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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years

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you say the word, im on the way | e. yeager

♤ tags ;; fem!reader, cheating (on reader but not by eren), exes to lover, past toxic relationships, arguing and insults, very emotionally charged sex, co-dependency (in a way), childhood friends to lovers, streamer!eren (BARELY mentioned), make-up sex, oral (f!recieving),, unprotected sex, so much dirty talk, praise kink, petnames angel, baby, pretty girl, eren kinda.. talks to ur pussy djhsdj, 18+

♤ wc ;; 10.2k (utter agony)

♤ a/n ;; i really like. this isn't the best. but that's fine i had a lot of fun alr. very self indulgent. title from teenage fever by drake.

♤ synposis ;; after your boyfriend cheats on you, your ex, eren, shows up for you against all odds. you give into him against your best interest.

You wait for him on the side of the road.

The rain is coming down in heavy sheets. You’re soaked to the bone having left in a hurry with only a single suitcase of your things. Your phones nearly dead, less than 20 percent with an ever-depleting battery. The closest place to charge your phone is too long to walk in this weather. And it’s so late the buses have stopped running.

Even if you could leave, it’s dark and dangerous. Your heart is in your throat, and the only streetlight is so far it hardly makes you feel any safer. You don’t know a single person in your ex-boyfriend's hometown other than his parents, but you aren’t sure you can face them right now if you wanted to.

It’s not like you wanted to call Eren. Or for him to see you as sorry as you are. Dehydrated, exhausted, emotionally battered - you don’t even like seeing Eren when you’re at your best. You’re sure as soon as you get into his car, he’ll start arguing with you. You’ve spent the last 15 minutes mentally readying yourself for his harsh comments whatever they may be.

You don’t have the luxury of being picky. He’s safer than venturing by yourself or taking an Uber. And he owes you one, anyway. Nows a good of a time as any to take him up on that.

Relief fills your whole body when you see a car pull up onto the side of the road. It’s an all-black sports car. Typically Eren, it sticks out sorely from all the other cars that have passed by. Wiping your eyes, you clear your vision to see Eren inside. He’s wearing a black cap and mask.

Your feet sink in the mud as you walk up to the car, but he beats you to the punch. Approaching you in the dead of night with a sort of anger you can feel before you even look at his face. He has a jacket with him made of that thin plastic material.

Before you open your mouth, he’s pulling the poncho over your head. He puts your arms through before he drags you by the wrist to his car. Hurriedly, you grab your suitcase and track it through the mud while you follow. Your voice is too hoarse to protest him, but you shout over the rain.

“Fuck Eren,” You half yell, wriggling your wrist free from his grip “Let me go,”

When he does, you stumble forward. You don’t get a look at his face as he walks over to the driver's side. In your exhaustion, you don’t think twice about it or assume he was doing it on purpose. You resign yourself. Hearing the back trunk of his car open, you try and read his face through the tinted windows. But even with the lights on, you can’t.

Sighing, you truck it towards the back. Your feet sink into the soft earth under you, huffing as you pick it up and shove it into the trunk. After you close it, you hurry back to the passenger seat, finally opening the door to see Eren.

He doesn’t even look at you when you do, eyes focused on the road. You stare at the interior of his car, grimacing at the thought of having to pay him back for getting it covered in mud. Left without a choice, you get in.

The plastic on his seat tells you he might’ve thought ahead. You aren’t sure if you should be comforted by that or not.

The door closes with a soft thud as you get to sit. The sound of the rain is muted almost instantly and leaves you with nothing but the radio, virtually silent, and Eren with a hand over the wheel. You put your seatbelt on and then settle more into your seat. Turning your body to face the window. The tension in the air is so thick you can feel yourself choke around it, breathing through your nose.

Eren’s car smells like spearmint. You’re expecting to be berated at some point, for inconveniencing him or otherwise. After all, you called him through a sob and asked him for something you’re sure he’d rather not be doing.

Instead though, he puts the car in drive, steps on the gas, and does a turn until he’s back on the road home.

He doesn’t say a word or even looks at you. Maybe reminding him of the fact he owed you meant he was going to treat this interaction as entirely transactional, which is infinitely better for you. You let out a breath of relief, shivering. He turns on the heat without you asking.

You decide against speaking and give him a glance of acknowledgment. He doesn’t return the gesture.

You hear your phone buzz in the pocket of your pants, and fish it out. As you expected, it’s just your ex-boyfriend. A slew of missed messages and calls. Your eyes hurt getting adjusted to the bright lights as you send him a quick stop texting me tonight before clicking it off. You want to throw your phone in the river, and yourself. To float down somewhere far from here, and pretend nothing ever happened.

With the white noise of rain no longer drowning out your invasive and sad thoughts, you find yourself choking back more tears. The wound is still fresh, tender, and bleeding.

You’ve always had bad taste in guys.

But you thought this time would be different. He was different. Patient, and attentive and so thoughtful. It was always stable. You met his family, for fuck sake. His mom, dad, and sister - are all good people. A nice house with a garage, health insurance, and a college graduate. From a different place than you and your friends.

It was never all that exciting, but you thought it was better that way. To keep it simple. You put in the effort to make it work. Got comfortable with complacency, and waved off all of your friends when they insisted you should date someone better. Someone who suited you more.

Maybe someone like Eren. The thought makes your stomach sour.

But your ex, he wasn’t a bad guy. It wasn’t so easy. He was safe, and after your other experience with romantic relationships- safety wasn’t something you could dismiss with the idea of deserving more. More was abstract and intangible. Slippery.

You were content, so you stayed. Stability, you told yourself, I just want stability.

He was the last person you could imagine cheating on you. Unsurprisingly with a girl from his hometown who he’d told you about before and swore he got over. Feeling stupid, you let out an exasperated laugh. It’s your fault for trying so hard. For taking his inch and trying to turn it into a mile.

For believing it’d be enough to try. Maybe you know better than anyone, there are just some people you never get closure with. That distant look in his eyes concerned you. But a guy like him didn’t seem like he’d cheat.

You’ve never been so wrong.

Your stomach rumbles as you close your eyes and go over the fight. Subsequently, you forget Eren is even in the car with you. His presence fades into the background, face pained as you think of your exes apologies. He seemed sorry.

But you’re not someone who can forgive or forget easily - so you broke up. It just complicates everything. Already broken up, but you have to get your things. Find a place to stay for the month because it’s too expensive to go home early. Delete him off your socials, and maybe get in touch with your therapist again. The laundry list of post-break-up things to do is the most frustrating and most taxing.

The emotional healing and distrust go in some compartment until you can actually unpack them. After the initial devastations scabs over, you’re sure the sore feeling of sadness will come back with a vengeance.

That’s later though, and this is now.

Moping is a pipe-dream, seeing as you’re in a place where you have no one and nothing. The only person you know lives here is Eren, but you’re not really expecting any help from him after tonight. Maybe 3 days max, if he’s feeling generous enough.

At the very least, he must feel pretty sorry for you. No snippy remark or sarcastic gripe since you’ve gotten in. You can’t figure out what he’s thinking, just as before. It’s almost impossible to get a read on his face, and that thought leaves your mouth bitter.

As bitter as a favor. As bitter as a memory, you swipe your tongue on your teeth to rid yourself of the taste but it lingers.

You avert your eyes to your hands, peeling the skin off the edge of your fingernails. After a minute or two, you drive in front of a stoplight. The red reflects onto your sneakers and into Eren’s car.

“So,” He starts, voice filled with that familiar sharpness “How’s the boyfriend?”

Ah. There it is. He almost disarmed you with his silence. It’s a weird way to start scolding you, but you’ve never really understood why Eren does what he does. You sigh, clearing your throat. It’s thick with tears you’ve been shedding all evening.

“Ex-boyfriend.”

The light goes green, and he takes a right. He lives farther than you thought.

“How’d you fuck it up this time?”

Normally, his insistence on blaming you would frustrate you. It’s classically Eren. The projection was always the name of the game when you two were dating, especially at the sour end of your relationship.

Your desire and ability to fight are diminished though, turning into ember and ash. Giving him a shrug, you laugh a bit.

“Don’t know,” You say with a little more honesty than you were intending to “I just uh. I don’t know.”

He sighs this time, and his voice goes a touch soft. Sympathy feels worse than his anger. How pathetic you must look settles in.

“...What happened?”

It’s hard to get yourself to say it. Even though you know it. Getting the words out feels like climbing a mountain. You lean back into the headrest and turn away from him. Watching the passing cars intently, you smile.

“He cheated on me. From uh, a girl with his hometown,” You say, forthright. Hoping his pity might make him go easy on you “His first love. I came home and found them in our bed,”

You can feel him go stiff beside you.

You realize that anything he said to you right now probably wouldn’t hurt. The numb pain outweighs everything else that you think it’d slide off your back.

“And?”

“Uh... I don’t know. She left. And we got into a fight. Broke up with him and said I’d figured something out. Just didn’t really want to be in the same room with him,” You sigh, rubbing underneath your eyes “Packed my shit and sort of wandered around trying to figure out what to do. Called you when I saw how late it got,”

“Should’ve called me earlier,” He says simply. You chuckle.

“Like when?”

He huffs.

“Earlier. Would’ve picked you from his place and fought him or something.”

You smile somberly.

“I thought about it, buut I thought that'd upset him, so I didn’t,”

This he scoffs at, anger in his voice.

“That’s so like you,”

You wish you could disagree.

“Yeah,” You say back, unsure of what else to do “Yeah, guess it is.”

“What’re you gonna do now?”

You take a deep breath in.

“I won’t be in your hair long. I’ll try and score an Airbnb and wait it out. Leaving early is expensive as fuck.”

“You could stay with me if it’s just a couple of weeks,” He offers easily “Airbnbs are more expensive than a ticket, right?”

“Would your girlfriend be okay with that? Does she know you’re picking me up?”

He stares out into the road, jaw clenched.

“We broke up a while ago.”

“What happened there?”

“None of your business.”

You scoff.

“Of course, it isn’t,” You reply, a little angrier than you can control “Your personal life never is. My mistake. I’m a little rusty on how this works.”

His voice is so cold it’s chilling.

“Don’t,” He grits, hands hard on the steering wheel “Don’t fucking start,”��

“I’m not trying to start anything. But it’s hypocritical for you to ask me about the shit that just happened and not even tell me why you and your girlfriend broke up.”

“I’m doing you a favor,” He justifies in a half-hearted way you’ve grown accustomed to “I deserve to know,”

You laugh, voice strangled.

“You deserve a fucking foot up your ass,” You spit, suddenly shaking “A simple ‘It’s complicated or ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now’ would’ve sufficed.”

“You’re still good at picking fights,” He goads, mouth twisted in a sneer “Did you nag him too? Maybe that’s why he went crawling back to his first love”

It’s too far. He’s too far, and he knows it. It’s all over his face, even masked in anger. You shoot him a deadly look, arms crossed over your chest. Suddenly, tears well up in your eyes and you can’t even look at him. It was a mistake, of course it was. You shouldn’t have bothered. Expecting anything from Eren was your own fault. Even basic decency.

Whatever camaraderie you used to have dissolved a long time ago. You bite your tongue

“You’re the fucking worst,” You sniffle, closing your eyes “Just drop me off at a hotel. I don’t want to be around you. It’s my fault for assuming you’d be civil.”

His hands are gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Tell me how you really feel,” His voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I think I’m being plenty civil right now,”

“Fuck. Do you get off on provoking me? On hurting my fucking feelings?” Your voice comes to a scratchy yell, unable to contain the anger in it “I just got fucking cheated on. In the middle of a city where I don’t know a single person other than you. You’re the last person I want to fucking see, Eren. The last,”

“So why’d you call me crying?”

“I didn’t have a choice! If I had a choice, I would’ve called anyone else. Would’ve called Jean or Connie or Armin—anyone. Anyone who isn’t fucking you.”

He clicks his teeth.

“Liar,” He says with the sort of confidence that floors you “You would’ve still called me even if everyone we know was in the city,”

It stings that he’s right. Your strength crumbles.

“So what if that’s true? What does it matter that I thought of you? That’s always been my issue, right? How’d you put it again?” You laugh out loud, a little out of it “I should stop expecting anything from you, right? It’s my fault. I should just stop having expectations for anyone. It must be me.”

He looks a little strained. Almost sorry. You scoff.

“Yeah,” You mumble, exhausted “You’re right. I shouldn’t expect anything from anyone. No matter how much I heal, or how hard I try to do the right thing”

“Y/N—”

“I worked on myself. Went to therapy. Took time off from dating altogether. Did everything right and still,” Your mouth fills with iron “Still. Still. I can’t find one person to treat me decently. Congrats, Yeager. It’s just like you hoped.”

The silence that follows says more than you ever could. You rub your temple. He’s probably right that you pushed it.

“Sorry for snapping on you,” You reply, voice tense “But, I still want to be dropped off at a hotel.”

“Why?”

You laugh.

“What do you think? Think we’re gonna be able to play house for two weeks? It hasn’t even been an hour and we’re fighting,”

He’s thinking. You can see it on his face, the tight strain of his jaw, and his brows. You haven’t seen him in person for more than a couple of years. But the familiarity always lingers. It doesn’t feel unusual, even the fighting.

He hasn’t changed. That much is obvious.

You shouldn’t have called, you think. It might’ve been better to get hypothermia and walk to the nearest motel.

“It’s not your fault he cheated on you,” He says. You think it’s his way of apologizing, a piss poor attempt at comforting you “Guys are just scumbags. Hung up on their first love or whatever. It’s not uncommon,”

You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. Frankly, you don’t have the energy for either.

“Does that include you?” You attempt to joke. To your surprise, he laughs. His voice is hoarse, and a touch resentful. Not at you, though. That feels important.

“Yeah.” He replies, not looking over at you “Me especially,”

It’s the first time he’s said as much about himself in your presence. Before it was that you didn’t understand him or that you didn’t get it. It’s too early to retract your previous statement. Hope sparks anyways. For what, you don’t want to know.

You nod sagely.

“You especially,” You affirm without any trouble “At least you know.”

This time, he smiles at you. It’s barely there. This whole conversation and the good nature of it is like walking on eggshells. You both know that.

Eren breaks the silence first as he pulls into another lane.

“Stay with me for tonight,” He offers “Just tonight,”

You don’t know why he insists. A loud yawn slips through your lips and your inclination to protest dwindles before being snubbed out completely. Shivering, you nod. Your head feels heavy.

“If you say so,”

You think you feel a pair of eyes on you before sleep washes over you like a tide. They might be Erens, but in your delirium, you can’t be sure. It doesn’t take much for you to succumb to sleep.

After your car ride ended, Eren woke you up gently to help you inside. This time, he took your luggage without your asking and helped you into his home.

He lives in one of those luxury apartments with a doorman. It’s fancier than you could ever imagine yourself living in. There’s a chandelier in the lobby, with a gym and a pool. Trekking mud into such a nice place makes you feel guilty. Eren seems unbothered.

You take the elevator up to the 7th floor, and then a right into the hallway. Eren fishes the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let you in.

This is a bachelor pad. It’s the first thing that crosses your mind when you enter.

The decoration is minimalist and expensive. Boyish in its extravagance, littered with pricey things only Eren Yeager would buy. The couches are black, the carpet is white and the windows are big panes that overlook the entire city.

A flatscreen takes up most of the room. There’s a kitchen but it looks unused. It’s lived in, in the way that there are running shoes and clothes. Mess that happens when you spend your time somewhere, but it’s void of things a girlfriend would have in the house. You would know.

On one of the walls is a painting of a woman's naked body, tastefully done. From what you remember of Eren’s ex-girlfriend, she’d have his head over something like that.

Eren clears his throat behind you. When you turn to look at him, he looks a little sheepish.

“Broke up a while ago huh,”

He looks surprised at your deduction. You poke your head at the painting.

“She would’ve beat your ass for even thinking about putting that up,”

His expression is affirmative. After you’re done taking it in, all of your sensory issues hit you all at once. You pull the sleeves of your soaked hoodie over your hands but you’re freezing. His eyes widen.

“Ah, shit. Let me get you a towel. I’ll turn the heat up too,”

“Thanks, ‘ren.”

The nickname slips out of habit, but you don’t get a chance to retract it as Eren shuffles off to grab you a towel.

It doesn’t take him very long, a few in hand. You watch him idly as he turns on the heat before hurrying back over to you, shoving towels your way. You make him hold them for a minute, taking off your poncho and hanging it to him.

You dry yourself off to the best of your ability as Eren goes to put away the raincoat.

“Mind if I shower?”

He shakes his head.

“Would be concerned if you didn’t. I can get us food or something while you’re in there,”

“That’s… thoughtful of you. I’d appreciate it. I can Venmo—”

He puts a hand up, sitting on the back of his couch while you dry yourself off.

“Save your money if you’re worried about it.”

“I don’t want to owe you anything.”

Your frank way of speaking to him irritates him, same as always.

“You won’t owe me,” He assures first “I know we hate each other's guts now, but I’m not gonna let you go hungry.”

Warm. It makes you feel warm. You avert your eyes as you dry yourself off.

“Your mom would have your head,” You murmur. He laughs.

“My mom might forgive me. Zeke and my old man would hang me like a flag,”

“How’s Zeke been?”

His expression goes dry. They’re fighting. Eren rolls his eyes.

“Fine. On my ass, as usual. Business is good. I’ve got a niece now. Zeke’s wrapped around her finger,”

You’ve seen it floating on social media. You feel a little melancholy. It must show on your face.

“You should still visit home sometimes. Don’t be a stranger,”

You smile sadly.

“Easier said than done,”

“...Even if you don’t see me. I’m not the only one who misses you. Jean hasn’t stopped bitching about you going to see just Armin.”

You don’t know if he catches it. He misses you. You’re too afraid to confront it but unable to ignore it. You think over his words.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” You start, voice slow “But after everything… after everything.”

There’s a minute where neither of you talks. Yet it’s not silent. The room is tense with everything you want to say or everything you did. Every regret, every memory starts to buzz all at once inside of your ribs like a spark of electricity through your hollow.

“If tonight didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have ever seen you again,”

He shakes his head with the same confidence as before.

“I would’ve found you.”

He says it like it doesn’t need any explanation. As casual as relaying the weather to you. He gives you a look, scratching his jaw.

“Go shower. How’s Thai? Same as before?”

It takes you a second to find your voice.

“Y-Yeah. Same as before. Where’s your shower?”

He directs his eyes towards the bathroom. You grab your small luggage on your way, offering him a quiet thanks. The sound of your heartbeat thrums in your ears, faster than the pounding rain.

Time passes like sand between your fingers.

After a shower, a change of clothes, and a full stomach - you and Eren are left totally in each other's company. Your expectation of it being awkward or even marginally uncomfortable becomes unthinkable after a while. Despite how late it is, you aren’t tired or all that sad.

Truthfully, you don’t know how to handle how familiar Eren feels. Like a durable winter coat with a heavy and comforting weight on your shoulders. It’s not burdensome to talk to him. He matches your pace and picks up easily on your quips. Natural lulls in conversation don’t feel uncomfortable and every misdirect or anecdote opens the door for more conversation.

Maybe you should’ve expected that. You and Eren grew up together. Along with Mikasa and Armin, and everyone from your hometown. It shouldn’t surprise you that Eren is comfortable.

When you look at him, you see home. If your gaze lingers. even a second too long or if you think for a minute more than necessary, you’re caught in the web of memories you’ve spent your whole life making.

You wonder about your ex-boyfriend. The irony of it isn’t lost on you. Maybe it hurts because you understand perfectly. No matter how much you love after, there’s nothing like first love. If he saw that in her eyes, it’s all that much harder to feel angry.

The only thing keeping you grounded is remembering that you’ve tried before and it failed miserably. It sinks you when you float too close to your heartwarming nostalgia.

The acrid truth is that this is all temporary and circumstantial.

Every now and again you remind yourself you’ve just been very vulnerable. And Eren’s grounding presence is helping you.

Again and again, you remind yourself that.

“High school was so ass,” Eren leans back into the couch, stretching his legs out “Mrs. Carnegie was such a bitch,”

You give him an unimpressed look. He looks like you remember when he’s like this. Having changed into his own clothes, hair tied up messily. He’s adjacent to you on the couch, far enough to stretch his limbs comfortably.

“She was nice to me. She was a bitch to you because you kept interrupting class,”

He rolls his eyes.

“And who was I doing that for?”

Your heart skips a beat. .

“Man, whatever.”

He laughs at you.

“Weak come-back,” He hums, laying his head on the back of his couch. He tilts his head in your direction “I was a good boyfriend in high school at least,” He adds, a little softer.

“You were. You were kinda like a puppy,”

He groans.

“Don’t say it like that, that’s humiliating.”

“What are you talking about? Puppies are cute.”

“Yeah, but hearing that now is embarrassing. I’m a man now,”

You raise a brow.

“Men can't be cute like puppies?”

“No,”

“But Armin is right there,”

“Doesn’t count. He literally looks like a fairy prince. Statistical anomaly,”

That makes you laugh hard enough your stomach hurts.

“Why’re you laughing? Am I wrong?”

“You just said it so seriously. He is an anomaly but I think Connie is cute in a puppy way too,”

“Connie’s bald ass? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I like it, his hair looks good buzzed.”

“You’d find something nice to say about a pile of trash,”

“I like your long hair, Yeager.”

He gives you an unimpressed laugh as you break out into laughter.

“Low fucking blow,”

“Cry,”

This time he laughs instead, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it easily, holding it to your chest.

“I do like the hair though. It’s all you ever talked about,”

He gives you a little smile.

“You remembered. I thought it’d make me look cooler. Alternative or whatever. Don’t know if it’s working,”

“Your fans seem to love it,”

He looks sheepish at the mention of his work. You laugh.

“It gets a mixed response. A lot of people miss the short hair. I mostly keep it long because it’s easier to style,”

“Both are nice. I like your short hair more when I think about it,”

“Yeah?”

“I guess it’s cause it was short when we’re growing up. And uh,”

“When we were dating?”

You give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah. When we were dating, it was always short,”

He closes his eyes, suddenly deep in thought.

“You wanna know why I kept it short?”

You think you’d be better off not knowing.

“...Why?”

“When you’d play with my hair,” Subconsciously, he pushes his hair back a little “I could feel it better when my hair was shorter. Thought if I’d grew it, you wouldn’t touch it cause it’d get greasy quicker.”

All at once, you pull back. Whatevers on your face isn’t enough to make Eren waver when he looks at you. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes. Ocean blue, and full of something dark. Tempting like an abyss or a siren song. You swallow a lump in your throat.

“It’s something I’d do,”

The way Eren stares at you is so intense. You’re dancing around it now. What you both want to talk about it. A conversation that’s gone untouched for more than 4 years. Sober and aching. Different but the same.

Eren breaks the tension first. That’s twice.

“I’d cut my hair short if you asked me,”

You’re quiet.

“I’d do whatever you want,”

“Eren,”

“What?”

What do you say? Don’t? Please? What could you say that means more than his name in your mouth?

“You know what,” You say weakly “You know,”

A conversation you’ve had a hundred times before. It burns like bile rising in your esophagus. Crushed windpipes under the burden of love. Your hands grip the ends of the pillow tighter. He sits up straighter. You don’t want to talk about it.

“Do I?”

“Eren,” A warning.

“There’s not any point in talking around it, “ He shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie “Around this. Around us.”

“There is no us,” You correct sharply, shaking your head “Not anymore,”

His face doesn’t have anything you can read. You know yours must read of resentment. Eren is his usual blank.

“There could be,”

You shatter at the sentiment. The hopeful, easy way he says it. Like he doesn’t remember anything, and that you two are strangers. You know better that you aren’t. That no amount of healing can take it all back. Maybe you could forgive Eren, and somewhere far down the line - you could even be friends.

But us is impossible. You tried us. It blew up in your face.

“Fuck you for even saying that,” Your voice comes out garbled “Fuck you for even thinking it,”

“How is it fuck me? For wanting to fix our relationship, seriously?”

You hate him. With everything you have in you, with a burning fiery sort of anger. A resentment that’s spent years strangling you. Every time you’ve bitten your tongue, all the time you tried to fix it.

It’s all so messy and so unspeakbly touchy.

“The sooner you get it out of your head there’s a relationship to fix, the better off we’ll be,”

“Bullshit. Bullshit there’s nothing. I make you feel nothing?”

It’s not what you said. He knows that, but he means what he’s saying. And he knows your answer already because he’s like that. He already knows everything about you. Where to make you hurt, and how to make it sting. Eren is a scar, not a bruise. He stays, for as long as you’re alive. No matter how faint, or how healed - he stays a part of you.

He knows that as much as you do. That’s why it took you so long to leave. Of course you’d end up talking about it like this, but that’s not what you wanted. Or maybe it is. You don’t really know what you want from Eren. What you were hoping for when you stayed up late to talk to him and reminisce. You think just camaraderie.

“I hate you so fucking much,” You croak, wiping away angry tears “More than anyone in my life, I hate your fucking guts,”

“You don’t mean that,”

“I do,” Your reply comes in an angry hush “I can’t forget how we ended Eren. The months after I left were some of the worst of my life. Do you know how long it took me? To get better?”

His jaw clenches.

“I didn’t think you would leave,”

His confession stuns you into silence. His arrogance never fails to astound, Like this, it feels incredibly frustrating. Your stomach sours.

“...You thought I would stay? After everything?”

“You said you would,” He raises his voice this time. He sounds hurt. Angry. Sad. All things you didn’t know he could still feel “You—you fucking promised. It was supposed to be forever and you left first.”

“You can’t be serious,”

“You promised,”

“Yeah,” This time you sit up. Everything hits you at the same time “When I was 17 and in love. Before you treated me like shit,”

He winces. So he does know.

“You remember now, don’t you? You changed. You left for college, you stopped picking up my calls. You were such a fucking flirt that half of your campus thought you were single till I moved in. You remember that Eren?”

His silence makes you madder.

“You remember. right? How I’d desperately try and fix our relationship while you ran around doing whatever? You always looked so fucking indifferent. All we ever did was fight. Nothing I did worked,”

“Y/N—”

“I didn’t know anything other than you. If it was anyone else… But it was you,”

“I’m—”

“You used to tell me when we were kids that if any boy hurt my feelings, you’d kill him. You remember that?”

He closes his eyes.

“Don’t make it sound like I just up and left for nothing. We both know that’s bullshit,” You choke back a sob as you think about it. The gaping hole in your chest that Eren always left splits open again.

“I’ve always loved you. Always. From the minute I could walk and talk. I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, Eren,” Even now, you don’t want him thinking that “I left because you didn’t love me. I left because I realized that”

The silence that follows your rant exhausts you so much you slump back into the couch. You learned your lessons the hard way. That love was meaningless to safety. That stability was a luxury few can afford. Nothing is guaranteed.

This second time around, you know that love can’t be one-sided. Maybe that’s what all of this has been trying to teach you.

You cry silently, taking in deep breaths. You have no idea what he’ll say, and you don’t know if you care.

“I’m sorry,”

“....What?”

“I’m sorry,” His voice breaks a little this time. You don’t remember the last time you saw him cry “I didn’t mean for things to end like that,”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,”

You know it’s a mean thing to say. It’s not kind or forgiving. His sincerity doesn’t even feel real to you at the moment he says, but sorry doesn’t make you feel better. Sorry doesn't fix it.

“I know,”

“Then why say it?”

“I still love you,”

Drowning. You’re drowning in murky waters, hardly getting air.

“You don’t love me,”

“Don’t say that,” His voice sounds weak and desperate. You haven’t heard it like that in so long. Vulnerable “Even if you hate my fucking guts. I still love you, always did. Always.”

“Then why did you do that to me?”

“I was terrified,”

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Eren. Spoken to him, or even called him on the phone. Years. Checking on him through his social media and streams was all you ever got. Sometimes Armin would fill you in, or Mikasa.

But Eren, in your eyes, had remained how you left him. He got arrogant you think. He got his fix and grew up to be tall and handsome. Had aspirations and grew out of his shyness.

And instead of growing together, you grew apart. You started to accept the fact that the Eren you loved was no longer someone you could reach. The young, doe-eyed lovesick boyfriend. Eren was just a college boy now. Not your only exception, not the love of your life.

Accepting that was the hardest thing you’ve had to do in your life.

So why does he sound like someone you used to love? And why now, of all times?

“When you talk like that, it makes me think you’re different.”

“I am,” He stops for a minute, hands folded “I’m trying to be.”

“...Why were you scared?”

“It’s uhm, I don’t know how to say it,”

“Take your time,”

“Doing long distance made me realize how much I needed you,” His voice is hardly over a whisper. “It was ego. But I hated that. I had it in my head that you were off with other guys, and I—I don’t fucking know—I was stupid. I wanted to feel like you still wanted me,”

“So what? You made me chase you?”

“Yeah. Something like that. When you moved in, it just… I don’t know. I saw how everyone looked at you. I didn’t think it would make me so angry to see you like that,”

“Sounds like…”

“Self-sabotage,” Eren interjects “That’s what my therapist said, at least.”

“You’re in therapy?”

“Only a few months, but yeah. It helps.”

“I don’t understand you at all,” You shake your head “ Not at all,”

“You bring out the best and worst in me.” He replies with a humorless laugh on his lips “Still. Around anyone else, it doesn’t matter. What they do or don’t do,”

“And me?”

“You,” He rubs a hand over his face, voice shaking. He tries to be lighthearted but the sentiment is sincere “I make myself sick thinking about you,”

It feels hot under your clothes.

“We shouldn’t be… I shouldn't—”

“I know. You drive me so fucking crazy and I get so angry. I know, but how the fuck could it ever be anyone but you?”

Your breath hitches.

“What’re you saying?”

“That I want you. I want you so fucking bad. I don’t want to ever be away from you ever again. I can’t help but want that,”

You can feel him coming into your space. How he scoots closer to you, just enough that he’s moving across the couch. He’s so much bigger than you remember. Stronger. It's all moving so fast. When he puts his hand on your knee, you tense but don’t move. The dizzying smell of his cologne catches on your tongue and tickles your throat.

His eyes dart down to your lips. His hands running up your outer thighs. You’re defenseless. Weak, you pull back a little. He doesn’t move.

“I can’t just forgive you overnight—”

“I know,” He leans in a little more. Close enough that his breath touches your skin “I’ll keep trying. I want to try again. I’ll earn it this time. I’ll chase you, and you can ignore me all you want,”

He’s being cheeky as much as he’s being serious. Classically Eren. You’re so screwed.

You feel your throat close up as he inches forward.

“You’re so bad for me.” You whisper, the words too heavy.

“Two sides of the same coin,” He says back, then he smiles “We’re made for each other. You think that too. I know you do,”

“I wanted stability,”

“I’ll try to give you it. If that’s what you want.”

“And if you’re just a rebound?”

“As long as I’m yours,”

“You’re such a scumbag.”

“I know,”

Everything falls from under you the minute you kiss him.

A little noise of surprise leaves his lips that instantly morphs into desire. It’s an uncouth display of emotions, so animal that you can hardly call it love. It’s something in between love and hatred, the opposite of indifference. All the intensity of life, of every terrible emotion you’ve ever had. You kiss Eren Yeager first because you miss him, despite yourself. Everything after that is just another blurry detail.

He moans into your mouth. Where your hand has landed on his chest, he grabs your wrist and then drags you into his lap without ever breaking apart. You end up over him, with his lap under yours.

When he has you where he wants you, he hugs you close to his body. You can feel the hardlines of muscle through his shirt, his arms secure around your back. Your tits are pressed against his chest, bra forgotten. The slightest brushes are what make you feel the most.

Eren’s shaky breaths and the overwhelming way his lips move against yours. Indecision in how to treat you. Soft kisses that are followed by rough ones. The intensity of your own desire consumes your ability to act cordial, as you squeeze against Eren tight.

You can feel the rapid beat of Eren’s heart in his chest, grinding your hips into his.

In between kisses, he makes sure to nip at your jaw. You can feel his teeth pierce your pulse point, his tongue lapping over the leftover wound that leaves you shaking.

He litters bites like that on every inch of your skin, your neck left with an ache. There’s something ironic in Eren licking your wounds over, but the words escape you before you can utter them.

Even in just being claimed, the feeling is intense. It makes you visceral. Not to be worked up from touch or words, but something else entirely. Something cosmic in it’s very existence.

Eren finally pulls away from you, just barely to glance at your swollen lips. He meets your eyes as his teeth sink into the lower one to make you whine. He talks to you while your eyes are locked.

“Fuck,” His voice is thick with lust. Heat splits you right in half “Fuck, fuck, baby. Been so long,”

“Y-Your hands,”

“Can’t take em off you,” They’re smooth as they feel you up. Shamelessly squeezing the fat of your hips in between in his fingers, grabbing your ass hard. A guilt creeps up for comparing him to your ex-boyfriend.

But all you can think about is how Eren is the opposite of stability. Images pop up of when you used to have sex, so many years before. He was meeker before, less assured. You thought his confidence would make you sick, but it doesn’t.

Rather, the look on his face while he gropes you makes you wet. Chewing his lower lip, feeling your body like he’s dying to see it under his clothes. Impatiently and unabashedly wanting you in a way that is distinctly Eren.

There’s truth in the sentiment that no one could ever fuck you like Eren could. It’s one you’ve kept to yourself for so long that you almost forgot it. Eren knew your body and shaped it to his hands years ago. You like being touched because of how he touched you, a memory you carried like a torch.

It was Eren who wanted you first, who fucked you first, who made you cum first when you were both so awkward and clumsy.

“Look at you,” He groans. His hands inch under your shirt, skin on skin. Pinching your nipples gently, till they’re hard against your shirt “Look how sexy you are,”

He knows what you like, what you like being told.

“My pretty fucking girl,”

Fuck. Of course, he remembers that.

“Oh, you—”

“So pretty,” He parrots. Even with electricity buzzing in his movements, he’s patient. Undresses you gently. When your skins bare, your shirt tossed to the other side of the room, he kisses the underneath of your tits. Each one, he kneads them. Appreciates them, worships them. All of that undivided attention that he always used to give you when you were dating.

When you were in love.

“You still like when I tease ‘em too,”

His tongue runs over your hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth, His free hand occupies the other, taking time to give them both equal attention. Your body starts to ignite, little sparks of electricity flitting up your spine.

Letting your fingers card through his hair, you glance down. He looks up at you with his mouth full, eyes lidded. His lashes are long against his olive skin, sun freckles over the bridge of his nose. Your hands reach to touch the moles along his cheeks, all in places you remember.

You don’t resist the urge for intimacy. Not things you did with your ex, but with Eren. You press a kiss to his hairline and his hands get a little tighter. Your want expands, fills like a balloon.

Feeling his cock nudge against your shorts is surprising. A blush crawls over his face, grinding his hips up into you. It’s muscle memory to do it back - rocking yourself until he’s nestled between you. Dry-humping like this makes you feel like a teenager again, doing this in Eren’s dingy basement when you weren’t ready to lose your virginity.

Except Eren knows what he’s doing. He shifts his weight, sitting up enough to push up against your clit. His mouth deatches, a string of saliva in his place. The cool air against the swell of your tits make, adds to the sensation.

He grabs your ass again, this time just to push you up. To set a pace as you grind against each other.

“Wanna know something?”

You choke back a whimper.

“Mm,”

“I used to jack thinking about you,” His voice is slick when he speaks, a low whisper “Remember? You used to be too sensitive so you’d rub against the edge of your bed. Thought about it all the time after you told me,”

Your jaw drops open.

“You—”

“You’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Not too sensitive for this, but—,” He does it with more purpose, a long slow drag so you can feel his shaft against your clothed cunt “you still like it slow,”

“Eren, holy—”

“Everything you like,” He hums, this time matching how he moves you with his own body “Still remember every detail,”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah baby,” He dips his head to kiss against the column of your throat again, this time sucking deep dark hickies. You can feel his lips when you moan “Everything. Kept me company,”

You’re almost too afraid to ask what he means.

“Eren,” You half beg, fingers twitching with want “Don’t tease me,”

“What do you need?”

“Uhm,” Embarrassed. For some reason, Eren asking you is making you embarrassed. You’ve never been before “This is so humiliating,”

“You were always shy about asking for it,”

“So why’re you making me, asshole?”

“I like watching you squirm,”

“Shut up, you’re awful,”

“Put something in my mouth, then?”

Your eyes go wide, and he smiles. His breath brushes against the shell of your ear.

“You wanna sit on my face, right? Shut me up,”

It was a stupid arguement you had. At the latter half of your relationship, sometimes the only way you two resolved things was sex. Eren referencing it makes you mad as much as it makes you wet.

When you were both a little inebriated, he used to beg you for it.The memories of that make you nod. Your voice is coarse with lust.

“Wanna sit on your face,”

“Take your shorts off,”

Taking off your clothes is haphazardly done. You and Eren part ways. He takes off his shirt and hoodie to reveal a body cut from pure marble. He was always athletic, but clearly his gym rat posting on his IG story were genuine and not for show. He sends you a little smirk when he catches you staring, flexing his muscles a little.

“Do I look good?”

You nod, awestruck as you wriggle out of your shorts leaving you in just your socks. Eren does the rest slowly, stood up and taking off his sweatpants His thighs are muscular, strong with a little dark hair. It’s on his stomach too, just barely there.

The fabric of his boxers strain against his cock. It’s big, bulges against the black material that you can see the skin. It’s intimidating to look at.

Your eyes follow him to the couch. You watch him get comfortable, moving pillows around to make sure there’s enough space. He flashes you a smile when he’s laid down, untying his hair as a last touch.

“Come here, angel,” He signals, waving you over “Come sit,”

The air brushes past you as you approach him. He reaches a hand out to lace with your hands.

“Face that way. So you can hold onto my hair, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

It takes you a minute. It’s easier to climb over his chest, inching towards his face. When you’re spread right over his neck, he gives you a cheeky grin. His hands reach over your thigh, pulling you apart. His eyes are zeroed in on your clit, finger brushing back the hair on you. The affectionate way he does both makes you want to hide away.

Eren is holding you in place so you can’t move.

“Look at that,” He whispers, breath fanning your cunt “Look at how wet you got for me,”

Instead of putting his tongue where you need it, he cranes his neck to one side and presses kisses into your inner thigh. Licking at the skin, he holds your eyes.

“Tell me something,”He goes an inch highe and leaves a hickey before repeating it a little bit aove “Did he ever get you this wet? You can be honest,”

Your clit throbs between your legs. Eren grins, as you squirm. You look down at him, shaking your head.

“Not like you. I mean, he wasn’t bad but he wasn’t—”

“But he wasn’t me, was he?” He goes on, his lips pressing right against your achy clit, arousal on his lips that he licks with ease “Could never be me, could he?”

“Eren,” You whine. His smile gets bigger, tongue licking one long stripe against your folds.

“Say it baby. That I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

Your reply is a meek yeah. It’s hard to do anything with confidence or self-assurance when your entire body is begging to be pleasured. Eren gives you a few more kisses on your clit, like he’s making out with it. It’s sweet and lazy, making your hips buck for more.

“I’m the same,” He coos, sticking his tongue out as he forces your weight down so you’re not longer hovering but sitting on his face “There’s nothing like you,”

He doesn’t hesitate to dive in right after that. Burying himself deep, your hands immediately fix at the base of his hair. He’s not shy about it, his tongue laid flat, creating just enough suction around to feel. It’s perfectly pracited, familiar.

Eren eats you out from memory. That much is obvious to you as soon as you feel him, the wet heat of his mouth and his tongue. It’s a measured build of pleasure, soothing a long-time ache that slowly escalates to something more.

A mewl escapes your throat. He moans against your pussy, nose bumping against you. Tugging at the roots of his hair, you wiggle your hips to get him to give you more.

You feel the coil in your tummy when Eren goes a little deeper, sucks a little harder, moves a little faster. Encouraging you to use him to the best of your ability as he pushes your hips, nails dug in the skin to keep you steady Looking down makes you see him completely blissed out, like he’s in a comfortable dream.

You don’t really remember the last time someone went down on you like this without asking. Like he’s enjoying it all on his own, like he wants you. There’s vigor to how he takes you into his mouth, tastes you greedily, with appreciative grunts and groans.

The word perfect falls flat to how Eren licks your pussy. Perfect is too prim, too neat. Whatever Eren makes you feel between your legs, is far from perfect. Eren is something more. More intangible, hard to touch. He eats your pussy perfectly, but messily. Desperately, lovingly. Every inch of you is wanted, tongue nestled against your folds and on your hard clit like he wants to stay. He looks at you intoxicated and it shows in how much joy he takes in tasting you. Hitched to your very existence, like a planet revolving around the sun.

He does it like it’s a privilege, a divine gift. Sucks like it’s sweet, ripe fruit in scorching summers. Water in an oasis, deserving of only the highest praise. Not worth wasting even for pride. Shameless.

You can feel yourself tipping closer and closer to the familiar edge. Each second pushes you to it, closer and closer and closer before you feel the feeling again. Deep in your body, undoing you completely.

“Eren, oh—”

You cum hard. It’s the first one, the most intense. Eren is unyielding as you hit your high and start to fall back down, catching on each layer of the ozone. You moan his name over and over, Eren, Eren, Eren. It’s all you can think to say. The only person you’d trust to catch you from this high, you fall foward. Hand gripping on the couch, you try to wiggle away but he won’t let you until he’s had his fix.

When he pulls away, he takes in a deep breath.

You lean back, catching sight of his face. It’s dripping down his chin. He reaches his hands to wipe it with his fingers, then sticks his hands up to you.

“Open your mouth up,” He says, pushing his fingers against your tongue “Or come down here and clean me up, maybe?”

You widen your eyes. Curiosity getting the better of you, you wiggle down until you’re face level with him. He gives you a glance, encouraging you. Unsure, you push your tongue out against his neck, tracing down to his adams apple. He groans, voice vibrating.

“Fuck yeah,” His hands comes around the back fo your neck “Just like that baby. That’s perfect,”

Your memory reminds you. You repeat your actions, tongue dragging over his nec and chin, presses kisses and bites all along his jaw and neck. Eren moans above you appreciatively. The sound is pleasing. Hearing it over and over eggs you on to “clean” him up well until you reach his lips.

The way he kisses you is sweet and gentle. He kisses your lips before peppering them on your face.

“Fuck, look at what you’re doing to me.”

“Making you sappy?”

“Already was. I’m so hard for you right now, it’s fucking stupid,”

You let out a whine.

“Mm,”

“Condoms upstairs,”

“Don’t need ‘em. ‘s fine. Just give it to me how it is,”

He shivers against your body.

“I wanna cum just thinking about it,”

“Don’t think about it and come fuck me,”

He laughs, handing coming down on your ass.

“Get up,”

You stand up and Eren follows suit. He gives you a quick peck before whispering in your ear.

“Bend over the edge of the couch for me,”

Shivering, you nod your head and walk beind the couch. You shoot Eren a look over your shoulder, seeing him ease his cock out of his boxers to give it a quick stroke. It’s just high enough that you struggle to get over it all the way. His eyes are piercing, watching you as you bend over like he asks. You push your ass towards him.

“Like this?”

“That’s perfect, angel. Stay like that,”

You can hear him coming towards you. The weight of his body, bare chest against your spine is almost startling. He’s not crushing you, but you’re still completely pinned under underneath him. You wriggle your hips back, struggling to move.

His hand creeps lower and lower, finger slipping through your folds. He feels you up like that for a while, whistling.

“You’re so wet,” He coos. His voice is smooth in your ear. You moan. He rests his chin just over your shoulder as you turn your head to kiss him. Slowly, he slips his middle finger inside. You’re surprised how little resistance there is really. The pad of his finger reaches far, rubs against your g-spot without second guessing it.

Your squealing makes him do it again. It’s a careful move. Your body responds to him eagerly as he slips another one, steady. Until he’s knuckle deep, stretching out unhurriedly. When it’s no longer a tight fit, he pulls away from you.

Over you, he repositions. You can hear him spit in his hand behind you, the way his palms move against his cock. It’s all completely quiet besides that, lewd little noises that clue you into what he’s doing. Not seeing him makes the anticipation greater, leaves you vulnerable to whatever he wants to do.

“Missed this pretty pussy so much,” He hisses, the head of his cock pushing past your folds until he’s snug against your hole. The muscle clenches “So fucking warm,”

“Eren,”

He pushes forward, a calculated push of hips. You both moan when he enters you. Just the tip, just the familiar curve of his cock. Your inside ache, deep inside. A place only Eren could reach, you think. He groans nto your ear. Your feet are barely touching the floor in this position, Hardly reaching the ground, toes holding you up. The back of the couch digs into your stomach. It’s puts a pressure on your lower belly, that Eren must feel.

All your muscles are tense. Tight. The tip of his cock rubs against your walls. He’s so hard. Intrusive. You clench around him again. Jaw agape, you moan as he pushes even further.

“See that?” He whispers, against the shell of your ear. His hands grab yours, putting them behind your back till your defenseless “She remember me,”

The moan you let out is entirely involuntary once it hits you he means your pussy. Your walls spasm around him. He chuckles at that.

“That’s right. She loves me even if you don’t, doesn’t she?” Pulling his hips back until your empty, he fills you again. Harder this time. You choke on air “We made love tonight, didn’t we?”

“Eren, shit”

“I like when you say my name baby,” He says, another thrust “Like when your pretty pussy welcomes me home. It’s mine, isn’t it? Always has been. Bet he wasn’t making you feel like this, was he?”

All at once, you feel Eren for what he’s worth. You feel his cock, the curve and the shape the weight as it drags inside of you. You feel the weight of his body, all the stretch in your thighs as he casts over you like a shadow. The gravelly way that he speaks reverberating in your bones. He’s fucking you like he’s all the way in the bottom of your stomach.

Like a puzzle piece, Eren completes you on a level no one else in the world could. The way he talks to you reflects his, confidence not unearned. He’s cocky and awful, but his dick is doing this to you. Making your mouth fall open until your drooling underneath him. He answers every craving you ever had, that bone-deep sense of dissatisfaction that you’ve spent an entire year burying.

Eren fucks you like he’s in love with you, and only you. His cock kisses your cervix, and it feels like the same kind done at weddings. A vow to you, a promise. It feels so fucking good when Eren fucks you. Nothing in the world could ever quite comparing to that satisfaction. Deep in your body, primal and hungry.

“You were made for me,” He pants in your ear “Made just for me. No matter how far you go, I’ll find you. Remind you that. You get it now?”

You whimper out loud. Yes comes out naturally. Eren kisses your shoulder blade before sinking his teeth into it.

“Knew you would,

Eren fucks you the only way he’s ever known to. Deep and paced. You can’t say how he does it with anyone else, but with you it’s always been the same. Like he’s carving you out with his cock, the way you’ve always needed. You know you’re starting to be close again with each thrust. It’s a memory that your body welcomes.

Eren knows what you need to cum, but he waits. Like always, he keeps at it until your walls are tremor. Until you’re just getting there, and you need the extra push to get you to your end. He keeps you at the end as he fucks you, whispers filthy things in your ear until you reach the point of desperation that you’re begging.

“Please, Eren,” At your limit, pleaing “Please make me cum,”

“There’s the magic word,”

He snakes a hand around, reaching your clit and giving it a gentle rub. Everything happens at once. It’s perfect motion. Equilibrium. You can feel your knees start to give in as he gives it to you, the tension gently easing out. A carbonated soda, cracked open slowly to make way for the big finish. The release. Eren speaks to you again.

“Cum for me angel. Give it to me,”

Like a seismic wave, you cum hard on Eren’s cock just like he asked. He’s not far behind you, thrusting through the waves of pleasures. Your brain melts out of your ears completely, babbling to him to give you his cum too.

And he does in record time, shallowly rutting into you until you’re full of him, shooting deep. You feel your insides painted white, content at the feeling.

When he pulls out of you, you feel it drip onto his hardwood floors. You’re unsure of what comes next, but he pulls you right into your arms. Into his chest, even with wobbly legs.

“I’m not gonna let you go again,” He assures, more to himself than to you “You’re mine. Forever and always,”

Against your better judgement, you give in. Just for now. Just for the time being.

#eren x reader #eren smut #aot x reader #aot smut #writing tag #toxic cw #cheating cw

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carionto · 8 months

Text

We'll do it our way

Been reading a bunch of Humans are Space Orcs and the like, and got me thinking - what if when aliens found humanity and our level of technology and method of propulsion for space travel, they decided that since explosions are way too hazardous and risky, that they're just not gonna let us leave on our vessels (via BS alien magic space tech). As a sort of intergalactic rite of passing (and poor results in the past of elevating a species like that), we have to figure out on our own how to not blow ourselves up once in space. But humans can be spiteful. We "have" to go in a direction they want? Fuck that. Aliens put a dome around Earth so we can't leave? Okay, that's a clear and practical problem to solve. Let's fix that instead!

_____________________________________

It had been just over sixty local cycles since First Contact with Humanity, and exactly sixty since the Federation had unanimously deemed it necessary to position a Responsibility Barrier around Earth.

Through countless observation relays, mass field generators, warp inhibitors (and the less spoken of and even less used laser batteries), any vessel - outside of local communication satellites, unmanned research vessels, or suborbital test vehicles - were prevented from leaving the planet.

Upon discovering Humanity, the Exploratory Commission Fleet quickly discovered a very hardy, innovative, diverse, violent, and adaptable advanced civilization on the cusp of entering the interstellar stage. There was one problem. Humans used explosions. For. Everything.

Their orbital spaces were already littered with micro-debris from their regular ventures into the local system. Practically every type of propulsion utilized highly volatile solutions, and they didn't even pretend to hide or be embarrassed by their history of weaponizing, well, anything and everything to be frank.

Wars and violence were common among nearly all sentient species, but there was something… peculiar, about how nonchalant the Human diplomats were about their supposed "solutions" to "tragedies" of the past.

We explained to them the dangers of their methods, showed examples of what happens when such line of thinking, without discarding these explosive ways, leads to - impassable fields of junk around once well traveled planets, now isolated; hastily jettisoned parts causing mayhem and destruction years down the line; entire Habitation Stations and their occupants reduced to faint rings around their homeworld from an "unplanned ignition"

We explained why we could not simply give them our safe technology, as they have to on their own give up the irresponsible ways first, lest they turned what was once safe into yet another means to an end. They "said" they understood, but it was all too clear the Humans would not follow our advice just like that. Hence the Barrier. This really angered the Humans.

They said it was stifling, that it was barbaric to "imprison" them like that. We tried to explained again why, but they would not listen, but we knew better. This had happened before and we would not allow it to happen again. It was for the greater good of both the Humans and the rest of the Galaxy.

For nearly sixty of their cycles, Humanity continued to advance and develop and flourish. We watched them with excitement at every new avenue of research they steered towards, silently encouraged them to keep going with every failure. They were getting close in several fields, we could see that Humanity was on the precipice of the right track. Then, one day, with a slight shimmer enveloping the planet and an eerie silence on all frequencies, the Earth just… vanished.

The Humans kept their true activity a secret, only after careful analysis of seemingly unrelated and unremarkable records did we figure out they were investigating a long abandoned line of research by all others in the galaxy - interdimensional travel. But there were no other traversable dimensions. That had long been tested by everyone - you can twist and bend and cut through the ones we have, but you are always bound to at least one of them.

It remained a mystery as to what truly happened to Humanity. Officially it was called a tragic scientific accident on an unprecedented scale. Earth and Humanity were memorialized as a bright species with infinite potential, but a recklessness that would serve as one of the starkest examples in the annals of Galactic history.

Until, nearly a millennia later, Earth just… popped back in. Right where it would have been had it continued to orbit around their star, almost as if that's exactly what it had been doing.

There was only a memorial station close to its original orbit, and some small research outposts dotted around the local system - it was decided to not terraform or colonize any of Sol's planets or install major stations within the system, as both a sign of respect to the deceased and a warning to all about the dangers of foolish science.

By the time the scrambled and panicked messages reached the nearest Coalition world and a small squad sent to investigate, everything had changed. Not only did they find Earth and Humanity, they were met by dozens of the largest space worthy vessels anyone had ever conceived of let alone dared to construct; orbital shipyards that each would put the production capacity of whole planetary SYSTEMS to shame; and a defiant attitude unmatched even by the previously thought exaggerated tales of our brief history with Humanity before the Vanishing.

The message we received from the Humans was simple:

"Thanks for the advice, but we do things our way. Now, let's start over, from an equal footing, shall we?"

(more while we were gone)

#humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #carionto #story

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

Note

Could you do one for Checo with wife reader? He's not getting enough love. Just something fluff and romantic. You decide how it goes. Thanks!!

No es suficiente! Sergio Perez x ActressWife! Reader

Plot: Sergio having just married you wanted to show you of in the Red Bull Garage, but you feel so happy to be back after being so busy in your own career that everyone is dying to talk to you and someone gets a little jealous.

Credit to jamesvowles for the GIF

It was your first time back in the paddock for around a year. You'd been away for a large period of time, between filming for an up and coming blockbuster and being in an ongoing TV show you had a tight schedule and only was able to see your husband when he had breaks.

He helped you scan your paddock pass and then placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Are you excited?" he asks you as he looked over to you, the media noticed the pair of you walk through and were quick to snap pictures of your return to the paddock.

"Yes, I cannot wait to see everyone! I haven't seen Lance or Max in ages!" You admit, knowing you hadn’t really seen his friends in a while.

“Good!”

Before you know it you’ve been thrusted back into the world of F1, all the cameras and the people wanting to talk, the smells coming from the hospitalities and the cars. It was an introverts nightmare.

However, Sergio always knew you were a people person despite your social battery draining quicker than most people’s. You loved the hustle and bustle life that came with being on track and with Sergio.

Whether you were off chatting to Will Buxton about his latest Drive to Survive meme, or hunting down Crofty timo interrupt his grid walk, or chatting to the mechanics in the garage about the car, to finalise it all up speaking with Christian about Max and Sergio.

Today was a little different, you were feeling anxious where it was your first day back in a while. However the minute you and your husband walked into the garage he’d been whisked away along with Max by their race engineers towards the big bosses office.

You and Kelly not having seen each other in so long decided it would be nice considering it was media day and there was no actual racing if you guys rounded up some of the other wags and did a little shopping.

You guys ventured from Red Bull to some of the other paddocks on the hunt for the other girlies. You stumbled upon Lily, Alexandra, Rebecca and Kika who all decided they were down for some shopping to save the boredom that was media day.

You guys hit Milan central getting a train down from Monza. There were some fans around who excitedly asked for pictures. You guys all obliged before getting on with the day and going into the different high end stores.

By the end, you guys had taken the phrase ‘shop till you drop’ far to literally. You all travelled back to the hotel that you were staying in courtesy of the team in which their partner drove for. The bags were placed on the coffee table and sofa in the living area of the room.

Kelly had a separate room for her and P because she was doing a fashion show in Milan on the Monday and Tuesday after the races, so she had a lot of cases with her because of the clothes and shoes and just general space she would need. So when she invited you back for a girlie sleepover with her and P you couldn’t decline.

Sending a quick text to your husband who was still at the racetrack you left the room straight to Kelly’s which was only a few doors down. P answered the door which to Kelly’s dismay who was currently in the bathroom taking her makeup off before she could even get to the door.

“We don’t answer the door, it could have been a stranger Penelope!” She lightly scolds, the younger girl not caring to much and pulling you into a hug.

“Awwww hello P” you sigh hugging her back beofre picking her up and placing her on your hip.

“Are you going to let me do your hair tonight while we watch a Disney movie!” You ask and Ps eyes light up with excitement.

“Let me guess, the little mermaid?” You ask her and she nods furiously going towards the controller in the room to pull up what you assumed would be Disney +.

You spent the rest of the night with the daughter mother duo, doing facials, watching films and ordering an obscene amount of desserts from room service.

The next day you woke up and went to your room to see if Sergio would join you for breakfast but the room was empty, bed all screwed up and unmade showing you your husband had in fact come home last night.

You sit alone for breakfast which was nice, just to be able to think on your own thoughts for some time. Most of them being about your new movie, or the TV show and how to develop your character.

You took and Uber to the race track not wanting to be rudely late for FP1, wanting to support your husband. As you got there, running through the paddocks gates and mumbling profanities at the electronic gate which wouldn’t let you in after 4 attempts on your pass, you spotted Sergio.

“Hola, good night with Kelly?” He smiles at you, kissing your cheek lightly. You nod and open your mouth about to say something but his race engineer calls out for him pointing towards the garage entrance.

“Go, don’t want to be late on the job now!” You home and he just laughs lightly shaking his head before turning away and running out the the garage where his car was.

You stood with Kelly watching your boys drive. It felt like forever that Sergio was in the car, but again the minute he got out he was whisked away to a debrief with what went wrong with the car.

That was how the rest of the weekend went, whenever you had free time it felt like he was being taken away for important meeting, interviews and various media commitments and when he was free you were either on the phone with work or had organised to do something with the girls because you thought he was busy at that time but due to scheduling mixups he was actually free and refused to let you cancel on the girls.

It got to Sunday night after the race. Sergio had come in P2 behind Max and with Carlos just behind him. He’d had a great drive and you couldn’t have been prouder to celebrate his podium with him.

You were in the hotel room together, you’d just gotten out the shower and into night wear, he was laying on the bed, in his pijama pants and shirtless like normal.

You jumped onto the bed curling up into his side pulling him so as much as your skin was touching his.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you for ages mi amor” you voice before tilting your head that was laying in his chest to look up up him.

“Mmmmm No es suficiente!” He mumbles looking down at you. (It’s not sufficient!)

“What isn’t?” You ask perplexed.

“The time I had with you this weekend, not enough of it. I brought you here to spend more time with you and everyone didn’t want to see us together” he sighs pulling you closer with a pout on his face. On camera your husband didn’t seem like the clingy type but boy of boy was he.

“Argh you big baby, I’m not filming for another 5 weeks so your stuck with me all this time. This week was just unfortunate” you smile pulling him into a soft kiss which he quickly returns.

“God I missed this, just you” he smiles softly before pulling you into another kiss.

“Is this making up for it?” You offer smirking slightly knowing now that you were giving him the attention he was craving he was happy.

“Mmm im considering kidnapping you, so you have to spend all your time with me!” He groans pulling you over so your straddling him and laying in his chest on top of him.

“But who will be the lead in your current favourite TV show?” You gasp playfully.

“No way! Ellen Pompeo is leaving Greys?” He teases, knowing it would tule you up. You slap his shoulder lightly looking down at him.

“Mmmm im sure they could find someone to replace you if I kept you all for myself!” He teases again and you laugh this time.

“Mmmm and I’m sure if I kidnapped you Red Bull would too!” You tease back and he gasps in mock shock hand to his chest.

“Well seeing as we both seem to be staying respectively in our professions… I suggest we order room service!” You smile again, pulling him in for a kiss. He nods, rolling you off and getting up towards where the phone is on the desk. You watch as he used his hands to motion around as he talks to the receptionist on the phone.

You were so completely and utterly in love.

A/N: short and sweet! Hope you enjoy!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #sergio perez x reader #sergio perez #sergio checo pérez #Sergio Perez imagine #sp11 #sp11 x reader #Sergio Perez x you

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seat-safety-switch · 2 days

Text

Everyone is all up in arms about what kind of energy source will power the cities of tomorrow. Is it natural gas, the invisible menace that leaks out of shitty welds? Could it be nuclear energy, the thing that makes cool-looking cooling towers and rocks you're not allowed to touch? Or could it be simply harnessing the power of the sun and sticking them into a bank of batteries?

If you ask my local recycling depot, which is stuffed to the absolute gills with scrapped solar panels, the answer is "however many of these things you can carry." And since the power had been cut off at my place ever since my landlord didn't come back from that vacation, it's my answer, too.

Solar companies have been going out of business in my area, claiming that there are unforeseen problems to be solved in the "actually installing solar panels on customer homes" challenge. The venture capitalists who control them have basically decided that any obstacle at all is too many obstacles, and shut the companies down rather than spend five minutes trying to think of a solution, as you do when you have no useful value to society.

It didn't take me long to put these things on top of my house. Turns out that the bolts you need to mount them with are basically the same as the ones I'd been smuggling out of the Pick N Pull in my pockets for the last few years. Something new called "met-ric." A couple spritzes of shoplifted Windex later to clean up the cells, and we were making enough electricity to cook any squirrel that was stupid enough to climb onto my roof.

At first, everything was going great. I could now microwave burritos, and probably other kinds of things if you labour under the pointless delusion that there are any other things to eat that are better than a burrito. Then the sun went down, because it was night. Now having been cruelly denied the thing I only just recently became accustomed to, I began to freak out.

That's when it hit me. Batteries were the answer. Energy storage.

Thanks to the local Wal-Mart and their incredibly lax loss-prevention department, I now have electricity 24 hours a day. All I had to do was shoplift enough flashlights, AA batteries, and duct tape to make it through the night. Sure, it's a pain crawling up there every evening to tape the flashlights onto the panels and make sure they have fresh batteries, but to be honest I would be up here every night trying to knock all the charred wildlife off the wires anyway. Don't you rodent bastards know that I'm trying to save the environment up here?

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robfinancialtip · 3 months

Text

Kaaren Thompson, from @KarmaDogSpeak, has highlighted the exceptional features of the Halo Collar 3, emphasizing its suitability for outdoor activities.

One of the standout features of the Halo Collar is its Pro Case, rendering the dog collar completely waterproof. The collar has undergone rigorous testing, including submersion, swim trials, and saltwater assessments, ensuring its resilience in various conditions. Whether your furry friend is braving the elements or taking a refreshing swim, this GPS dog collar is up for the challenge. Additionally, including a magnetic charging port (compatible with USB C cable) facilitates convenient charging and acts as a protective barrier against dirt and water, safeguarding your valuable investment.

The Halo Dog Collar allows dogs to roam off-leash, allowing them to explore and partake in outdoor activities while offering peace of mind to their owners. It epitomizes Dog Freedom to Roam. The Call-Back feature is another noteworthy aspect, enabling you to remotely summon your dog back to you if they venture beyond the virtual GPS boundaries you've established, providing an extra layer of safety.

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✅ New PrecisionGPS(™) Technology ✅ New Active GPS Antenna ✅ 24-hour Battery Life ✅ Auto-connect to Any Cellular Network Worldwide ✅ New Perfect Fit System ✅ Magnetic Charging Port ✅ New Colors: Orchid and Sunburst

NEW COLORS Halo Collar 3 is available in 4 vibrant colors: ✅GRAY ✅BLACK ✅ORCHID🆕 ✅SUNBURST🆕

CHECKOUT KAAREN’S SOCIALS YT: @KarmaDogSpeak IG: instagram.com/karmadogspeak TT: tiktok.com/@karmadogspeak

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reikaryu · 4 months

Text

real eyes (realise) ft. minghao

pairing : xu minghao x gen!reader

summary : that moment it all made sense to you.

genre : drabble, fluff

warning(s) : a huge party with potentially drunk people, reader panics at some point, not proofread, 607 words

requested by @piakae : hi raebae! could you do a ‘moment of realisation’, reader and someone (you can choose idm) have that silent moment, maybe something dire happened, maybe something happy happened, and they just have a moment looking at each-other across the room realising they’re the only people for each other. can be friends to lovers or just lovers idm!! love you 😘

you’re only laying in his lap, body resting sideways to comfortably watch your favourite show on the television, when you remember the night so many moons ago.

one of his hands’ fingers are threading through your hair absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the screen before him. his other hand is stationed on your elbow, thumb rubbing circles at irregular intervals.

the coffee table between the television and the couch has two glasses of water on it, one with tiny droplets of water on the outer surface. both your phones are lying next to each other, screen dark as a result of your “do not disturb” modes turned on.

the room is dim; curtains drawn and the only source of light coming from the kitchen. the evening is a little chillier than usual, and when a slight wind blows, minghao senses your shiver and casually drapes his jacket over your frame — the very one he pulled from his closet just in case you got cold.

you smile.

──────

you were panicking, unable to think straight as you pushed through the overcrowded dance floor to search for the person who brought you to this party in the first place — also inconveniently the only one you knew.

you felt tears pooling in your eyes and you but your lip, willing them not to come out. you never did good in such a place with so many emotions and people. honestly, you thought minghao was like you, reserved and preferring to stay at home than go to a huge gathering.

but, yet again, you were wrong, because if he was like you, he’d still be by your side, anxiously whispering in your ear about the unusual amount of people he couldn’t recognise.

you sighed, alas giving up, and you began making your way toward the exit. a moment later, you realised how far into the room you ventured, having passed by too many couples or situationships dancing to count. the exit sign was now just a bright green line that constantly urged you to go towards.

your journey to the exit was, as expected, tough. you tried not to separate the couples having their fun with each other, no doubt making you uncomfortable along the way. you also tried to avoid those holding drinks, uncaring of whether the liquid spilled over the edge of the cup onto someone else.

god, you would never go to a party ever again.

you might have been half way there when you swore you heard someone call your name. but you ignored it, blaming it on your depleting social battery and overall energy. then you heard your name again, and this time it sounded desperate.

you heard it three times before you turned around, searching for the source. you couldn’t not be hallucinating — no one here knew you, as far as you could remember. except minghao.

oh.

your eyes widened suddenly, as if you saw a dead body come to life. they locked with a familiar pair, so close but so far. minghao was looking at you with all the worry in the world, and you swore you could see some silver lining his beautiful eyes. ones that seemed to hold the galaxy.

that moment could have made it to the top ten most cliché scenes in real life. two people staring at each other like they held the world in their hands.

your face held relief and joy. his was full of distress and longing as he pushed through the crowd. the very second you were in reach, he pulled you towards him and held you tight. you felt a tear drop onto your head.

happy new year everyone !! now that my school term has started, I’ll be a lot more inactive but I’ll try to post a fic once in a while :) blessing all of you with a great year ♡

taglist : @i520cm @piakae @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @f3v3rs @wonwoospartyhat @lesdevoeux @wonuulvr @svtcaratlove @amazingly-amazing-loser @ckline35 @woozarts @famouspoetrydinosaur @kokoiinuts @ahnneyong @kawennote09 @jcngh0-hq @marrgohh @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @sun-daddy-yoriichi @humankimbap @skztutu @bangtancritterrrr

if your username’s been listed here but you didn’t receive the notification, please check your visibility settings !!

#caratsland #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #minghao scenarios #minghao imagines #minghao reactions #minghao x reader #minghao fluff #minghao fanfic #xu minghao #seventeen #raena mini writes #raena’s requests

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intuitive-divinations · 11 months

Text

Are you in the mood for love? 😘

Hello darlings😙! I got a new gorgeous oracle deck today😻! It’s art inspired me to do a tarot spread on your next relationship❤️‍🔥. Take a few deep breaths 😮‍💨 and use your intuition 👁️ .

✨ Pick - A - Photo ✨

Picture 1 🌹

#26 Full Spectrum, 4 of Coins reversed, 5 of Cups, 4 of Swords, Ace of cups

Group 1, can I give you a hug first ? 🫂. Omg it seems like you’ve been going through it when it comes to your relationships😭. I sense that you gave so much of yourself to a past relationship such as an ex or situationship, etc. Now you’re feeling the loss of yourself/resources you gave. I’m seeing your energy is a battery and it’s EMPTY 🪫 . I get the feeling that this past person was deceitful in some ways. That deceit motivated you to isolate yourself and have a negative view on love. It honestly feels like you’re somewhat lonely group 1🥺. On the brightside, your next relationship will fulfill all your wants and desires. Maybe you’re past person cheated on you? I’m hearing your next person is VERY LOYAL and they’d never do you like that 💀! They literally only have eyes for you. This person also won’t be afraid to display their love for you whether it’s in public or private. They could have alot of Leo/fire placements ♌️ 🔥 . They’re going to be proud to have you🤭. Your spread is also telling me that you have to look at the bigger picture of this situation. Understand that these past failed relationships are only preparing you for the best. No more giving 100% of your love and getting only 5% back. It’s making sure that you attract someone new who is willing to make you a priority and show you how to be loved. 😮‍💨❤️‍🔥

Picture 2 🌹

#30 Healing, 7 of Swords, Ace of Wands, The Devil, The Magician

Whew 😮‍💨! Group 2 your next relationship is so co-creative 🧬 . Your next person is going to be a source of healing for you. I actually sensed angels during this reading 😇 . I got goosebumps all over my body when I asked to feel their energy as confirmation✅. You’re very protected group 2! I’m seeing that your angels are guiding you towards someone who might actually be a healer on earth 🌎 . I’m picking up on reiki masters, shamans, breathwork specialists, etc. They could also be a doctor but they would be different in some way. For example, instead of western medicine they could specialize in Ayurveda or traditional Chinese medicine. I got curious and asked what your next person will help heal within you and it said your attachments⛓️! You have some very addictive/obsessive attachments. It could go from physical attachments like drugs or it could be mental attachments like self-sabotaging beliefs etc. Regardless of what it is, your next person will trigger your healing🪬. They’ll help you discover your highest potential. It’s going to suck because you’ll be forced to overcome these things but it will be worth it in the end! 🪄Your person has a beautiful energy and it feels like they are a gift from your spirit team 🎁 . After your healing journey you could start a business venture with this person or even have children. You’ll be creating alot of things with your person🗝️. This is definitely going to be a journey for you so buckle up. 11:11 could be significant.

Picture 3 🌹

#25 Freedom, 6 of Coins, 10 of Coins, The Hermit, 3 of Wands

Group 3, y’all are my sugar babies😚! Get ready because you’re next person has alot of sugar to give🤣. They are going to offer you financial freedom. You’re next relationship is going to be with a rich person who’s very GENEROUS! They don’t mind spreading the wealth because they have a lot of it. One word to describe your persons personality would be introvert. Literally, their daily routine is getting that money and then going home and relaxing🏠. They really don’t play about getting their money💀. Taurus/Virgo placements could be significant ♉️ ♍️ . Right now your person may feel kinda lonely. They aren’t really a social party person. They still want someone to have fun with though. Someone they can create memorable experiences with🧳. Traveling is also significant🧭. I’m seeing so many trips and vacations. You are EXACTLY the person they’ve been desiring. You both will be goofy together. Im seeing that your relationship is also full of laughter. I feel like this person is manifesting you subconsciously. They are an extremely powerful manifestor. They could’ve even subconsciously manifested their wealth😳. I’m imagining their energy as a magnet 🧲. You’ll have a day where your normal routine is messed up which will then cause you to meet this person unexpectedly. Yeah they are quite literally going to manifest you into their life💀because they don’t want to change their own routine. Also you and your next person could have an age gap 🙈. Angel number for this group is 222.

Thanks so much 😽 !!

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

Text

Whumpuary Day 17-18

Prompt: Headache (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

You had not been home long when Daryl came shuffling through the door. He had gone on a run, leaving at the ass-crack of dawn but they were back by early afternoon with two boxes of medical supplies as fruits of their labor. Then he had been helping to move the solar panels and work on the battery hookup with Eugene. You were certain he was thrilled about that.

You knew he hadn’t stopped; hadn’t told anyone he needed a break. It’s just who he was. Help until the job was done. It was a given that he’d be exhausted. You’d let him relax, maybe shower, while you made a quick dinner.

Except… he stumbled after closing the door, the tips of the fingers on his left hand pressed against his temple. He didn’t so much as wave before depositing himself face first onto the couch, long legs hanging over the edge of the cushions. If it wasn’t so out of character for him, you’d find it comical.

“Uh, hi.” You leaned into the room before actually entering. “Rough day?” There was a muffled mhm. “Hungry?” Another muted answer, but this one was mm-mm. God, you wanted to laugh, but that would need to wait until you found out a little more about why your boyfriend came home and immediately attempted to suffocate himself on the living room furniture.

You knelt slowly, rubbing your hand over the warm leather on his back. You were pretty sure the next noise was a sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ventured, probing a little more while leaving space in between questions so as not to irritate the archer. You thought he might have said super and was a bit dry, but it was hard to tell with the thick fabric pressed against his face.

You shifted to properly sit on the floor, moving your hand in random patterns over his back. Maybe if you were patient, he would decide air was a good thing and sit up to enjoy it. You didn’t have anywhere else to be. It took about five minutes for him to very slowly roll his head toward you, expression drawn and eyes squinted. Uh oh. Your Dixon sense was tingling.

“What’s wrong?”

He visibly attempted a scowl but gave up after only a brief effort. “Head.”

Oh, the jokes you could make. Not the time, Y/N.

“Headache.” It wasn’t a question. It was blatantly obvious after he’d given you a clue. Judging from his flushed skin and the tension nearly vibrating over his form, it was a bad one. “Okay, just a second.” Daryl didn’t normally get headaches, so you were unsure how to treat one in a man that never complained and despised feeling weak or vulnerable. As you pulled the shades and closed the curtains, you glanced back at him.

Weak was a fitting word. If a herd plowed through right now, he’d probably thank them when they started to eat him.

With the room sufficiently darkened, you crouched in front of him, brushing his hair away from his eyes with a barely there swipe of your fingertips. “I’m going to go get a few things for you. Just relax here until I get back.”

“S’okay.” He mumbled, his arm falling away from where it had been tucked at his side. He let his hand hit the floor with little care. “Don’ need ta go outta yer way. M’good.”

A tilt of your head and tender smile should have been enough of a response, but just in case it wasn’t. “You know better than that. Sit tight.” You backed away from him in case he was about to offer any other objections but he surrendered and turned his hand with a thumbs up.

You made a list in your head as you shuffled around the house. Pain killers. Tylenol would be okay but you were hoping for one of the stronger ones he’d been given when he’d broken his ribs. He was just as stubborn then so there were probably at least a couple left.

While on your search, you were passing by other things you needed. Washcloths. The small basin that you reserved for cleaning him up when he came home bloody. And eureka! Pills!

You contemplated getting him some comfortable clothes but the less he moved right then, the better. As an afterthought, you toed off your boots, quieting your steps significantly when you descended the stairs. If he noticed you bypassing him to disappear into the kitchen, he didn’t voice it. He’d need a glass of water to take the pills though you were certain he wasn’t beyond swallowing them dry. You filled the basin with cool water as well and strategically balanced your burden while padding back into the living room.

Placing the items on the end table, you leaned down to press the most gentle kiss to the crown of his head. His eyes were closed but you were almost certain he wasn’t asleep.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to move around for just a minute and then you can stay still as long as you want. Deal?”

“Don’ wanna.” He groaned, reminding you very much of a grumpy toddler. Your hands drifted to his shoulders, pulling up as gingerly as you could to motivate him.

“Come on.” His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched against the throbbing in his skull. Those things were counterproductive when dealing with a headache but if you could get him to take the pills and lie down more comfortably, maybe he’d relax a little. “I got the leftover strong ones so this should start helping pretty quickly.”

“Okay.” He was so quiet and looked so small at that moment. You wanted to wrap him up and hold onto him forever. He held out his palm and you handed over the medication, barely getting the glass in front of him in time for him to swallow with the water.

“Okay, now you get pampered.” You crawled to the far end of the couch next to your supplies and sat, patting your thighs. “Your pillow awaits, handsome.” You were barely able to stifle the giggle when he rolled his eyes before promptly pressing his palm against his forehead with a drawn out whine of ow.

He stayed silent while stretching out on his back, his head resting on your lap. You smiled down at him while one hand dipped cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess.

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.” You were gentle and careful when lifting his head slightly to place the cool cloth over the back of his neck. He winced at the movement regardless, making you frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He murmured, but you still felt a pang of guilt.

The second cloth now wrung out, you folded it and placed it over his eyes. When he melted deeper into the couch with a sigh, you grinned triumphantly. That part out of the way, you pressed two fingers, gently but firmly, against each of his temples and began massaging the area. You could feel the pulsing there, so too much would not be beneficial. You began to alternate between that and carefully scratching your fingernails over his scalp to stimulate blood flow.

After no more than five minutes, before you even needed to rewet the cloths, he was softly snoring on your lap. Still, you continued, determined to make sure the headache was gone before stopping.

An hour later, you had removed the cloths and stopped massaging. Your fingers carded idly through his hair as he slept. He had turned onto his side and pressed his face into your stomach, not a single line of pain left showing.

Daryl so seldom got to relax that seeing him like that and just being able to take it all in was something you found you wanted to do over and over again. Maybe you’d start being more appreciative of the time you could spend watching him sleep in the moonlight from the bedroom window. You knew that was going to be your new favorite bedtime ritual.

A deep breath drew you from your thoughts and back to him, his eyes fluttering but barely opening.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He whispered against your shirt, back asleep before you could reply.

“Anytime, love. Anytime.”

@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47 @easystreet07

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno9 #headache #alt prompt #the walking dead #fic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #murda writes #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl

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rocorambles · 7 months

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Final Girl: Act I

Pairing: Daichi x Reader x Kuroo

Tags: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Consensual Drugging, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Daichi and Kuroo being grade A creeps

Summary: If only you hadn’t been so focused on intently staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid those piercing hazel eyes, maybe then you would have noticed the momentary smug cold gleam in those deceptively kind brown eyes as the two men exchange a glance.

Link to Final Girl: Act II

You are a complete moron. Torn between screaming and crying, you let out a strangled sound between the two as you furiously clench your fists around your now useless steering wheel. It’s almost laughable how cliche the situation you find yourself in is. You can even see the imaginary script in your head.

Scene: Girl in broken down car, cell phone out of battery, stuck in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road, torrential downpour

You’ve always rolled your eyes in annoyance at the dumb damsels in distress you’ve seen on screen, all in predicaments easily avoided if they had used a single ounce of common sense. And now here you are, just like them, all because you had stupidly scoffed at the numerous warnings about the inclement weather.

What harm could a little more rain than usual do? Apparently, a lot.

Weighing your options, a brick of disbelief and hysteria swells and sinks inside of you. There’s no way you can stay in this car. Even if you wait out the flash floods and stormy nightmare outside that looks to have no end in sight, you’ll still have a broken car and dead cell phone with no city or town anywhere near walking distance. You’ll need to venture out into the forests that surround you on either side in hopes of stumbling upon a cabin with kindhearted folks who’ll help you out.

It’s not a long shot that you’ll find some nearby residents. Despite this area being off the beaten track, you know there are plenty of people who’ve migrated here in search of a quieter and more remote life. You yourself had ventured out here for a long weekend solo getaway to rest and reset (the premise of this whole unfortunate scenario). But that doesn’t stop that same stereotypical script from playing in your head as you anxiously exit your car and delve into that intimidating expanse of greenery.

Scene: Girl walks into the woods, disappearing out of view from the road, only the stillness and silence of the forest left in her wake

You grimace as mud squelches under the weight of your steps, as floods of water stream down your face. Your one saving grace is that at least there’s still daylight to guide you, but even that is quickly dwindling as the sun continues to set. Anxiety laced with fear begins to claw at you as darkness begins to spread.

How long have you been searching? How far are you from your car? Do you even know where you are? Are you lost-

Your body stiffens in shock as your frantic eyes see a glow of light up ahead and your frenzied thoughts are cut short by adrenaline as your legs scramble forward before your brain can catch up, stumbling towards that literal ray of hope you see in the distance. Relief washes over you as the sight of a cabin becomes clearer the closer you get to your destination and primal instincts take a back seat as you slow down, cautiously assessing your surroundings.

It certainly doesn’t look like a murder house. In fact you’re almost in awe at how chic and charming the “cabin” in front of you is with its sleek black rustic yet modern structure nestled among a gorgeously curated landscape. The inhabitants certainly had taste and money, but you know better than to immediately equate to being “good”. Do you take the risk of ringing their doorbell?

Life makes that decision for you and your heart pounds in terror at the feeling of a hand grabbing your shoulder, head spinning to locate the source only to be locked in a staring contest with sharp hazel eyes.

“My, my. What do we have here? A little chick separated from her flock?”

You shudder as the low slow drawl of his words slither unpleasantly against you, an interested predatory lilt in every syllable. This was a mistake, you need to get out of here, run-

“Kuroo, what’s taking you so long- Who’s that with you?”

So distracted by the sudden stand-off, neither of you had noticed the cabin door opening or the approaching figure of the man now curiously observing the two of you.

Kind brown eyes worriedly look at you, a crease of concern furrowing between brows as the new stranger takes in your drenched state and before you can utter a word, a warm hand gently but firmly wraps around your wrist, leading you inside.

You know it’s foolish to let yourself so easily be swayed, but even if you were to run, you doubt you could outrun the two seemingly fit men. Not to mention how your gut is screaming that “brown eyes'' is a far safer option than the man whose hazel eyes are now staring in annoyance at the two of you, not unlike a cat whose prey has been snatched from him, as he glowers and trails behind you causing you to subconsciously hover close to your savior.

If only you hadn’t been so focused on intently staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid those piercing hazel eyes, maybe then you would have noticed the momentary smug cold gleam in those deceptively kind brown eyes as the two men exchange a glance.

Scene: Girl enters a stranger’s house

Daichi (brown eyes) and Kuroo (hazel eyes). You now have names to match with the faces. Childhood friends who had decided the hustle and bustle of city life wasn’t for them and had bought and renovated this property together. Freshly showered in a set of Daichi’s spare t-shirt and shorts, basking in the warmth of the fireplace, stomach filled with a delicious meal cooked by the two men, a glass of red wine in your hands, you wonder what you were so scared of. Even Kuroo seems harmless, if infuriating, as Daichi and him teasingly bicker with each other about their mutual friends and shared memories they had growing up together.

The weather had knocked out most of the power in the area leaving you without wi-fi or a way for you to charge your phone and with the roads as flooded and inaccessible as they were, there was little hope of a tow truck being able to take care of your car anytime soon. But you don’t mind the idea of having to stay a few days longer in this cozy cabin if this is how you’ll be pampered. Taking another generous sip of the ruby red liquid in your glass, you wonder how you can repay the two men. Maybe you can help them cook tomorrow…

Scene: Girl accepts a drink from a stranger

Ever the gentleman, Daichi is there to catch you as your body goes limp.

Kuroo snorts at the chivalrous display, but it doesn’t stop him from eagerly drawing near as he follows the broader man who bridal carries you up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

There’s no need for how gentle Daichi handles your body as he lays you on soft sheets, not with the dosage Kuroo had slipped into your wine. But he’d always been more careful with his toys, unlike the man next to him who is practically clawing off your clothes, his long lean frame already pinning you beneath him.

He can’t really blame his companion though. How long had it been since the last warm body they’d shared? The last foolish prey who’d naively walked right into their trap? So he just patiently watches as Kuroo eagerly partakes of you, only making warning comments here and there when the taller man is close to leaving too many marks that won’t be easily explained tomorrow. And when he’s done, your essence dripping from his mouth, your nipples and clit perky and begging for more attention, trails of Kuroo’s cum littering your body, it’s Daichi’s turn and he carefully savors you, relishing in how sensitive and responsive your body is even if your mind is far, far away, blissfully ignorant of your current predicament.

Scene: Girl is taken advantage of.

You groan, head throbbing, the daylight sneaking through the curtains doing nothing to alleviate-

Wait, daylight?

Momentary panic sets in as your mind whirls to remember what had transpired, eyes taking in the strange room you’re occupying.

Had you…drank too much? But you could have sworn you only had a couple of glasses… Maybe it was just the exhaustion from the trying night you had?

Your thoughts are interrupted by knocking on your door and you instinctively tense up as a head of spiky black hair peeks out at you. Despite the questionable first encounter the two of you had, you had convinced yourself that it was just a misunderstanding, that Kuroo was just a little more crude and rough around the edges than the average person. After all, if someone as kind as Daichi was close to him, surely Kuroo couldn’t be so bad, right?

But now that it’s just the two of you again, no Daichi to act as a comforting barrier, apprehension freezes you as Kuroo ambles towards your vulnerable figure still tucked underneath bed sheets. You swear there’s hunger in those hazel eyes and you shudder under his gaze, feeling it rake across your body, shivering at how small you feel as he towers over you when he reaches you, his legs pressed against the bed frame, upper body teasingly leaning over you.

“Some water for Sleeping Beauty.”

Technically he’s not touching you, but that thought does nothing to comfort or protect you from the heat of his body or the vibrations of his words as he practically cocoons you, going out of his way to almost embrace you as he uses the act of carefully placing a glass of water on your side table as an excuse. But before you can even react, he’s already pulling away, a self-satisfied smirk splayed on his face.

“Prince Charming is making breakfast. Come down when you’re ready.”

As your thoughts race with the conviction that you need to do everything you can to escape this place, Kuroo hisses in satisfaction, calloused hand palming the growing bulge in his pants outside your closed door. Fuck, if only you knew how delectable you look, trembling, scared, at his mercy. He can still taste you on his tongue, his cock twitching as it remembers how perfectly your walls had wrapped around it. And he wants more.

Time to wrap this little play up.

End of Act 1.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere daichi #yandere daichi x reader #tw: rape #tw: somnophilia #tw: drugging #kuroo smut #daichi smut #haikyuu smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Don't Speak 37

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Get ready for Andrew Barber's masterclass in manipulation.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Your disbelief gives way to panic. You gulp and gasp for breath as you collapse onto the carpet, hugging yourself as you sink into horror. You’re repulsed by your own body, trapped in your own skin. A monster. Just as horrible as you always suspected.

Selfish, worthless, thoughtless. Your doubts calcify to certainty. You are a bad person.

But you don’t want to be. You never wanted to be. How can you be so terrible despite your best efforts? You have to be better. You have to try harder.

You heave and lift yourself on a shaky arm, rubbing your damp cheek as you sniffle and look around. Your head throbs but you won’t be sleeping that night. The violent churning in your stomach won’t let you. You don’t deserve to rest. You have too much to do.

You get up on tremulous legs. You find it hard to balance as the swirling haze of wine turns to a groggy pulsing in your temples. You massage them as each step sends a thump through your skull. You try to shake it off but it only gets worse.

You move carefully. You did this to yourself. You drank even after Andy warned you not to. You ignored him all day like a spoiled child. You did whatever you wanted and then you… hurt him.

You start with the kitchen. It’s already tidy from Amber’s help but you wipe down the counters to be certain, then you get out the mop, leaning heavily on it as you sponge the tile to sparkling. You move on to the dining room; surfaces, floors, and even the curtains. You sus out every speck of dust and dirt.

You find yourself sitting, folded over as you cradle your head and catch your breath. You’re weak and shaky but you keep going. You get up and return to the front room. You give pause before the couch, the throw pillows knocked this way and that, one on the floor. You tidy them and refold the blanket on the back neatly.

It’s too late to vacuum but you do your best to sweep around the edge of the carpet. You go to the mantel and straighten the ornaments that seemed to distract Steve that day. You stop at the thought of the doctor and nearly sob. What do you tell him? How do you tell him what you did? He would know what you are. What would he think?

Your teeth chatter despite the warm air. It’s not the temperature but your own fatigue that sets you to shiver. You carry on, making a careful progress through the large house. You suffer over every inch. You don’t know how else to show your remorse but to make everything perfect. Everything but yourself. You will never be perfect, you are inextricably broken.

The dawn rises and you let yourself rest in the bathroom. You rinse your face in cold water, trying to wake up. You take some painkillers for the beating in your skull and grip the sides of the sink, weary and worn.

A flicker catches your eye. You glance over at the white shower speaker. He must’ve replaced the batteries. You stand straight and roll your shoulders back. You’re not done. You will never be done. This task, not the cleaning, no, but you, trying to fix you, that’s something you’ll always have to work on.

You go back to the hall and stop short. You peer down towards the bedroom door; Andy’s. It’s silent and the edges are dark. You shudder out a breath and cross to the guest room.

You enter the solemn space and search for a new outfit. You pick out something he bought for you, that you know he’ll like. You tuck a white blouse into the brown corduroy skirt that buttons up the front. You match the outfit with a pair of stockings to warm your tingling legs.

You emerge, feeling stronger but hardly better. You descend the stairs, his silence and the stillness of the house suffocating you. You drag your feet into the kitchen and tie the apron on as you begin. You take out one of the cookbooks and search for the perfect breakfast.

The hours pass swiftly as you set to work. You focus on each ingredient, each step, as you put together the pieces. A quiche with the most perfect savoury crust. The scents rising around you tug on your stomach, the dregs of wine leaving your stomach barren and acidic.

You brew coffee and put together a tray. A mug, a plate of quiche, fruit salad, napkins, and cutler. You balance it all and turn to the long journey upstairs. It feels like a treacherous path. You fear you might not reach your destination and you wouldn’t be surprised if you’re turned away.

You stop at Andy’s door, like the gates of some vaunted castle, and swallow down your fears. You knock with your foot, careful not to cause too much of a clatter. No answer comes as you stew in the silence of the large house.

You turn your shoulder to the door and lean in, “Andy?”

Your call wilts into the still air and you wait. You clear your throat and try again, speaking louder this time. The crackle of your voice is harsh amid the empty lull. You listen, a rustle coming from the other side, and a sniffle.

Your heart catches in your throat as you face the door head on. The lock clicks as the handle turns back and a small slat of space opens between the edge and frame. Your eyes meet Andy’s single on, peeking out sheepishly.

“Good morning,” you try to be chipper, “can I… I brought you breakfast.”

He stares and blinks. His gaze falls to the tray in your hand. There’s a glisten across his iris.

“Andy,” you sniff, “I’m very sorry about last night.”

He closes the door and you stand dumbly in your dejection. You look down at the tray. You’re stupid to think food could solve the problem. That you could ever apologise thoroughly for your offence. You can’t take back what’s been done.

You take a step back but stop again, the tray rattle treacherously as the handle twists back again, this time with more force. Andy still wears the same clothes as the day before. His hair is dishevelled, his beard with short shanks jutting out at the chin, as he keeps his face down. With slumped shoulders, at a slight angle, he stands back.

“We can talk,” he utters in a fractured timbre. He sounds like he’s been crying.

You bow your head and step into the room. You go to the console table and lay the tray there as it starts to shake with your nerves.

The bedsprings compress as he sits with a heavy sigh. You keep your back to him as you try to sort out the pangs in your chest and stomach. You turn slowly on your heel. As he sits on the side of the bed, the glare of the lamp illuminates his features and the dark bruising along the left side. His eye is almost entirely swollen shut.

You gasp and cover your mouth. He keeps his eyes down meekly, as if trying to hide. You can’t believe you did that to him. How could you have done that? With just one hit?

“I’m so sorry,” you creak out through your dry throat, “Andy, I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to– I didn’t sleep all night, I feel so rotten–”

“Enough, dove,” he hisses, “enough.”

“Please,” you beg as you step forward only for him to flinch. You stop and clutch your hands in front of your chest; he’s afraid of you.

“I…�� he begins and swallows thickly. He shakes his head and reaches to brush his fingers through his beard, only to wince again. “I… I love you, dove.”

Your eyes gloss as you watch him. You see how he musters his strength to look back at you. Never had anyone looked at you like that. Afraid.

“I love you, too,” you eke out.

“So…” he quavers and clears his throat, “so let’s move past this.” You see him struggle as he grips his thigh and forces his posture straight, “I won’t make you mad again and you won’t hurt me, right?”

It’s like a punch in the gut. You could keel over right there.

“I wouldn’t ever–”

“You did,” he insists, “dove, it’s not that you hit me, it’s… you broke my heart last night.”

“I’m sorry, I really am–”

“Sorry… doesn’t always fix things. I can’t forget last night, but if it doesn’t happen again, I can live with it,” he utters each word as if it hurts, “promise, dove, promise you won’t ever hurt me like that again.”

“I promise,” you spit out desperately, “please, I never meant to hurt you. I wouldn’t ever– Andy,” you bring your hands around your throat, trying to pry away the invisible fingers squeezing you, “there’s something wrong with me. I want to fix it. I… someone hurt me…and maybe that’s why…”

“I understand but it isn’t an excuse,” he reproaches, “you can break that cycle, that’s why you go to therapy… I’m starting to think that’s not working though.”

“N-no, it is– I–”

“Have you told Steve about who hurt you?”

You reel and shake your head, digging your nails into your own throat, “no…”

“So how are you fixing yourself, dove?”

It’s an accusation. That softness is gone and the razor is back in his voice. You frown and shrug.

“I’m trying–”

“Not hard enough,” he says, “look at me.” You do, you see the purplish blue bruises and his swollen eyelid. You see what you did. “If this happens again, you have to go. We can’t stay together. I won’t let you…” his timbre turns sandy and lowers his chin, “do what my ex did to me.”

He sniffles as he hides his face. Your heart clenches and you slowly inch towards him. Before you can get to him, he stands and staggers around the bed. You freeze as he clamours into the attached bathroom and the light flicks on. The harsh yellow blaze shines into the bedroom.

You daintily pad around after him and stop just before the doorway. He grips the frame of the mirror as he looks at his reflection. Tears trickle out down his cheeks and he looks down, gulping tightly.

“I didn’t… I didn’t look before,” he wipes his nose, “Dove, I couldn’t…”

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, “I… I’ll leave. I’ll…” you blink furiously at the thought. Where do you go? You can’t go back to Amber, she doesn’t deserve someone like you. “I’ll go–”

“Where?” He asks.

You don’t have an answer.

“Then I’m the bad guy,” his words grit, “no, we’ll… work on it. Promise, dove, promise you’ll do better.”

“I will, I swear,” you plead, “I… will you eat breakfast?”

He flinches, slowly turning his head to peek at you, “breakfast?”

“I… I wanna take care of you. You need to eat. I… I made it for you. Special.”

His lashes flutter and he looks down at the sink again. He nods as if steeling himself. He pushes himself straight.

He turns to face you completely but before you can back away, not wanting to crowd him, you’re swept up in his arms. He hugs you to him, smothering you in the scent of his sweat and deodorant. You lock up as you let him squeeze you.

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he whispers as he rocks you with him, “as much as you hurt me, I couldn’t. Dove, I need you.”

You slowly bring your arms up and wrap them around him. You feel how big he is. For a moment, you’re in awe that you could ever make him so afraid. You? How? His strength tightens around you, tight enough to force the breath out of you. Tight enough to break you if he wanted to.

“I didn’t sleep either,” you confess.

🕊️

You clean up the tray. The shadow of the previous night looms over you but you try not to let it consume you. The plate is clean but for a few crumbs, the fruit salad was quickly snapped up, and Andy is sipping his second cup of coffee as you lift away the remnant of his breakfast.

“That was good,” he praises over the brim of his mug.

“I’m glad you liked it. Happy you ate,” you say as your own stomach growls painfully.

“I got you to take care of me,” he smiles even as his cheek ticks. You’re both thinking of the unsaid, trying to ignore the ghost in the room with you.

“Can I–” you focus on his mussed hair, an unusual sight, “can I run you a bath?”

He seems taken aback. He tilts his head and sips again. You hold the tray in front of you, fearing his rejection.

“Of if you need space…”

“No, that would be… nice,” he rasps, wetting his throat with the coffee before continuing, “dove, I’d love a bath,” he licks his shining lips, “with you?”

Your mouth falls open and your eyes round. It isn’t just the idea of sharing the tub, but the hope of his offer. It isn’t forgiveness but it’s a start. He’s not casting you out.

“Y-yes,” you squeak, “y-yeah, I’ll go… I’ll go clean all this up and get the tub going.”

“Honey,” he pats his stomach in content, “you’re so good to me.”

You can only nod. It’s another reminder. You weren’t good to him last night. You paint a smile on your face and step back on your heel.

“Let me just get this to the kitchen–”

“Don’t I get a kiss?” He prompts before you can back up.

“Oh, uh, yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” you carry the tray closer, “I didn’t know if you wanted… one.”

“Always, dove,” he leans over and offers his puckered lips. You give him a peck as he hums. As you draw back, he purrs, “perfect.”

Your smile quivers on your lips. He watches you as you glance down at the tray. It’s awkward. It’s going to be for a while. You won’t ever forget this. He accepts you, even the bad parts. Even when it hurts.

“Love you, dove,” he says.

Your eyes flick up to meet his, “love you too… honey.”

His face brightens, “I like that,” he beams, “when you call me honey.”

“You do?” you bat your lashes.

“It’s like a song,” he says and teethes his lips, his eyes drifting away from yours, “beautiful like the rest of you.”

You squirm and squeeze the tray. You slowly turn away, the empty dishes rattling with you. The knot in your chest just won’t untangle. You want it to be alright but it still feels so wrong.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #steve kemp #defending jacob #fresh #series #fic #don't speak #au #library au #dark fic #dark!fic

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dinodontwait · 2 months

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Lost but Found!

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers(?), forest au

Summary: Getting lost in the forest was not on your bucket list but who are you to complain if that means you get to spend time with one of the hottest guy you have ever met!

Warning: 18+, smut

Word Count: 1250

A/N: DON'T READ IF YOU AREN'T 18 AND ABOVE!

This is the first time I'm writing smut so please let me know if there are any mistakes!

The argument with my friends had started innocently enough, a spark that quickly ignited into a blazing fire. The flames of tension danced around our campsite, fueled by misunderstandings and pent-up emotions. As the voices rose, I found myself entangled in a web of conflicting opinions.

"I can't believe you would do this without consulting us," Emma's accusing tone sliced through the evening air, the warmth of the campfire unable to thaw the chill in her words.

Frustration welled up inside me. "We're a group, and decisions should be made together. I can't be expected to just go along with everything!"

Mia, always the peacemaker, tried to mediate. "Let's calm down and talk about this, guys. Yn, maybe we should've discussed the plans before."

But the tension was already palpable. I felt my patience slipping away, and my voice took on an edge. "Discuss? When have we ever had time to discuss anything? You two always make decisions, and the rest of us just follow!"

In the heat of the moment, I declared my intent to leave the campsite. The argument had reached a point of no return, and I stormed away, my footsteps carrying me into the heart of the forest, away from the echoing accusations and strained friendships.

Lost in my own thoughts, the forest's shadows seemed to consume me. With each step, I became more entangled in the labyrinth of trees and underbrush. Panic set in as I realized I had no idea where I was or how to find my way back.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a dusky hue over the woods, my phone's battery dwindled, exacerbating my isolation. That's when I heard the footsteps. The rustling leaves and snapping twigs alerted me to the presence of someone else. I spun around, heart racing, to see a tall figure emerging from the shadows. It was a young man, and the fading light revealed his face – a kind, reassuring smile softened his features.

"Hey, are you lost?" the guy asked, concern evident in his voice. "I heard you from a distance and thought you might need help. By the way, I am Wonwoo!"

Relieved but wary, I shared my predicament with Wonwoo after giving my introduction. "My friends and I got into this argument at the campsite. It just escalated, and I needed some space to clear my head. I decided to find my way back to civilization, but the forest is disorienting, and my phone has no signal."

Wonwoo's eyes reflected understanding. "I get it. Camping trips can be both exhilarating and challenging. It's easy for tensions to rise when everyone is under pressure."

I nodded, appreciating his empathy. "I thought I could find an exit, catch a bus, and leave this mess behind. But now, I'm lost, and it's getting dark."

Wonwoo gestured towards a path leading deeper into the woods. "Well, luckily for you, my grandparents' cabin is just up ahead. It's a peaceful place, and I think it might offer you the solace you're seeking."

Hesitation gnawed at me, but with no other options in sight, I decided to trust Wonwoo. The path unfolded before us, and as we ventured deeper into the woods, the towering trees formed a natural canopy, filtering the dimming sunlight.

Finally, we reached the clearing where the charming cabin stood. Soft lantern light spilled from the windows, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The cabin itself seemed to blend seamlessly with nature, a testament to the craftsmanship of its construction.

Wonwoo unlocked the door, and the creaking hinges revealed a cozy interior. Wooden furnishings adorned the space, a crackling fireplace taking center stage. Plush chairs were adorned with warm blankets, and the flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls.

As I stepped inside, the rustic charm enveloped me, replacing the tension with a sense of tranquillity. "Thank you" I murmured, genuinely grateful for the unexpected refuge.

Wonwoo disappeared into the kitchen, returning with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. We settled by the fireplace, the warmth seeping into my bones as we sipped from the mugs.

As the fire crackled, I began recounting the events that led me to this point, from the brewing tension among friends to my impulsive decision to venture into the forest. Wonwoo listened attentively, offering a sympathetic ear that eased the weight on my shoulders.

"I visit this cabin once or twice a year," Wonwoo shared. "It's a family getaway, a place to reconnect with nature and find some peace. I never expected to bring someone here under such circumstances, but I'm glad I could help."

The night air on the balcony held a gentle breeze, and the subtle rustling of leaves contributed to the enchanting melody of the forest. Wonwoo and I settled into the comfortable wooden chairs, the moon casting a soft glow upon the world around us. Laughter and shared stories painted the atmosphere with warmth.

As we spoke, the connection between us deepened, the barriers of unfamiliarity breaking down with each passing moment. Wonwoo's eyes sparkled in the moonlight, his laughter resonating with a sincerity that stirred something within me.

A distant growl rumbled through the forest, interrupting our conversation. Startled, I instinctively clutched onto Wonwoo, the abrupt sound sending shivers down my spine. "What was that?" I asked, a mixture of fear and excitement lingering in my voice.

Wonwoo's laughter echoed, a soothing and melodic response to my unease. "Just a forest dweller claiming its territory. They're more afraid of us than we are of them. You're safe with me."

Embarrassed by my reaction, I offered a sheepish smile. "I guess I'm not as brave as I thought."

"No need to be brave when you have someone to lean on," Wonwoo replied, his words carrying a subtle invitation. He took my hand gently, intertwining our fingers.

The atmosphere shifted, a shared understanding passing between us. The night embraced us in its quiet intimacy, the balcony becoming a haven for connection. The moonlight illuminated the vulnerability in Wonwoo's eyes, and I felt a magnetic pull drawing me closer.

Wonwoo's thumb traced soothing circles on the back of my hand, and without exchanging words, the air crackled with anticipation. In that quiet moment, he cupped my face, his eyes searching mine for consent.

"You don't have to be alone in the forest, Yn," he whispered, his voice a gentle promise.

A profound understanding passed between us, and as our lips met in a deep, lingering kiss, the world around us disappeared. I don’t know how we ended up on his bed naked!

He grinned that cocky grin and pushed himself inside me, achingly slowly.

I hissed in relief at the delicious pressure. He pulled out and slid back in again, just as slowly. It felt so good, yet not enough.

"This is torture."

"I know. That's why I'm doing it." He slid into me one more time, possibly even slower than before.

I couldn't take it and glared at him. "Fuck me like you mean it."

He took the bait. His gaze as he looked down at me was hungry. He lifted my ankles onto his shoulders and rose to his knees. He held my hips as he thrust, keeping me where he wanted me as he fucked. It felt divine.

"My god, Wonwoo, don't stop." I am past the point of any self control.

"Shit. Say that again." He didn't pause his steady rhythm, pumping in and out.

"Don't stop?"

"Say my name."

#seventeen x y/n #svt x reader #svt angst #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fanfic #fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #strangers to friends

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punkshort · 9 months

Text

Chapter warnings: language, violence, m masturbation, smut

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Back in your apartment, the two of you set to work quietly organizing everything spread out on the living room floor that you could think of to pack. The biggest section was food. Luckily you were still used to a dorm room diet, so you had tons of useful items to take on the go. You had focused on the cans with protein like tuna, chicken and beans, then moved on to granola and protein bars, nuts, dried fruit, ramen noodles, cereal, instant rice and easy mac. Joel packed each of you a flashlight with extra batteries, and handfuls of matches and lighters he had found rummaging through your floor. Justin's camping equipment came with a canteen, plate, bowl, and foldable silverware for each, and a small first aid kit, which Joel significantly bolstered after raiding all the bathrooms on the floor.

He told you to only pack one or two extra sets of clothes, that you would have to break into houses or stores along the way if you needed more. He didn't want to waste the space in your packs that could be used for food and medicine.

You both set to work filling your bags with as much stuff as you could. Joel slipped a map into his pack that he had picked up from a kitchen drawer down the hall, and you had snuck in an unopened box of tampons and a folded up picture of your parents in yours when he wasn't looking.

It was around midday when you were all set to go, making sure to eat something left behind in your cupboards one last time.

You closed the door behind you, but you didn't lock it in case someone came along and needed something. Then sadly, you turned and gripped your baseball bat, following Joel down the long hallway, down the stairs and to the lobby.

Before Joel pushed the lobby door open to the outside, he turned to you.

"Which way's the subway?"

You pointed down the street to the right.

"It's about 3 blocks that way, not far. It's mostly all apartment buildings and a few stores on the corners."

Joel nodded, cracking the door open to listen for any sign of trouble. It sounded clear, so he ventured out to confirm before pulling you out behind him.

"We gotta be quick, but not too quick. Don't want to accidentally sneak up on somethin' out here," Joel explained in a hushed tone. "If you hear anythin', stop and don't make a sound. And you tell me if you see anythin' at all, understand?" You walked closely next to him as he was speaking, the whole time looking all around you frantically, your senses in overdrive, and your heart hammering in your chest. All you did was nod, not wanting to risk making too much noise.

The streets were quiet. Joel peeked around the corner and made sure no soldiers or infected were nearby before ushering you across the open street and back behind the safety of a building. One block down.

The two of you trotted down the sidewalk, swiveling your head around every few feet to see if there was anyone behind you. You almost made it to the next corner when Joel swung out his arm to stop you. You held your breath, heart racing as you focused on the noise he heard. It was the slow rumbling of an engine that reminded you of the FEDRA truck you heard patrolling outside your apartment last night. Joel must have figured that out, too, because he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to hide behind a dumpster that was sticking out of a narrow alley. You both crouched down and waited for the truck to pass. Fortunately, it didn't turn down the street you were on, where you would have been exposed.

Once the noise faded, Joel stood up slowly before motioning for you to follow. Again, he poked his head around the corner and took extra time to make sure no one was around before dragging you across the street once more. One more block to go.

You were halfway down the block as you passed a pawn shop, windows smashed in and the place ransacked. You grabbed Joel's arm and his head whipped around in a panic. You shook your head to tell him nothing was wrong and pointed into the pawn shop.

"Weapons?" you mouthed.

He hesitated a moment, trying to decide if you should press on or see if there was something useful in there before ultimately deciding to check it out. If the subway had infected in it, it would be better if there was more than just one knife between you. Joel stepped through the broken glass door carefully, glancing around at the small shop before holding his hand out to guide you through the opening. You both took a quick look around, noticing anything valuable was long gone, and most of the knives were picked over, but you did find a decent sized switchblade for yourself. You tucked it into your jeans pocket, and you carried on down the street towards the subway entrance.

You had a long way to go down the dark tunnel, but so far it had been quiet and uneventful. Your flashlight beams bounced off the brick walls as you walked in silence, trying to stay focused on your surroundings. Your anxiety spiked with every new subway station you passed, reminding you of just how much deeper into the city you were getting. From what the soldiers had said, more densely populated areas were worse off, and so far in your limited experience that had proven to be true.

You were two stations away from the one you stopped at for work when you first saw people. It was just two families, huddled together on the platform. They had seen your flashlights long before you saw them, so trying to sneak by was useless. They seemed like they were just innocent survivors, so Joel kept walking, holding his head up. He made eye contact with two of the men in the group and gave them each a firm nod, hoping to convey you were just passing through and not looking for trouble. They nodded back wordlessly, and you carried on your way.

The next station had more people who had sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and lanterns. It looked like they were trying to wait it out underground long-term. A few of the men approached the end of the platform to address Joel.

"You soldiers?" one of them asked.

"No, just passin' through, tryin' to stay off the streets, sorry to disturb you all," Joel replied. He paused for a moment, and looked back at the men who were still watching you carefully. "Any of you see any infected down here?"

One of the men shook his head. "Nah, man, that's why we're sitting tight down here. Soldiers must be keeping them busy up top."

Joel nodded. "Thanks... good luck to you."

Finally, you approached your stop for work and found the platform to be filled with people, just like the previous one. They were kind and immediately helped you both up off the tracks. You introduced yourselves and explained you were headed to Joel's apartment not too far from there. One of the women, Josie, warned you the closer you got to the heart of the city, the worse it was.

"We heard, thank you. Once we get up top it won't be a long walk," you said, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead to clear the sweat collecting there. "We've been walking for hours. Joel?" You turned to him, interrupting a conversation he was having with Josie's husband, Peter. "Can we rest here for a bit?" Joel turned back to Peter.

"That ok with you folks?" he asked. Peter and Josie nodded, seemingly the leaders of the small group of strangers huddled on the platform.

The two of you slunk down against the tiled wall, pulling out protein bars and your canteens after sitting down. You shut your eyes for a few minutes, leaning the back of your head against the wall, chewing and grateful to be taking a break.

"You holdin' up alright?" Joel asked softly beside you. You nodded, keeping your eyes closed.

"I'm just tired," you replied, taking another bite of your protein bar without looking.

"It ain't much further, once we get on the street it's another few blocks. We should be able to get there before - "

Joel's sentence was cut short by screaming, and your eyes flew open in surprise as you dropped your protein bar and grabbed your bat while fumbling around in your pocket for the switchblade. Joel was already standing, gripping his bat and trying to locate the source of the scream in the group. One of the men, who looked asleep when you arrived, was snarling and had his teeth clamped down into the shoulder of an older man, blood pouring down his arm and soaking both of their shirts. Peter and another man jumped into action to pull the infected off the poor man screaming in agony, struggling to pin it to the ground.

Joel charged forward before you could stop him, your hands desperately clawing at his t-shirt, but he was already throwing himself into the group to help. You watched in horror as the three men struggled to hold it down, and just as Joel was getting ready to bash its skull in with the baseball bat, it lunged forward, knocking Peter and the other man off to the side and pushing Joel onto his back.

Joel held the infected up by its shoulders as it pinned him down, snapping and growling inches from his face. Joel's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes flashed with rage as he summoned all the strength he could manage and pushed it off him, making it stumble backwards. It was just enough time for Joel to reach to his side for his hunting knife and plunged it into the infected’s skull with a guttural yell.

The infected went limp immediately and fell to the floor. Joel stood over the body, tense, covered in blood, and panting heavily with the knife still clutched in his hand. Peter and the other man rushed to join the rest of the group helping the one who was bit in the shoulder, but you raced straight to Joel, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Surprised, he lifted one arm to place it reassuringly on your back, the other still clutching his knife.

You let him go, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you frowned at him angrily. He looked down at you, the adrenaline wearing off, and saw the anguish on your face. He reached his hand out to you, but you slapped it away and instead shoved his chest heatedly, making him stumble just a bit in surprise.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" you seethed, narrowing your eyes at him and fighting to keep the tears from falling. "You could have gotten killed!"

Joel stared at you, still panting slightly, then put the knife back in its holder. He couldn't gauge your reaction. Were you upset he would be killed because then you would be alone, or upset because of something else? He sighed and reached out to you again. This time, you didn't shove him, but you didn't go to him, either.

Josie approached you, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Joel, for saving my husband," she said, clutching his outstretched hand in her own, then turned to you. "Don't be mad at your boyfriend, dear, he just saved us all."

Your mouth fell open, and before you could correct her, she went back to Peter and hugged him tightly. Joel cleared his throat beside you, seemingly pleased with himself.

"You heard her," he winked at you. "Can't stay mad at me." You scowled back at him, and with a more serious tone, he added, "us or them, remember?"

You sighed, relaxing your brow. You knew he was right, but you were still pissed off. You turned on your heel and headed back to your abandoned protein bar, effectively ending the conversation.

Joel joined you and watched as the group deliberated quietly on how to deal with the man who was bit. You had learned he likely only had a few hours before he turned, based on the location of his bite. Ultimately, Peter volunteered, and he quickly and privately put the man out of his misery with a kitchen knife. You winced when you heard the squelch of blood from across the platform, burying your face in your shoulder.

You didn't stay much longer after that. Once Joel had gotten his strength back, you picked up your belongings and gave your farewells. Josie and Peter thanked Joel again, and you headed up to the familiar street corner, dusk fast approaching.

It took you both an hour to walk to Joel's apartment, which normally would have taken ten minutes, but he insisted on going slow and being careful at every turn. When you approached his building, you had to crane your neck all the way back to take in the full height. His building definitely used to have a doorman: it was fancy. You walked into the ornate lobby and turned around in a slow circle, taking in everything from the detailed crown molding to the beautiful, tiled floor that looked more like a piece of art. You almost felt bad for stepping on it. Even the ceiling was vaulted and decorated in tiny, intricate squares with gilded chandeliers hanging from it. Finally, you looked straight ahead and saw an arched window that overlooked a private garden.

"Shit," you whispered, "I almost got an apartment in this building."

Joel turned back to you, surprised, then realized you were being sarcastic when he saw your grin. He smiled to himself and shook his head, leading you down the hallway towards the stairwell door.

"I take it you're not on the second floor?" you asked him quietly as you began to climb the stairs.

"No, little higher than that," he replied. "30th floor."

You stopped dead in your tracks, which made him stop and turn back to you questioningly. He could tell what the problem was when he saw the pained expression on your face without you even having to speak.

"I know, it's gonna take us a while, but we can stop and rest whenever you need to." You sighed and hung your head, continuing your journey up the stairs.

You made it to the halfway point before you had to take a break, sitting on a step, panting and chugging water from your canteen while Joel leaned against the wall across from you, sipping his own water. The sun was going down, so you each dug your flashlights out of your packs before continuing.

"Not much further," Joel panted, turning the corner of another staircase, "then we can rest. No point in diggin' around in the dark, it's been a long day." You nodded, choosing not to speak to conserve your energy, and focused on the flashlight beam ahead of you.

You weren't sure how long it took, but finally you climbed the last step to face the door marked with a big, red "30". That's when you looked up and noticed you were on the top floor. Of course he lives on the top floor.

Joel pushed the door open a crack and peeked down the hall, which was very short and only had two doors and an elevator at the other end. He held the door open for you to walk through, then gently closed it. You frowned, looking back and forth at the two doors, puzzled.

Joel looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight when he saw your confusion, before mumbling, "It's a penthouse," and brushed past you to unlock his door.

You had never seen a penthouse before, but you knew they were for people who were really rich, especially in New York City. He opened the door, locking it behind you. You couldn't really see much other than what your flashlight exposed, but you could tell the room you were standing in was massive. You briefly flicked your light around, taking in some couches, bookcases, a fireplace and some other furniture. You stopped when you noticed the entire wall was top to bottom windows with a balcony attached, and covered your flashlight quickly. Joel kicked off his sneakers, and noticing the dimmer light, turned his flashlight to shine on you questioningly.

"Can't people see in? Like, the lights moving?" you asked. He shook his head.

"Privacy windows," he explained, then turned and headed towards another room. You quickly kicked your own shoes off, skittering after him, sticking close. The place was so huge you were afraid you'd get lost, and the darkness mixed with the eerie silence from lack of power and road noise made the hairs on your arm stand up. As you walked, you shined your flashlight on everything around you, baffled by how far the apartment seemed to stretch. You were so engrossed in your surroundings that you bumped into him when he had stopped walking.

"Oops, sorry," you whispered.

"Why are you whispering? We're safe here," he replied at full volume. You shrugged.

"I don't know, this place is huge, Joel, give me a minute - oh my god, is this your kitchen?!" you exclaimed as your jaw dropped, noticing the kitchen island in front of you that must have seated ten people. On one side. Easily. The island, made of marble or quartz, was white with silver and black specks. You noticed the counter was the same all over the kitchen, even on the built in bar in the corner. The cupboards were a light oak that was soft against your fingertips as you gently trailed them against the wood, wandering around his kitchen in amazement.

Joel watched you as you walked around his kitchen, gently touching the handles of the knives in the block and running your fingers along the countertop. You looked like you had never seen anything like this before, and his chest ached when he wondered what would have happened that night if you agreed to come home with him. You could have seen this place in a whole different light. He could have made you a drink from the bar and played you some music over the sound system. If he was lucky, he could have laid you down on the kitchen island you were so currently fascinated with, your fingers gripping the edges as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear to explore your soaking wet folds, pushing one finger inside you, and then another, slowly teasing you until you begged him for more.

Having you in his place was clouding his mind, he needed to focus. He cleared his throat before heading towards the pantry door. You eagerly followed closely behind and when you realized the pantry was a room as big as your own kitchen, you moaned with envy, causing his eyes to flutter shut momentarily.

"This place is amazing," you told him, sifting through the food on his shelves. You grabbed some peanut butter and crackers, turned and headed back to the kitchen.

"Where's the silverware?" you asked over your shoulder.

"Drawer next to the sink," he replied, and watched as you grabbed a butter knife. He picked up a can of Beefaroni off the shelf and opened the drawer in the kitchen with the can opener after picking a fork out from the silverware drawer you left open in your haste to eat.

He sat across from you at the island, eating his cold Beefaroni out of the can while you slathered crackers with peanut butter and popped them in your mouth. You smirked at his choice of food.

"Chef Boyardee?" you asked curiously, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure your private chef could have made you the real thing from scratch." Joel chuckled.

"Alright, I ain't got a private chef. Besides, this is the real thing. Nothin' beats it."

You smiled, fascinated that a man who lived in such a lavish apartment would have Beefaroni as his guilty pleasure. Feeling full and sleepy, you twisted the top of the peanut butter jar closed, and out of habit ran your tongue along the butter knife to clean it. You didn't even realize how that looked until you heard Joel's breath hitch and he looked down to study the empty can in front of him. Your cheeks felt warm from embarrassment, but luckily, he couldn't see it under the cover of darkness. You cleaned the knife (with a sponge, this time) and Joel's fork, putting them back in the drawer.

"Alright, let's get some shut eye. We should try to get an early start tomorrow, I want to get out of this city as soon as we can," Joel said, grabbing his pack he had set down when you walked in, and headed further down the hallway.

You followed him nervously, looking at the expensive-looking art on the walls and even a few statues on pedestals before reaching his bedroom. He pushed the door open, and your flashlights bounced around the room to illuminate the corners the moonlight hid from view. As expected, his bedroom was spacious with a bathroom and two walk-in closets attached. You noticed one of the closets was void of any clothes, and the other was packed to the brim. You poked your head in his bathroom, sighing enviously when you saw the huge, glass walk-in shower and built in vanity. You turned around to find Joel had dug out a couple lanterns from his closet and placed one on each end table so you could conserve your flashlight batteries. You clicked it off and walked over awkwardly, not sure what the sleeping arrangements should be. Unlike you, he has couches more than big enough to accommodate a grown adult, but the thought of being alone in the living room of this huge apartment made you nervous.

It hadn't even been a question in Joel's mind.

"Hop in and make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back," and he left the bedroom, back down the hallway to double check the locks. You rummaged in your pack for some more comfortable clothes to sleep in, and quickly changed before he returned, nestled under the covers on the most comfortable mattress you had ever been on in your life.

When Joel reentered the bedroom, his thoughts didn't even have time to catch up with how fast he felt the blood rushing to his cock. He squeezed his eyes shut as he blindly walked right to his closet and shut the door so he could change into his pajamas, willing his erection away. He groaned quietly, leaning his head against the wall of the closet, frustrated with how distracted he's been. If he doesn't stop, it could get you or him killed. He would have to do something about it before heading out tomorrow. He was lucky so far, you've had relatively safe places to hole up in, but that was going to end.

When he finally got himself under control, he exited the closet and got into the other side of the bed. You already had your lantern off and you were laying on your side with your eyes closed, exhausted from all the walking and events of the day. His bed was much larger than yours, and he hoped the extra space would help him get his mind out of the gutter. He turned his lantern off, and leaned back into the familiar pillow and sheets, closing his eyes. It was silent for a few minutes before you spoke.

"Joel?" you squeaked.

"Hm?" he replied, keeping his eyes closed.

"This is the nicest apartment I've ever seen, how long have you lived here?"

"About six years or so," he said, shifting a little under the covers. "But I like your place more," he admitted.

"My place?!" you said, outraged. "You could fit my entire apartment into this bedroom, you're crazy."

"Yeah, well, your place felt more..." he trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Like a home. This place feels like a museum."

"I'm sure you could make this place feel just as cozy," you yawned before adding, "this bed, for instance, is the most comfortable thing I've ever laid on." Joel smiled.

"Glad you like it." Sweetheart.

He waited until he was sure you were sleeping deeply enough before he locked himself into his bathroom and pulled his sweatpants down just far enough to free his throbbing cock, stroking it steadily with one hand while the other propped him up against the wall, eyes screwed shut. His thoughts picked up where he left off in the kitchen, his fingers deep in your pussy, but then he would add his thumb to your swollen clit, making your back arch off the cold counter and gasp his name. His thumb would pick up the pace, keeping up with your moans, rubbing tight circles and flexing and thrusting his fingers inside of you until your body finally stilled under him, whimpering his name as you came.

He imagined you gazing up at him hazily, the same way you looked at him last week outside the bar, but now you would reach out and grab the waist of his jeans, pulling him closer and whisper hoarsely to him, "Please, Joel, I need you, I need more..."

He imagined what it would feel like to slide inside you, your cunt soft and warm, so welcoming and taking him inch by inch. He would grasp your hips, his feet firmly on the ground and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, one of your hands lost in your own hair and the other firmly holding onto his wrist, eyes rolled towards the back of your head, moaning, as he stretched you out. When he would start moving, he would go slow at first and enjoy the way your tits bounced gently along with his movements. He would do his best to take his time, but he imagined you asking him - begging him - to fuck you harder. Of course, he would give you what you wanted. He would slam into you, over and over, groaning as he would feel your cunt squeezing around him, warning him you were close. His thumb would travel down to your clit once again, pressing firmly from side to side until you were screaming his name and he felt your warm release spill over his cock.

"Fuck!" Joel grunted out into the darkness, as he shot thick ropes of cum over his hand and onto the tile floor, completely losing himself and forgetting to grab a tissue. He stood there a few minutes, catching his breath, his forehead pressed against the bathroom wall. Finally, he pushed himself away and cleaned up his mess carefully, using his flashlight to make sure he didn't miss anything. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hoped that would help keep him sharp and focused for tomorrow.

He opened the bathroom door quietly, relieved to see you hadn't moved a muscle since he left. You were still sleeping peacefully, facing his side of the bed with your lips slightly parted. He smiled at the sight, setting his flashlight down and about to slide back into bed when he heard a noise coming from down the hall. He froze, listening intently, trying to figure out the source. He glanced down at you once more to confirm you were still asleep and headed quietly out the bedroom door, carefully closing it behind him.

He walked down the hallway, now on high alert, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He walked by a statue, grabbing it and turning it upside down so the square base was upright in his hand. He gripped it tightly as he neared the kitchen, now hearing rustling and seeing a beam of light coming from the pantry. He glanced around the room before peering around the open pantry door, seeing someone crouched on the floor and rifling through his food, but all Joel could focus on was the revolver on the floor next to him, shining in the moonlight. Shooting one more glance over his shoulder, Joel stepped inside, silently placing the statue down on the floor, and then lunged forward, quickly wrapping his arm around the intruder’s neck, and using his other hand to lock his arm in place. Joel yanked them both up to a standing position, putting his foot over the revolver and shoving it under the shelves in the pantry, out of arms reach. The intruder slapped wildly at Joel's arms, then tried clawing at his face, desperate to loosen his grip so he could breathe, but Joel didn't budge, his grip strong and unmoving, his face contorted in a fury and a heat he never felt before. It didn't take long before the man passed out, but Joel held on a few minutes longer to make sure the air didn't revive him.

Once he was satisfied he was dead, Joel laid him gently on the pantry floor, frantically trying to catch his breath. He slowly picked the statue back up, temporarily forgetting about the gun, and then closed his eyes a moment as his breathing began to stabilize. He reopened them, nostrils flared, and jaw clenched. He needed to make sure the man was alone, and you were safe.

He left the pantry, glancing around the room once again before stepping forward. He was about to enter the hallway to head back towards the living room when something hard hit him across the chest, sending him crashing loudly back into the kitchen, dropping the statue. Joel gasped for air in the darkness, scrambling backwards and reaching around blindly to try to find his statue, but the other intruder kicked it away and pinned Joel down with his own baseball bat. The bat was being pressed to his throat, and Joel struggled to push against the man's weight.

"Who else is here with you?" the intruder sneered. Joel was barely able to make out his face in the darkness.

"No one," he gasped and shook his head, pushing back harder now that he was reminded of you sleeping sweetly in his bed, hoping and praying you stayed in there.

"Bullshit," the man spit. "I saw the shoes by the door. Maybe I'll have a little fun with her after I kill - "

Suddenly, the pressure was gone, and Joel coughed, holding his throat. He whipped around frantically, trying to find anything to use as a weapon, when he heard wet thumping over and over. He stood up, desperately trying to make his eyes adjust to the shadows. Remembering the flashlight, he scrambled back in the pantry and snatched it up, casting the beam of light over the scuffle.

You were bent over and brutally caving in the skull of the man who almost killed him.

Over and over, you aimed the corner of the statue at the man's disfigured face, beating him to a bloody pulp, the squishing sound of blood echoing in your ears. Joel calling your name and grabbing you around the waist was the only thing that stopped you. You dropped the statue and looked him in the eye, like a wild animal cornered and ready to strike. He grabbed your face, repeating your name until your eyes focused back on him. The enormity of what you did hit you in an instant: you just killed a man.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your lips trembled as you continued to stare into Joel’s eyes. He shook his head when he saw the emotion on your face.

“No. No, no, no, no. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his embrace, and it was then you let the tears flow as you sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, gripping his t-shirt in your fist like a lifeline. He snaked his arm up your back, so his hand rested at the crown of your head, and his other arm tightly squeezed you around the ribs. You both slunk to the floor of his kitchen, holding onto each other for dear life, the horror of the world around you finally making its mark on you both.

Chapter Nine

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