#omg this got so long

[anathemafiction]

Helloooo! I was wondering how do the ROs measure up self esteem wise? Like how do they see themselves? Do they think they’re attractive? Ugly? Why? What’s their favorite and least favorite quality about themselves? Please answer as much or as little as you want! Thank you <3333

Hadrian is close to oblivious to his own good looks. He doesn't suffer from any self-esteem issue, nor is he self-conscious about any part of himself — he just doesn't feel any sense of pride about it either. He's never really thought about it. He didn't have a reason to for most of his life. 

Now that he's a mercenary and experiencing more of the world... he's starting to become more aware of his appearance, but so far, Hadrian is still pretty clueless. He's a conventionally attractive man, but I don't think he'd called himself so. He wouldn't call himself ugly, either. To him, he's just... he's Hadrian. 

Alessa isn't so oblivious. She knows she can attract eyes, and that's something she has used to her advantage before. She doesn't like it very much, though. Alessa would rather not be noticed a all, and she does a pretty good job of it. As what she thinks of herself? Alessa likes her eyes and she likes her body — because it's healthy and able, and she can run fast, jump or duck, or do whatever she needs to stay alive. 

She... tolerates her hair. She's seen women with long, midnight locks of silky hair, and jealousy is for fools, but Alessa felt something akin to it. Sometimes, while she's brushing her hair, she wishes it could be longer and darker and softer too. She wishes her hands, scarred and wounded, could be as delicate as those noblewomen. She wishes...

But wishing is for fools, and Alessa wishes nothing at all. 

Alain thinks himself extremely handsome. It's not even a front, the man really believes it. And, to be fair to him, he is. He looks good, he feels good, Alain has no self-esteem issues — not when it comes to his looks. 

Ysabella is very much like Alain, although she wasn't always so. As a young girl, she wished she could have freckles — she wished it so hard for months on end. But then freckles weren't half as important as having a bottom nose, all delicate and full and so unlike hers. She prayed every night by her window, with her eyes shut tight, but alas, the Lord never granted her a different nose. It didn't matter though, because young Bella saw a beautiful, beautiful girl with braided golden hair, and oh! She suddenly wanted hair the color of gold too. 

With time, Ysabella stopped wishing for any other body than hers. Which wasn't very hard to do when you look like her. She likes what she sees in the mirror, although, I wouldn't say Ysbaella considers herself beautiful. Charming, yes. Lovely, even, but not beautiful. But there's no one part of herself that she'd change. 

The Pirate King doesn't think he's particularly good-looking, but that doesn't matter a bit because attractiveness, he's found, comes from how one carries himself. And there are few things women answer as strongly as confidence. He's scarred, his hair is wind battered, his skin rough from the sun, his teeth crooked in places — and even so, the Pirate walks with a swagger, hands firm on the handles of his axes, and he doesn't feel a little bit ashamed. 

Plus, he thinks he's got a great sense of style. He isn't ugly, and if there's one thing he likes about himself is his muscles. He knows he looks good naked. Other than that... if fate had granted him just a little bit of extra height, he wouldn't have opposed it. 

Neia is an interesting one. On one hand, she's very aware of the effect she has on women. She doesn't need to try very hard to win someone to warm her bed, it usually just entails a sharp look, a slow smile, and a nudge of the head. On the other hand, Neia barely looks in the mirror. She just doesn't care. She has a deep scar on her cheek, twisting her lip in a perpetual snarl, and she couldn't care less. She has broad shoulders, thick thighs, and harsh hands, so unlike what's expected of women — and again, she thinks nothing of it. 

Has she been called ugly? No, but who would call the head of the Inquisitor anything but "Your Excellency"? But if some suicidal fool did call her ugly, Neia would think nothing of it. She wouldn't call herself that, though. 

Lance will tell you he has no balms about his appearance. Look at him, he'd say, with his arms opened wide. Look at his vest, his hair, and the gold on his tooth. He wants to be seen, and why would one want to be seen if one didn't think one was worth seeing? His smile is wide and pleasant, his eyes amused, and you wouldn't think for a moment that the spy was lying. 

But lying he would be because Lance has parts of himself that he doesn't like. Or maybe like isn't the right word. There are parts of himself that Lance can't even look at. Is he ashamed of them? He is. Would he change them? In a heartbeat. 

Does he consider himself handsome? He does not. But, then again, what do looks matter when compared with talent? And if there's one thing Lance knows he has, is talent. 

Rafael thinks he's... Rafael doesn't like to think about himself much. To be honest, the bastard doesn't think he's very good-looking, no, but in the grand scheme of things, that doesn't matter much. His character flaws — his choices — are the things Rafael is truly ashamed of. So what if people don't like his hair or insult his goatee, or say his cloak needs replacement? He'll sneer at them, maybe throw an insult or two, and put them off his mind. 

He doesn't care. He doesn't care at all. But he flinches every time, and when he's talking to someone he finds attractive, Rafael will sometimes have trouble holding their gaze. And he avoids smiling too, because there's a gap in his teeth, and when he takes off his shirt, he's aware he's too scrawny. He's too goddamn—

Doesn't matter though. To hell with them all. Rafael doesn't care.

#omg this got so long #but I couldn't stop T_T #Hadrian #Alessa #Alain #Ysabella #The Pirate King #Neia #Lance #Rafael #The Golden Rose #snippets

[myhiraeth]

Ahhhhhhh okay finally it's done @noblehcart ENJOY VENGEFUL BABYGIRL

One month and six days. 874 hours. It seems so much longer since she watched Stefan grasp his chest, red spilling out between his fingers. Since she watched from the ground where he'd pushed her out of the way of the sniper he'd spotted, neither of them realizing it wasn't for her to begin with. Since she pushed herself off the ground, a half beat too slow to catch him from staggering backward a shocked step and tripping over the edge of the balcony railing they had been laughing not days before about how short it was.

Suited for her stature, not his, they'd chuckled.

That laughter had seemed so long ago as they stood, fighting as they had been doing almost constantly since Wolfe's reappearance in her life, about strategy and tactics and why she wouldn't let him go after the single most terrifying man in her life.

How could she have told him that part of her reluctance was the ever present 'what if' of his failure, but part of it was the 'what if' of Wolfe's death? How did she confess she feared them both, even if unequally?

Wolfe hadn't held the gun. No, that was beneath him. He'd simply hired someone to destroy her entire existence in a single, fleeting moment. Paid and vanished into the ether.

She'd find him, eventually. Once she had Wolfe's records. He kept a careful trail of each and every atrocious act he contracted, just in case he needed it for leverage one day.

Stefan was dead. Gone, like her sanity. Her heart. Her soul.

Her restraint.

She's always toed the line with Wolfe. Partially out of fear, mostly out of respect. She could never forget he was the first to drag her out of the hell that was her home life as a child. She owed him everything. She had given him everything. Even when she needed to escape, she'd done so without killing him, knowing he'd talk his way out of some CIA hole in the ground and into some lofty white collar prison thanks to his endless connections and intel to offer.

This time, though, he'd gone too far.

Something had shattered in her, looking over the balcony, screaming for Stefan as he lay prone and unmoving on the ground below. Something irrepressible had taken root in her and tangled itself, dark and vengeful, around her rib cage as she looked at him, as what Wolfe had done truly sunk in. So this was the game he wanted to play. So be it, then.

He had taken her back. She could scarcely believe it herself. He was smarter than that and yet- he took her back. She let him think it was his own doing, let him come find her days later, in the home she'd shared with Stefan, let him make his offer, let him smile at her refusal and her heartbreak, let him threaten Liesel's life and finally, with tears streaking down her face,

let him be the one to benevolently accept her resignation to her fate as his little raven once more.

But he wasn't the wolf this time. He was the carcass. He just didn't know it yet.

It didn't take nearly so long this time around. Last time she had to play every piece perfectly, lay every stepping stone exactly where it needed to be and lead each player onto the right stone at the right moment to ensure Wolfe would be out of her life but still alive. To insure as few casualties as possible.

She no longer cared. If a few dozen people had to die for her to get her revenge so be it. They knew the risks when they signed their souls over to Wolfe. Perhaps they deserved to die, as much as she did.

If she were to die in this life, she was going to take out Stefan's murderer with her at least.

It was to come to a head tonight: one month, six days, and thirteen hours after Stefan landed with that sickening thud that haunted her nightmares and Wolfe stole him from her for good. It turned out that not worrying about casualties drastically shortened your timeline. Perhaps that was how Wolfe was so efficient for so long. He didn't care. And now, neither did she.

Dinner was always a dressy affair. Wolfe liked to show off, even if it were just the two of them. His attire was his armor, much like hers was.

"Cerci, my darling, you're too quiet tonight. It's boring me."

She bowed her head apologetically. "Lost in my thoughts, apologies. We were talking about the Swiss accountants." She rattled off pretty nonsense that would never matter after tonight about people she hadn't actually spoken to. He'd never know, what did it matter.

She talked, and plied and entertained until his water glass was emptied down his throat for the third time and he complained about the spice in the food. "I love a good seasoning but it feels as though it's trying to kill me." He teased, a wolfish smile teasing his lips, taunting her.

But finally, after too long of waiting and plotting, she could smile back; slowly... poisonously. "It is." He coughed again, uncertainty taking over his laughing eyes, and she stood, downing the last of her wine glass unbecomingly, her water glass untouched since the meal began. "Oh, Wolfe..." she tsk'ed a few times, dabbing at her lips with a napkin before making her way slowly to his side of the table. "You really aren't as bright as you seem."

He's still coughing, calling for the kitchen staff, for his security, throwing the food from the table with a grand sweep of his arms, sending it clattering to the ground. "What did you do?"

"Surely you must have seen this coming? You didn't kill Stefan Ivanov because he was a pretty face. You killed him because he was my weakness, without even realizing the irony."

His coughing is starting to splatter blood droplets across the table, and he's bracing himself with both hands, waiting for his security. But they weren't coming. "Which is?" He snarled.

"That I'm your weakness. It's why you killed him. Why you came back for me. Why you forced me back into this role, this... playact. And somehow you thought that I was just going to bow down and accept it."

He calls for his guards again and she laughs as he stumbles on unsteady knees, falling back into his seat. "No one's coming, love..." Her voice is low, soothing- the voice she'd once used on a sick lover to reassure him. But there was little reassuring about the hollowness in her eyes, in the steadiness of her hand as she wrapped slender fingers around his smooth Japanese bladed steak knife. "They're likely already dead." He looks up at her, panic in his eyes for the first time... certainly the first time in her life that she'd ever seen.

"You're so careful about food, deliveries, anything that could be tampered with." With her free hand she lifts his emptied water glass, the one he'd drank three of to chase away the overly spiced food she'd made sure he'd be served, and tilts it playfully at him. "But you're so careless about your private well. The one that serves this entire compound. If they're lucky and haven't drank much today, they're just sick. But most of the security teams drinks their canteens like fish- they're almost certainly dead. Which means there's no one to hear you die." She leisurely stepped back behind his chair.

He's mumbling now, through the blood in his mouth. It's unintelligible but it doesn't matter. Whatever he has to say is meaningless at this point. She leans around the seat to whisper in his ear. "Goodbye, Wolfe." And slide the blade across his throat.

He reaches on instinct to staunch the bleeding but it's no use and after only seconds, he slumps forward. She nudges him back up, trying to keep the bloodloss on the high backed wooden chair and the floor rather than continue to stain the expensive, heavy wooded table.

Blood stains her hands and its a curious sensation- she's never been one to be hands on, to have violence and death so intimately embedded in her skin. But there's satisfaction in it as well, even as one of the kitchen staff- who never have time to drink during the day- comes running out, only to freeze like a panicked fawn at the sight in front of her.

Cerci offers a bored look. "I'm still hungry, Marguerite. Do we still have those beignets I like?" A nervous nod, and Cerci matches the motion lazily, pulling the chair backwards and pushing Wolfe out of it to slump on the floor, still sluggishly bleeding. "Good. I'll have them. And tell the staff still here to not drink the tap water. " She settled in the bloodied chair, setting the knife on the table in front of her. "It's been tainted. Only bottled."

"Yes, ma'am."

#omg this got SO LONG #but like #worth it #i hope hahahah #noblehcart #cerci london. / verse. / wolfeverse #tw death #tw violence #tw blood and gore

[the-last-doppelganger]

💔

A fucked up kissing meme

20. A kiss that won’t be remembered.

She was putting up decorations for the decade dance when she felt his presence behind her. She could feel the fear rising within her, her gut twisting as she turned to stare at Stefan, her fingers burrowing into the fairy lights in her hands. Stefan wasn’t himself anymore, she knew that, he’d bitten her right here in this room just a a few weeks ago.

She didn’t know how to talk to him anymore.

“What are you doing here Stefan?” Her voice shook slightly as he walked towards her, and she cleared her throat. Elena was determined to hide her fear from him. His response would be the same as always, she knew, that he was just there to ensure that Klaus’ blood bag was unharmed.

He’d gotten harsh ever since he’d lost his humanity.

“Actually, you know what Stefan? I don’t care why you’re here,” despite her words however, she did care. “I just wanna do this and go home.”

By the time she was done talking, he was already in front of her. His hand grasped at her chin, and she couldn’t get herself to pull away from him. She never could pull away from Stefan.

He didn’t say anything, but she recognised the look in his eyes. It was almost as if his humanity was closer to the surface than before, his eyes determined to fight Klaus’ compulsion again somehow.

She could feel a thin tendril of hope growing within her, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

Didn’t want to stop it.

“Stefan,” her voice softened, and despite everything, she wanted to reach out to him, to try and get him to turn his humanity back on. “Stefan I know that things are tough right now, but I also know you can fight it, you almost did that night." She shivered as she thought of prank night, but didn't look away from Stefan.

His touch seemed to slacken somehow, and she could see something like want in his gaze. She swallowed heavily, she hadn't even thought of kissing him in a while. Convinced that he didn't want her anymore. Scared that he might lose control and hurt her. But it had been months since she'd been this close to him without it turning violent. It had been months since he'd looked at her with such desire, such....affection. His humanity was closer to the surface, and she didn't know why, or when it would happen again.

There was also desire growing within her, and she leaned up, capturing his lips with hers. For a moment, he was frozen, and she was worried that she'd done the wrong thing, but then his hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her closer. She keened at his touch, a rightness in this moment that she hadn't felt for months. Her eyes closed as she savoured the taste of him, determined to remember this. Whether Stefan turned his humanity back on or not, she had missed this, had missed him. When he turned more insistent, she relaxed against him, the familiar heat of him driving her fear to the edges. It was like the first time all over again, and yet, it was different. His lips were bruising on hers, but she stood on the tips of her toes to press into him.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck though, he pulled away suddenly. The loss of him made her reel for a moment, and she touched her lips in disbelief. It had actually happened, Stefan had really kissed her, it wasn't just some dream or fantasy.

She wanted to him how much she'd missed this, missed him, but before she could, he was tugging at her necklace. It came undone within a moment, and that fear, so unfamiliar when she was around him, rose within her.

"Stefan-" but she was cut off by his words taking root in her brain, casting a net over her mind. To forget it had ever happened. when she came out of her daze, she was standing in the middle of the gym, alone. The fairy lights had clattered to the ground, and she felt for a moment, as if something was amiss.

But that thought was chased away immediately, and she went back to decorating the gym.

@brokenbrxther

#brokenbrxther #omg this got so long #and so angsty #I hope it's okay though!

[kauze-bridgerton]

🤥 LYING, 🌹 ROSE, ❇️ SPARKLE (;))

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have clues to show they are lying?

I believe that liar would not be the right word, but Kauze has the ability to hide what he is really feeling.

It would be like if he put on a mask and pretend everything is fine.

Other than that, Kauze will always be very honest with many things, if you wear something, and he doesn't like the style and you ask him what he thinks, he will give his true opinion, but he will always find a way to say it without hurting feelings of a person.

"If I'm fine? Of course, there's no problem with me. Oh, and about your outfit... Well, you asked for my honest opinion, so... I believe you could look even better in another type of fabric, this one is not enhancing the amazing person that you are."

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentine's day? have they been confessed before? Have they confessed to anyone before?

In the old days, Kauze was very fond of "human" celebrations, but as he grew up, he ended up finding it a complete waste of time, and that includes Valentine's Day.

Of course, if your partner or partnership likes the date, they will do everything to make that day special, even if they don't like the date.

"Valentine's Day... Uhg... Okay, we can do something to celebrate this day, for me, being with you and by your side, and everything I need... We don't need a human festival to celebrate this , every day with you with me is special to me"

Kauze always receives dating requests and when he was a child, he received the famous "love letters", but he is very closed about it, since most of the time he feels that his "suitors" are only interested in his appearance. , money and power rather than on his personality and who he really is.

Different from when he was a child, Kauze has become a very cautious man when it comes to relationships, especially loving ones, since, due to the abuse he suffered in childhood and adolescence, he has become someone who prefers to stay in his corner instead of looking for the true love.

He has already confessed that he had interests in some people throughout his life, but he always went back, due to his traumas suffered in childhood.

"Honestly, now that I can fend for 'it', I prefer to stay in my corner and let things flow naturally, even if it takes a while."

❇�� SPARKLE - what is your most prized possession? what do they value?

Currently, his most prized possession is his adopted daughter, Kaori, he would give his life for her without a second thought.

"She's pretty much all I've got and I'm all she's got... We're like a team, I'm going to give her everything I didn't have, I want to make sure she gets all the best... Yes, I'm a doting dad."

What Kauze values most in his life are the people he loves, since he was a child he has always prioritized his friends, and even though he had become a bit distant when he grew up, he still always wants to see his friends well.

He has enormous gratitude for all those who helped him in his childhood, whether offering him a safe haven, or simply giving him the slightest attention.

"I'm grateful and everyone took care of me in some way, but I feel like I have to prove that I've grown up, and now I can make my own decisions on my own... And decide my destiny."

#kauzebridgerton #kauze bridgerton #diabolik lovers oc #kauze-bridgerton #omg this got so long

[imprvdente]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐔

Disclaimer: I haven’t finished reading all the books yet so this won’t have any spoilers! Also, I think this AU works great with crossovers, so you don’t need to know the books to interact with it!

Fish was born in a little town in the South of France. With her parents Daphné and Armand, two professors of Greek Mythology, she had a very happy childhood. And she never really questioned all the odd little things that happened to her. Like how she could breathe underwater, or how she seemed to attract sea animals of all kinds whenever she went for a swim.

Life was good. Until a school trip to New York City, when she was 14. See, her parents did not warn her that she'd be in grave danger there, they didn't know! And sure, they could have told her the truth about her birth, but again, they couldn't imagine what waited for her in New York.

Monsters. Oh, she had read about them in books. She just didn't know monsters were real. So after a week of being hunted down and attacked a satyr (A SATYR???) found her and took her to the only place she'd be safe. A little summer camp near New York, Camp Half-Blood.

There, she learned that apparently, her dad was Poseidon. Which wasn't supposed to happen, because Poseidon had sworn to never have kids again. But after a quick phone call to her parents, things became clearer. Technically, he had only given Daphné and Armand a daughter as a gift, for Poseidon worshipers were getting pretty rare these days. Also, she was supposed to stay in France, away from the Gods, the monsters, and all that jazz. So well, the argument was made that this was an unexpected but acceptable exception, and the Gods didn't smite her just for existing. Great.

Except that now, she can't take the plane back to France (Zeus would pulverize it in mid-air, long story) and has to stay in Camp Half-Blood.

TLDR: Fish had a regular childhood in France, but during a trip to New York City, she found out that she was the daughter of Poseidon. Which makes her a demigod, and also a tasty prey for monsters of all sorts.

#omg this got so long #congrats if u read it all fdjkhfkdjs #percy jackson AU #new verse #Fish (Monet)

[seraphfighter]

sfw: 3, 11, 12. nsfw: 2, 10, 12 for valerie and johnny if ur still accepting these!!!! <333

Tysm for asking about these two idiots <3 I will never pass up a chance to talk about them

Sfw:

3. If any of their vehicles break down, they will both try to work on it to figure out what's wrong--not without bickering of course. I imagine they both know their way around vehicles, Valerie from growing up on the streets klepping cars, and Johnny from owning the Porsche (which I like to think he fixed it up himself). They won't always get the car fixed, but they try.

11. They're both shower people. Valerie has never lived in a place that has access to a tub and Johnny just doesn't care for baths. They almost always shower together for no other reason than wanting to be close to each other (Johnny also uses it as an excuse for shower sex). Showering together is a way for them to take care of each other in ways no one else has for either of them. If they did have a place with a tub, Valerie would only use it if she was sore and she would convince Johnny to join her. And because they act like children, there would be bubble fights.

12. Johnny definitely talks the most between them. The man doesn't know how to shut up. He hates silence, whereas Valerie is more comfortable with it, so he tries to fill it. Sometimes she wants silence and has to be like "Babe, I love you but for the love of God shut the fuck up." It never lasts, because if Johnny isn't talking he's making some other kind of noise, whether by humming to himself, tapping his foot, or playing the guitar.

Nsfw:

2. Valerie and Johnny are both very physical people. Having sex is one of the ways they feel closest to each other which leads to them both initiating. Johnny maybe slightly more often. As the kinkier one, he's also who usually brings ideas to the table. Valerie is generally satisfied with vanilla sex, but she does end up enjoying Johnny's ideas--especially if it involves her topping him.

10. Johnny will not let Valerie go without an orgasm, preferably multiple. He knows she hasn't had a lot of nice experiences with sex and wants to make it good for her. (Plus, it validates his ego lol). She'd be fine not having an orgasm every time, but she's not going to stop him. Because of this, he usually makes sure she orgasms before him. But, Valerie knows what buttons to push and how to get Johnny worked up enough to make him finish before her, so it doesn't always happen. He pays her back for it after.

12. They're very touchy-feely in their afterglows. Always cuddled up to each other, kissing, hands never leaving skin. It's time they have to themselves where they can be soft and give each other love they weren't used to receiving before. And if aftercare is needed, they do everything to make sure the other is comfortable--cleaning them up, giving them food or water, showering them with praise. It's not what one would expect from how they act around others, but they're fine with keeping that vulnerability between them.

#omg this got so long #i can't shut up when it comes to these two #ship: bleed into me #ch: valerie ramirez

[bluebeary-jay]

How easy you are to need

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)

Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable

Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌

Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)

A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕

Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.

He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.

Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.

He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…

Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.

He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.

“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”

“You left some for me?”

You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.

“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”

“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”

“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”

You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.

“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”

“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”

You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”

Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.

But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.

“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”

You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.

“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”

Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.

So why did he still feel so uncertain?

*****

Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.

Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.

Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.

None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.

Maybe that was the problem.

Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.

But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.

Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.

Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.

You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.

Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.

Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.

His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.

It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.

You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.

Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.

It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.

For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.

Joel was once, too. Once.

He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.

He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.

Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?

“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”

Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.

“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”

“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.

“I'll be right back, baby.”

Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.

He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.

Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.

You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.

“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.

“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Probably.”

You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.

“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”

“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”

You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.

“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.

It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.

“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.

Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.

Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.

Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.

Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.

*****

The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.

He had a couple of them.

The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.

Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.

Well, not anymore.

The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.

You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.

It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.

He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.

Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.

So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.

The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.

He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.

A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.

You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.

But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…

Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.

But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.

Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.

Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.

Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.

But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.

Maybe he should start exercising.

Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.

With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.

Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…

“You’re quiet.”

Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.

“Sorry.”

“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.

Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.

“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”

You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.

“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.

“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”

Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.

“You’re gettin’ sappy.”

“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.

You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.

“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”

Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.

“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”

Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.

Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.

The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.

Old.

Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”

“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”

You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.

And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.

*****

It had to end.

Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.

If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.

He fucking craved it.

Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.

No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.

But it was a damn torture.

The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.

He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.

Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.

If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.

Christ, he was the worst.

Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.

It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.

Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.

Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.

He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–

“Morning, handsome.”

Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.

You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.

“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.

“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”

“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”

Joel looked at you with surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”

He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.

But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?

With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.

“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”

Joel didn’t move. “Why?”

You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.

“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”

He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”

Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.

With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.

“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”

“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”

“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”

“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.

“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.

“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I…”

I love you, too.

Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?

Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.

A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…

He couldn’t do it.

Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.

“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”

“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”

All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.

“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”

You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.

For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–

But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.

So he let you in. He let you hold him.

“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”

“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”

He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.

But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.

He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.

You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.

“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”

Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.

“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”

He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.

“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”

Fuck, man, just say it.

“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”

“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”

Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.

“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”

“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”

Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”

“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”

Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.

“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”

Joel didn’t know what else to say.

He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.

“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.

You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.

“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”

“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”

“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”

Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.

He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.

“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”

Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.

And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.

It was so long since he fully let you hold him.

Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.

“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”

Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”

You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”

“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.

“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”

Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.

“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 

“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”

“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”

Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.

“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”

“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.

“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”

The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.

“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”

“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.

“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”

You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.

“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”

“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”

God, he loved you so much.

Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.

“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #i will actually be taking a break because i have uni stuff to do which i REALLY neglected on behalf of this fic #i really got carried away with this one and the final scene took me so long to write omg #i really tried to approach this topic with respect and understanding and i very much hope it's alright #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #the last of us fic

[professional-termite]

nbc hannibal au where everything is the same except hannibal has a tumblr blog called i-cook-and-eat-rude-people and nobody questions or reports it because they think its just another gimmick blog

#he doesnt post pictures of him eating people or anything #people just send him “rp” asks about cannibalism #and he answers completely accurately #and then the account goes offline for 3 years right as hannibal is arrested #and that starts a bunch of wild speculation about “omg did the chesapeake ripper have a tumblr blog or is this part of the gimmick???” #eventually hannibal makes one final post like “hey guys srry i was gone so long i got arrsted for eating all those people. i am currently #fleeing the country with my boyfriend. expect to never hear from me again“ #and then it just becomes common knowledge that the chesapeake ripper was a tumblrina #its added to the pantheon of messed up crap that has gone on in this site #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #nbc hannigram #hannibal #termite talks

[sukunasweetheart]

after learning that sukuna canonly speaks in an elegent and poetic way and uses old japanese terms (that sadly gets lost in translation) i can’t stop thinking of him being a literature or terminology professor😖 like this man would say romantic things to you out of nowhere and you’re like “what?🥴” and he says “what? what’s the big deal🤨”

no bc picture sukuna with glasses and a coffee in one hand, wearing an awfully smart outfit, his passion for jujutsu replaced with passion for literature, a tall mf who has an unapproachable aura in every way possible

his classes are by no means, for the weak. high demand, but high results. meaning, if you successfully endure and manage to grit your teeth through his assignments and harsh, but reasonable critique, you will have attained something very valuable from the experience, because this man expects nothing but the best from students who sit through his classes and want to learn about the art of literature + poetry

so many college students develop a crush on him, despite his difficult personality...

his lovelife is rather stagnant, however. literature professor!sukuna is too careful about who he brings into his life, being mostly uninterested in romance and the turmoil it brings to a person. he isn't fond of the idea that he could be potentially swayed so easily by one singular person. how awful would it be that your entire mood could depend on one individual? he was pretty content with spending the rest of his life as a single man, so be it.

but really, nobody is immune to the nature of falling in love... it can be something that happens at the snap of one's fingers. or it can be gradual, like a slow but firm tug that pulls you in closer towards someone. it can occur almost violently, and you might find yourself thrashing frantically against the net that you've gotten tangled up in. or, it can occur in a way that is as elegant and gentle as how one handles their most beloved books, flipping through each page without leaving as much as a crease behind...

for sukuna, all the boxes can be ticked off. falling in love with you, a fellow professor, was like experiencing all of these at once. the realisation hit like a bolt of lightning, when he caught himself... smiling? when he was reading an email of yours. he had to take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose for that one. there was no way. it happens this quickly?

it's hard to say whether he fell in deep from the start, or if happened more like sinking slowly, helpless, in quicksand. either way, it didn't matter whether he tried to struggle or not, he was only plummeting further.

it only hurt him when he tried to distance himself away. it only hurt him when he tried holding himself back from contacting you. it seemed like everything he did in attempt to quell the thrumming in his heart, only came back to hurt him.

it started off as emails between two professional colleagues. but eventually, it developed into polite follows onto each other's social media accounts. and almost inevitably, personal numbers were then exchanged after much talking in dms. it was very funny, seeing his empty shell of an instagram account, no posts or even a profile picture in place. such clever and well pronounced prose coming from a colourless account.

let's not get into the moment where he first experienced your touch. when handing him a novel, you brushed fingers with him, and sukuna felt a strange tingle that travelled down his spine.

many instances come- where an overwhelming desire to pull you close to him by the waist, grasps him by the throat. the conflicting compulsion and urge to wreck you, but also having the need to treat you like he would a fragile butterfly.

he goes out drinking with you, one evening. already a dangerous move.

in a soft, but a little busy area in maybe a small, cheap restaurant where the two of you are residing. both of you a little tipsy, but not drunk. tipsy enough for lingering gazes. tipsy enough for the little unnoticeable but definitely noticeable touches. tipsy enough to bring out the vulnerability to seep out of yours and his eyes.

you and him, confined in a little cosy and invisible bubble… all and every noise that's made outside of it sounds muffled.

the tilting of your head as you look at him with a flirtatious smile, the reach of your delicate fingers approaching his cheek slowly, but then retracting because you're still unsure, because you're only tipsy.

and he, with his mellow eyes, grabs onto your hand before you can get away. why don't you commit? his searing hot palm clasps over your skin, and it captures you in every way possible.

and you're doing it again. you're batting your eyelashes at him, tempting him into doing something definitively irreversible. now that he's touched you, he can't compel himself to let go. you've done it now. there's nothing he can do to stop this.

your eyes follow as he reaches for his own glasses, still holding onto your hand, grip so firm yet so gentle. sukuna takes them off. carefully places them onto the table. the next order of events should have been so painfully obvious, but it still didn't fail in making your heart pound within your ribcage.

he kisses you so feverishly. he palms your jawline with great tenderness, bringing you in impossibly closer. so enraptured, so infatuated, so sweet. he holds your hand tighter, gliding his large thumb over it.

it brings him an intense amount of joy, touching you like this. it's addicting. and he never wants to let go again. he's a selfish man at heart, already claiming you as his internally, because you enthrall him and induce such pleasure like no one before. oh, how aggravating. but also, simply delightful.

it's time he brought you home. if you've caught someone up in your web, it's only right you take responsibility. will you consume him? or will he do it first?

after this string of events, sukuna is most definitely no longer a single man. having a lover around has its merits, and its disadvantages. but never does the bad outweigh the good, at least when it comes to you.

maybe he'll write an excerpt about you. a little free verse poem. beautifully worded, but incredibly abstract. nobody could guess how it all ties back to you. not even yourself, perhaps. but that's what sukuna intended. he's satisfied with keeping this secret to himself.

you'd think having such a mellow lovelife would also transfer the same softness into his lectures, and assignments. wrong. as a professor, he's still as prickly as ever.

#this didnt meant to be so fucking long bruh but i got carried away oopsiess omg #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x reader #poe answers

[ohbo-ohno]

loneliness and fallen woman with price please! happy 1000 followers ❤️

1k game here - no more please!

alright anon. i gotta be real with you, i barely used the prompts you gave and for that i really am sorry. i wrote like 1k of this about three different times because they kept just not being quite right, and they got increasingly further and further from the prompts. sorry!

2.6k of reader x local crime kingpin price. no smut! (the background plot and "worldbuilding" here is really weak, but just ignore it lol)

You know you’re doing something stupid, but that seems to be all you’re capable of these days. The last few weeks have been nothing but stipid decision after stupid decision, your absolute stupidest decision leading you to this exact moment.

You should’ve never slept with John Price. You should’ve known, should’ve recognized his face, but you’d been a little tipsy and a little desperate, and hadn’t connected the very common name John with the very well known criminal John Price. 

No, that had come the next morning, when you’d woken up before him and been able to really take a look at him, completely sober. Him and the gun in its holster resting on his folded pile of clothes.

You should’ve recognized him long before then, and you should’ve turned tail and run. You shouldn’t have let him buy you a drink, you shouldn’t have let him coax you into dumping all your troubles onto him, and you certainly shouldn’t have slept with him. 

You’d left before he could wake up and say God knows what, fear pumping through your veins at the realization of who you’d slept with. You’d nearly knocked yourself out trying to get dressed, almost fallen on top of him before you managed to stumble out of the hotel room he’d bought for you.

Everyone knows John Price. No one ever really bothers to detail why he’s dangerous, but they all seem confident he is. You’re a recent transfer to the area, and you still haven’t been able to get anyone to really say why they always whisper when they say his name.

What you do know about him is that every few weeks, almost routinely, you hear that he’s been arrested. Then two or three days later, like clockwork, it’s announced that he’s escaped, always thought to be “armed and dangerous”. His mugshots are shown on TV enough that it’s truly surprising you hadn’t recognized him at the bar. 

You always figured you’d never run into him. You don’t exactly lead a life of crime, don’t exaclty put yourself in harm’s way. You work a boring nine to five job, have dinner with friends every couple weeks, occasionally meet up with someone from a dating app, and never really stray from that. Had he not happened to be in the same bar as you, you never would’ve met him, never would’ve slept with him, and never would’ve been hunting him down now, weeks later.

Hell, you might not have even slept with him had you not just been stood up by what was supposed to be a first date on the same day you’d lost out on a promotion. But a few shots, that loneliness that grows more and more familiar every day, a simmering frustration in your career, and a handsome man are not a good combination for your self control. 

But you had slept with him, had been especially stupid and not even worn protection - something you’d only really noticed the next morning, when you felt… him still leaking from you, saw that there was no condom wrapper.

And now here you are - stood in that same run down bar you’d first met him in, wearing an old hoodie and your favorite sweatpants, three positive pregnancy tests tucked in your front pocket.

You try to take a deep breath.

You really don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve been running on autopilot since you realized you might be pregnant, the time between buying tests and taking them a blur. Even now, you’re running on instinct alone. Instinct tells you to find John Price, and tell him about… this.

You can figure everything else out after. 

You scan the crowd, hoping to spot him quickly. You know he owns the bar - something you’d found out once you’d gotten home and fallen deep into a rabbit hole and read everything about the man you could find. You’re not sure how he still owns the bar considering he’s got multiple warrants out for his arrest, but you figure it’s probably the same reason he never actually ends up in jail.

But he’s not here now. At least, not anywhere you can see.

You step up to the bar, rest your elbows on the counter and rest your head in your hands, taking a few long, stablizing breaths.

“What can I get for ye?”

You glance up at the sudden voice, coming face to face with the bartender. It’s not the same man as last time - this man’s got a Scottish accent and a mohawk, a far cry from the darker skinned British man with pretty eyes who’d served you last time.

“Do you…” you glance around again, sigh, and decide you should try and find somewhere to compose yourself a bit. “Do you guys have a bathroom I could use?”

“Course,” he smiles at you, open and friendly, and you feel some of the tension ease from your shoulders. “Just ‘round that corner there, a few doors down. Can’t miss it.”

You give him a tight smile, mutter your thanks as you head in the direction he’d gestured. His directions are exactly right, the women’s bathroom door towards the end of the hallway but clearly marked.

Just past the bathroom doors is a stairwell. The door is half open, but you can clearly see the stairs even halfway down the hallway. You’re not sure why, but you walk right past the bathrooms, ducking into the stairwell instead after shooting a quick look over your shoulder to make sure no one saw you. 

It’s nearly silent, the music from the bar growing more and more muffled as you start to make your way to the next floor. It’s even quieter once you reach your destination, just a distant and faint rumbling in the floorboards.

You step out into a hallway with four doors - two of them with nameplates nailed to them. Stepping close, you see one is labeled Simon Riley and the other reads John Price.

Before you can consider whether or not you’re making another stupid decision you’re knocking on the door with Price’s name. 

You regret it the moment your knuckles rap against the wood, can’t believe you keep doing such stupid things without thinking.

Before you can even get a step away from the door, there’s a voice calling out from inside the room.

“Come in.”

Your breath hitches. 

You can’t leave now. There’s no way he wouldn’t come to the door, see who knocked. You’re not about to ding dong ditch John Price, but that doesn’t make it any easier to move forward. You only manage it because you feel oddly exposed in the hallway, and your nerves urge you forward enough to open the door.

You shut it quickly behind you, eager for privacy for some reason you can’t quite pin down. Listening to your instincts regardless, you keep your back pressed to the closed door and shove one hand in your pocket to wrap around the pregnancy tests.

John looks… mostly the same, which only makes you feel even more foolish for not recognizing him on the night that started this whole mess.

His beard’s a bit longer, but he’s got a button up and that silly hat on, the same thing he’d been wearing the first night you saw him. It’s almost like you’re yanked back to that night without warning, the only real difference being the fact that he’s sat behind a desk instead of beside you.

“Oh,” he says, looking oddly unsurprised as he leans back in his chair, hands lacing over his stomach. “It’s you. My little runaway.”

You scowl, your trepidation immediately replaced with anger. 

“First of all,” you hiss, scowling and moving towards his desk, the twitch at the corner of his lips only working you up further. “I’m not your anything. And I didn’t run away.”

His lips curve into a fuller smile, and he shifts his chair back enough for you to see his thighs, thick and bulging against his tight pants. He’s manspreading in his own office chair, and you have to swallow thickly when you realize just how attractive it is.

When you glance back to his face and see the distinctly smug expression he’s wearing, your ire only grows.

“Not sure what else you’d call it,” he rumbles. “Was hoping to spend a little more time with you, love, but you were gone before we could set up a date.”

You instinctively go to bite back, but stumble a bit when what he’d said settles. The idea that he’d been disappointed when he woke up alone, that he wanted more time with you…

You shake the thought off. It doesn’t matter, you have more important things to discuss.

You force yourself to straighten, fingers toying with the tests in your pocket. Your nerves return now that you’re really face to face with John again, now that you’ve got to actually figure out how to tell him. 

He seems to sense the shift in your mood, leaning forward so he’s not sprawled out so casually and resting his forearms on his desk.

“Why’re you here, love?”

This is it, you think to yourself, closing your eyes to take a deep, stablizing breath.

You tug the pregnancy tests out of your pocket, drop them wordlessly in front of him. It’s hard to keep your eyes open, to watch his expression as he slowly looks down at your offering, watch as realization washes over him.

John’s silent for a long moment. Your palms sweat, and you just barely resist the urge to wipe them off on your pants.

Finally, he looks back up at you, shifting in his chair. “You’re sure?”

You hesitate, nod a bit. “There are… I took more, at home. Didn’t want to bring them all.”

He nods, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. “And it’s mine?”

You flush, face going hot. You know it’s a fair question, but you can’t help but bristle anyway. 

“Yes,” you hiss, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I haven’t… I didn’t…” You cut yourself off, the words you were my first trapping themselves behind your teeth. You hadn’t meant to lose your virginity to John Price, and you see no need to tell him you even had. As far as you’re concerned, you can keep that knowledge to yourself. “It’s yours.”

He doesn’t look convinced, and that only makes your face go hotter. You fight the urge to tuck your hands beneath your armpits, determined not to shrink in front of this man.

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” you elaborate, eyes flicking away from his face.

He takes a deep breath, exhales in a loud sigh. You hear his fingers tap against the desk, just barely bite back your annoyance at the sound. You work your tongue between your teeth, nerves racing again.

“Well,” he eventually says, standing from his chair. You can’t help but jolt a bit, having forgotten just how big he is. He towers over you even from a few feet away, his broad shoulders and barrel chest only making him feel twice as large. It’s a conscious effort on your part not to take a step back. “I hope you weren’t too attached to your apartment, love.”

He stalks around the desk, walking towards the door, but you can’t move from your spot. Your eyebrows furrow, and you track him with your eyes.

“My apartment? What’re you talking about?”

He shoots you a look, one you have no idea how to interpret, as he tugs his door open. “Simon!”

“John,” you hiss, stepping closer to him again. “What’re you-?”

He holds a hand up to quiet you as the other door opens, and you can just barely spot another man stepping forward. “Yeah?”

“Need you to call some movers. Need to get my girl moved into my place.”

You gape like a fish as the new man leans to the side a bit to look where Price is gesturing to you, and he nods. “Got it. Timeline?”

“Done by tonight.”

The other man grunts, and leaves again. John closes the door, turning back to you and starting back to his desk.

“What- what the hell?” You splutter, mouth opening and closing in shock. “You can’t- you don’t even know where I live!”

John settles back into his chair and shoots you a look that you can clearly read - it’s nothing but unimpressed.

“Course I do, love. Did you think we wouldn’t be meeting again?”

You blink at him, dumbfounded, as he turns to his computer, lips twitching into a smile.

“Of course we wouldn’t,” you try, hand resting on one of the chairs in front of the desk to steady yourself. “We only… we only slept together once. I didn’t even know who you were.”

He hums an agreement, typing. “No, you didn’t. But that doesn’t matter, you know now. And considering the other… developments,” he shoots a look to your belly, and you rest your free hand over the small curve protectively. “It’s best we get to know each other in far closer quarters, hm?”

“No,” you argue, trying to inject some sterness into your tone. “I’m not moving in with you, that’s ridiculous. I just… I only told you about the baby so you could be involved. Maybe pay some child support. But there’s no reason for anything more.”

He sighs heavily through his nose, giving you another of those unimpressed looks. “You’re tellin’ me you’d rather keep living on your own? Take care of yourself and my baby all on your own?”

You brows furrow. “My baby.”

“Our baby.”

“Whatever,” you huff, moving to sit in one of the chairs, slumping back. “I can’t move in with you. Just because we… slept together, once, doesn’t mean you can just boss me around like a minon.”

 “Oh, it was more than once, love,” he corrects, voice pitching lower. You force down a shiver, cheeks heating again. “And is it really bossing you around if it’s for the best?”

You shoot him your own unimpressed look. “Yes, of course it is.”

He shrugs, turning back to his computer. “Then I guess I am bossing you around. Regardless, Simon will have your belongings in one of my properties by tonight.”

You scowl, leaning forward enough to plant a hand on his desk. “Listen, John, I have a life. A perfectly nice apartment, a job I like, friends - you can’t just take me away from all of that just because we made a mistake!”

The quick glance he shoots you verges on scolding. “That’s exactly what I can do, and it’s exactly what I will do.”

He stands before you can reply, fixing his cuffs as he strides back to the office door.

“You can call your boss tomorrow to turn in your resignation,” he says over his shoulder, tugging the door open and already walking away, winking at you just before he disappears from your sight. “You won’t be working while carrying our baby.”

You gape at the spot where he just was, palms still slick with sweat. It takes you a moment to fully grasp what he’s just said, how the entire conversation has gone, but when you do you’re enraged.

“John!” You shout, storming after him, leaving the pregnancy tests behind. “Get back here, you insane man! That’s absolutely not happening!”

The sound of his low laugh echoing through the stairwell only pisses you off more. Your scowl feels etched into your face, and as you storm after John you vow to keep him from completely steam rolling your life.

If he thinks he’s going to just pluck you from your life and drop you in his with no fight, he’s got another thing coming. 

#i just googled “fallen woman” btw so i really hope i got the meaning right lmfao #and then i just kinda like. half ignored it. work with me anon 🙏 #price x reader #john price x reader #john price #cod #call of duty #1k celebration #bo writes #bet you thought i forgot about these #WRONG!!!!!! #btw i fucking WRESTLED with this one like omg it took me so fucking long for no reason! and it's not even that good! ugh!

[bananacockatiel]

My constant attraction to hot men who can kill me never disappoints

#another sketch that got out of hand #omg noo Vere dont kill me haha ur so sexy #kinning the skull avtually #im the skull only hopefully not dead and long decomposed #it’s not my fault they make the sexiest cuntiest characters homicidal #touchstarvedgame #touchstarved game #touchstarved vere #vere touchstarved #touchstarved leander #touchstarved ais #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved kuras #reg.art! #touchstarved

[simplyavatrice]

alba.baptista via instagram - 10/29/2023

#alba baptista #avatrice #warrior nun #ava silva #legit the rush of excitement i got when my friend told me there were new pics of her omg #she looks so GOOD #and the one with her pup? #ughhh #i have missed her #her hair is so long now #wowowow <3

[maliciousalice]

Gotta keep that command structure intact!

#art #my art #Janeway #Kathryn Janeway #Startrek Voyager #ST: Voy #ST: Voyager #Captain Janeway #Startrek #Animatic #Chakotay #Janeway/Chakotay #heheh LOOK I THINK ITS DONE I DID WHAT I SET OUT TO DO #I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT #I heard the demoman line and i was like omg herrrrr #storyboard #this was supposed to be for practice but it took me so long i hate my braiiiinnnn #Janeway be like hahaha GOT HIMmm

[pr]

#bc like ok my best friends sister got engaged after ONE AND A HALF YEARS and i was like thats so fast and everyones like no it isnt??? #and then theres a coworker who has been dating his girlfriend for 4 years and everyone is razzing him like omg why are you not engaged #why are you waiting so long??? and i literally got engaged 6 years into my relationship after living with him for 4 years and feel like #THAT is an adequate amount of time to know whether you want to be with someone forever??? like how tf do you know with less than 5 years #in a relationship??? am i crazy??? #op

[ballpitwitch]

𝐅𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘵𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘞𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 #𝘒𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘶𝘙𝘦𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘴. 👀 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 @𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘶𝘮 — 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

#*tucks hair behind his ear* #Keanu Reeves #* #kreevesedit #keanuedit #boyfriend shaped #that's a long boi #i love him your honor #can believe i was face to face with this man 48 hours ago #people who don't like gray hair are weak #keke do you need a hair tie babe i got you #a hair tie claw clip barrette butterfly clip one of those big ones that looks like a flower #STOP BEING SO CUTE I MUST REST OLD MAN #hands so big they could hold two ankles at once #omg who said that #why so cozy boyfriend coded #it's the backwards hat #and the cuffed jeans #and ya know him #i'm afraid i've gotten worse #SMILEY BOY #me 5'4": i will pick him up #and i will fail but maybe he can like pick up one of his slenderman limbs and pretend to hype me up

[walnutmistjamie]

@giftober 2023 Day 14: Reunion

#giftober2023 #tedlassogif #jamie tartt #ted lasso #sam obisanya #dani rojas #coach beard #nathan shelley #*mine: gifs #it took so long to find an idea for this prompt omg #but you know how much i love this scene so i'm glad i got an excuse to make this gifset