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nanaslutt · 5 months

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Bodyswap w/ Gojo part 2

part 1, here

Contains: fem reader, caught masturbating, teasing, dirty talk, rough sex :3, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, kinda selfcest?? (they’re in each others body’s while they fuck), spanking

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Ahh! F-fuck, mmm-" Gojo's voice could be heard from the other side of the door, with squelching accompanying the lewd moans into the hallway. Gojo pressed your body up to the door quietly, listening to you use his body to get off after telling him to not even look at yours in the shower. Someone's a little hypocrite~ he internally cooed, fighting back a giggle.

As full of Gojo was of himself, he wasn't the type of guy to get off on his own moans, but he did find it arousing that you were in his body and were using him like some slut for your own pleasure. He waited patiently until he heard his body cum, still pressed against the door until the sighing and shuffling on the other side of the door died before he knocked to announce his arrival.

Here the two of you lie, in your room in silence while Gojo stares at the poorly tucked away cum rag you used to clean up your mess under your bed. "Ahh~ I always feel so much better after a shower." He sighs, starting up a conversation. "Mmm, me too." You mumbled, still staring at the ceiling from your place on the bed. "Yeah? Why don't you go take one?" He asked, walking over to your bed and making himself comfortable as he lay against your pillows.

"Gross Satoru, I'm not taking a shower in this body, unless I have to.. and who said you could sit on my bed?" You chastized, setting yourself up on your forearms to look at him, finding that it was still hard to make eye contact. Every time you did you were reminded of what a pervert you had been, and how you probably almost got caught.

"No? You don't feel dirty?" He asked pouting out his bottom lip teasingly, insistent on keeping his eyes glued to yours even tho yours tried to avoid his like the plague. "Why would I feel dirty? You had your infinity on during the fight, you're spotless." You rambled. "Maybe, but don't you feel the need to wash up after you cum?" He said, leaning your head in his hands as he smiled at you from under your lashes.

You felt your entire body heat up at his words, you had the same feeling as when you took one too many candies as a kid and your parents called you out for it. You could feel your face heat up and your palms become sweaty. You tried to play dumb, making brief eye contact with your body and noticing the smug look Gojo had manipulated on its face, before plopping your head back down on the bed as you laid flat and made yourself at home by staring at the ceiling once more.

"W-why is that relevant?" You questioned, hoping somehow that Gojo hadn't somehow caught on to what you did in his body, you thought you had been so careful! "Playing coy doesn't sound good when it's coming from my voice~" He said, dragging out his words for emphasis as he sat straight, looking down at his form as you lay still on the bed. Fuck, how did his technique work again? He could teleport, right, maybe if you just closed your eyes realllly hard and focused you could excape this horribly awkward conversation.

You tried, you really did, but to no avail. When you opened your eyes you were still looking at your tan ceiling, and you still saw your body looking down at you through your peripherals. "Did it feel good?" He asked, making your face heat up. "It sounded like it felt good." He giggled. "Y-you were listening?" You gasped, looking into your eyes now as the two of you kept eye contact. "I don't think that really matters when you violated my body when I was away~" He cooed, making a strong point. You still couldn't help but feel embarrassed thinking about how much me might've heard.

"S-Satoru I'm sorry, really, I have no excuses I just- fuck I don't even know what came over me." You blushed, trying to keep eye contact with yourself to seem more sincere as you spoke to him. "Ahh~ I cant believe you would do this after you yelled at me to not even look at your body~" He said dramatically, wrapping your arms around your body to block off your view and make you look smaller as he pretended to feel violated.

The white-haired man was having so much fun right now, it wasn't every day he got to tease you like this, so he figured why not drag it out a bit. You started apologizing profusely, saying over and over how sorry you were before your own laugh cut you off. "S-sorry." He stuttered through a laugh, whipping his own smile off your face as he dropped your chin down to look at you in faux seriousness. Something told you he didn't care as much as he said he did.

"It's amusing to hear you grovel like this, I didn't mean to laugh out loud." He confessed, making your face heat up in annoyance. You were mad that you had zero ground to chastise him right now as if he really was upset about this whole thing, you didn't want to make it any worse. "It did feel good though right?" He asked again, biting your lip as he scooted closer to his body. "My cock is sooo sensitive I bet you were having a field day~ I don't blame you for not being able to stop~" He sympathized, using your hand to rub over his abs, a sensation that made your skin tingle under his touch.

"S-satoru-" You tried to interrupt him, "Did you play with my balls too? I never last long when I do that." He added, lowering his hand to rub over his v-line as he watched the tent in his pants grow slowly and steadily at his words. "Satoru what are you d-doing?" You managed to ask, his voice coming out meek and submissive. The man hummed, caressing his hand lower and lower until he reached the band of his sweats, teasing your fingertips under the waistline.

"I guess I'm just a little envious that you got to experience cumming in my body, and I didn't even get to look at yours~" He pouted, playing dumb. He made a good point, you had perved out on his own body like this when you set such strict rules for him, that he sounded like he actually followed. "So what does that mean?" You asked hesitantly, swallowing hard when he pulled back his pants and boxers before letting them snap back against your skin. "Well.. you must be a little curious to see what fucking something other than my hand feels like, right?" He asked, hitting the nail on the head.

"Satoru if you're talking about us having sex right now I don't-" Your voice cut you off, you felt a hand start to rub in tantalizing circles over the tent in your pants, and you quickly dropped your gaze away from your face to watch. "That's exactly what I had in mind~" He cooed, tilting his head at you while he rubbed his cock in your smaller hand. "Isn't that.. going to be uncomfortable?" You asked, surprising Gojo when you weren't immediately put off by the idea, the hand that was rubbing his cock definitely aiding in your answer.

"Does it feel uncomfortable?" He asked, sliding his hand under the waistband of his boxers as he gripped his cock with your hand and started stroking it directly. As good as pleasure felt in your body, he wished he could feel you touch his cock like this, but maybe after this, he would have an easier time getting you into bed when things went back to normal. "Hmm? Does it?" He cooed in your voice, making you blush at how seductive you sounded.

"F-feels good but-" You choked out through a moan, your breath hitching when Gojo slung your body to sit on top of himself as he used your free hand to cover his mouth, stopping your words. "Just look at me in the mirror if fucking your body is too weird~" He giggled, watching as your eyes looked past your body sitting on top of you as you made eye contact with Gojo's body in the mirror. "I for one don't mind looking at myself like this, I've definitely had a wet dream about this before." He giggled, easing your nerves at his unseriousness, you doubted he was joking either.

He released the hand that was covering your mouth as he pulled his boxers down enough for his dripping cock to spring out. "Fuck, are you that wet because of the situation, or is that all my body's doing?" He laughed, rubbing his pointer finger over the top of his dick as he tapped the precum agaisnt it, making a lewd wet 'plp' sound. "S-shut up." You groaned through your teeth, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten when he wrapped his hand around himself again and started stroking at a propper pace. "Shit, this is so weird, heh." Gojo laughed, the feeling of looking at himself while he jerked himself off, out of body, was truly an experience.

"This was y-your idea, don't complain now." You said in his voice, watching intently at his hand that moved over his cock expertly. His precise and knowledgeable movements felt a hell of a lot better than your own, and the visual of your hand dwarfed by his massive cock was a sight to behold, one that aided in your growing arousal. "Yeah, yeah." He said, briefly sitting up as he pulled your shorts and panties down your body, leaving his cock hanging twitching in the air between the two of you as he disrobed your body.

The man turned around and faced himself in the mirror as he sat on top of you, the bottom half of your body bare as he pulled your shirt over your body and feasted his eyes on your naked form. "Shit, actually.." He smirked, biting his lip as he ran your hands down your body seductively. "Fuck me like this, wanna watch your body move while you do it." He said, reaching behind you to grab his dick again and stroke it while he continued admiring your body.

"Satoru please don't look it's embarrassing." You begged, covering your face with his massive hands as your entire body felt like it was on fire from the arousal and combined embarrassment. "Im about to watch you get fucked, you might wanna get over your fears." He giggled. "Besides, you're fucking hot, can feel your body gettin' all horny from just lookin' at it." He confessed in your voice, making you whine. The man grabbed his dick and lifted his body over his cock, looking down to line it up with your entrance before he pressed the tip against your hole.

"W-wait Satoru a condom-" You warned when you felt him start to sit down on you. "Trust me, you do not want a condom on when you feel this." He said, gasping when his tip popped past the tight ring of your cunt. Every alarm that was going off in your head melted away when you felt the tight and warm sensation envelop his cock, you felt his balls twitch and tighten the more he sat down on his cock, you would worry about the lack of a condom later.

"Fuuuuuck, that's the shit~" He groaned, bottoming out on his cock while he placed his hands on his body's knees and stared at your body in the mirror, specifically where the two of you were connected. "I feel so fucking f-fulll~" He wined, wiggling his hips in circles on your lap as he tried to adjust to the feeling of having a cock inside him for the first time. His dick was pressing up against all the right spots in your walls he didn't even find when he was fingering your cunt earlier in the shower, this was a hundred times better than your pathetic digits, he started to understand why girls kept blowing up his phone after a one night stand now.

"I- I think I'm gonna cum- p-please don't move." You wined, using Satoru's massive hands to grip your body's waist hard enough to leave bruises as you tried to make sure he couldn't even wiggle around. "I wouldn't mind feeling that~" He said, referring to you filling him up. You tilted your head back and took some deep breaths to steady yourself. Your cunt was incredibly warm and wet it felt like it was going to melt his dick as he sat still on you. The strong warmth that had blossomed in your tummy was almost overbearing, and your head was spinning at all the stimulation.

You knew Gojo was experienced, so how did it still feel this good? How did it still feel so sensitive? Was it because it was your first time feeling anything like it? You chalked it up to that, your train of thought getting cut off when your voice spoke through the room.

"Can I move? This fucking cunt is aching for it." Satoru wined, trying to wiggle his hips in your strong grip. "I think so." You nodded when he looked at you for your approval. It was so freaky seeing someone else control your body, but the pleasure of your own cunt squeezing around the cock you temporarily had eased your nerves significantly. "You might have to help me out, never rode a dick before." He giggled in your voice, turning his head back to look at your body in the mirror as he lifted his weight until his dick was almost completely out of him, before he sat all of your weight back down on his cock.

"Oh- fuck-" Gojo wined in your voice, coming out a little more submissive than he would've liked. He quickly started a fast pace bounding on your lap, your jaw dropped open as you allowed yourself to feel everything. "Y-eah it feels fucking good d-doesn't it?" Gojo tried to laugh through a moan, your voice getting louder when you started fucking his hips up into your body, poisoning his dick in and out of the man who possessed your body.

Gojo was right, you could think of nothing worse than something like a condom blocking your direct contact from feeling your tight walls wrap around his cock like this. You were impressed by your strength in this body when you used your grip on the body on top of you to lift it up and bring it down harder on his cock, making him scream out while your breathing picked up.

"S-so roughh~" Gojo smiled at his current body in the mirror, abandoning one of his hands that had stabilized himself on your thigh to rub his clit in fast circles, making your walls squeeze his dick tightly. "God Satoru- loosen" thrust "up!" you grit in his voice, your eyes threatening to roll back in your head at how intense the feeling of your pulsing walls around his dick felt. "C-cant ohmygod c-cumming!" He cried suddenly, his back arching forward as your cunt spasmed around his cock.

You fucked him through his orgasm, loud short wines and curses fell from his lips as he came, his body jerked as the waves crashed over him, his body going limp in your hold. You took the opportunity to manhandle your body, quickly turning the two of you around in one swift movement you forced him into a weak doggystyle position, his face being pressed into the sheets while drool dripped out from the corner of his lips.

You couldn't let up on his cunt, the pulsing around his cock was an amazing feeling and you were determined to feel it again, Gojo pressed your thighs together and crossed your feet at the overstimulation he was feeling as mindless babbles and whines of your own name could be heard in your voice underneath you. You prayed no one was around the dorms at this time, as they might be a little confused on what they were hearing right now.

"Fuck- make me c-cum again give it to me g-give it to me" He whined, his words being slurred into one as you fucked heavy and mean thrusts into his cunt. You don't know what came over you, but the need to respond and talk dirty back to him was overwhelming you, "Yeah? Wanna cum all over this cock again?" You said, making yourself blush as you aroused yourself hearing his dirty words in your ears. "Y-e-ssssss fuckk~" Gojo whined into the sheets, a cock-drunken smile plastered on his face as he took everything your gave him.

You felt his balls coil tighter, the knot in his stomach tying itself harder into knots as you fucked a particularly soft spot inside your cunt. The telltale sign of Gojo's orgasm was creeping over his body, making your thrusts grow sloppy. Gojo laughed from underneath you, the sound being chopped up by moans. "Y-you're gonna c-cum arent you?" He teased, trying to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

You probably should've felt more uncomfortable with how arousing fucking your own body was, but you would probably dream about this night for years to come, so you could ponder about that later.

The expression Gojo had on your face was so pretty, you had to admit. Your eyes kept rolling back in your head each time you fucked into him, the fucked out smile he had on, the moans that were forced out of your mouth, and the way your cunt pulsed around you pushed you over the edge.

Gojo whined when he felt you still against his ass, "Yeahhhh fill me up, fuck your cum into me~" He whined, taking advantage of being in your body to say shit you would never say, for his own pleasure. He bit his lip at how warm his cum was when it shot rope after rope inside him. Your clit was throbbing at the feeling, he so badly wanted to reach down and pet it till he came as well, but he would wait till you started fucking into him again.

Right when you started coming down from your orgasm, something akin to the feeling of a back scratch, or getting your head massaged at the salon washed over the two of you. Suddenly you had an intense ache in your lower back, and your tummy felt strangely warm. "Heh, what a fucking twist~" You heard Gojo's voice coo down at you, only this time, you weren't in control of it anymore. "I wanted to feel my cock cum inside your cunt while I was in your body one last time, but now I can feel it from my own." He grinned maliciously.

Even though Gojo had just cum, he started fucking into you like a madman, the squelching between your legs was so much louder now as your combined cum gathered around the base of his thick cock. "Have fun in my body?" He asked, giggling with his signature headache inducing giggle, "You liked cumming inside something? Glad you didnt use a condom huhhh~?" He teased, pulling his hips back to the tip before he fucked his entire occk back into you, making you scream out.

Gojo had adjusted surprisingly quick, I guess that makes sense for the world's strongest sorcerer. You on the other hand were still trying to come to terms with being in your own body again and having practically no time to adjust to the feeling of his cock before he started bullying it into your walls. It's not like it hurt, but the feeling of him fucking into your sweet spot so rough was almost too much. "Oh, you were aching down here~" Gojo remembered, reaching his hand under your body to rub your clit in little circles. "Let me help you~" He cooed, sucking air in through his teeth when your cunt tightened around him at the addition of stimulation.

"S-toru wa-ittt-" You cried, trying to warn him of how close you were but ultimately falling short. Your walls started to spasm around him as your body came for the nth time that night. "Oh shiiit~ Feels so fucking good baby-" Gojo groaned, letting his head fall back and his jaw drop in a small o as you came hard around his length, and he actually got to feel it this time. Your body was completely limp to his mean thrusts, your eyes rolling back as nonsense spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your orgasm, past overstimulation, and towards another high.

He lifted your tummy up from underneath you and pressed down on your lower back simultaneously to get you in a meaner arch, before he went back to rubbing your clit. The man placed his foot next to your body to give himself more leverage to fuck you harder, and that's exactly what he did. "Tell me you need my cum- cmon baby- say it-" He cooed, gritting his teeth together as he used your cunt to work himself up to his orgasm.

His eyes darted between the mess the two of you were creating at your fucked out, drooling face. He pulled back his hold on your hip to leave a mean spank against your ass, making you yelp out into the room. "What did I say, huh? Don't fucking ignore me when I'm this close~" Gojo chastized, shaking his head. "N-eed your cum 'toruuu" You slurred, "W-ant to feel you fill me up-" You begged, your words being chopped up by his mean thrusts.

"Again," Gojo said, leaving another smack on the fat of your ass. "C-cum inside mee~" You repeated. "Again," Another smack. "Toru- toru- toru-" You repeated his name as he groaned through his teeth. He felt his balls tighten quickly before he was thrown into his orgasm. His body jerked as his hips fucked load after load into your used and abused cunt. He released a long groan when he stilled his hips to your ass and let himself finish. Your moans had quieted as you laid under him, whimpering softly each time he fucked into you but otherwise trying to catch your breath from how hard he just gave it to you.

Once Gojo had released all of his seed into you, he pulled his sore cock out and gripped himself at the base as the both of you groaned in oversensitivily. "Fuck, think you milked me dry after that one." He laughed, pulling your pussy lips to the side to get a better view of your stuffed hole that leaked his cum in a steady drip down the back of your thighs. "I don't think I've ever been so sore in my life." You said quietly into the sheets, making him giggle.

"I think that was my fault, I might've worked your cunt a little too hard in the shower." He said, letting your body drop down onto the bed as he sat beside you and rubbed your thigh soothingly. You stayed silent for a couple beats before his words registered in your head. Worked too hard in the shower? What? Wait.. did he?

Your jaw dropped, you turned your head to look at him with an incredulous look on your face while he smiled with faux innocence down at you. "You fucking hypocrite! You made me feel bad for masturbating in your body when it sounds like you went ape shit on mine!" The man just giggled infuriatingly, "I like teasing you~ I'm sorryyyy~ You practically handed the opportunity to me!" He defended, throwing his hands up in the air.

You sighed, looking away from his irritatingly handsome face as you shut your eyes and curled your body on your side feeling a headache start to come on. "Oh come onnn~ We had a good time~" The man's voice resonated in your ears while he wrapped his large body around yours and started placing kisses on your shoulder to ease your frustration. Was it possible to kill a curse twice? You sighed as your body relaxed against him, your exhausted body welcoming the kisses.

Jujutsu sources are the worstttt..

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moonchildstyles · 1 month

Note

Do you think you could write a blurb where witch! Harry is finally comfortable w Mitch and his friends so one night when they’re all out together Including Sarah and y/n, Harry doesn’t really pay as much attention to y/n as he usually does, and y/n becomes more clingy than usual and it makes Harry happy 🥺🥺

this is a little different than the exact request but I hope you enjoy!! thank you for sending this in:)

wordcount: 4k+

—————

Fiddling with his fingers in his lap, Harry watched as (Y/N) readied herself at her vanity. He wanted to be distracted by the sweeps of cosmetics across her skin or the flutter of her lashes as she dusted sparkles over her eyes, but he knew it was a losing battle. He'd already spent all of his distractions when he conjured up his outfit and fussed over his own hair in the mirror. His nervous hands had prepped him too early, leaving him with way more time available than he needed.

"You know," (Y/N) started, catching his gaze in the reflection, "we don't have to go tonight if you don't want to. We can stay here and relax or go back to yours and cuddle with the girls. I don't mind."

There was a split second where he considered her offer, folding his bottom lip between his teeth before he thought better of his indecision. (Y/N) had agreed to these plans earlier in the week and was almost done with her makeup already, there was no way he was going to let her cancel on his account.

"No, I want to go," he insisted, matching her gaze though he figured he looked about as convincing as he felt, "I know I'll have fun, 's jus'... You know."

A gentle smile touched the corners of his lover's lips. "I know," she assured, "We'll have fun once we get out there. This is the hard part."

He gave a quiet nod in agreement. It was easier to stay home with her and luxuriate in the familiar, but he was trying to grow himself into a member of the world once more. Besides, Sarah's boyfriend, Mitch, was supposed to be there tonight with a couple of the others he'd met a few months back. As long as he found his space in that group again, he'd be able to make it through.

Worst case scenario, he'd cling to (Y/N), say the word, and they'd be on their way home before he had a chance to crawl out of his skin.

This was going to be good for him, he reminded himself as he continued watching (Y/N) through the mirror.

He was going to have fun tonight. Probably.

—————

With his fingers laced between hers, Harry followed (Y/N) into the restaurant. The plan tonight was to go to dinner before heading to some of the bars downtown as some kind of informal celebration for Sarah's upcoming birthday. (Y/N) had gently let Sarah and Mitch know to go ahead without her and Harry (it was a small ruse to allow her some extra time to get ready and Harry an extra moment in the quiet apartment before braving the world), leaving them to be one of the last to arrive.

The restaurant was loud and crowded, tables packed with chairs and bubbly patrons. The bar was busy, both servers and guests seated on the stools keeping the bartenders busy with plenty of orders. Fresh pizzas were being fired in the brick oven that worked as the centerpiece of the establishment, though there were plenty of spicy, greasy bar staples flooding out of the kitchen.

As much as Harry worried over these kinds of outings, still on unsure footing when it came to the world outside of his bubble, the energy of this place fed him. Though it was a different kind of feeling compared to the hazy parties of the seventies that he was so ingrained in, this wasn't that far off from what he had been so accustomed to in the past (there were decidedly less drugs here, and more decency but that's besides the point). He could feel eyes trailing after him when he walked past, his stride bringing attention to the glimmering threads of his clothing and the woman on his arm.

"Hey, guys!" (Y/N) greeted as they approached the table in the back the hostess had directed them to. On either side of the long table, faces turned to the sound of (Y/N)'s voice. Harry recognized the majority of them, though there were a few unfamiliar faces that he was both eager and nervous to meet.

"You made it!" Sarah cheered, Mitch at her side with his own usually stoic features shifting into a smile when he caught Harry's eye.

"Yeah, sorry," (Y/N) started, leading Harry down to the two free spots at the end of the bench seating, across from Mitch and Sarah and next to a familiar head of bleached hair he'd met at the concert night a few months ago. "The Uber took the weirdest way, and then hit traffic. I don't know what he was trying to do."

Sarah shrugged and rolled her eyes as if this was a story she'd lived through just as many times herself.

(Y/N) took the spot next to the semi-unfamiliar couple, leaving Harry on the very end of the bench without any extra neighbors. She and Sarah took up another avenue of conversation, others beginning to jump in now that the party could truly start with all guests in attendance. He held her hand tight in his lap, his attention drifting this way and that as more and more color and noise and new caught his eye.

"Have you ever been here before, Harry?" Mitch asked from across the table, centering his wandering attention.

"No, this is m'first time," Harry offered, a small smile on his lips. He felt a bit better knowing that Mitch was here—next to (Y/N), he was one of the only people he felt comfortable with.

"Really?" Mitch sounded, his brows rising, "Don't you work around here, now? At that one music store?"

Harry eagerly nodded to the question. He loved talking about his job—he loved spending so much time around music and the extra money that came with it was very exciting.

"I do, yeah," he smiled, "Have y'ever been there before? You'd love it."

Mitch matched Harry's smile with his own grin, taking a sip from his drink with a slow shake of his head. "I haven't, but I might have to come see you sometime. Friends and family discount, right?"

Letting out a laugh, Harry nodded his head. He really hoped Mitch meant it when he said he'd come visit—he wasn't sure how to add discounts yet to the register, but he'd make sure his friend got whatever he wanted when he came by.

As Mitch started on a new avenue of conversation, Harry relaxed further the longer the night went on, feeling less and less of the anxiety that he left the house with. He felt thoroughly distracted—comfortable, even, when the semi-familiar man (Kid, he thinks was their nickname) on (Y/N)'s other side piped into his and Mitch's conversation. The edge he had been standing on slowly dulled until he was laughing loudly and settling into his skin the way he used to back in the day.

Once ordered, drinks and dinner were delivered to the table. Honestly, Harry almost wanted to speed through his meal knowing that the rest of the plans for the night were to head to a bar down the plaza, leaving more room to hang out with his friends. He was having too much fun to waste time like this. Under the table, (Y/N)'s hand was settled on his thigh, turning palm up once he attempted to wiggle his fingers between hers.

Looking up at her, his hand loaded with a slice of plain cheese pizza, he saw her looking at him with a raised brow.

"Feeling better?" she murmured to him, the others around them distracted by their own food to listen in.

A small smile was on Harry's lips as he nodded his head. "Yeah, a lot. I forget how nice everyone is."

"And, how much they like you," (Y/N) added, "I'm happy you're feeling better, though. Do you still want to go to the bars with everyone after?" His eager nod had to be enough of an answer with the way she let out a huff of laughter, her hand squeezing his under the table. "Okay," she smiled, "Just wanted to double check."

Tipping her chin, (Y/N) puckered her lips just enough to draw him in for a short kiss. Harry felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, even if the contact was nothing more than a small peck on his mouth. The vine tethering the chambers of his heart to hers pulsed, urging him to stay close to her.

"Thank you," he murmured, blinking up at her through the fan of his lashes.

"For what?" she asked, nudging him, their private moment drawing on long enough to catch the attention of Sarah across the table. Her eyes softened as she glanced at them.

"Taking me tonight," he answered, keeping his voice low. If Sarah could watch, he just hoped she couldn't hear every word. "I know 'm a lot sometimes—thank you for still wanting to bring me even if I wasn't sure."

She tipped her head, eyes fond and tender to match the smile on her lips. "Of course, H. You don't really have much of a choice, though—you're my soulmate, you pretty much have to come with me."

He knew she was trying to joke with him, get him to laugh the same way she realized her own plume of laughter, but he liked hearing her call him her soulmate to do anything more than surge forward for another kiss.

—————

(Y/N) with Sarah and some of the other women at her side, didn't take much time before getting their first round of drinks to indulge in the dance floor of the bar, cheering in celebration of Sarah's birthday. Harry, along with Mitch and the rest of the few that didn't want to brave the sweaty congregation all hung back, drinks in hand with a table luckily claimed along the back of the bar.

More often than not, he had his eyes on (Y/N), watching her like she was a bubble of sunshine in the middle of the dance floor. He could hear her laughter, see her dancing with her friends, and practically feel the beam of her happiness even sitting so far off. Mitch was much like him, watching his own girlfriend as she celebrated her birthday, a fond smile on his lips.

The third time Harry caught him gazing with hearts in his eyes towards Sarah and the bobbing ponytail on her head, he asked, "How long have y'and Sarah been together?"

Mitch blinked his eyes away from the dance floor, Kid at his side jostling him as he laughed with his own companion. "Hm?" Mitch hummed, taking a sip from his beer as he plugged into the moment once more.

Harry knew the feeling well: what it was like to forget the rest of the details around him when he had his eyes on his sunshine. Chin in his palm with his elbow resting on the table, Harry let a small smile sit on his lips. "I asked how long you and Sarah have been together."

"Oh, sorry," Mitch offered, sheepishly clearing his throat, "We've been together for a little over three years, now."

"Wow," Harry awed, the romantic inside him sinking at the thought of having that much time with (Y/N) at his side. "How did y'meet?"

Only having time to open his mouth to take in a breath before his story, Mitch was cut off when Kid butted in. His eyes were a bit glassy thanks to the alcohol in his system, but his words were clear when he interjected: "I set them up!"

Kid's partner—Jenny—laughed at his insistence, especially when Mitch rolled his eyes though he couldn't completely stave off the amusement on his features.

"Barely," Mitch countered, voice a petulant mumble when he looked back at Harry, "He just happened to know the both of us, but he didn't set us up."

"Was I not the one that invited both of you to my birthday party?"

Harry sat back, drink in hand, as he watched the light-hearted argument. It felt nice to be sitting among friends for the first time in decades, learning tidbits about their lives and finding where he fit in within the dynamic. (Y/N) was his heart and soul, everything that made his existence feel purposeful, but this was a facet of his life he hadn't realized he was craving so badly until it was offered to him.

"Harry, don't you think that qualifies as a set up?"

Perking up at the sound of his name, he plugged into the conversation once more, only to have three pairs of eyes waiting on him. Both Jenny and Mitch held amusement in their gazes though Kid seemed terribly serious with his request for backup.

Unable to help himself, Harry had to prod.

"Well," he started, breathing in a sigh as he laid his forearms out on the table, "How long after your birthday did they go on a real date?"

It was the chatter that started almost immediately after he finished speaking that had Harry smiling into the rim of his own cup, pretending to sip as he took it all in.

—————

With sweat sticking her baby hairs to her temples and slicking down her back, (Y/N) practically stumbled after Sarah as they drifted from the dance floor. The few others that had paraded out there with them stayed behind for the rest of the song, while Sarah had insisted that she needed another drink before she could dance any longer. Sweaty hands pressed palm to palm, (Y/N) followed her out in the semi-fresh air of the rest of the bar now that they weren't tucked between the rest of the patrons on the dance floor. It was suddenly sobering to be out of the crowd, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling the effects of the cocktail from dinner and the celebratory shots they took once stepping into the bar.

With Sarah leading her to the bar, (Y/N) traced her eyes through the space, knowing Harry was around somewhere but she was a touch too intoxicated to rely on the tether between them. She found him, a bright sunshiney yellow spot, tucked at the end of the booth next to Mitch with Jenny and Kid laughing along to whatever it was that Harry was saying. It was silly to her, as she took in the moment, just how nervous he had been before leaving, worrying over not fitting in, doing nothing but clinging to her side, not having fun, to now being the center of attention. It was just as she figured it would be—no one was immune to his presence.

Tugging her forward, (Y/N) went along with Sarah to the bar until they had fought through the two-deep crowd to the counter. Sarah didn't need to ask what she wanted, instead slurring out an order of two fruity cocktails with a drunken declaration that it was her birthday. Over her shoulder, (Y/N) could see the bartender laughing at Sarah's excitement, though that information would surely garner them a discount anyway.

Once their drinks were in hand, Sarah didn't waste time before putting the straw between her lips and gulping down the drink. "Let's go say hi, then we'll go back!" she shouted over the music after taking down the mouthful of juice and vodka, gesturing towards their claimed table with the rest of their party.

Nodding with her own straw between her lips, (Y/N) was more than happy to take a break and see her soulmate before heading back into the sweaty throng of people.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but making it to the table was quick enough and well worth the small spill she made on her shoes when she saw Harry's face light up when he caught sight of her. Whatever story he had been in the middle was put on pause when the pair of them made it to the table, Harry opening his arms for her to fall into. Mitch as well looked amused to see his mumbling girlfriend, a familiar glimmer in his eyes when he took her in.

"Hi, you," Harry murmured, taking a hold of (Y/N)'s drink and setting it on the stable table. "How are y'feeling, sunshine?"

"I'm good," she smiled, languidly draping her arms over his shoulders as she fought the urge to climb on his lap instead, "Kind of drunk, I think, though. Are you having fun?"

Dimples deep in his cheeks, dots of glitter shimmering on his cheekbones, he looked to her with tenderness coating his gaze. "'M having a lot of fun, sunshine. Are you?"

"Mhm," she hummed, unable to hold back from pressing a clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth, "But I feel like I've barely seen you tonight. You said you were gonna come dance with me."

"Sorry, love," he crooned, smiling despite the pout on her own lips, "Jus' got a little distracted, but you know 'm right here if y'need me."

"Yeah," she sighed, drooping like some long-suffering spouse, "But, I've missed my soulmate—I know you're right here, but it's not the same. You're too busy with your friends."

Her petulance only pulled a plume of laughter from him, even if there was something decidedly softer than before in his eyes. "You're still m'best friend, love, you know that. Jus' wanted to let y'have your fun, then I was going to bother y'the rest of the night."

"You never bother me," she countered, canting her head.

It was Harry's turn to tip his chin and press a kiss to her lips, though this contact was much more coordinated than her previous attempt. (Y/N) sunk into the contact, allowing Harry to hold her steady just before there was a call of her name from Sarah.

"Hm?" she asked, pulling away from Harry with her lipgloss surely missing from her mouth though it now sparkled on Harry's.

"We need to go back," she bubbled, taking her half-finished drink with Mitch looking on with a poorly hidden smile. "Listen to the song! We need to go out there!"

Tuning into the moment once more, (Y/N) took note of the bright notes filtering through the bar. It took only a quick look over her shoulder to see the familiar bobbing heads of the friends they had left behind to get their drinks, one of the girls catching sight of Sarah and beckoning them back to the floor.

"Go have fun, sunshine," Harry murmured, giving her a pat on the small of her back as if to send her off.

That seemed to be all the encouragement needed for Sarah to grab a hold of (Y/N)'s hand and take her back towards the floor. Drink in hand, (Y/N) made a point to look back to Harry and give him a small wave goodbye for the moment. His smile only widened when she did.

—————

"I love you."

Despite the sweet declaration, Harry couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from his chest. He tightened his grip on (Y/N) as she draped herself over him in the backseat of their Uber (a concept he thoroughly struggled with until Mitch helped him both understand it as well as order one).

"I love you too, sunshine," Harry murmured back for the third time in the span of five minutes.

"Nooo," she moaned, curling into him as if she weren't practically on his lap already, "You don't get it, H. I love you—like, love you."

His heart warmed even when she slurred over her words, the night dancing and drinking catching up to her finally. He wondered what their driver thought, listening into this drunken conversation.

"I love love you, too, (Y/N). I—"

"Why would you say that to me?" she cried, cutting him off drawing away from him with offense written all over her features.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, Harry caught their driver attempting to hold back her smile before focusing back on the road before her. As a quiet favor, she turned up the radio just a hair more, an offer of privacy.

"Why would I say what?" Harry crooned, unsure of how his love for her could cause her to feel so upset.

"You called me by my name. Why would you do that? You never call me by my name, are you mad at me?"

It took all he had in him to keep from laughing at her distress. He hadn't meant to upset her, he had hoped by saying her name she would see he was just as serious as she was. His arm looped around her middle kept her steady at his side.

"Of course, 'm not mad at you, love," he cooed, erring on the side of caution with his voice terribly gentle, "Jus' wasn't thinking, I guess. I love love you, sunshine."

His amendment seemed to be just enough to placate (Y/N) once more, drawing him into her with a blissed smile.

"I love you more than anything, honey," she told him once more, back on track with her declarations, "I don't tell you enough, but I do. You're my favorite person in the whole world, and it's crazy that we could've never met if you didn't decide to live up in the mountain and do all your witchy stuff and—"

"Oh, love," Harry cut her off before she could say much more about whatever witchy stuff he's got up to. Even with that, hearing her say she loves him more than anything in the world was enough to have his skin pinkening and warming. "You're my favorite person, you know that. Love you, so much."

Before (Y/N) could try to argue anymore, declare her love for him to be the biggest (which was not true, because he loved her more), the car came to a stop at (Y/N)'s apartment building.

"Here you are," their driver declared, peeking through the rearview mirror.

"Thank you," Harry smiled, the curl widening when (Y/N) seconded him with a bright chirping Mhm!

"You're welcome," their driver smiled, "Have a nice rest of your night, you two."

"We will!" (Y/N) brightly answered, struggling to get her seatbelt off.

After helping her out, Harry collected (Y/N) in his arms and kept her steady when she stepped out on the sidewalk. She gave a final wave to their driver before clinging to Harry as he led her towards the building.

"I had so much fun tonight, Harry," (Y/N) drawled, hanging off of him as he entered all the codes to get inside the building, her eyes warming the line of his profile. "Thank you for coming with me and taking care of me."

"Thank you for bringing me with you," he said, parroting the sentiment from dinner.

As he listened into her babblings as he took her up to her apartment, Harry felt his heart bloom like the petals in his garden. He'd had a perfect night, truthfully. While these were still people he had met through (Y/N), it didn't feel like he had spent the night with people putting up with him because of who his soulmate was. He felt like he had spent the night with his own friends, the kind that would have been a part of his hazy memories from the seventies, full of laughter and silly conversation.

All for him to end the night with the love of his life.

"I had a lot of fun tonight too, sunshine," he crooned to her, getting her safe inside the apartment once more. "I love you."

"But, Harry, you don't get it."

He could only laugh as he led her to her bedroom. He knew she would be arguing with him over the rest of the night.

Harry couldn't be happier.

—————

thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas of your own please send them in!!

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casuallyawkardd · 9 months

Text

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind Pt II

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: Your daughter needs a sitter at the last minute and no one else is available, at least that’s what you thought..

Warnings: Fluff, Miguel is still a softie around kids, your daughter is a menace to society, this is basically the Miggy and Vada show, I’m not fluent in Spanish so correct me if I mess up

A/N: Here’s the part 2 ya’ll wanted so bad! Thank you for the lovely feedback from the last post, I appreciate you guys 💞 If you want to be tagged for future parts, be sure to join the TAGLIST

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Another month had passed since your little home visit with Miguel. Halfway between then and now, you had decided on sharing your little secret with the rest of the Spider Society. It was no surprise when the other spiders wanted to know more about your daughter, many insisting that you bring her in some time for them to meet. It was especially rewarding when Peter B and Jess heard the news. Granted, Jess was a bit annoyed that you had kept Vada a secret for so long and Peter thought you had deprived Mayday of a potential friend, but after the initial shock they were just as eager to meet her as the others.

Everyone was surprised at how anticlimatic Miguel’s reaction was. “I already knew,” he would reply when someone would question his behavior, “it’s my job to know.” Ever the cocky asshole, O’Hara.

The biggest pro to the whole of Spider Society knowing you had a kid was the near infinite amount of babysitters. And trusted ones at that. Except Ben...he was on probation for encourging Vada to hit a new PR with very big, very real weights. Hobie was on thin ice as well, in your opinion Vada was too young to be ‘sticking it to the man’ as he so generously put it.

When Miguel finds you, you’re in the Go Home Machine control room. Weird, he definitely remembered assigning you an urgent mission. He saunters in, welcomed by the sound of Spider-Byte and you in a very heated discussion.

“Come on Margo, it’s only for a few hours. Vada is a good girl, she won’t get in the way of your work.”

“Nope, not gonna do it. It’s way too last minute, do you see how many anomalies I have to send out today? Plus, I don’t do kids. They're sticky and my equipment doesn't do sticky,” Margo says dismisively, her holgogram zooming around the room as she continues her work.

"My daughter is not sticky," you retort, spinning around in place trying to keep up with her, arms crossed, suited up and ready to go. Miguel recognizes the annoyed look on your face, glad he’s not on the receiving end of it for once, but he’s about to be.

“What’s the hold up? I told you to be on Earth-76C ten minutes ago.”

Your head snaps in his direction, frustration fading only slightly as you huff, “I know. I’m supposed to pick up Vada in an hour, but now I need someone to do it instead and watch her until I finish the mission,” you deadpan him, fidgetting with the Gizmo on your wrist.

“Did you try-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve asked everyone. Jess is doing date night, Peter said Mayday is sick...” Miguel listens as you rattle off the excuses every spiderperson threw at you, listing every close friend of yours in the society. “...Her grandparents are out of town and my neighbor is the one watching her now, but she has plans tonight as well. So if you have any bright ideas-”

“I can watch her,” it’s so surprising to hear those words come out of Miguel's mouth that even Margo has stopped working to look at him, but his eyes are focused solely on you. Your mouth is moving, but no sound comes out as you try to form a coherent sentence.

“I couldn’t-”

“It’s really no problem.”

“You’re probably busy-”

“I’m actually very free right now.”

You scoff, hands moving to your hips, “Did Lyla lock you out of your lab again when you went to go grab food from the cafeteria?”

His eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightens, “Do you need a sitter or not?”

Miguel had lost track of how long he was standing in the hall of your apartment building, holographic suit materialized into more fitting clothes for your universe. It felt like an abnormal amount of time, but was probably only a few minutes. Only one old lady going into her apartment looked at him funny, but that was most likely due to the uncomfortable look on his face. It’d been a long time since he’d had to look after a kid by himself, let alone one as young as Vada.

He had seen her in passing, whenever you would pick up or drop her off with one of the other spiders who had agreed to watch her. You even introduced them one time, saying he was your boss. Vada had just stared at him, he couldn’t tell if it was with a look of fear, confusion or awe. He had no idea how she would react to him picking her up rather than her mother.

His knuckles rapped against the door and Miguel could hear someone approach from the other side. When it opened he was greeted by a woman, looking to be around your age, maybe even younger. She did a double take when she saw him, but Miguel was used to that. There weren’t a lot of universes where being six foot nine was considered normal.

“Can I...help you?” she asked him finally.

“M’name’s Miguel...I was told to pick up Vada,” he said simply and her eyes lit up in understanding.

“Oh! You’re who she was calling about,” she called Vada’s name over her shoulder, letting the little girl know it was time to go. “How do you know Y/N again?”

“We’re coworkers,” it wasn’t a lie technically. Miguel parroting what you had told him to say so he could pretend to be someone you knew from your day job.

“You’re a scientist?”

Miguel paused, confused by the question until he realized she was talking about his...physique. Her eyes not very subtly giving him the up and down. “I...work out when I’m stressed.”

The corners of the woman's mouth briefly turned down in a 'hmph' before returning to their normal position, “Must be hella stressed.”

There was the pitter patter of feet, making Miguel glance past the woman as Vada came to the door. It was almost comical how small she was compared to him, the top of her head barely making it to his hip. The pig tails that were meant to be on top of her head were lopsided, one still in tact while one sagged sideways, and there was a wet spot on her t-shirt. Is that...drool?

“She woke up from a nap about ten minutes ago,” the woman seemed to pick up on his confusion. She knelt down beside Vada, the two hugging goodbye, “Are you okay going with him back to your apartment?” she asked the toddler.

Vada bit her lip in thought, looking back at Miguel as if to stare him down....or rather up. “Hmmm...yeah. Bye Aunt Harrie,” Vada responds in a neutral tone, stepping through the doorway with a backpack almost as big as her slung over one shoulder.

Miguel exchanged pleasantries with her aunt before the three parted ways. He easily tugged the backpack off her shoulder and followed the little girl down the hallway. She seemed to know the way home, their destination only a few floors up. The rickety elavator opened for them and Miguel stepped in, stopping the doors from closing at the last minute when he saw Vada had yet to get in.

She...just stood there. Staring at him. Is she scared? Toddlers can get irrational fears, maybe the elevator freaks her out? Then she wouldn’t be looking at that instead of staring at me? “Are you coming?” he finally asked, meeting her gaze when she looks back up at him.

“You have to say superhero jump.” Well that was blunt.

“¿Perdóname?”

“Huh?”

Miguel cleared his throat, “I mean, what are you talking about?”

“Mama always says ‘superhero jump!’ and then I do a reeeally big jump from here to there,” Vada talks with her hands, pointing at her feet and then the elevator.

That’s ridiculous, was what Miguel was going to say before he stopped himself, sighing. “Superhero jump.”

“You have to say it in a happy voice.”

“Superhero jump~,” Miguel’s voice raised an octave in mock enthusiasm, but it seemed to do the trick as Vada did her bathetic jump over the elevator gap. “...Wow, good job.”

“Thank you,” she said proudly as she stood on her tip toes to hit the button for their floor.

The rest of the short trip was uneventful. Miguel did give Vada a sideways glance when she didn’t request he say ‘superhero jump’ when they got out, calling her actions inconsistent in his head. Like he wasn’t referring to a toddler. When he opened the door to the apartment, Vada was off. She started by running into the living room, stuttering to a stop before going to her mother’s room, then her own and even the bathroom.

Finally she stopped back in the living room where Miguel waited, “Where’s Mama?”

“She’s working, I’m watching you, remember?”

Vada’s nose scrunched at that, “I want Mama.”

“I’m sure you do, but you’ll just have to wait.”

The toddler’s foot stomped defiantly, “I want Mama now!”

“Vada,” Miguel huffed, squatting to be level with her. “Cálmate, your mother will be home in a couple hours. You’re a big girl right? You can wait,” Vada glared at him, but it was hard to take a three year old’s anger seriously when she looked cute expressing it. She then gasped dramatically, cheeks puffing out as she held the breath, little hands covering her nose and mouth. There was a moment of awkward silence as they stared at one another.

What was she-oh. Oh.

“Stop that, throwing a tantrum isn’t gonna change my answer,” Miguel said a bit more firmly, making sure to be somewhat gentle still. She didn’t budge. “Vada, ay coño, that’s enough.¿Quieres desmayarte?” Do you want to pass out?

He reached a hand out to grab her, maybe jostle some sense into her, but didn’t get the chance as she erupted into giggle when his hand grazed her side. Miguel was confused at first before realization hit, “Are you ticklish?” he teased.

Vada giggled again, her bad mood seeming to fade away almost instantly, “Noooo~,” she cooed.

Miguel scoffed, the corners of his mouth turning up, “Alright, you’re not ticklish, but come on. I’m sure you don’t want to just stare at each other until your mom comes home. There’s gotta be something you want to do? Maybe play? What do you and your mom do for fun?”

The afternoon went by surprisingly fast. Vada was...quite the little firecracker. Very much her mother’s daughter. Not only did she look like a carbon copy of her mom, but she had the same mannerisms. The way her nose scrunched when she was displeased with something he said, the way she bit her bottom lip when thinking hard about something, it was like he was babysitting a tinier version of you.

Vada played him like a fiddle, getting him to play pretend with her little toys, even convincing him to do different voices for each of the dolls she had assigned to him. Miguel was just glad no one else was around to witness this, he’d be spending the rest of his life threatening them to keep quiet. He became very aware of the drama at Vada’s preschool, the little girl filling him in on all the latest gossip, to which Miguel was listening to with an embarrassing amount of intrigue.

“...now Becca isn’t talking to Daina because Daina laid next to Teddy during nap time,” Vada rambles on, absentmindedly rolling a toy truck across the floor.

“Uh huh, because Becca like likes Teddy,” Miguel affirms, his deep, monotone voice a stark contrast to hers. He sat next to her on the ground, watching Vada as she continued to play, while detangling the hair of one of her dolls with a tiny, plastic brush.

“Yup! And then Becca got mad and pushed Daina into the sandpit, so now Becca can’t play outside for pickup.”

“Tch! Puta...” Miguel mutters the phrase without even registering it, catching himself when he realizes how invested he’s gotten in petty gossip. A child’s petty gossip, no less. Domínese, O’Hara...

“Puta.”

Miguel’s eyes widen, looking back at Vada. Did she just.. “Don’t say that word.”

“Why?”

“It’s a bad word.”

“Nuh-uh, my mommy knows all the bad words and she's never said that one.”

“It is.”

“Poooootaaaaah~” Vada enunciates, giggling at how annoyed Miguel gets when she says it. Before Miguel can scold her once more, the clicking of the front door alerts them of your arrival, both Vada and Miguel’s head snapping to watch as you come in and shut the door behind you.

It had been a more difficult mission than you had anticipated. The Sandman from your earth was reeking havoc in another dimension. Seemed like an easy fix, until you discovered there was another Sandman from a different universe also in the mix. After some sloppy web work, a little assistance from the spider of that universe and a few bruised ribs, you had them captured and returned to HQ to be sent back to their respective earths. The damage to your body was minimal, for someone with superhuman abilities, a good night’s rest would have you back to normal.

The door had hardly been shut when the familiar tapping of Vada’s feet on the hardwood approaches you. And as usual, you crouch down to accept her embrace, this time wincing slightly as her little body collides into yours, your toddler oblivious to the injuries you had sustained. She wastes no time talking your ear off, telling you how her day was at Aunt Harrie’s and her evening with Miguel.

Miguel, speaking of, stood in the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room to watch the interaction unfold. You don’t see it, but the sight of you watching as Vada eagerly chatters brings a smile to his face, just a small one, as he admired the relationship between mother and daughter. When you glance his way, he averts his gaze to the ground and clears his throat stiffly.

“Well, sweet girl, it sounds like you had a busy day,” you say, looking back at your daughter. She’s beaming at you, a sight that always warms your heart no matter how many times you see it. “Come on, let’s get dinner started.” Vada moves like someone who’s never eaten, bolting to the kitchen counter and crawling onto one of the bar stools.

“Can Miggy have dinner too?” she asks, fidgetting excitedly in her seat. The question makes you pause, stopping just as you were about to fill an empty pot with water. After hemming and hawing for a moment, Vada decides to turn her attention to the man in question, “Can you, Miggy? Can you?”

Miguel’s eyes narrow, jaw set as he thinks of what to say, Vada waiting with bated breath. “Well...”

“It’s fine.” You finally find your voice again.

Miguel turns his attention to you now, “It is?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you shrug simply, “that is if you want to stay for dinner.” Miguel purses his lips as he thinks over your offer and you try not to chuckle at the sight.

“...What are you making?”

“Boxed Mac n Cheese.”

He scoffs, “That doesn’t sound very-”

“Mac n Cheese is my favorite!” Vada chimes in, “Mama always gets the one’s shaped like unicorns and rainbows cuz they taste better.”

Her words make Miguel pause again, finally letting out a deep breath through his nose, “Sure, I’ll stay for dinner.”

You smile mischievously, “We’re happy to have you, ‘Miggy~.’”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Dinner with you and your daughter was surprisingly pleasant. Miguel didn’t say much as he shoved the cheap pasta and cheese down his throat, watching you interact with your daughter. It was domestic, almost peaceful. Afterward Miguel offers to do the dishes while you put Vada down for the night. He excuses himself once done, thanking you for the meal and making sure to leave out the part that, for dinner being a cheap box of mac n cheese, it was the best meal he had had in a long time.

Tags:

@l0sert0wn @deputy-videogamer @arctic4life @sasaleleselfships @autismsupermusicalassassin @snert-bees @qundadedingle11 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @fangirlreice7 @mouse-teagreat @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @yellieeeee @thesrtuggleisveryreal @escherichiacolli @sweeteaacorner @marvelouslovely-barnes @meeom @candlewitch-cryptic @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @melovetitties @ilovemycat6808 @vegas-writing-den @pippethealien @shibble @mommyhange1 @chiikasevennn @pokhouu @jenniferdixon05207 @m0sscr3ates @momos-peaches @insanelycrazyanddelusional @miggyoharaswife @justtnat @imliquidesmooth @thedevillovesflowers @mvc2019 @starrynightnight @risinglightmoon @charming4u @whitetearx @blueparadisecollection16s @idontknowwhatimgoinghere @ziyahshinez @migueloharaslxt @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @viriexo @futuristicpandakid @louderfortheback @tomhollandisabae @itzsab @blue-pears-blog @geraskier-thots @saintskully @johnny-pie @keenzinemugstudent @rizahawkeye1380 @realalpacorn @prettylittlebrowngirl @leahnicole1219 @fandom-ash

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara headcannon #reader insert #close enounters of the spiderkind #miguel o'hara x single mother!reader

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destructive-path · 5 months

Text

Once More Into The Breach - E.W.

summary- you take a risk and put your life in hands that always seem to find their way around your neck.

pairing- raider!ellie x runaway!reader

tags- raider!ellie, runaway!reader,blood,swearing, mentions of non con (nothing crazy), ellie is sick in the head tbh, reader injury, choking,,,,

a/n- I just KNOW Ellie stays strapped w that big ass backback on 24/7! its the only thing she probably consistently wash too tf! anyway….i need Ellie bad in this. this will be a 3 part series! Im a SLOW (bear w me) writer but I will be updating as i go :) but yea no smut in this but there will be in future chapters!

A cacophony of natures most unruly attributes fill your senses. Breaths last life clinging onto nothing but the small bursts of air that invade your lungs with each stomp of your feet on the forest mud. You are running for your life.

The defensive nature of your stature discarded miles ago, you welcome the obstacles that stand in your way. No longer concerned with the “safe” way of maneuvering. You can feel it all as you sprint through the forest. The leaves that smack your skin, doused in rain furthering the sting you feel upon impact. The rain. The heavy, pouring rain muddying your shoes and slowing motive by the second. Blood. Its everywhere. In your mouth, pumping through your ears, dripping down your temples and seeping through new scars superimposed over your old ones. Still you keep running.

“I HEAR YOU.”

Her voice is taunting, shouting threats in a way that renders so playful it’s frightening. She enjoys this. You saw it in her eyes, back when her face was lit up by nothing but the torches of her equally evil posse.

***

You knew coming here was a mistake, but you had no where else to go. You had heard there was paradise on the other side of the forest. Paradise in which you sought out so desperately. Rumors and whispers of a safe haven flooded your ears and tipped over the over the overflowing pool of curiosity inside of you.

Curiosity soon morphed into determination which morphed into a plan. A plan to get to the destination that plagued your thoughts and dreams to no avail. Upon studying your plot further, you discovered that dangerous territory was to be explored if you wanted to reach paradise. A nasty threshold was to be crossed and it brought fear to the deepest parts of you. You remembered what someone told you once, something along the lines of, ”before the rainbow there was the storm.” And storm it did.

The increasing wetness on your body mixed with undying wind caused you to shiver. To be fair you were already quaking with fear, the weather no help to your cause. You had been pushed to your knees with your hands splayed out in front of you, weapons at the ready in case you decide to flee. A loud masculine voice booms in your ear clashing with the sounds of the storm.

“Keep your hands in front of you, or I swear to god I’ll fucking shoot you right here.”

The thought of losing your pathetic little life makes you wince in fear. Shoulders tighten and lock up so that not even the wind could shake you from your current position. The weight of your backpack helps with this process, making you grateful for any help in this moment. Now the only thing that shivers is your head, thoughts of perishing this way bouncing around your skull keeping you remaining completely still.

“Relax yourself soldier, they’re already on their knees.”

This voice is a new one. A woman. You don’t dare to look, too afraid of the scene in front of you. A group of bloodthirsty eyes all pointed in your direction is a sight that will haunt you forever, if you somehow make it out these woods. The hint of mercy that comes from the mystery woman’s lips makes you feel incipient hope. Surely if a woman could give a command, to no retaliation from a man, then the woman had to be in a place of authority. You thought that maybe she would continue to grace you with more mercy. Maybe she would spare your life.

Refusing to break your unwavering stare at the dirt in front of you, a pair of dirty converse enter your field of vision. They step closer and closer until finally the sight of a blue button up clad body crouches in front of you, interrupting your view of the ground. A body sort of small in stature, one you could only think belonged to the woman that showed you a small kindness. You are far too scared to make eye contact. Any movement coming from you was purely involuntary and completely fear induced. You couldn’t lift your head if you tried, undoubtedly frozen in submission.

A tattooed forearm snaps you back to reality. Connected to a hand that has risen from its resting place on the womans knee, to the under side of your chin. Two finger tips under your jaw raise your head slowly to meet the gaze of the woman in front of you. The look on her face is not at all what you were expecting.

Theres something about her eyes….

No. Her mouth. A quivering grin adorns her lips that oozes sinister. It appears as if she wants to smile wide at the sight of you, but her mouth fights in retaliation to let it show. So she beams elation with her eyes. Somehow they are simultaneously dark and wide. Simply put, crazy eyes pierce into you peeling away at what little courage you had left. Her fingers stroke your jaw lightly before falling to her sides.

“You’re shaking you poor thing.”

Theres not an ounce of sympathy that leaves her lips. Its amusement. You can tell the woman in front of you relishes at the sight of you cowering in fear. You dig deep to find whatever sliver of bravery you had left to speak up.

“S-soldier? What kind of army kills innocent people in the middle of the woods?”

You whisper shakily, cold and afraid that that even speaking would seal your fate. Finally a small, but prominent grin forms at the corner of her lips.

“Mmm” She nods. “You’re right. He’s not a soldier, we aren’t an army, and i’m not going to kill you.”

You look at her with curiosity painted on your face. She inches close enough to whisper in your ear, staring out into the forest behind you.

“First, Im going to play with you. If you win, you get to keep your life. If not, then I’ll kill you.”

Any semblance of hope had been officially snuffed out. You cant help but begin to cry. The woman’s face retracts slightly and looks at you feigning pity.

“Shh sh sh shhhh. Don’t cry? You don’t even know the rules of the game yet.”

It’s no use, whatever twisted plot she had in mind would be the death of you. You had lost all strength and the reason to keep fighting was nowhere in sight. You sob a little harder.

“I cant tell you the rules if you don’t quit the god damn crying.”

Your hands clench together collecting a fist full of mud. The pretend sympathy tone discarded for a moment, her commands are stern, threatening. The feeling of the earth in your palms and seeping through your fingers ground you slightly, however you shake harder due to her proximity and harsh demands. After a few measured breaths you find it in you to calm down enough for your sobs to dwindle into an occasional sniffle. Your neck strains fighting off the need to scream.

“Good.” She smooths her hands over her worn, torn, and faded blue jeans. A half grunt half sigh leaves her lips as she uses her knees to reposition to a stand.

“Heres whats going to happen. You’re going to run as fast as you can into these woods, and i’m going to try and catch you. Ill give you a head start obviously, because i’m not totally unfair. But you are literally running for your life so, run fast will you? Let’s make this interesting.”

A light scoff leaves your lips before you can bring yourself to stop it. Everything about this situation seemed totally unfair. She was about to hunt you for sport.

“How do I win?”

Your question comes as a surprise to the woman. Normally any another person would’ve taken off immediately after hearing the rules of her twisted game, seeking out as much time to get away from her before imminent death. A grin forms on her lips as a result of your determination to stay alive.

“You…my poor thing, win if you make it out of these woods. If you hide long enough, I’ll give up and let you go. I will warn you, its never come to that.”

She takes a step closer to you.

“Stand up.”

The pretend sympathetic tone leaves her voice once more at her command. You lean forward in order to unfold your knees from under you using the ground as leverage to stand. The ache of your knees extremely prominent as you straighten your body, you ignore it. It doesn’t matter now. It cant. Any pain that your body suffers was unimportant, you had to endure it all in order to survive.

Once you stand as tall as possible you realize your fists are still full of dirt at the unrelenting grasp you still had there. Your chin is lowered in fear of meeting the woman’s bloodthirsty gaze, afraid the look in her eyes would suck any will to fight out of your system. A few heavy breaths leave you while you do your best to calm yourself and enter the mind of a worthy opponent to her game. However your semi regulated breathing is interrupted once she raises her hand and slithers it around your throat.

Everything in you tenses. At first her touch is light, observant almost. She traces her finger over your pulse like it’s precious to her. A fire she cant wait to put out. Then her fingers strain and engulf your neck with a single hand, she pulls you close. So close that your ear is millimeters away from her lips. A tiny gasp escapes you at the tenderness of it all. You know she wants you dead, so why does she touch you like shes about to make love to you? The thought makes you shiver. Maybe she would, everything was already so fucked it wouldn’t surprise you if she had her way with you before she eventually slit your throat. That was the raider way.

Before you can add anymore weight to that possibility your thoughts were interrupted be the warm tickle of a word leaving the woman’s lips. One word.

“Run.”

Your hips are the first thing to move. A spin of your body sparks the shuffle of your feet that triggers your sprint into the trees behind you. The last thing to move are your arms, in attempt to phase the woman, you toss the dirt grasped in your hand in her face at a speed that renders her blind for a moment. Then you take off as fast as you can in hopes she doesn’t see what direction you run towards. A risky move, but one that works.

You hear the woman scream a pitched “SHIT!” at your diversion. Then it’s followed by a laugh. Her own laughter. It builds in an evil sort of way. Villainously. Amused by your deterrent and impressed by your resourcefulness, the woman shouts a praise that echoes through the forest, voice bouncing off the barks of trees that surround you.

“YOU’RE A TRICKY ONE AREN’T YOU? IM GOING TO ENJOY PLAYING WITH YOU.”

***

You cant remember how long you had been running but you wouldn’t dare stop. Searing pain courses through your body but still, you don’t stop. You haven’t heard many signs that the woman was on your tail so you thought that maybe you could make it out alive. That is until your left arm catches on a low hanging branch, rendering you incapacitated for a moment.

The branch must have snapped due to the storm, due to its broken nature it left behind something similar to a sharp spear/hook. The end of the branch pierces your arm in away that halts your running. Its hooks deep in your arm, the speed of your sprinting making you pull the wound open further before fully realizing you had been injured. Your right hand flies to your mouth, eyes grow wide as you fight the urge to scream in agony.

It doesn’t work fully. You muffle your sounds as much as you can but its no use. The pain is too much. You breathe with an extreme intensity, whimpering and grunting at the sight of fresh blood pouring out of you. The branch is still intact with your arm. You need to move. You take on last deep breath before removing your hand from your mouth and begin breathing through a pinhole formed between your lips. The shake of your head increases the closer your free hand gets to your arm. When you finally reach it, you place your hand on your elbow and breathe in deep. You needed to do this fast, if you retracted your arm slowly you would definitely scream.

The grip on your elbow tightens then you push up with your right hand, hard. The pain is similar to a bullet wound. It’s a sharp pain coursing through you. You keel forward at the feeling, biting your bicep to keep from shouting. You hold your arm for a moment before realizing bleeding out would leave a trail. So you take your right hand and reach around into your backpack and grab the last amount of gauze you had left.

Once you retrieve the material you hold it up to your arm and brace yourself for impact. You cant find it in you to suppress your extreme painfully induced shaking. You inhale once more before forming a thin line at your lips and begin to wrap your fresh wound. You whine at the feeling. It’s unlike any physical pain you had ever felt. Unenthusiastic to endure this for much longer, you quickly wrap the rest of your gauze and secure it with a small bow on the underside of your forearm.

Before you can close your backpack and begin running, a twig snaps behind you sending you running. Two measly steps is all that you can muster before you trip on a branch and fall to the ground. Contents of your backpack spill out infront of you. Fuck. fuckfuckfuck. You need to get it together. You cant stop now or you were dead.

“I found you.”

A familiar voice rings in your ears bringing a familiar terror that floods your senses. She found you and she was going to kill you. Her words from earlier haunt your brain. You cant move, frozen in place as she begins to make way towards you.

“My poor thing, are you hurt?”

The crunch of each step she makes rings louder and louder until finally an unmistakable step is placed right next to your ear. Face still close to the ground, you can smell the fresh wet dirt as the woman crouches next to you.

“What all this?” She questions observing the array of your items sprawled out on the forrest floor. As she collects your items you notice a particular one (that is favorite to you) had left the safety of your backpack. In fear that she might take it, this one possession you hold so dear, you speak up as she clutches the item in her grasp.

“Please. Dont take that.” You can barely rasp at a volume she can hear. She takes the item in for a moment holding it delicately in both hands.

“Where did you get this?” She asks, focused on the clearly damaged vinyl. It’s an old, dirty little thing now, but when you first found it the condition was mint.

It reads, ‘The Sick Habit’ in a scratchy font. A picture of the bands silhouettes artfully portrayed in white centers the cover with a faded shade of black decorating its background. Splotchy due to water damage from you keeping it in your backpack. The contrast of her fingers on its surface stands out to you. Fully aware of this precious item in her hands, the mere thought of the music you found so comforting passing onto another made your skin crawl.

The nature of this situation prevents you from answering her question. Now that she had found you , what was the point in engaging in trivial matters. You had no need to reminisce on memories that would soon be lost to nothingness. So you resort to silence.

For a moment the woman doesn’t notice your reluctance to speak. To your surprise she’s completely entranced by the vinyl. She crouches in a way so that one hand supports the record’s weight and the other explores its surface with a delicate touch of her finger tips. You watch as she traces its lettering, then swipes its cover with a slow drag of her palm. It’s nurturing, appreciative of its existence. Your gaze lifts to her face which renders you breathless for a moment. She sports a look entirely different from her usual demeanor. Its humanizing almost, a stark contrast to the evil persona shes put forward. The way her face twitches in excitement as she observes further, makes you become almost certain this a vinyl she had seen before. Maybe even one she listened to and liked herself.

“Strange.” You mutter, still wrapped up in the sight of her. Confused on how it was possible for someone like that to share something in common with you. Before you realize you had spoken aloud, the woman snaps out of her trance at the sound of your voice. Her eyes meet yours and you can tell something has changed. Her brows knit and breath doubles at the sight of you. Pink lips begin to part, formulating a sentence, but before she can speak a voice booms throughout the trees.

“ELLIE?”

A mans voice. An aggressive one. You look around for a moment making sure its source wasn’t near. Your eyes widen and your body begins to adjust, kicking into flight mode. However before you can move more than an inch a sharp slap at your neck causes you to freeze. The woman has a stone cold grip on you there now, vinyl no where to be seen. Now all you can look at is her in the eyes.

“ELLIE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

Another voice, louder than the last. It vibrates through you making you shake, yet you cant move much due to her hand around your throat. The warmth of her palm on your neck radiates through you. The air had been sucked out of you completely leaving you speechless with nothing but a sad look of plead to use on the woman at your disposal. Her eyes lack the same sense of evil from before. This was something else entirely. Her pupils dash back and forth at both of your eyes reading your unspoken, but clearly communicated begs for mercy. The grip on your neck tightens slightly for a moment as you notice the rising of her freehand. You tense at the action, afraid of what she has in store. Too afraid to look away you watch has her free hand slowly shifts into a fist formation with her pointer finger left extended.

“ELLIE!”

Another shout echoes loud, but this time you remain un phased as you watch the woman bring her pointer finger to her lips and breathe out a shaky “Shhhhhhhh.” Theres still that same craze in her eyes except now it’s smaller, replaced with something more cautious. Her hands relax and withdraw from their grip on you as the screams get louder. The eye contact you both share now is a contract of agreement. You were to stay silent and she wouldn’t hurt you. For now that was enough to keep you alive, so for now you obeyed. Not that you would rebel anyway, avoiding the angry men was in your best interest.

“ELLIE FOR FUCKS SAKE. YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING AROUND.”

This shout was too close for comfort, snapping you out of your focus on the woman’s eyes. You observe the forest for a moment, checking your surroundings for any sign that you might perish. As you turn your head back to the woman you see the figure of black shadow flying towards your direction before it slams against your skull.

Your vision fades to black and the last thing you see is her.

Before you can completely go numb to your senses your ears fill with loud remarks of one thing. An almost chant like repetition of what you could only assume was the woman’s name due to her ignoring its call.

“ELLIE?”

“ELLIE WHERE ARE YOU?”

“ELLIE?”

“ELLIE ARE YOU OUT THERE?”

“ELLIE.”

“ELLIE?”

“ELLIE!”

It builds louder and louder until finally your ears surrender to silence. The only thing that can leave you during your remaining seconds of consciousness is a pathetic whine of the name-

“Ellie.”

as you become completely numb.

Ellie.

Ellie..

Ellie….

…………

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #the last of us #tlou2 #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams fic #wlw #lesbian

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softxsuki · 1 year

Note

I feel like this is a weird request, and I just wanted to say before hand that I’m not in this situation anymore but sometimes I imagine something similar happened when it was in effect. Could you maybe write about the toman boys (as a group, as toman I mean) somehow finding out their friend is currently an active victim of sex trafficking? How they’d react to it and stuff? I think a lot of ppl dont realize a lot of times with kids it’s not being thrown in a cage or something, often they let you go to school and live a normal life too. If you feel the need to do research b4 writing BTW, I recommend watching some TIKTOKS by nicolegrows as she had a very similar experience to me

Toman with Reader Who is A Victim of Trafficking

DO NOT. I REPEAT. DO. NOT. READ THIS IF MENTIONS OF SEX TRAFFICKING WILL TRIGGER YOU!

Pairings: Toman x Gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of sex trafficking, needing counseling for trauma/PTSD

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 470

Summary: In which Toman finds out that you're actively a victim of sex trafficking

[A/N; Thanks for letting me know that this request was actually urgent. I just got a second today to write this. The best I could do was headcanons, because I physically couldn't write out a more detailed description of this scenario, but I hope it's helpful. You just said Toman, so I wrote how the gang as a whole would respond to finding out about this! I'm glad you made it through something as horrible as this. The world is a scary place.

cutting this here, incase anyone ignores my warnings. PROCEED WITH CAUTION PLS.

Okay well first of all, as soon as they find out that you’re in any kind of danger, Mikey commands everyone immediately to get into action to save you

You’re their friend; though not officially in the gang because they didn’t want to put you into any danger from the many enemies they have, you remained friendly with each other and hung out frequently

Baji was the one who noticed something strange, so he took matters into his own hands; he secretly followed you around and took note of any suspicious activity he saw from the people around you

But certain things made everything very clear and so he reported it all to Mikey right away, who them proceeded to act immediately

Their first step is taking you away from the people who are doing this to you–whether you’re aware of your situation or not; it doesn’t matter, they’re getting you out of there

It becomes a small operation, only the Captains and vice captains of the divisions along with Mikey and Draken are in charge of safely collecting you and ensuring that you never have to be in that environment again

They call the police to inform them, and show up to your “home” without their gang uniforms on–their job is to take you out of there, not draw attention to themselves and risk the perpetrators running off before the police even arrive. The police could deal with everything else when they got there

It took everything in Toman not to take their anger out on your “caretakers”; it was now Toman’s job to take care of you and give you a new home with them, not get in trouble and leave you alone

Obviously, you needed a lot of support from all your friends, and professional support as well, which they all helped you out with

Mitsuya was probably the one you ended up confiding in the most–being as he was an older brother to his younger sisters, you felt especially safe with him

But aside from him, the boys all made you feel very welcome and safe

If they weren’t protective of you before, they definitely were now

Mikey had ordered someone to always be on guard of you at all times, if he wasn’t available to do it (he usually was, but in the rare case that he couldn’t, another toman member would quietly be keeping an eye on you from afar)

You’d most likely be living with Mikey and his Grandfather, who treated you with so much kindness and understanding after Mikey explained everything to the older man

You were Toman’s family now and they’d do anything to make sure you continued your life the way you were meant to live it; helping you with anything you needed in the process to recover and overcome everything that had happened to you.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 5/11/2023

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #toman x reader #mikey x reader #mitsuya x reader #baji x reader #draken x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers comfort #tokyo rev comfort

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underoossss · 1 year

Text

What I Like About You – S.H

pairing: steve harrington x drummer!girlfriend (friends to lovers goodness)

warnings: one annoying dudebro, some curse words, other than that nothing.

an: i know i haven’t posted in a while so thank you for being patient with me while i got my shit together. i dedicate this to you💖 Enjoy and let me know if you liked it!!

Masterlist part two

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Hurry up! We’re going to miss it!” Robin calls over her shoulder as she dashes out of his parked car and towards the front door. “We probably did!”

“Wait up.” Steve says to no avail; Robin runs inside a second later, leaving him behind.

Stepping out of the car and locking the doors, Steve stuffs his hands inside his jacket pockets. Keith had them work until past 7 tonight, making them late to see Robin’s crush perform—she had a band that plays here every Friday according to Robin, sort of like Eddie’s but less metal, more Rock Pop. She’d begged Steve to drive her tonight, but had her hopes crushed when Keith didn’t let them leave an hour earlier. So here they are, one hour after showtime, and from what Steve can make out the band is still playing. The moment he steps through the door music floods his ears, and he takes notice of how packed the place is. There’s probably close to a hundred people at Annie’s 50 of which are gathered in front of the stage; Robin had stayed by the door waiting for him, or maybe just staring at the lead singer in awe.

Annie’s is a new spot everyone has been hanging out at for the past couple of months. From what Steve can tell, it’s a diner that’s been remodelled into something more youthful looking. It looks like a diner but the tables are gone and the bright lights have been replaced with dimmer ambience lights. The red cushioned booths have been scattered around for people to sit, and high tables are scattered here and there for people to chat while they eat the fried food from the kitchen. There’s a stage towards the left side of the place, where the band is playing– Kelli, Robin’s crush, sings while her two bandmates play in the back. The place feels slightly too warm but everyone is jumping around or singing as best they can to the band’s rendition of Van Halen’s Beautiful Girls. Kelli keeps the crowd entertained, dancing around the stage in her black combat boots and ripped jeans. She laughs with her band mates and jokes around with them, but their playing isn’t fazed at all by her antics. They only laugh and keep playing. Steve wonders briefly what the band’s name is, he hasn’t heard of it and Robin forgot to tell him. But given the number of people singing along and cheering by the front of the stage, they’re pretty popular. His eyes wander to the drum set on stage and instantly spot the name there. Hot Pink Melody.

Huh. Steve moves his gaze up towards the drummer and back to Robin’s crush, before he whips his head back to do a double take. He looks at the drummer again, and his mind goes instantly blank. Steve apologizes if he every called bullshit on love at first sight, because he’s sure this is it. You’re sitting there, rocking out to the song, singing the background vocals as you play the drums, and smiling a mega-watt confident smile. In just one second Steve is a goner.

“She’s so hot.” Robin says besides him, from where they managed to find a little bit of room to see the show from the back. Her eyes are glued to Kelli, but Steve’s are glued to you.

“She’s so hot.” Steve echoes, eyes not leaving you. His gaze jumps from your beautiful smile, to the half ponytail your hair is in, to the way the sleeves of your white t-shirt are rolled up to your shoulders, showing off your arms as you play. But it’s your contagious energy, which already has him tapping his foot to the rhythm, that has him hypnotized with no escape in sight.

“She’s so cool.”

“She’s amazing.” Steve says and something in his voice makes Robin turn back to him and follow his gaze. He sees her smile knowingly and nod out of his periphery.

“That’s YN, you should know her from high school but I’m talking about Kelli.”

He’s not paying much attention to what Robin says as his mind goes over you name, repeating it on a loop. He goes over his memories and finds you briefly in random days during high school but other than that he’s never talked to you before. How has he never noticed you before. “I want to...”

“Kiss her silly.” Robin nods, thinking she guessed what he was going to say correctly. It might have been true for her and Kelli, but Steve was thinking about something else.

“What!? No.” Steve shakes his head, then glances back to you. “Be her boyfriend.”

“But you also want to kiss her silly, I can see you staring at her.” Robin nudges his arm with her elbow twice, before she focuses on the lead singer once more.

Steve rolls his eyes but concedes because he does. “Okay, yes.”

“Remember we are not here for you! You’re supposed to be my wingman tonight.”

“I know that.” Steve rolls his eyes with a nod and goes back to watching you when the crowd claps as the song ends. “And I am, but you have to help me out too. Introduce me.”

“Deal.” Robin leans closer to talk to him over other people’s cheers. “Now shh! Kelli’s talking.”

“Thank you!” Kelli says over the microphone smiling at the crowd. “This is out last song for the night, so make some noise! Y/N take it away, girl.”

“If you know this next song, I hope you sing along with us.” The microphone amplifies your voice as you speak, the confident smile on your face making another appearance. You hold your drumsticks up in the air and tap them against each other to give the guitarist a beat. “One, two… one, two, three, go!”

The guitarist starts strumming the first chords of Blondie’s One Way or Another and the room erupts into cheers for the iconic song. You begin to play a few seconds later —a strong hit to the cymbals— until Kelli joins in with the first few lyrics of the song. Robin cheers loudly along with the crowd and it makes Steve laugh and join in.

He sings along, eyes unable to stray away from you. If your energy levels were high when he first saw you, they’re through the roof with this song. Especially when the bridge comes along, and you keep the beat going while everyone stomps their feet on the ground alongside you. Steve smiles, not helping himself, and decides to use the last minute the song has left to work up the courage to talk to you. He has to.

Robin sings along with Kelli, screaming the lyrics and absolutely thrilled that her crush likes Blondie just like her. Steve knows she totally has a chance with the lead singer, and it brings a grin to his face before he directs his gaze back to the stage. The song picks up the pace once more and suddenly, most likely due to Steve’s intense staring, you meet his eyes across the room. Steve feels his traitorous stomach flip but doesn’t chicken out, he keeps his eyes on yours. He sees you now, he regrets never doing so before. You smile for a second before you look down at your drum kit, your smile becoming shy as the song comes to an end.

“Thank you! Thank you! We’re the Hot Pink Melody, see you next Friday everyone!” Kelli says into the microphone, then motions towards the guitarist and you. “Give it up for my girls, they did a great job tonight.”

People applaud, whistle, yell and cheer, and Steve finds that he’s doing the same; it really was a good show, it’s a shame he didn’t get here on time. The lights on the stage go out after a minute and not much later the crowd out front starts to spread around the dinner now that the live music is done for the night.

“It’s now or never. Come on” Robin says, grabbing Steve’s wrist and pulling him along with her. “Come on, Steve.”

“Wait, where are we going?” He asks as they make their way through the crowd of people around him. He throws sorry’s here and there every time Robin makes him bump into someone else. “We’re not going to–”

“To the stage!” Robin says, looking back at him and almost colliding with a waiter and his tray of fried food. “So I can introduce you to your girl, that way you can help me out with mine!”

Steve tries to say something but they’re suddenly on the side of the stage. You’re standing there, putting your drumsticks back into their case and disconnecting various cables from the amps. He sees Kelli on the other side of the stage, talking to a lot of people, and the guitarist is showing off her guitar to a couple of girls who approach her.

“Great gig, babe.” Robin tells you, which makes you turn around. Your eyes light up when you see her and you’re quick to give her a hug.

“Robs, I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” You take a step back to look at her. “Thank you! You look great, did you get a haircut?”

“Only being honest, and I gave myself a haircut.” She holds her hands up and winks, before she remembers Steve. “Oh, YN this is Steve, my personal chauffeur.”

You scoff playfully, and Steve can tell that you know Robin’s bluffing. Then your eyes are on him, and he feels his mind go blank again; you have the prettiest eyes Steve’s ever seen.

“Hey, Steve. I hope you enjoyed the show.” You smile at him.

“Hi… I– I did! It was great.” Steve says, his mind and his mouth struggling to sync up. “We could only listen to the last two songs, but they were amazing.”

“Yeah, we had to work late tonight.” Robin rolls her eyes with a huff. “But the last two songs, incredible.”

“Thank you, although that’s mostly all Kelli.” You tell them, motioning towards the blonde who’s waving goodbye to the people she was talking to. Steve follows your gaze and so does Robin, who keeps staring at the vocalist for more than a couple of seconds.

“You know, you should just talk to her Robin.” You nudge her with you elbow, an encouraging look in your eyes. “She knows me, I know you. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

“And risk making a fool of myself? No.” Robin shakes her head, a panicked look settling on her face.

“You won’t make a fool of yourself. She’s the girl of your dreams, Robin, you have to at least take a chance and try to get to know her more. Right?” You direct your gaze towards Steve, urging him to back you up with a look.

Steve nods, words stuck in his mouth before he clears his throat. “Yeah, Robs. You said you’d talk to her tonight.”

“I’ll introduce you. Let’s go right now.” You volunteer with a smile, hooking your arm on hers so she won’t walk away. It makes Steve chuckle, it’s the same thing Robin did to him just seconds ago.

“I guess you’re my wingman now.” Robin tells you in defeat, then looks at Steve. “Sorry, dingus.”

Steve can only shrug. “I was going to be charming but…”

“I think she’s got more charm than you.” Robin winks, meaning She really charmed you, and then she leaves with you dragging her to the other side of the stage. Steve follows you with his gaze, and sees how you introduce Robin to Kelli –who immediately starts chatting away with Robin. Steve doesn’t need to see Robin’s face to know she has a lovesick look on her face; he smiles, she’ll be more than okay.

“Steve Harrington.” Eddie Munson appears behind Steve’s back, which makes him jump. “What brings you here tonight.”

“Munson.” Steve nods his head. “Robin asked me to drive her, but this place ended up being pretty cool.”

“Better than the Hideout right?” Eddie teases then laughs when Steve rolls his eyes at the memory of the place.

“I think anything is better than the Hideout.” He tells Eddie, chuckling along with him.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks, curious. “I didn’t know you hung out here too.”

“I’m here to check out the competition.” Eddie grins slyly, then spots you coming back to where they stand and his eyes light up mischievously. “Oh I see Harrington, you’re here to help me convince buttercup here to play for my band.”

So everyone knows you, but me, Steve thinks.

“Eddie.” You roll your eyes but smile anyways. It’s easy to assume that you’re used to him asking you to leave your band, but he can’t really imagine you playing with another group. The friendship you have with yours was obvious in your performance.

“But you already have a drummer.” Steve thinks out loud, making you smile in triumph — it lights up your entire face, and all the air in Steve’s lungs disappears in a second.

“See, Steve is on my side, not yours.” You tell Eddie, looking victorious as you shrug.

“What can I do to convince you then?” Eddie asks conspiratorially.

“Admit defeat. You’d have to fight my band and I don’t think you’d win.” You smile innocently. “They need me.”

“She’s got a point. Ugh, help me out here, Harrington.” Eddie asks him, clapping his shoulder to urge him into his defence.

Steve laughs, assuming this is an antic the two of you usually partake in. He can only put his hands up and shake his head. “Looks like she’s made up her mind, man.”

“I have.” You confirm with a decisive nod.

Eddie surrenders with a small bow in front of you. “Another day then.” He says, starting to walk away but not without taking notice of Steve’s lovestruck gaze towards the drummer. “I…gotta get going but take care of buttercup here, alright Harrington. She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

You meet Steve’s gaze –your eyes wide– before you look away shyly. Steve smiles, finding it endearing how you shy away from compliments.

“She is.” Steve says and decides that your shy smile is his new favourite thing in the whole world.

“Thank you, Steve.” You bring one of your hands to the back of your neck as Eddie leaves the two of you alone. “So… what have you been doing? I’ve never actually seen you around anymore since you finished high school.”

Steve chuckles and rubs his chin as he looks at you, remembering how he was thinking about the same thing earlier. “Uh, I worked at Scoops Ahoy one summer, but after what happened to the mall I’ve been working over at Family Video.”

He thinks his answer is stupid, and not at all impressive, for just one second until your eyes light up suddenly.

“Oh my brother John loves FV!” You tell him enthusiastically as you sit on top of big metal box nearby. “You’ve probably seen him loads of times, he’s always there on Fridays renting for the weekend.”

Steve goes over your words for a bit –trying to place a John that always visits on Fridays– until he remembers a guy that went to the store today. His hair was just like yours, and now that he thinks about it, he did look a lot like you. “Yeah, I think I know who you mean.”

You smile and Steve feels his breath stutter.

Trying very hard to keep himself calm and collected, Steve asks you a question this time —eager to know you more. “What about you? You’re graduating with Robin right?”

“Yeah, I… um work on the café on Main Street after class every day.” You shrug your shoulders and look down at your dangling feet. “I’m saving for college.”

Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle as confusion makes its appearance on his face. “The gigs don’t pay you?”

“Oh, they do, but we only play once a week and split it 3 ways… so it’s not a lot.” You chuckle meeting Steve’s eyes with your own. “The other job helps.”

Steve hums, contemplating your answer. He’s seen many bands over the years and none of them have been as good as yours. And he’s not saying that only because of his crush. “They should pay you more, you’re very talented.”

You shy away from the compliment again, just as Steve was expecting you to. “Thank you, Steve. I guess we just need more experience before we ask for a raise.” You laugh softly as you shake your head, unaware of how Steve’s stomach flips at the sound. But he’d never admit to it out loud.

“I need your help with something over here for a bit!” The lead guitarist tells you after calling your name. “Please.”

You turn your head to look at her and nod before looking at Steve once more. “That’s Sarah, our guitarist.” You tell Steve with an apologetic smile as you hop off the box you were sitting in. “I should umm… go help her.”

“Wait.” Steve says then runs a hand through his hair to get some courage. Words start to escape him, but he doesn’t let them. This is the girl of your dreams, you’d told Robin. Well, it’s the same for him with you right now. He takes a step closer to you. “Would you like to go out for dinner… with me?”

You smile at him, surprise evident in your features but no rejection in sight. Steve feels like a helium balloon, about to float and fly towards the ceiling. “Like a date?” You ask, your pretty eyes lighting up with hope. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah, a date.”

He nods and you nod too –both of you unsure of what to say next, both flustered beyond belief.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asks you, hoping that you’ll be free. Is this too much? How obvious is it that he really wants to see you again?

“Y-Yeah, 6 is good.” You smile widely then bite your lip like you don’t want to give it away. It makes Steve want to untuck it from your teeth gently with his thumb, then kiss you; would it make your skin buzz just like his is at the thought?

“Okay, yeah.” Steve nods, shaking the thoughts away and clearing his throat. “I’ll… umm pick you up at 6. Where?”

“Robin knows my address” You smile at him once more, then wave goodbye before you turn back to the stage. Then you meet his eyes over your shoulder, grinning softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Steve gives you a pathetic wave back and nods like a fool as you walk away towards your band mates. You’d said yes, he’s seeing you tomorrow, and if he’s not reading this wrong… you feel some of what he’s feeling right now. Steve looks around the diner and tries to find Robin, she’s not going to believe this.

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

Steve Harrington is picking you up at your house any minute now, so why does it still feel like you made up everything that happened last night? Out of everything that you could expect to happen at a gig, the last thing that would have come to your mind is Steve Harrington walking through the door. Scratch that. Steve Harrington watching you in awe as you played, completely unaware of how nervous he was making you with those pretty eyes of his.

You were never going to deny the hopeless crush you had on him when he was still at Hawkins High; something you were quick to crush down, no pun intended, when you realized you probably had no chance with him. So you stayed in the background and only stared after him whenever he passed by, heart fluttering in your chest traitorously. Last night though, the same fluttering appeared in your chest when him and Robin approached you after the show. It intensified when he gave you one of his disarming smiles, and it all but burst when he looked just as nervous as you felt when asking you out. He’d changed, you’d heard that much from Robin who’s now his best friend, but you’d finally seen it last night. Steve Harrington was finally acting like himself. He smiled freely, carried himself in a carefree way, and for the first time you saw him look genuinely happy.

You can’t exactly explain the way seeing him like that made you feel, but your hopeless crush was back –more hopeless than ever. Oh, and he asked you out.

You’d spent an hour raiding your closet to find what to wear because you didn’t know where Steve would take you. You’d narrowed your choices to three different options but settled for your favourite dress with your nicest pair of high tops. After a quick shower and checking the clock to see how you were doing with time, you’d settled in front of the mirror to get ready. Which is where you are now, applying the peach-coloured lip gloss you’d gotten today. You went for a light of makeup, mostly to cover the dark circles under your eyes, but also because you always feel your best when you look your best. Leave it to a good outfit and your hair styled to your liking to boost your confidence. Considering how sweaty you must have been last night, this is most likely a huge upgrade from how Steve saw you last time.

Almost as if you conjure him with your mind, the doorbell rings and you spring up to your feet. You feel a smile appear on your face even as your stomach flips with nerves; you take your small purse with you and go out of your room. As you reach the last step of the staircase you take a deep breath and walk to the door, ready to go on the date you only ever dreamed of.

Steve Harrington stands on your porch in all his handsome glory. He’s wearing a pair of those perfect-fitting jeans of his and a dark blue polo. Simple but perfect, especially with those brown locks of his. You bite back a smile as you look him over once before locking the door behind you. If only your past self could see you now.

“Hi.” Steve smiles the moment he sees you and it lights up his face. “Wow, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smile back at him, feeling shy under his gaze but looking into his eyes anyways. “You look great too.”

He chuckles, looking down at his shoes briefly before looking at you again. “I got you these.” A second later he shows you some flowers he was hiding behind his back. “I didn’t know which ones you like.”

You take the small bouquet from him and touch the soft petals with your fingers. A smile appears on your face at their beauty– an assortment of pink and orange flowers: daisies, small carnations, and lilies. “Steve, I love them.” You tell him truthfully, your heart fluttering inside your chest. “I’ll take them with me.”

“Alright.” Steve nods, a happy smile on his face. “Let’s go then. The place I have in mind is a bit of a drive away.”

You take the hand he offers you and give it a squeeze when you feel your skin buzz at the contact. You wonder if he feels it too only for a moment because one second later, he squeezes your hand back.

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

The place Steve had in mind ended up being a cool pizza place 30 minutes outside of Hawkins. It stood out in the darkening sky, its colourful neon sign shining its light on Steve’s car as he looked for a parking spot. It was very creatively called A Pizza Place, and the name alone made a laugh burst out of you.

“I like this place already.” You told Steve, who smiled at you.

“I had a feeling you would.” He said.

Once inside and waiting in line, you find that the restaurant is lovely in a strange and colourful way. The concept seems to be dinner, meets cinema, meets roller skating rink lighting. But, if you’re being honest, it works for them. Most important of all, it’s unique –everything from the movie posters on the wall, the pop music playing through the speakers, and the black and white floors make you smile. You’ve never been to a place like this.

“Steve.” You smile as you turn to him. He’s still holding your hand; he has been since he opened the door for you when you arrived —the bouquet he gave you is held carefully in your other hand. “How did you find this place?”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, “I was driving around once and found it. It’s not only pretty, wait till you try the pizza”

You smile and look over the toppings displayed behind the counter. “Hmm, they do have lots of options.”

“You got any toppings in mind?” Steve asks you as the line moves up a spot.

“I actually like almost every topping. I usually mix them up.” You smile at him. “You got any favourites?”

“I like all of them.” Steve tells you, your hand moving slightly as he shrugs his shoulders. “Let’s mix them up.”

You beam, stepping closer to him until you’re shoulder to shoulder. “Okay. How about… pepperoni with…”

“Mushrooms,” Steve suggests after scanning the menu again.

“And black olives?” You tilt your head in question, glancing at Steve to see if he’s okay with the third topping.

“Sounds like we’re going to have a delicious pizza in our hands.” He smiles and squeezes your hand.

“Well if we do we’ll have to name it after us.” You tell him, “It’s only fair.”

“You’re right, but there’s only one way to find out if it’s worth it.” Steve says looking at you with a soft yet playful look in his eyes. “We gotta try it first.”

Twenty minutes later, and a mouthful of pizza you find that it is in fact worthy of your names.

“We’re geniuses!” Steve declares, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling as you continue to chew on your bite. “This is officially the best pizza I’ve had.”

“You’re absolutely right.” You nod and take a sip of your cola, “I think it’s the olives, right?”

“Yeah, definitely, so much better than regular pepperoni.” Steve nods exaggeratedly and it makes you laugh. He shifts closer to the edge of his seat, “So…”

“So.” You grin, leaning your elbows on the table as you lock your gaze with his. When was the last time you smiled this much?

“When did you start to play the drums?” Steve asks, taking another slice of pizza, looking at you with curiosity –like he truly wants to know you better.

“My dad played, so he taught me,” You tell him, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to remember how old you were. “I think I was eleven then.”

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise like he wasn’t expecting your dad to be a drum player too. It’s everyone’s usual reaction. “That’s cool, does he come to your gigs?”

“No.” You say trying to keep the disappointment from showing in your smile, the last thing you want is to ruin the mood of your date. “He left us when I was twelve and… I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Oh… shit I’m sorry.” Steve’s surprise turns into mortification.

“No, you’re fine. I’m okay with it, it’s just a story for another time.” You shrug and try to reassure him; he looks more than guilty to have made you step into this conversation but you’re quick to move on.

“I needed extra lessons after he left since he only taught me the basics, so I went to this small music class every afternoon.” You continue, chuckling at the memory. “My teacher was the same as Sarah’s; she’s the–”

“The lead guitarist from your band.” Steve nods, all of his attention solely on you.

“Yes,” You smile, “We ended up learning our instruments together and practised different songs as the years went by. By the time we were both 15, Kelli moved into town and ended up in our music class because she wanted to be a singer.”

“So it was fate for the three of you,” Steve takes another bite of pizza

You take a small one too, which you chew quickly so you can continue. “Yes, soon we started to cover different songs until we found our rhythm as a group. Then in high school when we needed jobs, we decided to record our cover of Blondie’s Call Me, so we could play it for different restaurants and see if they would hire us.”

“You guys really like Blondie, right?” Steve asks you, not in a judging way but with genuine curiosity. It makes something like butterflies fly in your stomach.

“It’s our favourite.” You confirm with a smile.

“Sorry, I interrupted. What happened after you recorded the song?” Steve leans his forearms on the table, listening intently to your words.

“We carried a Walkman with us so people could hear the song and it got us small gigs here and there.” You take another bite of your pizza and shrug. “None of them stuck; Annie’s is our first real one, she hired us for all Friday nights until the end of the year.”

“That’s huge, the place was packed last night.” Steve leans back and holds his hands up dramatically. “I could barely see you guys play from the back.”

You nod and laugh. “Yeah, it’s become a great spot to hang out and listen to live music. Other bands play there too, like Eddie’s but he has Thursday nights.”

“I heard you sing last night; do you ever sing with Kelli?” Steve tilts his head slightly with the question.

You feel your ears burning as you chuckle in embarrassment. “No… I leave that to Kelli. I can only sing background vocals.”

“You have a really nice voice,” Steve smiles widely and you shy away from the awe in his eyes, just like yesterday. He chuckles like he was expecting your reaction.

You take a sip from your cola and pick up your pizza slice again, deciding to take the attention away from you. “I’m talking too much and haven’t let you say a word.”

“That’s because my life is pretty boring.” Steve tells you as you take a bite.

“Not true,” You shake your head, covering your mouth as you speak, “And even if it is, I’d still like to hear about it.”

Steve smiles, playing with his napkin before looking into your eyes. There’s a vulnerability shining there that makes you pause for a second. “What do you want to know?”

Everything about you, you think, but decide to say instead, “Anything you feel like sharing.”

He smiles and begins to tell you about his first job. Which leads the story to the kids he babysits now and then. He pretends to be annoyed by this fact, but when he tells you about the free icecream he gave them. and how he’s helped them with bullies; or whatever trouble they get themselves in, you realize it’s all bluff. He’s fond of those kids, and you can bet your college savings those kids like him to bits. The conversation is easy, its lighthearted at times but also deep and emotional at times. Steve tells you about his struggling relationship with his dad and you tell him about your past struggles at home, how hard it was when your dad left you all behind.

Time passes like a blur around you, food slowly disappearing as you hear the other talk –you don’t even realize when you started to hold hands over the table. By the time the stars are out in the sky and only 3 slices of pizza are left, the two of you have shifted closer to the table, leaning closer to hear the other with your full attention. Warmth floods your body at the way Steve looks at you and it feel like stepping into a patch of sun during a cold day. You like this boy so much.

“What?” Steve asks you quietly as you lean your cheek on your free hand to look at him.

“Nothing you’ve told me has been boring.” You smile, enjoying the way his lips mirror it a second later and a lovely pink paints the apple of his cheeks. “I don’t think I’d ever describe you as boring, Steve.”

Steve seems flustered at your words, or just not used to receiving that many compliments, either way you don’t push him. Instead, you slide the hand that’s holding his up to his wrist and turn it towards you slightly to check the time on his watch. 10:30.

You sigh and frown in defeat. “I don’t want to leave but I think we have to get going.”

“Curfew?” Steve asks.

You nod, “Yeah, 11 sharp.”

“Let’s go then.” Steve takes your hand once more and brings it to his lips as the two of you stand up.

So you take your pink bouquet from where it lies on the table and walk back to his car hand in hand. You look for a good radio station to listen to on the ride home and don’t feel surprised anymore when Steve takes your hand again once it becomes free. He holds it between the two of you over the centre console tapping his thumb over the back of your hand to the beat of the music; you’re starting to catch on that physical touch seems to be his love language and you don’t mind it one bit. From then on, it’s soft melodies and quiet conversation as you leave A Pizza Place Behind, and it makes the next 30 minutes go by too quickly for your own liking. The last thing you want is for the night to end —to leave Steve’s side. You don’t remember the last time you felt so comfortable, so listened to, so… you.

Once back in Hawkins and in front of your home, Steve opens the door for you and walks you to the porch.

“I had a great time.” You tell him, looking down at the flowers and then at him. “Thank you, Steve.”

He steps closer to you and pushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m glad.” He says gently, grinning. “Can I ask you out on another date?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip, trying to keep your smile from growing. “You know where to find me.”

He nods, “I know.”

The two of you hesitate, not awkwardly but unwilling to leave the other’s side. It’s like tonight made you grow used to each other’s company and now neither of you want to go back to being alone. A moment later, Steve’s eyes move briefly to your lips, and you feel your ears burning when yours do the same and look at his. You move them back to his eyes instantly, pretending you’re not dying to kiss him. You are. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about kissing him, ever, but you chicken out; all the courage you had left fizzling out for the night.

You lean on your tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek, lingering close for a moment. “Goodnight, Steve. Drive safe.”

Steve nods slowly, eyes following your every move with affection. “Night.” He says before you smile go inside your house, just as the clock strikes 11.

If you’d turned around once more, you’d seen the love stuck look on Steve’s face as he stared after you, willing it to be tomorrow already.

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Here’s the last song of the night, so I want to hear you sing along!” Kelli addresses the crowd before pointing at Sarah. The guitarist starts to play the opening riff of What I Like About You and the crowd –as always– floods Annie’s with cheers.

Unlike the first time he saw you play, Steve is now in the middle of the crowd; he places his hands around his mouth as he cheers as Robin jumps up and down next to him. In the three months you’ve been dating, the Friday night crowd at Annies has more than doubled, all for Hot Pink Melody. Steve can’t even begin to describe how proud of you he feels, Annie even gave your band a raise as a thank you for improving her business. How could she not, when the three girls playing in front of him enchant the whole place with electric enthusiasm and contagious energy.

He knew he was a goner from the first night he was here, and every day he grows even more mesmerized by you. Even right now, as he sings along and enjoys the show with Robin by his side, his eyes stay glued to you. The way you play out of memory, interacting with your bandmates as you do and never missing a bit. You even wink at Steve as you sing the background vocals with Kelli. You know you look good, and confident, and sweaty in a way that makes Steve’s weak at the knees. He fucking blushes, from just that wink. He can only shake his head at you while he smiles; he sees you hold back a laugh and it makes the itching to get closer to you, hold you, worse. Do you know how crazy you drive him?

His feet move towards the stage the minute the concert is over, and his heart skips several beats when he sees you’re running to meet him half way. The smile on your face is wide as you throw your arms around him for a hug. Steve’s wrap themselves securely around your waist as he spins you around; your face is on his neck as you laugh and Steve squeezes you tighter.

“You were amazing, babygirl.” He places three kisses on your cheek when you pull away and it makes you giggle. It makes Steve entire day.

“Steve, I’m sweaty.”

“So what?” He chuckles, “You know I don’t mind. Do you want some water?” He pecks your lips and feels so so in love.

You nod your head, stealing a kiss to his cheek. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

You nod again and watch him walk away to the counter where 3 other people stand in line, ready to order. After a quick glance back to the stage, you spot Robin talking to Kelli, their hands clasped between them. You smile fondly, knowing that they make each other so happy. Not unlike you and Steve; it seems crazy to think you’ll have been dating for 4 months next week. Is it too soon for you to say I love you, and does Steve feel that way too. You’ve just started to walk back to the stage to start gathering up your things when someone stops you.

“Hey sweetheart, nice playing up there.” It’s some guy you’ve never seen before, and the way his eyes look at you makes you squirm with discomfort.

“Uh thanks.” You dismiss him with a tight-lip grin and try to continue towards the stage.

He follows you until he’s stepping in your way. “Maybe you can come to my place for a drink. I’m having people over.” He tries to take a step closer to you but you take one back.

“I’m not interested, thank you.” You reply curtly, trying to side-step him. “If you’ll excuse me.”

As per usual, a negative answer seems to mean everything but a no in his language. “Come on you know you want to.” He steps in front of you again and moves to grab your wrist, but you yank it away from him before he can.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” You finally let your temper show, beyond annoyed with the man in front of you. Your eyebrows pinch together, and your lips turn into a sneer.

Before he can say anything else, Steve appears by your side and pushes him away while simultaneously wrapping a protective arm around your waist. The water bottle he’s holding is cool against your skin but you don’t mind, feeling safe by his side. “You got a problem here babe?” Steve turns briefly to ask you before staring down the guy in front of you, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

You shake your head. “I think he got the picture.”

“Don’t you dare try to touch her, or bother her again, you hear me?” Steve’s voice is low and menacing; a quick glance his way allows you to see the anger in his features. Steve is pissed off.

The other guy only nods yieldingly before Steve stirs the two of you away towards the stage. You’ve never seen him shoot daggers out of his eyes before, and you’re thankful for his help. But you also wany to ease the tension that has fallen over his body, so you urge him to sit down on the stage and step between his thighs.

Your hands hold his face gently. “Thank you, Stevie.” You brush your thumb over his forehead, erasing the furrow of his brows. “Don’t worry, I’m okay. Let’s just forget about it.”

“Okay,” Steve nods and you lean down to peck his lips. He grins and gives you the water bottle, “Here you go, babe.”

“Thank you.” You run a hand through his hair then motion towards the equipment behind him. “Let’s go load up the van before we go home.”

Steve waits for you to have some water before he stands and steps on the stage. He offers you his hand and just like clockwork the two of you begin unplugging all the instruments and mics. Steve’s been helping you every Friday, so he’s more than familiar with the process. So is Robin, who comes over with Kelli and Sarah help you pack everything up. Once everything is ready, each one of you takes something to carry out to the van that’s parked by Annie’s back door. Robin huffs as she carries an amp, refusing to carry something lighter because that’s what the patriarchy wants her to do. Steve has to take over in the end when she puts the amp back on the floor, halfway to the van. It takes the five of you 30 minutes to load up the van and secure everything in place, but soon enough Sarah is driving the van to her place, giving Robin a Kelli a ride to their respective houses.

Despite your tired arms, you swing the hand that’s holding Steve’s back and forth between you. It’s a long way back to the parking lot from the back of the building, but neither of you mind. The air hasn’t cooled much despite it being autumn already but it’s cool enough that you enjoy the breeze. After hours inside the crowded restaurant, it is more than welcome. A few minutes later you arrive to Steve’s car in the back of the parking lot. There are many cars still outside Annie’s but no one out there with you, so naturally Steve wastes no time kissing you.

He smiles as he presses your back against the passenger’s door and holds your waist while his lips leave you breathless. Steve is practically buzzing with energy when his hands move under your t-shirt, his warm skin touching the softness of your waist above your jeans. It makes you lightheaded, him showing you his emotions shamelessly.

“You were. So amazing tonight.” He says in-between kisses, words mumbled against your lips. He leans back and shakes his head, “Fuck baby, you’ve got any idea of how hot you look when you’re performing?”

His mouth is on yours again a second later, teeth catching on your bottom lip before his own soothe it with another kiss. “I mean, you always do, but when you’re up there… it’s magic.”

You feel him smile against your lips and you lean away to brush your nose against his —slightly out of breath and full of love. Your eyes gaze into his own that are looking at you so softly, you don’t know what you did to deserve it. Steve’s love is so intense, so warm, it makes your skin hum and an incredulous smile appear on your face.

Steve smiles back. “What?” He brings a hand up from your waist to your face, caressing it softly with the back of his fingers; his other remains on your waist, thumb rubbing your skin back and forth.

“It’s just that since the girls and I started the band, we’ve had more and more people come to our shows…”

“Good, you guys are great.” He nods.

You smile, “Yes, and those people are all Kelli’s fans, which I’m more than okay with! I just never thought I’d have a fan of my own…that you would be my biggest fan.”

“I’m sure you have other fans babe, but you’re right.” He beams at you, “I’m your biggest fan, I’ll always be because the most talented person I know happens to be my girl.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

You smile at him, shying away from his adoring gaze and dipping your chin to your chest. “Thank you, Stevie.”

Steve chuckles and brings your gaze back to his by gently holding you chin between his thumb and index finger. “How is it, that you play and sing one night a week in front of so many people easily… but you shy away when it’s only me?” His eyes get impossibly softer, making your stomach flip incessantly. “Not that I don’t love it.”

You shake your head. “Those people aren’t you, Stevie. They don’t look at me the way you do.”

“And how is that?” He asks in a whisper, brushing his lips against yours briefly.

“Like you can see right through me.” You tell him softly, breathlessly. Honesty coats your words. “Like I’m precious to you.”

“You are precious to me.” He pecks your lips again, smiling when you do.

“Stevie.” You say, breath mingling with his, your eyes meeting his cedar brown ones. “I’m so in love with you, and telling you feels like falling down a rollercoaster, but I can’t keep it from you anymore.”

Steve’s lips spread into a big smile, the kind that wrinkles the corners of his eyes before he leans down to kiss you. His other hand travels up your body to hold your face as he kisses you slow and sweet. It’s a gentle caress of lips, his own hushed love confession in his love language. “You made me fall for you that very first night I saw you up on that stage.” He tells you softly.

“You did on our first date.” You share with a smile.

“So I win.” He smiles triumphantly, and his eternally competitive nature gets a loud laugh out of you, head thrown back. Steve being the menace he is, takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck, which spurs on your laughter.

“I think that means I win.” You giggle.

Your boyfriend brushes his nose against yours. “I know, but I won because I have you.”

“Corny.” You kiss his lips slowly. “I won too.”

He places one last peck on your lips. “You still want to get those milkshakes?”

“Yes please.” You nod enthusiastically, eyes lighting up at the idea of a chocolate ice cream shake with whipped cream.

“Then let’s go, drummer girl.” Steve moves to open the passenger door for you with a wink.

“Ha ha you know that’s a bad nickname.”

“It’s not, come on babygirl you gotta let me win one!”

“I didn’t know it was a competition!” You can only laugh as he closes the door and goes around the car to settle in the seat next to you. You look at him and meet his smile with one of your own, heart bursting at the sight of him –at the beauty and fun of being with him, of giving him your heart.

“Stevie.” Your voice is quiet now that you’re inside the car.

“Hmm?” He asks, turning on the engine with the turn of his key.

“I love you.”

His smile lights you up from within in the dark car. “I love you. More.”

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎ the end❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎ PART 2

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #joe keery #steve x you

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latelyanobsession · 1 year

Note

A with Billy💕

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think Billy's extremely capable of being affectionate when all the other things that cause obstacles are soundly taken care of and he feels secure and has a sound base to be on with his SO/partner.

In terms of how he shows it? I think you'd see a lot of range to Billy. You'd be likely to see times when Billy can be very considerate and thoughtful. Maybe bringing you small gifts, or doing something like getting that book at the library for you that you've been waiting to come available for nearly two months. Knowing your preferences and keeping a pack of your gum and/or cigs in his glove box.

He's definitely a guy who probably focuses more on the little things. Letting small actions add up over time rather than grand gestures. Will always take your hand when he gets the chance. Touches your cheek at least once when you're talking, and he can't stop himself from staring into those eyes of yours. Brushes your arm as he passes you in the hallway when he's off to a different class. He's by no means clingy but always likes to remind you that he's there. Is a big fan of wrapping himself around you or you to him, and nuzzling your neck when you two are alone.

I think it's definite that the more established you are with Billy the more likely you would be to see a playful side with him too. He's a pretty competitive person to begin with. Someone that likes to push buttons and test boundaries. But this is different. With this he's inviting you to play games with him. Playful smiles, knowing grins, and sudden sharp slaps to your ass. You've probably chased each other down the empty school hallways after school a few times. Depending on who's doing the chasing determines the stakes. But someone could end up pinned to a locker or wrapped in the other's arms, being growled and nipped at.

He picks up quickly on things, he's no idiot. So if you've had a bad day, and you play it off with "I'm fine" or "I'm just tired" he's not gonna believe you for a second. He won't be up in your grill about it but he'll be comfortably nearby. And if you do crash and burn before school's even out? He'll help smuggle you out. Get you both to your favorite place so you can chill and calm down. He'll sit next to you until you're ready, and drag you into his lap. Petting your hair with his chin on your shoulder. Not saying anything. Just sitting there.

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

After sex, I truly think Billy shifts. He goes through an entire ritual really... psyching himself out, hyping himself up to first flirt and obtain a partner, then the act of sex, all to then reach this endpoint. It's like warming up for a 400m dash only to crash right at the finish line.

In terms of aftercare and how Billy acts toward his partners. I believe especially towards all his non-established, one-nighter type partners that there has never been a concept of aftercare. Billy most likely allows partners to stay long enough to catch their breath, clean up, and maybe have a cigarette. But that's it.

This is what I mean by Billy shifting. He's slipping into his post-phase. So now he's shutting down. He's numbing up. He's acting like he doesn't care, even though he might. At the very least he might care that his partner for the night leaves/gets home safe. But he's in such a headspace he may not even be able to say that. He just feels empty. It's only during the sex that he feels wired. That he feels high. And now he's crashing. He's hitting that low. He can't really ever figure out why this happens but he continues this cycle. Because he knows pretty much everything else in his life fades to the background when he can reach that peak, if only for just a time.

Aftercare both on the part of Billy's partner and on his own behalf is something that he has had to learn very slowly and over time. Billy most likely saw no value in aftercare until experiencing it himself. And the more accustomed to it the more Billy begins to realize his need for it and its value with partners.

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batneko · 10 months

Text

Another look into the Knight and Lord AU! This time, let's see which other roles have been swapped...

Luigi had been… well, brooding was probably the correct term, wandering the grand hall and looking at portraits of kings past. He was examining a ruling queen and wondering if she'd fought for her position or simply been the only available head to put a crown on, when he heard the patter of running feet and the door burst open. From the corner of his eye he noticed Bowser straighten up and his hand go for his sword, but both of them relaxed when they saw the slim figure in yellow and orange barreling down the hall.

“Daisy!” Luigi exclaimed, a second before she grabbed him in a hug. "Oof! You're- Is it good news?"

Her face stiffened as she pulled away. "I missed you. Isn't that good enough?"

Luigi forced a smile. "It's good to see you too."

He tried not to be disappointed. If they'd found something he would have heard before she showed up in person. He knew that, and yet…

"So then why are you-"

Suddenly Daisy stepped past him and stretched her arm out, as if blocking him from view. "Prince Luigi, stay behind me."

"What?" Luigi said. He looked around her shoulder to see Bowser, still standing next to the marble pillar he'd chosen as his leaning place while Luigi brooded, though now with his arms crossed across his breastplate.

"How did you get in the castle?" Daisy demanded. "You're lucky I'm the one who came back, if Peach saw you-"

Bowser ignored her. He unfolded his arms (making Daisy put up her dukes) and pressed one fist against his chest, keeping his eyes fixed dead ahead.

"Sire, your permission to make a patrol?"

He was never that formal unless he was making a point.

"Yes, Sir Bowser," Luigi said. "You're excused."

Bowser bowed, lower than he needed to, and marched past them and out the door Daisy had left standing open.

It wasn't even shut before Daisy leaned over to Luigi and hissed, "Him?"

"Yes," Luigi said simply. "Daisy-"

"You knighted him? You remember who that is, don't you?"

Luigi couldn't stop from rolling his eyes. "Of course I do."

"Why would you knight him? Did he do something like- like saving your life?"

"Actually-"

"Because he probably set it up to get close to you!"

“I asked him,” Luigi said. “Personally.”

“You asked? And he said yes?”

“It’s already been three months, if he was going to try something he’s had plenty of opportunities.”

“He might be getting everyone’s guard down!”

“He’s been nothing but loyal! He saved my life twice!”

“But why him?” Daisy demanded. “Why him, out of all people? After everything he’s-”

“You were gone!” Luigi exclaimed.

For a moment she stared at him, silent. He hadn’t meant for it to come out accusatory, but… it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Luigi swallowed down his feelings and tried to explain things calmly. “My brother disappeared, and the kingdom’s famous heroes are away looking for him,” Luigi said. “I can handle myself in a fight, but I don’t look it. People tend to think I’m a pushover. it’s better for the kingdom to avoid fights, so I needed someone who could stand next to me and look like too much trouble to be worth starting any.”

“So… you wanted a goon?” Daisy said. She, too, was making an effort to keep her voice calm and steady. “You could find plenty of people who fit that description. Why this one?”

“Not a goon,” Luigi said. “Well, not just a goon. I wanted a ‘loyal opposition.’ Someone with a different opinion about the way things should be done.”

“You knighted him to disagree with you?”

“Pretty much,” Luigi said. “As a leader, it’s always valuable to listen to the people that disagree with you. Usually they just want someone else - like themself - to be in charge, or to go back to what they think were better times, but sometimes they have valid points. Sometimes they’re closer to the common people, sometimes they’ve thought of things you haven’t…” Luigi smiled to himself. “Bowser… He cares about this kingdom. He never left, you know? And he could have. But he stayed here, even after being declared an enemy of the crown. He cares more than he hates.”

Daisy shook her head. “If you say so…”

“I do say so,” Luigi said. “And besides-”

He stopped.

“What?” Daisy asked.

“No, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” Daisy said, with a smile. “Come on.”

Luigi took a breath. “I kind of feel bad about this, but… After Mario disappeared, Bowser was the first one we looked at, remember?”

“I remember,” Daisy said. “He’d been seen around the city every day, he couldn’t have done it.”

“Yes, and… that got me thinking. Bowser was the most likely person to come for the throne now that only I was standing in the way. If I got him on my side, I’d eliminate the biggest threat and protect myself from the rest in the same move.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “That is cold.”

Luigi hunched his shoulders. “I’m king now, I have to think practically.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Daisy said. “And if you’re right and he’s loyal, your plan worked perfectly.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about it,” Luigi said.

Daisy clapped him on the shoulder, hard enough that it stung. “You’re sure though? I mean, really? You’re certain he’s loyal?”

“Yes, Daisy.” Luigi rolled his eyes. “I told you, he saved my life. Even if it’s only because it would lose him this cushy position, that’s still loyalty.”

“Saving your life is literally the least a knight could do.”

“He does more than that,” Luigi said. He felt himself smiling again. “He’s even started trying to save me from myself, lately. I’ve been working too hard. There’s a lot to do, but… mostly it’s just easier to work than think. The other night, Bowser practically dragged me to bed.”

Daisy’s eyes widened.

“That came out wrong.”

Daisy squeezed his shoulder. “Prince- I mean, King Luigi. Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

Luigi opened his mouth to deny it, but he must have been more tired of this conversation - and the dozen other conversations he’d had like it - than he thought, because what came out was, “Would it matter if I was?”

“Luigi!” Daisy exclaimed.

“I’m serious. Would it make a difference if I was- was giving him unprecedented access to the royal person every night?”

“Luigi!” Daisy said again, but this time there was laughter in it.

“Because you don’t seem to trust my judgment either way.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” Daisy said. "I guess… I just can't see myself making the same choice?"

“It was still mine to make.”

“You’re right,” Daisy said. “You’re right.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“So… why did you come back?” Luigi asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!” he added quickly. “But you’ve both been sending letters up until now. What changed?”

“It is technically good news,” Daisy said. “We were at a dead end for… longer than I wanted you to know, but we finally picked up the trail again! Peach is trying to gain the trust of some people who might know more, and that’s a lot easier for one person to do than two, so I thought I’d get out of her hair.”

“That is good,” Luigi said. “Then you’re staying for a while?”

“At least a few days. I should check on the house, stock up on supplies, but none of that will take long.”

“Great,” Luigi said, taking her arm. “I want you to tell me everything.”

“Are you sure?” Daisy asked. “A lot of it’s… frustrating.”

“Everything,” Luigi repeated, firmly.

And outside in the hallway, standing next to the door which had never fully closed, Bowser had clenched his fists so hard he was trembling.

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter

#batfics #bowuigi #luigi #bowser #super mario bros #luwser #bowigi #green shell #sir bowser au #king luigi #princess daisy

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

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

during - part nineteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you make some new friends.

a/n: this might be my favourite chapter yet. I had sooooooo much fun writing it, and finally touching on/adapting scenes from the show is bringing me so much joy I can’t wait to get to the meat of it, but the parts between now and then excite me too!!

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, if you’ve been reading up until now you know the drill, I’m getting lazy with my warnings LOL, no smut here, a bit of angst, F R I E N D S H I P

✨@friskito-library for new works and updates✨

Your days in the radio room have become more and more frequent, since your run-in with Gwen and her crew. It’s like you told Tess; with Hartford gone, you’d lost one of your more consistent meet-ups, and you needed to know what else was out there. You needed new connections, new friends, allies. You needed something. In case Boston went belly-up and needed to get the hell out of dodge and never look back, you needed a soft place to land.

Abe’s garnered quite the collection, over the years, and it’s like everywhere you look, there’s another wire connecting from one wall to the next, batteries that probably shouldn’t still work plugged into far too many devices. His map collection is something to write home about, and you spend some time trying to figure out the path Joel and Tommy took from Austin, but when your finger finds Cincinnati, your chest goes tight, and you return to the room Abe’s set up for just for you, branched off the main room he uses to send requested messages.

You’re still paying him with cigarettes, although some of them are the hand-rolled FEDRA shit that McCoy has a penchant for. The soldier’s other habits always seem to win, though, and you always have at least half a dozen for Abe, who’s quietly grateful, waving you off into the side room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t wanna know,” he told you when you first asked. It’s been a while now, though you stopped for a while when Nick shot Joel, when you both needed time to recover. “Just do what you need to do, and leave me out of it, okay?”

“So you don’t want any more cigarettes?”

He pointed a finger at you. “I never said that.”

And here you are, one side of the big headphones pressed to your ear. The foam has definitely seen better days, but the sound is relatively clear. You’ve kept a notebook of your contacts, the frequencies they’re usually on, the days of the week and times they’re usually available. Today, you’ve gone through every single one, and no one is out there. So you’re just twisting the dials, the strange sound of the static and frequencies almost giving you a headache, but then—

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’, cuz I’ve built my life around you.

You haven’t heard that song in a long, long time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the last time you heard it was in Joel’s truck, in that field just outside of Austin, staring up at the stars. Fleetwood Mac has always been one of your favourites, and you slide the other side of the headphones over, encasing yourself in the song, shutting your eyes as the music crackles over the radio.

But time makes you bolder, even children get older, and I’m getting older, too.

You can feel the song in your soul. It digs straight into your chest, the crooned lyrics wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.

Oh, I’m getting older, too.

You let it wash over you, sinking back into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself, tilting your head back on your shoulders and making the cable connecting the headset to the radio stretch. You’ve found a few cassette tapes over the years — namely the same Led Zeppelin album you’d once given Joel for his truck — but you make a mental note to keep your eye out for Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks.

The song finishes, and you sigh, straightening in the chair, reaching out to turn off the radio, fingers brushing against the knob.

“If there’s anybody out there, my name is Frank. I’m on frequency 1462. We have resources, and we are looking to trade.”

He repeats himself again, and then another song starts. More Fleetwood, Go Your Own Way.

Well, shit.

Your fingers fly across the knobs, turning to the right frequency, wincing at the whine as it clicks on. You reach for the microphone.

“Hello?”

There’s a fraction of a pause before, “Oh my god, hi!”

If your years of smuggling have taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anybody right off the bat. You have to be wary, you have to be careful. Hell, there are still people you’ve traded with that you don’t trust as far as you can throw. It’s just the way things are.

But fuck, if he doesn’t have the kindest-sounding voice.

“Is this Frank?”

“It is!” he replies, his excitement somehow palpable through the radio waves. “Oh my god, I was starting to think no one was gonna hear that message.”

“It’s a good song,” you laugh, pulling the mic closer to you on the table. “Haven’t heard it in a long time.”

“It’s a classic,” he agrees, and there’s a slight pause before, “Okay, I’m gonna admit, I have no idea how to do this.”

“How to do…?”

“Make deals,” he says, “meet people over the radio. Have you done this before?”

You’re not quite sure how much truth you should offer a perfect stranger, regardless of how kind he sounds. If this is a FEDRA trap, chances are good you’ll be able to blackmail your way out of it. So you settle on, “Once or twice.”

“Am I allowed to know your name? Or is that not…?”

“It’s Liv,” you offer. “Where are you, Frank?”

He pauses again. “I’m not sure if I should…” You can hear the sudden hesitancy in his tone; you know it well.

“Why don’t I tell you how I normally do this?”

“That would be perfect.”

“You tell me what you have to offer, I tell you what I have to trade. We settle on terms, pick a meeting spot and a date, and that’s that. You don’t kill me or my people, I don’t kill you or yours, and we part ways with what we’ve bargained for. Simple.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“But before we get into that, can we at least make sure we’re in the same state? I try not to cross the borders if I can manage it.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” he agrees. “We’re in Massachusetts.”

“Good,” you nod, reaching for your notebook and pen, scrawling Frank’s name on your page, along with the frequency number. “So are we.”

“Coast?”

“Pretty close.”

“Good.”

“So we’re in the same state,” you say, tapping the pen against the paper. “What are you offering to trade, Frank?”

“Tell me something first,” he prompts, and your brow lifts slowly. “How long do your…relationships with traders usually last?”

Your throat bobs, Gwen’s screaming voice echoing through your head, but you shove it away. “Depends. As long as everyone holds up their end of the deal, there’s no real time limit.”

“What’s the longest you’ve traded with someone?”

“There’s a group in Providence I’ve been trading with since 2008. Never had any issues there.”

“Uh-huh, good to know. The thing is, what I’m proposing here, it might not be the same as the other deals you’ve made. We’re well-protected here. My partner, Bill, he’s…he’s a survivalist, and he’s built this place to last. We’re not going anywhere fast, we’re sustainable.”

“Meaning you wouldn’t come to the city,” you say, catching on, and now you’re the one feeling hesitant. “Depending how far out you are, it might not be worth it to us. There’d have to be something worth the risk each time, and I don’t—”

“Freshly cooked meals,” he says, and you stop dead. “Fresh vegetables. Wine, the good kind. New clothes, building materials, and weap—”

“Stop,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I only trust the radio so far. Give me coordinates, and a date, and we go from there.”

He gives you the coordinates, you scribble the numbers down, and decide on a date, three days from today. You say your goodbyes, and you tell him not to get back on the radio until you’ve met, but to keep playing the music, so you know everything is still a-go. “You like Fleetwood Mac?”

“I love Fleetwood Mac.”

“Then you and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You can’t help the smile in your voice. “I’ve got a good feeling about this, Frank.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

“See you soon. Oh, and Liv?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe.”

It catches you off guard, makes something crawl up the back of your throat.“Thanks, Frank. You too.”

You dial to a different frequency the moment you’re done, shutting down the radio entirely, and leave without a word. Abe doesn’t so much as glance at you as you head out, past the long string of people waiting patiently for him to send their messages.

Joel’s home before you are, which is a shock.

His back is killing him. Tommy’s skipped out on every single one of his jobs lately, and Joel feels like every time he turns a corner, there’s something else that needs repairs, another new face asking him to fix something. His hands hurt, he’s got a kink in his neck, and all he really wants to do is fall into bed and have your body curled against his.

He sighs as he gets through the door, brow pinching when he doesn’t find you perched at the table or sitting on the couch, head bent over your maps or flipping through your notebooks. It’s become habit for you lately, wanting to build up your connections more and more, now that Hartford is gone.

The guilt over the entire situation lingers in the back of Joel’s mind, a nagging voice that sounds suspiciously like his brother.

Joel shakes the thought away. He did what he had to, to protect you. To protect his wife, his family.

He did what he had to.

Locking the door behind him, he tosses his makeshift tool bag — a ratty backpack he found at the donation hall before it shut down — into the corner, and flops onto the couch. He slings his hand over his eyes. He’ll just close them for a minute, just until you’re home, until you’re…

A nightmare latches onto him with a vice-like grip, throws him fully out of sleep with a gasp, his chest heaving.

“Joel?” your voice calls, a soft echo across the apartment, and he turns to see you perched in one of the kitchen chairs, pencil between your teeth, your hair falling in your eyes. “Baby, you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, swinging his legs off the couch, getting to his feet with a groan. He rubs at his lower back as he pads over to the kitchen, coming to stand behind you. He leans forward and plants both hands on the table either side of you, leaning down until he can fit his chin into the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses at your pulse.

“Fine, now that you’re home,” he mumbles, and you lean back into him slightly, turning your head so you can kiss at his, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. “You were out late.”

“I’ve been home for hours,” you reply, huffing a laugh, setting the pencil on the table. Your maps are all spread out, the big one of Massachusetts on the top. “You’ve been asleep the entire time. Didn’t wanna wake you.”

Joel drags one hand off the table, moves his arm so it’s slung around your chest, curling his fingers around your rib cage. “How nice of you.”

“Best wife ever,” you say, and Joel laughs into your skin. “Oh, and there’s dinner for you. Abe’s wife sent me home with food as thank you for fixing their door the other day.”

“What is it?”

“Something with Spam in it,” you tell him, and Joel wrinkles his nose. “It tastes better than it looks.”

“Noted,” he grumbles, pressing one last kiss to your throat before he straightens, spine creaking as he goes. “Fuck, I’m getting old.”

“I think the grey in your beard suits you,” you answer, turning back to your maps, “just for the record.”

The corner of his mouth quirks as he heads for the fridge, fishing out the plate of food and leaning against the counter. “How was your day, baby?”

Your pencil drops again, and you push your chair back, the legs squeaking against the floor. You turn yourself towards him fully, slowly getting to your feet, taking a step towards him. “I made a friend.”

Joel’s brow quirks. You know a lot of people in the QZ, that much he knows for certain, but he’s really not sure how many of them you would refer to as friends. “Oh?”

“On the radio. His name is Frank.” You turn back to the maps, eyes raking over the paper, your finger finding a spot marked with pencil. “He lives in Lincoln, and we’re gonna go see him in three days.”

He nearly drops the plate. “What?”

“I mapped out the path. It’s a bit of a hike, almost five hours outside of Boston, but—”

“Ten miles?” Joel repeats, and you just nod. “Liv, we’ve barely been outside the city limits, and you wanna hike ten miles to some random stranger?”

“Frank,” you say, your tone almost petulant, and Joel puts the plate down. “They have food, Joel. Real food, not bullshit QZ rations. Wine, weapons, building materials. New clothes. This could be good for us, Joel. Really good.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “You want me to hike five hours for wine?”

“I want you to hike ten miles for a chance at something good, Joel. Something new.” Your gaze drops and you knot your hands together. “Something to make up for what we did, maybe. Somehow. I don’t know. I just…I feel good about this, baby. And it’s just a meeting, to start. I didn’t promise him anything, just that we’d meet, and we’d talk. Then we go from there.”

Something in your voice tugs at him, and for a moment, Joel’s not quite sure what it is, but then it hits him.

It’s hope. It’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded in a long time, and when you take another step toward him, he opens his arms to you.

“The route will take us right past Cumberland Farms,” you continue, and Joel cups your hip in his palm, letting out a quiet oomph as you lean against him, reaching up to twine your arms around your neck. “We can stop there first, stash some stuff just in case.”

“A safety net,” Joel says, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“You were asleep for a long time,” you reply, and Joel just scoffs, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Wait,” you pull back, moving one hand to the middle of his chest, pushing lightly. “Is that a yes?”

“Well, I’m not about to let you go by yourself now, am I?”

It’s a long fucking hike.

Thankfully, it’s relatively easy. The path you’d chosen isn’t overly adventurous, no daunting hills or thick forests. It’s mostly open air, rolling fields, forests either side of the roads. The weather is beautiful, which is a plus, though you can feel the sweat pouring down your back as you walk, on the right side of Joel, as always.

You recount the entire conversation you had with Frank to Joel as you walk. Tess had offered to come with you, too, but you decided the two of you would go for the first meeting, and if things worked out, then you’d all go together the next time. You could tell part of her was relieved, and she admitted to you later she had plans to see Robin the same day you were going.

“You got instinct, baby,” Joel tells you after you’ve finished the story, your fingers twined together as he pulls you out of the path of a fallen telephone wire in the middle of the road. “Don’t forget that. I’ve seen it; you know what you’re doing. And if you feel good about this, then I’m game. We see what happens. And if anyone tries to lay a hand on you—”

“Hit ‘em real fuckin’ hard with my bat.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

The praise makes your chest warm, and when he’s close enough, you slide yourself against him, slipping your arm around his waist, tugging his around your shoulders. “Your wife is a badass, Joel Miller,” you say, and he barks a laugh, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “In case you weren’t aware.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, his brows lifting. “Believe me, I’m aware. It’s fuckin’ hot. Only reason I married you.”

Now you’re the one that laughs, sliding your hand into his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his jeans. “Jackass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, and squeezes your shoulder, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “Liv, baby?”

“Mmm?”

“When we get back to Boston, I’m gonna try and talk to Tommy. Make peace or somethin’.”

You nearly stop dead in your tracks. In fact, if Joel wasn’t still walking with his arm around you, you might have fallen over. But you don’t let your shock be known, schooling your face as neutral as possible while letting one brow raise. “Oh, really?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and I just…He’s my baby brother. He’s a fuckin’ idiot, and he’s gonna get himself killed, but he’s family. And we keep going for family, so I gotta fix it. Somehow.”

Slowly, you nod. “You think he’s gonna tell the Fireflies about me?”

“I’ll break his fuckin’ nose if he does.”

“Joel.” You smack at his chest. “That’s not how you fix it.”

“I know, I know. It’s…” Joel shakes his head. “I want to believe he won’t. I really do.”

“So talk to him,” you say with a nod. “See what happens, go from there, and please, just don’t fucking hit each other.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You continue on, the sun beating down on your every step. There’s not much more conversation, but the silence is easy, a comfort. Joel doesn’t let you wander far, you eventually step out of his grip but your hands are still linked together.

Your stop at Cumberland Farms is brief. In the early days, you brought a stash box to the gas station, tucked it below one of the floor panels. You and Joel mostly empty your packs into the box, some ammunition, a spare knife, food that’ll last a good while. A backup. You pull one of the long-empty freezers over the panel, try to make the trash and debris cover it up, just to be safe. Joel gives you a nod of approval, and then you keep going.

Eventually, the tree-lined road gives way to open space. More hills, dips in the earth. Far in the distance, you see a plane broken in half on the hilltop — an emergency landing gone wrong — and your stomach rolls at the thought of what’s still up there.

But then you turn another corner, and it’s even worse.

Beside you, you hear Joel’s quiet shock. “What in the…?”

You grip his hand tighter, pushing yourself against him, tearing your eyes from the sight before you. “I thought he was lying.”

Joel’s head whips in your direction. “What? Who? You knew about this?”

You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat. “Early days, after the outbreak. Like, the week after, FEDRA swept through the small towns and evacuated them. Told people they were going to a QZ. And they were, if there was room. If not…” You tilt your head towards the pit.

“How did you know? You’ve been out this way?”

“Never this far,” you answer, shaking your head. “Nick, he…he told me about it.” Joel stiffens, and you squeeze his arm. “He wasn’t part of it, but he knew soldiers that were. It wasn’t just here; it was all over. Across the country. Who fucking knows how many people FEDRA killed.”

“I just don’t get why.”

“Better dead than infected.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, and pulls you closer, turning you away from it. Not that it makes a difference; you know you’ll be seeing the half-buried skeletons, the scraps of clothing and the scattered belongings, in the back of your mind for a long time. “Maybe there’s a path through the forest.”

You shake your head. “Just keep going.”

“Liv—”

“Keep going, Joel.”

So you do. You try to bury the sight, try to push it away, try to focus on where you’re going instead.

It’s like you turn the corner, and all of a sudden, there’s a town right in front of you. A small town, to be sure, a handful of buildings, some that have seen better days, and when your eyes land on the nine-foot metal fence around the perimeter, Frank’s wavy voice on the radio echoes through your head.

We’re well-protected here.

He sure as hell wasn’t lying.

As you approach the fence, Joel situates himself in front of you, his expression wary, an arm held out, protector mode on. You get closer, and suddenly it strikes you that you have no idea what Frank looks like. You have no idea who you’re looking for.

But you’re pretty sure it’s not the large bearded man with the giant fucking gun pointed at your head.

Instantly, you’ve both got your hands in the air, Joel still a half step in front of you. “What do you want?” the man barks, lifting the gun a little higher, switching between aiming the barrel at your head and at Joel’s.

“We’re here to see Frank,” you say instantly, nearly tripping over the words. “I’m Liv, this is Joel. I spoke to Frank on the radio.”

“Oh my fucking…Bill, put the gun down!” another, strangely familiar voice shouts, and over the larger man’s — Bill’s — shoulder, you see a slightly smaller man, a touch taller than Bill, but thinner, his hair shorter, his beard a little more well-kept. He’s got a dishrag over his shoulder, and as he jogs up to Bill, pushing his partner aside and reaching for the gate before you, he grins at you.

The gun is lowered, but as Frank pulls the gate open, Bill pulls out the same bio-scanner machine you’ve seen FEDRA soldiers toting around back in the QZ, and your heart sinks into your toes.

“Would you put that thing away?” Frank chides, waving at Bill, beaming at you now as you take a hesitant step towards the now-open gate. “You must be Liv.”

His smile is infectious, and as Bill stows the scanner, your excitement returns. “Hi, Frank.”

“Come in, come in!” he says, and reaches for your hand, tugging you through. “You guys are just in time; lunch is almost ready. Right, Bill?”

“…yes.”

Joel’s a half step behind you now, his hand finding the small of your back as you walk through the gate completely. Bill sniffs as you step past, and closes the gate behind you both, hitting a keypad that emits a loud beep, the heavy sound of magnets slamming together.

You’re at a loss for words as you follow Frank down the street. It looks so…normal. So alive, so lived in. You’ve become so accustomed to abandoned buildings and broken windows; to be around buildings that look well taken care of, a house that looks like it belongs to someone, you’re at a loss.

“This place is beautiful,” you manage to say, picking up your pace to keep up with Frank. “It looks so…”

“Normal?” Frank asks, and you just nod, giving a little laugh. “Cookie-cutter? I know. It’s definitely grown on me.”

“You weren’t always here?”

“Oh, no, not always. It’s been about…three years now? Something like that?” He waves a hand. “We can talk more about that stuff over lunch. You two must be starving.”

You turn another corner, and the most beautiful house stands before you. Two stories, perfect white picket fence out front, planters filled with flowers lining the walkways, the hedges and lawn neatly trimmed. A US flag sticks out from the front of the house, the fabric billowing in the warm breeze, and you nearly topple over when you see the patio furniture set out, four chairs around a table, each place already set, wine in the middle, glasses at each spot.

You and Joel are frozen in place, but Frank continues on, stepping through the small gate in the fence and walking towards the table. Bill stalks past you, heading into the house, and Frank waves you on. “Come! Sit!”

Joel’s hand pushes against your back, his voice low in your ear. “You still feelin’ good about this?”

“Very,” you reply, and let him propel you forward slightly, unable to wipe the grin on your face as you walk towards the table.

You take a seat, Joel sliding into the chair next to you, and Frank produces a bottle of wine, filling the glass in front of you. Joel gives a little nod as Frank fills his glass, and you’ll be the first to admit you reach for the glass quickly, taking a long sip that tastes like heaven. You’ve never been a huge wine drinker; you indulged every once in a while before — the occasional glass if you were out for dinner, and your mom had a penchant for rosé — but this is good fucking wine.

“How long did it take you guys?” Frank asks as he fills his own glass, then the empty seat for Bill. “Easy travels I hope?”

“‘Bout five hours,” Joel answers as you take another sip. “No Infected, and the weather’s good.”

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Frank says, still beaming at you, and you’re smiling into your wine. “We’ll eat first, and then I’ll show you two around. Bill’s a bit…hesitant about the whole thing, but he’ll come around. He’s a big softie.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly. “Sort of.”

As if on cue, the front door opens, and Bill appears, calling Frank’s name. The taller man rises, jogging towards the door and when he turns back, he has two plates of food in his hands. It’s fine china, piled with steaming veggies and pieces of meat, actual fucking gravy and Bill has a bowl of dinner rolls tucked in the crook of his arm.

Frank sets a plate down in front of you, and for a second, you honestly feel like you could cry. “Oh my god, thank you.” Bill hands the other two plates to Frank, then disappears towards the house. Frank goes to follow, but then waves his hand at his partner’s back.

“He can handle the salad himself.” He settles into the seat across from you, gestures to the plate you’re still staring at. “Go ahead, eat! There’s more too, if you’re still hungry after.”

Joel wastes no time, but you wait for Bill to return, saying your thanks when he hands you a bowl of salad that looks fresh from the garden. Your mouth is watering. He just gives you a curt nod, sinks into the chair opposite of Joel, and pulls a handgun from the holster on his leg, setting it beside his plate. A warning, and you see Joel’s eyes dart to it before he glances at you. You sip your wine again, your hand finding Joel’s thigh beneath the table.

“Well, this is just incredible,” you say, breaking the awkward silence that’s settled. “Honestly, it’s just…it’s amazing, truly.”

“Right?” Frank agrees, giving you an almost conspiratorial grin. He picks up the wine bottle from the table, gestures to your glass. “Refill?”

“Please,” you say, holding your glass out.

Frank side-eyes Bill as he picks up the gun, pulling back the hammer with a quiet click. “Could you not, please? They’re our guests.”

Joel stares at the gun for a long moment before, “I’m the same way.”

“Oh, you’re a paranoid schizophrenic, too?” Frank asks, and you have to stifle your chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spit wine.

Bill rolls his eyes. “I’m not a schizophrenic.”

Bill and Joel share another glance, and you take another sip of wine before clearing your throat. “Well, I just wanna say, uh, gun aside — which I get, for the record.” You squeeze Joel’s leg beneath the table. “You’re protecting your family. But this is just so nice, and so appreciated, to have a meal like this, in such a beautiful place. It’s been so long since things felt normal, and this…even if we don’t end up working together, I just…thank you. Both of you.”

Frank meets your eyes, holding his glass towards you. “We are working together.”

“We haven’t even—” you start, but before you can finish your sentence, Frank sets down his glass for a moment and gets to his feet, reaching for his glass and the bottle again.

“You know what?” he says, giving you a grin. “Let’s go inside. Liv, I wanna show you something.”

You feel Joel’s eyes slide back to you, his brow furrowed deeply, and you squeeze his leg one more time before you’re getting up. “Actually, I’m dying to see the inside.”

“Let’s go,” Frank continues, ignoring Bill’s protests. “Bring your wine.” As you follow him towards the house, he pauses to let you catch up, turning to you. “Like I said, he’ll come around, he just…takes a while.”

You can’t help your chuckle. “Reminds me of Joel.”

As you step inside the house, you’re at a loss for words. Antique furniture, beautiful paintings, and it feels like a home. A stark contrast to your apartment back in Boston, which has felt more and more like just a place to keep your stuff. Especially since Joel showed up; wherever he was, that was home.

You dance your fingers across the piano keys as Frank turns towards the dining room, a large mahogany table taking up most of the space, matching chairs, an old grandfather clock, a covered desk. You don’t have enough of a musical ear to know if the piano is still in tune or not, but then Frank calls your name, and you wander over, sipping your wine as you go, careful not to let it spill.

“This place is amazing,” you comment, and Frank grins, turning to rifle through one of the desk drawers. “Did you and Bill find this place? I’m shocked it’s in such good condition.”

“No, Bill has always lived here,” Frank answers, still searching for something. “I was heading for Boston, after the Baltimore QZ fell. There were ten of us originally, but by the time I ended up here, I was the only one left.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, almost a reflex, and Frank waves you off. “So, you and Bill…you found each other, in the middle of all this?”

He finds what he’s looking for, something concealed in his hand as he pushes the drawer shut, and the grin on his face as he straightens to look at you makes your chest warm. He’s just so charming, kindness radiating off of him in waves. You’re not used to it.

“We did,” he says with a nod, an almost dreamy look in his eye. “It’s hopelessly romantic, isn’t it? Must be the artist in me. And you should have seen this place when I first got here. At least an inch of dust everywhere you looked.”

“Bill’s not much a cleaner?”

“He’s practical, but he forgets to pay attention to things sometimes. But he’s learning.” He smiles. “We all are.”

You scoff a little laugh. “That’s a good way to put it.”

Frank holds the thing he’d fished out of the desk to you. “For you.”

Your jaw drops. Fleetwood Mac. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he laughs, putting the cassette tape in your hands. “It’s yours. Landslide is on side B.”

“Frank, I can’t—”

“You can,” he presses, chuckling at your protest. “A token of appreciation for travelling this far to meet with us.” Before you can refuse, Frank turns, refilling his glass where he’d set it on the table and sinking into one of the chairs. “Now, tell me how this works.”

The majority of the afternoon is spent following Frank around, him showing you the numbered but incredible sights Lincoln has to offer. It feels like stepping into a history book in the best kind of way, and that feeling of normalcy, the white picket fence only adds to it.

“So, how long have you and Joel been you and Joel?” Frank asks. You’re in the clothing boutique, poking through the racks of clothes. Frank told you to pick out an outfit, and you’re taking your choices very seriously, your mind torn between desperately wanting something cute while knowing you need something practical.

“Hah. It’s, uh, complicated?” you reply, your voice hitching on the word. You rub the sleeve of a green sweater between your fingers, savouring the softness. “We knew each other before the outbreak.”

Over the top of the rack, you can see Frank make a face. “That doesn’t sound that complicated.”

Before you know it, you’ve told him everything. It throws you, to trust someone this quickly. But, he invited you into his home, trusted you not to turn on him and his partner, his family. And that warmth he seems to radiate, it just adds to it all, making you feel like you’ve known him much longer than you have.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” he says after you’ve given him the whole story. “So you were together in 2001, then you moved to Boston, then shit hits the fan, you’re still in Boston, and Joel shows up five years later with his brother and another woman?”

You nod, flicking through a rack to find a pair of black jeans in your size. “Yes, Tommy and Tess.”

“And Joel and Tess were a thing when they first got to Boston?”

“Yes.”

“Then Tess broke it off with Joel, and you two got back together? And she’s one of your closest friends?”

You nod again. “Yes.”

“And Tommy is…?”

You sigh. “Tommy is even more complicated. I think I’d need another bottle of wine before I even start talking about Tommy.”

Frank grins. “All the more incentive for you to come back.”

“As if I’m not already convinced.”

Outside the boutique, you can hear Joel calling your name. You glance at your watch. “Shit. We probably need to start heading back.”

“Take those,” Frank says, gesturing to the jeans in your hands. He has the green sweater you’ve decided on in his hands. “I told Bill to pack up some food for you too.”

You head out of the boutique and towards the gate, and as you approach, Joel and Bill walk out of the house, Joel’s bag slung over his shoulder, looking a bit fuller than it had when you arrived. He hands you your own bag, and Frank hands you the sweater as you crouch down to stuff the clothes in your bag. “You’re sure about this?” you ask, pulling the Fleetwood Mac cassette out of your back pocket.

“Of course,” Frank answers. “Don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll come back in a few weeks, and we’ll trade.

“We will. And I’ll bring Tess, like I said.”

“Oh,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at Joel and Bill, who have stopped a good ten feet behind you, “and I had this idea, that we should use codes for the radio. Y’know, just in case someone’s listening. I know you were worried, the first time we talked.”

You nod. “That’s a great idea. What kind of code are you thinking?”

“Music,” he grins. “Sixties, seventies, eighties. We’ve got this book on Billboard hits we could give you. Sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies if we’ve got something new, eighties if there’s trouble.”

“Eighties for trouble,” you repeat, nodding again. “I like that.”

“Good,” Frank says, and you get to your feet. “I gotta say, Liv, I felt good about this before, but now? It’s nice, so nice, to have new friends.” He reaches out, puts his hand on your arm. “And yes, before you try and deny it. That’s what we are.”

You can’t help your grin. “Friends.”

He grins back. “Friends.”

Joel and Bill have been talking the entire time you have, and when you glance back, you see Joel heading toward you, squinting in the sunlight. “Ready?” he asks as he comes to stand beside you, his hand finding the small of your back again, and you nod. He turns to Frank. “Thank you, for the lunch, and for…” He trails off, gesturing to you. “We needed this.”

Joel and Frank shake hands, and after, Frank pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders. “See you soon.”

You get back to the QZ late. You’re both exhausted, worn out by the hiking and the sun and the abundance of food. You’re both drooling over the leftovers Bill and Frank sent you home with, and as soon as you’re through the door to the apartment, Joel pulls out one of the containers, and you eat it with your fingers standing over the sink, both of you laughing at the absurdity of your day.

The next morning, Joel goes looking for Tommy.

Unsurprisingly, his brother has skipped out on his job for the umpteenth time, so as soon as morning curfew has passed, Joel heads into the city, and starts combing the buildings he knows are Firefly hideouts. The third building he’s poking around, and he’s stopped by a woman. She seemingly materializes out of the alleyway, arms crossed over her chest, dark hair tied back. She calls him by name, and Joel freezes.

“You won’t find him,” she says, her voice deeper than Joel is anticipating. “Tommy’s not here.”

Joel turns slowly, regards the woman as she steps out of the alley. She’s dressed the same as everybody else is, clothes that have seen better days, boots wrapped with duct tape. “You must be Marlene.”

“Guilty,” she answers.

“Where’s my brother?”

She looks down at the pavement, digs her toe into the asphalt. “Tommy left this morning.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “Left? What d’you mean, left?”

“I stationed him at our base in Minneapolis,” she says, and Joel’s heart stutters. “He left with a few other men this morning.”

His hands clench into fists. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“I know how you feel about the Fireflies, Joel,” Marlene continues, and the edges of Joel’s vision tinge red. “Tommy told me. And I understand why you would have your…reservations. But your brother just wants to do some good.”

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” Joel spits. “Is that what you told him? That blowing shit up and killing soldiers was good?”

“We’re doing more than that,” Marlene starts, “and Tommy understands that. He knows what he signed up for.”

“Does he?” he replies, and his voice is climbing. There’s a handful of people out on the sidewalks, and some throw glances in his direction. “You turned him against his family. Against his own brother.”

“I didn’t turn him against you, Joel. Tommy made a choice.”

Joel shakes his head. He’s shaking with anger, confusion, fear — every emotion crawled up the back of his throat and making a home there. “That’s a load of shit.”

Marlene digs in her pocket and extends a folded piece of paper toward him. “This is the radio frequency for the base in Minneapolis. Give it a day or two, then try and get through. I know your wife works the radios, she shouldn’t have any problem reaching him.”

He just stares at her, eyes darting between her face and the piece of paper. But finally, the desperation that’s been added to the mix wins out, and he snatches the paper. “If he dies, it’s on you. I’m not responsible for what happens after that.”

“If he dies, I’ll await your wrath, Joel.”

Before he can do anything more, she turns on her heel and disappears, leaving Joel in the alleyway, alone.

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🍓in case tumblr eats the ending🍓

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

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agaypanic · 12 days

Note

Back at it again with the gay Francis request 🫶

Can I get a Francis Wilkerson x male reader where he falls for a skater boy with anger issues? Maybe pre-military school??? Or they can just meet during military school whatever makes more sense. But like reader is just the classic early 2000s baggy pants, drinks mtn dew, video game addicted, but he's also very stubborn with a mean streak.

Reader just like "im going to punch you in the face if you keep talking to me-"

Francis: "-ok but THEN can we make out?"

Francis Wilkerson With an Angry Skater Boy Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: idk anything about skateboarding whoops, don’t let your friends pierce you unless they’re a professional

***

You probably met before Francis was sent to military school

The two of you were either in the same friend group or ran in similar crowds

When Francis sees you for the first time, he’s probably thinking “wow, he’s hot”

He thinks he means it in an “i wanna be him” kind of way

Which is a bit true

But it’s more in an “i wanna be with him” way

Francis saw you first, sitting at a table with some of his friends and some other kids he didn’t know. You were playing with a wheel on your skateboard, spinning it absentmindedly while Richie talked about something no one else really cared about.

He sat down in the only available seat at the table, which was right across from you. He gave a half-hearted greeting to everyone, too busy glancing at you every few seconds to pay attention to anyone else.

Eventually, you felt his gaze. You looked up, seeing that he was already looking at you. Francis’ eyes widened in a panic, but he couldn’t help but look away. However, the slightly angry expression growing on your face made him wish he’d stop staring at you.

“What are you looking at?” you asked in a hiss, hands now gripping your skateboard and back straightening up. Francis tried to stammer out a response, but it was nothing coherent.

“Y/n, chill.” Richie laughed, looking at you with his usual half-lidded eyes. “Francis is cool, man, don’t worry.”

Francis nodded quickly, hoping that that along with Richie’s statement would cool you off a bit.

And it seemingly did. After giving the blonde a onceover, which felt more like a glare to him, you relaxed back into your slouched position.

Despite your somewhat coarse personality, Francis still wanted to hang out with you

He doesn’t know how he did it, but you start to warm up to him

By warming up, it mainly meant you not glaring at him every time he got near you

Soon enough, the two of you were hanging out regularly

“On your right.” You muttered, focused on the violent game that you had on the TV. Francis had come over to your place after school, mainly to get away from his mom, so you thought you’d pass the time by playing the new shooting game you got.

Francis was barely playing. Instead, he kept glancing over at you every few seconds. There was something about the way you got heated so easily that got him excited.

“Dude, you just died.” You laughed at him, and Francis’ eyes snapped to the screen to see that he was, in fact, killed. He sighed and tossed his controller on the bed, acting like he was annoyed when it really just gave him more of an excuse to check out your room. And you.

Keeping the controller steady on your leg, you played with one hand while the other grabbed your half-empty soda can. Francis watched as you chugged the remaining Mountain Dew, crushed the can, and threw it toward the trash can in the corner.

“Stop staring, or I’ll punch you,” you said, catching Francis’ stare out of the corner of your eye before focusing back on the game.

“Yeah, right.” In quick response, you hit Francis in the shoulder. “Ow!”

The two of you like to get up to trouble

Graffiti some walls, smoke some weed, usual teenage troublemaker stuff

One night, while Francis was at your house, he told you about a little lecture his mom had given him

And how it made him want to do the complete opposite of what she told him

“You sure about this?” you asked, not really sounding concerned as you cleaned off the sewing needle you had taken from a random junk drawer. “Lois is totally gonna send you to military school.”

“Fuck it,” Francis said with a shrug, playing with the jewelry that he brought with him.

“Okay then.” You shrugged, going over to your bed. You pushed Francis to lie down and sat beside him, staring down at him. “Don’t get pissed if I fuck it up though.”

“Kiss for good luck?” Francis laughed lightly. Even though it sounded like a joke, he was slightly serious. You thought about it for a moment. You supposed there were worse people to kiss.

“Sure.” You said with a shrug. Leaning over Francis, you pecked him on the lips quickly. “No homo.”

“Wha…” Your actions put Francis in a daze, so he didn’t register you putting the needle to his nose as you pulled your face away from his. In a flash, the needle was through his left nostril. “Ow!”

“Don’t be a pussy, Francis.”

The two of you fell silent as you put some of the jewelry through the hole you had just made. Francis played with his hands, looking up at you as you hovered over him.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll hit you,” you murmured, your threat losing some of the usual seriousness you carried. Francis laughed.

“If I let you pierce something else, can I get another kiss?”

“...Fine.”

#agaypanic #francis wilkerson headcanons #francis wilkerson #francis wilkerson x reader #francis wilkerson x male reader #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader

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sagau-my-beloved · 2 years

Note

What if during one of venti’s reruns the reader is spending dozens of wishes to try and get him, and venti wants more than anything to come home to his creator, but has to grapple with the highest power of them all- the gacha system. After losing the 50/50 to qiqi on the player’s 4th ten pull, he’d probably start trying to sabotage the draws by causing problems in teyvat, distracting the other characters so he’s the only available character and therefore has to be chosen (creator can’t pull any other characters if they’re not there to be pulled, right?). Venti will have a lot of explaining to do when he finally comes home.

Also can I be 🫧 anon pls?

This seems fitting considering his now confirmed banner coming up, also of course!

"Oh my god not again."

You wanted to throw your phone, the insatiable urge to destroy what was causing you so much grief was only stifled by your frankly incredible amount of self control.

This would make the third time you've lost to Qiqi on a 50/50, and that previously mentioned self-control was wearing rather thin.

Your luck was never particularly good, but come on, this was frankly getting ridiculous.

You let out a soft sigh, taking one more brief glance at the banner header to see Venti's joyful expression looking back, the exact opposite of what you were currently feeling.

Maybe a break was an order.

Sure, you had a few more pulls up your sleeve, but you were running low on primos and perhaps the passage of time would somehow manage to soften this obvious favoritism the game seemed to have towards paying players.

You looked at the banner with a forlorn expression for a second longer before logging out and shutting off your device, promising yourself to do something more productive with the next hour.

Venti, similar to you, was far from happy.

Really it was completely out of his hands, if his universe would allow him to be reunited with you, and so far the answer to that seemed to be a resounding no.

This was the second time you had attempted to reunite the two of you. He remembered watching the golden glow of falling stars fondly the first time, eyes shinning with hope and wonder, later to be replaced with sorrow when his spot was taken, stolen right out from under him.

He didn't understand why it took you this long to try again, pouting and looking desperately at the sky every night with the small hope that he would once again see that same glow of falling stars.

It became ritualistic in a way, downing a glass and humming a song, staring up at the stars for a while, trying to forcibly will them to behave.

He could feel his heart beating right out of his chest when he did see it again, hope bubbling up in its place, only to once again be dissolved into nothingness when the glow didn't quite reach him, passed right over him in the direction of Liyue.

Was this your will? Or was the universe simply destined to keep the two of you apart-

He wouldn't stand for the latter. Universe be damned, if it was him you wanted then it is him you shall have.

When the light grew dark he was still there, that was simply the way it was, you would try again, right?

How long would it take you this time...

'It isn't fair', rang out in his head, similar thoughts bouncing around.

Was there not anything he could do?

A few thoughts came to him in that moment, most simply the irrational product of frustration, but one rang out amongst the rest.

It was immoral sure, incredibly selfish too, but the more Venti thought it over, the more it seemed like the only option.

You must want him, right? That can be the only explanation as to why the stars presented themselves to him yet again, so would it really be wrong of him to help?

He could justify it under the premise of simply enacting your will, and in that case, not doing so would be considered blasphemy.

Venti quickly stood from where he sat on the edge of the hands of his own statue, it was a beautiful place to watch the stars.

How would this distraction work? Did he even have a way to hide people from the universe's view?

It took a minute longer for an answer to dawn on him, his spirit immediately perking up when it did.

It's not as if the stars could claim someone they couldn't see—

He jumped from the statue immediately, using a wind glider and his own powers to propel himself higher, high enough to see the streets of Mondstadt clearly.

He just had to spot any vision bearer that happened to be outside and lead them in, somewhere where the brilliant glow of the night sky didn't reach.

That didn't sound particularly difficult.

The first one Venti spotted was Diluc, standing idly outside the tavern with his back against the wall, looking up at the sky with the same frustration and barely hidden dismay that Venti had previously worn.

He dropped into an empty nearby ally silently, any sound covered by the light rustling of wind.

"Oh Diluc!"

The man instantly snapped his gaze up, a rather irritated expression forming at the sight of the energetic Bard.

Venti wasted no time running up to him, grabbing the taller man's arm and practically dragging him into the tavern.

Diluc almost tripped over himself at the sudden force, "What are you—"

"I'm in the mood for a particularly difficult cocktail," Venti cut him off immediately with that same singsong voice, "And there just isn't anybody else who can make it nearly as good, I'm lucky to have found you here!"

Lucky huh? Diluc's luck, on the other hand, seemed to be getting worse by the second. First the stars didn't deem him worthy, and now this?

The bar was just as bustling as it usually was with the same nightly crowd. Venti quickly pulled Diluc to the counter, listing off multiple complex instructions at light speed while doing so.

"Charles can make anything I can, it's not as though I hire incompetent bartenders—"

"I'll pay double."

Diluc promptly closed his mouth, it was rare to get the Bard to pay anything at all, much less more than full price, and this was already one of the more expensive drink options because of the outsourced ingredients...

With a sigh and a slight nod, Diluc went to the back in order to obtain the proper glassware, giving Venti just enough time to empty one of the ingredient jars.

Ground mist flowers. While he didn't doubt that Diluc had extra mist flowers in the back, the powder didn't last long by itself, so it was unlikely there was any spare. That meant that it would have to be ground fresh, a process that took at least half an hour due to the elemental nature of the flower.

Diluc promptly notice the absence of the necessary ingredient upon his arrival, face darkening slightly.

"It... Might be a minute—"

Venti could hardly keep the smile off his face, "Perfect, I have somewhere I need to be right now anyway, so take all the time you need!"

Without so much as another word Venti dropped the necessary amount of money on the table and darted out the door.

The astronomer lady who had recently settled in to the Inn was another threat, but that solution wasn't nearly as difficult as the previous one.

A magic seal on the doors and windows seemed simple enough, and it's not as if he wouldn't come back and lift it after his reunion with you.

Liyue was a fair distance away too, the chances that he could make it all the way there and back before you decided to try again were rather low...

Maybe it was about time he cashed in one of his many favors from Zhongli.

You knew you had previously said you were going to wait an hour, but the suspense was really starting to get to you.

So you found yourself here, once again on Venti's banner with only twenty pulls available to you. Even though you did technically have a guarantee, getting a five star character with zero pity wasn't an easy task.

You took a deep breath, mentally lowering your expectations as you clicked the ten pull button, watching intently for the star color.

So you were shocked, to say the least, to see the same golden hue you had seen on your previous pull light up the screen.

Was this actually happening?

You couldn't help the laugh of complete disbelief that escaped you when you saw him, you felt the need to personally thank whatever God had just blessed you.

Immediately opening up his character menu and working on ascensions that you had farmed for, Venti felt as if he could pass out from joy.

All that running around had been worth it, he was yours. He could feel your energy interwoven with every fiber of his being, practically hear your laugh ring out amongst the night sky.

He was yours he was yours oh he was yours. The stars had accepted him, you had accepted him, nothing else seemed to matter.

As long as you didn't happen to notice the large dark clouds covering the star's light from shining on Teyvat, how the only hole that appeared in them seemed to be right below where he was currently standing.

Sure, Venti now had a pretty hefty debt to pay back to Ei, but that was neither here nor there.

All that mattered was your gaze that now shown down upon him, enveloping him completely in a feeling of comfort long forgotten.

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #🫧 anon

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wri0thesley · 10 months

Note

*bursts through the door* I AM HERE WITH OTOME RECCS FRIEND—

Nameless: The One Thing You Must Recall: Cheritz’s other traditional visual novel. If you liked Dandelion, you’ll probably love this even more. It’s got beautiful art and most definitely leans into a horror aspect (in both the bad endings and some routes!) sometimes while still having nice romance. Available on Steam.

Even If Tempest: this game IS on the Switch but I had to recommend it anyways, it’s the first one I thought of when you asked for dark fantasy! Another really beautiful game with some really fun gameplay mechanics and one of my absolute favorite MCs. I also really love all the boys in some way!

Nightshade: you can get this one on both the Switch and on Steam! Idk how much you’re into historical stories, but I’ll recommend it anyways because it’s one of my favorite games and it absolutely is angsty haha. It takes place right after Japan’s Sengoku period and it’s about shinobi (ninjas). Really pretty art, another one of my favorite MCs, and another game where I love most of the boys.

Olympia Soirée: so, this game has pretty detailed world-building and a lot of darker themes, so that’s the main reason for my recommendation. There are themes of misogyny and dubcon and noncon in it, so just a heads-up before you look into it more <3 But I personally enjoy it a lot and it’s another game that’s just beautiful art-wise (are you noticing a pattern here…). Available on the Switch.

Cafe Enchante: I haven’t played this game myself, but it has a reputation for two things: (1) allowing you to date mostly nonhuman characters, and (2) looking really sweet and cute but actually being an angst-fest. I don’t know how to rate it personally, but I thought I’d toss it your way anyways. Available on the Switch.

Hakuouki: a classic, you can get both games for super cheap on Steam. Another historical game, but with some fantasy elements thrown in as well.

Virche Evermore: this game comes out this fall, but I’m bringing it to your attention anyways because it is RIGHT up your alley, I think. It’s supposed to be a super dark fantasy/sci-fi game with a lot of heavy stuff in it, to the point that you have to play all the bad endings before you can play the good endings. The game wants you to feel bad haha. Available for the Switch.

Finally, if you liked Amnesia and you’re enjoying Piofiore, I’ll definitely also tell you about Piofiore 1926 and Amnesia Later x Crowd! Both of those games are for the Switch, and they’re great if you like the first two games. 1926 is a direct sequel to Piofiore with the same dark tone and a lot of the same themes, while Later x Crowd is a fandisc (game with additional fanservicey material haha) that does pick up where the first game left off, but it’s a lot fluffier? It can definitely be played like a sequel too. I enjoyed it a lot personally just because I love all the guys from Amnesia haha. So definitely check those out if you’re interested!

Okay, sorry for the long ask, but I couldn’t resist when you asked for recommendations hehe. I hope this is okay! Happy playing, and please keep us updated if you do end up playing more <3

ahh thank you so much for the recommendations anon!!! i will keep an eye on the ones that are switch only; i cant justify the £45 ones really but when they are on sales i may swoop in and grab them!!! <3

#nat.txt

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sucrosette · 5 months

Text

★— ⋆｡˚ [01. A Life in a Boarding School]

For Day 3 of Carry on Countdown 23, Alternate Universe

On his first day in a new school, in a new place, Simon Snow meets the most reprehensible sodding snob he's ever had the displeasure of meeting. And he's Simon's roommate. Grand.

Rated T for excessive cussing.

⋆｡˚

It’s a good school, Simon’s case manager says, in a rural area with good teachers. Not a lot of space to get into trouble out there, Simon’s case manager says while he’s barely paying attention to him, the half finished glass of whiskey sitting on the desk the preferred object of his attention.

Simon doesn’t really care. He’s kinda used to it by now. He should be more used to it by now. It’s not a big deal, he’s going to a boarding school in the middle of bloody nowhere where his case manager has one less shitty orphan he has to keep his eyes on. It’s not a big deal, it’s a good school, he’s been and past that adorable adoptable age anyway. He’s gonna be fine there, Simon repeats to himself, in a different voice than his case manager’s. It’s a softer voice, a nice lilting voice, a woman he’s never met before.

He likes to think, when he’s alone, that it’s his mother’s voice, even if he has no conscious memories of her. He doesn’t even have a picture of her. He doesn’t know anything about her, but hearing this mystery voice telling him he was going to be alright, he believes it, and that’s a pretty alright mother figure, Simon figures, for someone who has neither had nor was ever going to have a mother figure. It’s alright enough, Simon figures.

The ride out there is bumpy, but he manages to sleep through most of it anyway, not bothering to talk to the social worker who’s been assigned to drive him up there. They’re probably not paid enough for this. Simon’s certainly not paid enough for this. He figures it’ll be better this way. Less words to parse out, less thinking to do, just float mindlessly through the travel and get into his new dorm. He could figure out classes after settling into his room.

He slams into his room same as he always had, except this isn’t just his room. Well, he’s kind of used to that. Simon almost always has a roommate or two. So that part’s not so abnormal. His roommate this time just happened to be occupied when Simon had done the aforementioned slamming.

“Fuck!” His roommate shouts, classically tall, lean, sleek black hair smoothed back into a perfectly kept bun, dark skin gorgeous in the reflection of the sun. He’s honestly everything Simon’s not.

“Fuck,” Simon echoes, tone flat as he takes in the scene before him. His new roommate, his brain is blanking on a name, just another mark against him, had been painting. It had probably been something nice before Simon had slammed his way into the bedroom. Now… well, now it was a mess of blotchy paint spatters and paint water.

At least the floor under his roommate is covered with newspaper and other scrap paper to keep the hardwood from being utterly ruined. The clothes on this bloke though, well, Simon hopes there’s a proper laundry staff, because otherwise the clothes are probably done for too. The canvas is definitively unrecoverable though, or whatever had been in progress was going to need to be started from scratch.

Simon glances about the rest of the room, seeing the bed closer to the door unoccupied and undisturbed, drops his bag of sparse belongings onto it, the door shutting much more quietly behind him as he manages it.

That’s when his roommate glowers back at him.

“Ah– I’m sorry, mate–” Simon tries for niceties, but to no avail.

“Have you ever bloody thought,” The way his new roommate bellows is something to be impressed about, somehow both elegantly spoken in a clean, crisp accent and laced with just the right balance of rage, “About bloody fucking knocking?”

Simon scratches at the back of his head and shrugs, “I didn’t think–”

“You bloody well did not,” His roommate snarls at him and Simon can’t help but roll his eyes back.

“Oh sod off, I’m sorry about the painting and the startle but there’s no reason to get your knickers in a twist over it.” Simon’s already flopping onto his bed, kicking his shoes off with his feet, arms stretched out over his head, eyes closing in pleasure at the feeling of it under him. If there was one actually nice thing about his new boarding school, the beds weren’t shite, at least.

Simon opens his eyes to see his roommate looming above him and nearly startles himself, but catches himself before he accidentally socks the bloke in the jaw.

“I was nearly finished,” His roommate’s voice somewhat more collected now, but no less fuming under the surface, “And it was piece I was looking forward to finishing too.”

Simon’s toes curl a little at the sound of it, leaning up on his elbows, and some insane part of him registers his new roommates eyes are a gorgeous grey when they’re full of rage. “Was it an assignment?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter. It’s the principle of the thing. You’re going to make it up to me.”

“Well how in Crowley’s name am I supposed to that, Mr…?”

“Baz,” His roommate answers shortly, still entirely too close to his face, “Just Baz. I’ll brainstorm on that and get back to you, but don’t think I’m going to let go of this first day misstep so easily, just because it’s your first day.”

Simon snorts out a laugh at that and Baz backs off half a step, straightening above him, “Alright, if you say so, Just Baz.”

“Terrible joke, Simon Snow.”

And now his roommate’s went and gotten a point over him on the names too, dammit. “I didn’t know I was supposed to come up with certain standards of joke for my new roommate. Excuse~ me for not giving half a shit for not meeting them right off, Your Highness.”

“Again, Baz will do just fine,” Baz answers cleanly, assessing Simon from head to toe, a scrutiny that made Simon’s skin crawl with how rigorous it was, “I suppose you’re going to have to repay me sooner than later. There’s no way you’re lasting the month here.”

“Oi!” Simon starts up, turning with his own glare set upon Baz, just as fierce as the other, “What the bloody hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Baz is already cleaning up the mess from his paint spill, a lingering look sent to his canvas before shaking his head. He waves Simon’s question off with a hand, “No one likes dorming with me, but Father Dearest donates too much to expel me, you’ll request a new roommate soon enough. Then I’ll have blessed peace again.”

Simon huffs, arms crossed as he stands, “Well good bloody luck getting rid of me, then, Prince Stick up His Arse.”

“Ha! Alright, that one was better,” Baz barks, stepping back as Simon steps into his space to help clean up the mess he’d really been responsible for. Baz perks a brow, but doesn’t bother to stop Simon from it, his lips half quirked up. “Good luck here, Snow.”

“I don’t need it, but thank you anyway.” Simon’s practically snatching the mess of papers off the floor, channeling his annoyance into the art of cleaning, something of a first for him.

“Well, I surely hope not,” Baz’s voice softens just a touch, “Maybe you’ll surprise me yet.”

Simon hates that the tone shift alone is enough to make him want to kiss the sodding prick.

#Carry On Countdown #COC 2023 #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing

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fueledbysano · 2 years

Text

𝟎𝟎𝟗 | still take you home

summary: and as he looked into her eyes deeply for the first time, he could see the future that he never dreamt of, but now longed for more then ever. [ Y / N ] shares a sweet moment with Mikey as she treats his wounds after a fight. Takemichi meets the pair's daughter from the future.

content/warnings: this story contains major Tokyo Revengers manga spoilers, canon divergence setting, tenjiku arc setting, comfort, fluff, angst, detailed writing of violence, weapons, blood, death, and strong language.

a/n: using a new layout :) also i apologize for the lack of updates i still very much love this series but I had to reread the arc and it required a lot of finding for free time to do that. anyways, here's nine.

wc: 4k

series masterlist | previous | next

The school gates after hours were a place for lovers and cliques. Every available seat was occupied by either— a couple gazing into one another’s eyes; or a fun group cracking jokes. Yet by the fountain stood a lonesome girl, statue-like in her styled uniform.

[ Y / N ] almost belonged, but not quite.

You dressed in scrubby maroon trousers like all others and wore a white button-up with a complementing necktie under a black leather jacket patched with some band logos that had been in fashion before you were born.

While it quite sucks that none of your close friends in Toman or the girls go to the same school, the loneliness in the environment is a blessed curse. I think most people will agree when I say— Existence by yourself offers the possibility for true tranquility to settle every aspect of your being after a stressful day.

Growing up alone was terrifying to you. You’re fortunate in a way that you eventually had people’s pleasant company that has brought harmony, delight, and a fresh sense of surprise. All while respecting your personal time.

We occupy this equilibrium, and it is wise to be aware of these emotional ebbs and flows.

This school was your only “break” from the bustle of you and your friends’ gang life, so it was only acceptable that none of the people here truly knows the reasons behind your absences, as well as your reserved and serious demeanor; and you were happy to maintain decent grades whilst keeping a low profile.

However, trying to live two different lives will eventually catch on, and will make things complicated.

“No shit, she does street racing?!” You subtly turn your head to the right, only to see in your peripheral vision the clique of the school’s wealthy and “popular” kids seated on the other side of the fountain.

Were they talking about me? You question yourself, and maintain your posture. You know it’s possible that at some point, your schoolmates will have to find out that you break speed limits (and when necessary, bones) for a living. and you were never really ready for that.

“Makes sense, she doesn’t even come to school every day and we’ve never seen her outside. Probably gets into fights too.” One girl spoke. You find it quite obnoxious of her to spread rumors about someone right behind them.

“She seems cool, invite her over and let’s ask.” One guy spoke up.

“Yo, [ L / N ]–chan!” The group finally made themselves visible to you by surrounding your space.

“Care for a drink?” A girl offered.

“That depends.” You answered, relaxing your shoulders and letting your elbows situate on the concrete behind you.

“It’s on us!” They insisted.

“I can hear you, y'know?” You spoke, referring to the earlier incident.

“Yeah. So… Do you still wanna come?” The girl asks.

“Hm,” You hum in response, taking a few steps forward as you stuffed your hands in your pockets. Not only they’re obnoxious gossipers, but also rude.

Did they mean alcohol? If so, you didn't want to overshare and drive under the influence. If they meant coffee or anything of the like, it’s always nice to get treated. And although you don’t exactly like it, small talk would do. It’s a small price to pay for their company and drink.

However, having heard what they have been talking about earlier, you knew their intentions right away. So, you had to decline.

Just as you were about to respond, a crowd of students at the front started to steer clear of the area as the sound of a familiar, loud motorcycle engine was fast approaching. You hum to yourself before walking past the group, just in time as Mikey pulls over at the front gate.

He was quite earlier than the usual time when he fetches you from school.

“Hey, B. Hop in.” He spoke, tossing a helmet your way which you effortlessly caught just above your height.

Mikey kept a close glare on the group of students who were surrounding you. “I’ll catch you another time.” you mounted the seat behind him on the motorcycle before securing the helmet over your head.

“Tch.” Although you couldn’t see it, one of the girls rolled her eyes and took her friend as they left.

“Hey, Mikey.” You smiled at him through the side mirror, encasing his torso in your arms.

“Come on.” He pats your arm before revving the engine loudly and then speeding off.

“Were those kids bothering you?” He asks once you reach a quieter road.

“Actually, I can’t tell.” You answered. “This isn’t the way to my house. Where are we off to?”

“Emma. She wants to have you and Hina over for dinner.”

“Yes!”

Not long enough, the two had pulled over in front of a small record store where Emma part-timed.

“Everyone will meet here. Do you mind waiting?”

“Not at all, I like hanging out here.” You answer upon opening the glass doors to the shop, the dainty bells above making a sweet chime which notified Emma of your presence.

“[ Y / N ]-chan! Let me just close up and we’ll go.” She spoke from behind the counter.

“Take your time, I’ll be here.” You waved her off, making yourself comfortable on the common area couch. “What’s new this week?” Your eyes were focused on scanning through the vinyl records to test out on the player.

However, just as you picked your choice, Mikey had already put on a Linkin Park record which started to spin and play on the player. With a smile, you relaxed back down on the seat, letting your legs rest above Mikey’s lap which earned a faint hum from him.

But just as he saw your cozy state laid on the couch comfortably, he pats on your leg with a smile, keeping it in place before slouching onto a more comfortable position himself.

“I’m so glad we got to go home early today, we have been preparing for the event all day…” Mikey didn’t even hear your fussing, his mind too clouded with the thought of your closeness and how he wished you didn’t have other plans and stay just as it is.

“Mikey, it's almost time.” Draken’s voice followed the store bell chime, diverting your head to the Toman founders heading to see their leader.

“Right.” You let your legs fall to the ground to let Mikey get up, then shift to get up on your own.

“Hey, Emma! We're leaving.” Draken calls.

“Yeah, say goodbye to your brother.” Mikey added.

“Bye, Mikey!” Emma waved from behind the counter. “And uh, goodbye, Draken!” She smiled sweetly at the tall boy as the rest of them left.

However, Mikey remained, eyeing his friends on their bikes before turning to you, who returned to the seat to inspect your phone.

“Hey.” He was situated on your side, making his presence known.

“Hm?” You hummed in response, now looking the boy in his eyes.

“A kiss before we leave?” With a pout, he asks so adoringly, making it impossible for you to deny. Which you didn't, leaning forward to initiate a sweet kiss with the boy as your second kiss with him.

“You're my first kiss, you know?” You breathed out in between kisses.

“And I you.” He sweetly responds. “And I want a thousand more.” He added, pulling you in for another kiss before he leaves.

“Have fun at dinner.” Mikey grins.

“Good… luck with the meeting?” You chuckled.

“I'll see you soon.” Mikey's hands wandered down your waist for a hug before sending himself off. However, upon turning to the doors, Draken stood tall with his arms crossed and an impatient look on his face.

“AH!” Mikey yelped.

“Tsk.” Draken shook his head.

“Oh, there’s the lint.” Your hands scurried to his shirt to flick off a "lint".

“Bye bye!”

“Bye…” You waved in response, watching him leave the store with Draken.

“So, what are we having?” You turn to Emma just as she leaves the staff room.

“Hina is showing us the new place that opened up down the road.” She smiled, flipping the “CLOSED” sign on the door you’d just walked past.

“Hina-chan! This is an amazing choice of place. The food and ambience is really nice.” You chirp just as the waiter leaves upon serving your desert.

“Hm, I wish I had ordered the parfait too…” Hina admired the treat on the table.

“We can share, here.” You insist, pushing the tall glass in the middle of the table.

“So, my friends at school were talking about kid names,” Hina mentioned while digging into the layers of cream,

“Why?” You wondered, picking off the cherry on top.

“We drew our ‘future kids’ in arts class today. The teacher was asking for a name too.” She explained.

“I’m glad we didn’t do that at my school. Would’ve taken me more than a day. I’m very indecisive.” You chuckled.

“You would.” She agreed.

“Anyways, what did you come up with?”

“I really like the name Lili.” She spoke.

“That’s so cute, Hina-chan! I would’ve put Kuroe.” Emma agreed.

“Like the American movie? That’s so nice.” You spoke.

“What about you, [ Y / N ]?” Emma nodded in agreement before turning to you.

“I… don’t know. Never really thought of it. Ask me again in like… Twelve years?” You chuckled, tossing in a random number as you finished the fruit.

While digging into the parfait, you were lost in thought when all of a sudden you remembered a name you adored and had once read in a book you enjoyed. Morin, that’s right.

“But, I do like the sound of the name—” Just as you were about to mention it, your phone rang and displayed the name of one of your teammates. “Excuse me.” You sigh, sliding out of the booth you sat on.

During your absence, Emma and Hina carried on with the conversation until the blonde girl had emptied her cup of tea.

“Alright, it's reading time.” One of her found-hobbies was Tasseography, which is the art of identifying symbols and interpreting messages found in the shapes and configurations of tea leaves.

“I’ll finish this then do mine too!” Hina spoke, sipping on her own cup.

“Yeah, me too. You haven't done my leaves in a while, Emma.” You returned just in time, pushing your empty tea cup towards the girl.

“Alright, give me.” She picked the ceramic cup, carefully inspecting the shapes at the bottom of it.

“[ Y / N ]–chan?”

“Yeah?” You hum, watching her reactions.

“Are you and Mikey dating?” She asks right away.

“What?” Your eyes widened, curious of what she had in mind.

“You see— this sign here means strong emotion, and uh… here is a heart for love, romance, and home…” She observed, showing the symbols for you.

“If the zodiac wheel is printed on this cup, the heart would be on… the Leo house.” She added.

“Mikey-kun is a Leo!” Hina mentioned.

“Yeah, exactly.” Emma agreed. “This chain pattern right here means a series of events and responsibility so you will be busy…” She continued,

“and uh, the cross sign here means… plus, or addition. Something or someone is coming into your life. That’s all.” Emma finished, placing the cup back down.

“Is that bad?” You wondered.

“Only fate knows.” She smiled, which you hummed in response to.

“Your turn, Hina-chan!” Emma turned to her.

“So, all that from an empty cup of tea?” Hina questioned.

“Amazing, huh?” She responded, this time with the other girl’s tea cup in her hands.

“Uhm, about Mikey…” You started,

“You don't worry about me! I always knew you two would end up together, you know?” Emma chuckled and paused for a moment. “and I helped him pick the flowers he gave you, so I figured.” She shrugged.

“You know, I hated being given flowers. It’s like people are giving me something to look after. Like a pet.” You mentioned, slightly slouching on your booth. “So I’d rip them apart and put them in my car to smell nice.” You added.

“But, I didn’t do that with the ones he gave, they’re still fresh on my desk.” You smiled to yourself before noticing your two friends giggling at your words. “Whatever.” You shrugged off, turning your gaze away.

“I never knew someone would like my brother this much.” Emma pointed out.

“Shut up.” You laughed, tossing a napkin towards their way.

“Okay, I’m done reading yours, Hina-chan.”

“Tell me everything!”

After your dinner, Hina insisted on heading home while you and Emma decided to stop by at Toman’s meeting. Sitting on the trunk of one of the parked cars, you managed to get a view of the scene in front of the taller guys who were towering your view.

Mikey is currently in the middle of a fight with a few guys, with two of them left standing and evidently struggling to fight back.

“I thought this was just a meeting.” You wondered, sipping from the bottle of water in your hand.

“He’s punishing the guys who attacked the third division.” Mitsuya joined your spot.

“That gang, right.” You nodded.

Upon finishing the bottle, you continued to watch the ongoing fight. This time, with only one guy left standing. Be careful— you kept on thinking. Everyone is aware of Mikey’s confidence, yet, you could only wish for his safety and certain victory at this very moment.

He, however, noticed your presence by how you stood out on that car trunk and the way a lamp post shred light to your frame.

“Ooou!” Some members winced once the guy managed to land a punch onto Mikey’s cheek, in which he quickly shrugged off and returned, this time with much greater intensity, sending the guy to the ground.

“Alright, everyone’s dismissed. Scram.” Draken demanded, instantly sending everyone to clear the area, hop on their bikes, then leave.

“You took a pretty hard hit.” You voiced, touching his jaw with your fingertips as you observed the bruising skin.

Mikey quietly awed at your gesture, in which he responded with an “I’m fine.” You nodded before taking out a can of soda from the plastic bag of the convenience store you’d stopped by earlier to buy snacks.

Mikey utters a soft “thank you” before taking you to stand by his bike. “Welcome.” You smiled, leaning against the seat along with him.

“[ Y / N ], you do know that… I will never hurt you, right?” He blurts, holding the cold can against his face.

You then realized where this may be coming from, which you assured him in an instant. “Mikey,” You sighed, turning to face him.

“When you looked at me… you seemed scared.” He added.

“I’m not. I’ve seen you fight like a million times.” You chuckled. “It’s just that… this time, I was extra worried for you.” You abruptly turned away from the blurt of emotion before deciding to get to your point. “... and Kenchin. Because then, he’ll be the one who will treat your injuries.” You joked, lightening up the mood.

“To me, you’re our Mikey.” You spoke, taking away the can from his hand. “Who will do everything in his power to protect the people he cares about.” You smiled, carefully cradling his face in your palms. “So to answer your question… I do know that. Always have.” You reiterated with a gentle smile.

In response, he gently pulls your chin towards him and carefully surrounds his lips with yours as you elevate your head to his and offer your lips.

Slightly smiling against each other’s lips, his eyes flutter shut in response, intoxicated by your effect on him.

“Good night guys, be safe on the way home.” On the other side of the parking lot there stood Mitsuya who was preparing to leave with his motor, waving at Draken and Chifuyu who had sped off to the road.

“Your girlfriend is not here?” He turned to Takemichi who stood still, making sure that everyone had left safely.

“[ Y / N ] said she went home early.” He says.

“Oh, need a ride then?” Mitsuya offered.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He politely declined with a bow before bidding their goodbyes.

“Nakata Wheels Downtown.” Morin read out the signage on top of the building, making sure that this is the place where [ Y / N ] lived.

It had been an hour since she stood on the opposite side of the road, thinking through how to approach her mother’s past self. Suddenly, a motorcycle pulls over at the front just as she was about to cross. “Shit.” She cursed, realizing it was [ Y / N ] and Mikey.

“Good night.” She spoke softly, sending the boy off with a hug before he sped off, then blinking the tail lights three times.

[ Y / N ] stayed outside until the boy came out of sight then she carefully lifted the garage doors, tossing her belongings in a car before getting on it to leave.

“Oh, where are you going?” She spoke to herself, hiding into a blinder spot to avoid being seen.

With a failed attempt to connect to [ Y / N ] she turns away to retreat, deciding to start looking for places to sleep at. “At least I’m sure that’s where she lived.” She sighs, sitting at one of the benches at the park she passes by.

With a heavy sigh, she began to slowly slouch and drift into a deep sleep on the uncomfortable bench, until someone talking on the playgrounds had woken her up.

“Mmmn. Better get back home before mom and dad wake up!” Upon opening her eyes, she sees a pink-haired girl and a blonde boy talking by the slides.

“Hina, um…” The boy sighed, “About that stuff I just said, I mean, the future stuff.” He rambled.

Hina?

“I didn’t hear a thing.” The girl smiled in response.

“Huh?”

“Bye-bye, Takemichi-kun!” She turns to leave, waving the boy goodbye.

“Awright! I got a lotta stuff to get done!” He yells at himself with a pep-talk. “For this time-leap, I know who the enemy is…”

Morin gasped at the mention of his name. Takemichi is [ Y / N ]’s close friend in the future, who could apparently time leap too. Has she finally found someone to approach?

But of course, she thought it would be hilarious to mess up with him first.

As he was continuing to do a monologue, Morin had already sneaked behind, landing a slide kick to his ankles which caused him to fall on his ass on the ground.

“What, who are you?!” The boy yelled, looking up at her with surprise.

“Hello, uncle.” She smiled before stepping on his feet to keep him in place.

“Who?” He asks in confusion.

“You know, I genuinely thought—” She was about to answer until someone had dragged her shirt from the back, “Wait, what—” Upon facing the person, Hina was back with an angered expression, making sure to land a slap on Morin’s cheek the moment she turned to her.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“Why’d you do that? And yea, who are you even?” Takemichi winced, getting up from the ground.

“Sano.”

“Eh? Sano?” He asked in surprise.

“Morin [ L / N ]-Sano.”

“D&D motors” Read on the shop [ Y / N ] went off to collect her car that had been damaged and repaired.

“He looks good as new.” Seishu says, tossing the car keys to [ Y / N ].

“He does, thank you.” She agreed, fingers brushing over to the once damaged door which was now brand-new quality. “Welcome back, baby.” She muttered.

Inui was counting the cash she had paid him when her phone started to ring, “[ Y / N ]– desu.” She answers upon seeing Hina’s name on the screen.

“Hey, are you home yet?” The girl on the other line spoke.

“No, I’m on my way to Yokohama.” [ Y / N ] answered.

“Huh? This late?”

“Racing stuff. Are you home?” She asks, changing the matters in an instant.

“Yeah. Takemichi-kun just dropped me off.”

“That’s great, good night Hina-chan.” She nodded.

“Good night, [ Y / N ]-chan!”

“Try not to answer the phone while you’re driving this time.” Seishu noted, folding up a greased towel in his hands.

“Too soon.” [ Y / N ] turns to him with a straight face. “Still giving you a tip though. Thanks.” But she smiles in an instant, slipping a 500-yen bill in his work shirt pocket before getting in the car to leave for Yokohama.

“[ Y / N ] is sneaking off somewhere. We can’t take you to her.” Hina spoke upon ending the call.

“Of course you can’t!” Morin scoffed. “What’s your plan? Drop me off at her place like— ‘Hey! It’s me! Oh, who’s this? It’s your child. Gotta go’!” She narrated.

“I don’t understand…” With brows tense, and deep into thoughts, Takemichi spoke out. “You weren’t even born yet when I time leaped.” He mentioned, having recalled that [ Y / N ] just found out she was pregnant at the hospital in the future.

“Seems like I’m from far ahead than where you were from.” Morin added.

“Are you sure you’re not another half-sibling or something?” Takemichi scratched his head. Morin sighed in response, taking out a folded up photo from her pocket.

“This is what dad looked like in the future, right?” She asks, showing a photo of an adult Mikey and [ Y / N ] on a beach. She had snuck this from when they were packing things, meaning to keep it in an album before she miraculously went back in time.

“He’s gone and it was just me and mom.” She added.

“Seems that we have the same abilities but you are physically here.” Takemichi pointed out. “Fascinating.” He added.

“What do you mean?”

“I can only time leap twelve years into the past, then back to the future. However, only my consciousness ‘travels’. I’m basically the grown up ‘me’ in my high school self.” He explained. “You weren’t even alive this time. You’re really here. The future [ Y / N ] must be wondering where you are.”

“That is so cool.” She replied. “But, you're right. So, what do we do?” Morin asks.

“Go back. Who’s your trigger?” He asks.

“...what?”

“Listen, what I’m doing here can get dangerous. I… I died in the future I just came from.” He explained, muttering the last part loud enough only for her to hear.

“Damn.” She sighed heavily.

“The [ Y / N ] I know in the future has been hurt enough already, please just come back to her before anything happens to you. She can’t lose both you and Mikey-lun.” He stressed.

“You’re here because you want to get her back, right?” Morin hinted. “Well, I’m here to be with them. I’m not going back until I’m sure mom and dad end up together.” She confided.

“Tsk.” Takemichi sighed, burying his head in his palms.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” The girl questioned.

“You really are their kid.” He sighed in response.

“Eh?”

“You’re brave. Like Mikey-kun and [ Y / N ].” He vouched. “Fine, we’re going to talk tomorrow. For now, do you have anywhere to stay?”

“No. I’ve been sleeping on trains since I got here.” Morin answered.

“You can stay at our home.” Hina insisted. “Will your folks be okay with that?” She asks. “ I’ll just tell them you’re sleeping over because your parents aren’t home.” Hina says. “That works.” The other girl agreed.

“Alright, let’s get going, then.” Takemichi stood from the slide, following the girls as they walked ahead.

“So, that’s how the slap felt.” Morin says, feeling her cheek.

“Hm?” Hina turns to her.

“Mom said you slapped dad in the face one time.” She replied.

“Eh, yes…” Hina chuckled tensely, “Anyways, I’m really sorry about that.” She added.

“No worries.” Morin laughed.

“I still can’t believe it, you really are Mikey-kun and [ Y / N ]’s kid.” Takemichi mentioned it upon listening to their conversation.

“She has Mikey-kun’s hair too.” Hina pointed out.

“For the record, this is really weird to me too.” Morin turns to face him with a laugh. He got shivers just by looking at her due to how startlingly similar her expressions were to those of her father.

“Wait until you meet them, I guess.”

tag list [ open ]: @haimyvu @rizakari @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @mitsurisupremacy @moontofu @psmslove @slutaholic69 @im-like-yeah-hes-fine @keomi-kimo @springtimewolf1995 @bebesanzu @imshittingforyelena @dailyakira @idunnomynamesince2005 @juanaisdead @emilymikado @haruu-i @keisaint @misinfe @fxshigurosbae @xxserenitysnow666xx @emyrl @xngelsau @melody005 @daichisbabymama @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @r-xochitl @sleezy-axeriix @pandabooster @amerillyss @tellynojelly @kenkenmaaa @astrodiamond @ikilledsparky2 @soushswag @eriskaitto @awkwardaardvarkforever

#if/then #tokyo revengers #manjiro sano #mikey x reader #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #mikey sano x reader #mikey imagines

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empoleon · 1 year

Text

stranger things have happened

• rated m, one shot, 3088 words

• also available to read here

Wolfwood is humming something against the fabric of Vash’s shirt—his shirt, because Vash has taken to wearing his articles of clothing as of late—when Vash speaks up.

“They like that,” he says softly, tilting his head back with a smile.

Wolfwood pauses, lips ghosting a kiss near the spot where he was singing. “’S just something I heard a long time ago.”

From the orphanage, but it goes unspoken. Vash is fairly certain it’s in Wolfwood’s mother tongue as well, but he doesn’t comment on it—bringing that up now would probably embarrass him enough to stop and Vash certainly doesn’t want that.

They're in bed together at some rundown inn—traveling too much with Vash in his current state puts a bit of a strain on both of them, so it’s easier if they make frequent stops. They just need to be careful. They have to be careful.

Wolfwood would never forgive himself if something happened to—

It’s almost unnerving to feel the faintest movement touch the skin of his cheek, stopping his train of thought immediately. It’s such a brief feeling and he almost questions if it actually happened, but Vash beats him to it.

“Nick, did you—?”

“Yeah,” Wolfwood glances up at him, unable to hide the awe in his voice. “He moved.”

150 years. A century and a half, and Vash did not know about this.

To be fair, there is a lot about himself that he isn’t aware of, either purposely brushing it off as a one-off occurrence or simply refusing to acknowledge it.

Plant anatomy wasn’t something he was keen to learn about. He understood his basic, primal needs and that was that.

Humans, on the other hand…

Cross-species breeding simply never came to mind. And even if it did, Vash was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Wolfwood on top of him, holding him close, whispering things he longed to hear—knowing that each spoken word was true—he loves you, all of you, every single piece of your being, every scar and blemish branded from God himself.

(He loves you.)

“Oi, blondie—you want to tell me why you dragged me out here again?”

The dim lighting in the old saloon feels suitable at this moment, one of the lights flickering idly. It’s noisy, overcrowded and Vash almost reconsiders his priorities.

“How ’bout a drink first?”

It’s not something Wolfwood refuses, but he eyes the glass of water that is placed on their shared table. It’s murky in color, with a few specks of dirt swirling around, but it’s better than what they have seen in the previous towns.

Wolfwood grabs his own glass, filled with a smooth amber tinge. “So,” he takes a swig and licks his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Vash wants to laugh. Leave it to Wolfwood to get straight to the point.

“Nothing! Well, mostly nothing,“ Vash gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know how it is.”

Except Wolfwood doesn’t know, with the way Vash keeps skirting around the topic at hand.

The alcohol in his system is beginning to warm him up, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Vash is about to say something unimaginable. It worries him.

There’s a ruckus outside the saloon that quickly enters through the double swing doors, men shouting unintelligible things—words like ‘bounty’ and ‘where is he?’ are all that Wolfwood needs to hear before he downs the rest of his drink and roughly grabs Vash by the arm.

“Hey, wait—I didn’t get to finish my drink!” Vash whines dramatically as he stumbles to his feet. One of the men arguing with another patron glances over towards them and Wolfwood curses.

“Damn it! Will you shut it?” He swivels around and pulls Vash into a corner of the saloon, trying to obscure the view of the humanoid typhoon from any onlookers. Miraculously, it works.

The commotion dies down after the barkeep threatens to drain the tap and close up for the evening. Those who initially caused the uproar either slip back out into the night or decide it’s time for a drink.

Vash really wishes he could have one right now, too. The water on the table may not taste great, but his throat has never felt so dry.

His arms find their way around Wolfwood’s waist, and he holds him there for a moment, in the corner of that saloon. The lights flicker again.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Guess he likes my voice,” Wolfwood smooths a hand against the swell of Vash’s belly.

“He?” Vash can’t hide the curiosity in his voice at the word, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“Spikey, there is absolutely no way in hell you’re giving me a daughter,” Wolfwood states it so seriously that Vash starts to laugh. “I mean it. My heart won’t be able to take it.”

When he finally manages to tell Wolfwood what has been ailing him, he isn’t entirely sure what to expect, reaction wise.

Yelling or swearing? An average response, perhaps the best possible outcome, especially when it comes to the man Vash has known for so many years now. Calling him names falls under this category as well.

What he didn’t expect was the silence, or Wolfwood’s cigarette falling out of his mouth a second later.

“You’re—”

Vash nods, unable to say anything else. It’s hard to meet those dark eyes that are glued to his body.

“And it’s…” Wolfwood trails off, motioning to himself.

Another nod.

There’s a long pause before everything goes back to normal—whatever that actually is, Vash isn’t certain, but it feels like he can breathe again once Wolfwood regains his senses and finally says more than a few words.

“I thought you said we didn’t need to use condoms!” Wolfwood exclaims. “I asked you three times!”

Three separate times, in fact. Vash groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we don’t need to—we’ve never had—I didn’t think this was possible,” he settles on saying, because it’s true.

This was purely impossible, and yet somehow, after 150 years, his body finally decided it was time.

“With how often we fuck, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Wolfwood mutters.

He’s not wrong, as embarrassing as it is to think about it.

“So…” Vash wrings his hands together, eyes flickering between Wolfwood and the cigarette that has long since been forgotten on the ground. He moves his boot to step on it, putting it out.

“So,” Wolfwood parrots, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you okay? With all of this, I mean.”

“Me?” Vash blinks, confused. “I guess so, I was mostly worried about—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Wolfwood reaches over and pulls Vash into an embrace.

“Save it, blondie,” he says quietly. “You and I both know I’m fine with kids.” Wolfwood is also not wrong about that.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Are you okay with this? Is this what you want?

“I—yeah,” Vash lets out a shaky breath. “I really am.” He wraps his arms around Wolfwood’s neck and buries his face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Nick.”

For everything.

A daughter… she would look just like you, Nick, Vash thinks to himself while Wolfwood continues to argue with him—with their child. And she would act like you, too.

“I don’t need two needle-noggins in my life,” he says sternly, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “So please inherit some damn common sense—”

“I have plenty of common sense,” Vash interrupts him. “For example—”

Wolfwood scoots his hand up underneath Vash’s t-shirt and squeezes the warm skin of Vash’s hip with a rough hand, eliciting a yelp out of him.

“Don’t say another word,” he grumbles, “unless you want me to knock more of that so-called sense into you.”

Vash’s smile is everything devious in nature. “I would love to see you try.”

The first time Wolfwood sees just how different Vash is as far as humans go, he’s equal parts aroused and surprised.

“You really weren’t kidding,” he says while trailing a finger across the inner part of Vash’s upper thigh, tracing a scar that mars the skin there. It stops just short of what he could only describe as thin, petal-like folds, tightly wound and—quivering? “This is pretty freaky, spikey.”

“Don’t tease me,” Vash all but huffs as his body is out on display for him. One too many drinks later and they find themselves in yet another unfamiliar, yet all too recognizable inn bedroom.

It was easy for both of them to make it to this point—they always, always do, but this time it is different. It’s edging closer to something that neither one of them can turn away from.

Wolfwood grins at him. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

“Can you—y-yes, right there,” Vash’s calves tighten around Wolfwood’s shoulders instinctively, hands gripping the bed sheets beneath him.

“Easy, Vash,” Wolfwood is a little breathless when he pulls back, a hand trailing along the metal of his prosthetic. “Digging into my neck a bit there.”

Vash almost immediately tries to sit up, looking extremely concerned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

Wolfwood carefully presses a hand to Vash’s lower abdomen, stopping him. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” he licks his lips. “Lie back down.”

His legs loosen a bit, this time more mindful of Wolfwood’s fleshy shoulders. Vash had insisted on leaving his prosthetics on, enjoying being able to anchor himself against his lover.

Wolfwood continues where he left off, nose brushing the inner, wetter petals that are waiting for him, taking in Vash’s scent with a soft inhale.

He flicks his tongue across them, watching as they unfurl and invite him into something far greater.

“Nick—” Vash arches his back with a groan. “More, I—”

“More what?” Wolfwood murmurs it against the opening of his slit, lips finding their way around the swell of a small bud that is nestled between it. “Full sentences.”

“More, please,” Vash’s voice trembles, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Language, sweetheart,” Wolfwood presses a kiss to the bud, nips at it gently with his teeth and proceeds to curl his tongue around it.

He sucks long and slow, far too slow for Vash’s liking, evident in the way he hears another groan come from him.

Vash’s hand reaches for Wolfwood’s hair, tugging as he rocks his hips closer.

“Oh, Nick,” he gasps this time and Wolfwood is certain that he’s close, noticing how the room begins to glow a touch brighter.

Seeing those intricate patterns spark to life across various parts of Vash’s body ignites something truly deep within Wolfwood, far deeper than any spoken word of some higher being he could imagine.

They dance across scarred legs, skipping over pieces of well worn beryl-infused metal, trailing up Vash’s torso, his neck—

Vash shudders when he comes, fingers flexing into Wolfwood’s hair, purposefully forcing the man to stay put between his legs.

Not that Wolfwood would have ever minded.

He laps up everything that Vash gives to him and tries to coax out even more with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste that hits his tongue.

“Still with me, darlin’?” Wolfwood breaks away from him with a quiet gasp. He brings a hand up to his lips and wipes at it, grinning.

“Uh-huh,” is the only coherent response he gets, Vash’s body going limp with bliss. “’S good, Nick, you’re so good.”

“Preaching to the choir, I see,” Wolfwood runs a hand up Vash’s thigh, tracing along the intricate plant markings and noting how they shimmer brighter with each touch. “Let’s see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

“How did the appointment go?” Wolfwood eventually asks, moving up to settle beside Vash. “Did Brad ask about—”

“The feathers,” Vash nods and sighs quite dramatically. “It was going so well, too, but then I sneezed and everything just,” he lifted up both his hands and spread his fingers, metal and flesh flexing wide, “Exploded?”

“Exploded?” Wolfwood can’t help but laugh. “Our child is already a menace, I can't believe it.”

One morning Vash had awoken to small, downy feathers attempting to sprout from his shoulders and forearm—the last time that happened, any time that happened, actually, was when they—

Well. Vash definitely didn’t relay that information to Brad, but he didn’t try to hide any of his bodily changes when he went for his most recent checkup.

Luida suspected it had something to do with the pregnancy—that energy, a life, now being constantly generated from within him. He was bound to have some… interesting side effects.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Vash says after a moment. “You should’ve seen the look on Brad's face when it happened though, or the room,” he pauses and glances at Wolfwood with a smile. “Completely covered in feathers.”

Wolfwood snakes an arm across Vash’s chest, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. “Bet he loved that,” he closes his eyes. “Glad everything went smoothly, blondie. I should be able to come next time.”

Vash turns his head and presses a kiss to Wolfwood’s hair. “Luida would like that. She’s been dying to see you again, you know.”

“More like dying to have someone help out around the ship,” Wolfwood sighs, but there’s no malice in his tone. “Say, next time we visit…” he lowers his hand down Vash’s chest, stopping pointedly at his stomach. “They’ll be able to tell us what the little sprout is, yeah?”

Vash’s small intake of breath doesn’t go by unnoticed and it causes Wolfwood to sit up, getting a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Well—” Vash starts to say, but closes his mouth promptly.

“Wait,” Wolfwood reaches over to the side of the bed and suddenly the room is illuminated by the warm glow from the lamp. “Vash, don’t tell me you—” he glances back over at him and studies his face for a moment in silence. Vash desperately wishes Wolfwood wasn’t so damn good at reading him for once.

“You already know, don’t you?”

Vash groans and brings a hand up to his face. “It was an accident, Luida brought it up before I could stop her. I’m so sorry, Nick.”

Wolfwood exhales and slumps back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”

Vash attempts to roll over to face him, being on his back for so long starting to become a bit uncomfortable. “Nick?”

Silence.

“Nicholas,” Vash pouts—he definitely has no right to do so, but he can’t help it. “I can just tell you, would that make it better?”

“No,” Wolfwood sighs. “I still want it to be a surprise.”

“I can act surprised when she tells us!” Vash says with enthusiasm. Wolfwood gives him a withering look. “No? Okay, okay,” he frowns, “it was worth a shot, though.”

“You are a complete needle-noggin idiot, you know that?” Wolfwood reaches over to flick Vash’s head. “And… it’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Wolfwood stresses the fact with a poke to Vash’s cheek. “I can wait a few more weeks. You better not bring it up on accident, though, or else—”

“I won’t! I promise, scout’s honor!”

Wolfwood is a lazy kisser—Vash used to tease him for it, but it wasn’t as though he was much better—or had any practice.

And they really did have the time now for these sorts of things.

He sighs as Wolfwood peppers a trail of kisses up his chest, taking his time with each scar and meld of flesh and metal his lips come past.

“Nicholas,” Vash’s voice is light, full of warmth. “I thought you said— oh!”

Wolfwood captured his mouth with ease, stopping whatever teasing comment that was about to be said.

His lips are chapped, but still somehow soft, warm—Vash has half a mind to point that out, but Wolfwood won’t allow it with the way his mouth is working.

Vash gives in and sighs into the kiss, tugs him closer, prosthetic fingers raking through Wolfwood’s hair. It’s enough of an incentive to keep going, by any means.

Even if there is shouting outside the inn bedroom’s window, or the ringing of a few gunshots sounding off in the lingering desert air.

Vash breaks the kiss to turn his head, ignoring how Wolfwood sets his aim for his throat.

“Should we go—mmh,” Vash tries to suppress a moan, unsuccessfully, “check that out?”

Wolfwood pauses, lips lingering near Vash’s collarbone. “During the middle of this?”

He has a point.

And to further express said point, Wolfwood slowly rocks his hips along Vash’s thighs.

“You’re right,” and Vash can’t believe he’s saying it with a smile on his face, one that Wolfwood can’t see from this angle, but knows that the man can feel.

The whole room is lighting up, after all.

“It can wait,” Vash decides, and Wolfwood takes him.

One minute of silence passes between them, and then two.

“Okay, I can’t do this,” Wolfwood rolls over to face Vash. “’M not going to be able to sleep unless I know.”

Vash is unable to restrain himself from laughing. “Really? Surely there’s something in your good book about rewarding patience.”

“Always be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love,” Wolfwood recalls the passage in a low voice. “I think I’ve been pretty gentle lately, all things considered.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vash agrees, amused. “Not so humble, though. Might need some brushing up on that.”

Wolfwood slides a bit closer to Vash. “Good thing we’ll have some down time for the next couple of months then—I could use some practice.”

“I happen to know an excellent teacher,” Vash says. He feels Wolfwood snake an arm across underneath the blankets, reaching for his shoulder to pull Vash in an embrace.

“If you say Brad, I swear to fucking God—”

Vash’s huff of laughter is the only response Wolfwood gets before a pale hand beckons him closer.

Even in the now-quiet of the room, Vash’s whisper to his ear is perhaps the softest thing Wolfwood has heard in a very long time.

He can’t help his too sudden reply, his own voice on the verge of cracking. “Really?”

Vash nods. “Yes, really.”

And if Wolfwood hid his face in the crook of Vash’s neck, eyes filled with a dampness that threatened to spill over and unable to say anything else except a murmured ‘thank you’—

It was enough.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #hewwo friends long time no motherfuckin see am i right LOL #man. wow. it has really been a hot minute since i've last wrote something #trigun kinda took over my brain (not complaining tho)#i don't really have many pals who are into the series atm so i'm just yodeling into a void by myself tbh #anyway i posted this to ao3 the other day and figured i should cross post it here too #title is unabashedly from the foo fighters and yes it's in my wv playlist #nobody asked but i'm saying that much #these 2 guys r so fucking!!!!!!! TRAGIC #i just want them to have a family. god bless the plantussy #ok i am going now perhaps i will return? with more fics? we shall see #love & peace 2 u all <3

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