Sitting on your bed, stripped of the hotels sheets and remade with your own, you opened your laptop and began typing.

You had forgotten about Alastor for the most part but you remember Charlie brining it up as he began his tyranny after his death. Charlie had always been pretty involved with her people, mainly focusing her energy on human sinner so you weren’t surprised that she knew of him, you were however surprised she was so willing to let him in when he massacred her people.

After a few minutes of light research about the demon, you established with how long he was gone perhaps he would be willing to change however you’d keep up your guards just to be sure.

~

Humming to himself Alastor got ready for the day, though he rarely slept he did occasionally get into evening outfits if he was staying in. He fixed his hair, ensuring not a hair was out of place and with a finally dust of his sleeves, he materialized his microphone and trotted his way out of his room.

A new scent hit him the minute he got to the staircase, the reaction was instantaneous, his ears perked, his tail stiffened thank the hellions no one was around to witness his discomfort, because it was evident. Fixing his posture, and his smile, he pretended nothing was up and continued his way downstairs. He greeted Husk as usual, and like usual Husk only grunted at the demon.

Making his way into the kitchen Alastor was stunted in place by the sight in front of him. There you stood deer tail wagging, singing along to music as you mixed a bowl of who knows what together. Alastor observed you quietly as ever, and definitely not checking you out because that would be rude- however your tail was very much distracting.

Clearing his throat the static spitting out behind his voice, you jumped slightly at the sound of him, looking over your shoulder to where he stood at the kitchen entry. The two of you simply stared at each other for a moment, the song in the background seemingly quieter than before, as if the two of you were in your own little zone.

Alastor couldn’t describe the gravitational pull he had toward you, he would’ve been a fool to deny your beauty, but he’d never had issue admitting when a demon or person was beautiful, it didn’t matter to him, so he couldn’t grasp why you seemed to have an immediate effect on him.

You too felt similarly gawking at the sight of him, i mean you’d never seen pictures of him, only art or depictions, which really didn’t do him any good. You were honestly a little embarrassed, you thought he was incredibly handsome, contrary to your beliefs prior to this moment, and you felt a little silly to suddenly feel like going back on your apprehension about him simply because of how attractive he was.

Deciding to finally break the intense yearning gaze the two of you held, Alastor perked up stepping close to you swinging his hand out to shake. “Alastor darling, pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure.” Going unnoticed by you, Alastor’s voice involuntarily dropped lower, making it come out more sultry than he’d ever done during an introduction. Of course Alastor was aware it wasn’t his normal voice and wondered why the hell he decided to modify his tone to come out as seductive as it did; was it just by nature?

“I’m YN, Charlie’s best friend. I don’t know if you knew i was staying but i am, surprise! Heh,” You say a little nervously sticking out your hand but quickly retracting it, as it was covered in dough. “I’m making bread and breakfast, do you like french toast?” You finish finally gaining the courage to meet his gaze properly.

His eyes were lidded, and he looked down at you only with his eyes keeping his head forward, which made you feel some type of way. He had such a big presence, height aside, that would make anybody on the receiving end of his heated gaze, shrink. “I suppose i wouldn’t mind a little bite to eat, tell me little doe, how do you make such a meal?”

Of course Alastor knew what french toast was, but he’d much prefer to play stupid so he could listen to you speak, and have you look up at him so deliciously. “Well, i’m making some homemade no yeast bread, and then i’m gonna do the egg and frying, normally i mix some cinnamon and honey in, but i might not since i don’t know what you guys like. A lot of people put syrup, but i can’t stand it; too sticky.” You explained mixing all of your ingredients, turning to him you smiled.

“Would you mind greasing the pan for me, please?” Alastor nearly purred at you with how you requested his help he would’ve bent himself backwards if it meant you’d ask him like that again. The way these emotions hit him in the gut; the undeniable feeling of desire he was trying to fight against was incredibly intense and oddly, he liked it. “Of course my dear, whatever you wish, i shall see to.” With the snap of his fingers his hair had been pulled back, suit jacket gone, leaving him in only his white button up, and a pink apron.

Shamessly your eyes roamed his figure watching as he began to grease the pan with his hand. His eyes still lidded and smile relaxed. You enjoyed how he stood tall and relaxed, and it was only now when you caught a peek of his red tail that you realized; “You’re a deer?”

Alastor paused momentarily, eyes lazily difting toward you. He didn’t mind that you saw his tail, and he was a little surprised you lacked to notice he was a deer. “What did you think i was sweetheart?” Alastor exclaimed his entertainment persona peeking through as he did. You peeled your eyes away feeling a little bad for staring at him, instead you focused on placing the bread into the bow greased pan before responding. “Maybe a fox, but to be honest i didn’t think too much about it.”

Alastor hummed in agreement, watching as you placed the bread in to the oven. There weren’t many does Alastor has seen, many bucks but does were more of a rarity. The two of you made breakfast, bantering about things here and there and getting to know one another.

“What’s earth like?” You asked watching him prepare dough for beignets which he insisted you tried as it was a lousiana breakfast staple- but also because he wanted to have you to himself just a bit longer, and show off his cooking skills. “What do you mean dear?” Alastor questioned brows furrowed slightly, but his inquiry came soft with no judgement. “I’m not human, moms an angel, dad was one of the few hell borns that kinda just popped up, we don’t know where he went to though, anyways i’ve never seen the earth.”

Now that, was news to him. He suspected you were something special based off the tugging feeling he had toward you, but being a literal angel wasn’t something he would’ve bet on, but should’ve guessed on. Without a worry in his mind, Alastor happily told you about his home in new orleans, what it was like being a radio host, how in got into voodoo, how he new some cajun french, as well as his mother.

Leaning on the counter head rested on his hand, looking at you dreamily while the beignets fried. “My mother was an angel, she was my biggest supporter at the time, the reason i kept pushing. I have the upmost respect for mothers like mine.” You, as equally lost in the dream like bliss Alastors presence brought you, smiled at his story’s ogling at the man who spoke so highly of his mom. “That’s the sweetest Alastor, I wish i could’ve met the woman who made you into such a gentlemen.” You flirt subtly gently patting his arm.

Alastor hummed a lovesick smile on his face his tail wagging happily behind him as the two of you continued to yap. Tails syncing with the way they swayed unnoticed by you two as you lost yourselves in eachother, also going unnoticed was Charlie giddy as could be, in the background jumping up and down. Slipping away to Vaggie, Charlie gripped her like she was her life line. “YN and Alastor are totally going to get together! Ahh!” Charlie squealed shaking a limp Vaggie back and forth.

~

“Mhm Alastor please please please,” You chant wrapped tightly around the demons waist, as he pressed you up against your dresser. After a full day of being alongside Alastor the tension snapped between you two, although it took a few things to get there. First Angel hitting on you right after breakfast, it made Alastor seethe the symbols and static materializing as he watched Angel hit on you. It made Alastor realize such a sweet doe like you must be marked, can’t have other buck or demon filth thinking they can just put there hands on you.

The second thing that egged him on was when the two of you went for a stroll together, and while in a store witnessed a demon repeatedly harass you while you simply tried to pick out a dress! Alastor apologized for the blood shed, but he professed he needed to obliterate that demon to protect you and that would be the only time he would ever put you in a position to see such things. Which made your heart flutter, you felt the desire to have him protect you, it’s not like you couldn’t do it yourself but it made you weak in the knees to have a demon like Alastor jumped to protect you.

Thrusting into you needily, Alastor growled like a mad man his hand climbing up your body to grab your cheeks gently fixing your gaze up to him. “You’re mine,” Static laced his tone as he hissed out at you, pushing his body flush to yours. Moaning like a whiny porn star, you nodded in your head in a daze. “My mate,” He muttered again breathing deeply as he clenched his teeth.

Reaching your hands up to grab his antlers that sprout, you couldn’t help the way your body shook and the way you lewdly moaned. You felt so electrified and couldn’t contain the pleasure Alastor was making you feel. “Please Al, I love it so good,” You whined against his lips, his smile closed and strained as his lips brushed against yours, your breath tickling him as you whined.

Smashing your lips together Alastor picked up the pace feeling like a wild animal. He wanted you, forever, he wanted you to be his one and only, his only doe. Making himself hornier with the thought of having you all to himself his static crackled loudly as he thought up something mischievous. Pulling back from your heated kiss, you whined begging him to kiss you, touch you and fuck you, smiling at you in your disheveled state, a green huge suddenly engulfed the room.

The two of you lit up like neon as symbolize shined in the background. “Give yourself to me little doe, be my mate for entirety and the world is yours, anything you or your friends want i will give you. I can’t let such a thing like you go, i need you.” Alastor statically said, it sounded quite ominous but you were too horny to pick up on that, you could only pay attention to the need you had between your legs and in your heart. Alastor wanted you to be his forever, linked to you for eternity. Perhaps it was the fact that you were both deer that you two had this simultaneous connection, but regardless you couldn’t care you just wanted him back as much as he wanted you.

Thrusting yourself upward into him, you gripped his hand, while clenching down on him at the same time. “Yes, always i’m yours only; it’s a deal.” You moaned. Growling demonically Alastors green disputes like electricity, escaping this room and flowing through the hotel like wave. Feeling his heart bloom Alastors ears clipped back as he jackhammered into you, the dresser slamming against the wall while you squealed a little giggle bubbling out from how needy he became. That giddiness left as a violent hot mass washed over you, screaming out a moan you clutched Alastor, singing out his name through moans of appreciation as he coaxed you with praises through your orgasm.

It shook your body, and soon after Alastor came to a halt inside you, biting down hard on your neck. You moaned his name, not even feeling pain as he sunk his teeth into you down to the gum. After a few moments of licking up your blood he pulled away gazing into your fucked out eyes. As you were about to tell Alastor that you needed to figure out why you were both so suddenly connected, Charlie bolted in.

“YOU MADE A DEA- FUCK IM SORRY!” Within the span of two seconds Charlie had two separate panic attacks, one because she saw the green deal making light shoot through the hotel while you were alone with Al, and the second right after she closed to door from seeing the two of you intertwined at the hips.

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[onlyseokmins]

babymaker • c.s.c

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah

Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.

Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor. 

University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits. 

Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement. 

You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror. 

Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.

"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.

"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way." 

"Of course, as long as it's convenient."

"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.

You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom. 

All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"

Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?

Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."  

"You're a busy man."

"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."

"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."

"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."

"Yeah, okay."

While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum. 

"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."

"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.

"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea. 

Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.

"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"

And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?

Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!

It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.

When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.

You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.

The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened. 

Safety. Security. Seungcheol.

Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.

And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.

Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.

You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile. 

Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.

Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal. 

He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.

You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.

It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop. 

When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.

And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more. 

These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair. 

He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.

So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only. 

The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.

Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.

The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for. 

But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.

"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."

What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.

But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?

Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man. 

Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.

"Kiss me."

And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.

"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."

"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.

"Not like that, up."

Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.

This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.

"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind. 

Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.

"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"

"No… s-sorry."

"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"

Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.

"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."

"Most times, not."

"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"

The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.

So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt. 

When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.

He waits for you to surrender.  

Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.

Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"

It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.

"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask."

No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"

It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.

"Bullshit."

"Bet."

"You love it when people stare at you." 

There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."

"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."

Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.

"What?" 

"You like me, don't you?"

It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "

"Forget about my cock for a bit." 

"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home. 

Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."

"… Alright."

"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "

"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"

Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."

"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."

"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"

The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.

"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."

"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."

He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.

Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"

"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "

Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."

"Wh-what?"

"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you." 

Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."

"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."

"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."

He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."

"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?" 

"Yeah… because you love me!"

There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.

"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."

Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin. 

You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."

"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"

"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"

"'Cause you never clean."

"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."

"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."

"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"

"… Six months."

Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"

"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"

"Oh yes, because that's the point here."

"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."

All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"

"Do… do you not like it?"

"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."

"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "

"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"

A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."

"Choi Seungcheol."

"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."

It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp. 

"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"

"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?" 

Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."

"You're so sappy, what the heck."

"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."

"Testing?"

"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"

You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."

"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"

"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.

But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.

Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.

"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."

"So that's what you meant by test…" 

The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.

It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."

And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.

Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement. 

Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.

He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before. 

But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.

"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.

A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.

You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"

"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."

"Oh? And how so? What for?"

"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.

"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."

"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…" 

"You don't sound sorry." 

Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.

Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions. 

He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"

"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."

"Brat."

"You love me." 

"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."

"I'm never mean to you."

"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."

"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."

"Wha — ?"

The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.

He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.

"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."

"Mmph, ah… only yours!"

No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white. 

It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.

But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are. 

"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."

"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."

"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."

"Jus' want, just want your dick."

"I know, baby."

Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.

"No!"

In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside. 

He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."

A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.

"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."

Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.

"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat. 

"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."

"Yeah, all yours, baby."

Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure. 

That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness. 

The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"

"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"

"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."

A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips. 

You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own. 

He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.

"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.

"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"

"I'm serious. I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."

He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."

"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."

Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"

"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."

"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."

You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"

"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."

"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."

"Love you too." 

"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return. 

"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"

You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.

onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #scoups smut #I secretly loathe this fic 😭 #1k 🌟

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Kinktober day 15/16: Pegging + feminization - Scaramouche x reader

Warnings/tags: Pegging, feminization, fem!reader, Scaramouche is a brat but there’s not really any brat taming. A healthy dose of humiliation, reader being a bit of a brat too.

I mean, I think the title explains it pretty well… I can’t believe I actually posted this.

“This is stupid.” Scaramouche huffed, pouting as you snapped away with your phone camera, planning on preserving his humiliation securely in your camera roll.

He stood in front of you in a light purple pleated miniskirt, a loose white shirt sleeved crop top, and a massively oversized purple jacket you had dug out of the bottom of your closet.

He had done this to himself. He had no one else to blame, honestly. He shouldn’t have made the bet if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

It had taken a bit of a fight, but you had eventually gotten him to hold up his end of the bargain, and god was it worth it. Because now you had your absolute brat of a boyfriend in the most compromising position imaginable, and you were free to have your fun with him for an hour.

“I swear to god, once this is over, you’re going to regret this.” He hissed, glaring at you.

“Oh I’m sure I will.” You responded smugly, cackling as you put a cutesy pink filter over one of the photos you had just taken.

Scara groans, rolling his eyes as he tugged the skirt lower, trying to get a bit more coverage from the, admittedly, very short skirt. “Are you done yet? Can I take this shit off?”

“You said I had an hour, I’m using that hour, Scara.”

He grumbles, rolling his arms and huffing in his usual manner.

You can’t help the grin from sneaking onto your face, turning away to hide it as you give him his instructions. “Get on the bed, on your back.”

In the background, you can hear Scara grumble a protest (something-something, opportunistic pervert) along with the creak of the bed frame as he, in the end, does as he’s told. You ruffle through a bin hidden in the back of your closet, smirking as you find what you’re looking for.

You walk up to him holding the item behind your back with what you’re sure must be an unsettling grin, at least judging by the way his leg is jittering and his eyes dart over you with thinly veiled worry.

You smirk, taking your arms out from behind your back and showing Scaramouche what you have.

A glittery bright purple dildo- in all its excessively hyper feminine glory.

When he sees it, his face drops. “Oh hell no. You are not using that on me.” He growled, scrunching up his nose and giving the overly girly dildo a down right nasty look.

“Oh hell yes. You lost the bet, remember? It’s only fair that you hold up your side of the deal.” You say, smirking as Scaramouche glared at the piece of plastic like it personally pissed in his oatmeal.

You plop yourself onto the bed, swinging your legs up and onto the mattress as you scoot towards Scaramouche. If looks could kill, you’d be a fully decayed corpse right now…

Although the intimidation factor of Scaramouche’s well practiced dirty looks and glances is massively undermined by the fact that he’s achingly hard, dressed in a your clothes, and practically trembling- his eyes following you and the toy in your hand like a cat’s to a feather.

“Poor boy, you’re trying to be all scary- but you can’t help how needy you are, can you?” You ask, reaching to your side and ruffling through the drawer of your nightstand, looking for lube. You can’t help the boost to your ego that comes with how thickly he swallows as you pull out the bottle.

You move back over to Scara, tapping the insides of his thighs in a silent command to spread his legs bad make room.

Once he does, you slot yourself between them, grinning when you glance up and catch the sight of Scaramouche’s bright red half-turned-away face- the back of one of his hands resting against his mouth as his blush steadily deepens.

You grin, leaning forward and spreading his thighs further apart, tapping the side of his hip and giving the simple command of “lift up”.

When Scara does as he’s told- lifting his hips so you can hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pull them off, but leaving the skirt- you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face.

“Scara, have I ever told you you have a really pretty cock?” You ask, gently running a finger along the head and down his shaft. Scaramouche doesn’t respond, clenching his teeth and drawing a shaky inhale at the feather-light touch.

“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Scaramouche.” You chime teasingly, laughing when all that he respons with is a choked “S-Shut up-”

You lean forward, kissing his cheek and stroking his hair sweetly, giving him a moment of softness before pulling away and letting your face go back to a slightly condescending smirk. “Come on pretty boy, you know you gotta ask for it if you want it.”

Scaramouche’s eyes harden- snapping to you with an outraged look before remembering himself, biting his lip and looking away with a glare.

“I’m waiting.” You say, fiddling with the cap of the lube bottle as you feign impatience.

“You’re the one who wanted to do this. I’m not fucking begging.” Scara replies, spitting out the words like they were poison.

“Then I’m not fucking you.”

“Fuck me. Please.” Scara growled, flopping his hand down onto the pillow and looking away as he mumbled out his half-assed ask.

You grin cheekily, tapping your finger against your cheek and tilting your head in a way that you knew would piss him off. “Hmmm, I’m gonna need you beg a little bit prettier than that.”

“Just fuck me with the damn toy already! I swear to god! You’re such an ass sometimes!!” Scaramouche glares up at you- looking a bit like an angry cat just dumped in a bucket of water.

You laughed, giving in and opening the bottle of lube, squirting a decent puddle onto your hand before tossing it to the side, but still within arm’s reach. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m working on it.”

You coat your fingers, spreading a bit on your other hand before taking Scaramouche’s cock on your hand, jerking him slowly as you start to open him up on your fingers.

Scara tenses up as your fingers enter him- scrunching his face up like he just tasted something sour- at least until you give him a light swat on the ass, a stern command to “relax” falling from your mouth like second nature.

He does as he’s told, taking a deep breath and working to relax his body as you rub a circle into the bottom of the head of his cock with the pad for your thumb, paying further attention to the spot when you’re rewarded with a loud groan for your efforts.

You smile at his noises, working him open gently and slowly while making sure not to hit his prostate yet, instead paying all your attention to the head of his cock.

After a moment, you slip a second finger in, briefly taking your hand off his cock and reaching up to slip your hand under Scaramouche’s top. You grin at Scara’s startled yelp when you grab a handful of his pectoral muscle- squeezing and groping the flesh as he squirmed.

“Pretty tits.” You say, moving your hand to pinch at his nipples.

“I’m not pretty.” Scaramouche growls, a bit embarrassed at your attention to his chest, trying to slip his hands under the relatively skimpy crop top to protect himself from any further gropes or pinches.

You laugh, relenting and pulling your hand away, as you go back to jerking him off.

“You are very pretty. Scara, all the time and everywhere, but especially with this skirt and top.”

He grumbles, mumbling some snarky response or other- only to stop and watch as you press a kiss to the side of his cock, swiping your thumb over the slit and taking his precome, letting it mix with the lube as you spread it over his cock.“See? Look, I told you that you were pretty. Look at this cock, it’s so pretty, Scara. Just look at how needy it is.” You coo, looking up and grinning as Scaramouche turns his face away.

“You know, turning your face to the side doesn’t help when your ears and neck are bright red too.”

When you tease him, he turns his furiously blushing face back to you. Opening his mouth to retort, you press your fingers upwards and into his prostate, relishing in the strangled moan that fell from him instead of his usual snappy comebacks.

At that, you deem him ready. The toy was pretty small anyways- he shouldn’t have any trouble. You take his distraction as an opportunity, pulling your fingers out, grabbing the toy, and hooking an arm underneath Scaramouche’s knees. You bend him over himself, pushing his knees beside his chest and holding him there, giving him a lewd view of his wet cock against his stomach and of you holding the toy, grinning at how he whined when you moved him.

Before he could speak, you push the toy inside, leaning over to speak against his ear as you mercilessly hit his prostate spot-on over and over. “Pretty boy, you’re doing so well for me. Look at you in this cute little skirt, taking the toy so well. Such a good boy.”

Scara yelped- tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as you bullied his prostate- whining and squirming as your pace ratched from about a 4 to a 10.

“See? Look at that pretty cock, do you even need it to cum? Cause I think you can come just from this, can’t you?”

Scaramouche sobbed, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to reach his hand up to jerk himself off, only for you to grab his hand and pin it under his own body weight.

“No no no- I need- I needa- I-“

You shush him, still pinning him down as you flip a switch at the base of the toy, stopping your movements and instead grinding it almost painfully against his walls instead- watching as Scara seized and twisted in pleasure as the vibrations started up.

“No, no. You don’t need your hand, Scara. You can do it, I believe in you.”

You ground the toy into his prostate as his body tensed and he came with a shout, not stopping even as he spilt cum all over the skirt and crop top, even managing to get a bit on his face.

Once he comes down, you turn the vibrations off, gently unfolding him from himself and pressing kisses to his temple, wiping his tears away and holding him tight as he came down.

You kiss him gently, giving him a tight squeeze before pulling away a bit.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay pretty boy?”

He glares, still clinging to you like a lifeline even as he scoffs and turns his nose up at you. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It’s true!”

“No it’s not!”

“Grump.”

“Opportunist.”

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

#scaramouche x y/n #scara smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scara #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #sub scaramouche #scara x y/n #smut #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #fem reader #fem!reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

[enditen]

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.



“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.



“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”



“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”



The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.



He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.



Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 



“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 



“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.



That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.



"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.



Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.



"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."



"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."



Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.



"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "



A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"



You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.



"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."



"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."



The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."



If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."



You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.



This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.



It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.



You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.



His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.



Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.



"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."



Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.



"I—" He starts before you shake your head.



"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.



"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."



You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"



You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"



A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."



His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"



You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"



His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.



"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."



"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.



"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."



"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"



"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"



"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"



"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"



"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."



A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."



You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"



A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.



He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.



"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.



A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"



"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."



You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."



What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.



You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.



"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.



You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.



"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.



"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."



He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."



You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."



"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

#bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic

[ieatstarsforaliving]

Denial (1)

Summary: Hazel and (Y/N) are the tributes from District 12 for the 74th Hunger Games. Hazel doesn't want to see (Y/N) die. And (Y/N) just wants to live.

Pairing: Tribute!Hazel Callahan x Tribute!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), (Y/N) is kind of a bitch but aren't we all when facing death, I swear she gets better, mentions of death and suicide, lots of mentions of violence with pretty graphic descriptions but it’s just depressive hunger game shit

Word Count: 2614

Note: I KNOW I said I’d write part 3 of Spiderwoman!Hazel Callahan BUT I suddenly craved angst and had to write this. I had to. Just let me post this today and I’ll give you Spiderwoman soon– I SWEAR. Also this is lowkey bad cause I have not written angst in a while. Idk. It's not gut-wrenching enough. I'll make it work somehow.  - Bia <3

No.

Not you. 

Anyone but you.

Hazel knows what the Hunger Games look like. 

Violent. Callous. Sadistic. 

None of those words resemble you. 

Hazel watches as you walk towards the stage, each step weaker than the other. She thinks you’ll fall over, but you manage to stand beside the extravagantly dressed escort, who claps cheerily in your honor with a guiltless smile. As he chatters about his appreciation for the games, you are expressionless. Your fists are clenched, your eyes fixed on the crowd, blankly staring at the faces of the people who know you. 

Hazel has never seen you so scared. 

“Well, then, shake hands!” The escort chirps, pushing Hazel towards you. 

There’s a pause before Hazel takes your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.  

Please, please look at me, she thinks. It’s going to be okay– 

-But when you do look at her, it's automatic. Empty. Involuntary, as if meaningless to share eyes with a future corpse. Hazel recognizes the shift of the dynamic between the two of you. She is no longer your neighbor, your classmate— no longer the girl you once kissed in the grounds of the forest.

-She is your rival. 

Her eyes flick away from you. It feels like you can read what’s in her head, both the shock and the anguish. Hazel is not ready to deal with either. 

So she drops your hand and looks away, staring at the camera zooming in on her face. 

But in the second of eye contact, Hazel does notice this; 

Grief has already struck your eyes. 

The train ride is silent. The District 12’s assigned escort, who introduces himself as Meyers, continuously attempts to make conversation with either one of you, talking about what a privilege it is to be traveling to the Capitol. 

You choose to be speechless, sitting on the plump green velvet chair with your legs pulled close to your chest. Hazel sits opposite to you, persistently peering while contemplating on how to start up a conversation— or maybe, not to start one at all.

You’ve been subtly ignoring her gaze, trying not to look deliberate in your avoidance. Staring at the passing trees out the window, you’re forced to picture the forest back at home— A hug of browns, shelter of extended limbs, sunlight filtered through the overlapping leaves above.  

Along with the images of forest, you’re forced to remember. 

It was a particularly cold morning when Hazel first found you in the heart of the woods, the chilling air hanging heavy with the scent of pine and coal. In your hands was a bleeding bird, fragile body betrayed by your well-aimed rock. 

It turned out to be a mockingjay, and as the crimson stain spread across its black and white feathers, the satisfaction of your hunt waned. Your hunger persisted, but found yourself frozen. The irony of the prey was a slap in your face. A mockingjay– Why did it have to be a mockingjay? The failed muttation, the insult to the dystopia— the only thing in the world that seemed to be resisting the Capitol— and here you were, unwittingly taking its life. 

Hazel approached you, and you flinched– but you didn’t run. You couldn’t, not when her eyes had such softness within them, as if forgiving your savage hand in place of the bird. Without uttering a word, she knelt beside you on the forest floor. 

Her fingers dug through the dirt, prodding into her nails until a hole was made. Her hands were soiled but warm as she took the mockingjay from your hands, placing it in the makeshift resting place amidst the roots of a towering tree. You watched as she covered the bird with earth. She then took your hand and guided you back to the fence, back to the meadow, to the bakery, where she bought a small piece of bread in exchange for the shabby jewelry off her neck. You learned later the necklace was a gift from her absent father. 

That was the Hazel you became used to. She was strong. Stronger than anyone you ever grew to know– as if to acknowledge that she could one day be standing in the arena. Yet you found her kindness to be her weakness. She never harmed anyone. Anything. She was a refuge from the harsh reality of the televised Hunger Games. And you kept coming back to her, mistaking the comfort for a shield against the brutality of the world. As if being close with her could protect you from any fucking thing. Perhaps that had prompted you to kiss her on that day, the day before the reaping, and all you could think about was how she didn’t push you away.

You snap out of your memories, the weight of the past and the jarring truth of the present boring down on you. You can’t handle either of those. You can’t handle looking at her. You can’t handle being in the same room as her. But the intensity of her gaze has burned into the side of your head, and you feel demanded to meet her eyes once more. 

When you finally look at Hazel, her eyes widen. 

She starts to open her mouth, on a pathway to a ramble, but the compartment door swings open, revealing a rough man with scruffy braids holding an explicit magazine. 

Hazel recognizes him– the only winner left alive from the Hunger Games from District 12. He’s notably muscular, with tattoos that circulate his stocky arms along with a rugged beard to match his image. 

He is Hunger Games winner material, Hazel thinks, and feels considerably feeble in comparison. 

The man looks around the room.   

“Man, I got stuck with two girls this time?” 

Hazel starts, “G–” 

“-Mr. G to you. I may look like this, but I’m still your mentor.” 

You stare at the man as he disappointingly analyzes his two mentees. He decides you’re not promising enough, not giving more than two seconds to consider you two before plopping on the green velvet seat and flipping through his magazine featuring a barely-clothed capitol woman. 

“You’re supposed to give us advice,” Hazel mutters. 

He scoffs in response, “I’ll give you advice; don’t die too quickly.” 

“So you think we have a chance?” 

“Hell no,” Mr. G laughs. “Look at you two.” 

You and Hazel stare at him. He notices the angry silence. 

“Alright. I’ll help y’all.” He shrugs, not looking up from the magazine. “When you arrive, you’re going to be grabbed by the most annoying sons-of-bitches who're gonna get y’all cleaned up and pretty to parade around the Capitol. It’s gonna suck. But you deal with it. No complaining. No resisting. You deal with it. Then you get in the arena, let them throw you around for a bit, and then find something visibly mild to kill yourselves with.” 

Hazel stiffens at the line. 

“What is wrong with you?” You shout, your voice laced with anger. “My life is on the line.” 

Mr. G glances at you with a raised eyebrow, indifferent. “Welcome to the Hunger Games, darlin’. You think having a different mindset is gonna keep you alive?”

“You’re supposed to be our mentor,” Hazel says, her voice trembling. “You’re supposed to help us survive.” 

“Survive? You kids from District 12 don’t survive. You endure. You endure and you die. There’s a difference.” He emphasizes on the words ‘die’ and Hazel wants to throw up. “It’s just like the year before this and the year before that.”

“So you’re just giving up?” You push yourself to your feet and step towards him. There’s resentment in your words, clawing at the lifeline that is supposed to be your mentor. “You’re pathetic.”

Mr. G gets up from his seat, looming over your frame. Unwavering, you glare at him. He lets out a chuckle, a brief moment of consideration flickering across his features. Then he pulls back his fist. 

In an instant, Hazel rushes in front of you, her body bracing for impact. His fist swings towards you, but it doesn’t land on your face. Instead, it meets Hazel’s, sending her backwards to the floor. The collision makes Mr. G stumble back a step, surprise evident in his eyes.

Hazel groans, rubbing her cheekbone but gets up again, standing in front of you with a defensive stance.

“Ah, I understand now.” Mr. G gawks at Hazel, amused. “The fighter and her protector.” 

Then he starts laughing, slowly staggering away from the two of you, walking out of the compartment with his dirty magazine still in his hand. Meyers quickly trails behind him, muttering something about tributes being barbarians and forcefully shuts the door with a resounding bang. 

Hazel turns to you, hoping her face isn't red. “Are you okay?” 

“Don’t.” 

Hazel blinks, taken aback. You’ve pulled away from her, creating a perceptible distance, your face flushed in an unknown emotion. 

“I–”

“-Don’t do that.” 

Hazel recognizes the barrier you’re attempting to draw between the two of you. She refuses to accept it and steps closer. 

“Don’t,” you insist. “Don’t come closer. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. We’re nothing.” 

“We’re friends,” Hazel protests.

“No,” you correct her, your voice cracking. “We stopped being friends when we were picked to kill each other. If we hadn’t—” 

If we hadn’t kissed, killing you would be easier. 

You stop. 

Hazel shakes her head, her expression in disbelief. “You’re the one who kissed me.”

She steps closer. You retreat. 

“Hazel, stop, please–”

She watches as your body begins to shake. A whimper escapes your lips, which is quickly covered by your hand. Then you’re sobbing uncontrollably, covering your reddened face as a means to hide yourself, but the tears manage to escape from the gaps between your fingers, soaking the condemned dress that you only wear on reaping days. 

“I- I don’t–” 

Hazel steps closer. “I know.” 

“I don’t want to die,” You croak. “I want don't want to die. I don’t want to kill. I don’t–” 

-I don’t want to kill you. 

The unsaid words ring around the room as Hazel pulls you into her arms. You don’t hesitate to hide your face into her neck, crying earnestly, body burning and painful, teeth clenched as the tears drip off your jaw and you refuse to let your lip quiver like a child. Hazel holds you tighter and presses her hand against the back of your head.

Hazel wants to say something. She opens her mouth.

Then she starts to cry.

As much as she hates Mr. G, he is right about the clean-up process before officially entering the capitol; it sucks. 

After arrival, the two of you were separated to different rooms with different stylists. Hazel’s stylist has been going about Hazel for two hours, scrubbing down her body with soaps of intense fragrance, trimming the nails into a smooth oval shape, rubbing makeup over her fresh bruise, painting on her eyelids, and primarily, getting rid of her body hair. She lays on the cold metal bed, barely clothed, as the hairs on her arms, underarms, eyebrows, nose– even places that shouldn’t matter being robbed of its hair. Hazel ignores the soreness of fabric being stripped from her leg, tearing out the hairs beneath it. 

Instead, Hazel thinks about killing. 

She thinks about the physicality of it. The impact of the blow, the act of stabbing, the struggle of choking someone. She assumes there would be weapons in the arena, there always is. But even back at home, she’s never crossed the line of killing even the smallest of creatures, not even when she was desperately hungry. But laying on the cold metal bed of the stylist’s office, she almost regrets the lack of practice. The visceral brutality, the raw and primal surge that accompanies violence— she’s unsure of it all. 

Then she thinks about you. 

She pictures a hand wrapped around your neck, slitting the flesh, warm liquid seeping through the fingernails— and the victim writhing, clawing, screaming— then finally falling limp. 

Hazel pales at the image. At the same time, she feels a particular jerk at her leg once again, and the stylist squeals the words, “Perfection! You’re beautiful!” 

She is ushered to sit up as the stylist grabs a cart filled with combs, bottles, and other products that Hazel doesn’t recognize. A mirror is passed, and Hazel blinks harshly at her reflection. She can see that she looks so… Capitol. Everything about her is enhanced; from hermetically coiffed eyebrows to her skin, perfectly shaped and painted, devoid of blemishes. The bruise from her mentor is gone, too. There's light bits of glitter on above her eyes, amplifying her blue eyes while giving her a much softened look. 

She looks like a tribute. 

“I really do wish you hadn’t cut your hair like this,” the stylist whines as she ruffles Hazel’s messy head with a sigh. A hairstyle she fearlessly trimmed with a pocket knife, now being sprayed by a sour, citrus themed liquid. “You are such a pretty girl. Perhaps we should glue a wig to your head.” 

“Don’t.” 

Hazel turns towards the voice. 

It’s you. You’re peering through the doorway, your entire form stripped and peeled away just as she is. Hazel does a visible double-take when she sees you, swallowing hard while staring at your half-naked body. She gazes at you, taking in the transformation that the Capitol has imposed on your appearance. 

If she thought you were beautiful before, she thinks you’re breathtaking now. 

“I like her hair,” You murmur, walking towards the bed. Hazel instinctively reaches up to touch her trimmed mullet, as if to confirm that it’s still there. 

“I suppose I can work with a tomboy image. Oh, I see a vision! I’ll be back,” The stylist sings to herself, running out of the room with a sudden enthusiasm.  

Hazel is still staring at you.

You shrug. “How do I look?” 

Like a lamb to slaughter.

“You… look different,” She says. “I don’t mean it’s bad. It’s good. But it’s also…” 

“I know,” you sigh, sitting beside Hazel’s bed. “A true depiction of Capitol beauty.”

“It could be worse,” Hazel starts. “We could be naked and covered in soot for the opening ceremony.” 

You laugh, knowing that the only thing District 12 is known for are coals. And there’s not many costumes you can be inspired by coals. Hazel smiles at your laughter, feeling instantly better. It’s a sound she hasn’t heard since the forest, as if a piece of home has been brought back to life. Although the room is cold and metallic, there’s warmth in between the two of you. 

Her gaze lingers on your transformed appearance. With the grime and dirt from the District rubbed off, you seem so fragile, so innocent, so out of place in the cruelty of the Capitol. None of you belong in that arena. And all of a sudden anger rises in Hazel. She wants the Capitol to burn. She wants the Capitol to burn for what it does to innocent lives like yours. 

Your laughter eases and you’re left staring back at Hazel. The forest and the Capitol are vastly different places. Even the silence is different. Back there, it was a pleasure to be silent. Here, silence is almost sickening. Still, your warmth persists.

“I’m serious about winning," You say.  

Hazel holds your gaze. 

“I know.” 

She offers her hand. You take it. And for a long time, neither of you speak. You just breathe and cling to each other, lost in a moment that's become heavier with your words.

There is a brief pause before the full effect of everything comes barreling towards Hazel. She ignores it.

Instead, Hazel thinks about dying.

Next Chapter: Anger

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter or" "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST if you want to be tagged ok???)

@vster0769 @milktea-academia <333

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #the hunger games #hunger games au #hazel callahan angst

[finelinevogue]

the warmest bed

summary - your bed is the warmest harry’s ever stayed in

warnings: negative past relationships, swearing, inspo

word count: 1k

“Y/N?”

You shuffled up the stairs, turning of the hallway light with the spare hand that wasn’t juggling a cup of tea.

“Yeah?” You called back to Harry, who you knew was already in bed waiting for your daily bedtime cuddle together.

“Did I turn the heating off?”

“Yeah, H. Y’did.”

Walking upstairs and into your bedroom, Harry had his pyjamas on over his white wife-beater shirt and boxers. They matched yours identically. Yes, you were that couple. He was all snuggled into the cotton sheets and feathered duvet, ready for a long sleep after a busy day.

Only after a cuddle or two, though.

“What?” You giggled, wondering why he was being so bashful.

“What?” You giggled, wondering why he was being so bashful.

“Just excited to have you sleeping next to me.” He pulled back the duvet to allow you to slip in next to him, not wasting any time to draw himself closer towards you.

He smelt like home. His nighttime routine meant that his face smelt freshly washed and his breathe slightly minty from the toothpaste. His hair was slightly greasy, but that was nothing a morning shower together wouldn’t fix. He was gorgeous under the soft night-light glow, his face slightly dewy from the products he used.

“Really?”

“You might as well break up with me if I wasn’t excited. Nights with you are my favourite, Y/N.” He smiled, slinking his arm around your waist to pull you closer towards him again. Your hand went straight up to his hair, threading your fingers through the brown locks and massaging away the stress of the day.

“Tell me more.” You spoke softly to him, not needing to fill the room with your voice when he was so close to you.

“The only way to describe how I feel when you’re here, is this is the warmest bed i’ve ever slept in.”

His eyes caught yours and you could tell there was a hint of sadness behind those pretty eyes of wonder. You furrowed your eyebrows thinking about him being even slightly sad, because if you could you’d keep him in a bubble of happiness forever.

Leaning in, by not very much, you used the grasp on his hair to pull him closer towards you and meet your lips. You watched his eyes follow the movements of your lips, before closing his eyes when you closed yours. You pushed your lips onto his, hoping he could sense how much you loved him just by the simple gesture. It was only a little kiss, but it was filled with as much passion and love as any other.

When you pulled back, Harry’s cheeks had gone slightly rosy and a little ringlet of hair had fallen to his eyes. After moving the hair back into its place, you moved back so you weren’t completely breathing in each other.

“What was that for, hm?” He asked, looking at your lips to see that he’d left them beautifully tinted.

“I can tell when you’re sad. Your big soft eyes give you away.” You smiled at him kindly.

“Y’always tell me that.” He smiled back.

“Some people wear their hearts on their sleeve, whereas you wear yours in your eyes.”

Harry’s eyes smiled at yours, sparkling with so much love. His eyes often twinkled like a beautiful night sky when he was extra, deeply, in love with you and this was one of those times. Other times had been when he’d first met you at your local chippy, or when you gave his nephew your chocolate chip cookie even though you’d been looking forward to it all day, and especially when you’d met him at the end of the aisle.

“Now you don’t look so sad.” You took note of his eyes looking happier.

“That’s because now i’m thinking of you.” He chuckled like a 14 year old girl having a crush.

“And who were you thinking of before?”

Harry didn’t need to verbally answer because his eyes did all the talking. The way they down casted to look at the space between you both and his lips slightly frowned, made you realise he was thinking of his ex-girlfriend. The woman who tainted his heart to profit off of his fame. The ex-girlfriend that broke him so dearly that you were afraid to be the one to fix his heart.

“She doesn’t deserve a second thought from you, H. Or anyone, for that matter.” You told him, knowing sometimes he just needed some reassurance.

“I know. I’m not sad because of what she did or who she was. I get sad thinking about who I would be if I’d never have found you.” His eyes re-met yours and you could tell he needed a little bit of loving.

“You would’ve been okay. I believe you would’ve been strong enough to mend your own heart.” You smiled warmly, reminding him not to take himself for granted.

“Maybe. Still would mean a world without you and a bed left cold.”

“But I am here.” You told him, attempting to get him to realise the positives.

“You are.” He nodded.

He leant in to give your nose a soft touch with his own nose, humming in appreciation as you tugged at his hair for a continued massage.

“So don’t think about her. Think about how strong you are and how loved you continue to be. You are a fucking amazing person, H, and more of a decent human than anything she’ll amount to.“

He kissed you because he couldn’t wait another moment not to. You were his and no one knew how much time you’d have together, so he’d take every kiss he could.

“I don’t know how I found you or if the universe just decided that it was our time to meet in this life, but I could never leave you, or this bed, knowing it’s the warmest i’ve ever felt.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles boyfriend blurb #boyfriendrry #fic rec harry styles #fic rec finelinevogue #harry styles blurbs #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles angst #husband!harry

[beamtori]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐬

ji changmin x afab!reader (he refers to you as "woman" LMAO)

1.9k words, smut (minors dni), a wrestle for dominance, use of handcuffs, lots of pet names (angel, baby, brat, good girl, my love), subtle praise kink, blowjob, slight handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it bffs), riding, kissing, biting, swearing (a lot), i think i got it all lol

a/n: uhm,,,, hi 🧍🏻‍♀️ first smut fic, check! @winterchimez convinced me not to gatekeep this lol but thank u ally and @zzoguri for making me feel better abt this :'))

The click of the handcuffs echoed through the quiet bedroom. The only other sounds were yours and Ji Changmin's heavy breathing. His eyes were dark as he lifted his head, his hands locked behind his back and white dress shirt stretched broad across his chest.

You stood between his legs to marvel at your handiwork. "Nice."

His tongue poked his cheek. "C'mon, angel. You can smile. I know you like seeing me like this."

The smile bloomed on your face, and you saw there was a twitch at the corner of his lips. He liked that you liked this.

"Well," you said, taking a step back, "I think I'm gonna go run to the supermarket—"

Your plans were foiled by his foot hooking around your leg and sending you careening over his chest. The both of you fell back onto the bed, his teeth gritting as all the weight landed on his hands and wrists. Your hands planted against his chest and you could feel his heart beat race as he wet his lips.

"Not cool," you said.

His eyes narrowed. "You literally have me at your mercy and the first thing you wanna do is go to the fucking supermarket?"

Fire curled in your stomach. "...Yes?" Your smile was impish.

He was not amused.

"Isn't that the pleasure of it though? Making you wait?" You asked, adjusting yourself to straddle his chest and gently drag the tip of your index finger down his plush lips, cleaving straight down his strained Adam's apple, all the way over the buttons that threatened to burst. You shifted your bottom half slightly, pausing when you felt something poking you right between your legs.

A slow smile. You locked eyes with him as you rolled your hips generously over his erection.

You bit your lip as a moan fell out of his mouth, his eyes rolling back. "Is this what you want, Changmin?" You murmured. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his jawline, then another up, and up and up, until you nipped his earlobe. "You want me to fuck you until you can't walk?"

You rocked your hips again, relishing in the delicious way you hit your clit then. You sighed in his ear and felt him jerk beneath you; he was itching to break free of the cuffs, to flip you over and have his way with you. To teach you a lesson.

But he couldn't. And wasn't that the fun if it?

"I think I really like you like this," you chuckled lowly. Your hand snuck between your bodies and reached the crotch of his jeans. A tent had formed there, and you cupped your hand over it. His cock throbbed in your hand—he jerked his hips upward again.

You tsked. "Nuh-uh," you pouted, caressing the side of his face, "only good boys get off."

A flash of something in his eyes. A muscle feathered in his jaw. "You're gonna regret this, angel."

"No, actually. I think I'm gonna have so much fun."

You straightened then, grabbing a fistful of the front of his shirt and managing to haul him up with you. He swore when you got him sitting straight up, his cock painfully hard against his zipper. You stood between his legs again, right in front of him, but completely out of his reach.

"Angel," he said, head cocking to the side like a predator, eyes narrowing, "if you let me out of these cuffs…"

"Don't even try that on me." You teased him with a boop of his dimple. You saw the annoyance flash across his face. "You agreed to this, my love."

"Then stop wasting time."

"Someone's impatient," you teased. Taking pity on him, you grabbed the top of his head and held him as you crushed your lips against his. He made a noise of relief, tongues and teeth gnashing together. You were keen to take your time, but by the way he fought against you, he was definitely trying to make a point.

You ripped away from him, his mouth chasing after yours, but too late.

He watched you tear your shirt over your head and give him an eyeful of flesh.

"You're drooling."

He snapped his mouth shut. "You just want to kill me tonight, woman," he snapped. "Please, just let me rip that thing off you. You can cum as many times as you want."

You didn't even pretend to think about it. "No."

His eyes darted from the pretty, lavender-colored lace bra to your eyes. "You know I'll treat you well, angel," he drawled. "Come on. Unlock the cuffs."

"No," you repeated, but this time, you hooked your thumbs in your pants and yanked them down.

He whimpered. "Not the garter," he gulped, eyes going to the ceiling like he was praying. "You want to kill me."

"Something like that," you mused.

You climbed over him again, practically shoving your lace-covered breasts into his flushed face. Your fingers dug into his shoulders. "You like it? It's new since you ripped the old one."

Changmin shoved his face into your chest and moaned like a man drinking water after a week in the desert. "Your tits are perfect. Fuck, please, just put me out of my misery."

Your fingers curled gently around the hairs at the nape of his neck as you let him kiss your cleavage. "It's so odd hearing you beg."

"You like that?" He murmured, mouth over your hardened nipple through the lace. "The sound of me begging you to uncuff me. To let me worship your beautiful body. To fuck you how you deserve to be fucked."

You yanked his head back by his hair and he growled at the loss of contact.

"I think you've had your fun," you said and stood again.

"Angel—angel, I…" The words died on his tongue as you sunk down onto your knees in front of him and nuzzled your face into his crotch. He thrusted his hips toward your mouth. "Fuck," he hissed, "please."

"Since you asked so nicely." You used one hand to hold down his thigh, and the other to pull his zipper down. A wet spot had begun to form over his boxers, and you could feel him fucking pulsing, he was so hard.

You peered up at him and let him watch you lower his waistband. His cock slapped against his stomach with a dull thump, the shaft reddened and dripping with precome. His chest fell and rose rapidly, his breathing heavy, as you wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft and licked right up the length.

A shuddering breath fell from his lips and grew more haggard when you wrapped your lips around his tip to suck on the salty bead that had formed.

You removed your lips. "Spit on yourself."

Changmin did as he was told. A glob of his spit landed on his dick and dribbled down the side. You used it to pump him once, twice—he let out a colorful string of swears, hips fucking up into your fist.

When you were satisfied, you lowered your mouth over him once more, and took him all the way to the base.

"Oh fucking—shit," he groaned. You began to bob your head up and down, taking him down your throat as best you could. "Yn, angel, you're so good to me. Oh my god, look at you—"

His thighs were shaking by your head and beneath your hands. Everything in him was fighting to not rut up into your mouth but you were choking yourself on his dick anyway. Your fingers fondled his balls, twisted at the base—you were practically dripping through your panties at this point.

His thighs tensed, and you abruptly pulled off him.

"Why—what!" He sputtered at the lack of contact. He had been close, and you'd known that.

His pretty cock was even harder now, standing straight up, angry and red and covered in your slobber.

You pushed up from the floor and nearly had your knees buckle from under you. "Shit."

"Angel, please just let me take care of you. You've been so good to me," he pleaded, lips jutting out in a pout. "Come on, baby. Let me return the favor."

You braced your hands on his thighs and kissed him so he could taste himself on your tongue. "I don't," you hummed, "think so."

He bit your lip at your defiance. "Brat," he huffed.

You grinned, hand dancing around his throat. "I'll make you eat your words."

"Well, I could've been eating you out, but—" He held his breath. You climbed into his lap again with one hand holding his shoulder and the other circling over the wet spot on your panties. "Is that for me?" His voice dropped lower. "You're so wet—and all from sucking me off? Good girl."

Something in you warmed at the praise. You had to snap yourself out of it. "That's not gonna work."

"Well, you're gonna fuck me anyways, right?"

"Starting to think I could finish up in the bathroom," you drawled teasingly, your fingers slipping past the drenched hem of your underwear.

He glared. "Don't you fucking dare."

You grabbed his cock and the breath in his chest left him. You raised your hips over his tip, rubbing it up against your weeping folds. "Don't I fucking what now?" You quipped.

"Oh fuck," he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours to watch you sink down onto him. You swallowed your moans down as you kissed him, walls stretching to accommodate his girth until you could seat yourself well enough.

The handcuffs jingled as he yanked at his restraints, his tongue pressing into your mouth.

You felt so full, and your thumb rubbed your clit to loosen yourself up. You whimpered into his mouth… and slowly began to swirl your hips.

"Mmmh," he hummed, eyes pinned to you to watch you fall apart. "That's it, angel. You can do it. Fuck yourself on my cock for me."

It was like second nature, listening to his voice and encouragement. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, your thighs shaking, your tits bouncing in his face. He braced his feet against the floor and helped you, thrusting up as best as he could with his hands still restrained behind him.

You choked when his tip found that gummy spot inside you, all spongy and sensitive. "Fuck," you hissed. "There—right there!"

"Doing so good for me, baby," he said, lips suckling on the soft skin at your throat. "You're so warm, so tight. I know you can fuck yourself harder."

And you did. That tightening sensation—it curled in the pit of your stomach—it wound tighter, tighter— "Changmin, Changmin, I'm close—"

"Me too, angel. I'm close—come on and use me—"

It wound and wound and wound—and then you cried out as that tension shattered, a cresting wave. Your legs shook and you fell over him. Changmin's teeth sank into your shoulder as his cum flooded into you. Your pussy lips fluttered; too much, too much, too much.

You both sat there for a second attempting to catch your breath. Sweat dribbled down the side of his face and the back of his neck, and you turned your head slightly to catch a bit of it, and kiss the warm skin there.

"You okay?" You rasped.

You felt a reciprocal kiss against the bite mark he'd made. That was definitely going to bruise. "More than okay. Holy shit. How about you, baby?"

"I'm great." You lifted your head out of his neck and giggled, meeting his soft smile and after-sex glow. You brushed the bangs out of his eyes, then kissed him. "Hey, I love you."

"I love you too," he said, nose nudging yours. "But I'd love you even more if you uncuffed me."

a/n: tbh the ideal way this would carry on is you unlock the cuffs and he makes you "regret" not uncuffing him earlier 🤸‍♀️

tbz m.list

#the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #ji changmin drabbles #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 6

Chapter Six: I Swear A Million Times To Hold You Just The Way You Like

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER AHH, (besties wrap it up!) Lowkey this chapter was poorly edited so sorry! Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk! (MINORS, please run away :,)

Word Count: 17.3k (I hope this makes up for the delay my bad)

A/N: HELLAUR HOOMANS! Thank you again for all the love and support you have given me for this series! I truly appreciate you all for being here <3 This chapter and episode feels a little bit personal to write since I am someone who also has PTSD, so when I watched Pedro’s performance during those difficult panic attack scenes, I truly felt represented and seen. For me, my PTSD is subtle and not overly loud or noticeable at first glance, so when I saw it being portrayed that way I started ugly crying pls--

Song: Sweet Disaster by Oh Wonder

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

THREE MONTHS LATER…

WYOMING WILDERNESS, HEADING WEST – DAY

It’s been three months since the incident, and neither of you spoke about what happened that morning in Kansas City. The past few months of walking West have proven a challenge as the seasons begin to change. As you suspected, you noticed Joel slowly let Ellie in; he taught her how to look for tracks and how to properly keep watch the first time he fell asleep. Her questioning, her loving attitude, her nasty language, everything entered his heart gradually. He hadn't planned on it, but he now cares for her. You, on the other hand, were already fond of her, you taught her the more “fun” activities. Like looking for more constellations as time passes by, continuing educating her ASL, and teaching a few of your favorite songs from your original reality.

You occasionally hummed as the seasons changed, trying to fill the silence and somber with music. Joel and Ellie didn’t seem to mind, you asked if they were bothered or annoyed but Joel grunted, “Better than Ellie asking a million more questions.” You simply chuckled while Ellie protested and began to defend herself. And then there were the moments you couldn’t quite label. Small touches between you and Joel, providing each other comfort now and then, knowing how bad the loneliness can get to anyone. A squeeze on your shoulder, the brushing of fingers, and if you were lucky, you’d get to hold his hand for a period of time as you trekked through the terrain. You swore there were times you felt his gaze roaming every mile of skin you had, but every time you turned to look he was already busy doing something else.

The branches have exchanged their leaves for white sleeves and all warm-blooded creatures make ghosts as they breathe. As gentle as feathers, the snow piles high, this world gets rewritten and retraced every time. After seeing Cody crawling with infected, you three headed out to the large forest to find out if Tommy is still alive and in hiding. Even Ellie tried to point out that there was a possibility he didn’t make it, but as Joel had said before, he was persistent.

You came across a cozy cabin hidden in the forest. Realizing you had no other options, you had to ask for directions to where you were at the moment. A quiet and nice old lady, named Florence had resided and mentioned she was with her husband, Marlon. After making the soup she told three of you that her husband wouldn’t be happy they were in their home. You peeked past the curtains and out the window you saw he husband returning from hunting in the forest, hanging out two white rabbits by the door. Marlon walked inside his home to find her wife sitting upon the rocking chair, her gaze slowly moving towards Joel, him with his revolver out while you and Ellie are upstairs, quietly watching from the mezzanine.

Marlon reluctantly places his bow and arrows on the side entry table, removes his gloves, and unzips his outer jacket, while Joel grumbles out, “And the gun.” Marlon grunts, “Who the hell are you?” Joel walks a bit closer while demanding for him to cooperate, he says, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it out of reach.” The senior does as he’s told and places it on the other table and asks his wife who was quietly watching the interaction, “Why didn’t you shoot him?” She continues rocking back and forth, “The gun’s all the way over there. He didn’t hurt me by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.” He nonchalantly replies and spots the empty soup bowl on the wooden living room table, “You made him soup?”  Florence gives his husband an obvious answer, "Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” He simply shakes his head and sits down on his own chair. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel states and the other man replies and removes his cap, “Well, I ain’t seen him.” Your cowboy shakes his head, “I haven’t told you what he looks like.”

“He look anything like you?” He asks and Joel tilts his head, “A bit.”

Ellie taps your arm and whispers to you, “It’s you and Joel from the future.” You frown and shake your head as you whisper back to her, “No.” The young girl rolls her eyes, “Whatever, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” You blink at her, and you’re seemingly left speechless.

“Then I ain’t seen him,” He says, “He’s got a girl and his wife with him.” You hear Florence say and you nearly choke on air in surprise. Joel turns to look at her, pissed, and confused, and didn’t even bother to correct her. Ellie yells next to you, “Can I come down?” Joel raises his voice at her, “No! Ellie!” You couldn’t stop her as she excitedly runs downstairs, and you have no choice but to follow her.

The elderly couple laughs knowingly, Joel looks at you and Ellie, “What did I just say?” And you give him an apologetic look and Ellie replies, “Joel, come on. They’re like a thousand.” Marlon questions aloud,  “Who’s this little psycho and her mother?” Your mouth slightly parted open, about to inform him that you weren’t married to Joel and you weren’t her mother but Joel dismissed it, “Never mind them. I need you to tell us where we are.” He went to the middle of the living room, shoving the map in his direction, cheekily the man throws back, “If you got a map, why you lost?” Ellie’s lips turn downwards as she replies sarcastically, “Must’ve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest.”

Marlon whistles out, “Holy.” And Florence chuckles, still enjoying the excitement that they haven’t had in years. Joel sighs and points out on the map, “We’re somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.” Marlon glances back at his wife, “Did you tell him the truth?” She nods, “Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you telling me the truth?” She doesn’t hesitate, “Yeah.” He lets out a deep exhale as he leans over, pointing where you all were currently.

Joel places his revolver back in his holster, his eyebrows are furrowed and he sighs in frustration, “Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess.” He sits down and you sit right next to him and Ellie mimics you both. “Hide? Came here before you were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.” Marlon replied as his wife gives her input, “I didn’t want to.” He grumpily waves her off and you lean next to Ellie, “Okay, there’s some truth in what you said.” She gives you a smirk in response.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother but if you’ve come this far, then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” Marlon asked while Joel clenches his jaw, and Ellie replies, “Yeah, got close enough. It’s crawling with Infected.” He hums in agreement, “Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel doesn’t give up and asks, “So you haven’t heard the name, ‘Tommy’?”

“Nope.” He simply says and Ellie questions, “What about the Fireflies?” Florence replies this time, “We get those in the summer.” The young girl frowns, “Not the bugs, the people.” Cluelessly the woman asks, “There are firefly people?” Her husband chuckles and Joel's frown grows deeper, creating harsh lines on his forehead, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The senior man doesn’t miss a beat, “Yeah. Go east. But you never go past the river here.” He then points to a specific location on the map, the blue stream that flows across the paper, “Ever.”

“What’s past the river?” Ellie asked, brave and a little naive, the kind wise Florence replies, “Death. We never see who’s out there but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not.” She turns to look at Joel, “If your brother is west of the river, he’s gone.” You lift your eyes to the man next to you, Joel has his eyebrows pinched, his gaze distant, and the lines by the side of his mouth are evident. Your heart sinks at the chance that the elderly couple might be right. “You’re not gonna scare us,” Ellie softly says and the woman answers, “Scared him.” Her husband chuckles and Joel scrambles to get out of there, not saying a single word, he’s grabbing the map and packs up the rest of his things.

You and Ellie are quick to follow after him as she comments, “You don’t seriously believe them.” Joel’s footsteps are loud with every crunch of snow, “They’ve lived here a long time.” He turns and you do too to see Ellie grab a rabbit, “Put that back.” Ellie doesn’t listen and swings the dead rabbit behind her back, “They don’t know anything. Never heard of the fireflies.” Joel unexpectedly stops walking, and you can hear his breathing become labored as he places his hand on the wooden fence, you angle your head to the right in confusion and concern.

Joel only hears muffled echoes as the ringing in his ears overpowers his senses, “Joel? Are you okay?” You softly ask and there is no response, you hear Ellie begin to worry as well and lines begin to form across your forehead. “Shut up.” His voice was barely audible as he places his hand on his chest. You jerk back, but you try to decode what was happening. Ellie then asks him, “Holy shit. Are you dying?” He shakes his head in response, “I’m okay.” But the world seems to spin around him, his vision feels blurry and the weightlessness he feels is unsettling, unable to process the news he had just heard and the possible chance his brother is no longer alive. The further he goes West, the more his paternal empathy is starting to merge Ellie and Sarah into one.

Yours and Ellie’s voices merge into one large echo as you both try and make sure he’s alright. “I’m fine.” You both don’t buy it, “No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you’re dead, we’re fucked.” Ellie said, referring to both of you, which seemingly brings Joel grounded remembering he is now a caretaker and guardian to the both of you, he turns to you as he assures, “I said I’m fine. It’s just the… cold air all of a sudden.”

You don’t buy it one bit but you don’t want to diagnose him immediately so you keep silent and listen to Ellie speak as she marches on forward while ducking under the wooden fence, “All right, uh… let’s go and find Tommy and, and the Fireflies.” Joel grunts and looks at you and you avert your eyes from him, quickly following Ellie.

“It’s gonna be easy,” Ellie said, stumbling a little but marching on, “All we have to do is cross the River of Death.”

All the bruises seem to surface like mud beneath the snow, your feet dug into the snow, a small thin path of footprints lay behind me, telling me where you have come from, but not where you are going. The winds were cold, almost freezing your skin with a simple touch. The icy winds blew against your jacket, the fabric keeping you warm, enough to feel comfortable but not to keep your cold thoughts away. You knew about Jackson, but you weren’t entirely sure where exactly the town was. You silently hope Tommy was fine and nothing had changed.

You gazed around the land, nothing but unending snow and ice, almost a hint that this land had gotten incredibly secluded through the years. After the trees reached the sky, children laughed and played, and the sounds of birds chirping in the woods woke me up from my long rest. It was almost as if the world itself was a part of you, but now that everything has turned frigid and awful, you hardly recognize it.

You see a river stream to your left, Ellie stops to look at it and rolls her eyes as she sarcastically says, “The River of Death. Scary.” Joel sighs, “Don’t start. It’s too close to dark. There’s some caves along the river. We’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.” Ellie smiles, “Good. I’m starving. Should’ve stolen two rabbits.” You ruffle her hair a little bit and Joel replies, “We can get our own rabbits.” 

Ellie excitedly asks as she looks up at Joel, “You gonna teach me how? You taught Birdie.” You bite back a smile from the memory, his entire firm body was behind you, hands on either side of you, the ghost of his breath as he whispered instructions creating a trail of goosebumps. If you were being honest, you were very close to kissing him, but you were too afraid to mess it all up, to ask if he felt it too, and continued to wait for him to be ready. “Just keep movin’.” Joel dismisses her and the girl sighs in frustration and exhaustion. You look to Joel, your eyes gazing into his brown ones, hoping that if you stare long enough you could magically read his mind, then turned to trail after Ellie.

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – NIGHT

Your campfire appeared to echo the starlight and bounced off the walls of the small cave as if the flames so close and so distant had so very much to say to one another. It crackled and spat before hissing into life. Its lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. As that dry, withered stump slowly releases years and years of energy soaked up from the sun, the air, and the ground around it, outcome bright lights, whispering hisses, sizzling pops, and a thick, intoxicating smell of musky smoke and pine needles.

You sit atop a large rock by the edge with Ellie, both of your heads are tilted up, black heavens are the perfect stage upon which the brightest of hues dance. You could watch the aurora lights for infinity and always see that it is new, a unique moment and beauty in all of existence. Rays of light fall from the sky, making drapes that stretch across the sky. And they are reminiscent of fluttering drapes or curtains in the wind. There is also a violet and a crimson trim at the bottom and top ends. Sometimes the hues are blended together and braided into one another. New beams of light streaming down from space cause the curtains to vanish and reappear.

Joel looks up to find you both whispering and giggling, you are pointing up at the sky and moving excitedly as you explained the glow from the stars and the infinite rays of light creating waves in the cold midnight sky. He watches Ellie lean her head on your shoulder and you gently rub her back, eventually giving her a light squeeze as a form of a side hug. He brings his fingers to his lips, and a shrill attention-grabbing pierces through the air, both of you swiftly turn your attention to Joel who says, “Come down from there. You’re both gonna break your necks.”

You and Ellie make your way down the high rock, and both of you walk to Joel who was sipping from his flask. Ellie curiously asks Joel, “Ahh… Can I have some?” He shakes his head at her, “No.” The fourteen-year-old whines, “What? Just to warm up. C’mon.” Joel looks at you, and you were surprised he wanted your input or permission. You simply nodded, letting him give the metal flask to Ellie which she receives with a bright smile, she raises it in thanks and takes a large sip. Her face twists into a sour expression, her eyes shut for a brief moment while her eyebrows meet in the middle, “Yep… still gross.” Ellie hands it back to Joel and he asks if you want some to which you respond with a shake of your head. She lets out a little cough and Joel quietly sips from his flask.

“So, I’ve been thinking. Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.” Ellie says and you watch Joel shift his eyes a bit, trying to figure out where this is heading, “Okay?” Ellie raises her eyebrows as she asks aloud, “Then what? Like, what do we do?” Joel raises his defenses, trying to keep the invisible bricks intact steady, “Oh, it’s ‘we’?” Unintentionally you sigh loudly in exasperation, looking at Joel with your eyelids heavy, you nervously lick the bottom of your lip and cling to your patience as it slowly slips through your fingers like sand. Ellie also sighs and reforms her question, “Okay, fine. Whatever. You. Her. You both can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Joel clears his throat, “It’s never been an option. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch.” Ellie encourages him to continue, “Cool. What kind?” He replies while he smugly looks at Ellie “Sheep. I would raise sheep. They’re quiet… do what they’re told.” Ellie rolls her eyes and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Okay. So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic.” You smile at the thought of him living a domesticated life, no more danger or violence, just simple and safe. Joel hesitates a little before asking Ellie, “And what about you? Where are you gonna go?”

She raises her head high, looking up at the full midnight moon glimmering bright along with the twinkling stars, “It’s probably cause I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?” You create creases beneath your eyes as you smile widely, having a pretty good guess as to who. You and Joel say the same thing at the same time, “Sally Ride.” Ellie grins, “Sally fuckin’ Ride! Best astronaut name ever. How about you Birdie?” You blink twice, “What?” She raises an eyebrow, “What are you gonna do when after I save the world? Are you gonna try to go back to your world or whatever?”

You've trusted and refused every compass you've followed, and the same is true of an ever-changing concept of right. You wrap your arms around your middle, and your shoulders rise and fall as you breathe, “Um… I actually haven’t thought about that. I don’t know.” She looks at you with confusion and questions “Don’t you want to go back home?” Her inquiry causes you to shrink into yourself a little more, not wanting to answer, craving to distance yourself from Joel and Ellie’s gaze. You swallow nervously and look down at your worn-out boots, “I… Maybe. It might take a long time before I could figure out something. But to be honest Ellie, I never felt… at home there. So many things that I had before, but they don't matter to me now.”

Then it becomes quiet for a bit, you watch Ellie blink a couple of times, the crackling bright glow of the orange fire illuminating on side of her face, as she begins to question the future before her, she couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll work, right? The vaccine?” Joel looks down unsure, “It’s a little late to start wonderin’.”

“I tried, with Sam,” Ellie says as she doesn’t bring her eyes to either of you, your eyes soften at her admittance, none of you have talked about what had happened, not wanting to dwell on the past too much, but to hear her finally bring it up giving you a sense of pride, for her to have the courage to speak about something so traumatic. Joel continued the conversation by asking her what she meant, “Tried what?” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at either of you, choosing to gaze into the campfire, “I knew he was infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him.” Joel softly says, the wind carrying his words into the night, “Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that. Marlene, she’s a lotta things, but… she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.” Ellie doesn’t say anything as she nods and he takes a large gulp from his flask, throwing his head back as he does.

The fire crackles loudly, but Ellie’s voice could be heard as she asked, “You wanna take first watch or second?” Joel grunts out, “I’ll do both. Get some sleep.” You opened your mouth to dispute him, saying that you could do the first watch but he doesn’t let you get a single syllable in as he narrows his eyes at you, “No.” You huff in annoyance and say nothing. You and Ellie get up to go deeper into the cave as Joel says to the both of you while grabbing his rifle, “Dream of… going home to sheep ranches on the moon.” Ellie gives him another nod, “I will.” 

WYOMING WILDERNESS, CAVE – EARLY MORNING

The snow forest feels to the rest of the world like a gift waiting to be opened. Upon the ascent of the daylight, the wilderness is so bitter cold. It exudes a clean aura that invites the soul to pause for a minute and allow the sight to permeate the soul. You live in the moment, the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future you dream of even in the cold. The last of the morning stars were blinking out tragically above you. They glowed like bling-silver grains of sand in the early sky. It was a sight to see as their bejeweled splendor faded into nothingness. A ghostly, orb-white winter moon lingered there, eerily similar to a faint strobe light. A halo of brilliant golden encircled its waning brilliance. The sky around it was a vast sheet of grate-grey, with a plum-purple hue near the horizon.

You woke up a bit earlier than usual, and you found Joel passed out, laying on his side and using his jacket as a pillow. You could hear the birds squawking from above the trees, and see the campfire had dimmed. Quietly, you pushed yourself up and grabbed the rifle he had left beside him. You did the usual checks to ensure the safety of everyone, and to see if there were any tracks or unwanted animals lurking around. So far, luckily, you three were safe for the time being.

You made your way back to the cave, finding Ellie alert and awake. She looks at Joel and then back at you, and you raise your finger to your lips, indicating that she should let Joel rest and be quiet. The young girl nods in understanding, silently walking towards you, the both of you taking watch. You let Ellie practice what Joel had taught her and let her hold the rifle in the meantime. And she did everything perfectly.

As time passed and the sun began to rise from the east, you hear Joel mumble in his sleep. You tuned your ears to his whimpers and mumbling, catching the words, “Supposed to be me… Supposed to…” You frown in understanding and worry, you had your fair share of nightmares fueled by guilt. Joel startles awake, gasping for air as he pushes himself up frantically searching for his rifle, only to find you and Ellie standing guard. Ellie couldn’t help herself as she quips, “Still mumbling in your sleep. Birdie and I woke up early. You were passed out, so we both took second watch.”

Joel’s fury sprang to life as he stood up, “You gotta wake me up if that happens. Both of you can’t do things like this.” You felt a flash of irritation as you say to him, “But we can… ‘cause we just did.” He’s quiet for a moment, caught off guard by your reaction, then he speaks, “I’m responsible for both of you, okay?” Ellie is quick to throw back, “Then don’t fall asleep.” She began to recount detail and instruction Joel had given her before when he taught her while you proudly smirk at him, “What can I say, man? I’m a natural.” Joel grouchily nods, “Uh-huh.” And gestures to her to give him back the rifle, he nods at her in approval this time, “You wake me up next time.” Ellie rolls her eyes and smiles sarcastically, “Yes, sir. But you should know that Birdie woke up before me.”

Your eyes widen at her, “Ellie, don’t throw me under the bus!” She chuckles at you as Joel gives you a pointed look and you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to try and argue, instead he just shakes his head, “Let’s get goin’.”

The cold air stung your cheeks and you pulled your scarf up closer to your face. As you looked around you took notice of the white blanket of snow covering the trees, ground, and mountains. The smell of damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean. The world around you was frozen in a glaring white quiet. Nothing made a sound, nothing moved, nothing sang. Winter's slavering teeth have vanished. Its piercing winds had stripped the trees of their final leaves, leaving them naked and brooding in a harsh world. They were groaning beneath the weight of the snow, encased in their medical coats. A great limb would occasionally groan, shatter, and collapse. It sounded like an explosion went off in the jungle. Apart from that, the woodland was engulfed in an eerie stillness. There was no morning chorus, sound symphony, or avian orchestra. The entire globe was encased in a dome of quiet. Winter's lethal grasp has strangled and suffocated all life on the planet. Snowflakes fluttered down on the three of you, sylph-like in their airy quiet. They glinted like crushed diamond dust as they landed. A shimmering winter scape of white and silver.

The sudden gunshot disrupted the peace of the forest, and the startled geese began to honk and fly off into the distance, Joel waits for a bit to ensure it was safe to cross the bridge, Ellie observes, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does, “The River of Death. Still no people.” Joel grumbles out, “Fine.” Then proceeds to stand up, and walk to the entrance of the bridge as you and Ellie closely follow him from behind.

As you continue to make your way across the bridge, Ellie tries to whistle like Joel, however, no high pitch sound comes out, just puffs of air. Joel turns around in confusion, and Ellie’s reply is muffled by her fingers, “I’m learning how to whistle.” And Joel looks at her incredulously, “You don’t know how to whistle?” She retorts, “Does it sound like I know how to whistle?” He says the obvious, “No.” You laugh, letting yourself enjoy the little moments of peace with the two. “Seriously, though, how the fuck do you do that?” Ellie asks walking a little bit ahead and you walking side-by-side with Joel, he harrumphs, “Talent.” And you lightly smack his arm at his response, and you swore you saw him give you a small smile, Ellie mutters, “Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt.”

“Huh.” Joel states, and Ellie mocks him, “‘Huh’. Like. ‘She’s a girl. She can’t handle it.’” Joel speaks as he trudges through the snow, “You can handle the shootin’. Not so sure about the dressin’.” Ellie sighs, “What’s the dressin’?” You and Joel walk a little bit past her and he replies, “The part where you take the guts out.” And your nose scrunches up at the thought while Ellie says, “Oh, yeah. Why do they call it dressing? It’s like you should call it undressing ‘cause it is. It’s like… undressing from the inside.” She paused for a bit to catch her breath before saying, “Still interested, though.”

The sound of water rushing fills your ears as you waddled through the snow, stumbling upon a large structure. Dams were mechanical temples that harnessed the victorious powers of water, power, and terrestrial fertility for human advantage. “Dam.” Ellie said, and you rolled your eyes in amusement while Joel tells her, “You’re no Will Livingston.” She quickly throws back at him, “Yeah, yeah, but who is? So that made electricity?” Referencing the Dam in front of them, Joel mutters, “Yeah. Don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.” Ellie laughs, “You know, you could’ve just made something up. I would’ve believed you.” Joel answers, “Ask Birdie, she’s practically a walking encyclopedia.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or amazed at the fact you know what an encyclopedia is.” You quip at him with a smirk and his lip quirks up in a small smirk at you, and his eyes twinkle with mischief and desire as his pupils slightly darken, “Smartass.” You winked at him, “You like it.”

“Damn right.” He said with his eyes unwavering from yours, and you felt every atom in your body spark to life. Joel’s heavy breathing stirred the tiny hairs on your neck, sending a shiver into every cell of your body. Ellie disrupted you both as she makes a disgusted groan, “If the two of you are done flirting can we please keep moving?” The heat of embarrassment rushed into your face, leaving you speechless as you decide to break away from his stare and keep marching forward.

“Look at that river. It’s crazy blue.” Ellie said then was immediately quiet after, somewhere between then and now irony slipped its way into her vocabulary, laughter became an anecdote for guilt, sacrifice grew to be a band name for shame and unnecessary death became a nightmare that rode her piggyback. At this point, the thought suddenly struck her, “Hey, Joel, Birdie… what if this is the River of Death?”

Joel grabs the map from his jacket pocket and unfolds it, checking to see if Ellie was right. The cold wind harshly bit into your skin as you three stared at the crystal blue river. At first, you couldn’t see them, but you could hear them—the snapping of twigs, the crunch of snow, and the clopping sound of horse hoofs. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in. Joel tried to grab you and Ellie to run, but they were too quick, and organized, and had you surrounded in seconds with their guns and rifles pointed at you. “Get behind me,” Joel said, slightly pushing both of you behind his tall frame. You all raised your hands up, and showed no sign of aggression, Joel shouts, “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. We’re just passin’ through.”

“Drop the gun,” the harsh voice ordered in front of you, Joel does as he’s told and so do you. “Both of you… take five steps back.” the man says, and Joel tries to reason with him, “How ‘bout we just talk this through?” And the unknown man unrelentingly replies, “How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” Joel's shoulders tense, “Okay, easy.” He turns to both of you, Ellie has her eyes wide open and mouth slightly parted, her hands slightly quivering and you trying to steady your breathing, “You’ll both be okay.”

You follow the orders given to you and take five steps back and you hear the man ask, “You been near Infected?” And Joel replies, “There’s no Infected out here.” He doesn’t buy it one bit and retorts, “The hell there ain’t.” He whistles and you hear a short, abrupt vocalization, relatively loud and high-pitched, changes in frequency, the bark of an excited dog, “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.”

The black large dog continues to bark and its handler removes his leash, he prances over to Joel, sniffing him up and down, jumps up to place his paws on his stomach, looks at him then whines, not finding any indication of the virus. The dog walks back over to his handler for a treat while Joel’s Texan accent becomes heavy, “Like I said… we’ll just move on.” The man still has his rifle pointed at you as he sits atop his horse, he nods over in your and Ellie’s direction, “Now both of them.”

Your heart drops, and you hear Ellie’s breathing become shaky. The flip in your stomach takes over all of your senses, you are frozen and unmoving as you watch the dog crouch lowly and growl at you and Ellie. Joel turns back to glance at you both and you’re worriedly looking at him. He turns around, not bringing himself to watch, the world becomes quiet, the silent ringing returns, and his lungs are clawing for air. It brings him back to that moment when the world took her away, his Sarah, the powerlessness and helplessness feeling that had followed him over the past twenty years. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders that faithful day.

The sound of a high-pitched bark brings him back to the present, he hears you and Ellie giggle and turns to find you and her completely fine, happily rubbing and petting the dog as the creature licks and wags its tail. The man whistles and the dog is called away, you and Ellie stand up from the snow and hear the leader say, “You just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?” Joel quickly replies, “I’m just lookin’ for my brother. That’s all, nothin’ more.” A beautiful woman, whose skin was as rich and deep as any stately home mahogany, exclaims, “Ho!” And walks her horse forward, “What’s your name?” He answers breathlessly, “Joel.” And his name became the key, the password, and the answer, for them to escort you into their town.

You three were given and allowed to ride your own horses, the cold wind rushing past me. The sun’s rays of light are covered by the darkness of the clouds.  Hooves, galloping along the plush white snow, the loud clopping and crunch fill your ears as you hold onto the reins. In the distance, you see a large wooden wall with a giant gate, men and women stationed on top, ready to shoot any intruders. One of the men raises a red bandana, a signal to one of the guards on watch.

The large gate opens for all of you, the horses begin to trot at a normal pace as you take in the sight of Jackson. Underneath you are fluffy, cold snow. The sounds of slush fill your ears. You watch as the misty fog escapes your mouth anytime you take a breath. Every time you inhale a frigid prickle enters your lungs and every time you exhale the heat from your breath warms your lips. Around you are naked trees covered in powder-white snow, glistening in the daylight. The town is neatly arranged, and it felt comfortable and safe. You spot the Tipsy Bison on the right, a location you recognized, then bring your eyes to observe the people around you. A thriving and collaborative community, stable enough to provide and care for the elderly and children.

You continue on forward, spotting Tommy on top of the scaffolding, helping with construction work. You angle your head to look at Joel as he shouts at the top of his lungs, “Tommy!” His brother stops what he’s doing to look at Joel, then he proceeds to run down the steps leading up to the scaffolding, Joel urgently dismounts from his horse, and the people around town watch as the two brothers reunite, a large impactful hug from the both of them, secure and firm. Their shoulders move up and down as the two laugh loudly, finally, all of the pieces align and the balance is clearly defined, he sighs and settles down for the first time.

Tommy smiles as he asks his older brother, “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Joel looks at you and Ellie for a second before back to Tommy, replying, “I came here to save you.” Joel begins to laugh again, his chuckle a melody you’ve rarely heard before, a sound you keep in your back pocket just in case. 

You bring your gaze to Ellie, whose expression is mixed and jealous, sensing that she’s now a bit less important in Joel’s life. You look back at the two brothers, turning down the volume of your heart, the massive table of countless dominos, all lined up and weaving in and out of each other, every relationship and decision in every piece of domino, subconsciously shrinking the row of dominos the best you can. Eliminating your opinions or wants and desires, convincing yourself that this will be simple by just focusing on the needs of everyone else but yourself. The only form of control you’ve had looks like empathy to understand all sides.

MESS HALL, JACKSON COUNTY, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The mess hall was large, warm, and inviting. The indistinct chatter fills the giant wooden cabin, lightbulbs twinkling from above, and dining tables lined up neatly. Ellie was sat in between you and Joel, she is scarfing down her food, eagerly eating everything that was on her plate and so was Joel. You were meekly eating, trying to not draw attention to yourself, as you quietly chewed on your potatoes. “There’s more if you need it.” And you soon come to realize that this must be Maria, the way Tommy’s body language is drawn and pulled close to her, you smile when you hear Joel reply politely, “Thank you, ma’am.” And you also offer your thanks to her and she nods in your direction in acknowledgment. Joel cuts into his food as he says, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.” Ellie pipes in, “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fuckin’ amazing.” You wince in second-hand embarrassment and so does Joel, he turns to Maria, “Sorry. Ellie… let’s mind our manners.” Tommy smirks knowingly. At one moment, another girl furtively looks at Ellie, until Ellie loudly says “What?!” and scares her off. Joel’s lips turn down and his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What’s wrong with you?” Ellie doesn’t relent, “What about her manners?” 

“She was just curious. Kids around here don’t usually look or talk like you.” Maria points out and Ellie nods, “Right… well, maybe I’ll teach them. And I want my gun back.” Maria shakes her head, “They also aren’t armed.” The young brave girl glares at her in response, Tommy decides to step in, “You know what? Uh… I think maybe ya’ll got a little off on the wrong foot.” Ellie raises her tone and points out, “She was gonna have our guys kill us.” Joel gives her a pointed look, an indication for her to stop being disrespectful but Tommy calmly responds, “Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it’s all bark. We’re just trying to scare off those who might wanna try us is all.” Ellie nonchalantly says, “Well you got a couple of ninety-year-olds who shitting themselves out there.” You and Joel chastise her quickly, “Ellie.” But she doesn’t care, “They say that you leave dead bodies around?” Maria doesn’t deny the ugly truth, “Those are the people who tried us.” Tommy adds, “A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.” Maria narrows her eyes at Joel as she comments, “Not always, at least.” You feel your anger flare up from your chest as you grip your knife tighter, glaring at Maria for suggesting such a thing.

Joel swallows down his food and his shame, “Ma’am… we’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.”  You place an elbow on the table, using your hand to hide your face in embarrassment as you squirm in your chair, you hear Tommy clear his throat, “Well um…” You peek past your hand and watch him grab Maria’s hand, spotting the wedding band on his left ring finger, “Maria is family, actually.” Ellie blinks in surprise as she says, “Oh, shit! Congrats.” You bring your eyes to Joel’s unmoving figure, frozen in shock from the sudden news as his breathing becomes unsteady, Ellie softly whispers to him, “Joel, say congrats.” The all-too-familiar cold tone is unmistakable as he grits his teeth to say, “Congrats.” There’s an awkward silence between the two parties, and you take a large gulp of your water and Tommy offers, “How ‘bout a tour.” You nod as you’re the first one to get up from your chair, not liking the possibility of conflict between the two brothers, “Yes, please.”

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The town had a large plaza, and a giant vibrant Christmas tree in the center, Maria spoke as she walked, and the rest of you followed, “We settled here about seven years ago. Just a handful of us back then.” She points out a section of the town, “That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.” Joel warily looks around, “And you said Infected?” Tommy nods, “Yeah, but usually in smaller colonies, wandered off from the cities. All this open country out there… it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from half a mile out.”

“Can you teach me how?” Ellie asks and Joel is quick to respond for him, “No, he can’t. How do you keep this place quiet?” Maria replies, “Carefully. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.” Joel stares at his brother and Tommy shrinks away from his pointed look, you listen to Maria as she explains the purpose of each building, “House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as a jail, not that we’ve needed it.” Joel looks to one of the electric poles, “And you draw power from the dam?” Maria confirms his suspicion, nodding, “Got that workin’ a couple years ago. After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights.” Ellie shakes her head, seemingly impressed, “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

The group makes their way to the farm, and a herd of sheep passes by, and Ellie points it out as she smiles at him, “Hey, Joel, check it. Baa.” Ellie playfully swings her arms back and forth as she asks Maria, “Are you, like, in charge?” She looks at Tommy for a bit before replying, “No one person’s in charge. I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving three hundred people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.” Tommy picks off where she left off, “Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership,” to which Joel replies, "So, uh, communism." Tommy's knee-jerk reaction is, "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that." His discomfort with the term pulls from over a century of distortion of the fundamental principles of communism. “It is that, literally. This is a commune. We're communists," Maria states modestly, to which Tommy’s discomfort at the thought causes him to stagger a bit, to which you offer, “I can try and explain it later.” Tommy nods in thanks and you give him a reassuring smile.

“No way!” Ellie exclaims as she makes her way to the stables, Maria trails behind her and you follow the two ladies, “That’s our newest one. Couple months old. You wanna pet her?” Ellie’s smile is as bright as the sun and her teeth as white as the snow beneath you, wide and happy, “Yeah, what’s her name?” Ellie asks to which Maria replies, “Shimmer.” Your smile falters a bit, recognizing the name from the second game, but you shake it off, not wanting to keep looking into the future. “Shimmer you’re so beautiful,” Ellie says as she pets the pony gently, completely enamored by her beauty and gentle grace. Maria turns to Tommy and discusses the possible sleeping arrangement, “Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower, some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us.” Her husband nods in agreement, “Yeah. It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since the ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it. Could do worse.” Ellie carelessly remarks, “Oh, trust me, we have been.”

Joel has his eyes narrowed and annoyed, “We’ve been doin’ fine.” You get the slight feeling he’s being defensive, and Maria looks at you and Ellie, and tells her husband, “Well I’ll take her and Ellie over there if you two wanna catch up.” Tommy then looks to his older brother for approval and Joel nods, “Yeah. Okay.” You and Ellie whip your head to face Joel, slightly unnerved and fearful of the unknown, and potentially Joel pushing you both away. “Joel.” Ellie says and he brushes her off as he walks away, “You’ll be fine.” Maria asks the both of you, “Shall we?” And having no choice but to follow her you both nod, “Uh, yeah.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – AFTERNOON

The warm hot shower soothes your skin as you wash off the grime and dirt of the last few months. At some point, you had decided to sit down in the bathtub of the shower, letting the water hit your skin freely, your eyes distant and gaze unsteady as you watch the steam of the shower move to the light. You hug your knees close to your chest, rest your chin on your knees, and finally let yourself go. 

The haze takes over your vision, a sculpture of water and unsettled dust, and your exhausted mind only wants to be carried home. So you fight with the concept of grace while attempting to hold everything in place. You were so full of life that you could barely hold it in. You were amateurs at war, strangers to suffering. Your questions ricochet like broken satellites. How did your bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die? Your nights have grown so long and now you beg for sound advice, time has been ruthless and unkind, every turn in the corner of the maze only to be faced with a dead end, the trapdoors you couldn’t see, and the lives that were lost to your journey to Jackson. You felt so vulnerable and fragile, the fact that the foundation of society was shaken to its core due to the pandemic, governments, families, and lives as you know them, will never be the same again. As life replayed, you hear the voice in the back of your mind proclaim, to let the brokenness be felt until you reach the other side.

The sting in your eyes as the tears escape from your eyes, allows for the cold embrace of the depression you’ve kept hidden and at bay for so long. Sometimes you pretend you are evergreen and keep your cards close to your chest. But this time you allow yourself the reprieve, as you quietly sob into your hands and gasp for air now and then, letting every little fracture of you shatter out loud. Wondering if your messes mattered and if all the chaos counted as you felt empty-handed. You had set sail along the universe's ocean of the unknown with cheap wood and tried to patch up every leak that you could until the blame grew too heavy.

You reflected on the world that you were unintentionally placed in, presenting the world through a different lens, a world that turned hostile and dangerous. But a story that explored how nevertheless you can still find love and meaning, the longing for human connections, and how willing you are to sacrifice everything to safeguard the people you love. 

You hadn’t planned on it, the greater weight of the truth settling inside of you. Fundamental resilience and a built-in resistance, and against your judgment, prevent you from completely surrendering yourself from truly giving up on being human. You open your eyes and slowly rise to your feet, placing your palm on the wall, you blink and try to look past the undefined and fragile promise at the light at the end of the tunnel. You nod, shakily you breathe, and whisper to no one in particular, “I guess that’s how it goes.”

After the mental breakdown in the shower, you stepped out of the bathroom fresh and felt a little bit lighter. You lift your chin a little higher and open your eyes a little wider despite the puffiness in your eyes. You are wrapped in a towel, and as you make your way to the foot of the bed, you find fresh clean clothes to wear and a menstrual cup. You smile at the thoughtful gift and find a note, that reads ‘I’m just across the street. Come by when you’re done.’

You get dressed and make your way down the hall to Ellie’s room, you knock on her door and call for her, “Ellie? You there?” When no reply came, you slowly opened the door to find her gone and after investigating a little bit, you see a similar note from Maria. You figured she had already gone over. You leave her room and walk across the street to Maria’s house, knocking on the door and Ellie opening the door for you. You smile at her as you walk inside, appreciating the warmth already provided by the fireplace.

You take a good look at the living room, yellow curtains by the window, a messy coffee table with an unsolved crossword, and a large cozy couch facing the fireplace as it crackles and roars. Your eyes catch the small blackboard sitting on top of the fireplace with two candles on each side. Ellie walks over to it and you follow closely behind her as she stares up at the two names. Kevin and Sarah, with the dates, that they were born and taken away too soon from this world.

You let out an uneven exhale and feel your frown deepen, as the flashbacks of Joel’s life come back to you in a blur. The scream for mercy, watching him tear apart with each cry and wail from his hoarse voice. The day the world ended was the same day his world ended. Something broken that cannot be fixed. You both turn your heads to the sound of the back door opening, Maria enters bringing the cold wind with her until she closes the door behind her, “Oh, good. Just traded for these two. Go ahead, try it on.” She hands Ellie a deep purple long coat while yours is A sophisticated medium gray with the barest hint of violet. The young girl comments as she wears her purple puffer coat, “It’s, uh, super fuckin’ purple.” You bend down a little to help Ellie with her coat, fixing the collar and the lining, Maria nods, “Eggplant. It fits?” Ellie replies, “Yeah.” Maria continues to fuss over her as you put on your coat, “Shoes aren’t too big?” She answers, “Uh, no. Where’s our other stuff?” Maria lifts her shoulders, “Rag pile. Did you both get the thing I left you?” You merely nod while Ellie bluntly replies, “Yeah. Weirdest gift ever.” Maria nods in agreement but says, “But useful. Who’s been cutting your hair?”

“Uh, world-class salons,” Ellie says plainly and it earns a laugh from you and Maria, “Let me get my scissors.” Ellie’s mouth opens to protest but Maria doesn’t let her argue, “Trim. That’s all. Just the ends, I promise. And her too, she’ll go first so you can see that you have nothing to worry about.” Referring to you as she walks to the kitchen. You ruffle Ellie’s hair and whisper to her, “Just let her,” to which she sighs and takes a seat on one of the dining table chairs.

The trim was much needed. Maria had cut your hair in the style you wanted with such precision and skill. You happily thanked her with a polite smile, sat down on one of the other chairs, and let Ellie go next, of course, Ellie being the curious kid she is, begins to interrogate Maria, “So, this was, like, your job back then or something?” The sharp snips of scissors fill the silence for a bit before she answers, “No, I was an Assitant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put the bad guys in jail. I always liked doing hair though. Maybe it was a mom thing.”

“Damn, that’s pretty impressive.” You said and she gives you her thanks and asks, “What did you do for work?” Your smile falters, “Um, I used to be a researcher, a Quantum physicist.” The quiet was nice for a moment before she comments, “You both were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?” Ellie answers for the both of you, “Uh, yeah.” She stumbles on her words, “I’m- I’m sorry about your kids.” Your nails dig into your palm and listen to Maria reply, “It’s okay. And kid. Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel’s daughter.”The heavy silence that follows tells Maria that Ellie didn’t know that before, and you find it harder to breathe, “Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay. I guess that explains him a little,” Ellie says and she brings her eyes to you, “Did you know?” You squirm, the feeling of deja vu from when you first heard those words from Joel, the accusatory glance, and the betrayal in her eyes. “Yes,” You said and she scoffs at you, “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?” You pull back and raise your eyebrows at her, “You and I both know that was never my story to tell or share. No amount of knowledge will ever excuse the fact that I can never talk about what happened without Joel’s explicit consent.” Ellie resigns from her lashing out and nods at you with understanding, and you simply sighed. Maria chimes in, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you what you both are doing with him.” 

“Good.” You and Ellie say at the same time, quickly protective of Joel but Maria continues with her statement, “But there are clearly things you both don’t know about Joel.” You glare at Maria while the teen remains typically testy, “Oh, like how he used to kill people? We know about that.” Ellie rebukes with vigor and impresses Maria with it somewhat, “So then you understand my concern.” Ellie’s anger flares, “He doesn’t do that anymore.” And Maria is quick to question, “He stopped killing people?” 

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?” she asks to which Maria’s lips form a thin line, “Tommy was following Joel. The way you both are.” Seemingly sees Joel as a bad influence, someone who pulls people into his orbit and leaves harm in his wake. “Well, maybe, we’re smarter than Tommy. No offense.” Ellie states and you sense distrust in Maria, “You are definitely smart. Both of you. You would have made a hell of a lawyer, Ellie.” The woman says as she puts away her scissors and stands in front of you and Ellie, “There’s a whole lot you’re not telling me.” None of you answer, to which Maria nods, “Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in,” she warns you and Ellie. “The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust.” Ellie clearly resents the advice and Maria’s distrust of Joel, perhaps because she senses there’s a good reason for it and none of you want to admit it.

“You understand?” Maria asks and you both hum in acknowledgment. “Now come on.” She says as she walks to remove the towel around Ellie’s shoulders, “Grab your super fuckin’ eggplant coat.” You allow yourself to laugh at the callback and get up from your own seat, shuffling to put on your gray coat to which you hear Ellie ask, “Where are we going?” Maria smiles, “The movies.” Ellie sighs and ties her hair back, while you say, “I’m actually gonna go for a walk. Get familiar with the surroundings. You okay to go by yourself, Ellie?” The brave teen nods, “Mhm. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Tell me what you think of the movies later, okay?” You say and she smiles and agrees, “Okay.” You tuck your hands in the pockets of your coat, yelling a thank you and goodbye to Maria as you headed outside to the cold winter of Jackson.

MAIN STREET

JACKSON, WYOMING – SUNSET

You tried your best to help around as much as you could with the stables and the children, doing some work to pass the time. The clouds collected again around sunset, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and slowly from a sky devoid of wind, in a gentle universal dispersion more perplexing than the morning's blasts. It appeared to be a part of the growing darkness, the cold night itself falling on you layer by layer.

The amber glow of the string lights, the burn barrels doing their best to keep parts of the area warm, the steam following the wind but the bright glow of the fire emitting from inside shine through. Most people at this hour have already decided to go to the dining hall to watch the rest of the movie, but you continued to wander around the empty main street of Jackson.

The world is an outline of shapes you used to know, hidden in plain sight. The drapes suddenly pulled back slowly, as though pulling a ribbon. You've been distracted, but you're no longer trapped in the static. Despite the fact that your hands are prone to trial and error, you cross your fingers for anything to hold. Here in the shadows of letting go, you can't help but wish for a brighter future. You spot Ellie from a distance, her figure crouched down as she eavesdrops through the door of a nearby workshop. You tilt your head and quietly walk towards her, to which she still turns her head to you, lifting her finger on her lips indicating to be quiet. You decide to follow her request and crouch next to her, hearing Tommy and Joel quietly conversing with each other.

Joel started, “It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish. What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know she saved my life there… from another kid. Birdie got hurt too… Five years ago, I would’ve destroyed him. But she had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old. Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.” You shudder at the reminder and the two of you listened as Joel broke, bit by bit, his voice started to quiver, “And Birdie had to protect Ellie 'cause I asked her to… and she didn’t even have the experience or skill that I had… I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save her, while I just watched. And today I thought that dog was gonna tear both of ‘em apart because it smelled somethin’ on them.”

“And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t… move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid.” Joel’s breathing was ragged as he spoke, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, “You think I can handle things, but… I’m not who I was. I’m weak.” He believes he bears little resemblance to the man he once was or could become. No action hero, he admits to being far less capable of recognizing and reacting to threats than he used to be, and to sometimes being paralyzed by fear. You slowly start to feel your eyes sting again as you hear the tremble in his voice, the brokenness you’re all too familiar with, “Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it’s stopped. And I have dreams. Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asks, and you listen to the triggered tripwire every time he breathes, the tremble in his voice gives you that he was beginning to cry, “I don’t know. I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up… I’ve lost somethin’.” You allow your own tears to fall, covering your mouth to cover your whimpers as you listen to him admit, “I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail them again and again.” Tommy states, “You want me to take them.” And Joel continues to cry as he says, “I’m just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them.” Tommy tries to call his name to calm him, “Joel.”

“I mean, it’s why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?” Joel asks with a clear glaze in his eyes, he begs his younger brother, “Well, here’s your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You’re younger than me. You’re still strong. You said it yourself, you’ll come back. You have to take her. You have to give Birdie… that sweet, smark, and kind girl,  a chance to live a life here. A normal life here. Please.”

You take Tommy’s silence as agreement and the tears fall from your cheeks as you try to muffle your cries. Joel breathes, “And you can’t tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, on them both, what’s under their skin… they’ll shoot them. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

“I’ll take her out at dawn.” You hear Tommy say and Joel sigh of relief. You feel Ellie tug your coat sleeve, indicating you need to leave before they realized you had heard the entire conversation. 

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – NIGHT

None of you spoke as the two of you walk into the night, heading back to the temporary house that they had provided. You opened the door for Ellie and she ran straight up to her room, while you walked up the steps to the master bedroom. You quietly shut your door sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, you sniffed and try to will yourself to stop crying. You stared blankly at the floor as you swung your feet, patiently waiting and deciding what to do next.

The options you had were limited to figuring out how to get back to your previous observable universe or facing the truth about how you felt for Joel and your fondness for Ellie as if she were your own daughter. This meant admitting that you also needed to discuss what you wanted with Joel. To wake up and wage war with this gravity that has been holding you back for almost all of your life, the epiphany of finding so much worth fighting for, and either way all the lines of dominos will fall and cascade.

You were too in your head to hear the shouting from across the hall, the argument between Joel and Ellie, a crucial turning point in the central relationship. You hear the bits and pieces of their yelling and arguing, “You have no idea what loss is,” is a pretty awful thing for him to say. And in both, she tells him that everyone she’s ever cared about has either died or left her, “Everyone—fucking except for you. So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else because the truth is that I would just be more scared.” Joel’s painful response, “You’re right, you’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” You flinch at that, “Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways.” Then you hear the loud slamming of the door of Ellie’s room, and your own frown deepens, you feel your heart race, as if you feel the climb of the track of the rollercoaster, building you up and then taking you back. It’s a while before Joel decides to go to the bedroom, he had decided to sit in the living room to remember Sarah one last time before letting her go.

You anticipate Joel’s footsteps, the thud of each step, and hear your door open. Joel finds you sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over, your hands shaking in your lap as you try and hold yourself together. The quiet dim glow of the yellow lamp by the bedside table illuminates your features. You don’t look at him as he calls your name, you choose to look at the floor, he tries again, softer, “Birdie…” You only blink in response, the only indication that you heard him at all, you hear him step a little closer to you, “How much did you hear?” In a barely audible response, you shakily whisper, “All of it.”

Joel began, “Birdie… it’s for the best if we–” You cut him off before he could even finish, sharply turning your head at him as you stood up, “Joel I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.” He feels breathless as he registers what you said, “What?” You blink back the tears and try to look him in the eye, a little more alive as you let the scale tip and feel all of it rushing through you like a restless river stream, you feel your chest expand as you breathe and say, “If you don’t want me… if you don’t feel anything for me. Just say it and tell me now and I’ll figure out how to get back home on my own. ‘Cause I can’t keep going like this… dancing around you and pretending I don’t have feelings for you.”

You shake your head, “I’ve spent my whole life asking and searching for the impossible and none of it made any sense to me… And then I… I found you and Ellie. For the first time, I felt whole.” Your hand clenches near your chest as you utter, “Was I just delusional or imagining things? ‘Cause all of this… push and pull is hurting me. Do you even want me?” Joel steps a little closer as he says, “Yes.” And you look up at him and take one step back, “Then… why? And don’t you fucking dare make it an age-gap excuse or I will kick you in the balls Miller.”

He stumbles over his words, “I’m afraid. I’m so, so, afraid Birdie. That I could fail to protect you, Sweet Girl. The light that you give, the kindness you’ve shown, I’m scared I might taint it. Take away something so good in this world. You deserve so much more than what I could give.” Your face pinches in frustration and tears fall down your face, your cheeks warm and eyes puffy from all the sobbing, “Don’t I get a say?” And he’s quick to tell you, “Of course you do.” You scoff and angrily wipe your eyes. You pause and take a good look at the man in front of you, it's a fire and a goddamn blaze in the dark and he started it, you say from across the room, “Then let me choose you, Joel. Please, please, don’t leave me here.” He’s quiet as he takes in your words, and you continue, it’s uncomfortable but right, you say, “I don’t care about what was written about in your history. In the end, I want more than the life that I choose, and I want it to be with you.”

The silence that fills the room is one of heaviness and anticipation. The churning fear that pours out of you, and the inheritance you did not seek or ask for. You watch as Joel breathes heavily at your confession, taking his time to process what you said and felt for him. Someone who he deemed no longer worthy of receiving love. Slowly, you show him who he is and who he could be, and try to initiate the heart, bringing himself to let it open up properly. All of a sudden, you changed his mind and pulled back the curtains a little at a time.

You were on a frequency, the perfect opposite of him. Though he never needed any proof to trust the heart that beats inside of you. He can't keep his head from spinning out of control, but he will try to breathe ‘til it becomes muscle memory. He’s only steady on his knees, but maybe with you, he’ll one day stand on his own two feet. To struggle gracefully and let the scaffolding inside of him be strong enough to hold his tired body up once more.

He licks his bottom lip out of nervousness, and directly looks you in the eye, “I want you, Birdie.” You feel the rush of heat through your body, and stutter, “W-What?” His gaze darkens as he looks at you with need and desire, seemingly made up his mind to just give in, to let himself want and need you. “I said, I want you Birdie. Will you be mine?” He takes a step closer to you and you stay frozen, eventually, he’s towering over your frame, his eyes so dark you can no longer see the honey-brown eyes you were familiar with. You can’t help it. You’re drawn in by the force and pressure of the tempest building in those damnable eyes. Your heart is loud as a drumline, the thumping noise and heat in your ears as you feel the magnetic pull into his warmth, you feel his breath against your lips as you whisper, “Yes.”

That’s all it took, and with slow deliberation looks at you up and down. His inspection seems to last for hours, though it must take only seconds. The air between you crackles, and you want to move toward him, to close the gap between you. But you stay rooted to the spot, waiting for him. He lingers for a moment on your lips before finally lifting his head to meet your eyes, and his lips meet yours. You didn’t grow up, we grew in, like ivy wrapping, molding each other into perfect yins and yangs. You kissed with mouths open, breathing his exhale into your inhale. You could have survived underwater or outer space, breathing only the breath you traded.

You felt his warm rough large hands bring one hand to your waist and the other to cup the side of your cheek as he kissed you. You felt the tickle of his facial hair on your cheek, and each breath and groan vibrated throughout your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers rhythmically through his salt-and-pepper hair. Happily sighing breathlessly as he continues to kiss you dizzy. Like a whiskey, you can feel it he hits so strong but tastes so sweet.

The rush and thrill consumed you, the slick wetness between your thighs and his hands moving to cup and grab at your ass causing you to gasp in pleasure, to which Joel decides to pull your bodies closer ‘til no space lies in between. His presence was too powerful, his scent too all-consuming. It crowded your lungs, filling them with clean earthiness and rich spices. When you were around him, it was easy to lose myself, no matter how upset you were.

When he carefully dropped himself to the ground, the movement was both proud and obedient. His breath brushed over your skin. “Do you want this?” His fingers ran down the back of your leg, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Your thoughts were jumbled, but you had enough sense to realize this wasn't about sex. It was all about being vulnerable. It was a landmark event disguised as insignificant and distilled into one phrase. “Yes.” That was both demand and submission, a groan and a gasp. Joel exhaled. He carried you to the plush bed in the center of the room, appreciating everything you could give him. Clothes were quickly removed, and he stripped you down to your barest form while he kept his boxers on, an evident hard-on showing but choosing to take care of you first.

His palms burned as they parted your thighs. He’d barely touched you, and you were already on fire. You tipped your head back, drowning in arousal, heat, and lust and the reverence of his touch as he kissed his way up your thigh. His stubble rasped against your skin and sent tiny shocks of pleasure down your spine. As he separated your thighs, his palms seared. He hadn't even touched you yet, but you were still immediately burning. As he nibbled his way up your thigh, you threw your head back, reveling in pleasure, heat, lust, and the devotion of his touch.

“I'm sorry I offended you…” A gentle kiss at the fine line where your thigh meets your leg and persistent heat. “For attempting to drive you away…” Your underwear was removed and tossed to the side as he softly stroked your clit with his tongue. When he dragged your clit into his lips and sucked, his abrasive words mingled with your scream. Your body arched away from the bed. He began to worship you with his lips, hands, and tongue as your hands dug into his hair and you could barely hang on. Joel was rigid but beckoning. Delicate but sinful. You felt a new rush of pure sensation with every movement. Your chest and the base of your spine are both under pressure at the same time. You were soaring high solely on passion and desire, out of breath. He backed away and lightly touched your delicate clit with his teeth. He inserted two fingers into you and plunged and curled them as you wilted carelessly.

Your body was familiar to him. Knew precisely what you wanted, how to operate it like a well-tuned guitar, and even what buttons to press and where to press them. He stroked your G-spot while simultaneously pressing his thumb into your clit. When Joel stood up, his chest heaving, the strain was dizzying as your orgasms ripped through you and your moans were still echoing in the air. He gently kissed your lips as he leaned forward on top of you, bracing his hands on each side of your head.

When you kissed him and cherished the flavor of the kiss, leisurely threads of need twisted inside you. Like desperation flavored with desire and soothed with compassion, robust and rich. You explored and licked the inside of his mouth as you panted. He moaned in hunger and want, “Birdie…” Your hands roamed, your hearts pounding in sync and your kisses growing in intensity until the heat became too much to bear. 

He took off his boxers and you flipped both of you over with the help of gravity, and you gradually sank into him, taking him in, inch by inch until he was buried deep inside of you. Hitting deeper, and tasting sweeter. You rocked against Joel as his hands held onto your hips. A delightful pressure swelled inside of you, rising higher and higher until your head was distorted with lust. Sweat misted your skin. Moans filled the air. He was certainly straining to hold back, but he made no move to take control as you both experienced toe-curling orgasms at the same time. When Joel brought you down for a kiss, the second, smaller climax that the overpowering intimacy of the moment had triggered was still reverberating through you.

Your eyes are half-lidded as you pull away from the kiss and look at Joel, who’s heavily panting, breathless, and in awe of you. Joel flips you both over, and your back hits the mattress. He kisses you again, still, inside of you, you are still sensitive from your previous orgasm and cry out, “I can’t…” He pants and groans, “Yes you can sweet girl. You can do it. One more for me Birdie.” He’s hitting deeper and quicker as you try to squirm away from him but all he does is pin you down, grabbing your hands to lock them above your head, causing you to scream and cry out in pleasure. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl.” He praises, and everything feels and sounds amplified, every thrust his hips make, the sounds of slick wet skin slapping together, each grunt and moan mixing and blending between you both finally brings you and him over the edge. He pulls out and paints your stomach while you clench and moan throughout your release.

He folds over atop you, his weight is a welcoming feeling, like a large protective blanket. You’re running your fingers through his hair as he continues to catch his breath and you hum happily, “You good cowboy or do you need a wheelchair?” He grunts, “Haven’t done that in a while. Cut the man some slack.” You laugh loudly and kiss the side of his forehead and he sighs with contentment. After a while, he rolls off of you, pulling you closer to his side, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, “I’m goin’ to get a clean towel to clean us up.” You nod as he gets up, walks over to the bathroom, comes back with a clean rag, and wipes off the slick between your thighs and stomach.

He sets the cloth aside and climbs back in bed with you, tossing the blanket over both of your bodies, gripping your hips, and pulling you close. You kiss him again, just because you can and both of you are smiling widely at each other. You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you place your forehead on top of his, and Joel grumbles, “I should have pulled out earlier.” To which you yawn, “I have an IUD, it’ll expire in ten years.” Joel’s mouth opens, “You have a… oh right.” You laugh, “Yep. So I can keep riding you, my cowboy.” He smacks your ass and kisses you again as you yelp in surprise, “Keep talkin’ like that and we’re not gonna get any sleep tonight.” You roll your eyes in response but smile up at him.

The quiet between you two is comforting and allows you to rest your eyes, no awkwardness, just a blistering moment of peace. The night sky once ruled your imagination and you used to turn the dials with careful calculation. After a while, you thought you'd never find him and convinced yourself that you would never find him.

Then suddenly, he saw you through telescopes and calculations, the far was pulled so near. You opened your eyes to find yourself under his warm gaze, trying to memorize every feature as if you were constellations in the night sky. But the looming threat that hangs over you makes an appearance in the dark corner of the back of your mind, you whisper, “Joel.” He hums in acknowledgment and you continue, “You should give Ellie a choice. She also has every right to choose too.” He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs agreeing, “Yeah… Been thinking about it a while ago before you jumped my bones.” You smack his shoulder, “I did not!” To which he kisses you breathlessly, “I’ll give her the choice tomorrow.” You nod and cup the side of his face and he says to you so quietly, “We have a long way to go.” To which your eyes softened and kissed the tip of his nose, “Yes, but look how far we’ve come.”

THE RANCH, MASTER BEDROOM

JACKSON, WYOMING – EARLY MORNING

In the morning you don’t say it as both of you wake up to your bodies closely tangled with each other. His heavy arms are wrapped around your waist and his legs are inserted with yours as he kisses the back of your neck. Continuing to worship your entire being. You both had woken up early, sharing the water in the shower, to which you had both agreed you needed to save water, but it was just an excuse to keep touching each other.

By the time you both got out of the hot shower, you both got dressed and made your way to the stables. The chirping of birds brings you to smile at yourself as you brush your horse, preparing to leave. “You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asks the both of you, causing you to look away from the task and tilt your head and smirk as Joel replies, “No. We came here to steal the horses and go.” To which Tommy says, “I woulda given you them.” And Joel replies with, “I know,” He sniffs and walks to Ellie before continuing, “Anyway… that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess… you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy…” It’s no surprise that Ellie shoves her bag at Joel, “Let’s go.” He blinks and you laugh as he answers, “Okay.”

Both of you exit the stables with your horses, Joel helps Ellie mount his horse and you mount your own horse. “General direction?” Joel asks his brother, “Head southeast til you hit I-25. It’s right off the interstate. Shouldn’t be hard to miss.” He nods at Tommy before they both pull each other into a hug. They pull away and Tommy says, “There’s a place for you here… All three of you.” Joel gruffly says, “Countin’ on it.” And he spots Tommy’s rifle swung across his shoulder, “Can I borrow that?” Tommy nods, “Yeah.” But Joel continues to talk, “‘Cause Maria took mine.” Tommy throws him a look, “I already said yes, Joel. Adios, big brother.”

The large wooden gate’s latch is lifted open as your two horses trot through the snow. Exiting the safe, gated, community of Jackson. Your journey continues through the wilderness of Wyoming. The cold chilly air creates goosebumps at the back of your neck as you ride your horse past the tall emerald-green trees.

After a couple of hours of riding, Joel decides to teach Ellie how to shoot with the rifle. The sound of loud gunshots rings out as Ellie misses the main target. She sighs and Joel comments, “Wide right. You’re flinchin’.” You stand behind the two, enjoying the view of Joel and Ellie having some time together. Ellie shakes her head at him, denying, “The target’s too small.” Joel harrumphs at her, “I made it bigger than I should’ve. Eject the cartridge.” She does as she is told, and said, “I am not flinching.” Joel hums, “Mm-mhm.” Ellie doesn’t let up, “The rifle just sucks.”

“Okay, give it,” Joel said and Ellie gives it to him and whines, “It doesn’t aim right.” Joel only hums again, “Mm-hmm.” And Ellie frowns as she lifts her binoculars, “You’ll see.” They swap places and Joel grunts as he adjusts the rifle, “A deep breath in, slow breath out.” The girl sighs and Joel glances behind him to look at you, “You squeeze the trigger like you love it.” Your face warms at the memory of what happened last night and what he could be insinuating. You try to hide your smile, he winks at you and then looks to the scope, his voice getting deeper, “Gentle… steady… nice and slow.” Ellie drops her binoculars and groans, “You gonna shoot this thing or get Birdie pregnant? ‘Cause holy shit you guys were loud.” You choke on air at the same time Joel looks at Ellie shamelessly before looking back at the scope with his finger on the trigger. Ellie shakes her head, continuing to be in denial, “It isn’t gonna work. It doesn’t aim right.” A gunshot rings out, and it's a perfect headshot. “You dick.” Ellie says while Joel just smirks smugly and turns to look at you, “Birdie would know.” You throw your head and hands up in exasperation, “I fuckin’ can’t with you two.”

Wind bustled through the branches of the trees, making the leaves howl in their symphony. The horses trot through the snow, as the three of you make your way to the University of Eastern Colorado. The silence is no longer present, only filled by Ellie’s questions and Joel's answers. You occasionally input your own thoughts and ideas, correcting Joel when needed, but otherwise, you let yourself watch them form a connection that Joel was so afraid of.

“So the way they ran stuff in Jackson, was how things used to be?” Ellie asked, and Joel replies, “No. The country was too big for that. Back then, there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything. And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.” Ellie hums, “Which one were you?” And you hear Joel reply, “Neither. I just did my job.” To which you chuckled, knowing that Joel has always tried to stay neutral in anything, it’s more efficient that way.

“Which was… building?” Ellie asks, and Joel confirms her guess, “That’s right. Houses, stores, that kinda thing. We were called ‘contractors’.” The teen mocks his voice, trying to deepen it, “The contractor. That’s pretty cool.” Joel smiles, his lips quirking a bit to the right, “Yeah. We were cool. Everybody loved contractors.” You rolled your eyes at Joel, letting him off the hook and not wanting to correct him at all.

The days go by and you three have been closer than ever. Joel and Ellie discuss the basics and rules of football while you hum to yourself the new song stuck in your head. Enjoying the sight of Joel and Ellie laughing and smiling over mundane topics, feeling your heart more full than ever before. A part of you that had been missing so long, a family you didn’t even know existed, a family you now found.

Further down the road, you pass by the sign indicating to take the I-25. “Well, how ‘bout that? Made it in five days.” Ellie adds, “Easy days. I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.” Joel’s mouth curls downwards, “Still time to find out.” To which Ellie mimics his baritone voice, “Still time to find out,” she then creepily whispers, “The Contractorrrr.”

The horses snort and huff as its hooves clop and trot on the pavement of the road. You make your way to the entrance of the deserted university, Ellie says aloud, “Home of the Big Horns. What does that mean?” And you answer, “It was their team mascot. It’s a kind of sheep.” Ellie smiles up at Joel, “Oh, see? One step closer to your dream. Don’t see any Fireflies, though.” He forms a hypothesis, “They’re probably in the middle. Safer.” He nods and leads, “This way.”

Joel has his rifle ready with one hand on the reins. The campus is eerily empty and quiet as your horses trot on the grounds. “So these places… people would live here and, like, what? Got to classes and stuff?” And you nod, “Yup. Sometimes even do research, like me.” She points out, “Even though they were adults.” Yours and Joel’s voices blended together as he answered, “Sort of adults.” While you said, “They were fake adulting.”

“I think it was just as much about partying and findin’ themselves as anythin’ else. Figuring what they wanted to do with their lives.” Joel plainly puts, and Ellie chuckles, “What they wanted to do with their lives.” To your happy surprise, your ears perk up when Joel says, “So I’ve been thinkin’.” You and Ellie urge him to continue, “I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?” And Ellie nods, “That’s the deal.” He faces the road ahead with a gaze so soft you barely recognized him, “Well… when I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.” Ellie laughs while you smile widely at him, teeth showing and cheeks pinched upwards, the kid says, “Shut up.” While you say, “Come on Cowboy, let’s hear it. Serenade me.”

“No, you’re both already laughin’.” He grumpily replies, his eyebrows knitted together, and both you and Ellie protest, “Well, you’re singing for me later. I’m gonna save the fuckin’ world, man. It’s the least you could do for me.” Joel relents, “Fair enough. Birdie, what about you? Have you changed your dream yet?”

You smiled at the two people you’d gotten close with over the past few months, the unlikely bond you now were a part of, “I have everything I need right here, what else would I need to dream about?” you said. The two of them looked at you, wide-eyed and breathless at your statement. How funny it is to think, we only notice light when darkness crashes against it. The melody you carry is the strength while they come undone and the aftermath that makes them new.

Content with your answer, you trot forward with your horse and you three stumble upon a troop of monkeys that presumably escaped from a lab, Ellie exclaims excitedly, “Are those monkeys?” The troop proceeds to run away as Joel says, “Must be from the old labs.” The young girl laughs, “Look at them go.” Joel glances at her and asks, “First time seein’ a monkey?” Ellie parrots as a reply, “First time seein’ a monkey.”

“Lookit.” Joel points out to spot a Firefly symbol, “Here we go.” Ellie says, and your head in the direction of the research lab. As you arrive at what looks to be the entrance to the lab, “Guard stations.” Ellie states and Joel hums, “Mhm. No guards.” Ellie is unnerved and wary, she asks to take out her gun, and Joel allows it.

You dismount your horse and tie it to the tree, Joel and Ellie do the same. You arm yourselves as you walk inside the lab. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the deserted building, you look to the ground to see documents and masks littering the concrete floor. “There were definitely doctors here,” Ellie says looking at the test tubes and you spot a brown file on top of the metal trolly. You lift the cover of the folder, peeking at the papers, your eyes skimming over the words while lifting up the yellow sheet of paper, “This is a packing list. They moved out of here.” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow, “They just left?”

And on cue you hear the sound of metal clanging from upstairs, your heads whip up in the direction of the noise, and Ellie remarks, “Maybe not all of them.” Joel takes the lead as you make your way up the stairs, hearing the clanging sound getting louder. Joel finds the specific door to where the noises were coming from, and he readies his pistol, slowly pushing the door open, slightly creaking as it does, to be followed by a high-pitched screech.

Two monkeys hop out of the room through the window, screeching at you for disturbing them. You all lower your weapons and survey the area. You snort at the fact it was so anti-climactic for nothing, Joel utters, “Well… at least it ain’t Clickers.” And Ellie mumbles, “Yeah, no Fireflies either. Maybe in all that research, they turned into fuckin’ monkeys.” You and Joel sense her disappointment, her need for reformation, and ways she could be better in her mind.

You look through the medical equipment and research notes, trying to look for clues to where the group of researchers transferred. Joel approaches the large wooden corkboard, a map of the United States is on display along with notes pasted on the side. You and Ellie walk up next to Joel to analyze the pins pushed in the lines that trace along the roads leading to the center. “That’s where they went?” Ellie said, pointing out St. Mary's Hospital, located in Salt Lake City, Utah. Joel nods, “All the pins lead there. Maybe gettin’ ahead of the weather… better facilities? I don’t know.” The joy in you vanishes against your will. The light goes out and your heart goes still, and just like that, you believe in ghosts.

But then, the trio hears voices. Looking out the window, Joel sees four men armed with weapons, they were raiders. You were weighed down by dread, the flutter of fear in your stomach causes your palms to sweat and tremble. You needed to get out of here and fast. Joel quietly tells you both, “Out the back.” You run down the steps and find the back door, your guns are drawn as you stealthily make it back to your horses, staying ever vigilant. You’re a few steps away from your horses, Joel turns to you both asking in a hushed tone, “Ready?” And you both nod, “Yeah.”

You run to your own horse while Ellie and Joel untie theirs. Something caught your eye in your peripheral vision, a blur of a shadow, and you turn to see a man carrying a baseball bat, lifting it while running at Joel. Ellie screams his name out while you ran towards the attacker, the baseball bat breaks as he tries to hit you but instead strikes a tree. You didn’t think, you just acted, protecting the two people who kept you safe for the majority of your journey. Shoving him with as much force as you could, the raider hits the tree, and Joel comes to your aid, grabbing the raider to break the man’s neck.

You didn’t even realize it until Joel had turned around, in the struggle, the sharp wooden hilt of the bat is stuck inside his abdomen, blood seeping out through the jacket. Ellie’s eyes grow wide in horror and Joel looks down, and grunts as he pulls out the sharp hilt of the bat, you scream, “No, don’t!” But you were too late, and Ellie yells your name, “Birdie you’re also bleeding!” You look down at your own abdomen to find a large slash across it, the maroon blood dripping on the freshly fallen snow, you direct Ellie, “Get Joel on the horse now. We need to leave before…” You hear yelling from a distance and you aim and shoot at the raiders with one hand as the other clutches your stomach while Ellie helps Joel up and back onto the horse.

You use all the strength that you have and pull yourself up to your horse, following Ellie as she shoots them back with you, she yells, “Get back!” And you three were in time to get away from all the other raiders coming. After a few minutes, you three have managed to make it to a safe distance from the attackers, “They’re not following us, I think we’re safe.” Joel doesn’t reply, and Ellie voices her concern as her voice rises as she says yours and Joel’s name.

He’s the first one to collapse from his horse, and you go toppling down as well. You feel the plush landing of the pile of snow, Ellie immediately comes both to your sides, and she says in distress, “Fuck! Shit, no, no no.” The cold weather mixed with the blood loss you were both dealing with were not the best conditions for either of you. “Joel, Birdie, open your eyes come on.” You bring your tired eyes to the girls and cough out to Ellie, “Place pressure on his abdomen and drag him using his sleeping bag, the rope, and the horse Leave me here and find someplace warm.” Ellie can feel her eyes sting and her vision goes blurry, it feels like bittersweet poetry. You softly grab your hand, “Listen to me. Ellie.” She tries to shake her head but you gritted your teeth, the adrenaline had begun to fade and you were beginning to feel the sharp pain across your stomach, you grunt and squeeze her soft small hands, “Ellie, remember what I asked you to promise? Go. Please, save him.”

It had been a campfire night out in the woods at the university and Joel had fallen asleep again during watch. You had both been talking about mundane things, to your hobbies and what you missed about home, to ask about what her life was like in FEDRA school, at one point you realized that there would be a difficult decision to make and that you needed to prepare her just in case it might occur. You didn’t memorize everything from the game, but you knew damn well there would be a possibility that you and Joel might get injured and Ellie would have to choose.

You grab her hand, abruptly stopping her from her previous sentence, and look her in the eye, “Ellie. There will be a time when you have to choose between me and Joel. In the event we both get badly injured, you need to save Joel, no questions asked.” The teen tries to protest but you silence her, leaving no room for argument, “Joel will protect you better than I ever could, we both know that. You need him more than me, I’ve been alone for almost all of my life… this is nothing new, but you… you are something so special. You must choose Joel for your sake, do you understand?” Ellie’s lips form a thin line, and stubbornly she shakes her head, “No. I’ll save you both. Just you watch.” Your eyes soften at her naiveness and hope, “You can’t save everyone, Ellie. So, I know it’s unfair to ask you this, but I need you to promise me to save him when it comes down to it.” Her eyes begin to water as she reluctantly tells you, “Okay.”

In a voice so broken and vulnerable, you hear Ellie whisper into the cold air as she puts pressure on Joel’s wound and looks at both of you, “I can’t fuckin’ do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel, Birdie.” You give her a small smile, “Ellie, sometimes, just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent. Keep going, Ellie.” She sniffs and she lets tears slip down her cheeks, you keep smiling as you use the rest of your strength to lift your hand to cup her cheek, wiping away the tears, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ellie. This was where I was meant to be. Thank you, Ellie, remember that you are loved.”

You feel your vision begins to fade and drop your hand from Ellie’s cheek, letting your head rest on the plush snow, no longer looking at the teen, you tearily look up to feel the snowflakes gently fall on your face. You distantly hear Ellie drag Joel and tie him up on the sleeping bag as a makeshift sled. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and start to droop, you turn your head to see Joel struggling to open his eyes, seeing your freezing, bleeding-out body staining the white cold snow. Joel cries out your name, pleading, “Birdie. Wait. No. Please…”

You look up at the bright gray sky, blinking and slowly beginning to only hear muffled sounds. Your horse decides to rest next to you, knowing what was about to happen, cuddling your bleeding-out body, and staying with you til the end. You decide that this was the best way to go, protecting and shielding the people you loved as much as you could. So you hum carols softly, as sweet as you know, a prayer that our burdens will lift as you go.

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

AGAIN MY BAD FOR THE HUGGGEEE DELAY – I 1000% blame the jet lag since I just flew out to somewhere on the East Coast! Sorry, ya’ll! T^T (Also the fuckin 5 hours of sleep, I am running on fumes rn)

YAY YOU KISSED AND SLEPT TOGETHER WOW GOOD JOB

UR OFFICIALLY HIS GIRL *confetti*

Holy fucking shit that was sO HARD TO WRITE

OKAY NOT BECAUSE I WAS UNCOMFY WRITING IT CHILL– its um, cuz, miss gorl here has never been properly kissed or um had a boyfriend lol so take a freaking guess to why

So writing a romance scene reALLY REALLY TESTED MY KNOWLEDGE, PATIENCE, AND HECKING ALL THE ROMANCE BOOKS I’VE READ PLEASE I WAS CLAWING MY WAY THROUGH THE ENTIRE TIME

I hope it wasn’t too awful or unrealistic :,))

HORRAY FOR FINALLY FACING YOUR FEAR AND VOICING OUT UR NEEDS AND WANTS GOOD JOB HERE HAVE A COOKIE

FUCK JOEL GOT STABBED MF

YOU ALSO GOT INJURED?? AGAIN?? WTF IS WRONG WITH U *bonk* ARE U DEAD OH NO? WTH!?!?1

ALSO MF PEDRO PASCAL IF I EVER MEET YOU I MIGHT HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN FRONT OF YOU AFTER YOU DESCRIBED PTSD SO WELL WTF– ahem, I have PTSD and I’ve never seen me represented properly in any television series or movies. It’s always (usually) war veterans yk (CALM DOWN— CHILL PRETTY VALID AND PRETTY DAMN FUCKIN TRAUMATIC) But as someone who has PTSD and yk hasn’t been to a literal war it’s a bit harder to connect or relate to it (im not fucking whining, I’m just telling you my experience with PTSD) But the way Pedro showed it— fuck man. It was like staring at a mirror. My own brokeness represented in one episode. I felt so seen for the first time.

BUT THIS ONE, MF PEDRO U DESERVE ALL THE AWARDS

yay for Maria and Tommy! Such cuties congrats on the baby!!

someone should probably help me find a boyfriend— idk i Need research for smut :DD (this is a joke please don’t)

This chapter was wAYYYU more personal and intimate to write about. I just needed to do this right for my sake and others. 

Sorry for the delay! The smut part was a little bit intimidating to write since yk I have zero experience with it LMAO

Thank you for sticking with me and I look forward to all of your comments and feedback! It gives me an idea if im doing this right and opportunity to connect with all of you! I LOVE YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH AND OFF TO EP 7 I GO AHHHHH

Grace

#uneven odds joel miller #unevenodds #uneven odds #unevenoddstaglist #alternate universe #joel miller masterlist #joel miller x poc!reader #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joelmiller #joel miller x reader au #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x modern reader #tlouhbo #tlou series #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou au

[the-wayside]

the me i am with you. 2.6k. gen. short missing scene between when wansarut and sakuna met to when they started to spend time together. canon-ish compliant. wansarut in this presents as male in the human world, but is still a female nagini and uses female pronouns to refer to herself.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“What would it matter, Master Garuda?”

The first time she encounters Master Garuda after she saved him, she stumbles wordlessly, confused and frowning as he looks down at her on the bank of the river. They are both dressed as they were, in whites and greens.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

The silence is long and drawn out but Wansarut doesn’t feel uncomfortable to have him look at her. His eyes are crinkled at the corners as he squints at her as if he can somehow read it on her skin. She wills herself not to look down. This male form to her is as known as her Nagini tail. Her name is secret and hidden, no matter who requests it.

“What would it matter, Master Garuda?” She tips her chin up, trying to make herself taller and bigger even though she’s lower down and he towers over her. “Are we not all the same to you?”

Gods are not born to look remorseful, but she thinks that’s what she sees on his face as he offers her his hand to help her up onto the flat. She doesn’t take it. Every step from the river fills her with apprehension.

He doesn’t stop her as she walks past him, further into the forest. He doesn’t trail her either. She wonders after walking for a time if such a simple rejection might anger Master Garuda further and set more attacks in motion. The thought stills her and seizes her heart, her whole body turning back on instinct. He isn’t there when she returns but there is a single white feather at the base of the tree near where he stood.

***

Wansarut is in the village today. It’s market day for the humans and the hustle and bustle of everyday life hides her very well, even though some look on her gold finery and either lust after it or see it as a reason to court her to their wares.

“My lord, my lord!” the vendors cry. She smiles and looks down at the seller who has a variety of hairpins. There is only one fashioned in gold. Similar to her headpiece which has the symbol of her people, this one has a U at the center and two brilliantly etched gold wings that fan out brilliantly from it.

“I think it would suit you.” A voice says behind her.

She startles and turns, almost knocking into Master Garuda.

“Would you wear it?” Eyes flick up to her hair and Wansarut fights the urge to reach up and touch her hairpin. There is something she cannot place about the god that has her so distinctly out of sorts. His lips are curled fondly as if they were amicable friends and his hand reaches past her to the jewelry, almost brushing her skin and she swears she can feel the sun in his skin warm her blood.

“Have you thought any more about my request?” She asks as Master Garuda turns his attention back to her and not the hairpin.

“I think I should think on it more.”

She narrows her eyes as he takes an almost jovial tone with her.

Sensing her displeasure, he smiles gently, “You know that this war is more than just you and I.”

“And yet you and Master Aruna have slain so many of us,” she says before she even understands her own words, too late to regret them.

However, rather than a burst of anger, Wansarut sees how Master Garuda struggles, first in his inability to name her, to direct his anger, and then to self-soothe. To repurpose the emotion and remain pleasant. She wonders why he would bother. Master Chalothon told them that the Garuda slay them without prejudice.

“There is death on both sides and it cannot be forgiven on a simple plea,” Master Garuda tells her quietly. She notices that their surroundings shimmer, Master Garuda hiding them from view as the humans walk past none the wiser to the two immortals in their presence.

“And without it, there can only be more death. How foolish.” Wansarut suddenly feels so incredibly tired. Maintaining human form is easy but conversing with someone such as the bird deity is incredibly taxing. “Master Garuda.”

She inclines her head, the most deference she can provide to him as he looks at her with those same searching eyes as before.

“Tell me your name.”

She doesn’t know why he keeps coming to her, why he doesn’t treat her as he has treated her kin but she feels the burning pain of their deaths as clearly as she feels the warmth of his presence.

“Read it on my epitaph.”

***

In her bed, her body writhes as the future yet to pass enters her mind. Master Garuda and Master Chalothon once again battle in the skies, gouging pieces of flesh to no avail. The screeching and beating of wings ring in her ears as she cups her hands over them to try and mute the sounds as they rattle in her mind.

She scrambles to see anything she recognizes, the shape of the clouds too ephemeral and the shade of the sky too bland until they slash across it in vermillion and emerald.

“Stop!” She screams. For them, for their kin and for herself.

Unlike hers, their ears are silent and hear nothing but their own blood coursing through their veins.

Her older sister, Wanwisa, brushes back her hair when her mind and body finally relax, pressing a cool piece of seaweed to her face. Wansarut stares up at the etched cavern, her own little alcove in the world of the Naga, water lapping up against its walls. Her tears are hot and she rubs them harshly.

“Sister,” Wanwisa tries to comfort her but they are not similarly blessed. Only she holds the visions of the future and the key to their survival within them.

“Why?” She croaks. Why must we hurt each other? Are we not born of the same blood?

Her older sister’s arms wrap around her and help to pull her up into a hug, fingers gently combing through her hair. She shushes her nonsensically and too rung out from her vision, Wansarut lets herself fall into her sister’s arms for a moment of peace, no matter how short.

***

When she sees Master Garuda next, she sees him well before he sees her. Sat up in a tree, she watches him walk, his bare feet crunching on the leaves. His white feathers are pristine and his skin is clear of blood.

She watches him crouch, fingertips touching the leaves he had not trodden on, picking one up and raising it to his nose. She realizes that he’s trying to scent something, someone, and she’s about to jump down to stop him when he looks directly up at her.

“There is no epitaph for the Naga who speaks with a Garuda,” he tells her conversationally.

“No, I don’t suppose there is,” She leans back against the tree trunk, a small smile unbidden on her lips when she notes his mistake.

“Will you really not tell me your name?” Master Garuda looks almost incredulous at the notion. “I have spoken with many and there is no young naga that travels in these parts. Only two sisters favored by the Naga king.”

“Two sisters?” She lets out a laugh, big and full. Is that all she is in the stories of others? “Is that not more appealing to you then, lord and master?”

“I do not care if he has a harem of women, I’m only interested in you.”

Wansarut looks down at him, the directness of his words like an arrow. She has long since abandoned hope that her affection for Master Chalothon might be returned. Many idiolize him and desire him as the strongest of their clan, his demeanor stern but kind with those he’s close to. His affection for her is that of a young sister. To hear such direct words, no matter how they are intended, shakes her.

“Your proposition is much too forward,” She replies and Master Garuda has the sense to blush delicately under his pale skin. She notes that it goes down to the top of his chest under his adornments.

He recovers, “You’re not so young to never have heard such a thing.”

“I am not so innocent but I am not so well favored either,” She admits as she drops herself down from her branch.

“Why not? You are a beauty.”

At that they both look away and Wansarut picks up another leaf, twiddling it between her fingers.

Master Garuda tries again, “What I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” She decides to save him the misery of trying to explain it.

“You have the most enchanting eyes.”

She can’t help that her gaze whips up to his.

“You will not give me your name,” Master Garuda laughs but it is airy and bright and such a pleasant sound to her ears, “I will give you mine. I am Sakuna.”

It’s a gesture of amicability that she never thought their kinds could have. Part of her wants to grab it with both hands so that it cannot slip away from her. She decides in that moment she will not.

“Wansarut.”

Sakuna’s face brightens up in a way that Wansarut’s heart begins to flutter and she almost reaches up to her chest to feel if it’s truly happening.

“Wansarut,” He repeats like he’s turning the word over in his mouth. “Shall we meet again, Wansarut?”

He spoke of how enchanting her eyes were but his are similarly so, if not more. He looks and she is seen.

“Meet who you will; it is no business of mine,” She tries to put a distance between them but it seemingly only encourages the god more.

“I only wish to meet you.”

“Why?” It slips out quickly and like a command.

A smaller, tighter smile appears on his face, “Because you were kind to me.”

“Are your wants so simple?”

Sakuna steps closer to her, “Yes.”

She could take a step back but she doesn’t.

“I’m curious about you, Wansarut. The only one who asks for peace and does no harm.”

“You make them sound like faults,” She folds her arms. Part of her wishes she had made herself taller so that she could stare Sakuna in the eye rather than still look up at him as he makes another step closer.

“There is no fault in you, I can see that as clearly as I did then.”

Something inside her stomach pleasantly churns at his words. She stamps on it.

“Nagini.”

She watches as his eyebrows draw together and his face scrunches up in confusion.

“I travel this world in many forms,” She gestures down to her current male form. In truth, she presents herself as male so that she can escape the boundaries of the Naga kingdom without alerting anyone to her disappearance, “Man, woman, even child if need be. When I am in the human realm, this is what I prefer.”

She doesn’t know what Sakuna is thinking and she knows that his kind does their best to avoid naginis. Their battles are fought between males, venting deep and dark aggression towards each other. Naginis do their best to be the protectors of their home and the rains.

Sakuna reaches out with a sure hand and knocks his curled knuckle under her chin, tipping her face up. It’s boyish and youthful, she had seen many fathers act this way with their sons.

“Come as you are, Wansarut,” he tells her softly, “I do not think how you look matters much.”

She has always known the expectations of her, to be wed and produce strong sons. Her mother delighted in her female face and how much she reflected the moon. Deep down, she was never desiring any of it. She was fond of Chalothon, thinking herself happy if she could wed him but after that, she did not think it suited her.

Sakuna’s voice draws her out of her thoughts, “Will you show me this world you visit so often?”

“I do not think there is much I could show you, Master Garuda.” Just because he told her his birth name and she thinks it, does not mean she is comfortable to use it.

“Show it to me anyway,” He smiles once again and bright crimson wings spread from his back. “I will see you soon, Wansarut.”

She watches as he breaks through the tree canopy and flies up to his home in the golden skies. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s smiling too. It’s how Wanwisa finds her with a call of her name.

“Sister!” Wanwisa looks like she’s ready to scold her. “You must change, Master Chalothon will be back soon from the battlements and he cannot see you like this.”

Wansarut looks down at her hands, still small but rougher and thicker than her base form, “Am I pretty like this, sister?”

Her sister looks at her as if she were the Greek Hydra that everyone is raving about.

“You are a man, Wansarut, what sort of beauty do you think you require?”

“None, I only—” She doesn’t know what she wants.

Willing her body to morph, to become malleable and pliant, she turns from the man that Sakuna knows into the female that Chalothon expects.

“It may be best that you do not come to the human world for a time, Wansarut, I fear it may have addled your mind,” Wanwisa takes her hand and guides her towards the water.

“My mind is quite intact,” She volleys back. However, her heart, normally impenetrable to the plight of the master of the Garuda, sending him back with harsh words and a closed door, is unlocked and open.

Her sister chuckles, “If you speak it, it must be so, sister. Come.”

Wansarut calculates it in her head, the next time she will be able to be in the human world would be the 15th day of the 11th lunar month.

#way writes #the sign the series #fic #it's queue

[singulxarity]

Jegulus microfic - Day 10 - Sugar

Word count : 498

@jegulus-microfic

On their 8th date, James convinced Regulus to watch a muggle movie. They were in the room of requirement, settled on a couch with a blanket upon them both. A muggle television set was before them and a black and white film was playing.

James' arm is on Regulus' shoulders and Regulus, albeit a little stiff, is curled against James' chest.

The room is silent except for James' breath coming at regular intervals and the sound of the movie.

"Aren't you going to walk me home?"

"You would like that, wouldn't you sugar?"

And Regulus cant help it. He has put up a facade and he cannot believe that it is a muggle movie that is going to break it down.

He snorts.

Regulus Black, second son of the noble house of Black snorts, and it isn't long before he's curled over, forehead against his knees, one hand on his stomach, the other on his mouth, preserving the slightest shred of dignity he has left.

Regulus Black laughs hysterically.

And he simply cannot stop.

The image of the man quirking an eyebrow, the self assured smirk on his face, and the sound of his voice keeps entering Regulus' mind, making him giggle uncontrollably.

Unable to support himself, he rests his head on James' lap, body still shaking. James is laughing too, not so much out of amusement, but out of endearment; wonderstruck, as the younger boy's face turns increasingly red.

Long after, movie forgotten, Regulus' head remains on James' lap. The two boys look at each other, James' hands caressing his curls.

"I like it when you laugh"

"Oh?"

"Hmm. One day, I swear on my life Regulus, I'm going to make you laugh like that. I dont care how long it takes."

"Well, I wont encourage it. My stomach still hurts."

The two boys speak barely above a whisper. Regulus feels something in his chest. It reminds him of sunshine on skin, bare feet on grass and hands on a warm body.

He reaches up for James' hand in his hair and presses a quick kiss onto the bone that connects the thumb to the palm.

A first kiss if you will.

And James. Delightful, endearing James smiles as if he has been given the world to take.

The older boy, as if in return, leans down and presses a kiss onto Regulus' forehead, on a small spot that isnt covered in curls.

♡

James does not know this, but he will be the reason Regulus laughs. When he returns to the dorm and sees Pandora, Evan, Barty and Dorcas waiting to hear every detail, Regulus will laugh, giggle and squeal, recounting each moment of the night.

Laughter is the sun that seeps through the canopy. It is the starlight that still glimmers in the thickest fog. It a feather light kiss that scorches you even though years have passed.

And it follows the two boys wherever they go. In the kitchens, on the couch and especially in each others arms.

AN - would you look at that? I'm alive once more. Let me know what you think, asks, comment, reblogs and likes are wholeheartedly appreciated and always make me smile. Sending you a hug♡

#jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #jegulus #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #starchaser fic #james potter #regulus black #the marauders #the marauders fandom #marauders

[hazzyking]

Take two. I'm getting writers block so I wanna try something fresh. Enjoy a Mihwak x Reader

Either anime or LA is perfect ((like my Buggy~)) but this fic is based off LA Mihwak

If you like this and want a smutty part 2 let me know, and I promise. I will write a part 2.

Just a Guy in a Bar

The sun sunk below the horizon giving the Barite a nice orange glow and that same firey glow to the water. You walked in and took your seat at the bar that wrapped around the mouth of the fish ship. The Barite was a perfect venue to you, a nice bar with plenty of space for dancing and a live band, and it was neutral ground for you and your crew to wind down after a long seven months on the grand line.

Once the sun had been replaced by the moon, the Barite was lit with candle light inside and outside, giving the ship a golden aura to shine off the navy blue water. You sat at the bar twirling your drink in your hand, you felt a slight tickle on your cheek of a feather, confused you turned and realized the back of someone's hat was completely invading your space "uh- scuse me" you said tapping the strangers thick leather jacket. The stranger turned around, revealing his piercing yellow eyes that were focused like a hawk - or, like a really wine-drunk hawk from the looks of it. "Mihwak?" You said surprised."What are you doing here?"

"A warlord isn't allowed to go out for a drink?" He said sitting next to you. "I should be asking you, what are you doing here" Mihwak chuckled holding a wine glass in his hand as he leaned against the bar.

"Okay your clearly drunk and super out of character right now" you chuckled putting your hand up as if to catch him if he toppled over.

"I am not drunk" Mihwak said like a white girl who had too many tequila shots.

"Alright" you said in defeat.

"(Y/N) right? How is your life of pillaging and plundering?" Mihwak said smirking darkly.

"You gave up that life remember Mihwak" you chuckled looking the warlord up and down. "You payed a visit to Shanks didn't you?" You smirked and then realized the warlord become defensive.

"A child has a 30 million bounty" Mihwak said "a child Shanks knows well"

"Yeah. I know that child" you chuckled. "Why are you here getting Wine-Drunk, because Luffy is worth a whopping 30 mil?" You asked curiously.

"Were getting old" Mihwak admitted, which caused your face to soften. "It's only a matter of time till the Luffy's and the Zoro's of the world become better than us old dogs and faze us out. Some day everyone will be a warlord and everyone will be an emperor and none of these silly titles will matter" Mihwak simply put- slurring his words a little. This was a surprise considering he was normally, such a well spoken man.

"I don't think warlords will matter in the future Mihwak- the world government-"

"I know, is the enemy. Shanks told me all about how I betrayed the pirates by giving up my bounty to serve a greater purpose" Mihwak said almost falling into you, you put your hand out to catch him, touching his fair, hot skin.

"Mihwak, let's go somewhere more quite, maybe you could sober up a bit" you chuckled taking his arm and leading him to the back dock of the Barite. The area was quiet but you could still hear the band faintly. You looked over at the water, how the moon made the navy blue ocean twinkle, it was almost magic to you. The magic was slowly interrupted when Mihwak attempted a graceful seat next to you which ended up with him stumbling and spilling wine on himself.

"Fuck" he muttered. You laughed, realizing you've never herd him swear before. "What's so funny Dove?" He said in his proper voice again.

"Shockingly- you" you giggled. "A great and powerful warlord is sitting next to me, soaked in wine... and wine drunk like a middle aged house wife" you laughed looking at his serious face which slowly erupted into laughter as well, you watched as his eyes crinkled and his yellow orbs were just barley visible his laugh was beautiful, and it almost took your breath away.

"I told you- I'm getting old" Mihwak sighed. "Sometimes I wish I was just- some guy in a bar. And not- rewnoned swords man" he sighed looking out at the ocean, your features softened as you leaned back to be on the same level as him, your hand was placed on his leather jacket. Your fingers tapping on his chest.

"Your not old." You simply said. "Your still the same old Charming Mihwak. The only difference is- your not trying to overthrow the government" you giggled watching his lips curl up into a beautiful smile.

"You think I'm charming?" He said his eyes darting between your eyes and lips as he began to lean forward a bit.

"Mihwak-" you put your hand up to his lips "as much as I really want to kiss you right now- I can't take advantage of you" you said, regretting the fact that deep down you cared for the swordsman.

"I'm not drunk" Mihwak said smiling. "It was an act" he chuckled looking at you. You looked at him too stunned for words. "I just wanted to get close to you" Mihwak admitted. You felt heat creep up your neck and onto your face, you knew you were bright red by now. "(Y/N)? You really wanna kiss me?" Mihwak said with a smile.

"Well, when I thought you were drunk and you weren't gonna remember what I said. Uh yeah" you laughed awkwardly.

"Hey- I'm just a guy in a bar" Mihwak said as he gently brushed your hair back with his fingers and cupped your face, his gentle touches sent shivers down your spine as he pulled you into a delicate, passionate kiss.

#dracule mihawk #one piece #one piece live action #mihwak x reader #fluff #one piece x reader

[drunkenlionwrites]

I want your take on uncanny vash with some relationship/affection headcanons too please!

Damn, that's a popular request! 💖

Okay, so I’m not on twitter, so I totally missed the beginning of this trend, but I’ve seen some snippets here on tumblr and I absolutely love this thing as a total monster lover at heart. Though interpretations vary from something more Lovecraftian to even something from 5 nights at Freddy’s or your standard local creepypasta. My take is more or less canon-compliant, cause Trimax already gave us soooo much food that we can explore deeper. What can be ever uncannier than a walking talking man-made creature, who’s also a sentient matter generator as well as extremely empathetic being with heightened senses who also possesses telepathic abilities to some degree.

There’s always been something slightly…off with Vash. Something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. Something about his body proportions. His lanky limbs and his overly controlled movements. The way his body could go from rigid and collected when you’ve been in danger to mellow and seemingly boneless when he’s been partying with townsfolk.

The way his teeth have been slightly sharper than an average human being. The way his skin was seemingly poreless and smooth, always milky-white no matter how much time he’s spent under the scorching suns.

A few times you for sure saw his eyes glowing in the dark. You did, right? Just the way the cat’s eyes would look when reflecting light.

His eating habits, when you’ve noticed them, also left you dumbfounded. You could swear that he could go on days and days without eating a crumb, later defensively claiming he ate when you hadn’t seen or that you’ve just forgotten and anyway why is it such a big deal to you? When you hit the town, he immediately was lost in diners, or saloons, or cafes eating humongous portions of food that you were sure would make you puke all your guts out, but made Vash only smile at you contentedly.

The smell of him, that was always of hotel’s cheep soap, or dust and sand, gunpowder, and cold night breeze, but never of sweat or any kind of natural body odor you can imagine a man clad in leather clothes should smell after a few days of travel without bathing.

 The texture of his hair, coarse and springy and thick, and always so so clean, but smoother and silkier where his black strands began. ‘Good genetics’ he claimed.

You’ve also never expected him to have such deep and profound displays of emotions: rage, grief, hurt. They always felt so raw and palpable in the air. It seemed like it was too hard and thick to breathe, making you unable to move and think clearly. When you carefully asked Wolfwood about it later he claimed he felt the same as you.

His pained screams were nothing but animalistic, otherworldly too…you couldn’t forget the sound even if you could. It was something between a malfunctioning screeching machine or the wail of a distressed animal.

When you gained the knowledge about him being an independent plant, receiving awkward profound apologies from Vash for lying to you and dismissing your concerns to him, it all made so much more sense and made you feel strangely more at ease with all his oddities, your brain still unconsciously catching things that were off with Vash.

Nothing you’ve seen before could compare to the moment you saw him communicating with his sisters, all kinds of feathers growing out of his body, while he’s been leaning his forehead to the glass.

The way some otherworldly flesh parts have been manifesting out of him at times have been chillingly terrifying and incomprehensible for you. Seeing the way he demolished the moon with his power didn’t register with you for some time until Wolfwood repeated it enough times for you to make sense of it.

Relationship/affection uncanny valley stuff:

It has been pretty normal with the perfectly sweet and affectionate Vash, except the slight buzzing sound that reminded you of the sound of refrigerator emitting from him during sleep or when he’s been completely relaxed. You’ve been surprised once again but decided to not bring it up to Vash to not make him feel self-conscious and uneasy again.

Once after an especially stressful day you’ve awakened being encaged in some sort of a cage surrounding you and connecting back to Vash, fleshy, soft to the touch but weirdly sturdy, covered in all sorts of feathers and small wings and weird small body parts, resembling humans. You almost screamed, but Vash woke up first from your rustling the sheets and moving next to him. With a surprised yelp from him, the fleshy structure started quickly decomposing and falling off you, disintegrating before hitting the bed. Well, that’s some protective plant boyfriend for you.

#vash x reader #trigun x reader #vash x you #trigun x you #vash headcanons #trigun headcanons #uncanny vash #trimax vash

[look-at-the-soul]

The one

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

A/N congratulations @toms-cherry-trees on 1.5K followers! 👏🏻✨🎉🥳🙌🏻 you deserve that and many many more!! So I wrote this little piece for you, I hope you enjoy it, the idea came to my mind as the perfect match for your autumn theme when I saw this moodboard @acewritesfics created (I know you did it for Cillian + cottage Ace, but since I have that idea very similar in my The Photoshoot series, I took it as inspiration for a modern Tommy ☺️)

Patting around the bed to find the solid body she loved the most, but all Y/N could find was emptiness.

She couldn’t love this place more, the birds were chirping outside, the fresh air was too good to be true, no cellphone signal… if only she could find Tommy.

“Good morning beautiful.” He praised from the bedroom door, stepping in with a tray full of coffee, fruit and toast.

“I woke up and you weren’t here.” She pouted covering her upper body with the sheets.

“But I am now.” He replied placing the tray over her legs, taking one long look at her disheveled hair, tangled from all the times he ran his fingers through it the previous night. Her naked form covered only by the ivory sheets.

This was the closest to a vacation she could afford right now, not because money was a problem, but because Tommy had been extremely busy with his business and she knew asking for a five day or a week holiday would drive him mad, so a weekend at a small cottage was a luxury she couldn’t miss.

Everything had been perfect since they arrived; the lovely weather, the scent of nature, the calmness vs the caos in the city. She loved specially the dead leaves crunching beneath her feet as they took a long walk the previous day.

“It was a good idea to bring that small coffee machine.” Tommy chuckled realizing how little things they had there, no tv, no wifi, there was a small old fashioned fireplace that luckily still worked and he lit it as it started to get chilly last night.

“Told you it was a good investment.”

“I thought we’d have one… guess I was wrong.”

“Yeah same reason why you brought your iPad too.”

Tommy stole a strawberry from the bowl. “Uhu, I really can’t believe there’s no access to technology around.”

“Don’t complain, we’ve hot water and power light.”

Tommy’s eyes sparkled suddenly. “And the best part is… I‘ve you all to myself.”

Y/N’s body tingled just by his voice and the way he was looking at her.

Closing her legs instinctively, she observed her boyfriend place the tray on the dresser.

“You think that’s going to stop me?” He arched an eyebrow cockily at the same time he took one of her legs to drop a kiss on her ankle, starting a trail of feather-like kisses all over her skin, making Y/N discover the soft spot behind her knee that she didn’t know it existed and how much it was turning her on.

She sighed content letting Tommy throw the covers aside.

****

It was a lovely Autumn day, her favorite season, the colors, the trees losing their leaves, the smell, she could swear the atmosphere was different.

Perhaps what really made a difference was watching Tommy so calm with a high energy and an endless smile on his face. Turning around, she found the last rays of sunshine kissing his skin, every freckle and the reflection in the lake in front of them making his blue eyes sparkle even more.

He wasn’t wearing his signature immaculate three piece suit, but a white t-shirt covered by a denim jacket and black jeans, he looked like a totally different person, looking at him made her heart skip a beat, just like the first time.

“Whot?” He frowned.

“You look different.” Y/N pointed out. “Happier.”

“Well I’ve everything I want right now, that surely is a motive.” Tommy admitted kissing her hair.

His surprise grew even more when he saw Y/N pulling out a blanket from the basket she demanded to bring to their stroll.

“Don’t stand there watching, help me!” She shot him a look, placing her side on the grass.

“So bossy.” Tommy chuckled, relaxing his body finally over the blanket, pulling her towards him moments later.

He tried to suppress a chuckle when he saw her placing a bottle of wine and two glasses between them, she was always extra when packing.

“Oh, do I hear someone complaining?” She laughed.

In silence, his mind wandered to think how grateful he really was for Ada insisting over and over for him to try out one of those ridiculous dating apps, after being extremely picky about the prospects showing up in his cellphone, he stopped when he found Y/N’s profile.

Matching her right away, the conversation was flowing naturally, they simply clicked and agreed to meet the following week.

She wasn’t just eye catching physically, her interests caught his attention, she was a lawyer and worked at her own firm, had a good taste in music and books, she loved to fight for human rights. And when they first met in person, he knew she wasn’t just good looking, she had a brain, an interesting conversation and she could keep up with his wicked sense of humor surprisingly well. He was surprised how the conversation never seemed to die with Y/N.

The romance took off immediately, date after date, they discovered new things about the other one, Tommy particularly loved the moment she arrived at her apartment, kicking her high heels while he poured some wine as she stretched her legs on the couch. By now he had lost count of how many skirts and dresses she owned, but he knew she wore a different outfit to every trial.

Now they were both wearing casual outfits, comfortable shoes and she added a light scarf around her neck, both completely out of their elements.

Tommy leaned on his back enjoying not having everyone bothering every three minutes, the silence, peace, not feeling anxious about his next meeting or the papers piling up to sign on his desk, the atmosphere calm, he even took several minutes admiring the sighting… not every day he got to have all of that.

“Did you fall asleep?” Y/N whispered nudging her nose against his cheek.

“No, I’m just relaxing as you said I should.” He confessed opening one eye to look at her.

The autumn breeze made a chill run up and down her back, instinctively Tommy’s hand started caressing over the jumper as if he had been able to feel it. He was lying down on his back. This was the prettiest sunset she had ever seen, the lake catching the reflection of the sky, copying the oranges tones, as well as the incredible trees before her eyes, it looked like it was taken out of professional photograph.

Closing the novel she had been reading, Y/N turned around and rested an arm and head on his torso, adapting to the calm rhythm of his breathing. Taking in the scar on his chin, she wondered how he got it.

“I can feel you staring.” He stated with his eyes closed, hidden under his Ray Bans.

“Just admiring the view,” she admitted, “and the calmness.”

A smile started forming on his lips, but he didn’t move from his position, loving the way her body felt against his.

“I can’t remember the last time I took a day off.”

Y/N chuckled switching her position to lay down next to him. “That’s exactly why I suggested it. You needed to relax.”

“I was relaxed.” He defended quickly.

“Ugh you can be so stubborn sometimes, you were under so much stress, it wasn’t fun to be around.”

In mere seconds, Tommy pinned Y/N under his body.

She squealed and tried to kick her legs while he was holding his weight on his arms to not crush her down.

“Oh let me show ya how much fun I can be.” He adviced with a smirk, grinding against her sweet body, changing completely the atmosphere.

“This is dangerous… and wild.”

Apart from the cottage and the very few villages at the other side of the lake, they were practically on their own.

“No one is around.” He answered playfully looking from left to right, attacking Y/N’s neck afterwards.

A wave of electricity ran through every nerve in her body. Deep down she knew this was a side of him that not all the people got to see, and it wasn’t really so frequent.

“But… you’ll have to be on top darling, I’m not getting any younger.” Tommy joked resuming his previous position.

“I don’t ever want to go back to the city.” Y/N murmured as they snuggled, loving their surroundings close to the cottage. “Look at you. Who would’ve thought you would end up enjoying this?”

“I’m a man full of surprises, love.”

His hand sneaked around her waist, bringing her body above his.

Y/N giggled, but let him pull her closer, Tommy loved that look on her as the sun about to go down shone through her.

“Oh Mr. Surprises I think we should rent this Airbnb more often.” She absolutely fell in love with the cottage and everything around it. It was small, cozy and had everything they needed.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Speaking of Airbnb…” he took in her beauty for an instant, “when we go back to the city, I’m planing to make an offer for the place.”

Y/N looked at him with shock written all over her face.

“What? Why?”

“Because I love how happy you look.”

Her smile grew and the space in her face wasn’t enough to hold it. “Tommy!”

He felt her smile against his lips as they kissed, but soon she moved away from his body to wrap a cardigan around her shoulders.

“And I also think it’s time you meet my son, Charlie… and the rest of my family.”

Before Y/N could answer something, Tommy continued. “I know we said we’d take it slow, but we’ve been dating for a while and you already know I’m deadly serious about this, why waste time?” He shuddered. “My sister specially has been very adamant to meet you.”

“Woah, you really want to make this official?”

Tommy nodded.

“I couldn’t feel more sure about us, since the moment I saw you walking into the restaurant that first time I thought shit, this is it, this is the one for me.”

“I’m so glad you sent that first message, I had decided earlier I’d give up looking and close the app.” Y/N ran her hands up and down his chest.

His knuckles caressing her cheek.

“Tell me about Charlie.” She asked. Eyelids half closed from his delicate touch.

And now it was his turn to smile because he absolutely knew she was the one.

***

A/N one of my friends just met her bf through a dating app and I’ve never seen her happier, so I got the inspiration from there! Kat I hope you never see this 😂🤣

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @ange-thoughts @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @thenattitude @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @allie131313 @imichelle-l-rigby @winchestergirl22 @already-broken144 @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @heidimoreton @peakyscillian @shaddixlife @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @dandelionprints @thomashelbyswife

#That’s what Cill said #tommy Shelby #modern tommy shelby imagine #modern Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fanfiction #modern peaky blinders #cillian murphy x tommy shelby

[or0ch1maru]

How about a y/n who likes collecting things? Pretty rocks, feathers, or buttons? (or even stuffed animals?) Would the Akatsuki find this cute? Or maybe a waste of time?

This my loves is what I like to call crow brain. See something pretty, you pocket it 🥺

I swear you must live in my walls or something because this^ this right here is me. My dresser is covered in rocks, acorns, and other cute things I’ve collected over the years hehe. (im also a huge stuffy collector🥺)

•

•the first time they notice you pick up and pocket a cool looking rock, you received a few curious glances

• “it was pretty” you reply with a shrug before getting back to the business at hand

•another time, they caught you picking up something off the ground, when asked what it was, you showed the red, heart shaped button off proudly, a smile that reached your eyes plastered across your face

•then, there was the time you and the rest of the Akatsuki ventured into the Hidden Rain to meet with your leader and his right hand woman

•a few wanted to stop by a small convenience store for a drink after the tedious travel so while you waited for them to finish, you did a little shopping of your own, but not for food, or a drink

•as you stood outside the small and now crowded shop, your eyes fell on an antique store across the way

•while your team was distracted, you bolted across the wet road, arm held over your head to shield you from the never ending rain, eyes falling on a rather worn, and raggedy looking teddy bear. One that was well loved by its past owner, that is now in need of a new one

•you opted out of needing a bag for your new friend and walked out with the bear tucked under your arm, using your cloak to shield him from the weather

•by now, your comrades have gotten used to this, and don’t really bat an eye when they see you pick up or buy something completely random

•so when you met back up with the team, nobody even as much raised an eyebrow at the item you’re holding against your side

•one evening, you were perched on your bed, painting your nails your designated dark purple color when a knock came through

• “come in” you replied cheerfully as you brushed a streak across your big toe, tip of your tongue poking out in concentration

• “here” you lift your head when you hear Deidara’s voice. Your eyes drift to his outstretched palm, a shiny blue colored stone sitting near the mouth that’s in the middle of his palm

•you nearly flew into his arms in excitement, a wide smile as you take in his gesture of kindness

• “I love it, thanks dei” you replied happily, taking the stone from him and walking towards the shelves that sit against the wall to the left of you

•he lets out a satisfied ‘hmph’ as he watches you place the rock towards the front of a shelf, sitting beside all the other things you’ve collected or have been gifted to by fellow members

•like the soft, yet elegant pale green and white feather Konan brought to you a month ago

•or a handful of Pilea peperomiodes that sit in a pot that Tobi hand picked for you somewhere outside only yesterday

•or the single 5 leaf clover that Kisame and Itachi stumbled across on a mission last week

•little do you know, anytime your comrades leave for a mission, one of the first things they do when they leave, is look for something you might like, your habit rubbing off on them

•even if it’s as little as a cool looking rock or

•a cute stuffed animal in a store they happened to visit while away

#akatsuki #akatsuki members #orochimaru #orochimaru stories #konan headcanons #zetsu x reader #kakuzu headcanons #orochimaru story #sasori akatsuki #hidan headcanon #pain akatsuki #tobi headcanon #obito headcanons #deidara x reader #kisame headcanons #itachi headcanons

[lou-struck]

Operation: Stay Away Cupid Pt. 4

Obey Me! Datatables (minus Luke x Mc!)

Featuring: Simeon, Diavolo, and Barbatos

Warnings: Lap Sitting, Shoulder Rubs, Asmo using his charm (not on reader),

~ As your Valentine's Day starts to wind down you seem to be coming up with more questions than answers as you observe everyone's odd behavior.

MASTERLIST HERE

Asmodeus’s jaw is clenched as he walks through the empty hallways of RAD. His pact mark with Solomon burns brighter beneath his skin as he gets closer and closer to where the troublesome Sorcerer is hiding. 

“Ohhhh Solomon, I know you’re in hereeee.” His singsong voice echoes off of the stone floors with an alluring quality. “Come out and have a chat with me.”

He pauses and waits for the enchantment in his voice to draw the Sorcerer out. 

One way or another, Asmodeus will be getting an answer. 

Impatiently, the Avatar of Lust crosses his arms and lets out an annoyed huff. “Solomon, you better come out here right now, or I swear I’ll send my Fanclub after you, and then you’ll be sorry.” 

The threat, paired with his charmed words, is enough to have the white-haired Sorcerer poke out from behind a bookshelf; his gait has an unsteady dreaminess to it, and his fair skin is kissed by a faint blush. A tell-tale sign that Asmodeus’ power has reached him. 

If he wasn’t so frustrated with the Sorcerer, he would’ve been proud of his handiwork. After all, he hadn’t been able to charm Solomon in centuries. 

His pink lips turn upwards in a satisfied smile as he watches Solomon rub his eyes to shake away the enchantment’s effects. The Sorcerer smirks, his eyes no longer dancing with the tendrils of Asmodeus’s charm as he speaks. “Oh, Asmodeus, how was your romantic boat ride with Mc?”

“Oh, don’t act all innocent with me.” Asmo seethes, balling up his fists childishly at Solomon’s nonchalant antics. 

He cocks his head to the side. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You lied about the cupid thing and tried to ruin my date with Mc.” The demon pouts, jutting out his perfectly glossed lips.

“Me? Lie?” he says innocently, “What gave you that Idea?”

“I think I know your magic a bit better than everyone else.” he coos almost murderously, “That little feather you sent my way ruined my special kiss with them earlier.”

“I guess you caught me. It was fun while it lasted.” Solomon smiles and settles onto one of the benches, and Asmo does the same. “Tell me, is everyone aware of my little ruse?”

Asmo’s perfectly manicured finger taps his cheek in thought, “I think all my brothers are aware of the situation now.”

“I see, and if Lucifer knows, he would’ve told Lord Diavolo.” the human mutters. The twisting feeling in his gut was the first sign that maybe tricking some of the most powerful beings in the three realms wasn’t the best idea.

“Don’t forget Barbatos.” Asmo winks, sending a deep shiver down the Sorcerer’s spine. “You know how scary he can get when he’s angry. Especially when our sweet Mc is involved.”

Solomon’s mind drifts to you, the sweet human who has endured a handful of crazy dates today with all seven avatars of sin. 

“Asmodeus, may I ask you something?” he asks, a heaviness in his heart as he realizes that he forgot something extremely important when pulling off his little prank. 

“What is it?”

“I-I didn’t ruin Mc’s Valentine’s Day, have I?” He asks the question softly, with a weakness that reminds the Avatar of Lust that his Master is still human. 

The demon smiles softly, thinking back to your adorable little smiles on the boat. And the giggles he heard down the hallway when you and Beel were making your chocolate-covered strawberries. “No, they seem to be enjoying themselves today. But I’m sure that if we were to have actually had our little kiss, it would’ve been even better.”

He hasn’t ruined your day. 

Solomon’s heart can beat again. 

“Butttt, don’t think you are off the hook yet, Solomon.” Asmo smiles, grabbing the human’s hand and pulling him towards the door, his superior strength proving to be too much for the human. “Mc has a few more dates today. But now, so do you.”

Barbatos ~

Your hair is ruffled from your nap date with Belphie, but you hardly have time to fix it now. If you did, you would be late for your date with Barbatos. Your heart thrums in your chest as you get closer and closer to the place gardens, your designated meeting place with the Butler. 

The enchanted stone pathway lights up under your shoes, guiding you to a section of the gardens you have never been to before. 

The gentle sound of swaying willow branches dance in your ears as you are led through a curtain of some soft floral vines. An unexpected wind brushes your shoulders as you reach the other side and see the Butler waiting for you.

Although he doesn’t see you right away, you can’t help but notice the irritated way Barbatos curses under his breath as he scrolls through his DDD. A deep shiver runs along your spine when you come to the realization that he looks pissed.

“H-hey Barbatos,” can you say nervously, hoping that he’s not upset at you for running a bit behind schedule. But the look of genuine happiness that appears on his face when he notices you easily frees the worry from the forefront of your mind. 

“Oh, there you are, Mc,” the Butler is followed by an enchanted lantern that illuminates his elegant features with an ironically angelic glow. “I was worried you had lost your way out here, but I am glad this wasn’t the case.”

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long for me. I had a bit of a delay in getting here. “You admit bashfully. 

He places a comforting hand on the small of your back as he walks you past the entrance to the stables, much to your confusion. “don’t worry about it, I had some loose ends to tie up so it works out perfectly. “

“Is something the matter? I saw you on your DDD looking a bit frustrated,” you murmur, feeling relieved that you haven’t completely ruined his plans for the two of you.

“Nothing I can’t handle. Lucifer had just informed me about a tricky little rat roaming around the Devildom,” he says bed early. And it may just be a gut instinct of yours, but you have a feeling that he’s not talking about an actual rat. 

Does it have something to do with why everyone has been acting so odd lately?

Is there some kind of Devildom-wide hatred of the Cupid mascot?

“My dear?” he says, pulling you from your thoughts. “Although it warms my heart to see you looking so concerned on my behalf, I assure you, everything is under control. There’s no need to worry at all.”

 There is so much care in his emerald gaze it makes your knees feel like jelly beneath you. You stumble forward into Barbato’s arms, and as expected, he catches you as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the three realms. “Careful now, our date has just begun. It would be a shame for a sprained ankle to come along and ruin our time together.”

“Sorry,” you grin, enjoying the warmth of his touch. “I think I got a bit too excited.”

“Nothing to apologize for, but I have to ask. Dear, will you be warm enough?” 

“I’ll be fine. It’s not too cold out here.” you lie. Obviously he sees right through it and gently removes his uniform jacket.

“Here, this will keep you warm until we are inside. I won’t take long, I promise,” he murmurs tenderly, wrapping the garment around your shoulders. You breathe in the gentle scent of linen and rose petals gratefully as he leads you down a pathway that definitely wasn’t there moments ago.

“Inside?” You look around and only see the place’s lush greenery. “Are we going back to the palace?”

“Not quite, but I think you will enjoy this just as much.” he beams. And with a wave of his hand, two tall hedges part for you, revealing the cutest little structure behind them. A faint smoke wisps out from its chimney, and light pours out from the blown glass windows, illuminating the dark ground with rainbow prisms of light.

“What is this place?” you ask in a hushed voice.

“A place for the two of us.” he smiles, “We are the only two beings in the Devildom who are able to make it through the barrier, aside from the young master, of course.”

A grin of childlike enthusiasm spreads across your face at his words. “You got me a secret clubhouse for Valentine’s Day?”

“It appears I have.” he smiles before looking a bit self-conscious. “Is this gift to your liking?”

“Of course it is,” you answer excitedly, wrapping your arms around his lean frame. “Thank you for sharing this special place with me.”

“Anytime.” he hums, leaning into your embrace. “I hope the two of us can spend many hours hidden away behind these walls.”

“I do too,” you smile, just realizing that you haven’t given him his gift yet. “I know it’s not an enchanted clubhouse, but I got you something too.”

You hold out the perfectly wrapped parcel for him to take. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be wonderful,” he says eagerly. 

Even in his excitement, he still manages to unwrap the gift without ripping any of the actual paper. And when he opens the box of intricate-looking tea bombs, you swear you saw his eyes turn glassy. 

“These look amazing, what are they?” he asks, intrigued. “Some kind of tea?”

You got him something that he has never seen before. If you could pop yourself on the back without embarrassing yourself, you would. “they’re called tea bombs. All you have to do is drop one in a teapot and add hot water. They’re getting pretty popular in the human realm, so I thought you may appreciate trying something new.”

He admires the gift once more before holding out of hand or two. “thank you for such a thoughtful and considerate gift. If it’s all right with you, shall we head inside our new clubhouse so we can prepare one together?”

You nod excitedly and take his hand. “I’d be delighted.”

“Wonderful, like this little cottage, this is something I only wish to share with you.”

Simeon~

Why is it that everyone else seems to know the coolest places in the Devildom?

This question crosses your mind as you sit across from Simeon at a Greenhouse cafe, the little tea table in front of you decorated with candied flowers just waiting to be snacked on. Somehow, the warm, bright light that streams in through the enchanted glass above you looks and feels just like the sunlight you have missed so dearly.

“This place is amazing.” you say earnestly, “How did you find it?”

He blushes and somehow manages to look even more perfect than he had just a few moments ago, “I got lost one day trying to follow the directions on my DDD and ended up here. Some may call it an accident, but now, with you here across from me, I know in my heart it was fate.”

His praise warms your heart like sunlight. The angel’s sincerity and poetic way with words has you falling for him more and more every day. 

But… 

Despite his sweet words and love in his eyes, you can tell that he looks a bit nervous. His posture looks painfully rigid, and he looks around the empty cafe as if he is expecting some kind of ambush. 

Furthermore, you couldn’t help but notice how Simeon has been using every opportunity he can to touch you, The fuzzy tingling on your skin, a tell-tale sign of his angelic rejuvenating power coursing through you. Almost as if he is protecting you from something. 

Although you do not mind his constant attention and polite little touches, it troubles you to see how paranoid he is acting. 

Just like how Mammon and the others were acting at the beginning of the day. 

You’re not an idiot. And after your date with Barbatos you felt like whatever situation that was occurring behind your back had resolved itself.

Whatever was going on with them, it seemed that no one thought to tell the angel that everything was okay.

“Um, Mc, may I please hold your hand?”

“Of course, you can,” you reply, holding one of your hands out for him to take. As he does, you give him a little squeeze and send him the most reassuring look you can muster. Sure, you could try to interrogate him. But forcing him to tell you the truth doesn’t sit right with you. 

“I don’t know what’s troubling you, but I promise everything will be fine,” you say, not wanting to push him anymore on the subject. You decide now would be the best time to give him his Valentine’s Day gift. 

You reach into your bag and pull out his little gift bag. Your movements are slow, so the sound of liquid crashing against glass doesn’t give away the surprise until he opens it. 

“Is this for me?” he asks, taking the bag’s strings and setting it before him. You nod and watch as he gently removes the tissue paper and pulls out the enchanted cologne bottle you got him. The liquid inside is a potion called bottled nostalgia. It is scentless until the user recalls a fond memory or smell and sprays it on themselves. It took you weeks to find the one vendor in the devildom who makes it, but you finally managed to track her down with the help of Simeon’s number one fan, Leviathan.

The angel is silent as he reads the information card, understanding the importance of the bottle in front of him. “Mc, you must’ve put in so much effort in choosing this gift for me. Thank you. I know every time I use this, I will think of you and smile.”

“I-it was nothing,” you say, successfully flustered. 

There is a knowing look in his gaze as he gives you a soft smile. “You truly are amazing, Mc. I apologize for not giving you my full attention earlier. It’s not much, but I, too, prepared a gift for you.”

He slides a beautifully sealed envelope in front of you. Your name is penned elegantly in liquid gold on the front. Not wishing to destroy such a beautiful stamp, you fiddle with the wax seal tentatively until it gives way. 

Simeon is an amazing author, and as you pull out the letter, you realize that he had written you a letter in the same golden ink as on the front. Its beauty brings you to tears, and as you read the lines aloud, the greenhouse fills with a warm, bright light.

You shield your eyes from the source and look at him with all the love in the world. As the magic slowly fades back into the ink.

“My gift to you is the sun. You are the light of my life. It only makes sense that I can gift you something worthy of the title.”

Diavolo~ 

As you walk up the grand marble staircase of the palace, you begin to regret the simple little cardboard box in your hands decorated with glittery hearts and stickers. 

The Devildom Price has long been fascinated with human traditions, so you thought it would be fun to give him a box of cheesy Valentine's Day cards, the same ones your class would pass around this day when you were in primary school.

You made sure to fill it with lots of different human-world candies, stickers, temporary tattoos, and cute yet corny pickup lines written from your own hand. 

‘It’s not too late.’ the voice of doubt whispers into your mind. ‘You can turn back now and find something worthy of the prince.’

Your legs are shaking, and your self-consciousness gets the better of you, but just as you are about to turn and walk away from the large doors of his private quarters, the doors part, and you meet the kind, citron gaze of the Prince of Hell. 

“Mc, I’m so glad you made it.” his joyful voice declares as he looks over you. “Come in. I bet you’ve had quite the exhausting day so far.”

You nod shyly and step inside. You try to tuck the cardboard gift box you decorated behind your back, but he notices this immediately. 

“What’s that you’re holding? He asks, sitting next to you on his crushed velvet sofa. For such an intimidating Demon, his presence has such a calming effect on your nerves. 

“I-it's for you,” you murmur, holding the box out to him with both hands. “I thought you would appreciate getting a Valentine’s Day mailbox of your own today. But If you don’t like it, I ca-”

“You made this just for me?” he asks, sounding touched as he carefully removes the box from your hands as if it was about to shatter with the lightest touch. “I’ve never received a gift so thoughtfully homemade before. It’s refreshing.”

“So you like it?” you say, hope evident in your tone as he opens the box and starts to look at the little Valentine's cards you made for him.

“I love it. This is wonderful.” he laughs, peeling a lip print sticker off one of the cards and placing it on his cheek. It looks so wonderfully odd on his fine jawline that you can’t help but laugh along with him. 

“I wish I would’ve made one for you as well,” he admits. “Perhaps we should do this for everyone next year.”

“That would be so fun.” you smile, feeling a bit nostalgic at the idea of sending cheesy valentines to all your favorite guys.

“I got you a gift as well,” he smiles, removing a long black velvet jewelry case from the table in front of you. You had been so worried about your gift, you failed to notice it earlier. He opens the box and reveals a surprisingly simple pendant with a delicate silver chain and a small gemstone the color of his eyes. “I wanted you to have something you can wear every day.”

“It’s beautiful.” you smile, admiring the simple yet elegant jewelry.

“Would you like me to put it on you?” he asks hesitantly. You nod and his warm smile returns to light up the room. “Please come closer then.”

You climb up onto his lap as he secures the delicate little clasp around your neck. “This is perfect, getting to keep you close like this,” he murmurs into your ear as you relax. 

“This is nice.” you hum happily. 

“Have you had an interesting day so far?” he asks, feeling the tenseness in your shoulders. 

“That’s one word for it, you sigh, feeling at home against his broad frame.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

As the Prince himself gives you a shoulder massage, you spill the details of your long yet very romantic day. You also share with him the unexplained feathers, floating hearts, and shadows that freaked the others out so much on your dates.

At the end of your story, he chuckles heartily, and you turn to meet his gaze, seeing the look of guilt and amusement on his handsome features.

“You know why everyone’s been acting weird, don’t you?” you ask, knowing in your heart that you are finally getting some answers.

He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I do, but I think it would be best if you were to hear the truth from everyone.”

You turn your head to the side and feel rather confused by his wording. 

“Everyone?”

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network, @chaoticotaku, @nicksworld0715 , @ikevampharem, @ppichippi , @rabba-vee, @alexisjustheree, @scienceisfornerds, @rustybucketofghosts, @ihatecorns, @ignorxntf00l, @sleeppykitten

#obey me! #obey me nightbringer #x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo #barbatos #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me simeon #simeon x reader

[depressed-fanperson]

Ok so here is my theories for Good Omens season 3

☑️More Angel Crowley flashbacks (possibly his status/name as an angel unveiled[and here are my theories on that])

☑️ “Love of My Life” by Queen as Crowley proceeds to, as Castiel put it, “I found a liquor shop. I drank it.”

☑️ Aziraphale fumbling around kinda in heaven. Like he’s just kinda really awkward up there and doesn’t really know how to do things or he just changes things to have like a couch or something idk

☑️ Muriel in the bookshop (not really a theory so much as a hope) Also Muriel finally changes her clothes (I will cry if she’s still in that all white uniform even I have limits)

☑️ Crowley going to Nina and saying “Give me Death”

☑️ The Bentley acting sad/this AMAZING post

☑️ Another kiss? Maybe? Hopefully?

☑️ a happy ending

☑️ 1941 (and possibly even more apology dances) Edit: ok so I saw this post that made me realize that 1941 was the Nazi scene and that’s probably why Aziraphale did the apology dance after the whole zombie thing but I still believe that Aziraphale is gonna do an apology dance in season 3 I feel it in my rib cage

☑️ ARCHANGEL AZIRAPHALE WITH BEARD???

☑️ this post by @ineffable-cliffhangers

☑️ I really wanna know what Neil Gaiman was talking about in this post

☑️ I am desperately hoping for this post by @feathered-serpents to happen

☑️ scenes with Aziraphale in Heaven that make you cringe with second hand embarrassment(not in a negative way more in a ‘you’re amazing and I treasure you but please don’t do that’ way)

☑️ ok but you know how Aziraphale does a super accurate drawing of Gabriel? What if he does a bunch of drawings of Crowley in heaven because he misses him so much

☑️ In season 1 we see a lot of Earth (obviously) and In season 2 we see plenty of Hell, but only a sneak peak of Heaven, so we’re definitely going to see more of Heaven, especially with Aziraphale being supreme Archangel there’s finally a reason to.

☑️what happened in Edinburgh when Crowley went to Hell?

☑️Aziraphale claims to have fooled Nefertiti, and mentions several times all the magic classes he’s been to, so maybe more history of Aziraphale and magic?

☑️ Aziraphale actually TELLING or Crowley somehow finding out that Aziraphale loves his eyes.

☑️14th Century???

☑Another reference to that 'lovely Chinese fellow' who ended up 6 feet under. I feel it in my bones.

☑️In the Shakespeare scene Crowley mentions that they’ve done the Arrangement “dozens of times before.”, so probably something in between then.

☑️God is gonna come back for narration God will come back I know she will because in s2 they were figuratively leaving the Garden and now that Azi is going back (😢) we will see more of her.

☑️CROWLEY STOPPING HIMSELF FROM CALLING AZI ANGEL

☑️Roof top scene, I swear to god there better be a roof top scene

☑️The big plane, with Jesus, and the security agents/angels; the 2nd coming. This is basically confirmed lol but I have a strong feeling that one of the Christian Big 3 will be there. (God, Jesus, Satan)

☑️In the scene where they're talking about guns and Aziraphale said that they "lends weight to a moral argument; I think.", and then Crowley snickers. He's laughing when Aziraphale says 'moral argument' and mutters it under his breath and starts walking away and Aziraphale is slightly annoyed/embarrassed and I'm sry I've started reading into everything I feel like it might have some sort of connection.

I’m going to save this and maybe add to it as time goes on then come back and fill in any checks that were right. If I’m basing any of these theories on incorrect facts or you’re confused on some of them please tell me and I’d be happy to make the corrections and further explain:).

#imma fucking die #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens season two #good omens 3 #neil gaiman #good omens headcannon #season 3 theories