#and the ones who just want to keep busy will wind up here

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn���t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

previous |

Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03

@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin

@sofiparallel

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller angst #infidelity joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel x you #joel x oc #angst fic #cheater joel miller

[mpregdimension]

I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.

"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.

"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."

I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.

"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.

Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."

Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.

"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."

Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins. 

Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.

My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.

"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."

He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.

I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.

"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."  

A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.

Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?

#mpreg #male pregnancy #mpregnancy #mpreg belly #mpreg birth #mpreg labor #mpreg kink #mpreg story #pregnant man #hombre embarazado #embarazo masculino #mpregdimension

[yuri-is-online]

Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.

Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?

Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?

Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying

ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.

No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.

Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.

Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?

Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)

Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?

Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...

(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)

Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-

Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.

Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #overblot boys

[grinchwrapsupreme]

i'm not saying this to make any sort of point but as someone who works in canadian theatre, the wga strike is going to have an interesting effect on live entertainment too, like i know multiple people who have lost their jobs or will lose their jobs soon because so much american television is produced here and obviously the iatse union is standing with the wga which it should and i also know that when film crew are out of work like this they often turn to theatre because it's a different local of the same union (and a lot of them started in theatre) and they wind up pushing permits out of work because film crew are usually members which means they get first dibs on all calls even if they don't have much live entertainment experience and even though attitudes in theatre and film are VERY different. And i really really hope the wga gets everything they want, they deserve that and more, but i also hope it happens quickly before young iatse permits get priced out of this city and we get into into another situation like the one right after the pandemic

#when the pandemic hit and live entertainment pretty much died for a few years #most established theatre iatse guys moved into film so when theatre started up again there was this huge crisis #and iatse was so desperate for permits they were literally advertising for them on facebook and weren't requiring advocates or anything #which is a massive fucking deal and also how i got my permit #but it also means theres a ton of experienced film iatse members who aren't averse to jumping ship to a familiar field #and all those new permits who found their opening in that crisis are now in danger of being out of work #in the most expensive city in the country #and as someone who works at a theatre that's labelled a learning theatre by the union (we get all the green permits) #it's going to be very interesting to see what happens next #fortunately we don't pay as well as many of the other venues in the city #but we're more likely to offer steady work #so film guys who want cash will take the jobs at the high paying venues doing dailies and weeklies #and the ones who just want to keep busy will wind up here #i have two very good friends who work for the film union #one decided to take a vacation during the strike (good for her) and the other was let go from star trek and intends to go back to theatre #but knowing the attitude of the well established members and people who got used to film there are going to be Problems #so depending on how long the strike lasts this could actually have some serious ramifications for a lot of people outside of the wga #again i'm not trying to make any sort of point here just getting my thoughts in order in the wake of all these tumblr posts about the strik

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons

I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.

Warnings: SMUT

- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.

- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.

- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.

- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.

- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanons #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar smut #hazbin x reader #x reader #x female reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer smut

[cosmos-coma]

My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________________

Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.” 

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened. 

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 

He should have listened. 

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”  

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 

“Oh. I-” 

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 

“I can’t do this without you…” 

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

#bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x Y/n #James buchanan barnes x Reader #winter soldier!bucky x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x y/n #Winter soldier!Bucky x you #bucky barnes

[babyleostuff]

today was (not) a fairytale

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . mingyu forgets about your anniversary

mingyu was a busy guy, that was obvious. but one thing he was never too busy for was you. it didn’t matter if it was just a can you couldn’t open, or a spider that had to be killed - mingyu was always there for you, no questions asked. to be honest, you could call him and tell him you wanted a hug, and he’d drop whatever he was doing just so he could trap you in a bear hug for the rest of the evening. that was how whipped he was. 

and now he was late. two hours. 

at first you thought something had happened - you texted some of the boys to ask if they knew where he was, you called his mom - you even checked the latest news, worried to see any updates about a car accident. 

nothing. 

sitting at an expensive restaurant full of people by yourself was humiliating enough, but what bothered you even more was that it was supposed to be your anniversary dinner. mingyu never missed any milestones of your relationship, he even bought you small gifts on the date you had your first kiss. 

then it hit you - his location. quickly pulling your phone out of your bag, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

he was at seungcheol’s place. 

not bothering to call your boyfriend - it wasn’t like he was answering any of your calls before, so why bother - you called the oldest boy, fiddling with your napkin that you wouldn’t be probably using tonight either way. 

“hey, is everything okay?” seungcheol asked immediately. it wasn’t often that you called him, especially at such a late hour, so he figured something must have happened. 

“is mingyu with you?” you heard some shuffling in the background, and noises that sounded a lot like your boyfriend and hoshi. 

“um, yeah. you want me to pass him the phone?” you could clearly hear seungcheol’s confusion in his voice, but you weren’t in the “shitting rainbows and unicorns” mood, so you didn’t even bother with hiding your annoyance. 

“fan-fucking-tastic.” 

you couldn’t believe he actually forgot about your anniversary. you had been planning this date for such a long time now. getting a reservation at this restaurant wasn’t easy, even mingyu had to pull a few strings and flash a couple of polite smiles, so you could come here on the exact day of your milestone. you prepared matching outfits for god’s sake. how could have he forgotten? 

“tell him not to come back home tonight,” you said, and hung up the phone before seungcheol could say anything. 

you spend the whole ride home trying to keep your tears from falling. you didn’t know what was worse - sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for someone who was over at his friend’s house drinking soju, or that the love of your life forgot about something so important. 

the second you got inside your apartment you practically ripped off the dress you were wearing, suddenly almost disgusted by the feel of it on your skin. your shoes joined soon after, and not even five minutes after getting back home you got changed into PJs (for once not being mingyu’s shirt), and poured yourself a glass of wine. 

“happy anniversary i quess.” 

when you were about to turn off all of the lights in the living room for the night, you heard the door open and close with much more force than needed. 

“baby? baby, where ar-,” he emerged from around the corner, stopping right in front of you. you took in his form - hair tousled from the wind, his shirt from practice still on, and shoes on his feet, which never happened - mingyu never wore shoes inside the house. huh, he must’ve been in a real hurry to get here. 

“i’m so sorry, i got here as quickly as possible,” he said, a little out of breath. you had to stop the urge to laugh in his face because what the hell? 

“too bad you didn’t bother to show up where you really were supposed to be, mingyu,” you snickered, anger radiating off of you. your boyfriend knew he was in deep shit the second seungcheol shot him a worried look, and how he would make it up to you, he had no idea. 

“i know, baby-,” 

“don’t call me that. you don’t deserve it mingyu,” you pointed a finger at his chest. just then he noticed you got your nails done to match the design on his tie, and he could swear he died a little bit at that moment. “do you have any idea how humiliated i felt sitting there like an idiot, waiting for my fucking boyfriend who decided to go out with his friends on our anniversary?” 

“i called your friends, your family. i thought you got into an accident for fucks sake,” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as you finally felt something else than just anger. the thought of losing mingyu wasn’t something you wanted to think about on your anniversary night. “i was so excited for this, and you knew it,” you took in a shaky inhale, once again feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.  

it took everything from you not to hug mingyu, he looked so… sad, and just so defeated, and that wasn’t something you were used to seeing on your boyfriend’s face. 

“there are a thousand excuses on my mind right now, but none of them will excuse my behaviour,” he sighed, his lower lip trembling. please don't cry, please don’t cry. “i forgot,” he said, straightening his back a little. “i simply forgot, and nothing i do will make up for it.” 

tears clouded your eyes, and you couldn’t help when they started falling down your cheeks, probably ruining the makeup you put so much effort into. if you knew you’d end up crying on your anniversary night you’d use a waterproof mascara. mingyu hesitantly raised his hand, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him, but when he saw you didn’t move an inch, he started wiping off the tears of your face with a gentle swipe of his thumb, almost as if you were about to fall apart. 

“say something. no, yell at me,” he said, and put your hand against his chest. “you can even hit me,” mingyu said, pleading in his eyes. “please, just do something.” 

“i don’t want to yell at you,” you sniffled, wiping off the rest of the tears yourself. “and i definitely don’t want to hit you. i just-,” you looked at him and only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes. did his face get slimmer too? “when was the last time you slept?”

he looked a bit taken aback by your question, considering he was begging you to hit him like a second ago. “to be honest, i don’t know, but i took some naps in the practice room. that’s not import-,”  

“when was the last time you ate?” you interrupted him again. 

his eyes softened because there was no way he just stood you up on one of the most important days of the year, and you were asking him about his well being. “i don't know.” 

i don’t know. hearing those words from a person who inhaled food like a vacuum, and could never say no to a snack broke your heart. how did you not notice how exhausted he was before? 

“oh, mingyu,” you said, tearing up again. “why didn’t you tell me, i would’ve brought you some food.” 

“i know, but i didn’t want to burden you. i knew i’d be fine,” he said, voice gentle. “besides, that’s not important now. let’s talk about how big of an asshole i am,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, tilting it more upwards. 

“how can you say it’s not important?” you murmured, nuzzling your face further into his palm. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you without food for longer than an hour.” 

“hey, i don’t eat that much,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, and seeing mingyu’s face lit up at your, albeit quiet, laughter, you felt the anger leaving you for good.  

maybe you were too selfish? all you lived for for the past week was the date, but in the process you managed to somehow miss how exhausted your boyfriend was. yes, he did forget, but he was so overworked lately, you couldn’t really blame him, right? and it wasn’t like you were a saint either, you missed some dates in the past too. 

“whatever you’re thinking, drop it,” he said sternly. “don’t try to make any excuses for me. i forgot, okay? it’s all my fault.” 

technically you knew you had every right to be furious at him, hell - an hour you cursed him out with every curse word you knew, but maybe it wasn't the time to think straight, and just give the light of your life a second chance. “i don’t want to fight,” you said, wrapping your hands around his wrists. “and we still have,” you looked over at the clock, “two hours before midnight. we have the wine, and i think i have a pizza in the freezer.” 

mingyu shook his head in disbelief. “there’s no way you’re real.” leaning in, he placed a peck on your cheek, filling your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling. “you look beautiful by the way,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. “i’m really sorry.” 

“i know, gyu. i know,” you whispered. “and mingyu?” 

“yeah?” 

“you can call me “baby” again.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom

#seventeen x you #svt reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen carat #seventeen reactions #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen kpop #seventeen headcanons #seventeen reaction #seventeen recs #mingyu #mingyu angst #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #mingyu svt #mingyu scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt

[flanaganfilm]

Do you have any “don’t meet your heroes” stories from working in Hollywood?

Absolutely. Hollywood really is a place like no other. If you grow up loving cinema, certain people can take on mythic status in your imagination. Actors, filmmakers; they are larger than life. They become idols in the truest sense - an image that is actually worshipped. But Hollywood is actually full of very weird human beings who have been lucky enough to make their living in a world of make-believe. A huge percentage of the people who work in this industry are strange birds, unsuited for working anywhere else.

Some of our biggest stars wouldn't last ten minutes working a real job; some of our most exalted filmmakers collapse inward if they're in a crowded room. They can have unusual talents, or beauty, or unique perspectives and abilities that have propelled them to various levels of success, or even stardom, but they're just normal, neurotic people.

And success, fame, and money can really twist people. It can be like radiation. They can go full Gollum from it.

But most people who work in Hollywood are not stars at all. The vast majority of people who work here are not rich, not famous. Most are hardworking craftsmen and craftswomen who are fighting every day to make a living, scraping by the best they can in an industry that is brutal, impersonal, and impenetrable. But every single person in this business - whether they are superstars or not - are just ordinary people. They're insecure, anxious, and prone to all of the failings we mortals are prone to. Some of them are awesome; some of them are assholes. But most of the people here (even the superstars) quietly feel like they don't belong, or that they don't deserve it, or that their sheer ordinariness will be discovered any minute. In fact, it's the people who seem to feel the opposite - those rare people who feel that they DO belong here, and deserve the lifestyle this industry can afford, who are inevitably the least likable ones I've met.

As I've been lucky enough to keep working in this business, I've met a lot of the people who I idolized along the way. Filmmakers and actors who I admire so much, whose work has shaped the trajectory of my life without them knowing it. I've been starstruck every time, and I am still am - I stammer, I freeze, and I kick myself for what I say, or don't say, or how I said it. I'm not good at it. I have acute social anxiety, and when you throw me at someone I admire, I turn into a blubbering idiot. They say "don't meet your heroes" because you may (likely will) be disappointed by just how ordinary they truly are. Or worse, they may even turn out to be people you wouldn't want to interact with in normal circumstances - your heroes might be people you wouldn't want to invite to coffee. The persona you have admired is a product in itself, something you bought, something you have taken home and displayed proudly in your imagination... but the human being behind that persona is full of all the ordinary failings. That can be really hard to reconcile. So yeah, a long-winded way of saying that I've had the experience of meeting people I admired a great deal only to be disappointed, or worse. I've got some nightmare stories in there where the actual person violently shattered the idol I'd built in my imagination. I won't share those stories, there's little point in that, but instead I'll talk about the rare exceptions - the few heroes I've met who were every bit as awesome as I'd hoped they'd be. They may say "never meet your heroes," but they haven't met Mark Hamill. I worked with Mark on The Fall of the House of Usher, and he is one of my favorite people. Kind, generous, humble, and so, so funny. I was nervous and excited to meet Mark for the obvious reasons, because of the hero he was in my imagination - but I got to meet Mark the actor, the father, the husband, the humanitarian, and the friend. Guillermo Del Toro - one of my biggest heroes, his work has meant so much to me. And I was terrified to meet him. But he is one of the most joyful, honest, sweet-natured people I've met in the business, and his love for movies is infectious. For me, the man himself exceeded the myth.

I've been lucky to meet other exceptions to this rule, heroes of mine who exceeded my expectations - Ewan McGregor, Mick Garris, Brian Henson, Heather Langenkamp, Henry Thomas - and yeah, I've had the other experience too. But I try to focus on the exceptions. It can be unhealthy to idolize people - unhealthy for you, and unhealthy for them. But it's truly awesome when someone is even more amazing than you imagined.

#never meet your heroes most of the time #except Mark Hamill

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

TXT tucking you in before leaving for a night schedule

Fluff, no warnings!

Please let me know which one is your favourite!

☆ gender neutral reader

Soobin

It takes Soobin longer than he would care to admit to leave the couch, pressing one last kiss to your face before pulling away - no wait, just one more - before untangling his arms from around you and getting to his feet. He glances back at you on his way to get his jacket and you look so lonely there by yourself now, you pout at each other. There’s just one more thing he has to do before he can put on his shoes and go. You think he’s coming back for another kiss while he puts on his jacket, but when he raises it, it comes down and over you. He tucks it around your shoulders and you slip your arms through the sleeves, wearing it back to front. It’s big enough on you to act as a blanket, bonus, it smells like him. He smiles down at you and strokes your hair, and now he really has to go because he’s getting a call from his driver who is downstairs waiting.

Yeonjun

You exit the bathroom, all warm from your shower, into your bedroom and notice something strange. Your pillowcase was always white, and now it’s black. Your attention shifts to your boyfriend who stands at the end of your bed, smiling at you. He’ll tuck you in, he says. You climb into bed, eyeing the pillow again. Wasn’t it white? It’s his shirt, Yeonjun tells you, so you can fall asleep imagining it’s his chest your head is laying on. His eyes have that sparkle, his grin wide, the way he always looks when he does something cheesy like this, as he pulls the covers up around you. You turn to kiss him, but he’s leaning over to your nightstand, the tv suddenly turning on with your favourite movie ready to play on the screen.

Beomgyu

He pulls his arm out from under you ever so carefully, retreating from the bed so slowly it would look as if he was moving in slow motion; the sheets sound so loud to him when he’s trying to be quiet. Ten minutes ago you were chatting together, until he was talking and getting no reply; you were out like a light. He had told you that you didn’t have to stay awake and keep him company until his schedule, but you had insisted on spending as much time with him as you could get. Now he has to leave, but you’re laying on top of the duvet and he won’t be here to keep you warm and he doesn’t want you to get cold and wake up. He tiptoes out of the room and dashes to the cupboard, retrieves the fluffiest blanket of all and comes quietly back to spread it gently over you. You look so peaceful and adorable that he wants to kiss your cheek goodbye but he won’t risk it, backing towards the door and, with one final look, turns out the light. He can’t wait to come home.

Taehyun

You always have a later dinner on the nights Taehyun has a schedule. He’s always said you don’t have to wait and eat when he does, but you insist on having dinner with him. When you’re done eating, you sit and chat for a while, until it’s time for him to head off to work. He offers to help you tidy up the dishes, but you tell him that you’re going to put them away and head to bed - you usually go to bed early on the nights Taehyun works because you tend to wake up when he comes home very late. Saying goodbye, he slips his shoes on at the door and then he’s gone. You busy yourself with the plates, cleaning and drying, so much quicker a job with only dishes for two, and just when you’ve closed them inside the cupboard, you hear the door unlocking again. You turn with a smile, asking what he’s forgotten. This, he says, and scoops you up in his arms with a laugh, your arms winding around his neck in surprise, and carries you towards the bedroom. With one hand he pulls the covers back, then slides you gently into bed. His eyes are warm as ever as he tucks you in, resting his forehead against yours before kissing you. He really has to go now, he tells you, but he’ll be back to perform his big spoon duties in a few hours.

Huening Kai

He starts out by bringing just one of the plushies from his bed, placing it beside you under the covers. But before he knows it, whether because he wants to drag this out and not leave yet or because of the way you smile and snuggle the toy against your face, he makes another trip and comes back with five more in his arms. He strategically places them - one on either side of your middle, one on either side of your legs, and one on the end of the bed, “standing guard”, he explains.

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

#txt imagines #boyfriend!txt #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fluff #soobin fluff #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #taehyun x reader #taehyun fluff #taehyun imagines #huening kai imagines #huening kai fluff #hueningkai x reader #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #sfw

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Aus Grand Prix Special

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE REST OF THE SERIES, READ AT OWN RISK

1.8K

Series Masterlist

AUS GP, 2025 (two years after the beginning of the story):

You don't you stress until you've tried to wrangle two hyperactive seven year olds into a car. "Liv, c'mon. We're going to see you dad."

For the fifth time, Olivia climbed out of the car. She ran back towards the house for something she definitely didn't need. "Muuuuum," Milo called from the back seat. "Can we go now?"

"One second, Milo," Y/N called as she put their things in the trunk of the car. As soon as she shut the door of the trunk she was back in the house, calling for Olivia. "Liv, let's go!" She called up the stairs.

"But I need my hat!"

When Y/N arrived at Olivia's bedroom she was searching through her drawers. "What hat, Livvy?" She asked as she searched through the top of her wardrobe, where Olivia couldn't reach.

"The one uncle Lando got me for Christmas," she said.

Y/N knew exactly what hat Olivia was looking for. It was custom made bucket hat, made to match Daniels helmet with a 3 on the top. Olivia had worn it for every race they had attended, had almost lost it in the wind at Bahrain.

Y/N knew exactly where the hat was. Olivia had taken it in for show and tell at school and it was still in her bag. She pulled it out of the flower decorated bag and handed it to Olivia. "Ready to go now?"

She nodded and followed her future step-mom down to the car. While Y/N locked the front door, Olivia climbed into the back of the car beside Milo. Y/N climbed into the drivers seat and the three of them set off.

The year before the four of them had travelled to the Grand Prix together. Daniel had driven, singing along to the music Y/N had put on. It was one of her favourite memories. This year he had driven up with Scotty James. She couldn't be mad, she had seen the videos of them having so much fun posted all over social media.

As they drove along, the music stopped and her phone started ringing through the hands free system in the car. Y/N used the button on her steering wheel to answer and Daniels voice came through. "Hi honey, are you guys on your way?" He asked.

"We're about half an hour away, Danny," she called. From the back of the car the kids let out a chorus of 'hi's'. "Are we meeting you at the Red Bull hospitality?"

"Yeah, hun. Max and I are waiting."

There was a quiet hi, from someone Y/N could only assume was Max. "Tell him we all say hello," she said to her fiancé, who quickly passed on the message.

"Baby, I've got to go," he said. "Love you guys!"

"Love you too!" The three of them replied before the call ended.

Just as she had said, they arrived at the hotel half an hour later. They could have stayed home and watched the live coverage, but they wanted to give Daniel as much support as they could, so Daniel got himself booked into a hotel room with enough space for all of them.

He had been there since Wednesday, due to media duties and such. Y/N stayed back to work and get the kids to and from school. But they had all taken the Friday off to watch the first of the practices from the Red Bull garage.

They checked themselves into the hotel room, getting the key Daniel had left by the front desk, and headed to the track. There was no point in driving, and it was close enough that they could walk.

Milo and Olivia led the way to the track. Y/N made sure they all stayed together as they walked. It was incredibly busy as they pushed their way through towards the paddock.

Actually, it was Scotty that spotted them. He waved Y/N over and she moved the kids through the crowd, towards him. With Scotty's help, they got into the paddock. "You have much traffic on the way up here?" Scotty asked as he led the three of them over to the Red Bull Garage.

She shook her head. "Not until this point," she said, keeping one eye on the kids as they led the way once again. They were just too excited, there was no point containing them. "How is he feeling?"

It was Daniel's second year back in the Red Bull, and everybody knew he was nervous. He had seen just how quickly Red Bull had tossed their other drivers to the side. He'd managed to secure a contract for another year, but that could all change with the snap of someone's fingers.

They got to the hospitality unit, where Daniel was waiting outside. He took pictures for fans and signed the things that were shoved in his face. Staff parted the fans like the red sea to allow Y/N, Scotty and the kids through.

Olivia immediately ran to her father. "Badger!" He called as he hugged her.

He held his other arm out for Milo, who joined the hug. "Hi dad," he said, grinning.

Milo didn't realise what he had said, not right away. And Daniel sure wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. It was Olivia who giggled at her future brother. "You just called him dad," she laughed, and Milo's face scrunched up in embarrassment.

"No I didn't," he insisted.

"Yes you did! Yes you did!"

But Milo went running to his mother. Olivia let go of her dad and went inside of the hospitality unit to find her Uncle Max. Daniel turned his attention to his bride to be. "My lady," he said as she stepped towards him.

"Danny." She was aware of the cameras on the two of them as she stepped towards him. Flashes went off, videos were recorded on fans phones as she pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The two of them never had much a chance at privacy. There very first kiss all those years ago was televised. They'd tried, to give her and the kids a normal life, but their attempts were futile. They'd given up.

With his hand on the small of her back, Daniel let her and Milo into the hospitality unit. "Are you hungry?" He asked, immediately going to fix her and Milo something to eat. He would have gotten Olivia something, but she was eating a muffin as she spoke to her uncle Max, no doubt about karting.

The family of four spent what time they could together before Daniel jumped in the number 3 Red Bull car for the first practice session. This one wasn't about speed, Y/N had come to learn. It was about testing different set ups, not about setting the fastest time.

FP2 that afternoon was about showing what you could do. And Danny did. Y/N, Olivia and Milo watched on as Daniel set the fastest time in FP2 over and over again. He and Max raced each other. Not in the literal sense, but it was a competition between the two of who could get the fastest lap.

After FP2 they were free to head back to the hotel. Daniel drove them back to the hotel. While Milo and Olivia took turns in showering and getting changed for dinner, Y/N and Daniel laid together. He sat on the bed and she laid against him, her hand against his racing heart. "How are you feeling about tomorrow?" She asked quietly.

Daniel sucked in a breath. The smile that played on his face wasn't a smile at all. It was more of a grimace as he looked up at the ceiling. "Nervous, definitely. But I'm glad you guys are gonna be there to support," he said and leaned down to kiss her.

They had a lovely dinner that night. It wasn't often that all four of them got to go out and do things like this, not with Daniels racing schedule. They had a wonderful time. The kids ordered whatever they wanted, which meant the biggest deserts in the place. Daniel was a lot stricter with what he was eating, considering it was a race weekend.

After their dinner, the four of them headed back to the hotel. Bellies full and incredibly happy, they quickly fell asleep. Daniel held Y/N through the night. He missed her on race weekends like this.

She woke up first. Bile rose in her throat and she struggled out of Daniels grip. As she had every morning since Wednesday, she got up and ran to the bathroom to throw up.

In the close quarters of the hotel room, everybody could hear what was happening in the bathroom. They all woke up to the sounds of Y/N throwing up into the toilet. Daniel was up and out of bed in an instant. He raced to her and immediately held her hair out of her face, rubbing her back soothingly as she heaved.

"Baby," Daniel said softly as she sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth. Tears touched her eyelashes, as they always did when she threw up.

Daniel opened his arms, but she didn't throw herself into them. Instead she washed her face and cleaned her teeth, just as she had every other morning. "C'mon, Y/N, speak to me," he said softly.

She shut her eyes, steadying herself against the sink. "I think I'm just sick," she said and turned to walked out of the bathroom.

But Daniel stopped her. He grabbed her arm softly and pulled her into his embrace, his hand moving up and down her back. "You'd tell me if... right?"

She nodded her head, letting herself rest against him.

They didn't see the two little heads peaking into the bathroom. "Mum?" Milo called, somewhat timidly. Daniel hadn't heard him speak like this in years.

Y/N and Daniel pulled away from each other. They looked at the kids as they walked into the bathroom. "Is everything okay?" Olivia asked, eyes holding concern.

Both she and Daniel nodded. "It's nothing to worry about, guys. I promise." she said.

They all stayed in the bathroom just a minute longer. Y/N was the first to leave. They all followed her out and crawled back into their beds.

But Y/N and Daniel didn't sleep. They laid there, waiting for the kids to fall asleep before Y/N turned towards him. "I think I should go and get a pregnancy test," she whispered, snuggling close to his chest.

Daniel couldn't hide the way his face lit up.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[fuckmyskywalker]

𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞! — 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

18+ smut, stripper!reader x dilf!anakin, age gap, lap dance, mutual masturbation, fem!reader/afab!reader | word count: 2.8k (not proofread).

Everyone say "thank you Anya".

After a nasty divorce, Anakin Skywalker wanted nothing to do with dates— let alone random hookups. Call him outdated or old-fashioned, but Anakin firmly believed in marriage. Maybe he just had bad luck. He has better things to worry about! His children, his company, his 850 credit card score, and… keeping up with his overly cheerful assistant.

Who somehow, managed to convince him to visit the best nightclub in town— and by nightclub, she meant strip club. 

Standing outside the bright building, Anakin wondered how many neon signs were too much. He flickered his cigarette with his thumb, dialing his assistant’s number and watching the ashes fly with the wind, he just wished his hopes didn’t fly that easily. After a few rings, she picked up. “I’m here,” Anakin informed her, feeling as if he was about to start a super-secret mission and he was calling HQ. Lisseth is right, he stays too much at home watching cheesy, 90s TV shows. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Is it obnoxiously bright?” Lisseth asked from the other side of the line, and Anakin discerned the faint click of a lighter. 

“Yes.”

“Then you’re in the right place.”

“Can you repeat why am I here again?” Anakin asked, rubbing his forehead and throwing the cigarette away. 

“Because you are lonely, divorced, and old?” His assistant replied, presumably smoking as well.

“I should fire you.”

“But you won’t,” He didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking. Lisseth was right, she was one of the few people besides Obi-Wan Kenobi— his business partner— who dared to say things straight, and people like that were a nice change in a world where everyone fights for your favor. “Go inside, give it a chance. You deserve a change of scenery. I know you are the committed type. Give yourself a chance.”

Anakin hesitated again, just like he did when he agreed when the young woman texted him the address, and when he called the cab. He had no idea why she would suggest this place from the many—many strip clubs in the city, but he knew better than to question her. He looked around, it was not like he would care if someone recognized him— he just… didn’t want to be recognized. Big difference, or at least that was what Anakin kept repeating.

“Hello?” Lisseth said which brought Anakin back to his senses. He was overthinking it. How can you overthink walking into a strip club? Men do it all the time! “Are you alive?”

“I am.”

“Good. Now get inside, I think there’s an ATM next to the bathroom. I don’t remember— and dial me if you need anything, I’ll try to stay awake.”

Anakin hung up the call, taking a deep breath and pushing the black door open. Multiple times he had heard his associates talk about this place; how the drinks are great and the girls are better— which perhaps was a reason why Anakin was so reluctant. If a married man found this place appealing, he couldn’t imagine what it would have in storage for a divorced man. 

Inside the club, the neon lights were far worse. His eyesight wasn’t bad but the dazzled effect was overwhelming. Anakin fought the urge to rub his eyes, he didn’t want to look that old— so he just brushed the wrinkles off his suit and approached the bar. The bartender eyed up curiously but simply greeted him. The place was crowded but it was somehow comfortable to navigate, he saw a few girls but he felt somewhat strange to stare at them for long. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore— he wasn’t able to see them as a piece of meat like he used to (last time he did he got his first and only wife knocked up).  So he just thanked the bartender for his whiskey and took a long sip, hoping it would ease the knot in his stomach. He was a fast drinker, and he was halfway done with the glass when he heard a voice behind him and a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your hand on his shoulder was gentle, but Anakin was aware of the salacious undertone in your voice. It was all fake, part of your job. Looking over said shoulder, his blue eyes met your face, and probably for the first time in your life working in the strip club— you found yourself speechless. You have never seen eyes in such a shade of blue, so deep and so easily to lose yourself in. Your glossy lips went dry for a second and you weren’t sure if he felt the same. 

“It is not,” He replied, grabbing your hand and guiding you to the empty stool next to him. His hand was strong and warm, too polite for a man who was here to watch women half naked. You took a seat next to him just like you intended but your demeanor switched, which was something that surprised you. The blonde stranger didn’t seem to notice it, he knows nothing about you. For the first time, that has worked in your favor. “The name’s Anakin.”

He let go of your hand and you found your finger twitching against your bare thigh. You gave him your stage name and he simply smiled back, bringing the glass up to his lips. You leaned closer, placing your trembling hand on his thigh and squeezing it softly, noticing how his eyes drifted down to your cleavage only to go back to your face. “What brings you here, handsome?” The usual repertory was filled with cheesy phrases, sweet talk, and 101 manipulations. Emptying a man’s wallet wasn’t a hard thing, or at least after months of practice it no longer seemed like a challenge.

“I assume the same as every man here,” Anakin replied, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. He was good, he must be an orator or something. Not everyone can stare into your eyes when your tits are literally out. “But being honest, a… friend of mine insisted.”

“Well, then you have a good friend,” You smiled, thanking whoever pushed him into your arms— even if you already knew the culprit. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Your fingers play with the hem of his white button-up, tapping your nails over the ironed fold. 

“I have a few ideas,” He lowers his now empty glass, licking his lips. A simple act shouldn’t excite you but Oh it does. He looks like the type of guy who knows how to please a woman and the type of guy to rock your world…

Too bad that’s against the club’s guidelines.

“Such as?”

Anakin seemed to fall under your sultry voice, smirking and bringing his face closer to yours. You thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but he just whispered in your ear. “I’m sure you know what I want, and I’m sure you are tired of small talk. Do us a favor and tell me what I can and can’t do.” 

This was the second time in the night you found yourself speechless. Normally you are the one being straightforward, so why is that handsomely old man doing your job? Unbeknownst to you, Anakin’s heart was racing inside his chest at light speed. It has been years since he last flirted with someone, let alone a stripper— so he felt quite rough around the edges. It seemed to be working, or at least you faked it really well. Anakin’s charm never faded, even if he wasn’t fully aware of it. His bright smile and those wrinkles around his eyes… he could easily be your dad, which shouldn’t be as hot as it sounded. You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, silky and smooth. God, there’s nothing hotter than a man that takes care of his appearance. 

“Follow me then,” You manage to say through the loud heartbeat that drowns the loud music around you. You have done this countless times, but this was somewhat different. Why were you acting brand new? Get a damn grip. “You seem like a man who can afford our special treatment.”

Anakin chuckled, he never thought getting robbed would be so sexy. “Do I look special? Or do you say that to every guy?” He followed you anyway, surprisingly lacing your fingers together. His eyes never left yours, not even when other girls and dancers called for him. 

“Believe it or not, you look special.”

As you guided him inside the farthest room in the hallway, you locked the door and kindly settled him on the large sofa against the wall. There was a bed in the center of the bed and a pole next to it, but mostly for decoration. Not everyone had the privilege to fuck, lucky ones got to touch— but Anakin looked like he could win the lottery. This time he eyed you up and down, relaxing over the velvety cushions and spreading his legs. You’ve seen men sit that way countless times yet the way he did it was abysmally distinct. He had an air around him that no one could match and it truly excited you. Time wasn’t really a problem in this room, and he looked like someone who could treat themselves. The treat is a lap dance, of course. 

You picked the music, and that was the only thing that fitted into your routine. The top piece of your heels sank into the fluffy carpet as you made your way back to him, deliberately swaying your hips. Comfortably, you straddled his lap, lazily draping your arms over his shoulders. Anakin’s hands touched your hips and you were about to warn him about the rules… but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment. 

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered, his voice already hoarse. How long has this man been pent up? Only God knows. You giggled and began grinding against him, running your hands up his shoulders and cupping his face. Anakin’s eyes left your breasts to meet yours, lidded eyes heavy with ecstasy that the erotic dance brought him. “So fucking beautiful…”

His presence was starting to be a problem, at least for you. You couldn’t look away or stop your hips from rolling over his growing erection. It was highly unprofessional, even for a stripper but you’ve done worse things— to uglier men. Anakin hissed when you fully sat on top of him, and the grip on your hips tightened. The song changed and neither of you was aware of it. 

Returning your hands to his shoulders you used them as leverage to move, basically humping him without realizing it. You could lie and say this was part of the dance— but in reality, your body was moving on its own.

“Can I touch you?” Anakin requested, huffing and lifting his hips. His cock was aching but not fully hard yet. The right answer was to say no… so your hands reached for his and placed them over your chest. He sighed in clear contentment and cupped your tits, jiggling them softly and running his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you until they peeked underneath the sheer fabric of your lace bra. 

The urge to thank him was very, very present. Words failed you as he lowered the cups of your bra, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his eager mouth. Instantly, you tugged on his curls, just noticing the silver strands. He groaned against your flesh, tugging on your sensitive bud with his teeth and guiding you with his free hand. The dance quickly turned into a session of dry humping— not that you had any complaints. 

Anakin then cupped your center, rubbing his index finger through the thin thong and pushing it to the side. Everything was escalating too quickly and you needed to even it out— mostly to defend your pride— so you quickly unbuckled his belt, and Anakin didn’t even flinch. The tip of his finger ran through your folds and quickly found your clit, faster than any other man you’ve been with. You gasped, yanking his black boxers and biting your lip when you saw his cock. He was fully hard now and it looked like it fucking hurt. Above than average was your first thought, followed by the incessant desire to have him stretch you. From zero to a hundred, probably. Your hand looked tiny around his shaft, which sent a thrill of excitement down your spine. Anakin rolled his eyes and jerked his hips, silently asking for more. He circled your clit with practiced ease and that confirmed your suspicions— he is the type of man who knows what he’s doing and how to do it. 

“Are you always this wet for your clients or am I really special?” Anakin taunted you as if he wasn’t the one paying for the fucking lap dance. To confirm his accusation— because yes, it was an accusation— he sank a finger inside you, curling it softly and rubbing your walls at a slow pace. “I’m starting to think you don’t do this for everyone.”

“I don’t,” You choke, panting and determined to not be left behind. You began jerking him up at the same speed he fingered you. “It takes two to tango, you know?”

Anakin laughed. He dared to laugh. God, this man… “You are feisty, I like that.”

The damned butterflies returned, this time fluttering around your stomach and your pussy. Anakin was good at this. He wasn’t the average pathetic man who couldn’t understand the touch of a woman, nor an ancient dinosaur that was cheating on his wife and shamelessly rocking their wedding band as they threw dollars to your feet. No, he was one in a million. He noticed your silence and took advantage of your blissful state, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside you. If you knew better you would’ve thought he was stretching you. Stepping up your game, you stroke his cock faster, bringing your free hand to your mouth to spit on it, using both hands to touch him. 

That seemed to be a weak spot for him, and you actually heard him moan. It was a raw, guttural groan that made your pussy clench around his fingers. Looking down, you saw the wet, throbbing head, now glistening with your spit and the smeared precum. You could swear he looked thicker— or maybe it was your burning delirium for having him rearranging your guts. 

He wasn’t one to back up from a clear challenge, so he rubbed his fingers against your G-spot repeatedly, pressing tight circles over the spongy spot. Your hips jerked just like he did moments prior and for the first time in a while, you moaned someone else’s name. Anakin seemed to be pleased by your reaction and continued it, exclusively stimulating that spot that built up the recognizable pressure in a matter of seconds. 

“I’m gonna come,” You whimpered, closing your eyes. Anakin’s jaw clenched at the way your pussy sucked his fingers. Would you suck his cock with your velvety walls the same way? “Please, don’t stop.”

“Hold it,” He hissed but it wasn’t a request or anything. “I want to do it with you.”

You held your breath, flicking your wrist up and down, moaning repeatedly at the expertise of his touch. The knot in your lower stomach threatened to snap and holding it was borderline painful. The loud squelch of your cunt made the music surrounding you irrelevant, it was new music that was indeed expensive but— pornographically beautiful. Anakin hung his head back with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His scent was intoxicating, the mixture of his— surely fucking expensive— cologne, aftershave, and salty sweat was drowning you in a needy mess. Dragging you down to his spell when it was supposed to be the other way around. 

“Do it,” He urged you, repeating it over and over. His hard cock twitched in your hands repeatedly until he groaned loudly and his release crashed with yours. “Come for me— come on, princess.” 

Your walls gushed around his fingers, coating them in your own arousal seconds before his cum landed on your hands and your thighs— some on his thighs too. You called his name again, this time in a high-pitched moan. Anakin continued until you were on the verge of tears from the overstimulation, absentmindedly jerking his cock again as it started to soften in your hands. Your sweaty bodies were a mess of combined fluids and… broken rules. 

You were in so much trouble.

“See what special guests get?” You painted, finally retrieving his hands from his dick and fixing your bra. “You should be thankful.”

“Oh, believe me. I am,” Anakin purred, grabbing your hips and yanking you closer, finally pressing his lips against yours. “Hope you have a better treat for regular special guests.”

You really, really needed to thank homegirl for bringing him here. 

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #dilf!anakin #dilf!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader smut

[indigosunsetao3]

Protecting You

Your life, or safety, is threatened in front of one of the COD guys. How do they react to that?

Female reader perspective Warning: Unwanted advances, assault, roofie, torture, abusive ex

I noted each blurb for what would be featured for each person. Please make sure you check that before you read it.

Alex Unwanted Advances

"I'm fine really," you mutter as the man next to you at the bar insists on buying you another drink. You had turned him down twice now, sipping lightly on the still half-full glass you had.

"Come on, just one drink and if you think I'm that bad I'll leave you alone," he prods, waving the bartender over.

"Or you could leave me alone now," you tack on, looking over your shoulder for someone, anyone, to rescue you.

"Two of whatever she's having," the guy orders over your protests to the bartender to not make you one. The bartender doesn't catch it though, too busy helping the crowded bar and the music a little too loud to really hear.

"See not so bad," the guy grins before reaching out to grab at your hand which you quickly snatch away. "Oh come on, I'm not going to hurt you," he teases and reaches again.

"I believe she said she wasn't interested," a cool voice says from behind you. Looking over your shoulder you see another man on your left, leaning lightly on the bar glaring at the man next to you. He looks simple enough. About your age in a casual shirt and jeans but something behind his easy smile reeks of predator. Not for you though, but for the man who won't leave you be.

"It's none of your business," the guy snaps trying to literally grab your attention again by grabbing at your arm. "We're perfectly fine."

That's all it took. In the midst of you twisting away and telling the guy to just stop the man intervenes. He grabs your harassers wrist with lethal speed and twists it hard so his whole upper body contorts with the movement into the bar.

The glass from the drink your rescuer had just finished coming down to slam on the man's fingers. Hard enough that the glass shatters and the guy shrieks in pain as the stranger continues to hold the grip right on a pressure point.

"This should teach you to keep your hands to yourself," the man states, sliding his hand away to wipe on the small drink napkin. His movement so casual as if this were normal for him.

"Are you fucking crazy!" The guy yells dragging his arm back and staring at the bloody sticky mess of his hand. The glass shards had nicked a few of his fingers and he was screaming about how he would fuck you and this man up. Meanwhile the bartender was summoning the bar security not wanting a full on brawl to start and before you knew it all three of you were tossed out.

"Sorry about that," comes your rescuers voice as you both watch the other man head down the street with a few of his friends. "I couldn't sit there and listen anymore. I didn't mean for you to get kicked out into the cold," he grins a bit, then shivers as the wind rips right through both of you.

"No need to be sorry," you answer simply looking at him. "You didn't have to do that you know. But thank you..." you pause for an invitation for him to give you his name.

"Alex," he says with a small smile. "And no need to thank me. I wasn't going to just sit there and let him continue to hound you."

"Alex," you say with a nod trying to commit the name to memory. You doubted you would forget it though.

"Is your car around here?" Alex asks suddenly staring across the street. The men had stopped at the street corner and were watching the two of you.

"Ah, I walked from work," you answer. "I don't live too far," you tack on following his gaze to the men. "I'm sure it'll be fine..."

"I'll walk you home," Alex says after a second. "Or get you a taxi. I don't want you out here alone with them." He turns to look at you giving a small smile as you look up at him. "I promise I'm not a creep," he laughs a bit.

"We....we can walk," you venture after a second. "I feel like I owe you a drink after all that anyway. I think I've still got some left over tequila in the back of my cabinet." You aren't sure exactly why but you feel like you can trust him. "And if I thought you were a creep I'd be gone by now."

"You don't owe me anything," Alex says with a laugh before gesturing you to walk before shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes sliding over to the men across the street to keep them always in his view as you go. "But I wouldn't turn down a nightcap, though tequila can be dangerous." He winks as you both hustle to cross the street.

Yes it can be, you silently agree with a small thrill.

Gaz Assault

Maybe staying to watch one more episode was a bad idea. You really should have let your friend drive you home but you lived all the way across town and the train would be there soon enough. So tucking your purse tight against your side you head toward the train station. It's dark out, darker than normal since it's a new moon, and the shadows seem extra long as you hurry down the street.

When you round the corner to the alley you'd normally take as a short cut you spot a group of people halfway down it The alley cut five minutes off the walk and was usually fine by day, just dirty. But at night it was ominous and the people standing on the end blended a little too well into the dark. You debated on what to do before deciding to just walk through. You knew the area, knew how to handle yourself and it was cold.

Just as you pass you realize it's a group of about four men and the minute they realize you are alone it starts. The catcalls, the jeers, the simple 'where you going sweetheart?' questions. You've heard them all before and the best thing to do is ignore it and keep walking. But they follow. You mutter a no thanks, you're fine and every other placating thing you know to do. But it doesn't let up.

Just as you're about to clear the alley a hand juts out to grab you by the back of your jacket and you scream. They've dragged you back and are taunting you about being rude and they just wanted to talk. Your reactions a bit slow thanks to the wine you had drunk but you shove them back and one hit on a man's chest lands hard enough that a guy goes flying backward. You blink trying to figure out how you managed that until you realize someone else had shown up.

In a series of grunts and groans the men are swiftly dealt with. One having to be hoisted up by his friends before they all jog out of the alleyway. You have your back pressed up against the wall as your savior turns to look at you and you flinch a bit not sure what they want. If he was able to take on four guys on his own who knew what else he could do.

"You alright?" The man asks as he straightens his jacket and looks to where the attackers disappeared to.

"Yes, I think so," you stammer out as you wipe at your face not realizing you've been crying. "Thank you, where did you even come from?" You ask looking around to spot a door open and now that you aren't screaming you can hear music coming from it.

"I was headed out for a smoke when I heard you," the man answers. "I'm inside with a few friends. Do you want to come in and join us? Get warmed up a bit, it's freezing out here," he gives you a soft smile as you continue to press your back against the wall.

"I was on my way to the train station," you start but the warm yellow light of the restaurant seems to be beckoning you. Walking the rest of the way to the train station seemed like a monumental task now and you were afraid to be alone.

"I take the train myself," he answers. "Come in for a bit and we can go together, yeah?" He gestures for the door where another man has poked his head out to see where his friend had gone missing.

"I, ah," you hesitate for just a second longer. "Sure alright," you finish as the man in the doorway looks between the two of you.

"Everything alright out here Gaz?" The guy asks, his Scottish accent strong, as he takes in the scene.

"All good," Gaz answers as he follows you to the door. "Just dealing with a little issue," he explains and in the light of the door you can see his knuckles are bloody as he gestures you inside.

"A little issue?" You almost squeak as he grabs a few napkins from the bar top and wipes his hands down. "You took on four men...for a stranger."

"I wasn't going to just leave you out there," Gaz replies with a small smile. "Besides, that was barely a warm up," he winks and pulls a chair out for you to join his group of friends who are all watching your curiously.

Ghost Roofie

You've had way too much to drink. It was a celebration party for your friends recent job promotion and it was so rare you let your hair down you decided to go all out. It had been a bar crawl, wandering from one loud crowded place to the next. By the time you got to the fourth place (maybe it was the fifth place?) you were stumbling a bit.

Giving the bouncer your ID you swayed a bit in your spot while he looked it over with his flashlight and eyed you. After a second he nodded to let you in and you slipped inside. This place was packed, people jammed up against one another as the music blared and by the time you finished your latest drink you were feeling light headed and most of your body was numb.

"Careful," a voice says next to you as you sidestep and nearly fall. Hands had caught you around the waist and you look up at the man who was grinning at you. Who was he? Fuck where had your friends gotten off to? "I think you may need to sit for a minute," he suggests taking the empty glass from your tingling fingers and you nod. Yes, sitting would be good.

"I just need to find my friends," you say as you look around the place but it's just a swarm of bodies, their faces all a blur. "Let me just," you start reaching for your phone.

"Let's get you outside where it's cooler then you can call them," the guy says, his arm still tight around you. "You're very flushed," he gives you a sweet smile and you nod again. You really did feel overheated, maybe that's why you felt so dizzy and uncoordinated.

You let the guy guide you toward the door before a hand shoots out of nowhere blocking the exit to the alley. You blink once, twice, swaying a bit as the guy helping you walk halts. This second man is huge, impossibly huge, as he holds his ground glaring at the two of you. It takes a second to register then you realize exactly who it is. You hadn't seen him in a while and your brain was so muddled the connection almost didn't click.

"Simon?" You ask, laughing a bit at the odds of him being here of all places. "When did you get back into town? Where's Johnny?" You inquire looking over your shoulder expecting to see your friend standing there. You giggle a bit as you lose your footing again but Simon's hand catches your bicep.

"I know what you fucking did," Simon says and you splutter. You hadn't done anything, what was his problem? Then you realize he isn't talking to you, he's talking to the guy that was attempting to lead you outside. "And so do the bouncers," he nods his head at the guy that had been working the door pushes through the crowd toward you all. "You're lucky there are too many witnesses or I'd snap your goddamn neck," Simon breathes as he pulls you toward him as the guy lets you go finally. The malice in his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you try to figure out why Simon was so mad.

"Let's go, love," Simon says after a second pushing the door open to the alley as the bouncer grabs the guy you were with. "I'm going to take you home," he explains as he sees you staring at him confused. "With me," he adds after a second as you continue walking, "you shouldn't be alone right now."

What did that even mean? You'd recovered from hangovers just fine in the past. Sure, they were miserable and you laid on the bathroom floor for hours but you were very much capable of paying for your poor decisions. You don't have a chance to question though as your surroundings start to spin. You groan a bit beginning to feel sick, the fun of being drunk was rapidly fading and was instead replaced by a sickening unease.

Time and memory seemed to warp and next thing you know Simon is tucking you gently into the passenger seat of his car. He's already got the engine running and cool air is blasting on you helping to dissipate some of nausea. It takes you a second to realize his hands are holding your face up to stare at him. His face his a hard mask as he assesses you and you feel him reach for your pulse, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. He's not happy with what he finds based on his reaction.

"Simon?" You ask a bit pathetically as your hands reach for him to grip his shirt. You know something is definitely not right and now the fear is settling in. Your lip trembles as you try to lock in your focus but everything feels like it's slipping away like holding water in your hands.

"I've got you," he answers, not flinching as you grasp at him. "You're safe with me," he assures you as his hand pushes your hair off your face where it had begun to stick to the sweat there.

"I know," you reply even though you barely knew him. You'd only met him a few times when Johnny brought him back on his leaves. You had been intrigued by him but he always stayed an arms length away. Friendly but closed off. Johnny said that's just how he was when you asked, though you caught the mischievous look he gave you when you asked about Simon a few more times.

"How did you..." you mumble, your fingers twisting up the fabric on his chest to hold on tight. You were afraid if you let go you'd just fall into the nothingness that was threatening to take you under.

"Johnny told me you were going out with friends tonight. I wanted to see you again," he ventures knowing you won't remember all of this in the morning. "I lost track of you in that stupid bar and by the time I found you again," he pauses to keep his temper in check, loosing a calming breath. "I should have said something sooner to you. Not let you be alone."

"I wanted to see you too," you let slip before shutting your eyes as the drugs finally took you under.

Price Torture

The mission had gone absolutely sideways. What should have been a relatively simple extraction turned out to be an ambush and you had lost two team members. They had opted to take you captive instead of killing you, hoping to get information out of you.

Four days of psychological torture. No sleeping, every time you tried they'd wake you up with loud noises after only twenty minutes. Only enough food to keep you from passing out and barely any water. The room they held you in was freezing and wet, no bed and a bucket for waste.

Perhaps the worst part though was the absolute silence. There was no noise aside from the damned dripping pipe that kept your room damp. You couldn't hear planes, cars or even a bird. The only way you knew time had passed was watching the shadows move across the wall from the small slit of a window a few feet up the wall.

You were supposed to check in with Price, he was the rendezvous drop off for your target. So, despite your team being dead, there was someone out there that knew you were missing. That was the only thing that kept you hopeful for a way out.

On day five the leader of the group enters your cell with an ominous look on his face. You don't back down as he grabs your shackled wrists and slams you down on the chair he's brought in. You twist and fight as one of his men ties you down earning a sharp slap across the face.

"Tell us about John Price," the man demands as he squats down to get in your face.

"I," you pause confused, "what?" This was not what you were expecting to be questioned about. "What about John Price? What does he have to do with me?' You question feeling your heartbeat kick up a bit.

"You were meeting him, tell us," the man demands as he fishes a lethal looking knife from his pocket and flicks it open. "Tell us and I'll make it quick," he smirks as he traces the knife slowly down your arm with just enough pressure to make a small stream of blood appear in it's wake.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you," you answer still a bit perplexed. "He's a man? He's a Captain?" Another resounding slap snaps your head sideways and you taste blood as you work your jaw before sitting back up again. "You need to ask better questions because I don't know what you want." You have an idea what they may want but there was no way they were getting anything out of you.

"Funny," the man says as he grabs your jaw to shake your face and pulls your focus back on him. "Tell us why he was involved in your extraction."

You don't give it up though. The men continue to abuse you, cutting at your skin, battering your face and nearly suffocating you with their hands only to bring you back right when you are about to pass out. It hurts to blink and you spit out a mess of drool and blood when they finally relent for now. The shadows on the wall are long so you know they had been at it for hours.

They leave you tied to the chair and you tilt forward trying to get some sleep. You were hoping they were occupied trying to decipher your run around answers to not notice you were taking a nap. Your sleep is deep but it doesn't last long as a hand lifts your head back up from where it was lolled against your shoulder. You jolt up in the dark and flinch back from the touch.

"It's me," a man says as you blink in the dark groaning a bit. "It's John," the familiar deep gravel of a voice clicks into place and you unclench the fists you had made unconsciously.

"John?" You splutter out trying to look around the room. It's too dark for you to see anything, the stark opposite of how they usually kept it in their methods of keeping you awake. "How'd you know where I was? " You pause realizing you also had no idea where you were. "Where am I exactly?"

"They picked a shit location to try and hide you," he says with a small chuckle as the tip of metal knife slides around your wrists to cut the bonds away. "Abandoned oil field, too open and easy to gain access," he says as he bends down to undo your feet. "Team's got the guards at the gates occupied for a few more minutes," he says before you hear the rustle of him putting the knife away. "Can you walk?"

"I think so?" You mutter as your hand reaches up to touch your puffy eye before you flinch at how tender it is. "They mostly focused on my face, don't need that for walking." You try an attempt to joke but based on Price's silence it falls flat. You can feel the anger roiling off him, though his touch is soft as he surveys the rest of your body for injuries. His fingers brush over the tender skin of your throat and you know it has to be black and blue with how rough they had been.

"How many are there left?" You ask as you rally your strength to stand up, you'd be no help in a fight right now. If you were quick maybe you could sneak out without anyone being the wiser.

"None left in this building," Price says as he gently grabs you under the armpits to help you stand. You look at him shocked, there were at least ten of them that you knew of. Once you're fully standing you grab his clothed forearms to steady yourself. You can feel something warm and wet on your fingertips, without seeing it you know it's blood. "Hunted the whole crew down before I came to find you. Amazing what a halligan can do to some skulls," he says darkly.

"Alone?" You ask as Price tucks one of your hands into the strap of his vest so he can guide you. You can hear him raise his gun as he moves out of the room. The thought of him taking on the men that killed your team by himself sends a jolt of fear down your spine. The risk alone was too great, especially since they were hunting him specifically.

"I do know how to take care myself," Price answers though there is a hint of amusement in his voice. "Couldn't wait on the team to catch up. I wasn't going to leave you in here another minute with them, love."

Soap Abusive Ex

"Get out!" You yell as your ex storms into the apartment from where he had hidden waiting for you to open the door to get a delivery. He's ranting and raving about indiscretions you made against him. How you screwed him over and were the reason he was failing at everything in his life. Everything was your fault, it was always your fault, and he was here to finally put a stop to ruining things for him.

The text to Soap had been quick, a subtle message sent with just two words. Help me. You didn't bother reaching out to the authorities, they never helped. Always saying there was nothing they could do despite the fact your ex had been escalating. First it was simple calling and texting nonstop. Then the letters shoved under your front door. Moving onto showing up at your job so security had to escort him out. Now this.

"What is this?" Your ex asks as he pulls a hooded sweater from underneath the blanket on the couch. Soap had stayed over nights when you had been afraid to be alone, sleeping on the couch. It was innocent, mostly, because you were too afraid to try and move on. Not that it mattered if it wasn't, you and your ex had been over for months. "Who's is this?" He advances on you.

"It doesn't matter," you answer backing up against the dining room table. "You need to get out of my house right now," you argue looking over his shoulder.

"It's his isn't it?" He shakes the hoodie at your face as he gets uncomfortably close. "That fucking Scot that I told you to stop talking to," he shoves you.

"What does it matter?" You fight back before gasping at the shove, the table biting into your lower back. He pushes you again before shoving you bodily to the floor to hover over you. "Please, just get out," you say as you try to back peddle on your hands to put some space between you and him.

"I'm not going anywhere," he snarls and moves to grab you by the hair when the front door bangs open. Five minutes. Soap got to you in five minutes. You weren't sure how he was able to get there in that short amount of time but you don't question it.

Your ex paused to look over his shoulder at the noise and that was enough time for Soap to clear the living room and grab him. He's hoisted up and back by the collar of his shirt and bodily tossed away from you. Soap moves to stand between you and him. A silent form of protection as he looks at the man who's on his ass staring at Soap with murder in his eyes.

"I wouldn't try it," Soap warns the guy with a small smirk as your ex stands back up and forms his hands into fists. "I've been waiting for fucking weeks to do this. It's only because of her you haven't had your ass handed to you before now."

You've stood up now, rubbing absently at your back as you keep your distance behind Soap. You're terrified as Soap cocks his head to the side assess the situation. It's not fear for Soap's safety, you know he can handle himself, but because of everything that just happened. Your ex doesn't take the warning and lunges for Soap.

It's over in a matter of seconds. Soap has him pinned on the ground with his knee in your ex's neck. Your ex is spluttering on the carpet with a bloody lip and busted nose, his free hand scrambling for purchase while Soap twists the other one behind him.

"I'm sorry, I can't fucking hear you," Soap hisses as he bends his head down closer to your ex's face. Your ex is actually squealing with pain as Soap twists his arm further back. If it goes any more you know the shoulder will pop out of the socket and you wince. This isn't exactly what you wanted, at least on a surface level. Yet you knew deep down calling Soap to help would somehow end in your ex receiving some sort of a beat down. Soap had been threatening it for some time now.

"I'm sorry! I'll go!" Your ex finally yells out before groaning as Soap gives his arm one last good yank before letting go and standing up.

"Get the fuck out," Soap says as he stands and moves to put himself between you and your ex again just to be safe. "And leave her alone. If I hear you keep coming round it won't be just me you'll have to deal with."

Your ex leaves with a slam of the door, muttering empty threats about calling the police. In the ringing silence you feel your knees buckle and you grab the table as you start to sob. It had all been so overwhelming and terrifying you don't know another way to process everything.

"Shh, lass," Soap says quietly, his tone turning into the soft gentle one that you knew. The aggressive Soap you had just witnessed was something he hadn't shown you. Sure you heard stories but seeing it live was a whole other story. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he says as he gently coaxes you into his arms and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"Can you stay?" You ask after long minutes of silence as Soap rubs your back, still holding you. "I don't want...if he comes back," you mumble, the anxiety dreaming up different scenarios of him escalating it.

"Of course," he answers, "couch sort of has my name on it anyhow." He chuckles a bit spotting his sweatshirt there then realizes that's probably what set your ex off in a tirade. He had forgotten it that morning.

"Stay with me," you say after a second, letting him fill in that blank of what exactly you were requesting. "I don't want to be alone," you tack on in explanation as Soap raises his eyebrows.

It had been going this way for a while now but your fear of your ex had always put a stop to it. You'd been afraid of how he'd react and what he would do if he found out. Soap remained ever patient and understanding through it all and after tonight you were tired of waiting.

"Whatever you want lass," Soap answers but you can feel him smiling as he presses another kiss to your temple.

#call of duty #cod #call of duty fanfic #my fic #fanfic #fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod drabble #random musings #cod alex #cod gaz #cod ghost #cod john price #cod soap #alex keller x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #tf 141 x reader #18+ only

[demonpiratehuntress]

mistletoe

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader

summary - jumping on the mistletoe bandwagon, their reactions to finding themselves under the mistletoe with you

warnings - none

a/n: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I don't but I wanted to wish everyone else :)

ZORO

You would be lying if you said you didn't plan all week mostly trying to get Zoro under mistletoe with you. Coming up with excuses to get him in a doorway seemed near impossible, but after a very long few days of thinking, you had your plan set.

"Zorooooooo~"

The swordsman groaned, knowing exactly what that sing-song call meant for him. It could only spell mischief, and he popped open an eye to peer at you curiously.

"What do you want, woman?" He grumbled.

You pouted, "Come onnnnn, lighten up! It's Christmas!" You tugged on his arm. "Pleaseeee?"

He sighed loudly, "Fine."

He let you pull him up and drag him along, silently cursing his willingness to go along with whatever silly endeavor you chose for each day. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to just sleep, he loved you enough to participate in your silly antics.

When you suddenly stopped and pointed upwards, Zoro was confused. Then he looked up, and his eyes found some mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe.

"Seriously?" He looked back at you, frowning.

You rolled your eyes, "Fine, I'll go get Sanji."

That was enough to make him growl and grab your waist, tugging you forward so you were against his chest. You giggled innocently and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You're so annoying," he complained, but kissed you anyway.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, pouring as much love as he could into it. Usually these kisses were brief, but he drew it out and kissed you for longer than you expected, effectively knocking the wind out of you when you pulled away.

"Now can I nap in peace?"

ACE

This man right here is perhaps the only one in this list that does not need to be dragged under it. He is the one carrying it around, putting it over two people's heads randomly and then running off giggling when they yell and chase him. But he will also put it over your head and his, although it took him a few tries.

"(Nameeeee)! Look what I got!"

Your energetic boyfriend bounded into the room you were busy in, holding something behind his back. He pouted when you didn't even look up, before repeatedly tapping your arm to get your attention.

"(Name), (Name), (Name)..."

He's like a little kid. So eventually you give in and look at him, only to see him raise something and hold it above yours and his heads. You blush madly upon seeing what it was, feeling butterflies form in the pit of your stomach. The fiery commander smiled innocently, and you couldn't help but giggle as you pulled away from your work to indulge him, wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

"Well, look what we have here," you smirked.

"I know, what a coincidence," he shot you a goofy grin, leaning in.

"I'm not complaining."

You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercely and hotly. He reciprocated immediately, making sure to keep the mistletoe hanging above as he cupped your cheek in his free hand, smiling against your lips. He loved kisses like these, energetic and passionate but also loving and adoring.

"That was by far the best response I've gotten to hanging this over people's heads."

"Oh my god, Ace!" you giggled, realising why everyone had been out for Ace's blood today. You shook your head at his antics, pecking his lips one more time before going back to work.

LAW

The complete opposite of Ace, Law is the hardest to get under the mistletoe. He is always cooped up in his room, working, and barely leaves. So you have to do some really deep thinking and planning to get this stubborn man to kiss you under the mistletoe.

Of course, he has to leave his room for meals, so you decide to strike at breakfast on Christmas.

You failed to account for the fact that Law was the most observant person to ever exist, and that he would easily spot the mistletoe you not-so-secretly hid above his doorway. He did find it, and called you first - knowing full well this was one of your shenanigans.

"(Name)-ya, what's that?"

You swallowed nervously and looked up, letting out a nervous chuckle, "I have no idea how that got there."

"Uh huh," he hummed, stepping closer to you. "Look me in the eye and say that again."

You couldn't. And now you were getting too nervous to even just grab him and kiss him, but little did you know that was part of his plan. He was flipping the switch, turning the tables on you and making it seem as if it was his idea.

"Well, you know the rule," he said casually, leaning closer to you. "I'm waiting."

Your face turned a dark shade of red at that, and you fidgeted with your shirt anxiously before leaning in to meet him halfway, letting your lips touch his gently. He was the one who deepened it, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Law, when he wanted to be, could be just as mischievous, if not more.

SANJI

I take it back, Sanji is the easiest to get under the mistletoe. In fact, he is the one planting the mistletoe everywhere in hopes of getting to snag a kiss from you at one point. Little did he expect, his plan would backfire quite miserably. Because instead of walking into the kitchen with you, you got stuck in the doorway with Usopp under the mistletoe, because Usopp had tried to get out the same time you tried to go in.

"YOU LONG-NOSED SNAKE-"

Sanji was fuming, throwing a tantrum as you just giggled and pecked the sniper's cheek, earning an embarrassed blush from him as he scuttled off.

"Babe-"

"Next one is mine, I swear!"

That did not happen. You just happened to be walking out of the aquarium when Zoro walked in, and Sanji almost fainted when the two of you landed under the mistletoe.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"Rules are rules, twirly brows," Zoro smirked, enjoying this solely because it irritated the hell out of Sanji. As the blonde fumed and threw another tantrum, you gave Zoro a quick peck on the cheek as well before moving on.

Only after you had given Luffy, Brook, Franky and Chopper cheek kisses as well did Sanji FINALLY get you under the mistletoe, but by then he was in tears. Crying over how badly he'd planned this.

"Come here you," you laughed and pulled him close by the collars of his shirt, smashing your lips against his. You kissed him fervently, showing him that you'd been waiting for this kiss the most. He eventually relaxed and kissed you back just as passionately, locking his arms around your waist.

"About damn time."

KAKU

Oh, boy. The ratio of boys to girls in the CP9 team is horrible. There are two women, compared to six men. That's excluding Spandam, because you never included him in these things. But still, it was quite difficult for Kaku to surprise you with mistletoe because of the rare chance of getting you to walk where he placed it without you figuring it out.

Oh well.

So, begrudgingly, Khalifa agreed to help him out. Knowing it wouldn't be suspicious if she led you through a specific doorway, you followed her easily without questioning it.

That is, until she stopped outside the doorway and you entered at the same time as Kaku was trying to leave. The CP9 swordsman blushed, thankful that this worked, and shyly gestured up towards the mistletoe. Your eyes widened, before your own blush formed on your cheeks.

He is so so shy, you are the one who actually makes the move. He may have planted the mistletoe, but he is too nervous and flustered to actually lean in and kiss you, so you have to grab him by the zipper of his jacket and tug him down to meet you at eye-level.

"It's cute that you planned it out," you smiled innocently, knowing about it since Khalifa was not great at hiding what her task was.

"How did you-" He looked at Khalifa, who just shrugged and turned away. He blushed harder, "I didn't want to get anyone else under here by accident."

His admission made you giggle, "Fair enough."

Then you leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply, angling your face away from his long nose after multiple experiences of your kisses being ruined by your eye being poked. His arms slipped around your waist and he lifted you up slightly, since he was much taller, and kissed you even deeper than you had kissed him.

"Get a room!" Jabra yelled, which you both ignored.

LUFFY

At least everyone else on this list actually knows what mistletoe is. Poor Luffy was so confused by the concept when Nami brought it up a few days before, and even explaining it to him didn't help. Unfortunately, on the day of Christmas, before anyone could actually show him what it was, Luffy had already eaten like three of the four plants that were strung up randomly around the ship.

"Luffy!" Nami scolded, "They're not food!"

Sanji had set them up, not knowing your dear captain would be oblivious enough to consume them, though he should have known better. Fortunately, since the cook was desperately trying to get either Robin or Nami to kiss him, he had spares.

"It's mistletoe, Luffy," you giggled as you took his hand and guided him to where Sanji had hung a surprise one for you and Luffy.

"What does it do?" He blinked, so very cutely confused.

"Well," you began, stopping under the doorway with the mistletoe, "You have to kiss the person you end up under the mistletoe with." As you said it, you blushed hard.

"But why?" Luffy asked. "Can't I just kiss you anyway?"

You laughed at that, blushing more, "You can, but it's more like...a cute tradition."

"Oh," he nodded, looking like he understood. He did not.

"Luffy," you sighed, pointing up at the plant.

He looked up, got excited and reached for it...only to have you slap his hand away.

"Don't eat it!"

Before he could respond, you tugged him against you by his waistcoat and kissed him deeply, successfully distracting him from his mission to apparently consume all the mistletoe you owned. He wrapped his arms around you excitedly and kissed you messily, but you didn't mind because he was just very eager.

"I get it now!"

USOPP

Like Kaku, Usopp is an extremely shy, flustered boy. He is so nervous all the time and when Robin off-handedly mentions mistletoe a day before Christmas, Usopp almost faints. He has kissed you before, but the idea of setting it up and leading you to it had his knees knocking together, his legs becoming two wavy lines.

"Usopp!" You called excitedly, rushing to find your boyfriend. While he was so nervous about the mistletoe, you had no such qualms and even blatantly waved it around over your head. "Look what I found!"

When you reached him, you smiled innocently as you held the little plant over your heads, grabbing his hand to pull him close.

"And what exactly do you have there?" He asked, feigning confusion.

You raised an eyebrow, then smirked, "Are you getting shy on me again? How cute." You kissed his cheek, making him protest.

"Is that my kiss?! That is so unfair, how can you just-"

You cut him off by actually kissing him, effectively shutting him up and drowning out his complaints. You kissed him deeply, much more passionately than your usual kisses and giggled when his legs almost gave out from under him.

"I-I was gonna do that..."

"Uh huh."

#one piece #op #zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x you #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d luffy #one piece kaku #kaku x reader #kaku x you #usopp x reader #usopp x you #usopp #one piece x reader #one piece x you

[sukunas-wife]

I'm in desperate need of sukuna just catering to his pregnant wife. Like he's being too careful, caring and overall really really cautious around her. I just need some sweet stuff between the two. Idk how it'll happen but it must, and I think you'll be the perfect person for it♡♡♡ i love your work sm istg i could just smoosh u into a big hug, reading your posts just makes me all giddy and melt. thank you in advance!!!

Stop Ilysm 🥺🤍 imma do my best 🥹

In no way was Ryomen Sukuna a domestic man, much less a man who would show mercy or an ounce of emotion. Yet here he stood, both sets of arms crossed over his chest hard stare following your waddle around the garden, his face was void of emotions but internal something was ignited. Subconsciously, his body led him to find you almost always when he would wander about aimlessly in thought. Here he was, standing on the engawa. His eyes ran over your body, the small swell in your tummy was a pain in his ass but there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to ensure your safety and his child’s. He was lucky you hadn’t noticed him or you’d probably demand something from him and there he would have to go to please you.

The cold rush of air on his skin didn't bother him, but he saw how you shivered, tucking your hands into the sleeves of your robes resting them on your swollen belly. You were persistent and stubborn it didn't surprise when the second rush of wind came and you side eyed the empty air as if threatening a being. You sighed continuing your walk in the garden, fingers grazing the flowers of the garden. The garden you had begged him to make because it had been your dream to have a lavish royal garden of your own. He remembers the first time he allowed you out of his sight, he found you sitting on a stone bench under the shade of a blooming sakura tree, you must’ve felt like one of those silly little princesses with how you slowly lifted your hand to catch falling blooms.

You felt the shift in the air but weren’t bothered to turn around and greet him, you were busy on your little adventure. You were looking for the perfect place, you kept walking until you came to a decent open space, in the centre was a ring of bushes. Staring at the space you started to space out thinking only pulled back to reality by your husband when he draped his Haori over your shoulders. He stood behind you, a pair of arms around you carefully tying it closed. His scent and warmth lingered over your skin when he stepped away, you looked back over your shoulder and up at him. He was looking past you at the bushes you were staring at, one of his left hands rested on your left shoulder. He brought a right hand up to his face, squeezing his cheek bones and running his hand down his face like he was thinking, “what have you decided?” You hummed, “A plum tree right there, as our child grows so will the tree, when he’s old enough to eat fruit it’ll start to bloom.” Sukuna didn’t understand the sentiment behind having your child grow up with his or her own tree. In the end one of them would die and they would have to part ways. “Uraume” “Yes Lord Sukuna.” It was an unspoken command. It was one of many he’d be giving for the next few months.

——————-

“…su?” Your voice was lost in the dark before you tried to sit up whispering, “..sukuna.. kuna… suuuu.” You laid a hand on your husband's chest rubbing circles, he took a slow deep breath opening his eyes to look at you. “Yes y/n?” Your hand trailed to his lower shoulder trailing down his arm and taking his hand holding it in your lap between both of your smaller hands in comparison. “I..I’m hungry..” he was looking at you with soft lidded eyes. His lower set of eyes opened when he sat up the arm he had wrapped around you in his sleep and moved to rub your side, he did his best to whisper “What do you need?” He never asked what do you want like it was a bothersome request, but rather what do you need like it was something necessary for you to keep living. “I want the melon from that fruit stand in the village. The one they had at the top in a small crate…” his mouth opened slightly like he was going to say something. Because here’s the thing, he bought that melon when he saw your eyes linger on it a little too long. But at the moment Uraume wasn’t there and he didn’t wanna carry around a small crate while he had things to do so he told the Vendor he would be back for it, and if he tried to sell it or let anything happen to it, it would be his life for that melon. He closed his mouth, “I…” he moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, “I’ll be right back.” You sat there rubbing your belly when he left, it didn’t feel like long considering the King of Curses was inhumanely fast. What took him longer was rummaging through the fruit vendor's stand looking for that cursed crate and melon. Finally he found it tucked away with a note in beg red characters, “LORD SUKUNA DO NOT DAMAGE DO NOT SELL AT ANY EXPENSE THE EMPEROR'S PREGNANT WIFE CAN STARVE IF IT SPARES MY LIFE.” He laughed to himself, a smug smile on his face, “These fools do have brains, how refreshing.”

He made it home and had your ladies in waiting bring you to the table, there he cracked open the crate showing you the perfect honeydew melon that had a thin layer of condensation making it look like the night dew had blessed it. Your tummy growled and your eyes shined bright for everyone to see. It was funny to see the melon on a red cushion in the crate before Sukuna carefully pulled it out and placed it on a wooden slab asking how you wanted it. You told him to cut it into slices, you watched him turn down the knife a lady in waiting offered him only to use to dismantle. It was faster, cleaner and efficient, he chose the best piece shaking off the seeds and handing it to you. You bought into it and it was the best thing in the world, until you finished your third piece and decided you didn’t want it anymore you were full and it started to taste funny. Your ladies in waiting giggled and Sukuna sighed when they started to clean it up, they decided to save the rest for you if you started craving it for at least the next two days.

——————

It wasn't long after that night, you found yourself awake at another ungodly hour of the night. You felt queasy and quickly jumped out of bed, rushing to the large washroom Sukuna loved to bathe in. You grabbed one of the brand new chamber pots the ladies in waiting had bought at Sukuna’s command for when you'd get sick in the morning. You thought you were alone but there was your husband, one arm rubbing your back, the other stilling your chalky hands, the second pair braiding your hair back and out of the way. Following you immediately he snapped at one of the servants to bring water and something to settle your stomach if it was needed. For now he provided the best comfort he could. His warm hands on your cold back and shaky hands might not have stopped your nausea but it was comforting to know he was there with you even if he could’ve just rolled over and slept. You would’ve kissed him or at least his cheek if you didn’t feel so dirty and your tummy didn’t ache and feel empty in a weird way.

——————

Here stood the King of Curses, it was past midday. He was lucky your cravings were during daylight this time but what he didn't understand was why you wanted to top your dango with crumbled salted egg yolk and mochi with dried squid topping. It made him sick and he was more than willing to eat raw human flesh. He sat there making sure the waiter never let your cup empty or your plates void of food but he stopped when you tried to top fried squid with a chocolate and red bean paste.

“Enough y/n, you will make yourself nauseous before the morning nausea starts tomorrow.” His voice and look were stern and authoritative which caused you to pout, “…fine.”

Of course that didn’t stop you from packing your left over into a little wooden bento box to take home.

So when you were hungry after being carried over half of the trip home you decided to eat that sinful concoction you called a meal. Just to find your bento had been tampered with and only had red bean paste buns and chocolate mochi. Your puffed out cheeks match your belly perfectly when you went around looking for Sukuna. Only to barge in on him having a conversation with Kenjaku. “Where’s my squid!” Kenjaku was surprised someone had the gall to raise their voice and be so demanding with the king of curses, “Not now Y/n” Sukuna tried to give you a look to tell you now isn’t an appropriate time, that didn’t stop you from getting closer seeing Kanjaku’s look of surprise when he saw your stomach swollen and prominent. The King of Curses’s wife was indeed pregnant meaning it was entirely possible for a curse to impregnate a human… but could a human.. “I told YOU I wanted that squid!” Your teary eyes had Sukuna’s eye twitching his mind was Screaming ‘dammit woman out of all the times you could cry and make a scene and walk out like THAT it had to be in front of this deranged man-?” He cleared his throat “URAUME- Yes Lord Sukuna.”

Uraume was quick to fry up squid for you, fresh, hot and crispy. It was perfect. His jaw dropped when he saw how you squeezed a drop of red bean paste and chocolate mochi filling on the squid just to take a bite. He also didn’t hesitate in running at you with one of the brand new chamber pots when all of your lunch came back up with that cursed squid. Your husband walked in and sighed, he looked at you as you wiped your mouth, “What did I tell you.” You avoided eye contact, “To not..” he placed a hand on your back rubbing up and down your spine, Uraume was quick to bring water.

————-

Finally, here was Sukuna kneeling in front of you between your legs. You were close to birthing so this had become a very common position for you. Your robes were open and he was listening to your stomach. He could hear very clearly and distinct your heart beat from your child’s. That little heart beat was strong and present no doubt his child. You always ran your hand over his hair, your nails scratching his scalp and he’d humm before finally pulling back. Spreading oil over his hands. All those Japanese Camellia seeds he forced servants to gather and extract oil from because you’d become self conscious of your body and the marks in your skin where your skin was stretching. He’d kneel there between your legs, warm hands rubbing your belly, sides, breasts and thighs down with the oil that everyone had sworn would help you prevent and recover from stretch marks. As much as he’d like to have advanced on you in these situations, he would've been doing this for your last trimester daily. There was no doubt in his mind he would’ve induced early labour, so there he sat pent up but tending to your silly little self conscious needs. Honestly, how could you think yourself ugly when he thought you looked perfectly swollen with his child. If he chose you, why would you belittle yourself? He doesn’t choose and take things that don’t meet his ridiculously high standards. So he doesn’t understand why all of a sudden the change in your mindset. But he’s here with you muttering comforting words against your stomach and thighs if it help you truly understand how he feels about you.

Squishy: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@cyder-puff @bofadeezs

Perm: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken🥺: @cyder-puff @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378

#sukunas wife #sukunas wife speaks #daddy sukuna #sukuna ryomen #🤍mail time #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna x reader #sukuna x wife reader #yuji and mom reader #sukuna x you #sukunas wife’s ask #dadkuna #sukunation #soft sukuna #yuji x mom reader #son yuji #jjk sukuna ryomen #son yuji mom reader #sukuna nation #jjk ryomen sukuna #dad sukuna son yuji #sukuna fluff #heian sukuna x reader #heian sukuna fluff #four armed sukuna x reader #heian period sukuna

[chrollohearttags]

writing silly prompts with my OTP so you don’t have to • part one

content warning: exactly as it says, voyeurism, exhibitionism, reverse cowgirl, squirting

📝: I cannot explain this even if I wanted to. Sometimes, I have a lightbulb in my head, constantly flickering and other times, it’s nothing more than wind and baked beans up here so I need help jogging my brain muscles and reviving my creative spark. Don’t get me wrong, I love you guys’ asks and I’ll get to them, as well as the commissions, I swear but I need to get my juices flowing again 🫶🏾

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ahh! Shit…mmphm. Gonna make me come..”

“Go ahead, princess. Nut on this dick..better keep quiet though. You don’t want us to get caught..”

another peaceful Sunday stroll down South Beach’s Design District turned to a rather eventful outing. Of course, that was nothing out of the ordinary for the infamous couple. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to spend your very limited free time enjoying relaxing walks through the various shops in the heart of downtown..where you may have frequented your favorite stores and restaurants as a bit of routine in your very chaotic and ever changing schedules. It was the one constant that you could bet on in your hectic lives. However..as soothing as the mundane was sometimes…you both still craved that thrill. The excitement that came with doing something you had no business. That rush only grew tenfold when you considered the fact that you weren’t exactly inconspicuous..everyone in Miami and the world at this point knew EJ the Don and (y/n) (l/n). Everyone was looking for an excuse to photograph you two. So it was insane that you were so casually perched atop your man’s dick at a popular lounge on Ocean Drive; enjoying some semblance of privacy as you had rented out the rooftop area for yourselves but even so, if caught, you’d find yourselves front page on somebody’s blog. Right now, you just couldn’t be vexed to give a fuck. Instead…

“Fuck! I don’t care who sees, I just wanna keep—“

your words trailed off into a high pitched yelp as that tip poked the inner corner of your sensitive core. Being fucked up into like a jackhammer into concrete. A tattooed hand on your clothed tummy and inked fingers stroking your clit. All of this because you just had to wear..it. A regular, run of the mill sundress that you had probably gotten as part of PR from Fashion Nova or Shein a year ago and just decided to throw it on to combat this horrendous heat. And yet, it was getting your pussy pounded! Strutting around without so much as a thong on underneath, just in case the mood struck you. Of course, it didn’t take long for your husband to follow suit when saw the fat of that ass swaying from behind the clingy material and watched you bend over to retrieve something when that hem raised and that plump little cunt became visible..from there, neither of you could contain yourselves. Up and down with your legs propped onto the pool chair you went..rutting your hips in slow circular motions as you performed tricks on that dick. Smacking, wet noises filling the summer air. You were certain some attendee or waiter was lurking in the shadows, possibly jerking off or even filming you two but it didn’t even matter. Your only concern was coming all over him! That deep voice growling in your ear as he held you close to his chest and let you ride out your orgasm. Even shortly after, bending you over again so that he could see that ass moving against him. Shouting off expletives at each other..

“Give it to me! Fuck this pussy, daddy. Right there!..”

“Hold still, baby..gonna nut all in this shit!—“

before he could do so, you were already reaching a climatic high..clamping down on his shaft before springing up and spraying him with those sweet, divine juices. Groping one of your tits, Eren would cackle as he watched you come undone for him. Squirming all over the place with uncontrollable trembling from that powerful peak. You were still shooting out tiny streams of that squirt afterwards. Having been fucked so roughly with such impact but of course, it couldn’t be helped..

“Sorry, princess. You know what happens when you wear that shit around me. Can’t help myself..”

#cherry’s drabbles 🍒🌷 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #musician x influencer au #eren x black fem!reader #black reader smut #eren smut #aot smut #aot x reader #musician eren #eren x reader #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren #aot #black reader #aot au #aot imagines #aot drabbles #aot headcanons #otp prompts #cw exhibitionism #cw smut #cw voyeurism #cw public sex #cw sex mention #eren snk #eren jaeger x black reader smut #snk smut #eren jaeger x reader

[yaut-jaknowit]

Trio of bad bloods obsessed with their human mechanic. So much so that said human has no choice but to live on their ship because they'd be dammed if someone else touched you! (Not that the human is complaining, lol) The human is smitten :3 perhaps said human teases them to break the sexual tension?

Scared to come off anon still, but I adore your works! ♡

Not A Bad Sight

Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male), A'jiadh (Male), Zaikeh (Female) x Mechanic!Reader

Word Count: 2179

Summary: The same trio always shows up every month, sometimes even shorter. You've come to learn more about them both in contact and in passing. You work on their ship. They do ask for you by name. You get their craft operating every time. The longer this goes on, the less the trio wants to let you go.

Author Note: This is a fantastic idea! I loved writing this so much. Also, this gave me an idea for anons. For those who are using Anon, could you use an emoji or even a nickname to distinguish everyone. Another thing, I promise I don't bite! If you want to jump into my Dms and rant about Yautjas, I'll be right there with you

Masterlist

Ao3

Sweat dribbled down your forehead. The heat of the place nearly overwhelming if you hadn’t grown use to it day in, day out. A small electrical fan spun on the highest setting and blew slightly cooler air at you. Not too much of a difference. Someone would have to pry the thing out of your melted, sweat hands before you would give it up though.

With your forearm, you swiped away the offending salty drip of water and continued to tighten a bolt. This was such an easy fix, one any of those hunks of meat could easily do themselves. They are known to get their hands dirty.

Those large muscles you knew had to take years to perfect aren’t a sight you would turn away from. Said muscles could easily unlogde this moderate size space rock, pull the damage panelling up, then replace it.

Not even the hardware underneath the panel was damaged. But nope, the trio came sauntering and always asked you by name. Your boss could care less. It earned her money. Money in both of your pockets was a job well done. Though, you came by honesty with them and let them know this was more trouble for their pockets then it was worth to have you fix. All of them insisted you fixed it, trusting their ship in your hands.

For whatever reason, they always wanted you to make all the repairs on their vessel.

Said vessel was sleek, clean, a speed class with just a hair of defense to take a hit or two. The speed came with its downfall when it came to space junk or debris. That’s why it’s here right now.

A grunt surpassed your lips once the last bolt was secured. You proudly smirked down at the completed work then hoped off the wing.

This ship was a beauty to work on. Yautjas rarely let anyone work on their ships. So, to have an opportunity like this fall into your hands. It would be stupid to pass it on to someone else. Especially seeing all three of them walk out of the shop to pass the time. You hated to see them go but the sight was beautiful.

Like the countless times before, you send a ping to Mai’tuiudh. He’s the leader of the bunch. Well… ‘leader’. He takes charge during the transactions but it’s A’jiadh who chats you up. Then, there’s Zaikeh. The lumber giant even to the other two. A female from the pieces of information you’ve been able to pull about Yautjas and their societies.

Due to the day winding down, you stayed up at the front desk and waited for your familiar customers to walk through. A tablet in hand to keep yourself busy until then.

It’s a rarity to see a female, that you know of from personal experience and the universe wide web. The reason is unknown to you but maybe you could pull the information from one of them one day.

Of course, who knows if the Yautjas are purposefully removing knowledge of their inner workings. They don’t actively seek out other species and stick to their own. A forward going species with a serious attitude that hung to the very depths of their DNA.

A soft ding pulled you from your device and glancing at the only door in and out of this place. In walked the trio you’ve grown to know. You stood up and dipped your head in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers,” you greeted with a knowing smirk, your eyes finding Mai in the front.

Said male strolled into the front area and stopped at the counter dividing the four of you. His partners in crime followed in after him and paused at his sides. A’jiadh leans onto the stone tabletop and pushed closer to your personal space. There was a glint in his eyes you’ve grown to learn. He’s a cheeky little fucker and loves to see you act in any submissive way. You didn’t know if this was him personally or a trait among the Yautjas being such a dominant race.

The others showed the same trait but less of an amount. Just in causal passing, you guessed.

Before Mai could have the chance to speak, A’jiadh beat him to the punch. “So, dollface, everything fixed up for us or were you wanting to see us again for encouragement? Because I can give you all encouragement you could ever ask for,” he teased and leaned even closer to you.

Countless times around the forward Yautja, you’ve learned to just stay where you at. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You know you could’ve fixed this yourself. You have all the right tools. Nothing was damaged,” you voiced the situations details again with a helpful tone.

Despite not falling into his tricks, A’jiadh wasn’t discouraged at all. No matter how many times you ignored the flirty comments he would throw at you.

Mai shoulder checked the mottled olive green Yautja to the side and fully stepped up to the plate. “How much?” His voice was gravelly and sent a shiver down your spine every time.

You grabbed the tablet off of the counter and scrolled through the list of customers until landing on them. The price was something you would never be willing to pay for something so simple that a child could do… if they had the strength to get the bolts off. But these are Yautjas. Probably the strongest known species that traveled the universe.

Labor and materials do cost a pretty credit around here though. You’re the best known in the system.

A heft sigh pushed the air out of your lungs. You set the tablet on the tall counter in front of him. “Well, it’s gonna be a pretty five-hundred and six credit repair,” you said and pointed towards the bottom of the page where it was typed out.

A’jiadh ‘oo’ed then lifted one of his upper mandibles, resembling a human-like smirk. “Pretty like you.” You raised a single brow at the Yautja before you put your hands on your hips, jutting one out.

“Love, you couldn’t handle me,” you said and shook your head to feign discouragement to the Yautja. It’s not like you wanted them to give up. No, instead, you wanted them to chase. Predator vs prey.

Fire blazed to life in his teal blue eyes. You weren’t oblivious to their intentions. Far from it. You knew their game as the hunters their species is known for. A game you were more than happy to play along with. But it’ll be a hard game. No easy mode.

“Is that so?” he purred out, muscles tensing as if he was readying himself for a hunt.

Before the game could continue between the two of you, Mai handed back the device. “All paid,” he interrupted and rested an elbow on the high counter afterwards. Your gaze jumped over to him. You took the tablet back and set it off to the side.

“Well, come on folks, your chariot awaits.” They’ve been back here so many times that you didn’t necessarily needed to lead them but decided to anyhow. Again, you would love to be on the other side of them. All of them walking away.

The door opened to reveal the massive hanger with many other vessels in here for repairs. Always busy, always working here. A shop that does good work always has an influx of customers. That’s this shop.

Closer to the front of the line up, sat their beautifully crafted ship. You loved to work on it every time they brough it in. Stunning in style and sleekness. You could never get enough of it. A smile worked its way onto your face before you stopped and about faced. “Here’s your beauty. Everything checked out. I got bored and ran a check on all the systems to ensure they were working properly. No issues. I’m happy to say she has a clean bill of health.”

Zaikeh stopped at your side, facing the ship. She looked down at you. Like usual, the black scaled Yautja stayed quiet and observed you within the silence. It freaked you at first but you have come to learn that’s just how she is.

“Got any questions for me?” you asked the trio before fully releasing the ship back into their care.

A’jaidh chirped and crowded into your space. You didn’t back down and enjoyed his heat brushing against your skin. A better feel than the sweltering heat the hanger gets on average. “What would it take for you to come with us?” he questioned.

Out of all the times you’ve interacted with them, these words surprised you. Your brows shot up to your hair line. Your mouth sputtered for a moment to find the right words. “W-what do you me-an?” Come with them? In what way? You don’t travel very often. The shop keeps you busy and happily wealthy to live in a comfortable apartment by yourself in a safe area on the planet.

He moved closer, your chest to his midriff. You didn’t see it happen before you felt another source of heat trap you to A’jaidh. “I think you know what he means, little one.” The smooth voice of Zaikeh met your ears. You could melt into a puddle from the heat inside of you, boiling your blood to steam.

“Like go with you guys?” you needed clarification before agreeing to anything. All this talk, this game you’ve played was in its last quarter, you had to make the last goal to win.

“Be our mechanic. Only ours. We’ll keep you safe, fed, and pampered,” Mai whispered into your ear, surprising you from his sudden appearance. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. They caught their prey.

You.

“All you have to do is stay with us,” Mai muttered softly in your other ear, somehow moving around quickly. He was showing off his prowess and abilities as a hunter. “Be our mechanic. We’ll take care of you, little ooman.”

Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and gave the idea a thought. The ability to reach for the stars, go anywhere with them. Yeah, the shop was fun, the money was good. But this here, was an opportunity you would die for. Kill for even. Three Yautjas wanted you. You wanted the three Yautjas.

All the plays you endured while playing this game with them is paying off. You swallowed your nerves and straightened your spine before looking to the side at Mai. He was the leader after all. “I’ll go with you,” you accepted, couldn’t deny the way your body vibrated with anticipation and anxiety.

A Cheshire-like grin spread across his alien face. “Good, because it wasn’t a choice. You’re ours. No one is allowed to touch you or even look in your general vicinity,” Mai growled and brushed his knuckled against your cheek.

“Yeah, we aren’t below kidnapping you. But, we’re glad you’ve decided to come willingly,” A’jaidh joined the conversation.

Kidnapping?! “You were going to kidnap me? That doesn’t seem very honorable. Wouldn’t that break your honor code?” you questioned and tilted your head.

The hand that brushed against your cheek snatched your chin to lift up your head. Mai’tuiudh stood up tall before your form. “Honor? Oh sweet thing, we don’t care about honor. We are Bad Bloods after all,” he admitted. Your eyes widened at the realization that these Yautjas aren’t part of the majority of their species society. Instead, they’re the rouges who’ve broke their promise and honor. There was nothing holding them back from killing you.

And you loved it.

The two Yautjas pinning you between them finally backed off and allowed you to have some breathing room. Mai kept his hold on your chin and dragged you closer to him. “You’re ours now, ooman.” Then Mai let go and motioned towards the ship. Without complaint you happily skipped towards the belly of the ship.

Just like them, you knew the ship like the back of your hand. You tapped in the code to lower the ramp and waited for it go fully down. A glance behind you showed they were following you into their ship. Nothing could wipe off the smile on your face. A new, exciting chapter in your life.

#predator #yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Mai'tuiudh #A'jiadh #Zaikeh