#Cracked Glass one shot series

[chuluoyi]

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

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[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Prologue

Tommy Shelby x reader (Mini series)

Summary: Y/N has been Tommy’s best friend since childhood. She had always been there for him when he needed her the most. Now as the Shelby family are in a better position, Y/N will need Tommy’s support when something she didn’t expect happens.

A/N welcome to this little new adventure! This story started as an idea @lyarr24 shared a while ago and I just stared at it for a few minutes until the ideas started “appearing” in my mind. This particular part turned somehow into a comedy show on its own 😂🤭 it was fun and light to write, but it’s going to get angsty… thank you for sharing your unique ideas as usual! It took me some time but I’m always into giving each story it’s own time. And of course @justrainandcoffee thank you for creating this beautiful moodboard for this story! You totally nailed it!

Word count: 2,196

Arriving at the Garrison, Y/N headed straight towards the private booth where the Shelby’s were reunited.

“You should’ve seen the look in Polly’s eyes when she found out we were buying the stallion.” John cracked and threw his head back with a loud laugh.

Arthur winked at Y/N and decided to mess with his brother.

“Erm John boy.” He cleared his throat, just as Tommy gave Y/N a smirk, they were both sitting facing the door unlike John who had his back at it.

Tommy used the chance to kick his youngest brother in the shin, as a warning.

“So you think it’s fucking hilarious John Michael Shelby.” Y/N imitated Polly’s voice and mannerisms perfectly.

John’s face paled as the smile left his face and he straightened his back.

Arthur snorted and then started laughing uncontrollably as John turned around to find Y/N standing by the door.

“Shit! Y/N you scared the fuck out of me.”

“Get in here sweetheart.” Arthur called for her, making room next to him. “That was brilliant, you’ve got a talent.”

“You sound just like her.” Ada praised, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek.

“You’re late.” Tommy offered her a glass of whiskey.

Taking a sip, she nodded. “The lady I work for had a terrible day, didn’t want me to leave.” She replied titling her head to the side because Arthur was right in the middle, sandwiched between her and Tommy.

“And how did it go?” He asked over the laughs of his siblings.

“My feet are killing me, I had to walk all the way back… but I really needed a drink tonight.

“Why? Scott didn’t pick you up?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Against his best judgment, he agreed to give Y/N’s boyfriend a place among the peaky men. He didn’t like or trusted him but he was doing it for Y/N and the friendship they’ve always had. Over time, he even gave Scott a car under the condition to drop and pick up Y/N from her work every day.

“We had an argument this morning, he got pissed and I asked him to not.” She lied.

She knew how protective Tommy could get, specially around Scott. They were already past the phase where Tommy would’ve to intervene and put her boyfriend in his place, then Scott would come for her arguing that she let that gangster say and do whatever he pleased.

But Tommy knew Y/N better than that, and this wasn’t the first time she lied to cover for her boyfriend’s attitude.

“What’s so funny?” Polly demanded to know as she joined them in the booth. Staring at Arthur and John’s faces she knew, so she shot Y/N a long look. “You’re imitating me again?!”

The Shelby brothers tried to hide their amusement but all of them failed.

“We wanted to mess up with John, Pol. Sorry.” Y/N looked down embarrassed for being caught.

Polly smiled down at her, it was impossible to stay angry with someone as Y/N.

“Well I hope it was a good one.” The smile grew bigger.

Ada laughed and stood for her aunt to take her place. “You should’ve seen John’s face, he went pale.” Waving at them, she left.

“Hey you need to talk to Finn, he’s getting out of hand these days” Polly warned her nephews. “I asked him to deliver a few letters and he had the audacity to answer he wasn’t a mail boy anymore.”

Tommy shook his head and after a long puff to his cigarette, he answered; “I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N’s chuckle made him look at her. “What? Are you really going to lecture the poor boy? Tom, if I remember correctly, you answered your father something similar back in the day but worse and that caused your first fight.”

Tommy shuddered at the memory. He was so done with his father demanding favors from him and his brother Arthur, so one day he told him he was done with his bullshit and Arthur Sr answered with a curse, threw a glass against the wall and pushed him, Tommy pushed him back. Luckily Arthur Jr and Y/N were close and could intervene to stop them from getting any further.

That night, Y/N stayed with him outside until Tommy had calmed, then she asked her parents, who were neighbors to the Shelby’s if he could sleep on the couch. Y/N’s mother made him some tea and offered him the comfort he wasn’t able to find next door.

They started as neighbors, then Tommy and Y/N became friends until Tommy trusted her blindly. After the war she was the only one who could understand him.

Tommy took a swing of his drink. “You’re not going to tell him that, are you? I’ve a reputation to keep.” He finally added.

“Leave him Pol, the poor boy is probably frustrated because he haven’t had a woman yet.” Arthur chuckled at his own joke.

“Hey,” Y/N called everyone in the room, “leave Finn out, you’re nothing but a bad influence.”

John shook his head and raised his hands as if saying he wasn’t part of it.

“Oh please Mr.-I-want-to-marry-Lizzie-Stark, really?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him.

“Tommy! Why the hell did you tell her?!” John exploded against his brother, who was already laughing out loud, head thrown back.

Polly had to look twice at her nephew, his guard was down he seemed to be relaxed for once. Since the war he had changed a lot, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“And besides, I corrected my path, married to Esme didn’t I?” John mumbled chewing on his toothpick.

Y/N nodded, deciding to leave that conversation, it’s was funny to tease John. “I better go now, it’s getting late.”

Tommy was on his feet the second she announced her plans.

“C’mon I’ll drive you.” Tommy offered his best friend.

Giving Polly a hug, she waved at the Shelby brothers goodbye.

After driving for a while, Y/N noticed Tommy took another route.

“Before you ask me,” Tommy spoke softly, “I’m going to show you something.”

She opened and closed her mouth. “You’re so mysterious.”

Tilting his head, Tommy clicked his tongue. “When you see it, you’ll understand.”

“Is it the new horse?” Y/N asked impatiently.

Tommy shook his head and passed her the cigarettes and matches to light it. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Scott?”

“Something really stupid, he got pissed over nothing.”

“Really? Tell me something I don’t know already.”

Y/N sighed and took her time to exhale the smoke out of the window. “He asked me to ask you for some money, when I told him that he still owed you from the last time he got furious at me.”

“But you gave me the money for that loan.” Tommy’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I did, but it wasn’t his money.” Y/N explained embarrassed after confessing Tommy the truth.

It was now time for Tommy for sigh. Eyes focused on the road, he didn’t want to be a pain and say I told you, Y/N was the only person he could trust and he wanted her to trust him the same way.

“Look this happens all the time, your Mum used to pay your dad’s bills behind his back, I just couldn’t take another one yet, he’s trying to find a better job and I think he’s going to propose soon.”

Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, he was trying to process the possibilities.

“So… is he the one?” He finally asked.

“Well he’s my boyfriend.” Y/N rushed to answer. “I just don’t know if he will let me keep working for Lady Winchester.”

“If you need a job, you know there’s always a spot for you at the Shelby Company Limited.” Tommy took the last puff of his cigarette and threw it outside the vehicle.

“Maybe I’ll need it later. Thank you.” Y/N felt more than grateful to have someone like Tommy around, he had always been there for her and her siblings specially after his business took off and he started to earn more money than anyone around. In her eyes, that didn’t make him change, if anything he became more generous.

But Scott on the other hand, was tender and good to her, he was fun to be around, always brought flowers to her. He wanted to have his own business one day, unfortunately life had been hard and it was taking him longer to make it.

Taking a turn, Tommy stopped in front of a huge gate, the property guarded by the gate wasn’t a house, it was a freaking mansion!

And her best friend was opening the gate as if he owned the property.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Y/N asked looking out the window.

“Drive over here!” Encouraged Tommy with a huge smile.

Her heart started beating faster, he showed her how to drive and even let her do it when she wasn’t allowed to. But this was wrong, it felt like they were trespassing, she could feel her heart pounding as Tommy shouted for her to hurry up.

Following his instructions, Y/N parked the car next to the fountain.

“I wanted you to see this first…” His smile couldn’t get any bigger as he opened his arms wide and looked around proudly. “I bought this place.”

Her jaw dropped, she was lost for words.

“What do you think? I’ll build a place for the horses in the back.” Tommy explained, eyes shining.

“Woah… I don’t know what to say Tom.” A hand covered her mouth, still shocked to form anything coherent. This house looked bigger than Lady Winchester’s and that was a bloody mansion too! “You always said you’d get yourself a decent place and a big house, and look at how far you’ve come!” She felt genuinely happy for him, Tommy had always worked so hard, always found a way to help his people and those around him. If anyone deserved this, it was him.

“I’ll even have my fucking office here, and there’s a grand salon for parties.” He explained as he waited for her to step inside.

“Parties?!” She laughed nervously.

“A ball dance and shit.” He took a look around.

“You’ll need loads of furniture to fill this place.”

Tommy chuckled. This was unthinkable a few months ago, now it was a reality, he’d had the big place he dreamed of when he was a kid.

“You got a fireplace! In the tea room!”

He followed Y/N’s voice, she was now standing in the middle of the dining room.

“This looks like it belongs to a Lord.”

“You can call me Lord Shelby then.” He winked at her and they both laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Downstairs it’s the wine cellar.” He added hiding his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” She nodded. “This is a dream! I’m so happy for you!” Y/N then went to give him a hug.

A bold movement for the rest of the world, but to her it was just natural, they’ve been friends since forever. She was the one comforting him when his mother passed away, the one to help him hold it together after the war.

“You’ll love the kitchen, it’s huge but they’re doing some renovations already, I’ll show you once it’s done.”

“Looks like I’ll need to make an appointment from now on.” Y/N teased him.

Tommy shook his head with a shy smile. “Of course not, specially not you.”

She knew he was busier now days that the Peaky Blinders owned the races and licenses. It was just a matter of time before he found a woman and got married, then this house would be filled with kids. Or perhaps he already had someone therefore the plans to get the big house.

Once the realization hit her, she pretended to look towards the window. A sudden lump installed in her throat and something indescribable pressed her heart.

“Should we go? It’s going to be dark soon.” Y/N asked, looking him in the eyes for a mere second.

Time flew on their way back and soon Tommy stopped his car in front of Y/N’s door.

Even before he could say goodnight, an angry voice called for her.

“I’ve been waiting hours for you, Y/N nobody knew where the heck did you go.”

“Slow down mate, that’s no way to treat her.” Tommy intervened, holding Scott’s death stare.

“Stay the fuck out of this.” Scott raised his voice.

Tommy felt his blood boiling, one stride and he’d finish the prick, but before he could move, a pair of soft hands stopped him.

“Tommy please, let me handle this.” She pleaded.

His jaw clenched as he saw the smirk of satisfaction Scott gave him. The bastard had Y/N charmed and there was nothing he could do about it.

✨ Thank you for your support! You already know it, but the way to a writer’s heart is through your feedback xx

Part 1

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a

@saradika-graphics divider

#that’s what a I’ll said #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fan fiction

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help.

Tw for this part: +18, mdni, smut, talk of step-cest (for now), everyone is horrible, EVERYONE, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), degradation, f!masturbation, dark Joel, perv!joel, soft dark Tommy, dark reader, dirty thoughts all around, face slapping, smoking, swearing

Word count: 3,5k

A/n: no one look at me🫣 This is part 1 of my depraved family fic as I call it. I plan on 3 parts, next two are gonna be much more smutty. I have a fever rn so sorry for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy! 😵‍💫 @milla-frenchy it’s your fault for hyping this up so much!😘

Masterlist || Part II || Series masterlist

“How’s that stepdaughter of yours? Calls you daddy yet?”

“No, Joel, she’s twenty two. She ain’t gonna call me daddy,” Tommy replies, fumbling with the coaster under his beer bottle.

“Never say never,” Joel mumbles under his breath.

They’re sitting in a crowded bar, their booth table is sticky, the whole atmosphere is depressing and Tommy feels dirty just being here. It was Joel who picked the place and Tommy didn’t object.

“She doesn’t care much about me. Busy with boys,” Tommy explains with a slight sadness in his voice.

Joel’s face twists in a grin, eyes cold and intent, “So she’s a slut?”

Tommy chuckles, “She’s young and single as far as I know. She’s old enough to date. I don’t see any harm in exploring herself.”

“This explorin’ sounds a lot like whorin’ around,” Joel grunts with a smirk, emptying another glass.

“Nah, she’s a good girl,” Tommy follows Joel, chasing the last of his beer with a few nuts.

“Gonna get another round,” Joel says, getting out of their booth. Tommy is about to stop him but he hasn’t seen his brother for a while so he decides that one more beer won’t harm anyone. Yet when Joel returns with four shots of tequila and then two more beers Tommy regrets his stay.

Joel insists and Tommy as always gets influenced by his older brother. They drink and discuss business, work, sports, they drink more and Tommy feels that the room starts spinning. He asks the bartender for water and then returns to the table.

“How long is your stepdaughter staying with you?” Joel asks narrowing his eyes at Tommy.

“For a few more weeks,” Tommy answers, surprised they’re talking about you again.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” Joel lowers his voice, his eyes glinting under the dim lights.

“About what?” Tommy asks, glancing up at his brother. By the tone of Joel, Tommy knows what Joel is talking about and he averts his eyes looking anywhere but his brother’s face.

Joel leans back on the seat, his arm resting on the back of it.

“About fucking her,” Joel speaks louder making Tommy squirm in his seat, as his eyes are darting around the bar.

Joel notices his unease and smirks, “I’ve stayed for a couple of days and already noticed her parading around in her tiny skirts and crop tops. The bitch is waiting to be bent over your kitchen counter, brother.”

Tommy rubs his chin feeling blood rush to his face as well as his crotch, “No, Joel, I love Jess.” Why the fuck is his voice so quiet and shaky all of a sudden?

Joel isn’t having any of it, “Maybe you do, but it doesn’t stop you from wanting to fuck her daughter, right?”

Tommy laughs uncomfortably but the tequila has hit him hard so after a few moments he hums looking at the empty shot glass.

As if having been waiting for this tiny crack in Tommy’s facade, Joel leans on the table getting closer to Tommy, his scowl carnal and triumphant,

“Here’s my little brother. He’s still somewhere inside this boring family man. I remember you being able to get any girl you wanted. Fucked them good. I taught you everything I knew after all. They’re all simple sluts. Call them pretty, then slap their pussy and they’ll do anything for you, give you any hole. Do you want your stepdaughter’s holes, Tommy?”

Tommy’s eyes are blown out and dark, his palms are sweaty. The memories of his escapades flood his mind and he can’t help but get hard thinking of all the pussy he used to get. Before settling down.

“So do you?!” Joel interrupts his brother’s thoughts with a loud question. Tommy flinches, his nerves alight, head cloudy, and answers, “Yes.”

Joel tilts his head and continues, “How would you do it? Hypothetically of course.”

Tommy sees pride in Joel’s eyes and feels cocky. All his life he wanted to get his brother’s approval. It led to a lot of bad situations, as Joel’s influence had been almost always negative. But Tommy can’t help but go back in time to his younger self, drunk on tequila and his sibling’s poisonous words. Staring at his hands he starts talking, quietly but so Joel could hear him,

“I’d fuck her in her room. She has a nice big bed, all pink and pretty. Would push her face into a pillow and rail her from behind. You’re right. She acts like she wants it. Walking into the kitchen in the morning all sleepy in her tiny pjs. The shorts barely cover her ass. I caught a glimpse of her pussy once when she was reaching for the cereal. Nearly came in my pants. She sleeps in just those shorts. Easy access. Could slide them to the side and slip my cock into her tight pussy. Maybe she’d think it’s a dream. Imagine fucking her sleeping body. Fuck…She’d wake up full of her stepdad’s cum and wouldn’t know it. Only later when she starts dripping me out of her hole and...”

Someone shouts in the bar and Tommy snaps out of his drunk daydreaming. He adjusts his hardening bulge and glances up at his brother. He sees Joel’s expression and his body erupts in goosebumps. The man in front of him looks like the devil himself, eyes cold and dark, mouth twisted in a smile that resembles a scowl.

“Got you, brother,” he mumbles and Tommy sees a phone in Joel’s hand. The man puts it on the table and Tommy sees that he’s been on a call with someone. Joel hangs up and leans back grinning wider.

“What the fuck?” Tommy asks trying to clear his mind but in vain. Suddenly he feels like he has blacked out. He must be out cold, drunk and dreaming because he hears your voice. Here, in this dark sleazy bar.

“Hey, daddy!”

As if in slow motion caused by his drinking and shock he sees you slide into their booth and take a seat next to Joel. His brother throws his arm around you.

“What the fuck?” Tommy repeats his question, gaping at you both and you give him an innocent smile putting your hands on your naked thighs barely covered by a short plaid skirt, saying, “Just wanted to join you too. Seems like you’re having fun.”

You feel Joel’s heavy arm on your shoulders, his thumb is caressing your collar bone. You sense him staring at your cleavage peeking out of the low cut top and can’t help but gush.

“We are, baby,” Joel rumbles, licking his lips while Tommy is staring at you and your step uncle.

“Give uncle a smooch, baby. Haven’t seen you in a while,” Joel lowers his face closer to you and you feel tequila on his breath burning your cheek.

“You saw me at breakfast this morning, perv,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Suddenly a hand grabs a fist of your hair and yanks your head back. Joel is pressing his side to yours, his face hovers over you, as he hisses, “that’s no way to talk to your seniors, girl” His eyes are blown out, he is enjoying it and you are too. Your legs tremble and you feel yourself getting wetter.

Tommy gets up and tries to reason with Joel saying that people are staring and he must let you go.

You’re blinking up at your step uncle and forget why you’re there for a second. Your gaze darts to his plush lips, they are waiting to be kissed and bitten. You shoot him a smile and he groans.

Joel hears worried mumbling from around their booth and lets go of your hair much to your disappointment. He looks around with a polite smile, mouthing, ‘All good, just joking.”

You fix your hair and look at your stepdad who has plunged back into his seat, eyes worried and wide.

“You can’t grab her like that, Joel! What the fuck is happening between you too?” Tommy exclaims but in a hushed voice.

Joel adjusts the prominent bulge in his jeans and takes a big gulp of his beer.

You're batting your lashes at Tommy and breathe out, “Don’t worry, daddy. I’ve forgotten my manners.”

Joel chuckles, you smile and Tommy furrows his brows. “Since when are you calling me daddy,” that’s what he wants to ask but doesn’t dare, not when Joel is here, not after the conversation they’ve just had.

So he takes a sip and asks you if you want anything.

“Thanks, I’m good. My friend is waiting for me in the car. I just popped in to say ‘hi’ to my favorite stepdad and step uncle,” you reply, giving them both your sweetest smile, fumbling with your necklace. You haven’t missed the way they both stare at your chest.

You get up peeling off your thighs of the sticky seat and pause next to Joel for a second fixing your skirt. Tommy rises up to his feet but you stop him with a wave of your hand, “It’s ok, I’ll find my way out,” you giggle and get out of the booth. You look at Joel who’s shamelessly ogling your ass and legs.

You wait for him to pay your face some attention and when he finally glances up you bend over the table and kiss his scruffy cheek before whispering, “Bye, Uncle Joel.” When you straighten up and turn to Tommy, Joel places his big warm hand on the back of your thigh and gives it a squeeze. You move away from him feeling dampness between your legs and step up to Tommy, whose jaw hasn’t closed up since the moment you showed up.

You bend over and kiss his cheek too. Your lips linger on his face a little longer than necessary and Tommy places his hand on your shoulder to gently push you away. You feel a pang in your heart but don’t show it. You’ll have him very soon.

“Have a good night, daddy.. uncle,” you coo, looking at one man and then the other.

You turn your head to your stepdad and say quietly, so only he could hear,

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Tommy. I'll make sure to wear the pjs you like.”

You watch his face growing paler and your lips twist in a smirk. You turn on your heels and head for the exit, passing Joel and giving him a wink. He returns it with one of his predatory grins.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and as soon as you leave the bar you take a deep breath of fresh night air. You find your friend’s car, get in and ask her to take you home. You light a cigarette with shaky hands not being able to believe you got what you wanted. Well not exactly what you wanted but you’re definitely closer to the final goal.

You look at the red dot of the cigarette burning in the darkness of the car and remember today’s morning when you were smoking on the patio of your mom’s house.

***

Joel joined you there after breakfast and took a seat next to you. He lit a cigarette too and for some time you were sitting in silence. He was leering at you from the side of his eye and after a dozen of sleazy glares you got fed up. “Would you quit staring, old man?” you asked Joel in an accusatory tone. He just chuckled as his dark eyes slid down from your face to your chest, and then legs.

Everyone was aware that Tommy’s brother was a sleaze bag. Single, no children, with a bouquet of addictions which none of many rehabs could treat. He also was hot. You didn’t hate him, but rather came to admire the extent of him not giving any fucks. He always said whatever he wanted and trolled your mom whenever he’d visit his brother which gave you immense pleasure and satisfaction. At least someone didn’t see Jess as a perfect little house wife.

“I could ask you the same question, sweetheart,” he replied with a sly smile. You furrowed your brows in confusion taking the next drag and then quipped, “I wouldn’t look your way if you were the last dick left on the planet!”

He chuckled and you hated how much you loved the sound and the fact that you managed to make him laugh.

“Nah, angel, I’m talkin’ about the way you stare at my little brother,” You opened your mouth to tell him there was nothing little about Tommy but fortunately shut it just in time. You couldn’t forget the time you had caught him in the bathroom naked after taking a shower so you knew that his cock was long and thick. He had a happy trail on his soft tummy, a broad chest and muscular arms. You lost count of how many times you had gotten off to that image.

Suddenly your palms got clammy when you heard what exactly Joel said.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. You should have your eyes checked, Joel. At your age it might be a good time to get glasses.”

He didn’t laugh that time, just looked at you intently with his piercing stare.

“I could help you get what you want,” he rumbled in the quiet of the yard. You narrowed your eyes at him, birds chirping in the trees was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. Is he joking? Is it some kind of a trap? You wouldn’t be surprised. It was Joel after all.

“What do you think I want?” you asked him carefully.

“To fuck Tommy and get back at your bitch of a mother.”

You laughed but it didn’t sound natural at all. You were surprised to your core that he read you like a book. You didn’t say anything and just continued smoking and staring into the distance.

“I have an idea and if you like the plan, we could help each other out.”

“How would we do it?” you asked and added hastily, “hypothetically of course.”

Joel told you about the plan, the first step of which would be fulfilled perfectly and the result of it would be stored in your phone now.

When he finished explaining it to you, you asked him why he wanted to ruin his brother’s life. Bringing the cigarette to his lips from time to time, Joel complained that Tommy had abandoned their family business, had left his life in Austin, had left Joel, his only family member, chasing some mediocre pussy (you smiled at that). Joel wanted his brother out of that marriage as he hated Jess (you smiled again) and wanted Tommy back. “I don’t know why you hate your mom like that but I don’t doubt you have a reason,” he concluded.

You hummed at that leaning back, your expression serious and pensive.

As if sensing your doubt Joel spoke again, “I’ll add a big bonus to our deal.”

You glanced his way and waited for him to continue.

“On top of getting my brother’s dick you’ll get mine as well.”

Now you couldn’t help but laugh, “Why the fuck would I need your dick?” you asked giggling, being in awe at the man’s enormous ego.

“You surely don’t need it, sweetheart, but fuckin’ hell you want it,” as if proving his point he grabbed his bulge and adjusted it looking straight into your eyes. “I’ll fuck you like no boy ever did. Like my little brother never will. Believe me, baby, if you want a good dickin’ down, you need Joel.”

With an open mouth you stared at the man next to you. The pull he had on you was hard to deny when your panties were soaked just being next to him, talking to him. His masculinity, his darkness, his self confidence captivated your soul, mind and body. But you couldn’t just admit it.

“I’m pretty sure I can have you right here, right now if I wanted to, dirty creep,” you spit out at him leaning forward and putting your elbows on your knees.

He turned his head away from you, smiled, then got up with a grunt and came up to your chair. He was towering over you, so much bigger and stronger than you that you started to regret your harsh words. You stared up at him hiding your growing fear as well as you could. His gaze was locked with yours and you flinched when he placed his hand on your cheek and rubbed your cheekbone with his thick thumb. Your eyes were about to flutter shut and it took everything from you not to purr into his gentle touch when all of a sudden he gave your cheek a slap, not hard, but your head spun to the side and you had to grab the arms of the chair for stability.

“Think about it, sweetheart,” he said and went inside the house.

You rubbed your cheek not feeling the pain but a surge of shame shooting into your heart and then right to your pussy. The desire to be used by him started burning in your stomach. You wanted both of the brothers now and if you could have it all in one move, why the fuck not?

Joel didn’t look surprised when you approached him later and agreed to the deal. You discussed the details and that evening everything went smoothly.

***

As soon as you are in your bedroom you rush to the night stand and grab your favorite toy. You throw it on the bed along with your phone and plunge down next to them. You take off your thong and notice that the gusset is soaked through. You throw the ruined underwear on the floor before taking your phone and adjusting AirPods in your ears. The house is empty, your mom having a girls night out, Tommy still in the bar, so you can enjoy the result of yours and Joel’s efforts fully. At least until you get the real thing. You find the audio and press play. Right into your ears as clearly as if he was next to you, you hear Joel’s drawl asking Tommy about you. You spread your legs and dip two fingers between your folds. You’re so wet they slide down to your entrance easily. You hear Tommy talk about you and your pussy flutters. You push the fingers inside and start slowly fucking yourself rubbing your clit from time to time. “So she’s a slut?” Joel asks in your ears and you moan moving your fingers faster. You can’t get enough of them talking about you like that. When Tommy calls you ‘a good girl’ you nearly come so you pull your fingers out and pant heavily trying to calm down. You know the good part is coming soon so you need to wait for it.

For some time you just lie there, eyes closed, skirt pulled up to your waist, pussy dripping and glistening under the light of the moon coming through the window. You don’t dare touch your nipples like you usually do, as you know you’ll come right away.

When you hear Joel’s “how would you do it?” you return your hand to your throbbing pussy. You plunge your fingers into your slicked entrance and slowly begin massaging your insides, pressing the pads of your fingers against your g-spot.

“Would push her face into the pillow… rail her from behind” You can’t help but moan so you bite on the back of your hand to stop your whimpers in case someone comes home.

“She acts like she wants it... I caught a glimpse of her pussy…”

Fuck, Tommy!

Your digits slide out of your hole and caress your pulsing clit. You feel your orgasm on the tips of your fingers.

“Easy access. Could just slide them to the side and slip my cock into her tight pussy…Imagine fucking her sleeping body. She'd wake up full of her stepdad's cum…”

“Stepdad’s cum” Fuck… You roughly push your fingers back into your hole, fucking yourself in earnest now and in just a few seconds you explode, pussy squirting its juices all over your bedding, your soaked hand still working your g-spot prolonging the hardest orgasm of your life. You arch your back, all your muscles tighten, and you bite your lip till it bleeds.

Your moans are leaving your mouth openly now. You don’t care anymore, blinded by ecstasy, drowning in pleasure. Nothing exists anymore, no one exists, just you and your hand on your fluttering pussy.

The recording stops and you lie on the bed spent, your limbs tingling pleasantly. Still trying to catch your breath, you throw your soaked bedding off, and the forgotten toy falls on the floor with a thud. You get under the blanket still clothed and as soon as you close your eyes you fall asleep.

***

Thank you for reading!❤️

Your comments and reblogs would make me very happy!💖💖💖

Part II

Tag list: @iamasaddie @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @missannwinchester @nervousmumbling

If you want to be tagged for this mini series or everything else of mine please let me know🫶

***

For other stepdad or ‘uncle’ activities check out these hot stories if you haven’t already 🥵

A little discipline - stepdad!Joel x reader by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Uncle Ezra by @bonezone44

App Store - stepdad!Joel by @toxicanonymity

Bad girl - stepdad!Joel by @seventeenpins

The final jump - stepdad!Joel by @talaok

Please heed the warnings of the fics!

#joel miller #dark!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #dark!joel x reader #dark!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #dark!reader fics #dark!tommy #dark!joel miller #dark tommy miller #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you x tommy miller #joel x reader x tommy #tommy miller smut

[scarletlizzard]

Part 1: Get Help

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: being stalked, paranoia, therapy, mentions of sex

Masterlist

Fall 2018

It was the same thing every day.

You wake up, make breakfast, and go for a run. You go to work, a normal 9-5 job downtown. After work, you would wind down by making dinner and sometimes taking a bath with a glass of wine. You go to bed around the same time every night, letting the sounds of I Love Lucy lull you to sleep.

Your routine was all but normal, though. You had a shadow.

Your daily jog was filled with turning your head, constantly aware of a presence behind you, one that you could never see. You thought it was over until one night when you were making dinner, you happened to look out the window and saw a person standing across the street. The glass of wine you were holding dropped from your hand onto the floor beneath your feet. You step back onto the glass and wince, tearing your eyes from the shapeless figure.

When you look up again, they've disappeared.

This happened for weeks until you finally gave in and told your friend one night over a bottle of wine.

"Look, this is them. They're back," you say, handing the phone to Natasha. She raises an eyebrow and looks at the blurry picture on the screen. Practically a black dot next to the bus stop a few houses down from yours.

"But why would they wait so long? It's been over a year, and.." she squints, staring at the picture. "That kind of just looks like a blob.." the woman says and sips her wine, a concerned look on her face at your frantic state.

"It's not. It's them! I-I swear I'm being followed, being watched... every where I go, it's like, I can feel them. The police won't do anything about it." You move your shaking hand away from her to gulp down the rest of your wine.

"Look, Y/N.." Natasha sighs and sets down her glass, turning her body to face yours. "I know you've been through a lot, everything that.. happened last summer. I think - maybe you should.. get some help." She tries to soften the blow of calling you crazy by resting a hand on your thigh. You only look to her with betrayed eyes.

"I'm not crazy," you speak calmly, your tone stern, but the crack in your voice only solidifies Natashas' point.

"I don't think you are, Y/N. Here.." She grabs her purse, pulling out a business card from it casually, as if she just happened to have it. You knew her better than that. "This is my friend. She's an amazing psychiatrist. Just talk to her, give it a chance."

You snatch the card away from her hands, not making eye contact with her. Natasha sighs again and stands, watching your leg bounce harder. She leans down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.." She trails off, unsure if you'd even reply.

"Love you." You mumble, pouring yourself another glass.

After she leaves, you stare at the business card in your hand, eyes settled on the name in bold lettering. You crumple the card, ball it up in your hand, and throw it across the room. It bounces off the wall with a small 'thunk'. Then you're left sitting, recalling the events of last summer.

***

Summer 2017

It was an exceptionally hot night. The air conditioner had been broke all day, leaving you sweating and fanning yourself with a magazine. Also leaving you with no choice but to leave the windows open, letting a cooler breeze flow through your quiet house.

You shot a quick text to Natasha- See you tomorrow, meet at the coffee shop near yours.

With a sigh, you rest your head on the back of the couch, listening to the voices on the TV. You get a strange feeling suddenly, your whole body covered in goosebumps, the small hairs on your arms standing straight up. You slowly open your eyes, staring straight ahead at the characters running around the screen.

"Get a grip, Y/N.." You mumble to yourself, patting your cheeks as if to wake yourself up. Maybe you just needed some sleep. Your anxiety seemed to be kicking up again. Your hands reach for the remote on the table in front of you, and you press the power button, turning the TV off.

It's then you see, in the black screen, reflecting an image not only of you but a person standing directly behind you.

***

Current Fall 2018

No, I'm NOT doing this right now.

You think to yourself, swallowing down your third glass of wine for the night. Instead, you get up to double -no, triple- check all of the locks in your house. The windows to the backyard, locked. The sliding glass backdoor, locked. The windows to the front of the house, locked. The front door, locked. The side door leading to the garage, locked. Windows in any bedrooms, locked. Your bedroom door and window, locked.

It was exhausting, but it was a routine you had been following for the past year. It kept you safe. You turn on I Love Lucy, drifting off into another nightmare with your mysterious shadow.

The morning after, you awake to your alarm and slap your hand on your loud phone to slide it off. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The morning sun shines brightly in the room, the light warm on your skin.

I am NOT crazy...

You repeat to yourself over and over, a mantra easily spoken and believed in your mind. Breakfast was made and eaten, running shoes tied to your feet, laces double knotted, ID and cash in case of emergencies, and headphones settle snug in your ears. The first mile was fine, humming along to your music, and enjoying the cold fall. It was when you were heading back towards your house that you began to have that unsettling feeling.

Your panicked eyes look around as you jog, your head constantly turning from side to side as you look for your shadow. You find yourself reaching into your pocket, letting your hand grab onto the pepper spray you had brought with you. Only a little ways to go. It's fine.

Your pace sped up, but your shadow was creeping up closer to you. Your heart was racing. Sweat was dripping down your forehead. With your thumb gripping the spray, you suddenly turn around, spraying the shadow behind you.

"Ahhh! What the fuck!" A man screams, falling to his knees in front of you. Your heart was beating out of your chest at the sight of him, rubbing his eyes and screaming in pain. But on the sidewalk in front of him you see your emergency clip that held your cash and ID.

"Jason! Oh my god, what did you do to him?" A woman comes running up to his side, sliding her arm around him. "Are you crazy? You dropped this. He was trying to give it back to you!" She screams at you, throwing the clip in your direction. Dollar bills fly to the ground, and you back up.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know, I thought he was - I didn't know.." Your voice trails off as you shake your head, hands shaking. "I didn't know.." You repeat it 4 times.

"Y/N, you're lucky he didn't press charges, I can't believe you actually pepper sprayed him.." Natashas voice sounded from the phone in your hand as you recall the events from the morning.

"I know, I can't believe I did either. I feel so fucking bad about it.." you hold your head in your hand, guilt filling your gut.

"It happened. There's nothing you can do about it now. He'll be fine.. people get pepper sprayed all the time," she tries to joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

You sit up and sigh into the phone, looking around the room. The TV playing, the dusty art supplies sitting on a desk in the corner. Your eyes find and focus on the crumpled business card on the floor by the wall. As you stand, your feet carry you over, picking it up.

"I'll talk to you later, Nat," you say, letting her say goodbye before you hang up. Your hands straighten out the card, and you once again read the name in bold lettering.

The clock on the wall read 5:28 as you sat, one day after work, on a chair in the hallway near the front door. You look around the hallway that leads to a massive house. It seemed the front was used for her practice, a room on either side of the hallway. One you assumed an office, the other a room to meet with patients. The clock ticked to 5:29, and your leg began to bounce.

The door on the wall across from you opens, revealing a brown headed woman with a warm smile on her face. She was taller, a creme colored blouse and brown pants settled on her legs. Her familiar green eyes find yours, and you both let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"Y/N.." Wanda says and holds out her hand to you, watching as you stand in front of her.

Your hand reaches for hers, "Wanda.." Her hand is warm and soft in yours. You know you linger too long in her grip. She leads you into room number two, a medium-sized room with one big, comfortable looking chair and an even more comfortable looking couch. Behind her comfy chair was an extravagant looking fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and as you walked inside, your fingers trail the spines of the books that sat on them. It felt comfortable and safe. The sun was beginning to set, and an orange glow filled the room. Wanda sits in a chair, a notepad, and pen in her lap. You follow suit, sitting across from her on the couch.

"So, are you sure you want to do this? I'd be more than happy to recommend you to some other, highly recommended, co-workers of mine?" Wanda says with a smile, and you can't help but blush. She just had that effect on you.

"As long as you're okay with it, I am. I trust you, and right now, I really need that.." You mumble the last part, sitting back into the couch. Wanda nods, understanding of you.

One of the last times you saw Wanda she was in your bed, giving you what still stands today, the best orgasms of your life. Natasha had thrown a Christmas party where you met. You and Wanda came alone. You both had a lot to drink, and one thing led to another. You spent the night talking and laughing, getting to know each other as you came on her fingers. After that, you saw her from time to time, over a couple of months. She let you eat her out on your couch and fucked you against the counter in your kitchen. It was the best sex you'll probably ever have. You felt more alive with her than you had in years.

But then you had to leave town for work, and by the time you came back, the two of you had lost touch. Then, a few months after, during the summer, when your shadow appeared, you cut practically everyone out of your life.

"Well then, let's get started," Wanda interrupts your train of thoughts with a click of her pen, crossing her legs. "I reviewed the file you sent over from your stay at the Bay Point Medical Center. Do you want to talk about that?" She asks, her voice as smooth as honey.

You let out a shaky sigh, playing with the zipper of the bag you held in your lap. "I've always been.. anxious, since I was a kid. Always had these uh, routines. Tie my shoes until they felt right, flick the lights 4 times before bed."

"Were you ever diagnosed or tested as a kid?"

"No, my mom didn't believe in that sort of thing."

"So you were first diagnosed with OCD and Bipolar Disorder at Bay Point." Wanda makes a note. You tap your leg 4 times.

"Yes."

"So what led you to that moment, to that night?" Her voice is so inviting. You would tell her just about anything at this point.

"I'm sure it says in the file.." You clear your throat, suddenly being unable to look her in the eyes.

"There is a version, but I'd like to hear yours." Her eyebrows raise, pen hovering over the paper of the pad.

"It was a few days after I saw my shadow," you start, Wanda has a curious look on her face.

A pause.

"Your shadow?" She asks, you nod.

"The stalker, person watching me." You reply, she nods for you to continue. "I hadn't slept in days. The police didn't believe me. There was no evidence, they said, that anyone besides me had been in the house that night. So I went to the docks, and I-I bought a gun from some junkie. I'm not proud of what I did," you say, meeting her comforting gaze.

"I'm sure. You hadn't slept in days. You were delusional - sleep deprived. No medication, no diagnosis. Under extreme stress. Given the circumstances, I'm glad no one was hurt." Wanda concurs.

"Well, maybe not physically. But when you wave a gun around at 3 in the morning down the street, maybe a little psychological damage to the family that found me," you groan and put your head in your hands.

"The report said you had left a note at your house. What did it say?" Wanda asks, and you think back to when you scribbled on a piece of paper, what you thought would be, your last words. You're quiet for a moment. Wanda can tell you won't answer that question just yet.

"How about, who did you leave it for?" She asks.

"For my shadow."

The rest of the session you had spilled about your feelings that night and talked about you OCD and Bipolar disorder. You told her about your stay at the mental hospital, and told her about your routines. You spoke to her of almost everything.

"I think this session was really productive, Y/N. You've been very open with me, and I appreciate that." Wanda stood at the front door, smiling down to you. It was dark now, the sun at set completely. "I'll see you at the same time, Thursday?"

You nod and smile back at her. "I'll see you then." You walk to your car, feeling lighter. But you also can't ignore the hair on the back of your neck rising as you drive away.

***

Summer 2017

You scream loudly as you turn to see a figure behind you. A shadow, dressed in all black. A white faceless mask covered their true face. They stand still as you back away, slowly tilting their head to the side.

"Run." A menacing whisper, a familiar tone.

You run.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #dark fic

[leaentries]

Red | jack hughes

backstory - next

summary: when jack meets a bombshell of a girl, his life is bound to change.

warnings: swearing, lil bit of arrogant jack

wc: 2k+

a/n: welcome to my new series! this will follow jack and red as they navigate through the ins and outs of new love. if you have any requests or thoughts regarding jack and red, please send them in!

His world was flipped the second he met her. His Red.

Live chattering filled the dimly lit bar, as a certain chill settled in the cracks of the wooden walls. Winter did not come to play this time of year. The howling wind could still be heard over the loud voices in the room. With every creak of the front door, more frigid air rushed in, gripping whoever was near. 

Bright noses and ears scattered about the patrons, who eagerly down their alcohol in an attempt to warm up the frosted bones beneath. The old dinky clock on the back wall lamely rang as the time hit the hour. It was officially the next day, yet Jack and his team still swarmed the back left corner of the room. 

Joy was very evident to whoever gazed upon the mass of hockey players, or anyone who paid any attention to the TVs in the room. The New Jersey Devils had just won their best game thus far, winning by a complete shutout against their rivals. To say they were pumped would be an understatement. 

Strong bodies and their accompanied ladies made their way to the dance floor, leaving behind the select bachelors of the bunch. Although adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he was still riding the high of winning, Jack couldn’t help but watch as his teammates celebrated with their partners. 

The lowly sound of Nico and Dawson’s conversation echoed in and out of Jack’s ears. Now, Jack knew, regardless of how shallow it seemed, that he could easily have his choice of bunny to dance with. Truth be told, he had begun to grow tired of hooking up with random girls every weekend. 

Jack craved something deeper. He craved something real. So, there he sat, in the back booth with a beer in his hand, secretly wishing he had his own girl by his side. 

❥.

Another hour or so had passed, the clock now reading 1:15 a.m., yet the team seemed to have every intention of shutting the place down. Another round of shots was brought to the table, courtesy of Erik, causing a new rise of cheers to be heard. Jack jumped slightly, as Dawson shoved a small glass of brown liquid into his hand. 

“C’mon, man! What’s up with you?” Dawson questioned as he noticed Jack staring into the glass. Jack was quick to plaster a small, but convincing smile on his face. 

“Nothing. I’m all good, just a bit tired after the game, that’s all.” Dawson looked skeptical and opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off as Jack swiftly drank the potent liquid. 

“Atta boy, JackJack!” Dawson’s attention moved away from Jack as Luke showed him something on his phone. 

A deep sigh left Jack’s throat, easing the burning sensation. His eyes traveled around the bar, this time noting that they seemed to be the last ones left. He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave as he saw how happy his team looked. 

Jack excused himself from the table, opting to go recoup in the bathroom for a few peaceful moments. Making his way towards the other side of the bar proved to be more difficult when he had drunk hockey players flinging themselves as he passed. Jack continued his way through, ignoring all of the concerned looks he got as he pushed his friends off.

He picked up his pace, practically slamming the bathroom door closed once he was inside. He let his hands rest on the sink as he attempted to even out his breathing. Jack wasn’t even completely sure why he was freaking out in the first place. It’s not like he has to be single, he has lines of women at his beck and call. 

But, there is something different about the emptiness in his chest that he just can’t seem to shake tonight. Jack turned on the faucet, gently patting his face with some cool water to help dissipate the redness covering his cheeks and neck. 

He reached over to grab a paper towel when the door slammed open. Jack turned around abruptly, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. But what caught him off guard the most was, not the interruption, but the fact that it was a girl. In the men's bathroom. 

“Excuse me?” Jack exclaimed, visibly irritated by the girl. The girl's eyes widened, before stepping back to look at the sign on the door.

“Oh shit!” She met Jack’s eyes with an awkward laugh, “Apparently this isn’t the women's bathroom.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Great observation there, genius.” 

The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at his snappy tone. She understood her mistake, but that did not give him a reason to be rude. Before saying anything, she took into account who he was. Not that it mattered, but she did not want to start beef with Jack Hughes. 

She remained silent, her lack of response egging Jack on. 

“Look, I get it. You’re a fan, but I’m trying to have some privacy. The least you could do is respect that. You didn’t have to barge into the bathroom just to see me.” 

Oh hell no. 

It occurred in that moment, that she no longer cared who he was. The arrogance melted in waves off of him and she needed to snuff that out real fast.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to, but it sure ain’t me.”

Jack was taken aback by her rebuttal, not failing to note the southern twang in her voice. He then realized how insanely attractive the fuming girl was. Her flaming ginger hair fell in waves down her back, which provided a stark contrast to her bright green eyes. They were big and round, yet held so much fire. Her nose was small, yet curved up slightly, creating a slope. Jack found himself wanting to trace his fingers down it. 

He was snapped back into reality as her vibrant red lips opened once more. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know who you are, Jack Hughes,” She mimicked, “But If I wanted to see your dick that bad, I’d have no problem getting you in my bed.” 

Jack scoffed, “Oh is that so?”

She took a few steps forward.

“It’s no secret you get around Jack,” She brought her hands around his shoulders, “Your dick is more famous than you at this point.” 

Jack would be lying if he denied the jolt that his cock made at her comment.

“You know, Red, you shouldn’t talk about my dick if you don’t plan on giving it attention.” Jack wasn’t sure what changed his mood, possibly the most sexy woman he had ever seen talking about his cock. Maybe a hookup wouldn’t be the worst thing to come of the night.

A wicked grin found its way to her full lips as she brought them to his right ear. Her body pressed against his deliciously. With a low whisper, she replied, “Like hell.” 

She pulled away quickly stepping back. Jack frowned at the loss of her warm body. His eyes gleamed longingly at the door as she made her way out without a second glance at him. 

Jack was left by himself once more, this time with a painful hard-on and thoughts of his mystery girl. 

❥.

Once he calmed himself down, Jack left the bathroom and began to make his way back to his team. He was about halfway through the building when a streak of red hair caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see her sitting at a bartop, engrossed in her laptop that sat in front of her. 

Jack acted on a whim and decided he wanted, no needed, to figure this girl out. He walked up to the bartop, sliding into the seat beside her. 

She didn’t even bother to look up, “Look Bubba, go find somewhere else to sit. I am very clearly busy.” She barked. Jack chuckled at her response. 

“Wow, Red, you’re very feisty this evening.” The girl snapped her head up, meeting Jack’s icy blue ones. She let out a huff, shaking her head slightly. 

“What? You decided to grace the common folk with your godly presence, Jacky?” She gave him a pointed look before continuing, “Also, don’t call me Red. I have a name, you know.”

“You haven’t given it.”

“You haven’t asked.”

Jack smiled. The way she manages to challenge everything he says is addicting and he wants more.

“Alright then, what’s your name?” Jack questioned, quirking his head to the side. Boy, was he more than happy to play her game. 

“Y/n.” 

“Nah, I still prefer Red.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, opting to turn her focus back to her computer. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of attention she gave. 

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, Red?” 

She looked back up from her project, turning to him. “Look, Jacky, I already told you in the bathroom, I’m not looking to hook up with you. Nor do I want to,” She sucked in a breath, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to focus on my article.”

Jack did not like the idea of giving up, so he let his curiosity get the better of him. He turned her laptop towards him, provoking protest from the red-haired girl. He was taken by surprise at the title:

A backtrack on the Devil's season: Did Jack Hughes save the team?

Jack couldn’t help but smirk, his ego rising a few notches. 

“Writing articles about me, huh? I gotta be honest with ya, Red. With the way you’ve been arguing all night, I never would have guessed you were my biggest fan.”

Y/n scoffed, a bewildered look on her face. “Ha! That’s rich.” She tugged her laptop back, “I was given this assignment, I would never write about you willingly. You’re a good player Jacky, but some of your other teammates deserve the hype too. All the major networks are too busy fawning over you, that they miss what contributions are being made by the other players. Last time I checked, it’s not just Jack Hughes on the ice.” 

Even though she was complaining about him, he couldn’t help but cling to her every word. It was captivating, how passionate she got. Especially over something that Jack’s life revolved around. 

She continued, but was cut off by Jack, “I agree with you.” 

Y/n cocked her head, “You…agree with me?” Baffled would be an understatement. She assumed Jack would be flying, boasting about being the number one topic in the NHL right now. 

“Yes, I agree. My team is just as important, we wouldn’t be winning with just me. It’s a team effort and I think more people should be writing about that. Everyone on that ice is crucial to the game, so I appreciate you seeing that.”

Everything he said was true. He truly did believe that he would be nowhere without his team, they were his family. Y/n could see the tenderness in his eyes. Against her better wishes, she found it attractive how he cared for his team.

She shook away those thoughts, “Anyways, Jacky, I am super busy finishing this article, so…” She trailed off, hoping he would get the subtle hint. She would never let on that she was enjoying their conversation. 

Jack wasn’t blind to her attempts to get him to leave but refused to go without assuring him he’d see her again. 

“I could help you,” He offered. She gave him a questioning look.

“I mean, you seem to be struggling to come up with what to write about me. So, I can help you. You can ask me any questions you want…” 

She raised an eyebrow, sensing his wanting tone, “What’s the catch?” 

“Go on a date with me.” 

She almost immediately said no, but considered what this article could do for her career. Everyone in her network wanted to write about Jack Hughes, yet somehow she was the one who managed to get stuck with the assignment. Was she willing to put up with an entire date just for the chance to get new intel no one else had? 

Y/n had hoped not, but alas, she knew what she needed to do. 

“Fine,” Jack’s eyes lit up at her compliance, “Only one date, after that we split and never talk again.”

“You got it, Red.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x red #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes headcanons #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #new jersey devils #njd x reader #njd #nico hischier #dawson mercer #luke hughes #erik haula #leawrites💋

[euoniatz]

Can I request leon finding a survivor in racoon city and protecting them? ( I've never played re2 so sorry if this would never happen in the game)

sure you can!🤗 i wasn't sure if you wanted slash or not so i went somewhere in the middle, hope that's okay 💕 enjoy!

☆ leon s kennedy x reader

tags: hurt/comfort, blood and injury, protective leon, gn!reader

wordcount: 2105

<3

"thirty-three..." you count silently, hugging your knees to your chest as you shut your eyes even tighter.

you take a deep breath, hold it, and let it go. relax, a voice tells you in your mind.

there's another loud bang on the door. you try to be quiet, but your limbs flinch involuntarily and a cry slips past the hand on your mouth regardless.

"thirty-four..." you whisper into your palm, tasting the saltiness of your tears on the skin.

you're so tense it hurts, legs uncomfortably angled to fit under the same desk you've had since you were a kid and neck curled to do the same.

breathe, that voice says again, and you let go of the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

the door creaks under the weight of another thud, and you inhale sharply, instantly regretting doing so as your nose fills with the sharp stench of blood.

you let another whimper slip, inching further beneath the desk as the scratching starts back up again. it never ends, really, but in times like these it reminds you that the wooden door separating you and them won't hold forever.

you are going to die in here, you think and glance at the window, or you are going to die out there.

"thirty..." shit, where were you?

outside, the rain is pouring, slamming against the thin glass of the windowpanes as if dedicated to give you even more problems.

you're grateful your flat is on the third floor, then is instantly struck with guilt again, remembering your neighbors downstairs and the plants you used to water for them.

maybe they- your mind starts, and for the nth time you have to remind yourself: no, they didn't get out safely, no one did, you're the last person alive in racoon city - you're alone.

of course, you can't be sure of that last part, but you can't imagine anyone who's still breathing would be stupid enough to stay.

one of them starts growling into the crack in the door again, and you're reminded of where you are - curled up in the bedroom you only moved into a week ago and hiding because zombies are real and the undead version of your landlords are trying to eat your brain.

you shut your eyes with a sigh, cursing your thoughts for being so entirely unhelpful.

"one..." you start over, wondering if you'll even get to thirty this time.

except, before you can even get to two there's a loud noise. not the kind of dull thuds you've gotten used to, but something else.

a gunshot.

at first you think you're imagining things, or maybe you misheard. but then there it is again - a series of deafening pangs just below your window.

your heart races as you sit perfectly still, listening intently for any other sound as the shots go silent. a loud creak follows, old and rusted and terrifyingly familiar.

your stomach drops - you know exactly what's making that noise, remembering how the landlord showed you how the fire escape works and how the metal groaned under his weight.

something got up there, you think, panic climbing in your throat.

heavy thuds join the familiar one on the door, except they come from outside your window. this time, as the voice in your head tells you to breathe, you can't. it's as if the air has glued itself to the inside of your lungs, and you hold it there as your body aches with tension.

the snarling outside the door intensifies, and just as you recognize the heart-wrenching sound of the door panels splintering apart. quickly joining the cacophony of terror, however, is the noise of the window shattering.

you can't move, can't breathe-

BANG!

ears ringing, your mouth opens in what is only to you a soundless scream. you watch through tears as a dark smear in your vison slashes at your landlord. the man drops in front of the desk, and you flinch as something dark and wet sprays all over you.

panic muddles your mind. you thought you were prepared to die - you were wrong. it's scary and it's horrible and you hate it-

a hand touches your knee.

your eyes fly open as your leg kicks out instinctively. you watch, dazed, as a man, bloody and blond and alive, grimaces and stumbles back, cradling his stomach.

he raises his hands, maybe hoping to calm you.

it's in vain, your head is spinning and you only now recognize the sticky liquid on your skin as blood and your lungs ache as you belatedly realize you're still screaming.

the man's posture relaxes considerably once you shut your mouth and you blink, eyes flitting around your room as you struggle to process the state it's in.

you look at the bed, thinking about the old quilt at the foot of it that your dad made you when you were little. a limp body is draped over it, and you watch, horrified, as crimson red begins to pool on the floor.

the body wears a sun washed nirvana t-shirt, and you remember seeing it on the old man a floor above you before.

oh god, you think, breathing picking up again. they're dead. they're all dead-

"-y, hey, look at me," a voice startles you as the ringing in your ears subside and you catch the tail end of his words. you look over at the man, trying and failing not to look at the gore on his knife.

"okay, you're okay," he tells you, and when you meet his eyes, you're surprised to find sincerity there. he could still kill you, that voice from before pipes up, no longer comforting.

as if noticing the clarity slowly returning to you, the man nods and stands up, heading towards the door. panic strikes you suddenly and you shoot to your feet, bumping your head on the desk as the idea of being left alone here makes you tremble.

"wait!" you exclaim, surprised at the sound of your own voice so ragged and breathless. the man turns, eyes wide as he quickly gestures for you to calm down.

"hey, look, i'm just going to check the hallway," he says carefully while pointing to the broken door. "i'll be right back, okay? just stay here, ."

he waits for your shaky nod before leaving. you'd almost be grateful for the time alone to collect yourself, except you're not alone, and the two corpses in your bedroom aren't going anywhere. or at least you hope they're not.

so, standing in the centre of the bedroom you moved into a week ago, next to your dead landlord and neighbor, you hug yourself tightly and walk over the corner furthest from the door.

unfortunately it's the same corner where the window is, and you make a half-hearted effort to avoid stepping on any glass.

you flinch as another gunshot echoes from the floor above, letting a few more tears fall even as you try to calm yourself down. you knew things must be terrible, but your vivid imagination is somehow still not as bad as seeing it for yourself.

you can hear growling coming form the alley below your apartment, and instinctively glance out the window - meeting the dead eyes of a dozen walking corpses milling under the raised fire escape.

gasping sharply, you stumble away from the scene, panic increasing as your back collides with a hard surface.

"easy," the man from before says and grips your arms from behind. slowly he turns you to face him. "don't look."

you nod, somehow unbothered by his hands on your wrists as his eyes, sparkling with concern, scans your face. maybe you should be embarrassed of your cheeks blotchy with tears and puffy from how you've been rubbing your face clear of them for hours.

"i'm leon," the man introduces himself. you're grateful to put a name to the face, especially if this is the last time you see him.

you give him yours in turn, and he smiles, tells you it's a good name as his hand moves to your back and he moves you towards the door.

the hallway is in worse shape than your room, and you avert your eyes before more of the splattered blood imprint themselves on your retinas. even though this is technically still your house, you let leon guide you through it until you're sat at the kitchen table, watching him crush some herbs on a paper towel.

"i just moved here a week ago," you find yourself saying, trying not to cry again as you think about the safety of home; cursing yourself for ever leaving.

leon looks up from his plants, smiling sympathetically. "yesterday was my first day on the job."

tomorrow would've been yours. you'd been excited for your new job, but now you don't even want to imagine staying here if you even survive. you huff bitterly. "lucky us, huh?"

he laughs. "definitely."

apparently deeming his work complete, leon hands you the herbs after grabbing a handful for himself. you watch, a little stunned, as leon shoves it in his mouth and begins exaggeratedly chewing.

he gestures for you to do the same, and you hesitantly bring a bit to your dry lips, absently wondering if you're about to be poisoned.

fuck it. you throw the whole thing in your mouth, immediately wincing at the bitter taste but chewing the best you can. leon watches you intently, but doesn't comment.

"that'll make you feel better," he says and begins digging through a pouch on his hip. it takes a second, but he eventually finds what he's looking for - pulling out another knife.

you're already halfway to your feet by the time he's set it down on the table, looking at him fearfully. "please, i-"

leon looks between you and the knife, and his eyes widen. "oh, no- hey, i'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" he says carefully, showing you his hands, "it's for you, so you can protect yourself, it doesn't matter if you're not trained, it's better than nothing."

you're heart sinks at the confirmation of being left behind, that you'll have to fend for yourself from here on out. "oh," you say sitting back at the table, "okay, thank you."

leon smiles and goes back to checking through his various packs and pockets. "is there anything you need?" he asks. "you live here, right? maybe some other clothes or important medicine? i could get it for you, if you'd like."

his care only makes the idea of losing him worse. you shake your head, knowing you're being childish still. he's a survivor, he could give you tips if you weren't so busy pouting.

"we can probably find some later, don't worry," leon says and starts shamelessly raiding your cabinets. he pulls out the pack of wafers you bought the other day and stuffs it in a backpack you belatedly realize is your own.

maybe you should feel more scandalized by the daylight robbery, but you don't. you don't feel much at all, really.

leon disappears for a second long enough for you to worry but not outright spiral, since he left yours-now-his backpack on the table. when he returns, it's with one of your favorite hoodies in hand, along with a pair of trainers and some bandages from your bathroom.

he stuffs the bandages and the shoes in the bag, barely even batting an eye as he steps up in front of you and pulls the hoodies over your head. he gets some tape from god-knows-where and tapes several layers of it around your forearms and calves before you even have time to blink.

stunned you gape as he hands you the now full backpack and stands in the door, as if waiting for something.

"look," leon says after he realizes you aren't moving, "i know this is your home and all but we really gotta go..."

you furrow your brows, confused by the fact that he's even still here. "we?"

leon frowns and steps towards you. "yeah, we. what- i'm not just gonna leave you here."

"oh."

"come on." you startle at the sudden feel of a hand on yours, but quickly close your fingers around his, holding on tight. "it's time to go."

you nod, sticking close to leon as he guides you through the apartment complex and starts to show you the world, in all it's terrifying glory, again. it's scary and messy and half the time ou think you're going to die but at least you're not alone.

breathe, a voice says, familiar and supportive again. this time, you listen.

<3

psst- my writing asks are still open, go check it out if you have a request ;)

#leon kennedy #my writing #leon resident evil #resident evil #re2 leon #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy x reader #x reader #gn reader #writing requests #leon s kennedy

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

DESIRE PT.2

SUMMARY: Life was easy until you meet the eye candy of your life and the adventure with him is a hell of ride, but there is certain someone who seems to get hurt in this.

PAIRINGS: Bartender Yoongi X reader (ft Gynecologist Jungkook)

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

WARNINGS: Smut, reader is a flustered cause of course its Jungkook, eekkk Eunwoo is here as well! but he's here only for this chapter, that's it ig, Jungkook is Mia, but he soon will be here!!

SMUT WARNINGS: Doggy, blowjob, fingering, cum eating.

Note: this is inspired by a web series and I’m GONNA EDIT IT, I’m not gonna make it a whole ass 3 season containing 10-12 episodes per season and I felt like I could do something with this series. Thankyou

Work work work......

these past days it's been hell for you from the meetings and cracking up deals you were tired of it , but you still showed up every other day at the office. The interns and other employees did no good when they were asked to fill up your place when you were late for the office.

What kept you alive between this constant hectic schedule was a shot of vodka to wash down all the stress at your and the girl's favourite bar, you guys would spend the almost whole night until it was Yoongi telling you it was time to close the bar for the day.

Just like any other Friday night, you were here with your girls chatting about all the stuff which happened this week and they try to console you saying it's all right and you will pass through it, both of the girls then reach over to give you a warm hug.

Spending a few hours with them Chae gets a call from her husband telling her that he desperately needs help with the 3-year-old. “I'm sorry guys I have to leave, Yu-Jin seems to have a fever and she needs me” Chae says grabbing her purse and getting ready to leave.

Telling Chae a very goodbye and telling her to take care, Yuna is the next one to leave after she gets a call from her girlfriend, she hesitates to look at you, and you tell her it is fine and she can leave, she initiated a small hug and presses kiss on your forehead before she apologizes again.

Feeling alone in this busy bar, you see a busy Yoongi serving drinks on the countertop with Taehyung right beside him, maybe he saw you staring at him so you wave your hand and ask him if it's okay if you can come and sit there, he says he's more than happy to have you there.

"Hey, miss how are you? doing okay?" Yoongi asks before serving the last customer for the time being and telling Taehyung to look after them, "I'm okay I guess work is killing me, the meetings and the deals and whatnot is what I'm bored of you tell me?" Sighing you wait for him to answer, and he chuckles and says he's completely fine.

Yoongi places two glasses in front of you one for him and the other one for you of course, pouring in some of your favourite Japanese malts you chug it down with a “Cheers” Groaning at the taste he brings up some fries on the side and you thank him for being considerate.

"I'm bored yoongi, I wanna go on a trip or something." The tipsy you come out of you, and you slur occasionally while speaking “Calm down y/n, it's enough shall I call a cab for you?” Ever so sweet Yoongi asks you just because you are out of it after having the shots you had with the girls and the three glasses of malt with yoongi.

Yoongi soon books a cab and tells the man to drop you at the place, you reach your home soon after the fifteen minutes of the ride just to see your ex- fuck buddy right outside your house.

“Eunwoo? What the fuck? when did you come back?” Your mood instantly lights up after seeing him after so long and all the tipsiness goes away. “Hey y/n, I landed a few hours ago and thought of visiting you first and right when I was about to call you, here you were” He says with a bright smile.

You intended to initiate “Just a hug” but you don't know how he is under the sheets right now eating you out like a hungry man, “fuck right there woo” you moan and reach a good orgasm after a long time, your vibrator did no good until you felt a tongue or fingers or even someone's dick at this point.

Upon reaching your orgasm the man between you now hovers above you with his lips drenched in your release, and grabs on his hard length and positions right where your hole clenches, the release makes the slide just perfect for him to slide inside you and a moan tremble from his lips.

“Yeah perfect, keep going,”you say and grab on the small wisps of hair on the back of his head, and he grunts at the tight fit making him almost “relax angel, I promise I'll be good just please....”soft moans leave his mouth and both cum at the same time.

After a few minutes, Eunwoo lays on the side of your bed and talks to you until an awkward silence fills in and you call his name softly “Eunwoo...” sighing he gets up and leaves the bed and soon goes to grab his clothes and place a last kiss on your cheeks before telling you goodbye.

You sigh feeling bad for telling him to go but yeah you were always like this, and he knows it well just like that waking up from the bed you grab on the new sheets to change and place soft pillows all over your big bed and go back to sleep peacefully.

THE NEXT MORNING

“Hey hi! I'd like to order a butter croissant and black coffee” You get the cash ready and tell the counter women to take your order, not realizing you hear someone calling your full name and when you turn around to see it no one then "Mr. jeon your gynaecologist."

With a flustered smile, you tell him a quick "hi" before paying her the bill and getting off the line, you didn't expect him to get off the line with you, in a flustered state you ask him if he lives here and all the stuff and grab your order just to tell her she can pack this as a takeaway.

Rolling her eyes she packs up the drink and food and gives you the bag while Jungkook just gives you a crooked smile and walks out “Hey by the way I got my period last week” you tell him, and it gets more than awkward it was earlier.

“Oh, that's great, good to see you” Jungkook says, and you wave a quick bye when you get a call from your coworker and leave the place Jungkook stands there, and a smirk paints his lips.

This is the fourth time you are pissed at your coworker today; they fucked up the most important file “Can you at least get me a copy of the papers?” you ask again getting disappointed again “Sorry ma'am I didn't get the photocopies of it” Your intern says and you just sigh.

“Okay maybe try searching the file again, and if not I'll contact the clients and tell them to send the original copies,” you tell and dismiss the meeting, at this point, you need nothing more than a cold martini.

“Can you believe Chae, they misplaced the fucking file, I'm glad they weren't the original or else I would've been fucked” you say very much pissed at the events which happened today, while Chae and Yuna just sip on their drinks after trying to calm you down.

“Chill baby, everything's going to be fine you need to calm down y/n” your friends tell you and you just sigh, you long for nothing more but a break from this bullshit, paying up for the drinks today you say goodbye to your friends and go ahead to meet yoongi, who is the position of cleaning up for the day.

“Hey, how are you y/n?” Yoongi asks in a very yoongi manner his front teeth appearing when he talks to you, and you tell him all the events happening with you while he places two glasses of whiskey in front of you.

You don't even notice it is past one a.m. until Eunwoo texts you.

EUNWOO🫣🫣: hey, you up?

YOU: busy right now.

YOU: rain check?

"Another glass?" you ask him after chugging down the remaining glass while Yoongi hesitates and tells you he needs to stock up for a party which is happening tomorrow, you give him an embarrassed smile and tell him it is fine, and you will leave Yoongi feels equally embarrassed to cut you off for the night.

YOU: Free now, will be in 15 mins.

"Fuck right there" you moan at your ex- fuck buddy who is fucking you like a slut, your face down facing the sheets while he hammers from the back, his moans and grunts fill the room, and the room smells of sex and sweat.

"Fuck baby, you are so tight, missed me while I was away, right?" Eunwoo mutters while thrusting inside you and you choke on your moans and manage to mumble a small "yes" clenching on the sheets you cry for more, you needed this after a long day at work.

"Gonna cum.....ye-ah right there" you shutter at one point when he finds your g -spot, the slapping of his hips fastens just when you cum and cream his cock, and the man behind you slows and pulls out a bit just to see the creamy slick forming at the base, "fuck so messy y/n," Eunwoo says while he fills you up with his hot cum.

"On your back baby," he says, and you obey at lightning speed and your eyes shut at the moment when he nibbles on your pebbled nipples, you twitch at the feeling until you moan out loud when his thumb rubs on your clit and his index finger enters you.

Your pussy gushes out the mixture of both of your releases and messes up the sheets under you, Eunwoo continues to slurp and nibble your nipples while you whine at the overstimulation and fall apart on his fingers again for the second time in the night.

"lay down wanna suck you off real good" you whisper and kiss his lips in the heat of the moment, now that you are in between his thighs you start laying some soft kisses all over the tip and he whines at the sensitivity.

The taste of your releases still lingers on his tip, and you whimper at the taste, sucking on the tip Eunwoo above you is about to lose on for the second time, his soft grunts surrounded the room as you palmed and layed soft kisses on his balls.

The tightness of the grip he has on your hair ensures you that he is about to cum and increase your pace in palming him and you soon let him cum in your mouth and you swallow like a good girl you were.

You don't know why you let Eunwoo stay even after it was ruled to never let any fuck buddy stay at your house after fucking but here you are in his embrace and cuddling him.

A/N: Thank you for the reading ik it is confusing not Appeling ending or the whole chapter I'm sry but I'll do better. tag list is open.

TAGLLIST: @jungk97kwife @kingofbodyrolls @kimmingyuswifee @heyyymin @cassies-cookies @missnea @kooklovee @lovkiss @jungkooktoespost @jalexad @gimeow @lillove7 @marvelbun @namelesskeid @tyche0119 @gbbhbc123 @whoa-jo @holybxba @bangtans-momma @gdjyho @kpopsmutty69

#jungkook fic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfics #bts smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jjk series #yoongi #min yoongi #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fan fiction #jungkook smut #eunwoo smut #cha eunwoo x reader #cha eunwoo smut #leedongmin #astro eunwoo #astro smut #cha eunwoo #eunwoo #kpop smut #smut #series #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic

[kiwisbell]

Whiskey Sour

chapter four: between the sheets

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 7.7k

a/n: let the fucking commence!

chapter 4: between the sheets

Joel's birthday.

Your car is still in the shop by Monday—Joel’s birthday—so you’ll be sleeping at your dad’s place. 

And so will Joel. 

“Is this what you guys usually do for birthdays?” you ask, looking up from your studying toward your dad, who's stocking the cooler with beer. “Drink, eat, and watch TV until you rot or pass out?”

“Any better ideas?” 

You roll your eyes. “Guess not.”

He opens the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t have a piece of—”

“Do. Not. Eat that cake,” you warn without looking up from your textbook. 

“Jesus. Bossy.”

“That’s Joel’s cake, Dad.” You look at him over the couch and grin. “Once he gets the first piece, you can pig out.”

“I didn't say pig out,” he mumbles. 

There's a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” you offer, jumping upright and knocking your textbook off your lap. 

“Did you have an extra shot of espresso in your coffee this morning?” calls your father from the kitchen, but you're already in the foyer, opening the door for Joel. 

He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a grey T-shirt, as usual, but wears them so nicely it's almost as exciting as a new outfit altogether. You opted for one of your sundresses, white and printed with daisies. “Hi,” you say, sounding more out-of-breath than you feel. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

Fuck, this dress. Is he supposed to sit right next to you all night without reaching his hands under that flowy little skirt? It’s his goddamn birthday—he should be able to do whatever he wants to with whatever you offer him. But Mike’s here, in between the two of you, forever. So, all he can do is kiss the top of your head and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”

You beam up at him, and he’s not going to last the night when you look like this, dress like this. “You’ll love the cake,” you tell him, ushering him into the kitchen. 

“Happy birthday, you old asshole.” Mike pulls him into a hug and slaps him on the back. 

Joel chuckles. “Real nice, man.” 

“Don't mind my kid.” He jerks his head in your direction, where you've settled yourself on the couch again, surrounded and engulfed by textbooks and notebooks. “She doesn't know how to relax.”

“I know how to relax,” you say, nose still buried in your work. Joel knows you do. He helped you relax just a few nights ago. “Unless you two want to write this test for me, I’ll be multitasking tonight.”

Joel and Mike crack open a bottle each of Sam Adams and clink them together. “To gettin’ old,” says Mike. 

I’m the one who sat your daughter on my lap and made her come all over me. Can a young, stupid kid do that? Joel just grins, feeling a little bit of primordial pride. “To friends who should learn to shut the fuck up.” 

They drink at the same time, and you hold up a glass of water from your spot on the couch in cheers. “To being around long enough to remember when the Colosseum was built.”

Oh, you think you’re real fuckin’ funny. He’s got half a mind to drag you upstairs and stuff your mouth with his cock just to make you remember how good he makes you feel. Maybe it’ll fix that attitude; maybe it’ll just quiet you down for a bit. Joel shares a look with Mike, who’s trying not to laugh. “She said it.”

Mike sits in the chair next to the television before Joel can subtly usher him into the seat next to yours. He sets his jaw, lowering himself next to you, the corner of a textbook briefly jabbing him in the ass. If he looks long enough, he will see that your skirt has slipped up your thighs and the barest sliver of your ass is visible from where he sits. He would not know, of course, because he isn't looking. 

“Can we do gifts now?” you ask, biting your lip to hide your excitement. Joel’s heart squeezes at the thought of getting a present from you. 

Arms around his neck. Layers of clothing between you. Your body rubbing up against him, taking what you want. Sweet moans that hang from the ceiling of his brain. Stalactites. 

What more could you give him? 

“I don't see why not,” says Mike. “But since best goes last, you should give your present first.”

You roll your eyes and set all your things on the table, leaning over the armrest to produce a giant gift bag brimming with blue tissue paper. Joel, of course, does not look at the shape of your ass in his face. “Blue’s your favourite colour,” you tell him. 

It is. He doesn't even remember telling you. Joel takes out the tissue paper and pulls out the first item. It's a cowboy hat, tied with ribbon to a green plaid-patterned flannel. 

He looks at your pretty, smiling face. “In case you want to go back to your roots,” you supply. “I could see how much you missed the farm you grew up on, and I think you'd look great in a cowboy hat.”

Joel’s throat is tightening. “Thank you,” he says hoarsely. 

The next item makes him frown. It's bright pink and slightly squishy and—

“A yoga mat,” he says. Mike snorts, hiding it behind his beer bottle. 

“It matches mine!” He recalls the mat in your bedroom the day he helped you unpack your things. The tight black pants moulded to your ass. Do you want him to do yoga with you? “I know you've got a bad back, and it really helps reduce pain. Plus, flexibility is always important.”

Joel wants to bend you over that goddamn armrest and leave bruises on your ass in the shape of his fingerprints. You're awfully fucking bold, making him picture you folded in half and sweating, right in front of your father. But it's thoughtful. It really is. You want to help take away his pain, as if you don’t do that with every second you're in the same room as him. “Might have to teach me,” he says. 

“I’m a fantastic teacher, luckily for you.” You clap your hands together and tuck them under your chin, and he's falling, listing, into a place he cannot crawl out of. “Open the last one.”

It’s in an envelope—whatever it is. Joel gently tugs out the piece of paper inside and reads it. The lump in his throat has migrated to his eyes, prickling the nerves behind his nose. “You named a star after me?”

“Shit,” says Mike. “I should've gone first.”

“It’s official and everything,” you tell him. “NASA has this program. I thought it might be cool to look up and know one of them belongs to you.”

He’s getting fucking soft with age. Joel clears his throat, his fingers trembling a little as he puts everything safely back in the bag and meets your gaze. He wishes Mike weren't here. He wishes he could pull you up against him and show you exactly how fast his heart is racing. You know him. You're so kind, so thoughtful, so bright. He doesn't deserve to have these things, but Jesus, he needs you so badly it aches. He doesn't just want you. He likes you. He’s excited by you and he’s nervous around you. 

How can he simply move beyond a feeling like this? He doesn't think it’s possible for a person to walk past you on the street and simply forget. You demand attention. You deserve it. 

“Thank you,” he says, because there's nothing else to say. He's a man of action. He will show you his gratitude. But it will have to wait, and so will he. 

Your eyes twinkle, and somehow he knows that you're thinking the same thing. “Happy birthday, Joel.”

Mike's gift to him is a new toolkit, since his current one is approximately as old as you, and a new nine iron, “since your back will be on the mend soon and you can hit the course with me again.”

You wrinkle your nose. “You’re such a guy, Dad.”

“Yeah?” He pulls you into him, attacking your head and your cheeks with a flurry of kisses as you squeal with laughter. “That'll show you, smartass.”

Joel cannot ruin this. But he finds he doesn't have many reservations about ruining you for every other man you'll ever meet. He’s going to be selfish with you tonight. It’s his birthday, after all. 

The doorbell chimes its broken melody, and you open the door to find an unfamiliar man staring down at you with a crooked smile on his face. He has shoulder-length dark hair and brown eyes, and he's wearing a denim jacket, holding up a six-pack of the same beer Joel and your father are drinking. 

“Well, hello,” he says. He's certainly Texan. 

“Hi,” you return politely, though it sounds a bit like a question. “I’m sorry, I don't think we’ve…”

“Sorry, darlin’. Tommy Miller.” He’s quick to shake your hand, and your brows shoot up. Now you know why you recognise that smile of his. 

You can't help but grin up at him. Good looks must run in the family. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tommy.”

“You must be Mike’s girl.” He clicks his tongue, giving you a quick once-over. His eyes glimmer with something you can almost call mischief. “I like your dress.”

You lift your brows. “I like your double denim. Very with the times.”

“Tommy, stop harassing her,” says your father from behind you. “Good to see you, man.”

He and Tommy slap their palms together in a purely male handshake while you take the beer from him and hurry back to the kitchen. “Your brother’s here,” you tell Joel in a hushed voice. “Didn't tell me he was so handsome.”

He cocks his head to the side, leaning his hip on the counter. “Yeah? He tell you he liked your dress?” 

“He did.”

“That's his favourite.” Joel steps closer to you and you have to tilt your chin up to see him better. “He once said that to a girl who was wearin’ pants.”

You let the laugh slip out before you can stop it. “He brought you beer.” You lift the case onto the counter. “He must be good for something.”

“Yeah.” A hand slips indecently between your thighs and two fingers snap the waistband of your panties (white and lacy, because you need to have a little fun). “Toyin’ around with what ain’t his,” he says gruffly. 

You gasp, practically jumping back from him when your dad and Tommy enter the kitchen. If you look flushed or nervous, neither of them say a word. Joel hugs his brother. “Good of you to finally show up.”

“Jackass.” Tommy claps him hard on the back a couple times. “If I’d known such a pretty lady was here, I’d have dressed better.”

Your cheeks feel warm at his unabashed flirting. He’s not a lot younger than Joel, but he's certainly got the brashness of someone who is. Joel pulls him into a headlock while your father ruffles Tommy’s perfect hair. “If you flirt with my daughter, Miller, you’ll have to match your nice outfits to your bruises.”

Tommy laughs, wriggling out of the headlock and giving you a wink as he smooths his hair down. “I think I look good in black.”

Tommy’s always had a bark five times the size of his bite, but Joel isn't fond of the teasing. Sure, he knows it's only teasing, getting a rise out of his brother, but he doesn't like the way you blush for him. “All right, I’m calling in the food.” Mike picks up the receiver and points at Tommy. “Don’t think I don’t mean it, dickhead.”

Tommy lifts his hands in surrender and Joel shoves him in the side with an elbow for good measure. You sit back down with your pile of books, and the younger Miller lowers himself next to you, breaking your concentration with all his questioning and schmoozing. 

Joel grits his teeth. If he can't get a fucking second alone with you tonight, he’ll burn up from the inside. He takes a swig of his beer to cool down as you politely entertain Tommy’s conversation. He’s sleeping in the guest room tonight because you offered to take the couch. It’s his birthday, you told Mike, and his back will thank him. 

The rest of the party is pleasant. The guys eat wings while you pluck away at a caesar salad, refusing to get your hands dirty if you're touching your books all night. Tommy leaves around ten, and Joel and Mike are both somewhat drunk by the time midnight rolls around. 

It’s two o’clock in the morning, no longer his birthday, when he sneaks downstairs. He feels mostly sober now, chugging back a glass of water at the sink. Mike’s been asleep for an hour or so, but you haven't. In fact, you're still working, sitting upright on the couch with the lamp on as you study. Joel’s stomach sinks. The salad from hours earlier is not even half-eaten. You’re yawning every minute, rubbing at your eyes as you attempt to finish your problem set. 

You hear a noise from the kitchen and look up to find Joel standing, watching, at the counter. “Hi,” you say in a groggy voice. 

“Oh, baby,” he says, meeting you at the couch and sitting next to you. His hand finds your thigh, at last, squeezing and kneading your flesh like he's wanted to do all night. It feels like victory: restraint paying off. It feels like his erratic heartbeat can finally settle. “You gotta sleep. This ain't healthy.”

“Chemistry doesn't sleep,” you say with a pout. He wants to nibble that pout right off your lips. Your eyes are lidded and reddish. “Looks like you don’t, either.”

Joel plucks the notebook out of your hands and sets it on the table. “Enough,” he says softly, his hand winding around your waist and resting on your lower back. He relishes the way your body melts, your shoulders sinking and your spine decompressing under his warm palm. “C’mere, baby.”

You go easily onto his lap, your dress bunching around your hips. His mere closeness raises goosebumps on your arms, your legs, his large hand caressing your right thigh. He was right; you're so fucking soft. 

Your eyes blink sleepily at him, your fingers threading through his brown-silver locks. “I like your hair,” you whisper. “I like your eyes and your smile and your moustache.”

Joel’s hand finds the crease between your thigh and your hip. He rubs circles into your hip bone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your thumb traces his mouth, your touch so reverent even in your half-asleep haze, and he will never have enough of you. “Would feel so good… between my legs.”

His cock is stirring in his pants again, warmed by your telltale heat. “You know how hard it was not to touch you today?” He keeps his voice quiet, knowing Mike’s snoring away upstairs, knowing you're both playing with fire. “This fuckin’ dress. You wanted to tease me?”

“I wanted…” You gasp when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. It swirls around his head and turns it fuzzy. You’re an aphrodisiac. “I wanted you to touch me. Just like this.”

He huffs into your throat, his strong nose guiding the path of his mouth. He cares little for caution when you smell the way you do— taste the way you do. His tongue darts out to place open-mouthed kisses up the veins in your throat, your pulse fluttering under his attention. You are the heady pull of closing eyes at dusk and the sweetness of dessert. 

Your hips grind against his cock the more he kisses his way up your neck, your wet pussy soaking through your little white panties. You feel so much closer to him than the last time, his need thick and insistent against you. He reaches the spot below your ear, sucking at a spot that makes you clutch the back of his head and press him to you, your cunt slick with your arousal. He grunts into your skin, licking and nibbling your earlobe, marking your body as he sinks further into the senseless plane of desire and he forgets that he isn't supposed to be doing this. 

“Joel,” you whisper, urging him back to look into his pitch-black eyes. “I want you to kiss me.”

No sane man can look into those sleep-soaked eyes and say no to you. He tips his chin up and presses his lips to yours. It's soft, gentle, and it feels like Rapture. 

He cradles the back of your head and gently pries open your mouth for him to lick into, sliding his tongue along yours as your breathing shifts and little gasps pour like honey from your throat. This is what he needs. This is the line that will reel his soul back up from hell. 

Your lips are soft and your skin burns for him. His hands become needier, bunching your dress higher up your hips so he can guide his fingers higher up your thighs, squeezing your ass and shifting to the juncture of your thighs. The white lace. He keeps your mouth against him as he toys with the waistband, feeling it give and slide under his touch. 

Your sighs send blood surging down to his cock until there's nothing left in his brain. All he knows is finding a way to get more: drawing more of those noises from you, coaxing more pleasure out of your body, giving you so much of him that you’ll never want anyone else. 

Joel groans softly into your mouth and breaks away to put his mouth to your jaw, your chin, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back so he can have better access to your throat. 

“Oh, my—” Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a stripe up your throat, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, every mild touch electrifying your body. 

He reaches your sternum, right above the neckline of this godforsaken dress, roughly tugging down the straps off your shoulders so he can finally— finally —see your pretty tits for himself. It isn't a dream this time. The dress pools around your waist, sitting on his lap in your father’s home, rocking your hips against his stiff cock and looking so fucking tired, so fucking beautiful, that he wants to sink right into you and become one. It’s the only way to cure this itch. 

He can never be close enough. 

“Joel.” Your fingers are still in his hair as he kisses all the way down your chest, a rough hand grasping your ribs and rubbing a thumb over your hard nipple. He’s taking his time exploring you, his hand secure around the base of your neck, the other adventuring across the planes and curves of you, indulging because he finally can. You let him, because it’s not his birthday anymore, but he’s been so patient. He's waited so long. 

And fuck, it feels good. Every tweak of your nipples, every playful nibble and suck sends jolts of pleasure to your cunt, the only spot of you he hasn't yet admired. Joel’s mouth finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it before he sucks it into his mouth. “Fuck.” It's more of a squeak this time, less of a whisper, and he squeezes your ribcage as if to stop your lungs from expanding, as if to say, Quiet. 

“That feels good,” you gasp, your head falling back, the back of your neck still warmed by the press of his palm. “Dreamed about this.”

You're waking up, though still a bit groggy, with everything he gives you. He kisses his way back to the hollow of your throat and looks up at you with those deep brown eyes, glimmering silver in the moonlight. “So have I,” he says. 

“You don't sleep.”

“No,” he agrees. The hand at your neck slides down to your lower back, to your ass, where he presses you down onto him. The graze of his zipper against your clit makes stars burst behind your eyes. Joel cocks his head. “Why do you think I can’t sleep lately, hmm? It’s because you wake me up. You and your body.” Another roll of your hips makes you drop your forehead to his. He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Can’t fuckin’ sleep when you're all I'm thinkin’ about, now, can I?”

You bite your lip, but this time, he can do something about it. He nudges his nose against your cheek and fits his mouth to yours. He dreams about you. He thinks of you. He wants you. 

“I don’t sleep much, either,” you tell him when he lets you up for air. 

“I know,” he says softly. You hold onto his wrist when he cups your face. “Such a thinker. You gotta let yourself go, baby. Let yourself feel.” 

“I…” His cock is so hard. It’s a strong, thick pressure against your thigh, catching on your clit with each drag of your hips. You won't come like this again; you need him to feel good. “I want you in my mouth.”

You can feel him twitch against you, his pulse hammering against your mouth as you suck on his pressure point. “Jesus.” His hands fly to your hips. “Baby, I… Goddamn, we can’t… can’t risk it.”

He's right, of course. It doesn't stop you from grinding down against him and nibbling his lobe. “But it's your birthday.”

“Not—fuck, not anymore.”

“I want you to feel good,” you whisper, your breath hot against his cheek. 

“Jesus Christ.” He pulls you away, looking you hard in the eyes. “When I fuck you, baby, I want to hear you. I want to make you scream. I can’t do that here.” His mouth seeks yours, slow and sweet. “Lie down.”

Your eyes close on instinct when he kisses you, but your confusion lingers. “What…” 

“Lie down, and go to sleep.” He kisses your forehead, and it feels like finality. “Tomorrow night, when you get off work, I’m comin’ to pick you up.”

You shift reluctantly off his lap, resting your head on the arm of the couch and spreading your legs slightly so he can get a look at the wet patch on your panties. Your tired eyes are doe-like in the darkness. “And?” you ask, trailing your foot up his thigh. 

“And…” His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, shucking them down your legs and leaving you bare underneath. You watch him with black eyes and a heaving chest as he stuffs your panties in his pocket. “I want you to wear that black thong you've got. You know the one I’m talkin’ about?”

You swallow. He’s seen your underwear collection? “Yes,” you say breathlessly. 

“I never thanked you,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to your soaking wet cunt and spreading your folds open, “properly. That was one hell of a birthday gift, baby.”

You can’t help but smile. “I want you to be happy.” 

Two fingers slide languidly through your wetness, making you twitch. “I’m real happy,” he says, “when you're with me.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 

“Joel,” you whine, spreading your thighs wider, inviting him to touch you even though you know he can't. You know it's wrong. 

“Tomorrow night.” He's tired of denying himself of you. He's tired of letting you go on thinking there isn't a soul in this world who's willing to fight for your affection. “Go to sleep.”

For good measure, he closes the textbook on the table and stands up, leaving you wet, wanting, and dreaming of the promise of tomorrow. 

~

You’re quivering with anticipation when you hop up into the passenger’s seat in your little skirt and little black thong. 

“Show me,” is how he greets you, his eyes sliding lazily toward you and taking in your whole body. His jaw ticks as you slip the hem of your skirt up above your hips and show him the scrap of lace tucked between your cheeks. Apparently satisfied, he pulls out of the parking lot and drives you to his home. 

Inside, too impatient to bother flicking on the lights, he pushes you up against the front door and kisses you hard. His hands slide up your back as you wind your arms around his neck, your lips parting to welcome his tongue and feed your contented sighs into his mouth. Fuck, you're tense, your shoulders tight and your leg muscles strained from being on your feet all night. When his hands begin to wander, you have a feeling he knows exactly where you're hurting. 

You whisper his name, passing it from your throat to his mouth, and you realise it's the first word either of you have spoken since you got in his truck tonight. He growls your name, not once letting you up for air as his hands feel up your arms, your spine, your ribs, the flare of your hips. He touches your body like it's marble, and kisses you like you're water: he could chip you away, and you could slip right through his fingers, but you're here, and he cups you so gently in his palm that the marble will not crack. The water will not drip. 

All of the windows and doors are closed. All of the curtains are drawn, the lights off. But he wants you in his bedroom. He wants you where he knows the world will wait patiently outside a closed door and he’ll never have to worry about another soul seeing you the way he wants to see you tonight. He turns you around, backing you toward his room as you stumble to keep pace. All the while, his hands never leave your body, and his mouth never offers reprieve. His moustache and his beard scratch you, merciless, unrelenting. 

Kicking the door shut behind him, Joel kisses you until your lips are swollen and your pupils are so wide they engulf your irises. He cradles your head in his hand, and you place your palm to his heart. 

“You're wearing it,” you say with a grin. “The shirt I bought you.”

“Sorry I couldn't wear the hat.” Joel kisses his way from your cheek to your earlobe, nibbling slightly before he changes his trajectory downward. 

“That's okay,” you sigh, holding him to you as he playfully bites your collarbone. “I want you naked, anyway.”

He chuckles into your neck. “You first.”

His hand finds your ass, squeezing roughly over your little skirt. “Teasin’ me,” he grunts, grabbing at the fabric, so blind with need that he can't think straight long enough to find the waistband. Instead, he’s pulling the skirt up and over your ass just to grab handfuls of your soft flesh. “Jesus, you're beautiful.”

“What did you do with them?” Your soft voice breaks in half when he snaps the band of your thong against your hip. “The panties you took.”

“You wanna know?” Joel finally yanks down your skirt, leaving you in your shirt and that pathetic black fabric barely covering your pussy. “I took out my cock and I jerked off into them. Came on your pretty white lace, thinkin’ about the way you looked last night.”

Your breathing stutters, your grip tightening around the collar of his flannel shirt. “Fuck. Take this off, please.”

So polite. So sweet. Joel clicks his tongue, backing you toward the bed. “Arms up,” he orders. 

You obey so easily, letting him drag your shirt over your head. Joel unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, squeezing your tits in his rough hands and splaying his fingers over your ribcage. “I think about you,” he says lowly, “when I’m sleepin’. When I’m awake. When I’m supposed to be workin’. You have any idea how much company time you've lost me?”

You giggle, crowding him so you can press your lips to his throat. “You're your own boss. No such thing as company time.”

“Such a smart fuckin’ mouth.” He hooks his thumb in the band of your thong, his other hand grasping your chin. “You gonna be good and listen to me? Let me help you feel good?”

There's a change in your eyes. Pouring cold metal into a cast and watching it melt. Reshaping it into something soft, malleable, warm.  “Yes, Joel.”

Fuck, if that doesn't send all of his blood soaring to his cock. Joel smiles down at you. “Take ‘em off, baby.”

You back away to give yourself enough room, looking right into his eyes as you make a show of sliding your thong down your legs, stepping out of it and lowering yourself onto the bed. He takes his eyes on a path over your stiff nipples, your pretty, glistening cunt on display for him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and it makes you push your chest forward with a bit of pride knowing he likes you like this. 

“My beautiful girl.” He steps close to you, nudging your legs open so he can stand between them. You're naked for him. You're on his bed, wet and wanting for him. There is no compromise when it comes to you: he cannot let another man see you like this. A selfish man guards his treasures. A selfish man does not want, because he does not give away what he has. 

You sit primly on the edge, peering up at him with a pleading look in your eye. “Let me undress you.” You pop open a button on his shirt. “Please, Joel.”

He likes the sound of your begging, so he nods, allowing you to indulge, your fingers slipping the shirt off his broad shoulders. “So handsome,” you muse, dispensing with the flannel and putting your lips to his chest, his soft stomach, the freckles on his body that you've never been so lucky to see until now. He’s beautiful. He is the sum of years you've never seen, the experience of a man who's made his way in the world with his strong, capable body. He is the only man you ever want to know so intimately. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, backing away to take in the sight of your naked body. “Let me see you.”

And fuck, you want to make him so happy. You want to make him proud, make him feel good. Your hand slides leisurely down your body as you maintain eye contact, tracing the path from your sternum to your navel. His eyes look black in the darkness. You ease your thighs open, giving him a good view when you finally dip two fingers between your folds and bring them to your mouth, licking up your wetness. Slicked up with saliva, your fingers circle easily over your clit, your eyes fluttering and your head falling against the pillows. 

“That feels good,” you tell him, pinching your nipple. “Fuck, Joel, I need you. I need you.”

“You’ll get me, sweetheart. Just keep goin’.” He likes watching, it seems, making you go a little crazy, making you teeter precariously on an edge you'll never tip over. You push two fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your palm against your clit. Your moan turns high-pitched, your core burning with need you cannot satiate. Not when he's so close, looking at you, forcing you to touch yourself when all you know is the fire only he can stoke. 

But that's what he wants. He wants you to know that he’s got you liquified in the little pool in the palm of his hand. You're his. “You…” Rubbing your clit slowly, you try to meet his eyes even though yours are closing. “You get off on this? Sick bastard.”

Joel tuts. “Did I say to close your eyes?”

“Joel, I—”

“Keep. Your eyes. Open.” You increase your pace, your hips bucking a little into your hand, and peel your eyes open. “Keep ‘em on me. Just like that.”

“I need…” You sigh in frustration, trying to give him your best pitiful look even though you know it's fruitless. You’re putty in his hands. You'll touch yourself for as long as he wants you to, even if you never come. “I need…”

“Say it,” he says, and you hate how soft he sounds. The kiss of a warm breeze at nighttime, the silvery wisps of air that curl up from between lips at the intake of the cigarette smoke. He coaxes you, coos at you, and it could be mocking, if he didn't like you so damn much. “Say what you need, baby.”

“I need to come, Joel. I need you. Fuck, I need you to touch me. I’ll… I’ll die if you don't touch me.”

Joel lifts his brows. Spoiled. You’re fucking spoiled and it's all his fault. It's your fault he's so hard, close to ripping a seam in his goddamn jeans, his cock throbbing and leaking precum. “Tell me why you're so fuckin’ wet. Tell me why you're cryin’.”

“You!” Head tossed back on the pillows. Eyes barely open, tears blurring your vision. Fingers frantically rubbing your poor clit to no avail. “You, Joel. You. It’s you. I’m yours.”

That. 

That's what he wanted to fucking hear. 

Joel unzips his jeans and disposes of them so fast it's like they're ablaze. Your fingers slow their relentless pace on your clit to watch his thick, hard cock slap up against his stomach. “No underwear?” you rasp. “That’s a little whorish of you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel grabs your ankle and manoeuvres you so you're lying flat on your back. You yelp, arousal shooting pants of pleasure through your body at his manhandling. “You wanna fuckin’ talk?” he grunts, crawling onto the bed and situating himself between your legs just so he can bite down on the flesh of your inner thigh. Your whole body jolts with shock.

He holds firmly into your thighs, leaving wet kisses from your navel to your needy clit. It's where he's wanted to be since the first fantasy. The first dream. The first sight. You look down at him, silver locks of hair shining in the darkness, and your gaze is so reverent that his heart wants to beat its wings and unshackle itself. A heart cannot be contained with a look like that—it must go free. It must expand. 

Your fingers thread gently through his hair, and it’s all the affirmation he needs. Somewhere in the air between you, two hands lock, and two souls intertwine. 

His tongue is hot between your slick folds. There are already tears in your eyes from your teasing, but it's something different altogether when Joel’s mouth finds your clit. The pleasure is so hot it freezes your veins. You're locked in place, the space between your brows creasing, your mouth falling open, as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 

Defibrillator. Each measured lick is a patch wrapped around a rib, a nerve, a muscle. Each administration hurls you through space. You're crashing into the stars on the way, bright white flashing behind your eyes. 

Tactile. The scratch of his beard and moustache rubs your soft skin raw. Your smell, your taste, tang and potency and the nectar of your sweet, soft gasps. He's spreading you open on a banquet table. He's licking into your cunt and making you mewl like a whore. He’s making you feel so good, so wanted, so happy. 

He can't be going to hell. Hell is not the taste of you. Hell is not the way you fist his hair or cry his name. Hell is not—has never been—your face, your body, your voice. Hell does not know the shape of you. 

This is the other place. 

His tongue circles your slick entrance, but it does not push past. Not yet. He moves back up toward your clit, dragging his tongue across each electrified nerve over and over and over—

His fingers bruise your thighs. His grip does not relent. Neither does yours. You cry his name, wet and gasping, a drowning woman seeking the muffled, distorted light above the surface. Joel’s lips seal around your clit, sucking and lapping at the rest of you until you're shaking and he can barely hold on. 

He does not stop when your orgasm crests. When your chest heaves in a ragged moan that sounds like pulling an open wound over broken piano strings. When your body stiffens, then relaxes, riding out the rhythm like a heartbeat as you come with such force that the pleasure has nowhere to go. Only up. Up. Up—

He isn't stopping. He's closed his eyes, drowning your anchor, forcing you to squeeze your own shut. He keeps going —licking broad stripes through your pussy, making out with it like he's fucking drunk off the taste of you. 

He’s drunk. He registers your orgasm, but he does not register that he needs to pull back, let you rest, fit his cock inside you to relieve his own arousal. He can hear your weak, whimpering cries, can feel the way you jerk against him when his nose nudges your sensitive clit. He cannot grasp anything except this. You taste so fucking good. You taste like relief. You taste like all the chances he wants to take. 

“Joel, I…” You're so weak you can barely speak, pushing him closer to your cunt, letting him take you even though you're not sure you can—

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs tremble as you come a second time under his expert tongue. Joel grunts, apparently satisfied this time, finally lifting his head up from between your legs and pressing kisses from your thighs to your calves. He lifts himself up to his knees, securing your thighs around his hips. 

His cockhead taps your cunt, a small puddle of precum gathering on your pretty clit. Just because he can, he grabs the base of his cock and smears the pearly white liquid over your pussy, notching himself at your hole. 

You catch a glimpse of how his girth dwarfs your tight entrance and your eyes widen. “Joel… you’re…” 

“I know,” he says. “You gonna be okay?”

A steely determination settles in the crease of your brow, and you hug your thighs tighter around his hips. “I can take it.”

That's his girl. Joel pushes his hips forward, watching your hole seal over the head, wet and fucking warm. “Jesus,” he mutters. Your head falls back and your eyes flutter. 

“Focus right here, baby,” he says, patting your cheek. You struggle to keep your eyes open, looking right into his as he feeds his cock into you. 

You gasp, blinking away tears as he bottoms out, so thick and heavy you can feel him in your belly. And he’s so smug, the bastard, giving you that wicked smirk. When he rolls his hips, pushing the head of his cock so deep that it kisses your womb, you choke on your moan. “You’re… such an… asshole.”

“Tell me all about it,” he says, securing his hand on the back of your thigh and pushing it toward your chest. The angle deepens, stars soaring across your vision, and he begins to fuck you. 

It's the cloying haze of ecstasy. Being inside you burns holes through him, cigarettes on skin. He's vaguely aware of the slick noises his cock draws from your wet pussy, the slam of the headboard against the wall as he fucks you into the mattress. His back pinches in pain and he knows he'll feel it tomorrow, but you look so cock-drunk, your head lolling and your eyes rolling back, that he can't bring himself to care. 

Your hands claw at his chest, his shoulders, trying to pull him down toward you even though your leg is bent back toward your head. He gives you a moment of reprieve to lean over you, his hand braced next to your head and his mouth slanting over yours. You hum happily, your fingers scratching at the nape of his neck, and he will do anything—anything—to make you feel good. 

In a flash, he twists your leg so you're on your stomach, then hauls you up by your hips so you're on your hands and knees, all without pulling out of you. “Joel!” you squeak. 

“Fuck. This body.” He slides one hand up your spine as he slams into you from behind, gritting his teeth and pummeling your ass with his hips. “This tight… fuckin’… body.”

“Ah, fuck—” Your body jolts forward and Joel grabs the headboard just to steady you, stopping it from slamming against the wall. He slips his hand around your chest and hauls your body up against his, lavishing your throat with his hot mouth. “Joellllll,” you whine. 

“Feel good, baby?” he grunts, grinding his cock deep. You cry out, your hands blindly grasping behind you for a purchase on his hips. 

“So— fuck! —so good. You’re so big.” The breathless praise fills his head with air, ballooning his ego, making him pull you closer. 

“You can take it,” he says into your ear, the rhythm of his thrusts perfectly attuned to the response of your body. He's learned you, mapped you, and you're all for him. 

You gasp his name, your head turning to bite down on his bicep as he fucks you so thoroughly that your brain is liquifying to warm honey. Joel grits his teeth at the twinge of pain, his balls pulling up as his orgasm nears. “That’s it, baby,” he pants, letting your upper half bend back down onto the mattress so he can rub your clit. 

“Oh! Yes, yes, yes.” Your hands flex against the sheets, wrinkling them between your fingers as your cheek presses into the mattress. The rippling of your ass with every slap of his balls against your clit is a delicious sight, and the way your thighs tremble only makes his hips stutter. He’s going to come. He’s…

Your pussy clenches around him, your whole body seizing as you come on his cock, pushing out a weak cry. “Joel, I… oh, fuck.”

“I got you, baby. It’s okay. Let go; that's a good girl.” He removes his fingers from your clit when you begin to buck and cry from the overstimulation, his hand leaving the headboard to grab your hips. Now, he can fuck you hard and fast, your body limp and pliant underneath him. “Just let me… shit, let me… gotta—”

Your gasps are wet and your cheeks are drying from your tears. “Oh, my—” Your mouth drops open at his relentless pummeling. “Oh, shit!”

He feels the telltale splatter of wetness on his balls and his thighs before he registers that you're coming again. Your body shakes without abandon, your eyes squeezing shut and your pussy sucking him deeper, deeper still. It’s loud and smacking and slick in his ears, and he loses his goddamn mind. 

His orgasm pinches every nerve in his back without warning. He groans, fisting your hair, instinctively pushing his hips flush to your ass and drowning your cunt in his hot cum. 

“Goddamn… shit. Jesus.” He covers your body with his, his forehead pressed to the space between your sweat-slick shoulder blades. You can feel his breath puffing out against your skin. 

“Joel,” you moan weakly, your knees close to giving out, your hips aching. 

“Fuck. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” He hauls himself upright and pulls out, his cock pulsing at the sight of his cum dripping out of your used hole. “I came inside you.”

“I can feel it,” comes your muffled giggle, wiggling your ass at him. “I’m on the pill.”

He collapses next to you, tucking you into his side, his nose nudging yours before he slots his mouth over yours. You kiss him happily, sleepily, draping your arm over his broad chest. “Gotta clean you up,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

You put your lips to the corner of his mouth, the patches in his beard, smiling against his cheek. “Shouldn't have manhandled me so good, then.”

Joel chuckles, smacking your ass. “Funny girl. C’mon, get up.”

You huff, taking his hand as he helps you off the bed, catching you around the waist when your knees give out. “Easy,” he laughs. 

“Your fault.” You steady yourself by holding onto his arm as he takes you into his bathroom. “You took me by surprise. Didn't think an old man could fuck like that.”

“Smartass.” Joel gives your ass another slap and closes you both inside. He wets a washcloth and wipes it between your thighs, enjoying the little whimper that leaves your mouth when it drags over your puffy clit. “Almost done, baby.”

He cleans up the cum that has dripped out of your hole and your own wetness, leaning in to kiss you softly when he's finished. You smooth his hair back, smiling fondly at his tousled appearance, the way he looks so relaxed, so calm. “I like you like this.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow, observing the marks you've left on him through the mirror. “Scratched up like a goddamn cat post?”

“Couldn't help it.” You lean into him and press gentle little kisses to the crescents and red marks on his chest and shoulders. “Now those other ladies knocking down your door will know you're not up for grabs.”

“You tell me where those ladies are first, and I’ll give ‘em a piece of my mind,” he chuckles, roaming his hands up and down your arms. “I’ve certainly never seen ‘em before.”

“Well, we women have a secret code,” you tell him. “A girl can tell. You're a hot commodity around here. Big, strong, tall, working man…”

His ego is getting a little overinflated at the ministrations of your sweet voice. He rubs his thumbs over your hip bones and shuts you up with a kiss. “Anyone ever tell you you're trouble?” he mumbles into your mouth. 

“Mmmhmm,” you reply. “But you can handle it.”

Goddamn right I can. 

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #whiskey sour #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo

[sprout-fics]

Sprout-Fic's Call of Duty Masterlist

Snowblind (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader 'Fix')

Summary:

He's robbed the breath from your lungs, fissures extending ever outwards. They carve down into your bones, seep into the cracks of you where the gale of self doubt howls forsaken into the bitter wind. Yet there's warmth in his touch, one that melts away at the crystal heart of you suspended delicately like glass. It twinkles and glints in the darkness, shining outwards into the shadows of you both.

It's him. It's always been him.

Masterlist

Little Mouse (König x F! Reader 'Maus')

Summary: During a routine covert op, you and Gaz are attacked by an unknown assailant, one who takes your unconscious form and carries you away into the night.

"Hello, little Maus."

Masterlist (Here)

Consequences (Brat! Tamer Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Reader) 18+

Summary:

It doesn’t take much to get a rise out of him, but he doesn’t let it show. The mask keeps his face hidden except for his eyes- calculating, cold. You’re the only one who can see the subtle indicators of his annoyance. His finger tapping on his weapon, the shift in his stance as he widens his legs to look bigger, the low, subtle warning bite in his voice that speaks of consequences.

18+ Series, Minors DNI

Masterlist (Here)

Completed

Rotes Madchen (Werewolf Konig x F!Reader)

Completed

Summary:

You thought the woods were safe.

You hear the rumors, of the strange creature lurking in the forest, the thing with dripping red claws and snarling fangs. Mammoth, dangerous, primordial. He could swallow you whole.

Yet the thing you find is not a monster but a man, injured and weak, surrendering to your soothing hands offered in aid. Yet things in the woods are not always as they seem, and soon you begin to uncover the differences between monsters, men, and the creatures that lurk in the waning light of the full moon.

(Masterlist)

Tag, You're It (TF141 x F!Reader) 18+

Summary:

The room goes still, the five of you lounging around the rec room table on base, where a collection of bottles and snacks litters the surface. The quiet solitude of evening hangs subtle between you all, and if you breathe in you can smell the lingering trace of shampoo, all of you scrubbed fresh and clean following your arrival back after a successful mission. Here, gathered together in mutual company, it’s you who lets the words fall out of your mouth to the surprise of the men around you.

“I want you all to chase me down and take turns on me.”

18+ Series, Minors DNI

Masterlist

Call of Duty Omegaverse AU (Poly TF141 x Omega F! Reader) (18+)

Summary:

You've concealed your presence as an omega for your entire military career, careening up the ranks, collecting accolades, and having the privilege to assist the notorious 141 Taskforce. Yet on a mission gone wrong, you find yourself in circumstances entirely out of your control, and the events that follow hurtle you into the path of a pack that finds out they will do anything to make you theirs.

(Masterlist)

Engravings (Makarov x F! Reader)

Darkfic tw

Summary:

Marionette, your callsign. A name he bestowed upon you, the one who holds the strings. You’re his blade, his weapon, the arrow in his bow. You fly in the direction of his enemies, cut them down with lethal precision, feel their heartbeats stutter and still in your hands. You’re used to the scent of blood by now, arrive back to him awash in red and let him kiss it from your lips, the taste of your murder on his tongue.

You know what the others say about you. You see them as they watch you walk with him, two steps back, by his right shoulder. A designated position. If someday he were to be betrayed, shot through his spine, you know the bullet would enter you first.

You know too that you’ve accepted this.

-----

You never had reason to doubt Makarov until you find yourself cornered by a mysterious man who stares at you with wide eyes and whispers a devastating revelation

"What did he do to you?"

(Masterlist)

Oh Muse, Tell me of the Things Done by Golden Aphrodite

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader)

Summary:

A sacrifice, they tell you. One to spare the fate of your city from the god of death's vengeful wrath. They lay you upon the sacrificial altar, where you weep and await your demise. Only to awaken in the palace of a God. (An Eros and Psyche inspired AU)

(Part 1)

Requests:

Sunshine (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader)

Jealous (Ghost x Reader x König)

Jealous (Part 2) (Ghost x Reader x König)

Drunk (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader)

Sick (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader)

Affliction. Affection. (Konig x GN Reader)

That One Motorcycle Bit (Simon Ghost Riley x F! Reader) (18+)

Oneshots:

Sunroom (John Price x F! Reader) (18+)

Afterburn (141/Los Vaqueros x F! Reader) (18+)

Speak Now (Gaz x Reader)

I'll Be Better in the Morning (Soap x Reader)

Goodnight Darling (John Price x GN Reader)

Unravel (Ghost x Reader)

Breaking and Entering (John Price x Wife! Reader) (2)

Adjustment (Dom! Price x GN! Reader) (18+)

Spitfire (Philip Graves x F!Reader) (18+)

Coyote Kiss (Phillip Graves x F!Reader)

Old Guard AU (TF141 & Reader)

Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. Again. (Soap x Reader)

Danger Close (Captain John Soap MacTavish x F! Reader) (18+)

Mind the Drop (Dom Price x F! Sub Reader)

In the Softness (Nikolai x F! Reader) (18+)

Silver Fox (Nikolai x F! Reader) (18+)

Headcanons

NSFW Soap Headcanons (18+)

Valeria Garza Headcanons (18+)

Ghost and Gaz Headcanons

Poly 141 Headcanons (18+)

Soap Hugs

TF141 and Using a Safeword (18+)

TF141 and Dogs

TF141 + Los Vaqueros and Pegging (18+)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Trauma, and Kink (18+) SA TW

Hitman 141 AU

Sex with Simon

Captain MacTavish and Captain Price's wife (18+)

Neighbors Alpha Ghost (18+)

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #my writing #my fics #pls don't judge me for getting into handsome gun dudes you don't gotta tell me i KNOW-

[alitheakorogane]

Freedom's Protection: A Blasphemy or The Truth?

Summary: Venti's outburst shocks everyone, making the people of Mondstadt question everything they knew about their Archon.

This is the third part of Mondstadt's storyline for the Reader Protection Squad SAGAU series.

Note: There are instances of grammatical errors, please bear with me. Also, the entire layout was now changed and I placed a title on them so I could not be confused while I write the next chapters. It's still the same story though.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 (current), 4, 5, 6, 7

"What if your dear Anemo Archon was also like them, an imposter who also steals someone's face?!"

-------------

Everyone couldn't believe what the young bard was saying, especially those who are very devoted to Lord Barbatos. The Anemo Archon is also an imposter?

Bennett and Fischl who accompanied him looked at Venti with surprised looks on their faces, while Razor was confused about what happened. On the other hand, you were shocked at what the bard did, even though you had expected him to do something stupid after Eula's harsh statement regarding imposters.

To be honest, you can understand why the usual happy and mischievous bard suddenly snaps out and break down at everyone. Eula's statement may be intended for you but it also applies to Venti's situation, and her scathing words hit the Anemo Archon on a personal level. You guessed that not everyone knows his real story, not even his very devout followers in his church, as you had remembered that only the Traveler was the one who had truly opened up about his real feelings of loss by telling his story about his bard friend in his story quest.

They didn't know who he really is... because all knowledge that the Mondstadters knew about their beloved Archon is from secondary sources, from the words of other people, and not really from Venti himself.

They never knew how hard is to pretend to be someone he really isn't. You know it wasn't his choice to rule a nation, since Andrius had stepped down from being a suitable candidate but Venti had tried his best to fulfill the wishes of his beloved friend before he had died: for Mondstadt to be free.

Mondstadters from the past to the present saw his Archon persona in rose-colored glasses, portraying him as regal, poised, and hardworking as his people (they were also overworked because they thought they can emulate Lord Barbatos' 'hardworking' work ethic) who value the concept of freedom over his domain, not knowing that their Archon is actually a happy-go-lucky troublemaker who has the heart of gold, who really likes apples and Dandelion Wine to the point of breaking the records for most shots a Mondstadter can drink in one go, or how he likes to annoy people with his songs and pranks when he feels like it.

You had sympathized with him, as you and he are similar in some aspects. You always force a bright smile on your face and feel optimistic, even though there are times that you feel like you wanted to give up on everything. You can crack jokes over your so-called friends, laugh at the corniest punchlines, and put up some masks on other people, saying to them that you're okay even though it really isn't.

There is a reason why you loved playing Genshin Impact, it's not because of the waifus or husbandos or you just want to have fun and spend over nothing, but it was an escape from your loneliness and the reality. You feel loved when the game greeted you on your birthday before anyone can and was given you a digital cake even though you know it was coded to be like that. You feel happy when your favorite character had come home and when you listened to their voice lines where they said something good about you.

You think that someone took pity on you and whisk you away to the beautiful continent of Teyvat, but it seems that there's a mistake. The moment you were spat at by the same characters you really loved, you feel like you were really unloved by anyone no matter what world you've been thrown in. You're not suicidal, but at that moment, the urge to throw yourself off the cliff and unto the waters of Cider Lake to drown was very strong.

So when you met Bennett, Razor, and Fischl for the first time and they had befriended you no matter what others say something bad about you, you feel happy that someone had accepted you the way you are, and you wanna cry with tears of joy.

And when Venti, the actual Anemo Archon of Mondstadt, came to your rescue, you feel like you were lucky that someone out there still appreciated your existence. You silently thank whoever is above that gives you some mercy over this forsaken world.

Meanwhile, Barbara Pegg, the lovely Deaconess of the Church of Favonius, couldn't help but ponder over what the bard had said. You had noticed how she was not as defensive as the other nuns present, but you just brushed it off as she was just in shock. You were unfortunately wrong about your assumptions, for you underestimated her just because you know from her game appearances that she was oblivious to her Archon being literally meters away from her.

She may be a devout follower of the Anemo Archon, but as a Gunnhildr, she had access to a certain diary of one of their ancestors living at the time of Decarabian, along with her older sister Jean.

She remembered a passage regarding a wind elf and his human friend who died in the rebellion, after her mother, Frederica, had let her read the family heirloom after Barbara joined the church as a Deaconess.

"The young leader had unfortunately passed away by a stray arrow to the heart, the winds took away his young life so early. We were devastated to see the one who had awakened our hearts and fought for freedom die in the rebellion against Lord Decarabian, but no one grieves more than the Elf, who was with him till the end. The Elf has done the unthinkable after they had ascended into a god by Celestia: they had taken the form of his human friend so he could see the free world under the eyes of the Elf, who was now under the name of Barbatos, the new Anemo Archon of Mondstadt."

Imagine Barbara's surprise when she found out about that, she had never read this information in any Mondstadt history books or tomes she had come across. She knew that her ancestor had been part of the first Mondstadt rebellion against Lord Decarabian, so she could assume that it was a legitimate source.

At the time, she can't believe that Lord Barbatos' current form seen in the statues isn't his, to begin with, for it was based on his human friend who had died in the first rebellion. Today, she had doubts about the issue, especially when the bard had brought it up.

"If that's the case, then it's true that Lord Barbatos is technically an imposter, just like how Mr. Bard had said," she thought to herself, "But how he known about that if that information isn't in the books I have ever read about our Archon? Did I miss a book?"

She looked at her older sister who was still standing with Diluc with a troubled look in her eyes like she was pondering about something. She ever wondered if Jean still remembered the contents of the diary or knew something about Venti. As far as she was concerned, Venti knew the Honorary Knight, Jean, and DIluc personally due to their involvement during the Stormterror crisis.

She knew that Venti can summon Dvalin, one of the Four Winds, when they went to the Golden Apple Archipelago months ago. He is also the only one she can't heal with her Hydro Vision, the first time since she had been blessed by the gods. He had an angelic voice and an exceptional talent for playing the lyre, which to be honest, Barbara was slightly jealous of. And he just recently appeared on Mondstadt, which was coincidentally the time when Dvalin, known as Stormterror that time, had attacked Mondstadt.

Who really is Venti anyway?

"Blasphemy!" One of the nuns screamed as her fellow comrades and citizens agreed with her, "Lord Barbatos isn't an imposter, you blasphemous child. How dare you speak to the Archon that way?!"

"History books had never told the Anemo Archon's whole story!" Venti continued as he lowered his bow down, his right arm wiping the stray tears on his cheeks. You wanted to comfort him, to hug him in your arms, but the situation was so tense that you prefer not to, for now.

"You just knew him because of those books and those spoken stories that always praise him! And in every single one of them, he was portrayed as a divinity who committed no mistakes and made some exceptional deeds just because he is an Archon. You may think that he is perfect, but news flash people, he's not! He's as flawed as any other mortal out there! He should have saved his dear friend if he was as perfect and powerful as you think he was!"

He was glaring at the people in front of him, his aqua-green eyes glowing in intensity, "You had never known that he was originally a wind wisp who had taken the form of a dead friend to honor a wish. He had never saved his dear friend... if only that blasted wind wisp was a second too early, his friend wouldn't have died in the rebellion! That friend of his was the one who started the peak of the rebellion, who had sang songs of freedom, and guess what, no one remembers his name or even his sacrificial deeds!"

Venti closed his eyes as he continued speaking, a look of nostalgia etched in his eyes as he stared at the skies above, "Freedom was given to all of you due to a sacrifice of a human who was now forgotten by history, but his face... his young face now lived on under the facade of Lord Barbatos. Without the bard's final wish, Lord Barbatos would never make freedom his ideal for Mondstadt..."

"...He would never have been the weakest among the Seven Archons if he had never fulfilled his dear friend's dying wish."

"And how would you know about that? Why would you try to defame Anemo Archon Barsibato just to manipulate our minds about the imposter?!" Rosaria harshly interrogated Venti who just spewed some blasphemous information about their Archon, her polearm pointed at the bard.

The nuns of the Church of Favonius had deadpan looks on their faces over Rosaria's mistake over Lord Barbatos' name, while the citizens who believed in the Archon glared at Venti for his statement.

To their surprise, the young Anemo user smiled at them, but they could guess that he was actually smirking. He chuckled as he bowed his head, bangs covering his beautiful eyes. It left people confused and scared, especially the Knights and the Church nuns. They had never seen this side of the bard who they have just known to be as mischievous and happy-go-lucky all the time.

You felt chills when you see his smirk, as you had an image of a young-looking boy with angelic wings who looked at the people with a menacing smile, the bow on his hands was stained in blood. You then realized that you had seen a glimpse of Venti in his Archon form, and it was possible that it was him in the Khaenri'ah disaster 500 years ago!

His Elegy of the End bow was still on his hand as he dared to respond with a playful tone at the young nun, staring at her with a coldness that could rival someone with a Cryo Vision, as if he was scolding a young misbehaving child, "You could say that I am more than just a mere drunkard bard, Miss Rosaria."

"After all, how could I ever spread blasphemous words about myself?"

--------------

BADASS VENTI IS LIFE.

Well, this is Part 3 of the Reader Protection Squad series of one-shots, where someone is trying to protect the Reader from being pelted down by the Divine Creator's obsessive acolytes.

This one was also cut into two parts, so there is a possible Part 4 regarding Venti helping you off. (sigh) I think I will do a full-blown fanfic if I kept this up. I also write the Reader's inner thoughts, based on my experience. I couldn't help but shed a tear when I wrote this part.

To those who are new to my story, in this series, Venti is part of your protection squad in this Imposter AU concept, one of the two Archons who are going to help you. He is usually the mischaracterized character in SAGAU fics, and I wanted to do justice to my boi's character.

I made Barbara more perceptive than she was on canon, because why not? I made her a book enthusiast, she likes to read books in her free time just like her older sister (if she is not busy with her idol work, practice, healing, and church duties). Her possible favorite books are about Lord Barbatos and his deeds to Mondstadt.

And here's Rosaria and her mishaps with Venti's Archon name...🤣

-----

Taglist: @eimuros, @vvyeislazzy, @ansyistiredsstuff, @haru-tofuu, @coquettemaiden, @voidlesslove, @depressed-bitchy-demon, @yuukaaariyuuu, @g3n0dtt, @misswitchthewindborn, @lumpywolf, @c00kie-cat, @mulandi, @genshin-impacts-me, @bloop-booop

#what if venti helped you in sagau!imposter au #justice to venti my boi #imposter buddies unite #reader protection squad #sagau #sagau impostor au #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin self aware #genshin impact self aware #self aware au #self aware genshin #imposter au #genshin venti #venti the bard #venti #genshin au #genshin impact AU #anemo god #anemo archon #imposter sagau

[munsonhoneybaby]

i’d love to see a drabble or a blurb with eddie and the fishnets👀

yet again this one got away from me lol so it's a little long for a drabble but i hope you enjoy !!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering

A/N: takes place in the too much in common realm but isn't a part of the main series !! song is witchy woman by the eagles <3

In a town like Hawkins, there weren’t many occasions that fishnets were suitable for. So, by the time you did eventually wear them again, you had pretty much forgotten about the ‘promise’ you’d made Eddie. He hadn’t, of course.

“Are you sure we have to go, baby?” His fingers clawed at your hips through the thin black dress you wore. “C’mon, let’s just stay in tonight.”

“I didn’t just spend two hours getting ready to ‘stay in’. Plus, I’m excited. I like getting out of town and doing things every now and then, and Steve said this place is supposed to be really cool.” You eyed him in the mirror as you swiped on some lip gloss. The red of his button-up was so deep it was almost black, tucked into his black jeans with the top three buttons undone. Silver chains hung from his belt loops, matching his rings and the barbell in his tongue that had just recently finished healing. Another silver chain sat around his wrist which was soon joined by a hair tie, his boots thudding heavily– even on the carpet– when he grabbed it from your nightstand.

“I don’t know how much of a club person I’m gonna be,” He warned you. “I don’t really dance.”

“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean you can’t,” You pointed out. “And you don’t really have to dance, I’m not expecting you to waltz. You just have to grind on me, and that I know you can do.”

He gave a conceding sigh. “Fine, I guess if it’s an excuse to dry hump you in public we can go.”

“Ever the romantic, Munson.”

The others were already ordering the first round when you got there, the bartender passing out shots until you reached the bar and Steve pushed two more toward you. “Took you guys long enough!” He called over the music.

“Can’t rush perfection, Harrington.” Grabbing the small glass, you passed the other one to Eddie. Knocking it back, you determined it was vodka and not tequila with a grateful nod to Robin. “Are we getting a table?”

“You two grab one, I wanna get another round!” Robin shouted back with enthusiasm.

Flashing her a thumbs up, you grabbed a hold of Eddie’s hand and ushered him toward a big, dimly lit corner booth. “There’s a lot ‘a people here,” He observed as you set your purse on the table.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Drawing him in with your arms around his neck, you hummed, “Just you ‘n me, as far as I’m concerned.”

He palmed at your ass through the silky black satin of your dress as he countered, “The things I’d do to you if it were just you ‘n me would get us arrested if I did them here, babe.”

“Alright, you guys can play grab-ass in a minute, we’re doing more shots!” Steve called as the three of them approached the table, all of them carrying at least one.

“No more for me, I’ve gotta take her home after all this.” Leaning over your shoulder, he prepared to push it back across the table to Steve but was stopped by your hand over his.

“Uh, excuse you. I can drink for two, thank you.” Holding his hands up in surrender, he raised his eyebrows, making a smile crack through your falsely offended expression. He didn’t blink as he watched you swallow down one shot after the other. A clear droplet escaped your mouth, rolling down your neck to disappear between the valley of your breasts and into your dress. He could so vividly imagine how it would taste to follow the intoxicating trail with his tongue.

His gaze was ripped from your chest by the snap of Steve’s fingers, who was giving him a knowing, playfully chastising look. “Could you keep it in your pants a little while longer, Munson?”

You were too engrossed in a conversation with Nancy to pay them any mind as he responded. “Shh, you’re gonna get me in trouble. And I’ll have you know, I have the patience of a saint,” He added unconvincingly.

That finally got your attention, making you let out a little snort. “Oh-kay, babe, if you say so.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just c’mon, I’m ready to dance!”

“You mean you’ve drank enough to now?” He scoffed as you dragged him away from the table.

“Yep!” The music vibrated through the floors as you led him through the half-crowded dance floor. You weaved through the various friends, couples, and parties until you found a comfortable gap. Your boyfriend just chuckled and shook his head.

Turning to face him, you let your arms settle loosely around his neck once again as you moved to the music. His hands squeezed at your waist before moving lower to knead at the small of your back. The two of you eyed each other lovingly, with you brushing a few unruly strands of hair back from his face as he admired the hazy halo the lights cast around you. Before you could think of something to say to excuse your silent drooling, the sound of the next song beginning distracted you. The soft, deep thrum of guitars and bass had the faintest excited gasp escaping your lips. “I love this song!”

raven hair and ruby lips

sparks fly from her fingertips

echoed voices in the night

she’s a restless spirit on an endless flight

His hands held you steady as you bowed back ever so slightly, head tilting as you swayed in his arms. You slowly began to wind your hips in time with the music, silently mumbling the chorus. Eddie smiled softly, humming along as he watched your eyes fall closed.

woo-hoo, witchy woman

see how high she flies

woo-hoo, witchy woman

she got the moon in her eye

He caught you by surprise when he took both of your hands, spinning you and bringing his arms over your head to cross around your waist. You giggled and squealed quietly, tilting your head to look over your shoulder at him as your back pressed to his chest. “See, Munson, you’ve got moves!”

“As long as I still don’t have t’a dust off my waltz, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” He promised.

 

she held me spellbound in the night

dancin’ shadows and firelight

crazy laughter in another room

and she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon

You could already feel him half-hard against you as you wound your hips more intently. Eddie’s fingers dragged up your fishnet-covered thighs, lifting the skirt of your dress dangerously high before moving to grab at your waist again. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy, baby. Know I love you so much, right?”

Head falling back against his chest, you gazed up at him with glossy eyes and a tipsy grin. “I love you too, Eds. Love you so much.” His hands wandered, rubbing over your sides and your stomach as his hips ground into you. Your own hand reached back to wind into his hair, curls growing frizzier in the warmth of the club. Goosebumps began to raise on your skin when he mouthed sloppily at your neck, teeth grazing a sensitive spot before lifting to tug at your earlobe. With the way the blood was rushing in his veins and his head was starting to swim, he may as well have been as drunk as you. The sweet smell of your perfume and the taste of your skin was still enough to make the room spin.

woo-hoo, witchy woman

see how high she flies

woo-hoo, witchy woman

she got the moon in her eye

Far be it from him to complain when you grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him in the direction of the bathroom before the song could even reach its instrumental break. You had never been so grateful for a single-person restroom in your life. Eddie hissed and laughed when you let the door slam shut, fingers clawing at the buttons of his shirt as he reached around you to lock it.

You only managed to get two of the buttons undone before his hand covered yours, pressing it against his chest to stop you as he chuckled softly. “Baby, baby– not here.”

Huffing, you pouted up at him. “Then why’d you let me bring you in here?”

“Well, it wasn’t to strip naked in a public bathroom,” He confirmed. Urging you backward, he didn’t stop until your lower back met the sink counter. “I do seem to remember a promise a certain someone made me a couple months ago, though.”

“Eddie,” You whine. Clutching at his shirt, you tried to draw his body to yours completely as he stood between your legs. “I don’t remember, just touch me. I’ll do whatever you want me to later, but–”

“Oh, I’m gonna need that in writing, babe. Right now, though, you just have to lean back and spread your legs f’me. Okay, sweet girl?”

Nodding, you were already sighing in relief when his hands guided your thighs back toward your chest. He peeled your panties to the side from underneath your fishnets, and it wasn’t until you felt his tongue drag through the wetness he found there that you finally remembered the oh-so-important promise you’d made. 

well, i know you want a lover; let me tell you, brother

she’s been sleepin’ in the devil’s bed

and there’s some rumors going ‘round, someone’s underground

she can rock you in the nighttime ‘til your skin turns red

You were already a mess, your dress bunched around your waist and straps falling off your shoulders. Your disheveled hair wouldn’t be so easy to fix, but it was clear to see you had little concern for what your fellow patrons would think. No, you were too focused on the feeling of Eddie sliding two fingers into you as his tongue ring massaged your clit.

If he were a responsible boyfriend, he would remind you to quiet down, but he just couldn’t help himself. He loved when you got drunk– loved when he could see the tension in your shoulders melt away and you got warm, and giggly, and loud– loved when you’d moan and gasp his name without even realizing you were doing it because the first and only thing you were thinking about was how good he made you feel. 

So, when you cried out that you were gonna come, he didn’t stop. He didn’t hush you, or cover your mouth with his hand. He just crooked his fingers to the spot he knew always made your insides melt and hummed encouragingly against the wet warmth of your cunt, mesmerized by the sight of you writhing on the counter before him.

Hips still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you pulled him to you for a sloppy kiss that had him panting like a dog in heat. The doe-eyed look you gave him when you finally spoke was almost enough to make him drop to his knees for you a second time. “Take me home, Eds.”

woo-hoo, witchy woman

see how high she flies

woo-hoo, witchy woman

she got the moon in her eye

<3

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#too much in common #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x f!reader smut #18+ mdni #asks

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 14

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, minor mention of injury, smut, comfort. Welp. Here we are! we finally did it! A 14 chapter story never should have taken me seven months to write, but tackling it while also tackling so much extra shit at work delayed it. Thank you SO much to all of you patient angel babies who stuck along and I hope you've enjoyed it. As I said on another post, I will be starting to write 2 new series shortly, but will not be posting them until they are at least halfway done. In the meantime, expect more frequent one shots! (here's hoping lol).

Cutting through the ER wasn’t something you’d normally do, but it was a shortcut on the way back from the cafeteria, your usual route overcrowded with patient overflow. It was by chance that you were there, or as some might have called it, fate.

Because that was when you saw her, elbows on her knees while her eyes were on her phone, texting away while she waited.

“Emily?” Your brow furrowed as you stalled in your tracks and the other woman looked up from her phone, her eyes widening when she saw you. “What’re you doing here?” You asked while you approached, greeting her with a hug when she stood, “wait are you hurt?” You suddenly pulled back with a worried expression on your face and she laughed softly.

“No, one of my team. Nothing bad, just a dislocated shoulder.”

“What brings the BAU all the way to London?”

“Oh,” she caught herself laughing awkwardly again, an unsure fluttering had started in her stomach, slowly working its way into her chest, “I’m not with them anymore. I got a job offer to run my own team with Interpol.”

She smiled softly at you and you felt your entire body relax, “so… you live here now?”

“Yeah…” she stuttered, biting on her lip, “I was gonna call, I swear! I just wanted to wait til things settled down. I mean, my apartment’s still all in boxes, my office is a disaster and to be completely honest… I can’t even remember the last name of the person I’m here with.”

You barked a laugh at that, your hand swatting at her arm and Emily practically melted at the sparkle in your eye, heat lingering where you’d touched her.

“Sounds like you need to chill and it just so happens that I’ve become very skilled at unboxing and figuring out how to decorate. If you’d like a hand?”

Emily glanced briefly down to her phone when it buzzed, then looked back up to your smiling face and knew there was no way that she wanted to say no to the offer. She hadn’t even originally been the one to escort her agent to the hospital, she was supposed to continue overseeing the training exercise but she’d figured it would look good as a new leader to make sure an injury was properly taken care of. It was complete luck she had been sitting in the emergency room of your hospital.

“Honestly that sounds amazing, I could really use the help.”

“Perfect.” You grinned, “text me your address and a time. I’ll bring dinner?”

“I’ve got the perfect wine to go along with it.”

*

Take out containers lay on the coffee table, now mainly empty, only a few bites left in each with half full wine glasses beside them. The kitchen was organized, the television finally hooked up, now softly playing music from one of Emily’s favourite stations, you’d just finished assembling a book shelf, now filling its shelves with books and nick naks, fawning over the amount of awards Emily had to show off. Out of sheer habit you were focused on alphabetizing a row of books, swapping a few of them around while she dug through one of the boxes, pulling out a framed photo of Garcia and Sergio to place on the shelf as a final touch right as you slid the last book into place.

“That about does it.” You said, turning to look around the apartment before your eyes landed on Emily, “unless you’re still sleeping on the couch.”

“No.” She laughed, feeling her cheeks heat, “bedroom’s good. I’m either sleeping or at work, it was just everything else that slipped through the cracks.”

“Like picking up the phone?” You asked with a smirk and she scoffed.

“Hey, c’mon I said I was gonna—”

“It’s okay.” You laughed, “c’mere.”

“What?” She asked, stepping toward you as she wiped at her face, concerned there was a speck of sauce somewhere she couldn’t feel.

“There’s just something I wanted to do since I saw you this afternoon.”

“Huh?” Emily felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest, feeling the spark shoot through her body when you grabbed her hand and pulled her to you.

A second later that hand was cupping her cheek and her lips were met with yours, gracefully moving against each other in a not so forgotten dance, rather one that you both had been aching for. One that you hadn’t even realized you missed as much as you did until you saw each other again. Her arms easily wound around you, the tension leaving her body as she melted into the embrace, sighing into the kiss when she felt you completely relax too. Her tongue slid across your lower lip and it only took a second for you to part your lips to grant her access, the corners of your lips curving up into a happy grin. It was different than any other kiss the two of you had shared, it was one of true emotion, tender, intimate, where both of you felt completely at peace and totally safe.

Oxygen was the only reason to be seen to break the kiss, foreheads resting against each other while you caught your breath, little laughs leaving your lips to battle the potential awkwardness of the situation. Your thumb stroked the side of her neck while her hands tickled at your sides,

“I missed you.” You were the first to admit it through a whisper and Emily smiled, stealing a tender kiss.

“Believe me, I missed you more.” Her hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, tracing patterns into your skin, “and I’ll prove it.”

Your giggle was quickly silenced by another kiss, Emily’s hands nudging you toward the bedroom while your hands began to tangle into her hair. By the time the backs of your knees hit her bed she had your shirt tugged over your head, tossing it to the floor behind her so she could rid you of your bra. Your fingers ghosted under the hem of her shirt, trailing up and across her skin, though they froze when her breath caught in her throat.

“Sorry.” You murmured against her lips and she shook her head slightly.

“It’s okay.”

You glanced up at her and she gave you a soft nod, trust and vulnerability filling her eyes as her hands went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head before pulling you back into a kiss. While her tongue slipped into your mouth again you were able to undo her bra, letting it fall to the ground as you both began the work of getting completely naked. At the last minute you managed to spin her around, letting her topple onto the mattress with a gentle laugh as you crawled over top of her.

“God you’re beautiful.” You murmured, eyes sweeping up her body and she felt her cheeks tinge pink.

When your lips met once again your hands ghosted up her sides, finger tips tracing patterns on her skin before gently groping at her chest. She let out a soft moan into the kiss, hands grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to her, shifting you slightly so you were straddling her thigh.

Emily broke the kiss with a gasp when you pinched at her nipples, her head thrown back into the pillows, giving you the ample opportunity to kiss down the column of her neck, teeth nipping into her sensitive skin. A hand sunk between your bodies and she instinctively spread her legs to give you easier access. Her hips rocked up off the bed when your fingertips slipped through her folds, rubbing gently at her clit while your mouth made a home in the crook of her neck.

“Fuck…” she groaned when two fingers slipped into her pussy, pumping steadily. Her hands gripped onto your hips, urging you to grind down onto her body, riding her thigh and she felt you moan into her neck.

Your fingers began to pump faster, curling to find that sensitive spot and Emily was sure to keep her hands on your hips, guiding you in the same rhythm, a moan leaving her throat at the feeling of your wetness spreading across her thigh. She flexed the muscle, pulling a gasp from you as your clit dragged right across it and your teeth sunk into her skin.

“Oh god…”

“Don’t stop.” She murmured, nipping at your earlobe before nudging at your chin, urging your lips back to hers for another kiss, eager to taste you again.

The kiss was breathless, airy moans leaving one set of lips only to be swallowed by the other, gasps breaking free as pleasure soared through both of your bodies. Your skin slick with sweat as you moved together, working higher and higher, Emily’s pussy pulsing around your fingers while your juices coated her skin. It had been too long, you’d both been unknowingly waiting for this moment for what felt like forever and you were both hitting your peaks before you even expected, cries of pleasure bouncing off the bedroom walls as your bodies shook against each other.

Panting, you slipped off Emily’s leg, rolling onto your back as your arm snuck around her, pulling her to you and she eagerly curled into your side, resting her head on your chest. You let out a soft sigh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and she returned one to your collarbone, her fingers drawing circles on your skin before lacing together with yours. Your free hand trailed up her side, slowing when it hit the fading white marks, tracing them with a featherlight touch. Emily surprised herself when she didn’t flinch, rather relaxed deeper into your embrace, feeling the warmth from your touch rushing through her and it was the first time she hadn’t felt pain radiating from that same spot. She squeezed at your other hand and you hummed softly, leaving another kiss on the side of her head. You shivered lightly as your body temperature began to drop, reaching out and pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” Emily murmured, her lips brushing against your skin when she spoke.

“It doesn’t have to be.” You replied, your hand settling in her hair for a moment before she shifted onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow.

“I want it to be more than what we had in Paris.” She chewed on her lip, glancing down for a moment as she felt the heat creep into her cheeks again, “I’ll admit, I wanted to take the Interpol job before I knew where it was, being in London, that was just a very happy accident. But I think deep down I knew that I had to come here, DC wasn’t where I was meant to be. Nothing felt right, I didn’t understand anything again. I felt lost in a place that had felt like home for years. Then I realized the only thing familiar, the only thing that was constant when I was at my darkest, the thing that got me through each day… was you.”

“Oh Em…” you reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “you worked pretty damn hard yourself too.” Your hand trailed down her cheek, thumb soothing across her skin, turning her frown into a small smile.

“I don’t want to do it alone anymore.”

You grinned across at her, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her lips, “well then it’s pretty lucky that you don’t have to. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Emily’s lips burst into a smile, a huff of an excited laugh escaping as she pulled you to her for another kiss, this one that you both laughed into as you fell back into the pillows. The road to find each other certainly hadn’t been the most conventional, nor was it the easiest, but you’d found your place and all that mattered now was that you had each other.

__________________

@momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @lesbodietcoke @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #solace in solitude #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic

[phoebepheebsphibs]

HERE WE GO.

Angst time, baby.

@tmntaucompetition @boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau

CW: Injury, blood

Prev || Next || Illustration

April's eyes widened when she saw it all happen. The glowing golden chains that ignited, the room turning into a tornado, the ground cracking and breaking as if an earthquake would devour them, the crevices and miniature canyons that formed - also glowing gold - erupting and spewing what she could only assume was something like mystic magma. It was as if every natural disaster was happening at once.

"Is he trying to kill us?!" April shouted. She'd meant it as a figure of speech, an exaggeration. She didn't yet realize how right she really was.

"Get to the other side!" Karai yelled over the roaring wind. "We'll try to surround him!"

The two girls started circling the tiny warrior, who kept his hands held out as long golden cracks started to form from his fingertips, slowly but surely. Flakes of light peeled off of him and danced away. He felt nothing. He said nothing. His stone cold expression was chiseled into his face like the statues from his namesake. The chains circled around him, rings of fire that lashed out at whoever came near. The hand had long since been dropped, and it scuttled away into the dark room Mikey had broken into before.

Karai lunged at him, shouting a war cry. Mikey's head snapped towards her. A series of chains shot at her, coming in so fast they would pierce her flesh straight through if they got a direct hit. But Karai never let that happen. Instantly, her hands burst into green flames, the shapes of swords that covered her fists and forearms down to the elbow. She slashed, shattering the first chain into pieces. She swung again, twirling for momentum and thrashing relentlessly, turning each chain into shards, destroying every link. Mikey's eye twitched, he growled at her. He thrust both hands towards her, she danced and dipped and dodged every advance. Mikey waved his hand and an army of chains came towards her as the ground underneath her broke into two pieces, causing her to lose her balance. One chain was too fast for her and it struck her in the arm, cutting her sleeve and slicing her tricep. Blood spurted, and she cried out in pain. The other chains made their advance, wrapping around her legs and stomach and neck, pulling tight and suspending her in midair as she began to choke. She clawed at the chains, straining to pull them away and let air back into her throat.

"Michelangelo... Mikey... this isn't you!"

Mikey closed his fist.

The chains drew tight, cutting off her airways completely so that she couldn't even speak. She gasped and coughed, fighting for her life as the burning mystic energy sizzled against her skin.

Mikey grinned maliciously. He couldn't see who he was choking the life out of. But honestly... he really didn't care at this juncture.

"APRIIIIIIILLLL O'NEIIIIIIILLLLLL!!!!"

Mikey didn't even have time to turn around and see the banshee screaming girl who teleported on top of him. With his mystic chains focused on Karai, he'd left himself all but defenseless. April wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him in a choke-hold and hoping to get him to pass out.

"Snap! Out! Of! It! Don't make me kick your mystic butt!"

Mikey screamed with fury and threw his elbows back. One hit her in the stomach, the other smashing her in the face, breaking her glasses and colliding into her nose with an audible CRACK!

April went flying. She hadn't taken into account the differences between her Mikey and this Mikey. Her Mikey was 70lbs soaking wet with almost no muscle mass and not at all the kind to pull a move like that, whereas this one was INCREDIBLY STRONG and TWO YEARS OLDER with MUCH MORE FIGHTING EXPERIENCE.

Karai had managed to get herself free during this time, and as soon as April was incapacitated, she lunged again. Mikey saw her coming, and reached out a hand. His chains wrapped around his gram-gram and bound her arms to her sides.

"Mikey! Stop this! It's not real, none of this is real!! You're stronger than this!"

Mikey's expression slowly fell. His eyes were lost, glazed over in gold and amber. His barred teeth, his snarl softened and calmed. He no longer looked angry. He looked... devoid of all feeling.

"I know I am," he responded, his eyes slowly turning from gold to that horrible shade of sickening electric blue. "Let me show you how much stronger THAN YOU I am."

Mikey's chains changed colour. The cracks in his hands - which had now reached his elbows - changed too. The deep glow and burning from the ground followed suit. The magic sparkles in the air. The whole world seemed to follow the cue, and everything went blue.

Karai was brought close to her "grandson", who gently raised his hand, opened his palm, and blew. Instead of the flakes that came from his disintegrating hands, there came the spores.

Karai, not realizing what this Mikey was now capable of until it was too late, didn't get a chance to hold her breath.

Mikey flung her into the wall, Karai's head smacking into the drywall. Stars floated overhead as her vision was filled with black spots. Once the ringing in her ears quieted, she slowly got back up.

She was not in the same place she had been before.

Karai knew these green skies, the tentacle plants that sprouted all around, the debris and the enormous glowing orb chained to the spot in front of her. But the lock was broken, her sword in her hand, and her father slowly creeping towards her.

Each footstep made a horrid clank, klink, clunking sound as a mechanical laugh echoed throughout the Twilight Realm.

"No... No... this isn't real. I know this isn't real. I shan't be afraid of a bad dream..."

"Is that what you think of me, my daughter?"

That voice... it wasn't the Shredder's. It was Oroku Saki. It was her beloved father. His voice was broken, choked up as he tried to escape from the steel that kept him prisoner.

"F...Father?"

"Please, my dear," he begged, forcing his hand through the chestplate, desperately attempting to free himself. "Please... do not give up on me! I know I've made mistakes, but I am still in here! It is not me that does these things, but the armor! I'm trapped! A prisoner!"

"F-Father... I'm coming, Father, I--" Karai froze. "No... no, it... it isn't real. You're not him."

"Why do you condemn me to eternal torment? Why do you leave me in this godforsaken place, why do you personally deliver my execution? I love you, I did all this for you! Please, do not leave me here to suffer... I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused you, I know I have done so much to hurt you... I... perhaps I do deserve to stay here. But not by your hand, you don't deserve to be stuck in this hellscape with me. Flee, now, while you can!"

"Stop," Karai begged, tears streaming down her face. "Stop using his voice. Stop showing his face. I did what I had to, he was going to--"

"I was going to kill your family," Oroku finished. "I remember that... I remember setting the villages ablaze. I remember tearing their houses down... and... I remember your face," he wept, reaching to her as he finally stepped out of the armor, "I remember the look you gave me when you saw what I had become. Worse than the Foot Clan, worse than the marauders that drove me to this, worse than the oni that I made the deal with... worse than all of it. I truly am a monster, the look you gave me let me see it all... it was nothing like how you used to look at me..."

"Stop it, please," she begged, falling to her knees, her strength slowly giving out. She wished she could fight this, as she had told April to fight before... why was it so hard now?

"I remember how you used to smile when I entered a room. How you laughed and giggled when I would pick you up and spin you around. How you only ever cried at night, when you were awoken from a nightmare, but I was always there to comfort you. Now... I'm the nightmare, aren't I? Have I... have I lost you, my dear one?" he asked, his eyes blurring over with saltwater as he finally reached her, kneeling down beside her and wiping away her own tears.

"Īe, otōsan, anata wa watashi o ushinatta wakede wa arimasen. No, father, you have not lost me." She looked up at him, reaching for him, for his embrace. "I still love you. I still miss you. I will never stop fighting for you..."

He smiled so brightly, opened his arms to hold her close again.

The armor reacted, its claws extending and reaching forwards to grab him, screaming and begging for his daughter to save him as he was pulled back into his demonic prison, forced back into the armor.

"NO!" Karai screamed, jumping up. She just got him back, she couldn't lose him again!!

Karai leapt forwards, summoning daggers of green fire and throwing them all at the metal monster.

"Release him!"

"You'll have to destroy me," the Shredder growled low. "That is what the fates have cast for us, daughter. Either you will die by my hands, or you must kill your father. I shall not give him up."

"Neither shall I!" she screamed, jumping into the air to fight the Shredder, her father weeping inside as he begged her to save him or else save herself.

The Shredder pounded his fists against the cracking ground, the portion he was on getting lifted into the air as the rest broke away, sonic waves like giant ripples throwing Karai off balance and pushing her back again. She couldn't get close to him... she couldn't save him...

She looked back up in desperation, hoping she could find some way to defeat him. The Shredder held his hands out, summoning chains of mystic blue and fire and... wait a minute...

This wasn't her father in the armor anymore.

It was Mikey.

The Dark Armor slowly faded into golden dust, revealing a new bearer of the mystic armor as she watched the alternate version of her great(x14) grandson become the thing she'd sworn to stop at all costs. His chest coated in metal, his head covered by the wicked headpiece, his hands wrapped in long gauntlets with claws, silhouetted by an amber cape that billowed and whipped in the whirlwind around them. The cracks had made their way up to his shoulders now, his hands completely engulfed in the glow as he continued to destroy himself. He was a dark mystic warrior... the next Shredder.

Whether by luck or the work of the spores to further ignite her fear and devastation, Karai happened to glance behind him. Into the room he'd broken into, where Leo was meant to be kept. And she saw him, the blue ninja, sitting slumped on the floor, eyes open but unfocused, glowing a vibrant blue. Against the blue glow, she saw dark vines and roots wrapped around him, circling his neck and chest and arms, keeping him in place. What was holding him? She couldn't tell from this distance, from the darkness of the room contrasted by the furious flames in this hall now. But the door was open, and the room was solid and hidden and it kept prisoner all who entered.

Karai knew what she had to do. And she hated that this was the only solution, the same one she'd come to many generations ago...

"April!!" she shouted loudly.

...

April slowly came to. Her head ached, there was a long bloody streak pouring from her nostrils. She gradually forced herself up, her arms shaking and straining. Her head felt like it weighed a hundred thousand pounds...

She vaguely registered someone calling her name. But there was so much wind and wildfire and crackling of lightning...

"APRIL!"

That got her attention. She snapped her neck so quickly that it audibly cracked, the muscles shooting pain up and down her nape. Karai was yelling at her, trying to explain something.

"April! Go find the others!"

"What?!"

"Go get the others! The other Raphael and Donatello, and go find our family! Get the others, it's up to you! I have to stop this!"

"But how? What are you going to do?!"

"There's no time!! GO! HURRY!!"

Karai ran back a few feet and knelt down, preparing to leap one more time. Underneath the soles of her feet, green ninpo activated - fire like from a jet engine exploded, causing her to take flight and shoot towards Michelangelo.

"KARAI!!!" April screamed, realizing too late what her plan was. "NO!!"

He didn't even have time to summon a chain.

She crashed into his chest, knocking the wind right out of him. Karai immediately wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight, even twisting the back of his sash around her wrist - so that they were tied together, no chance for escape.

Karai blasted off with the young adolescent, flying the two of them into the room with Leo. April watched as the chains followed their master, getting sucked in with him and the last Hamato martyr, all the devastation ceasing in the process. At the last second, April managed to catch sight of Leo, who "watched" it all with sad and sleepy eyes, held in place by a... what was that...?

April was closer to the door than Karai had been, she could see it much clearer than her.

And inside... she saw Leo, held down by the clutches of a terrifyingly large mushroom. It was three - no, FIVE times his size, with a giant glowing eyeball in the center that stared at her menacingly.

Karai and Mikey disappeared into the abyss, the door promptly slamming shut and locking behind them, claiming two more prisoners.

And April was left alone.

KKkkkrrrsssshhh-- "Clean up in hall 221B, Bakers district, please."

April stared at the devastation left behind by the other Mikey. She shakily got to her feet, blood and sweat and tears dripping from her face as she sluggishly came to the realization that it had been a trap right from the start. Finding the hand so easily, getting into the hive mind, her vision leading them to Leo and straight into this ambush.

And now... the hand and the mushrooms had Karai and the alt. Mikey. She... she didn't know what to do now.

She had to find the others, and fast.

#uh oh #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tutant meenage neetle teetles #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt karai #rottmnt april #rottmnt shredder #no fun in fungus #fear fungus #fear spores #until i found you #until i found you au #rottmnt until i found you #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #ficlet #long short story #angst #rottmnt angst #sweet sweet angst #crossover #mutant april o'neil #mutant april #tmnt au #tmnt au competition #tmnt au propaganda

[slippinmickeys]

Totality

Fiona made me write an eclipse fic.

Scully gently shut the door behind her, the crisp blue duffle with leather handles in her grip; the go-bag she always left in her car, just in case. It had been a just-in case, Mulder had to admit. They’d had to fly to Idaho with no time to pack, and had worked a grueling five days straight on a series of local murders with only enough time to catch maybe four hours of sleep a night and pop into a shabby JC Penneys once for more underwear. They were both overworked, overtired, and their suits–of which each of them only had two–were overworn; ripe with the scents of stale sweat and stale coffee and stale eau de morgue. 

Scully looked weary as she handed over the bag to where Mulder stood in front of their rental car’s open trunk. 

“How far away is the airport again?” she asked, squinting up at him as he deposited her bag next to his and slammed the trunk closed. 

“Only about an hour,” he answered, mentally girding himself for what he was about to tell her. “But, I uh,” he went on, “pushed back our flights to this evening.”

Her posture visibly slumped. “You…what?” 

Mulder bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t made a horrible miscalculation. He knew she wanted nothing more than to get home, slide into a hot bath and pull the covers over her head for three straight days. She’d certainly earned it. 

“Hop in the car,” he said, moving to the driver’s side door. “I have a surprise.”

He was exhausted himself, his nerves shot. He was running on caffeine and cortisol, his skeleton rattling with every step. But this…she would like this. He was sure of it. 

“Mulder,” she said wearily, a whine in her voice that he’d rarely had the opportunity to hear. But she said nothing more and reluctantly dropped into the passenger seat, leaning her head against the headrest and rolling it to look at him beseechingly after she’d clicked her seat belt on. 

Mulder turned the ignition and the sedan growled to life under them. 

“It’s a good surprise,” he assured her. 

She only sighed, and they bumped out of the hotel parking lot and onto town’s main drag, the sun shining on the shabby line of depressing suburbia. Ten minutes and five stop lights later, Mulder pulled into the mostly empty parking lot of a dying mall, the tires popping over stray gravel and broken glass. He cranked the wheel and the car swung over the cracked asphalt in front of a defunct Frederick & Nelson, turning in a reflex angle and stopping when the sun shone in full through the windshield. He killed the engine. 

Scully opened her mouth to say something, but he reached into the inner pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a couple scraps of cardboard, handing one over before she could voice a complaint. 

It took her a moment to register what he was handing her. 

“Eclipse glasses?” she said, sitting up a little in her seat. 

Mulder had found the black polymer lenses next to the cash register at a local coffee shop that morning, the bespectacled co-ed working it disinterestedly telling him he could have two pairs for a dollar. 

The upcoming eclipse had been in the news recently, but he’d mostly ignored it–back east it would only be partial at best, the path of totality only hitting the Pacific Northwest and parts of Canada. Four murders and a rough case later, he hadn’t given it another thought. Until that morning in the coffee shop. 

“We’re in the path of totality here,” he explained. “We’ll only get it for about a minute and ten seconds according to the local newspaper, but I thought you might like to see it.”

A look Mulder couldn’t read crossed over her face and he swallowed.

“The next full eclipse over North America won’t be until 2017,” he went on nervously. “I can probably change the tickets back if you-”

Scully reached out and put a warm hand on his arm, cutting him off. 

“I’d love to see it,” she said delicately. “Thank you.”

Despite the dark smudges under her eyes, the soft smile she gave him quieted any lingering apprehension about his decision, and he gave her a smile back. 

“I figured we could get on the hood, lean against the windshield,” he said.

“What time does it start?” she asked, popping her wrist out from her sleeve to look at her watch. 

“In about five minutes,” he grinned. 

Scully fingered the glasses and then opened her car door. Energized, Mulder did the same. 

“I ask you to avert your eyes,” he said drolly, putting a hand on the warm hood of the car before awkwardly lumbering his way on top of it, the metal plane thumping loudly under him as it dented to accommodate his weight and then popped back into place. 

Scully, opting to watch, looked on primly. 

Once he was settled, he held out a hand. 

“Milady,” he said, and she settled her warm palm onto his, grabbing on while she put a foot on top of the tire and dexterously swung herself up next to him. 

“Nimble,” he complimented her, reluctantly letting go of her hand. 

She shrugged and leaned back gingerly against the windshield, mindful of the smear of desiccated bugs across the face of it. 

“Here, wait,” Mulder said. He sat up quickly and peeled off his suit coat, rolling it into a ball to tuck behind her head, pillow-like. 

“Thanks,” she said quietly. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Mulder could feel something ineffable pass between them. He coughed once awkwardly, and then pressed his eclipse glasses to his face, the sharp cardboard edge digging into the skin behind his ear. 

“How do I look?” he asked. 

“Like a dork,” Scully said, delicately donning her own, in, Mulder hoped, solidarity. 

She looked nothing like a dork, Mulder thought, eyeing the sharp lines of her face. She looked like a space girl, sleek and silver, an otherworldly beauty. 

He cleared his throat. “So do you.”

Scully’s face was tilted to the sky and he turned to follow her gaze. 

“It’s starting,” she said, her voice a little irreverent. 

Mulder looked at the sun, dark through polymer lenses of the protective eyewear. The moon was just beginning to edge itself in front of its celestial sister; incremental, pendulous. 

Lacking the pillow he’d given Scully, he raised his arms up and bent his elbows, resting his head back against cupped hands. Beside him, Scully breathed serenely.  He caught a whiff of his fusty clothing and hoped his jacket had fared better in the olfactory department than his shirt. 

They were silent for long minutes, watching the gradual procession of moon across sun. The day was bright but began to take on a verging luminosity, and Mulder raised his glasses up to take a look at the dark shadow of the car under them, which took on an off-putting sharpness against the dusty asphalt. 

“What do you think ancient peoples made of solar eclipses?” came Scully’s voice, a little dreamy. “What must they have thought?”

It was an invitation to oratory. A small gift. Mulder smiled. 

“Cultures throughout the world had wildly different theories,” he said, and Scully turned her head towards him, her eyes hidden behind the dark lenses. “Most of them, obviously, wildly incorrect.” Despite the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes, her look was encouraging. 

“The sun being devoured was popular,” he went on. “From the Norse mythology of Sköll,” at this she smiled. “To Asian cultures like in Java and Vietnam that variously had creatures or monsters swallowing the sun. It was commonly held in ancient China that a celestial dragon attacked and devoured it. Here in the Northwest, the Pomo people’s name for a solar eclipse is ‘Sun got bit by a bear.’”

The bear, Mulder mused, was widening its jaw. It was getting gradually darker, and he could feel the temperature start to dip. He put his glasses back on and looked back at the sun. 

“The Inca and Ancient Greek believed eclipses were a sign of a wrathful and unhappy god.”

Scully hummed. “The word ‘eclipse’ comes from the Greek word meaning ‘abandonment.’”

“Right,” Mulder said, “though I think I prefer mythologies of a more solicitous nature.”

Scully raised her glasses to give him a look. “Solicitous?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Mulder couldn’t help his grin. “In Australian oral traditions, the moon falls in love with the sun and chases her across the sky. If caught, the sun plunges the world into darkness. Medicine men recite magical chants to combat the evil omen. In German mythology, the sun and the moon are married. One rules the day while the other the night. When the moon is lonely, he’s drawn to his bride and they come together to create a solar eclipse.”

She looked at him frankly. “You know a weird amount about eclipses.”

“I like to impress you.”

“Is this why you were so late getting back to the hotel this morning? Research? My coffee was cold.”

“But are you impressed?”

“I wasn’t impressed by the coffee…”

Mulder gave her a long look, the odd light turning her hair a hazy copper wool.

“I like the German one best,” she finally said, plunking her glasses back on and leaning back to gaze at the sky. 

“Me too,” Mulder said. 

More long minutes of silence between them with the occasional car whooshing past on the roadway. Mall security drove by them slowly and Mulder gave the rent-a-cop a small salute. It was impossible to see Scully with the glasses on, so he kept taking them off. 

“You’re going to permanently burn your macula,” Scully said from beside him, not taking her eyes off the welkin of the heavens above them. 

He ran his eyes over the brushstroke of freckles on her nose. She was goddess-like; as luminous as a star. If he was the moon, he’d chase her through the sky, too. 

“You lose enough photoreceptors you won’t pass your next firearms recertification.”

He was tempted to tell her that in all the years he’d known her, her shine hadn’t damaged anything but his poor, lonely heart, but pulled his glasses back down and looked to the sun. It was nearly covered.

He sighed and felt her hand reach for his. His heart beat hard once against his sternum. 

“You can take them off during the totality,” she said, squeezing. “And should. It’s supposed to be incredible.”

“You ever seen it?” He asked her quietly. She was still holding onto his hand. 

“I missed the one in ‘79.”

“Me too,” he said. 

Around them, the air had taken on a distinct chill and the light shining down had grown metallic. Next to the car, in the long shadows of the trees along the edge of the mall driveway appeared little crescents. The colors on the mall’s signage dimmed and brightened. Mulder sat up and pulled his glasses off and blinked, shaking his head. The world felt odd, he couldn’t properly adjust his vision. It felt decidedly like the moment after someone takes your picture with a bright flash.

Scully still held his hand and squeezed it. 

“It’s called the Purkinje effect,” she said calmly, pulling off her own glasses with her other hand, and looking around with a wondrous smile. “As we near totality and the light dims, our eyes transition from photopic vision–which uses the retina’s cone cells to deliver full colors and fine detail–toward scotopic night vision, which relies on rod cells to detect objects in low light. When the light’s intensity dims in an eclipse, colors with longer wavelengths like red will look darker as the cones become less active. But rods are sensitive to shorter blue-green wavelengths, and those colors will appear to shine. It’s not just you. It’s the rod and cone cells in your eyes trying to make sense of the sudden dimness.”

Scully put her glasses back on and looked up at the eclipse. Mulder felt a surge of something so like love that his eyes burned. 

Scully pulled in a sudden inhale of breath. 

“The totality,” she said, pulling off her glasses and gazing up. “It’s starting.”

Mulder raised his eyes to the heavens. The world was dusk-like, the stars in the top of the dome of the heavens were winking on. In the bushes nearby, crickets began to chirp. 

The eclipse itself was like nothing he’d seen before outside of a big budget movie. The moon was utter blackness, but along the upper edge of the eclipsed sun was a hot pink half-ring that erupted into a single bring spot along the edge of the moon’s shadow like the diamond in a giant engagement ring formed by the rest of the sun’s atmosphere.

And then the flaming plasma of corona as the moon reached complete totality. Second contact. It was a living thing. Streams of white light danced around the ring of the black moon. Scully gasped in pleasure and Mulder couldn’t help but exclaim: “Wow!”

He pulled his eyes from the eclipse itself and looked around. Along the entire horizon, all 360 degrees of it, was in full, brilliant sunset. Everything else was the darkness of post golden-hour. He turned toward his partner and locked eyes with her. Her smile was brilliant, and she held his gaze for only a moment before canting her face back to the eclipse itself. 

“This is incredible,” she said breathlessly. 

He had found, as the years of their partnership wound on, that their job turned them into ecstatics, subject to mystical experiences. This was perhaps the most transcendent of them all. He would remember the moment forever. 

 “It is,” he agreed. 

A sharp flash, and Scully squeezed his hand. 

“Third contact,” she said. “Put your glasses back on.”

He did as she asked, and they leaned back and watched in silence as the moon continued its journey, as the sky relit and the nighttime animals calmed, as the world came back to itself. 

Eventually, Scully sat up. The light was still odd, seeming to come almost from inside her, and she lowered her glasses and leaned in to him. For a heady, divine moment, Mulder thought she was about to kiss him, but instead she pressed her cool lips to his cheek, her hair falling down to brush along the skin of his jaw. 

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said, and then straightened, the cool air rushing to fill the space she’d just been. 

“You’re welcome, Scully,” he said, his voice a little rough. He lowered his glasses slowly and watched her slide off the hood of the car, watched her stretch and smile to herself; a Mona Lisa grin gently stretching the planes of a face with the same faultless symmetry of the celestial bodies sliding across the sky.

#the x files #fanfic #my fic #ficlet #prompt #msr #please forgive the scientific/historical/canon inaccuracies #i really should have been working

[story-island]

Shot From Above (Simon Riley X Fem Reader)

A/N: Hey everyone! I wrote this one as a longer piece, I might post a part two or the other half might just end up as a whole separate work, because it could be. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Summary: You and Ghost are on the tail end of a convoy and get shot from above by helicopter. Forcing you and Ghost to get a little closer. Super fluffy aside from descriptions of gun fighting.

Warnings: Descriptions of being shot at, Car roll over, Explosions, Swearing

Word Count: 2.6K

"Ghost, we got birds!" you said to the man sitting passenger to you.

"I see that Birdie, weird being on the other side?" he asked calmly as you drove, avoiding RPG shots as you went.

"Yeah, it fucking sucks" you replied, still keeping your eyes on the road and bird.

You were known to be on one of the best helicopter support teams, so being at the receiving end of chopper fire was new to you.

"Can you get a shot on it?" you asked annoyed that he hadn't even looked out to see it better.

"No, my rounds won't make it that high and still damage enough."

Your mind was reeling, you needed to feel in control of something, everything was up in the air, and you were narrowly avoiding the shots at this point.

"Fuck okay, when they get in range, the tail is your best shot, it might spiral out of control with enough rounds." you said, feeling your anxiety grab you tighter.

"When did you start out-ranking me?" Ghost asked with only a small bit of anger in his voice.

"Um . . I don't sir"

"Then you don't tell me where to put my bullets do you"

"No sir, sorry sir, won't happen again" you said, through a voice crack.

"Don't be sorry, do better." He said coldly.

"Yes sir."

The rockets were getting closer and closer, and you were running out of road and ideas, but the silence that fell in the cab made it a little easier. That was until you miss calculated when you needed to punch it to get out of range. It was a simple mistake that anyone could have made, but it was enough to put you in some deep shit.

In a flash the front of your truck was hit, forcing you to go straight into a series of rolls. You ended up somewhere off the road, mind fuzzy and vision blurry you moved to unbuckle yourself quickly. Noticing that you were the only one in the car. Once you fell to the roof of the vehicle you knew you only had moments to kick out the glass and run for your life. But fuck did it hurt to move, you were banged up pretty bad.

Moving yourself, screaming as you kicked as hard as possible against the glass. It broke the first try, and before you could crawl out, a strong hand was pulling you out by your leg. Ghost had obviously fared better, being able to pull you up in a flash.

"Tree cover" he half yelled, forcing both of you into an all-out sprint.

Not five seconds after you made it away from the truck it exploded, almost pushing you to the ground. Still hearing shots from above, you weren't sure if they would follow you or go after the rest of your convoy. You hoped that you toyed with the Helo long enough for everyone to split up and find their own ways back to base.

"You good?" Ghost asked, breaking the silence before slowing down to a jog for your sake.

"Yeah" you said, breathlessly, thankful he slowed down a bit.

"Your bleeding" he commented, seeing a pretty nasty looking cut on your head.

"Yeah" you responded.

He caught how distant you were with the response, so instead Ghost changed the subject.

"Safe house is three miles out, keep up" he said.

"Sure thing L.T." you said, as he pushed back into a run, slightly slower than before.

The majority of the run was quiet, you were focused on the pain you were feeling, trying to push through. However, at some point you spoke up to thank Ghost for saving you.

"Thank you for getting me out, and not just leaving me in the truck" you said, breathily.

Ghost didn't respond with more than a nod in your direction. He heard you.

You weren't more than five minutes out from Ghost's safe house, but you were getting tired, and the pain was still draining you piece by piece. Eventually though you came to a small one-story building in a big clearing on a hill. It was a nice little place, with great advantage points in case of ambush.

"We stay here for the night," Ghost said, hoping through a window.

This time it was your turn not to respond, just following him into the building.

"Since you'll be up taking care of that nasty thing, why don't you take first watch." he said, dropping some of his gear in a room he seemed to claim.

"Yes sir" you stated, annoyed at him, he must be punishing you at this point.

"I'll be sleeping, wake me when you get too tired." he said, hating how silent you were.

Dropping some of your stuff you went to get a med kit and a mirror. Settling in a room with two windows that looked different ways you got comfortable. Taking a moment to take care of yourself you held the mirror up and saw how bad it looked. It was large, but not as deep as it could be. Didn't need stitches, Ghost wouldn't have made you run if it was that serious. So, you cleaned up the dried blood from your face before bandaging it for a little so it could start healing.

You were determined to have the bandage off before you went back, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. But for now, you would keep it as clean as possible. When you were done, and the med pack was put back together you finally settled in for a long night of being hard on yourself.

Being a naturally anxious person made quiet nights like this hell, having just got in trouble in the past few hours. You escaped into your mind, trying to figure out how to be better as Ghost suggested. Though it might be extreme to some you decided the best way to stop today's event from repeating was to start being quieter. The messed-up logic being that if you don't speak as much you won't accidentally order your superiors around.

You also figured it best to stay on watch for as long as possible, not wanting to meet a cranky Ghost. So, the night fell, and you watched. At some point you saw it getting lighter out, realizing it was daytime you lost any hope of getting sleep. Watching the horizon, you failed to notice the massive, but quiet Ghost behind you.

"It's morning, why didn't you wake me?" he asked, with an edge to his tone.

"I never got that tired." you lied, barely keeping a yawn in.

"Don't lie to me" he warned, stepping closer, now only a little more than a foot separating the two of you.

You didn't respond.

"Jesus Christ Y/N I am not punishing you, fucking nine hours on watch is too much when there are two of us. We talked about this not even a month ago, four-hour shifts and you wake me up." He stated, anger radiating off his body, but it didn't seem to be directed all at you.

"What do you want me to do then" you asked, looking for some way to fix the mess you were in.

"Go sleep" He ordered.

"Yes sir," you said, gathering your shit and leaving the room.

It didn't take a genius to see how tired you really were, beating yourself up in your mind all night. Finding the bed Ghost had slept in you collapsed and fell asleep in seconds. Not even bothering with the blankets. But it didn't matter because you were so deep in sleep that a bomb could have gone off and you would have slept through it.

Regardless of how tired you were, waking up in a place that you weren't supposed to be scary. Opening your eyes in a flash, and frantically looking around. Seeing Ghost driving the truck you were in, you relaxed a little.

"Where are we?" you asked in a scratchy voice.

"Back road, thirty minutes from base" Ghost replied, in a calm tone.

"How long was I out?"

"Only six hours, but I was trying not to wake you." he said, sparing you a few looks.

"Why not just wake me up? Be easier than carrying dead weight." you said, starting to feel more awake with a stretch.

"You needed rest." Ghost said, but secretly he knew something you didn't know about your sleeping habits.

When he picked you up to put you in the vehicle, you weren't dead weight, you were very clingy weight. Almost immediately wrapping your arms around his neck, not wanting to let go even after you were finally buckled in. But he wouldn't tell you, locking that memory in a vault for him to enjoy.

Nodding in response, but not liking the answer you tried to change the subject.

"So, what's happening?" you questioned.

"Managed to get in contact with Price, they secured what they needed and not casualties on our side. He was relieved to hear we were well though." Ghost responded.

"Ok, good to know."

The air went dead, neither one of you willing to break to silence. You were still trying to stay quiet, so you started picking at your nail beds.

"What, no comments to make over there?" Ghost finally managed after a few minutes.

"About what?" you asked, noting that Ghost saw you were acting differently.

"Anything, the weather, asking what we are doing next, fuck even something about how my mask is pointless from an optical perspective. Just something, you're always chatty." He said, frustrated because he wanted to hear your lighthearted voice ring through the truck.

"What if I just don't want to talk?" you asked, looking over, meeting his eyes for only a moment.

"You're making a bad habit of lying to me when it comes to you."

"I'm not lying" you bit back, starting to get snappy.

"Then what is your reason?" he pushed, not backing away from a little bark.

Looking through the window you quieted down and managed a response, but not one you wanted to give.

". . .My mouth makes me a liability, it can get me in trouble, and it did. I'm not exactly ready to go looking for more issues."

"That's what this is about? Seriously?" Ghost asked, almost sounding relieved that it wasn't something worse.

"Yeah" you said, feeling small because of his reaction.

"I was reminding you of your place, not telling you to shut up."

"You're still my superior sir, I shouldn't run my mouth, it's disrespectful." you tried to defend. Knowing full well it was a terrible defense at best.

" You know damn well that's bullshit. We are on a team; I need everyone at one hundred percent. I know for a fact when you aren't talking, you're mentally tearing yourself apart. That can't happen in the field." Ghost explained.

"How . . . Soap that mother fucker" you said, hearing your own words against you. Only telling Soap that when you're quiet you're usually not doing good on the inside.

"Don't blame him, I would have gotten that information eventually."

"Why do you even care?" you asked, managing to look back over at your L.T.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" he asked, giving you another glance.

"No, you need me at the top of my game in the field."

"There you go" he said, almost in a protective tone like a father might say it to his kids.

"Then what do you want to do about it?" you asked, knowing Ghost probably wouldn't go for what you actually needed.

"I'm not in your head, what do you need?"

"Ghost, I can't ask those things of you" you said, looking to your lap.

"Do I have to order you?" he asked with a firmer tone.

"You really want to know?"

"Jesus, just spit it out."

"Pull over" you said, knowing it was pushing an order.

Ghost just nodded and did as you asked. Now stopped he gave you his full attention. Taking a deep breath, you told him.

"I need to hear you say that you don't hate me . . . and a hug."

You met his gaze and saw something in his eyes, some sort of understanding, and not a single ounce of rejection. Even still you felt the need to walk back your words.

"I can go to Soap if you don't want to," you said.

"No, it wouldn't mean as much from him."

Only managing to hum in agreement with the man. Looking back to his eyes he spoke.

"Y/N, I do not hate you . . . I actually quite enjoy your company." Ghost spoke, letting the British slip through a little more than usual.

His words caused tears to well in your eyes, never spilling over, but noticeably there.

"Thank you"

"Now get out of this vehicle and come get your hug." he said with warm eyes.

Practically jumping out of the truck you ran over to Ghost's side, where he stood, towering over you. Not even waiting for a confirmation that you could touch him, you leaped up, giving him a koala hug. Ghost was shocked but he had found his hands under your butt as you clung to him.

"Ok there, you Koala we need to get back on the road" Ghost teased, before letting you drop back to the ground.

"Yes sir!" you responded suddenly feeling so many different emotions.

Back on your game, you leaped into the truck with a smile on your face.

"Feeling better?" he asked after you were driving again.

"Much, thanks again Ghost."

"You know you can come to me, right? It doesn't just have to be Soap" he said, glancing in your direction again.

Ghost was watching you, he didn't usually keep looking over. Normally he would just drive, but you could see that something was different. So, when you responded you tried to match the weird vibe, he was giving off.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind . . . you know the mask isn't a bad thing, even if it isn't practical."

Taking a moment to let your words sink in a little, Ghost responded.

"You never wonder what's under it?"

"I never said that, but I figure it has to do with your issues, just like I have mine. Regardless, it's still a version of you . . . I still get to know a piece of you." you finished off quieter than you started, but Ghost heard you.

"That's a nice way to think of it," he said, soothingly.

You hummed in agreement and turned to the window, looking out to see a sunny, cloudless sky.

"You know, the sun is nice, but the sky is much prettier with clouds." You said, not meaning for it to be deep, but Ghost held your words close to his heart.

"Sounds like a good motto for life," he said.

"I suppose it is," you agreed with a smile.

The rest of the drive back to base was quiet aside from your little comments. It was nice, for both of you. So, when the base finally came into view you couldn't help but be a little sad you won't be able to spend more time with the man.

Sadly, you couldn't stop time, so you climbed out of the truck and greeted the rest of the team with a smile. Ghost seemed to disappear the second you didn't have an eye on him. Probably off to his room. But that was ok, you were happy with the small moment you shared in the privacy of that vehicle. Only hoping you would have the chance to see more of him in the future.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #comfort #cute #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #soft simon riley #car accident #fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #x reader #x y/n #x you fluff #x you #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #helicopter #explosion #truck #modern warfare x you #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare ii