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shroomi1e · 1 year

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❝ i object! ❞

kazuha + albedo

summary: you as a noble should naturally marry another noble, despite your love for another. your parents had managed to pry your lover off of you and get you wedded to a powerful nobleman- that is, until your past lover comes barging through the doors on your wedding day.

cw: gn!reader, arranged/forced marriage, teeny tiny bit of alcohol, angst to comfort

what i listened to while writing: wave - wave to earth

a/n: *slowly crawls out of my cave* hey guys. it's me again😭 i randomly got the motivation to write again, idk what demons possessed me to write this in the span of 5 hours but at least i have new content!!!! i was gonna do this with more characters but kazuha and albedo were the only ones i see pulling this cheesy-typa stuff tbh

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kazuha

“…what?”

your gaze fell down towards the wooden docks you were standing on. kazuha frowned, his grasp on your hand loosening. he was aboard the crux, and the crew was preparing to leave inazuma for another trip to liyue.

“i’m from one of the tri-commissions, kazuha,” you said defeatedly. “it’s over for us now. i’m going to be wedded as an alliance with another commission. i… i’m sorry…” but before kazuha could respond, the large ship began to sail away, his hands completely slipping away from yours.

kazuha leaned over the edge of the ship, watching your figure get smaller and smaller. though he hoped you would at least give him a wave goodbye, you simply turned around and left the docks of ritou, leaving him saddened and confused.

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kazuha spent the next month lost in his thoughts. ink blots were all that filled the pages of his journal now that he’s lost his muse.

“it’s over for us now.”

those words played in his mind like a broken record in hopes that maybe he could find a sense of doubt from those words, just a hint that it wasn’t truly over. he’s tried to understand, truly. but the thought of losing you ate kazuha up from the inside, especially knowing that he had no control over it. there weren’t any flaws in him or you that caused this, only circumstance. and that stung his heart more than anything.

despite kazuha’s wishes and prayers, the wedding would happen either way. news eventually reached his ears that two commissions from inazuma would be joined through a marriage between the two heirs, and that was when kazuha truly felt like he was losing control. you were being swept away so suddenly, carried away in the arms of another man. what was he to do?

you were being fitted into a kimono that very second, the maids tying the knots and wrapping the fabric around your body. your limbs felt heavy like lead, your head hanging low like rotten fruit on a tree. you tried to live in a fantasy just for at least a few moments, imagining that kazuha was the one you were being wed to, not a nobleman.

kazuha almost felt like a dream now that he was gone, as if he was only a fleeting imagination before you had to wake up to reality. the ephemeral touches, the honey-dipped sunsets, the smell of salt and the sea. that was all simply an illusion. you had to go back to the wooden floors, the inked papers and the melting candles. this was reality now, where everything was out of your control.

“this is all for the sake of our family, you know that?” your father’s voice broke your train of thought. “think of this as a way to pay us back for raising you. you’re much better off with a nobleman than that wandering fugitive anyways.”

you grit your teeth and tightened your fist, your knuckles whitening. “i know.”

the ceremony went through in a daze, the sacred sake tasting bitter on your tongue. a part of you felt like you should’ve just jumped on that ship along with kazuha. regret sat in your stomach like a sickly bag of bleach. but you knew it was for the better, both for you and your family.

after the vows, the priest then asked, “does anyone here object to the wedding?”

a heavy silence followed. the two of you were heirs to the biggest commissions in inazuma, it was obvious that nobody would dare to object this wedding. your gaze fell further down in defeat. it was really happening now.

“i object!”

your head snapped up from the ground and turned towards the voice. at the end of the crowd stood kazuha, the wind blowing softly through his hair, the golden light from the sunset outlining his silhouette.

emotions rushed through your chest: happiness, regret, sadness, doubt, and guilt. the cup you were holding dropped to the ground and shattered. the crowd began to murmur and gossip.

“kazuha,” you breathed out.

the crowd parted to make way for your lover, who confidently walked towards you and held his hand out. everything around you seemed to suddenly disappear the moment your fingertips met his. it was only the two of you now.

“kazuha… what on earth are you doing here?”

“i just need you to answer one question for me,” kazuha said softly. “do you trust me?”

by the way he eagerly interlocked his fingers with yours, his intentions were obvious. if you were to answer this question, it would mean throwing away everything you’ve known thus far: your family, your possessions, your wealth, your inheritance, your responsibilities. everything. but with the way kazuha was silently pleading you with his eyes… how could say no?

you let out a shaky breath. “i do.”

kazuha merely smiled in return, his eyes softening as if to tell you that everything was going to be alright. that he understood your choices, and that all you need to do was take this final leap of faith.

“hurry up kazuha!” beidou’s voice interrupted. a few meters away, the crux was anchored to the docks, the crew eagerly waiting to set sail. “the guards might come and take ya anytime soon!”

kazuha held your hand tightly and began running towards the docks, the two of you giggling as he helped you up on the ship. the nobleman, priest, and the crowd all watched in disbelief as you hopped onto the crux, sailing away with the samurai.

the crew cheered as you and kazuha shared a kiss of reunion, the anchor lifting from the seafloor and the two of you sailing away into the golden sun, just like you were meant to be.

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albedo

“i…see.” albedo’s eyes wander off to nowhere in particular after hearing your explanation. he blinks a few times as if to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“it’s not your fault, albedo, and neither is it mine,” you added. “i hope you understand.”

for the first time since albedo was created, he feels numb. his fingertips lose grip as it all finally settles in. you’re leaving him for another man.

of course, he knows that’s not really the case. albedo understands your circumstance as well as the political powers at play, but at the end of the day, that’s what’s happening, right? you’re being wedded off to another man, which of course means you’ll have to leave him.

and when he sees you take off your ring- the ring he gave you- and put it on his desk, his heart shatters. you silently take your leave, disappearing into the dragonspine snow. albedo’s gaze is immediately pulled to the golden band on his desk, which seemed so much duller now that it wasn’t on your finger.

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projects seem more pointless than ever before, and piles of crumpled up drafts fill albedo’s trash bin. he’s taken down all the portraits of you in his home because it was too painful to bear, yet he can’t deny that he was still hopelessly in love with you. the thought of you standing at the altar with another man made albedo positively sick. and there was nothing he could do about it.

he even decided to abandon his projects to visit the city in hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you, but you never seemed to be there. he’d wander for what seemed like hours, only for it to be in vain. ‘of course,’ he tells himself, ‘they’d be busy preparing for the wedding.’

the ring in his pocket weighs heavier than before. he takes it out and twirls it in his hand, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it almost blindingly. the church bells ring in the distance, as well as the melody from the church organ.

wait… the organ is playing.

albedo clasps his hand around the ring tightly before frantically running up the stairs towards the cathedral. the scent of flowers fills his nostrils as he makes his way past the statue of barbatos and climbs the final flight of stairs until he’s met with the wooden doors of the cathedral.

he won’t lose you. he can’t lose you.

albedo’s hands feel heavy as his palm rests flat against the door. once the organs stop playing, the faint voice of a priest could be heard from outside. he can hear the nobleman say his vows, then you. his flat palm turns into a fist as he contemplates what to do next. he’s never liked crowds, nor has he ever liked being the center of attention. this could certainly ruin his reputation, and hell, the clan you’re getting married to might even get him fired but-

the thought of you being by his side again gives albedo more than enough courage to push against the doors.

“does anyone object to this wedding?”

with one strong push, the doors swing open. sunlight spills into the cathedral and forms a path of light leading to you. and dear lord barbatos, you look breathtaking.

albedo watches as you turn around in confusion. the ring you were holding in one hand clatters to the floor, echoing down the hall.

though albedo had planned on walking towards you, he couldn’t help but start running down the aisle. panting, he turns to the priest. “i object this wedding. i am their rightful lover, am i not?”

you step down from the altar, your hands reaching to caress his face and gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “even after everything i told you… you still came. i tried so hard to hurt your feelings, so why are you here?”

despite the tears pooling in your eyes, you’re smiling. and that’s all albedo needed to see. “i must be going insane, y/n. i’m not one to act like this.”

he kneels down right then and there, holding up the ring with two of his fingers. “will you marry me?”

you take a moment to look down at albedo, who’s kneeling before you in a silent plead. the faint bags under his eyes are proof enough that he’s missed you. your family would hate you for this. doing this would mean to be shunned and disowned from your clan. the support you once had would dissipate in an instant. albedo might be put in danger as well. but you’d rather have nothing and albedo rather than everything but albedo.

“yes,” you said before sliding the ring on your ring finger, right where it belonged. you grab albedo’s arm and run out the cathedral, much to the protest of your family sitting at the pews.

you skip down the steps in a hurry before turning your head to see albedo smiling softly. you’re dolled up, and the afternoon glow of the sun hits your face just perfectly. and with his ring resting on your finger, albedo can’t help but simply adore you.

‘you are killing me softly,’ he thinks, ‘yet you seem to be the only thing keeping me alive.’

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hunnylagoon · 4 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Pt1: Coming Down With Me

Ellie Williams x reader

I once met a girl with skin like kiwi. Even the butterflies were drawn to her, landing on the top of her nose, the dip in her palm. But the kiwi stung my tongue, scarred my lips and made me bleed. I do not care. Cover me in your kiwi kisses, burn my mouth and scar my flesh. Bleach my eyes and dip my heart in lemon juice. Sing your sickly sweet words until my ears bleed.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood best friends until you grew up. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / people are mean lol / best friends to enemies to lovers / roommate! Ellie

Part two here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I know everything about you,

You know everything about me.

I had always been bound to the earth while Ellie danced with the stars in the night sky among delusion and dreams. Though, more so than anything, we were bound to one another.

Our parents were friends, even before we were born. They met at summer camp when they were teenagers, the same camp that Ellie and I were eventually shipped off to every summer. Of course, I have no recollection of when I was an infant, only stories that my parents shared with me; My dad told me that I learned to crawl backwards before I learned to crawl forwards. Joel kept a photo album of his girl.

I can't remember days of crawling around and babbling incoherently, but I can tell you what I remember.

Five years old- Kindergarten

Despite the air being unbearable hot, it was infused with excitement as Ellie and me set foot in the petting zoo. I had never seen so many animals in one place, my little brain was going nuts. Accompanied by the gentle hum of content animals, the aroma of straw, and the distant melody of joyful chatter, the petting zoo rang true to its rustic charm.

Ellie, with her auburn curls bouncing in the breeze, led the way, her eyes widened at the sight of a fluffy alpaca lazily grazing in the sunshine. I giggled as we approached a pen filled with adorable piglets, their tiny snouts sniffing the pure air far away from the dirty stench of the city.

Our parents, watching with affectionate smiles, guided us to the lamb enclosure where soft, woolly creatures nuzzled against tiny palms. Ellie's fingers gently traced the contours of a lamb's ear, and she couldn't resist a delighted squeal as she felt the velvety nose of a goat.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the scene, the families strolled through the meandering paths, passing by a pond where ducks quacked merrily. Ellie and I, hand in loveable hand, marvelled at the wonders of the animal kingdom, our hearts brimming with the pure joy of discovery and a blooming friendship.

Seven years old- Grade Two

On this particular day, Ellie and I had been messing around in her backyard; that's all we did on the weekends at that age, you couldn't get us to go inside. We spent the morning entwined in daffodils and hyacinth that Joel has so tenderly nurtured, careful not to crush the dainty flowers beneath our wild flailing bodies.

We had the brilliant idea to paint rocks so we had been searching her yard for the perfect flat stones we had in mind. Ellie picked up a rock and immediately threw it back down, jumping away with a shriek.

This had piqued my curiosity (As well as Joels who sat on the back porch, watching us), I went over to where she stood petrified and found nothing more than a little snake staring up at her. I dropped the stones I had been carrying and bent over to get a better look at it, it was brown and had a few white vertical stripes cascading up its thin body.

I slowly moved my hand outwards to touch but was swiftly interrupted by Joel scooping me up "That's enough of that kiddo."

Nine years old- Grade Four

Joel's house garnered an expansive backyard and just past the old fence that Ellie and I had thrown one too many softballs at was a lush forest. I would always clamour up the wood fence and poke my little head over it to try and gather a glimpse of wildlife, Ellie usually had to give me a little boost. "Hold still!" She hissed with her arms wrapped around my torso to help lift me, my scrawny arms shook as I tried to pull myself up even further.

The wood rot of the ancient fence finally set in and with the both of us pressing our mighty weight against it collapsed with the fence. We heard the splitting of wood, I got the worst end of the stick, toppling over and putting my hands out to protect myself. I could've sworn that I heard my wrist break like a crunch.

While I did what felt like a three-sixty frontflip over the fence just for my small head to come down on the end of it with a solid smack, Ellie had just flopped on top of it, green eyes widening in shock when she saw my once straight arm now had an abnormal bump coming out from my wrist. "What's wrong with your hand?"

"I don't know I'm probably dying!" I screamed as loud as my voice could carry, that was the first time I had felt adrenaline run through my veins. "You killed me!"

"No, I didn't!" She retorted, scrambling off the fence and back up to her feet. She was clad in a Jurassic Park T-shirt that she practically was swimming in and those pink and orange plaid Bermuda shorts that any kid in the 2000s owned. "Dad!" Ellie yelled, calling for Joel.

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and finally, I released the sob that had been building up in my throat. She was almost dumbstruck and just ended up kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She muttered.

10 years old- Grade Five

Ellie had been practicing guitar the entire time I was at her house, Joel had gifted her his old guitar and she was so set on perfecting every cord, every half-hour she would ask for a song recommendation and then flip through the songbook she got to find it.

I was curled up in her bed reading The Hunger Games over again "Els, are you team Peeta or Gale?" I was always at Ellie's house, mine was too busy all the time; I had three siblings, Naomi and Aaron who were twins and two years younger than me and my brother Elijah who was three years older than me. I loved going to her house on Saturdays so I could sleep in and wriggle my way out of going to church. Even though her house was right across the street from mine and my parents would bang on Joel's door, he always covered for me.

"Uh," She was distracted by something in her songbook "Team Katniss?"

I nod in approval to myself as she isn't paying attention "You know who Gale reminds me of?" I ask and without Ellie giving me a response I answer anyway "Luke, I think I kind of like him."

Those are the words that get her to look at me "Ew, he's so weird."

"He's nice to me."

She wrinkles her nose in distaste then shrugs, returning to her guitar which sits awardly in her scrawny frame.

12 years old- Grade Seven

"Fuck!" I yell, kicking the grimy green dumpster in the graffiti-covered ally out of anger, though I kicked it a little too hard now my foot hurts I refuse to admit it "Fuck I hate them!"

Ellie leans against the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, our bikes discarded on the ground while I hopelessly rant to my friend about my parents. She doesn't say much, just little nods of agreement. My parents had caught me skipping church and they laid into me, saying that I had no respect for them or god and whether that was true or not didn't matter, I was full of pre-teen angst and needed to call my friend to go for a bike ride around town.

"She fucking tore my room apart, I never see them get mad at Aaron or Naomi!" I drag my hands down my face before I look back at the dumpster and kick it again "Ow, cunt!" I'm now hopping on one foot while my knee bends my other leg and I hold my beaten red Converse, covered in doodles, to soothe the pain of my poor toes. It's moments like this that remind me why I love Ellie, because as stupid as I look hobbling around and cussing, she doesn't laugh at me even though I know she wants to.

After a little bit of me aimlessly yelling I finally wind down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember those breathing exercises that we were taught at school assemblies. "Thanks for listening to me talk shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," She shrugs "I've seen you do worse."

This cracks a smile on my face, I turn my head and am met with the Jackson skyline, a beautiful pink sunset on the horizon "Sun's setting," I say.

"Sleepover?" Ellie asks.

"Sleepover," I confirm.

13 years old- Grade Eight

We were thirteen when our parents shoved cash into our hands and dropped us at the mall to go back to school shopping by ourselves for the first time. Every parent's nightmare was a busy mall so when they figured us old enough to venture into the dreaded foodcourt on our own, believed they were taking that opportunity.

Ellie had bought a couple of T-shirts and hoodies here and there, not too particular about what she was buying, though I was very nit-picky over what I wore so I forced Ellie to judge every single outfit that I wore and rate it, she gave the same answer every single time "It looks fine."

"Cool but I don't wanna look fine, I wanna look pretty," I say in frustration, walking back into the dressing room to try on another outfit. Ellie is sitting in the fitting room on a pink velvet couch, arms crossed and waiting for me to finish. "How's this?" I ask, walking out of the changing stall and giving her a little twirl.

"It looks fine- I mean good, everything looks good on you." She sounds almost exasperated. Ellie's hair was still that vibrant auburn colour that my mother was obsessed with, it had yet to fade out into a duller brown with age.

"Really?" I perk up just the slightest.

"Yeah, you look really pretty." She gives me a little nod of confirmation. I know that she's only saying that because she wants to go to the food court and get a cinnamon bun but I believe her anyway.

14 years old- Grade Nine

We were just nearing the end of the second half of our soccer game. It was the tournament and we were only a point away from placing first in the league, the thought of it had kept me up all week I was running off of Subway sandwiches and Gatorade.

Riley (the midfielder) swiftly passed the ball to me before she was surrounded by the other team's defence, I looked up to the clock and there were only seconds left in the match. I let my instincts take over, my parents forcing me into soccer since elementary school was not going to wind up useless. My footwork took me up the right wing just before the penalty box.

I wasn't paying enough attention to notice the tall blonde girl in a slick back ponytail closing in on me. I hear Ellie shout my name and that's all I need to make this last pass, I barely even looked up before power-driving the ball to Ellie who was merely six metres away from me. I slipped onto the muddied field with that kick, watching Ellie waste no time to score our final goal the second her cleat touched the ball.

The clock deadlocks and I drag myself off the ground running towards my best friend, I jump on her almost taking her down with me though she manages to steady herself. "I fucking love you!" I scream hugging her with all of the force I can muster. She hugs me in return, unable to get any words out between her laughs. The team is quick to swarm us, everyone is shouting about our well-deserved victory but not one person is louder than Joel in the stands.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Snow was falling as I stood in the foyer of the high school, still waiting for my date for the winter formal to arrive. Conner had asked me out weeks ago, we hadn't talked much since though I just figured that was because he was shy. I even left school early to get ready and spent hours meticulously pinning every hair into place and adjusting my navy blue satin dress so it would drape across my body in just the right way.

My sister, Naomi was an aspiring makeup artist so I let her dust my eyelids in silver glitter, I forced Warren to drive me. All of that was just for me to get stood up. Conner hadn't texted me all day, I knew he wasn't coming that didn't stop me from forcing denial on myself. "Hey," I heard a soft voice sound behind me, I wasn't surprised to see Ellie. Even though our parents were no longer friends, we were close as ever.

"Hi," My voice was hushed and feeble.

"The dance started an hour ago," She said, that night she had been wearing a white button-up with a pair of jeans and her hair half up. It was clear the dance wasn't as big a deal to her as it was to me. All she had done was ask Riley to go with her and call it a day. Despite her lack of effort, she looks beautiful as ever "I don't think he's coming," She said bluntly.

That's the exact moment I felt myself crack, tears welled up in my eyes and I lurched forward to hug her, flailing my arms helplessly to search for comfort "Then why did he ask me to go with him?" My sobs were drowned out by the sound of Kesha blasting in the overcrowded gym.

"I don't know, but he's an idiot for standing you up," Ellie holds me close and I never want her to let go "I wouldn't have ever done that to you."

16 years old- Grade Eleven

This is where things begin to fall apart. I found Ellie on the back porch of some random guy's house at a party. "I figured I would find you out here," I say, taking a seat next to her on the wooden steps, I hug my knees close to my chest.

"What's up?" Beside me, Ellie is unnervingly calm, she nurses a joint, taking a long hit and letting the smoke turn to clouds.

"Conner kissed me," I say cutting to the chase

I can tell she doesn't like the thought, she hated Conner, ever since he stood me up at the winter formal but she bites her tongue "You guys gonna date?"

"I think so."

"Good for you."

"I don't know if I liked it," My eyebrows are furrowed, and I pull my knees in even further, inhaling the crisp autumn air and the smell of Ellie, she smells like cannabis, firewood and bar soap.

"What do you mean?" Ellie puts out the end of her joint and tucks what remains of it into an empty Altoids container.

"Nothing," I dismiss it, "It doesn't matter, I just wanted to talk to you," Ellie had softened every burden for me since we were girls. "Um, so, my parents are sending me to boarding school next year."

"No, they're not-

"They are."

Ellie doesn't seem so calm anymore, she adjusts her body to face mine and she's so close I swear to god I could've counted every freckle on her face. "Why, what did you do?" The way she looks at me makes me wish that she was a boy.

"Nothing!" I retort "They think I'm straying from god, it's a Christian school." That was my code for 'they think I have a crush on you and I rather not get disowned by my super religious parents!'

"come stay with me and Joel-

"Ellie, please," I place a hand on her thigh "I don't think I can get away from this one."

That was at the end of September, it only got worse from there. I partially wished that I didn't tell Ellie that I had to leave, every time we hung out it just felt like words were hanging between us like birds on a wire and neither of us could say what we wanted. I forced myself to distance myself from her, I didn't know how else to handle my feelings.

She would blow up my phone and come by my house even visit my work but I just told her that I was busy. I could tell that she didn't believe my excuses for a second, she had English with my new boyfriend, Conner and would get him to relay messages and notes to me.

It didn't get easier to ignore her, my family prying about where she had been. I never told my parents that Ellie was gay, though I know they had always had a suspicion and that's why they could never love her all the way completely, the way Joel loved me and looked out for me. My mom and dad liked that I swapped out Ellie for Conner, by February, my dad even started to call him son.

In March Ellie and I had stopped talking completely, she gave up on texting me and coming by my house just for my siblings to lie about my whereabouts. It hurt to see the resentment gleam in her eye every time she passed me in the hallway.

She didn't speak a word to me until the start of the summer bonfire which was custom in our town. If I had known she would be there I never even would have thought about going. I rather not rehash this awful night, not right now just know that it ended with some alcohol, a bit of blood in the sand and me telling Ellie 'I would pick him over you every single time.' Yikes, that's not a good look for me. I spent the rest of my summer burying her in the back of my mind until boarding school finally came upon me and I graduated with friends I didn't like in a place that didn't feel like home.

I was sixteen then now I'm nineteen, no longer a girl but not yet a woman. Those were some key moments of our friendship. I'm not so sure why I felt so mature at the age of sixteen. I had taken a gap year and loved every minute of it, I backpacked in Australia, worked as a camp counsellor in the summer then left to work at a turtle conservatory in Bali, I was making pennies but the experience was worth it.

I arrived at my new home sunkissed with Ellie far in the back of my mind. I didn't know much about who I would be rooming with, I had only spoken to Dina over a Zoom call who was a friendly girl with warm eyes and ink-black hair spilling over her shoulders. I just prayed that none of them were Craigslist killers.

It took me entirely too long to find parking, when I finally did, I grabbed two of my suitcases, unable to hold anything else, the rest of the boxes jammed into my car would have to wait. I read over the text that Dina sent me what seemed to be a million times to make sure I had the right address. It was a small-ish one-story flat with brown walls that had white accents along corners and the doorway with a wood-panelled gable roof. As far as college housing went, I was happy. It looked like something I would've made in the Sims when I was a teenager.

I walk to the front door, the entrance is framed by intricately carved moulding, its details telling a story of craftsmanship and tradition. The wood, polished to a warm, inviting glow, exudes a sense of richness and history. I knocked on the door and heard a voice shouting that she would get it.

The door swings open and I'm met face to face with Dina "Hey!" She smiled "It's nice to meet you, I think you'll like it here," She held the door wide open, motioning for me to go in, and I obliged. "Let me give you a tour." Dina is clad in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt and her hair has been pulled back into a messy ponytail.

The layout of the house seemed somewhat odd to me, there was a corridor straight ahead when you walked in, the first room was the laundry room and contained the washer and dryer with some hampers and shelves of detergent and laundry freshener. "This is the laundry room, we have a wash schedule along with a chore schedule so we will put you on that tonight," Dina told me, I just nodded politely in response feeling a little too awkward and out of place to say anything.

"Alright so this is the kitchen, there's a half bathroom beside it," She says, swinging her arms wide open for exaggeration I can see the chore chart hanging on the walls, it's written in chalk, and it is the laundry schedule. There are little laminated tags with each person's name on them, though I can't quite make out the names from where I am standing. The fridge is covered in postcards, magazine cutouts, polaroids, and bright magnets of papayas and flowers, I automatically assumed this was Dina despite not knowing the other roommates. The kitchen is open with no walls to hide it, the oven and dishwasher are built into counters against the walls as well as the sink which i spotless at the moment, there isn't a dining table but a kitchen island with stools. Past the island you can see the living room, there are two grey couches with decorative pillows and fuzzy throw blankets, a coffee table that looked handcrafted with care and of course a TV.

Have I mentioned there are plants everywhere? Like everywhere. "Okay, so," Dina keeps on moving and I trail behind with my suitcases, over there is my room and Cat's and Abby's," She points to the left of the living room where there is a short hallway with three doors, one on each wall of it. "There's Cat now," She waves at her roommate.

Cat is relatively tall, she has black hair that's tied into a bun, and she's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a black tank top, I can see her abundance of tattoos. She has one sleeve of laurel cascading up her arm and the other is patchwork done right, each separate piece blends almost seamlessly into the next. "I like your tattoos," I say, not wanting to sit in any more silence.

She grins at me "Thanks, love," I nod in response to her, Cat looks down at the suitcases that I'm lugging around "Dina, take this poor girl to her room already."

"I was just getting there," Dina teases and motions for me to follow her "So over here is the bathroom and of course your room, I left your copy of the house key on your mattress," She opens it up. The bedroom is completely blank aside from the boxed bedframe, shelf, vanity and mattress that I had to send over prior. There's a built-in closet in the wall.

I put my suitcases on the ground "I'm gonna grab the rest of my stuff from my car," I offer up a tight-lipped smile.

"Wait a second," She takes my hand and then knocks on the bedroom door parallel to mine. "I'm coming in!" Dina announces pushing the door open, there's a brunette girl hunched over her desk. My breath hitches in my throat when she turns around "This is Ellie."

I can see the panic that momentarily takes over Ellie when she spots me before it's replaced by a false coolness, "Hey," She says before turning back to her laptop and putting her headphones back on. It felt like my heart had shut down, why the fuck did I sign the lease?

"Sorry," Dina shuts Ellie's door "She's not the friendliest of the bunch but she'll warm up to you eventually," Dina walks to the front door with you Abby should be around here somewhere."

I had gotten so frustrated trying to set up my bed frame that I sheepishly left my room and asked for help, god bless Abby. She was putting everything together so easily, I watched her in awe as she finished adding the final screw to my bedframe. "Want help setting up the mattress?"

"Yes, please," I say, I grab one end of the mattress while Abby gets the other, she tells me to lift on three and I listen, she carries the majority of the weight but it still feels like an accomplishment on my part. "So does everyone here go to Northridge?"

"Yeah, except for Cat, she's a tattoo apprentice."

"Cool, cool," I search for words, "What are you majoring in?"

"Kinesiology," It makes sense, I could've called that by looking at the fit gym rat who was now sitting on my bed. "You?"

"Wildlife biology,"

"So you like animals and conservation and stuff?"

"Mhm," I nod "It's honestly kind of hard to not have any animals in my life." I was missing all my pets back home, when I wasn't with them I was working at a conservatory or at a summer camp where I took care of all of the horses, and Ellie's dog, Achilles.

"You'll get used to it, living with Dina is the same thing as living with an animal," She smiles and for the first time, I feel comfortable. Abby watching me with her blue eyes as I begin to unpack my abundance of boxes, I kind of just dump everything onto the ground because I can't remember which box has what, the first thing I search for are my coat hangers. I dump out a box with a bible, wall cross, and rosery and golden cross necklace from a box of random knickknacks. "You religious?"

"Kind of?" I question it myself "Not really, it's just my family, I packed that stuff to make my mom happy."

Abby nods "I get it."

"You do?"

She backtracks "No, but I can try to."

I shake my head, "I wouldn't try if I were you, I spent nineteen years trying to get away from it." I was sure other Christian homes were healthy but mine wasn't one of them, the way my parents obsessed over Jesus was honestly frightening.

"Hey, do you wanna come watch a movie when your done unpacking?" Abby asked, "Get to know your new roommates a little better."

I don't entirely want to, I wasn't ready to talk to Ellie. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the fact that I was living with her and that she was pretending she didn't know me, despite this, my words betrayed me "For sure."

I sat on one of the couches beside Abby, I made myself as small as I could, thinking that maybe I could make myself disappear. Cat and Ellie crammed themselves on the other while Dina took the plush armchair. I felt so out of place everyone here had relationships, I had one with Ellie before I severed it 'Grown Ups' was playing on the flatscreen though it seemed I was the only one paying attention.

The four girls all laughed and talked their way through the movie, Abby, Cat, and Dina would ask me a question here and there but I didn't know them well enough to pitch in. I kept telling myself that I needed to push through, if Spiderman could do it, so could I.

I didn't even finish the movie, halfway through I excused myself saying I was tired which wasn't necessarily a lie. It was difficult to fathom how well Ellie was playing it off, acting like she never met me. I walk into the bathroom, clean towel in hand, ready to scrub off the stress of today. Beside the mirror, I see a cardstock poster decorated with bright markers and doodles.

HOUSE RULES

#1 No underwear left in the bathroom

#2 Wash your dishes

#3 Break it? Tell Abby

#4 No smoking inside

#5 Privates are private!

#6 Pls don't drink and drive (We have a couch)

#7 Give your beloved roommates a heads up before having someone over

#8 This is a residence of women so the seat goes down!!!

#9 Respect the bedrooms

#10 Having sex? Keep it quiet

#11 NO DRAMA!!!!!!!!

#12 Follow chore and wash chart

#13 Don't eat what's not yours! (Without asking)

I finish reading the last bit and mutter to myself "Wasn't planning on it." I run the water so hot that it feels cold and I'm quick to not use all of the hot water and have my roommates hate me on my first night here. Everyone has their little drawers in the bathroom, mine is empty aside from some floss and cotton pads that the girl before me left behind. I make a mental note to make use of my bathroom drawer tomorrow and fill it with makeup remover or conditioner, or something like that.

Brushing my teeth and wrapping myself in a strawberry towel that I had purchased at a craft fair, I open the bathroom door, I can see the light of the TV and the sound of chatter from the living room. However, I ignore it and make a B-line to my bedroom. Even though I had spent hours unpacking and pinning up posters it still didn't seem homey.

I slip into shorts and a t-shirt, leaving my hair as is and throw myself onto my bed. My towel is discarded onto my bathroom floor. When I turn on my phone I am bombarded my messages from my parents, my mother has probably sent me twelve Google pins to the closest churches, I answer her with a thumb-up emoji and settle into my bed to scroll through social media and see how much fun all of my friends are having.

Fucking Ellie. She's plaguing my thoughts, I think of what I said to her and it makes me cringe, I want to smother myself with my satin pillow. I don't even have food to eat, grocery shopping wasn't something that I put on my priority list and right about now I was but Ellie, god, why was I such a dick? Because I didn't know what else to do- whatever, I was a scared teenager. What would you have done? Probably kiss her you lesbo.

Lord, it makes me sick to think about what could've been.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Ellie and I were sitting at a fire pit at her uncle Tommy's lake house. It was a Fourth of July party except we were the only teenagers there; everyone else was friends of Tommy and Maria or some distant relatives of Ellie's or children of said people.

After five years of practicing day and night, Ellie had just about mastered the acoustic guitar, she played and I sang, wrapped up in her flannel, I was tucked close next to her.

She struck every cord perfectly and I began to sing absentmindedly, the song that had been carved into my brain. Ellie looked so insanely beautiful illuminated only by fire and the stars that hung in the sky, if it hadn't been a sin I would've kissed her.

Talking to her felt as holy as praying to god but I knew it was as sinful as worshipping the devil.

If it was so wrong why was I born in God's image?

Her gentle hand strummed on the chords of the guitar, the same calloused hand that had once turned water into wine. Her laughter was the sound of a church choir

I wish I told her how much I liked her but what would've happened if I did? What would my parents think, they would kill me.

Part of me didn't care how my parents would react, if I spoke up, I could say goodbye to my inheritance and having college paid for. Maybe that was an unfair assumption to make on my part. Ugh. FUCK, I don't know, let's get to the next part of the story.

I couldn't sleep that night, I thought maybe a glass of water would soothe me, well I didn't really think that but I was hungry and thirsty and water was the only thing in that house I had the right to ingest. I figured that I could fill myself with water and zip to Denny's in the morning then grab some groceries.

Poking my head out of my door, I checked to see if anyone was still awake before gingerly taking hushed steps towards the kitchen, I was trying to be as light as Thumbelina. I hadn't noticed Ellie bumming on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"You cooking all of that non-existent food you brought?" She jeered. Oh, now she wanted to talk to me.

"I was gonna have some warm water soup for dinner and chew on pistachio shells from the cup holder in my car for dessert," I answer "I'm treating myself tonight." She didn't think it was funny at all, a few years ago she would've been cackling at my subpar joke, but now she just seemed unamused. "Sheesh, tough crowd."

She stays silent.

"You used to think I was funny," I say.

"I also used to think the tooth fairy was real."

"Harsh," I mutter. Turning the tap on and sticking a finger underneath it to test the temperature. I put my hummingbird mug underneath it and let it fill. "Hey, Ellie," She doesn't answer "Have you told them any bad things about me?"

She nearly scoffs "No, believe it or not, I don't talk about you, I don't even think about you," There's venom in her voice "You haven't crossed my mind since you walked through that door."

"Why are you pretending you don't know me-

"Because I don't fucking like you," She says it like it's so obvious and it honestly is in this moment "Just because you're pretty and you act like a sweet little Christain girl, that doesn't mean shit."

"I'm not trying to act like anything-

"Yeah, well it seems pretty insincere to me," Ellie seethed and I could feel a sting in my heart, I would do some pretty horrendous things for a time machine right about now. I can tell that there won't be any salvaging for this, she hates me to death and rightfully so.

This is where I give up "Okay, sorry," I grab my hummingbird mug and retreat to my room.

I endured four months of that.

Ellie was pushed to the back of my mind while I ran through classes and got a job as a waitress at a stake house. I did everything in my power to keep myself busy, to keep her out of my head but she was always there, she hung around like a song I can't shake, like I'm haunted by the melody.

Some nights when the city decides to quiet down I can hear her play guitar, and I'll quietly hum along to it. Songs she used to sing for me, she now sings for another woman, another soul. I knew that she had girls over, but I never got to meet them as Ellie did everything in her power to pretend I didn't exist.

The only communication I got with her was in the roommate's group chat, and it was always brief.

Ellie: Having a friend over tomorrow night

D-manz: Friend? With benefits??????????

Kit-Cat: Nah they're hardly even friends, just benefits

Abs: Don't get her pregnant

Me: 👍

As long as I was with the girls, Ellie was not. She avoided me like the plague, it was like she despised my existence. If we go clubbing, she takes a separate taxi, petty if you ask me. The girls knew something happened between us but they couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was Dina's conspiracy that Ellie used to date one of my friends and broke her heart. While I bonded with Cat, Dina, and Abby, Ellie would pretend to like me. She would occasionally laugh at my jokes or ask how my shift was when Dina was in the room.

Trust me when I say I would rather forget than dwell on it but it was impossible. I know that I'm nothing more than an obstacle to her, a stain on her bedsheets, a sore in her mouth, but she was still my diamond in the rough. I will willingly ignore all of her cutthroat words and her jagged edges.

Because I know everything about us.

824 notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 8 months

Text

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 2 — 𝖕𝖙 1 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 5.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, smut, phone sex, wee bit of angst, brief mention of the word 'daddy'

notes - vibrating with both excitement and fear, but hoping y'all love this like you loved the last one!! also on ao3! ♥

Johnny was right to send you to bed when he did because you're already struggling to get through the day, and on any less sleep, you might have fallen asleep at your desk. Clearly, you're terrible at making decisions for yourself, if that wasn't already evidenced by the nearly empty fridge accompanied by the pile of empty takeout containers.

It's not even the end of the workday yet, and you're beat—except staying up with Johnny was so worth it, getting to hear his voice and everything he said was complete bliss. You only wish he was here now, whispering in your ear and making your day go by quicker. Unfortunately, the sad reality is that beyond your good morning text, you haven't heard from him since, and you hate that you already feel like you're suffering from withdrawals.

Again, that could be the lack of sleep, or adequate nutrition, or the fact that lately you haven't exactly been the most social person, and you've definitely been missing social contact. All of that missing need you just want to be filled by Johnny, Johnny, Johnny—his name like a chanted prayer in your mind.

You at least have the sense of mind to focus when you need to, but at any idle moment, Johnny crawls back into your brain. Your mind drifts to wondering what he's up to, wondering where in the world they've shipped him off to this time—what timezone is he even in? What hemisphere?

5 p.m. comes round sooner than you expect, and you find yourself logging off from your work laptop with a relieved sigh. You might be exhausted from lack of sleep, but Johnny's arrival in your life left you energised in a way you hadn't felt in so long. Every part of you hums with excitement, thinking about what the future might hold.

You have to keep snapping yourself out of getting lost in the fantasy, even as you find yourself rereading through texts and committing Johnny's words to memory. The last time you did this still sticks in the back of your mind, still stings—someone who came into your life and was everything until they were nothing. Someone who said they could be trusted as they broke down your barriers.

The aching loneliness was too much, so you'd run from it straight into something worse, not even realising how easily you fell into the trap.

Your thoughts were spiraling, and you needed a distraction, so you put on the TV in the hopes of getting lost in the shitty reality dating show you've been watching lately.

A few hours later, the buzz of your phone pulls you from the drama of the screen—your spirits soaring as you see the little icon you're rapidly growing attached to.

Evening bonnie, hope you're not napping too close to bed time.

hi!! no... for once, lol. how was your day?

Long, but thoughts of you got me through ;) how was yours?

The rapid responses mean your smile never has time to waver, as your eyes are glued to the screen watching as the messages are read, the app tells you he is typing and then another one of his messages appears.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you eagerly respond.

somehow managed to not fall asleep at my desk, i would've napped but...

But?

didn't want to risk missing any messages from you.

Johnny heart reacts to the message immediately.

Call?

please!!!

Mere seconds later, his face fills the screen once more, and your sheer excitement overtakes your nerves by far.

"Hi." You say shyly, as soon as you accept the call.

"Hi bonnie, gotcha on loudspeaker by the way." He greets you, his voice immediately sending warmth through you.

You were rapidly growing obsessed with his terms of endearment, too.

"Oh." You pause, suddenly self-conscious and hesitant. "Are you not alone?" Does anyone in his life even know you exist? You know you haven't really mentioned to your friends that you're 'dating' again.

"Definitely am, don't worry. Jus' need ma hands free."

At that, your brow furrows, your voice filling with both mischief and disbelief. "What are you doing, Johnny?"

He chuckles, before rustling some papers around. "Paperwork, nothing fun."

Even hearing the word paperwork right now drains you, and can hear that Johnny isn't exactly pleased with the idea either.

"Wishing I was under the desk again?" You ask, hoping your playful tone will make him smile.

"Dinnae start." He groans. "What are you doing? Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, I need to check my milk is still in date." You throw yourself off the sofa and make your way through to the kitchen—it's a good job Johnny actually poked you to eat.

"Milk?" His voice is filled with confusion.

"For cereal."

"Ach."

"I can feel your disapproval from here." You can practically sense him shaking his head disapprovingly too.

"Good, I see how this gonae be." He sighs, the disappointment evident, along with that sense of control, guidance.

It just makes you tingle.

"Yes, daddy?" You giggle audaciously like you know exactly what you're doing, and hope it has the effect you want it to.

Johnny chokes, and then growls... and then sighs. "Away n bile yer heid." He whispers, yet he sounds anything but angry, his voice thick with arousal as he undoubtedly fights all kinds of urges.

You want to take that step with Johnny, to dirty talk with him now that you feel comfortable, but you suppose now isn't the time—after all, he is still working.

"I'm being mean now, sorry."

"A right brat." He growls playfully. "Do something for me, lass?"

The shift in his tone and the previous conversation topic gives you a good guess at what's coming next. "Is it cooking a real meal?" You groan playing into the role.

Well, admittedly committing to self-care tasks like cooking isn't the easiest thing in the world, and having someone to guide you in that is... a turn-on.

"Knew you were a smart girl." He purrs, and those words turn your brain and your body to mush.

You have to stifle a whine from leaving you, as your face flushes furiously. Oh, how you wish you could hear that over and over again—in that voice, with that accent, whispered right in your ear as he—

"What you gonna cook?" He asks, interrupting your rapidly spiraling thoughts.

Staring into the fridge is a depressing experience—the shelves are mostly bare and there's a faint smell of something off. "Ugh, I don't have a lot in, to be honest."

"Logging onto the Tesco website now, or maybe meal delivery service..." He muses, and you can imagine the smirk on his lips.

"Johnny!" Your protest is weak, as the coddling and infantalisation make you feel something you probably shouldn't.

He snickers at your tone, but he knows now that if things are to continue, he won't listen to your objections. "Jokin'... for now. Talk me through yer fridge, lass."

"Do you cook?" You ask, wondering if he's going to magically talk you through a recipe with the condiments in your fridge and the dried pasta in the pantry.

There's a beat of silence. "Not often."

You're overcome with a fit of giggles and a wave of faux offense. "Then who are you to lecture me?"

Johnny meets your exclamation with a series of tuts, which already quiet your discontent, but you find yourself ruined when his voice drops and he delivers his next few words. "What happened to 'Johnny knows best'?"

Fuck him, using his powers for good—and you can already tell he's getting off on it too. Today, you won't indulge him by submissively repeating it back, since he's making you face the horror that is cooking.

"Fine." You sigh, looking for what items in the fridge that are actually still in date. You pull open a cupboard or two as well. "I have... hummus and celery and uh, supernoodles in the cupboard."

"Better than cereal." He waits for your response that doesn't come, as you pout on the end of the phone, and then he plays his next move flawlessly. "For me, bonnie girl?"

The plea in his voice makes you melt, makes you want to do just about anything for him.

"For you." You say with a smile, grabbing the packets of noodles and a saucepan. "Have you eaten?"

"A have, chicken tikka masala."

You sigh, knowing that if not for Johnny you could've ordered a nice Indian for yourself—you get to work on the noodles anyway. "Kinda jealous now, if I'm honest."

His laugh is short but earnest. "Same, haven't had beefy supernoodles in an age."

"Yeah, I would hope they're feeding you actually decent, nutritious food over there."

He huffs. "I would hope you're feeding yerself decent food, but here we are." That playful judgement is back, lacing his words and making you crave his approval.

It's a startling thought, that here you are, only a few days in and needing his praise, his encouragement—you suppose it comes easy as it plays into both of your natural instincts—his to lead, yours to follow.

"Less sass, more... paperwork." You grumble playfully, trying to cover up the fact that, maybe, you like being teased by him.

"Aye." He laughs, and you can briefly hear him scribbling in the silence.

For a few moments, it's just the sound of him writing and you cooking, but the quiet feels comfortable rather than awkward—strangely routine and domestic after such a short space of time.

Your mind wanders back to what the two of you had discussed last night, about his day later in the week. "Have you thought more about Friday?"

There's a brief shuffle and the sound of the call changes as Johnny seems to take you off the loudspeaker and moves around. "Meetin' you?"

"Yeah." There's a sense of nervousness within you, a fear he's going to suddenly decide that he doesn't want to see you after all, that he doesn't see this going anywhere. It's so soon, and yet the thought seems crushing.

"Haven't thought of much else." His confession seems to settle your rapidly beating heart just a little, the sincerity in his voice making your stomach twist and turn.

Maybe you shouldn't push it, but you want to meet him more than anything, so you can make the first step toward all of this becoming real. "Would you be up for coffee? I can come to you!"

"About that..." His sigh is weary, and panic overtakes you as the silence stretches on. "Am leaving for a week or so."

It's not a total rejection at least, but somehow it still stings, still settles heavy and unpleasant in your gut. "When?"

"Tomorrow." He falls silent, waiting for you to say something, yet you don't know what words to even summon right now. "'m sorry, lass."

You take a deep breath for a moment, collecting your thoughts as you stir your noodles and try to put everything you feel into some sort of coherent order.

There's no logical reason to feel rejected, as it's not that he doesn't want the date, but that he can't. Perhaps it's that lingering thought that this kind of thing will be a frequent occurrence—it's just a small taste of what's to come. But wanting Johnny means handling this, like he deserves.

You push through the discomfort and force yourself into a more positive mindset.

"But... after that? Or is this just because you hate coffee so much you're fleeing the country?" You laugh softly, hoping the joke will lighten the thick atmosphere.

"Now, if you'd asked me out for tea..." He laughs in return, before turning serious. "But... when I'm back, I'd love to see you. Have ta, really. "

"I'm glad." The beaming smile on your face is ridiculous, and you're so thankful he can't see you grinning like an idiot at his words. He has to meet you.

With your cooking complete, you take the saucepan off the stove and pour the noodles into a bowl, grabbing it before returning to the comfort of the couch. "Okay, noodles done."

"Wanna call me back once yer done, or?"

Fuck, he's so considerate.

You hum negatively as you start to blow on the noodles to cool them. "I'll eat on the phone if you don't mind the sound of me slurping."

Johnny chuckles, before making a suggestive noise.

"The noodles, Johnny."

He coughs, covering more juvenile laughter. "Aye, the noodles, of course."

"So... going anywhere fun?" You ask, referencing his upcoming deployment.

"Classified, I'm afraid." He answers curtly, but you know it's nothing more than his duty.

No questions about that, then, you suppose. It's going to be a strange thing to adjust to, but it's another thing that comes along with accepting Johnny into your life. You change your line of questioning, hopefully to something he can answer. "Are you... scared?"

"No." He answers quickly and firmly, in a manner that suggests certainty rather than bravado. "Don't worry about me, hen." He rushes to add.

"Kinda hard not to, even if we only just met..." You sigh, but you suppose you have to trust Johnny's skills and training. "I imagine it only gets more intense from here."

The admission feels like a swift kick to the stomach.

"Yeah..." You hear a knock on the door from Johnny's end, and he swears colourfully under his breath. "Ach, can I call yer back?"

It's almost cruel the way such timing drives the point home.

"Sure, things to attend to?" You ask absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer.

He sighs, before trying to turn his tone more positive. "Aye, but I'll catch you before bed, yeah?"

"Yeah. Bye, Johnny."

"Bye, lass."

He ends the call, leaving you with your meal and your thoughts.

Maybe you aren't strong enough to deal with this after all, you think, trying to settle the ugly, gnawing feeling inside you. It already hurts, but maybe that's because you're trying to hold so tight onto something intangible. Maybe if you and Johnny become something, mean something to each other, it'll all be easier to deal with.

It's an hour or so later when you're tucked up in bed that Johnny's call lights up your phone. You pick it up instantly.

"Hey, glad you haven't fallen asleep already." He chuckles, his voice softer than before.

"Mmm, still hanging on." You mumble, cheek pressed into plushness and tiredness lingering at the back of your mind, as well as the mess of feelings that still simmers within you.

"Cuddled up with the big B?" He asks, voice cheeky and charming.

You can't help the soft giggle at the ridiculous nickname. "The big B?!"

"Barnaby!" He clarifies with a hearty laugh, not ashamed at all of his goofiness.

"The big B! That's so silly"

The laughs quiet, and another silence falls, but this time you feel the discomfort that comes with it.

Johnny is the first to breach it, his tone tinged with worry. "How are yer?"

"I'm fine." You sigh, not wanting to elaborate and get yourself upset again. It's not far from the truth. Nothing has changed, but this is something you have to learn to sit with, have to make peace with for both of your sake.

Johnny cuts right through the noise. "Yer seemed a little upset earlier. Wanna talk about it?"

Communication—the key to any good relationship, an essential to any kinky one, and one thing you think you really kind of suck at.

It's a simple sentence with a simple answer, and nothing about Johnny suggests that his reaction will be anything other than supportive—but it's not Johnny's voice that whispers cruel things in the back of your head. And for now, Johnny's influence is not enough to quiet the storm.

The fear grips at your heart, stops your words right in your throat, but your mind wars between the ghosts of your past and the duty of your present and future.

Johnny waits quietly, not pushing you for an answer or assuming how you feel, and that small act helps pull you out of the fog and helps you force yourself to speak.

"Reality setting in, I guess." The words don't come easy at first, your throat tight—but once you start, the rest just seems to flow, taking the weight of your burdens with them. "Like, it's not too bad right now, it's just... knowing what's in store? Assuming we keep talking."

The opportunity to really put your thoughts in order and get them out actually does help, surprisingly.

Johnny goes silent for a moment, considering your words before he speaks. "If you wanna stop—"

"I don't." You feel bad for interrupting him, but you already know that's not what you want, even if he sees it as a kindness. "Like I said yesterday, I'm not faint-hearted... the intensity just took me by surprise. All of this has, really."

"I'm with you there. Sat here thinking about how I'm gonna be thinking of anything else when I'm on the mission." He laughs softly, the sound laden with emotion. "Lt's gonna have my head."

The gravity of his job sinks in now, with the realisation that he will be busy and focused, and rightfully so.

"Will you be able to get in touch while you're gone?" You ask, more for informational purposes, rather than being unable to last a week without hearing his voice.

"Not a whole lot, no. Sometimes no' at all, but I'll let you know when I can." He states plainly, and the honesty is so refreshing.

"I'll try not to bother you too much then." You giggle, though you don't really mean your words. He has his mission, and you have yours—stay strong while he's gone.

He scoffs instantly. "You? A bother? Never."

You hum, continuing with your playful statements. "You haven't seen me when I'm clingy."

"A like clingy, am clingy too."

Ugh, just when you think he can't be more perfect, he comes out with that. The sweet smile on your face is relentless, and you just know the same is true for him too. "Oh yeah? So you won't be complaining when we meet, and I just take a hold of your hand and don't let go."

His barked laugh is so genuine that it makes your heart sing. "Bold of yer to assume I'd be letting you go, lass."

The thought of even his hand in yours is enough to send you into a frenzy—a simple, delicate, and chaste act, yet you crave it like nothing else. When your date finally does come around, you'll be able to touch him and see him up close. You'll be able to hear that voice and those words up close and unrestrained by the slightly shitty quality of the phone call—and that is a little terrifying.

"I guess waiting isn't a bad thing after all, maybe I'll be less nervous by then." Because right now you know you'd hesitate to reach out and touch him, would struggle looking him in the eye for too long. Maybe if you wait, the radiance that is Johnny's warmth will wear off, but somehow you doubt it.

"Why ya nervous?"

You almost snort at such an oblivious question from such a seemingly smart man. "Have you seen you?" Have you talked to you? Been on the end of your affections? Your mind pleads.

"See this ugly mug every day." He grumbles, though you can still hear the smile.

"You can't see, but I'm rolling my eyes." You giggle. "But what if I just... can't resist you? Jump you right then and there?" Your voice takes on a more teasing tone.

"In public?" He tuts, slow and sexy, his voice dropping low. "Naughty girl."

You straight up whimper. "Needy girl, for you."

A growl leaves his throat, along with a whispered "Fuck."

Arousal floods through you, overtakes you, as you feel your mind slipping to a space of deep-seated need, all for him. You feel on fire, your skin hypersensitive to the brush of the sheets, as your lower body hums and begs for attention. No longer can you hold yourself back from falling under his sexy spell. "Your groans, your voice, it all drives me crazy."

The laugh that leaves him is weaker, choked with arousal. "All wet fer me, bonnie?" His voice, now a touched graveled, wraps so wonderfully around every word.

"Soaked." You squirm in place, not even needing to feel to know just how dripping you are—every time he teases you, you practically gush. Your spare hand dives below the sheets, tracing ever so slightly over your stomach as it crawls lower. "Johnny?"

"Yes, bonnie?" It sounds like his control is wavering too.

"Please can I touch? I need it so bad." You whine and plead, surrendering yourself to Johnny's command.

"You don't—" Another growl leaves his throat, you hear him shuffle and when his voice returns, he sounds even more aroused than before—sweet, gentle domination drips from his tone. "Touch yerself, go on."

You comply immediately, your hand diving under your waistband and zeroing in on your swollen clit—relief floods you the second you make contact, your fingers rubbing delicate swirls on your soaked nub as gentle moans force themselves free.

"Oh fuck." Johnny's breathing is ragged between his groans. "Gonna have tae join ya."

"Fuckfuckfuck." Your eyes slip shut as you imagine him reaching down to free his aching cock, all for you. Your thoughts center on conjuring up an image of how long and thick you imagine him to be. "Is... is your cock as big as the rest of you?"

You squeak out your words while you still have command over the English language.

"Guess you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles breathlessly, some of the words catching in his throat as he clearly works himself. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed. I know how tae take care of yer, know you're already desperate for me."

Your circles quicken, his words sending pleasure coursing through you in a way that almost feels better than your touch. You fill the air with breathy moans. "Need you, Johnny."

"Need you too, pet." He growls his words over the building slick sound.

"Oh fuck." Your reaction is instant, the word sending everything in your brain into overdrive. Pet. Pet. You almost cum right then and there, but his assault on your senses and sensibilities continues.

"God, thinking about you on the end of a leash for me? So fuckin' hard thinking about it." His voice modulates between and whine and a growl, his need growing furiously. "I'd be so fuckin' lucky."

You imagine the collar slipping around your neck, imagine Johnny clicking shut a lock and attaching a leash—pulling you to him just as he is now with every word.

"I'd be the most loyal pet ever, I swear." You start to babble, unable to hold back any longer on the wave of submission that overtakes you. "I'll Wait for you to come home, naked and kneeling with my leash ready."

"Jesus, fuck." Each grunt that leaves him makes you shiver. Each word like its own bolt of electricity straight from his body to yours. "Yeah, my good girl would be so lost without me." He says it with such certainty, speaking the truth to life.

"I get separation anxiety like mad. I'll miss your touch, miss your smell, miss your taste—" You cut yourself off with a high-pitched whine, your fingers working you so fucking close to the edge.

"Don't worry, I'd fuck you so good before I go bonnie, fill yer up and leave you dripping with me." His groans are accompanied by more of those slick sounds. "Mark that pretty neck o' yours, too."

"I'm... I'm not gonna last." You admit, holding back even now from cumming—you crave his permission.

"Me either. Go on, moan for me, let me hear you." He urges you gently, even if his voice is filled with need.

You let all your noises flow freely as you teeter toward the edge and desperately try to please him with the sounds you make. It's all too good, too much, too overwhelming.

"Johnny, can I—"

His demand is out of his mouth before you can even finish your sentence. "Cum fer me, bonnie. Go on."

You cum with a strangled cry, flying over the edge right as Johnny demands it. The build-up of the past few days along with Johnny's noises has you shaking in ecstasy—ecstasy that's only prolonged when he cums too with a long, drawn-out groan.

After a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, as you come down from your high.

"Oh my god." You sigh, a silly, blissed-out grin overtaking your features.

"You okay, sweet girl?" His voice returns to that sweetness you're coming to know and love.

You nod mindlessly, even though he can't see you. "Better than okay, are you?"

He hums in affirmation, before his voice turns a touch serious. "You did so good. Just want tae make sure you're good, and a didn't go too far."

"Hah, I mean, nowhere near too far." You admit shakily.

"Am glad, it's only early days, though. That trust..." He hesitates.

"... It takes a while, yeah." The post-orgasmic bliss coupled with the feeling of that trust taking root and growing. "I'm glad you understand."

And he understands perfectly, as you never feel pushed or rushed, only pampered and adored.

"Of course... it's special, for both of us." He admits, and you know you're on the same wavelength when it comes to the bond and relationship between dominant and submissive.

"Mhmm." You hum dreamily, wholeheartedly agreeing and yet not able to summon up something profound.

"Already sleepy?" His laughter is soft and sincere.

"I'd get so much rest if every night was like this."

"Even more so when I finally get to fuck ya, bonnie." He whispers so casually, yet even after your orgasm your clit still thrums with interest—God, he has such a hold on you.

"Yeah?" You sigh, dreaming of the day you'll get to experience it.

"Yeah."

The line falls silent, and you feel yourself fading.

"I'm sorry, I'm so... sleepy." You whisper while you still have the chance.

"It's okay, sweet girl, close yer eyes. Am right here." Johnny's sweet voice lulls you closer and closer, and your phone falls free from your hand to your pillow, resting there with Johnny just on the end of the line.

"Goodnight Johnny." You mumble, before sleep finally takes you.

"Goodnight, Bonnie." His reply is soft, carrying you off to unconsciousness as he drifts off too.

-//-

Johnny practically vibrates where he stands—wired beyond belief. Part of it is his usual pre-mission adrenaline, but the events of the past few days especially almost have him climbing the walls. His energy is frenetic as usual but with so much more—lust, yearning, withdrawal.

It's only been a few hours since he ended the call after waking up before you, and yet he finds his thoughts unable to leave you, even as he finishes gearing up. You'd love to see him like this, and an idea strikes him.

He pulls out his phone, turns to the man beside him, and hopes he doesn't regret asking. Then again, some ribbing from the masked man would be nothing compared to the floored reaction he'd get from you.

"Ghost?" He asks, piercing the comfortable silence between the two of them.

"What?" Ghost turns, eyeing Johnny and his hand holding his outstretched phone.

Johnny doesn't waver, sure in his request, and eager to see your response. "Take a picture of me, yeah?"

"Girl back home?" Ghost asks, cutting straight to the point as he takes the phone. "Is this the first time she's seeing you? Cause you look fuckin' rough."

"No." Johnny frowns, and worry washes over him. Surely Lt. is just messing him around—he knows she'll be happy to see him either way.

Ghost pulls off a glove and navigates to the camera before stepping back and holding up the phone in Johnny's direction. He might be giving Johnny shit, but he at least takes the time to angle and position the frame in a way that compliments Johnny's stature. "She like the tac gear?"

Johnny sighs, wishing this was over already. "Just take the picture, Ghost."

"Say cheese." Ghost deadpans, and the softest of smiles graces Johnny's features—for her, not for him.

Johnny practically snatches the phone back from Ghost's hands, checking out the photo immediately. "Thanks."

He pulls up their messages immediately, firing off the picture with a kissing face and a teasing message just for her.

When he locks the phone and throws it in his bag, Ghost's eyes are fixed on him, his blackened eyes narrowed.

"Mind on the mission, yeah, Johnny?"

Johnny nods, doing his best to push thoughts of her away for now, and letting his inner soldier take over. He'll be back to her before he knows it. "Aye, Lt."

Days later, and after a successful first phase of the mission, Johnny stares down at his phone. The signal is nonexistent and won't return for a while, but he misses you, his mind is itching with his need for you. In this shitty safe house in the middle of nowhere, while someone else is on watch, there's very little to do, and truly nothing else he'd rather think about.

He scrolls to the top of your messages, rereading each message and reliving each conversation, experiencing all over again how each message made him feel.

Your sweet texts, your copious use of emojis, and your cute little selfies—it was all so intoxicating to him. For a man who was so used to maintaining focus, you were a fucking curveball. Something about you just sends his protective instincts into overdrive, makes unearned possessive tendrils curl up through him and around his heart—calls out to his guiding, dominant, caring side.

He has to constantly stamp down the thoughts inside that called out to him to find you, scoop you up, and take you home with him. Luckily for you both, Johnny is a patient man. He spends time out in the field waiting days for anything interesting to happen, he's spent years waiting for his pet, his girl to come along—and you're right there. He can wait a little longer.

He holds down the record button, intent on recording a message for you, and begins whispering into the phone.

"Hi, been sat on my arse for far too long with nothing to do but think of you. Dinnae think I'll get signal anytime soon, but I 'spose it'll send at some point." He feels himself relax just a little as he falls into Johnny, the man—rather than Soap, the soldier.

"Been thinking about our first date, since you mentioned coffee. Kinda had a crazy idea actually, but I need your input. What about a cat café? Has to be one in that city o' yours, and I figure you must like kitties."

"Won't be long until you might be one for me... or a bunny... or a puppy." He interrupts himself with a sigh.

"Need tae stop those thoughts and quit while I'm ahead. Let me know, yeah? As soon as I get my leave, we'll set it up."

"Talk soon, bonnie."

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #soap mw2 #i swear i should get a beta reader for this series #i feel bad bcs im posting ch2 so soon with NO idea when 3 is coming #eventually???#love you all so much #collars and cages

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dfortrafalgar · 2 months

Text

Chilly

Convincing Law to take a break for one day is like talking to a concrete wall. Good thing you have the personality of a jackhammer.

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, snow day, domestic bliss, just fun and fluffy all around, snowball fights with the heart pirates, soft law <3

Also posted on AO3

No one even bothered to ask Law if he wanted to join the crew on land and partake in some relaxing winter activities. Everyone knew what the answer would be: a stern, pensive stare and a quick, firm, “Absolutely not.” Especially not when the aforementioned winter weather sprung up completely out of nowhere, while the Polar Tang was moored at an unassuming island tucked away behind a seaside cliff. It was warm and pleasant the day before, so waking up to a deep blanket of snow on land completely ruined Law’s plans. Heart Pirate Rule #283 (estimates vary), no one could try to change Law’s mind about an activity when his prior commitments were already ruined.

When Law opened the heavy door to his office and stepped into the hallway, he was met with an unsurprising, deathly silence. Through one of the small portholes in the hull of the submarine, he could spot a few of his crew engaged in a very intense snowball fight. The captain’s piercing gold eyes locked onto Uni the second he took a rock-filled snowball directly to the face. With a ‘tsk’ through his teeth, he made his way to the galley for another cup of coffee. He assumed the entire ship was empty, and was caught by surprise at the sight of you standing at the wash basin in the kitchen with your hands under a steady stream of warm water from the tap. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of Law’s footsteps entering the room.

“Hi, baby!” you called. Law could barely see your face from the angle you were standing at, but he could hear the bright smile that accompanied your words. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Law learned early in your relationship that it was futile to fight the content grin that crawled over his lips whenever he heard the sound of your voice. He meandered over to you, planting a chaste kiss into your hair. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

It was easy to pick up on the gruff tone of his tired voice. “I’m sorry, Law. I know it’s annoying for you when things happen so suddenly.”

Your sympathetic words brought mild relief to the stress filling Law’s aching head. As he started the electric coffee pot on the nearby countertop, he finally glanced over to see your hands under the sink faucet. A deep gash in the palm of your left hand was slowly leaking blood as you washed it. The tips of your fingers looked dry.

“What happened?” he immediately questioned, abandoning his coffee and stepping back toward you. He grabbed a few paper towels from a drawer, reaching over you to turn off the tap and grabbed your hands in his, gently applying pressure to your wound.

You grinned at his actions, but your eyebrows were knit together apologetically. “It’s nothing major, I was stupid and went outside without gloves on. I cut my hand on a rock trying to catch a snowball.”

Law’s medical instincts had completely taken over as he sat you down at the galley dining table, locating one of the many first aid boxes that were located around the submarine before returning to your side, kneeling at your feet and beginning to patch up your wound with antiseptic and a gauze wrap. “Leave it to those idiots to stuff rocks into snowballs. That’s how people lose their eyes.” He blew out an annoyed huff through his nostrils.

Your unoccupied hand reached forward to card your fingers through his tangled black locks of hair. “It’s stupid, but we’re pirates. Pirates do stupid things sometimes, don’t you think?”

Your boyfriend’s fingers lingered over your bandaged hand, ghosting across your palm before falling to his sides to pack up the first aid bin and return it to its original location. “I suppose you have a point.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you watched Law move around the galley, ditching the first aid box and returning to the faucet, peering into the sink to make sure there was no residual blood that might have splashed into the basin. He gave it a quick wipe-down out of precaution, before finally walking back to the electric coffee pot to load the reservoir with ground beans from a large plastic container. A smile danced over your lips watching his movements, reveling in the domestic bliss that rare moments like this provided.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” you began.

“You probably know what I’m going to say,” he responded, picking up on your thoughts before they even left your mouth.

You sighed. “I know.”

Law turned his back to the coffee pot as he waited for the water to boil, leaning back against the counter to face you. His steely eyes softened at your saddened expression.

“I just think it would be fun to have you join us. How often do we get days to… I don’t know… have fun? To relax?” You knew your words would have little power against the man before you, given how routine-oriented and strict he kept his daily life. Even in a comfortable, romantic relationship with you, he still kept to his regular way of living, and very little could change that.

“Days like this set back projects by a mile,” Law muttered under his breath. “It would be a waste of time for me to go outside in the cold and watch my crew lob rocks at each other.”

You bit your lip slightly as your mind raced for any way to convince your beloved to drop his duties for one single day and instead try to enjoy himself in the company of his crew, his friends and family. “What if I help you later? What if you delegate tasks later this evening to everyone to lighten your load? What if–”

“Darling…”

“Law, I’m being serious! Everyone hates it when you keep yourself cramped in your room hunched over paperwork all day… I hate it! I don’t like seeing you stressed, and I know delays are frustrating but we’re pirates for crying out loud! You have the freedom to drop your responsibilities for even a few minutes and relax.” Your own voice raised ever so slightly in volume.

That word, the ‘F’ word, clearly had an effect on Law, given the way his shoulders stiffened. The only sound that followed your pleas was the gurgling of the coffee machine on the counter. His arms were crossed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he stared back at you. You held eye contact with his intense glare, not backing down from your request. The two demons that sat on Law’s shoulder were having an all-out war with each other; one desperately begged for the cold captain to loosen up and enjoy himself, spend time with you and his crew, while the other told him he would be better off in his office, solitary, sipping on bitter coffee and scrawling chicken scratch into his log book.

Your eyes widened by a mere millimeter when you saw Law’s golden irises dart towards the porthole in the galley before instantly going back to you.

“I promise I’ll wear gloves,” you offered, your last remaining ammunition in this fleeting war of the mind.

A smirk cracked onto Law’s lips. “You win.”

“What?”

“You win. I’ll come outside with you.”

You launched to your feet, eyes wide with excitement. “You will?!”

“Yeah.”

Law’s arms were ready to embrace you as you skipped toward him, boots leaving wet puddles across the metal floor in your wake as you threw your arms around his neck, angelic laughter leaving your throat as you thanked him for nothing in particular. He squeezed your waist and gazed at you as you pulled away, eyes full of nothing but adoration for your happiness at such a miniscule agreement.

“Coffee can wait,” you demanded, linking your unbandaged hand with his and dragging him toward the ladder well to the top deck. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait,” Law tugged on your arm. “Gloves.”

You grumbled as you dug through a storage container filled with the crew’s seasonal accessories, pushing aside tacky hats and a few pairs of swimming goggles before producing a pair of insulated brown gloves. They were smudged with dry oil and smelled akin to death, but you pulled them into your hands anyway, taking care to avoid pulling on your bandages. Law pulled on his own jacket and gloves, changing out his shoes for a pair of heavier boots before following you up the ladder, onto the top deck, and out the main door into the cold, gray afternoon. He obediently followed your heels as you bounded down the gangway, heavy steps alerting your crewmates to your return.

“Captain! You’re alive!” Shachi called out, waving his hands in the air.

“How the hell did you manage to convince him to come outside?” Hakugan leaned over to you, exasperated judging by the sound of his voice.

Law had barely stepped foot into the layer of deep snow before he was tackled by a warm stone wall of white fur and an orange boiler suit. His hands reflexively landed on Bepo’s shoulders, trying to steady the two of them before the human man would topple to the ground.

“Captain! I’m so happy you’re joining us! I’m building a snowbear, you need to help me!” Bepo was rubbing his face into the side of Law’s head, leaving tufts of white fur behind that clung to the man’s black hair and feather-lined coat.

Their tender embrace was interrupted by a thud as a snowball planted itself behind Bepo’s head. The bear released Law from his vice-like grip and whirled around, not hesitating when he dipped down, scooped a generous mound of snow from the ground, molded it into a ball with his large paws, and reeled his arm back to return fire to the first person he laid eyes on.

Clione was the victim, taking the huge snowball to the groin as it arched through the thin air and landed with precision and a comedic, dense smack. The blonde doubled over with a pained grunt.

It didn’t take long for the fight to resume in full force, bald spots of snow being left in the ground as greedy hands scooped up larger and larger mounds of the frozen water to chuck at each other. Law’s eyes gazed between each member of his crew, before landing on Penguin who secretly pulled a rock out from his pocket, shoving it into the snowball he held in his gloved hand.

With a split second flash of blue light and a barely audible whisper from the captain, the snowball previously held by Penguin was now clutched in Law’s hand. The black-haired man reeled his arm back, throwing all of his energy into launching the snowball across the field toward Penguin, who took the blow to the chest. The surprise caused him to stumble backwards, falling onto his ass and leaving a plume of snow to puff around him with the impact. The Heart Pirates watched in awe as a mischievous smirk slowly appeared on Law’s mouth.

“No fair! You have a devil fruit advantage!” someone’s voice shouted from across the snow-covered field.

“And? You’ve sailed with me for long enough, use your head.”

Law leaned down to gather another mound of snow in his hands, eyes landing on you. As he motioned to lob the object in your direction, another snowball planted against his bicep, halting his movements. Ikkaku stood opposite him, an equally bright smile on her face as she shouted at you to return fire. He barely had time to look back at you when he was met with white powder directly to the face. He blindly threw his own snowball towards where you stood, grinning when he was met with the sound of your surprised yelp. He wiped the freeze from his face just in time for Ikkaku to awkwardly sprint through the deep snow toward where you lay on the ground, hollering that you were hit. You tossed a thumbs up into the air before letting your arm fall back down, laughing with Ikkaku over your sorry state.

More snowballs, some containing rocks and some without, continued to pelt against Law, who returned them with enthusiastic movement and a devilish grin. He tossed a glance over toward you, face flushing when he found his stare returned, a beautiful, relaxed smile dancing over your face.

—

Law yanked a damp towel off of his head, freeing his wet hair to the air of his room. A shiver went up his spine at the sensation of cold hair against the back of his neck. The sight made you laugh from where you sat on his bed, bundled in one of his sweatshirts that you had pulled over your knees, leaving only your sock feet visible.

He pulled a pair of ratty sweatpants over his legs before crawling on top of the bed with you, pulling you down by your shoulder into his chest. “I’m cold because of you,” he complained.

“And now you can be warm because of me!” you replied, voice light and airy as you snaked your arms around his waist and forced one of your legs in between his. A tangle of limbs lay on his mattress.

Law’s fingers played with the tips of your hair as he stared across his room at nothing.

“Thank you.” Your voice shook the man from his thoughts.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you came outside with me today. Everyone had so much fun… it was nice.”

The tenderness of your tone pulled at Law’s heartstrings. It had never occurred to him until then how much his absence might have affected his crew, affected you, and so negatively at that. He had never seen his crew laugh as a collective until then, throwing snow before getting tired and resorting to building snow creatures or leaving imprints of their bodies in the plush, white freeze. Law even left one of his own, directly next to yours. The two images were connected where your hands would be, to remain there until the snow inevitably melted.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he mumbled into the crown of your head.

You giggled into his neck. “I love you.”

Law inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eyes at the sound of your words. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, thoughts running rampant through his head. You weren’t expecting a response, he very rarely said those three words back to you, choosing instead to spoil you with his physical affection instead.

“I love you, too.”

#trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #law oneshot

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cantstoptheimagines · 7 months

Text

Discovering Their Love Language

Summary — Preferences for Monkey D. Luffy, Nami, Roronoa Zoro, Usopp, and Vinsmoke Sanji from One Piece!

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Fluff because the Straw Hats make my heart race!

Notes ➳ Word Count is 596. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).

monkey d. luffy

luffy is all touch. his hands are big and warm as he presses you into his side. with one on his hip, the other slips beneath your shirt and runs over your lower back. it’s subconscious, the way it splays over your skin, his fingers tracing up and down your spine. he doesn’t even notice the small smile on your face since he’s too busy talking to zoro and sanji. he’s especially soft when it’s late at night. he comes into his room to find you already half-sleep, tangled up in his sheets. he crawls in next you and finds himself tucking his dark curls beneath your chin. he traces your collarbone, muttering sweet nothings and occasionally tilting his head in order to plant open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck. he nuzzles into you, sighing softly at the feeling of your warm skin against his. he can’t help wanting to be as close to you as possible.

nami

she wants nothing more than words of affirmation. after a life of being held captive by arlong’s crew without an ounce of love, she needs lots of reassurance that you care for her. she especially loves it when you wrap your arms around her from behind as the two of you overlook the bobbing waves. swaying from side to side, you mutter an endless stream of compliments, adorations, and praises. nami tightly grips your hands, which are resting upon her stomach, and closes her eyes in response, content to listen to your voice forever.

roronoa zoro

zoro is incredibly reserved, so he’s all about acts of service. he’ll bring you a plate when it’s time for dinner or make sure your laundry is folded and tucked away before you can worry about it. if it’s your turn to keep watch, he’ll take your place, forcing you to get a good night’s sleep instead. he thinks of nothing of it. each of these little tasks, along with the others he’s constantly doing for you, have merely become another part of his routine. if you decide to be with zoro for the long haul, expect to be taken care of.

usopp

he loves quality time. while the others are busy gathering supplies during a quick stop at a nearby harbor, you and usopp have a tendency to slip away. you’ll spend the day together, exploring every part of the new island. the two of you only return to the ship once night has fallen, narrowly avoiding a proper scolding from nami and zoro for always disappearing. usopp’s favorite moments with you, however, always happen the quiet privacy of your shared room. away from prying eyes, you’re both tucked beneath a blanket, sharing secrets and muffled laughs as you reminisce about your adventures.

vinsmoke sanji

sanji’s prides himself on being a giver. he may be a total flirt, but he’s truly a soft-hearted fool for you deep down. if you’re in a relationship with sanji, prepare to be spoiled. if you see a piece of clothing you like, it’s in your room later that night. he’s constantly bringing you the native flowers of whatever island the crew decided to visit. and don’t even get him started when it comes to your birthday! his favorite thing to give you, however, is food, being the talented chef that he is. after a while, you may gain a bit of weight from all the delicious meals he provides and there’s no hiding the smile that grows on his face whenever you tell him. after all, how could he not be happy about that? he has more of you to love!

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 1 month

Note

Hello! For your consideration, I was thinking of a Tech hurt/ comfort fic. The reader is hurt after a mission and Tech helps aid them. Maybe the injury isn’t close to being lethal, but it’s not good either. Ooo, I was about to say they’re in a relationship, but what if they are close but haven’t realized how much they deeply care until now.

By Your Side

Tech x Reader

Summary- During an escape from the Empire, you break your arm. Tech is quick to be at your side, fixing you up. At the intensity of the situation, feelings are revealed. DESCRIPTIONS OF BROKEN BONES!

A/N- Hi, honey! Thanks for requesting! I LOVE this prompt! Such a cute idea. <3 <3

Word Count- 1,549

SNAP

A gasp left your mouth, just before a scream. It took a couple seconds for your brain to register what had happened. You simply stared at your left arm, white peaking out on your forearm.

Another wail erupted, pain shooting up your arm. You left it in your shoulder as well.

The previous events finally caught up to you.

You were trying to redirect power in a crashed Imperial vessel. Cid had sent you all to get any valuables on the ship.

Luckily for you all, the ship was mostly abandoned. Plus, there was expensive equipment left on board that could be sold back to the Empire through a third party.

Hunter, Omega, and Wrecker had been headed back to The Marauder to haul parts of the medical technology back to Ord Mantell.

Things were moving smoothly until a fleet arrived. Apparently the Empire had also sent their own men to retrieve the equipment. Clones raided the ship, you and Tech struggled to stay unseen.

"Keep down." He instructed, you followed his order.

"Hunter, meet at the pickup zone. We are currently escaping through an air duct." Tech whispered through his Comms.

The position you were in had you flushed, crawling on your hands and knees was uncomfortable. Tech right behind you doing the same made you a little self conscious.

It wasn't a secret to Omega and Hunter that you liked Tech. Hunter picked up on your heart rate increase around Tech, and the way you grew nervous over simple activities with him. His heightened senses gave you away. Omega, on the other hand, had a knack for picking up your subtle blush when he talked on and on about something you didn't understand.

She teased you about it sometimes, and Hunter paid little mind. Wrecker was clueless, as usual.

"Are you okay? You're breathing heavily." Tech spoke quietly to you, concerned.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Its just- its a tight space..." You responded, Tech hummed to let you know he heard you. Though, you doubt he believed your petty excuse.

The duct came to an end, a barred frame was the only thing blocking your escape.

You pushed at it, and when it didn't budge- you shuffled around and tried to kick.

"Not even a dent."

"I'll have to blast it, move behind me." He answered.

You leaned back, trying to contort yourself was a struggle in the small vent. There was no way to change positions without crossing over him.

"Sorry..." You mumbled out, flustered as your chest was soon snugly pressed into his.

He stopped moving for a moment, you both rested an inch from each other. "There is no reason to be. This was my plan."

You stuttered, "This?"

He let out a single breathy laugh. "Ah, no. Escaping through the air duct. Our predicament is only a consequence of that decision. Therefore, this is my fault. Not yours."

You gave a shy nod. As much as you would have loved to spend more time in your position, wasting time was not a luxury you had.

The two of you continued to switch spots, you were now behind him.

"After I blast it, the Imperial troops will be alerted of our location. We will need to be swift. Just follow me, I've been tracking our coordinates." He glanced over his shoulder when he spoke.

"After blast, run like crazy?"

"Sure. I guess you could put it that way." You smiled at his words.

You crouched down behind him as he pulled his blaster trigger.

It wasn't very loud, but enough for some kind of siren to go off.

Tech quickly crawled out, then waited for you to do the same. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up to him.

At that, the two of you took off. A few shots rang out, but nothing close enough to get you.

You were able to see The Marauder hovering above, peaking out of the tree leaves.

Maybe your mind was still hazy from the vent, or maybe you got cocky from seeing the ship.

Either way, when a blast was shot close to your feet it distracted you long enough to trip and fall...

"Tech!" You managed to gasp out, besides your screams. You didn't have to though, as he was at your side before you could yell a second time.

He didn't say a word, he was too focused on you. For once, he had nothing to say. His veins were struck with your screams. He'd never been so frightened in his life.

You found yourself propped against a tree, unable to walk. It seemed like you also did something to your leg. Tech was more concerned with your arm, though.

He held it gently, working steadily. It was incredibly painful, but you trusted him to know what he was doing.

Before you knew it, he had lifted you up with a strength you forgot he had.

In your pain stricken state, you did nothing but cling to the man holding you. He started to bring you to The Marauder as fast as he could.

You passed out before you made it, slumping into Techs arms.

Hours later you awoke, a dull throbbing in your leg and left arm. It hurt incredibly to move either, you sucked in with a hiss at the pain.

At the noise, Tech appeared at your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, eyes on his datapad.

"Not too good... My arm it-" You looked down at it, wrapped perfectly and tight in a white gauze.

"Yes, you managed to break where your ulna crosses your radius. I performed a minor surgery on it, with the proper care you will make a full recovery." He said, head still down.

You swallowed, what could be so important on his datapad. You apparently just had surgery and broke two bones! "What are you doing?" You tried not to sound passive aggressive.

"Checking your vitals. I am concerned with your risk of infection." He said, now looking up at you.

"Oh..." You felt silly now.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Tech then reached for your good arm. He set the datapad down, his full attention on you now. He guided you to sit up.

"When you fell," He gently rotated your arm to be palm up. "Your arm was like this." He turned your wrist. With the lightest touch you'd ever felt, he traced the outline of your two bones on your forearm. "See how they cross? You were unlucky, just breaking the ulna or radius would be a much easier fix. We will need to stabilize both now."

He was referencing some sort of cast.

"I have it wrapped now, as the bone did pierce your skin." He said.

"Thank you..."

"Of course, you needed medical attention. I am more than capable of administering it."

You bit down on your lip, very careful to notice he was still holding your wrist gently.

"No, I mean. Thank you, for saving me..."

He released your wrist, resting his hand next to your thigh. "Oh, well, you are welcome."

It was quiet again. You sheepishly scanned the room, trying not to look at him.

"I was, I-" He took a deep breath. "When you screamed, I felt... I was..." He thought on what word applied best. "Scared."

You tried to reassure him, "I'm okay now."

"I thought you had been shot." He couldn't meet your eye.

You shuffled closer, as much as you were able. "Tech-"

"I've never felt like that before." He admitted, now looking at you.

You reached your right arm out, a hand on his cheek.

With your name leaving his lips, "You are special. I recognize that- that my feelings for you are more exaggerated than anyone else."

Your cheeks felt hot, you were sure they were colored. "Tech, I completely understand the feeling.."

"You do?" He questioned, almost like he was writing mental notes down.

"Yes. I feel the exact same way." You confessed. "About who?" He got slightly defensive, stiffening up.

With a suppressed laugh, you smirked. "You."

He clicked his tongue, almost as a 'Eureka' moment.

Your thumb moved up and down on his cheek. You were unsure what he was comfortable doing with the new information. Though, knew he'd stop you if he was put off by you.

At that thought, you leaned in. Your heart swelled when he did the same, your lips meeting. He was soft, slow, and full of meaning. He was still aware of your injuries. You, however, forgot the second your lips touched his.

It was all promptly followed by a gasp of pain by you, as the leaning put pressure on your leg.

"Oh, you also fractured your fibula. Perhaps we shall continue later." He ran a finger up your leg, showing you where it was. It was an innocent act, but your brain didn't care. You were red as a tomato.

His datapad beeped, he picked it up. "Are you okay? Your heart rate has significantly increased the past minute." He looked at you warily.

His lack of recognition of your embarrassment just made your heart beat faster. "Yes, Tech. I'll be fine..." You said, a laugh finally breaking free at his confused face.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

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sanjifucker42069 · 8 months

Text

Peaches

Sanji keeps finding you sneaking food. Just what are you hiding?

Note; girl, rats are cute, and Sanji’s association with rats melts my heart 🥺🥺🥺

Word count: 1416

The third time Sanji caught you sneaking food out of the larder is when he grew suspicious.

"Do I not feed you enough love?" He interrogated, You jumped, hands holding onto your small bag. It had to be past midnight. You turned to him looking mildly terrified, eyes scanning for an exit plan. Sanji quirked a perfect brow when you didn't respond. "Well?"

Nothing. You drew close the bag in your hands, peeking in one last time. You seemed so skittish tonight. What were you hiding? Sanji didn't have time to consider what before you shot upright, speaking a mile a minute.

"HAHAHA! I'm sorry Sanji, you got me! I was feeling extra peckish tonight HAHAHA!" You slapped at your leg as if he told you the world's funniest joke, before robotically moving to the door. "Well I've had my fill so I'll just be going back to bed. It won't happen again. Good night Sanji."

"Hold it." He ordered. You froze, a visible sweat on your brow. You let out a little whimper. He softened, and with a sigh, motioned to the table. With palpable dejection, you made your way to the table, ready to be scolded. "Love, you know I keep a thorough inventory of our food. Normally I'd think you were giving it to Luffy, but there's hardly any food going missing. So what's going on?"

You twiddled with your thumbs. "I was just a little hungry." You were still avoiding his gaze. Sanji wasn't convinced.

"Love, I'm not going to be mad."

"Yeah you are..." Your voice was soft, trailing off. Sanji sighed, pulling out a smoke and hurriedly lighting it. He took a long drag to calm himself. Why would you ever think he'd be mad at you? He honestly felt a little heartbroken that you didn't trust him.

"Love-"

Squeak.

You flustered. Sanji narrowed his eyes, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"What was that?"

"My stomach?" You tried, clearly nervous.

"Try again."

You sighed, bringing the bag up to rest on the table. He saw you fiddle with the drawstring. Upon hearing you hum, he stared, seeing you looking at him through lidded eyes. "Promise not to be mad?"

Yeah yeah whatever to get you to stop breaking his heart with those puppy eyes, he thought. Instead he said, "I could never be, love."

You undid the drawstring. Opening the bag another squeak rang out, echoing in the silent kitchen. You cringed. For a few seconds nothing happened, and Sanji could feel himself growing antsy. Then, a small grey head popped up, whiskers twitching.

A rat!!?!?!

"Her name is Peaches." You muttered. Sanji was shocked, staring at the little creature before him. 'Peaches' seemed to stare back at him, holding her dainty paws in front of her as she rose to two feet. Sanji noted the small yellow ribbon adorning her. And, was that a tiny bandage around her ankle?

"Huh." He mused, taking a drag. As he blew another plume of smoke, the rat squeaked.

"I'm sorry Sanji. I knew you'd be mad if you found out we had rats, but I swear it's only Peaches, I found her on the ship last week. She had a bad ankle. I saw her crawl onto the ship from the docks. Normally I'd put her back but she was hurting and....I just couldn't leave her there to die."

Peaches moved closer to Sanji, staring at him. If Sanji fed into his delusions he could swear the rat was studying him.

"She's clean I promise!" You cringed at how loud you were. Moving to a quieter tone you looked at Peaches. "She had a bath. She's actually really chill."

"So she's why you're sneaking morsels?"

You nodded. He sighed. Sanji weirdly felt his heart swell. You'd save a little rat on death's door? You were a pirate. Your gentleness always stood out to him, but the way you pet the little rat, cooing at it had him feel his heart race. You reached out and grabbed his hands. He stared at the gesture, cigarette hanging from his mouth limply. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours, startled at how determined you look.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop sneaking food. But I won't get rid of Peaches." You shook his hands for emphasis. "I promise she won't come into the kitchen! Just...please don't tell anyone."

"You want her around? Even if I don't?" He asked. You met him with a fiery stare.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. But yeah... You're dear to me, but this little creature deserves empathy too, and she's not hurting anyone." Peaches squeaked as if to back up your claim.

Out of all the scenarios, you didn't expect Sanji to give you that soft smile and remove a hand. You watched with bated breath as he instead set his sights on Peaches, holding his hand out.

Peaches sniffed his hand experimentally. Clearly she judged him to be safe, as she crawled into his hand. Your heart stopped at how soft Sanji looked. He spoke around the cigarette, staring down at the little rat.

"You're too sweet." His eyes flicked up to yours. "It doesn't worry me. So long as she isn't a nuisance in the kitchen, it really doesn't matter to me. It's sweet that you are so dedicated to her." Peaches crawled up Sanji's arm, settling on his shoulder. He gave a lopsided smile. Sanji removed the cigarette from his mouth. "She's cute. Y'know some of the first meals I ever made were for rats."

You stared at him. "Really?"

He laughed, a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, they're cute, and they're not picky eaters...but let's not talk about that" He peeked towards Peaches. "So what's your favourite then, miss?"

When Sanji looked back at you he was stunned at how wide your smile was, tears in your eyes. "She likes cake, it's not good for her. She does like apples though."

"Apples?" He laughed, disbelief clear in his tone. "Not Peaches?"

You blushed. Sanji felt his heart skip a beat at your blush. "Oh. There was a book I read as a kid, it had a rat named Peaches."

"Hmm, an apple cake then? I'll make you one when you're better Peaches to celebrate, okay?" He reached back over and grabbed your hand. You stared into his eyes, their soft warmth drawing you in. "Love, you're too nice, y'know? I don't know any other pirate who'd cry over a rat." You started to bluster but he shushed you. "It's not a bad thing. You're a good person."

Sanji went to take a drag from his cigarette when he felt tiny hands snatch it from his grasp. He gasped, offended. The two of you watched as the little rat skittered down Sanji's arm, cigarette bitten sideways.

"Peaches!" You scolded. Peaches pointedly avoided you, taking the cigarette back into both hands and stubbing it out. You laughed. "Oh Sanji, I'm so sorry. I guess she doesn't like smoke!"

Sanji joined in, laughing freely. "Guess not. Lucky she's cute. You too." You felt your blush darken. Sanji rose to his feet, giving you a wink. "How 'bout some tea? Maybe something for the little one too, yeah?"

You nodded, heart missing a beat at ‘little one’. Sanji rounded the table, pulling you into a side hug. You felt him place a featherlight kiss on your hair. As quick as it started it stopped, and the man headed to the kitchen. The domesticity was killing you. Peaches gave you a pointed look. You stuck your tongue out at her.

"Sanji?" You asked quietly. The man hummed in response, placing the kettle on to boil. "Thank you. You're a good man."

Sanji smiled. "You're too kind, love."

You rose to join the man, quickly glueing yourself to his side. Sanji welcomed you in, arm wrapping around your shoulder. You snuggled into his side. The two of you basking in each other. You pulled his tie lightly coaxing him to your level. With a smile, you kissed his cheek gently. Sanii blushed lightly, stunned by your actions. Behind you the kettle whistled. The two of you sharing the same thought:

I could get used to this.

And so the three of you settled in for a late night, an odd storybook tea party: a gentle chef with a hidden past, a sensitive pirate with a heart of gold, and a little rat with a dislike of smoke.

#sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #i actually formatted this one properly lmao #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #i couldnt help myself i had to post this one too ;-; promise ill spread em out more from now #fluff #ill go back and format good boy properly in the morning its 5am rn lmaooooooo

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

weaponized insomnia strikes again, my friends. I wrote this between the hours of 2am-3am so if you see errors, simply ignore. I don't even really know what this is but I just think the idea of Eddie reaching out for Steve is neat. <3

It starts innocently enough— a simple touch of his fingers to Steve’s forearm.

A ghost, a whisper of skin to skin, is all it takes to ignite a fuse that’s been destined to burn since the second Eddie held that bottle to Steve’s throat in a rundown shack. Eddie shouldn’t be surprised that that’s how their story starts, really. What had he expected? Something traditional? Laughable. No, instead, the very tips of his fingers reach for Steve’s arm from the lumpy mattress of his hospital room, surrounded by beeping monitors and sterility, and that’s all it takes.

When he learns how to walk again, it’s Steve on the other end of the room, an encouraging smile plastered across his face and ready to grab his hands to steady him at even the slightest wobble.

When he wakes up screaming, it’s Steve at his bedside before even the nurses. They’re ready with sedatives but Steve rubs his shoulder, traces over the scars on his collarbone to quell the phantom burning, and sure, the medications help but he keeps reaching for Steve first anyways.

When he finally leaves the hospital, flanked by Hopper, Wayne, and Steve to shield him from ignorant townspeople who don’t get the he’s innocent memo, it’s Steve he finds himself reaching for once they’re safely in the backseat of the Hopper’s cruiser.

It only makes sense, then, that it becomes a habit. Outside of the hospital walls, Eddie keeps reaching and Steve’s always there, reliable as a lighthouse guiding ships to shore.

It evolves slowly as the fuse sparks, and sure, Steve’s still the one he reaches for when the anxiety sets in, like the time the old clock chimes in the library as he studies for his GED, but he finds himself with his hands on Steve for less dire reasons, too.

Movie night? Their forearms touch from the cramped quarters of Eddie’s living room, or their thighs line against one another, or Eddie’s arm drapes over the back of the couch so his fingertips graze the soft material of Steve’s Henley.

Smoking in the back of the van? Eddie knows that Steve can light his own joint, he’s seen him do it hundreds of times at this point, but he can’t help the urge to light it for him, letting his fingertips graze the warm skin of Steve’s knuckles in the process.

Lugging the kids to and from the arcade? Steve makes a joke about someone’s attitude (the someone depends on the day, honestly, but Dustin’s emerged as the most frequent offender) and Eddie can’t hold himself back from nudging their shoulders together and watching Steve’s smile grow at the touch. Eddie knows he’s reaching for a reason, but he tamps it down the best he can with his metaphorical Rebooks because it’s Steve. He can’t risk losing his tether, his anchor, by fucking it up with feelings. He can ignore it. It’s fine.

And it is, until one day, Steve reaches for him.

The movie they’d chosen didn’t warn them before showing a brutal slasher scene and Eddie’s skin crawls at the sights and sounds of the victim being torn apart. Every scar on his body feels like it’s on fire but before he can reach, before he can grip Steve’s arm tight enough for his fingernails to leave little crescent moon marks in the summer-baked tan of his flesh, Steve’s hand is on his thigh. Warm, heavy, and grounding, Eddie stares down where their bodies connect.

“Not really feeling this one, let’s do Ferris Bueller again?” Steve stops the VHS and sets it to rewind.

Eddie’s still staring at Steve’s hand on his thigh. Even before it was Steve, Eddie’s always been the one reaching. For friends, for comfort, for companionship. He’s reached with his hands, his heart, his words. Hellfire and Corroded Coffin are both tangible expressions of the depth of his reaching but for all of the ways he’s extended olive branches to those he felt deserving, few have reached back— and the ones who had felt nothing like Steve. Steve touches beyond something his skin, touches something buried deep, perhaps a locked chest to which his fingers hold the lone key.

“You alright?” Steve asks, turning his body slightly to face him and leaving his hand in place.

Eddie finally tears his eyes from his thigh to meet Steve’s gaze. His eyes, green specks and all, watch him with such fondness that it makes him ache. He nods and swallows the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Thanks.” His voice is barely more than a whisper and Steve’s brows knit together, a little wrinkle appearing between them.

“You sure? You look, I dunno, off. Wanna talk?”

It's a loaded question and the facade of it’s fine that Eddie's built up over months shatters like the glass it’s made of.

“You— I— Steve, please don’t let this fuck up our perfectly good friendship, please—” He’s sure that Steve can hear the clattering in his chest but just ignore it, opting instead to move his hand from Eddie’s thigh up to his shoulder. Soft fingers brush his hair away from his face, rub small circles into his skin over his shirt, settle there like a weighted blanket. So many soft touches, so much reaching, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

“Take a breath, man. I’m here. What’s up? Was it the movie? You looked fucking tense, I probably should’ve picked up on it soone—”

“Why? Why should you’ve picked up on it sooner?” Eddie interrupts, turning to face him with wide eyes and hope and terror.

“Uh, because it’s you? I know your tells, Eddie. I do pay attention.” It’s almost indignant, the way Steve phrases it. I know you, I see you, duh? As if it’s not the first time in his life that’s happened.

Eddie thinks he’s going absolutely batshit when he hears himself say, “Steve, I like you.” The fuse that’d been lit creeps down to its final thread and Eddie explodes.

“I like you way more than I should, way more than a friend should like another friend, you know? And, and touching you the way I have been has been enough for me, really, because I’d rather have that than have nothing because those are the obvious two options and I just— fuck, I don’t know why I’m talking or saying any of this but I convinced myself it’d be fine but now you’re touching me and you’re seeing me and I don’t— I don’t know what to do with that?” Eddie stops for a breath and pushes on, talking himself in circles.

Steve watches with the same raised eyebrows and beguiled expression he gives Robin when she rambles, except the drumming of his heart is a dead giveaway that no, this fondness in his chest is not the same. Finally, his own fuse burning out in tandem with Eddie’s, Steve lets his hand travel from its resting place on Eddie’s shoulder to trace his collarbone, the side of his neck, and landing gently against his cheek. Eddie’s mouth snaps closed mid-sentence and he glances down, trying to see his own cheek and the hand that’s thumbing beneath his cheekbone.

Silence is a heavy blanket, wrapping them together in the warmth they’ve created on the oversized couch.

“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?” Steve’s close enough that Eddie can smell the pizza they’d eaten for dinner and feels his breath against his skin. His lips part unconsciously and he nods, the only response he can muster. Steve gently pulls him in and presses their lips together, his other hand gliding across to grip Eddie’s waist while Eddie’s tangle themselves in the front of Steve’s shirt. It’s slow, and it’s patient, and it’s just as wonderfully soft as Eddie’s imagined the many, many times he’s let himself imagine.

Eddie keeps reaching, and Steve reaches back.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things #myfic #mostly fluff with a teensy bit of angst hurt/comfort sprinkled on top like parmesan cheese #myblurbs

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strawberry-whorecake · 10 months

Text

Good Girl | K.R.

pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader

summary: Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did. So you found yourself sneaking around Starkiller Base for the satisfaction of your urges.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), PinV sex, praise

a/n: holy shit- can i just say thank you for all the interaction i’ve been getting on my fics-?? i’m genuinely floored, i was just writing and posting these for my own self-indulgence but it means literally so much that you guys have been enjoying them omg. since you enjoyed kylo so much last time heres a small lil smut in means of my appreciation <3

What the fuck were you doing?!

You rushed down the halls ducking around corners, peering for a sign of any wanderers on Starkiller Base. You were terrified of being caught, but your impulse to sneak out of your quarters and into the Commander’s came strong and suddenly.

Metallic footprints drew closer in front of you, eliciting a gasp from your throat which you quickly entrapped with the clasp of your hand as you ducked into an unseen corner. The footsteps neared– then faded, finally vanishing as you watched the Stormtrooper disappear from sight.

That was fucking close… so why were you doing this again?

Your urges got the best of you, and now you were creeping around the base because it was well into the late hours of the night– or arguably the early hours of the morning, and Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did.

You waited around the corner for another couple seconds to make sure no one else would come around, and to your relief the halls were void, so you continued on your journey to the Commander’s chambers.

As you walked you scrutinized yourself, questioning how you’d fallen into the face of this predicament in the first place. You were a meer engineer, assigned to working on ships that flew in and out of the base.

You recalled your first meeting with Kylo Ren, and how he immediately captivated and terrified you– and he of course knew, and played into. Somehow this thing had bloomed between you two, and you weren’t particularly interested in snuffing out its flame any time soon.

After a while of stalking around with your guard up to not be caught, you reached his door.

Glancing over your shoulders for any wanderers, you cursed yourself– no one was permitted in Kylo’s quarters without his direct permission, of course the halls would be void.

You shook your head and quickly inputted the code to his lock system, listening to the metal doors reluctantly squeal open only seconds later.

Dipping inside you peered around, his neat and orderly chambers were dark, and your eyes found his bed– found him, sleeping on one side.

You watched the doors close behind you as you slipped off your shoes, leaving them in the doorway. Slowly you crept through his room, approaching his bed. As you drew nearer you pulled your top over your head before crawling in next to him.

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Kylo was unpredictable– you had no way of knowing if he would be pleased with your appearance, or if he’d Force-throw you out of his chambers. Sure, he’d granted you permission to his quarters, under the premise he was in them, but how would he react to you waking him up?

Swallowing down your nerves, you gently caressed his cheek with your finger, which made him inhale deeply and stir despite still being asleep.

Taking hold of his cheek you led his lips to yours, kissing him. When his lips met your own his eyes fluttered open slowly. At first his kiss was confused but it rather quickly grew hot and rough.

Without tearing your mouth from his you gently pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. He pulled away only for a moment, just to take you in– and he smirked before pulling your face into his and kissing you hungrily.

His tongue twisted fervidly with yours, hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and soft sounds of already growing pleasure leaked from your lips. When he pulled back again, his plush pink lips glistened with the mix of your saliva.

“I missed this.” he growled and warmth developed as you felt him grow hard beneath you.

His kisses trailed from your lips down your jawline before they landed on your neck, sucking and nibbling at your skin.

A moan escaped from your throat despite trying to suppress it by clenching your teeth to your lip. You pulled away from him and lowered yourself to his abdomen, kissing his exposed stomach and upper pelvis.

Your eyes looked up pleadingly as you pulled down his boxers, and he only hummed in response.

You licked your lips, building up wetness in your mouth as you took him in your hand, gently placing a kiss to his tip.

Despite barely touching him, you knew how much he missed you by the bead of precum already dripping from him.

Running your tongue along his base, you then placed him in your mouth, drawing in your cheeks and sucking at his length until you pulled a groan from his throat.

He instinctively grabbed the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and making you gag lightly on his cock.

You looked up, watching as he smirked. “Good girl.” he cooed.

You caressed his skin as you swallowed him. “Fuck…” he let his dark waves crash against his pillow as he threw his head back. His brow furrowed lightly as his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands still gripped your head while the other folded behind his own head.

He looked incredible like this, the blinking stars gently illuminating him in a soft glow from the window positioned behind his bed. The muscles in his arms rippling as he let himself enjoy what you had to offer him, the sight of him quickly reminded you of why you risked coming to his quarters in the first place.

His pleasure made you eager to keep going, and the arousal flooding between your own legs was increasingly difficult to ignore. You couldn’t wait any longer to have him as you slipped off of him and stripped yourself of the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself bare for him.

You ignored the warmth that flooded to your cheeks as he looked you over, his stature relaxed with his arm still casually placed behind his head.

You pulled at his boxers, removing them from his legs before disregarding them to the floor with your clothes. Crawling back on top of him you took him once more in your hand as you led him inside you.

Although this was farthest from your first time with Kylo, you would never be prepared for his size.

Your mouth gaped as he entered you, squirming atop him as you worked to adjust to his size as he split you to the seam. He only chuckled as he watched you, but after a few moments you began riding him, dragging your hips against his.

He moaned as you lowered yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper into you. His arms wrapped around your frame and flipped you onto your back.

He leveled himself up by placing one hand on the bed beside your head as the other gripped harshly at your throat. A soft gasp managed to escape from your slack lips and he loosened his grip– just slightly.

His own impatience took over as he pushed into you, not holding back. You whimpered at the sudden force and reached up for his arm clamped around your neck for something to hold onto.

He smirked, shaking your hands off of him as he quickly caught them with both of his own and pinned them above your head before kissing you deeply and with need.

He withdrew himself only to thrust back in, creating a pattern as he did so. His pace quickened as he swapped your pinned wrists to one hand, letting his now free hand find your chest, kneading and toying with your breasts. His thumb flicked at your bud making you mewl out again.

You wiggled out of his grip, which he let you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you.

He pounded into you faster, then slower, then harder– all rather quickly. His cock stroked your walls, cockhead prodding against that sweet spot that made your stomach churn in the best possible way.

“Fuck... Ah- Kylo-” you groaned as you felt him pummeling against your core, tangling your legs around his waist. Your moans only continued to please him, proud of himself at how easily he could make you moan for him. He seized a handful of your hair into his fist and tugged slightly.

Wrapping your arms around his broad back you pulled him deeper into you, and he didn’t hold back. He rocked his body back and forth with yours, you both synced in sin.

The only sounds that filled the room were Kylo’s stuttered breaths, your moans, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin.

He grabbed for your throat and pulled you into a steamy kiss, his tongue pushing past your teeth before dancing with yours.

With every thrust inside you, you could feel yourself growing tighter as your walls clenched together, holding back euphoria. “Sh-shit- Kylo…” you mewled rather pathetically.

In a hushed tone he growled, “Beg.”

He fucked deeper into you than you thought was possible by now. “Kylo please I-” your words were cut off by a moan that was pulled from your throat at a particularly hasty thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take.

“I said beg, slut.” he growled again.

He could feel you drawing you in, your walls growing claustrophobic around him, and he knew you were close, so he kept going.

Quickening his pace, he placed your chin in his hand making you look at him while you pleaded.

He glared into your eyes, then let his gaze drift to your perfectly parted lips as he mouthed the word “Beg” once more.

Giving out you finally cried, “Please! Let me cum, Kylo-!” your mouth gaped, words straining out. Your eyes were barely open but remained locked on his.

Kylo let his tongue dart past his own slightly parted lips, wetting them as he stared down at you, desperate and begging.

He knew you didn’t have long before you had reached your limit, whether he wanted to deprive you of that or not, so he let you have it.

“Good girl.” He hunched over so his lips just barely touched your ear as he whispered, “Now cum for me.”

He himself didn’t have much longer with the way your velveteen walls stroked him with every buck of his hips. His pace was frantic as he slammed into you, watching the way your brows knit and you panted and moaned past your lips.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving bites and kisses as he made his way to your collarbone– the cherry on top. You clung to him as you tightened around him, reaching your high in a pathetic array of moans.

Your vision faded out and shockwaves of electricity bolted through your nerves as you came around him, your walls milking him deliciously. He let out a groan of his own as his head lolled forward and he gripped your hips, pulling you down onto his cock.

With a final groan you felt your cunt flood with warmth as he came inside you, still driving his hips into yours.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he pulled out of you with a grunt before laying down beside you. He pulled you close and coddled you through your finish. Your knees were lightly trembling which brought a smile to his face.

You buried your face into his chest as he let his fingers caress your skin before planting a kiss on your forehead, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Such a good girl.” he purred before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, “My good girl.”

Your face grew hot. The tone of his voice and his words alone made your heart skip a beat.

You were Commander Ren’s good girl.

#adam driver #adcu #adcu smut #adcu x reader #smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #star wars smut #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #whorecake fics

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tightjeansjavi · 5 months

Text

The Menu | Part 5

“my body is a cage”

A/N: I wrote this in a matter of hours yesterday..and also decided to say fuck the canon timeline so <3

~word count: 4.6k~

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel promises that he can make your pain go away. He’s a man that never goes back on his word.

Warnings: trauma responses from SA (not by Joel) mildly descriptive flashback to SA, degrading language, hurt, comfort, dark!joel, protective!joel, he’s kinda shit at communicating, but he’s trying his best for you, softish!joel, talk of the past, angst, sprinkle of fluff, intense emotional feelings, you and Joel let your guard down around one another, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s. I played around with the canon timeline a bit) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

A languid roll of condensation drips down the base of Joel’s glass that has long since been abandoned the second you fell to your knees in an unceremonious fashion between his parted thighs.

Acceptance already began to make its home again in your heart when you watched Joel slowly shake his head. It hurt, like all rejections do, but it stung a little deeper than you were willing to admit.

Joel Miller didn’t want you anymore. He’d forget about you when the dust would inevitably settle. He’d find someone else to bury his troubles into. It wouldn’t be you, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe the presence of Joel in your life was not a good thing.

It still hurts. No amount of whiskey-melded poker face could mask that.

The weight of his actions seemed to strike their mark along him as well. Another drop of moisture slid down the glass, pooling along the worn down coffee table. He blinked once, twice, swallowing the prominent lump growing in his throat. His pupils had blown wide like two shiny 8-balls. Fuck.

The blooming awkwardness reared its ugly head when a silent tear traveled down your cheekbone. Once the first one escaped, the flood gates opened.

His gut twisted and churned painfully like a stranded ship being tousled by an onslaught of unforgiving swells. He couldn’t tear his sights from your doe-eyed teary gaze. His own tears threatened to spill when you flinched from his right hand moving upwards towards your face.

His fingers quivered when they finally settled against your clammy skin. Joel Miller would never believe himself to be a gentle-touched man. Maybe a long time ago when the sun warmed his skin, and joyous laughter echoed in both ears, and his eyes were bright and full of life, but now? His kindness was reserved, locked away, buried six feet under the cold clutches of earth. The key was thrown away, forgotten and rusted away along with what remained of his tattered and bruised heart.

Here in his hold, your skin warm, soft beneath the rough calluses of his palm, he felt. He felt not just anger, but guilt, sadness, a newfound ache that was tangled up in that stupid four letter word that he would be damned to ever utter its existence again.

“Hey, it’s okay, Angel. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He reassured you, big brown eyes never leaving yours.

You had never heard this brutish man speak to you in such a sincerely soft way. There wasn’t an ilk of pity or condescendence in his tone. Nothing but concern, fear, a desperate need to ascend comfort in his words.

He was so..confusing.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, choking back a sob that died in your throat. “You—you should go, Joel.” You went to brush away his hand to crawl as far away from him as physically possible, but he wasn’t budging. He’d never leave.

“Hey, look at me.” He commanded softly. His other hand found purchase around the left side of your face. His movements were gentle and slow. He wanted to ground you, to keep your soul from being plucked up like a marionette. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You pushed and pulled against him, grinding your teeth together when he still sat unmoving. It was as if you were the unsuspecting bird, and he was the wet cement that would soon harden and fossilize around your body.

“Why?” You questioned. Your sadness had ebbed away and was quickly replaced with simmering frustration. “You don’t want me anymore, Joel. There’s nothing left for you here, so just—fuckin’ leave.” You snapped.

“Angel, I never said I didn’t want you anymore. Please stop fightin’ me. Please.” He pleaded, the rough pads of his thumbs swiped under your eyes, collecting the tears that pooled there while they awaited their time to fall.

“You didn’t need to say it, Joel. I could fuckin’ feel it.” You sniffled, falling back on your haunches in defeat.

“No, sweet girl. You’re mistaken. I swear. I’m shit at this. This whole..communicating thing has never been my forte. I’m sorry. I’m so—sorry. But somethin’ about this ain’t feel right. I—I don’t want to assume, but somethin’ happened to you. I know you don’t want to tell me, but maybe—”

“But maybe what, Joel? Why do you even care? Why all of a sudden—when you said yourself that I’m nothin’ but your whore on stilts. A tight hole to fuck whenever you please. What, did you have a sudden change of heart? Gonna manipulate me into believing that you actually care about me? Fuck you—”

“I swear on my daughters fuckin’ grave that I care about you. I am not manipulating you into believing anythin’ that is leaving my mouth, Angel. I am tellin’ you the truth. You mean somethin’ to me. Puttin’ it into words ain’t easy for a man like me, but you’re hurtin.’ You’re in pain, and I swear to god if some sick fuck put their hands on you, I’ll make sure they never see the light of day again.” He confessed fiercely.

He might as well get down on one knee and sign his life off to you in red ink. To ensure his promise to keep you safe and protected like he was some knight in shining armor.

Benji yanked you up by the scruff of your neck like you were some stray cat, or a tattered ragdoll. You felt like a bug at his mercy, awaiting a painful death of being squashed beneath a leather boot, split into a million pieces. You could hear his friends snickering in the back while they were still fisting their cocks like the disgusting hounds that they were. “Jus’ remember your place in this world, Angel. No matter what anyone tells you, you will be nothin’ but a come-stained, filthy whore. And when you return to him, like I know you will, he’ll toss you away like yesterday's trash. All men are the same, sweetheart. They don’t like it when another dog has been in their bitch.” He spat cruelly, a glob of saliva landing along your cheek.

“No, Joel. I’m nothin’ but a come-stained whore, and you’ll toss me away like yesterday’s trash.” You whispered solemnly, chin tilting downwards in disgust with what was instilled in you to be your true identity. Crestfallen tears were wept. Tears that trailed down your cheeks and rolled down the expanse of his bare wrists and forearms. Each teardrop that landed upon his skin sent his anger flaring upwards the way that smoke rises from a blazing fire.

“Who did this to you, Angel? Tell me his name, and I swear to you that I will make this all go away. Tell me the name of the man who laid his fuckin’ hands on you. Tell me, please. Please, Angel. I want to help you.” He was on the cusp of begging, hating the fear that began to douse the flames. The fear that maybe it was too late, and the damage was done already.

Your eyes slowly meet his, rimmed in red, skin puffy and dry. From just the look alone that you gave him, he knew who had done this to you. He knew the second your lips parted, and uttered the name that sent the beast inside of him awakening once more.

“Benji.”

The dam broke the moment his name left your lips; you crumbled. An echo of gut wrenching, broken sobs tumbled out of you as Joel scrambled to keep you together. He was on the floor with you now, cradling you in his arms while struggling to gather up the broken pieces figuratively scattered around him. It was as if you were loose grains of sand, and no matter how many times he scooped you up into his gentle palms, you kept slipping through the cracks.

You found yourself crawling into his lap, straddling his hips with your arms latched around his neck. You anchored yourself around him while his shirt soaked up your heavy flowing tears like a sponge. His arms were around you like a cage, comforting you the only way he knew how; through touch. One large hand came to cradle the back of your head, while the other rested along the curve of your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin with the rough pads of his fingertips.

It’s okay, Angel. I have you. You’re safe. I promise.

and through your tears, and your aching, you wanted to believe him. But believing and trusting someone never came easy. Especially in this world. To throw all your eggs into one basket would be considered foolish. Since the night of the outbreak you had convinced yourself that you needed no one. Not a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to confide in. You hadn’t sought for human connection till you crossed paths with Joel Miller. And now you felt guilty for webbing him into your life. For making this mountain of a man feel.

Was it intentional? No. But sometimes we lose all sense of control and ultimately find ourselves giving into that thing that we fear the most. In all retrospect, you had tried to push Joel away from you, but he was a stubborn man. The most stubborn person you had ever met. A whole lotta bark and bite. Fearless until he gave into feeling. Unmoving until he began to feel for you. The girl that was just looking for a vice to fill a void, and instead found a man that would quite literally kill for you. He’d lasso the fucking moon and bring it down to you if you asked. He’d be your friend, your shoulder to cry on, your comfort in the odd hours of the night when the nightmares would creep in.

He’d be your laughter, your anger, your sadness. He’d be whatever the fuck you wanted him to be. That was the thing about men like Joel Miller, they were fiercely loyal to the ones they loved to the point where maybe he was the foolish one. Maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew. And if that were the case, he’d lick his wounds, convince himself that he was okay, and move on until his body would ultimately give way to the grief he carried day in, and day out.

“Will you let me take care of you, Angel?” He asked suddenly, so softly you could barely hear him through the thick of your messy tears.

“If you wish it.” You sniffled, cheek pressed firmly against the damp fabric of his shirt where your tears had soaked through.

He rumbled a sigh, nostrils flaring while he tilted his chin down to take a peek at your current state. He’d never seen you look so tiny, frail, curling into yourself like a mouse shriveling from a house cat on the prowl. His latent caretaker instincts were kicking into full drive after the dust had been blown off of them and wafted through the stagnant air.

“C’mon, sweet girl.” He urged in a gentle tone, strong arms tightening their hold around you while his hands gently hoisted you up by your thighs. His knees creaked and groaned from carrying the weight of himself and you to a standing position. You clung to him still in a koala like fashion.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked unsurely.

“Takin’ you to the bathroom so we can wash the pain away.” He replied quietly.

His footsteps are soft, yet calculated while his hands stay secured around your thighs. He uses his shoulder to push open your flimsy bathroom door. You find yourself sitting along the toliet seat, back resting against the wall with your hands in your lap. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly. You flinch slightly when the sharp edge of your nail tears through dry cuticle skin surrounding your thumb. The sting feels nice, calming in a sense.

Your eyes stay focused on the wall even when the shadow of his silhouette looms over you, and his warm palm suddenly engulfs your own.

“Don’t do that.” He whispers, brows furrowed when he notices the bead of blood on the side of your thumb. “You have beautiful hands, Angel. Don’t go’n ruin ‘em.” He means every word.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can really say.

He slips his fingers through your own and you can feel every ridge and rough callus through his skin. His thumb strokes the outside of your hand in a tender sweep.

You want to cry, but you don’t. Instead you lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes while the sounds of the water sloshing into the tub drowns out your thoughts.

With his freehand he constantly checks the temperature of the water to make sure it’s not too hot, and not too cold. The last thing he wants to do is shock your system. He glances up at your face for a moment before he focuses on his blurry reflection in the rippling water.

How can I make her pain go away?

It's not something that will ever go away. It becomes bearable, but with time. All you can do is be there for her the best way that you can. He reminds himself.

“Angel.”

Your eyes snap open at the sound of his voice ringing in your ears.

So it wasn’t all a dream.

“Uh..the water should be good now. Do you want some privacy? I don’t—need to be in here with you..I understand if you—” he’s stumbling over his words more than he intended to, but this is uncharted territory for him, and he’s unsure.

“No.” You finally speak, “I want you to stay.”

He breathes; relieved for a moment. “Okay, I’ll stay. Do you..want some help?” He’s referring to your clothes and if you require assistance in undressing.

“Please.”

He nods reassuringly before standing up to his full height from where he was kneeling alongside the tub. “Arms up.” He softly requests while he reaches for the hem of your shirt.

Your body works strictly on autopilot, boneless as you lift your arms above your head so it’s easier for him to pull your shirt up.

His wounded knuckles brush gently against your sides when he begins to lift the fabric from your body slowly. Gooseflesh begins to rise when you're exposed to the room temperature air. Your hands instinctively move to cover your modesty and he pretends to not notice the way you immediately fold in on yourself.

It hurts him to see you in such a state as this, but his feelings do not matter, he reminds himself. Yours are far more important than his own.

He waits for your consent to pop the button of your jeans followed by the zipper. His eyes stay locked on your own when he begins to ease the worn denim down your thighs. There’s two gaping holes in the fabric around your knees that weren’t there before. He begins to feel the bile rise before he forces it back down.

You're trembling by the time he reaches for the elastic waistband of your tattered panties and he finds himself freezing in place when your hands snatch his wrists frantically.

“I won’t take them off, okay?” He reassures you. “I promise.”he adds for good measure.

You trust him, and that scares you, but it’s enough for you to release his wrists from your death grip.

“Turn around, please.” You croak out, still struggling to find your voice.

He doesn’t protest, or say mean things, or make you feel ten times smaller than you already felt. He obliges your request silently.

You wait until his back is facing you before you pull your panties down over your thighs. You catch a glimpse of a maroon saturated stain that will be forever tattooed in the flimsy fabric. You want to sob, but instead you drop the material to your ankles and discard them with the rest of your tattered clothing.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you until you give him permission. By that point you were already carefully lowering yourself into the tub. He finds you with your knees protectively tucked up to your chest, folded in on yourself. A dull, sullen look glossed over in your once vibrant irises. Your eyes cast down to your reflection before staring off into nothingness once more.

“Can..I get you anything? Are you hungry? I can whip you up some soup or somethin?’” He asks while lowering himself to sit alongside the tub. He doesn’t care that his lower back pinches a bit, or his knees creak, he just wants to be there for you in any way that he can.

“Just a cigarette would be nice.” You mumble out a reply. Your eyes meet his softened gaze for a moment with your chin resting along the dip of your knee. “He took the ones that you rolled me, along with the pills, and the pistol you lent me. I’m sorry, Joel. I—I’ll pay you back.”

“Hey, you don’t have to pay me back for any of that, okay? I don’t give a fuck about the pills, and I lent you the gun and cigarettes, Angel. Don’t worry about that, okay?” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own stash and a lighter. He leaned forward, placing the cigarette between your lips before he ignited the unlit end with the lighter.

You took a long drag, letting the smoke attack your lungs, and the nicotine ease your brain into relaxation, and calm your rising anxiety.

“Okay.” You finally speak, willing yourself to scoot closer towards the edge of the tub to ash the cigarette over the side.

“Tell me something that..makes you happy.” He catches you off guard while you take another long drag. You blow the smoke off to the side, creating a hazy cloud that soon dissipates.

“Something..that makes me happy?” You question apprehensively.

“Yes. Jus’ anythin’ that you can think of that makes you happy, Angel.” He rasps softly as he awaits your response.

“The rain. But specifically when it’s storming. I love that earthy smell after a storm. When everything smells fresh, clean, alive. I like the dreary days too. Where it rains from morning through the night. I like the sound it makes when raindrops land on the pavement, or roofs. I know it might sound silly, but when I was a kid I used to sit out on the driveway with some neighborhood friends and watch the storms roll in. Always found myself getting excited when the clouds grew darker and the wind picked up..that first flash of lighting, and rumbling thunder?” You trailed off, unsure if you said too much, or too little for his liking.

“Oh, yeah, I have to agree. Who doesn’t love a good heavy storm? Perfect sleepin’ weather too. Back in Texas we’d get some pretty wild storms out there. Flash floods and all that jazz. Didn’t matter to me cus’ I’d always sleep with the window open. My younger brother, Tommy, was afraid of thunderstorms, up until the point of me tellin’ him that we were always safe inside. Think he got over the fear by the time he was ten.” Joel found himself reminiscing on his childhood, and a simpler time that felt like a ghost to him now.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You ashed the cigarette over the side of the tub once more before offering it to him. He declined with a slight shake of his head. You need it more than I do.

“Yeah, he’s..well, I don’t know where he’s at. Left with the fireflies a few years back. Thought he could be a hero and save the world. I send him radio messages every now and then jus’ to check up on him.” He sighed softly. His arm came to rest along the side of the tub, palm resting upwards in case you needed to, or wanted to hold his hand.

“Do you miss him?” You asked, shifting closer to him.

You could visibly see him tense from your question. Tommy was a sore spot for him, a festering wound at times. He felt resentful after everything he had done for his younger brother. The sacrifices he made to keep both of them safe from harm. But deep down he knew he couldn’t stay mad at his kin forever, but he wasn’t ready to let that resentment go just yet. He still needed to heal.

“I miss him more than I’m willin’ to admit, Angel. Not sure if he really misses me all that much.” He shrugged indignantly. “What about you, do..you have any siblings?”

He realized then that he didn’t know much about you at all. He knew your name, and your body, but he wanted to know more about what you were like before the world went to shit.

“Nope. Only child. Mom and Dad tried for another, but some things just aren’t meant to be.” It was your turn to shrug now. He caught you eyeing his outstretched palm resting along the chipped porcelain. If he had the ability to read minds, he certainly was reading yours now.

“And..your parents?” He asked, assuming the inevitable answer.

“Both dead. Car crash a couple years before outbreak. I was too young to comprehend any of it. Grandparents took me in luckily. We pretty much lived in desolation out in the middle of nowhere after that. Not much civilization out in the sticks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” His tone is soft, baritone deep and soothing. And truth be told, you’re still confused. You can’t help it especially when you know this is the same man that just hours ago was trying to bust down your door.

Joel Miller made your head spin.

“It’s alright, Joel. No need for you to be sorry. Life sucks sometimes. It’s just something I’ve come to accept.”

He nods affirmatively. Life does suck sometimes, ain’t that the truth.

“So, where exactly are you from then? South? Midwest? West?” He couldn’t help his curiosity to know more. He didn’t expect you to be an open book by any means, but he’d take anything you’d give him.

“Montana. Grandparents owned a horse ranch out there. Real peaceful, open country, fresh air.”

“Ah, so a real country girl then? Well, guess you and I are closer than we originally thought, huh? How’d you end up all the way in Boston?” He stretched his arm out slightly when it had grown stiff from the position it had been in.

“If you consider Texas and Montana to be close, then sure, cowboy.” There was a glimmer of sass in your tone. Just enough to cause his ears to perk up. “Honestly, after the outbreak, things just turned into one big blur for me. It’s like I had to grow up overnight. Grandpa taught me how to use a shotgun, killed my first infected shortly after that. Grandma was the first to fall, and Grandpa followed a year later. I stayed in the ranch for as long as I could, fendin’ for myself. Was only a matter of time before raiders became a problem, and I packed a bag, took a horse, and headed east.”

Joel was having a hard time comprehending just how young you truly were when the world as you knew it turned to shit. You were just a kid, a little girl fending for yourself. When he realized you were just about Sarah’s age, he didn’t know how to process that newfound information either.

“You were..just a kid when this all happened.” He nearly whispered in disbelief at the thought of a younger version of yourself, strapped with her grandpa's shotgun, and nothing but open country to trek through.

“I was.” You confirmed. “I’m sure this is just my brain blocking all the bad shit out, but I don’t remember much of what happened after I left the ranch. I guess it’s a miracle that I managed to survive this long. Guess my luck hasn’t run out entirely, huh?”

“No, it certainly hasn’t, Angel. You’ve managed to defy practically all the odds that were placed against you.”

You fall silent again, casting another look down at your reflection while the cigarette perched between middle and forefinger dies out. “What’s your favorite color, Joel?”

“Oh, so now we’re goin’ elementary?” He teases lightly in hopes to brighten your spirits just a tad. He’d kill a thousand men just to see you smile again. “I think I have to go with a shade of blue.” He decides.

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious, cowboy. You’re the one who started with the personal questions. I think knowing your favorite color is definitely considered a personal question.” You feel your lips twitch, almost as if they are trying to curve up into a smile, but it doesn’t quite happen. “And blue..like the sky?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, “blue like the ocean. But y’know..like all the shades. What about you, Angel? What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple.” “But not just any shade of purple. The kind that you can see in sunsets. It’s almost got like a pinkish hue to it? Or the purple in lavender fields. We had loads of it growing at the ranch.”

“Mm.” He hums thoughtfully, “Sunsets sure are pretty.” He’s far more relaxed now with his legs outstretched in front of him, and his chin resting along his bare bicep as he looks at you.

He asks you more questions, finding out that your favorite movies were arguably LOTR (unfortunately the third, and highly anticipated film never made it to the theaters; damn you cordyceps) and The Last Unicorn. He learned that your favorite drink of choice, before the outbreak, was either a virgin pina colada (because it tasted like the beach) or the classic kiddy cocktail; a childhood delicacy.

You learned that he and his younger brother Tommy, worked as contractors in Austin Texas, and that Joel used to be married..and he had a single daughter that he raised practically on his own. Her name was Sarah, and she died the night of the outbreak; Joel’s birthday. You also now know that his favorite movie was Curtis and Viper 2.

And through the midst of your back and forth domestic conversing, you find yourselves holding hands again. You’re not sure if he initiated it, or vice versa, but neither of you let go.

There was an unasked question that circled heavy in the air, like two vultures waiting to dive in for the kill. He could sense just as much as you could. Addressing the elephant in the room was not going to be easy, but you were beginning to realize that Joel wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, you were shocked to find that he hadn’t climbed into that damn tub with you.

“Joel?” You ask suddenly, skin beginning to prune from being in the water for too long.

“Yes, Angel?” He’s hopeful, but realistic given the circumstances.

“Did you..mean what you said earlier? About..making this all go away?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to answer. He was not the kind of man to go back on his word. “I will make sure that he pays for what he did to you, Angel. He’ll suffer, and I’ll make him wish he was never born.” Oh, he’d make him pay alright.

“Good. I want you to kill him, Joel. And I want to be there to see you do it. I want to be right there when he takes his last pathetic breath—” you don’t even realize how hard you're squeezing his hand in your grasp that his knuckles are beginning to turn white from the pressure.

“Of course I’ll kill him for you, Angel.” That wasn't even a request in his mind. Benji would die at the hands of Joel, and you would get to watch.

and then..you told him everything.

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