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secretsofafangirll · 1 month

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oral fixation - m.s.

summary: matts girlfriend loves to have things in her mouth. when she gets home after a day of minor inconveniences, she seeks comfort from her boyfriend, in a rather, unconventional way.

warnings: oral (male receiving), praising, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), soft!dom matt, sub!fem, talk of anxiety,

a/n: couple of things; one, the girl doesn't have a name so you can imagine whomever you'd like, two, i've started planning my Matt series...anyways, hope you guys like it! :)))

"A touch / From your real love / Is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil"

⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜⏜︵♡︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜︵♡︵⏜

For my entire life, I’ve loved having things in my mouth.

When I was younger, it was impossible for my parents to get my thumb or my pacifier out of my mouth. The comfort that came from having the object resting in my mouth was too intense for me to leave behind. Behaviors like that followed me into childhood with things like gum or lollipops. In high school, I chewed copious amounts of gum, always had a pen or pencil in my mouth and played with my lips all the time.

Naturally, when I managed to find myself a boyfriend, he became aware of my oral fixation in many ways. He would always notice how often I had things in my mouth or if I was biting my lips, he would offer me something else so I didn’t tear up the delicate skin. It got to a point where, if he and I were laying down together and one of his hands was unoccupied, I would simply reach down and grab his hand, bringing it to my mouth and wrapping my lips around one of his fingers and playing with it in my mouth. Of course Matt enjoyed this himself, but there were other ...situations, where this oral fixation benefitted him much more than putting a finger in my mouth.

Matt also understood why I do what I do. Him and I both struggle with anxiety, and we both have for years. In high school, I was medicated for it and had a hard time getting through the day. However, I hated the way that the meds made me feel and I swore to my parents that I wasn’t going to take them anymore and that I’d find another way to cope. Matt copes with alone time and silence but I get more overstimulated than he does and when I do, all I want is to have something in my mouth and someone to touch.

Which is why on days like these, anxiety ridden and insane days, I need my boyfriend and one of his extremities to rest between my lips.

After several cars cutting me off on the road and almost hitting me on the way to the gym this morning, I was already slightly shaken up and worried for my safety. When I got to the gym, there was a man somewhat following me around, conveniently using all of the machines next to me. After that, I went to the grocery store in hopes that they had some grapes and snacks for me to feel better, they were out of seedless grapes which sent me into a frenzy about the way that the seeds feel in my mouth, and the self-checkout lanes were under renovation and I had to talk to the cashier to check out.

I took shallow and quick breaths as I walked swiftly out to my car. I tossed the bag into the back seat and swung open the driver door. The second that I was enclosed in my car, in my space, I was able to calm myself down. Once I had myself under control, I started the car and drove home. When I arrived, I grabbed my things from the car and headed inside. I used my house key to unlock the front door, using my foot to close it behind me. I tossed my keys in the dish and heard Matt typing on the couch.

“Hi baby,” He said without looking up. I didn’t respond because I just wanted to put the groceries I picked up away and sit with him. “Alright,” He said and continued typing away.

I put the cold stuff in the refrigerator and the dry stuff in the pantry and cabinets before heading to his room to slide out my dirty and uncomfortable gym clothes and into one of his shirts. Once I was comfortable and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, I was finally ready to lay down next to him on the couch.

“Sorry,” I murmured quietly, gently taking a seat next to him and pulling a blanket over my legs, curling into his side and latching onto one of his arms, “I just wanted to put those away so that I could sit with you.”

I sat there looking for something of his to grab onto but his hands were occupied and I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I put anything else, if you know what I mean, in my mouth at the moment. I sighed quietly to myself and began to bite on my lips.

“You don’t have to apologize,” He said, leaning over to kiss the top of my head.

I continued my assault on my lips and I felt the skin tear and the metallic taste of my own blood rested on my tongue. When it started to hurt too bad to bite my lips, one of my hands found my mouth and I started to bite and suck on that instead, the other arm wrapping impossibly tighter around his. His elbow nudged my side and he looked over at me.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked without looking away from his computer where he was replying to emails and taking notes in a Google Doc. I only hummed, unwilling to take my fingers out of my mouth. My lack of a real response, which I know he hated, made him finally look up at me. My eyes blinked guiltily at him when his brows went from furrowed to concerned, “Sweetheart,” He sighed and reached up to pull my hand away from my mouth. I flexed all of my muscles to keep it in my mouth but he tilted his head at me and pulled harder, his strength easily overpowering mine.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, relaxing my muscles and looking down my hands with guilt and embarrassment written all over my face.

“Hey,” He said softly, reaching out to grab my jaw and gently pull my head up to look at him, “You don’t have to say sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shook his head and looked into my eyes for an explanation, “D’you have a bad day?” He asked and closed his computer screen ¾ of the way down.

“Kind of,” I said, questioning in my tone, “I don’t even know. It’s just been, like, too much.” I tried to spit it out but I struggled to pin-point how, exactly, I felt. It was just too much.

“That’s okay, baby,” He cooed, “You want my hand?” My eyes widened in excitement and I nodded before correcting myself with a ‘Yes, please’.

He brought his left forearm up to my mouth and I played with his long fingers trying to pick which one I wanted. I decided on the pointer first, but planned to use every finger but the pinky. He used his other hand to scroll through emails and business inquiries, also scrolling through pinterest to find inspiration for future videos.

I, on the other hand, swirled my tongue mindlessly around his fingers, taking them all the way into my mouth and then back out, my saliva coating his fingers down the knuckle. Every so often, he would shift his hips slightly or clear his throat and scratch his neck. I knew how this was affecting him, but he also respected my needs more than his and wouldn’t want to make me uncomfortable. After close to twenty minutes had passed of my sucking on his fingers, he looked at the time on his computer and closed it all the way. He leaned back against the couch, his hand still in my mouth and he turned his head as it laid against the top of the couch and he watched me mindlessly play with his fingers. When I fully pulled off his middle finger alone, I pushed his ring finger to meet it and took them both fully into my mouth. He groaned and I snapped my eyes to meet him and worked my mouth around his fingers.

“God, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that when you’ve got my fingers down your throat, honey,” He instructed gently, understanding of my rather fragile nature. I pulled off his fingers, letting my tongue teasingly drag across the length of them.

“Sorry,” I swallowed to clear my throat and scooted closer to him. He reached across himself and wrapped his dry hand around my thigh and under my knee to pull me onto his lap. I squealed at the sudden movement but settled and nuzzled into his lap.

“How many times are you gonna apologize, hm?” He questioned with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“You know how I am, Matt,” I laughed and grabbed his wrists and put them on top of my thighs, encouraging him to tickle them.

“Yeah, I do,” He smiled, “But that means that I know you’re gonna keep saying sorry until you feel better.” He accused me and I smiled like I’d been caught stealing, “What else do you need, baby?”

I blushed and looked down at my hands, “I don’t wanna-,”

“Oh, you’re gonna.” He said sternly.

“I want you.”

“You have me.” He said and nudged my chin with his knuckle, “What do you need?”

“Need your cock,” I said quietly.

“What was that?” He turned his ear toward me.

“I need your cock, Matthew.” I said louder.

“There she is.” He said and gently moved my thighs to allow me to sink to my knees in front of him. “See? Wasn’t that hard, no?”

When I was comfortable at his feet, I worked to remove his belt and unbuckle his pants. He did the work of actually pushing them down. His hard cock sprung out of his pants and he hissed as the cool air penetrated the sensitive and tacky skin. His tip was lathered in a small amount of pre-cum and he pulsed and twitched slightly. I pouted at the sight for two reasons; one being that it made me want him in my mouth even more, and two, I felt bad for the state I’d put him in.

“Matty,” I whined, tracing circles with the fingernails on his knees, “I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, all you’re getting is my fingers,” He tutted. My eyes widened in fear.

“Okay, I’ll stop.” I promised and he smiled down at me.

“Good girl.”

I got to quick work pumping his cock in my hand to get him ready. His cock looked so big compared to my smaller hand. It didn’t even fit around the entire thing. He groaned and hissed at the stimulation, his breathing getting heavier and slightly more labored. Soon, I leaned down and gently licked the tip before wrapping my lips around the tip. Pleasure and comfort washed over me and I continued to sink my head down onto his dick. His hands gathered my hair in a make-shift ponytail on my head and he held my hair out of my face. He didn’t push my head down, he just simply aided me in my quest for comfort, which I was most definitely finding.

“There you go baby,” He praised, “So fuckin’ good,” He whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

I took his cock down my throat slowly, suppressing the slight gag reflex I still have, though it’s not too bad. I whined around his dick with comfort and need.

“What baby?” He asked breathlessly, pulling me off him, “Why’re you whinin’? You got what you wanted, no?”

“No!,” I protested, pushing his hands away, “I’m fine! I just love having you, s’all.” I explained with a smile before going back down on him. As I continued to work his cock, my body visibly relaxed and the sighs of content that left my mouth. Matt simply closed his eyes above me, opening them periodically to watch me take him down my throat.

Matt started to get close, his hips becoming restless under me and his hands that were in my hair started to guide me down his cock faster. He moaned and whimpered as he grew closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck-,” He whimpered, “God, so good, baby. So close.”

His stutters and whimpers encouraged me to work with him faster, yet take my time on all of his sensitive bits. I relied on the relief that accompanied the weight of his cock on my tongue. I worked him until hips stuttered and bucked off the couch and he moaned my name and praises into the air.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He whispered, bucking his hips into my throat making me choke slightly but I didn’t care, “M Sorry. Fuck,” He whispered and then e shot his load down my throat. I felt the warm liquid hit the back of my throat and I swallowed it down. “Show me,” He demanded, once he caught his breath and he pulled me off him all the way. I stuck my tongue out to show him that I swallowed it and he smiled at me in response, lightly tapping my cheek with the hand that held my jaw.

“Thank you,” I sighed, my throat somewhat sore.

“No, thank you, my beautiful girl.” He leaned down and kissed me gently, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. When I pulled away, I bit the inside of my lip and looked into his eyes, silently yearning for more. His brows pinched together and his mouth opened slightly, “What, baby? Not enough?” I looked at him with a guilty smile and shook my head.

“I just want more,” I said quietly. He opened his mouth to respond but as soon as he did, his laptop and phone dinged several times, he looked at his phone and saw what it was.

“Look, sweetheart, I’ve got more work shit to do,” I groaned and sat back on my heels below him but he pressed a finger to my lips, “But, if you’d let me finish you impatient little baby,” he teased, “if you’re good and hold me without moving your tongue at all, you can stay where you are.”

“Yes please. I promise I’ll be good,” I nodded my head and sat back up right. He nodded at me and grabbed everything he needed to continue working and I took him back into my mouth. I zoned out with him in my mouth but it was still exciting to be getting what I’d been craving all day and my tongue jerked against a few times.

“Ah, ah,” He asked, “Settle, sweetheart. You promised me.” He directed and when I calmed down around his cock, his hand patted my head softly and he went back to typing away.

a/n: i'd been working on this for about a week or so. hope you guys liked it!!

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inf3ct3dd · 8 months

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streamer!ellie headcanons

warnings: yo no se

content : streamer!ellie headcanons 🔥🔥

authors note : the streets r calling and they’re telling me to write streamer ellie hcs….

- def started off as a faceless streamer. she wasn’t really comfortable on camera, and she just thought it would be way easier. you can only see her shoulders-down leaving her (deliciosu. scrumptious. yummy) arms in the cameras view.

- her twitch user is “creeperewman” cuz shes like…discreetly hiding her initials and referencing the best minecraft parody ever 😕!!!

- bought the most random shitty mic and webcam and started streaming 🔥🔥 she never got rid of either of them its part of her odd loser charm

“‘fartmaster69:it’s probably cuz your camera’ it’s probably bc of YOUR CAMERA!!! theres nothing wrong w my camera bro 😞”

“don’t listen to them…ur perfect 🤫 IM NOT TALKING TO U GUYS IM TALKING TO MY CAMERA”

- only had a few viewers the first couple times she streamed, and it was some random 10 yr old who kept spamming “yassss” in the chat and some dude who said she was shit at minecraft 😞 he was LYING

- started off doing minecraft speed runs (or trying to) and got like way good over time

- she randomly started getting more and more viewers, because people kept posting abt her and calling her fine on tiktok , making edits of her hands and her voice 😭😭 (real)

- as she got more and more viewers, she started branching out more with the games she’d play. def loves shooter games like cod and pubg, but she’d also play like indie horror games like faith (omg markiplier fans would know)

- she has a orange cat she named garfield (cuz…of course she does) and he’s always sitting on her lap during her streams or messing w her setup 💔💔

- def put stickers all over her headset and showed them off all proud on stream

- designed her own cute banners and stuff for streams 😞!!!

- def had a subreddit/disc server with her viewers where she’d let them give her game recs or make memes of her

- ppl saw her guitar in the back of her streams and BEGGED HER to play it and she had her own lil concert stream !!! she was so freaking nervous and messed up a bunch the first like minute or two but like after that she was in the ZONE

“‘ewswife: i wish i was that guitar’ oh!! you guys are so…kind!!!”

- when she INSANELY hit 1k, she did a face reveal and she hit 10k the same day 😦 the amount of edits that ppl made was actually insane. ESP ONES MAKING FUN OF DREAMS FACE REVEALLLL

- started doing much more random shit on stream after she got more famous. she LOVES cooking on stream, and she’d start reacting to random shit ppl sent her on the subreddit

- she cut her hair on stream once, and everyone in the chat kept spamming “yo bob…is fye” for like 5 minutes 😪

- “you’re at work watching me? i hope you get fired. i mean. i hope you don’t get fired 😞”

- she gets so many thirst comments and like…is terrible at responding to them

“‘ewleftbicep: you look so vulnerable today’ WHAT”

- she has her own apartment cuz of her awesome streaming money 🔥🔥🔥 soundproofed walls too cuz she’s. loud.

- one day, you were walking on campus to a class. you had your headphones on, listening to your main playlist on shuffle, when you got stopped by someone. you pulled your headphones off your ears and gave the man in front of you a confused look. you looked down to his hands, holding a tiny mic, and another dude holding a camera.

“what song are you listening to?” he held the microphone towards you, awaiting your response.

you quickly responded “uhm, last goodbye, by jeff buckley.” and stood there awkwardly, pushing a piece of hair out of your face.

the man quickly thanked you and you walked away, slightly suprised.

- after a couple hours, the video had blown up and the comments were filled with people complimenting you.

pickleluna: jeff buckley girl is so fine

minyonlala: 3rd girl is so bad

rilakkila: I NEED JEFF BUCKLEY GIRL

and unknown to you, someone else found you on their fyp.

creeperewman: guys what is the 3rd girls @. im literally BEGGING BRO PLEASEEE

- ewleftbicep: BEING DESPERATE ON MAIN IS CRAZY

- ewsgirlf: random tiktok girl stole my wife 💔

- elliewilliamsidechick: guys im literally the 3rd girl 😂😂😂

- it didn’t take long for your phone to be blown up with people sending you the video, tagging you in funny comments, and finding your instagram. you watched the video, and saw ellie was the top comment. you checked her profile, and saw how FINE she was, and immediately responded

- y/nmainn: guys 😳😳😳 what if i was the third girl 😳😳

- ellie checked her phone and saw thousands of people tagging your comment, and she wasted zero time following you on tiktok. and your instagram. its not stalking if its in your bio, right?

- you two immediately hit it off, and ellie loved the fact that you had absolutely no idea who she was. to you, she was just some hot girl. not some famous streamer you were obsessed with.

- she didn’t even realize you two went to the same school until she saw you in her astrophysics class one day, and she almost had a heart attack when you waved at her and walked over to sit next to her.

“what a coincidence.”

- she took you out on your first date to a planetarium, and not even a week after, asked you to be her girlfriend.

- she definitely teaches you how to play her favorite games. but she gets wayyyy defensive when you beat her.

“im just letting you win.”

“beginners luck.”

but shes SO COCKY when she beats you

“hey, don’t be so hard on yourself after this. not your fault im a professional!”

“aw, maybe one day you’ll be as good as me”

- definitely helps you build your own pc.

- loves watching you play things like animal crossing or stardew valley, always lays on your shoulder while you’re on the couch.

“why are you being so mean to gaston :((“

“because hes UGLY and he has an ugly house and he’s ruining my village.”

“wowww you’re bullying a little bunny man because he doesn’t fit your aesthetic 😒 so mean”

- if you like more aggressive games like cod, she loves listening to you talk shit while you play and always makes fun of people with you. (she thinks its hot when you’re mean to people)

- her chat absolutely loves you, and every time you stream together its a continuous stream of “me and who” and “when is it my turn 😪”

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wynnyfryd · 8 months

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Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler

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sweetiecutie · 9 months

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AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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not a thing l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part i

summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!

“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.

You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.

Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.

Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.

Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.

After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.

“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”

“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”

“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”

He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”

“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”

“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”

She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”

The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”

She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.

He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”

“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”

Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.

“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”

You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.

She was too fucking quick for her own good.

Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”

“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”

Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”

She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”

He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”

“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”

“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.

“Jacket,” You reminded her.

“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”

You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”

“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”

You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”

“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”

“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”

“You need sleep—”

“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”

Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.

“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”

Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”

“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.

An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.

He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?

Ellie was sorely mistaken.

Joel only kept you around for his benefit.

And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.

Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.

Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.

Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.

But he hadn’t gotten a choice.

It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.

That was it.

A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.

“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”

“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”

You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”

Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”

“Joel—”

“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.

“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.

Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.

Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”

“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”

You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”

“Fuckin’ spit it out.”

So you do.

“Ellie knows, Joel.”

“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”

“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.

“She saw us?”

“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”

Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”

“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”

You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.

“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”

Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”

“But Joel—”

“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”

Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”

The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.

Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.

He couldn’t even fucking look at you.

Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.

“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”

“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”

Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.

“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”

“Ellie,” he warned.

It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”

Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”

“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”

“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”

“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”

Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”

“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”

Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.

That Joel didn’t know he needed.

“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”

“Listen here you little shit—”

She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”

Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.

“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”

Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.

“No!”

“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”

“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”

Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.

“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.

“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.

Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”

Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.

But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.

“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”

Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller hbo #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n

4K notes · View notes

1427 · 3 months

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would you? (pt. 2)

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your mom died when you were 15, your Aunt Lucille was given custody even though she was battling cancer. When the world gets upended and Lucille dies, Negan is all you have, but he isn’t cut out to be a parent. When he becomes the leader of the Saviors and takes residence in the Sanctuary he’s almost a stranger. No one wants anything to do with you because you’re Negan’s “daughter”. So when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.

Setting: Height of the Saviors era Sanctuary, Negan’s bedroom.

Warnings: SMUT, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is early/mid 40’s), virgin!reader, manipulation, guardian!negan (technically it’s Uncle!Negan and it IS mentioned explicitly), oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, stocking!kink, innocence/corruption!kink, reader is described several times as a doll/toy, read at your own risk ok

Word count: 3.3k

A/n: uhm, my heart was racing the entire time I was writing this please read at your own risk fr

// Part 1 //

masterlist

18+ mdni

I was just bending over to grab my pencil, coach.

For a while, you don’t bring up what happened that night. Going to lunch like everything’s normal. Negan is even more disturbed by this than he was by your innocent flirting. You don’t bring it up, but you’re different. Reminding him of some of his former students. The girls with obvious crushes - ones they were trying to hide but actively weren’t. They’d do things that could easily be explained away.

Sorry, I only packed these shorts today. I didn’t realize they were against dress code.

It was easy to not look then, to hardly be affected by silly teenage girls who had no idea what they were doing. He could go to the teachers lounge and flirt with the TA’s if he was really looking for someone younger. But younger isn’t necessarily what Negan liked. ‘Innocent’ wasn’t something he thought he could get into. But with you? He had all control, every single aspect of your life was in his hands - and he knows he fucked up. He knows he fucked you up… but he’d gone and fucked himself up too. Finding himself wanting to teach you everything. So caught up in the knowledge of how bad you want him makes him feel like a king - moreso than any amount of wives. You only wanted him. You only knew him.

Oblivious to Negan’s dirty secret and because he’d threatened to stop seeing you if you continued this flirting behavior you stick with subtle stuff. Wearing even lower cut shirts, mini-skirts and stockings. And sure, the stockings had holes in them. But Negan liked that even more than if they hadn’t. It let him imagine you weren’t this pristine untouched thing. He wasn’t sure which was worse; fantasizing about you as this perfect little doll that’s never been held by anyone, that doesn’t know anything about a man’s body or as this thing he’d corrupted. Giving you romance novels? What an amateur mistake on a colossal scale.

When you started wearing skirts he could smell you. Your wet cunt, sweet and unmistakable, every single time you walked into his bedroom for lunch. He tries to ignore it, tells the kitchen to make more pungent food, wears cologne, but it doesn’t matter - he could pick your scent out of a line-up of the undead, having had weeks to memorize it.

Negan’s cologne only makes you more wet for him. You can barely make it through lunch anymore. Trying your best to keep up with the conversation that you’re almost positive he’s phoning in as well, but it’s not easy when all you can think about is him stuffing you full on the bed that sits a dozen feet away. You’re desperate to make a move and terrified that any move you make will disrupt everything.

You scour your books for some kind of clue on what to do next, how to make it impossible for him to say no - but there’s no obvious answer. With no experience to tell you that Negan was losing his goddamn mind waiting for you to make a move or proposition so that he could oblige it.

He gets sick of waiting. Sick of drinking down his disgust with himself. It only makes the fantasies more vivid. Almost tangible and right there. All he really had to do? Touch you. And he knows it.

He’d stopped getting you gifts and novels after that night, but today? Today he had something real fuckin’ special.

You’re sitting across from him eating… only desserts? Weird choice, but still delicious. “What’s the occasion?” You ask, taking a bite of the strawberry shortcake set out in front of you.

“Do I need a special occasion to treat my favorite girl?” He says it so casually, but he’s never said anything like that to you before.

“Okay,” you breathe out a chuckle, “who are you and what have you done with my uncle?”

“Woah now, ‘Uncle’?” The title made him visibly uncomfortable, but not because he didn’t like it. He was too far gone with you, and now anything that made it more taboo just spurred his hunger further.

You breathe in deeply, as if you’d just confessed to something. Simply put, you had. He knows how bad you want it. He can smell it on you, and you didn’t care he was your family. Not even just your almost supposed ‘guardian’, no. You saw him as your uncle and you still wanted it. Bad. “Yeah, you are my uncle, aren’t you?”

“That makes you my niece.” He says it like it’s news. Not understanding that he’s trying to gauge your reaction.

For some reason, it makes your heart pound. Your ears get hot, and that same smile you’d tried to will away that night he’d forced a confession out of you (in the form of a moan at his touch) blossoms on your face. Pink cheeked and starry eyed, “It does,” you nod, you really don’t know any better, “Anyway, what’s all this about?”

Negan scrambles for an answer that isn’t the one he can’t say out loud, “Missed your birthday, wanted to… make it up to you.” His voice is low, droning, and it makes you shift in your seat, crossing your legs. Negan notices and smirks at your body giving you away. You’re so easy.

“Oh… thanks.” You take another bite of the shortcake before moving your fork to his plate to take a bite of chocolate cake. He lets you, he’s been letting you get away with so much more disrespect than he’d ever allow from anyone else. Telling himself that no teenager shouldn’t be getting away with little stuff like that, but really it’s because he likes it. He wishes you would take more control, and just ask him already. He’d wished for weeks that you would press yourself up against him like you had before he’d made you aware of your own feelings for him. And he hates that he told you that you weren’t allowed. That it was wrong. Because it is, but he doesn’t care anymore.

He’s sick of waiting for you to understand how to make a move, “I got you a little something too.”

It’s almost unbelievable that he’d gotten this for you. One of the saviors had tried to smuggle it to keep for himself, and once Negan saw it… he couldn’t think of something better for you. “Now close your eyes,” he purrs.

You slam your eyes shut and put out your hands eager to receive another gift. Feeling a hard plastic case being slipped into your fingers, “Now open them.”

It was a… you had no idea. Looking up at him in confusion you’re met with a look of complete and total satisfaction from Negan. Smiling wide at your reaction. “What is it?” You whisper, smiling back.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll show you.” And he winks. He fucking winks. You’re a mess. You’re putty. You have no idea what this little pink egg shaped thing is, enclosed in the plastic balanced in your hands, but you know it’s something… different. He can tell you still have no clue what it is, what it’s for, but he sits and waits for your thanks.

You can feel it, your legs tremble as you’re about to stand up but you stop yourself. You’re not supposed to flirt with him. And he told you that that’s what hugging him is. At least when you do it. You look to him, chewing on your lip, you want to feel him pressed against you so bad it’s making your knee bounce in anxious anticipation. You think about the fact that if you were hugging him you’d be able to smell his cologne even stronger, maybe you could even get away with kissing him on the cheek. After all, you could just blame it on the gift again.

He’s just sitting there, leaned back in his chair, staring toward the window. It would be so easy to just… you get up and crash down into his lap. Draping your arms around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck like you always do. This time is different, like everything else has been different since that night. You can’t will yourself to move. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze travels upward. All you can see is his neck, his chin still pointed away like he’s trying to hold himself together. You feel a guilt creeping into your periphery but it’s drowned out by the heat between your legs. Without even realizing you’re doing it, you plant your lips on his neck.

He’s quick to react, his hand coming to grip your thigh just as instinctually as you had kissed him. Negan is sick of waiting, he was not built for this. “Do you want me to show you how to use your gift?”

You’re melting, all your senses dizzy with his hand so firmly on your leg. Feeling his calloused palm through the tears in your stockings, your skin prickles. He puts his one arm underneath your legs and the other under your arms and picks you up, placing you gently back down in his chair. The suspense courses through you, tightening and moving to your limbs. The personification and embodiment of an exclamation point, you’re trembling as he stalks around the room. Taking the still unopened gift off of the table, you hear the click of the knife from behind you as he paces. He’s cutting into it as he leans down and breathes in your ear, “If you want me to stop, you tell me to stop, okay?”

You nod in response, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. He keeps talking, walking around to face you again as he gets the small mysterious device free from its packaging. “I fucked up with you,” you can tell he’s going to start monologuing like he always does, building up the anticipation you already can’t take. Your hands pulling at the hem of your skirt because you don’t know what else to do with them. “I want you to know that I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve really really fucked up your pretty little head.” As he speaks he moves back around behind you. Cheeks flushing at the compliment. He’d called you pretty.

“But don’t worry, kid,” his voice in your ear feels like his stubble beneath your lips that you’ve imagined so many times, “I’m gonna fix you right up.”

His hand glides down your chest from above you and your body dramatically arches into his touch. Shivering as he moves his way down to one leg, pulling on your stocking to maneuver the limb onto the arm-rest. He does the same with the other, as if you’re some doll he’s positioning. You’re putty, not a single ounce of resistance inside of you. He moves his hand to lift up your skirt, letting it fall to your stomach. Unable to look at yourself in such a provocative position you close your eyes.

“Holy shit, girl.” Negan’s smile devours him as he takes it all in. You’re not wearing underwear underneath your stockings, something he was absolutely not expecting. Your pretty pussy all smashed up against the mesh, your juices seeping through. In the light it almost sparkles. He’s never seen a damn thing like it. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and you were a shaking mess in his chair. Waiting so patiently for him to fix you.

He had planned on putting the little vibrator against the fabric of your panties and stockings, and while he still could… he can’t stop himself from putting his warm hand between your legs instead. He doesn’t want to stop himself, he wasn’t built for that. Fuck the piece of shit vibrator and fuck all of his stupid fucking plans to take this slow. No, he knows what you really need. Him.

His big hand comes to rest on top of your mound, pressing his fingers flat against the wet fabric of your stockings hard. The pressure.. the warmth.. your hands immediately shoot up from your sides grabbing his forearm as you gasp at the feeling. Pulling yourself even more flush against him, any piece of him you can get.

You’re shaking, Negan can’t think straight. All plans out the window, that smell, he needs to taste you. He rubs his whole hand, all four warm fingers, against the sopping fabric in circles for only a few seconds before bringing his hand up to his nose and taking a deep breath in of your scent. (He won’t lick you from his fingers, that’s somehow beneath him.)

You whimper under his touch and whine when he pulls away, but you don’t move other than to put your arms flat against the armrests of the chair. He was going to fix you, right? So you submit, not really even understanding how to react to any of this.

His dick is so hard against the fabric of his pants that it hurts. He tries to readjust, but it only makes him groan. Your neck cranes at the noise, but before you can get a look he’s in front of you, pulling up on the mesh directly above your heat, taking the knife he’d still been holding and cutting into it. The sound of the stockings tearing only makes Negan’s dick harder, revealing your glistening cunt like unwrapping a fucking present. Just for him, all for him. He did this… all of it.

He rips the fabric more before pulling your hips closer to the edge of the chair and kneeling down on one knee. His face buries against you with a haste you weren’t expecting, your body shooting up at the feeling. So sharp and too much, you squirm against his tongue but he keeps you still. Growling into your cunt, “I said I’m going to take care of you, doll, so you have to let me. Stop. Moving. Just…” his tone softens, and he kisses you sweetly on your hood, “relax.”

Negan dives back in more gently this time, taking in the taste of you slowly. Drinking from you, he’s never tasted anything so sweet. So pristine. His tongue swathing in large laps against your lips, you’re trying your best to relax but your orgasm builds faster than you can tolerate. It felt like fucking magic, filling you with stars that buzzed all the colors of the rainbow. He flicks his tongue between your folds, directly onto that spot and your orgasm shoots through you like a bullet. From your core to the top of your head, no orgasm you’d ever had had felt like that. It left you wanting, it wasn’t enough. Your walls pulsate, gushing thick white perfect ecstasy into Negan’s mouth. He snickers against you, his nose resting gently on your still quivering clit.

He doesn’t want to wait - picking you up like you weigh absolutely nothing, bringing you and your dizzy head to lay gently on his satin sheets. Bliss; and yet, you yearned.

Inside.

Your whole body shouting, the personification and embodiment of a fucking exclamation point. His belt clacks against your sensitive folds as he races to get himself inside.

And then, all of a sudden and just like that - you’re whole. His lips smashing into yours in a desperate need to claim every part of you.

When he’d imagined it in his head you were naked, all skin and blush and like sweet honey coating his senses. It was all different, but he didn’t mind you like this. Clothing soaked with sweat and your own sweet nectar; he felt like he was in high school and he’s taking your virginity underneath the bleachers. All limbs and throbbing need and no time, no breath to waste.

He kisses you deep and rough until you can’t breathe and you pull away, still adjusting to his size which you imagine is large from the discomfort inside of you, snaring itself into your vision like white flashes of electricity.

His first few labored thrusts hurt like you imagined it would, though it’s not like anything you’ve felt before. The burn of your walls stretching over him makes your breath hitch sharply in your throat, “That’s a good girl,” he purrs in your ear as he pulls out and slams into you harder. Tears sting your eyes as you nod into his shoulder, silently willing him to keep going. Don’t stop. He couldn’t stop even if you’d asked him too, your pussy is too wet, too hungry and swallowing him whole. He knows what you need, he can tell, even if you couldn’t. You need this.

Negan is seeing fucking stars, your hole stretching so perfectly around him like it never needed anything more, “Fu-uck,” he’s not going to last 5 minutes. He leans back, taking your hips and pulling them off of the bed to stay attached to his while he fucks you like that. Your shoulders still down against the bed, you’d never read about a position like this and it hurts but you like it. Your eyes traveling down his body as he buries himself slowly into you. All the way to the hilt, and that’s when you see it.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, causing him to look down and see what was going on but he had already pulled back.

“Hm?” His tone is amused.

“Do it again,” you whine. He smirks a brilliant flash of white teeth, before his face completely falters at the sight when he presses himself all the way into you again. Both of your eyes wide as the outline of his cock protrudes from your belly.

“Jesus,” his voice is loud, it seems to vibrate your brain against your skull. He draws himself out of you and shoves back in - more unceremoniously than previous. He’d been trying his best to not hurt you, to take it as slow as he could manage; but seeing his hard length poke out of your body was too divine, way too fucking hot for him to not lose any semblance of control he’d had.

Negan drowns you out, your loud screams, your hands clawing at his forearms, as he rails into you. Eyes fixed on your stomach as he watches; he doesn’t even realize you’re cumming until your hips shake violently in his grip. Your walls clench so tight his cock is pushed out. Negan clicks his tongue, as if you’d done something wrong. Moving himself in position back on top of you, his elbows coming to rest above your shoulders, his whole being swallowing you up. Your arms and legs wrap around him to try and still your shaking body as he ruts up and into you like a wild animal, his breathing jagged, his movements much less languid. Rough and desperate and all consuming.

Using your body like a toy to get himself off, he’s hardly paying attention anymore. Grunting curses that you’re trying to memorize through a hazy veil of satisfaction.

He’s. Falling. Apart.

And it’s wet and hot and so deep inside you that you can feel it in your fucking throat. You scream, loud, as he empties himself inside you.

Quickly, too quickly, he pulls himself out. He wants to watch his seed spill out and onto the gray sheets. You’d said you fucking sucked at painting, but Negan thinks this is the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever fucking seen. His cum dripping out of your freshly and newly used pussy in soft glistening strings to pool underneath of you, the white in stark contrast to the dark fabric is something real fuckin’ special.

He’s smiling, kneeling above you with his hands on your stockinged knees as he watches between your legs. You’re in another world, on another planet and lost in your senses. It was everything you’d dreamed it’d be. Heaven.

Negan had every intention on this being a one time thing. After all, hysteria was curable - but as he lays back on the bed to catch his breath he’s already caught dreaming about you in every position, any way he can place you. His perfect little toy, all just for him. Only his.

#negan x reader #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan smith #negan smut #negan x you #negan the walking dead #negan twd #jeffery dean morgan #jdm

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worldlxvlys · 3 months

Note

OMG PART 2 of “one of the girls” PLS OMG maybe a more angsty to fluff between them

deeper (one of the girls pt 2)

fwb! chris x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

a/n: you definitely asked for angst and fluff and i definitely only gave you angst

sorry 😬

but i swear on everything the next part will be fluffy, i just needed to lay the groundwork 🙏🏾

previous part

“look, it’s fine chris. you’re just shitty at aftercare.” she spoke from her spot across from me on her bed.

we somehow had managed to go from talking about how our days went to sex.

“what are you talking about?” i asked, confused.

“i mean, in what world is you fucking me and dipping to go fuck someone else considered taking care of me?” she pointed out.

my face dropped at her words, “i- i don’t do that every time though, it’s happened a few times, but-“ she cut me off with a scoff, “that’s the thing, you do it every time, without fail. you just- you finish, you make sure i finish, and you leave” she shrugged it off, but it obviously hurt her to say.

“i mean, what kind of a friend treats someone that way? it’s like, hey ok! i finished using you for what i needed, gotta go do the exact same thing to the next girl! you don’t see how fucked that is? you don’t get how that would completely fuck with my head ?” she asked.

“i mean at first, it wasn’t like that. i didn’t care, i thought maybe you’d stop at some point. but after months of you doing this shit, i can’t act like it doesn’t affect me anymore”

i blinked at her, only now realizing what i was doing to her.

“and it’s not like i caught feelings and am in love with you or something, you can be with other people, i don’t care. but- i mean, right after me? the second your dick gets soft you go somewhere else to get hard again? like, am i that bad, or…?”

no, no, no. there’s no way this is happening right now.

there’s no way i’ve managed to do this.

what the fuck was i thinking? what was wrong with me?

“hey, listen. this has nothing to do with you not being good enough, ok? i’m so sorry, i never meant to hurt you at all, i need you to know that. you deserve better than how i’ve treated you, i know. i guess i was just scared-”

“scared? scared of me?” she asked in a low voice, her face clearly showing how hurt she was.

my eyes widened at that, how the hell am i managing to make this worse?

“what?” i asked, desperately trying to think of how to calm her down.

“is this about the whole liking pain while we’re having sex thing? because if you can’t handle that-” i brought my hand up to her face to cup her cheek, making her stop talking and stare at me with wide eyes.

“it’s not that, ok? i told you i’d never judge you for that and i meant it. there’s nothing wrong with liking that stuff, i personally find it makes you even more attractive”

“so, if not that, then what? what are you running from?” she whispered to me.

my feelings for you.

the second i realized that i was beginning to care about her in a different way, i started seeing other people.

i tried desperately to distract myself from her, praying that being with someone else would help.

the first time, it worked. until the next time we had sex, and i remembered everything that i loved about her.

i was overwhelmed by her, everything about her drove me crazy.

her body, her soft skin, her scent, the way she tasted, the way she moaned and screamed under me.

my senses were filled with her.

i assumed it was just physical attraction, which is why i tried looking for someone who could replace that.

but who was i kidding? no one could replace her.

and even if they could, i realized that it was deeper than the sex as i was staring at her now.

it was that beautiful smile that i was missing now while i stared at the sad look that i put on her face.

it was that look she had on her face when she wanted to laugh, but was trying desperately to hold it in as i made faces at her from across the room.

it was the amount of passion and dedication she put into the things she cared at about.

it was the deep connection that we shared when i stared into her eyes, my fear of intimacy somehow leaving my body when it was with her.

it was her.

it was always her.

and me? i was royally fucked.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

not too much on chris he’s about to eat in the next part (literally)

i may or may not have already written the next part to this 🌚

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

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tsimvkas · 4 months

Text

you deserve better — mason mount.

A/N: hiii 👋🏻 so this one is specially to my love @raremasey, thank you for trusting me with your brilliant idea and for being soooo patient with me and my slow ass, im not sure if the angst is angsting but i hope you like it 💞

word count: 8.3k | masterlist

content: depressed!mase, mental health issues, miscommunication, angst & fluffy end

“You’re breaking up with me?” you asked, confused.

You had just returned from the grocery shop when Mason told you he wanted to talk. You were surprised he was awake, lately your boyfriend was often so tired he would come back from training and sleep until he had to leave again, so you should’ve assumed that what was coming wasn’t good.

“It’s not like this” he muttered. “I just want us to take a break”

You laughed sarcastically, not knowing how to deal with what you were feeling.

“A break? Wow. What the fuck do you mean, Mason?”

“This is for the best, Y/N” Mason sighed, looking tired. “I want the best for you”

“For the best? Oh my God, I just moved in with you. I left everything behind. I have no friends here, I have no job. I followed you because Manchester was what you needed, and you’re asking me for a break?” you laughed again, trying to hold the tears.

After two years dating Mason, seeing the man you love in the verge of tears asking you for a break was the last thing you expected to see when you just moved together.

“You don’t get it” he rested his face on his hands, breathing deeply. He knows you wouldn't understand — you’re not inside his messy mind. But he wished you could at least believe he would always do what’s best for you, and right now he’s not. Right now, he’s the worst person you could have by your side.

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get why the man I love is standing in front of me telling me he doesn’t want me anymore” you felt a single hot tear spilling down your face and cleaned it aggressively. “That I’m not the woman he loves anymore”

“It’s not like that, Y/N! Please… of course I still want you, and that’s why I’m doing this. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to explain”

You frowned, not believing that he was telling you he loves you while breaking up with you. You felt pathetic.

“There’s no need. I’ll just need a few days so I can get my things” you kept holding your tears, trying to show you had everything handled.

Mason’s face dropped, and even though you didn’t notice, his hands were shaking.

“You don’t- you can stay here. I wouldn’t ask you to leave, you moved with me. This house is yours too” he tried to change your mind and you laughed sarcastically at his words.

“This house is anything but mine”

“You don’t need to spend money moving somewhere else, please, stay”

“What the hell, Mason? Do you want me to move to the guest room? Want me to be your distant cousin when you start bringing girls here?” you exploded, screaming and pointing him a finger.

“I would never” he shook his head. “I would never bring anyone here”

“Right, so you want me to stay here to hear when you come back drunk after you fucked them somewhere else”

“Y/N, this is not-”

“I’ll accept your offer whilst I see how I’ll move back to London” you interrupted him, wanting to get out of his view quickly. “Goodnight, Mason”

—

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you crying, so as soon as you grabbed most of your stuff in his bedroom you locked yourself in the guest room and finally let your emotions take control.

What the hell has just happened?

Why did the guy you felt was your soulmate just broke up with you after two years of promising you the world?

It felt like Mason had just realised what you’ve been fearing since you’ve met: you’re not enough for him. His lifestyle doesn’t match yours, the amount of money he has, the places he needs to be.

You’re just a girl from Portsmouth, whilst Mason it’s Portsmouth’s star.

Before you could notice, you were crying loudly, strong sobs cutting your breath.

Mason knocked on the door, trying to open before realising it was locked.

“Y/N- can we talk? Please, baby”

“Don’t call me baby” you screamed at the closed door, hugging your pillow tighter. “I can’t even ask you to go away because we’re in your fucking house, the least you can do is leave me alone”

Mason felt his heart aching. In his head, the spiral of thoughts made so much more sense, but from the moment he said them out loud he knew he fucked up.

But he also knows he couldn’t take it back. You deserve more than he’s capable of offering to you right now, and he knows he can’t keep dragging you down with him.

Giving you the space you needed, he walked to his room — yous room, and tried to sleep in his cold and empty bed, but the way you were crying kept stabbing his heart.

And even though he was aware that was his fault, the need to hold you and comfort you kept him awake.

—

When you woke up, Mason had already left for training, and you thanked the universe for that.

You walked to the kitchen, looking for ice to help you with your puffy eyes, and something light to eat. You were still feeling nauseous and too sad to eat a proper meal, so you grabbed a few grapes and a tiny bottle of juice.

After eating, you tried to go to Mason’s room to pick up any stuff you might have left there the night before, but the vision of his door made you feel like throwing up. How the fuck you were supposed to face this whilst living in the same house as him?

Why the fuck he would ask you that?

You realised that questioning the whole thing and trying to find answers in an empty house wouldn’t help you move out quicker, so you went back to the guest room and took a shower, trying to start a fresh new day.

With your fresh set of pyjamas and your laptop, you went downstairs to grab a bottle of your favourite cold tea and sat on the couch and started looking for ways to reorganise your life.

You looked for a few jobs, so you could move as soon as possible, and also took the time to search for a few universities. When you met Mason you had just finished high school and were enjoying life a bit before going for college since your job was nice and it gave you the chance to do a lot of things.

But then, he told you about moving, and none of you wanted to be far apart so you left everything behind and followed you.

Mason never made you feel bad about moving with him without having money to help. In fact, he’d always been supportive, encouraging you to stop looking for a job and getting in college instead.

Even now, he’s not even asking for you to leave his house, always acting like what is his, it’s yours too.

But if you never felt good living on his money, then now you feel even worse.

You want a new job, and you want to go to college. And you’ll do both.

—

It was a tough week.

You ignored Mason, Mason tried to give you privacy, you got mad at Mason for giving you privacy because it was like he was trapped in his own house and Mason had no idea how to fix what he just broke.

Between all of it, you were still looking for a job and applying to your favourite universities, cleaning the house when you could and cooking Mason’s meals.

Seeing that you were still making him breakfast and dinner every day made him feel even worse. Every time he was back from training, he entered his room wanting to cuddle and to let you comfort him, but then he was taken aback with the realisation of what he did.

To be fair, you know Mason tried to talk to you a few times, and even slept by your door one night since you wouldn’t unlock it when he was home.

But you were hurt. Really hurt. You know he’s been facing a hard time, but the fact he wanted a break from you made you insecure. It broke the blind trust you had in him.

It didn’t help that in the same week the tabloids instantly started talking about Mason and a mysterious girl, questioning if he was single or if he was cheating, and the fans started coming to your profiles, asking you about him.

It was such a coincidence the news talking about it in the same week he dumped you, that it was obvious for you that he was probably seen with someone else. With another girl.

So you drowned in study, only leaving your room to cook and to run outside for a few minutes, trying to focus on yourself and remain healthy even though your heart was falling apart.

During the day it was easier since you were alone at home. The nights were the worst.

Knowing he was there, but not with you. Not being able to talk with your favourite person, to hear about his day. Not being able to cuddle to sleep, to hold his face in your hands.

And knowing that he was the reason why you weren’t able to love on him.

By the second week, you were a wrecking mess.

Gossip pages kept talking about Mason and this girl, that you don’t know who it is. You only left your room when he was at training or at a game, locking the door when he was at home, and the only way you knew about him was through Man United’s social media.

On a particular night, you had cooked his dinner and headed to your room, taking a long shower and getting ready for bed. You had just chosen what you would watch when your phone started buzzing with a FaceTime call from Mason’s brother.

Sighing, you accepted the call and waited for him to talk.

“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry I’m calling you kinda late, but it’s everything okay?” Lewis’ concerned face filled the screen and you recognised his car. “Mason is not answering since this morning and I’m starting to worry, we’re getting there so I wanted to be sure he’s at home”

Lewis had no idea, but his words brought the worst kind of panic to your heart. You jumped out of the bed without even answering him and rushed outside, unlocking your door and running to the other side of the corridor before opening Mason’s room door to see that his bed was empty and messy.

Running downstairs with your heart in your mouth, you entered the living room in a rush, stopping suddenly when a group of men entered your view. Shaw, Rashford, Höjlund and McTominay were playing video games and eating snacks, but Mason was nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N? We woke you up?” Luke seemed surprised, instantly getting on his feet and approaching you. “Mase told us you were out this night, I’m sorry if we disturbed you”

When you didn’t answer, Rashford got on his feet too.

“You’re pale, Y/N. It’s everything alright? Do you need anything?”

You looked around, feeling lost in the place you used to call home, Lewis forgotten in your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Mason showed up coming from the kitchen and taking a few seconds to notice you were there. The sight of your confused face and the bags under your eyes made his heart hurt. He hadn’t seen you in so long… “Y/N-”

“Lewis is trying to talk to you” you murmured, giving a quick smile to his teammates before heading upstairs, back to your room.

When you finally closed the door, your entire body began to shake, your heart having difficulties to process that he was fine and nothing that you imagined had actually happened.

The anxiety and panic you’ve felt minutes before got the best of you and you try to make it to your bed, falling a few steps before reaching it.

“Hey” Lewis’ alarmed voice reminded you he was still in the call. “What’s wrong? You’re on the floor? Wait, why did you enter the guest room? Y/N, what’s happening? Jaz, can you take my phone and talk to her please”

You tried to answer him, but everything that left your lips were heavy sobs and grunts, your hips hurting from the fall. When Jaz’s face showed up, you felt the urge to let it all go like you’d with your sister — a sister you don’t have.

“Y/N you need to breathe. Breath with me” she tried to keep your attention on her while, noticing how uneven your breath was. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You shook your head, still feeling like you were choking on your tears. “I’m sorry. I thought ‘well, it must be bad if he’s not answering his own brother’, and then the possibilities terrified me”

“It’s okay, He’s okay, isn’t he?” Jaz calmed you, and you nodded. “Good. Now, keep breathing. What happened? Why does it seem like you’re having a panic attack?”

“I don’t know if I should talk about this with his sister, Jaz”

“Don’t be silly, I just wanna help you. I’m like your big sister too, aren’t I?”

“I miss you” you sighed, pouting like a kid.

“We’re almost there, my love. Do you think you can open the door for us?”

You tried to get on your feet and the pain was instant.

“I can’t, actually. My hip hurts”

“Hurts like you’ll need painkillers or like you can’t actually get up?” Lewis’ voice could be heard, and you attempted to get up.

“I don’t know” you whined. “Like I can’t get up, I think”

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Jaz asked, concerned, but you were quick to say no.

“No! No, his name will be everywhere tomorrow”

“He wouldn’t care if it’s for you, Y/N”

“Now he might, I don’t know”

“What do you mean?” Jaz frowned at you.

You figured out there was no need to hide from them, once they’d found out as soon as they saw Mason, so you shrugged.

“We broke up”

“What? Why?” she looked more confused that yourself that night.

“I don’t know. He asked for a break, but I don’t do breaks. Why would you need a break from someone you love? So you can be with someone else without feeling guilty? And then the tabloides…”

“Yeah, we saw it. That’s why we’re coming over, we we’re worried about how he’s dealing with it”

“I don’t think he’s too worried about it” you sighed, telling them the last few weeks and what just happened in the living room.

“And he hadn’t followed you to see how you are? What if we weren’t coming over, would you lay hurt on the floor forever?” you could hear Lewis’ voice, and your cheeks got red.

“I’ve been locking myself when he’s at home, so he hadn’t had the chance to talk to me even when he tried to”

“Y/N… communication is the key” Jaz told you.

“I know, but this is not the time to talk about it”

“Fine. We’re here” Lewis announced, turning off the engine.

—

“Lewis?” Mason opened the door, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Thankfully, the boys had already left and Mason was alone in the living room.

“Goodnight Mase. Can I talk with Y/N?”

“Oh, so” he scratched his neck, not ready to talk about it yet. “About this, there’s something I need to tell you”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll go to her room real quick, yeah?”

“She’s not in our room. And she doesn’t unlock the door when I’m home”

“She will unlock it for me, don’t worry” Lewis tapped his shoulder before heading to the guest room.

“Have you talked to her?” Mason frowned, following his brother. You could hear they talking and you hid your face with your arm so Mason couldn’t see you’ve been crying.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Lewis. Jaz is in the car, can I take you to her?”

You nodded, groaning when he lifted you up.

“What happened?” Mason asked, but no one answered him. “Y/N? Are you hurt?”

You could feel the desperation in his voice, but you had no strength to talk. Lewis put you in the car, where Jaz instantly hugged you, before going back inside to take your stuff.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mason asked, watching Lewis looking for something in his bedroom’s bathroom.

“Taking Y/N’s stuff, she’s going back to Portsmouth with me and Jaz”

After taking what he needed from Mason’s room, he went to the guest room to take only the essential things he thought you could need.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking her out of this house. I won’t let you treat her like that” Lewis kept talking with a firm tone whilst taking your skincare products and then looking for a few pieces of clothes. “She can stay at mum’s for a while”

Mason’s eyes widened. “No. No, you’re not” he tried to take your stuff from Lewis’ hands.

His brother gave him a look and Mason stopped immediately. He wanted Lewis to scream at him, and the fact he was talking low and contained was killing Mason.

“Try me, Mason Mount” Lewis whispered. “We all know you’re going through something, and you know how much I love you, but this is not an excuse. I thought you would ask her for help. Find comfort in her to get through this. But asking for a break? Going out and hooking up with other girls while she’s still living with you? Do you have any idea how she was when we found her?”

Mason stayed silent, so Lewis kept talking.

“Jaz wanted to call the ambulance, if this can make you understand why she’s coming with us”

Mason’s eyes watered and he wanted to explain better, tell his brother that he never hooked up with other girls and why he asked you for a time, but he should’ve done this days ago — Lewis wouldn’t hear him now. Neither would you.

“It’s not like that, Lewis, I never hooked up with anyone-“ he shook his head, but his brother headed to the door without paying attention.

Mason ran to block his way, receiving a flat look, and Lewis sighed. “You don’t have to make this more difficult than it already is, Mase. She’s coming with me”

“No!” Mason screamed at his face, and it was obvious how unbalanced the younger one was. “She’s not”

“Mason, I’m your brother and I will never let go of your hand, but you need to calm down and think about what you want. I‘ll call you tomorrow so we can talk, alright?” Lewis kissed Mason’s forehead and walked to his car with your bag.

Mason’s heart broke in a million pieces seeing you huddled in the back seat, Jaz’s body cuddling yours. His eyes watered when he called your name and you didn’t look at him, your shoulders shaking.

How the hell did he ruin his entire life in just two weeks?

When his brother started the car, Mason instantly picked up his phone and texted Luke.

—

The ride back to Portsmouth was long and you slept through most of it, not even realising when Jaz and Lewis switched places so he could rest too.

“Since it’s Friday night we’re all in our family’s house” Jaz told you as soon as she saw your eyes open. “Do you mind coming with us? I can book an hotel if it’s too much for you, being with his family”

“No, I’d love to spend some time with you all. You know how much I love your family, Jaz”

“We love you a lot, too. Especially Summer, but the whole family loves you” Jaz giggled, thinking about how happy Summer will get just by seeing you.

“The whole family but my boyfriend” you laughed,

“I’m sure we’ll understand what’s going on tomorrow, Y/N. Lewis will talk to him”

You shrugged, feeling too tired to debate. Jaz helped you settle in one of the guest rooms, and since it was in the middle of the night you didn’t see anyone.

By the morning, everybody was really happy to see you, and explaining the whole thing to Debbie was the worst part of it.

“I don’t know what’s happening with him” she told you with a sad tone. “I’m not trying to defend him, Y/N, please no. I’m just so worried. He doesn’t answer our calls anymore, barely answer our texts, doesn’t want to come visit”

“It’s just a hard time, Debbie. I know he misses you and his old life, he misses London and his friends. It’s been a rough time for him” you smiled softly. “I think he’s just feeling lost, and maybe I just didn’t made him feel settled there”

“Still, this is not an excuse to do what he did” Lewis interrupted, sitting on the other sofa. “If he’s lost, if he’s struggling, if he’s sad, he needs help. Pushing you aside it’s not the answer. No when you left your life for him. You lost things too”

“Lewis is right, you left everything behind. He is not obligated to stay with you just out of gratitude, but if he wanted to end things then he should’ve done it in a better way” Debbie nodded. “I think I should visit him so we can have a talk”

“I called him this morning” Lewis sighed. “I think he needs real help, mum. But we’ll help him, yeah?”

He kissed Debbie’s head, but Jaz frowned at him.

“What do you mean with real help?” she asked, sighing too when Lewis shrugged. “I think we shouldn’t have left him alone”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have, but he’s okay. Shaw talked to me about half an hour ago. Jaz, can we talk real quick?”

Once they left you alone with Debbie and Summer, you tried to play with the little one and give her attention. When she asked why you were there, you told her that uncle Mason and you had a little fight, but that everything was okay.

“Oh” Summer gasped. “This is why uncle Mase told me he was sad?”

You frowned, suddenly worried. Mason never let his nieces get in the middle of adult problems, so you pulled Summer closer and kissed her head.

“What do you mean, baby girl? What did Uncle Mase have told you?”

“That he was feeling really, really sad, and that he was hurt” she pouted, pointing to her forehead. “Here”

You tried to keep focused on her, but you could only think about Mason, your heart aching just from thinking about what ‘really, really sad” meant.

When the adults were back, Summer was practically sleeping so Lewis took her and left you and Jaz alone.

“I’ll have this conversation with you, because I see how bad you’re hurting and I care too much about you. But I’m not trying to say he’s not wrong, or that you should forgive him just because of his condition, this is not what I think at all and-”

“Jaz! Just say it” you interrupted her, your heart racing in your chest.

“We think Mase has been in a depressed state. Not depressive yet, but it won’t take long if nothing changes”

“Alright” you took a deep breath, already feeling guilty that his siblings stayed by your side and that the three of you left him alone at home. “What do we do now?”

“We?” Jaz asked. “Are you sure?”

“We know Mason, Jaz. Of course I’m hurt, especially by the fact he preferred asking for a break instead of asking for help, but I’m not letting him by himself when he needs me the most”

“There’s not much we can do” she sighed, and you imagined how hard it was probably being to his siblings, seeing their baby boy in a state like this. “Lewis talked to Shaw and they decided to take Mase to the club’s doctor. It’s a start, but Mason needs to want help for this to work”

You nodded, feeling overwhelmed by a feeling you couldn’t even explain. He’s facing a hard time - but he’s alive, and as long as he’s still here, he can face this.

And despite being worried about him, knowing that the way he acted wasn’t entirely his fault took the part of the weight out of your shoulder. Even though his actions were still hurting, the truth is that you’d always be patiently waiting for him to be better.

For him to come back.

Before you went to bed that night, your phone buzzed with a single text, your heart trying to jump out of your chest whilst your entire body ached with the urge of holding your boy again.

—

Two months later, you were still missing him like crazy.

You never answered that text, simply because you had nothing to say. It was a promise, and you were waiting for him to keep it.

Since you left Manchester, Lewis would send you a message every morning saying “Mase is asking about you, do I have permission to tell him anything?”, and the answer would always be “as long as you tell me how he is”.

Even though you were still feeling hurt, the answers always made you smile. “He started therapy today” and “he’s back at training” were the ones you loved the most to know. And, of course, the fact he asked about you every single day warmed your heart.

Lewis told you that the only reason why Mason hadn’t visited yet nor sent you any message was because he only wanted to talk with you when he was feeling more like himself again, and you respected it.

Of course you’d be there for him if he asked you, but deep down you wanted to see your Mason — not the one who asked you for a break.

So, since the day Jaz and Lewis brought you to Portsmouth you’ve been at Debbie’s house. She and Tony took care of you, giving you space every time you needed but also supporting you to go out a bit, study outside or even hang out with them. You also started a remote job, and it felt like the only thing left for you to be fully happy was for Mason to be good.

You discovered that the family used to reunite every weekend, so they could have lunch together — and, when Mason is playing, so they can watch him. By every weekend, you felt more part of the family, and the fear that maybe Mason meant it that night, that maybe he won’t want you around even when he feels better, started to grow inside you.

One of those weekends, almost four months that you left Manchester, Summer wanted to go to the park before lunch and most of the family followed her and Jaz. You stayed at home with Tony so you could keep an eye on a sleepy Mila, since Jaz didn’t want to wake her up.

You were in the living room, watching Mila’s peaceful sleep when someone knocked at the front door and Tony left the kitchen saying “I got this”. You chuckled at how cute and sweet he always is, but then found it weird when he didn't return with whoever was knocking, making your way to check if everything was alright.

“Dad, please. I just wanna talk with her” you stopped in your tracks, feeling goosebumps all over your body. There’s no way you could not know this voice.

“I don’t know if she wants the same, Mase. Let me check, alright? I’ll just ask real quick” Tony told him, and you appreciated that he thought about your well being. If you didn’t want to talk with Mason — which you do, it could turn into a mess if he let him enter without warming you.

“Tony, c’mon” Mason snorted, and you know he’s impatient. “That’s my girl. I just need to see her”

Tony stared at Mason for a few seconds and you bit a smile, quickly stepping into their vision field.

“It’s alright. Can you give us a moment?” you touched his shoulder, and the way Mason’s eyes shimmered when he saw you made your tummy flutter.

“Of course. Kid, you’re staying for lunch?”

“Yeah” he nodded, eyes not leaving you.

“So you better come help me when you finished your talk” Tony teased, kissing Mason’s head before heading to the kitchen.

There was a few seconds of silence before Mason shook his head.

“Sorry I didn’t text you, I was trying not to think about it so I wouldn’t give up. But I owe you an explanation” he bit his lower lip, and you could tell by his breath that he was trying not to cry. “Would you- could you listen? Even though this doesn’t change anything, I just need to know that you know what happened”

“C’mon, let’s go to the living room” you smiled, your heart pounding with the sad expression on his face, but then he smiled and followed you. “Why you’re not in Manchester right now? I thought you had a game tomorrow”

“I asked for a day, so I could come and talk to you” Mason shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big thing.

“Mason! You’re just back in the squad, you can’t ask for a day” you scolded, crossing your arms and turning back at him.

“It’s okay, I need a break and they’ll probably say I just have food poisoning or something like this. How do you know I’m back in the squad?” he smirked, sitting first so you could choose if you wanted to sit next to him or not.

You wish you were stronger, but you missed him so much that sitting across the room felt wrong, so you sat beside him.

“Knowing” you rolled your eyes. “So, what’s so important that you couldn’t wait?”

There were a few more seconds in silence, but it didn’t bother you. You know, from Lewis’ daily updates, how difficult it has been for Mason to get on track again, so you let him go at his own pace.

“You” he played with his fingers, trying to keep his hands to himself. “I couldn’t wait to see you. The idea that I’m losing you a little bit more everyday that you spend without an explanation is killing me. I know the blame is on me and I have no right to ask you anything, but here I am asking you to try to understand, because I miss you”

You felt your eyes watering, so you blinked away the tears.

“I miss you too, but..”

“Don’t say it” he interrupted you, shaking his head and looking away. You could tell when he was on the verge of tears, and the sudden change in his mood got you worried.

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know. If you don’t love me anymore, please don’t tell me” he pleaded, fingers fidgeting the hem of his shirt.

“Don’t be silly” you reached for his hand, intertwining your pinkies to distract him from whatever he was feeling. “I already understand what happened, yeah? I don’t blame you”

“You should” Mason shrugged.

“It’s just…” you ignored what he said. “I think it’s hard for me to just suddenly open my heart for you again? I know you were in a dark space and it wasn’t your fault and you didn’t mean to hurt me but it did. It hurt a lot”

Mason squeezed your hand and his shaky breath broke made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry”

“I know you are. Wanna tell me what happened? How were you feeling that night?”

It took him a few seconds to answer, but the silence wasn’t weird anymore. You’ve known each other for a while now, and even though the Mason you left weeks ago pushed you away, he doesn’t look like this one.

This one looks like your Mason.

“I don’t know how to describe it” he started. “But the last six months have been hard. First, I’m sorry I lied to you about this for four months, and I’m sorry I wasn’t being honest every time you asked me if I was good. I do trust you, and I know I should’ve told you, but I was scared”

You squeezed his hand to tell him it was okay without interrupting him, waiting for him to continue.

“It started with a few and normal insecurities, things everybody feels. ‘What if I’m not what the team is expecting, what if I fail here, what if I’m not good enough’. And then it escalated so fast. I started skipping meals because they didn’t look interesting, sleeping from the moment I got home to the moment I needed to leave for training, not actually wanting to talk with anyone. And I know you thought I was just tired and dealing with a lot, so please don’t feel guilty about it”

Too late, you thought. How haven’t you noticed that the man you love was struggling?

“The only thing that kept me going was you. You were the only person I still wanted to see, the only voice that wouldn’t annoy me. But soon I started thinking that if I really love you so much then I should let you go, because you were stuck with an unhappy man. A man that wasn’t taking you on date nights anymore, a man that wasn’t giving you attention. A man that wasn’t even making love with you”

“Lack of sex never bothered me” you murmured, incapable of keeping silent. Mason gave you a sad smile and nodded.

“I know. I know, because you never pushed me. And now I know that if you were so kind thinking I was stressed and busy with work, you would’ve helped me if I had just told you how I was feeling. But the only thing my mind could think is that you deserved better, Better than me” he started biting his nails, so you took his other hand in yours too. “But still I was so selfish that even though you deserved better, and wanted you around. I was so scared that you would actually find ‘the better’ as soon as you left our house. When Lewis took you, I don’t know. I think it was the worst day of my existence”

“He had good intentions”

“I’m glad he took you, now. I was so involved in my own misery that I couldn’t see how bad it was affecting you. He told me that that day Jaz almost called an ambulance because you were on the verge of a panic attack. I’m so sorry. Do you know I never hooked up with anyone, don’t you?”

You nodded, remembering that Lewis told you what happened. A female fan, a paparazzi. It was enough to build the narrative.

“It’s okay, Mase” you smiled, hurt more by the miscommunication than anything else.

“No, it’s not” he started playing with your fingers and you let him. “God, I should’ve told you. Asked you for help, reassurance, anything”

“A damaged brain doesn’t work properly, Mason. Stop blaming yourself for how you reacted. Yeah, it hurted me and of course in an ideal world you would ask for help and I’d help you, but it’s not how it happened so let’s not stick to the past, alright?” you told him with a gentle tone, stroking his hand with your thumb. “What has happened since Lewis brought me here?”

“I called Luke and told him everything. Like, everything. The dark thoughts and how I treated you and he refused to let me alone. I think he was afraid, so he picked me up and made me sleep at his house. Lewis called me by morning and we had a chat, but everything was so cloudy and I couldn’t make decisions. Anouska was the one who told Luke what to do, so he talked to Lewis himself, put me in the car and took me to the club’s therapist. I’ve been seeing him since”

Mason took a deep breath, and you could feel his hands shaking.

“I know I hurt you, and there’s not a single day from the past four months that I don’t feel like pushing my face for it, and I’m so sorry I made your days harder and sadder, and if I could I’d let you live your life away from me so you could be happy with someone who won’t hurt you, but I can’t. I can’t live without you and I just need one more chance so I can make it up to you” he finally looked at you again. “That’s what I’m here for. I want another chance, Y/N. In your own pace and you can decide everything, but please”

You observed his pinky cheeks and shy gaze, smiling when he looked away.

“Are you shy?” you teased, amused that you were still capable of making him feel like a teenager.

“Stop, this is already hard enough” he groaned, making you laugh.

“Sorry” you smiled. “I guess I can accept your offer. First date when?”

“Oh- uh- I was-” he stuttered, and you bit a smile. “Wanna go to my next game?”

“We’re starting over, aren’t we? You shouldn’t bring someone who’s not even your girlfriend to your game” you teased again, giggling when his cheeks got even more redder.

“But I want you to be my girlfriend” he pouted, and his sincerity made your entire body heat. He was still your precious boy, after all.

“You’ll need to win your position back” you shrugged, and Mason was still pouting. “So, first date first”

“Come back to Manchester” his pout grew bigger and you wanted to kiss him, but you held yourself back.

“Mase! I just said you’ll have to win your position back and you want me to live with you?” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.

“No! I’ll pay for your hotel” his cheeks were burning. “I just need you around. Plus, how am I supposed to take you on a date if you’re too far away from me?”

“Fair enough. I’ll think about it” you winked, but Mason knows you too well to find out the answer by your smile.

“Lunch is ready” Tony screamed from the kitchen and you got on your feet, still holding his hands.

“Come here” you asked him, smiling when he shyly got closer. “I’m really proud of you, Mason. Even though you needed help to get to a doctor, staying and getting better was your decision”

“Thank you”

“Now let’s eat” you kissed the bridge of his nose and led him to the kitchen, holding his hand.

Tony smiled when he saw Mason’s pinky face and your hands intertwined, but you appreciated his silence about it.

When you heard the unmistakable Summer’s voice screaming ‘that’s uncle Mase’s car’, you knew you were back at home again — or, at least, very, very close.

—

The damn hotel was booked the next morning. Mason spent the night at his parents’, but in a different room, saying that ‘you won’t sleep in the same bed as someone who’s not your boyfriend yet’ — and it was your turn to pout.

By the morning, you were coming back to Manchester with him. It felt weird at first, and leaving the comfort of his parents’ house where you know they’d take care of you was scary, but Mason proved you had nothing to be scared of.

He drove whilst you watched movies and played video games on his big television, telling him you liked his new car.

“Glad you liked it, we’ll use it a lot” was his answer, and something in his tone made you blush before getting back to play.

When he left you in your hotel, Mason warned you he needed to sleep and take care of a few things, but told you to be ready by 7pm.

Mason was punctual, waiting for you exactly at seven. He kissed your forehead, not before making you feel undressed by his gaze, and gave you his arm to hold.

The restaurant was really close so he asked you if you wanted to walk and you accepted. The weather was nice and you loved walking, taking advantage of the situation to press your body against Mason’s.

There wasn’t much to say, so the pair of you walked in silence just enjoying each other’s existence. When you got to the restaurant and the waiter guided you to the reservation, Mason was instantly shy.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him with a teasing smile, not used to how shy he was around you even after so long.

“What are we supposed to talk about? We already know each other” he bit his bottom lip, eyes dragging down your body again. “And your dress makes me nervous”

“Why are you so silly?’ you groaned, and it was your turn to blush. “You can tell me what I’ve lost the last couple of months”

“Fine. I’m back in the squad and they said I can start next week. I also have therapy once a week now and we’re trying natural medicine” he told you shyly, the pinky cheeks you love showing up. “He told me I was in a depressed state but he could help me, and he’s helping”

“This makes me incredibly happy, Mase” you squeezed his hand over the table, his face turning even more red. “I’m genuinely so proud of you, and I hope you know there’s no shame in asking for help and taking medicine. And even though he is indeed helping you, you’re doing the hard job”

“Thank you” he smiled, holding your hand. “Now your turn. What have I lost?”

“I’ve been studying a lot” you smiled, not knowing how to tell him the news. “And some universities kinda accepted me?”

“Really? This is amazing babe, you know I’ve always thought you were the most intelligent person I’ve ever met”

It was true, Mason always told you how intelligent you were, and even though receiving compliments made you really shy, you were blushing for another reason, the way the pet name slipped through his lips like he never stopped using them with you.

“Yeah, one in Manchester, two in London and another one in Barcelona”

“Great. You’re so fucking good, it’s insane how you always makes me proud. Are you going to one of them?” he praised you, making your face burn with shame — and something else.

“I want to, but I haven’t decided to which one yet”

You had, actually.

“As long as you choose the one you really wants, I’ll be happy for you” he raised an eyebrow, demonstrating that he meant it.

“Even though it’s far away from you?” you asked nervously and Mason instantly picked up on what you were thinking.

“Y/N, look at me” he asked you, only speaking again when your eyes were locked on his. “I lived four months of my life away from you and the worst wasn’t being away from you. It was knowing why we were far away from each other. As long as you’re mine, distance it’s just a detail”

You squeezed his hand over the table, trying to bite a smile. After dinner and a few conversations about everything and anything in particular, Mason paid the bill and asked you to take you home.

“Do you mean, to my hotel room?” you giggled, hugging his arm.

The walk back was light and you felt your chest warm, the happiness of having Mason back — but more important, the happiness of seeing that Mason also got his true self back, overwhelming you.

When the pair of you stopped in front of the hotel, you hugged Mason’s waist.

“Thank you. It was really nice”

“It was nice to me too” he kissed your forehead, smiling bigger when you raised your face to look him in the eyes. After a few seconds staring into them, Mason brushed his nose against yours. “Kissing on a first date it’s acceptable for you? I miss your kisses”

“You’re making things difficult for me, you know? I’m trying to make you wait” you giggled, your smile so wide it was hurting your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna wait” he whined before kissing your jaw. “But, I know I deserve to wait. So I see ya next week?”

“Wait” you pushed his jacket when he started to distance from your body, bringing him closer. “I kinda had a rough time before our date. Would you mind-”

“You’re inviting me over on our first date?” Mason teased, his hand now stroking your jaw.

“Mase” you groaned, making him giggle.

“Cuddles and ice cream?” he murmured, stroking your cheek and your eyes watered a bit to the fact he still knows what you like to do when you’re slightly upset.

“And you’ll have to watch This Is Us”

“Oh no” he groaned playfully, as if he wasn’t dying to have this exact type of night with you. “You can’t tell anyone if I cry”

“Deal” you smiled, guiding him to your room.

Of course he ordered a few ice cream flavours, not letting you pay for any, and tucked himself in bed with you, trying to find a comfortable and respectful position.

You’ve always loved being in Mason’s arms and he never failed to make you feel secure whilst he was holding you, and soon the pair of you were practically sleeping.

So after countless episodes and a sleepy Mason you turned off the television and searched for a more comfortable position, laying your head on his shoulder and crossing his body with your upper leg.

At that moment, it felt like nothing ever happened. That you were still the sweet couple that moved to Manchester chasing his dreams.

But something did happened, and the memory brought tears to your eyes. Since that day you’ve never cried to Mason anymore, and you miss the way he used to comfort you and tell you things would be fine. It was your safe space to show emotions, and now you’re slightly afraid of crying in his arms again.

“I’m so sorry” Mason whispered, anticipating what you were feeling and breaking the silence. When you started crying he kissed your head, hugging you tight.

Seeing you cry was always the hardest for him, and knowing damn well it was his fault only made it worse.

“I’m sorry too, for not being there for you. I’ve been thinking about it since Portsmouth and fuck, I feel so stupid. How the fuck I didn’t noticed” you tried to speak, choking on your words.

“No” he kissed your forehead one more time. “Absolutely not, this is not your fault. I was dumb, I didn’t ask for help, I pushed you away when all you did was love me. You shouldn’t feel guilty about how I dealt with it”

“How are you feeling now?” you murmured, running your fingers through his chest and trying to make the tears stop from falling. “You can be honest with me, you know”

Mason caressed your lower back, sighing and thinking for a moment.

“Happy, honestly. I’m happy, Y/N. I know I’ve fucked up with you and that we’re only here right now because you have the most generous heart, but I’m so happy that I’m here. I’m happy about the treatment, I’m happy at the club, and even though I don’t know how our future will be and if you’ll ever gonna be mine again, I’m happy that I got to hold you tonight”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, what happened hurt me a lot. But I’m also pretty good at understanding the other side, and I understand yours. I understand how scared you must’ve felt, how lost and confused” you kissed his chest over the fabric of his shirt. “There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t miss being your girl”

“I don’t wanna hurt you ever again”

“But you will. And I bet I’ll hurt you sometimes. Relationships are like this, baby, but as long as we didn’t mean it then we can always talk about it and get back on track”

“So this means we’re back?” Mason whispered, afraid he got it wrong and you were about to say no.

“If I say yes now then I’m really bad at making you wait” you giggled, kissing his shoulder. “Maybe in two more dates?”

Mason nodded, snuggling further into you.

“I missed this so much” he murmured, holding you so tight it was almost like you were the same person.

“Snuggling?” you changed your positions so he could lay on top of you and scratched his hair.

“Yes” he nodded again. “And you calling me baby”

You laughed, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I never wanted to stop, you know”

“I know. You’ll never have to stop ever again” he reassured you, his fingers stroking your waist.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be your baby forever” he kissed your neck, squeezing your body tighter and pulling his face away so he could look in your eyes. “But I said what I said, you deserve better”

You sighed, not wanting to debate this again

“Mase, don’t-”

“Shhh” he silenced you with a peck on your lips, making you smile. “So I’ll be better for you”

You stared at him for a few seconds, observing the silly smile he was giving you after stealing a kiss, the way his eyes were burning your skin and how closer to you he got by every second.

“I guess maybe that kiss doesn’t have to wait two more dates” you murmured, feeling genuinely happy when he instantly kissed you properly for the first time in so long.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount imagines #mason mount x y/n

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padawansuggest · 7 months

Text

Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.

Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.

Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.

A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.

They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.

A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!

A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.

I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.

Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.

Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.

There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!

The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.

On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.

Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.

Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…

Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #the Jedi

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wileys-russo · 5 months

Note

Ella toone, reader is a doctor or nurse in the hospital, assuring her that she won’t loose her finger after the darts game on national camp 😂 fluff

drama queen II e.toone

"is that ella?" you heard a scream in the distance and looked up from the stack of papers you were palming through with a frown. your coworker gave you a shrug, the question answered for you as esme barreled in a few seconds later.

"tooneys took her finger off with a dart!" the blonde breathed out shakily as your eyes widened. "she's what?" you exclaimed, grabbing the med bag and hurrying after her toward the rec room of base camp.

ellas cries of pain echoed after you as you and esme burst through the doors, a small crowd gathered around your girlfriend. "alright girls give me some room here please." you ordered gently as they parted and you dropped to your knees.

"what have you done this time el?" you sighed, a bloodied rag wrapped around her hand as she sobbed. "oh baby i've lost it! i've lost me finger! i'm only gonna have four now!" ella cried out choking back tears, head slumping to your shoulder.

"not helping!" you mouthed toward alessia and niamh who couldn't seem to help giggling at the girls expense. "fuck off the pair of ya! this is your fault charles!" ella sobbed angrily, good hand pointing at her threatningly.

"my fault! tooney its not my fault you decided to use your hand to block a perfectly good shot. what were you thinking? your hands not dart proof!" niamh scoffed as you gave both her and alessia a look, the taller blonde carting her off as ella huffed.

"did you try to use your hand as a dart board babe?" you teased, hoping to try and lighten the situation as a few of the older girls started to usher everyone away to give you and ella some space, most of them still hovering nearby in concern.

"no! god baby i've lost my finger! its gone!" ella cried out with a groan as you warned you were going to unwrap the rag from her hand. you sucked in air through your teeth seeing the amount of dried blood as ella covered her eyes with her spare hand.

"i can't look. is it bad? can ya sew it back on?" ella questioned anxiously. "i just need to wipe away the blood so i can get a better look love, this is gonna sting." you warned, mary dropping to her knees on ellas other side and nudging her to hold her hand.

"you sure maz? of all people we need your hands unbroken." you joked but there was a hint of seriousness in your tone carrying over the real warning, mary moving back as esme took her spot and ella clutched onto her hand, eyes squeezed shut.

"is it bad? baby i need updates!" ella fussed, groaning in pain as you gently started to wipe away the blood, the cut still oozing out fresh stuff as you went, squeezing her leg reassuringly.

"is it barely hanging on? will ya have to amputate? can ya play football with four fingers?" ella asked question after question, cursing in pain and trying to pull her hand back as you held on tightly.

"alright. give it to me straight baby, how bad?" ella let go of esmes hand to gently pat your cheek, eyes still squeezed shut as your own rolled. "this is gruesome babe, i think we'll need to amputate the whole hand." you sighed, mary smacked your shoulder gently as you looked up with a grin and ella shrieked.

"el you muppet i don't have to amputate anything, your finger is very much so still attached to your hand and staying that way." you chuckled before she could kick off, eyes glaring daggers at you as you smiled.

"look at it! thats not fine! its danglin!" ella huffed nodding furiously down at her hand. "you're very lucky you've missed the tendon and the nerves that would have been bad, but fingers just bleed a lot. the cut is about three and a half deep, i'll need to pop a few dissolvable stitches in and you'll be right as rain." you assured but it did nothing to stop her moaning about.

with a nod mary and esme helped her up as you all headed for the medics office where the rest of your supplies were, you quietly murmering to esme to go and let sarina know what happened as the blonde nodded and took off.

"el you will be fine my love, your finger is fine!" you smiled as she groaned out in pain again, taking a seat as mary sat beside her and you rummaged around in the first aid kit. "its not fine i almost lost it!" ella cried out with a huff as mary rubbed her back trying not to laugh.

"i know i know and you're being very brave." you cooed, sitting in front of her and softly grabbing her wrist. "careful!" ella shouted with another groan as you withheld the urge to roll your eyes at her dramatics.

"so did it drop off? is she gonna have four fingers now? i think you should keep it in a little jar tooney as a momento." alessia poked her head inside with a wolfish grin as you shot her a look and ella kicked off again.

"less be supportive or go away." you warned with a ghost of a smile as the tall blonde stood beside mary, opting to remain quiet. "gentle woman jesus!" ella hissed yanking her hand away.

"ella i haven't even started yet that was just me wiping away the dried blood." you sighed, motioning for her hand again as she mumbled something and curled into marys side, hiding her face in the keepers shoulder as alessia reached over and rubbed her back.

"now i'm starting and i need you to sit very still please baby." you warned rather firmly as ella nodded, face still hidden away in marys shoulder as she groaned out in pain every now and then.

"ella i said still!" you sighed impatiently as you started on the first stitch and she flinched, your grip on her tightening. "alessia talk to her please, take her mind off it." you requested as the blonde started to ramble some stories of her countless clumsy moments making ella laugh.

"okay. done!" you announced a couple of minutes later, gently wrapping a bandage tightly around her finger to stem the bleeding. "leave that on tonight and i'll re-dress it tomorrow morning." you ordered, ella sitting up with a nod.

"needs one more thing though baby." you quirked an eyebrow curiously as a smile graced the midfielders face and she held her hand out expectantly. "you're unbelievable sometimes toone." you sighed in amusement, gently kissing her bandaged finger.

"ya comin up baby?" ella asked, trailing behind once mary and alessia had stepped out. "in a bit, i've got a bit more paperwork to get ahead of love." you smiled apologetically as your girlfriend nodded.

"thank ya, my little nurse." ella grinned, leaning across your desk to kiss you sweetly. "anytime for my favourite patient." you chuckled and waved for her to go, really needing to make a dent into the files scattered in front of you.

"i'll be expectin some extra kisses tonight yanno, since i almost lost me finger today!" ella warned from the doorway as you smiled with a shake of your head, eyes focused on millies file you'd just flicked open as your girlfriend stepped out.

"oi less, niamhy! rematch?" your head snapped up at that as you hurried to the door, poking your head out and watching your girlfriends figure retreat back toward the rec room.

"ella ann toone no more darts!"

#woso #woso x reader #ella toone x reader #ella toone #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #engwnt

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simpjaes · 6 months

Note

mlt to be into messy sex like they get turned on the messier it gets eg. squirting, cumming on your face/other body parts

MTL: hyung line + messy sex/cum play

warning: messy stuff involving spit, cum, sweat, squirt (+implied piss), period sex

under the cut so people aren't forced to see details.

most

heeseung: you said messy and i'm writing this with purpose specifically but, squirting is his fave thing ever. every girl he gets on top if will squirt for him or he ain't calling them back. this does happen to involve a lot of water drinking before hand, and a very locked bathroom door lmao. that aside, i think heeseung would be really into cum play as well. coming in you, on your ass, thighs, legs, feet, tits, hands, and/or back. would also probably come all over himself if it comes down to it. Same for you, he's obsessed with your wet, and would probably try to drown in it if he could.

jay: (im insane for him rn pls look the other way) i imagine jay would be pretty into the messy blowjobs. i'm talking like, cum and saliva bubbling out of the corners of your mouth, tears running down your cheeks, etc. for him, there's something about being pussy drunk when his girl is cock drunk in turn, and it always leads to the messiest and best sex. The head you give is is loud, wet, lots of slurping sounds, lots of gagging. the head he gives is equally as loud, though he's probably moaning a lot through it too. i think he's the type that wants you to collect his cum on your tongue and let him watch you swallow it. also the type to fill your mouth full of his cum, tell you to hold it in without swallowing just to see it dribble out of the sides of your mouth. he thinks it's gross and disgusting, but entirely too hot that you do it for him.

sunghoon: hoon is probably super into coming on your face if it's not inside of you. not only bc he thinks you look hot like that, but because it genuinely just feels so fucking good to him for everything to be wet and messy, especially in the way you indulge him and thumb the mess into your mouth, proving that you like it just as messy. same goes for when he's fucking you too. i think he'd be into body fluids, and want them all over the place. squirting? man, he would be in heaven, especially if you let him open his own mouth at it. also probably really into spitting in your mouth but thats just me.

jake: messy with it without intention because he's always been that way. I mean, bro probably half-drained of cum before he even puts it in you due to the sheer amount of fucking pre-cum he gives. the type to be a huge fan of squirting as well, almost always abusing the fuckkkk out of your g-spot just so he can get you as messy as he always is. also the type to want to be fucking drenched in you and himself by the time it's all done. one hundred percent would probably be into period sex too. not necessarily anything involving his mouth but man, being covered in anything you offer is something that would drive him insane. anything sticky, anything thick, anything that helps the slide, really.

least:

#ask #hardthots #enhypen smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #jay smut #heeseung smut

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unholyhelbig · 6 months

Note

the oversight part 5? i love that series!

Title: The Oversight [Part 5/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7589

Warnings: Blood, guns, general violence, empty threats, angst, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: Listen, I straight up just finished watching 'The Iron Claw' and if you value your ability to hold it together, I suggest not seeing it. But also... go see it because it's phenomenal. Oh, and Happy Holidays!, like with most things, I regret my direction on this.]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Softly, you denied the small wooden bowl that was passed person to person, filled with numbers scribbled haplessly on strips of paper. There was a pit of guilt in your stomach for not bringing a white elephant gift- but as the honorary plus one of Darcy Lewis you succumbed to your fate. She’d drawn a middle grade number and sidled up next to you with her third vodka tonic.

You took a swallow of your own cranberry flavored drink, something that masked the sharp taste of alcohol. You were feeling fuzzy, but in the light way that would assure you’d get through the rest of party and the competitive game of gift swapping.

“Thanks for doing this,” Darcy said to you, nudging your shoulder “it was a little too fancy for my liking.”

She had stressed that she needed your presence to get through all the small talk about science. Darcy was an expert engineer but she could only go so far when it came to awkward co-workers murmuring amongst the twinkling Christmas lights and pre-paid meals. She got along well with most, but you could sense her anxiety well.

“Of course, you know I’d never turn down smoked salmon.”

Truthfully, it sounded a lot better than what your own work was planning. It took some quiet background checks and calling babysitting references, but you eventually conceded to a teenage girl that was certified in CPR and didn’t charge interest.

Your own holiday celebration at the Diner had been lackluster and consisted of much more alcohol. This was quiet and subdued, and a welcome break from the usual chaos that surrounded your life. You were more than happy to watch people tear paper from candles and blankets and ornaments.

“How much money do you want to put on Jimmy bringing some sort of magic kit?”

You hadn’t noticed the girl that hugged the side of the bar, waving down the bartender wordlessly. She was drinking something sweet and garnished with orange. She had a beautiful smile and the clearest eyes you had ever seen. Darcy smiled at her with familiarity and it eased you.

“I don’t bet on things I’m going to lose.” Darcy said with finality. “Y/n, this is Monica Rambeau.”

“It’s nice to meet you,”

Her grip was firm, and you squeezed her hand back with the same amount of pressure. Her smile widened at that before the bartender returned with a fresh drink garnished with another twirled orange peel. The two of you separated.

“So, Monica, what do you do?”

Something in science, the answer was obvious if she was at this holiday party. But she humored you all the same, turning her back to the counter and leaning close to you. There was pride in her answer, and it bloomed in her chest.

“I’m a mechanical engineer, specializing in astrophysics and astrobiology.”

“Don’t’ sell yourself short.” Darcy interjected with a watery laugh “She’s the head of our S.W.O.R.D division.”

Darcy had spoken about this before and the name rang familiar. Her company was looking at alternative fuel sources that could supply space exploration. All the while, they focused on vertical growing and bettering the community. From what you understood, this was a big deal. She was a big deal.

“Wow, that’s very impressive Ms. Rambeau”

Your voice was filled with genuine awe, but your conversation was cut short when the number sixteen was called out. Monica sheepishly pulled herself away from the bar and held her strip of paper up before approaching the table filled with wrapped gifts. She went for a medium-sized one adorned in reindeer.

“Oh wow!” She forced a smile, voice sweet like honey “A magic kit!”

The air in your room was stale and fought you as you pulled it into your lungs. You’d, at some point, kicked off your comforter and were splayed out on your sheets in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and an oversized shirt. Sweat hat soaked through both and the fabric clung to your skin.

On a blind instinct you grabbed at the gun under your nightstand, fastened by nothing more than duct tape. You could feel your heart in your throat and struggled to swallow it down again. You weren’t sure when this became second nature for you, something within the last two months of accompanying Natasha to the gun range for hours a time.

All the same, you held the tip of the weapon to the ground and rounded the corner of your bedroom into the dark hallway. You were unsettled from the dream you’d just had. The memory. Your subconscious had finally connected the woman who stood at Carol’s side. Her familiarity.

Monica Rambeau.

It was true, there was a stark coldness to her when you’d met at a Christmas party just the year before. It was only in passing and there were moments, like at the fair, when Darcy would mention her co-worker.

This changed things. Anxiety spiked haplessly, even as you diligently searched and cleared each room the way you had been taught. Keep your gun down, keep your eyes on the darkest corners of the room, ready to fire your weapon at any point. Especially if it was aimed at Natasha.

There was the slight movement of a shadow to your left and you quickly raised the gun, aiming it directly at the disturbance. Veronica stood on a chair in the kitchen, struggling to fill a glass with warm water, the only temperature that the faucet would allow.

You let out a quiet, mortified sigh before tucking the weapon into the waistband of your shorts. Your daughter blinked with wide eyes and that same guilty feeling flooded you at once, overtaking the anxiety.

“Baby,” You breathed, closing the distance between you and flicking on the overhead lights. You both flinched at their harshness but eventually blinked the shock away. “What are you doing up?”

You didn’t expect an answer, nor did you get one. Instead, you scooped her up under her arms and set her gently on the linoleum. There was water in the fridge, but she always had issues pouring it from the large jug. Ronnie was stubborn and shot you a frown at your intrusion.

“Don’t give me that look, kid.”

Her expression eased and you dumped the water down the drain before refilling the glass with something colder and more refreshing. Ronnie gulped it down eagerly, soaking the collar of her shirt with the liquid. She let out an appeased noise and wiped the rest of the water away from her mouth. She stood on her tip-toes and placed the glass in the sink.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh? Me either.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She blinked tiredly at you, your heart melting at the sight. It was easy to remember the words Natasha had trusted you with on the Ferris Wheel. Veronica would talk when she wanted to, but you had become quite good at reading her expressions and movements. Within the last month, you had stopped the long drives and the specialists. It eased you both.

“How about a sleepover?”

The exhaustion turned into joy and then combined within her look. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you scooped her up. She was getting too big for this, but you didn’t much care. You’d gotten stronger in the last few months and even if you hadn’t, you’d do the same.

With a show of dramatics you tossed her onto the bed and replaced the duvet that you’d flung off. Carefully, as Ronnie’s stare averted, you placed the gun in the drawer next to your bed. The last thing you did was prop the window open, letting out the flat air and letting in the sound of the city.

Ronnie was pulled flush against your chest in a matter of moments, though you had suddenly lost all exhaustion. You listened to the sirens, to the calls of people just ending their nights. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the horns of the boats that settled into the harbor.

“I love you so much.” You whispered into the small of her neck, “One day I’m going to get us out of here.”

Veronica didn’t respond, but the squeeze her little hand gave yours was all the reassurance that you needed.

Clint swallowed down steaming black coffee without blowing on it to cool it down. The nutty scent filled the cab of the car and warmed your nerves. He drank like your daughter did, but with the purpose of waking himself up before the sun. You never did get back to sleep and were wired enough to refuse the cup he offered you this morning.

He’d knocked on your door as the orange sun moved over the horizon. You were to accompany him to the docks to check on business. This somehow seemed less intimidating than the dinner you’d attended with Natasha.

“It’ll be easy. We have a chokehold on the harbor, we just have to check with a few of the vendors to collect their dock rent and call it a day. Everything else is done under the table. People aren’t too happy because at the end of the day, we’re the ones that take money from them. But it’s a necessary evil.”

You nodded and watched as the city went by. It was peaceful, quiet. There had been a single foster home that you stayed in that had a view of the entire skyline. You were too far away to see the bustling people and the everyday chaos that accompanied it.

There were, of course, moments of calm when you would work the early morning shift at the diner. But that would always shatter by the time you made the two minute walk from your apartment to the back door that was choked with the scent of garbage and cheap cigarettes.

“We have some invitations to hand out too. In the glovebox.”

You furrowed your brow and popped it open. His weapon (or his second, or third) sat upon a stack of manilla cards with elegant writing on them that had to be done by hand. You inspected them but didn’t’ dare separate the paper.

“What are these for?”

“Nat throws a party for her benefactors every single year. It’s real fancy, a suit and tie thing. Her renters are invited too and if they have the balls to show up, they always have a good time. She makes sure of it.”

“We’re expected to attend?”

He nodded, “It’s a requirement, really. As Natasha’s right hand. You go where she goes and once your probationary period is over, you’ll be on her like glue. Though, I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

You frowned at his statement, his insinuation. Sure, you had gotten close to Natasha, had even grown to like her. She had a way of getting under your skin until it felt like she lived in it. Otherwise, you would have cut your losses long ago and let her slit your throat the first moment she met you.

There was a feeling of devotion that you felt the need to uphold. She had spared your life, after all. You’d spent the last two and a half months with her guiding you, teaching you how to obey her every word. Without fault, you would. Clint knew it, Kate and Yelena knew it. You knew it.

Instead of admitting it, you frowned and slumped further in your seat, struggling to ignore Clint’s own shit-eating expression. By the time he pulled to a stop, it had started to drizzle enough for him to flick his wipers on. The sound of them scraping against the window filled the silence.

You took careful attention to stay quiet and observe. Your gun was strapped carefully to your side and the invitations rested in your side pocket. You didn’t dare get them wet and let the ink run in a soupy mess. It had been years since you’d been out here and part of you was unsteady on the aged and slick wood.

“Sam is a cool guy. His family has hold on a good portion of the harbor. He likes to joke, so don’t pay him any mind.” Clint jabbed you with his elbow. “And loosen up a little bit, would you?”

You glowered at him and rubbed the stiff spot on your ribs but felt your shoulders lower a bit. There was a lot of weight behind this, that had been made clear to you the second you were inducted into this system.

Instead of heading directly down the long stretches of worn dock, Clint took a turn just before the asphalt ended. A small structure that looked less weathered than the rest of your surroundings rested at the lots end. The windows were thick enough to withstand the watery winds.

Clint stilled his large hand shooting out across your chest. It took you a few seconds to clock the shattered glass on the front door. Small smears of crimson pocked the shards that remained. Much like the evening before, you drew your gun on instinct, and Clint did the same.

He didn’t take care to hide your presence. Instead, he took the brunt of his large boot and cracked through the doorframe with the force of one kick. Wood splintered, raining down on linoleum and a desk that was easily from the 70’s.

You could smell the blood before you saw it, nearly sliding on the flooring. You caught yourself before that happened, heart pounding in your ears. “Fuck!”

“Jesus Christ,” Clint mirrored your sentiments.

Whoever had been here was long gone, but they’d left quite the mess. They’d torn through the filing cabinets, leaving legal papers and folders scattered against the desk and the expanse of cabin space.

You tracked the source of the pooling blood with little difficulty. A man- one that you had rightly never seen before- was laying on his back, facing the ceiling. From edge to edge of his throat was a long cut leaking an ugly red color. His stare was frosty, soaked into his sweatshirt.

It was like a car crash, something that you struggled to avert your eyes from until Clint physically grasped your chin and turned your attention to him. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. Good.” You answered cooly, swallowing whatever dryness was in your throat. “Who would do something like this?”

“Carol… one of her lackeys. This is an eye for an eye thing.”

Even if it was an act of revenge, this was extensive. It sent a clear message even if you didn’t’ exactly know all the specifics of the feud. Of course, you’d seen Yelena at work and even that was mild compared to the brutality of this.

The thought of Monica, if it even had been her, completing a task as unfeeling as this filled your veins with ice. You felt your nails dig into your palms, soft and stinging. There was a surge of anger, and sadness that mixed into resolution. Natasha was right to despise the Danver’s family. Any family that treated the world with this much cruelty.

Natasha was in the gym on the second floor. Large windows overlooked the backyard, and a prolonged view of the harbor. There were blue mats adorning the floor, and a few wracks meant for weightlifting.

You had never seen this part of the house before. Usually the weather permitted sparring outside, but the late summer rain had made that impossible. Sheets of water obscured your usual view, though, it wasn’t exactly trained on the windows.

Natasha had her back facing you, her breathing timed evenly with each punch she threw at an 80-pound bag filled with sand. She wore tight-fitting shorts and a sports bra that left little to the imagination. Not that you had imagined her in that situation before.

Her muscles tightened and relaxed with each movement. They were scarred in a deep orchid pink, long ago healed. At one point, she was lashed. You recognized the damage done by a leather belt and shivered at the memory of it.

Natasha was fit, she was coated in a layer of sweat that dripped across her strength. You had to be clear minded for this and the state of her wasn’t making it easy on you. Her knuckles were wrapped, and she would grunt with each thrust of her fist. For just a moment, you wished you were under her mercy instead of the punching bag.

That broke when she panted against the bag, stopping its swinging with a firm grasp on either side. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”

Natasha had focused her green eyes on you through the reflection of the window. Of course, you hadn’t intended to gawk as long as you had. But you were leaning against the doorframe of the gym, practically drooling. You had forgotten yourself and you wouldn’t’ put it past Natasha to notice.

She turned to you, a wolfish smile on her face. “Take your jacket off. Holster too.”

You struggled to ignore the haughty expression on her face when you did exactly what she said without question, almost too eagerly, depositing them on the edge of the mat. You pushed your shoes off too, knowing not to track mud on any of Natasha’s carpets.

Her eyebrow lifted at the action. She’d moved closer during your actions, and you’d nearly run into her before noticing. Her presence was intoxicating. All-consuming.

“You’re here to tell me something,” She proclaimed “you’ve got that adorable look on your face. It’s good to know someone in this house still fears me.”

She was joking and it tugged at your heart to send that mood down to the ground before lighting it on fire. You’d expected her to be in poorer spirits after Clint had called her and let her know what had happened at the harbor. Instead, she responded in her same calculated coolness that she regarded you with now.

There was nothing about her demeanor that eased you, and suddenly, it felt like you were being scolded for a decision you had made. Even more so when she grasped your chin and forced you to look at her.

“That woman with Carol from the other night. I know her. Briefly.”

“Briefly?”

“As in, I met her at a Christmas party a few years back and… left with her.”

Natasha’s grip tightened against your chin, her thumb digging into your jaw. There was too much alcohol flowing that night and after making stinted conversation about how to disconnect two metal rings smoothly, the two of you went back to her apartment.

Before the sun came up, you left. There was shame in it, and the walk back to your own apartment punctuated with Darcy’s scolding was enough to make you forget the encounter altogether. It was one night- a fun night, but singular all the same.

Natasha let out a small noise of disapproval that sunk straight to your core. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does she remember you?”

“It… didn’t seem like it.”

Her eyes narrowed, nose a short distance from your own. You could feel the hotness of her breath against your throat. How you had disappointed her. That much was clear from the lack of tenderness in her grasp. She eventually released you, trailing her fingers down the expanse of your neck.

She played with the small charm of your necklace, nothing more than a dainty gold chain with the tiniest whisper of a diamond in the center. Your skin prickled at the sensation, breath audibly catching as she worked her fingers over the length of chain.

“Well, I suppose this could be a problem. Especially with Carols violent behavior lately.”

Natasha sighed dramatically, and within an instant her nimble hand had tightened around your throat. She walked you the three steps backwards to the nearest wall. The small of your back landed with a heady thud and you used the last of your available breath to grunt out in protest.

Of course, you had seen her angry before, but it was never directed at you. Not like this. She wasn’t squeezing tight enough to injure you, not really. But the shock of the movement had made you think she would end you all the same.

“You should have come to me right away, pet.” Her grasp tightened; words growled. “And here I thought you were such a good, obedient, girl.”

Her words filled you with an immense shame for letting her down. Over the past few months, it had become impossible to be anything but perfect for Natasha Romanoff. The fact that you hadn’t connected the dots sooner was disillusioning.

The grip against your throat loosened ever so slightly as she leaned closer, her lips nearly ghosting your own. You could barely taste her, a strangled whimper escaping you. She pressed her body close. It was warm and overwhelming.

“I expect you to handle this on your own if it becomes a problem, darling.”

Before you could close the distance, Natasha pulled away from you entirely. It left you panting against the wall, wanting for something more. She knew exactly what she was doing. You craved her more than anything, and she had brought you so close to something you both wanted before denying it altogether.

Natasha sauntered, actually sauntered, across the gym and grabbed a towel from a nearby bench. She regarded you with flushed cheeks, her eyebrow raised as if nothing had just happened and you supposed that nothing did.

“Clint has told you about the party?” It took a few seconds before you found your voice, after her gentle urgings “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes ma’am. He did.”

She reached for a water bottle, exchanging it’s spot on the bench for the towel. She takes three hungry swallows, and you watched the way her throat moved in response to the water. Each of her movements seemed deliberate, nearly calculated to get a reaction out of you.

“Perfect. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours about what to wear. I’ll lay a dress out in your room.”

“My room?” Your words were squeaked.

There was a short hum in response as she gulped down another helping of water before setting it down entirely. That anger had ebbed away from her almost entirely. The fire that had been within her eyes excited you, and despite yourself, so did her demands.

“You’re so skittish. Come here. We need to work on your lead hook.”

Natasha didn’t offer to wrap your knuckles, nor did you ask. Instead, you leaned into the bag, letting the course material cut into your knuckles with a welcoming sting.

There was great thought put into any Romanoff party that was thrown. Lights were wrapped around the banister, and caterers walked through the teems of people with unwavering silver trays of finger food that cost more than your old salary for a number of months.

Back storm doors were opened to the pool, lit up and buzzing with an equal amount of people. Natasha had hired a piano player who haplessly pressed down on keys and drew a small crowd with each song that would crescendo into the dining room.

The overlapping theme was a dark forest green that reminded you much of the paint color slathered on Natasha’s bedroom walls. Something you hadn’t seen in months, but remembered so fondly. It was clear that she wanted to present a united force, something strong and unwavering in their power.

Clint was dawned with a finely pressed suit and a deep green tie that matched the shade of Kate’s dress to the very hue. She wore something silk and modest, reaching down to her heeled feet but leaving her muscular arms entirely bare.

Yelena stunned in a dress of her own, a crushed sage velvet that had a dipping neckline and sleeves that met at her wrist. By the confidence of her stride, you had no trouble believing she had chosen the outfit with the thought of how many weapons she could conceal. Her devilish smile only confirmed your thoughts.

As of you, Natasha had picked out something a little more revealing. Much like the maroon number she wore to dinner the other night, the dress she chose for you hugged every inch of your body. Its fern color complimented your complexion, bringing out the redness of your cheeks.

A slit moved from the base of your dress to the middle of your thigh. A halter neckline clung to your breasts, nearly pushing them up and out. It had been years, high school prom, since you’d worn something even close to this. You felt your shoulders flush red when you descended the stairs and struggled to blend in.

Natasha was sidled up by the mantel in deep conversation with someone who was a stranger to you. Most of the people here were. Though, their hands gave way to their high-ranking positions in the city. Few had callouses or oil stains.

She was in a three-piece suit that was color matched to your own outfit down to the shade. There were gold accents on her jewelry and the neckline of her waistcoat dipped down the tanned expanse of her skin.

Kate let out a low whistle in response to your entrance as she offered you a hand at the base of the stairs. You’d almost missed the last one due to your shameless gawking at the woman of the party. “Quite the looker, y/n. Natasha chose this?”

“Naturally,”

She chuckled softly, a small sound “Nothing if not calculating. Do you know how to socialize at one of these things?”

“Mm, as the caterer, yes.”

This seemed to amuse her more than you’d like. Katherine Elizabeth Bishop was a name that you had reluctantly googled early on in your employment. She had grown up wealthy and well acquainted with gatherings such as these. Of course, that was before her mother wound up incarcerated for white-collar crimes. The skills seemed to benefit her here, however.

Kate did everything with practiced fluidity that you envied. She plucked two champagne glasses from a nearby tray. “Only one of these, nurse it like your life depends on it. That way they won’t keep trying to shove alcohol into your hands. This is work, after all.”

You followed her lead and took a small sip of the bubbling, sour liquid. It was more expensive than anything you had ever had before and far-from-palatable. It wouldn’t be had to keep the drinking at bay.

“The man that Yelena is schmoozing over there is Billy Russo. Jigsaw. He’s in charge of the lower quarter. The Romanoff’s and the Russo’s have a cordial relationship and Yelena is much more feared than him.”

“Why do they call him jigsaw?” You whispered.

“He tends to chop people into pieces until they’re impossible to put back together. And that’s if you find all the missing parts. He has a very nice summer home up in the Poconos, so don’t get on his bad side.”

Suddenly the drink in your hand didn’t look too bad, but you held it right where it was. Clint was laughing by the window, obviously pushing his charm on a woman that you had never clocked before. She was running her fingers up his tie, tightening it before letting her hands drop.

“Barton is with Ophelia Sarkissian, the Viper. She is known for her cunning leadership. She’s got a huge organization in Hell’s Kitchen. Something called Hydra. I wouldn’t worry too much about it though because Natasha is keeping a tight eye on it.”

“Mm, cut one head off, two more grow back.”

“What?”

“Greek mythology. Hydra is a big water snake that has nine heads. Each time one was cut off two more would grow back in its place. It was practically unkillable until Hercules came through the marshes with his nephew. Hercules would slice each head off while Iolaus cauterized the wounds so the heads couldn’t grow back.”

Kate blinked at you with shock in her eyes. You simply gave her a shrug in return. People constantly underestimated you and your intelligence. Besides, when you were a child, you had a morbid fascination with Greek mythology as a whole.

She stared beyond your shoulder, lilting her head to the side.

“I didn’t realize that Natasha’s new plaything was so knowledgeable.”

Ice ran thorough your veins. Your eyes darted to the window where Clint and Mrs. Sarkissian had once been. It was vacant now, and an expertly painted hand drummed past your arm. They were sharp and sent chills down your spine as she rounded you, sidling up next to Kate.

“Trust fund kid, leave us.”

Kate drew in a sharp breath, straightening her shoulders. She nearly opened her mouth to stay something but thought better of it before shooting you a look of apology and vanishing into the crowd in the dining room.

Ophelia was intoxicating in her presence. She towered over you and wore snakeskin heels to widen the distance. She wore a tight-fitted black dress that had cuts on either side, exposing her toned stomach to the world. What she wanted with you wasn’t clear, but her hand toyed coyly with the neckline of your own dress, adjusting it.

“Word travels fast in this city. I just couldn’t wait to see it myself. Hearing that Natasha Romanoff of all people expelled her Winter soldier for a… Summer Sentient. All seasons are temporary, I suppose.”

“Expelled?”

The word had slipped from your tongue, and you quickly thought better of it when she settled her splayed hand against your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. It was cold, unfeeling. Unlike the fire that Natasha had instilled in you earlier.

There was a demonic smile that spread across her face, both of her eyebrows lifting as she let out an exaggerated grasp. It was clear that this woman, this leader, couldn’t keep her hands to herself in any manner, including the internal affairs that she dangled in front of you like a prize.

“Oh, did Natty not tell you? She had Bucky under her thumb for years, nearly a decade. A few months back, he was just gone. There’s a lot of gossip in these streets and not much of it is plausible, but I’d put money on this one.”

Again, her fingers danced over your collarbone. “Miss Romanoff is not known for her mercy, but after beating the Winter Soldier within an inch of his life, she let him go. He ran like any sensible man would, of course. But he left a trail of blood behind him. I’m quite sure he’s somewhere out west struggling to move in an upper body brace.”

She laughed cruelly at the look on your face. There was no use in masking it. You knew that Bucky had been absent, but through your own turmoil you had forgotten all about it. Your stomach twisted in unease. What if Natasha grew tired of you? It was inevitable, really. You’ only prolonged your fate by bending to her whim.

“Ophelia,” Natasha’s voice drew your attention first, and then the heat of her touch on the small of your back. “Have you tried the lamb?”

The woman faltered, gritting her teeth “I was about to.”

“Oh, you must.” Yelena seemed to materialize out of nowhere, looping her arm around Madame Hydra herself. She pulled with intent. “I haven’t seen you since Moscow. We need to catch up!”

“I was never in Moscow.”

“That’s a shame. I can paint you a brilliant picture.”

Their voices faded away into the rest of the party. It was then that you noticed Clint by the door, his stance stiffened. Kate glowered next to him, not following her own rule and downing the rest of her drink before plucking another off the passing tray.

You stepped out of Natasha’s grasp, not wanting to be anywhere near her at the moment. Her perfume was intoxicating. Its floral scent made you dizzy and took away your ability to think straight. It was part of the reason you had been lulled this far into complicity. It scared you that you were willing to do anything for her.

“y/n,” she urged.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Natasha’s stare hardened. She gripped the back of your neck in a movement that would otherwise be familiar, sweet, even. However, the way she led you down the hallway made your stomach drop in a feeling of doom. “Not here, Malen'kiy krolik.”

Natasha’s office was strictly off limits, but you found yourself in the warmth of it in a matter of moments. There was no wall that wasn’t adorned with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a large cherrywood desk was at its head. It was kept neat like the rest of the house.

There was a PHD on the wall, and an associates under that. Each bore Natasha’s name. She closed the doors behind her. Without regarding you, she went to a shelf in the back of the room, pouring herself a glass of bourbon, much like the one she was drinking when you stirred in her bed.

She swallowed it back, before pouring another. This time she sipped it. Your own back was against the far wall, heart pounding mercilessly through you. Yelling at Natasha had a lot more weight behind it than you anticipated.

“You’re going to do the same to me.” You eventually whispered.

Her body stiffened, muscles tightening and then releasing before she turned to you, her eyes reddened. “What?”

“I’ve been entirely blind to my purpose here. I’ve never… I’ve never understood why you chose me. Why not go for someone who knows what they were doing? Who knew how to protect you and care for you? You had that with Bucky.”

Her eyes hardened. “Don’t you ever mention that name in this house.”

“It’s the truth, Natasha! You could have let me die, just like that, and you didn’t. Instead, you took me in and trained me, and for what? Just to throw me into the harbor with cement blocks chained to my ankles.”

“That is an entirely outdated practice and frankly, it’s insulting.” Her words were soul deep, but they barely broke your skin. “I would never do that.”

“A bullet through the head, then?”

“No.”

You were gaining traction enough to pull yourself from the wall and take heady steps towards her. If you didn’t do it now, you would never. Part of you was certain that you’d never see the outside of this room again. That she’d snap and do exactly what you were imploring her to.

“He served you for years and within a singular night you nearly kill him.” Your breath shook, you were so close to her now. “What is stopping you from doing the exact same to me?”

“No, no” She reached up and grasped both sides of your face. There were tears against your cheeks, something you hadn’t realized dripped from your chin. “Malyshka, no don’t cry.”

Everything had come to a head; the months of non-stop training, the pressure of keeping this side of your life away from your daughter, away from Darcy. A true friend that you had been lying to. And now, knowing that it could be all for nothing. It was easy to dispose of someone like you.

There was no reason to show weakness in front of the woman who was training you not to feel anything at all. Above everything, you found yourself ashamed. She still held your face within her grasp.

“He hurt you.” Her jaw clenched and unclenched, there was a fuzzy vulnerability in her green stare. “I can show mercy, y/n. But I’ve learned, not when it comes to you. Even before all of… this, there was something that I saw within you. Something that made what I did to Bucky all the more worth it.”

You breathed in a watery sniffing sound that was replaced by nothing but a whimper. Natasha softened even more, letting her shoulders fall. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He was pulling back for months, and you were the final straw. I had never seen someone so resilient, someone who didn’t beg for their life but recounted it. In a moment of weakness, I let you go. I thought that training you, that making you mine, would absolve my sins but it’s only deepened them. My feelings for you have only deepened.”

Her forehead was pressed against yours, her ministrations, and God help you, her apologies were startling. Her lips were so close to yours; you could nearly taste the liquor on her breath “Natasha,”

Suddenly, she was all you could feel. Her hand was against you back, pulling you into her body to fit directly on hers. There was such a strong guiding power to her. Your shock was muffled by her mouth on yours, your whine swallowed in moments.

You melted into her, kissing back with enough fever to leave you both breathless. There were stars dancing in your vision, you lungs burning eventually pulling you both apart. She panted twice before pecking your lips once more, you nearly chased after her.

“Fuck,” she growled “you… are absolutely delicious.”

Your cheeks suddenly heated up and you hid your face in the small of her neck, letting out a small groan in embarrassment. You felt Natasha’s laugh rumble through her.

“No need to be timid, pet. There will be plenty of time for that later.” She raked her nails up your back, “Right now, I have a snake to behead.”

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