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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months

Note

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wraith. Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

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seraphdreams · 1 year

Text

DREAMIN' — underground racing miniseries.

“being a pretty flag girl is more than waving around banners and wearing cute skirts.”

WARNINGS. this series contains an ungodly amount of smut. reader discretion is advised. topics explored are: gangbanging, drugs, gang activities, semi-dark content, weapons, dub/noncon. each fic will be tagged with its own warnings. 18+ only.

NOTE. finally putting out this series that i’ve been thinking about for a while now. i hope you all enjoy it. each fic is inspired by a song so listen to them!

— STARTING LINE UP.

PART I — NO PHOTOS.

SHIBUYA CITY CHAMPION, BAJI KEISUKE GOES HEAD TO HEAD WITH KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

PART II — BLINDING LIGHTS.

BRAHMAN’S PRINCESS RACES AGAINST BONTEN’S MASTERMIND, MANJIROU SANO.

PART III — P POWER.

DRAKEN V. HANMA SHUJI.

PART IV — TASTE.

IZANA KUROKAWA FLIES ALL THE WAY FROM MANILA TO RACE AGAINST BEST FRIEND, KAKUCHO HITTO!

PART V — TO BE ANNOUNCED.

Bonten had somewhat of a ritual. It wasn’t anything too crazy like pentagrams or summoning the dead relatives of their victims, but something that made them, them. It was the driving force of all their operations, the sole source that kept the organization afloat. When things went awry they knew they could always count on this one thing, something minor yet major.

Money.

Money granted them connections to criminal organizations around the world. Allies established, and enemies gained. The issue here was that Bonten was bored. All the money in the world couldn’t snatch them from their odd day to day realities of being glorified hitmen, they needed excitement. Something new.

“Any ideas?” All 8 of the men sat around the large lacquered oak table with a particular noble at the forefront. He wore a black suit with a white tie that complimented the strands atop his head. His gaze was empty, as if the light had died out ages ago. There’s two standing beside him, one with a blond skunk strip and slick back hair, the other with the same style except it was platinum all around and a short beard adorned the lower half of his face.

If you didn’t know them, you’d steer clear—They looked intimidating, terrifying almost. You knew Bonten too well though; under all that hardened criminalism were just regular salarymen.

You stood next to where Koko sat. A snarky young man with low patience. It’s hard for you to get under his skin like the others do, and though he’d never admit it, he did have a thing for his little assistant. “We already do so much, I doubt taking on other projects would benefit us financially.” Koko retorts to Mikey’s query. His hands are folded under his chin, propping his head up as if he was bored of the conversation that only lasted two minutes so far.

“Look at you only thinkin’ ‘bout a quick buck. Ya never change, do ya?” It was Sanzu who spoke. Eccentric as he is, when Mikey was in the room he was loyal like a dog. He was one of the many variables that contributed to Kokonoi’s premature graying. Never have they ever gotten along.

“It’s not always about profit. We could expand territory and utilize it for something bigger like weapon trade, or women.” The eldest Haitani spoke. You favored something about him, possibly the eyes or his charismatic nature. He was a caring soul as well, he put his brother above his own life whether Rindou liked it or not. “Bouncing off Ran’s idea, what about Okinawa?” Kakucho uttered.

Usually you tuned out business talk, it wasn’t important to your job. All you were paid to do was look pretty and occasionally pass out paperwork, but the topic at hand piqued your interest. Hitto continues, “We own land in Okinawa, we could build another headquarters there, a casino maybe?”

It seemed as though Manjiro finally took his children into consideration, nodding along with the conversation. “A casino is for idiots, let’s do underground racing.” Sanzu adds. There’s silence and judgmental stares before Mikey finally allows himself to speak once more. “I like it.”

“You can’t be serious, Boss?” Takeomi asks from his spot behind. “How can we even—”

It’s Hajime who interjects this time, the wheels seemingly turning in his head. “If we combine both Hitto and his idea, we could host bets and call in racers. I’m thinking motorcycles over cars. We can’t risk importing illegal vehicles overseas.”

That was just it. The very proposal that’ll put words to action. With a seance of agreeances, Mikey turns to Rindou for finalization. “Make it happen, Haitani.” Rin nods before taking a quick glance at you and back to his leader. “A flag girl’ll be nice too, preferably a hot bimbo.”

You were too fixated on checking your fresh manicure to feel the stares of all the men burning into your frame. The clearing of Kakucho’s throat pulls you from your focus and you finally make the realization. “Hm?”

Mikey tunes his attention back to Rindou, the one notorious for his connections with about any and everyone. “Call up your best racers and fly them to Okinawa. Set up a hotel and headquarters while you’re at it. Let’s take a little business trip.”

With the meeting adjourned, the plan sets in motion.

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vvynia · 4 months

Text

smut ramble: ellie reading your body

pairing: e. williams x reader

genre: smut + fluff

word count: 440

warnings: language that explicitly denotes reader as afab, this is literally smut so reader's discretion is advised for that alone and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mention of past erotic choking but overall very vanilla

author’s note: i was straight up in the middle of reading another fic writer’s smut and got a burst of inspiration, then i wrote this. yay !! also, as a black woman, i usually write for black readers but reader’s race doesn’t make a monumental impact in this little drabble x4, so go crazy !! also, these dividers are by @cafekitsune ! the goat.

just had the most random (not really, i’ve been thinking about this for the last week and a half actually) thought of how tender ellie is with you; how, when she has you naked under the heat of her eyes, spread open for her in the most testimonal manner, she presses her center to your’s with the utmost care; how she slots her body against your’s just right. skin to skin, breaths in sync. that harmony always comes to an end, however, when she begins to circle her hips. her goal is to catch your clit with her’s just how you both like.

you’re sopping wet and, goodness, she can hear so vivdly the way her essence mingles with yours—lovingly, carnally, desperately. the slick of you two is hightened by the silence and stillness of the room. after all, not much moves on the acres of a farm in the middle of jackson county, wyoming just hours before sunrise (except the two women occupying the house, of course).

the aura around you two buzzes, and as she grows more needy for her release, ellie’s grunts and pants waltz with your whines. her gait is getting you a little too worked up for her liking, however. she sees the signs: tremoring thighs, thready inhales, lost hands begging for a place to squeeze and tug for refuge.

these make her slow just enough to turn your cries indignant. you lift your eyelids so you can glare your annoyance into her, but ellie’s already caught you in her gaze.

she husks, “keep ‘em open, baby.” she leans further into you to put a calloused hand on your cheek and a soft kiss upon your lips. “you gotta keep ‘em open if you wanna cum harder, remember?”

you do remember.

you remember the first time ellie made you squirt. it was when she’d wrapped her hand into a near-fist around your throat and forced you to give her your undivided attention as she fucked her strap into you at a pace so brutal, you had bambi legs afterward.

though, like i said, ellie williams is gentle today. she realigns your focus by gradually finding the pace she’d kept before your burst of excitement. she splays her hand across your hip, smooches the plush of your calf, and manages to never lose your eyes the entire time.

a cracked moan and a yelp later, you cum unbidden.

the moral of the story lies here: ellie speaks the language of your body as though she’s been studying linguistics for the entirety of her life. to such extent and farther, that is how much she loves you.

@picklesarenice69 - girl, i know this isn’t what you’ve been asking me to tag you in, but i wrote something and i thought you might appreciate it ��

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie x black!reader #ellie x black reader #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie williams x black reader #wlw #lesbian #tlou 2 #𝐯'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

Text

Chapter 25 - Release the Ice Bath Thirst Traps

Ok guys! here we go!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED (sorry for those who have asked)

For the very end of the chapter, there's something I made up for Singapore (this fact is made up just for the story)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, inbox messages, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

The moment you stepped out of the cool, airconditioned car, your team shirt suddenly clung to you. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead as you made your way through the paddock. Max had warned you that Singapore and Qatar would be impossibly hot: you just didn’t think it’d be this bad.

All you wanted to do now was go back to the hotel where it was ice cold. You wiped your brow with your forearm as you got closer to the garage. Giant fans welcomed you with air. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it would do. You were already on your third water today, smartly forgoing the Red Bull that was bound to make you dehydrated.

You stood next to Max as the team had a quick debrief. The heat was definitely getting to you, as you really couldn’t remember a word that anyone said. You blink your eyes as they were burning with sweat. Your older teammate could only offer you a remorseful smile.

Max could see that the heat wasn’t going too well with you. You had told him beforehand that some females, including you, just couldn’t regulate their temperatures as well as males could. Women often gave off more body heat than men did as well. This caused the Dutchman to send out a group text, warning the other drivers to look out for you.

You groaned as you tried to put on your fireproofs and race suit. The more you moved around, the more you seemed to sweat. You kept your suit tied around your waist. You definitely wouldn’t be putting it on until you had to be in the car.

Max was already zipped up by the time you returned.

“Here.” He handed you another ice cold water bottle.

“Thank you Max,” you croaked out, making the Dutchman look a little weary at you. You just smiled back.

“Once we qualify, we can go to the ice baths.”

Max would have thought that you would hate the idea since you always showered with the water at a boiling temperature. Yet, he could see that you were slightly “warming up” to the idea of a bath full of ice (pun intended).

From the corner, Mitch watched as you poured the remainder of your water on your head. She had requested a few ice packs to be ready for you when you arrived, but sadly they weren’t completely frozen. She’d make sure that you’d have them for tomorrow.

Surprisingly, your laps were great with you qualifying in P3, behind Charles once again. Halfway through, you had opened your visor, trying to get some air through your sweaty helmet. Your water pouch had to be refilled multiple times between sessions. Yet, your trainer advised you to try not to drink so much during the race, as they wouldn’t be able to refill.

Mitch had come over to your car as soon as you were back in. You gave her a big smile as you started to get out of the car.

“How are you doing kid?”

You took a moment to look at her outfit. Where a pantsuit should have been, there was a Red Bull Tank top and some very loose pants. You were jealous that she got to wear those while you were stuck with skin tight clothes.

You gasped a bit for some cooler air once your helmet was off.

“I’m good. Max said something about an ice bath?”

Your eyes were faintly glimmering with hope for something to cool you down. Mitch smiled at you.

“Yep. I put a change of clothes on your bed, but I think you need some help?”

You nodded at her question before heading to your room. You didn’t want to waste any time getting out of your suit.

The zipper came off smoothly. Mitch definitely saw that you had sweated through your fireproofs and felt terrible. Surely, there was something that the team could do.

You giggled. “I’ve probably already lost a few pounds.”

Mitch rolled her eyes at the terrible joke. If anything, there was truth in that statement. She had seen the numbers after you got weighed and you had lost a lot.

“Well, there will be lots of food for you to fill up on.”

“I hope we’re not going to go over the catering budget again.”

Mitch let out a snort as she helped you out of the sticky fire proofs. She pulled out a bag and handed it to you. You grinned at the sight of the limited clothes in the bag.

“I didn’t think that you’d want to go out in full bikini, so there’s a sports bra and some spandex shorts. I’ll wait for you by your door and will walk you to the back.”

Once Mitch left, you quickly peeled the rest of your clothes off. The sports bra and spandex were all black, and covered everything that needed to be. You said a quick thank you to her in your mind as you got dressed. Your skin was definitely cooler with no clothes to stick to, but you were still sweating.

You swung the door open.

“Ready to go?” you asked, giving her the bag back with your other clothes. They would definitely need to be washed by tomorrow.

You followed the woman to the back, going through multiple doors. Once she opened the door to the little outside area, your eyes landed on Max, who was already soaking. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head back on the tub.

Yours was a bit more like a giant trough, filled to the brim with ice.

Mitch spoke as you got closer. “We thought that you’d need more ice, hence why yours is bigger. It’s also more insulated with the metal than the plastic. Do not stay in more than 15 minutes. We don’t need your temperature dropping too much.”

You tossed your foot over and gingerly place a toe in, just to get a feel for it. The temperature was perfect and you found yourself sinking into the ice.

“You think it’s ok if I dunk my head?” you asked Max.

He didn’t even bother to open his eyes.

“Go for it kid.”

You held your breath as you sunk below the ice layer. Your brain went a bit fuzzy as the freezing water went over your scalp. You let your eyes open under the water, just to feel the cold and relieve the stinging.

Once you came up gasping for air, Max finally looked over.

“Had fun?” He laughed a bit.

You lovingly flipped him off. Your hands came and brushed your hair back. You looked over at Max’s plastic pool, and saw ducks in his. You pouted once you realized that you didn’t have any.

“What’s wrong kid?” the Dutchman asked at the sight of your pout.

You murmured, “I didn’t get any ducks.”

Max rolled his eyes before gently throwing one of his ducks into your pool. Your eyes immediately lit up as you began to play with it. Max just watched as you found so much joy in something so little. You felt his gaze and you guessed that you needed to say something.

“I never had a rubber duck growing up. It’s so cute.”

You held the little yellow thing in your hands, right in front of your face. Max had a sad smile as he watched.

“You have plans for after the race?”

You sighed as you let the duck rest on the water, not breaking the surface tension.

“Logan, Oscar, and Lando wanted to go see the city and I said I’d join them. Something about needing a good drive around Singapore.”

Max snorted. Of course the group of three would want to invite you. The door opened, which had the two of you whip your heads to it.

“Oh, hey David,” you greeted the photographer. You sank back into the ice, still enjoying the cold. Max groaned when he realized what David was there for.

You smirked as you looked over at your teammate. “Ready to do some thirst traps Max?”

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Let’s leave that for Ferrari and Lando.”

You giggled at the statement. “Yeah, I would rather not show much on screen. Taken woman and all.”

That time, Max laughed.

David looked apologetic. “Just need to get some pictures. Trust me, this isn’t my favorite.”

He took some pictures while you and Max tried to look as non-sexy as possibly. You definitely tried to sneak some goofy facial expressions in. You kept your whole body submerged and thankfully the ice kept anyone from seeing much below your neck. David quickly thanked the two of you for your time before leaving.

“Instagram is going to have a field with those.”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing splish, splash - racers in the ice baths

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.nation, rookie&maxie, landonorris, and 846,294 others

redbullfan what the heck is this?? this was not the thirst traps we wanted

maximillian he's giving "moto-moto likes you"

y/n.nation everyone is focused on the lack of thirst-traps, I'm just focused on the amount of ducks that Red Bull has

oscarpiastri what are your duck's names?

landonorris probably can't top cold, as, and fuck y/n.89 max's is James Pond and mine is Duck Norris landonorris my son?? y/n.89 no - something american so you won't understand logansargeant DUCK NORRIS RAWWRRRRR

rookie&co BOOOOOO TOMATOES TOMATOES TOMATOES

f1fan I know admin is hiding the thirst traps

charles_leclerc no thirst traps?

maxverstappen1 we leave that to you and the Spaniard y/n.89 I mean, I could be sexy if I wanted carlossainz55 sure chica, sure y/n.89 who is single? and who is taken maxverstappen1 HA

iamred_iamyellow ducks, ducks, ducks, ducks

You snorted at the Dutchman’s bluntness.

The timer on the wall signaled that it was time to get out. You let out a giant groan as you stood and climbed over.

Mitch came in with two big towels. One for you and one for Max. Your skin was finally covered with goosebumps instead of sweat. You quickly had an idea as you walked back to put normal clothes on.

“You think I could dunk my head in before I get in the car? I think my wet hair will keep my head cooler if I do. It’s something about heat escaping through your scalp when you overheat. If it’s covered by my balaclava and my helmet, it can’t escape.”

Mitch finished your thought process.

“So if you wet your hair, your scalp can be cooler longer.”

You nodded before heading into your room.

“Ah, Max wanted me to hand this to you.”

It was a normal Red Bull polo, which made your brows pinch in confusion. But, you shrugged and took it anyways.

However, once you started changing you realized that the shirt was almost three sizes too big. Yet, you grinned as you put it on. Since it was oversized, it wasn’t sticking to your skin as you started to sweat a little.

The crew laughed a bit at the sight of the giant shirt almost swallowing you. But, you didn’t care about that. You were significantly cooler and you could follow the last debrief of the day.

Sunday night came and went super-fast, and you were thankful this time around. You were definitely more cool that you had been for qualifying. Mitch had sent the ice vest to you early, so you didn’t start off too warm. With your hair being dunked in ice water, your head was cooler during the race. The little bit of breeze that you got helped as well.

That bit really helped you stay focused as you gained another podium. Surprisingly, this was Max’s first time winning in Singapore. Adrian really made sure that the car could keep up with the street race and not end it like 2023. Charles came in a very close second.

Charles and Max poured their champagne bottles onto your overheating body. Halfway through you needed to sit down. Your body was slowly becoming even more dehydrated and hot as the minutes passed by. You were kind of held by Max as the three of you left the podium.

The Dutchman had a worried grip on your bicep as he held you upright. He needed to get you some water, quickly. You thankfully weren’t on the verge of passing out, but he knew you were thirsty. He heard your radio toward the end where you were just begging for a drink. Max couldn’t imagine being without water, but he normally didn’t drink as much while racing.

He gently set you on a seat in the garage, before turning away to get some things. Your eyes were closed as you sat right under a fan. Max soon returned with a cooling towel and three bottles of water.

The cold of the towel made your eyes open as he put it on your neck. Your race suit was tied around your waist and your fireproof shift had been swapped for a thin, random oversized shirt. Max gently cooed as you leaned into the cold water bottle on your face.

“There you go,” he whispered as you finally were able to take big gulps of water. He unscrewed one of the other bottles before he lightly tipped it over your head. Streams of water ran down your face as you finished off the water bottle.

The team was glancing at the two of you. In the back of their minds, they were worried about how you’d react to Qatar, which was way worse. However, they held on to some hope that it would be cooler than last year due to it being moved later on the race calendar.

Your water bottle was on in moments. You flashed a smile at your worried teammate.

“Thanks,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath after guzzling.

Mitch came from the back with another woman who was holding a device. Mitch kneeled next to Max and put her hand on your knee.

“Hey kid, we just want to make sure that you’re okay. Brianna here is going to take your blood pressure and other vitals just to be safe.”

You only nodded and leaned your head against the wall. The medic made quick work and started to strap the device on. Max stood up and walked a bit away, just to give everyone some space. His eyes caught glimpses of orange, red, and blue and he could only guess who it was. He took one more glance at the situation before walking out of the garage.

Logan, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were waiting patiently by the opening. They all looked up once they heard Max walk out, but deflated when they realized it wasn’t the Red Bull driver they were looking for.

“Is she doing okay?” Charles asked first, concerning the other three boys.

Lando put his arms out, stopping any conversation.

“What does he mean by ‘is she doing ok?’ Where’s Y/n?” the Brits voice going more high pitched the more he started to panic.

Max sighed. “She’s just having a hard time with the heat. She got super dehydrated this weekend and really couldn’t get over it.”

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

“They’re just checking vitals I think, to make sure everything is ok.”

Logan sighed loudly in concern. He definitely knew what it was like, getting memories from Qatar 2023.

The American asked, “Is she going to race in Qatar?”

Max blinked slowly before answering. “She wants to. The team is really hoping that it’s going to be significantly cooler than last year. And they know to get her started on hydration much earlier. I talked to her physio and she thinks that Y/n’s diet also wasn’t right.”

Oscar raised his eyebrows. “Diet?”

Max nodded. “Yeah. She was apparently eating foods that might dehydrate the body, like lots of salt. Her physio said that she’ll start her on more fruits and water heavy foods way in advance. And drinks as well, more electrolytes.”

Lando nodded in agreement. “I remember when I had to do that. They took away my chips for like….months.”

They had been so into talking that they didn’t notice that you had walked out, now changed into shorter shorts and a bigger top (one that Charles strangely recognized as one of his brother’s shirts).

“Are we ready to go?” you asked, getting closer. “Lando is driving because I am done for today.”

The boys looked a bit guilty at your tired face.

Oscar spoke up first. “We don’t have to go driving if you don’t want to. We know you’re probably tired.”

You waved your hands and made a sound. “Nope, I’m good. Nothing will ever beat the one time I spent an entire summer on a farm in the middle of Texas.”

You pretended to shiver at the thought, making the group laugh.

Charles suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place (well, second because he was worried about you after the podium). He handed you a small bag. Opening it up, you saw a bright colored water bottle. You raised your eyebrow in question.

The Monegasque smirked. “From you know how.”

Your face practically melted at the loving gesture as you looked at it. Lando, Oscar, and Logan suddenly got the memo.

Logan wrapped an arm around you first. “Aww such a sweet little boyfriend.”

Oscar looked at Lando.

“Where’s my water bottle?” he mocked whined, batting his eyelashes at the Brit. Your rolled your eyes.

Lando put his arms around the Aussie. “Don’t worry love, it’s in the car.”

The Brit puckered his lips before pretending to lean in. You just watched with an annoyed grin on your face. You looked at Max and Charles and winked, the Dutchman and Monegasque getting what you were about to do. You shrugged Logan’s arm off before taking a step toward your teammate.

But, you purposefully made your knees buckle and fell into Max and Charles’s waiting arms. Lando and Oscar shut up quickly, before yelling that you needed help. Except that they heard your giggles as Max put you back on your feet.

“I was just kidding.”

The trio huffed.

Logan murmured, “That was not funny.”

Charles snorted. “Oh but it was. Should have seen your faces.”

Your giggled died out before you asked, “Are we ready to go? I think I’ll melt if I stand out here for any longer.”

Lando flicked your forehead. “We were just waiting on you.”

The four of you said your goodbyes to Max and Charles before heading to the parking lot. Somehow, Logan got his hands on a Jeep to take the four of you somewhere. And, he was even able to get the top off. And because he claimed it was an all American brand, Logan begged Lando to let him drive it. Lando reluctantly handed over the keys.

You claimed earlier that you needed shotgun, because “men can’t be passenger princesses.” Oscar and Lando tried to disagree.

The breeze from outside in addition to the cool air-conditioning from the car was perfect. You let everyone have their turn with the aux, praying that they wouldn’t pick anything too embarrassing.

Oscar ripped the phone out of your hands when Logan tried to request Free Bird again.

The Aussie sighed as the American whined.

“We are not having another shirt ripped or a speeding ticket.”

You laughed as Logan tried to hit Oscar in the back. At an empty road, Lando grabbed his camera.

“Bug, put your head out the window real fast.”

You did as suggested and smiled toward the camera that Lando was holding.

Immediately you had a sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was actual friends in the car and not just your manager. You thought back to how far you’ve come since the night before going to Milton.

Lando laughed as he looked at the camera.

He spoke, “This reminds me about the time that me and my friends were driving around and then this car pulled up next to ours. They were blasting What Makes You Beautiful and there was this girl in the front seat.”

Your cheeks were becoming warm as Lando kept telling the story: that was definitely about you. Lando kept blabbing about the night.

“And then the next morning, I got out of my hotel elevator and I think the same girl literally bulldozed me over. Didn’t say sorry or anything. I just thought it was funny, she seemed like she was in a rush.”

Logan was laughing at the story, but got concerned at your flushed appearance and sudden quietness.

“You alright champ? Do we need to get you some more water?”

At the sound of the question, Lando and Oscar were leaning up, trying to look to see if you were going to actually pass out. Lando was already on his phone, trying to bring up Max’s contact to call just in case.

However, you started laughing, making the trio at ease. You tried to cover your giggles with your mouth. You had this bright look in your eyes.

“That was actually me Lando. Sorry about that.”

Lando’s jaw dropped at the reveal.

You gave a half shrug. “Arthur was waiting for me in my hotel room and I was excited to see him.”

Logan’s and Oscar’s shoulders were shaking as they kept laughing at Lando’s facial expressions. The Brit huffed and crossed his arms, mouth formed into a pout.

“You owe me a race win now.”

“Excuse you?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh, guys?” Logan asked, but you and Lando ignored him.

“Get your own race win. You’ve done it before.”

“Cause Max crashed out.”

“That’s not true.”

“Guys?” Oscar’s voice also sounded, worry in his tone.

“Lando, it’s really not that hard. You just go around him.”

“It’s a tractor versus a rocket ship. One cannot simply just go around.”

“GUYS!”

“What?” you and Lando yelled at the same time. Once the car was silent, you finally noticed that it had stopped moving.

“Logan why aren’t you driving?”

You looked at the American, who was slightly shaking while looking in the rearview mirror. Your eyes glanced at it, blue and red lights reflecting through the glass. You looked behind you and saw the source.

“Ah shit.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Alexa, play free bird by lynard skynard

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, redbullrocket, and 725,028 others

box_box_express oh thank goodness she's out

y/n.nation you think she jailbreaked?

georgerussell63 good to see that I don't need to pull up any power point presentations on why you four shouldn't go to jail

y/n.89 good to know that you have one ready? landonorris you think that we'd actually get arrested?? logansargeant oh yee of little faith oscarpiastri it was already ready???????

change_ur_f-car BAHAHAHAHAH I'M DEAD - ARRESTED RACE CAR DRIVERS FOR BEING IN A CAR

formulalala_delulu this whole race/day was a fever dream

christianhorner good to see you not in cuffs kid

y/n.89 good to not be in cuffs maxverstappen1 rookie arrest before I was y/n.89 HA I BEAT MAX VERSTAPPEN IN EQUAL MACHINERY landonorris oh that's not...ok

lestappenlove your honor I love them

Race Results

Max Verstappen - 25 points

Charles Leclerc - 18 points

Y/n L/n - 16 points (fastest lap)

Carlos Sainz - 12 points

Oscar Piastri - 10 points

Alex Albon - 8 points

Lando Norris - 6 points

Logan Sargeant - 4 points

Pierre Galsy - 2 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 1 point

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen - 334 points

Charles Leclerc - 304 points

Y/n L/n - 223 points

Lando Norris - 196 points

Carlos Sainz - 157 points

Oscar Piastri - 140 points

Lewis Hamilton - 113 points

Alex Albon - 70 points

George Russell - 65 points

Fernando Alonso - 45 points

Logan Sargeant - 44 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 26 points

Lance Stroll - 17 points

Pierre Gasly - 14 points

Valtteri Bottas - 13 points

Yuki Tusnuoda - 9 points

Zhou Guanyu - 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull - 557 points

Ferrari - 461 points

McLaren - 336 points

Mercedes - 178 points

Williams - 114 points

Aston Martin - 62 points

Alpha Tauri - 35 point

Alpha Romeo - 14 points

Alpine - 14 points

Haas - 0 points

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812 notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

the open road (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy 5.5k 🤪🤪 I’ve literally had this idea in my head for a WHILE so I am mf glad to have it out. Enjoy ;))

Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue

WC: ~2.8k

It started when you saw how Hotch drives when he’s in a hurry.

Your body flung against the car door despite your hold on the safety handle above you. Infuriated, you went to yell at Hotch to slow the fuck down, until you saw the look on his face, the way his hands gripped the wheel, the way his muscles flexed underneath his dress shirt.

Oh.

Oh, the thoughts you had were beyond inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. You were rushing to catch the unsub, and you were having unholy thoughts about your boss.

You quickly focused your eyes back on the road ahead, chanting cleansing thoughts to calm your mind down from whatever the hell that was.

It worked in the moment, but only just. What truly didn’t help matters was that you somehow always ended up riding shotgun with Hotch, no matter what. Sometimes with Rossi in the backseat, but most times it’s just you two.

Which makes it impossibly hard to hide your staring.

On this particular day, you and Hotch went to a prison about an hour away to interview a serial killer on death row. This sort of thing is routine, but you’ve never tagged along for them. It’s usually Reid or Prentiss, but for some reason, Hotch decided to take you.

It was a boring day, to say the least. Traffic getting there was awful. The checks to get into the prison and then to the specific area took forever. To make matters worse, the killer didn’t really want to talk. He wanted to play games.

Needless to say, you feel like it was a waste of time. But you can’t say that to your boss.

Instead, on the ride back to Quantico, you say, “That was enlightening.”

Hotch scoffs, then laughs. “It was a nightmare.”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say that.”

“It’s alright, you can say it.”

“Fine, it was boring as hell and a complete nightmare,” you blurt, glad to have gotten it off your chest.

Hotch laughs loudly this time. “You were holding that in.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hotch goes to reply, but stops himself when he has to slam on brakes. A sea of red taillights are ahead.

“That looks like a nightmare,” you groan, pulling up your GPS. “Two and a half hours to get home?”

“There must’ve been a wreck,” Hotch comments, angling his head to get a better look and that looks hotter than hell.

“We should probably get off at this exit,” you say. Thankfully, you’re in the far right lane, so exiting won’t be hard.

“Good plan,” he says, putting on the signal to get over to the ramp. “Can you navigate back to the BAU?”

“Sure,” you say. “Take a left up here.”

At first, the traffic is just as bad with everyone getting off at the same ramp to avoid the interstate, but soon it calms down.

You rant about the interview while navigating, not even realizing Hotch is replying to you until he compliments you.

“What?” you blink.

“I said you did good today,” he repeats. “You held yourself well. You should do more of these with me.”

“With you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t advise doing them alone.”

“Why not?”

“It’s better done in pairs,” he says, and that’s all he’ll elaborate.

So, you decide to tease him. “Sounds like you just want an excuse to spend more time with me.”

“I don’t need to make excuses to do that,” he replies smoothly, catching you off guard.

“Oh?”

“I chose you today on purpose,” he says. “Not as an excuse.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure what to make of that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. And the drive is silent after that.

+++

Now, you look forward to riding shotgun with Hotch.

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think those wildly inappropriate thoughts. And the more tame ones, which you’re able to voice, because he’s taken a liking to complimenting you, too.

“New haircut?” he says when you knock on his office door. He had barely glanced up at you from where he’s sitting, but one second was all he needed to see the difference.

“First one to notice,” you smile, stepping into his office.

“I just pay a lot of attention to you.” That’s enough to make you swoon, but he continues. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” you reply. You study him for a moment. “New tie?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, lifting the piece of fabric. “A birthday gift this morning from Dave.”

Your eyes widen. “Is today your birthday?”

Sheepishly, he nods.

“Aaron!” you scold, blowing right past the fact that you used his first name. “Why didn’t you say?”

“It’s not a big deal, and serial killers don’t care about birthdays,” he says, grabbing his briefcase. He stands and buttons his jacket. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” you mutter. “I’m mad that you scheduled this for your birthday.”

“Not for my birthday, it just happens to be on my birthday.”

“Same difference.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he gestures for you to go out the door. “Before we’re late.”

“We won’t be late,” you scoff.

“You just have to have the last word today, don’t you?”

You pause. Well. Those thoughts are definitely inappropriate, and you’re glad you stopped yourself from saying something you shouldn’t have. Especially with the rest of the team staring up at you and Hotch from their desks down in the bullpen.

They’ve been listening to your bickering for the past few minutes. They knew it was his birthday (courtesy of Reid), but they also know he isn’t a fan of huge celebrations.

Still, you’re upset about this, and Hotch has no idea why.

You bid the team goodbye as you and Hotch head out to the garage to pick up a BAU vehicle to take to the prison.

The drive there is smooth on the interstate. The interview is slightly less of a bore than the last few, but also not enlightening. Everything the killer said, you already knew.

Hotch decides not to take the interstate back to Quantico.

“It’ll only add half an hour,” he says. “I’m tired of seeing only interstate signs.”

“Suit yourself,” you say. Normally he can’t wait to get back to work.

You use this as the perfect time to corner him about his birthday, sure that he’ll regret his decision and get back on the interstate.

“How are you celebrating?” you ask.

“I’m not,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, we have work tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to be out late.”

“One drink won’t be late.”

“I’m old.”

You snort. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m 44.”

“Not old, I’d still go--” you stop yourself abruptly.

“You’d what?”

“Nothing,” you laugh. Shit shit shit. “You’re not old.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” you cry, laughing awkwardly.

“Y/N.”

“Nothing, Aaron.”

“You can tell me.”

You shake your head. “I definitely cannot.”

“Y/N.”

“Aaron.”

You stare at him and he stares back at you, intermittently looking away to watch the road, but it’s wide open. No one is around. And he’s better at staring than you are.

“Fine,” you grumble. “I’d still…I’d still go for you.”

“Go for me?”

“Yes, like, have sex with you— with a 44 year old because 44 isn’t that old— Please watch the road and stop looking at me.”

He grins, but he looks back at the road. One car passes. You’re mortified. You want to jump out of the window and roll into the ditch and stay there.

“Will you say something?” you blurt.

He laughs, and that makes you grimace. This is not how you pictured this conversation happening.

“Thank you. I think,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” you huff. “Even though I shouldn’t have said anything. That was inappropriate.”

“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he replies, and his hand does what it has done this entire trip -- and drives in the past. He gestures into your space on the passenger side, each time nearly connecting with your arm. This time, his fingers graze your skin.

“Okay…” you hesitate for a moment, keeping your arm on the console, not inching away from his touch.

He doesn’t move his hand, either, and it’s strange. His knuckles brush down your arm, over your wrist and to your fingers where he rests his hand over yours. You can feel his own hesitation, wondering how many lines this is crossing and how many rules are being broken.

“So, if I-- if someone my age,” he corrects himself, “asked you on a date, you would go for it?”

“Absolutely,” you reply a little too quickly.

“It seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I have,” you admit.

“Good to know,” he says, smirking. And that’s the end of it.

+++

It’s a slow progression, your relationship with Hotch. The many car rides together on the open road provide for perfect moments. Here, with no one around, the two of you can be affectionate without worry.

He holds your hand while he drives, occasionally bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. You play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles, the lines on his palm.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling bold, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh. The first time it happened, arousal paralyzed you. Now, it makes you want to climb in his lap.

He has to know what he’s doing.

He squeezes your thigh and you’re done for, squirming in your seat like it’s uncomfortable.

“What is wrong with you?” he asks.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“What?”

“You have your hand on my thigh and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No, you-- Let me just--” You move his hand, only so you can give him a taste of his own medicine. You place your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and his jaw tenses immediately. “See?”

“I see.”

You squeeze your hand, digging your fingertips in, and you see him swallow hard. “Want me to move my hand?” you ask playfully. You begin to take your hand away and he grabs your wrist, keeping your hand right where it is.

Oh?

He says nothing about it, so neither do you. The drive continues in silence, only the radio playing lowly.

After a while, you notice that not a single car has passed by. The two of you seem to be alone again on this road.

Your skin is burning with the anticipation of what you want to do. Your fingers twitch against his leg, wanting to move further up his thigh, but resisting.

He’ll tell you to stop. If it’s too much. You should just go for it.

So you do.

In a moment of reckless boldness, you stare straight ahead at the road and slowly creep your hand up his thigh.

You hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t stop you.

You trace slow circles on the fabric of his pants, each time inching closer and closer to where you want to be. His belt will be in the way, though. That’ll have to go first.

“You should tell me to stop,” you murmur, letting your fingers travel to his belt. You begin to tug on it, getting his attention. “Aaron?”

“Keep going,” he says, through a tight jaw. He glances over at you but then back at the road. His left hand tightens on the wheel.

He wore the belt that snaps, so you’re able to open it swiftly. Unbuttoning his pants, you tug the zipper down. He’s already hard, but not fully just yet. His restraint is unbelievable to you, but you know his body well enough now to get around it.

He adjusts his hips to give you better access, but accidentally revs the car when he does.

“Relax,” you chuckle. “You can’t run us off the road.”

“I won’t,” he says firmly.

You hum as you tease him some more, lightly touching him, smirking as he grows. Easy.

He’s uncomfortable, reaching down to move his underwear. If you weren’t so pleased with yourself, you would’ve swatted his hand away. But instead you let him do it, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around him.

“Your hands are always so cold,” he laughs, his voice deeper now.

“You’re always so warm,” you retort, stroking him gently. “Is there anyone around?”

He looks in the rearview and then shakes his head. “No.”

“Good,” you smirk, unbuckling your seatbelt. You lean over the console, glad that this model has such a flat design.

“Shit,” he cusses, realizing what you plan to do. He should’ve known better than to assume otherwise, honestly.

You take him into your mouth with a low hum, loving the way the muscles in his legs tense immediately. Only the tip rests on your tongue, yet you feel his heart rate beginning to pick up.

He talks a big game, acting nonchalant and cool, until your mouth is on him. He’s said before that he loses it all with you. There is no holding back.

Taking him deeper, you feel him hit the back of your throat sooner than expected, causing you to gag. This angle is different, and his hand reaches for your shoulder, a gentle touch, asking if you’re alright.

You suck him down again, better prepared now, and his hand tenses, lifting off your skin to not leave bruises, even though you’d like him to (but you haven’t told him that just yet).

To compromise, you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, looking up at him. He glances down in surprise, meets your eyes, and groans, letting out the sound he’s been holding inside.

His hand pushes on your head, the pressure igniting something inside of you. You adjust to get a better angle, pulling back to swirl your tongue over his head.

The car speeds up again, but he catches himself, not wanting you to stop. His hand remains at the back of your head, keeping you in place, as if you’d go anywhere anyway.

“I’m gonna have to pull over,” he mutters, barely getting the words out.

You shake your head and he groans loudly. Lifting up, you look at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His head hits the headrest and he sighs, chuckling deliriously. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You say that every time,” you tease.

He continues driving, determined now to not pull over. The thrill goes away if he isn’t driving.

Continuing as you were, you chase his release, desperate to hear him. You take him into your mouth fully again, swallowing with a contented hum.

You feel it when he begins to unravel, the way he twitches in your mouth, the way his abdomen tenses. He keeps your head pinned down, only lightly, but enough for you.

His climax is unexpected even for him, spilling down your throat without much more than a few seconds warning. He lifts his foot from the gas, willing his eyes to stay open enough to see the road.

You swallow it all, coaxing more from him, relishing in his little noises. If it weren’t for the console finally digging in a little too hard to your ribcage, you would stay.

You lift your head with a satisfied smile, squeaking in surprise when his hand on the back of your head pulls you into him for a kiss.

“The road!” you mumble through kisses, keeping an eye on it, even though it’s still empty.

“Fuck the fucking road,” he mutters, swerving to pull off to the side. He puts the car in park and pulls you back in.

“Aaron!” you laugh, letting him haul you into his lap.

“I can’t drive and do this,” he says, putting both hands on your face and smothering you in a kiss.

He grows harder underneath you, especially now that you’re sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against him.

“Thank god these windows are tinted,” you chuckle as he practically rips your pants off of your legs. You hear a seam rip and you give him a tired look. “Seriously?”

“I’ll buy you more,” he says, finishing the job and ripping them entirely. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Whore,” you snicker, but it’s broken off when he enters you in one swift movement.

“You were saying?” he whispers, smirking against your cheek. You can’t answer and he starts to grin, nipping at your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

+++

When the two of you return to Quantico two hours late, the team starts to wonder what is really going on.

Each time, your excuse is traffic, stopping to get food, gas, or all of the above. But this time, there is no hiding the obvious.

Meaning, the way Hotch has to come into the office to grab your go bag from your desk so you’ll have a pair of fucking pants to wear into the building.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

the world is brighter

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel is trying to be someone he’s not.

▹— a/n: so this is meant to be the reluctant daughter fic…. and it didn’t turn out exactly the way i planned :( not sure that i like it at all honestly, but i wanna put smth out for y’all and this is 13K words that i cba to rewrite so… love you.

▹— warnings: references to suicide attempt, familial loss, previous good relationship with (assumed) biological dad, blood, so much blood, murder (you kill someone), fighting, i think you could class this as dissociation/blackouts but i’m not sure (pls tell me if it’s something different), fighting, canon-typical violence, angst — please tell me if there’s more, ive been trying to keep up to date but i’ve written this fic over so many days. be mindful, this one might be kinda heavy.

▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours (if you’ve been tagged it’s because you requested to be on my general taglist! if you want your tag removed, drop me a message! <3)

masterlist

howl’s song associations!

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Living in Boston QZ hadn’t been your idea. No — you never would have chosen the so-called safety of the walls, which were only filled with bad people and worse authority, but you had been left with no other choice.

Pronounced an orphan on your way to the QZ, you didn’t know what else to do. With nobody to guide you or advise you, you had gone ahead with the original plan, walking the final twenty-something miles alone, in some sort of absent state.

The journey was a blur, and so was the arrival, you only really remember seeing the green flash of the cordyceps tester, reminding you of all you had lost. Every time you closed your eyes after that, the shade of green haunted you.

They had put you up in a FEDRA school, and so you began your training to become an officer. You hated it, hated the FEDRA organisation as a whole, and hated being in Boston when the person who had wanted to be there didn’t make it.

You tried not to make a habit of sneaking out after the first time, but you couldn’t help yourself. Most days, you were so exhausted from your nightly adventures through the QZ that you got everybody into doing more drills. Not many people were a big fan of you, but that was the way you preferred it.

You liked being alone, really. Enjoyed the silence that echoed through your room, the absence of other people letting you simmer in your own feelings. Your father had always reprimanded you for wallowing in your own self-pity, but he was no longer around to do such a thing. So, you wallowed.

Between climbing out of your bedroom window, jumping across rooftops to reach a particular apartment building with an actual view outside of the wall, you spent your time disconnected from the hellscape you lived in. Everything felt so far away, so out of touch, and the only moments you blinked back to reality, you were dripping in blood. Down your face, your hands, so much of it that you didn’t know where it started or ended. Or if it was your own.

Everything coming back into focus at once was dizzying enough, and sometimes that feeling was so closely related to blood loss that you had been sure somebody must’ve stabbed you, must’ve finally managed to get past your survival instincts, must’ve brought you to your end, at last.

But then you’d wake up, blood dried, no sign of the looming figure of death in front of you. There was only one occasion where the blood must’ve been mostly your own, and that was a broken nose. You pretended not to be disappointed, each and every time. Despite everything you had done to survive, everything you still do, there was a darker part of you that hated yourself for it. That blamed you.

It was one of those times yet again, where one moment you swore you were paying attention in your FEDRA classroom, and the next you blinked, eyes opening to the sight of bloodied hands in front of you.

It was everywhere, you would swear on it, underneath your fingernails, between each digit on your hand, even dripping down your wrist. It was warm and clung to your skin, even when you wiped your hands against the jeans on your legs. You blinked again, finally moving your eyes away from your sticky hands, and you gulped down a lump in your throat at the sight in front of you.

You recognised the man — a snarky guard at FEDRA, one who always had it out for you. You could see a slither of the face that always glared over at you underneath all of the red blood.

It didn’t take much realising to know that you wouldn’t get away with this thing, that this would be something that killed you. If they found out, if, then you were dead.

You needed to know, had to be sure, if this was going to be the final thing, your final action, if you had actually killed a FEDRA guard. But despite that, despite knowing that you didn’t have another option than to look if his chest was rising and falling, you couldn’t draw your eyes in the direction. Even when you tried, your chin fell to your chest, eyes back on the hands that were cradling one another in your lap, feeling far too heavy for your arms.

With the sharp way your breath was coming into your chest, you were starting to realise that your hearing hadn’t returned with your sight, and you jumped when the realisation brought it back, a rush of sound hitting you all at once.

The distant sound of gunfire, the whirring of a generator nearby, the sound of your own hyperventilating breaths, it all echoed too loudly, far too much going on for you to comprehend it all. So much so that you missed the footsteps heading your way, missed the sound of crunching stone as somebody else stepped foot on the rooftop.

A hand against your shoulder had you rearing around, fists drawn back and pushing forward until they hit the person, hard, and the hand was immediately withdrawn. You continued forward, eyes blinking closed in a flinch as the hand grabbed your wrists, holding tight until you stopped trying to pull them away.

“Jesus Christ— Tess, get on out here!” The voice belonging to the person holding on to you yelled out, about as loudly as he dared, and you bared your teeth with clenched fists at the woman who pulled herself up from the fire escape on the apartment building.

“Jesus,” She echoed, looking between you and the FEDRA agent with raised eyebrows, a slight grimace, marring her features. She looked over at the man who was grasping your wrists in a bruising grip with a questioning gaze. “What the fuck went on here?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You spat out, tugging your arms, trying to get out of the man’s grip as you grit your teeth, your mind still reeling with everything that was going on.

He stared sternly at you, “You gonna calm down?” When you responded with a more than angered nod, he nodded, releasing your wrists and stepping away, leaning to look at the FEDRA guard still lay at your side. He kicked the guy in the side, and there was no hint of a reaction. “Dead.” He told the woman, Tess, with an odd look on his face.

“Well, shit, kid.” Tess sighed, hands on her hips as she looked at the situation before her. She shook her head with a tut, and approached to have a look at the guard herself. “What happened?”

You just continued baring your teeth, metaphorical hackles raised high, and Tess just responded with a blank look on her face, a dismissive purse to her lips as she moved her gaze over to the man.

He tilted his head, looking between you and the body, “Could’ve been anyone.” He suggested to Tess, rocking his head from side to side in something like deliberation. You stared hard at the two of them, confusion still buzzing through your head.

“Could’ve been.” She agreed.

They shared a look, communicating between only their eyes, and they had no reaction to the way your hands clenched, your head snapping between them. You didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t understand what was going on, and you had no idea who these people were. It really didn't provide any reassurance, and your eyebrows lowered over your eyes, a glare prominent on your features as Tess huffed.

“C’mon, kid.” The man said to you, offering a hand to help you up from the ground. When you stared at him, that glare on your face, he raised his eyebrows in annoyance. “It’s either you come with us, or you’re found here with him and hung. Your choice.” He told you, hand still offered out, and you grit your teeth as you took it, letting him pull you to your feet, and steady you when you stumbled, everything feeling a bit too real.

You focused on where you were going, rather than who was leading you there, as the two of them took you down the fire escape, hurrying you into an open window on the second flight down from the top. You didn’t take any notice of the bloody handprint Tess wiped away after you had managed to get yourself through the gap, instead looking for the doors.

“You can calm down, kid, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” Tess said, sounding snarky as she moved past you to their kitchen, where she helped herself to a glass of illegal alcohol. You raised your eyebrows, knowing that wasn’t a FEDRA-supplied bottle.

You huffed, watching the man look around the area before he shut the window, flicking the lock into place. “Can never be too careful.” You murmured in response.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Tess said, somewhat amused. “I mean if anybody here’s showed some aggression, that’d be you. Gonna tell us what went on up there?” She asked between careful sips from her glass, measured, or maybe, savouring sips.

At her question, your eyebrows furrowed once more, and you pulled your bloodied hands close to your chest, jaw clenched.

“No?” She asked, leaning forward with an expectant expression, and she opened her mouth to ask some more questions, say something else, but the man cut her off.

“Tess,” He warned, eyebrows raised, “Take it easy.” He glanced back to you, to the hands you held close to yourself, and frowned. With a nod of his head, clearly expecting you to follow, he headed down the hallway. You looked at Tess, hesitantly following the man as she nodded with an exasperated scoff.

He opened a door, revealing their bathroom, which had certainly seen better days. You wouldn’t exactly cheer for the bathrooms at FEDRA school, but jesus — at least it was better than what the general public got. “Head on in, clean yourself up. Don’t want anybody seein’ that on you.”

With some reluctance, you kept a hostile expression plastered on your face as you stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the tap in the sink and running your hands under it. Up until that point, you had remained ignorant to the way the blood clung to your skin, sticky and not quite cold, but now there was the opportunity to be rid of it, you became desperate.

The water helped, slightly, but not fast enough for your liking, resorting to the scraping of your dull nails against the drying blood, up until flakes of red started to melt away, colouring the water as it drained.

Their mirror was broken, and you couldn’t have been more glad. You were sure that if it had been there when you glanced up, if you had to look yourself in the face, you would be sick. You didn’t want to face the fact that all of this was real. You had just killed a FEDRA guard.

“Alright, that’s enough of that, now.” The man said, reaching into the sink and pulling your hands away from the stream of water when you ignored him. He shut the tap off, staring at you with that same strange expression, only glancing away to grab the towel that hung over the door. You took it, drying your hands hastily before you shoved it back towards him.

You were shoving past him before he could get another word out, barely even able to grab the towel as you passed it back. He blinked, a frown forming a deeper crease than usual between his brows.

“Listen, I—I really need to get back. Curfew is going to be over soon, I think.” You fumbled around the words, hurrying down the hallway you came from and spinning around in the room to try and reorient yourself. You finally saw the door you believed to be the exit, and headed towards it.

“Well, hold up,” Tess said, frowning and reaching out to you, stepping back with a slight scoff when you moved away from the reaching arms. “Daylight’s gonna break any second, you’d be better off waiting for curfew to be over with. And,” She added, tilting her head at you with a stern look, “You still haven’t told us what went on. We’re covering your ass, right now. If anything goes to shit it’ll be us keeping you safe. You realise that?”

You did realise something — and that was the kind of people you were dealing with. You’d heard from them, and not from the FEDRA teachers, but from other trainees, other students.

When the world went up in flames, FEDRA had been the first to seize onto power, and they held on to the pretence that they had never let go. But the world was still burning, and the people had begun rioting, and there was another opportunity for a power-grab. It was people like this who had taken that opportunity, who had made something of themselves in a world on fire.

You knew then that the way she had likely gotten that bottle of alcohol was through her own network. She was a manipulator, clearly, a blackmailer. She used the resources she had, and she definitely made the most of them. She wasn’t bluffing.

“So, what? I don’t tell you and you sell me out?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. Part of you wants to hear her say it, though, wants to hear the admission of being a bad person. Then again, maybe she was the good guy, you thought, after remembering the blurry image of that guard, lay still on the roof above where you stood.

Tess tilted her head, “Pretty much.”

“Well, fine. Be my guest. As much as I would love to comply with your blackmail, I couldn’t tell you. Don’t have a fucking clue what happened up there. I’d say try asking him, but…” You snarked in response, another bare of your teeth, another raising of your hackles. Tess was looking more frustrated by the moment, if the slight twitch of the skin of her brows said anything. She held herself together pretty well. If it weren’t for the stark difference between times like now and the times of blacked out memories, blurred images, you likely wouldn’t have even noticed. But it was like everything was so clear when you actually looked, and you noticed details that most people wouldn’t.

“Joel,” Tess sighed out, and even the cadence of her voice revealed the annoyance that was growing within her. “Help me out, here?” She asked, because despite every front that the man put up, he was still better with kids than she was. There was something about him, an authority, she wondered, that just made people fess up.

You looked over to the man, to Joel, to see his eyes looking at you with more recognition by the second, a pull to the frown on his lips that suggested he knew something that you didn’t. You weren’t a fan of the look.

He gritted his teeth at the whole situation, his chest aching with familiarity. Joel knew, probably better than anyone, that look in your eye. “I believe her,” Joel answered Tess, hesitantly, rolling his eyes when the two of you immediately looked at him with dumbfounded expressions. “Look, Tess is right. You’re better off sticking ‘round here ‘til curfew drops.” He told you then, his voice gruff as he leaned to look out of the window, seeing the light outside growing brighter each passing minute.

You huffed, but crossed your arms in defeat, shoulders slouching where you stood.

“But remember, you owe us.” Tess said scathingly, a crease running along her forehead before she turned away, heading down the hallway. She pretended that she didn’t hear the way you scoffed at her words.

You and Joel stood opposite each other, the room tense. He cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms so the two of you didn’t mirror each other quite so accurately, and he turned to grab his own glass of booze. “So, uh, you go to school? FEDRA?” He asked, talking over the sound of liquid being poured into his glass.

“Yeah.” You responded lamely, tapping a foot against the floorboards of their apartment, avoiding looking at the man.

“You know the guy, then?” He questioned, eyebrows raised as he turned back around to look at you.

The look you gave him was scathing, but you gritted your teeth and responded anyway, seeing no other choice. “I guess. Gives me— gave me a hard time for dumb things. Don’t know what happened last night, before you ask.” You said, correcting your words to the past tense, and your chest felt hauntingly empty, despite what you had done.

Joel shrugged at you, “Wasn’t goin’ to.” He responded, mouth set in a thin line before he took a long sip from his drink. “Get some rest, kid. Got an hour or so, yet.” He told you, seeing your exhaustion before you had even felt it, apparently.

You blinked at him, surprised. The idea was tempting, you could admit, but it didn’t feel like a good idea to go to sleep around two strangers. At any moment, they could have a change of heart. It was best to stay on guard, to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. That was the way you always played these type of things, and it worked out.

He drained his glass, shrugging at you when you didn’t move to head towards the sofa he had vaguely gestured at, and said, “Suit yourself.” Before he walked down the hallway, following Tess.

You waited there for more than a few minutes, so still, making sure you didn’t make a sound, waiting to hear when one of them would come back to keep an eye on you. You had never felt more confused when they didn’t.

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Ever since then, the world seemed to blur around you even more. And despite getting out in the hold at school after getting caught trying to sneak back in, it didn’t deter you, and they didn’t seem to suspect you of anything. You had heard the whispers about the dead FEDRA guard, though.

You tried not to listen.

Instead, you spent even more of your time sneaking out, but allowed that haze to fall over you with even less of a fight each time you went out. It was easier, that way, to let the world fall away and leave you with memories smudged in blood, that you certainly didn’t remember acquiring. Nothing in them was clear, and the cycle of waking up covered in blood didn’t stop.

More often than not, though, it was beginning to be your own blood. Apparently, your hazed self had become terrible at picking the battles you fought, and you’d blinked back to reality more than once when sparring at school, the jolt of pain when somebody caught an injury bringing you back faster than anything else had.

When you blinked back into reality this time, however, it was with warm blood dripping down your face, a hand gripping onto your head and keeping it upright when it began to fall to one side. You didn’t expect to see a familiar face, that was for sure.

��Joel?” You asked, incredulous, your voice slurred as you spoke through blood in your teeth.

“Well, she’s alive.” He said, not to you, barely even acknowledging your questioning tone as he glanced behind him to somebody you couldn’t see. Tess, presumably. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, kid?” He grumbled, voice gruff as he looked over your head for injuries, a grimace on his face at the amount of blood dripping down your temple.

His hand left your head a moment later, and you just about caught the weight of it before your chin could hit your chest, leaning back and settling the crown of your head against what felt like a brick wall.

A hand against your shoulder caught your attention when your eyes had been drifting closed, without you knowing they had even begun to do so, and you blinked them back open. “Jesus, how many times are we gonna have to save your ass?” Tess asked rhetorically, a grimace that matched Joel’s on her face as she looked at the state of you.

“‘M fine.” You grumbled, moving to try and push her hand away but only pulling your hand back with a hiss at the sudden throbbing pain that bloomed in your fingers.

Tess smiled sarcastically, “Yeah, sure you are. Those are broken, by the way.” She said, nodding down to the fingers on your hand which were bloodied and bruised, swollen and now so painful you had to grind your teeth together. Your knuckles were split, and you looked around, seeing no sign of a body, but you couldn’t help wondering what the other guy must look like.

You didn’t say anything else to her, just focusing on keeping your eyes open and attempting to remember whatever had happened to lead you to such a state. Nothing came up.

Even when Joel lifted your arm, hand gripping your wrist tightly as he pulled your elbow around his neck until he was holding most of your weight. He stumbled slightly when you did, and let out a gruff comment about you handling some of your own weight.

You did your best, but he ended up practically carrying you all the way back to their apartment, which was a couple of blocks. You vaguely wondered how they had even come across you, but figured you were in no place to ask questions.

“Remember what happened this time?” Tess asked, opening the door to their shared apartment so Joel could pull you through it, his arms straining to keep you upright. It was a much harder task when you were conscious but barely in control of your own limbs. He had thought about carrying you, but decided that was much too strange.

You shook your head, but realised she was facing away from you, and you hoped Joel hadn’t noticed your mistake. “Not a fucking clue.” You slurred out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as it tried to spell out the words.

Joel huffed out a breath through his nose as he set you down against their couch, his shoulders slouching as he finally relaxed his muscles, feeling a distant ache in his arm from being so tensed. He went down the hallway a second later, disappearing from your view.

“You are one lucky kid.” Tess drawled, the scene so familiar to the first time you met the two of them, as she held a glass of alcohol loosely in her hand. Distantly, you wondered if they had a glass every day, and if that meant they had shitloads of the stuff stored away somewhere, but decided you probably shouldn’t be thinking about it.

You scoffed, brows furrowed in aggravation despite the fact they had probably saved your lives. “Yeah, lucky. Sure.” You said, likely the clearest you had been able to speak since you’d woken up. Or become aware. You weren’t really sure which was more accurate.

Tess smiled, a sarcastic one that was full of humour and annoyance, “Oh, you don’t think so? Should we think about what could’ve happened if somebody else had found you there?” She asked, eyebrows raised, and you grit your teeth to stay silent.

You, better than anyone, knew what could’ve happened. You knew what people in this QZ — hell, in this world, — were capable of. So maybe you were lucky that Joel and Tess had found you, considering that they hadn’t ratted you in to FEDRA just yet, but you knew that the one thing this world would never generate is trust. They could be just as bad, or worse, as anyone else who might have discovered you there, bloody, injured, and completely unaware.

After all, you were at their apartment, with no idea why.

“She knows, Tess,” Joel grumbled, reappearing from the hallway and looking just as unhappy as ever. He sighed, drawn out and heavier than you had expected, and held up a wet cloth. “Come on, kid, get yourself cleaned up.” He handed it over to you, and ushered Tess to follow him back down the hallway, where they spoke in harshly whispered voices.

You wiped the side of your face, getting rid of the sticky blood that was coming from the side of your head. It was kind of difficult to do with no mirror, but you wiped as much of it off as you could get to before you stopped, breathing through the pain in your head, your fingers, the left side of your chest. You grimaced as you tried to wipe blood away from your split knuckles, your broken fingers. It hurt, and it was too real of a pain.

You paused when you heard Tess’s voice raise, “She’s going to get us caught, or killed, Joel!” She said, before her tone lowered once more, further discussion happening between them. You wondered what they could be talking about — they held no obligation to pick you up off of the streets. They didn’t owe you anything. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t owe them anything, either. Everything they had done was of their own volition, meaning you hadn’t forced them into anything.

For whatever reason, they felt the need to help you. You couldn’t pretend to understand it, but you did know that this couch was much more comfortable than the stones of whatever street you had been lay on were.

Joel came down the hall soon enough, a crease between his brows, and he grunted when he saw the poor job you had done of cleaning yourself up. “Get to the bathroom, kid. We’ll patch you up there.”

“Why?” You asked, before you could help yourself. They didn’t need to be doing this, so why were they? Tess was right, you were only a danger to whatever operation they had going on, so why?

“It’s either that or you carry on bleeding out on our couch.” Tess called out, rustling through something as soon as she emerged from the hallway, busying herself in drawers and cupboards.

You figured it’d be in your best interest to not bleed out on their couch.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Weirdly, it was the fourth time you ran into Joel and Tess that everything seemed to fall into place. Except this time, it was you doing just that, running into them. Or more accurately, him.

You had hit against shoulders in your fast pace, sending various people tumbling backwards or stepping out of your path. Helpful for you, yes, but also helpful for the group chasing you. You tried not to look back, but the footsteps chasing you were growing louder and you had to know how close they were.

One look over your shoulder led to you colliding with somebody, and you cursed as it sent you spilling to the floor at their side. With a scathing glare on your face, your heart going a mile a minute, you looked up to see none other than Joel fucking Miller.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” Joel murmured, eyes wide as he looked to where you had fallen after running into him. The alarm in your eyes made him move to face where you were looking, and there were three of Robert’s goons. He noticed, quickly, the knife that one of them was holding.

Without a second thought, he stepped between you and the group approaching, his hands clenching into fists as he grit his teeth. He wasn’t good at negotiating, at talking — that was more of Tess’s side of the deal. If it came to it, though, he could take on these fools. And he could play it off as if he was defending himself from the knife they were carrying, if need be.

They sputtered to a stop in front of him, a wary look exchanged between the two men, as the woman behind glared daggers at him. “Come on, Miller, move outta the way.” The man holding the knife said, tilting his head to one side as if that was going to make Joel listen to his directions.

Joel’s eyebrows set lower on his face as he looked back to you, with your wide eyes, and the way you scrambled up to stand just behind him. He huffed, a tired sigh leaving him, and turned back to the goons.

“Not happening.”

The three of them scoffed, incredulous, and the woman stepped forward with a sneer on her face. “What? You some kinda saviour now, Miller? Gonna start defending all the helpless little girls?” She said, voice venomous, but she stepped back when Joel went to move forward.

You, however, were not having that.

“Helpless?” You questioned, a scathing heat burning its way down your throat, “I’d like to see you go and ask your boss how helpless I am.”

Joel’s hand blocking your path stopped you from stepping towards the woman, your teeth bared at her, but you remained behind the man. You may not like listening to him, but he seemed to know what he was doing far more than you did.

“You bitch,” The final man said, no weapon held in his hand, but there was something dark about him that even Joel could see. Joel pushed against you, putting you further behind him as the man stepped forward. “When I—”

Joel’s eyes darkened considerably, and he knew from the expressions on the group’s faces that they had seen his face harden. “When you what?” He asked, looking down at the group before him, something violent in his words, as if daring the man to finish his sentence, to say something that Joel didn’t like, to give him the excuse.

“Can’t you just mind your own goddamn business, Miller?” The one with the knife asked, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl as he tried to catch a good look at you from around Joel’s shoulder.

“This is my goddamn business. Now run yourselves back to Robert before this gets out of hand.” Joel said, the threat in his words clear despite him having said nothing particularly violent. It was explicit in his tone, apparently. His gruff words were somewhat of a comfort to you, though, a slight relief that you could stop running, for now. You were also hoping that this meant your messed up shoulder would be your only injury of the day.

“Are you having a fucking laugh?” The woman asked, incredulous, as she stared at where Joel stood tall in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Joel asked, being met with nothing but deadly silence. You peeked around his arm to see the three of them looking like fools in front of him, their cocky, entitled attitudes falling apart under the weight of his words. The three of them shared a glance, gritted teeth and angered glares, and looked to Joel with a more than annoyed expression.

The man with no weapon caught sight of you looking around Joel, and pointed his hand at you, “Just you fucking wait.” He threatened, putting his hand down when Joel’s shoulders straightened, his legs moving to take a step towards the man, who quickly backed away alongside his two companions. They left without another word, throwing angry looks over their shoulders until they disappeared out of sight, at which point Joel turned to you.

“How is it that I always find myself savin’ your ass?” Joel asked, mostly to himself, as he looked at where you stood, a hand holding your other and close to your chest. He sighed, heavily, “You hurt?”

“I’ve been worse.” You admitted, though Joel knew better than anyone. He could see on your face that the swelling from around your black eye hadn’t long faded to almost normal, he could see the stitched cut along the back of your forearm, could see the way you winced as you attempted to shrug, give up halfway.

Joel nodded, studying you for a moment, his eyes drawn to the way your clothes had been ripped after your fall to the ground. He frowned. It was getting colder as the days went on, and he was already sceptical about the lack of layers you wore. He huffed out another sigh, a frown pinched between his eyebrows, and looked back down the street to ensure the goons hadn’t decided to come back. When the coast was clear, he turned back to you where you stood almost nervously, and he realised this was the first time he had seen you out during the day time. Every other time he had discovered you it had been the midst of the night.

“C’mon, let’s get back.” He murmured, keeping the mean look on his face in case anybody else came after you. For once, you didn’t say anything, just following along at Joel’s side, wincing every time you moved your arm.

“I remember what happened this time,” You offered, when the two of you finally reached Joel and Tess’s shared apartment, with you taking your seat on their couch with a half-repressed sigh. Your feet were aching, and your shoulder was killing, but at least you could rest here for a while.

Joel looked up from his rummaging at that, surprised by not only what you said, but the fact that you had said it at all. Each time, one of them prompted you for information, and you never remembered. Or you weren’t willing to share the small details you did recall. It was strange for you to offer such information to him. “Yeah?” He prompted absently, continuing to look through drawers after his slight pause.

“Yeah,” You answered as you raised an eyebrow at his actions, wondering what he could be searching for. Before you could lose your nerve, you continued, “Got into some stupid business with some guy called Robert, and then he tried to rip me off. I got kicked outta school trying to get what he needed, too.” You scoffed as you spoke, paying less attention to Joel’s reaction and focusing more on your annoyance at the whole situation. “I just… got angry, started hittin’ the guy. Then ran away, and they started chasing me.”

“What were you goin’ into business with him for?” Joel asked after you had finished, his eyebrows creased together. Robert had a way of getting to old world stuff, but everyone knew he was dodgy. Often times, it was double-sold, or broken. He was a scammer, and that was coming from Joel, who had upped prices to ridiculous amounts on the shit he and Tess smuggled in, per her order, of course.

You huffed, “I dunno, just wanted something. Doesn’t matter, anyway. He didn’t have it.”

“Well, you tell me what it is and I’ll see what I can do.” Joel offered, unsure as to why. He hated himself for doing this, for letting you in, for feeling some inexplicable reason to help you each time you were hurt. He couldn’t understand it. Perhaps, he could say you reminded him of someone who’s name he refused to speak, but that wasn’t right. You shared very few similarities with her, in fact, Joel would argue that you looked more like him. That lost look in your eyes, the blurred vision you saw through when he found you covered in blood, the memories lost to bloodshed… it was like looking in a mirror.

He felt some sort of responsibility towards you — as if helping you could heal his own wounds. Joel figured he should’ve known by now that something like that would never work.

Perhaps, he just wished that someone could’ve pulled him out of that state, when he was in it. He couldn’t say your reasons for being like this, hell, it could just be a product of the apocalyptic world you lived in, but he figured that one day, you’d grow to be like him. And god, he was hoping that you could avoid it. So if him helping you could do that, could steer your path away from seeing him in your reflection, he’d do it.

“I said it didn’t matter.” You responded, snappily. Clearly whatever you had been after was personal, held close to your chest. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting to reveal it.

Joel said nothing for a moment, but looked at you from where he stood across the room. “You got kicked outta school?” He asked, instead of pressing the subject. He saw a weight lift off of your shoulder at the change in topic.

“Yeah, got caught sneaking out too many times. Said I must have some place else to go, and that I’m old enough to know what the fuck I’m doing.” You said, rolling your eyes at the memory. You weren’t all too bothered about it. Learning about the world through a government’s perception wasn’t all that mind blowing, and you hated drills. You didn’t want to be a FEDRA soldier. So, in reality, it was quite the gift.

You had to think that way, too stubborn to remember how your father had always talked about you going to those kind of schools, about you getting an education that was more than him just pointing out words and teaching you basic math. He had never quite understood that you learned more from him than you would from anybody else.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched, a look that was almost concern shining through his eyes. “You’re just a kid.” He said, having no reaction to the way you glared at him.

“I can take care of myself.” You told him, firmly, trying your best not to think about how many times he and Tess had pulled you out of shit, likely saving your life. It didn’t matter. At the end of the day, all you had was yourself.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, eyebrows raised at you, as if he was proving his point by asking it, especially when you didn’t answer immediately. All orphans went to FEDRA school, until they were old enough to get sent to a position as a guard or they were kicked back out to the street. He knew you weren’t old enough to be put in that position just yet. After all, FEDRA didn’t allocate housing to people of your age.

You looked to your hand in your lap, picking at the blood still stuck underneath your nails. “Not important.”

“No?” Joel asked, just a hint away from mockingly. You furrowed your brows at him, a frown pulling at your lips in defence.

“No.” You answered.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You think now, that you would have never been in this situation if you hadn’t accepted Joel’s insistence that you stay with him and Tess. It had gotten to a point of normalcy, something so close to domestic that it had you sneaking out of their apartment, up the fire escape back to the roof where it all began to unravel, all those nights ago.

The stain of blood on the ground is still there, and you had been staring at it long enough that you were starting to miss where it began and ended. You still couldn’t pull the memories from that night from your skull, and you were starting to think they weren’t in there at all.

It had all led you to here, to where you sat, legs swinging over the edge of the air-conditioning unit on the roof of the building. Or at least, that’s what Joel told you these things were. You frowned at the memory.

You hated the way you had let all of this happen, had let yourself get closer to the people who seemed to always be there. They were more present in your life than any other figure, even before you moved in with them. It had seemed as if you only woke up from your haze when they pulled you out of it. You couldn’t begin to understand why, and honestly, you didn’t really want to.

All you knew was that this was exhausting. You had been present for the longest time you could remember since before your father had… well, since before everything changed. And it was all because there was a ball of anxiety in your chest, hammering loudly within the beat of your heart.

Maybe it was selfish, or foolish, maybe it was both, to feel so dejected over something that should be good. But it was all feeling too familial for your liking, and it was like a constant waiting game, constantly wondering when the other shoe would drop. There had to be some sort of catch, something would surely go wrong, because life with Joel and Tess was becoming too comfortable. You should’ve been happy for it. Perhaps any other kid your age would have been, but all you could think of was the time before Boston.

Images of a house, a father who cared about you, who bought you paints and brushes even when that would have been better spent on new boots for himself. You could remember the way the sole had been peeling away when you had last seen him, remember the way he had yelled at you, begged you to leave him behind.

Sure, you had listened, had walked away from him slumped against the wall of a decrepit convenience store, but you had never truly left him behind. All the times you had spent in Boston, in a subconscious state, there had been no more memories. Before Tess and Joel, the most vivid thing you could recall was your dad.

If you closed your eyes, shut out the image of the blood staining concrete, and focused hard enough, you could hear his laugh. Reluctant laughter was something you had often drawn out of him, because he found the only joy he had left in the world within you. But there was always that nagging worry, at the very back of his mind, reminding him that things weren’t okay.

Hell, the whole reason he had insisted upon leaving the house where you had spent most of your life was because he believed you would be safer in Boston, in a QZ rather than a small community with not enough firepower to cope with any hordes.

He’d been a firm man, with a furrow between his brows that you could now see in Joel’s face, and you hated it. Your dad had given up everything for you. Why were you seeing similarities between him and Joel?

“Come on, it’s time to get going!” Tess called to you, dragging you from where you were trying to conjure up an image of your dad that wasn’t his last moments. You huffed, pushing off of the air conditioning unit, and headed down the fire escape, taking your backpack from Tess where she held it out to you.

It hadn’t been your choice to go along with Joel and Tess, more of an order, given that they didn’t want to leave you alone at their apartment. They were running low on ration cards, not enough for you to survive alone, especially if anything went wrong. That was the whole purpose of their trip, they had told you, to get something they could trade for more cards. The two of them hadn’t explained to you the radio and music catalogue that sat in their apartment, but you had figured out that it must’ve been some sort of communication system. If you were going to go off of the way Joel’s head had snapped up when some song you didn’t recognise came on.

The three of you were setting off the next day, so it must’ve meant something to them.

Joel had said something about you being in for some kind of treat, assuring you that the trip would be worth it, despite the way you remained unconvinced. You didn't want to leave the QZ again, but part of you, that stupid childish part, was curious.

So you followed them.

You were quiet most of the trip, despite Joel trying to encourage conversation with you, a crease of concern to his face the more checked out you became.

In your own defence, you seemed to be on guard well enough when you retreated to that state where it wasn’t really you, and the whole trip was too familiar. If you didn’t focus hard enough on your surroundings, you would wake up and be with your father again, or you’d lack attention and hear that gunshot as you walked away.

It was easier this way. Safer.

You also didn’t expect for Joel or Tess to notice anything different, but then you were blinking back into reality some time later, though you couldn’t tell how much. Joel’s face was in front of your own, his eyebrows furrowed, expression angrier than you had seen it in a while.

Looking around the area, over Joel’s shoulder, you saw a burning building some ways behind him, and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “What happened there?” You asked, your throat sore as you said it, your chest aching, and you were more confused than anything else at the sensation.

“What were you thinking?” Joel seethed, seemingly becoming angrier at your question, and you tried not to pay the emotion any mind. You looked around again, squinting your eyes and catching sight of Tess stood before the building, her gun raised to the doorway as if expecting something to come out of the blaze. “Huh?” He questioned, drawing your attention back.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, getting more confused by the second. You looked down to where your fingers were apparently covered in soot, and slowly connected that with the burning building across the way. “Wait, did I—”

“You can’t check out like that! You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Joel said, and you felt his hand squeeze your shoulder far more gently than the way he was speaking. He seemed… frantic, almost. You frowned, because nobody had ever really noticed you blanking out before, or at least, nobody had ever said anything to you about it.

Your awareness came back to you fully then, and you could feel the heat from the fire even all the way over here, so you couldn’t imagine the heat Tess was feeling. With a huffed breath, you pulled yourself to your feet, shrugging Joel’s hand off when he tried to help you as you stumbled slightly. Your bag felt lighter than it had before, but at least you still had it.

Joel grumbled, his hard expression unchanging as he turned away from you to go and grab Tess, nodding at you to follow them as you hurried away from the burning building, blinking as you tried to remember what had happened.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Arriving at Bill and Frank’s compound was… overwhelming. Which was probably the biggest understatement ever.

Tess and Joel didn’t think it pertinent to tell you where you were headed before leaving Boston, and you weren’t all that well versed in where smugglers got their items to smuggle. You figured it would be some run down place, that was mostly untouched by the outbreak.

You didn’t expect this.

Initially, it reminded you of the small community you had lived in with your father, all that time ago. Though this place was guarded much better, with that electric fence that Joel warned you away from. The houses looked good, and there was one down the street, with a wide porch and old kids toys piled in the garden, which made your heart clench.

You wanted to retreat back into yourself, to hide in that haze, to let the blanket of emptiness cover you, but then Frank was emerging from the doorway of their house, his grip tight on a walking stick, but his smile was wide. He was tailed by Bill, whose hands hovered hesitantly as he followed Frank.

“Tess! Joel!” Frank called, and held his arms out for Tess when she approached, sharing a hug like they were family. You were pretty sure that they were just friends, had no connection before the outbreak. It was strange, really, to think of hugging someone that wasn’t a relation. Or perhaps it was the caring part of it that had your brows creased. “And who’s this?” He asked, smiling at you.

With a nod from Joel, you introduced yourself to the man, trying not to shrink into yourself at his cheerful demeanour, and the suspicious glances of Bill from beside him.

“Bill, it’s fine,” Frank sighed, a roll of his eyes as he turned to the man. “Go get started on dinner! We’re going to sit out here, while the weather is nice.”

Bill grumbled, eyes darting between the three of you and the man he loved, but he turned with a resigned sigh. Frank grinned, a fond look on his face.

Tess busied herself setting the table, ignoring the way Frank scolded her for doing his job, only shooting him an exasperated smile. After a moment, Frank realised there were only four chairs set around the small garden table.

“Oh, I think there’s another in my art room.” He said, as he looked between you and the four chairs.

Unable to help yourself, “You have an art room?” You asked, which was probably the most you had spoken for the past few days. You ignored the way Joel seemed to perk up at your words, a glance going between him and Tess.

Frank smiled. He seemed to do a lot of that. “You wanna have a look?” He asked kindly, nodding his head and starting towards the house.

“Go on.” Joel encouraged with his monotone murmur. You hesitantly followed Frank into the house.

You didn’t look around much, instead opting to focus on keeping close to the man in front of you. If you looked to closely, you think you might see similarities to the home you had with your dad, and after already shutting down once on this journey, you figured that Joel wouldn’t be too pleased if you did it again.

It was wracking your nerves, the closer you got to Frank’s art room. You wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, not even your father, had he been here, but you were scared. You had gotten so good at removing yourself from a multitude of situations, but the concept of art had you grounded in place no matter how much you might have wanted to fade back into your mind. You can remember nights spent staying up late, dipping brushes in colours that resembled the world around you almost too accurately. The gentle swipe of paint across paper, canvas, walls, wood — whatever your father could give you, at the time.

It was the best thing you had.

You realise, now, that you had been escaping from the world for your whole life. Only back then, it had been to nicer lands, beauty put down on different mediums so you could physically touch it, could know it was true, it was real. The only thing that had changed was your method of escaping, really. Where you had once clambered for colours and depictions of the world in a different light, you now escaped to the very depths of your mind, hidden deep under sadness and fear and loneliness. Somewhere that you couldn’t be disturbed, wouldn’t have to think about the world and what it had taken from you.

You’re scared of wanting that old method of escape back.

When you enter the art room, you know your fear is valid. You know that the longing you have for paints and pencils and whatever supplies your father could get his hands on was back, or perhaps it was just the longing for your father returning full force from where you had buried it. Whatever it might have been, it was overwhelming.

It made everything feel like it meant more. Like the careful brushes of meticulously selected colours on white canvases was personal to you.

Frank’s art was covering the entire room, a stack of empty canvases in one corner, dwarfed by the amount of wooden frames that had sketched or painted pictures stretched over them. It was bright in here, the colours seemingly glowing from the light that was shining through the large windows, looking out on parts of the garden.

“This one isn’t finished,” Frank said, his voice quiet, and you looked to where you had forgotten he was standing. He leant heavily on his walking stick, gesturing with his free hand toward a canvas stood upon an easel — the first easel you had seen. When your dad first encouraged your interest in art, he had told you all about what his time in art class at school had been like. He’d told you about the easels, the shitty school paints — which were heavenly compared to what yours had been like — and his own art teacher. But easels weren’t the most common thing, and so you had never used one.

The painting that stood upon the strange-looking three legged stand looked like the beginnings of Bill’s face, blue eyes surrounded by carefully mixed colours to bring about the contours of the man’s skin. It was much better than anything you had ever painted.

“Have you ever painted?” Frank asked, after a few moments of hesitation. He’d lived in the apocalyptic world, too, but he hadn’t grown up in it. The man had more awareness than you expected, given his presence in such a protected home, but you supposed that if he knew Tess and Joel, it made sense that he would be sensitive of the world’s horrors.

You looked at the paintbrushes set out to dry beside an open window, and quickly drew your gaze away. “Yeah,” You responded, voice uncharacteristically gentle. You cleared your throat, annoyed at your own involuntary vulnerability. “My dad used to get paints, before I got to Boston.”

If Frank noticed your choice of pronoun ‘I’ and not ‘we’, he didn’t comment on it. He let your words settle for a moment, and you realised this was probably the most open you had been, the most you had spoken of your life before Boston. It was almost… sad. You think your dad would’ve loved Bill and Frank’s home, and the knowledge that nobody else would ever be able to consider what he would like was a painful admission.

“Well, I’m sure you could take some back with you.” Frank offered, a gentle smile on his face. He seemed to know more than he let on, even when your words were limited and he didn’t know you, hadn’t even met you before today.

You tried to brush your discomfort away, tried to unwind the stiffness to your shoulders. “That’s okay.” You said, fiddling with a button on your jacket as you took one more glance around the room, an uncomfortable tightening in your throat. “We’d better get back.” You prompted, walking to the chair in front of the easel and picking it up, gesturing for Frank to lead the way back to the garden.

“You alright?” Joel asked quietly as you set the chair down by his side, taking a seat in it a moment after as Frank and Tess began chatting away.

“I’m fine.” You snapped.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was on the way back from Bill and Frank’s that everything seemed to go wrong. For this portion of the journey, you made sure to cling on to every slither of awareness you had, digging your claws into consciousness and not letting go. You wouldn’t admit it, but the whole situation on the way there had shaken you.

You supposed it was different to the way blanking out in the QZ had been. After all, there was a certain amount of control in the QZ, much less of a wild factor than there was in the outside world. You could anticipate everything that you might come into contact with at the QZ, and each time, nothing was scary enough for you to even consider holding on to consciousness. Out in the real world, that was very different.

Despite travelling in it to the Quarantine Zone, there wasn’t a whole lot of that you could remember after the incident with your father. Everything was unpredictable, out here, and you were foolish to forget that. Especially after what it cost you the first time.

There may have been something else, though, something that had your fingers grasping onto reality so tightly you didn’t think you would ever let go. And that was the fact that it wasn’t just yourself that you were putting in danger, anymore, but Tess and Joel, too. And would you ever be able to forgive yourself if you came to awareness, just to see their blood on your hands? To find their bodies lay still? To be at fault once again for killing the only people left in the world that would see you safe? You could pretty confidently say no, you would never be able to forgive such a thing.

Even with your best attempts to cling on to your own awareness, it was clear that Joel and Tess didn’t quite trust your efforts. Given the fact that they refused to let you take a watch when night fell early, stopping to wait the darkness out just over halfway back to the Zone. Tess had already taken first watch, shaking Joel awake despite your offer to watch the area for him, so it was just you and Joel, Tess’s breaths long-since evened out.

“You can get some rest, y’know.” Joel said, his voice low to avoid waking Tess. You were well aware that she was a light sleeper, though you couldn’t blame her. It was the apocalypse, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like you were able to catch much sleep, too hyper focused on staying present to drift even into slumber, fearing you wouldn’t become conscious afterwards, fearing you would just wake.

“‘M fine, Joel.” You grumbled in response, eyes flitting around the rustling grass surrounding you, as if something was going to jump out at any moment.

Joel huffed, something between exasperation and vague amusement in it, and shook his head. “Sure, you are, kid.” He responded, adjusting his grip on the gun and resigning himself to the fact that you were going to stay up, no matter what he said. “Not gonna let anythin’ hurt you, you do know that, right?” He asked, after a long pause, and ignored the unpleasant way your face twisted.

“Why do you two help me? I don’t get it. Not done anything to help you, so why?” You questioned, instead of answering his question, too desperate to know to avoid the opening in the conversation. Joel sighed, a roll of his eyes, a deflection, as always.

“So impossible to believe that we could just be good people?” Joel replied, after your expectant silence lingered on uncomfortably. He shuffled, pausing when Tess moved, but only turned in her sleep.

You huffed, and Joel tried to ignore the way he was sure it sounded just like him. “Yes, it is impossible to believe that. You found me after I…” You paused, unsure how to go about admitting something you didn’t even remember. “After that FEDRA guard. Good people wouldn’t help me, after seeing that.”

“Been in your shoes, kid.” Joel said, at last, and you furrowed your brows at his answer. And the nickname he had taken to calling you. Joel didn’t exactly want to talk about it, both for the unpleasantness he had experienced and the worry that you’d retreat if he was honest. He could barely even explain the why to himself, so he had no idea how he could formulate it into words to tell you. “Not a good place to be, even worse if you’re alone.” He admitted, though he hadn’t been alone for as long as he could remember. There had always been Tommy, and after Tommy there was Sarah, and then his brother returned, but even then — he had Tess. But despite all that company, Joel knew exactly how it felt to be isolated, to be alone in your situation, to feel no other option than to retreat into yourself to get through the day.

He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, let alone you.

You wanted to deny it, to tell Joel that you weren’t alone. That you already had a family you loved, that you already had a dad who cared about you, but what could you say? The truth was, he was gone.

“Get some sleep.” Joel said, dismissing the conversation before you could figure out anything to say. You just frowned at him, staring at him like his expression held all the answers, but as always, Joel revealed nothing. No reasoning, no answers, nothing. Finally, you turned away from him, resting your head against your backpack, eyes remaining open so you could keep an eye on the forest ahead of you for the last few hours of the night.

When the light finally a swept the last of the darkness away, the three of you set off again. Now, you were at the final stretch of your journey — so close to the QZ you could almost smell the pungent scent of fire and unrest. You never thought you’d be glad to see the decimated land around the Boston zone, but here you were, five steps ahead of Tess and Joel, who shared secret glances, communicating in a language you couldn’t understand.

They joined your side when you paused, waiting for them, just along the edge of where FEDRA usually patrolled. You looked to the two adults expectantly, not sure where you’d be entering the Zone, and figuring you must’ve been out of it if they had ever actually told you that part.

Now this, this was where it all went downhill.

“On your knees.” A voice from behind the three of you said, and you recognised the sound of a familiar FEDRA officer, from your time spent as a trainee. You just hoped he wouldn’t remember you. “I said, get on your knees!” He repeated, when the three of you had hesitated a moment too long, stepping forward and jabbing the end of his gun into the back of your knee. You grit your teeth as your knees buckled from the hit, dropping to the ground with your hands raised. You watched Joel and Tess follow when the guard moved towards them. Joel’s jaw was clenched.

“We’re just lookin’ to get to the QZ, man, that’s all.” Tess said, keeping her hands in the air and her head tilted as she tried to negotiate, as usual.

“Just a precaution, ma’am.” The guard responded, a snark to his voice. Despite what he said, when you first arrived to the QZ, there was no precautions this far out. In fact, it was only when you stalked towards the gate that guns were trained on you, your wrists bound until they got you through the main gate to test you.

He was patting down Tess, and you would’ve sworn you could hear Joel grinding his teeth together, clenching his jaw shut so tightly you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had broken. Meanwhile, you focused on trying to remember the name of the guard, trying to recall his temperament, whether he was easily swayed. You blinked your eyes shut, trying to see through the haze that clouded your memories as the guy moved on to Joel, but without seeing the guy’s face, it was too difficult.

“What kinda QZ has precautions this far out?” Joel grumbled as the guard moved along, checking the distance towards the gate with squinted eyes, and trying his best not to clench his fists as the guard moved towards you.

“You born yesterday, man? World’s fucked.” The guard answered, stepping away from you and moving to go around to see the front of the three of you. “Well, I never.” He chuckled, catching sight of your face as it fell, finally putting the voice to the face as you looked at him. “Don’t recall seeing your name on the exist list, trainee.” FEDRA had a bunch of awful guards, but this guy… Jerry, you were pretty fucking sure, was amongst the worst of them.

“Not a trainee, anymore.” You bit out in response, practically feeling the two adults beside you tensing up at the FEDRA guard’s recognition of you. “You even know my name, Jerry?” You asked, tilting your head upwards with your best reinvention of the careless expression that used to rile the man up so much.

He smiled, a grin full of rotten teeth and breath that stung your eyes as he leaned towards you. You resisted the urge to throw up over his shoes as he said your name, proving your hopeful taunt incorrect.

“Alright, now, no need for trouble.” Joel said placatingly, trying to keep the grimace off of his face in exchange for a more… reasonable expression. “We ain’t Infected, just a couple of folks tryin’ to be on their way.”

“Shut your mouth, and mind your business, fella.” Jerry spat towards Joel, before he looked back to you, a grin on that ugly face. “I’ve been trying to get the dirt to have you hung for months, now. Unauthorised exit? Well, that ought’a do it.” He said, morbid amusement dancing across his face. You just bared your teeth at him, a sarcastic expression donning your features.

“Careful, Jerry. You’re soundin’ awfully obsessed. Didn’t they out you for that, once already?” You asked, sarcastically, recalling the way he had been shamed outright by a higher up for getting on the trainee’s cases too much. FEDRA was strict already, so if he was getting publicly scolded for his obsessive behaviour, you figured it must’ve been bad.

You saw the way Joel was tensed up out of the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare turn to look at him, or even attempt to see how Tess was fairing.

It was when Jerry reared back, his rotten teeth bared, a sneer pulling at his features, that you saw Joel move. He’d noticed a second before you did, the way that the FEDRA guard was reaching for his smaller weapon, his handgun, barely getting it out of the holster before Joel was launching up and forwards, pushing Jerry and falling alongside him as they rolled down the slight slope to go towards the QZ gate.

“Joel!” Tess yelled out, a curse falling from her lips as she grabbed the stuff that Jerry had been attempting to confiscate before realising who you were. She dug through her bag, looking for her own gun, too risky to have it on her person this close to the QZ for this goddamn reason. You glanced between her searching frantically and the duo fighting slightly below you, before you caught a glint of metal in one of their hands. Did Joel have a knife? Did he have a knife, or was that Jerry’s? Was Jerry about to fucking stab Joel, who had tackled him to protect you?

You stumbled down the slight decline after the two of them, just as Jerry was catching the upper hand, something red trickling down his sleeve. You pulled the very gun he had tried to pull on you from its holster at his side, before he could even react to you having moved from where you were. He was slow, this guy, but that didn’t mean he was incapable. He was freakishly strong, and he bared bloody teeth at you as he moved to swing the blade in his hands down.

A crack interrupted his movements, blood dancing a crimson path down the side of his forehead.

Jerry’s body slumped backwards, falling away from where he had been about to fucking kill Joel Miller, all for what? His helmet made a dull thunk against the ground as it connected, and Joel was groaning, shoving the deadweight off of him with a bit of a struggle.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Tess asked, grasping onto Joel’s shoulders to help him up, only for him to hiss and pull away, and you vaguely saw Tess’s hand covered in a sticky sheen of blood that had leaked through the material of Joel’s jacket. “Jesus, Joel, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” She scolded, pulling the jacket away and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt to look at the wound. She dug through her bag to pull a few rags out of it, pressing the material against the fucking stab wound, and waiting for Joel’s steady hand to take over before she moved away. “Come on, we can’t wait around. If they’re patrolling this far out, something must’ve gone down, and I doubt anyone’s far enough to have not heard that.” She said, nodding pointedly towards the gun gripped tightly in your fingers.

At her reminder, you shivered, taking the knife from Jerry’s limp hand and replacing it with the gun. You wiped the blood — Joel’s blood — off of the blade onto the side of your jacket, before shoving it back in its place on Jerry’s vest, which you hadn’t even realised was there. You wondered if Joel knew, before he decided to attack him.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You blinked, and realised you were already back at the apartment you stayed in with Joel and Tess.

Joel was sat at the table, med kit set out open in front of him, with Tess being nowhere in sight. He barely spared you a glance as you stood up from the sofa you didn’t remember sitting on, your brows furrowed as you looked around the room, as if the answers—the memories—you wanted would be revealed.

“She went to trade what we managed to get from Bill and Frank’s.” Joel told you, not even looking in your direction as he focused on fixing himself up. He had the rag in his hand once again, wiping at the blood still trickling from his wound. You wondered if Tess didn’t tell you where she was going, or if Joel just knew you weren’t present if she did.

You didn’t even know what had sent you back to the depths of your mind, this time. Was it shooting Jerry? Killing somebody whilst actually being fully responsible for your actions? Was it his threats about getting you hung? Or was it that very wound that Joel was tending to right now? The fact that once again, somebody got hurt, and it was your fault?

“Can you hand me the, uh…” Joel trailed off, gesturing over towards the counter where amber liquid sat in a glass bottle. You went over and grabbed it, placing it down on the table in front of Joel far harsher than you realised you were going to. You hadn’t quite noticed the way anger, or something defensive at least, had settled in your chest, stirring that brimming pot of guilt until it was almost flowing over the edges. “Thanks.” Joel said gruffly, splashing some of the booze onto the rag and pressing it to his shoulder.

You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, to explain himself, but he made no move to do so.

“What is wrong with you?” You said, finally, your voice loud and echoing around the barely furnished room, like it had burst from your chest, like you had no choice in the matter.

“Got stabbed, in case you didn’t notice.” Joel quipped, which seemed even further out of character for him. You vaguely wondered if you had just lost your mind, if this was all some made up scenario playing out in your head.

“Why did you attack him? He didn’t attack you, I—I don’t understand!” You told him, gritting your teeth when Joel just continued tending to his wound, not acknowledging your questioning. Part of you wished Tess was here so she could dismiss you before you could continue, but she was clearly nowhere nearby, given that she hadn’t burst into the room to stop any conflict. “Joel, answer me.”

He finally looked up, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, huh? Somebody’s gotta protect you! Lord knows you don’t do it yourself! Rilin’ that guard up— it was reckless. He could’ve killed you, kid, and what would I have done then?” Joel questioned, his voice louder than your own, a booming thing that had you wanting to retreat. You refused, pushing it down in favour of the confrontation that you’d been putting off for months, by now.

“I can take care of myself.” You answered, spitting the words out like there was a semblance of truth to them. “I’m not your goddamn kid, Joel, there are plenty of other strays you could help out if I had died.” You continued, throwing the nickname back in his face, watching the way he recoiled, something unfamiliar flashing in his eyes.

“Now, you listen—”

He tried to say, only to be interrupted by you continuing on. “No! You’re not my dad, Joel! I already had a dad, okay? I had a dad, and he’s dead, and that’s on me. I won’t go through that again. You gotta stop puttin’ your life on the line for me!”

“Kid…” Joel trailed, the confession not exactly surprising him, but he felt a twinge in his chest nonetheless. He had figured all of this was catalysed by some kind of loss, just going by his own experience with the matter, but he had never known for sure. You were closed off — another way you were just so similar to him, and you’d never spoken about any family.

You closed your eyes, tears brimming in the edges, slipping down your face, and you wiped them away with a rough swipe of your sleeve against your skin. “You don’t understand. It was my fault. If it weren’t for me, he’d—… Every day I’ve been here, I’ve just been wishing we could’ve swapped places, wishing that he was here instead of me, because I can’t do this without my dad. But—But he could’ve, without me.”

“When my Sarah died,” Joel started, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest that just her name brought. “I gave up. I—I lost any will to live, I prayed that it wasn’t real, prayed for God to switch our places, to trade her life for mine. Tried to end it, and when that failed, I got numb. Got lost in my head, ended up fightin’ anybody I crossed paths with, usin’ any excuse to hurt people, even while I was with Tess. Barely even remember it,” Joel continued, a strained laugh falling from his lips, his hand held to his chest in hopes of soothing some of the ache that originated there. “Just remember wakin’ up, covered in—in blood, not knowing who the hell I hurt. So, when I saw you, not even present in your own goddamn head, I figured that wherever you came from, whatever family you might’ve had, they wouldn’t want you ending up like me.”

That pot of guilt in your chest felt like it would explode, even as you blinked back tears, only getting harder the longer Joel spoke, the more he told you. You had never taken him for a religious man, but you supposed you could relate to that, that desperation to just save your family’s life.

“I’ve got too much blood on my hands, kid,” Joel told you, the words going past the literal sense of his own blood, spilled across his palms from that wound that you had caused. It was deeper than that, it was something you related to, like he knew that sensation of fresh blood that plagued you, like it was dripping over your hands all the time. “You gotta wipe yours clean.”

Clearly, that wound on his shoulder wasn’t his only open one. It was there, gaping in his chest, weeping waves of guilt and suffering that hit you with such familiarity. My Sarah. You couldn’t help but think about your dad, couldn’t help wondering if this was how he’d feel, if your places had of swapped.

“He was my dad,” You said desperately, like it could explain everything, like the simple statement could convey everything you couldn’t put into other words. That’s not something you can replace, something you can change, something you can forget. You opened your mouth to continue, but all that happened was the tears stinging your eyes fell, and you turned your head to the side, hoping Joel wouldn’t see the way your lip was trembling.

Joel’s arms were warm when he wrapped them around you, blood still tacky on his shirt where it pressed to your jacket, but you barely noticed it. “She was my daughter.” He said in response, and suddenly it made sense.

If anything about your relationship with Joel was true, it was that you were mirror images. Reflections. Two sides of the same coin, two sides of the same story, one that told of grief and loss and pain that would never go away. His response was the answer you didn’t even realise you had been waiting for. He was my dad, and she was my daughter. Not replacements, not something to try and fill the gaps. The acknowledgment was everything you needed to wrap your arms around Joel, to squeeze his shirt between your fists and cry, to cry for the dad that you lost, for the daughter he lost, for everything the two of you would never have again.

You weren’t Joel’s daughter, and he wasn’t your dad.

That much was true, and you knew it, because you had each other. And maybe, come morning, you would still leave the apartment like you had been considering doing all along, or maybe you would stay. Maybe, you’d let yourself have this, this little family made up of torn apart pieces, of members too damaged to fit just right, of a dad who lost his daughter, and a daughter who lost her dad.

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babydollmarauders · 8 months

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THROWBACKS — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

y/n.hughes

liked by jackhughes, colecaufield, and 122,167 others

y/n.hughes alexa, play fifteen by taylor swift

though if i can make an amendment, there has been nothing greater than dating the boy on the hockey team 🤍 that boy has given me the world and the absolute cutest daughter in the world

tagged jackhughes

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colecaufield damn, talk about some throwbacks!

y/n.hughes my phone made a compilation of these today and you know i just HAD to post them!

trevorzegras you post 3 photos of me and i don’t even get a tag?? i see how it is! hoe’s before bro’s i guess

y/n.hughes trevor, you’re letting your drama king out

trevorzegras he deserves to shine. don’t stick him in the basement when he deserves the pent house. he deserves to bejeweled.

y/n.hughes don’t you dare use the sacred word of mother against me! i advise you to check the book of Lover; chapter 14; verses 0:50-0:54

jackhughes it’s like i married trevor… oh i just got chills

user92 we ask, and y/n delivers omg

jackhughes lovie, you are the greatest thing i’ve ever done

y/n.hughes do you wanna reread what you just said?

jackhughes lovie, MARRYING YOU is the greatest thing i’ve ever done

jackhughes i still stand by my original comment though

y/n.hughes momma is gonna see this!

jackhughes we have a child, do you think she doesn’t already know these things?

slknight35 oh wow, you’ve been down tremendously for THAT man since you were 15? look at him

y/n.hughes since i was 13*

slknight35 that’s actually worse

_quinnhughes you two make me sick in the best way possible

y/n.hughes my bad, Q— didn’t know you were allergic to love

_quinnhughes you’ve been with him too long, he’s corrupted you. what happened to my sweet little y/n that asked me how the star wars movies were made if they would’ve been floating in space? she would never talk to me like this

y/n.hughes hey! i was young!

_quinnhughes you were 14, you were old enough to realize they weren’t actually filmed in space

y/n.hughes i was a dreamer and a believer! your brother seemed to have found that quite charming

jackhughes you were like an innocent little kicked puppy that i wanted to take home with me and keep safe forever

y/n.hughes @/jackhughes why do you speak? you’re SO pretty, and then you open your mouth

jackhughes technically, i didn’t say it, i typed it.

y/n.hughes @/jackhughes crib.

jackhughes yes, that is where El sleeps?

y/n.hughes @/jackhughes no, that is where YOU will sleep. act immature, get treated immature.

jackhughes i’m sorry, i love you

user27 these photos omg i just can’t even believe they’ve been together THIS long

lhughes_06 sis, i say this with so much love… why?

y/n.hughes what do you mean “why” ?!

lhughes_06 i mean, why the pictures? why Jack? why?

y/n.hughes you guys look adorable! and because he’s always been the cutest boy to ever walk the planet to me

lhughes_06 i think you need your eyes checked

jackhughes what is this, hate on Jack day?!

_alexturcotte i’ve always been stylin 💯

y/n.hughes hey remember when you used to call me at 7am and ask what you should wear?

_alexturcotte idk what you’re talking about. that doesn’t ring a bell.

y/n.hughes really? cause you did it for 5 years

_alexturcotte lovie, please, you’re killing my game

y/n.hughes you have game?!

#el!hughes au #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

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asumofwords · 4 months

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Midpoint - Michael Gavey x Reader - Coming soon

Synopsis: The semester break came along quicker than you thought it would, and you decided to stay on campus for the break to get ahead in your studies. What will happen when you go head-to-head with a certain ill-tempered maths student in a war of pettiness?

Warnings: This fic is 18+, readers discretion is advised.

Notes: Hello my angels, sorry I’ve been gone so long, it’s been a rough time lately. I’m so excited to share this with you all soon😈 so here is a lil teaser of our grumpy little Michael hehehe I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment if you’d like to be tagged 🖤

📚📚📚

You kept the perfect image of innocence, looking back down at your unhurried notes as you tapped your pen loudly against the tables surface. You could see his fists clenching in your periphery at his side, his pale button up shirt with beige pants shifting from side to side as he stood angrily watching you.

“What are you doing?” The blonde’s voice cut through the quiet of the library, irritation evident in his tone.

You didn’t bother to look up, pen still clicking rhythmically against the table, “Hm?”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

Placing the pen on your page, you finally looked up, pleased to see a vision of frustration, “Pardon?”

The mans cheeks flushed an angry red as he stared down at you, lips pulling into a tight line, “Whatever you think-“

“-I’m sorry,” You interrupted him, leaning forward to look up into his eyes sweetly, “Do I know you?”

The man leant forward and sneered, “Gavey.”

“Gavey?” You titled your head.

“Yes.” He grit through his teeth, looking down at your spread notes all over his usual table.

Then it came to you.

“Gavey! Michael Gavey!”

You remembered now why he was so familiar.

📚📚📚

If you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

#Michael Gavey x reader #Michael Gavey x y/n #Michael Gavey #Saltburn #michael Gavey fanfic #michael Gavey smut #Saltburn fanfic #Saltburn fic #Saltburn smut #michael gavey reader insert

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harrysmmm · 9 months

Note

hello, love! i originally put this in the comments but it might get lost in your notifications. anyway, if you are up for it, do you mind writing a second part for magically annoying? i need jealous draco 😩 anyway, if you do it may you please tag me in the comments or something so i am brought back and dont forget? thanks so much! dont feel pressured to write it 🩷🫶🏻

have a wonderful and lovely day/night <3

thank you love for the inbox! hope you like it !!! ♡

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball. (part two)

part 1

W/C: 2.4K

Taglist: @mrsmikaelsxn @Iail1010

masterlist here

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Mixed feelings. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. A long velvet dress was framing your body, embellishing every edge, every curve of it. Your shoulders were naked, leaving your collarbones with no room for imagination. You paired up the dress with cream high-heels that matched your hand purse.

“I swear this pin on my hair won’t stay put,” Hermione said from the other side of the room.

“I can’t believe you don’t have a spell for that, Hermione,” you teased a little bit.

“There’s no reason for a spell for hair, Y/N.” She approached your mirror and stood next to you. “Besides, I’ve tried to cast one and it’s not possible.”

“Are you guys talking about hair spells?” Luna Lovegood was standing at the doorframe of your dormitory. How the hell did she get in the Gryffindor common room? “I know a bunch of them. I made these two-side ponytails with one of them.”

“Well… you shouldn’t be here Luna!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Cool it off,” you advised here.

“I mean, this is the Gryffindor area. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neville let me in. I’m going with him to the ball. Apparently, Ginny ditched on him. How curious, I thought she was after him, but guess she’s not.”

“Well, you look stunning, Luna,” you added. She did look pretty, in her own way. She was wearing an aluminium dress, or that’s what it looked like, coupled with hanging balls of cotton on the edges. Her face was decorated with shiny, glittery makeup.

“Thank you, Y/N. Your dress is really pretty, it highlights your body. I’m sure Harry is going to think the same.”

The name had been dropped. Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. That was your date to the ball. After the incident with Malfoy, Harry was by far your safest bet. And besides, he did ask you first.

You had spent those past few weeks thinking how, when the moment would come, you wouldn’t think about the incident with Malfoy.

How you would not think about his eyes staring into yours with your wand up.

You would not think about him getting closer with a smirk on his face.

Not think about his eyes going up and down your body.

Think about his hand making contact with your waist.

His lips painfully slow when brushing yours.

His lips.

Draco Malfoy.

It was going to go downhill.

It was tradition that boys would get to the entrance first. They would all be waiting for their ladies to go down the stairs, greet them with a soft kiss on their hand, and show them to the Great Hall.

Hermione and Luna had already left - you were still passing your fingers through your hair in an attempt of putting it together. Although your hair was already in its place, you needed an outlet to where to put your twisting feelings on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again.

Why bloody Malfoy? Why him?

While you were trying to find an answer to the rhetorical question a silly smile got in your face.

No. No. No.

You were giggling like a twelve-year-old with a crush on another twelve-year-old. Pathetic.

Besides, the thought of him didn’t deserve any of your time. The butthead hadn’t even looked at you since the incident. In fact, his little pranks had become even more annoying, even more personal, if that could ever happen. He had faked a letter from Professor Snape that had put on your desk in Charms class. The letter described as followed:

“Miss Y/L/N, Your scores on the test about deadly potion mixing have been the lowest I have ever seen in all my teaching years in this school. I’m afraid you will be suspended in advance and hope to pass next semester. I won’t tolerate a Gryffindor mocking my course, nor my teaching methods. I must take 30 points off Gryffindor. Yours sincerely, Professor Snape P.S. the same applies to Potter. Also the points.”

You teared up that day. And if it wasn’t enough, when you went to see Snape and found out it was fake, he took ten points off Gryffindor for being so naive and believing it was true. He also took ten points off on Harry, for being, once again, mingled in the sauce.

And putting everything aside, you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend you weren’t going to look for his face that night. You couldn’t pretend you were not going to wonder about what would’ve happened if you had said yes to him. How you would slow dance together; how everyone would think you were the most unthinkable couple, but that deep down you were killing the game.

You brushed all of those feeling off, looking at yourself in the mirror forcing it to be the last time. You turned around and headed to the stairs before the ball began.

Harry was patiently waiting for you. He had been looking on and off to the stairs since girls started to come down. He was really nervous about the whole situation and for the first time, it didn’t have to do with him being the centre of attention as one of the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. He was nervous because of you. He had been wanting to ask you out since the beginning of the course, but never had the guts to do it, knowing that a friendship was at stake. The moment you said yes to him after dinner, his belly exploded in thousands of butterflies, and he promised himself that he would try to act as a gentleman for you that night. Because you were the most lovable person he had ever met.

Suddenly, you made the entrance on the stairs. His gaze immediately went to you - how your hair fell perfectly from your shoulders; how the tale of the dress would follow your steps when you went down; how your eyes would magically swing between the stair steps and him. He was taken by the view. Once you had come down, he greeted you with his arm.

“Hey.”

He wanted to say how good you looked. He wanted to, but something blocked his throat, and he was almost unable to speak.

“Hum… you… hum… shall we?”

You got the hint. “We shall.”

You two got in the line of the champions, who as tradition, entered the ball first and opened it with the first dance. While McGonagall was counting you to make sure everyone was at their place, you scanned the room looking for a certain bleached one.

There you found him.

He had his arms crossed with Pansy Parkinson’s. He was gracefully talking to a Durmstrang student as if it was a sort of haute-classe yearly networking party. You hated how he seemed so unbothered, so natural. He looked naturally happy. You hated it because all you could do was fake.

You decided you were going to give him a little bit of a show.

The trumpets started echoing and everyone stood in both sides of the Great Hall, except the champions and their partners who were waiting for the sign to walk up to the dance floor. When McGonagall gave the green flag, the line started to move, every couple having their arms crossed with one another. You decided to hold Harry’s hand. He looked surprised at you but didn’t move his. You were walking down the aisle, most people noticing the subtlety of your tangled hands. You peripherally looked at Draco, and noticed he had a blank expression on his face when you passed next to him. Was that jealousy? Indifference? Oblivion? You couldn’t keep thinking of interpretations when Harry’s hand got to your waist, beginning just like that the first dance of the ball. You gracefully moved with him, having internalized the compass weeks prior. You swung from one side to the other for exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds when you stopped the dance, and everyone clapped. Harry’s eyes were mesmerized on yours, seeming oblivious to what was happening on the outside.

“Y/N, I-” He started a sentence, but he rapidly stopped talking, getting closer and closer as seconds went by.

Was he going to…? You couldn’t succumb to that happening.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And just like that, you left the dance floor in everyone’s eyes.

You got in one of the cubicles of the restroom. You locked the door behind you and melted on the floor. You were so conflicted… why all of a sudden did Harry have so much interest in you? And why did Malfoy tell you all those things a month ago and didn’t even lock his eyes with yours since?

“Y/N?”

It was Hermione’s voice.

“Yeah, here,” you replied, getting up.

“You okay?,” she said.

“Yeah, just a sec.”

You flushed to pretend and got out of the toilet.

“You don’t look okay.” Hermione knew you all too well.

“Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Did the people overwhelm you or did Harry do it?”

You waited a few seconds to reply. “Both.”

“About the people, the hardest part already ended, we already opened the ball. About Harry, you should hint him that you don’t feel the same.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“It’s inevitable. Sooner rather than later.”

She didn’t know about Draco. You hadn’t told a soul about what happened. Mostly because you didn’t understand it yourself, but also because keeping it a secret made it more exciting – it was like your chocolate sweet before bedtime. You wanted it all to yourself.

You went over to the sink and started washing your hands.

“And you with Viktor? Have you two talked a bit?”

“Well, he doesn’t really talk. In fact, he doesn’t talk at all.”

“Stunning,” you replied.

She grinned back at you.

You both exited the bathroom and went to both your respective dates. You saw Harry sitting down on one of the tables, talking to Ron. You joined them.

“Hey, sorry for earlier.”

“Hey. No, it’s fine. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries.”

“You wanna dance, maybe?”

“Sure.”

He gave you his hand and showed you to the dancefloor. A lively rock song was being played and both of you started moving to the rhythm, having fun more than dancing. That was until you looked at your left and saw that someone couldn’t stop staring at you. You and Draco locked eyes with each other while he was also dancing with Pansy.

He put his hand on her waist.

You placed your arms around Harry’s neck.

He pulled Pansy closer to him.

You slowly got closer to Harry’s face.

That was until Harry cut the scene.

“You wanna go for drinks?”

You were surprised. Wasn’t he into you? Why was he not adhering to what was happening, even if you weren’t technically doing it to him?

“Okay,” you replied.

You both exited the dancefloor and headed to the drinks counter. He served you some punch.

“Y/N, I-”

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall blurted, “you must come with the other champions for the ceremonial speech.”

“The ceremonial wha-”

“Come, come. There’s no time,”

He looked at you one last time before being swollen by McGonagall’s anxiety. You looked at him leaving until someone disturbed your moment.

“No more boyfriend, Y/L/N?” Draco’s voice made an alarm in your heart go on.

You looked right at him. “I could ask the same thing.”

He smirked at you.

“What are you drinking?”

“Why do you care?”

“Woo-hoo, you were swollen by a dementor or what?”

“So funny, aren’t you?”

“So pissy. It’s because Potter left you?”

“You know, you sound like a kindergarten.” You stopped looking at him and drank more of the punch.

“Now that your boyfriend left, what you doing tonight?”

“What do you mean? We’re in a ball.”

“I stick to my question.”

You sighed. “I will stay at the ball until I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep.”

“Pity, I thought you might wanna get your wand back. Taking into consideration that tomorrow we still have class.”

You looked back at him, astonished. “My wand? Did you take my wand?”

“Who said I did? I’m just making a point here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

“Draco, where is my wand?”

“Funny you ask because, it will only appear if you really need it.”

You got the hint. You looked one last time at Draco and rolled your eyes. You exited the ball with fast steps and headed to the seventh floor, left corridor, where the Room Of Requirements could be found. You closed your eyes and focused on your wand. Suddenly, where there was before a wall a door appeared. You got in.

The room was full of antic objects. You started by looking at the floor to see if Draco had thrown it, but you couldn’t see it. It was going to be impossible will all the number of objects.

“Looking for this?”

Draco’s voice echoed in the room. You turned around and there he was with your wand in hand.

“Draco, I’m done with your silly games. Give it back.”

“Come take it.” He kept it in one of his pants’ pockets.

“Draco,” you sighed, still you stood in front of him

You put one of your hands in his pocket to grab the wand and he immediately got closer to you. So close your lips were almost brushing each other.

“Hi,” he said.

You didn’t reply and with the willpower you have left, you tried to grab the wand. He got even closer, his crotch making contact with you. He had a boner.

You paralyzed and eventually, looked up at his eyes.

He was staring at you with no smile this time. He looked desperate and lustful. He pulled your head towards his, and his lips made their way to yours.

He started kissing you softly, only both of your lips playing with one another. Then he started introducing his tongue and biting your lower lip so hard it made you moan. You grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you. He moved one of his hands to your ass and squeezed it a few times. He let out a moan.

“The Room of Requirements,” you started saying between kisses, “only opens when you need it.” He tried to shut you up with his mouth but you continued. “How did you get in?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked you, ending the kiss and staring into your eyes. “I needed you.”

Enamoured. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

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drunk-on-dk · 2 months

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[11:16 PM] | Yoon Jeonghan

pairing: bestfriend!Jeonghan x afab!reader tags/genre: angst, slow burn, friends to lovers (?), maybe fluff?, maybe suggestive? (minors DNI), college au, frat au, mentions of alcohol (drunk cheol appearance), the reader is a bit emotional, no specific pronouns but mentions wearing a skirt w/c: ~1.4 (a bit long for a timestamp I'm sorry) summary: Jeonghan has always been your Valentine, even if he's only been your best friend all these years. a/n: this is an excerpt that was taken out of my WIP Over the Country Club [teaser link here], which I didn't plan to include and sort of used to think of how I want to develop their dynamic a bit more. I still thought it would be fun to share! Happy Valentine's (and carat) day!

“There you are! Don’t you know I’ve been looking everywhere for you?” The shrill voice that rang from behind you was easily recognizable as your best friend’s. His tone was unfamiliar, a mix of disappointment and concern that made your eardrums trill in embarrassment knowing you must have worried him. Selfishly, you don’t bother to respond nor look in his direction, too embarrassed to face him and expose your likely swollen eyes.

It’s not like he’s bothered to spend any time with you tonight anyway. You didn’t think he’d even notice you were gone.

Jeonghan comes to a hesitant stop behind where you’re sat on the curb, sneakers smacking on the dewy pavement just inches away from you, definitely close enough to hear your sniffles. A quiet hiccup escapes you, pulling a sigh from Jeonghan who evaluates you carefully.

Admittedly, if Jeonghan hadn’t spent the last thirty minutes running around the frat house in a frenzied search for you, he might have teased your slumped form that was dressed in a ridiculous Valentine’s Day get-up. The red tinsel headband with spring hearts was crooked on your head, your hair slightly frizzy from the humid air of the yearly Cupid’s Arrow party his frat held, and fingertips nervously tugging at your comically short miniskirt.

Jeonghan advised you not to wear that skirt tonight, not that he ever intended to dictate what you wore, but just out of friendly concern. You know, since you might get cold, and definitely not because he had a hard time controlling his wandering eyes. No, friends don’t do that.

As per usual, you were excited about this party; you had a plethora of festive accessories - including that silly headband you were presently wearing - that you’d dig through a bin for, fishing out an item for you and Jeonghan to wear. (Every year you’d beg Jeonghan to wear something festive, he’d typically settle for the fuzzy pink ‘xoxo’ socks you had, but this year he let you put little heart stickers on his cheeks).

“Everything OK?” His voice is soft, deciding to set aside his frustration that you’ve been MIA. Jeonghan squats down behind you to place a gentle hand on your back, feeling you tense slightly at the contact, but you don’t pull away from him, which he takes as a good sign. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you mumble, your voice sounding a bit hoarse, revealing that something is in fact wrong. Jeonghan sighs again, this time you feel his breath fan out against the back of your neck, making your skin prickle at the warmth.

There’s a pause as if Jeonghan is thinking deeply about what could have caused you to be upset. “You were with all the guys when I last saw you. Was it Cheol? Did he say something stupid?”

“Jeonghan,” your voice is whiny, and it would almost be embarrassing if it wasn’t your best friend you were talking to. Seungcheol didn’t upset you. Well, maybe he inadvertently did, which is why you couldn’t admit to Jeonghan that he might be onto something. You forget that Jeonghan knows you better than anyone does.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Jeonghan clicks his tongue, an incredulous laugh escaping his lips. “That bastard. Do you want me to go knock some sense into him? He’s on another level tonight, seriously can’t keep his mouth shut.”

You’re almost frantic, turning around to grab Jeonghan’s wrist when you feel him stand up to go confront his frat brother, who was also one of your closest confidants other than Jeonghan.

Seungcheol who may have had too much to drink tonight and may have been a bit loose-lipped when he pointed out the fact that, slurring, “You know, Y/N. Jeonghan’s really messed up your game tonight. Won’t let anyone hit on you, even told the whole frat that you were off limits for Valentine’s, and he’s practically ditched you with me. What’s that all about? Kinda fucked up if you ask me, dude.”

When Seungcheol made his comment, you had rolled your eyes and shoved some crackers his way, encouraging him to sober up. He was talking a load of bullshit. That was until you really sat back and thought about it, how no one has approached you tonight. Not even one soul, and at this point you settled on the fact you’d unceremoniously go home alone later tonight. It hadn’t bothered you at all, not until your eyes narrowed in on Jeonghan who was busy flirting in the corner, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach at the sight.

God, was that a confusing feeling. Enough to send you into a panic, sending you stumbling outside in search of fresh air. Instead of finding solstice, it almost felt as if the cool breeze knocked some sense into you, tears welling in your eyes thinking ‘fuck, it is annoying that Jeonghan hasn’t spent any time with me tonight. It is annoying that I’ve been apparently branded with an invisible ‘off limits’ sign. And why is he there flirting with someone instead of hanging out with me?’

Not that you planned on leaving, but you needed to collect your thoughts a bit before heading back inside. You hadn’t realized you were gone for that long until Jeonghan came looking for you.

Hence, which is why Jeonghan feels his heart breaking when he sees your expression, a small hand wrapped around his wrist and red-rimmed eyes silently pleading as if to say ‘don’t leave.’

Like the softie he is for you, Jeonghan pauses, urging you to speak when he quietly utters, “Something’s wrong, and I can’t help you if I don’t know why.”

“It’s seriously nothing,” you breathe, finally gathering the courage to stand up from the curb. You let go of his wrist to properly brush yourself off. You know Jeonghan doesn’t believe you, so you muster up your best lie. “Just a few tipsy tears over the fact it’s another year without a Valentine. Nothing to worry about.”

It’s a big lie, you’re practically sober, and not once have you ever been bothered by the lack of a true Valentine. However, after seemingly contemplating your words for a moment, it must be convincing enough for Jeonghan, who pulls you into a comforting embrace, lips pressing against your forehead just like he usually does when you’re upset over something.

“That’s not true,” he mumbles into your hair, a teasing smile evident when he squeezes you a bit too tightly, earning a discontent groan from you. “You know I’m always your Valentine. Forever and always your Valentine.”

To which your heart skips a beat, what is supposed to be an innocent comment evokes a foreign feeling in your tummy for the second time tonight. It was true, long ago you two had pinky promised in grade school that you’d always be each other’s Valentines, not knowing the true nature of the holiday at that time. It was a curse you clearly had to deal with for almost your entire life.

As you attempt to push him away, his nimble fingers tickle your sides in an attempt to cheer you up. Jeonghan stumbles away from you when you successfully break away, loving the way you huff in frustration at his teasing, his impish laugh quelling the weird fluttering feeling through your body.

“Shut up, Yoon Jeonghan,” you use his legal name, evoking an incredulous chuckle from him as you stomp towards the house. It’s a feeble attempt to get as far away as possible, trying to hide what you assume is an incriminating blush on your cheeks.

“Slow down, Valentine,” he sing-songs behind you, following closely as you re-enter the house, and immediately pulling you in for a bone-crushing back hug, guiding you back towards your typical group of friends.

Thankfully, you find Seungcheol in a much more sober state, but you almost wish he was long gone, face-down in his bed instead. Especially when his sharp eyes narrow in on you and Jeonghan, curious and analyzing as Jeonghan clings to you. It wasn’t out of the usual, it was just that Seungcheol started paying closer attention, and you felt seen for the first time ever during your friendship with Jeonghan.

“You sure you’re doing OK?” Jeonghan asks, his voice low as he leans closer to your ear, making sure you hear him over the booming music.

It was then you knew you absolutely were not OK. Regardless, you twist your body as best as you can in Jeonghan’s grip, head craning so that you're face-to-face with your best friend. His worried eyes indicate that he’s still concerned, leaving you to breathlessly (nervously) respond, “Yeah, I swear I’m OK. Thanks for always being my Valentine, Hannie.”

#jeonghan fic #yoon jeonghan #seventeen fic #seventeen angst #svthub #yoon jeonghan fic #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan seventeen #jeonghan

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nicohischierz · 3 months

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twins??: nico hischier x devs!player

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

"this is really good shea," you praised the boy.

the newest member of the hischier household was showing off his newly acquired cooking skills. it was also because nobody was in the mood to cook.

seamus had decided to join the devils after completing his four years at michigan. saira was now two years old and thrilled to have another 'brother' along with connor.

the little girl had started speaking occasionally, her first words being "con-con".

saira sat on your lap as you fed her some of seamus eggs, taking bites for yourself as well when a wave of nausea hit you. you passed your daughter to her father and ran to the nearest bathroom.

the boys could hear the sound of your retches and promptly pushed the eggs away from them. "hey I had nothing to do with that," he whined.

nico placed saira on the floor before following you to the bathroom. "schatz, are you okay?" he asked, peering his head around the door.

you flushed the toilet and washed your mouth before facing your fiance.

"do you think we can make an appointment with doctor michaels?” you whispered.

nico stared at you.

"dr michaels? your ob/gyn. why do you need to see your ob/gyn?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

it took a second for your words to click in his mind before nico was wrapping you up in his arms. nico bent down and kissed your lips.

"are you sure?" nico asked, gently pressing a hand to your stomach.

you shrugged. "i took two tests, one said negative and the other was positive. then when lindy was talking about dates I realised I missed my period, so I got to wondering if I was actually pregnant or not," you explained.

nico brought you in for another kiss. “whatever she says, we do this together” he promised.

you nodded and kissed him one more time before going out to your friends.

isla gave you a look asking if you were okay and you nodded. “do you guys think you can watch saira for a bit? neeks and i are going to the doctors for a quick check up,” you asked your friend.

“woah why can’t connor and i watch her?” seamus asked, just as he dropped a pan. the boy smiled sheepishly and turned away.

“is everything okay?” connor asked.

you nodded and squeezed his arm. “i’ve just not been feeling well so we’re going to see what’s wrong,” you told them before grabbing your things.

the group stayed in your home, looking after your children whilst you and nico headed to your appointment.

“well y/n, i’d like to say congratulations on your pregnancy,” dr michaels congratulated when she checked the ultrasound.

nico grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“if you see over here, this is baby number one and right there is baby number two,” she pointed towards your two babies.

“hold on did you just say baby number two?”

“twins?”

you and nico asked. dr michaels looked at the two of you and smiled.

“i’d say you’ve got a week of hockey left at best,” she advised.

you and nico looked to each other.

it wasn’t ideal that you were pregnant in the middle of the season but you and nico knew what you had to do.

“is everything okay?” connor asked as soon as you guys walked into your apartment. timo had saira laying on his chest as the two of them slept. isla and jack were looking at baby’s names for their little boy whilst luke was on the phone with his girlfriend.

nico handed him the ultrasound and smiled.

isla caught sight of it and squealed.

“no way!” she ran over to you and hugged you.

you nodded and hugged her, tears streaming down your face.

“we’re having twins,” nico announced.

#nico hischier x player!reader #saira hischier au #nicohischierz writes

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kiwiana-writes · 3 months

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Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @onthewaytosomewhere - it's always nice when I'm not kicking the week off lmao. I didn't get a lot of writing done this week because I was busy editing the Going Platinum podfic I posted today, but I've powered through so I have something to share!

Rockstar Alex is now officially fully epistolary, because I figured out how to get #3 from the five fun facts game into a fully epistolary format. If you are thinking to yourself, "Great! If it's fully epistolary then it can't hurt as much!" I would advise you to turn to your nearest Schitt's Creek fandom buddy who has read my fics in that fandom and ask them how they feel about chapter 5 of Meet me out at the end of my rope (aka angstapalooza), and calibrate accordingly 😈

SO. Below the cut is a little sneak peek of this with the skin on (and some bonus Reddit comments because when I go epistolary I go balls to the wall), but if you don't want to venture under the cut, enjoy the text version of an r/TIFU post:

TIFU by breaking my no-hookup rule Obligatory ‘this didn’t happen today’ but my friends are still making fun of me days later, so. I’m not a hookup/cruising kind of gay. Full respect to you if you are, it’s just never been my thing - I’m more of a serial monogamist type But it was my friend’s birthday last weekend and we all went out to a gay bar, and I ended up dancing with this guy who… honestly if I describe how off the charts hot he was you wouldn’t believe me anyway, so you’ll just have to trust me on this. He was there with a friend and the friend bought us a few rounds of vodka shots before fucking off somewhere, so me and this guy went back to dancing. And then the dancing was grinding, and then we were making out for a bit before he said he was gonna go to the bathroom with THAT head tilt. You know the one. Even my no-hookups ass knows the one. And yeah, I don’t do hookups, but fuck it. I said yes (I really cannot express how hot this guy was lol) and followed him to the bathroom. I won’t get into all the details but suffice to say getting blown by this dude was a religious experience. I’m just getting to the point of no return when he pulls back all of a sudden. And he’s got tears in his eyes, but I just thought it was from like… well, you know… but then he STOOD UP. I was like “what the fuck dude” and he just started APOLOGIZING, saying something about the song????? I hadn’t been paying attention tbh, I was a bit busy having my brains sucked out through my dick, but this guy just muttered something about the song and his ex and then he LEFT ME in the fucking club bathroom, dick bobbing in the wind. I think I’m back to no hookups from now on tbh. TL;DR: first ever hookup ended with a stranger literally sobbing his way off my dick, and ACD’s new song is a banger, but I’ll probably never be able to hear it without thinking of the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tagging @affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @blairwaldcrf @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #wip: rockstar alex exes to lovers #this is gonna get ridiculous #(this is already ridiculous)

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petersprincesss · 2 years

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You’re in Trouble Now

Hi again!

This was requested by @marniscoffee on my one-shots of Peter Ballard post. You can find it and make a request here.

I will be responding to all requests and should have them up sometime this week, I will tag you in yours!

I thought someone else requested this exact number and genre as well, so if that was you and I have forgotten to tag you, please forgive me, I couldn’t find it anywhere!

OKAY!

Genre: smut

Rating: R? ig? Explicit? It’s smut, okay?

Tags: dom/sub, dom Peter Ballard, choking, edging, orgasm denial/delay, general kinky shit idk

Smut Below the Cut!

“Is this a game to you, Y/N?” Dr. Brenner quizzed you, bringing his eyes down to your level, your noses less than an inch from touching.

You were seated in a metal chair inside one of the children’s training rooms being scolded by Dr. Brenner for not following his endlessly strict protocol. A single tear slipped from your eye and cascaded down your cheek, your bottom lip curling into an unsettled frown.

“No, sir,” you winced. You were sorry, but only that you had been caught. You didn’t understand why he was so uptight about every miniscule detail.

You heard a click, followed by the creak of the door opening behind you. Peter stepped through the entrance and to the side, careful not to interrupt your interrogation. Your cheeks grew hot as you thought about the idea of him watching you be punished. Your eyes drifted over your shoulder in attempts to find his, but Dr. Brenner grabbed your chin and restricted you to looking only at him.

“I don’t want to hear about anything like this happening ever again, do you understand me?” He spat.

“Yes sir,” you replied submissively.

“Good,” he remarked, letting go of your chin and rising to his full height, “I’ve asked Peter to keep a close eye on you for the time being. We can’t handle any little slip ups, so I want you to rely on his discipline to keep you in check. I advise that you do whatever he recommends without question.”

The air in your lungs was practically sucked out of you. Dr. Brenner had to have known how you pined for Peter. He had to have seen the way you looked into Peter’s cerulean eyes, the way your irises flickered whenever Peter entered a room, or how your chest heaved by merely being close to him. Dr. Brenner had to have known that this was the perfect punishment for you specifically.

“I will, sir,” you promised. Your heartbeat began to crowd the inside of your chest as if it was going to expel itself from behind your ribs.

Dr. Brenner opened the door to exit, remarking to Peter as he passed, “I leave her in your hands now.”

With that, the two of you were now alone. You were finally able to turn around to look at your new overseer, and his apathetic stare did not provide any comfort. Something about his hardened, domineering stance caused your stomach to flutter, your body quivering from more than just your pathetic sobs.

“What did you do?” Peter asked, his tone detached and distant.

“I just- I gave one of the kids-” you began, but your breath hitched under your tears, your dismay of your interaction with your boss weighing too heavily over you.

“Spit it out,” Peter ordered, stepping behind the seat you were perched on, placing his hands on either side of the back of the chair.

“I gave number four a piece of candy,” you sniveled, wiping a tear from your cheek with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“I see. And why don’t we do that?”

“Because only Dr. Brenner is allowed to reward the children.”

“That’s right. You know better,” Peter commended you with a patronizing tone.

“I just felt bad for him because he-” you started to speak, but you were cut off by Peter snatching a fistfull of your hair and yanking it backwards. You closed your eyes in shock, knowing that as soon as you opened them, his sapphire irises would be boring into yours.

“You know the rules. We obey them no matter what.”

“Yes sir,” you responded instinctively.

Peter let out a scoff from behind you and released your hair, allowing your head to bow back forward.

“You know,” he spoke, gliding effortlessly around in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back, “I kind of like hearing you call me sir.”

Your gaze shot up to meet him as he circled to a stop. He was not the sweet and caring orderly you had been working with all this time any longer. He was now your possessor, and the heat growing between your legs confirmed that you wanted nothing more. You craved nothing more than for him to do exactly as he pleased with you.

“That’s how I want you to refer to me from now on. No matter where we are, no matter who can hear you, that’s who I am to you now. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Are you going to be good for me while you’re under my command?” Peter inquired. Although he spoke so matter-of-factly, you felt that he was genuinely asking you, and you knew your response would determine how he would treat you whenever the two of you engaged with one another.

“Yes, sir, I am,” you responded. You felt as though “yes sir” and “no sir” were beginning to make up your entire vocabulary. Under Peter’s control, you didn’t care. You didn’t need any other words.

“That’s my girl. Do you know what good girls get?”

Your fingers kneaded together anxiously, your mind racing with possibilities, lustful desires of what you wanted to get for being Peter’s good girl.

“No sir. Please tell me what good girls get.”

Peter chuckled arrogantly, “I don’t want to tell you. I want to show you. Stand up.”

You obeyed him without question, rising to your feet. The crown of your head lined up perfectly beneath his nose. Turning your face up to him, you felt his heated breath ease down your cheeks.

Peter didn’t waste a costly second putting his palms on your shoulders, guiding you around the chair and backwards against the door he entered from moments earlier. Holding you there firmly, Peter bit his bottom lip, surveying his prized possession. You felt your ribcage expand and compress at a rate that nearly caused concern, but your mind couldn’t stray from the filthy appetite you had worked up.

“If you’re going to be a good girl,” Peter whispered, his lips grazing against your earlobe, “you’re going to have to be very quiet.”

You stifled a moan, biting into your lip with such a force you nearly drew blood. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you nodded, the back of your skull rubbing against the dull, off-white door behind you.

Peter’s hand left your shoulder and trailed down to your knees, his fingertips slowly pulling up the hem of your white skirt. His palm rested flat atop your thigh before it snaked upward, pushing your uniform up and exposing you. He was ready to hook his fingers around your undergarments when he discovered that you weren’t wearing any.

“Y/N?” He said, his touch suddenly frozen. Your stomach dropped, knowing he had discovered your risqué secret.

“Y-yes?” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut tight, an erotic shame piling inside you.

“Are you not wearing any panties?”

“No, sir.”

Peter flashed a naughty grin at you. He knew you wanted to play his game, but he was surprised to discover that you might have been dirtier than he was.

“Such a little slut,” he breathed, struggling to contain his excitement.

Peter brought one hand up to your neck and applied pressure just firmly enough on either side of your neck that your heartbeat thumped in your brain. With his free hand, he reached down and slid his zipper open, removing himself from his pleated white trousers. You smiled at him feverishly, too aroused to play his game of cat and mouse. His hold on your neck shifted as he brought his thumb up to meet your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir. Please,” you begged.

“Good,” he declared. His hand moved from himself to the back of your thigh, raising it upward so that your skirt rose over your hip bones and allowed him access to your center.

Peter dove into you swiftly, bottoming out on his first thrust. Your spine arched back and your mouth fell agape, ready to release an agonizingly pleasured moan, but you remembered Peter’s demand that you stay silent. You swallowed your expression, releasing a wave of goosebumps down your arms to your fingertips. Peter was larger than you had expected, and your body nearly buckled under his form. Your palm grasped onto his shoulder desperately, your nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N” Peter grunted, fighting to keep his composure. Hearing your name leave his lips in such a trance nearly sent you over the edge, and he hadn’t even been inside you for a full minute yet. Your foot lifted, heightening you to resting on the tips of your toes. Peter’s clutch on your opposite leg tensed, pulling you further up onto him. He pushed into you with such intensity, never permitting either of you to question exactly where his priorities lay.

Feeling your tireless efforts to keep yourself open for him, Peter released his grip on your neck and tugged your still-standing leg upwards so that you were now wholly supported by his strength and the pressure of the door pushing against your back. Your ankles crossed behind his back, your heels prodding him like a horse, sheepishly demanding that he keep his pace.

Although not outwardly moaning, your heavy breaths were far from quiet, and the gentle gaps between them provided just enough silence for Peter to hear a pair of footsteps approaching on the opposite side of the door. Peter clasped his hand over your mouth, hurriedly muffling your aching breaths and dropping your leg back to the floor.

“Not a fucking peep, you understand me?” Peter directed. A vein in his forehead made itself visible between his once compassionate brows.

You nodded in response, your eyes widening before rolling back into your head, feverishly flickering your vision. The footsteps grew and receded briskly. The passer-by may not have heard your sensual groans, but it would be hard for anyone to ignore the rattling of the door that Peter hastily pounded you into. Once he was certain the presence was gone, Peter released your lips and you gulped for air salaciously. His mouth dove for your neck, nibbling skillfully at your pulse. With his mouth in such close proximity to your ear, his greedy huffs ringing through your brain.

“Sir, I’m going to-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Peter threatened before biting into your neck.

“Y- yes, si-”

“You better fucking ask for permission before you do.”

You could feel Peter straining inside you. The mere mention of you reaching climax only edged him further to his own.

“Please, sir, please! I need to cum.”

“I know you do, baby. Cum with me. Now.”

Peter’s empty hand clamped around your ribcage before skimming up your chest, kneading your rounded flesh. Between the building pressure in your abdomen, his eager consumption of your pulse and the iron tight grasp on your chest, you slipped briskly over the edge without question.

“God, fucking-” you seethed between your teeth, your chest convexing up towards the ceiling.

Peter made no attempts to conceal his satisfaction, primal, guttural moans flowing from him without hesitation.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N” he panted as he slowed, his hips jerking at random, uncontrolled intervals.

You reached up and tenderly cupped his face in your hand, your fingertips traveling up towards his sweat-drenched forehead. His climax reaching an end, Peter planted a dainty kiss on the tip of your nose. Nothing mattered in this moment except for the blonde orderly before you, still caressing your tired figure.

“You know, you should piss off Dr. Brenner more often,” he smirked. You couldn’t help but smile back, drunk on his effortless eroticism.

“I just might have to now.”

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard x y/n #peter ballard x you #peter ballard smut #001 #001 x you #001 x reader #001 x y/n #001 smut #henry creel #henry creel x reader #henry creel x you #vecna #stranger things #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #fics #my work

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viperbarnes · 2 years

Text

The Itch [1/3]

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: “It seems whatever suppressants HYDRA pumped you with over the years have flushed out of your system at last… you aren’t sick, Sergeant Barnes. You’re an Alpha who hasn’t known an Omega in more than 80 years.”

Warnings: smut smut smut smut smut 18+ PLEASE! also cussing probably, and later the implication of infidelity but sort of not really, (if you have concerns feel free to shoot me an ask and i can explain further!)

A/N: this is just one of two different ABO au’s i’ve been planning for a while teehee, but this is the shorter and more complete one so far! let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Word Count: 3.6k

Once Is Chance

Bucky scrunches his nose in vague distaste, pursing his lips even though he knows it won’t do anything to make him blend into the settings around him any more naturally. He’s not sure how he let himself be talked into this, he hated these modern nightclubs, how loud they were, the flashing lights, the people.

From every direction his senses are assaulted by various scents of those crammed into the underground space with him. Alphas, Omegas, Betas, it seemed like this, and the hundreds of places across the city just like it, was exactly the place to be if you wanted to catch the attention of a mate…. Even just for one night.

Unfortunately that was the exact reason for his attendance tonight, and even more unfortunately, that reason was advised by his doctor.

Bucky Barnes was an Alpha who had gone through just about everything in his over-extended life, and yet somehow he still found his whole face igniting beet-red when his doctor had turned to face him, fingers clasped and an amused smile just waiting to fall out from behind his lips.

“It seems whatever suppressants HYDRA pumped you with over the years have flushed out of your system at last… you aren’t sick, Sergeant Barnes. You’re an Alpha who hasn’t known an Omega in more than 80 years.”

Honestly Bucky thinks he might’ve preferred the reality in which his bolstered immune system was attacked by some super-flu. Instead, he was stuck in this reality, where the only medical instruction he’d been given was to ‘get laid’.

It certainly didn’t help that ever since finding out what his real problem actually was, it was as if he couldn’t properly think about or concentrate on anything without his thoughts devolving. A couple of years ago he would have stubbornly refused to listen to either his doctor or his body, never would have stepped foot into a club full of people like this, but to his chagrin, Bucky had found himself aware of his own growth and healing, marked by the fact he knew this wasn’t something he could handle on his own.

Now Bucky was stuck between wanting to rid himself of the near-constant hardness in his pants, and his own lack of fondness for one night stands. He’d never been a fan, not really, but that had been back in his time. Things seemed even more foriegn and cold nowadays, and despite the many interested omega scents he can pick up from those around him, Bucky’s not entirely sure he even knows how to take a gal home anymore.

He’s so lost in his thoughts, frowning to himself and his whiskey, that he nearly jumps a mile when a hand lands gently on his arm.

Bucky whips his head to the side, aware all of a sudden of a familiar warm, sweet scent to his right, though in his surprise it takes him a moment to fully focus and recognise you. Embarrassment at his lack of cool threatens to pink his cheeks, but he pushes it down in favour of letting his body relax once more.

“Bucky? I thought that was you,” you smile kindly, and let your hand drop from his arm now that you have his attention, and Bucky gladly focuses on you fully, if not to get his mind off of everything else for a few minutes.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” he hears himself ask, happy that you move to take up the previously empty spot next to him at the bar.

Your smile brightens, and your scent is coloured with amusement briefly as you cock your head at him in between hailing down the busy barman. Bucky waits for you to seemingly give up before intervening, his much larger presence bringing the staff towards the two of you at the far end of the bar in a matter of seconds. You throw him a thankful look, and once you’ve ordered, Bucky does too, waving you off as he passes his cash over the counter to cover the both of you.

“I live in New York too, remember?” you reply at last to his question, and Bucky cringes internally, because, yes, now that he’s not shocked by your appearance here, he does in fact remember. You don’t seem to be interested in teasing him much over it, even after he mumbles an apology in his glass.

A strangely comfortable silence falls between you for a moment as you accept your drink from the returning bartender, smiling and thanking him kindly.

Bucky had first met you in Louisiana, at Sarah Wilson’s home. You’d grown up in Delacroix, had been lifelong friends with both the Wilson siblings, and though you now lived and worked in New York, you seemed to take every opportunity you could to return south. Bucky completely understood. He did too.

The Wilson’s had become family to him, and both Sam and Sarah had shuffled around, making space for him in their family, creating tight bonds that would never quite replace those of his own family, but had become something special and unique all of their own. Bucky was protective of them, slipping easily into the role of alpha, especially if Sam couldn’t be around. It had made him wary of folks he didn’t know when they came around Sarah and the boys, but right from the first time he’d met you, he knew you were to be trusted.

In a way you seemed to mirror his own place as an adopted member of the Wilson clan, and maybe that’s why out of the many friends and neighbours he’d been introduced to the past few years, you were the only one who he’d really paid attention to.

That wasn’t to say you’d become close, Bucky still kept himself to himself for the most part, but you’d somehow become a constant for him whenever he returned to Louisiana, so much so that if you couldn’t make it for whatever reason, things felt off.

But he’d only ever seen you in Louisiana.

Despite the both of you living in the same city, Bucky had never really given much thought to you actually being around, somewhere out there.

“So… what are you doing here?” you ask playfully once you’ve taken a good sip of your cocktail and turned to face him again. Bucky tries not to let his eyes drop to where he’s desperate to give you a proper once-over. You were wearing ripped jeans and a silky black lace top that framed your cleavage all too well.

“I, uh…” he blinks his gaze away from you, swallowing thickly and shaking his head. He’d thought he’d hidden his mood fairly well, but either he must have tripped up, or you know him far better than he’d realised, because your hand is back on his arm a second later, your expression now painted with worry.

“Are you alright? You seem…” you trail off, not needing to finish. Bucky shoots you an apologetic glance and downs the rest of his drink quickly. When you take your hand back a moment later, he has to forcibly stop himself from frowning.

“Yeah. Sorry, I’m…” he hesitates for a second longer, and really, he’s not quite sure when he became this comfortable with you.

So, Bucky tells you.

He tells you of his week long struggle, how he’d thought he’d been infected with something on his last mission only for his doctor to turn around and explain to him the truth, what he needed to do, and why that had led him to being here tonight, holding up the end of the bar in a club he was completely out of place in.

He’s glad your concern doesn’t turn into full on pity or worry, he knows deep down that really wouldn’t have helped anything. Instead you listen carefully, your demeanour gradually shifting to one of wry understanding, and when he’s done, you mimic him by downing the remainder of your drink with a solemn nod.

“I know it’s not exactly the same, but I do understand,” you tell him with a slight wince. Bucky tips his chin at you in a silent question, and you roll your eyes a little, moving in a little closer.

“My ex and I broke up three years ago and I haven’t exactly been playing the field since… it gets to you,” you say with a playful nudge to his arm and a soft chuckle.

Bucky nods once, but finds himself looking away from you with a grimace at the thought of you feeling… lonely, in that way.

“It’s so disruptive. I’ll be fine one day, and the next it’s like suddenly all I can think about is–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, another amused smile pulling at your lips.

Bucky hails the bartender and gestures for another round, but acknowledges you with a deep grunt.

“I’m one-hundred and nine years old. I should be able to go for more than three minutes without thinking about sex,” he snarls into his new drink when it arrives, before quickly finishing this one too. He’d turned away from you subconsciously now to face the bar, though predictably his focus remains trained on the space beside him.

You shift on your feet, tipping back your head and letting out a small chortle.

“We’ve been talking for at least three minutes and you seem to have managed it just fine,” you say playfully, shrugging your shoulders.

Bucky snorts.

“I absolutely haven’t,” he replies immediately and without much thought. It’s only when your scent colours with surprise that he realises exactly what he’s told you.

Bucky feels his mouth go dry as he straightens, turning back to face you once again, his mind beginning to race with early alarms of panic.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” the words stumble from his lips, his frown back in full force now as he stresses over the disrespect he’s worried you may have felt.

You blink at him, and the surprise seems to wipe from both your face and your aura. You shake your head at him, at his apology, and take another sip of your drink. Bucky watches you keenly for several moments, his shoulders squaring again when you carefully adjust to face him even more.

“It’s okay, Bucky, really,” you say, your tone indecipherable, but you seem unable to hold his eye contact now.

“Besides, you know me, I’m familiar. It’s only natural,” you continue after a beat, meeting his gaze for a few seconds before letting it swing back around at anything but him.

Bucky swallows thickly.

Despite your assurances, he can’t help but berate himself.

He watches as you take another sip of your drink, but this time as you replace it back on the bar, your demeanour shifts to something he can’t quite pick out.

“I mean hell, if we both need to get laid, why not someone you already know?” you say slowly, carefully, voice full of feigned casual-ness, and at last you lift your eyes to meet his again.

Bucky blinks as he processes your words, not bothering to push down his own surprise at your apparent suggestion.

“I– I’m not sure that’s a good idea–” he begins, even as his gaze briefly drops to the exposed skin of your neck and up again, but you cut him off.

“Buck, were you really going to take a stranger home tonight?” you ask bluntly, a little more confident and a little too knowing. It’s not really a question, either.

You both already know the answer.

“Besides,” You lean in a little closer to him then, close enough that he can clearly smell your perfume on your neck, and when he can’t help but look down at you, his eyes drop even lower for just a second.

“You’d be doing me a favour, really.”

—

Bucky pushes open his apartment door, holding it for you as you step past him and into the dimly lit entryway.

You seemed quiet now, though not anxious. The tension had only grown on the trip back to his place from the club, and Bucky isn’t so sure he knows what to do with it anymore.

He helps you with your coat, and you both shuffle about for a moment kicking your shoes off before Bucky turns away from you briefly to lock his door, and tries to use the spare seconds to figure out how to break the silence.

When he turns to face you again, he finds you staring, the feeling in his chest only growing when he takes in the desire painted clearly across your scent.

Even so, he remains still when you step towards him, your hands reaching out to skim over his forearms, up and to his shoulders, making flesh and vibranium alike tingle at the sensation.

He can’t remember the last time he’d been touched like this. Touched solely for the tenderness of it, for the pleasure or if. Your fingertips move appreciatively over his shoulders and up behind his neck as you step even closer, and Bucky breaks his stillness to let his own hands come to rest at your waist, an invitation for you to come into his space fully, helped along by the barest hint of a tug.

He’s glad you’d made the first move, if only because it gives him the certainty to take the lead properly, like his brain had been begging him to do since you’d sidled up to him at the bar.

Bucky leans down to brush his nose against yours, relishing in the way your eyes flutter shut at the contact, relieved to see he’s not the only one affected by the need for intimacy. He surprises himself when he slips his hand higher up your back, pressing you against him further, but is rewarded when you shift your chin upwards ever so slightly, a silent demand to hurry up, or a subconscious request. Either way, he certainly doesn’t have the self-control to make you wait any longer.

Bucky dips his lips to yours without hesitation, and feels his whole body light up immediately. If he’d thought he could read you before, now he felt like he could tell exactly what you were thinking, your bodies simultaneously falling into step with one another as your kiss becomes more heated.

You can’t help but moan against his mouth when his hands start gripping and pulling at your clothes, and you do your best to keep up, even when you begin to stumble back together further into his apartment.

Your back finds a mattress just as your jeans are tugged from your legs, and for a moment as you’re parted you watch as Bucky shrugs quickly out of his shirt and deftly pulls apart his belt, his own pants shoved away and discarded beyond the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly you move in tandem further up the bed as Bucky follows you down to the plush surface, his body somehow feeling even better now that his weight was on top of you. You hadn’t exactly gone into detail earlier when you’d told Bucky that you sympathised with his problem, but the truth is, you think you understand a little too well.

You’d always been an omega who craved physicality, but these last few years had been rough on you, knowing what it was like to fall into place with an alpha, and then suddenly no longer have that… well, like you’d said; it gets to you.

You’d dabbled with seeing others here and there but nothing really clicked like it was supposed to, like it was right now as Bucky gently knees your legs apart and settles between them. Your brain turns to mush. Mushier than it already was, and you don’t even try to stop yourself from gripping onto him tighter, or from letting your thigh wrap around his.

He grunts a little, but drops himself fully to meet you chest to chest, held up only by his forearms now caged around your head and you feel consumed by him already. He kisses you again, and reaches down to wrap his arm around your leg, hoisting it even higher so that it curls fully around his hip, holding it there as he begins to grind against you.

You’re panting even before he enters you, slowly, but all at once in a way that makes your back arch off the bed and your hips twist up to try and meet him even closer. You find yourself enamoured with the way his face drops into the crook of your neck, and he flexes his hips ever so slightly, driving himself deeper. You can feel for yourself how tight you are, how much he was stretching you open around him, and you appreciate the way he doesn’t feel the need to pause everything to check on you. It was always nice when an alpha did, of course, but the primal part of your brain relishes in the fact Bucky seems satisfied that you’ll take him regardless.

His first proper thrust levels you completely, and you find yourself scrambling to grab hold of him as your brain seems to boot up again right as he gives you another, and another until he’s setting a relentless pace. You’d always had an inkling Bucky was a fairly old-fashioned, take-control kind of alpha, and you’re vindicated in the best way possible when he swoops up your free thigh to bring it equal with your other, digging his own knees more intently into the mattress, before proceeding to fuck you even deeper.

Bucky seemed to be in his own little world right now, and you honestly don’t blame him after his eighty year dry spell. He was still fucking you within an inch of your life, and you’re fully prepared to take care of yourself in the meantime. Blindly you reach a shaking hand between you to begin rubbing quick circles over your clit, already feeling yourself start to pull closer to the edge when you feel the man above you growl deeply in his chest.

Without ever stopping driving into you, he shifts his weight to his right hand, dragging his left away from your thigh to shove aside the hand you have between you, replacing your fingers and your movements with his own. In your surprise you find yourself gripping his wrist as his fingers deftly begin to work you over frantically, somehow matching perfectly your own pace and pressure until he has you keening.

You can’t help but gasp breathlessly when the coil building in you begins to tighten, your nails biting into the skin of his wrist as you grip him even firmer than before.

“Fuck– f-fuck,” your voice tumbles weakly out of you as your eyes screw shut, but you still feel when Bucky drops his face back down to yours, nose nudging at your own like he’d done earlier and somehow you know that just like he was earlier, he was watching you now, too.

“Come on, come on ‘mega,” his voice is raw and rough, his breath hot on your cheek, words drawing out a whine from you.

God, when was the last time an alpha had called you ‘omega’ while fucking you? It’s inherently territorial and possessive in a way that you’re unprepared for, and the second he utters it again, throaty and gruff, you’re gone, head tipping back, fingers grasping desperately at his skin while he fucks you through, captures your lips again and swallows your sounds.

Your body shakes and quivers beneath him, but his weight stops you moving too much, at least until he’s suddenly pulling away from you. You’ve barely let out a gasp of disapproval before he’s got you face-down, ass-up in the pillows, the warmth of his body hardly leaving yours as he drapes himself over your back, fucking back into you quickly in this new position.

Vaguely you feel a flash of your previous vindication, but it fades pretty fast when he starts moving again. One of his hands lays flat against your back, slipping along your skin until it’s splayed between your shoulder blades, pressing you down, making you practically drool. His other grips lightly at your hip, and daring to disrupt his rhythm, you blindly reach back for him, feeling the way his hips stutter and his pressure on you lifts as you grab at his hand. You don’t have much range of movement, but you tug on his wrist before motioning to the back of your neck.

You can almost picture Bucky’s expression as he realises what you want, but the image is wiped from your mind when the pressure between your shoulders returns a little harder now, and a second hand wraps itself around the back of your neck. You shudder subconsciously at the feeling, biting into your lower lip as he picks up his tempo once more.

This time when you reach out to rub your clit, he doesn’t stop you. You can tell that he’s close now, but you tumble over the edge before him, triggering his own release. You think your eyes roll back when he begins gently squeezing the back of your neck as he gives you several final deep thrusts, and at last you feel both your bodies sag in relief.

Exhaustion fills your limbs with lead, and expands your chest with a deeply satiated feeling that you haven’t had in a long, long time. Distantly, you feel Bucky pull back from you, and you wait as he slips away for a wash cloth.

You wonder if he realises that he’s humming low and comfortingly as he wipes a warm cloth over your skin, cleaning you up diligently. He does it again when your knee gives as he helps you up so he can pull back his covers. His hand tightens around your arm, but he guides you under the sheets wordlessly, following behind you closely.

You shift a little to get comfortable, and the last thing you feel before you drop off completely, is Bucky wrapping himself around you, and his soothing hum as you settle.

#bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/yn #bucky barnes x yn #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #alpha!bucky

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