#there was still this grey haze over everything

[krys-does-art-stuff]

WIPs for coloring on the previous post.

November 2023

#krys draws fanart #ikemen sengoku #ikesen oc #mitsunari ishida #houki of jiyel #nobunaga oda #digital stuff #nov 2023 #2023 #probably should have scanned this #as when I tried to use the extracting lines in firealpaca #there was still this grey haze over everything #thus making something hard to separate and erase lines that I don't want #as it would appear white and not cohesive #le sigh #oh well #lesson learned #really like the soft shading on houki tho #that's real pretty

[starshipsofstarlord]

lap girl (3)

summary. there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵

warnings. smut, unprotected sex, handjob, cursing, fluff

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

prison

Her hips jolted in adjustment atop of his own, driving his cock deeper within the depths of her arousal glazed cervix, pulling a long drawn moan out from Daryl’s parted lips, as his eyelids fluttered in an abyss of euphoric peace. It was all he needed, to be within her, to feel her perfectly close, and he hadn’t needed to drive a hard bargain to have her crawling wantonly on his lap. Y/n’s fingers wove in his hair that had grown since the survivors of Woodbury had amounted to the numbers of the prison, relieving the stress that Daryl felt to provide for the increased population.

She was stressed too, working her ass off as she watched Rick potter about in his little farm, almost oblivious to the subsequent efforts the rest of them strived through to salvage supplies - he needed a rest though after everything, and this was y/n and Daryl’s own substitute of that. Their lips messily moulded together, drinking up the others escaping sounds, neither of them wanted to attract any peepers to their intimacy which was hard to come by with the afflicting chores that had to be completed.

“Ya feel so good girl.” At the sound of his gruff voice, y/n mewled lightly, burying her rolling-eyed face in his shoulder, as she wiggled insistingly against his lazy thrusts. It was midday, however despite that they were fuelled with the weakness of exhaustion, using the last of the energy that they had reserved for one another. “Thatta girl.” Daryl placed his large and rough hands on her hips, moving her in unison with his sloppy thrusts that somehow managed to hit the perfect spot even with his tired exterior.

“Dar-“ a yelp stifled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth to block it from reaching any passing ears, as she chose to bite lightly on his still clothed shoulder, scratching lightly at his leather vest in sexual distress; her peak was coming closer and closer with each passing second, and so Daryl leaned back against the wall in their cell that was their escape from everything outside, and brushed his tingling fingertips against her angelic face. “I love you.” Her confession that had been spoken many times before came out as a whisper, as his heavy lidded eyes met her watery orbs.

“Love ya more sunshine.” Daryl muttered, his breath hitting her lips as he raised his hips so that it was easier to increase the pace in which his cock was moving inside of her, his head resting against the grey bricks that supported his position. “Gonna have ta pull outta ya soon.” He reminded her, watching y/n screw her face up at the concept, however it was the safest option considering Glenn and Maggie had used up the supply in the stores that were nearby to their location. “Ya gonna cum first girl, don’ ya worry.”

To emphasise his point, he reached his hand down so that the pad of his thumb was swirling disoriented circles around her clit, and y/n all but launched herself at him as she passionately joined their lips again, muffled moans spilling out occasionally for their lack of required air. “Fuck- I’m, I’m gonna-“ She had no time to finish her sentence as she threw her head back as a reaction from the rush that flowed intensely throughout her body, and Daryl leaned tentatively forward, chasing her lips, as he lifted her a little so he could pull out from her sweet cunt.

As soon as he did so, y/n in her fucked out haze grabbed his erection that was covered in her essence in her hand, stroking him at a desperate pace, biting his lip to catch the tracker off guard. “Shit.” Daryl closed his lustful blue eyes as his face became slack, all of the sensations that he was experiencing driving him wild. It wasn’t long before he came, spilling his seed across the expanse of y/n’s naked thigh, and he could finally catch his breath. “Ya jus’ can’t get ‘nough, I swear.” There was a dopey smile on his face, one that he reserved solely for his girl, and he caressed the back of her neck, before pulling her closer, until she was once again on his lap.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fic #twd smut #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus smut #twd x reader #twd x you #twd imagine

[lovebugism]

blurbcember request! : missing their loved ones when everyone else spends time with theirs w either Steve or Eddie x reader <3

thank u for requesting angel!! — you spend the holidays with the munsons after losing everything at the battle of starcourt (established relationship, hurt/comfort, tw for mentions of grief and panic attacks, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

It hits you out of nowhere. The weight of unimaginable grief.

You’re on Eddie’s couch one moment, laughing into the hot cocoa he made you — and the next, it’s 1985 and you’re at Starcourt all over again. 

You can smell the ash as the mall burns to the ground and feel the evening mist soak your skin until your clothes stick to you. Your throat burns with the ghost of the scream you let out when the soldiers told you your dad died. 

You didn’t react. Not at first. You figured it must’ve been a mistake. That’s what you told them — you’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong. You repeated those words until they turned to sobs. 

Steve took you in his arms before you fell to the ground. Then you screamed. You don’t think you stopped screaming until your body shut down from the exhaustion.

You feel like that all over again. Five months later and you haven’t stopped reliving it.

Eddie knows. He can see all of it. You’re as bright as sunshine one second, then as grey as rain the next. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened to you — what really happened to your father or why you were at Starcourt in the first place — but he can tell it did a number on you.

He tries hopelessly to make it better. “You alright?” he mutters to you. His arm around your shoulder tightens to keep you from straying any further. His ringed fingers squeeze gently at your arm, and you remember where you are. 

You blink until the haze fades and nod on instinct. It’s muscle memory now. What could he do if you were honest? you wonder to yourself. What would it change?

“Is it the hot cocoa?” he asks, even though he knows that’s not really the problem. He wants to bring the light back to your eyes, maybe, or just get you to talk at all. “I made it with water this time instead of milk. Do you want me to—”

“No. It’s okay,” you interject quickly, voice meek and taut.

“Okay…” Eddie wavers and tries to settle back onto the couch. It’s hard to because he’s so tense now. He’s rigid with the knowledge that something’s wrong — with the heartache of not knowing how to help you.

You curse yourself when the tears come on.

They burn the very backs of your eyes, stinging like falling ash from burning flames. You can smell the smoking brick and the blood and the cologne of the Russian soldier that nearly killed you. You’re on Eddie’s couch, but you’re back there at the same time. 

You know you shouldn’t be crying, but you don’t know how to make yourself stop.

You blink hopelessly at the ceiling and pray that your blurry vision will clear before the tears spill over. Then you start to sniffle, and your emotion becomes rather obvious. You don’t want to cry. Not in front of everyone. Not in front of Eddie.

“Can I— uh— can I use your bathroom?” you stammer, trying to sound halfway normal even though the words come out coated with wet emotion. You’re looking ahead of you instead of over at Eddie — ‘cause you know he’d see right through you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he answers, a little confused because you stopped having to ask a long time ago. 

He wants to ask you what’s wrong, but you’re gone before he can. His cold hands curl around his warming cocoa, fidgeting because they don’t know how to do anything but hold you.

You sit on the lid of the toilet seat and run the faucet while you cry. You bury your face in your palms, rocking back and forth in a feeble attempt to comfort yourself because you’re still learning how to do that on your own.

You’re so used to calling your dad the second something goes wrong. You don’t know who you’re supposed to lean on now. Eddie, maybe — but who are you to put that weight on him? He’d carry it no problem, but the burden shouldn’t be his. 

You just wish you knew where to put it, all this grief you have. 

For now, you bury it with the tears you pour into your palms. When you manage to coax yourself to stop crying and get your panicked breathing back to normal — in for 4 counts, hold for 7, out for 8 — you flush and wash your hands like you were doing anything but breaking down in Eddie’s bathroom.

You can’t get anything by him, though. Literally. ‘Cause you nearly run into him when you leave.

He’s idling awkwardly outside the door, looking almost as surprised to see you as you are to see him. Chocolate eyes wide, pink mouth softly agape, bushy brows raised beneath his curly bangs. “Shit— Sorry—” he stammers.

You sniffle and hope you don’t look like you’ve been crying too hard. “What are you— What are you doing?” you ask, voice weighed down with leftover emotion.

“Nothing. You just— you looked a little upset, and I wanted to check on you,” he shrugs, trying to play it cool. Then he gets awkward and cowers. “And I was gonna knock, but… then I got… nervous.”

You’d fake a laugh if you thought it wouldn’t take all the strength you have left. Instead, you shrug and pretend like everything’s still normal. Pretending is all you have now, anyway.

“I’m fine.”

He knows you’re lying. You always look down at your feet before you lie. Your eyes are swollen and glassy, too. You’re obviously everything but fine, but he doesn’t want to press the issue too much. He doesn’t want to make the unknown any worse.

So, in lieu of a thousand things he could say, he asks you — “Wanna smoke?”

You don’t smoke. He just doesn’t know how else to get you alone like he wants. 

You nod because you know he’s trying. 

His racing heart settles a little.

You end up on the edge of his childhood bed while he finishes off a joint. The scent is a comforting one — slightly skunky, but mostly of Eddie’s sweet cologne. He lies on his back while you sit above him, knees curled behind you with an arm beside you to prop up your weight. 

His chestnut curls are sprawled out along the plain grey sheets. His eyelids are heavy, gaze as dark as melted chocolate. His lips are rosy, and so are his cheeks after a couple hits. He looks a little like a Renaissance painting.

Eddie, meanwhile, is still stewing in his worry of you. He’s happy to sit in silence, though. Mostly because he knows you don’t mind it, either.

“How do you always know?” you blurt before you mean to.

He grows suddenly alert at your question. “Know what?”

You shrink inside yourself because you hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You were so deep in your thoughts you were practically drowning in them — swimming in oceans of grief and love and everything in between. 

You’re lucky you found Eddie when you did. Luckier ‘cause he always knows how to handle the mystically delicate being you are. You don’t know how he does it.

You stammer for an answer. “When I’m… I didn’t know… When I’m—”

“Sad?” Eddie finishes for you.

Both of you know it’s deeper than that, but you nod anyway. “Yeah…”

He shrugs lazily. “I don’t know… I just have a sense for it, I guess.”

“Like Spiderman?” you tease softly, a quiet smile hinting at the corners of your lips. Your nails scratch gently at his scalp. He leans into your touch like a cat.

Eddie grins wider, happy to see you happy. “Exactly like Spiderman.”

“Wow… I can’t believe my boyfriend has superpowers.”

“Well, you better believe it, baby. ‘Cause I know every-thing that’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

Your hand stills and your eyes go wide. You don’t want Eddie in your head. It’s too messy in there. How will he still love you if he knows all the darkest parts of you?

“That’s a scary thought,” you say, trying your best to laugh it off. 

“Doesn’t have to be,” he assures in a voice so soft you could cry. His palm is warm as it rises to smooth across your jaw, ringed fingers calloused and gentle on your cheek. “It’s not easy for you to tell me what’s going on a lot of the time, right? So I gotta use my super cool mind-reading powers to take care of my girl, you know?”

You love him so much you could cry. You don’t want to cry, though. You’re far too happy for that. 

You don’t realize how big you’re smiling until Eddie smiles back at you. 

“See?” he singsongs to you with a pink grin on his lips. “Not so scary, huh?”

“You make everything not so scary,” you insist quietly, your smile even quieter. “Like a teddy bear.”

Eddie beams at your words. If he can make all the bad things he can’t see not so bad for you, he’ll wear the title of Teddy Bear with pride.

His arms curl around you in a flash, dragging you down to the mattress so he can wrap you in a smothering hug. You squeal a laugh into his shoulder. You forget to be sad.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

[l0vergirlv0mit]

Bags

Song to go with: Bag by Clairo ❤️

Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x Reader

Summary: you’ve been in love with your best friend for years. Watching her date people sucks especially when one of the absolutely despises you.

Contents/warning: Switch!Hazel x Switch!Reader, fingering, oral, pet names, nipple play, cursing, threats, light? violence (nothing gory), sm yearning.

A/n: for the dorm imagine Buffy and willows dorm from btvs<3. Also reader isn’t fem but also isn’t masc but is definitely masc leaning. for my in between girlies 😘.

You alarm clock rudely wakes you up with an incessant buzz. Hitting it a bit to hard it falls off your night stand making you groan into the sunlit room. You sit up with squinted eyes not noticing that Hazel was still in the dorm. “Well good morning sleepy head.” She smiles at your groggy state.

You wake up just enough to snatch the alarm clock of the ground and punch it off. “Ughhh good morning.” Your eyes finally adjust to the light fully taking Hazel in. She was still in her pjs wearing a white wife pleaser and low waisted grey sweats. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now?” You ask her confused as to why she was skipping her morning class.

“I should but Anya had me up till 2.” She clasps her hands around the back of her neck. She still had her tired raspy voice probably having woken up a couple minutes before you. “Oh god spare me.” Suppressing an eye roll you got up from the bed and grabbed your towel, getting ready to go to the showers. Anya pissed you off to no end.

And it wasn’t because she was dating the person you wanted more than anything (maybe a little bit). It was her glares and her back handed compliments that she gave you any chance she could. How she would snap at people over anything and everything she was extremely abrasive.

Your friends tried to explain that that was just her personality but you didn’t function like that you were quiet and sweet. Both didn’t mix well so she tended to single you out. Always trying to push you out of your comfort zone by teasing and getting a rise out of you. You can barley ask a waiter for ketchup let alone defend yourself. But you refuse to tell Hazel about her behavior because she was happy. She was so sweet to Hazel and that made you most livid.

“Not like that y/n we went out for our 4 months.” She grinned at your scrunched face. “How fun nothing says I love you like sleep deprivation.” She raises her eyebrows at your grouchy mood with a soft smile still on her lips.

“Oh wow someone’s moody, anyway Josie was texting the group chat about a going to the bar tonight are you gonna come?” Hazel asks you hoping you’d say yes because you never go out. “Mmm I’ll think about it Haze Ill probably have a lot of work to do.” Hazel sighs. “Pleaseeee you never come out with us anymore.” She give you a pleading look. “I have a lot of today I’ll let you know if I’m up for it.” You giggle at her childish tone and pat her shoulder then leave the dorm.

—

You let Hazel know you were coming and put your phone down and change out of your work clothes. Your style has always been a bit more grungy and masculine only really dressing a bit feminine for special events or outings.

You put on your favorite baggy black jeans that hung off your hips so beautifully. Then put on a spaghetti strap tank top and a long sleeve over it made of black mesh and lace that was completely see through. You left your hair messy and smudged black shadow and liner on your eyes. Finishing off your outfit by putting on your black docs.

Hazel was already with the group so you drove yourself to Josie, PJ, and Isabel’s shared apartment. You found your way to the apartment door knocking timidly. You rock back and forth on your feet waiting for someone to open the door.

When someone finally does it’s her. She doesn’t talk to you directly. “Y/n is here now guys can we finally leave?” She says not letting you in yet talking to YOUR friends behind the door.

Hazel quickly comes to the door and smiles brightly at you pulling you in by your hand . “Oh wow someone’s trying to get lucky tonight.” Hazel softly says nudging you. This earns you a glare from Anya.

The group sits in the living room area to catch up before heading out. Everyone’s talking but your mind is elsewhere. You’ve always been the quieter one of the group so your lack of conversation goes unnoticed.

You can’t help but stare at Hazel and Anya. A deep grief blooms in your chest. Hazels arm around Anya protectively. Anya tucks a piece of hair behind Hazels ear and kissed her on the cheek. Hazels face becomes so soft and loving it tears you apart wishing so bad that you were Anya. Hazels hand travels to her waist to pull her closer just to top it off.

You look at Anya for a bit taking in how perfect and pretty she is. She’s so feminine and put together. She was everything you would never be. She had on a full face of makeup that was perfectly done and a dress that hugged in all the right spots. She was an absolutely gorgeous girl.

You were only pulled out of this haze by Josie putting her hand on your knee. Knowing exactly what was going through your mind. You had drunkenly told her about your 2 year long crush on Hazel in a club bathroom. You look back at her with glazed over eyes and squeeze her hand as a silent thank you.

“Are you guys ready to get wasted cause I am.” Josie announced and pulled you up with her off the couch. She looks to you and smiles trying to change the mood that’s setting in. You smile back but felt suffocated anyway and had to leave. Everyone excitedly agrees and heads over the bar.

—

This bar was THE bar all the college kids go there to find hookups and get drunk. The group gets drinks to loosen up but you decide to hold off for tonight. You let your friends make you dance their tipsy state amusing you. You move timidly at first but the encouragement from your friends has you swaying to the music.

You danced with Britney trying to absorb her confidence in some way. When Hazel comes over to playfully dance with you twirling you around and giggling. She saw your shyness and was trying to remedy it.

She made you sway with her hands on your waist. It was all friendly and playful and you were best friends so it wasn’t unusual behavior.

Nonetheless you felt your face get warmer at her proximity. Anya was staring from the bar after telling Hazel she didn’t feel like dancing. Anya really thought Hazel was just going to sit there and watch all of her friends dance instead.

Anya quickly changed her mind though. Seeing you too make her jealous. Hopping out of her seat and waltzing over to shove you away from Hazel with feigned innocence. Hazel mouths sorry towards you and it was your turn to go to the bar and watch from a far. You get yourself a coke to sip on since you would be driving later, not much of a drinker anyway.

You sit there mindlessly scrolling your phone trying to keep yourself occupied. Watching them still it hurts your chest. Hazel holds Anya close she has her face in the crook of her neck holding her from behind. It was a real sight. Especially when Hazel looked so good. Her cropped white tee and baggy jeans left just enough midriff exposed to mesmerize you.

Josie comes to sit besides you breaking your trance. “I hate her.” Is all she says and she looks from Anya to you. “Me too.” You both laugh together. “Yeah she’s kind of a bitch isn’t she.” Josie remarks pressing her lips together and furrowing her brows.

“Yeah she’s something.” You huffed and smiled brighter grateful for your friendship .That’s when Josie gets a certain look that you know to well. “You wanna smoke?” She flashes you a wide grin and wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh god yes.” You take one last sip of your coke and follow her outside.

—

You and Josie walk back into the bar in a hazy giggle. After a shit talking session that had you loosing your shit and gasping at gossip. You go to dance again and you notice Anya arguing with Hazel.

Anya rolled her eyes and says something that made Hazels face contort into hurt. Hazel says something in a pout then storms off in the other direction. “Jesus they do this shit every fucking night bro.” Josie rolls her eyes following Hazel to the bathroom. Every night? You though to yourself. You were under the impression everything was great?

The anger taking over your body doesn’t let you ponder over it more. Body moving without you telling it too, you yank her shoulder to face you. She was taller than you and definitely stronger then you but you didn’t care. The face Hazel made at Anya was enough motivation. You could’ve fought 10 frat boys and won.

“Hey! What did you say to her.” You could stand her being mean to you but being mean Hazel was absolutely not allowed. “I don’t think that’s any of your business y/n.”

She looks you up and down. “I suggest you fuck off before I tell her your little secret.” She gets closer to you only inches from your face. “What do you mean secret?” You started getting nervous. She grabs your face in her hand and looks in your scared eyes. “Your in love with her. It’s pathetic really the way you gawk at her.” Her acrylics are digging into your cheeks. Frantically staring at her in disbelief.

“Start keeping your distance y/n, Im not worried about you im just annoyed that you THINK that could happen. Like she’d ever be into someone like you.”

She let’s go of your face lightly tapping it. You feel tears fill your eyes about to break the barrier of your water line. “I-i… f-fuck you Anya.” Tears cascade down your face. Anya just vocalized your internal thoughts for the past 2 years now your sure she’s some demon from hell that crawled out to make your life miserable.

Just as Hazel and Josie come out of the bathroom they see you walk quickly out of the bar. Hazel feels completely exhausted, this was supposed to be a fun night you FINALLY agreed to have fun and hang out again.

Hazel follows you out just catching up to you when you get to the door of your car. “Y/n! Wait! Please, where are you going it’s barley been an hour?” She looks at you confused eye brows pushed together and hands on her hips. “I’m tired Hazel.” You can’t face her you can’t stop the tears rolling down.

You open the door but Hazel puts a firm hand down closing it again getting frustrated at your short response. You finally look her in the eyes and she takes you in. “Holy shit y/n are you ok?” She goes to put a hand on your shoulder but you flinch. Her face becomes even more worried than before. Staring at the streaks running down your cheeks.

“Please Hazel I just wanna go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow ok.” Hazel moves her hand from the door and lets you open it. “We will talk about this tomorrow?” She ask you to get more confirmation. “We will.” You reassured her knowing talking was the last thing you were gonna do.

You drove back to your dorm still feeling shocks of fear pulse through you at the thought of Hazel knowing you were completely in love with her. Losing her would do more than wreck you. She’s been your best friend for what felt like forever.

Finally inside your dorm you rip your clothes off and put you pjs on as fast as you could. You didn’t bother to take your make up off and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Thank god for the weed.

—

Your woken up by the jiggling of keys. You turn to look at the time and you way overslept. “Oh your up.” She closes the door lightly walking over to your bed. She puts a brown paper on your nightstand and smiled softly at you. “I got you a bagel from the place we like, I made sure they put extra cheese and hash browns. And I got you salsa.” The same sadness you felt the night before washed over you. Her sweetness makes you fall apart in more ways then one.

“Thanks Hazel.” You can only produce a small awkward smile. “Do you wanna talk about last night?” She carefully sat next to you and put her hand on your back, rubbing up and down. “I’m ok Hazel, really it’s fine.” You brush her off.

“I can’t help you if you push me away y/n. You’ve been really distant recently I’m worried. I-i mean did I do something?” She spoke softly and looked at your face silently begging for you to look her in the eyes instead of the floor.

But you can’t you start to cry before you can even get a word out. “No you didn’t do anything I’m sorry. Last night Anya was just really mean. Well she’s mean every time I’m around her but I-I’m sorry.” You spoke through tears and hiccups not even knowing even know why you were saying sorry. Regretting everything you just said. You knew Anya was going to tell her—everything was going to be ripped away from you.

Hazels face contorted into anger and shock. You were petrified that you had made her angry at you. “Anya did this.” Her tone was steady and dark. You nodded. Her jaw was clenched and her fist balled breathing heavily. She grabs her keys and opens the door. “I’ll be back in 30 minutes.” She shut the door behind her harder than she meant too. She quite literally couldn’t control her anger. She liked Anya, a lot actually, but the fighting has gotten to much. Hazel could handle a bit of sass from her here and there. But knowing she hurt you had Hazel enraged.

—

It had been 45 minutes of you sitting there bouncing your leg. Shaking anticipating the consequences of your breakdown. You tried watching a movie to get your mind off of your situation but you couldn’t focus. The bagel on your nightstand making you nauseous just by being there. Frustrated tears forcing there way up every once in a while.

You hear the knob jiggle and keys. Your immediately alerted. Hazel calmly walks through the door and moves to where you’ve come to stand infront of your bed. She takes your face into her soft hands pulling you into the deepest kiss you’ve ever had. When she finally lets you catch your breath she looks in your watery eyes .

“Why did you never tell me.” She whispers looking over your post cry face. Your lips puffy and pink frustrated cheeks. You notice that her lip is busted and she has a mark on her cheek that is definitely going to turn into a bruise. “Y-you aren’t angry? Are you ok?” You started to tear up again from the relief.

“No baby i could never be angry at you. And I’m fine just thought I should put what I’ve learned in my boxing class to use.” As she’s wiping your tears way, your remember, her and Anya took the same boxing class; thats actually how they met. Hazel looked angry but you didn’t think she was THAT angry. “I didn’t think you thought I was pretty.” She pulls you closer to her. “What! Why is that?” She questioned from the crook of your neck. “Cause you date girls like Anya I didn’t think I was your type.”

Hazel suddenly starts placing kisses on your neck. She realizes she has you turning into putty in her hands, like she always wanted. Everything about you was captivating to her in this moment. The way you smelled, the way your skin felt, how she could hear your breathing pick up with every kiss.

Your heart was racing you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Your not gonna have to worry about Anya anymore honey, I promise. Your the only girl I want. And your sooo my type.” Hazel sucks a bruise with no warning into your neck and licks over it. “Oh my god Hazel please.” Your hand reaches up into her hair your fingers tangled in her silky brown tresses. “Please what baby?”

Your face got impossibly redder whole body on fire unsure of how to answer her. Feeling the way Hazels hands roamed you made your head spin. You just couldn’t take it anymore pulling her up lightly by the hair to have her look at you.

“I need you.”

You make sure you say it clearly. Hazels eyes become more lidded than before overcome with lust. She pushed you backwards towards her bed until you fall into her sheets.

“Y-your so beautiful.” Shes stammering seeing you laid out in HER bed. She connects your lips again teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance.

You want to make her feel as good as she’s making you feel. Her knee comes between your legs giving you relief from pulsing heart beat that’s developed.

Your grinding on each other urgently. Years of pent up sexual frustration and longing being released.

You try to keep up with her kisses the best you can. The friction making you lose control. Completely entangled in each other, hands trying to feel every part of her.

Exchanging heavy breaths and soft whimpers. It was frenzied and sloppy it was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

You tug her shirt over her head. She does the same for your exposing your bare chest. “Fuck.” Her brows pushing together as she feels her arousal pooling in her boxers. She can’t help but gently thumb your hard nipple trailing kisses from your collar bone to your breast.

She took the soft flesh into her mouth leaving hot kisses. Her hand massaged the other. Her lips wrapped around your nipple and released it with a pop. You let out a strained moan.

Her hand traveled to the waist band of your pajamas pants. Teasing you with her fingers moving back and forth under the fabric.

“Can I take these off.” She ask you her eyes begging you to say yes, desperate to see all of you. “Please” You nodded and she gently undressed you leaving your skin vulnerable to cool air for your dorm.

It doesn’t matter though, because Hazels warm body is pressed to you in a second. Her hand trails from your breast to your hip slowly, keeping your attention.

“Do you know how long Ive wanted you?” You shake your head, voice escaping you in the moment. Her finger slides through your folds, your wetness sending waves of pleasure and confidence through her. The sound alone made her ache.

“Way to fucking long.” She slips a finger in your soaked needy hole. You let out an open mouthed exhale. She slips in another finger. “Fuck! Mm-n!”

Her fingers stretched you out and the sensation was mind numbing. An endless repeat hazelhazelhazelhazel. Was all you could think about. Her fingers curled at a slow pace hitting just the right spot. Working your clit with her thumb at the same time.

“Im I making you feel good honey?” Her voice was gentle and attentive. The way she was grinding down on your thigh mixed with your pretty noises was making her go insane. Your moans start to get more frequent. As you were embarrassingly close to release so soon. “S-so good Hazel.”

“Talk to me sweetheart. This is all mine now right?” Hazel questions you her pace picking up and mouthing your tits. “All yours all yours all yours all…” You mumbled to her as your eyes flutter. “That’s right honey.” She kept a rough tempo leaving marks on your chest until you were finally coming undone under her.

Shes watches as your orgasm possesses you. Moaning her name as you arch your back grinding yourself against her fingers. “Yeah honey just like that cum for me baby.” She doesn’t stop till your squirming from overstimulation.

You catch your breath for a second before becoming focused. You didn’t want your fatigue from your orgasm to keep you from pleasing her. Hazels already pulling you into another deep kiss like before.

“I want to make you feel good now Hazel.” She seemed a little shocked. As you think about the girls she’s hooked up that’s probably not the kind of treatment she was used too.

“You don’t have to y/n, making you cum is pleasure enough.” She seemed almost nervous. You shake your head and take her hand placing the two fingers that were just fucking deep inside of you into your mouth.

Releasing them with a pop. Her eyes are droopy and mouth slightly open. Her chest breathing deeply overwhelmed with lust. “No Hazel. I really want to make you feel good.”

Hazels ripping off her sports bra without another word. You nudge her shoulder down and straddle her. She’s frantically trying to take her sweats and boxers off. You help her rip them off and throw them across the room.

The sight is beautiful she’s completely soak, all you want is to have your face between her thighs. “Can I taste you?” You ask coyly as your hands rub up and down the tops of her thighs, your words going straight to her core. “Fuck, y-yeah, yes p-please—I mean.”

You settle between her thighs leaving light kisses on her inner thighs. Hazels having a hard time keeping still with you so close to where she needed you.

You look up into her eyes through your lashes as your breath fans over her soaked cunt. She lets out a whimper on accident and it set her body on fire with embarrassment.

Finally you lick a broad stripe. Hazel sign in relief. Her fingers pulling at your roots. Your hands are hooked over her thighs keeping them apart. Tongue flicking over her clit at a pace YOU didn’t even know was possible.

Hazel eased into the feeling of being taken care of. She’s switching between look you in the eyes and looking at the ceiling when the shyness become too much. She quietly took in the sensation of being taken care of before speaking trying to get rid of the shyness.

“I’ve thought about you like this s-so many nights.” Hazel mumbles out between whimpers. You push your finger into her curling. “Yeah?” You question quickly. She throws her head back when you go back to sucking on her clit.

You add another finger. Pace becoming quicker and deeper. “I always imagined this,oh god,h-happening during one of our movie nights.” You hum into her creating a whole new sensation as her legs start to quake. “I th-thought youd take the hint. Oh god don’t stop.”

She let out a soft laugh until the knot in her stomach was becoming to much to handle. “I mean we c-cuddled for like 3 hours at a time! Shitshitshit!” Hazels grip on your hair became tight as her eyes rolled back, letting out a loud moan. The knot in her stomach snapping as the white hot feeling flushes over her.

You watch her in awe. Her chest heaving as she grinds into you her other hand gripping the headboard showing her toned tricep.

You help her fully ride out her orgasm then pull away to use your shirt to clean yourself in and lay next to her gently.

Hazel turns to look at you with a tired smile spreading across her face. She cups your cheek once more kissing your forehead. “I thought it would end like this too.” She says to you quietly. “Me too.” You reply going to kiss the tip of her nose. She looks into your eyes for a moment thinking.

Her eyebrows push together as a though crosses her mind. “Did you ever eat the bagel?” You laugh at her genuinely concerned question and pull her into an embrace, warm bodies lovingly entwined. “No I actually thought I was dying though in my defense.” Hazel pouts at you.

“Did you beat up Anya?” You question her instead. “I tried to but she honestly kicked my ass sooo bad, like embarrassing I’m so happy you weren’t there” You laughed at this too.

“I looked cool though right?” She dropped her voice dramatically. “Oh yeah sooo cool.” She gasped at your sarcasm.

When your both of yours laughter dies down it’s seems both of you have the same realization that your best friend was now your girlfriend. Eyes saying what they needed too.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked quietly. “Only after you eat cause a $12 bagel on a college student budget is atrocious.” She kissed your forehead and nudged you to get up.

(Thank you for reading😙)

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you

[halcyonwrld]

— A LATE BREAKFAST

PAIRING. Jennie Kim x Reader

With a big test coming up, you and your girlfriend make a bet to see who can stay awake the longest during your study date. Ultimately, you win. This is a brief glimpse of the cozy morning afternoon that follows. (1.3K)

TAGS. college!au, just some good ol’ domestic fluff, a suggestive mention or two, playful mention of suffocating 💀

Waking up feels like transitioning out of a daze and headfirst into a living daydream. Everything feels warm and hazy. Sunlight pours in slats through the blinds. Distantly, you register the sound of the humming air conditioner, and the soft lull of music from the apartment above you.

Being inside of these four walls brings you a feeling you can only describe as pure comfort. The kind that makes you wish you could stay in bed forever.

You yawn as you come to, sluggishly scanning your apartment.

The TV is on, paused on Netflix’s home screen.

With a groan, you stretch, careful of Kuma at the foot of the bed. The joints in your legs crack with a satisfying pop of pressure. That satisfaction is shortlived; you can’t help but grimace as you notice your arm is trapped.

Jennie snores softly against your shoulder, blissfully unaware of your predicament at the moment. Your girlfriend is practically on her stomach with the way she’s curled into you, black hair mussed wildly about on her forehead, arms contorted in such an awkward way you wonder how she’s sleeping so peacefully.

She’s lucky she’s cute.

You try to pull your arm, but no give. And an annoying blunt something is digging into your waist.

Turning fully onto your side, you blindly fumble with your hand underneath the sheets. You realize it’s your phone as soon as you get ahold of it.

Turning it on— your eyes widen: it’s nearly 2 in the afternoon! You can’t believe you’ve actually slept the entire morning away. Again.

It takes you mumbling her name at least three times before Jennie begins to rouse from her sleep. (Though, you think it's your weak movements attempting to free your arm that truly wakes her.)

She squints at the light, immediately screwing her eyes shut. Then, she loops an arm around your waist and nuzzles into your chest. “Five more minutes…” she murmurs, the ghost of her lips tickling your sternum.

“Jen…” you warn.

Like a child, she whines an indignant noise, burrowing further into your warmth.

You roll your eyes before you press a patient kiss to the top of her head. Your stomach grumbles; of course she smells like blueberries, of course.

“You… you know that you fell asleep first, right?” you murmur through a yawn, teasing despite the sleepy haze that still has a grip on you both.

"Mmm, no I didn't,” she rasps, lying straight through her teeth, “you fell asleep before me, but-"

"But nothing- unless… you have proof that I don’t?”

She goes quiet at that.

Too quiet.

"Babe… you're gonna fall asleep in five more minutes, and-” You huff, yanking your arm from underneath her. Tingles shoot down to your cold fingertips as the blood begins to flow back into your veins. “I need to piss."

Jennie groans. "Just hold it."

You scoff, pushing her away by the forehead. "How about I suffocate you instead?"

"Ugh… fine.”

Jennie rolls onto her back, allowing you to move. She cocoons herself in the sheets to the neck after you stand. Watches you with puffy, low eyes as you round the bed.

“Delete the photos… I know you have so many terrible pictures.”

You scoop up a random shirt from the floor, sending her a lovesick smile when your head pops out of the top. “Babe, please… you’re the most photogenic person I know.”

“Blegh,” she complains, face scrunched as she tugs your pillow over her head, “Too cheesy.”

You giggle as you make your way to the bathroom.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"Jagiya…"

You hum at the term of endearment, glancing at your girl as you tug on a random pair of grey sweatpants, foamy toothbrush stuck to your jaw.

Jennie looks far more awake. In the time you’ve spent in the bathroom, she’s propped a pillow underneath her head, and found her phone. The sheets have slipped just below her collarbones, revealing the straps of her lace bra.

She places her phone on her stomach when you look at her, giving you her full attention. That soft stare of hers doesn't fail to give you butterflies.

"Thought you only needed the bathroom?" she asks.

You shrug. "Well, now I'm hungry."

She smirks. "No need to leave, I'm right here."

You roll your eyes and head back to the bathroom to finish up, ignoring her call of complaint.

"Since we missed breakfast, m’gonna make some. Want something specific?" you call before you turn on the shower for her, knowing she preferred to first thing in the morning.

You step out to hear her clearly, leaning your weight against the doorframe. She’s staring at herself in the ceiling mirror, rubbing an eye.

"Toast please,” she mumbles sweetly.

You hum, then collect all of your textbooks and loose papers from last night and shove them into your bag.

"What is-"

You look over.

Jennie is sitting up now, blankets bunched around her hips and a familiar paper in her hands. She smooths out a yellow sticky note, and you wince to yourself as she squints to read it, already knowing what it is.

She holds it up for you to see, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

You can barely make it out from where you’re standing, but you don't need to. You remember lazily scribbling the words ‘LOSER’ on it last night. Along with the click of your camera taking an incredible amount of pictures after sticking it to her forehead… how your drowsy laughter flooded the room as she didn't budge not once, too comfortable in your presence to once rouse from her sleep.

And yeah, maybe one of those pictures is your wallpaper right now, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

"Oh, where did that come from?” you drawl, scratching your head and glaring at the slip of paper as if you didn’t recognize it. “Weird.”

“Yeah… so weird.”

You glance around, trying to ignore the feeling of her knowing gaze burning holes into your face. Kuma scratches insistently at the door, whining. "Oh, Kuma needs to pee. Gotta go!" you rush, happy to have an out.

You swing open the door and let the canine rush out ahead of you, phone in hand as you escape Jennie’s grumbles to herself.

"Y/n!"

You pause mid-step down the hall, a suspicious squint to nothing in particular. Your girlfriend actually sounds upset. Kuma continues on without either of you, nails clicking against the floors as he jogs around the corner, not a care in the world as he races to the kitchen.

You shove your phone into your back pocket as you walk back to the room. You peek inside, blinking innocently as possible. "What?"

Steam wafts from the bathroom. Jennie is on the edge of the bed in nothing but a bra and some sweats, tying up her hair into a ponytail. The simple image of all of her beauty in a haze of golden light, is a sight that makes you swallow, hard.

She turns toward you, mischievous eyes brightening when she sees you've come back for her.

"Kiss please?" she begs in a voice you know all too well. She reaches out, expectant. Pleading with an expression that makes you a little weak in the knees.

Definitely a trap.

You’ll give her a 9/10 for effort, but you know any tricks she has up her sleeve will only prolong your day even further. Typically, you wouldn’t mind, but you’re nowhere near ready for an interrogation about the pictures you took last night, and you know she’s wondering.

You match her scheming smile, pretending to her request over. "Hm…. you can get all of the kisses you want, after you get up and brush your teeth.”

Just to be annoying, you blow one to her before you leave.

Jennie groans dramatically as you shut the door behind you.

#blackpink imagines #blackpink x reader #jennie kim x reader #jennie kim imagine #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #gg x reader #gg imagines #blackpink fanfic #halcyonfics

[ohtobeleah]

California Fornication //

One — ‘That was Jake’

Summary: When the man you’d been seeing turned out to have a wife, your world came crashing down around you. While you tried your best to move onwards and upwards, the very reason for all your recent relationship problems comes strolling into the bar.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Love Triangle x2. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin xF!reader. Question ing Morality. Angst.

Word Count: 1.9k

Author Note: Based off the first scene Mark Sloan is in. Greys Anatomy.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It always plays on repeat in your mind like a slow motion picture, like a scene in one of those old timey movies where everyone and everything slows down so that the main protagonist can understand the situation unfolding around them. 

That moment where your boyfriend of only a few months— Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, told you that he was technically married, haunted you day in and day out. Married to the woman who’d come up to the pair of you in the locker room on base after she’d been transferred to North Island. She’d come waltzing over with a confident smile and a pretty face. She knew she was about to turn your life on its axis. 

For better or worse. 

“Y/n.” It wasn’t often people actually said your name, majority of the same it was your callsign—but the way the colour drained from Bradleys face as he turned to you with a gut wrenching look smeared across his usually perfect face, had your stomach churning. “I’m so sorry—“ 

“Hi, I’m Katie Bradshaw—“ The woman, who mind you, was stunning to say the very least, stuck her hand out to shake yours. You took it gracefully, with enough conviction in your grip to not have it show you were completely blindsided by that all too familiar last name. 

“Bradshaw?” You smiled softly as you sent Rooster a confusing look. He’d never mentioned a sister or a cousin before in the few months you’d been seeing and sleeping together. 

“I’m Rooster's wife—“ Those three words would forever haunt you. “And you must be the woman who’s been screwing my husband?” 

“Hey! Siren!” It was Phoenix’s voice that broke you out of the trance you’d fallen into as you showed. Her fist slamming against the shower door three quick and consecutive times made you jump a little as the warm water encapsulated you entirely. “You coming to the Hard Deck?” 

“Yeah yeah, just give me a few minutes!” You replied as you washed your face. “I’ll meet you guys over there.” It had only been three weeks since you called it quits with the mustache having aviator who had stolen your heart. The entire situation made you feel dirty. Even if you weren’t the one in the wrong. No amount of showering could wash away the dirty feeling you’d been left with. 

What could be worse than being branded the dirty mistress? That no one told you about the cheating scandal that had rocked the Bradshaws' happy marriage about a year ago. That was worse. 

Bradley swore black and blue he was going to tell you. He’d sworn the rest of the squad to secrecy about the details too. He wanted to be the one to tell you. To tell you that you were the first woman he’d been with since he’d walked in on his wife, Katie, and his best friend, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, in bed together. 

Still, the ultimatum was given. You’d asked Bradley to pick you, choose you, love you. But when the time came to decide he chose his wife. His reasonings were none of your business nor concern. 

And so you walked away. Labelled the mistress and the interim love affair. Even against the Chester you didn’t compare—and that crushed you completely. 

“You’ve been doing that an awful lot lately.” Pennys voice broke through the haze you’d fallen into at the bar. The drink you’d ordered, Gin Sour, sat in front of you on a Hard Deck coaster. “What’s on your mind daydreamer?” 

“More like a never ending nightmare Pen.” You sighed before reaching for your drink. “This whole situation makes me feel like I need a lobotomy.” 

“Rooster still trying to force a friendship?” In truth Bradley thought he owed his marriage just one more shot. But right after you walked away he immediately started to regret his decision to choose his wife. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and all that was you. He’d made the wrong decision, but was too proud to admit it. Especially to his wife. 

He stood across the Hard Deck with a beer in his hand and his arm slung around her hip, looking at you like a puppy you’d left out in the rain. He missed you, oh so much. And that fact you hardly spoke to him these days made his heart hurt inside his chest. 

“Yeah—and I don’t think I can handle it anymore.” You admitted before taking a sip of your drink. “I’ve asked for a transfer, just to make it easier. I can’t focus, can’t sleep, because he’s just—always around.” 

“Sounds to me like you’re just running away from your problems.” Penny held her tongue as she watched the tall sandy blonde appear next to you at the bar. “That, or you know that you’re still in love with the guy and no matter what you do he’ll still manage to wiggle his way in because you’ll always allow him to.” It took you a few moments to register what the stranger beside you said as you eyed him up and down. 

“Sensitivity—“ You rolled your eyes. “I like that in a stranger.” The alcohol coursed through your body like a mild painkiller. “Are you new in town?” The civvies were an excellent camouflage against the sea of tans that flooded the Hard Deck—and Penny wasn’t about to be the one who told you the stranger you were talking to was the reason for your current situation. 

“Just visiting—“ He made sure to lie, a little white lie never hurt anyone. Or so they said. But the man beside you with the perfect smile and emerald green eyes definitely wanted to see how far he could get this conversation. “I’m confounded by all the patches and it’s only my first day in town.” He sighed softly as he sat beside you. “Budweiser please Barkeep.” Penny nodded without another word. 

“You get used to it, North Island is a Naval Base after all.” It felt like a needed explanation. The stranger beside you nodded softly as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket. 

“So I’ve heard.” A comfortable silence fell between you and the handsome stranger as he waited for his beer. “Kinda wish I’d stayed in bed, if I had known this place would be crawling with Naval Officers I wouldn’t have bothered.” Oh he knew, he knew all right. 

He knew that the Hard Deck would be packed to the rafters with the Dagger Squad and he certainly knew North Island was a Naval Base. Why? Because he was a part of that designated team. You’d just been the one who replaced him while he was tasked to special ops. Now? He was back to cause chaos. 

“Hey Rooster—“ Fanboy grabbed Bradley’s attention away from Bob. “You see who’s at the bar with Siren?” As Bradley turned his attention back to where he’d known you to be sitting for the better half of the evening, he immediately saw red. A jealousy that rivaled nothing he’d ever felt before consumed him fully, even if his wife was tucked in at his side. 

“We just met and already you’re talking about bed.” You chuckled softly as you took another sip of your drink. Penny had since passed Jake his Budweiser and before you knew it, he was laughing softly beside you. “Not very subtle.” 

“Being subtle was never really my strong suit.” The man beside you replied with a look of all knowing. He knew something you didn’t. If you didn’t know any better you would have asked what that may have been. But you chose to take another sip of your gin. Settletting once again into the comfortable silence that surrounded you and the stranger to your right. 

“So, you ever go out with co-workers?” It stunned you for a second, the forwardness of such a question, but then again—you still didn’t know this guy's name and he was making the heat in your cheeks reach new uncharted heights. 

“I um—“ You tucked some of your hair behind your ear and turned to give the golden skinned, white T wearing man beside you your full attention. Crossing your legs as you did so, so that his knees were on either side of yours. “I make it a rule not to.” His answer sent a shiver down your spin. A good shiver. A shiver that made your core flutter. 

“Then I am so glad that I don’t work here.” Maybe it was the gin talking or maybe it was your recent breakup, but this guy was the very definition of a piece of art. He was gorgeous, an Adonis that surely would have come straight out of accent metrology. 

“Are you hitting on me?” You tried to hide the keen grin that threatened to creep across your slightly heated face, but the sudden attention was giving you an ego boost you desperately needed after being rejected in favour of the cheating wife. 

“Would that be so wrong?” Oh this guy was good. Too good. His infectious smile captivated you in every way it could have. His eyes held a story that was dying to be told. His confidence made you want to lean in and taste it, like hard candy it probably tastes just as sweet as his scent smelled. With notes of Vanilla and warm Bourbon lingering from his neck. 

So you stuck your hand out for him to accept ever so politely. His eyes never left your as you smiled and bit your bottom lip bashfully. 

“I’m Y/n—“ “Lieutenant Y/n Siren Y/l/n.”  “And you are?��� Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. Remember that slow motion we were talking about earlier? Well, the seconds it took Bradley Bradshaw's fist to collide against your handsome mystery man’s cheek, it felt like a century as it played out in painfully slow motion before you. 

His head hit the bar with a thud as beer spilled into your lap. 

“Rooster! Jesus—!” You gasped as you stood and pushed against Bradley’s chest to back him up and away from the man you’d just been talking to. “Fuck! what the hell was that!?” 

Bradley didn’t answer right away as you turned to watch the blond stand with blood dripping down and out of his nose. The two stood there in silence, eyeing each other off as Penny fished out the bar's basic first aid kit. 

“That—“ Bradley huffed as he shook his throbbing hand. His jaw had never been so clenched before. He was furious and full of a rage that burned so deep it could have raised his core temperature by a few degrees. 

His wife stood off to the side looking all kinds of guilty. As did the rest of the Daggers. They knew this was about to get messy. They knew if he was back and already had his target set on you then there was going to be an all out war between the two men who stood ready to run at each other like angry bulls. 

And you, well—you were more concerned about the blood gushing from the nose of your stranger than you were about your ex’s possibly broken hand. But Bradley turned back to you, for a mere second to explain. 

And when he did—you forgot what morals were.

“That was Jake.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

#rooster bradshaw imagine #hangman seresin imagine #top gun fic #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw top gun #jake seresin top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #jake seresin x female!reader

[wolffwish]

The Touch of a Hand Lit the Fuse

Summary: You joined Professor Wolff’s class a little over a month ago, but being as shy as you are, haven’t made any real friends yet. He spots you eating lunch alone in the classroom and decides to keep you company.

Warnings: Professor Wolff x student!reader, smut, daddy/baby girl kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, choking, everything.

It had been around 6 weeks since you moved across the country and accepted an offer to Harvard. You still couldn’t believe it, that all those years of sleepless nights would have you walking through those Business School doors every morning. You hadn’t made any real friends yet due to your schedule being non stop, and as you couldn’t find a table in the cafeteria, you decided to stop by your classroom to see if it was empty, and it was.

You sat at a table closest to Professor Wolff’s desk, just because it was the furthest away from the door, laid out your lunch in front of you and began toying with the apple you almost regret packing. You took your phone from your pocket and started looking at notes for your next lesson.

Deep in thought, taking in all of your bullet points you’d written last week, you startled as you heard the door open behind you. You turned, only to see none other than your Professor standing in the doorway. His white shirt tucked into his grey trousers showing off his slim but muscular frame, with his suit jacket draped over his arm.

“Oh sorry, y/n, I didn’t realise you were—“

“Shit, sorry, I mean uh, I didn’t know anyone was going to come in, I’ll go, sorry, just give me to secs to put—“ You started scrambling around all of your stuff, attempting to pack it all away when you heard footsteps approaching you.

“Y/n, please, don’t leave on my account. Why are you eating in here all alone?” Toto questioned, a gentle hand placed on your shoulder as if to slow you down.

“I uh, I… I don’t really have any friends yet, and the cafeteria was full, it’s fine, I’ll just go eat outside or in—“

“It’s raining. See?” Professor Wolff stopped you in your tracks and gestured to outside, a grim monsoon-like day that had lasted for about a week. There was no way you could eat outside, and you knew that. You just couldn’t muster up any words that made any sort of sense when you had him towering over you.

He pulled up a seat next to you, albeit uninvited, but you weren’t going to put up a fight. He could sit there all day if he wanted to. He was so tall, handsome as hell, his hair perfectly messy and his white shirt hugging all the right places. You couldn’t help but look him up and down as he popped his jacket on the table next to your lunch and took his glasses off.

He broke the silence.

“So tell me… what’s a kind, pretty girl like you doing with no friends?” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing. His fingers ran along his collar as he straightened it out, revealing more of that gorgeous broad neck of his.

“I—“ You couldn’t think. He was literally piercing you with his handsome looks and powerful demeanour. You took off your glasses, which lead to some of your hair getting caught in them, and a few strands of hair messing over your face, resting on your eyelashes. You tried to get them off, but your flustered face and shaking hands meant you were just making a fool of yourself.

“Allow me?” Professor Wolff raised his hand towards your face, and with your nod of permission, gently removed your hair from your eyelashes and tucked it behind your ear. When your face was fully revealed, you made eye contact. His eyes went from your eyes, down to your mouth, and back up to your eyes. “So beautiful…” he whispered, as he removed his hand from behind your ear, gently caressing a finger along your jawline along to your chin.

Was he flirting? Or was he just being friendly? At this point, you were in such a haze you didn’t even know your last name. What do you say at this point? Do you stand up and walk out? Do you ask him a question about his next lecture? Ask him about his life, family, friends, colleagues?

You panicked, and a quick movement from you suddenly had your hand resting on top of his, just below your chin. “Do you treat all of your students you see eating lunch alone like this?” You whispered back to him, hoping you were on the same page.

He smirked, looking at your lips again, and back to your eyes. “Do you question all of your Professor’s that want to keep you company at lunch?” You giggled back— “I guess not.”

Your hand still resting on his as he placed it on his knee, he looked down at it and began stroking the top of your hand with his thumb. He breaks the short silence, “You’re really special, you know that, right? I see how you are in class and I just… I just want to…”

“Do it.” You interrupted him. You thought this was your chance, it’s now or never. You weren’t kidding yourself anymore, you’ve had the hots for this man since you first laid eyes on him. He was making all the moves. You knew it was wrong, but why did it feel so right?

The hunger in his eyes poured out of him as he leaned forwards, locking his lips with yours. A fast paced but sensual kiss, tongues tied with eachother and breathless words mustered between biting of lips.

“Table. Now.” he beckoned, pulling himself away from you. He began unbuttoning his white shirt as he looked you up and down like he was about to dine on you like a three course meal.

You hastily stood up, perching yourself on the edge of the table. Your short sleeved, short button down summer dress was the best decision you made this morning.

Unsure of what to do with your legs, you scurried around for a chair to perch them on. Knees together but feet apart, you shyly tried to pull your dress down as you weren’t familiar with this entire scenario.

He shook his head as he looked down on you, his shirt now unbuttoned all the way and his arms peeling your knees apart. “No no, legs apart for me, that’s it…” you hesitantly separated your legs and took a deep breath in, trying to compose yourself.

“Are you sure we won’t get caught…?” you asked him, looking at the clock behind him. He turned around, checked the time, then turned back to face you. His voice sounding deeper than before, he chuckled to himself… “We have 20 minutes until class starts. I’m sure that’s enough time, don’t you think?”

You nodded and waited for his lead. He moved closer to you, his body in-between your legs as he began lifting your dress up towards your hips. The gentle touch of his fingertips up your inner thighs gave you goosebumps, causing your whole body to tremble under his touch. He flicked his fingers over your already wet panties and teased your sweet spot through the fabric. “Already so wet for me… huh? How about we take these off now?” He hooked both index fingers around the top of your panties and pulled them down your legs, off your ankles and tucked them into the back pocket of his suit trousers. He looks you dead in the eyes, rested one hand on the side of your neck as the other made its way up your thigh. You gasped as his fingers reached your folds, and he began teasing your entrance with his two middle fingers. As he pushed further in to your slick wet pussy, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your neck leant back, as you felt a rush of heat overcome you. He leant down, and kissed your open neck softly. “You like that, baby? You like it with my fingers deep inside you?”

You nodded, eyes shut and lips pressed together trying to hold in your moans. You were terrified to make a sound, through fear of being caught. This was dangerous territory, and someone could walk in at any moment.

Not satisfied with your response, Professor Wolff brought his face up to look at you. “Look at me. Look. Eyes on me.” He demanded, as his fingers thrusted in and out of you with ease, you could almost hear the slickness from your insides drowning his fingers. “I need you to use your words, baby. Come on, tell me… tell me.”

You locked eyes with him and breathed out, your breath caressing his lips like it was a drug to him. “It’s… it’s so fucking good, oh god, it’s so good… please don’t sto—“

You could feel your walls spasming inside you as his long, thick fingers slammed into your g-spot. You were close to exploding on him, and you were so fucking turned on that you didn’t think it was this possible to be this horny, certainly not over your Professor.

“You’re doing so good baby, that’s it. Hold on just a little bit longer for me, I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I…?” He teased, pulling his fingers out slowly and slamming them in hard. He brought his lips to yours, entering his tongue into your mouth as your foreheads met. It was like you were made for eachother, the way you kissed him wasn’t like kissing other guys. This was different. There was a hunger in both of you that couldn’t be tamed, like this whole thing had been a long time coming.

“Please” you begged, “fuck me, f, fuck me right now—“

“Please what?” He questioned. “Please isn’t going to cut it.” He scowled, fingers slamming into you at a fast pace once again. “I need to hear you say it.”

You wanted to say it, you really did. It had been on the tip of your tongue the entire time he’d been fucking you with his fingers, but you weren’t sure if it was right. Or if it’s what he wanted to hear. You whimpered as he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, waiting for your response.

“Not so desperate now, huh? Shall we call it a day then, miss?” He licked his fingers dry of your juices and smirked at the taste of you.

There you were, legs spread on his desk and he was… calling it a day? Because you’d gone quiet…? Or because he was having second thoughts? Every scenario ran through your head. You were scared to look at him if you did pluck up the courage to say it, so you laid your whole body down on the table, making sure your dress was lifted up high enough to reveal some of your stomach.

“Please, fuck me Daddy…”

Silence filled the room. Suddenly the rain started sounding like angry stones being thrown at the window as you waited for a response. You could sense he was still there, and without a single world, you heard the clanging of a belt clasp unbuckling, and the fabric of his suit trousers being slid down his legs. Did he like it?

“There it is, there’s my confident girl…” he growled, as he knelt down. He began kissing up your inner thighs, tracing his tongue along your hot skin all the way to your shining pussy. His hands made their way up your dress, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples as his mouth locked around your clit. His tongue making beautiful patterns at your entrance and finally into your pussy, as you felt him kiss and suck you, pleasure like you’d never felt it before.

“Holy shit, Professor, oh my god…” your breathing became erratic as you bucked your hips at the feel of his tongue on the walls of your pussy. You feel the movement of his head shake side to side. He lifted his head away, bringing one hand down from your breast to your pussy and sliding a finger in. He massages your walls, getting you absolutely soaked. “Try again baby girl… that’s not what I’m called now, is it?” He kissed your thigh again, waiting for your response.

You were out of breath and you’d almost reached your climax twice in the last 10 minutes. You couldn’t think of any words, let alone string a sentence together. “Daddy… fuck, please, need your cock so bad…”

Toto was so fucking turned on, now it was his turn to be at a loss for words. He quickly stood up, drawing his cock out of his white Armani boxers and gave it a few slow tugs. “You want this, huh?” He teased, looking down at his rock hard cock near your entrance. He could see your pleading eyes, almost crying in desperation as you lifted up your head to get a better look at his cock. “Fuck… it’s so big.” You’re shocked. You knew it would be big, but shit… you were about to be torn in half.

He smirked, stepping closer to you and rubbing the tip over your clit. Precum beading on the tip, he used his thumb to wipe off the remnants and bought it up to your face. “Suck.” He demanded. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, and he placed the pad of his thumb on your tongue and fingers under your chin. “That’s it… good girl baby, suck for Daddy.”

Your cheeks went hollow as you sucked his thumb as he demanded. You shut your eyes and tried to concentrate on the taste of his precum, and fuck it tasted good. You could only imagine what the real thing tasted like.

As you opened your mouth to take a breather, you felt his entire body shift, and with one long thrust, he entered his full length into your tight pussy. You both let out an elongated moan, your pussy clamping onto his throbbing cock. He tried to stay upright, but his desire to kiss you overwhelmed him so he brought both your knees up higher and lifted his weight onto you. His hips began long, slow thrusts into you. With each slam, the pain of his thick cock lessened and become a lot more pleasurable. He locked his eyes with yours as you could see his shoulders tensing as he held himself up. “So… fucking… tight…” he claimed, as you both looked down at him fucking you senseless. Sweat began beading on his ripped body. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…” he beckoned as he leant down to kiss you on the lips. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and began rocking your hips up to match his rhythm of thrusts. “So good Daddy, so good…” you mumbled inbetween kisses.

As you bucked your hips up to meet his, his cock met your sweet spot deep inside you and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. “Fuck, I’m so close…” you whimpered. His face was now buried in your neck, sucking gently on your bare skin.

“So good for me baby, that’s it, oh god… keep fucking doing that with your hips, whatever you’re doing, fuck…” now he was begging you, as you continued your momentum of hip rocking so every time he thrusted in, you bucked your hips up to make sure he was as deep as he could be.

There was now a slick layer of sweat between your bodies as you both got closer to your climax’s. You were desperate for your Professor to cum inside you as you let go of your climax too… desperate for him to fill you up to the brim.

The intense fucking he was giving you was out of this world. The sound of him fucking you, the wetness of your pussy. You could feel his balls slamming you hard, too. It was almost an out of body experience, and you didn’t want it to ever end. You were fucked. Absolutely fucked.

As he gave you another kiss, you brought your hands up to his neck and began running your perfectly French-manicured nails through his hair and down his neck and back. “Daddy… I… need you to fill me up… need your cum in me…”

Those words were like a drug to him. He began thrusting you harder, his cock almost sliding out of you he was thrusting that high and hard. You felt your walls clamping round his cock and he could clearly feel it too, as you could feel him reaching his pinnacle. “Daddy… fuck I’m cumming… please, togeth—“ “Oh baby, shit… god I’m gonna fucking cum… fuck… ah fuck!!!”

Your walls clamped around him so hard as you felt spurts of his hot cum shoot up deep inside you. His entire body tensed as he bit on the side of your neck, trying to hold himself together yet jolting at the feel of both your orgasms intertwining with one another.

“Holy shit, baby… that was fucking…”

“…so good…” you finished his sentence for him as your breathing became slower and calmer. You placed your hand gently on top of his head and caressed his hair between your fingers, massaging his scalp as he calmed down.

His cock still inside you, he adjusted himself so he was pushed up on his arms above you. “You’re incredible.” He said, kissing your lips, “so perfect”, then inbetween your breasts. He stood up, slowly sliding his cock out of you and watching both his and your cum pour out of you.

“Fuck!!!” you gasped as you tried to catch it by crossing your legs. “It’s so messy… I’m sorry..” you bolted up right, a slight head rush from getting up too quickly as you embarrassingly attempted to covered yourself.

“Hey hey… little one. It’s okay, don’t worry.” Toto crouched down so he was at your eye level. He kissed your forehead and brought you in for a cuddle, your head resting on his chest. Your adrenaline come-down was hitting you hard, your body was hot to the touch but you were trembling and felt freezing cold. You could hear his heart beating…Still pretty fast, but not as fast as earlier. You began breathing hard again, panic setting in as you realised what had just happened. Was it wrong? Was he going to regret this? He could sense you were going into some sort of shock just by your ever growing symptoms. “Hey, little one… look at me” he moved you away from his chest, locking eyes with you. “Head to the bathroom and get cleaned up. I’ll excuse you from next lesson if you need to take 10 minutes. Make sure you eat something too, okay?”

You nodded and attempted to stand up, albeit a bit like Bambi as your legs were still like jelly. “Take it easy… don’t you realise you just had a good fucking from your Professor…?” He giggled as he steadied you and kissed the top of your head. “Don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking.”

You panicked. Shit. He was a mind reader now, too?

“I won’t regret this. If anything, I’ll regret only doing it once.”

You smiled as you looked up at him. “Wait… seriously?” You we’re shocked, sweaty, a bit of a mess. You thought there’s no way he could want this again, surely it was a one off?

“Maybe next time we take it somewhere more comfortable, if that sounds good to you?” Toto smiled as he slid his boxers back on, then his trousers and tightened his belt. He reached into his back pocket. “Oh, your panties?” He pulled them out to show them to you. You went to grab them, and he pulled his hand away. “I’ll keep these… you can collect them next time. And give me a new pair. Deal?”

You looked at the soaking wet panties in his hand, then back up to his face. You nodded, not saying a word, as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door. You looked back, and could see him buttoning up his white shirt. He gave you a quick wink, before you exit the room, to the sound of the University bell signalling for next lesson.

#toto wolff #f1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fic #professor wolff #professor wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x you #toto wolff fluff

[chiefdirector]

I love you, it's ruining my life | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

I love you, it's ruining my life

The first day was the easiest of all. His world has come crashing down around him and yet he was still standing amongst the rubble. Tim didn't know what was true anymore, the love of his life has disappeared right before his eyes and he was helpless to change that.

He spent the entirety of the first day on the streets of Los Angeles, he rookie by his side, searching for his wife but it was fruitless. He returned home alone.

The second day was worse. Just as he returned home by himself, he woke to an empty bed, her pillows still indented from the last time she had slept there. He didn't make the bed, instead he shoved the sickening feeling that had begun to grow back down and left for work.

The second day of searching for his wife turned up the same results as the first. She was a detective of the LAPD, and yet not a single officer could offer a lead as to where she had gone. She had been taken away with the wind, never to be seen again.

He didn't want to admit it but as the days and weeks passed by, Tim oculd feel his hopelessness return. He was a police Sargent, he knew the statistics on missing persons cases. And it wasn't like she was without her enemies, there was a never-ending list of people who would want to harm her. It was a risk of the job, but yet he never thought it would effect them.

All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary

Despite only a year passing, there was more evidence leading to declare her to be dead rather than another name on the missing-persons list. Tim thought that her funeral would have been the hardest day; watching the empty coffin be lowered into the ground damn near killed him too, but his heart kept beating. It was agonising but he kept on living, he couldn't stop living.

The worst day came only a few weeks later. The memory of the day was fleeting; hazed by the rush of emotions and the actions taken. One moment he was in Sargent Grey's office, and seemingly in the next, he was running through the woods watching her run towards him also.

They crashed together, his arms wrapping around his body, bringing her warmth closer to him. Not matter how close she was, she needed to be closer to him; he didn't want to be apart again, his heart wouldn't be able to take it.

I love you, it's ruining my life

He never wanted to feel that pain again. To love someone as much as he loved her could only leave one of them suffering. He knew that he wouldn't survive loving her and losing her again. He needed to protect himself this time.

He knew that despite everything that happened she wouldn't step back from danger, instead she would come up with a million and one reasons why he was being unreasonable. He had only one option, to make her believe something untrue.

So the worst day came around the following morning, as he sat her down at the breakfast table they had once spent their days laughing over.

"I can't do this anymore," He said, hating himself as the words come out, "I can't live like this, waiting for the call to find out you've been hurt - or worse. I've lived through it and it nearly killed me. I can't do it again."

Panic crossed her face, as she tried to process his words, "Tim, what do you mean?"

"I can't keep waiting for the worst to happen. I love you, and it's ruining my life."

And for a fortnight there, we were forever

-------

Masterlist

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#tim bradford x reader #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #chiefdirector #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #fornight #post malone #fortnight taylor swift #ts11 #Spotify #songfic

[morallyinept]

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter word count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: You and Joel face the morning after your shared intimacy, and any consequences that may come with it. Mentions of smut and death/gore/blood. Descriptions of panic attacks.

☝🏻 I WILL NO LONGER BE ADDING NEW TAGS due to some of them not working as they should, despite me tagging, so please ensure you're following me and turn on notifs so you don't miss an update on this story.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

When dawn approaches, Joel stirs first; the intruding light glowing a dull orange behind his eyelids and pulling him out of a broken sleep. 

Everything. Hurts. Like. Hell. 

His back is still pulling tight and unrelenting - screaming at him that he needs to fucking move off this damned cot or be paralysed for life. His face feels raw with the grazes scabbing over in places and his arm is numb. 

He turns to inhale you in and although he can’t feel his fingers where your weight is crushing them, he lays there enjoying the abstract sensation of your body shape nestled against his as you snooze. Something he still can’t quite comprehend in its entirety.

You’re here, you’re here alive. And you're with him, in his arms. You’ve let him inside of you, after all this time. 

He winds his nose into your hairline and just listens to the sounds of you sleeping as he inhales. He can feel the small whooses of your breath against his sternum cooling him. And he thinks this is how it was always supposed to be.

He can smell the sex between you lingering in the air; the scent of sweat from your body, and he never wants to wash you off of his skin.

He replays it over in his mind, that first moment he entered you and how good you felt contracting around him. How good you’d always felt.

He’s swollen again. Aching. Morning wood, a new peculiarity that stirs grizzly between his legs after what feels like a long hiatus. No-one since Tess, and he thought there’d be no-one else. Destined to live in solace and loneliness, waiting until it was his time to check out of the world, growing ever more rickety in the bones and grey and thinning in the hair.

Despite the pain in his back, fof a moment he feels alive again as he feels the blood fill him thick.  

There’s the calming sound of a few birds twittering outside and he’s lying here on the cramped cot, with come stained sheets, eyes closed enjoying just a few more minutes where Joel can pretend that nothing else exists outside of the shack, except for you. 

That he’s back in his home in Austin, in his old bed with the wooden slats that creak each time he rolls over, and your naked body is curled around him in that sleep-warming haze. 

He strokes all the way down your body to the little swollen belly you’ve got and places a kiss on it. You stir through bleary eyes as he looks up at you smiling, and that devilish smirk that he loves so much on your mouth has him trailing his lips lower still. He can feel you finger through his hair as he starts to lap at your pussy, tasting your honey that only gets sweeter each time. 

Then, he can hear Sarah downstairs humming to her favourite song on the radio. She’s calling up and letting him know the pancakes and bacon are ready, and that he’ll be late for work if he doesn’t get a move on and-

Joel’s eyes snap open and he’s mourning the loss of that sweet, haunting reverie already as it sluices out of his ears to die on the threadbare pillow.

And then that voice; that insidious little fucker creeps up the base of his spine again, seemingly out of nowhere, and is heard taunting him. It leans over his shoulder with a sharp claw tapping against it.

She could never love you, Joel. Not after everything you’ve done.    

In that split second of it pouring its words out at him, making him choke on the smoke of its beguiling voice, Joel feels that unmistakable rigidity flood him; like he’s hit freezing cold water face first. 

It strips him of his breath, the enamel on his teeth; his leg muscles coil and pull tight and he tries to suck in oxygen that flaunts itself at him with an evil smirk as it feels so far out of reach as he gasps for it.

His fist comes up to the centre of his chest and he shudders, encased in that spiralling grip once more, sinking and drowning. 

You’re going to die, Joel. All alone. 

He can’t breathe, he can’t see anymore. He’s just cold and shivering and unable to surface, and all rational thought has abandoned him. 

You hear me, Joel? Alone!

“Joel? Do you hear me?”

The sound of your voice is what pulls him back slowly; the small semblance of recognition through the foggy void that reaches in and grabs him, yanking by the ankles.  

He locks eyes with you and instantly the shame devours him; spitting out gristle chunks of him until there is nothing left. He pulls away from you, sitting up on the cot as you reach up and squeeze his thick shoulder affectionately. 

“Joel-” You query carefully. 

“S’nothin’,” he immediately cuts you off, and the jerk of his shoulder makes you drop your hand like you’ve been stung.

You can only watch, confused and concerned as he dresses quickly, despite the hisses between his teeth from the lingering pain, and retreats out of the shack muttering something about the horses.

He stays outside for a long time; most of the morning is swallowed up by his obvious, intruding absence. You’re not sure what he’s doing, and you can only stare at the plate of uneaten food you’ve left for him that has long since turned cold and dried out. 

His back, broad and hunched, was presented to you in the stable when you went to let him know it was ready. He offered you no acknowledgement, no familiar grunt in response.

Just bubonic silence that got under your skin and infected you with doubt and worry until it forced you to retreat.

You’re now sitting in the wicker chair gawking out at the valley while smouldering away inside. 

You stare at the walkie-talkie with a swill of nervousness swashing around your gut. It was only yesterday the crackled warning came through and then you were ambushed by the infected. But all that seems so far away considering it led to you and Joel to physically expressing your requited pining for one another.

The memory sears into your brain; his mouth on yours, his rough, deft hands on your body… the grunting sounds of his pleasure.

You feel it flutter in your gut and between your legs, and you hitch a breath at the recall that you can still taste on your tongue.

The words ink themself on your skin, he loves you. He always has. It’s what you’ve longed to hear for so long.

And now it’s led to him hiding from you like a child facing his scary closet monster for the first time. You can’t help but feel slightly rejected, despite knowing that you haven’t done anything wrong - have you?

You glance at the clocks and they read a little after ten AM. You stand sighing and reach for your handgun. You holster it to your hip and decide to go for a walk - you need to get out of the shack, away from the trussed up sheets of the cot where the ghosts of you both still writhe and moan in ecstacy.

Away from the missing shape of him filling up the air you breathe. The heat is beginning to stifle again and Joel’s behaviour isn’t helping.

You’re not sure if he’s still in the stable. You hear the sound of the mare whinnying gently as you pass, but you don’t check. 

The lumpy constriction in the back of your throat strangles you as you pass and stomp lithely down the path. 

You pass the bodies; flies circling and feasting on the rotting flesh. You’re so mad even the smell doesn't deter you as you step over them. 

“Why don’t ya ever fuckin’ listen to me?” Joel scolds you as you step back into the shack a little while later.

Your body is hot and sticky from sun exposure and the sweat sticks to you, irritating you further.

Joel saw you trail the path back up to the shack, fuming. He was preparing himself to go out looking for you when he saw your body; small and wandering down at the bottom of the hill.

Gritting his teeth, he endured that slow walk you did whilst rooted to the spot at the window, with fists clenched and recalling all the times before, when you were younger, that your free spirit and desire to chase impulse would come between you more often than not.

As much as he loved you, that lingering platitude of your careless wanderings always irked him. 

Leading to passionate, heated debates and arguments he wouldn’t engage in much, which riled you up even more. Then you would take off again in a huff, to spite him and leave him floundering and worried.

You’d always come back though, tail between your legs and kissing him round to fucking you in forgiveness - until you didn’t. 

Joel remembers the last time you left and he waited for you to come back. Waited probably longer than he should have. 

You didn’t come back. 

“Ya could’ve got hurt.” He growls at you.

He’s pissed as he puffs out his chest, hand on slender hip as you pass him and discard your holster onto the cot that’s still a mess. 

“I didn’t.” You simply say, brushing it off. 

“S’not the point.” He snarks. 

“Then what is, Joel? I’ve been taking care of myself long before you showed up back in my life.” You bite back.

He grumbles, words you can’t decipher, as he sighs and frowns at the ground.

“Old habits die hard.” You simply retort and he glances at you with dark eyes and a pout. 

“Ya can’t be doin’ shit like this, not on my watch.” He trails off, losing himself in the dissipating anger, trying to swallow it down fully. 

"Your watch? I'm a grown woman, Joel. You're not my keeper." You growl. 

He rolls his eyes chewing on the inside of his gums. “Where’d y’go?”

“For a walk.” You say bluntly. You lift off your top and swap it out for one that smells less stagnant under the arms. “You’re not the only one who can run away and hide, you know.”

“Is that what ya think I was doin’?”

“Isn’t it?” You lance him a knowing look and he hangs his head, guilty as charged. “What was that this morning, Joel?” You question and he shakes his head. 

You change tactics and approach him gently, reaching for his face, but he bats your hand away and you scoff, annoyed.

“You’re not going to let me in? Not after-”

“I can’t.” Joel reiterates. You can see it pains him to, his eyes pleading with you not to push it. 

You nod, defeated and step back as he passes you and sits himself down on the chair. His hand rubs at his temple - the side with the scar.

“I’m sorry. I was insensitive, brash. Taking off like that. But you have to understand, I've fended for myself for so long. I’ve had to.” You explain. 

“I get it.” He nods gently. “I can’t lose ya,” he says, barely a whisper. 

“You won’t. Promise.”

“No,” he shakes his head and looks up at you. “Ya can’t make that kinda promise, not now.”

“Then,” you sit opposite him. “I promise I’ll always do everything in my power to make sure I come back to you. I promise not to be so reckless. How’s that?”

Joel sighs, his giant palms dropping onto his knees as he massages one gently. “Better,” he gruffs. He tries not to smile, but you can see he’s struggling. 

“I get it too.” You say, after a few minutes pass between you that’s filled with a suffocating silence.

“Get what?” He questions.

“You’re scared of the way I make you feel.” You begin at him. “Because you don’t want to feel anything. You’ve spent so long making sure that you don’t.”

He shakes his head as your nodding increases. 

“And it's terrifying. It is for me, too.” You admit. "It's easier to have nothing then lose something you care about, right?"

Joel frowns. Then sighs. Then wants to strangle you because you used to do this. You used to get into his head with simple ease. Break down his impenetrable walls and sneak in, and he has no fucking idea how you do it. Or how you can still do it after all this time.

“It’s better that way.” He mutters bitterly. 

“For who?” You watch as his back stiffens. His neck disappearing into his shoulders. His serious expression melts away a little. Another chink in his armour. Then he shakes his head again, muttering incoherently under his breath and you can hear some cursing going on.

“Why are you doing this?” You question.

“I lost someone,” Joel drones, reminding you; his tongue turning around his teeth.

“Sarah.” You confirm, accepting his pain and understanding. Or at least trying to; you would never understand that pain he harbours fully as you’re not a parent. 

“No,” Joel shakes his head and looks at you, despite the pain twisting around his scruffy face. “Myself.” 

It comes out as a croak that dies a horrific death on his tongue. You watch as his eyes glisten and you reach for him instinctively. But it’s not enough.

You get up and sit in his lap and he doesn’t resist this time when you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He buries his face into the crook of your neck as you offer him what he so desperately needs. 

“I don’t deserve any of this,” Joel begins, a mouthful of your skin.

“What makes you think that?” His brown eyes are red in the whites and you watch as he wipes them with the back of his hand quickly.

“‘Cause, I’ve done so much that I should be punished for. In the old world, I'd be rottin’ in a cell now.”

“We’re not in the old world anymore, Joel.” But he was still there, stuck and forever looping it seems. 

"Ya've no idea what I've done. If ya did, you'd take that rifle n' shoot me between the eyes. N' I wouldn't stop ya."

You scoff. “You think because you did bad things, things to survive, that you’re not deserving of affection now? Of redemption? You’re wrong, Joel.” 

“Ya don’t get it, darlin’.” He shakes his head solemnly.

“No, you don’t get it.” You correct and he looks at you with a quick shift of his eyeballs and nothing else. “We’ve all done bad things, things we had to. Terrible things. The world forced us to. You think we were prepared for it? That this is the curveball life was going to throw at us? Every single one of us has done things that, yeah, sure in the old world, we'd be punished for. But now? If faced with it, we’d do it again. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” He asks softly.

You breathe in, reciting Kelper’s words when you’d needed them the most. “Because in this world you have to have something to fight for. To be reckless for… To kill for. If you don’t have that, you may as well roll over and die now because there is nothing else. It's all gone. It's all fucking gone…" You sniff as your own eyes water. "And something tells me you're not ready to do that.”

Your fingers stroke at the nape of his neck softly, curling his hair around your fingers. 

“Are you?” Joel asks tentatively.

“I was.” You say, glancing down at your scar as your hand rests on your thigh. “But turns out, I still got some fight in me. And so do you.”

Joel sniffs deeply and sighs out; his head falls forward and rests on yours and you stay like that for a little while. 

"How’d ya fuckin' do that?" He asks into your eyelashes in wonderment.

His arms just wrap around you and hold you to him as you kiss the top of his head gently. 

“I just know the subject matter really well.” You smile into his crown. “Better than he knows himself.” 

“Ya do,” he pulls away to look at you; deep browns with a pulling, hypnotic warmth boring into you and heating you up.

You feel his hands sliding up your back, fingers notching over your spine nodules and making you shudder.

He smiles at your reaction, the smile blooming on your lips as you enjoy the feeling of him exploring.

“Know ya really well too, darlin’. I never forgot.” He says, as he latches onto your lips.  

Joel switches the walkie-talkie back on later, and you both wait silently.

He throws a glance at you, one that tells you he can still taste you in his mouth. You squeeze your thighs together at the recall of him laying you back down on the cot after your heart-to-heart, and proving to you again how much love he did have inside him, as he filled you up with it.

But now you both sit silently, waiting for any news.

You can feel your gut weighing down to your feet like concrete blocks, and sure enough a voice comes through over the static that’s more clear to receive today. 

It’s a voice you recognise and Joel grabs it and speaks. “Tommy?”

“Joel. Goddamn. Ya guys hangin’ in there?”

“Just ‘bout.” Joel's eyes dart towards yours and you smile tightly in agreement. Fine, hanging threads.

“What happened yesterday? Had a small pocket of infected pay us a visit.” He speaks into the walkie, his thumb letting go of the receiver when he finishes.

“I figured they’d head ya way. Ya pick up my signal?”

Joel swallows as he glances out the window, his eyes squinting in the light. “Yeah.”

You both know it was a close call and your mind shifts to that strident moment when Joel was yanked backwards by the body and tumbled down the hill with it, and it makes your stomach lurch.

That could have ended very differently and it doesn’t bear thinking about as you swallow it away.

“We handled it. ‘Bout twenty or so. Put ‘em down.” Joel explains.

The walkie crackles. “Horde’s gotten bigger. We had to regroup, weren’t expectin’ it. Was fuckin’ chaos.”

Joel grits his teeth and you sit forward in the chair sighing, your hands fisting together under your chin and listening carefully. Trying not to imagine the guys - Kelper, Max and Sal - out of their depths. But you hold fast and steady. They can handle it, deep down you know it.

They’re fine.

“Second team managed to get the explosives laid down. We’re ready for tomorrow. S’gonna go down as planned.” Tommy continues.

“Good,” Joel replies. 

You nod with some small relief ebbing through your bones.  

“Listen Joel. I gotta tell ya somethin’.”

“M’all ears.” Joel says as he looks at you; his brown eyes softening as he takes you in, sending a small affectionate smile back up at him.

He swears in this moment he's probably never loved you more, and the thought makes him sweat a little. He reaches for your knee and gives it a squeeze, watches with some contented awe as your fingers lock into his. 

“We were ambushed by infected breakin’ off. Chased us down. We had to let ‘em. Couldn’t risk the whole horde noticin’...”

Joel nods even though Tommy can’t see. You swallow thickly as you both listen.

Your heartbeat speeds up, you can hear it start to steamroll in your ears, almost drowning Tommy’s voice out. 

“What happened?” Joel asks with a brewing frown. 

Yesterday...

The sun hangs low in the desolate sky, casting an eerie glow over the barren landscape. Sparse woodlands with resilient trees run parallel, separated by a wide stretching field that’s filled with the moving shuffle of infected bodies en masse. 

Tommy can feel the sweat pooling at the back of his neck, gathering in the jet curls where he rubs listlessly at his sun-beaten nape.

From this position, hidden craftily behind the bushes, he’s got a good view.

Kelper, kneeling beside him, peers through the binoculars and sighs gently; but his face is etched with acute determination, watching the horde move towards the direction of the canyon as planned, that seems to echo with the ominous whispers of impending danger at any moment. 

Tommy adjusts his position carefully, crouched behind the thick brush, with aching knees and thighs; his fingers tightly gripping the worn handle of his weapon should he need it.

His breaths come in shallow bursts, the tension in the air almost suffocating. Kelper, the seasoned survivor, keeps his gaze fixated on the passing horde of death, just a few yards out from them.

“How many do ya think there are?” Tommy whispers.

Kelper shrugs. “More than a thousand now, that’s for sure.”

They've swelled in numbers; strays attaching themselves to the wider congregation as they move, led by the unseen force of the group spread up and down the route ensuring they don’t divert. 

“How is this even possible?”

Kelper turns to look at Tommy and shakes his head at a loss. “Evolution?”

The moans of the infected reverberate, creating an eerie symphony that underscores the gravity of their situation. Tommy shifts uncomfortably, glancing between them and in the far direction of where the explosives are being set to detonate.

“Come on ya bastards…” He mutters. 

Kelper smirks. “We’ll get ‘em there. Plan’s been working well so far. We keep pushing. Last hurdle, right?”

“Don’t be fuckin’ jinxin’ us now, man.” Tommy says, a thin smirk pricking at the corner of his lips. 

“Hold your nerve. We’re almost home. Get you back to your lady and your kid.” Kelper assures.

Tommy smiles and looks at him. “What 'bout you? Ya got any family left?”

Kelper shakes his head. “Just the ones I arrived with.” 

Tommy nods. “Right.”

“They’re all I need.” Kelper nods, smiling to himself. 

“Do ya ever wonder if we're becomin’ as heartless as ‘em?” Tommy asks after a few beats of silence.

He nods out to the horde. His eyes bear the weariness of a thousand battles, yet a glimmer of something unresolved flickers within the darkness of them.

“You start to blur the lines between the living and the dead out here, Tommy. But heartless? No, we're fighting for something more than just breath in our lungs.” Kelper says. 

"Ya think they know? Like they still have some conscious thought or shit?"

Kelper shakes his.head. "Nah. Whoever they were, they're long gone."

"Whatever makes ya sleep at night, right?"

"Maybe." Kelper replies.

“I just don't wanna forget what it means to be human, y’know? My brother… he’s lost his humanity. I see it when I look at him now.” Tommy says, shaking his head despondently. “I love him, but… I can’t be like that.”

“I don’t think anyone ever truly loses their humanity.” Kelper says. “If we did, we’d be exactly like them.”  

“How’d ya know we ain’t? They’re just tryin’ to survive, like we are.”

“You feel bad for them?” Kelper's jaw tightens, his gaze drifting to the distant shadows where the infected still roam. The burden of leadership etching deep lines on his face and casting deeper shadows under his eyes. 

“They were people once, even if they ain't now.” Tommy states. “Hard not to feel some guilt sometimes.”

Kelper smiles. “That’s how you know you’re still human.” 

Tommy glances down at the ground and nods contemplating. 

“Being human means adapting, surviving. Sometimes, it means doing things you never thought you would. But it's also about holding on to a glimmer of who you were. You just need to remind your brother of that sometimes. And yourself.”

Kelper's gaze meets Tommy's, a shared understanding passing between them. The depths of the woodlands seem to amplify the words, carrying them into the void where shadows whisper of both survival and sacrifice.

“What if there's another way? A way to survive without sacrificin’ our humanity all the time?” Tommy queries, his voice a low baritone.

“There isn't room for what-ifs in this world. Every move we make is a gamble. We're just trying to tip the odds in our favour. This world doesn't care about ideals. It cares about survival.”

The weight of Kelper's words settle on Tommy's shoulders, pressing down with the burden of a world gone mad. 

Kelper shoots him a glance, a look with the harsh realism of their existence. “We're all paying a price. Sometimes it's just steeper for some.”

“I just... I need to believe there's somethin’ more than just survivin’. For my son.” Tommy says.

Kelper's gaze softens for a moment, a flicker of sympathy cutting through the grizzled exterior.

“I think ‘bout the world waitin’ for him. If it can ever be like it used to. Sounds fuckin’ dumb, I know.”

Kelper shakes his head. “Not dumb. You survive long enough, you start thinking about living. But first, you've got to make it through the hard nights.”

They both glance at one another again.

“We’re changing the world, for your son; for everyone. One dead parasite at a time.” Kelper says with a sincere smile offered.

Tommy nods, and then jumps as the bleep of his radio sounds on his hip. 

“Fuck!” He scrambles for it. “I said radio silence!” Tommy hisses into the walkie.

He shoots his glance up, muffling the sound of the walkie with his jacket. 

Kelper keeps watch on the horde, who don’t seem to have heard it. 

A voice crackles over the low frequency. It's Max. “We got a problem… there’s… shit! Run!-” 

Kelper scans the horizon with the binoculars. “No, no, no, no…” He murmurs in an increasing tempo shaking his voice.

“What?!” Tommy rushes forward and snatches the binoculars as Kepler stands. 

In the distance he can see bodies breaking off from the rear of the horde and disappearing into the woodlands. 

“Fuck!”

Kelper moves and Tommy follows. 

“Hey!”

“We gotta stop this!" Kelper says, frantic. “We can’t let them change course. We need the others to keep them moving forward.” Kelper pelts as he starts to run. “If the bulk of the horde notices, they’ll all come at them!”

“Fuck!” Tommy paces after him. 

“We have to create a diversion.”

“How?” Tommy pulls Kelper back by the shoulder, yanking him fiercely. "What d'ya mean a diversion?"

Kelper weighs it up and comes up with a desperate blank before a dark realisation settles in over his features. “We have to take them.”

Tommy shakes his head. “Thats fuckin’ suicide.”

“You have another idea? We have to get the others. We can’t do this without them.” 

Tommy’s stumped and shakes his head. “It’s not worth the risk. A few strays-”

“Fuck the risk! I’m not losing anymore people to these bastards!” Kelper spits. 

A few beats exist and pulse around them before the decision is made.

“I’ll draw them back through and join you on the other side of thise trees." He points across the field to a clearing beyond the woodlands there. "Round up the others ready.”

Tommy doesn't have time to protest further. He can only watch as Kelper sprints off towards the small branch of infected that have wandered off into the trees after Max's group. 

“Fuck!” He grits and takes off towards the field. Tommy radios the others, instructing them to meet him, but he’s met with crackled silence as he runs. 

His face batters wayward branches as he dashes forward; the beat of his heart in his throat. Then he stops as though hitting a wall as he hears it.

The echo reverberates through the clearing, and the small swarm of infected, like puppets drawn by an unseen force, turn their attention towards Kelper.

His defiant shout slices through the air; a battle cry tinged with both bravado and desperation.

“Fuckin’ idiot!” Tommy seethes. 

As the infected converge towards Kelper instead, the small group, including Tommy, seize the fleeting opportunity to slip past unscathed and unnoticed into position.

The air thickens with a cocktail of relief and guilt. The clearing seems to close in around them, casting shadows that pulse with the haunting thrum of brutish survival. They can only hope the main horde didn't hear Kelper.

Tommy steals a glance back; the torment of leaving Kelper behind etched across his face.

The sounds of a struggle punctuate, each blow landing on undead flesh as Kelper fights them off bravely. The air feels charged with an unspoken understanding - Kelper's creating the diversion, but at what cost?

As the group distance themselves from the small swarm, the guilt claws at Tommy's chest. A corridor of remorse that resonates with the cries of the infected and the desperate struggle of a man who has willingly put himself in harm's way.

“We can't just leave him!” Max whispers to Tommy.

“He knew the risks. We gotta keep movin’.” Tommy ushers him forward, but hesitates himself. His stance falters, a magnetic pull urging him to turn back. 

“Okay, we take ‘em. All of ‘em. Not one of ‘em lives, ya hear me? Make it snappy, make it quiet. No guns. Just blades.” He instructs.

They all nod at him, eyes wide and ready to go as chaos spills out into the clearing. 

Kelper's eyes flick with a mix of surprise and relief as Tommy and the small group flood in towards him. The reinforcements inject a surge of hope into the struggle, weapons slashing through the infected with calculated precision.

The small swarm, once focused solely on Kelper, now face a united front. They fight with a fierce determination, their movements synchronised in a brutal beat against the encroaching threat of screeches and teeth. 

Kelper, momentarily freed from the relentless assault, locks eyes with Tommy. There’s gratitude in the glance; a recognition of the camaraderie that has driven Tommy to return.

The fight rages on, but in that moment, a silent understanding passes between the two leaders as they resonate about not leaving anyone behind, no matter the stakes.

The commune needs a man like Kelper, Tommy thinks. Perhaps he can spend more time with his son and less time making decisions.

The skirmish continues; the group pushing back the infected with a collective force that speaks of their shared resilience. 

They can do this. Nip it in the bud now.

“Shit!” Tommy cries, as more infected flood through the trees towards them. 

Kelper turns at the commotion as they run out, and he locks eyes with one.

It stops him in his tracks and he feels it like ice in his bones.

It looks like… you.

It has your face, your gait, your hair even.

And he knows it isn’t you; knows somewhere in the back of his head that Joel’s taking care of you at the outpost, or you're taking care of him, but for a split second, it’s enough to render Kelper useless on his feet as the sinking realisation of failing you floods through him. 

He’s frozen to the spot, frozen in fear just watching the infected impersonator run closer towards him. 

You're coming for him.

Somewhere, he hears his name being yelled as it hits the back of his head in a dull fuzz as he stands there, unable to move his limbs, for what feels like an age.

But it’s long enough for him to feel it; that searing burn as teeth clamp down on the side of his neck and his blood spills into its mouth. 

The world has stopped turning, leaving him alone inside his frantic battle with screaming and viscera everywhere. 

The bloodstained face of Tommy holds dark, cold eyes as he works his way through the infected effortlessly. Picking them off one by one with his bare hands it seems and leaving no indication of remorse as he goes and yells frantically at Kelper.

The thuds as the lifeless entities fall to the ground thunders through the clearing, sending vibrations towards Kelper. He can feel it in his toes.

He’s not sure how it happens, but the one who is latched onto him is now dead at his feet as he tries to stem the bleeding.

The noise is deafening and Kelper is lost out of eye sight, somewhere amongst the throes of more bodies ramming against them; their faces mangled with bitter hatred and the determination to slaughter the infected with just cause. 

The infected have gathered their numbers well, and it appears as though Tommy is outnumbered as Kelper glances back at them, stunned and shaking.

A single handful of elite warriors facing off against a swarm of hideous monsters, intent on shedding blood in their ravaging hunger. It's like watching a movie play out in front of him, and he's helpless to intervene.

And like those ancient Spartans from film reels gone by, Tommy commands a small unit of his most relentless soldiers. Determined and hell bent on seeking justice and retribution. Their strength is not in their numbers, for they could stand alone and wield the power of many.

Regular men and women, baptised into the fire of combat, they’re taught from the aftermath of the apocalypse never to retreat, never to surrender. No pain, no mercy. 

Endure and fucking survive! 

A well orchestrated phalanx, breaking off into sections when under threat, but soon chaos ensues, blood is spilt. God’s wrath pouring across the land like hot, bubbling lava.

But still they hold strong. 

Tommy fiercely wields his machete as though it’s fluid; sharp steel thrusting in and out of rotting, fungal skin in mere seconds as he fights his way to Kelper.

His cries of war echo over the field and into the ears of those who are in earshot. Instructions in wrath, commands in murder, and praise in blood.

A fearless leader despite his earlier reservations, and it’s not hard to see why the others admire and follow him so.

Kelper smiles, not burdened anymore with that baton previously held tightly in his grip; he’s happy to hand it over. He never was a leader, not really. Just a determined son of a bitch to not falter and wither. 

But it's time to rest now. He had his moment in the sun; plenty of them as they flash behind his flickering eyelids as his vision starts to water and blur. 

The warmth of his mother's embrace. The first time he smoked weed under the bleachers in high school. His first gay crush on Bobby Denton. Man... Bobby fucking Denton. He smiles as he remembers a pretty face he thought he'd forgotten.

Coming out to his father who looked upon him with scorn and disappointment, while his mother welcomed him with open arms. She never did blame him for their divorce. Not once. But he knew.

His first love; the first time he bared his puny heart to Phillip, who reciprocated. The first man to actually love him back.

Phillip, who was wrenched from his arms on outbreak day, in mass hysteria at the shopping mall - at the fucking Gap of all places. He couldn’t find him. Lost him amongst the crowds running and screaming. 

He never got to give him the ring...

Kelper remembers the small band of survivors he’s called family for the last several years. Remembers when he found you huddled in a dirty, shivering ball and trying to take his head off as he approached tentatively.

Fuck, he can’t leave you. What the fuck is he doing?

He looks down at his hand, covered in his own blood, and already feels lightheaded.

“I’m sorry, Goose…” he chokes out, blood gushing down his front and sticky on his chest. 

Flashes of your hands are on his, nursing him back to health. He can taste the time you kissed him, and then apologised, and it took everything in him to pull away from your lips, questioning everything he’d ever known about himself. Drawn to you somehow. What was it, loneliness? Desperation? 

Love?

Did he love you, more than that?

The hungry, consuming eyes stare down upon him in their millions it seems, and he welcomes the whisper of death with a smile on his face and a middle finger.

A small grunt of satisfaction tears through him and the faint beats of his name are heard somewhere in the distance. 

He knows you’re strong. That you crinkle your nose when you laugh at something he says when you feel bereft, he can see it now. Hear it even; it’s echoing all around him as they tear into him, blocking out the sun.

At the end of a hard day enduring, surviving, seeing you smile at him makes everything alright. He never told you enough.

Never told you everyday that he fucking loved you. 

He hopes you knew. Hopes you knew that in another world, he loved you the way you might have wanted him to.

He should have been the one, in another life he deduces that he probably would have been. You’d both be married with papery skin, sitting on rocking chairs overlooking the ocean with fat grandchildren playing at your feet. 

But in this life, he had you as a friend. A soulmate. And it seemed better somehow. Transcendant.

It was worth it all.

Kelper drops his weapon, his fingers weak and unable to use it now. Unsteady on his feet as they devour. Blurred vision splits the sun in two and hot wetness is felt below his abdomen, searing at first, but soon massaged away by the delight of nausea. 

He’s deluded and sincere. He knows you love him. That Guthrie, Max and Sal love him. That Phillip loves him, wherever he is. Perhaps he’ll see him soon.

He believes it and it will ensure he can pass on happily. Content. At peace.

Fuck, he deserves some peace. He chuckles, hearing it in his ears above the cacophony of their grunts and groans.

He recalls those precious moments; moments where the darkness of the world disappeared for a while. It wasn’t all doom and gloom and fungal bloodshed.

There was always light in the darkness when you were lost, you just had to look for it.

Remembering his smile lost inside of your freshly washed hair that smelt of wild flowers, breathing in the notes as you slumbered peacefully on his chest after he saved your life.

He can smell them now, the clearing has come alive with them, sprouting up everywhere and beautiful from root to petal.

He wishes he could show you them.

It gives him comfort in his last moments where he falters now alone in this barren clearing, where the earth has been cracked and splintered by the creatures that ravage it now. 

Kelper falls backwards against the hard ground, but doesn’t notice the pain. The lights will soon dim, but he can’t take his eyes off of your smile, your resilience.

How strong he knows you’ll be in this world without him.

You’ll be alright, Goose…

He gives into it now, comes quietly despite the sound of teeth around his face. 

And as Kelper slips away from this world into the next one, a single tear flows from the crease of his eye, never to be seen by anyone. 

“... We lost Kelper.” Tommy confirms over the static.

Joel’s eyes immediately flick to yours; his face sinking as you sit forward gripping the chair rests, your eyes filling with water. 

No.

“He didn’t make it.” Tommy says. “They got him. Was pretty bad and-”

“Tommy, stop talkin’!” Joel hisses down the radio cutting him off as he sees your expression changing.

No.

You’re shaking your head, but you don’t feel the physical motion. You’re instantly numb.

No. No. He’s wrong. 

The next thing you know you’re screeching into the walkie, having snatched it from Joel’s hand, and telling Tommy frantically that he’s wrong.

Yelling through to him to stop fucking around and put Kelper on so you can talk to him. You need to hear his voice. Hear him say he’s okay.

Because he is - he has to be! There’s no way that he-

“M'so sorry, sweetheart," Tommy’s voice says, as Joel grapples with you, but you don’t hear it. 

You don’t hear anything else except your own frantic wailing and screams as you sink to the floor, Joel catching you in his arms and crushing you tight against him, as you finally break in two. 

No. 

No.

No.

NO!

To be continued...

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Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

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#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fic #pedro pascal characters #five days #five days series #jett's writing

[grapejuicestyless]

But I’m Kind Of Green

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: April showers bring May flowers. As the warm spring air carries in a warmth you and Harry haven’t felt for months, you spend the day basking in the sunlight and admiring the things you couldn’t really see in the dark winter.

The grass underneath my fingertips tickles my skin as I wrap my knuckles around the roots a tug. Soft sounds of squeaking filling the silence that lingers between us. The silence is never awkward, nor is it heavy. Our eyes flicker between each others faces and our hands narrowly avoid the others in the freshly cut grass.

“Did you wear sunscreen?” Harry smiles with his front teeth before shaking his head, and his eyes flicker down to my nose for a moment.

“I can tell.”

“Yeah?” He mumbles, scooting his hips closer to mine and tucking his hands beneath his head like a pillow. He rests his hair in his palms.

“You get burnt under your eyes real bad, I can see that coming in. But you’re also getting freckles again.” Harry laughs.

“Anything else?”

I think about it for a second, but decide to just move impossibly closer and place my own palms beneath my head to rest.

“No.”

Harry hums.

“Well, I like being in the sun, we haven’t had weather like this in a while.” He begins, “and I think it’s my favorite kind of weather because it’s easier to see you.”

“How so?” I smile, still searching around his own face. I can feel the heat not only radiating from the sun above but also bouncing off of his body onto mine. It’s a warm blanket of love and comfort wrapping around us in the early may heat.

“In the winter your eyes are brown.”

I raise my brow, blinking more rapidly subconsciously.

“Well, my eyes are brown.” Harry smiles smugly, “Says so on my license too.”

“Well then your license is wrong. Your eyes are hazel.” He smiles proudly, his leg throwing itself over my knee to link us together in yet another way.

“Are they?”

Harry hums, smiling sweet at me and turning to the side completely to admire the way the sun beats down on us. He has a dopey look in his eyes I wish I could capture forever in my memory. A lazy haze that he only gets at this time of the year, when the harsh winter is transitioning into a breezy summer.

“Yep. But you can only tell in the sun. They look plain brown in the dark, but when we lay out like we are now you’re green all over. Not to say I don’t like your brown eyes, but I just think it’s interesting because I don’t really get to see the green for that long.” His thumb swipes over my cheek slowly, tracing my cheekbone down to my chin. He sets his hand back under his ear with a shuffle.

“Well, your eyes are just kind of green in the winter but they get really green in the summer. I think that’s pretty cool too. And your hair, it’s darker in January than it is in June.” I laugh under my breath, melting into every lingering touch of Harrys skin to mine.

“I guess we’re both kind of green then. That’s something else we have in common.”

Sometimes when Harry talks to me like this I wonder if I’ve done anything in my life good enough to deserve this. All the love the that pours out of him reflects back onto me so I can send it back over. We sweet talk and laugh like we have no stress in the world and if I cry I know he’ll be the one to hold me. I wonder if there are other people out there who experience the same kind of love we have, if the little things make them feel as giddy as they do for us.

I can feel the laughter bubbling up my throat and through my body with the realization that we both share a but of green in ourselves. I never really noticed the green before Harry pointed it out, and I would have never have known if he hadn’t told me.

In moments like this I wonder how I survived in such a grey and dreary world without Harry by my side. I think back on all of our adventures and think about how boring everything must have been without his warm presence and soft laughter in my ear.

“But I’d still love you if you weren’t.” He adds with a cheeky smile, his hands gripping my waist to lift me over his hips. I lay my head near his and bathe in the may breeze with the people around us and the bees in the leaves.

I think I whisper to him that I love him, but I’m not really sure because now I can only focus on him and all of his greens.

I once lived a life of total winter, darkness clouding my eyes, but now I see the world the way I think I should have always been seeing it. Because summers are more fun and the winters are shorter. Brown eyes are nice, but I’m kind of green and so is Harry.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #yn x harry #hslot harry #harry x reader #harrystyles #harry styles #yn x harrystyles #ynxharrystyles

[taevbears]

Pandora's Box

Keep a fire burning, however small; however hidden

⤑ pairing: Hoseok x reader ⤑ genre: angst, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 3.1k ⤑ warnings: ANGST, mention of alcohol and drug use, depression, self-sabotage and unhealthy coping, non-explicit sex, unhappy ending. ⤑ note: Happy Hobi Day! I've been wanting to write a JITB-inspired fic for Hobi since forever (it's probably my favorite solo concept), and this idea has been sitting in my drafts since forever lol. I initially wanted it to be a scary one-shot, but it ended up being a very sad one-shot instead lol. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

You notice it as soon as you walk in. 

Sitting on the coffee table is a box. Simple in design. Colored white.

You know that opening it, however, will unleash a whole myriad of demons you’re not ready to face.

The first is the one called Lust.

The fateful night you met Jung Hoseok is a blur. Music at the party you wound up in is so loud, you could feel the vibrations of the deep base through the walls. A hip-hop song is playing, but you could barely make out the lyrics over the thrumming booms of the stereo.

A haze of grey smoke fills the room, distinct with the acrid scent of cigarettes and weed. In the fog, you’ve found your friend sitting on the couch, curled up against the guy she’s been dating on and off. At the moment, the two of them are very much on again, making out with little regard to everyone and everything else around them.

In the meantime, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve refilled the red, plastic cup in your hands, downing hard liquor and letting the alcohol burn your throat, but you go into the kitchen to get more.

That’s when you notice he’s been looking at you. When you catch his gaze, he offers a friendly smile. And when you return it, he approaches you.

“I’m Hoseok,” he introduces himself, raising his voice so you could hear him over the music and the chatter. He stands close enough that you could smell his cologne. A mix of woody tones with notes of spice and citrus. “What’s your name?”

He’s cute, you think, as you tell him your name. And funny, you add to yourself, as he later says something to make you laugh.

You like him, you realize as your hand finds his and you start to lead him upstairs to look for an empty room.

You don’t remember much about the night you met Hoseok. Can’t recall a word you said to each other, or what he did to make you fall for him so fast.

But even in your drunken haze, you remember the heat of his kiss, the way his fingers teasingly slipped beneath your clothes as you eagerly unbutton his pants, and the subtle bite of his lip when you push him to the bed and strip off the rest of your clothes.

“I like you, Hoseok,” you confess, cheeks flushed. Probably from the alcohol.

Hoseok chuckles.

He grabs your elbow and pulls you closer until you’re hovering over him. He kisses you one more time, so sweetly you think you could melt. Then, he suddenly flips you over with your back to the bed. A glint of mischief is in his eyes as he leans down over you.

“I think I like you too.”

The second is Greed.

After that night, you and Hoseok met up several times.

The first couple of times were almost repeats of the first night. You find each other at a party, seeming to share some of the same circles of friends and acquaintances. You could barely see straight when you hear Hoseok calling you, and you burst out in laughter because you’re genuinely surprised he remembers your name.

“Of course I remember you,” he assures you, flashing a bright, flirty smile. It almost falters with nerves when he asks, “Do you remember me?”

“How could I forget?” you tease back, taking his hand in yours again.

It feels better the second time. And by the third, when you’re just waking up from a throbbing headache, you’re surprised to see he’s still in the room with you, long after the party is over.

“I can give you a ride home if you want,” he offers. You have too much of a migraine to decline.

By the time he pulls up at your place, he gives you his number. Just in case you need to call him for another ride or anything else.

“Thanks, Hoseok.”

“No problem,” he replies, and there’s a look in his eyes that makes you feel uncomfortable. It’s kind. It’s hopeful. It’s something you’re not quite expecting from him. “Be sure to call me, okay?”

“Sure, Hoseok. Thanks again.”

He leaves it at that.

Even though you said you would, you don’t call him. Not until your friend dramatically breaks up with her boyfriend again and ditches you at a party out of town. Everyone else in your contacts is busy that night with work and other obligations. When you see his number, you hesitate for a brief moment before you tap to call.

“Hello?”

You instantly regret it. He sounds like he’s asleep.

“Actually, never mind. I can just call someone else,” you backtrack out loud, thinking, perhaps, a taxi or something would be a better idea. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“No, it’s fine,” he assures you, seeming to realize who is calling him in the middle of the night. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

Hoseok drives all the way to get you. Even with the empty roads, it’s at least an hour drive one-way. It’s a sobering moment when he finally pulls up and greets you with a warm smile.

“Are you hungry? I can buy you food and pay for gas,” you offer once you’re in the car. You feel like you owe him that much.

“How about a date instead?” Hoseok counters, and again, he has that hopeful look in his eyes. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow night.”

If there was a perfect moment to tell him you aren’t interested in a relationship right now – that all the partying and drinking is to numb your mind from your own problems and stresses – this would be it. Clearly, he wouldn’t go out of his way and come this far if he isn’t interested in you.

And Hoseok seems like a good guy. You shouldn’t be stringing him along like this.

But you’re selfish. And that selfish part of you smiles and says, “Sounds good. What should I wear tomorrow?”

Next is Envy.

Jung Hoseok, as you’ve learned, has it all. A loving family with a pet dog. A close group of friends who are like a second family to him. A great sense of fashion, and talent in dancing that could make him a worldwide star. He’s passionate about the things he wants, driven for the things he wants to achieve, and humbled despite his ambitious achievements.

It becomes apparent to you, very early on in your relationship, that he’s a man out of your league. Someone too good to be true.

You’re… undeserving of someone like him.

“You’re so nice to me.”

Hoseok smiles, but looks a bit confused as he peers up from the menu. For the first date, he decided on something fancy. A dinner with a view, where the waiters serve imported wine, and the dishes look like edible pieces of art. You’re both dressed well, blending with the other couples and groups in the surrounding tables.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks you, a bit taken aback by your statement. “I like you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you quietly counter. The insecurities are getting the best of you. While Hoseok could make a name for himself, you’re just a nobody. Lost in life and without ambition. You waste your days numbing yourself from the mundane and loneliness.

What could someone like you possibly offer to someone like him?

Then, Gluttony.

Honestly, for a while, you didn’t know what you and Hoseok were doing. When you first met him, there was only one thing you wanted. And somehow, that became something more.

Somehow, Hoseok continues to meet up with you and take you to nice places. He doesn’t expect sex from you every time either. It’s like he genuinely likes to hang out with you.

Once, he took you to an aquarium. You didn’t even think you cared about fishes and marine animals, but your eyes widen in awe when you see the luminescent glow of jellyfishes in the tanks. The corner of your lip lifts into a small smile when you see Hoseok clapping his hands and laughing when a sea lion claps its fins back at him. And you actually laughed when you dared Hoseok to touch a stingray at the petting station, and he nearly fainted when the tip of his fingers brushed against its back.

Another time, the two of you end up at a local diner after a party, a little drunk and a little high. The two of you order too many burgers and fries and decide to eat them by his car in the empty parking lot. Perhaps you were still intoxicated. Perhaps the food wasn’t doing anything to help you sober up fast enough, but you end up sharing more about yourself than you ever intended to that night. And Hoseok is quiet as he listens, not once judging you for every bad decision you’ve ever made. In fact, he tells you that he thinks the same sometimes – that he isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like you initially thought he’d be.

Then, there was the day he took you to the mall. He seems very adamant about couples clothes and making sure he matches with you whenever you two go out. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, if you were honest, but he seems to like it a lot when you’d color coordinate with him or if you’d wear the top for the matching set of his pants. An elderly woman is in line behind you two when you take a break from shopping to grab some pretzels and drinks when she comments that you look like a cute couple.

It hits you right then and there that you and Hoseok are a couple.

You’ve been showing up at his dance rehearsals and shows. He’s introduced you to his friends and you’ve all hung out at the beach. He comes to pick you up from work and take you to his place, which slowly but surely has a lot of your stuff in his space now.

Neither of you ever made the relationship official though. Yet, Hoseok smiles at the elderly woman, practically beaming as his hand tightens around yours and thanks her.

You don’t know what you are to Hoseok – if he really sees you as his girlfriend, someone he’s just dating but not that serious about, or maybe just a friend he’s intimate with – and you’re not sure what comes next.

The two of you find a spot to sit down, and you watch as he snaps pictures of the pretzels first before holding up the phone to take a picture of you and him together. As you pose for the camera, you could see how the two of you really do look like a couple. Matching clothes and all.

Whatever you are to Hoseok, and whatever he is to you, perhaps it’s okay to indulge in it while it still lasts. Even if a small, tiny, selfish part of you yearns for more.

And then, Wrath.

Since the beginning of your relationship, you’ve been quietly counting down the days until it’s over. When Hoseok would find someone else and move on, just like any other lover you’ve dated. He’s too good to you, too kind. And you’ve been heartbroken and jaded one too many times to know that an inevitable end will come.

Even when an anniversary becomes two.

Even when he introduces you to his parents, and has started looking for a house you can move in together.

Even when his friends start to tease him and ask when they can expect an invitation to his wedding with you.

You’ll always fuck it up somehow.

“I don’t know why you’re so angry with me,” Hoseok tells you, exasperated. His patience seems to be running thin. “Did I do something wrong?”

It’s frustrating for both of you. Your suspicions. Your insecurities. Nothing good happens to you. A little voice in your head nags that you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him.

And there’s nothing he can do to prove to you otherwise.

“I think we need to end this,” you find yourself saying. Words that you don’t mean, but they fall out of your lips anyway. From self-sabotage. From pain. From fear. 

“You don’t mean that,” Hoseok calls your bluff. He doesn’t look angry or upset, but it seems like he expected this. The disappointment seems to hurt more than if he were to lash out on you.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill, but you refuse to cry. Not in front of him. You keep pushing him away, hoping he’d wake up and realize what you’ve always known – that he’s too good for you. That you’re the wrong person to share a future with.

“Just go,” you demand, your voice soft, barely a command.

You expect him to fight for you, like he always does. The back and forth breakups to make ups has become a vicious, toxic cycle lately.

“Fine.”

You’re stunned when you see him get off the couch and quickly walk out the door without another glance at you. This is what you want, right? It feels cruel to have expected him to stay.

And as your tears finally fall, a part of you – the part that truly, desperately loves him – hates you even more.

Sloth.

That is a demon that stayed with you the longest.

Your heart feels heavy after the fight. So heavy, it feels troublesome to move. To eat. To think. All you want to do is rot away in your bed and sleep.

“Come on,” Hoseok’s voice gently calls for you. He opens the blinds to your bedroom, letting sunlight spill in. “I got the bath ready for you. Let’s wash up and I’ll make you something to eat.”

You close your eyes again, scowling with your face pressed against the pillow. Maybe you’re dreaming. A hallucination of your lover that your mind imagined, prompting you to get up and face the world already.

Or maybe Hoseok is just really too kind.

You get your answer when you feel his hands pull you away from the safety of your covers, and he helps you to the bathroom. He's picked up the empty bottles of beer and soju that littered around the room, you note, seeing them neatly put in plastic bags. The warm water feels soothing against your skin, and you soon feel his fingers run through your hair and massage your scalp.

You don’t say anything to him then.

You don’t say anything as he helps you dress up into something comfortable and sits you at the table. Groceries you don’t remember buying sit on the counter. He must have gotten them before he stopped by.

It’s only after he sets down a bowl of stew he made that you finally speak.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, your voice so soft, you don’t think he heard you.

You’re undeserving of this. You’re undeserving of him.

Even now, that little voice in your head taunts that.

“I like you,” Hoseok simply answers, sitting next to you with his own bowl. There’s a sad smile on his face as he continues, “Even if you don’t feel the same.”

You sniffle. The part that loves him wants to scream that he’s wrong.

But the tiresome demon snuffs it out and keeps you quiet and complacent.

And then, there is Pride.

Some would say, it’s the most evil of them all.

Pride keeps you from admitting your mistakes. From saying that you’re wrong. That asking for forgiveness is beneath you, and seeking for help and assurance is weakness.

Hoseok comes and goes often after you two have broken up. A stubborn part of him seems to think he can fix things. That in time, you’ll change your mind and take him back. That you’ll love him again, just as much as he loves you.

Even though, in your heart, you’ve never once stopped.

Pride is the vice that sneaks up on you. One you didn’t think you’d ever have, given the way the others plague your mind.

You only realize it when Hoseok stops visiting as much. When his calls are less frequent. When that look in his eyes that he used to only have for you starts to turn to someone else.

“Are you happy?” you ask when he tells you about her. He doesn’t need to. It isn’t any of your business. But he does anyway.

Because Hoseok loved you once. Perhaps, there will always be a part of him that still cares about you. That still likes you, despite everything.

A small voice in your head tells you to admit your feelings to him now. To tell him that you still love him. That you never stopped thinking about him.

Maybe if you did, things would’ve been different. Maybe if you did, he’d choose you.

But that kind of confession is undeserving of you. It kills you to see Hoseok moving on and loving someone else. But what little pride you have steels you from revealing the truth.

Even as he smiles and tells you, “I am.”

The cruelest one of them all, however, stands before you.

You've been doing better. You've been trying. The drinking and parties have slowed down significantly. The demons that haunt you have quieted down. You and Hoseok are friends, despite everything.

Which is why you end up here, at his place, looking at the white box he has in his hand.

Hoseok smiles and shows you what’s inside the box. Hope is in his eyes as he looks at you.

And a myriad of demons and their vices scatter into your heart all at once.

Lust makes you careless. Throwing yourself away to carnal sins is how you two met, and perhaps, not much else more.

Greed makes you selfish. Makes you want to keep him for yourself, even if you’re the one who broke things off with him.

Envy makes you jealous. What does she have that you don’t?

Gluttony makes you indulgent. All you do is take, take, and take. You don’t give anything back, and that’s why he deserves more.

Wrath makes you angry. You want to scream, throw something at him, make it known that you’re upset. That you’re still in love with him.

Sloth makes you complacent. Despite your fury, you could do nothing. This is all your fault, after all.

Pride makes you a liar. You refuse to let Hoseok know how hurt you are.

And hope … Hope has you clinging to him, even now. It makes your heart yearn – that small, tiny part of you that keeps fighting for him. That keeps reminding you that you love him. Even as he stands before you with an engagement ring inside the white box.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

You force yourself to smile, hoping that it doesn’t reflect the way your heart shatters. Hoping that, for a brief second, he’d look at you and say that he loves you still.

“She’ll love it, Hoseok.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#pandora's box os #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts angst #jhope angst #jhope fanfic #jhope fic #hoseok angst #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic #hoseok oneshot #jhope oneshot

[notiddygxthgf]

10. don't look back

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more...

★ a/n: so so so sorry for leaving yall on a cliffhanger like that ughhh!! momma loves u all. anyway not much to say about this one, so enjoy! hope yall brought tissues <3

★ w.c.; 7.1k

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CONFUSION DISTORTED YOUR FACE. Your heart skipped another beat, and then another. The warmth of the room seemed to dissipate, leaving a chilling silence in its wake.  The symphony of anticipation within your chest faltered, eyes widening as they scanned the messages on the screen – your phone.  

Shit, you thought. Shit, Shit, Shit… you had been foolish enough to leave your phone behind in a drunken haze. 

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” You murmured softly, your voice betraying your confusion. 

“You’re full of shit,” he chuckled humorlessly. His eyes met yours and they were dark, emotionless. “Waka? Of all fucking people, too?”

His voice sent shivers up your spine. It didn’t make any sense; you had done everything right… so, why now? Your eyes fell to the cigar in his hand, white at the tip from the ash. You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Babe, I don’t even know–”

“Don’t call me that,” He retorted rather bluntly. “Don’t play dumb with me, girl.”

“I’m not playing dumb,” You answered. 

“We both saw those fucking messages,” He spat, taking another hit of his cigar before he tapped it into the ashtray. “Least you could do is tell the truth.”

“It’s out of context,” you hissed, in some feeble attempt at getting him to believe you. “It’s not what it looks like, I–”

“WHAT IS IT, THEN?” Takeomi slammed his fist on the table. You jumped at the sound, face burning a bit with the heat of your embarrassment. You wanted to say something, but it appeared as if all coherent thought had successfully left your body. Your mouth was glued shut.

Takeomi shook his head with a sigh, rising from the loveseat in a manner that had you backing away from him. You knew what he was capable of doing to you. Given that the two of you were alone right now, you prepared for the worst. Takeomi had you cornered.

“Cat got your tongue? Shame,” he tutted. Towering over your trembling body, he pulled a hit from his cigar, blowing the bitter smoke out against your face. His eyes were dull, glazed with liquor and anger. Still, you knew it meant nothing good. “Bet you were real loud for him, weren’t ‘ya?”

You froze, paralyzed, like prey being hunted by a predator. Your heart hammered against your ribcage like it wanted to break free. “Takeomi, I…” you swallowed, reaching toward him with a trembling hand. “I know this seems cliche, but I promise, I can explain–”

In the blink of an eye, Takeomi had braced a hand on your chest, shoving you backward into the coffee table. The force of the push sent you flying into it, glass tabletop shattering as ceramic vases tumbled onto the floor. You gasped, clutching your back.

Takeomi flicked his cigar onto the carpet, stomping it out with his shoe. “Listen,” he began, “I’m only g’nna ask you one time, babe. You’ll answer honestly if you know what’s good for you.” 

The leather of his shoes crackled as he squatted down to your level. The world was beginning to spin, but the image of his stoic expression glaring down at you was one you would remember forever. He reeked of booze and nicotine, brows drawn low over his stormy grey eyes, black hair falling into his red-tinted face. “Did you cheat on me with my fucking coworker?”

You raised your head in an effort to look at him. Eyes rolling back, you stared up at the ceiling instead. Your mouth felt very dry all of a sudden.

“Say it,” He spat, voice cracking slightly beneath the pressure of his emotions. He was closer to you now than before, face hovering only a foot or two above yours. His eyes were a boiling cesspool of anger and hate. “He’s already on his way here. One of you’s gonna ‘fess up.”

Wakasa was coming. The thought of him being there brought a sense of relief over you, one that was quickly replaced by the realization that he would be walking right into a trap.

He’s already on his way here.

“Take…” you muttered weakly. A groan left your lips the moment you attempted to look him in the eyes. “Please.”

“Tch,” he sucked his teeth. Rather than helping you up or apologizing for shoving you, he dusted his hands off onto his briefs, standing up and then turning away from you. The light caught the arch of his nose as he turned toward the knock that sounded at the front door. 

“Just in time,” he remarked. You tried to crawl to your feet, keep him away from that door, but you felt too weak to move. Takeomi stepped right over you, anyway. It didn’t take him long to open it.

“ Sorry I’m late.” 

If you had ears like a dog, they would have perked up at the sound of his voice, his song. That low, casual croon that made your heart warm even though you knew it wasn’t right. Your gaze remained on the ceiling, world blurring a bit around the corners. I must have hit my head pretty hard,you thought, rubbing your temples in vain as if that would help ease the slow throb.

“Come in, please,” Your boyfriend replied, allowing Waka to enter his space with such faux generosity that you felt yourself turn toward the sound of his voice in an effort to watch the interaction.

Wakasa was upside down from where you were laying, clad in a black leather jacket and some blue jeans. He scanned the interior of his coworker’s apartment, lavender hues flitting over the living room. He paled visibly when he saw you laying there.

Takeomi shut the door behind the two of them, allowing Waka to process everything that had unfolded before his eyes in such a short period of time. When a minute or so had passed, he clapped a hand over Waka’s shoulder. 

“Waka, you’ve met my girlfriend, right?” Takeomi mused. 

Wakasa’s mask seemed to slip – if only for a brief moment. Still, as always, he managed to play it cool. “Yeah,” he muttered, licking his lips. “Am I interrupting somethin’?”

You gazed back at him, hoping your eyes relayed the message. Run. Run before it’s too late.

“I got a call from her neighbor, says she had a bike parked in front of her house this morning,” Takeomi continued anyway. He stepped around Waka, folding his arms behind his back. “I don’t have a bike.”

Wakasa furrowed his brows, tilting his head. He amazed you, still, with his innate ability to keep that poker face in even the most perilous of situations. “Okay…” he trailed off. The confusion seemed genuine. He had you fooled for a moment. “Where are you going with this?”

The grin on your boyfriend’s face was anything but welcoming. He shook his head and then looked at Waka like he had every intention to kill him. “You fucking my bitch, man?”

You felt your heart plummet. This was it, you thought. Waka was going to fess up to it. This little illusion the two of you had was about to come crashing down. The glass beneath your wounded arm shifted as you tried to get to your feet.

To your surprise, Wakasa didn’t even flinch at his words, instead drawing up a brow and sparing a brief glance your way. He looked at Takeomi as if to say, Really?

You had to admit, the act was convincing.

Poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, Takeomi nodded. “Figured you’d try ‘n lie your way out of this,” he muttered. His words were a bit slurred together, stumbling drunkenly for a moment as he reached into the interior pocket of his coat. The object he produced was shiny and silver, glinting beneath the lamplight as he turned it toward his coworker.

With wide eyes, you gasped, clawing at the floor. 

“You bet’ta fess up, Imaushi, ‘M not fuckin’ playing,” He slurred. The veins in his hand popped, fingers tensed around the grip of his gun.

“Take,” Wakasa sighed, still remarkably calm considering he had a gun aimed at his head. You knew it was all an act, of course, but you had to give credit where it was due. Even if the timing wasn’t necessarily appropriate. “You’re drunk. Put the gun down.”

“How long has this been goin’ on behind – hic – my back?” Takeomi pressed further.

“I’m not fuckin ‘yer girl, man,” Wakasa shook his head. “The hell are you on about?”

Takeomi held a finger up to the shorter man, shoving his hand back into his pocket and rummaging around until he found your phone. He fiddled around with it for a bit and then turned the screen over.

The room went quiet in an instant, tension pending in the air as Wakasa squinted at the tiny screen. You found yourself doing the same. Bracing your hands on the glass-speckled floor, you stumbled to your feet.

“Say hi to the camera, baby.”

With a gasp, you covered your mouth. The tips of your ears turned red. Shit. He found the video.

“Taking it so well…”

“Waka–!”

“We– hic– well?” Takeomi grumbled. If he didn’t have a gun pointed at Wakasa, you probably would have laughed at the way he stumbled forward. “That’s not you?”

Wakasa quirked a brow, leaning in to get a closer look. The corner of his lip twitched as he licked it. His eyes darted between the phone in Takeomi’s hand – the screen where you knew your vulva was spread open on display for a live studio audience – and the gun. 

The sound of your own voice nearly brought you to hysterics. You were mortified.

Finally, he sighed. “I mean, shit, man,” he offered after a lengthy pause. “That’s some pretty solid evidence there, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Takeomi’s eyes locked with yours in a dance of torment and love mingled with betrayal, hatred clashing with the shattered fragments of trust. The tears that had begun pooling in your eyes earlier streamed down your tender cheeks as you pleaded with him silently. 

He turned the barrel of the gun towards you, and for a moment – a brief, fleeting moment – you saw Wakasa’s mask break, eyes widening as he watched it happen. 

“Six years,” Takeomi reiterated, stepping away from Wakasa and inching closer to you. 

Your efforts to back away from him were ultimately in vain, you realized the moment you felt your back collide with the wall. Takeomi had you cornered – again – as he waved the gun in your direction. 

“Take, please…” You pleaded with him, face stained with tear marks. Your voice trembled beneath the weight of his unspoken threat. “I–”

“SIX FUCKING YEARS,” He shouted, the force of his voice causing you to jump. The anger seemed to be gnawing at him on the inside, anguish and hatred waging war within him, a tempest of conflicting emotions threatening to put an end to this once and for all. He appeared to stand before you on the precipice of a decision, torn between the love that had once bound the two of you and the searing pain of betrayal. His voice broke, “Was it not enough for you?”

You hadn’t realized he had backed you up against the wall until you felt the chill from the metal barrel press against your neck. His other arm kept you pinned in place. 

His eyes were wild, watering a bit as he looked at you for a moment. He cocked his gun, though the quiet click seemed to be amplified tenfold. His hair fell into his face. “I want answers,” he whispered.

“Take, put the fucking gun down!” Wakasa shouted somewhere behind him. He seemed closer than he was before, like he had inched closer to your manic boyfriend, although you weren’t about to crane your neck around to find out.

Takeomi’s bloodshot eyes flickered with a mix of confusion and rage, a fire surging with him that was fueled by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Then his finger tightened around the trigger.

Wakasa lunged forward, tatted arm appearing in your field of vision as he reached to grab Takeomi’s wrist. 

Your breath caught in your throat as the scene unfolded before you. You held your breath. The seconds seemed to tick away, each one passing slowly as Waka bravely reached for the gun. You held your breath.

With a sudden surge of determination, like your tears had spurred him on, Waka managed to pry the gun from Takeomi’s trembling hand. The weapon clattered as it hit the ground. 

In the deafening silence that followed, Wakasa tucked a blond stray behind his ear, sending the gun sliding away from the scene with a small kick. 

Before the relief had even settled in, Takeomi turned on his heel and lunged at Wakasa with a wild swing. His alcohol-addled coordination betrayed him, however, as he tripped over his own feet – missing by an inch or two as he fell over the backside of the couch.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him tumble over the edge.

Wakasa’s head turned quickly as he called out to you. “I’m parked outside,” he hissed. “Go, now.”

He pulled a wireless key fob out of his pocket – you could see the silver detailing of the BMW logo glint beneath the dim living room lighting as he tossed it to you. 

“Wait, Waka–” You breathed, voice a hushed whisper. Still, you caught it.

“Get in the fucking car, NOW,” He commanded you. One look into his wide eyes reminded you that he wasn’t asking.

At that moment, your heart seemed to stop beating altogether. The room seemed to shrink around you. Without a second thought, you pushed yourself off of the wall and made a beeline for the door. The adrenaline surged through your veins, pushing you past your limit, pushing you towards freedom while your legs threatened to give.

You could still hear Wakasa’s voice echoing in the back of your mind, urging you to run while you had a chance. The urgency in his tone fueled you further and further, drowning out the chaos behind you. It wasn’t until you reached the door that you paused to glance back over your shoulder.

“You leave now and we’re fucking done,” Takeomi warned you. He had braced himself on his elbows.

Wakasa was stepping over the sideways couch, hair down over his back and covering his face with a hair tie stretched open on his fingers. He scooped a few handfuls of hair up behind his head. His wrists twisted with expert precision as he tied it back. His neck cracked with a quick crane of his head to the right.

Sensing what was about to go down, you turned away, throwing the door open and making your escape. You let the door shut behind you, stepping out into the cool night air. Your chest heaved for a moment.

You pressed your ear against the door, tears streaming down your cheeks as your emotions enveloped you. You felt horrible leaving Waka to fend for himself, but you would have felt worse if you went against his word.

So, pulling your clothes tight against your trembling body, you ducked and entered the street. The midnight sky blanketed Waka’s black Mercedes. It looked like it had recently been polished. 

You unlocked the door and plopped into the passenger seat. The moment you shut the door, the tears came pouring out. Your hand continued to grip the handle of the door with white-knuckled intensity. The air inside of the car felt all but suffocating, as if the weight of your actions hung from each and every molecule around you. Panic gripped you, tightening its hold with each rapid beat of your frightened heart.

Teary eyes blurred your vision. Your lover’s words echoed – again, for the millionth time – in your mind. 

“Get in the fucking car, NOW.”

He’d sounded so angered, so tired of you. How had everything unraveled so quickly?

The sound of your own uneven breathing was the only thing keeping you company in the car, ragged breaths fogging up the window to your right. Tossing the key fob into the cupholder, you turned towards that foggy window, pressing your hot cheek against its cold surface. The chill was refreshing, even if a part of you felt bad for leaving prints on Waka’s freshly cleaned windows.

You didn’t care. Your mind was alight with possibilities – with fear and uncertainty. Where would you go? What would happen to you now that the cat was out of the bag? 

Clutching at your throat, you ached for air, desperate for a moment of clarity. But the walls of Waka’s Benz seemed to close in on you. Images of the fight flashed through your mind. The reality of your actions crashed upon the desolate shores of your rotten mind like a tidal wave, overwhelming your senses and drowning you in a sea of guilt. You couldn’t escape the consequences of your betrayal, the pain that had been etched on Takeomi’s face forever imprinted in your mind.

You felt terrible.

A sob wrenched itself from the depths of your soul. Then another. 

The world was hazy, disorienting, as if reality had been warped by the weight of your guilt. For a few minutes, you sat there, mind spinning a mile a minute. You wrapped your arms around yourself, seeking temporary solace in the touch of your own skin. 

When the driver’s side door suddenly popped open, you jumped in your seat. You made quick work of your salty tears, wiping them away from your face while you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

Waka dropped into the driver's seat with an exasperated sigh. Though your eyes trained themselves on the dashboard, you could see him reach for the steering wheel out of the corner of your eye. He looked a little messy. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was in a similar state. His knuckles were dusted with a faint red hue.

After a brief pause that seemed to span for an eternity, he offered, “Buckle in.”

You did exactly that.

The car revved to life. The buttons on the dash lit up in unison. Waka gripped the steering wheel, throwing his other arm over the back of your seat and glancing behind him before turning back to the road. He pulled out of the parking spot without another word.

And then he took off.

★

The ride to your house was as silent as it was tense. It wasn’t very long, seeing as you only lived ten minutes away. That ten was more like five today, though you weren’t sure if it was because a part of you wanted to stay in this car with Waka just a little while longer or because Waka had been doing double the speed limit the whole way over.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your place, and that dreadful, gnawing feeling in your gut had returned, bringing the tension in the car back with it. You folded your hands neatly in your lap, awaiting Waka’s next words.

You were expecting him to shout at you, to lash out at you like an angry father. Like your father, like your boyfriend (ex boyfriend?).

You hadn’t been expecting him to turn the car off, and you most certainly hadn’t expected him to cast a sorrowful glance your way, brows drawn low over his pretty eyes. 

“Sorry I yelled at ‘ya,” he sighed.  What surprised you even more was the way he reached out to graze a gentle hand over your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. He added, “Take’s fuckin’ crazy. I didn’t want him hurtin’ you.”

It was becoming a bit of a chore to continue breathing normally when he was so close to you. You needed to leave now before you dug yourself a deeper hole, you decided, reaching for the door.

Waka beat you to it. In the blink of an eye, he’d reached over your lap and pulled the door shut. He kept you pinned to the seat with his arm. 

“Fuck you,” you seethed. You were frustrated, you were confused – before you knew it, you began to cry. 

“I just wanna talk,” He reaffirmed. His words did nothing to calm your nerves.

Your hands trembled as you struggled to find the words to convey how you felt. The car seemed a lot smaller than it had been only moments prior. You took a deep breath, voice quivering beneath the weight of her accusation.

“You ruined everything,” You sobbed, voice barely a notch above a whisper, eyes now locked with Waka’s in a heated standoff. The pain etched on your features made your jaw tighten.

None of this would have happened if you'd never met him. 

Waka’s expression was unreadable, a tick in his jaw was the only indicator that your words had hit the mark. “Yeah, it’s all my fault, ‘course it is,” he retorted, voice tinged with an uncharacteristically bitter tone. “Not like you willingly invited me into your room or anythin’.”

Your eyes narrowed, gaze challenging his stance even though you knew he was right. “You gave me your number first… you knew I had a boyfriend, you dick.”

Waka’s expression changed slightly, allowing you a glimpse into what you imagined was a pretty deep pool of anger. “You texted me, doll.”

He was right. Again. The realization made you break a bit inside.

Your voice quivered with unspoken emotion as you let the tears fall freely. “You’re such an ass, you know that? Why’d you have to come around and fuck me over?”

“Oh, don’t even,” he snapped back. “I risked it all for you. I did everything I could, and ‘yer gonna sit here and blame me?”

The silence that followed was heavy, settling between the both of you like a brick wall as the both of you exchanged angry gazes. The tension in the car built up.

“I never wanted it to come to this,” You spoke louder this time, heartbroken and vulnerable. “You took everything from me.”

“Don’t pretend this wasn’t a mutual decision,” He shook his head at you, chuckling humorlessly. “You are every bit as guilty ‘s I am and you know it.”

You froze. He continued.

“Deep down you know you wanted me to keep coming ‘round,” he added rather cockily. He cocked his head to the right, beckoning you to try and prove him wrong. “You loved it, didn’t ‘ya?”

Another brief pause had passed, and your anger had reached its boiling point. Without thinking, you raised your hand, bringing it towards the side of his face like you wanted to hit him. But Waka – quick on his feet, as always – reflexively caught your hand mid-swing, preventing the slap from landing.

Time seemed to freeze altogether.

Your eyes widened, hand suspended in the air a mere inch or two away from Waka’s face. His grip on your hand was firm, strong, a harsh reminder of a fact you had apparently forgotten; You didn’t stand a chance against him.

The two of you fell into an uneasy silence as you locked eyes, the intensity of the moment palpable.

Waka’s voice was steady, his grip unyielding. He looked – for a moment – as if he wanted to say something to you, remind you of who you were talking to. Before long, however, his anger softened, as did his gaze.

“I’m not sorry for what I did,” he mused. His eyes never flitted away from yours, even for a moment, even as he pulled you closer to him. “Even if I could go back ‘n change the past, I would still pick you. Every time.”

His breath was soft, mint-scented, and fresh. You felt your resolve crack. You wanted to scream at him, to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him until your lungs gave out. You hated the way he made you feel.

The car was filled with a heavy silence as your tears streamed down your reddened cheeks. Your heart squeezing painfully, you reached out, hand weakly forming a fist, and feebly punched Wakasa’s chest.

“I hate you,” You whispered, knowing you didn’t mean a word of it.

Waka’s eyes filled with sorrow as he caught your fist, gently holding it against his chest. You could feel his heart beating in synchrony with yours. A moment passed, agonizingly slow, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, a bittersweet collision of love and resentment.

Then, to your surprise, he did the unthinkable.

“Let’s stop seeing each other,” his honey-sweet croon pierced through the silence, his tone resolute.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Shoving yourself away from him, you shot him an incredulous look. The road ahead seemed to blur as you tried to wrap your head around his proposition. 

“What…?” You had asked in vain. 

The confined space of the car seemed to amplify the tension. The world outside seemed to stop spinning for a moment. This was the same car where he’d first swept you off your feet so many nights ago. Now, like some sort of cruel joke, the image before you paralleled the memory. His unexpected words hung heavy in the air.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. In fact, he looked a little down about it, like he was having doubts of his own about the decision. 

“I never should’da gotten you involved in all of this mess… I can fend for myself with him but… I know you can’t,” He said remorsefully. He seemed… genuine. When his eyes met yours, it was as if you had fallen for him a second time. “It’s too dangerous. We need to stop seein’ each other.”

In the span of a minute, Wakasa had managed to tear your heart right out of your chest.

“No…” You did a complete 180. You were so weak for him that you hated it. But, shit, how you loved the feeling. “I can’t lose you too, Waka, I…”

“I’m not asking,” He deadpanned. You felt your heart plummet.

“You’ve gone cold on me,” You whimpered. You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. You knew your blood burned for him. “Waka, that’s not fair… please.”

“I need to protect you,” Waka’s eyes were filled with bittersweet longing – like this was breaking him, like he wanted to reach out and caress you but he knew he couldn’t… just as much as you did. “I have to do this. ‘S for your own good.”

Your mind raced to make sense of the cryptic words that had spilled from his pretty lips. “‘Kasa,” you breathed.

When he spoke again, his mask cracked a little more. “You know as much ‘s I do that he’s gonna go on a manhunt. I dun’no what I’d do if somethin’ happened to you ‘cause of me, doll, I…” His voice trembled a bit. He took a moment to regain his composure. “Me leaving would be the best thing for you. For both of us.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. God, this hurt. You knew it would come eventually, but, shit, you hadn’t expected it to hurt so bad. Your voice cracked, “You’re ending things to protect me? Without giving me a choice? What happened to “if Takeomi weren’t in the picture” ?”

Wakasa squeezed his eyes shut. His hands tightened into fists. “We’re done. We can’t do this again.”

“I’m telling you we can’t see each other again. Okay?”

For a moment, Wakasa looked like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to make you stay. Worst of all, you kind of wanted him to.

Eventually, he answered, “You can pretend it never happened, but I’ll know. You’ll know.”

Your heart squeezed painfully at the memory. It’s funny how history repeats itself.

“I can’t lose what we have,” You shook your head. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, I… I don’t know what I’d do without you. We can make this work, I know we can.”

You continued after a lengthy inhale. “I can’t let this go over fear… no, not unless I know you’re doing it because you don’t want this.”

Deep down, you knew you were fighting a losing battle. Your heart ached for him. You couldn’t let this go. Not after you had given up so much just to be with him, no, not yet. Just a moment longer.

You reached out for him, hand hesitantly searching for his, seeking solace in the midst of the turmoil even though you knew you had already lost. 

You needed him. You realized that the moment the thought of a life without him had even crossed your mind. You knew it from the moment the two of you had sworn off intimacy in that shower together. No, you knew it from the first moment your eyes had met his. Wakasa had wedged his way deep into the tissue of your rotten heart.

You were in love with him.

“We can leave it behind. Start fresh,” You pleaded with him, gripping his cold hand. “Don’t you want that?”

He stayed quiet. He wanted it as much as you did, you knew that. He ached for you too. But when you squeezed his hand and it remained limp in your palm – without so much as a squeeze back – you knew it was too late. Like the life drained from the veins of a corpse, Waka had gone cold. 

Lowering your head toward his hand, you sobbed. You had never stopped crying, not since he had proposed that the two of you stop seeing each other. Yet, now, it seemed that the tears were streaming down your face rapidly. Like the torrent waters of a river cutting through earth and soil, they poured down.

“I love you, Wakasa, I can’t… I…” You trailed off, at a loss for words at the absence of his own. Who knew this would hurt so badly? “You love me too, don’t you? Tell me that you love me too.”

The car fell silent, once again bringing back the memory of you sitting here in this same spot calling things off with him only a while ago. The weight of your desires hung in the air. 

Wakasa’s eyes were full of regret. He shook his head, taking his hand out of your grasp, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You felt your heart shatter.  You recoiled as if you had been struck by some invisible, unforeseen force. Then, you let Waka’s hand slip from your touch. 

Slowly, to your surprise, he pulled you into another hug, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. Your heart thumped wildly against your chest, torn between the comfort of his touch and the impending heartbreak that lingered in the air. He was confusing you.

He muttered. With a gentle squeeze, he held you closer, “‘M sorry. This life ain’t for you, doll.”

Your body stiffened against his, still struggling to process everything that had been dumped on you in the span of two hours. You clung to him like it would be the last embrace the two of you ever shared – no,  because it would be the last embrace the two of you ever shared. 

“No, please, don’t do this to me,” You pleaded brokenly. “I need you, ‘Kasa.”

“You know I have to do this,” He held you like he shared the sentiment, like he, too, wanted to make the most of what could very well be the last time the two of you saw each other like this. “No happy endings, remember?”

After this, he would be nothing but a stranger. The thought made you want to hurl.

You had never felt so alone before.

Was this love?

Your whole body shook with the force of your sobs. Waka gently brushed your tears away. His voice, dripping with tenderness and sorrow, seeped into your soul. “This is goodbye, okay?”

No, you thought. I won’t accept this.

You pulled away from him. “You’re a fucking coward,” you whispered between sobs. “I hate you.”

Waka's eyes met yours, his gaze soft and understanding, yet it only fueled the flames of your anger. How could he claim to comprehend the depths of your pain, the intricacies of your shattered heart? His tenderness felt like a cruel mockery at that moment, intensifying your resentment towards him.

“I know,” He nodded, as if accepting your accusation, though his expression revealed a profound sadness. It was as if he had heard those words before, and carried the weight of similar accusations. But his quiet acceptance only stoked the fire of your fury, fueling the bitterness that threatened to consume you.

Yet, despite your anger, there was a part of you that couldn't help but notice the sincerity in his gaze, the flicker of pain that danced in his eyes. It was a contradiction that confused and infuriated you even further. How could he evoke such conflicting emotions within you? How could he still have the power to touch your heart, even in the midst of your rage?

Feeling a surge of defiance amidst the sea of anguish, you pulled away from him, the anger within you bubbling to the surface. With a sudden burst of energy, fueled by your fractured heart, you swung open the car door and stumbled out onto the pavement. 

"I wish I never fucking met you," you seethed, the words torn from the depths of your wounded soul. You wish you meant it.

Then you slammed the door shut.

The words hung in the air, charged with the intensity of your pain. Each syllable reverberated through the silence, cutting through the stillness of the night. And as the echoes faded into the darkness, you turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving Waka behind

With each step you took, the anger within you burned brighter, fueling your determination to distance yourself from the source of your heartache. 

A call of your name shook you out of your angered reverie. You knew you shouldn’t stop, that you should have kept marching right on. Yet, you couldn’t help but turn to look back at him one more time.

He made you feel so weak.

He had rolled the window down. In his hand, he had your pink slipper. It was then that you realized you were missing a shoe. 

“You left this,” He noted, waving it toward you.

You refused to give him that satisfaction. Shaking your head at him through teary eyes, you spat, “Keep it, asshole.”

You turned your back on him again – for the last time – and stormed off. Every stride carried you further away from the wreckage of a love that had once blossomed but now lay in ruins. The words you had spoken, filled with bitterness and regret, echoed in your mind, a desperate attempt to sever the ties that still bound you to Wakasa

Yet, deep down, beneath the layers of anger and pain, a part of you yearned for the impossible—to undo the meeting that had led to this heartache. It was a futile wish, born out of the shattered remnants of a love that had once promised happiness.

Don’t look back, you thought.

And you didn’t. Not even as you fumbled for the keys in your pocket and unlocked the door to your house. Not even when you slammed the door shut behind you. Not even when you collapsed against the door, letting a gut-wrenching sob out the moment you found yourself in the safety of your own home.

And even when you sank to the floor in tears, fighting the urge to throw that door open again and run into his arms, you found yourself repeating the phrase like a mantra.

Don’t look back.

heyyyyy 😓😓 how yall doin.... no but fr how are we feeling after this one? could this be the end of waka??? (it isn't.) im not too confident abt this chapter even tho I put my whole pussy into it... I promise the next one will be infinitely better TRUUUSSSSST!!! to make up for the way I chewed your hearts up and spat them out this chapter (sorry lol) I will say!! stay tuned for the next episode of party monster featuring cameos from sano shinichiro, daddy benkei, and another character who I can't tell u abt yet!! (also who knows we may or may not get a chapter from wakas pov.... who knows.... u aint hear it from me) yk the drill tho, drop ur thoughts predictions and requests in the comments, I love listening to yall ;)) see u next chapter!! <33

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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#party monster ⋆ ★ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa x you #wakasa imaushi smut #wakasa smut #wakasa imaushi fluff #wakasa fluff #wakasa angst #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #hi if ur reading this far ily #benkei #sanoshinichiro #takeomi akashi #sanomanjiro #tenjiku #three deities arc #bonten #plz forgive me lol

[tearsucry]

— °˖ ⊹ ꒰ 🌿 ꒱ tearing up old wounds ; addison montgomery (grey’s anatomy)

#.                   ( season 3 episode 14 ) you woke up after inhaling the neuro toxic from the colon cancer patient’s surgery, and addison was stupid enough to run in after the patient’s anesthesia was wearing off, ripping up bandages from old wounds

content warning;      suggestive content, afab reader, implied homewrecker! reader, age-gap (reader is in the same intern year as meredith), mention of surgeries, blood, intubation,

a/n.                                        I had this little idea while rewatching the show, I fell in love with addison all over again, ugh she is so hot- enjoy

everything was foggy, you still felt nauseous, you were still shivering even under the thick blanket, and the oxygen mask on your face felt more suffocating than the heavy feeling in your chest. blinking, moving your head around and trying to figure out where the heck you are.

“I thought you were on burk’s service today.” you heard an all too familiar voice coming from your side, faint, and sort of mumbled, but you knew who it was, you knew exactly who it was. you felt weak, struggled to move your hand up to your face to rub your eyes, to help yourself to see better.

“you went in there…” you croak, taking a shaky breath in as you spot her green eyes in the haze of your vision. you gulp again, trying to compensate for how dry your nose and mouth feel because of the oxygen mask. she is right in front of you, if you could just

you can tell by her blurry appearance and her messy red hair. she looks so tired and worn out, like every muscle in her body aches, just like yours does, and just like that realization makes you wonder if maybe you should have requested to stay on her service, maybe this whole thing wouldn't have happened with the two of you. “I did.” she whispers, her throat hoarse and scratchy.

“but i couldn't watch her suffer, fight against the intubation like that..."  her voice trails off, and her hand reaches out for you, as if she wants to touch your face, caress your cheek but can't bring herself to do it. "i couldn't let her feel so scared, miserable." she sits up and leans on the bed next to you, reaching out to tuck some strand of hair behind your ear. “what do you mean?” you ask, not understanding whatever she is hinting at. you'd know because you were in her position once after your surgery, the surgery you had to get after a psych patient went rogue, dressing up as another surgeon then going around, and stabbing people in the stomach.

but then you remember-

she was there when you were fighting against the intubation, you remember it clearly. the same green eyes were staring at you, frightened above the rim of the surgical mask. the same lips formed the words, "you will be okay," over and over again. you try hard not to cry as you recall the events, because even though you are happy, you're also afraid.

"can we... can you lay next to me?"  you finally manage to say, because you're starting to become restless from being trapped under this blanket, sitting still isn't really appealing anymore. "of course, i'm here darling." she smiles softly, and you could swear you're seeing her tears glisten in the dim light of the room.

addison shifts in her bed again, putting the green strap around her head then getting up to lay next to you on your bed. you catch doctor bailey rolling her eyes at the nurse's station before coming over and closing the curtain around the two of you.  your breathing has gotten steadier, your heart feels calmer, and you close your eyes slowly as you settle into her embrace, inhaling deeply the scent of her scrubs, smelling like a freshly sterilized operating room.

her heartbeat slows down to match the beat of your own and you sigh contently, relaxing in her arms. “thank you.” you whisper quietly. she kisses the top of your head. you don’t think there is anything she wouldn’t give to make sure you are alright. “no need to thank me, sweetheart.” she murmurs softly, wrapping her arm around you tighter. your fingers are laced together now, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

#— created by 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐚☆ #addison montgomery x reader #addison montgomery x y/n #addison montgomery x reader smut #addison montgomery x you #grey's anatomy x reader smut #grey's anatomy x reader #addison montgomery #addison montgomery smut #addison montgomery x female reader

[sashaisready]

Chapter Twelve - It's beautiful, just like the rest of you

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Warning: The smut continues 😵‍💫

(gif does not represent how reader looks!)

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 13

Series Masterlist

Of course Bucky’s townhouse is enormous, you expected nothing less. There are men pitched up around the front keeping watch as you walk up to the entrance, Bucky keeping a possessively firm arm on your waist as you go by. Men are everywhere actually, you pass them in the hallways and see glimpses of them in the rooms you walk by. It’s not clear what they’re all doing here but you don’t care to ask. It’s clear this is some sort of base for all of their operations.

“Home sweet home” he says softly.

The house is modern, spacious, it radiates money and luxury without being gaudy. It seems to be two floors, maybe three. Marble counters, exposed wooden floors. Big bay windows and period features. High fences outside keep out prying eyes and you notice rows of security cameras leaving no blind spots. You knew Bucky had money of course, but seeing it all first-hand almost leaves you light headed.

Bucky strolls in confidently, king of the castle. The men nod at him in acknowledgement but then scuttle out of his way. The house suddenly goes quiet, as if word of your arrival has spread and the numerous occupants have made themselves scarce.

“You want anything to drink?” he asks as he hand moves to your hip.

You smile, suddenly anxious as everything catches up with you. The haze from your alcohol and your orgasm have finally worn off and you feel stone cold sober, slightly shocked that somehow you’ve ended up here of all places. With Bucky. After he made you come on his fingers in the back of his chauffeured car.

How did this happen…?

You’re tempted to have another drink to calm your nerves but you don’t want to get sick again, and you know you want to be lucid for whatever happens next.

“Maybe just some water?”

He gestures to one of his men who nods and disappears down the hallway, emerging a moment later with a glass bottle of chilled still water and two glasses. Bucky takes them and leads you up the grand stairs to the master bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot as he places the water and glasses on the nightstand.

He pours you a glass and you sip it leisurely as you take in your new surroundings. The room is enormous, a four poster bed in the centre. Stylish grey walls, monochromatic furnishings and soft lighting throughout. A huge bay window peeking out over the city.

All of your hesitations melt away as he kisses you again, you moan softly against him and kiss him back. It’s as if you’re back in the club office once more. You’re suddenly desperate for him, slamming the glass down onto the dresser. You roughly tug his jacket down his arms and begin to remove his tie without breaking the kiss. You feel him smile against your mouth, like the cat who got the cream, clearly overjoyed with your urgency for him.

He’s shirtless in a matter of seconds and you take a second to gaze at his broad chest. You’re in awe of his biceps, his tight abs, it’s as if he’s carved from marble. He watches you carefully as you trace your fingers across his skin, darting over scars and welts and long healed wounds. His slick exterior may hide the true nature of his business but his body betrays it, his torso a battleground, a graveyard of past fights and struggles. The flesh atop his metal arm is a mesh of angry scar tissue and you feel a flash of empathy for him as you think about the trauma of losing a limb. You place soft kisses over his shoulder and spread them across his body, your tenderness a contrast to the ghosts of past violence. He briefly closes his eyes and allows you to sweep him away, not normally permitting such a display of intimacy, even in his own bedroom.

You trace your fingers where metal meets flesh on his shoulder and look up at him questioningly.

“Not the prettiest story…” he whispers almost shyly as he flexes the arm.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to” you assure him as you grasp his metal bicep, stroking it with tender affection.

“It’s beautiful, just like the rest of you” you murmur.

He blinks at that, following you attentively as you slather more kisses across his torso. Nobody had ever called him beautiful before.

He finds your mouth again and quick hands discover the hem of your dress, pulling it up over your head and leaving you standing in your underwear. You step out of your shoes as he takes a moment to drink you in fully, his eyes alight with longing as he stares at you unabashed. Your hands fumble with his belt as he kisses your neck, his hands in your hair. You remove his belt and unzip his fly before he throws his slacks down to his ankles and steps out of them. You surge into him and kiss his mouth as he picks you up suddenly by your thighs, holding you in the air and causing you to squeak in surprise.

He carries you to the bed as if you’re weightless, tumbling onto the mattress with you as he gropes and caresses every inch of your body. Exploring and studying you. Your bra has been unclasped with you barely noticing and he groans as he takes your breasts in his hands, rolling each nipple with his thumb and taking them in his mouth. You close your eyes as you sink into the luxurious sheets and let the pleasure of his touch wash over you. He’s on top of you now, kissing you like a man starved. His skin is searing against yours and you realise you’re mewling again.

You flip him onto his back and straddle him, savouring the feeling of his arousal pushing hard between your thighs. You rock your hips gently and he hums at the friction. You shift backwards onto the bed and tug at the sides of his black boxers, pulling them down his strong thighs as you finally release his cock. Of course he’s huge, no surprises there. You look up at him and he winks at you proudly, you roll your eyes as you smile at his arrogance.

His cockiness vanishes when you take him firmly in your hand, pumping the shaft a couple of times and provoking a flustered gasp from his lips. You don’t give him time to recover before you take his tip into your mouth, your tongue spreading across the head as you work your way down. He flinches and groans pitifully and you realise this is going to be fun.

Working your hand and mouth in tandem you slide him into your throat, taking your time to adjust to his size. You gag slightly which makes him hiss as your throat spasms around him, but you soon manage to get the balance right and find your rhythm - steadily moving your mouth up and down. Spit runs down the sides of your mouth and you’re sure your mascara is running but you know it’s making him feel good based on the sounds he’s making.

You peek up at him and he’s in ecstasy, his eyes are screwed shut and his hands have gathered fistfuls of sheet as he pants and babbles under his breath. You feel powerful in that moment, you may be in the submissive position but you’ve reduced the notorious James ‘Bucky’ Barnes to a gibbering wreck, coming undone before you. He must feel your gaze on him as he opens his eyes and looks down at you, clearly drunk on the sensation. You can’t resist a wink up at him knowing how you must look wrapped around him and he groans even louder.

“Baby…you feel so good. Doll…you’re killin’ me” he says breathily as you bask in his praise. “Fuck. You’re amazing…you’re…”

You go for your showstopper and move him deeper down your throat, carefully breathing through your nose and relaxing your mouth as you manage to sheath him almost entirely, your face pressed against his crotch as you steady yourself on his thighs. You gag slightly but manage to work through it as Bucky cries out.

He whips up from the mattress suddenly and wrenches your shoulders towards him, causing you to squeal in surprise as he pulls himself out of your mouth, his cock glistening with salvia. He tugs you roughly up on top of him and kisses you forcefully.

“That was incredible, Doll” he whispers between kisses, his voice low with lust. His eyes suddenly seem dark, stormy. You feel like prey who has fallen into her predator’s lap.

“But as much as I’d love to blow in your perfect mouth, I’m not done with your yet…”

You barely catch your breath as he effortlessly flips you over, his hands ripping your underwear down your legs as he tosses them aside. “Hello again” he says quietly and runs a digit through your folds, the remains of your last orgasm settling on his finger tip.

He takes a thigh in each of his large hands and lethargically runs his tongue from your clit down to your entrance in an experimental test. Your body jerks suddenly as his movement draws a shriek from you. He looks back up at you hungrily and you immediately understand he’s relishing being back in control.

It starts slowly, gentle nibbles on your bundle of nerves accompanied by kitten licks. You moan softly, allowing yourself to go limp as your stomach begins to knot. But then he doesn’t hold back, his tongue beginning an assault of pleasure upon you that feels so good you can barely handle it. You instinctively try to clamp your legs together but his grip on your thighs tightens, making it clear he has no intention of slowing down. Your soft moans become desperate cries and you reach for one of the bed’s wooden posts, gripping so hard that your knuckles go white. The pressure in your belly intensifies and you feel dizzy with the sensation. Bucky looks up at you but you don’t even notice as you throw your head back into the pillow. You can practically feel his smirk against you, his smugness radiating through him.

“Oh Buck…Oh God…” you manage to utter as you bite down on your lip. “That feels so good. Oh fuck, oh God..."

Your eyes fling open again as you’re about to slip over the edge and you cry out to him desperately.

“Please Bucky…please fuck me. I can’t wait any longer” you plead. “I want you to feel me come”.

He moves quicker than you ever thought possible, his tight grip on your legs switching to your shoulders as he pulls himself up your body. He lines himself up at your entrance with one hand and then clutches your thigh with the other.

“I love to hear you beg, Doll” he growls into your ear. He doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing that eagerness in your voice.

He pushes himself inside of you and you both whine at the feeling as he bottoms out. Despite how wet you are it still stings, but in the best possible way. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full in your life. Bucky begins to thrust, slowly at first to ensure you can take him, but his pace steadily increases as he watches your writhe and squirm beneath him. It feels better than you’d ever imagined, you’re almost woozy from the feeling.

You feel your climax building again and suddenly everything becomes a bit more frantic. You’re both pawing at each other’s bodies, teeth and lips clashing as the room echoes with your collective moans. It’s clumsy and chaotic, frenzied and frenetic.

“You feel so tight…so perfect, Doll” Bucky manages to utter as he holds you in place by your hip. His grip is so tight you wonder if there will be a mark there in the morning.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…”

“Bucky…” is all you’re breathlessly able to respond.

“You’re always teasing me in the bakery…I just keep thinking about taking you across the counter…Wanna lick that frosting off of you…” he grunts.

You hum and pull his face to yours. “Fuck me from behind” you command through heavy lids.

He grins and slides out of you momentarily, grabbing your wrists and pulling you up onto your knees. He gives you a quick kiss before manoeuvring himself behind you. He grabs your hips and bends you forward as you move onto all fours, one hand gripping the bed frame to support yourself and the other pawing at the sheets. You’re practically panting with anticipation as he slips onto his knees. His metal hand runs admiringly over your ass, a curling a finger underneath to graze your clit which makes you cry out.

Then he presses himself into you and you gasp as he passes the threshold. If he felt big in missionary then feeling him like this is indescribable. There’s no adjustment period this time, he begins to jerk his hips and piston in and out of you, admiring the jiggle of your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing your flesh and savouring the view. You are yelping with each thrust, your mind cloudy and blurred. Your climax builds again and you arch your back which allows Bucky to move even deeper, he moans as he’s buried further inside. You bite your lip as your fists clench, tangling the sheets underneath you.

“You like that, Doll?” he hisses. “Is this what you wanted? You dirty girl. Dirty just for me”.

But you can’t reply, you just nod blearily and mutter nonsense into the air.

Bucky moves a hand forward and teases your clit with his finger as he drives himself into you. That’s the final straw and you come hard around him, blasting into space as you cry out. You knees wobble and you slip down onto your elbows, drunk on the aftershocks. You press your face down into the mattress, the darkness a relief as your senses fire into overdrive. The way your pussy pulsates means you clamp down hard on Bucky and his release follows close behind yours, his eyes rolling back as he bares his teeth and stuttered breaths leave him. You feel the warmth of him deep inside of you as his hips roll to a stop.

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sweet and sour fic

[abisbookshelf]

100+ songs that remind me of buddie: the ship between evan "buck" buckley + eddie diaz from 9-1-1 (tv show)

photograph - ed sheeran

sucker - jonas brothers

fix you - coldplay

clarity - zedd & foxes

everybody talks - neon trees

earned it (fifty shades of grey) - the weeknd

cardigan - taylor swift

august - taylor swift

the 30th - billie eilish

sunsetz - cigarettes after sex

sweet - cigarettes after sex

K. - cigarettes after sex

love of my life - harry styles

i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

the way i loved you (taylor's version) - taylor swift

everything has changed (taylor's version) - taylor swift & ed sheeran

fine line - harry styles

watching him fade away - mac demarco

jealousy, jealousy - olivia rodrigo

apocalypse - cigarettes after sex

sofia - clairo

we fell in love in october - girl in red

ribs - lorde

i love you so - the walters

until i found you - stephen sanchez & em beihold

golden hour - JVKE

crush - cigarettes after sex

karma - taylor swift

bags - clairo

getaway car - taylor swift

don't blame me - taylor swift

issues - julia micheals

heavenly - cigarettes after sex

memories - conan gray

lay all your love on me - ABBA

head over heels - ABBA

ceilings - lizzy mcalpine

all i wanted - paramore

i love you - billie eilish

heather - conan gray

what a time - julia micheals & niall horan

make up your mind - florence + the machine

look after you - the fray

sparks - coldplay

king of my heart - taylor swift

false god - taylor swift

rumour has it - adele

the great war - taylor swift

maroon - taylor swift

gorgeous - taylor swift

lovers rock - TV girl

why'd you only call me when you're high? - arctic monkeys

beautiful boy (darling boy) remastered 2010 - john lennon

daylight - david kushner

halley's comet - billie eilish

can't feel my face - the weeknd

shameless - camila cabello

ME! - taylor swift & brendon urie of panic! at the disco

all too well (10 minute version - taylor's version) - taylor swift

this love (taylor's version) - taylor swift

enchanted (taylor's version) - taylor swift

midnight rain - taylor swift

the 1 - taylor swift

kiss me - ed sheeran

mine (taylor's version) - taylor swift

lavender haze - taylor swift

hits different - taylor swift

afterglow - taylor swift

lover - taylor swift

red (taylor's version) - taylor swift

i don't wanna live forever (fifty shades darker) - ZAYN & taylor swift

style (taylor's version) - taylor swift

"slut!" (taylor's version - from the vault) - taylor swift

daylight - taylor swift

wildest dreams (taylor's version) - taylor swift

how you get the girl (taylor's version) - taylor swift

you are in love (taylor's version) - taylor swift

golden - harry styles

say yes to heaven - lana del rey

lover (remix) - taylor swift & shawn mendes

training wheels - melanie martinez

scott screet - phoebe bridgers

glue song - beabadoobee

kiss me - sixpence none the richer

something just like this - the chainsmokers & coldplay

still into you - paramore

those eyes - new west

can't take my eyes off you - boys town gang

angeleyes - ABBA

because i liked a boy - sabrina carpenter

sleep it off - niki & gabi

never felt so alone - labrinth

chemtrails over the country club - lana del rey

only love can hurt like this - paloma faith

my love mine all mine - mitski

moment in the sun - sunflower bean

you're losing me (from the vault) - taylor swift

paris - taylor swift

the lucky one (taylor's version) - taylor swift

snap out of it - arctic monkeys

labyrinth - taylor swift

starlight (taylor's version) - taylor swift

company - justin bieber

never really over - katy perry

i lived - onerepublic

the night we met - lord huron

heart to heart - mac demarco

rises the moon - liana flores

about you - the 1975

fight or flight - conan gray

deja vu - olivia rodrigo

you found me - the fray

paris - the chainsmokers

murder on the dancefloor - sophie ellis-bextor

want to want me - jason derulo

hands to myself - selena gomez

late night talking - harry styles

astronomy - conan gray

the only exception - paramore

can't help falling in love - elvis presley

the boy is mine - brandy & monica

last dance - scratch massive & maud geffray

ur so pretty - wasia project

34+35 - ariana grande

good days - SZA

falling in love - cigarettes after sex

keep on loving you - cigarettes after sex

marry you - bruno mars

walk me home - p!nk

people help the people - birdy

now that we don't talk (taylor's version - from the vault) - taylor swift

suburban legends (taylor's version - from the vault) - taylor swift

open arms - SZA & travis scott

movies - conan gray

let the light in - lana del rey & father john misty

margaret - lana del rey & bleachers

need you now - lady A

i miss you, i'm sorry - gracie abrams

sex on fire - kings of leon

end of beginning - djo

21 - gracie abrams

only you - cheat codes & little mix

mr. loverman - ricky montgomery

lust for life - lana del rey & the weeknd

saturn - SZA

lover (live from paris) - taylor swift

dress - taylor swift

waiting room - phoebe bridgers

kiss you - one direction

someone to you - BANNERS

little freak - harry styles

i hear a symphony - cody fry

do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys

till forever falls apart - ashe & FINNEAS

1 step forward, 3 steps back - olivia rodrigo

like real people do - hozier

out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

somewhere only we know - keane

when we were young - adele

maps - maroon 5

young and beautiful - lana del rey

touch tank - quinnie

i found - amber run

invisible string - taylor swift

epiphany - taylor swift

daylight - taylor swift

ivy - taylor swift

sign of the times - harry styles

adore you - harry styles

sunflower, vol.6 - harry styles

let me love you (until you learn to love yourself) - glee cast (version)

somewhere only we know - glee cast (version)

yellow - coldplay

pretty boy - the neighbourhood

the beach - the neighbourhood

whatta man - salt n pepa & en vogue

endgame - taylor swift, ed sheeran & future

delicate - taylor swift

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored - ariana grande

forever winter (taylor's version - from the vault) - taylor swift

wish you were gay - billie eilish

ivy - frank ocean

i like me better - lauv

toothbrush - DNCE

best friend - rex orange county

no control - one direction

here is the link to the playlist on spofity: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7mpIWOTplXGR7vR4gT34Yi

if you have any other recommendations for songs please let me know and they will go straight into the playlist. also, please don't be disrespectful and this is a reminder that these are my opinions, i hope that you enjoy the playlist!! 💌🤍💋

#buddie #911 abc #911 show #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #911 on abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buck and eddie #buddie 911 #tommy kinard #buck and tommy #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #gay #bisexual supremacy #bi buck #bisexuality #bisexual buck #bisexual #i ship these two so hard #evan buckley x eddie diaz #911 buddie #9 1 1 abc #gay couple #gay love #fanon #if you dont like it dont make it a problem

[thatforkedroad]

the tearing at her soul

Summary: how Barriss Offee survives order 66

---

It doesn’t take long for the crying and yelping to blend into the background, as if they were as much a part of the prison’s structure as the metallic grey walls or the forcefield reinforced doors. There’s always something happening here, always someone remembering their old life or someone tempting the hand of an overzealous guard. Everyone — prisoners and guards alike — just gets used to the noise and keeps their head down. 

So when Barriss Offee doubles over in pain with a phantom scream locked in her throat, the guards outside don't even react. 

Barriss clutches — scrapes at — her heart as if that might ease the tearing at her soul. At first, she thinks she's dying. She must be. Someone has poisoned her food or pumped the air full of toxins or plunged a secret saber through her chest because there is no other possible explanation, not for the life-rending void bursting through every part of her. She is being autopsied and hollowed out from the inside out and all she can do is cry. 

The prey-animal blood haze passes and Barriss realises she's not dying; the galaxy is. It is being burned to ash and she is feeling every second of its suffering and nobody but her even seems to realise. The pain is not hers but it is so very close and it is bigger than anything Barriss has ever known. She wants to warn the men outside that something is happening, something is coming, but her throat refuses to cooperate. 

After minutes or hours or days, the pain recedes. It dribbles away, like a tsunami returning to its ocean, and in its wake there is an emptiness Barriss cannot name. She does not understand what is lost, not yet, but she knows that something in the galaxy’s structure has been shattered. 

— 

She was told, at the start, that this place was temporary. That’s why there’s so little in the cell, why she is kept in complete isolation. They were going to move her somewhere more secure soon, once they worked out the security plans. A few years ago, she would have spent mere days here. But the war gets in the way of everything — even transfers of dangerous terrorists — and so whatever they planned, it never happens. 

In a way, they were right; she does eventually find herself in a new prison, but she stays in the exact same cell. She’s no longer in Republic prison on Coruscant; she’s in an Imperial one. The changes are gradual; at first it’s the name, next it’s the insignias branded on the walls outside her cell. She notices less and less of the guards are painted maroon, replaced with varying soldiers who have numbers, not nicknames.

It’s one of the new guards she works up the courage to finally ask what happened, what this new Empire is that she hears over the loudspeakers. He doesn’t beat or electrocute her like she expected; he seems more confused by the question than anything. He explains it as if he were explaining a sunset to someone who’d never seen one, like it’s something that everyone should know, something natural. 

Distantly, Barriss thinks he must not know who she is — who she was. He explains in the bluntest, blandest terms and does not make a single comment when he gives a name to the night of her greatest pain. 

The Purge, he calls it. A dark and glorious birthday for the fledgeling Empire. With their strongest enemies dead, the Jedi betrayed the Republic and tried to assassinate the Chancellor — now Emperor. He lived and ordered the loyal Grand Clone Army to enact justice on its so-called peacekeepers. The Jedi are gone and they said the war’s over, but there are still Separatists. There are still campaigns in half the galaxy, but they don’t have rations or power cuts anymore. Aside from that nothing has changed under the Empire, he tells her, before he remembers himself and tells her to quiet down and step away from the cell door. 

Barriss barely hears the command over the thunder of blood in her ears. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed and she had no idea. She didn't agree with what they had become in the war, didn’t agree with the idea of Jedi generals and commanding warriors, but this… 

She knows in her hollowed-out heart that this is not true. The Jedi were made into soldiers, not power-hungry assassins. They could not have fallen this far, not yet. No Jedi would… They were only trying to free themselves from the thing that was eating them, corrupting them like a bled-out kyber. Could nobody see that? 

Barriss shook her head. She knew the Jedi would fall to the Republic one day, she just… didn’t expect it to happen like this. She expected years of solid decay, like the rotting of a living corpse, until the Order could no longer recognise itself. She thought its death would happen over years, maybe even decades. Yet all it took was one night and a knife in the back.

And now everything she fought to save is gone. 

Part of her hisses how dare you mourn, after everything you did to them. How dare you mourn, after everything you did to her. 

She wishes she could listen, but her grief pushes far heavier than her guilt. Instead, she tugs at the torn bonds in her soul, reaches through the empty expanse where ten thousand lives once sung bright, and calls. She calls and calls and screams and howls and calls. 

Nothing calls back. 

Soon enough, she begins to mourn herself. Every time she hears a too-heavy footstep, her heart spikes in panic. They’re coming for her too. The Republic used the Jedi for their power and the Empire killed them for it. Barriss might not be a Jedi now, but she was raised as one. She has that power. She is a threat. She is a loose thread and she must be cut. 

They’re coming for her too. It’s only a matter of time. 

—

She thinks she is less a person and more a thing by now. Hollowed out by isolation and preparation and an overwhelming knowledge of things she should never have had to understand. 

At first she is resigned. She sits and she waits and she watches the door, flinching every time a new food tray clatters in. All she registers is the fear of footsteps and the electric-fast beat of her heart. There is no room in this small, dark cell for anything but panic. 

She continues in this state, somewhere between life and death. She eats only when her stomach calls louder than her terror, moves only 

It’s soon. It has to be soon. 

She barely sleeps, but she dreams one night. It’s the first in months that doesn’t jolt her awake, heaving in a cold sweat. She dreams of the gardens, untouched by death and war, a calm in the middle of the chaotic city. She dreams of the Temple’s quiet, of her master’s instruction, of an orange-skinned and pointy-toothed grin. She dreams. 

She wakes up feeling — feeling, how novel! — a half-washed heartache. She knows they are dead. She knows she will never enter that Temple again, never hear another lesson or another sweet, honey-like laugh. She is going to die like them, this much she knows. But that morning she decides she will face death as her people did, with dignity and in strength. She runs through stances holding nothing. She meditates and ignores the Force’s black silence. It does not make her feel any less a ghost, but it ties her down. She memorises the guards’ shift changes and their footsteps, one-two-heavy down the hall. 

She does not hope. She does not expect anything to come of her memorisation, but there is nothing else to do but listen. 

— 

In the end, all that memorisation is for nothing. 

She blinks against the hallway light when they finally open her cell, wincing at the change in environment. A prim officer holding a datapad comes into focus, followed by a small squad of troopers. 

Barriss stills. She thinks this is it. They’ve come for me. 

But the troopers keep their guns across their chests. The officer clears his throat and reads a command; you’re being transferred, he tells her. She blinks dumbly. 

The officer’s mouth flattens in a mix of disappointment and boredom. She half-thinks he’ll repeat it — slower, like her brain has turned into the sludge they feed her. But he wants to get the job done; he silently gestures and two troopers move forward to cuff her routinely. They guide her out the cell and into the hall that she hasn’t seen in full in four years. 

The officer leaves the group as they turn down the hall, and she realises there are only four guards surrounding her. All they have are guns and flimsy white armour, shinier than the clones’ armour ever was. Have the Jedi been dead so long that the Empire has forgotten their danger? Or is it only that Barriss has been buried too deep for them to remember her or what she was?

She risks asking them where they’re taking her and she’s met with unsure silence. They’re just grunts, she supposes; the new Empire does not need its cogs to understand the machine. 

She considers waiting for a shipyard or a secondary location, but she has waited years for this opportunity; she will not waste it looking for a better one. The Republic forced her to be a warrior and the Empire forced her to be something craftier. She waits only for the bell that calls a shift change. THe flimsy guards fall like cards under the Force and she is gone before any alarms so much as think of blaring. 

She’s sure they notice something soon enough, but she's fled through the city before and this time there are no vengeant Jedi masters to find her. She steals a cloak from one stall and a headscarf from another, and blends right into the busy Coruscanti night. 

It takes little more than a nudge of his mind to convince the harbour master that she's meant allowed in, and more importantly allowed onto this cargo transport. She’ll switch ships at the next spaceport, stay running until her legs can’t take her any further.

In the later hours of travel, as the cargo around her shudders through hyperspace, her mind wanders to the negligence of her escape. Ahsoka has — or had. Ahsoka must have rejoined the Order after Barriss confessed and Ahsoka was exonerated, she and her master were probably executed too. But Ahsoka has-or-had friends in the Senate; she knows-or-knew all about bureaucracy and the drawn-out processes of politics, even if she claimed not to understand it when she tried to explain them to Barriss. Ahsoka would have known a thing or two about how an organisation could forget a prisoner like this. If she were here, sitting next to Barriss on this cargo carrier headed to who-knows-where, she would be theorising rapidly, her hands and eyes flitting about like living static. 

Barriss’ smile at the thought dies as fast as it appeared. It doesn’t matter that she’s free; she’s never going to see Ahsoka’s smirk or wild hands or hear her laugh again. She and her master were fast and bold Jedi, but they were closer to their soldiers than most. They never would have seen it coming. 

Barriss had tried to tell Ahsoka that she was too trusting.

But she doesn’t want to admonish her friend or try to blame her or even roll her eyes at her. Barriss misses her friend. Misses her more than she thought her heart capable of, and alll she wants to do now is apologise. Or frame her better, so Ahsoka could have survived in Barriss’ place instead of being shot in the head by her own troops. Ahsoka deserved better. 

But instead, it's Barriss who is sat in the shadow of a cargo crate headed to who-knows-where. A new plan forms alongside her directive to run. She must not take great risks and she must hide — but that does not mean she must be useless. She will help weaken the Empire, bit by bit, bolt by bolt, until it is weak enough to stab in the back. 

She no longer wonders why the Force gave the burden of survival to a traitor like her. The Jedi taught against revenge, taught of peace and forgiveness, yet it is too late to save these teachings. It is far too late to save them. 

But Barriss is certain, more than she has ever been of anything, it is not too late to avenge them. 

#barriss offee #total write forever #fic