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tojikai · 9 months

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SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you.

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead.

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!”

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup.

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do.

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did.

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old, reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag.

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child.

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about.

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you.

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that.

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would.

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

------------------------------

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her.

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen.

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared.

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter.

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too.

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family.

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

#angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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Let me (put my lips to somethin')

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: 5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened (or: your relationship with Joel over the years)

Tags: 5+1 babeyyy, VERY self-indulged (i just want this man to call me his babygirl 😫), FLUFF, tooth-rotting fluff even, a bit of angst, age gap, PINING, i could write several fics out of this but no we're doing 5+1! also reader has she/her pronouns (i tried not to but at some point it was getting difficult not to use any :( sorry guys)

Warnings: descriptions of violence and wounds, cursing, getting drunk, David (which is a warning in itself), allusions to SA (but nothing happens)

Word count: ~9.4K (jesus i really got carried away im not doing that again for at least some time)

A/N: i am baack!! i finally had time to finish this monster and i guess it's ready to post <3 i absolutely ADORE 5+1 fics and always wanted to write one on my own. so here it is!! hope you enjoy because i loved writing it

1. boston qz

You bit your forearm harder, trying to hold back the tears of pain. The man kneeling in front of you glanced up.

“Bite the sleeve of your jacket. Otherwise they’re gonna think you’re infected and shoot you on sight.”

You didn’t answer but nodded, knowing that he was right. Holding your breath for a moment, you took a handful of the material and bit down on it, shutting your eyes tightly. The excruciating pain in your leg was hard enough to endure, but for the first place with it competed an absolutely unbearable look of poorly concealed pity (which you initially took for irritation) on the face of Tess’ friend.

It was through her that you met Joel. At the beginning he wasn’t very keen about letting you work with them but slowly warmed up to your presence – at least as much as a man like Joel could. Most of the time he was grumbling and, in all fairness, looking slightly angry but you’ve soon understood that he’s actually a pretty good guy. Caring. Funny, if he lets you see this side of him. Also really fucking handsome, but that was beside the point.

The job was supposed to be an easy one – just meet with a couple of Zeke’s people, pick up the smuggled items and exchange them for some meds and ammunition. However, none of you expected some random rogue group to ambush you on your way back and attempt to steal the cargo.

Tess has managed to get away just before soldiers showed up, alerted by the sound of gunfire way past the curfew. Before they could spot any of you, Joel quickly pulled you into one of the nearby buildings after one of the strangers slashed your thigh, leaving you unable to run.

So now here you were. Bleeding from your leg and making a pathetic crybaby out of yourself before the very eyes of the man you respected and lowkey had a small crush on.

Speaking of whom, Joel gave you a look of sympathy before squeezing the stapler handle again, ejecting another staple into your skin. You tensed and a broken cry escaped your lips, your breathing rapid.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, putting his other hand on your knee and rubbing slightly. “Just two more and you’ll be good to go.”

You breathed out a humorless laugh and wiped your face, sniffling.

“Just get on with it. This is way more embarrassing than it should be.” In the corner of your eye you saw him look up. He didn’t move the hand in which he held the staple gun yet, so you took this moment to steady your breath and slumped against the wall. “You probably think it’s pretty pathetic, but in my defense I never had such a gash closed with staples like that.”

“M’not thinkin’ that,” he retorted and you blew a raspberry.

“Sure. Tess told me about some of your forays, you know? You could probably get run over by a damn tank and walk it off like it’s nothing.”

Joel was silent for some time. You wiped your cheeks and motioned for him to eject the last staples at the edge of the deep cut in your thigh. He mumbled to you to get ready and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the pain.

It hurt like hell and you couldn’t help the tears flowing from your eyes, but soon enough it was over.

The sound of shouting from outside drew your attention from the pain in your leg for a couple of seconds. You tensed up, listening intently if the soldiers weren’t busting in the building you were in, but the noises soon went past you.

“Y’know, if my brother was here, he’d have told you about the first time I had a wound stitched outside of the controlled conditions,” Joel spoke up unexpectedly, unpacking his backpack in search of clean bandages. “I nearly bit off my thumb when he was tryin’ to sew my foot back together.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his confession and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a slight smirk.

“Is that true?”

Joel huffed with fake indignation and lifted his left hand to your eyes, twisting it so that the dim light from outside illuminated the side of it. Above and below the small bone at the base of his thumb appeared very light and irregular lines. You looked at his face with an unbelieving smile.

“When was that?”

“Ah… Just before the outbreak, I’d say.”

“And what happened to your foot?”

“Construction work. I don’t remember exactly what that was.”

“But how hard did you have to chomp down on your thumb for it to be still visible?” you asked, laughing, to which he chuckled and shrugged.

“Hey, don’t judge. If it was Tommy who was fixin’ your leg, you’d probably end up without a couple of fingers too, just for good measure.”

He found the bandage and motioned for you to straighten your leg at the knee. You watched him carefully as he looked over your bare thigh and the (not very pretty to look at) sutured wound. The leg of your pants was cut and tossed away earlier so that Joel could stitch you up freely.

“So you have a brother. Is he really that bad at treating wounds?” you asked to distract yourself from the awkwardness of the whole situation, though Joel seemed surprisingly calm.

“He got better with time,” your colleague answered and then looked up at you. “But I didn’t tell you this to bitch about Tommy’s skills.”

“Oh?” you nudged him with your other leg. “So what moral should I draw from this story?”

You clearly saw him suppressing a smile when he shook his head lightly.

“Don’t feel bad that it hurts,” he murmured and the snicker disappeared from your lips. “I’ve seen looks like the one on your face plenty before. It’s a fuckin’ big gash, I’d be worried if you didn’t show any signs of pain.”

You couldn’t come up with any snarky remarks and just blinked when Joel sent you a quick, if not a bit self-conscious, smile, like he wasn’t used to reassuring someone else.

“The fact that you let your tears flow doesn’t make you any weaker,” he said even quieter than before. You still weren’t answering and he cleared his throat, apparently growing uncomfortable with your silence, then grabbed the bottle of alcohol. “I’m gonna pour some of that shit over your wound again. It’ll sting a bit.”

You observed without a word how he cleansed the gash and started to wind the bandage around your thigh.

Weirdly enough, you also noticed that you couldn’t stop glancing at his lips.

*****

2. bill and frank’s

“No. I said no, come back here!”

Giggles erupted from you as Joel tried (and failed) to grab you when you jumped over the couch. He sighed deeply as you made eye contact with him and, with a provocative smile, drank up the rest of the bottle before putting it down on the nearby table. The man looked so disappointed and done with you, it only made you laugh louder in your drunken state.

You two were staying for a couple of days at Bill and Frank’s heavenly place, which you looked forward to for weeks now. Originally Tess was supposed to go with you but there was a last-minute change of plans, and you made the journey alone with Joel. Not counting a few infected you stumbled upon on your way here, your venture was quite nice and after a delightful dinner with your hosts, you sneaked into Joel’s room with the bottle of wine Frank gave you and the stuff you smuggled yourself.

Joel didn’t seem to be having as much fun as you, though.

“I’m never drinkin’ with you again,” he muttered, sitting heavily on the couch with a grunt. You faked a pout, leaning over his head upside down and almost losing your balance.

“You’re grouchy because the stuff you brought tasted like shit.”

“And yet you drank most of it.”

“I didn’t,” you slurred, waltzing round the couch and grinning. “I’m feelin’ great.”

“Be careful or you’ll pick up my accent you so like pokin’ fun of.”

You snorted and flopped on the seat next to him. “Mhm, m’feelin’ fine and dandy,” you grumbled in the deepest voice you could make, ridiculously imitating his Texas drawl. “Yee-haw.”

“You’re the fuckin’ worst,” sighed Joel with exasperation but you could see a crooked smile tugging on his lips. You beamed and plopped down, laying your head on his lap. He peeked at you with his brows raised. “What are you doin’ now, you little devil?”

“Just resting,” you answered. The lamp behind Joel was blinding you with its light, so you covered your eyes with your hand to shield them. “Is that uncomfy for you? Do you want me to get up?”

“Nah. You can stay for a minute.”

As if wanting to make sure you won’t try to stand up, he laid his hand on your hair, brushing some of it to the back. You hummed and shivered when he gently scratched one specific spot on your scalp, and instinctively tilted your head, chasing his touch.

Joel snorted.

“You look like a goddamn cat.”

“Shut up,” you murmured in response, a small smile adoring your face. “It feels nice.”

You opened your eyes and once again shielded them from the lamp. Joel moved his head slightly to the side to block out the bothersome stimulus, causing you to giggle again.

“It looks like you have a halo ’round your head.” You lifted your arm and made a circle, brushing the side of his face when your hand plopped back down limply on your stomach. The older man huffed a smile, looking away to glance around the room.

“I’ll be really surprised if you remember anythin’ of what you’re sayin’ tomorrow.”

“Gimme a break,” you grumbled with a smile, not taking your eyes off him. Your hand raised itself to his face again, as if on its own accord, and brushed lightly the corner of his mouth and the stubble on his cheek. “It looks pretty.”

His brown irises flickered to you before he averted his gaze. With a hum you withdrew your hand and closed your eyes, your mind getting woozy from alcohol and tiredness.

Joel’s fingers were still running through your hair gently and you really hoped you’d remember it in the morning.

*****

3. road, somewhere in missouri

You had no idea how long you had been driving.

Ellie was asleep in the back seat and Joel was getting some well-deserved shut-eye after you volunteered to sit behind the wheel several hours ago. The clock on the dashboard was showing 4:07 and you planned on driving until the sun started to rise, then switching places with Joel.

That is, if you manage to stay awake.

You tried to drink some of the coffee Joel prepared beforehand to wake yourself up but it tasted horrible, leaving a too bitter taste on your tongue. Once you catched yourself closing your eyes for a second longer than intended and the car started to veer off course before you corrected it.

Yes, you were aware driving in this kind of state was extremely stupid, but you knew Joel was anxious to find his brother and drop Ellie off with the Fireflies as soon as possible. And you knew that if you wake him up he’ll insist on driving for the rest of the way himself, ignoring his own needs and exhaustion.

You risked a look to the side at his sleeping form. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his head propped against the headrest. Honestly, it looked like the man was just pretending to nap – his body seemed uptight, as if he was ready to spring into action at any second.

And he looked beautiful with his face bathed in the gray light of early morning. Like a painting you’d gladly admire for hours.

You sighed and cracked your neck, focusing on the road ahead of you. Several more hours to go. There was a gas tank in the back of the car, so you didn’t have to worry about that, and if you remembered correctly the map you and Joel studied earlier, you should get close to some bigger city in the late afternoon. Joel wanted to take the side roads and you agreed, but your supplies… Did you have enough of them? And what was the name of that city again…?

A hand grabbed the wheel and gently straightened the course when without you noticing the car started to veer too much to the left again.

You emerged from your reverie immediately and looked to the right at Joel who was now wide awake.

“You alright?” he asked with concern, and his voice had this enticing, raspy drawl to it that told you he really dozed off for a while.

“I’m so sorry,” you said quickly but quietly, not wanting to wake Ellie up. “I’m fine, promise.”

He eyed the tiredness on your face and the tight grip you had on the wheel.

“If you need to get some rest–”

“No, no, no. I can go on. Sorry you had to wake up.”

Joel grunted and stretched in the small space in the front seat and you tried really hard not to stare at how he craned his neck or at the way his muscles tensed, or at the strip of his skin revealed when his shirt rolled up…

“Pull over.”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “No. I told you I’m fine.”

“C’mon, darlin’, don’t make me wrestle with you in a movin’ vehicle.”

Either he had a clue about what this nickname was doing to you, or he was still half-asleep and it simply slipped out; but whether it was intentional or not, you couldn’t dream of opposing him now and with a defeated sigh (and burning neck) you pulled over, slowly bringing the car to a halt. You glanced backwards, but miraculously Ellie hadn’t woken up yet.

Joel looked you over with concern and you shut your eyes, laying your forehead on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. “But I really can keep going, at least until the sun goes up.”

“We’re switchin’,” he just said, unfastening his seatbelt.

“Joel, no!” you hissed, but he ignored you and went around the hood of the car, stopping at your side and opening the door for you. “I’m not moving. You need to get some fucking rest.”

“I already did. Now scoot over.”

“No, I told you–”

“What’s going on? Are we there yet?”

Both of you looked back to see Ellie sitting up and rubbing her eyes. In a split second she went from half-awake to alert, and she eyed you and Joel suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she asked again.

“We’re switchin’ places,” Joel spoke up before you had a chance to answer the girl. “Our current driver is pretty tired.”

“I’m not!” you protested, glaring at him.

“You almost drove the car into a ditch.”

“Woah.” Ellie lifted her hands and puffed her cheeks in a nervous manner. “Just this time, I second Joel. I really don’t want to end up in a ditch, thank you very much.”

“You see?” Joel looked at you expectedly. “Outvoted.”

You squinted in the rearview mirror at the teen. “Traitor.”

Ellie just shrugged. With a heavy sigh you unfastened yourself and exited the car, but before you could go around it and take Joel’s previous place, he stuck his arm out, stopping you.

“Actually, Ellie, do you want to ride shotgun now?” he asked and nodded in your direction. “It’d do her good to lie down for a bit.”

“No,” you said firmly at the same time when Ellie agreed with an enthusiastic “hell yeah!”. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the pair. “You guys are in cahoots.”

“Boo-hoo,” Ellie had a mean smile on her face. “Get in the backseat and cry about it.”

“She’s so cheeky,” you murmured to Joel, trying to hide your smile, and by the look of it he had trouble doing that, too. You sighed and lifted your hands in surrender. “Alright, you two. You won.”

“Great.” Ellie grinned, then started walking off the street. “But give me a moment, dudes, I gotta pee,” she said before marching further into the field on the side of the road.

“Don’t go too far!” shouted Joel after her.

“Don’t drive off without me!”

With that Ellie disappeared behind a small hill and you turned back to your companion, scrunching your face at him. Joel shrugged and walked past you.

“C’mon. I’ll find you a blanket.”

You huffed but didn’t argue further, knowing nothing will change his mind. He could be stubborn as a mule sometimes.

You climbed into the backseat and waited for Joel to take out the blanket you took from Bill and Frank’s house from the back of the car. He opened the door next to your head and handed it over, waiting for you to unfurl it. You expected him to go take the driver’s seat right away, but he stayed in place. Only then you noticed the folded jacket he was holding in his hands.

He didn’t react at all to your raised eyebrows and questioning look, and just casually laid his jacket under your head to serve as a pillow. The gesture was so sweet it made you melt inside, and you just couldn’t stay mad at him.

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

“Only if you and Ellie aren’t too loud,” you teased, trying to settle down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “If you start arguing about some stupid shit again, I’m taking the wheel from you by force.”

He smirked and squatted next to your seat, looking down at you with an amused expression.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You had to be really fucking tired, because for a split second you thought that Joel has just flirted with you. You hid your face in his jacket to partially conceal your smile, but it only made your face hotter because the material smelled of him so much.

“I could. You’re lucky I’m deciding to show mercy.”

“How gracious of you. I’m honored.

“But we’re swapping places when I wake up,” you added, looking at him as sternly as you could. He raised his eyebrows with a half-smile when a yawn escaped you immediately after. “I’m serious, Joel.”

“Sure, darlin’.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead before standing up. “Now sleep.”

You could only stare into space as he carefully closed the door next to your head and walked around the vehicle with heavy steps. The spot on your head where his lips touched your skin was tingling and you inhaled deeply to calm yourself down before he entered the truck again and fastened the seatbelt.

Joel put some cassette into the tape deck and turned the volume down even before the song started to play.

You closed your eyes and wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, hiding the lower part of the face – and a blush spreading on your cheeks – under the cover.

*****

4. jackson

You looked out the window at the children pulling their sleds behind them and smiled at how happy and carefree they looked. Down the road you could just barely see the big Christmas tree in the square and for a moment it felt like the apocalypse had never happened.

“They’re pretty lucky to be growing up here,” you said quietly. Joel was closing and opening cabinets behind you, clearly looking for something.

“Not sure about it. But I guess it beats growin’ up in any of the QZ’s or Fedra’s barracks.”

After Joel’s sudden change of heart and Ellie’s confident decision that she’d rather travel with you both instead of Tommy, the younger Miller convinced his brother to stay one more day in Jackson. It was honestly a good idea because you doubted any of you three got any rest the previous night. You certainly didn’t, tossing and turning the entire time from worry.

Joel chuckled and the sound pulled you out of your thoughts.

“What did you find?” you asked. He was kneeling in front of one of the cabinets, holding a small box.

“Old cassettes. You want to listen to some music?”

“Sure.” You stood up with a smile. “It’ll be pretty atmospheric.”

Joel gave you a dirty look.

“I’m not putting on Christmas carols.”

“I don’t want to listen to Christmas carols. Find something good.”

He sighed and took out a carton box from the cabinet, and then started to rummage through it. “Alright, so what do you want?”

“You can choose. Pick something you think I’d like.” A thought struck you and you glanced around the living room, furrowing your brows. “Is there even any tape player in here or something like that?”

“Upstairs,” Joel mumbled absent-mindedly. “In Ellie’s room. We can go see if it works.”

Ellie was out exploring Jackson and you doubted she’ll be back very soon. You knelt down next to Joel, looking at him with a grin as he inspected the box, pulling out and reading some of the cassettes before putting them back down. You rested your chin on your hands.

“Just get anything,” you ushered after some time, to which he chuckled.

“You said to pick somethin’ you’d like. Gimme some time.”

“Do you think I’m that picky?”

“Of course you are.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t have to wait much longer before Joel stood up with a grunt and held out his hand to you. In the other one he held a white cassette.

“C’mon. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love this one.”

You took his hand with excitement and let yourself be pulled to your feet. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to listen to some music – well, maybe not as long, but you missed it regardless – that you felt a bubbly joy at the thought of hearing something new.

And more than that, something that Joel has picked specifically for you. Doesn’t matter that you had to ask him.

You went upstairs to the room that was currently Ellie’s bedroom and Joel bent down, inserting the cassette into the tape player. He looked over his shoulder at you with a small smile and you beamed right back.

A loud, scratchy sound rang out.

You winced and Joel furrowed his brows. He took the cassette out, checked the empty slot and the cassette itself, and then made sure the power was on.

The first notes started to play, but they sounded distorted, like a scratched record. Joel cursed and tried again, but there must’ve been something wrong with the device, because no matter what he did, the music didn’t play right.

He tried again and again, and finally you decided to put a stop to it. You placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Leave it, Joel. It’s okay.”

“Just my fuckin’ luck,” he muttered, not turning around. “Of course Tommy gave us a place without a working cassette player.”

“It’s okay,” you repeated. You wanted to say something like ’the song probably isn’t even worth fussing over’, but the words got stuck in your throat. He picked it for you to listen to, of course it was worth it. “Maybe I just wasn’t meant to hear it.”

The man worried his lip and you quickly averted your gaze. He straightened up and put his hands on his hips, sighing.

“Nonsense,” he answered, looking intently at the device like he wanted to get it to work by sheer willpower. “You wanted to hear it.”

“Well, I did.” You got embarrassed for whatever reason, not knowing what to say. “But there’s not really anything we can do about that. It’s no big deal.”

Joel’s jaw twitched and he turned to look at you thoughtfully. You offered him a lopsided smile, but he didn’t move a muscle and you could almost imagine small gears turning in his head when he had this expression on his face.

“You okay?” you asked with a stifled laugh.

“I… have an idea,” he said slowly, almost hesitantly. Then he focused his eyes on you again. “Just… trust me for a moment.”

Your gaze softened and you took a step closer to him.

“Joel, of course I trust you. I trust you with my life.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed but his brown irises haven’t left yours for even a second.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” you asked with a crooked smile, but he just shook his head.

“C’mon, close your eyes. And promise you won’t laugh.”

Confusion washed over you but you closed your eyes as requested. You heard Joel sighing and then he took your hand in his calloused and rough one, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your neck got way too hot but you tried not to tense or flinch in fear of making him back out.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” he repeated and you just now realized you haven’t answered him. He put his hand on your waist, very, very lightly, and your other hand was raised to shoulder height, cradled in his warm one.

“I swear I won’t,” you whispered, your heart beating so damn loud you were scared he was going to hear it with how close you two were.

Joel exhaled heavily and you felt his breath on your hair.

And then he started to hum quietly and sway you gently from side to side. You desperately tried to remain calm, but how were you supposed to do that when your body felt so hot and he was so close–

“I reached inside myself and found nothin’ there… to ease the pressure… of my ever-worrying mind, hmm…”

Joel’s voice was deep and harsh right in front of you, and it sounded more like he was purring than singing. You suspected he slowed down the pace of the song significantly to match his movements and your heart swelled with warmth and adoration. The smile on your face widened and you took a step to the left, then to the right, gradually engaging in your dance more and more. You wanted to make it less uncomfortable and awkward for him and it seemed to have worked a bit because the next lines were much more confident, and his voice steadier.

“All my power wasted ’way, fear the crazed and lonely looks the mirror’s sendin’ me these days, hmm…”

His hold on you tightened slightly and you held his hand a little more securely, unable to hold back a goofy smile on your face.

“Touch me… how can it be? Believe me… the sun always shines on TV.”

You were falling for him all over again and it was not fair that he made you promise to keep your eyes closed. Though if he didn’t, you’d probably end up doing something dumb.

Like kissing him.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Hold me… close to your heart. Touch me… Give all your love to me. To me…”

Did he just pull you closer or was it you that took a step forward? It was hard to tell without seeing where you step, but you suddenly were very aware of the material of his shirt under your chin and the smell of shampoo he used to wash his hair, the pressure of his hand on your lower back and his quiet, drawling voice right next to your ear.

You were positive you’re about to pass out.

And it felt blissful.

Joel kept humming the chorus of the song, his voice getting softer and lower with each word. You relished in the warmth of his embrace, begging any higher power that he won’t let go of you immediately once he stops singing.

He didn’t.

Instead you two kind of naturally came to a stop but neither of you moved, still standing chest to chest and breathing a bit shakily. Your palm – or maybe it was his – was sweaty, but you ignored the unpleasant feeling, wanting to stay like this as long as possible.

“The original is much more lively,” Joel spoke in a soft whisper after some time and you smiled lightly.

“Well, I really liked your version,” you answered just as quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimate atmosphere in the room. “Joel?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

A moment of silence.

“Yeah.”

You did so, but didn’t move your head, still keeping it on his shoulder and breathing in his scent. “Thank you for that,” you whispered and you felt him nodding.

“Anytime.”

His fingers crept a bit higher up your spine, but still his touch was so light and unsure.

You realized with a flicker of hope that he wasn’t pushing you away. He was pulling you closer.

Careful not to move too abruptly, you lifted your head and turned it to look him in the eyes. They were already on you, so very close, warm and hesitant, but also not showing any signs of discomfort or regret.

“Joel?” you asked again and you were so close to each other, it came out less as a question and more like a quiet breath. He heard it, though.

“Yeah?”

“Can I–”

Suddenly the door downstairs slammed extremely loudly and you both jumped when the noise broke the heavy silence.

“Hello! Is anybody here?!”

Ellie came back.

Both of you automatically took a step backwards, letting go of each other. Your face was scorching hot and you couldn’t force yourself to look at Joel. With a deep (hopefully unnoticed by the man standing right in front of you) breath, you quickly tried to get a grip on yourself when you heard Ellie running up the stairs.

“I was calling you, guys!” she panted and looked from you to the older man. “What’s up?”

“We…” Joel cleared his throat. “Tried to put some music on. The darn thing isn’t workin’, though.”

“Ugh, that’s a bummer.” Ellie turned to you and tilted her head. “Were you out, too? Your face is all red and shit.”

Even if it wasn’t before, it certainly was now. All attention shifted to you in a second and it made you want to cry.

“Yes,” you uttered quickly, “and… I’m actually going out again. I wanted to ask Maria something.”

You didn’t wait for any of them to stop or question you further – you all but ran down the stairs and bolted outside without even taking a jacket or a hat.

Fuck…

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

*****

5. basement, somewhere in colorado

He was dying.

Joel was dying and there was nothing you could do to help him.

You tried your hardest, though, to take care of both him and Ellie. You went out hunting so she wouldn’t have to starve, you encouraged her to get as much rest as possible while you watched over the unconscious man during the night, and not once did you show any doubt that Joel will get better.

But you had a feeling she knew why you were so reluctant to stay behind while the girl took her turn looking for food. The truth was, you were starting to crack if you sat for too long at Joel’s side, letting the intrusive thoughts take root in your mind. You needed those moments outside, because they were the only ones when you let your tears flow.

So when it was only you and him in the basement, you spent this time brushing the hair out of his face and coaxing him to drink. You checked his wound every so often, trying to keep it as clean as possible. You held his hand, humming to him that one song he sang for you in Jackson, though you didn’t know the words.

It was painful, to just sit in place and be unable to do anything to help, but you tried not to break down. Not when both of them counted on you.

So you stayed strong, hoping it’ll all turn out alright.

But luck still wasn’t on your side.

The men Ellie encountered the day before were here now, looking for you and Joel, and hungry for blood. She told you all about her interaction with them and since yesterday you were ready for a fight in case they showed up, but somehow it still surprised you and made your heart hammer in your chest in fear.

There wasn’t anywhere you could run to, and Joel wasn’t even able to keep his eyes open, let alone walk. You didn’t really have any other options.

So there was only one thing you could do, and that was to protect those closest to you.

You quickly took your backpack and passed Ellie your gun, closing her fingers around the cold metal.

“I’ll barricade the door, but if anyone comes in here, you blast their skull open, you hear me?” you whispered urgently and the girl nodded. You took Joel’s rifle from the floor and hung it over your shoulder. “I’ll try to take them out and lead them away. I’ll be back.”

“You better come back,” Ellie muttered and you looked at her softly, nodding. Then your gaze involuntarily shifted to Joel.

You didn’t know how many people were outside – if there were three or four of them, you should be able to shoot most of them before they notice you. If you don’t miss, that is.

But if there were more…

Choking back a nervous sob, you knelt next to the mattress and took Joel’s head in your hands. His eyes were only half-open and his forehead covered in sweat. Your heart clenched painfully at how weak he looked.

Acting on impulse, you leaned down and softly kissed the place above the corner of his mouth.

“Wake up,” you said to him firmly, brushing his cheeks with your thumbs. “Please, Joel. Ellie and I need you.”

You knew you had to go. You had to go now and make sure those fuckers outside don’t find Ellie and him.

But you stayed just for a second longer to press your forehead to his.

“I love you,” you whispered, so quietly you barely heard yourself.

And then you pulled away and ran upstairs.

From then on it was all a blur. You managed to kill one of the men with a clean shot between his eyes, but the other one ducked out of the way when he noticed you. Turned out there were six of them – too many – and what’s worse, one of them came up behind you, forcing you to flee sooner than you’d planned.

It would probably be wiser to take the horse but you didn’t want to endanger the poor creature, so you ran on foot.

You didn’t get far. One of the men managed to shoot you in the leg, making you keel over onto the frozen ground with a scream of pain. You turned around and saw him lifting his gun again before another voice yelled that he wanted you alive.

No. No, no, you weren’t about to let them take you.

You crawled towards where your rifle lay in the snow but just before you could reach it, it was kicked away by a heavy boot which then dealt a severe blow to your stomach. You doubled over, wheezing and coughing for air. By the time you managed to somehow catch your breath, someone pressed their foot on the gunshot wound in your calf, forcing a scream of agony out of you.

“Now, stay calm. I don’t want to shoot you.”

You clutched at your leg, glaring up at the ginger man who you suspected was the same David Ellie has encountered.

The man grinned nastily at the state you were in, and you didn’t like his expression one bit. He must’ve noticed that you were ready to lunge at him at any moment because he swiftly lifted his gun to your head. You froze.

“Where is your friend and the girl?” he asked quietly. You sneered at him, baring your teeth.

“Fuck you. I ain’t telling you shit.”

“David, she killed Paul,” spat another, younger one, looking down at you with hatred. “If that bastard has already died, let’s at least kill his bitch.”

You tried to think of a way to get out of this situation, but both of the men had their guns pointed at you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough with the gunshot wound.

You tried to move slightly but David pressed his foot harder on your leg, causing more blood to flow from your wound and you cried out, the pain clouding your vision.

“Don’t try anything, sweetheart,” he murmured in a warning tone. “You might bleed out.”

Your eyes were full of hate and rage but you didn’t dare to move again just yet.

“Where are they?” David asked again and you huffed a humorless chuckle while trying not to show how much pain you were in.

“You know that it was me who killed that idiot?” you asked in the most mocking tone you could muster, in the meantime desperately thinking how the fuck you were going to get out of here, preferably alive. “And your friend over there.” You nodded in the direction of where the body of the man you shot was lying. “Which one of you stood next to him? Was it you?” you asked the younger man who shot you in the leg. “I hope I hadn’t splattered you too much with the remnants of his brain.”

“You little bitch,” the other man sneered, lifting his gun again despite David’s stern order to back off. “I’d love to see the face of your friend when I blast your–”

“Leave her alone, you fuckers!!”

All of you turned your heads and your stomach churned when you saw Ellie on the horse you borrowed from Tommy. More shots rang out in the air when she blindly fired at the two men standing above you, and then the rest of the strangers who emerged from between the trees.

“Alive!!” David yelled after his men when they started chasing Ellie who grabbed the reins and cantered in the opposite direction. Then the man turned back to you. “We will catch her. Then we will find your friend, and he’ll pay for his sins.”

You growled.

“I told you it wasn’t him who killed that man.” He shook his head and you fumed with anger. “You don’t think I’m capable of that?”

“Oh, I think you’re capable of a lot.” His stare slid down your body, from head to toe, and terror gripped your heart at the sadistic excitement in his eyes. “And I think you must really care about him if you’re ready to trade your life for his. Such loyalty is admirable, but your love is misplaced.”

The snow around you was getting more and more red and you really started to worry that the bullet might’ve hit an artery. David’s eyes shifted to your leg as well, and he hummed.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of in our community.”

“I don’t want to be any part of your fucked up sect.”

“You will. You just need a father to lead you to the right path.” He leaned over you in such a manner that it made your blood run cold. “I’ll teach you personally.”

Suddenly a shot echoed in the air and you heard a distant neighing of a horse. Your head automatically turned in the direction of the noise and David took advantage of your moment of distraction to strike your temple with his gun, thus knocking you unconscious.

*****

+1. silver lake

Joel woke up.

And he felt like he was made out of pure adrenaline and rage.

You weren’t with Ellie when he found her staggering through the snow, the face of the teen terrified and covered in blood. He comforted her as best as he could, relief and fear fighting inside him as he held the girl in his arms.

But she didn’t know where you were held. If you were even alive.

And that was a thought that Joel couldn’t bear. He wouldn’t even allow for the possibility that you were no longer…

He vaguely remembered you stroking his cheek with slow and delicate touches, and your humming while he was laying on the mildewed mattress in the basement. Maybe it wasn’t even a memory, but a dream – it was hard to tell in his delirious state.

But he was pretty sure he wasn’t hallucinating when he felt soft, cold lips right next to his and heard your voice – he knew it was your voice, he’d recognize it anywhere – whispering the words he never let himself hope you’d say to him.

Words he would be damned if he didn’t say back to you.

And that’s why he was merciless with the men he encountered on his way to you and Ellie. His own tiredness and pain piercing his abdomen didn’t matter – nothing mattered when you two weren’t with him, when he didn’t know if you were hurt or even still breathing. The desire to help and protect his girls numbed the pain in his stomach so much that he almost forgot he could barely stand just a few hours ago.

Once he found Ellie and took her to a safe location, he went back to look for you. He didn’t want to leave the girl alone, but she seemed terrified at the prospect of going back and through the buildings, so he left her his gun, promising to be right back.

One of the bastards Joel ran across on his way back was helpful enough (after being shot in both knees and having his forearm broken) to direct him to the place where you were supposedly being held – a small building hidden behind the still burning dining room.

No one else stood in his way when he cautiously reached the structure. He went in and started checking every single room, getting more and more anxious every time he found them empty. At one point he was ready to tear the walls apart and go back to see if there was anyone left alive who could tell him where you were – but then spotted a hidden, smaller metal door, which apparently led to the basement.

It wasn’t locked and Joel didn’t hear anything on the other side so he opened it slowly, quickly walking down the stairs and scanning the room for any enemies, but there were none. Half of the room was enclosed by a chain-link fence and the entry to the cage was slightly open.

And inside sat you, with a cloth around your eyes and hands tied above your head.

His knees almost gave way under him from relief when you perked up at the sound of his footsteps. You were alive. You were–

“If you fucking try to touch me again, I’ll break more than your stupid jaw!” you yelled out of the blue, starting to struggle and kick haphazardly, though the placement of your wrists was forcing you to stay in a sitting position. “You motherfucker, don’t come any closer!”

The fear and desperation in your voice broke Joel’s heart in an instant and made him stop dead in his tracks.

“It’s me,” he hurried to say, but his voice was weak and the next words got stuck in his throat when he saw your bloodied nose, bruises on your face and neck, as well as a dirty bandage tied around your calf with a seizable crimson stain on it.

He ushered inside, opening the door to the cell wide open with a loud scraping. You started panicking even more, cursing and kicking when he crouched next to you, intending to untie your hands.

“I said don’t fucking touch me! I’ll kill you!” you screamed and Joel actually had to back away a little to avoid getting kicked in the ribs.

“It’s me!” he said louder, but it was clear you didn’t hear him. In a quick movement he reached out, yanking the blindfold off your eyes, and put his hands on both sides of your face. “It’s me. Joel.”

In the first moment his touch made you recoil and the look of fury deepened on your face while you continued to scream bloody murder. Your eyes were so wild and terrified, Joel wanted nothing more than to pull you close to his chest and never let go.

“Look at me, baby. It’s alright,” he whispered soothingly, brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones like he vaguely remembered you doing when he was unconscious. “It’s me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Your eyes slowly started to focus on his face for the first time since he took the blindfold off, and Joel felt like something was tearing his chest apart at the sight of fear and disbelief on your face.

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he muttered in a strangled voice, trying not to show he was close to crying, too. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

A broken sob issued from your throat when you took in the sight of him, your eyes lingering on his face and stomach where the wound was.

“...Joel?”

“I’m here,” he said softly, quickly cutting the ropes binding you to the indent in the wall and wincing when he saw the red and purple marks around your wrists. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, not for you and not for him. Your body was trembling when he finally cut your hands free and without hesitation gathered you in his arms. It seemed like all the bottled up stress was pouring out of you now with the tears as you cried into his jacket and he held you tighter.

“J-Joel…”

“I know, babygirl,” he whispered into your hair, rocking you both back and forth slightly. You were clinging to him almost desperately and it pained him physically to see how scared you’ve been this whole time, but you were safe now, you were back with him and you were alive… “I know. I’m so sorry.”

You pulled away abruptly and looked over his shoulder, your face crumpling in despair when you saw no one there.

“They took Ellie, I don’t know where–”

“She’s safe,” he quickly assured you. “She got out and I found her just before comin’ here.”

You nodded with a sigh of relief, and he shifted his gaze to your calf, gently laying his hand just above the bandage.

“How’s your leg? Can you walk?”

“One of those fuckers shot me,” you murmured, not moving or attempting to stand up, which concerned Joel. “I didn’t really have a chance to see if I’ll be able to stand on my own but they sewed it up provisionally.” Your eyes flickered to his and you smiled softly, brushing your fingers over the back of his hand. “Not as well as you, though.” Then your smile disappeared and your hand grabbed his in a firm grip, like you wanted to make sure he was really here. “How are you, though? I was… Shit, I was so afraid I’d lose you.”

Joel could only stare at you, having no clue what to say.

He was not good at talking. He knew what he should do, though – he should examine your leg and make sure it was alright, he should go back to Ellie and get you two out of here, he should calm down his goddamn pounding heart so that he doesn’t pass out and cause you any more trouble.

But he couldn’t will his muscles to move. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t think about anything at all – not when you were sitting in front of him, looking at him with those tearful, gorgeous eyes of yours, holding his hand so tenderly but firmly, your touch so soothing, so familiar, and he remembered vaguely the same fingertips caressing his face.

And your voice, those words…

You said his name haltingly, but he didn’t register any of that, instead letting the overwhelming feelings of relief and fear, and – and adoration – take hold over his body, and he affectionately took your beautiful face in his hands.

Your eyes widened slightly but then these irises he dreamt about so often flickered to his lips and your own parted slightly, and that was all he needed before he leaned in and kissed you deeply.

There was a moment of hesitation on your part during which Joel began to worry that he didn’t read the situation right after all, but then you cupped his cheeks, too, and pressed yourself closer to him, letting him envelop your form in his arms with a quiet sigh.

It was better than he could have ever imagined. He could taste a hint of blood on your lips and hot, blinding rage surged through his veins at the thought of those bastards hurting you. His kiss turned harder and more desperate – he needed to make sure you were really here with him, he wanted to feel your every breath in his own lungs. You didn’t pull away, only tangling your fingers in his short hair, and the small noises you were making were driving Joel crazy with lust and relief. He felt dizzy, like he was going to faint again but he pushed through it, keeping his attention solely on you.

The second you two parted, even before you had a chance to catch your breath, the words started spilling out of his mouth fumblingly.

“Listen, I… I heard you,” he whispered, panting like he just ran a mile – and his heart certainly acted like he did. “M’pretty sure I wasn’t halucinatin’, but even if– doesn’t matter, I want… no, I need to tell you this, I…”

He exhaled nervously and shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you because he was damn sure he'd burst into flames if you looked at him like that again.

Fuck, he was really not good at this.

He cursed under his breath, missing a concerned look you gave him, and felt your hand covering his where it was still situated on your cheek. He knew that with this gesture you wanted to make it easier for him somehow, but it only caused his chest to get even warmer and tighter. “Joel, slow down–”

��I… I love you,” he finally choked out, softly brushing your cheekbones with his thumbs. And damn his old, faulty heart, he wanted to gaze into your eyes again, even if it was going to kill him, so that’s exactly what he did. “I loved you for so long, darlin’, and I got so fuckin’ scared that I won’t be able to tell you and, and it’s okay if I only imagined you saying that and you don’t feel that way, but I needed to tell you, I…”

All strength left him when he paused to draw a breath. His vision was becoming blurry and for a second he was certain he’s losing consciousness again, but it turned out they were only tears filling his eyes, blurring your form before him.

Which was even worse, somehow.

“I’m sorry.” He intended to sound reassuring and strong but it came out more like a broken whisper and he hated himself for feeling so weak and helpless when you and Ellie needed comfort and strength. He couldn’t help it though – all this time when he was looking for his girls the only things that kept him going were anger, terror and regret. Now there was relief, yes, but… he felt so very tired and old.

You turned your head slightly to plant a soft kiss on the inside of his palm, and Joel’s head snapped up. Tears were filling your eyes and he immediately scanned your body for other injuries, any signs of damage or pain, but then this gorgeous smile he so loved illuminated your face, and it put all of his anxieties at ease.

“You weren’t hallucinating,” you said quietly. “I did say that. And I love you, too, Joel.”

He couldn’t help a short, breathless and broken laugh that escaped him when he really heard you speaking those words, this time as clearly as day.

You sniffled and mirrored his smile, and in the next second Joel was kissing you again.

He knew you two had to go, had to get back to Ellie and leave this god-forsaken place, so he tried to be quick, but you – your smile, your touch, all of you – were so distracting and not eager to help him pull away in the slightest.

“I love you too, babygirl, love you so much.” He peppered your face with kisses, ignoring tears running down his cheeks and disappearing into his beard and under your hands. “So fuckin’ much… Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Because your old heart can’t handle it?” you teased and he huffed a laugh. A damn tease in every situation, he wanted to say, but before he had a chance to chide you, you pulled him in for another deep kiss. Joel decided you’re off the hook this time.

“Exactly, darlin’. Now hold onto my arm, we’re gonna see if you can stand, and then we’re goin’ back to Ellie.”

A hiss and a grunt of pain escaped you when he attempted to pull you to your feet, but you gritted your teeth and shook your head quickly when he froze, worry evident on his face. Turned out you could stand on your own and even slowly limp forward, but clearly had to push through intense pain to do so. Joel offered you his shoulder (against which his tired body protested immediately) but it made walking easier for you, so he sucked it up.

“I got you,” he whispered when he helped you up the stairs, keeping an arm around your waist for support. You whimpered every time you had to climb up a step, and Joel took hold of your hand, brushing his thumb over your skin lovingly. “That’s a good girl. Just a couple more.”

You didn’t let go of his hand even after these ‘couple more’ steps.

He kept his hand on your shoulder when you finally got reunited with Ellie and tears of relief spilled out of your eyes.

You tangled your fingers with his when the three of you were leaving this cursed, cruel place.

You all held each other when Ellie broke down and you both hugged her tightly, trying to make her feel safe again.

He hooked his little finger over yours, not wanting to drag you down when he started to lean on you, getting significantly weaker from how far he traveled and how hard he fought in the state he was in.

You grasped his hand again that night when you laid down next to him in his sleeping bag while Ellie was curled close to the two of you on Joel’s other side.

He didn’t let go when he leaned in to kiss you again, keeping his touch soft and gentle, and pulled you as close as he could, murmuring words of love and sweet promises into your hair.

Both of you knew you had a lot to talk about in the upcoming days – and probably even weeks. All three of you needed time to heal, physically as well as mentally.

But just for this moment, Joel couldn’t be happier and more relieved as it was slowly dawning on him that after this horrible, hellish nightmare, he had both of you right next to him, breathing and alive, and not chased by anyone for now. Two persons he loved in very different ways, but who were his entire world, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

As if reading his thoughts, you shifted slightly and kissed the edge of his jaw sleepily. His eyes closed, hiding the wetness in them.

He really couldn’t believe his luck.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #5+1 things #joel tlou #it took me SO LONG OMG #beary writes

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dtrghost · 11 months

Text

closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #fanfic #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw price #cod modern warfare

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

legally binded - 5

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 5: Strobe Lights and a Strong Drink

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Oof, what do you guys think? Thanks for reading and all the support guys!

Word Count: 6k+

Shit.

She kissed you.

She didn’t know why she kissed you.

Her fingers trembled even when you were gone minutes later. She brought the shaky fingers up to touch her burning lips, ignoring her sisters’ amused yet quizzical stares.

This whole week with you at her parents house has been nothing short of blissful. It was almost like domestic how you two acted around her family. Unspoken touches and longing stares.

She doesn’t know what to make of it.

All she knows is when she turned to wish you luck, her stomach churned at how delicately you were looking at her.

But before Jenna can think on it some more, her sisters are pulling her away to find a good spot for your performance; Mia, asking passersby which stage people had flocked to.

You didn’t tell her who you were performing with so they didn’t know where to go. Jenna had forgotten to ask.

“Do you know what time she’s going on stage?” Aliyah asks, holding the actress's hand firmly.

“No…” Jenna replied.

“Okay, do you at least know which stage?” Mia asked.

“No.”

“Do you guys ever talk or do you just share silent looks all day?” Mia sighs, fishing for her phone.

Jenna blushes. “I’ll text Link and ask.”

—

She’s buzzing with excitement but she’s impatient. It’s been two hours since you left her.

Jenna keeps sending texts asking when you are coming out to perform but of course, all you do is tease.

You: Stop being impatient, you’ll see soon ;)

Jenna isn’t sure if her suspicions are true but people around her are talking about a surprise guest for Metro Boomin’s set but she doesn’t remember having heard if you had worked with the producer before.

This could be the song you were working tirelessly over this last week.

“Do you think it’s Y/N?” Aliyah asks, peeking her head past the others in the crowd.

They can practically feel the excitement as the music pumps loudly through the gigantic stage.

“I’m not sure.” Jenna shouts, “This is a good set though!”

“Yeah!” Her sister agreed, pulling her to dance.

The cheers get louder when the song finishes, setting up to transition to the next one; the crowd is amped with anticipation.

“Everyone, give it up for The Weeknd!”

The crowd explodes as he comes out in an all-white jumpsuit and blacked-out sunglasses.

“Give it up for Metro Boomin, Coachella!” He praises as he comes out; talking to the crowd as they cheer audibly.

Jenna feels disappointed that it wasn’t you but is still excited when she sees the familiar face. Her sister Mia is practically jumping in her spot, he's one of her favourite artists.

“Jen, come on!” Mia laughs, tugging her closer to the stage, smiling largely.

She fights the urge to pull out her phone and text you again.

10 minutes go by of The Weeknd performing and Jenna’s enjoying herself; forgetting about you for a moment as she dances with her sisters; taking pictures and videos; allowing the music to consume her.

The Weeknd performs well and the crowd is evidently loving him.

Eventually, the music quiets down and the singer starts speaking.

“Can we play some new shit for a second, Coachella?” The crowd screams, excited to be the first to hear a new song. “Alright… then make some noise for Y/N motherfucking L/N.”

A synthesized deep reverberating beat drops and strobe lights flash blindingly in Jenna's eyes making her squint as you ascend through a cloud of thick fog from backstage.

Her jaw drops.

When Jenna gets clear sight of you, she knew you were a sight to behold. "Wow..."

The outfit you are wearing hung off your figure so well and so tight that Jenna wouldn’t be surprised if she was drooling. The heeled boots paired with it give you height accentuating the rest of your clothes well. You changed your hair and makeup and suddenly she understands why everyone she has spoken to has been enamoured by you.

“Woah…” Aliyah trails off, in awe and then turns to her sister with an amused smirk watching her sister's comically enormous round eyes as she continued to stare at you.

You looked like a superstar on that stage.

At first, she thought Link called you that as a joke but as she watched you walk to centre stage, she understood why.

You start singing and Jenna thinks she can pass away now. She can barely hear you as the crowd starts freaking out when seeing you. A sea of phones are immediately pulled out to capture the rare moment of you on stage. Jenna feels like the ground is shaking as the crowd gets ridiculously noisier the longer you sang the unfamiliar words along with the melody.

The beat drops again and Jenna watches as you bounce around on stage with the largest smile plastered on your face as you expertly performed with the other singer.

That's when Jenna felt it.

She knew it then.

Fuck.

She’s so screwed.

—

“Thank you so much for having me Coachella! It's been such a blast!” The crowd screamed thunderously prompting you to painfully clutch your in-ears when you hear just how deafening the audience was now that the backing track wasn't playing.

“Oh shit,” You wince.

You feel loved as you look at the vast and far ocean of blinding lights. This feeling never gets old. It’s been a while since you’ve been on stage; taking a step back to focus on film. When your good friend asked you to do a surprise performance, there was no way you were going to say no.

“You killed it!” Abel laughs in your ear, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks!” You say bashfully, leaning into the embrace.

“Everyone, give it up for the King of Coachella and Metro Boomin!” You praise, pulling away to yell into the mic, smiling wide and large.

For a hopeful moment, you scan the crowd, trying to find Jenna knowing she’s watching you somewhere.

Somehow, you spot her past the masses immediately.

Like a moth to a flame, you find her through the faceless crowd. Jenna had her hands cupped around her mouth as she cheered for you, trying to peek her head above the others. She drops her hands, landing back on the balls of her feet when you make eye contact and just smiled at you proudly.

As if time stops; you and her just stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

Longer than usual.

Longer than necessary for this PR relationship.

You have no doubts that videos of you and Jenna’s stare-off will be trending by tonight when you see people swinging their arms to pan between you and the other actress when they see your line of sight.

Briefly, you hear mutterings of people in the front row saying Jenna’s name and pointing; getting louder.

You blink, realizing where you were and wave goodbye one last time, steadily springing off stage — itching to get all the eyes off of you.

“That was great Y/N!” Link smiles, hugging you immediately. “Did you hear how loud the crowd was? Holy shit!”

“Thanks, Link… and yeah that was crazy.” You laughed appreciatively, the high of performing and having tens of thousands of eyes on you was starting its comedown. “Come on, I’m dying to get these boots off… no matter how pretty they are.”

“Don’t let your stylist hear that. She was excited about the boots — talked my ear off for 10 minutes.” He rolled his eyes, leading you to a tent backstage.

You follow him, ducking and nodding your head in appreciation as people cheer and compliment your performance.

“Yeah, she does that.” You chuckle.

“So what was that?” He asks lowly.

“What?”

“That kiss.” He looks at you sternly.

“Oh. I’m not sure. She just pulled me in.” You answer honestly, not really having the words to describe it yet.

You’ve been pulled left and right as you got ready for the performance.

“Can you sound anymore like a guy? Give me details how was it?” He leans in.

“I—I don’t know.”

“What do you mean I don’t know. She kissed you! That has to mean something! Maybe you two can finally say goodbye to all that weird silent pining you guys have going on.” He wrinkled his nose in memory of how often he caught the two of you staring into each other’s eyes or swinging hands as you walked in tandem.

The two of you are the very definition of oblivious.

“It’s not pining.”

“Call it whatever you want.”

You sigh, “I don’t really know what it means, Link. It’s just a kiss, it might not mean anything to her..”

“To her?” He takes special note.

You roll your eyes, swinging open the flap of the tent. “Yes for her.”

“What did it mean for you, then?” He turns his back to face the wall as you rapidly change.

“Why do you care so much? When was the last time you were on a date?” You huff; tugging the leather boots off your feet. “Did you try that dating app I told you about? I promise it won’t be like last time.”

“Don’t change the subject.” He growled deeply.

You’re no longer allowed to set him up on dates after that experience.

Huffing, you give in, “I’m not really sure what it meant to me, yet. It all happened so fast but… I don’t think I hated it.”

“Mhm.” You were like a toddler learning to walk. He had to slowly coax you as you learn to do things; like talk about your feelings. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Do? Nothing, why would I do something?”

“God, you’re dense.”

“Dude!” You throw your hands up.

He rolls his eyes, “Yes, you should do something! Did you not see the way she was looking at you?” He asks confused.

How did you not see how you two looked at each other?

“I–I, maybe. But I don’t wanna read into it.” You admit.

“That look from her seemed like it meant something, I don’t know.”

“What? No way.” You wave off, despite your heart darting wildly in your chest at his words.

You don't want to get your hopes up.

“Dude, I’m this close to knocking you out. I don’t care who you are.” You hear his loud puff echo in the room. “Why is the thought of being with Jenna so bad to you? You guys are practically acting like you’re together – you’ve been sharing a bed with the girl when there’s a whole mansion here in the Valley for you. You even started doing chores around her parent’s house Y/N... In all my years of knowing you, you have never even turned on the dishwasher at home. Be honest with yourself for once, really.”

“How do you know about the chores?” You peek your head out the divider, sending him a confused look.

“Jenna… who else. We talk, you know.” He says, back still facing you.

“What do you guys talk about?”

“None of your concern.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing out long and tired.

“We’re both so busy all the time, there’s no way it’ll work. Do you remember the last person I tried to date? I don’t want that with Jenna. ” Link shudders; he‘s had his fair share of close calls with filing a restraining order… given your history of flings and relationships.

“They’re all either psycho or it just ends up crashing in flames. I don’t want to have to show up at an award show and awkwardly smile at Jenna, pretending like I don’t know her. Or have a song or movie made about me.. again. I knew this PR stunt was bad news.” You shove your head in the t-shirt, feeling much more comfortable in the soft, loose fabric.

“Okay, you don't mean that. Don’t you think you’re –I don’t know–overthinking this a little? Also, I don’t see Jenna as the songwriting type. Maybe an essay about you?”

“Are you done?” You scoffed at the timing of his joke, stepping out from the wall divider. “Also, I think what I said was very reasonable.”

“I’m just saying, maybe she’s different.”

“I doubt it.” Much like your lyrics; you were just as much a pessimist.

But you know you’re lying — you felt instantly just how different she is from anyone you’ve ever met before.

You just didn’t know it could develop into… this.

Even through thousands of people, you managed to find her from that stage.

Jenna has an omnipotent pull on you that was getting harder to evade.

Something tells you the harder you try to yank away, the tighter the leash will start to feel.

You hated feeling suffocated.

“Y/N.” He says disapprovingly. “You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t know, maybe I do.” You try to appear indifferent; looking away from your best friend to find the matching sweater to your pants.

“Hey. I’m serious. Don’t shut yourself out from the potential of something good just because you’re a little scared.”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Link.” You grow annoyed.

When were you going to get some time for yourself? Without someone questioning you or bombarding you?

"Really? Cause it sounds to me like you're a little scared. I mean, think about it. How different would it be if you two actually dated? Everyone already thinks you're together and you've already been travelling apart for work. Not to mention... you two already act like a couple. It's crazy that you don't see it."

"What?" You look at him bewildered. "No, we don't. It's all for the cameras."

"Dude, it's me. Who are you trying to bullshit? Even Enrique won't stop talking about you two. And you know that guy’s around Jenna all the time.”

You scoff, "That—that doesn't mean anything."

"Please, " He holds a hand up, "I can't handle this today, I'm clocking out. Jenna can deal with you now." Then turns and walks out of the tent.

You huff, not wanting to think about his words.

You could play the fool and say that you have no idea what he's talking about. But you see the longing glances from the other actress.

You pretended not to notice her stares when you were around her family this past week. When her dad was complaining about his car not starting so you offered to look at it for him; a chance for you to get to know her dad a little more (if people asked you, his constant silence still kinda scared you). Or when you were the only one who could get her niece to calm down after fussing that one afternoon. Or when you played basketball with her brother Markus – trying desperately not to trash-talk and cuss out the young, competitive teen.

You get the point, she was always watching and you’re not dumb. You definitely see it; the little hairs on the back of your neck always stand when she’s near. Like your own version of Spidey-senses but with… Jenna. But that doesn't mean anything?

The two of you are at her parent’s house – she’s bound to be around.

Maybe she was drunk? You did order some cocktails throughout the night and she’d begged you for a couple of sips — even offering to hold it for you when you saw some friendly faces amidst the crowd. You may have indulged her. Hey, she's drank before, you know she can handle her alcohol.

Yeah, that has to be it right? Just the high of the crowd and the buzz of a strong drink.

You certainly felt like you needed one if you had to face Jenna soon.

Walking over to the bottle of tequila gifted to you by the producer’s team, you pop the top off and grab a shot glass. You pour yourself a generous shot and immediately down it, wincing at the burn it leaves in your throat.

You pour another one and another one before you feel like you've had enough — you're taking too long in here.

"Hey, there you are!" Jenna's voice exclaimed behind you after the sound of a tarp being pulled open.

You turn, surprised, still holding the shot glass and bottle of Don Julio 1942.

She perks a brow up, amused. "Celebrating alone?"

"We live alone—"

"We die alone. Orson Welles. Somebody to Love." She cuts in.

"Snob." You laugh then turned and grabbed another glass. "Want one? I won't tell."

"Yes." Jenna grinned and walked closer. "Why does no one ever talk about the second part of that quote?"

"There's a second part?" You wrinkled your nose in confusion.

"Yeah, only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone." Jenna quotes, grabbing the shot you held out for her.

"Oh... that's sweet I guess." You place the bottle down, turning to her; ignoring the added meaning behind her words.

"Yeah, it's one of my favourite quotes." Jenna clinks glasses with you.

"Salud." You raise the glass, tap the table and then take the shot heartily.

"You're a dork." Jenna coughs out, wincing at the burn.

"It's customary, darling." You reply teasingly, pulling out a posh English accent.

Jenna laughs a little too hard at your joke, crinkling her nose. "Is that the Little Women accent?"

You blink, taken aback. "You've seen my movie?"

Jenna reddens. "Yeah..." coughing, "like five times. It got you an Oscar nomination."

"That's cute." You grin, heart practically leaping out of your chest.

"I thought I was supposed to find you?" You remembered.

“You were taking too long… and there’s a steady crowd waiting to congratulate you outside but... I wanted to be the first one.” She looks down, kicking the carpet with her booted toe.

You grinned, “You liked it?”

She glanced up, laughing, “Liked it? You were amazing! The crowd was so loud, I definitely lost some of my hearing… I think my Mia and Aliyah might even want you as a sister instead.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Thank you, Jenna… but nah, I think the one they got is pretty cool too. They’re lucky to have you.”

She smiles up at you. And like earlier, you find yourself getting lost in her soft, kind eyes. You two have come a long way since that first meeting…

A part of you thinks, how it feels nice to have someone waiting for you backstage after a performance. Someone that doesn't work for you.

"Hey, so um— are we gonna talk about it?" You gain the courage to ask. Usually, you'd beat around the bush, hating confrontation. You're probably the first person to take a hike at the sign of an inconvenience. But this is Jenna.

Your Jenna.

She had kissed you.

Somethings you can brush off and forget, but not this. You find yourself not wanting to do so, so easily either. Something tells you that it's a memory that'll stick with you for a while, if not forever.

You could probably get Alzheimer's and you still won't forget you and Jenna under the strobe lights and rip-roaring crowd.

A tiny part of you held onto the hope that she’d say she meant it but you would never say that out loud.

"Yeah, I guess we should. Um— did you hate it?" She bit her lip in question.

"Did you?" You cowardly cop-out.

She rolls her eyes, smiling a bit but taking the bait and stepping closer to you. "Not really no..."

"Me too." You blurted and Jenna looks pleased.

"Good." Stepping closer. "Do you think, we can, I don’t know maybe do it again?" She whispers, looking up at you.

"Maybe..." You breathe out; arms stiff by your sides as she leans into your personal space.

"Maybe?" She cocks a coy brow, smirking. "You gonna make me work for it?"

She runs her fingers up your hands to your arm to your shoulder before resting them on your neck. A trail of goosebumps litters your skin.

You bit your lip, not missing how her eyes followed your movements. "I—uh,"

"What? Did I finally make you speechless?" She scrapes her nails against the back of your neck as her other hand rested on your stomach anchoring herself. "If I knew all it had to take was kissing you to shut you up I would've done it a long ti—"

You cut her gloating off, pushing your lips firmly to hers; tightly gripping her sheer button-down shirt. You pray a thousand blessings come to whoever bought this shirt for her because the way her skin burned through the fabric had you clutching her tighter than ever.

She groans against the sudden pressure but melts against you; pulling you down by the hand on your neck; kissing you back. Jenna tilts her head to the side, allowing you to slip your tongue past her lips and into her mouth.

When you traced your hand down her back relishing the way she shuddered under the touch — you made sure to stop and toy with the hook of her bra, just teasing before shamelessly moving your hand on her waist; lower than what should be considered modest for a second kiss.

But you don't care because Jenna is in your arms, kissing you back with the same intensity and for the first time, you feel all the tension between you and her fizzle away.

Like two teenagers who finally managed to find some time alone —she's slotting her leg in between yours making you flinch back.

"Mhmm. Jen not here." You mumble against her lips.

"Sorry, sorry. I got carried away." She blinks, unwrapping herself from you.

You laugh, tugging her closer. "I didn't say move."

Jenna gulps at your tone, feeling flushed. "Okay..."

"We should definitely talk about this though, right?" You sighed, leaning your head on top of hers. Jenna leans into your chest.

"Yeah probably. But this is nice too." She wraps her arms around your waist. She decides she likes the way the curves of your waist made a perfect mould for her arms to rest on.

She looks up, chin on your chest to link eyes. "Maybe it can wait until we're home? My sisters are still waiting outside..."

You look down at her, gently smiling. "Yeah, at home."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Okay." She pulls herself away; linking hands to tug you outside.

But she stops walking just before she can open the flap, promptly spinning on her toes and pulling you down to kiss you again. You only hear her satisfied sighs fanning against your skin.

Then she's pulling away too fast for your liking. "Now we can go."

You can't help but grin ear to ear at that.

—

“The Weeknd, really? I guessed him.” She grumbles from beside you as you two walk back to her sisters.

"I told you, he's a friend. We’re working on some of the soundtrack for his new HBO show." You chuckle, swinging your arm over her shoulder to link hands and tugging her close; wanting to feel closer to the young actress.

"The Idol?" She perks up, having heard about the show.

"Mhmm. Just the music." You hum and Jenna wants to laugh at how nonchalant you sound. How did you have time to do music, act and play your part in this PR relationship? "I composed the arrangement of the song."

"What? That's so cool, I actually want to get into composing." She mentions excitedly.

"You're gonna have to come by the studio sometime then, maybe I can show you a couple of things." You grin, eyes tinged with interest.

"Maybe... but don't change the subject, I guessed The Weeknd." She squeezes your hand, mulling over the idea.

"What do you want? A reward?" You chuckle.

"Yes." She mutters.

"Okay. What would you like? I have a lot to offer?" You say teasingly as you approach her sisters.

But Jenna doesn’t say anything, just takes her free hand and wraps it around your neck to pull you down; connecting your lips in another sensible kiss. You couldn’t fight the sigh that leaves your nose when you feel her tilt her head to the side; deepening the kiss.

Multiple bright flashes breaks your moment.

"Mia! Aliyah!" Jenna glares as they keep smiling.

"What?" Mia asks pretending to sound confused, "Oh shit, these are kinda cute, Jenna you might want this."

Jenna grumbles under her breath, embarrassed and tugged you along to stand a fair distance away from her sisters and closer to the stage.

"Send me those!" You manage to yell before she pulls you out of earshot.

"You two are a match made in heaven." She stands in front of you, leaning against your chest with your arms wrapped around her waist— like before you were pulled away from her to perform.

"Is that jealousy I hear, Ortega? I already told you, there's only one that I care enough to impress. You place your head over her shoulder tugging her close.

Not even the humid desert heat can keep you from wanting to feel closer to the other actress. Jenna seems to be just as comfortable as you so you don't pull away.

"Mhmm. Just checking." She traces a finger over the arm steadily wrapped around her midsection; sending shivers down your spine.

—

“A wedding dress?” You perk up, scanning yourself in the mirror. The Prada x Thom Browne custom gown made just for you made you feel like a Disney princess; hints of gothic design and golden tassels hung haphazardly on the train of dress as it’s still in its work-in-progress stage.

“Mhmm.” Your stylist mumbles, watching the fabric flow down your figure. “With its own flair, this is just the base of the dress. We’ll be adding more details to match the theme.”

“It’s stunning but why this?” You ask, twirling on the podium making the seamstress and tailor scowl beside you.

“To match Jenna, darling, what else for?” She says like you’re stupid — which in hindsight, you might be. But hey, it’s been a long week.

"What is she wearing?" You couldn't help but ask.

She snorts an obnoxious laugh, "Nice try sweetie. You'll see what she wears on the day. Thom would also kill me.”

"I thought you worked for me." You grumbled.

“Not for the Met — I don’t. I’ve seen that tiny girl’s wrath. I’ll deal with you over her.”

After Coachella weekend, there was no 'going home' and 'talking about it' with Jenna because you were already being pulled by Link in the other direction by the end of the night. Telling you about how you need to drive back to L.A. to pack for New York, once again.

Sometimes you felt like you were living most of your life on planes.

This meant you had to leave Jenna (and your dog with her) behind in California as you prepare for the annual fashion gala — where this year, you were tasked with the honour of co-hosting among a panel of other stars and Anna Wintour.

Jenna made sure to send you daily updates on their daily walks. You might have saved a couple of those photos… but as of the last few days, you hadn’t heard from the other actress.

"Now go, Link wants you back in your hotel room to go over your duties for the Met." She holds your hand as you step off the podium. The rest of your fashion team scattered off to their own respective corners; taking notes.

"Thank you, darling. It's always a pleasure to work with you." You say appreciatively.

"The pleasure is all mine." She kisses both of your cheeks before ushering you to a room to change.

—

“Hey, you gotta see this.” Link says as soon as you walk into your hotel suite.

“What is it now?” You ask, sliding in to see what he was looking at.

‘Y/N caught with cocaine? Rumours of a possible arrest. Will this be the end of this young star’s career?’

“How did they find out about the coke?” You grabbed the phone out of his hands, re-reading the article for a possible source.

“Not sure. But Liv has her suspicions. She said she’s looking into it and not to worry. Lawyers are saying they don’t have basis to charge you. Some people don’t believe it but you know, people love to stir shit up.” He watches your creased forward. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“How can I not worry about it? They’re drug allegations, lawyers are involved. Jake said that part wouldn’t get out to the press because they weren’t mine. He promised.” You give the phone back to him and start pacing the room.

“Hey, hey. Jake and Liv are handling it and Sarah is already in talks of tracking down whoever the possible source is.”

“Sarah… Sarah’s involved.” You mutter.

“Yeah? This kinda affects Jenna too.” He shrugs.

“Fuck. Fuck Jenna knows…” Your eyes widen in realization. Is this why she hasn’t reached out?

The two of you haven’t had time to talk these last few days. She’s been busy with her family and her Dior event while you’ve been on the East Coast prepping for the MET.

Does she know?

“I’m not sure. But if Sarah is involved. Good chances are… Jenna’s heard about it ‘cause she’s been warned.”

“Fuck.” You groan into your hands.

“Does Jenna not know?” Link asks confused.

“I don’t know what she knows, to be honest. I think she might have heard about the coke in the beginning but Jake and Liv made sure to keep that part under wraps. Only my drunken disorderly got out to the press. I–I’m not sure if Jenna ever knew it was true…”

“Y/N, it’s okay. It’s Jenna. I’m sure she’ll understand once you two get a chance to talk.” He places his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about that night, Jake. Especially not with her. It’s not exactly my best moment…”

“Well… I feel like she’s gonna have questions, regardless.” He walks off to the kitchen.

You head to your room to nap away the bad news you just got.

Met Gala duties can wait.

—

“You'll look great beside Jenna."

“Where is she, Enrique?” You tugged on the base of the dress.

“In her room.” He plainly answers, brushing down any wrinkles.

“Can I see her? I need to talk to her.”

His eyes flicker up to you, stopping his fretting. You don’t miss the slight judgment in his eyes. “No can do. She’s still getting ready.”

“I thought we were walking the carpet together?"

“You are. But you’ll see her when she’s done getting ready.”

“Are you mad at me or something?” You couldn’t help but ask, making your makeup artist stop for a moment.

He flicks a brow up, “It’s not my place to be mad at you. You should talk to Jenna.”

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“Like I said, just talk to her. She’ll be ready in a bit. Meet us on her floor.” Then he walks off

You sighed.

“You’re good to go, hun.” Your glam team confirms.

Eventually, your team trickles out one by one leaving you with a moment to yourself. Closing your eyes, you lean back against your chair and let out a heavy sigh.

You really wanted to talk to Jenna before tonight’s gala.

The news of your ‘possible arrest’ and ‘charges’ is abuzz all over the internet and social media.

It seems like whoever leaked that you were caught with coke made you public enemy number one on certain news outlets, once again.

But people on the internet have differing opinions. Some make fun of the situation, some defend you, and some are outright bashing you.

You’ve deactivated various social media’s, only keeping your Instagram to check on Jenna and her family’s posts from Coachella weekend, but your comments are limited.

The slew of hate you've been hit with from randoms is overwhelming despite you not caring about their thoughts on your life and the way you chose to live it.

There's only so much you can take when the first thing you read when you open social media is your name.

But, you’ve been so swamped with rehearsals and duties as a host that you couldn’t even greet the other actress when she landed. By the time you made it back to your hotel room in the dead of night, you didn’t feel you should disturb Jenna’s much-needed rest — knowing she’s a bit of an insomniac.

“Hey, I just got the okay. We’re good to go. We can meet Jenna.” Link pops his head through the door breaking you out of your thoughts.

You open your eyes, and sighed, taking your time to get up making Link raise his brow. “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

He reassures you once you stepped out of the door, holding the lavish train of your dress behind you.

“Yeah…” You mutter distantly, bunching your dress up with one hand to walk to the elevator.

When you make it to Jenna’s floor your hands begin to perspire. Enrique’s words from earlier ringing loudly in your ears, he definitely made it sound like Jenna was mad at you.

She was right, you do jump to conclusions.

You force yourself to take a calm, deep breath as you wait for her door to open; nervously tapping your high-heeled foot on the carpet.

When the door creaks open, your eyes are snapping to it immediately.

“Wow…” You do a double-take, with a wide-eyed goggle — taking a step back to admire her custom tuxedo dress.

“Thanks…” She tucks a hair behind her ear, glancing down shyly.

“Jenna… I mean it, you look— wow. I mean—“ You stutter embarrassingly.

In all your ears as a performer, you have never been so tongue-tied. What is this girl doing to you?

Even Enrique couldn’t help but laugh behind her, easing the tension as Jenna just flicks an amused brow at you, despite her reddening cheeks.

Clearing your throat, attempting to hide your unabashed staring, “Sorry, I just mean— you look beautiful.”

“Thank you… so do you.” She muttered gingerly.

“You like it? It’s a little on the nose.” It was your turn to blush as you glanced between your outfit and hers — a bride and groom. You try not to put too much meaning on the implication.

“It was my idea, actually.” She admitted.

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” She steps out, walking ahead of you. “It’ll be great for the press.”

That word was starting to grind your gears whenever it left her mouth.

You frowned as she walked further away.

"Can we talk? I need to tell you something." You slide in next to her.

Damn her and those heels.

"Not now, Y/N," Jenna whispers coldly, sparing you a warning look.

"It's important Jenn—"

"Y/N. I'm serious. Don't make things worse." She says with certainty that made you slightly afraid but knowing when to keep your mouth shut has never been your strong suit.

"You know... about the article." You trail off, unsure how you feel.

"Of course. I know, Y/N. God." She rolls her eyes and walks into the elevator.

You keep your head down and shove yourself into the opposite corner of the metal box; not wanting to be close to the other actress as you attempt to cool down.

She really believed a gossip article?

When the door opens, you couldn’t help but slide in beside her. “And you really believe it? Over me?”

She sighed, pulling you aside to a secluded corner and let both of your teams walk ahead; ignoring their prying eyes.

“I don’t know what to believe Y/N.”

You scoff, brows furrowing, “Me… believe me, Jenna.”

“How?” She says bluntly and you feel your heart drop at her tone and how sure she sounded about her accusations.

You know you’re the farthest from a saint. Did what you do warrant this reaction from her?

Maybe.

But you felt like you should still be able to explain your side.

She takes your stunned silence as a prompt to keep talking.

“This is what you do. You run away from things until it catches up to you. We’ve spent the last few months by each other sides and you never brought up the—“She takes a deep breath, glancing around wearily, “Coke… so you tell me Y/N, what should I believe? ‘Cause it feels like you haven’t been upfront with me.”

“Upfront with you–” You laugh resentfully.

“Guys, we gotta go!” Link yells before you can give in to your rising anger.

I guess you know where you stand with her.

“We—We’ll talk about it later,” Jenna sighs, hanging her head low as if she were tired.

Deep breath...

“Don’t bother. Point made."

“What was that?” Link asks, holding his elbow out for you to take as you walked away from the other actress.

“My answer.” You mumbled, bitterly.

Maybe she is just like the rest of them.

–

not even sorry about it…

(fun fact: my @ is a play-off of House of Balloons by The Weeknd)🫢

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#legally binded #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega

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delfiore · 8 months

Text

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wwc23 #spain wnt #man united women

1K notes · View notes

xllizs · 7 months

Text

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Ghostface! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

TAGS: Serial killer, corn maze, halloween, made up characters as readers friends, SMUT

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

You step out of your car into the eerie night, the grass brushing against your ankles. The cold air rushes past your body, making you shiver. You aren’t the biggest fan of this kind of stuff, but your friends wanted to go somewhere over the weekend, and since you miraculously finished all your work this week, you agreed.

“Wait, are you guys fine leaving around, like, 8:30?” your friend, Himari hushes.

“Yeah, sure, but I kind of wanted to stay longer,” you say back, starting to walk towards the gates.

“Okay, but like, I’m still kind of paranoid because of all that Ghostface shit going around. I just don’t want to take any chances, y’know?”

You turn around and face the car, where Himari and your other friend, Keishi, are standing.

“Oh my god, if you keep mentioning it, then it’s actually gonna happen. You’ll be fine,” Keishi assures her. You nod at Himari with a slight smile. He yanks Himari by her wrist as you push open the gates of the pumpkin patch.

The sun’s glow reflects off of the field, making the lackluster grass look golden. The end of the sky fades into a deep saffron. There are a lot of people, but it isn’t too loud. You breathe in, take in the sight, and then exhale. After you pay for your tickets, you look back at your friends.

“Okay! So, what should we do first?” You ask, eyeing the seemingly endless rows of corn across from you. There’s an arch with a big sign on it that says Haunted Corn Maze at the beginning of the pathway.

“Ooh, we should do that!” Keishi exclaims, lightly jogging towards the entrance. You and Himari glance at each other before you follow suit.

At the entrance, there’s a wooden A-frame chalkboard with a handful of warnings and disclaimers. Keishi struts up to it, and begins to read.

“Warning: the Haunted Corn Maze is not for the faint of heart. Those who suffer from seizures, asthma, heart conditions, or any physical, mental, or respiratory conditions should not enter. Anyone who enters understands that there may be dangers or hazards– okay I’m not reading all of that. Let’s just go in, I didn’t see anything on their website about it being super scary anyways.”

The three of you start to walk down the path, but you aren’t aware of the critical mistake you’ve all just made.

At the bottom of the chalkboard is written in bold letters: On October 1, 2, and 3, The Haunted Corn Maze will be closed from 7:30-11:00 PM for maintenance.

It’s 7:04, but you sure as hell won’t be leaving for a while.

…

You, Keishi, and Himari, have been walking for a good 20 minutes, running into a few scare actors. It’s gotten darker now, making it harder to stay together. The noise of fake chainsaws not only irritate you, but sometimes drown out the sound of your friends’ voices. As you’re trying to get through the maze, an announcement airs over the speakers.

“Greetings, visitors! We hope you’re having a spooktastic time, this is just a reminder that the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Again, the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Thank you for your cooperation, and we hope you have a good rest of your evening!”

Oh, shit.

“...You have got to be fucking joking,” Himari says in a stern voice. You all stare at each other, then start desperately trying to find a solution.

“Should we call for help… I swear to god I didn’t know… oh my god… are we really stuck… just finish the maze…”

You all agree that you should just try to find the exit as fast as you can, and if you can’t then at least help will find you. You and your friends start running slowly down the path, panting. It’s gonna take a fucking while for help to arrive, and you don’t want any random people trying to scare you in this anxious state–

Oh. Speak of the devil.

As you turn the corner, you see someone wearing a black robe holding a prop knife. It’s weird, they’re just facing the end of the aisle, which is a dead end. You groan loudly, realizing you have to go back, when the person turns around. The turn is curiously slow. Now, you can see they’re wearing a mask, a Ghostface mask.

“Hah, Himari, you were right, there is a serial killer,” you sneer. You squint at the figure, trying to inspect them a bit harder, but they start to move their arm, raising the knife, and–

“Oh my fucking god, it’s an actual serial killer!” Himari screams. The knife barely flew past her.

“Himari, calm down, it’s just a prop… see–” You swear, trying to calm her down. Her arms squeeze around you as Keishi approaches the knife. His shaky hands try to cover his mouth, but he’s gawking.

“N-no, it’s real.” The air turns even colder. You feel sick, like you’re going to puke, but you feel so horribly bare inside. You’re gasping for air, but it feels suffocating somehow. You’d think that your fight or flight instincts would kick in with a situation like this, but you’re just frozen. No way. No fucking way is this real.

“Oh– oh my god, run!” Keishi wails, holding onto both you and Himari as you try to get away. Any color in Himari’s face has completely faded at this point, and Keishi looks so distraught, which hurts to see, comparing it to his usual demeanor. Do something, idiot. Anything, it doesn’t matter, just please do something. You throw yourself away from your friends and take a shaky breath.

“D-don’t,” you choke, “don’t get near my friends, bitch!” You sob, clawing pathetically at the hunting knife on the ground. You didn’t realize how scarily far the knife was thrown, until now. The figure takes a firm, sharp step.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!” Himari yells. You’re glad she’s still conscious.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know, just hurry!” You yell back. It’s true, you don’t know what you’re doing, but at least you’re trying to do something, right?

“Are you sure about this?!”

“Just go! I’ll keep him off for now, just get help, okay?” It’s hilarious, really– because you and your friends are all bawling your eyes out, how the hell are you gonna make it out of here?

Keishi and Himari look back at you before scurrying away frantically. The person in black takes another step towards you. Are you terrified? Probably. Do you think you can beat this guy who’s a foot taller than you? Probably not. Are you still going to try and protect your friends? Of course.

“How cute,” the man in black coos, his voice muffled by the mask. You’re both taking one step at a time, waiting for the other to act. You blink, and before you know it, he’s almost right in front of you. You hurl the knife at his torso, and then run as fast as you humanly can.

…

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been stuck in this shithole, but it’s definitely been a while; the fatigue is really starting to settle in now. Constantly running around while still trying to keep quiet is excruciatingly difficult, especially when you’re being hunted down by a serial killer. You think you’ve finally lost him. It’s completely dark out now, and you’ve finally accepted that nobody is going to come looking for you. I mean, they would have found you by now, right? You wonder where Himari and Keishi are. It would kind of defeat the whole point of this if they were still stuck in the maze too. You reach into your back pocket for your phone, but there’s nothing there. You reach into the other pocket, but there’s still nothing. Shit, did it fall out while you were running?–

“I feel bad for you, you’re so oblivious it’s almost charming.”

There he is.

In his left hand is the knife from earlier. It’s covered in blood. He must’ve pulled it out. In his right hand is your phone.

“W–what– how did–” You didn’t even realize that you had fallen backwards. Get off your ass, do some–

“Are these your little friends, sweetheart?” He shows you the– oh god– 28 missed calls from you and your friends’ group chat. You haven’t been able to get reception until now, how ridiculous. You don’t have time to mope though, you need to get away from this psycho.

“What do you want?” Your voice is strangled but still fierce. He cocks his head to the side, then looks back at the phone.

“Hm, they’re calling again,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You stare at him, terrified. How could he sound so normal about this? You start to get up, but then quickly realize it's a dead end. Fuck. He starts to walk towards you. You decide that if he comes at you, you'll try and escape from the side.

You run towards the open space on his left. His arm moves towards your neck, the bloody knife brushing against your collarbone.

“There's nowhere to go, doll.”

He pushes you down, quickly straddling you so you can't move.

“Why don’t we pick up the phone?” He questions, and you swear you can hear the grin in his voice. What a sly motherfucker. You throw your hands up, trying to get him away from you– not like it's gonna help, he's clearly built. He drops the phone to hold both of your arms together. The other hand quickly slides the knife up to your neck. “Answer the phone, and let your friends know you made it out safely, and that you're okay. Or I’ll slit your throat right now, got it?” His deep, scratchy voice shivers down your spine. You frantically nod your head yes, pleading for your life. “That's what I thought–” the phone rings. “Perfect. Now once I let go of your arms, don't fight back. You won't win.” You were too scared to, now. If you tried, who knows where the knife would end up.

He lets go of your arms, grabbing the phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker, holding it up between you two. It's still closer to you, and the mic side is facing you.

“Oh my god! You're alive!” Himari cries out with relief. You catch your breath.

“Yeah, I got out,” you say, trying to stabilize your shaky voice.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone? We were about to call the cops,” Keishi lectures you.

“I, uh– sorry, the reception was bad and then my phone died. I'm okay now,” you reassure them. You really wish you were.

“Alright good, stay safe, we love you!” Himari says in a loving tone.

‘Wait, guys–” they had already hung up, but you hadn't realized and kept speaking. “Please, he has me– please!” you scream out. You start sobbing, you're done for. Why did you do that?

“Oohh, you stupid bitch.” He throws your phone. The knife that was just held up to your neck is now in his pocket.

“No! No! Please! They didn't hear me!” You hiccup mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from sobbing. “I'm so sorry! Please, please! I don't wanna die! Please!” you're hysterical. His hand goes to your neck. Right now, he's just holding it.

“Would you shut the fuck up? Im not fucking killing you, yet,” he spits out at you.

His hand adjusts around your neck. For some reason he doesn't want to get rid of you. There's just something about you. He makes sure he puts pressure on the right spot, just to knock you out.

“No! No! I'm so sorry!” You shriek out. He starts to squeeze your neck, and you instinctively bring your hands up to try and take him off. He grips both of your hands again. You’re gasping for air. You're starting to feel funny. Your vision is blurry. You– you can't get any more air.

…

Cold. It’s a lot colder than before. Am I dead? Where am I?

Youre propped up on a chair. Your arms are behind you, tied together by something, whatever it is, it's cold, you assume it's handcuffs? Don't know. Surprisingly you can see.

What about your legs? Can you move them? No. you can't. They're stuck around the chairs legs.

You aren't able to talk, there's tape on your mouth.

Your visions still blurry, but you’re trying to decipher where you are. Its dark, maybe a basement?

Clearly its not your house, so whos is it-

Then, all the memories came flooding in of what happened before you blacked out.

Fuck.

You hear somebody walking down the stairs. This time, zero robe. Is this sick fuck seriously wearing a tanktop and sweatpants? Still that stupid ass mask. You notice the bandage near where you stabbed him before.

Your face is soaked in tears and you're breathing so loudly. Your heart beat is so loud. The silence breaks when you hear a deep chuckle.

'`Pretty girls awake, huh?” he mocks you. He walks toward you and crouches down. “Oh yeahh, cant talk, can you?..kay’ gimme a sec.”

Why is he talking to you like he didn't just kidnap you??

His hand approaches your face. You close your eyes. He gets a grip on the tape and rips it off fast. It comes off smoother due to your tears. You feel the light burning sensation and whimper. “Get the fuck away from me.” you quietly spoke.

He scoffs at you. “Nah. Don't worry. You'll be gone soon.” Why does he say it in an assuring tone? Does he expect you to feel better? “Huh???” you start panicking. This can't be happening. He gets up and walks behind you. You follow him with your head as he starts to unlock your cuffs. The tight, cold metal around your wrists is gone. “My knife is in my pocket. Dont fuck with me.” he tells you fiercely. You nod, if obeying him keeps you alive longer, you'll take it.

Youre free, he got your legs undone. His back is facing you, while he stands only a few feet away. This is your chance! Go!

You spring up and the second the chair creeked his heels turn and he pushes you towards the ground.

You crash on the cement floor. Your knees automatically ache. He gets on the ground and flips you on your back.

You are fighting back with everything you got. Moving your arms so he cant grab them. While he tries to keep your legs down, you knock off his mask. Holy fuck.

His raven hair thats not too messy is revealed. His face and gorgeous green eyes. How is a serial killer, so attractive?

His mouth curls up, you notice a scar on it as he does. He scoffs. Fuck, you are so done, now. Your mouth opens a little from eyeing his face up and down. “You fucking little bitch. Now I really gotta get rid of ya, huh?” he says with a chuckle, acting like it's some sick joke. No, no. you really are gonna die. “Please. Please.” His hand wraps around your neck to pick you up. He leans closer to you. Only a few inches away from your face. “How should I kill you? Hm?” his head leans to the side as he has a small grin.

Why are you finding the man that wants to kill you attractive?

“No please. Please. I just graduated college! I have a life to live for! Please! I have so much left to do before I’d even die. Please!” you sob out. Tears coming out again.

“Yeah?” he lowers his mouth to your ear, “Like what?” he questions.

Your eyes widen in disgust, he's seriously asking about your future?

You stammer, “Uh- I, are you serious?” it was scary to ask, but you didnt wanna piss him off.

“Yeah.” He moves his head and is staring deeply into your eyes, “Why don't you tell me things you haven't done yet, or what you're planning? Gotta know what you'll miss out on, once I kill you.” he snickers at you.

Your eyes widen in horror. That word, kill. You’re gonna die.

“Uh. I mean” you breathe out shakingly, “I guess get a steady job?..and, nevermind. Finally get a boyfriend,” you really didn't understand why you were honestly telling him this, “I don't know-”

“Nuh uh. Go back, you know you were gonna say something before that, doll.” he coos.

That nickname. Now that you've seen his face, and you hate to admit it, it did something to you.

“I wasn’t.” you gulp. You both knew it was a lie.

“You know I didn't believe that for one second.” He takes his knife out and you flinch, “don't worry, i ain't doing anything, yet.” he sneers. “So what was it? Your first kiss?” he starts fidgeting with his knife and his eyes light up, “Oohh, orrr.. are you still a virg-”

“No!” you cut him off. Obviously, that was what you were going to say, but there was no point in telling the man who's going to kill you that you are.

“Got ya!! Not very good at being secretive, hm?” he smirks.

He starts to eye you down, stopping where he straddled you. You take the chance to eye him down too. The way his shirt hugs his body. You gotta admit, he makes you wet. Your eyes run down to the tent in his pants. Is he hard?

“So, you just really dont wanna die a virgin?” he asks

Your cheeks light up in a pink shade. “Why does it matter?” you shoot a question back at him.

“Ehh, dunno. Personally I wouldnt mind a quick fuck, ‘specially with a pretty girl like you.” that nasty, but very attractive smirk, appears on his face again.

You break eye contact.

Was he attractive? Fuck yes. Would you fuck him in a heartbeat? Definitely. Isn't he planning to kill you? Yep.

“Tell ya what,” He does a swift move with the knife, “If you let me fuck you, we’ll both get something out of it. You’ll lose your virginity you are so worried about, and I’ll possibly spare your life if its good. Andd, hopefully I’ll get a good fuck. Deal?” He looks you up and down.

Fuck. You mean, you'd do anything to live. And if he wasn't your killer you would accept his offer right away.

“Will I actually live?” you wonder, for all you know he might just stab you mid fuck.

“Probably. Hopefully that wet cunt of yours is good.” he winks

“Fine. Will it hurt..?” you squint while asking, he chuckles, “ehh, you decide once you see my cock. But first, I want you to suck it. You bite and I slit your throat, ‘kay?”

You've never sucked cock. You can barely swallow a pill. You try to remember all those stupid things Himari told you once after she gave a few guys head.

You nod at him and he gets off of you. Knife in hand. You watch as he takes his sweatpants off, revealing the large bulge in his boxers. Then, he removes them. Your eyes widen. You've seen porn a few times, and you knew, this was big. He lets out a light laugh.

He sits on the chair you were on a few moments ago, queueing you to come towards him.

Your knees still hurt so badly, so as pathetic as it was, you crawl towards him.

As you get between his legs, you get on your knees and wrap your hand around his cock.

You start to stroke it up and down, spitting on it to help you lube it up. Not sure what to do, you kiss the tip, letting go with a pop noise. Circling his tip with your tongue, he grabs a handful of your hair with his hand gripping it. “That's good. Better start sucking it.” he pants out. His dick spilling with a little of precum still.

You let more spit dangle out of your mouth onto his dick and put your mouth on it. Starting to slide farther down his dick until you gag, you were gonna move back up until he pushes you down and starts bobbing your head up and down. Tears start to brickle out of your eyes and stream down your face. Remembering, you take your and stroke the part that isn't in your mouth. You play with his balls a little, hopefully not doing anything wrong. You stare up into his eyes as they fill with tears from gagging.

“Fuck, youre a fuckin’ slut arent you? You know how to work that mouth.” he grunts

You start stroking more and he loosens his grip on your hair as you start to bob your head past you limit by yourself. “I’m gonna cum. And it's going in your mouth.” and when he says that, you swear you almost heard a whimper. You rest your hands on his knees, your head moves up and you circle his tip with your tongue one last time and put it far down your throat again.

His dick twitches as he unleashes a load inside your throat. Without a single thought, you move your head away and swallow it. Why did you enjoy it? “Haha, swallowed it like it was nothing. This really your first time?” he breathes out, trying to get down from his high. His dick is still hard.

“That was good. Can't make any promises on your life though till I fuck that cunt.” he has a smirk on his face.

You hated how badly you wanted to have this man fuck you.

He stands up avoiding hitting you as you're still kneeled in front of the chair. You look to the side as if offers a hand to help you up. You question whether or not he's actually gonna help you up, but you take the chance and you're standing up.

Once you're standing up you barely have a second to look up at his eyes staring into yours before he roughly pushes you against the wall. He pins you down, cupping your face and roughly kissing you. He forces his tongue into your mouth as one of his hands start to run down to your boob, circling around your nipple.

He bites your lip and sucks on it before he releases and his lips move back a little, a string of salvia following him. He quickly moves down to your neck, you whimper as he bites down then quickly sucking on it. You try to contain you moans but between him playing with your nipple and sucking on your neck, you couldn't.

He takes his knife and cuts down the middle of your shirt quickly revealing your bra.

He rips off the rest of it and undoes your bra, letting your boobs fall out.

He removes his mouth from your neck and starts to suck on your sensitive nipple while his other hand rubs the other one.

“Fuck~” you moan out. His low breathless chuckle vibrates against your nipple which makes you squirm more. You don't want this to end. You bring your hand to his cock, starting to jerk him off, you move up and down a few times until he unhooks his mouth from your boob and starts to take your pants off, ripping your panties off with them.

He exams your panties, “Fuckin’ wet, huh?” He throws them to the ground and plays with your clit but soonly he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist, letting you lean against the wall.

He slides his cock up and down gathering your slick to help it go in easier, smirking when you shiver every time your clit and his tip make contact.

“Please-mmmph. Please be careful, I've never,” you try speaking but he pushes his tip in slightly, “Yeah, yeah. Your first fucking time or what not. Does it look like I give two shits?” he thrusts all of it in in one go. You scream out in pleasure and pain. The burn. Hes so deep, you swear you practically feel him in your stomach. Holy shit.

“Fuuuuckkkkk..you're sucking me in so good.” he groans and his eye roll back as he throws his head back. He waits a few seconds until he starts thrusting in at a slightly fast pace. “Mmpp..- feels soo good!” you moan out unable to hold it back. The pain you felt before is totally gone.

You've tried to touch yourself before, but you could never reach where he's reaching right now. So many spots you never knew would feel good. He dick kept hitting that exact spot that made you see stars each time. “Godd, you're so fuckin’ tight. You gotta stop squeezing me like that, doll. You'll make me never wanna get out.” he manages to get out between breaths.

He picks his pace up making your tits jiggle at the same time. As he thrust in, he pushes you into a powerful kiss and forces his tongue in, smashing into yours. He comes out of your mouth slightly and sucks on your lip, leaving a ticklish feeling, but it doesn't last long as bites down on it causing you to whimper and clench around him. “Hm? You liked that huh?” he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, raven hair strands sticking to his forehead. His eyes were so beautiful to look at, they were a beautiful green shade.

He continues thrusting but goes harder, deeper hitting that same spot over and over again. You start to clench more as he quickened his pace again. You couldn't grasp how he had so much stamina.

“I-i…fuckk.. Please. harder. “ You knew you were close to cumming. “So close..mmppp!” you cry out. “Shiitt. Me too.” he grunts, starting to somehow go harder then he was. The sound of your body's colliding echoing throughout the room, both of your moans syncing with his thrusts. He goes harder, you were seeing stars. You couldn't believe you were losing your virginity to the man who wanted to kill you, the man who is the serial killer, Ghostface. “Cum-ughhhfuck.. Cumming!!” you scream out, your cum gushing around his cock. He continues thrusting as your orgasm, until only a few seconds later he cums inside of you.

You both are coming down from your high, catching your breath. “Was it good? Am I gonna live? Please.” you question.

“Huh? Yeah. That was really fucking good. You'll live, but I want you around for a while with me."

written by szillx (me) and @ems-interlude !!

TAGLIST: (if you want to be added, check kinktober masterlist for the form!) @slutforfictionalman @queendessi24 @tojishugetiddies @thebestgirlever2 @getosho3cakes @hotvillianapologist @taxevadingblob

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bamsara · 16 days

Text

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

#sara shush

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gigabyte-flare · 11 months

Text

There's No Escape (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: You find out that dedication pays off as you struggle with conflicting feelings for your clearly traumatized captor.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.4k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging, tokophobia, Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: I appreciate everyone's patience while I worked to get this one out. Hopefully it's worth the wait, enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You were in heaven.

Or… at least as close to heaven as you could get in your current predicament.

You soak yourself in the master bathroom tub, something Leon let you do if you were good, it felt so good on your sore muscles first thing in the morning. You sit there, your eyes closed; it was one of those part bathtub, part jacuzzi things that probably cost Leon a fortune. It was huge, you figured it could fit at least four people.

The bathroom itself had a modern aesthetic. There was the tub, across from that was a stand up shower, completely enclosed in glass with a rainfall shower head. The sink and vanity were behind you in front of the door heading into the master bedroom. The best part though? The floor to ceiling window that overlooked the vast forest. The sun shone through the morning mist and trees, scattering god rays everywhere. You had to give credit for that; Leon had great taste in architecture.

Your mind wanders as you open your eyes to enjoy the view of the forest. How long have you been here? Weeks? Months? You had tried to keep track but found it next to impossible. All the days seemed to blend together, your days made up of either Leon being attached to your hip or him ‘going into town’ (whatever that means) for work while you stayed there; you liked these days to yourself the most. In the evenings Leon would fuck you, his desire to get you pregnant was seemingly insatiable; hence why you were almost always sore in the morning.

It was impossible to fight him when he felt so fucking good, fucking asshole.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when you hear the bathroom door open.

“Alright, babygirl, tub time is over, time to have breakfast.”

You inwardly groan, opening your eyes and glaring at Leon.

“Don’t be like that, you don’t want Daddy to put you in timeout again, do you?”

You let out a sigh as you start to climb out, however, Leon scoops you up into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom so you could get dressed.

“Don’t want you slipping and falling on that wet tile. I can’t have my princess hurting herself, can I?”

In any other situation, you think this gesture would be adorable as hell, but this is not any other situation due to the fact that Leon is fucking nuts. He sets you down onto the bed before opening up the closet to pick out your outfit. One of his favorite things to do was to dress you up like you were his personal doll; this started within the past week.

It’s like the more and more time you are trapped in this house with him, the weirder he gets.

“Here we are!” He suddenly exclaims, pulling out a flowy, short summer dress from the closet.

He walks over to you, you have seated yourself at the end of the bed with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Move your arms, babygirl,” Leon commands, his voice having a hint of annoyance.

Letting out a sigh, you lift your arms up over your head and Leon slips the dress onto you. When he gets the dress fitted onto you, he takes a step back as if he’s admiring a piece of artwork.

“Such a pretty doll you are. What do you say to Daddy for dressing you up so nice?”

You look away from him, once again wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Leon snarls.

You immediately look back at him, “thank you, Daddy…”

His expression immediately softens, “you’re welcome baby,” he pries one of your arms away from you, grasping your hand, “let’s go get you some breakfast, hm?”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The sound of a saw can be heard coming from a small shed on Leon’s property. Inside, Leon was diligently working, taking the piece of wood he had just cut and bringing it over to his project he was working on, a crib.

Leon knew something you didn’t, you had been asleep when he was able to draw some blood from you with a small needle and bring that sample with him to work one day. He gave it to the lab techs to test, you asked them to see if they could tell if you were pregnant, telling them that he wanted to surprise you with the good news. It took a couple days, but they let him know in an email that you were, in fact, pregnant with his child.

It took everything in him not to immediately tell you, so he took that energy and spent it on building the crib. In the shed, he had several monitors that showed the cameras inside the house so that he could keep an eye on you while he worked. You were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap, that was until he watched you turn onto your back, dipping one of your hands in between your legs.

He watched in awe as you pleasured yourself. He had read that sometimes a woman’s sex drive will skyrocket when they’re pregnant, thankfully that seems to be true for you. He continues to work on the crib, stopping to look at the camera feed in the bedroom occasionally. The picture was grainy, but he could tell your fingers were buried inside you and you appeared to be saying his name. This only served to motivate him to get this crib done.

What a good girl.

At some point, he unconsciously stops, staring into the camera feed as you’re still fingering yourself, a solid 45 minutes has passed by at least. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, eventually finding himself digging his hardening cock out of his pants to get himself off from watching you. After a few minutes of this, he tucks his throbbing cock back into his pants and makes his way into the house

As soon as he opens the front door, he’s immediately greeted by the sound of your animalistic moans coming from the bedroom. As he stalks through the house, he begins undoing his belt and practically ripping off his own pants and underwear. As he steps through the threshold into the bedroom now naked from the waist down, he sees you still laying on the bed, fingers buried into you with one hand while the other is rubbing circles into your swollen clit. You sit up slightly to look at Leon, tears streaming down your face.

He wastes no time pulling off his shirt and climbing on top of you, his lips sealing over yours as he buried his cock deep inside your crying cunt. His thrusts are hungry and determined, causing you to practically scream his name. He feels your nails claw into his back. He buries his face into neck to mark you with loving bruises as his cock continues its relentless assault on your pussy.

You let out an ear piercing scream as you cum all over his cock, drenching him in your juices as you continue to claw into his back, your nails drawing blood. Letting out a low growl, Leon pushes himself as deep as he could possibly go, shooting his load into you, coating your pussy walls pure white. Propping himself up by his arms, he looks down at you, still buried inside you. He’s breathing heavily, his skin coated in sweat.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

On one hand, you were so pissed at yourself for enjoying every second of that, on the other, you were so thankful Leon had come in to finally give you your release. You had no clue what had come over you, all of a sudden you were blindsided by an insatiable hunger that no amount of fingering yourself and clit rubbing was going to satisfy, you needed something that hit deeper.

You and Leon look at each other, his arms caging you beneath him. Eventually he leans down, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead before he finally pulls out of you. A rush of his cum leaks out of you. Pulling your dress down, you sit up and sit on the end of the bed as you watch Leon retrieve his discarded shirt, putting it back on before walking out of the bedroom; you assume his pants and boxers are out there somewhere. You stand up, immediately feeling his release drip down your legs, a painful reminder of your lack of willpower against Leon.

You follow Leon out of the bedroom, watching as he gets his boxers and pants back on. He looks over at you, smiling.

“Sorry for bursting in like that, you looked like you needed some help on the cameras and I just couldn’t resist.”

You swallow hard, “it’s ok, Daddy, I’m thankful you came in when you did…”

Admitting that made you sick to your stomach, you wrap your arms around yourself again, hugging yourself gently.

“Put some shoes on and come with me to the work shed, I have something to show you that I’ve been working on for you.”

There’s a shoe rack over by the front door, you see a pair of your sandals along with pairs of boots and sneakers, probably all Leon’s. You walk over, grabbing the sandals and putting them on.

He gives you a dark look, “now, don’t get any ideas when we’re outside. I’m trusting you. You need to stay next to me at all times outside, understood?”

You stand next to him at the front door, giving him a slight nod before he opens the door. As both of you step outside, you inhale deeply, taking in the calming smell of the forest. When was the last time you were outside? You truly couldn’t recall. The shed was a ways away from the main house, you follow Leon on a well beaten path away from the house. Before long, you see the shed, which honestly was the size of a small house. The door to the shed was wide open, you assume Leon had left it open while he was rushing to get back to the house, to get to you.

You step inside and you quickly realize the shed actually was a small house. The room you were in probably used to be a living room however now it had various things scattered about, mostly tools and other stuff used for building things. You follow him into what used to be the kitchen, the tile floor covered in sawdust. There was a workbench in the middle with a table saw and Leon had removed the doors off the cabinets for easy access to his tools.

“When I bought this property, this little house used to be the original building until I built the new house. I figured I’d put this building to good use, but that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

He smiles at you before gesturing to something in the back next to the workbench, you gasp as your eyes settle on the half built piece of furniture.

“Is… is that a crib?!” you ask, a slight hint of panic in your voice.

“It is, and I have another surprise for you,” he continues as he grabs a piece of paper off the work bench, bringing it over to you.

You take the sheet from him, confused at first, it appeared to be results of a blood test, with elevated levels of hGC, whatever that means.

“Leon, I don’t really know what I’m looking at…”

“Come again?”

You mentally roll your eyes, “Daddy, I don’t know what this paper means.”

You watch as a smile slowly appears across Leon’s lips, his eyes locked onto you, “it means you’re pregnant, babygirl.”

“What?” you reply in utter disbelief.

“I took a sample of your blood with me to work and had the lab boys test it. I wanted to be able to give you the good news!”

Good news? GOOD NEWS? This was the furthest thing from good news. You start hyperventilating, the realization that you are tied to Leon forever now sinking in. You collapse to your knees, sobbing violently.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Why are you crying?

Leon stood there, watching you as you collapsed to the floor, utterly confused. You should be happy, why aren’t you happy? Leon’s lifelong dream of starting a family, especially with the love of his life, was finally coming true. When he had seen the results, he was completely overwhelmed with joy, so why aren’t you?

“Sweetheart, are you afraid…?” he began, kneeling down to you so that he was at your eye level, “there’s no need to be afraid, you’re going to be the most beautiful and perfect mommy to our baby.”

You continue to cry, big, heavy tears falling from your face as you struggle to breathe. Leon reaches out to you, caressing your cheek and wiping tears from your eyes, “I’m going to take such good care of you during this pregnancy, I promise.”

He was trying so hard to comfort you, but the more he spoke, the more your sobs got more intense. He suddenly grabs you by your arm, forcing you back onto your feet, but that didn’t stop you from crying.

“Baby, please tell Daddy what’s wrong. Don’t you want my baby?”

“NO!” you scream at him without even the slightest hesitation, your body violently trembling.

In that moment, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. What do you mean you don’t want his baby? What began as sadness then evolved into full on rage as his anger coursed through his veins. He looks down at you, sees you still crying. However, he knew he couldn’t act on his anger, he didn’t want to risk losing the baby. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

He gently wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him, pressing you to his chest. You bury your face into his chest, tears staining his shirt. He simply held you there in his arms, letting you cry it all out. Eventually, you did finally stop crying, much to Leon’s relief. He runs his hand through your hair as he looks down at you, your face still buried in his pecs.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, it’ll be ok. We’re finally going to be a happy family.”

Part 6

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #gigabyte writes #there's no escape

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mistyresolve · 1 month

Text

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 6)

Word Count - 3k

Summary - TF 141 has regrouped at their safe house, and in the past two weeks they have been of trying to figure out their next move. Doc and Ghost finally have a little talk about their night together.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn

A/N - hi

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3 ❤︎ Part 3.5 ❤︎ Part 4 ❤︎ Part 5 ❤︎ Part 7

Masterlist

The two of you were back in the garage the next morning. Ghost getting up significantly earlier than you did; leaving you to wake up alone and slightly chilled from the morning air.

There was also a delicious ache between your legs that wasn’t normally there.

Ghost was servicing one of the armoured vehicles to make sure it was ready to go when the squad needed to move. It’s matte tan painting normally nothing significant but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of familiarity with the vehicle. While taking stock of your medical supplies you stared at the lettering on the side of the vehicle trying to pinpoint where you had seen it before.

“Riley,” you called out, eyes still locked on the bolded lettering on the side of the hood. He paused what he was doing to look up at you. With narrowed eyes, you said, “Why do I feel like I’ve read about this ATV before?” You recalled reading about a vehicle being swiped from a convoy a few months ago in one of the weekly newsletters the military put out.

“Uhh,” you could’ve sworn there was a slight blush underneath that mask, “Yeah, we stole it. Wasn’t our intent at first, but figured it would be a waste of an opportunity if we returned it.”

You made your way to the stool beside him, “‘We’ as in?”

“Soap and I…” he thought for a second, searching for the right word, “commandeered it on our way into an active combat zone. In the report, we said it was a hostile.” he shrugged. Everything here was stolen, sure, but it was mostly little things like rations and ammo; which he had mentioned took forever to compile. The other vehicle was just a modified truck. This was an Oshkosh MPAP; equipped with a turret, and bulletproof windows, and was worth a million dollars.

And these goons just took it.

Despite his seemingly nonchalance demeanour, there was clear pride in the set of his shoulders. You also knew he and Soap chuckled about it on their way here to stash it.

“What did Price have to say about it?” you inspected the manual for the ATV to see all it came with. There was a hesitance from him and you lifted a brow at him, “What will Price have to say about it?” you reworded the question, getting the sense that Price doesn’t know.

“I doubt he’ll even notice,” Simon set back to work, reaching for something and tightening it with a wrench.

The rest of the squad arrived later in the morning and Price undoubtedly noticed. In fact, he pointed right at it, eyebrows raised but didn’t say a word.

Soap pretended to be just as shocked, “How did this get in here?”

Ghost did a good job of redirecting everyone’s attention, “We’ve got almost a week's worth of food reserves.”

Gaz swung his gear over his shoulder heading towards the makeshift barracks, “You leave any hot water for us?” he asked Ghost.

“Nope,” he shot back dryly, failing to mention there was never any hot water to begin with. He shoved a finger in Soap’s direction, “You better get in there next. I can smell you.”

“It’s a musk,” Soap retorted, feigning offence.

“Go stand downwind of me,” Ghost strained as he looked an ammo crate into one of the trucks.

You couldn’t smell Soap from where you sat but you were sure every one of them smelt like a little ripe from all the traveling. They looked weary from it.

A strange feeling of unspoken uneasiness hung overhead all of you. Everyone was purposefully avoiding the obvious fact that we didn’t have a solid plan.

When Gaz returned from his shower, he had a strange look on his face. A mix of annoyance and embarrassment. He had pulled a a pack of cigarettes from his pocket throwing them to Soap, “You win,” he said bitterly.

“Really?” Soap caught the pack, immediately putting one in his mouth. He turned to Ghost, “You’ve just made me a very happy man.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ghost looked genuinely confused. He glanced at you with questioning eyes, wondering if you had any insight into their exchange.

You offered him a subtle shrug.

Price was talking quietly with Laswell outside the garage. With dark bags weighing down his eyes, accompanied by a frown, Price looked uncharacteristically tired. Knowing him, he probably didn’t get the best sleep last night. It was us against the world right now, and since he was our captain every single one of us was looking to him for direction. It was a lot of pressure for one man. But there was a good reason he was Captain. He was level-headed and experienced. This probably wasn’t the first time he found himself in this situation either. This was just another Wednesday for him. For all of them.

Except you.

You don’t belong on a task force like this. You weren’t even sure you were meant for the medic life anymore. Lord knew you couldn’t save anyone when it mattered.

Your teeth sank into your lip as you pondered your life choices so far. The hair on the back of your neck began to tingle and when you looked up to see Ghost watching you from across the room. His eyes revealed nothing before he dragged his attention back to Soap.

Price called for a meeting after everyone was a little more settled in, “We’ll need to lie low for the next few weeks. Keep our footprint to a minimum,” Price took a seat on the bench next to you, swiping a hand down his face, “Laswell said that the brasses have been keeping it tight-lipped about our situation. So either they don’t know and someone is working on this alone or they do know and don’t want it getting out,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Which one is worse? I don’t know.”

If they do know we risk giving ourselves away by trying to make contact. This was going to be a waiting game.

We were in this alone and the thought of the world being completely oblivious to our disappearance was frightening. The idea of your family never knowing what happened to you left just as fast as it came.

“Until we come up with a plan?” Gaz sneered, his eyes hardening making it evident it was hardly a question.

“How long will that take?” You asked, your knee bouncing in a clear show of anxiety.

Laswell cleared her throat, eyes peeking over the laptop she was sitting in front of, “I’ve got a few contacts on US soil who are doing some internal investigations. I won’t be able to exchange information with them as often as I’d like but they’re good at what they do,” She assured, this usually perfect braid falling loose down her shoulder. “I trust that they’ll be able to find some leads.”

“How long with that take?” Ghost repeated your question.

Laswell huffed, “I have no idea.”

“Let’s aim for a few weeks at the very least,” Price said, lifting a fresh unlit cigar to his mouth.

“We’ve only got a week’s worth of food,” you exchanged a look with Ghost, who was already looking at you, his dark eyes unreadable. Before the rest of the team got here he had donned his mask, making it all the harder to gauge what exactly he was thinking.

“Ahh,” Laswell flipped her laptop to face the rest of us. You leaned forward and squinted at the bright screen with multiple windows pulled up, “There’s a little townlet three hours from here with no military presence. We can go into town to stock up when the time arrives.”

Two weeks. Two whole weeks passed and Laswells weren’t any closer to finding out who Specter was, and everyone was getting antsy. She did, however, discover that we have all been flagged as deserters.

Price and Gaz were out doing recon every morning, and every time they came back with the same news. Which was no news.

You and Ghost had gone into the little town Laswell aforementioned nearly every day since that first week. You spent most of your time at one of the schools there. It was a symbiotic relationship where you were providing medical services wherever you were needed in exchange for more medical supplies. All the while Ghost went off on his own sometimes coming back with food other times with information on the movements of the military. “For your safety” he wasn’t able to tell you who exactly he was meeting with for this information.

You were cleaning the wound of a smaller child, her dark hair and wide glassy eyes flitting to everything that moved. Considering how her wound looked a week ago she was healing well. In a few more days there will be nothing left but a pink scar. You couldn’t understand each other because of a language barrier but there was mutual respect between you two. She couldn’t have been older than 10 but her eyes showed she had seen more than her years. Her eyes would sometimes glaze over and would stare far beyond what you could see. Her mouth would loosen and she would murmur to herself. A prayer, you were later told by a woman who spoke English. It was unsettling to see someone so young so grown.

That’s what growing up in a warzone will do to you. You chastised yourself, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Here,” you secured her bandage showing off your work to her. Her delicate hand grazed it, her face void of emotion. With a slight bow of her head, she left. You watched as she disappeared back out the school door.

You felt someone take a seat beside you, her identity easily discerned by her scent of pepper and rosemary. “Her mother would have been so devastated to see her like this,” she spoke softly, her accent almost undetectable. She was one of the teachers at the school, and also the one who let you use her classroom as a makeshift station when she didn’t have any classes.

She seemed like a great teacher, artwork and previous school projects lined her classroom walls.

It didn’t go unnoticed that she was using the past tense. Your mouth opened and closed as you fought to find the right words, “She’s too young,” too young for this kind of life. Too young to be seeing death. Too young to be this broken.

“Is anyone ever old enough?” She began helping you pack your supplies, offering you a new medical kit for today’s services, “We are having trouble getting shipments in so this is going to be the last time we’ll be able to pay you back.”

You tilted your head at her, “What do you mean by troubles?”

She smoothed out the wrinkles from her shirt, “They’ve put up checkpoints at every roading leading in and out of eastern borders. It is almost impossible to get transport trucks through,” Her blue eyes had grown tired in the last few days.

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. If there is anything I can do to repay you, anything at all, let me know.”

She smiled and shook her head, “You’ve done more than enough,” she leaves you to turn her attention to a group of students coming in for her next class.

Ghost returned to the school a few hours earlier than he usually did, his pace hurried, “Grab your stuff. We’re getting out of here,” he panted like he’d run the entire way back to the school but he was already moving to pack your supplies back into your pack.

You looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together, “What’s wrong?”

“A convoy was sighted three hundred kilometres to the east,” he didn’t wait for your reply before he slung ur pack over his shoulder and strode for the door, “And they aren’t insurgents.”

Which means they’re American. And they couldn’t know we were here. They would take us all back in, and the last thing we wanted was to be getting into gunfights with our own.

Ghost opened your door for you, “Get in.”

You gave him a side glance before stepping up into the truck and letting him slam it shut behind you. Apart from the sound of the rocky road underneath the wheels and the whir of the engine the ride back was silent. You watched out your window, turning thoughts over in your head, debating whether the conversation you’ve been wanting to have with him but never the time, was worth it.

Since that first night, nothing more has happened between you too. There hasn’t been the time for a conversation about it. Let alone actual sex. Still, a conversation needed to be had at some point. You wanted to know what he was thinking. He was always difficult to read and never shared his thoughts and feelings with anyone.

“What’s on your mind?” Ghost spoke first, sensing your hesitation, his eyes flickering between you and the road.

“A lot,” you tried laughing but it came out more like a sigh, then shrugged, “I guess mostly…about that night,” you started off.

His eyes widened before he quickly turned to face the road again, “Go on.”

“We haven’t discussed it, or… haven’t really had the time to explore what it means. If it does mean anything. Don’t get me wrong,” you caught yourself, “There really isn’t a worse time for something like this,” it wasn’t like things had grown awkward between the two of you in the last few weeks, but you weren’t sure how you were supposed to be feeling. Or how he was feeling. Doubt had crept into the corners of your mind in the last few weeks.

Maybe it was just a distraction for him.

Your breakfast soured in your stomach at the idea.

The clouds overhead began to turn a sombre grey, bringing with it the threats of a storm.

Beside you, he’d grown impossibly still. His shoulders were taut with discomfort, “If you’re going to say it was a mistake just do us both a favour and say it.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, “Was it–” you swallowed, “Was it a mistake for you?”

“No,” he spoke with conviction, “No, it wasn’t.”

Just as fast as the air left your lungs, they were filled, “Ohh,” you released a sigh, your head falling back onto the seat.

“Once we get ourselves out of this we can talk about it all you want, but–”

“But, now isn’t a good time,” you finished for him, agreeing with the statement.

“I don’t want you to think I used you like some sex-crazed caveman,” he shifted, the light of the day dwindling as we rolled down the road, the shadows from the trees creeping closer and closer to the truck.

“I dont…” you started but he was already pulling the truck over to the side of the road.

“I need you to know that the moment we get back to society that this,” he unbuckled his seatbelt and gestured between the two of you, “Isn’t going to end. I care for you but I need you to stay alive. So, I’m deciding for us to put things on hold because neither of us needs the distraction. It wasn’t a mistake. Do I wish I had waited until I was able to fuck you in a real bed? Kinda.”

The first few drops of rain splattered onto the windshield, fat and heavy.

He released the strap on his bulletproof vest to his chest and reached for my hand, “Feel this,” he brought my hand, dwarfed in his, to his racing heart. The heat radiated off his body, “That is what you do to me. Every time you look at me, or speak, or enter a room. I feel like I can’t breathe around you. I’m terrified of you, and the possibilities that come with you,” he squeezed your hand, and he took in a shuttering breath, “And when you look at me like that,” his voice dropped and his eyes searched yours before bringing your hand lower, where you felt his member hardening.

Your cheeks heated and you felt your own heart quicken its pace.

The sounds of the rain became a rhythmic beat as it began to downpour, and without the windshield wipers to wipe away the downfall it was nearly impossible to see to the outside.

He let out a low, agonizing sound when you gave him an experimental squeeze

His attention flicked to the clock on the dash, his eyes darkening, “If I had been a smart man I wouldn’t have told Price we were leaving early. So if we take much longer it’ll raise questions,” he pulled away from you, slowly, like it was taking every sane part of him to do so, “And I’m sure you don’t want that.”

You shook your head. You did not want to talk with Price about your extracurriculars.

He took one last look at you, “Fuck sake,” he lifted the bottom half of his mask and pulled your lips to his. It was a chaste, desperate, open-mouth kiss. One where his hands dipped your head back to gain better access. His thumbs cradled your jaw, his fingers curling in your hair.

It was just like the last time you kissed him. He was all fire and heat. He was explosive.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were wet and rosy, his eyes half-lidded, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere?” he said lowly.

You couldn’t help the sheepish smile, “I’m here.”

His Foresight - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx ❤︎@mymommmy ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums ❤︎ @xheera ❤︎ @lockleywife ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod fanfic #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #modern warfare fanfiction #task force 141 #simon riley x reader #cod ghost

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shinestarhwaa · 3 months

Text

FANTASIZE || OT8 (SAN CENTERED)

''I fantasize about you all the time, if you were mine I'd give this pussy to ya 9 to 5, 5 to 9''

I tried writing this fic a little differently than my usuals, as they used to be more in the past tense, how do you guys like them this way?

Genre: Smut

Pairing: bf!San x Fem reader x ot8

Word Count: 2.7K

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, Dom!reader, Sub!San, Handjob, Dirty language, Voyeurism, Pegging, Anal play, Cockslapping, Masturbation, Facesitting, Oral sex, Use of mommy, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Praise, Sex toys, Use of a collar & leash, San has a big & thick dick, Kinda himbo!San core

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @sanspuppet

ENJOY!

"So, baby," you say as you run your hand over your boyfriends thigh. You're laying down on the couch together, watching some dull movie when an idea pops into your head. "Hm?" He responds.

"Don't you have any fantasies?"

His ears seem to turn red instantly at your question. "Fantasies? Uhm... That's a good question, I don't really know," he says. "Oh, really?" You ask while playing with his hair. "Yeah, you already brought my fantasies to life," he nods. You smile and kiss his temple, thinking about the things you've done to him in the past months.

It wasn't like San was inexperienced. Sure, he had sex before and he was quite good at it, but when he started to have sex with you that's where his real desires came to the surface. He dropped the sexy act and focussed on feeling good, letting you handle him, use him, tell him what to do and fuck him until he saw stars.

"So there's nothing else? I've fulfilled all of them?"

San looks away a little, cheeks flushed. You laugh and pull him closer. "Sannie, just tell me, I won't make fun of it." "I know you won't, it's just a little... very dirty..."

"Mmh, but I love things a little... very dirty," you say, hand gliding over his toned chest. "Well, you know... at first I told you the fantasy about... you pegging me, right?" You nod and press a kiss on his cheek. "That was actually not the whole fantasy," San admits.

You're intrigued and a smile plays on your lips. "Well what is the rest of the fantasy then, babe?" "I... I want you to fuck me while the guys watch us." Your mouth fell open a little as he told his little secret but you were quick to close it.

"So... You want me to peg you and have all 7 of them watch? Do you think they're up for it baby?" You asked for clarification. San bit his lip and shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure... I think some of them definitely would but I just get so hard when I think about it... I just imagine you fucking me and making me moan out loud and...Them surrounding us with their cocks out and they... They play with themselves and say nasty, dirty things to me."

An obvious tent was forming in San's sweatpants by now, showing you how much he actually wants it. Your hand slid into his pants and boxers, taking a hold of his hardened cock. "Yeah? You want that, baby? Do you want them to jerk off to the sight of you being used?"

San gulps and nods enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, I do," he pants as he feels his cock harden even more if that was even possible. Your hand slid up and down his shaft and San grunts softly, breathing becoming erratic. "You imagine them seeing you cum untouched because of me baby? You imagine them saying things to you?"

"God, yes I do, I imagine them calling me a slut... and I imagine them telling me how good I'm taking it." You smirk and pick up the pace of your hand. You move it up and down quickly as you flick your wrist to jerk him off just the way he likes it. "Sanie, you wouldn't be embarrassed?" "Y-Yes I would be embarrassed, I would, but..."

You smirk and squeeze his cock slightly. "But that's what you want, isn't it?" "Y-yes, yes it is," San says, breath hitching in his throat as his cock begins to twitch. "Are you coming already? Aren't you a needy little boy. Go ahead then. Cum for mommy."

•

"Guys? What are you all doing here?" San asks as he steps into the living room. He looks around and sees you hanging out with his friends. "Hey Sanie," you say with a smile. You get up from your seat and take his hand.

"Hey there Sanie," Wooyoung says, his voice sounding nearly hungry as if he was ready to ravish him. But you weren't gonna let them touch him, he's all yours tonight.

"Do you remember when we were on the couch 3 weeks ago and you told me about a little fantasy?" You ask him, fingers trailing up and down his chest. He immediately freezes, now realizing why they're all here. They're here to watch him get fucked.

"Oh my God," San whispers as he already feels his cock hardening in his pants. "They're all here to watch me and you. We'll have so much fun won't we baby? I've got everything ready here... So all you have to do is freshen up and you can come back again," you order. "Yes... Yes I'll go wash up," San nods before he speeds to the bathroom.

You look at the 7 guys in front of you and give them a stern look. "Okay, you guys are not allowed to touch him, are we clear? You're allowed to undress and touch yourself, talk, but no touching or fucking." They all nod, but Hongjoong opens his mouth. "Are we allowed to cum on him?"

You're too stunned to speak for a minute. You didn't expect them to say yes and now they want to cum on your boyfriend? These kinky, horny fuckers. ''I suppose that's alright,'' you nod. You take off your sweater and jeans and reveal the black, lacy lingerie bodysuit hugging your figure in the perfect way. The guys let out sounds of approval as you take a collar and leash in your hand and show your outfit off to them. The 7 men discard their tops and pants and wait for San to come back into the living room.

A few minutes later San walks in, wearing only a towel. ''I-I figured I wouldn't need any clothing anyway,'' San explains as he comes up to you. He watches you in awe, cock already half-hard at the sight of you in the sexy lingerie. ''Alright babyboy, are you ready to give the boys a show?'' ''Yes... I'm ready.''

You order him to sit down on the seperate element you took from your large sofa and so he does. His eyes twitch nervously and they follow your every move. You stand behind him as you attach the collar to his neck. ''I know this is not part of your fantasy but it is mine... If you want me to stop you know to use your safe word, yes?'' ''Yes...''

''Speak with two words, San.'' ''Yes, mommy,'' he whispers underneath his breath, looking down. ''Speak up. I'm not gonna do this if you're not gonna act properly. You're a good boy right?'' ''Yes, mommy,'' San says, a little louder this time. ''That's a good boy,'' you say, caressing his hair gently.

Your take his chin inbetween your fingers and pull it sideways, kissing him on his plush lips. He moves towards you, only slightly, but enough to make his towel fall down a little, revealing his thick cock for everyone to see. You notice a few of the guys are already reaching for their cocks inside their underwear, pumping them slowly to full hardness.

The feeling of San's lips against yours are enough to get you excited so you decide not to hold off on 'the show' any longer. You break off the kiss and take his towel away. San's cock twitches the moment you touch it. His knuckles are white from holding onto the sofa so tightly. "Relax, baby, I'm just gonna play with you."

You attach the leash onto San's collar and give it a gentle tug to see if it's fastened well enough. He glares at the velvety box beside him, full of the toys you like to use. You take a small vibrator out of it and squirt a nice amount of lube on it.

"Get on your hands and knees, prince," you order him. San obeys, instinctively facing the wall so he's showing off his bare bottom to his friends. His face digs into the fabric of the sofa, so embarrassed but so turned on.

"God, you've got a nice ass, Mountain," Mingi grunts. "Fuck," Seonghwa mutters underneath his breath. His hole clenches as he hears praises fall off his friends' tongues.

You carefully slide the toy into your boyfriends' ass. It's small enough to insert without preparation but it's effective enough to rile him up before you actually use him. San whines as the contact and tries to muffle his whimpers. "Sit down again."

San nodds and sits down with his legs spreaded, facing the guys and watching each of them with their cock in their hand. "Look at them, Sanie, they're all excited for you to get fucked," you whisper in his ear.

Suddenly San cries out as you slap his cock. "M-mommy, why?" "Hm, because I like to play with you and you get off on it."

You slap his cock repeatedly until it's dripping with pre-cum and turns an angry red shade. "M-mommy," he whines, "wanna cum!"

"I know you do baby but mommy gets to cum first, right? Are you gonna be good and make mommy cum?" "Yes! Yes, fuck I wanna make mommy cum," he moans as you rub the tip of his dick. You take your hands off him and start to undress fully, showing your bare body off to the guys. You notice some of them starting to wank faster, making your ego grow little by little.

You bend over to face San on eye-level while at the same time you're showing your plump ass and wet pussy to them. "Y/N, show us more," Wooyoung begs. "Fuck, I wish I could touch you, could taste you," Seonghwa grunts.

You smirk and make eye contact with San. "Well boys, you can look all you want but you ain't getting my pussy. Let's see if San pleases me well enough." You lay San down and hover above him, aligning your aroused cunt above his face. You put the leash down and run your hand through your hair as San pulls you down onto his face, diving his tongue into your wetness.

"Mmh, yeah baby, that's it," you moan as you massage your breasts. You made sure to make eye contact with the guys, looking and sounding pornographic and sexy as ever. Their eyes are glued on the way his face is buried between your legs, the way your boobs bounce slightly as you rock yourself on San's tongue and his hard cock standing up straight, still leaking with pre-cum.

You moan out San's name as you ride his face, feeling his nose against your clit. You grind harder and harder as you feel your orgasm coming onto you. "That's it baby boy, fuck, are you gonna make mommy cum? Gonna make mommy cum on your pretty little face?"

San moans and whines from between your legs as he does his best to make you cum. Before you know it your orgasm washes over you and you cum with a loud moan of San's name. You get off San's face and look at the arousal dripping from his lips. His face already looks so fucked out you can't even imagine what he's gonna look like after you've fucked him.

"You've been a very good boy, darling... Do you wanna get fucked now?" "Y-yes, yes, please, please, I want it badly," he whines as you slap his dick once again. You get off him and push his knees towards his chest so you can take a good look at his puckering hole. You pull the little vibrator out and he whimpers and clenches right away.

You take the strap-on panties from the special box and put them on while you attach one of San's favourite dildo's. "Is he gonna take it just like that?" Yunho gasps. "Mhm, he is, aren't you? You're such a good boy, you take whatever I give you," you smirk as you squirt lube all over the toy.

"Y-yes, I'll take it mommy, I'll be your good boy."

You slowly push into him and watch his eyes roll back to his brain, letting out a long whine as he feels you fill him up to the brim. "Fuck," Wooyoung cursed as he starts to pump his cock up and down, trying to match the pace you used to slowly fuck into him.

"Go faster, fuck, I wanna see him ruined," Seonghwa mutters. You smirk and listen to his request, picking up the pace. "Hear that baby? They all wanna see you ruined for me. They wanna see you take some fucking plastic dick up your ass and make a mess of yourself. You love that don't you baby? You love having them watch you."

San was turned into a moaning mess, toes curling as you moved harder and deeper inside him, hitting his prostate repeatedly. "That's it angel, moan for me, that's it."

You continued for a few more minutes before pulling out and ordering San to change positions. He sat on his hands and knees and faces all his friends with a look of arousal and shame on his face.

Only a few seconds later you pounded into him again, hands holding onto his waist. You dig your nails into his delicate skin as he falls apart in front of you. "No, no, don't drop your head, keep it up, come on. Watch them. Look your friends in the eyes."

San did so, looking them in the eyes one by one, moaning out loud, cock twitching and leaking so much pre-cum. "He ain't gonna last," Hongjoong says with a cocky grin as he fondles his own balls. "Oh? Is my precious gonna cum already? Gonna cum for them? Go on then, let go babyboy."

It didn't take long before San cums all over the sofa and floor, loads of cum spilling out as you keep on fucking him. "That's it baby, take it, take that fucking cock," you grunt. You are not planning on stopping just yet, wanting to make him cum again.

"M-mommy, m-mommy it's too much, oh God, mommy!" He cries out, tears in his eyes as you keep railing him, prodding against his prostate. You pull him up against your chest as you keep pounding into him, holding his body tight against your torso. The guys now have a perfect view of his messy and still erect cock.

Tears were falling down his face by now and you were determined to make him cum again. "Would someone be a dear and give me that pink vibrator?" You ask while you point at it. Yeosang was quick to hand it over.

You turn it onto the highest setting immediately and press it against San's cock and he immediately let's out the loudest moans you ever earned from him. His entire body trembles and shakes as you hold him in a tight embrace, cock and ass being so overstimulated that he bursts, cumming all over himself once again.

You turn off the toy and toss it to the side as you gesture the guys to come closer. "Please," San suddenly begs, "Cum on my face, c-coat me in your cum please, use me, use me, please!"

"You heard him boys, come on. Give him your loads, he's been good right?"

Yeosang and Mingi step forward first, pumping their cocks quickly as they look San straight into the eyes. "Open up that mouth, let me see that sinful tongue," Yeosang grunts as he feels his orgasm come closer.

San opens his mouth, drool falling down and dripping down his chin as he catches Yeosang and Mingi's cum. Jongho and Hongjoong were next, eager to coat his mouth and chin white. They pumped each others cocks and spurted their release all over his mouth. Then Yunho comes forward. "Fuck, I wish I could stuff you full with my cock baby, but you're gonna have to do it with just my cum."

Yunho slaps his cock against San's cheek before cumming all over it. Then lastly Seonghwa and Wooyoung come up, jerking off quickly and bursting immediately, coating San's entire face. San let's out a whimper as he feels the hot, sticky cum over his entire face, slowly dripping down to his neck and chest.

"I made your fantasy come true, didn't I, angel?" You say as you pull out of his hole. He whimpers and fall into your arms, nearly passing out. "You sure did," he says in a hoarse voice, "My fantasy is fulfilled."

#kpop #ateez #shinestarhwaa #smut #san #seonghwa #wooyoung #yunho #yeosang #hongjoong #jongho #mingi #ot8 #sub san #sub ateez

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mylovelies-docx · 10 months

Text

Sorry, I Love You - Part 5

Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood afternoon, everyone.

:) Have fun

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Awkwardness, flashbacks, feels

Word Count: 1,950

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4]

This wouldn't be your and Bucky's first undercover mission together, but it would be the first one where the tension between you is decidedly not sexual. You're not even sure how well the two of you can pull off this charade since you have no idea what your chemistry is like anymore. Used to, you could do anything together, be anything together.

Not so much now.

There’s an awkwardness between you. Silences pregnant with all the things left unsaid – or should have been left unsaid. You’ll catch Bucky watching you from the corner of your eyes, always with an unreadable expression like he’s trying to figure you out again without actually asking any questions.

You can't imagine that you've changed so much in the intervening months, but Bucky makes so much progress in therapy that his confidence in himself and his personality grow by leaps and bounds all the time.

You don’t know this new Bucky, but you wish you did. You wish you had been with him to see his growth, encourage him on.

You’ve missed out on so much of your life by staying away from the Tower. You’d had so many plans that never came to be – no walks in the park when the flowers started to bloom, no trips to the beach on the hottest days of the year, no ice skating when the first snow fell. You kept a tab on everything that should have been on the calendar in your mind, noting all the days that had significance in the past but went uncelebrated this year.

But what’s done is done, and you have to pay for your actions – half a year away is a small price to have Bucky back in your life, even as a stranger instead of your lover.

You’re now trying to organize your new life on the outskirts of a small town in Russia, just a few miles away from a HYDRA base. Snow was falling thick and fast as the quinjet touched down hours ago, leaving behind a pristine blanket of white outside your new home. The small, two-bedroom cottage looks rustic, but it is still nicer than most of the surrounding homes due to Tony’s influence. There is hidden technology that will help the house to stay warm in this cold climate and random high-tech appliances, lights, and other things that look normal and are anything but.

With the HYDRA base going radio silent, you may be in this little home for longer than was initially expected earlier this year. Bucky is sure that the base is still active, though. He spent a lot of time here as the Winter Soldier, but no one has received reports from the embedded spy in recent months. This inactivity is concerning since you're no longer sure what is going on inside the building anymore.

It would be too obvious for Bucky to go undercover inside the facility, so that leaves it up to you to infiltrate as a researcher. The spy had assured last year that no one from the facility lived in the town you’ve settled in, so it’s safe enough for Bucky to remain close by as you work.

But the small town you’ve settled in is so traditional that the only way to remain inconspicuous as a younger woman is to be connected to a man in some way – be it living with family members or a husband.

And since you don't want to be labeled an outcast or worse, Bucky is here.

Bucky is going to be a mechanic at the small family-owned shop just down the road, and his prosthesis is covered in Stark technology that makes it appear as if he’d never lost it. Bucky used to spend a lot of time fixing up old cars and motorcycles between missions, so he should really enjoy spending his days in the garage helping out the Kowalds.

Unfortunately, your background isn’t as fun. You’re a whiz when it comes to biology, so Nat cooked up a false resume full of lab work that centers around eugenics and biomanipulation – things your spy had reported the facility was actively looking into. In order to get your foot in the door at the HYDRA facility, the Avengers had to create a background so disturbing that you're not even sure if you can interview for it properly.

You're just zipping up into your thick winter coat when Bucky walks out of the kitchen drying his hands on a dish towel.

“You headin’ out now, doll?” He asks, a small worry line between his eyebrows.

“Yup,” you answer back with a comforting smile on your face. “I need to go meet with our contact to make sure that everything is still okay.”

“Just be careful, yeah?” he tells you, slinging the towel up onto his shoulder. Today is his first day at the mechanic shop, so he's dressed in blue overalls with a small name tag stitched onto his chest. The sun is just barely rising, but he's going to be late if he doesn't hurry.

"You know me, Buck. My middle name is Safe."

"Your middle name is Trouble and you can't convince me otherwise, babygirl."

You stick your tongue out at him and blow a raspberry, holding your middle finger up in the air as you turn around and head out the door. Once out of his sight, you smile and bask in the feeling of having your friend back.

You'd missed the banter and easy wit you used to share together, so this small exchange feels like a return to normal. The awkwardness might return in time, but you hope Bucky has forgiven you enough to power through.

You trek along the deserted streets. The early hour and layer of snow on the ground seems to be keeping the townsfolk within their homes, wrapped snugly under their warm blankets. You sigh heavily and watch your breath fog in the air, the mist condensing and freezing your skin as you walk through the cloud.

You pass house after house, noticing lights turning on and the sound of hairdryers, televisions, and conversations humming in the air. Everything has a vague, indistinct quality to it, lulling you into daydreams of what their lives are like. Is it simple? Do they enjoy this cold, snowy location? Or are they also dreaming of a warm day laying in the grass in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top?

A memory worms its way to the surface of your mind of a day spent just like that with Bucky.

This was only a few weeks before your friends-with-benefits situation started. It was the hottest day of the year so far, the humidity heavy in the air and making the sidewalks and parks of New York City intensely uncomfortable. Even though Stark has the Tower equipped with the latest technology, he's incapable of leaving anything well enough alone. He'd been tinkering with the HVAC and somehow short-circuited the entire system. Everyone in the Tower was miserable and cranky, choosing to avoid one another in an attempt to stave off arguments and confrontations.

You'd been sitting in the shade of the balcony, fanning yourself as you watched all the teeny tiny people on the ground maneuver the crosswalks and traffic to get to where they were going. It was no warmer outside than it was in your room, so you chose to people-watch instead of lay there and sweat miserably on your clean sheets.

Just as some bratty kid you’d been watching chucked the ice cream he’d been yelling for only moments ago onto the sidewalk, the sliding glass doors behind you whooshed open. The sound of metal knocking against the doorframe had let you know that Bucky was the one to interrupt your spying.

Regretfully turning your neck, you felt your skin sliding wet and hot against itself. A frown marred your features as you stared at Bucky as he stood behind you, his eyes alight with mischievous glee.

“What did you do…?” You question slowly, almost afraid to know what that look was all about.

He shrugged a shoulder and smirked. “Nothing too bad.”

“BARNES!!!” a voice roared from the depths of the Tower.

You quirked an eyebrow at him and a small, disbelieving smile graced your lips. “That doesn’t sound like nothing, Buck.”

Bucky hmm’d and glanced back into the building when a CRASH reverberated from where the voice had yelled moments ago. “I was going to get out of here for a while. You wanna come?” he questioned breezily.

“And why would I want to leave when Tony’s working on fixing the AC?” you replied as you continued to fan yourself. Bucky’s eyebrows had quirked ever so slightly.

“Y/L/N!!!”

Your hand had frozen mid-fan and your eyes widened so much that Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Where’d you say we were going?” you asked as you rose quickly from your seat and bypassed Bucky at the door.

***

“You little shit!” You had laughed uproariously when Bucky finally admitted to the prank.

“What else was I gonna do?” he responded, turning his face to look at you.

Even with the intense heat that day, you and Bucky had decided to forgo the climate controlled vehicles in the garage and went instead with the fastest getaway vehicle – Bucky’s bike. The wind had whipped against your body when you held onto Bucky and watched the city fall into the distance behind you.

He apparently hadn’t had a destination in mind, so you had ridden until cities and towns disappeared. He’d pulled off beside a barely visible hiking trail and jumped off his bike. You had followed suit and watched as Bucky pulled a blanket from inside the storage compartment on the bike. You hiked your eyebrows questioningly, but only got a grin in response.

That’s how you had found yourself lounging on a blanket in the middle of a field with Bucky on the hottest day of the year. You’d chatted and laughed for hours until the sun had slowly faded from the sky. Out that far, the light pollution of the cities couldn’t touch the stars. You had gazed upwards, trying to draw the constellations as you remembered them.

You weren’t any good at astrology or astronomy, but the stories behind the figures in the sky captivated you nonetheless.

You laughed again and turned to face him as well. “And why’d you have to implicate me, huh?”

“Figured it’d be more fun that way,” he had answered slyly.

You had wound your arm up and smacked him on the stomach, your hand bouncing off of the toned muscles. He’d caught your wrist on the next swing and held it up and away from his body. You’d tried to tug it away, but his metal fingers held fast and didn’t let you go. You rolled over toward him and began trying to use your body as leverage, but you had only succeeded in pulling yourself closer to him.

You huffed and blew the piece of hair that had fallen over your eyes away and looked up at him. He’d had a look in his eyes that he hadn’t directed at you before, but you’d seen glimpses of it when he’d find someone to bring back for the night.

You can’t help but think that that moment had been the turning point in your friendship with Bucky, the moment he thought about asking you to be friends-with-benefits. Of course you’d found him handsome long before then, but that was a moment that really cemented your attraction to him.

You didn’t have romantic feelings at the time, but you should have known they were inevitable.

Part 6

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch@stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #Sorry I Love You

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xmalereader · 1 year

Text

Simon Riley X Tall! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: I caved into this request even though I wasn’t accepting any but couldn’t help but get it done. I tried to give it batman and catwomen vibes but failed miserably. (￣∀￣) anyways, enjoy this shot that I didn’t really try my best on but did what I could to get the story going.

Request: Ghost X Tall! Male Reader that can speak Spanish (it's hella sexy) and tries to teach Ghost some too...

Warnings: Fluff, Spanish language, flirting, masked reader, tall reader, missions, hacker, pas memories, learning, ghost falls for reader, mentions of Alejandro’s past, language, semi short shot, code name: rouge.

Word count: 3.2k

Tags: @guardkeywolf

Laswell had a mission for the a team, fairly simple but also risky. She thought the process would be a lot faster than she thought but instead took notice that the mission she needed to complete was going to be a lot harder than she thought and needed all the help that she could get. She didn’t need strong men but intelligence and the last intelligent person they had was Graves until the betrayal. His skills would’ve come in handy if he didn’t betray them along with Shepard. She instead had to look for an alternate route, one that she felt hesitant to use.

When she arrived in base she was able to get everyone to meet her, standing around a table as the gives everyone a nod of greeting before starting. “Thank you for accepting my offer, I’ve been tracking down Finch for years and had a hard time tracking him until now.” She holds out a folder and sets it in front of everyone, opening and showing them a picture of their target. “Finch operates in Money Laundering. He’s in charge of cleaning the money in order for it to be used and harder to trace.” She explains, setting out the file. “He helps big leaders, gangs, drug dealers, cartels—whoever the hell he can get in contact with, he will work for them. If we can get him then we can get all the intel that we need from people he might know. Target must come back alive.” Her last weird date stern and serious, she couldn’t lose this man nor can she risk getting him killed.

“Very well,” Price is the first to speak up. “How do you want to do this?”

Laswell nods. “Finch will be arriving to a casino in Las Vegas—good place to deal with money when their are so many people around gambling for it. You’ll all need to be undercover, blend in with the crowd and find a way to keep his guards away from him.” She explains, pointing at a few pictures of Finch’s guards that followed him everywhere he went. “Here’s the tricky part, he has total control of surveillance. If he takes notice of anything then it’s over for us.”

“So, how do we get through without getting caught by cameras?” Soap is the one to ask this time, raising a brow at her as she softly grins at the man. “I know someone who can help us.” She digs into her bag and pulls out another folder, showing the boys before sliding it over to Price first, who takes the folder and reads through it.

“He goes by Rouge—slippery bastard but will help us. He’s a hacker, can easily slip in out of anything.” She stands up straight and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them carefully, passing the folder to each other as they read through the information and background. “He first hacked into the pentagon at the age of twelve, later at the age of fourteen he would hack into many wealthy companies and steal their personal information along with selling it. The kid got 5 companies to file for bankruptcy and nearly a hundred people were arrested for illegal information.”

Ghost takes the file next, eyes scanning the information as they land on a small picture clicked on the corner, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the other man’s features. Before he could hand the folder back to Laswell she speaks up fast. “Ghost, your mission is to keep a close eye on him and to protect him at all costs.” She refers to the hacker.

Ghost grunts, setting the folder down on the table. “Does he know how to use a gun?” He wants to make sure that the kid could at least defend himself or know how to fight. “He can handle a gun.” Laswell smiles back at ghost before she looks at everyone else. “Very well, he will be arriving tomorrow. Be prepared.” She instructed before giving them one last nod and leaving the room, giving them time to get ready for their new mission.

—

Simon wasn’t too happy that he’d have to sit back and take care of a new recruit. He wasn’t one to babysit rookies but Laswell had pulled him aside after their meeting and told him that their hacker was a slippery one and loved to escape their grip. The kid was smart and could easily steal millions without anyone noticing. Simon questioned himself as to why they haven’t arrested the rookie or perhaps kept a close eye on him? He wasn’t given a reason and he’d rather not ask why. Simon stayed back at base to wait for the hackers arrival while the others got ready, it was until Soap came out to join him when he asked. “Think the new guy knows what he’s doing?”

Simon sighs deeply and shrugs. “Not sure, let’s hope he doesn’t mess up our mission.” He wouldn’t want to deal with the rookies mess if he were to create one for himself. Both him and Soap watched as a plane comes down, landing near them as the two stood back and watched, the door slide open. The first thing the two men took notice of their new teammate was his height, he was around the same height as ghost, perhaps slightly taller by a few inches but he didn’t seem too intimidate. In fact, the new rookie wore all black with a case in hand, grinning at the two as he approached them. “Gentleman.” His voice was soft but also filled with a teasing tone, ghost knew he wasn’t going to like him.

Soap was the first to speak up. “Good to see ya! I’m soap, you’re the one they call rouge?” He questions. While the other nods. “Some call me Rouge others call me Fox.” He suddenly says, giving soaps hand a shake and eyeing Ghost up and down before focusing back to soap. “Fox?”

“You’ll know when you see my work.” Rouge answers, hand on his hip as he looks over his shoulder to see the other team members exiting the building. The first thing rouge does when the rest of the group approaches is pull Alejandro into a hug while the other laughs and slaps his hand against his shoulder. “Look at you! Portándote bien?”

“Como no?”

The two laugh at each other before pulling away. Simon glanced at the two, obviously knowing that the two had some sort of connection to each other but what surprised ghost the most was that the rookie spoke Spanish. He didn’t sound like he was learning, more like he was raised with it as a slight accent is hard in his words.

“It’s been too long, causing trouble again?” Alejandro added while Y/n smiles widely at his old friend. “I’m always causing trouble, because of my trouble I’m here to help you boys. Laswell caught me up on everything and thinks I can help with getting your guy.” He waves his case around, showing them his tools. “Good, we need someone like you.” Alejandro chuckles, giving the other a large smile.

“Good, now.” Price speaks up from the group. “Laswell already gave us the plans, let’s get ready and start heading out. Ghost—you and rouge should head down to the casino first, get in and find a safe place to stay hidden while Rouge does his own magic.”

Rouge smirks. “Si, Señor.”

That gets everyone moving, separating into different vehicles that they plan to take to Vegas. Rouge follows ghost towards their own car, getting up front as he sets his case on his lap, smiling softly to himself as ghost sighs deeply. “Let’s get this done quickly.” He states, starting the car up and driving away from base while Rouge opens his case and pulls out his laptop.

He flips it open and tries away, chewing on his lip as he focused on getting through the building and perhaps a map of the building. Ghost would glance over to him every few seconds before asking. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking for a blind spot.” He mutters out, tilting his head to the side. “Hm, the bathroom is one but it’ll be too crowded—too many people will come and go. Perhaps the security room?”

“Too dangerous—we can’t get anyone else involved into our mission.”

“Fine.” He continues to check for any other blind spots, scanning the floor and frowning. “We can do the roof.” He points out. “There’s a skylight on the casino, big enough for us to stay hidden and no cameras up there. If their are guards then we simply take them down and I’ll be able to work on peace. No one will get in our way and I have a clear view of the floor below me.” He explains, showing Ghost his laptop and an image of the skylight.

Ghost only gives it a glance before agreeing to the idea. The other man smiles softly and returns back to typing as he checks for any other alternates in case the skylight doesn’t, jumping softly to himself as he mumbled under his breath. “Todavía no.” He sighs to himself before closing his laptop and slipping it back inside the case. Ghost side eyes him before focusing back on the road, his hand gripping the steering wheel and asks.

“How do you and Alejandro know each other?”

Rouge hums. “Oh? Estas curioso?” He raises a brow.

“No.”

Rouge laughs at his response, throwing his head back and smiling widely. “I helped me with some personal matters, we tend to get in debt with each other.” He doesn’t provide much detail about their relationship, keeping it a secret from him. He didn’t need to tell Ghost further details about his own personal life, it was dangerous and could get him caught if he were to do anything that was considered illegal. He’d rather be safe and not spread too much information about himself which is why his file was so small when Laswell presented it to the boys, only giving his code name along with his skills. The rest was either a mystery to everyone or perhaps a lie in order to keep his identity hidden.

“I’m guessing this personal matter was something illegal.” Ghost decides to speak up again, pulling rouge out of his thoughts as he turns to face the other. He shakes his head in response to ghosts statement. “It wasn’t bad, I was simply helping a friend.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Alejandro did teach me a few things—“ he laughs. “His mother taught me Spanish, she’d force me to speak it when I’m around her and I learned to speak it fluently. She’d also get pissed when Alejandro taught me how to swear around her.” It was a fond memory that he treasured. The sound of an elderly women cussing out her son as she waved a wooden spoon while chasing him around. The women may be old in age but she still had some stamina in her when it came towards disciplining her children.

“I’m trying to learn—been getting dragged around a lot in Mexico and had grown to the language.” Ghost admits.

This gets rouges attention. “Really? Perhaps I can teach you along the way.” He offers, sitting up in his seat and thinks. “You can understand it?”

“A little.”

“Perfect, how about I just speak it every once an awhile before switching back to English. I heard that it helps.”

Ghost thinks about the idea before agreeing with the other man. He’s been around the others for awhile that he’s grown to know a few Spanish words that were repeated around frequently. He understands the language but can’t speak it. In truth, he only asked to learn since he enjoyed the sound of the other man’s voice whenever he spoke the language, soft and seductive and it lured ghost to the man.

“Muy bien—“ Rouge checks the watch on his wrist. “En dos horas llegamos a Las Vegas. Once we get there I’ll make sure that we get inside undetected and onto the roof while the others get ready for tonight.” Rouge had seen the others disguise and how they had to blend in with the other guards or as civilians who were coming in to gamble while both he and ghost remained on the roof.

“You don’t wear a vest.” Ghost suddenly points out since he was wearing all black and some leather gloves sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t need it, el disfraz que yo tengo puesto es suficiente.” Rouge blended well in the shadows, staying hidden from the publics eyes. He could get the job done and escape without leaving a trace of himself behind. He made sure to make no mistakes when on the job.

—

When they arrived to the casino they made sure to park in the back, waiting quietly as they watched the others enter the casino. The streets of Vegas were full, everyone either drinking or spending their money while they gamble. Rouge wasn’t one for parties but he didn’t mind gambling for some money or just taking money from the rich.

Looking through his scope he watched as the group got inside, signaling that it was there turn to move. Rouge puts his scope away and turns to ghost. “Listo?” He asks and gets a nod in response. Rouge grins, slipping on his own face mask to cover up the bottom half of his face, holding his case close as the two step out of the car and into the dark alleyways. The streets were dark and everyone was too intoxicated to take notice of the two of them as they climbed onto the roof top.

Rouge is the first to reach the top, hiding in the dark as he checks for any guards. “Esta seguro.” He whispers to ghost who followed after him. The two moving low and quiet as they reach the skylight, below them is the casino and gives them both a good view of the entire place. He smiles under his own mask and turns to ghost, leaning close to the other man as he whispers near his ear.

“Keep an eye out, yo hago lo demás.”

His words cause a shiver to run down ghosts spine as he watched Rouge sit near the skylight and open his case, pulling out his laptop and hacking into security. “Child’s play.” Rouge scoffs, easily getting into the security and getting access to all cameras and security numbers. “Ya entre.” He shows his laptop to ghost, showing him the surveillance footage.

Ghost raised his brows, impressed by his work. “Didn’t think it would be that easy.”

“no siempre es fácil.”

Ghost holds his gun in hand, ready for anything. “Para ti si es.” His Spanish is a little choppy and with a hint of his accent. His sudden words surprise Rouge who's eyes widen as he chuckles, clapping his hands twice. “Mirate! Ya andas aprendiendo, mi fantasma.”

Ghosts face heats up at his last words. He coughs and clears his throat, focusing back on the mission as Rouge worked on the cameras. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and focused on the computer in-front of him. “You know—this guy your getting why not get him when he’s alone? He’s been around many places without guards but you pick the casino out of all places.”

“We need to make sure that we catch him in the act when he launders money. Who knows what else he’s doing.”

Rouge frowns deeply under his mask. “Yeah, who knows.” His eyes cast down, staring down at the casino and watched people gamble. He watched the rich gamble away their money that they had no need for. He’s seen the way they’ve handled their money, too much to us that instead of giving it to those in need they become selfish and keep it for themselves. He sighs deeply and turns back to the cameras and takes notice of their target while the boys made a move to get him. Rouge sets his laptop to the side and comes to a stand, getting ghosts attention. “Mi haces un favor?”

“What is it?”

Rouge moves past him, going around the skylight. “Can you stand here and keep an eye from here? I took notice of a few escape routes for our target and in case he takes one I want to make sure that you take notice.”

“Wouldn’t the cameras show you?”

“Their blind spots and I wouldn’t be able to see.” He responds back and watched as ghost walks over to him, standing in a new area while rouge grins under his mask. “Gracias.” He stood close to ghost as he whispered his gratitude to him. Ghost tries to focus on his task while Rouge goes back to his laptop on the other side of the skylight, picking it up and typing away as he listens to the comms.

He looks down below at the casino. “And…lights out.” He pressed a key on his laptop as the lights go dark and the room goes into chaos as everyone panics while the guards grow cautious of the lights going out. Their comms go off while ghost grows confused.

“Soap, do you copy? What’s going on down there!” He shouts into his comm but gets no response, he can hear them but they can’t hear him. “What—?” He looks up to see rouge by the edge of the roof, mask removed as he gives ghost a Cheshire grin. “Adois, mi fantasma.” He gives him a wink and jumps off the building, disappearing into the crowded streets blow a ghost cursed under his breath.

He checks his vest to see that his comm was turned off, he’d thought he had it one this whole time. He’s quick to turn the comms back on and quickly gets in touch with the others.

“Ghost, how copy? Dammit ghost are you there?” He hears Soap call for him.

He turns to his comm and glared, before he can respond back the lights are back on in the casino. He growls in anger. “Copy, rouge escaped.” Laswell had warned him.

“Hijo de puta.” He hears Alejandro sigh out in frustration through the comms. “Did we get finch?” Ghost asks the real important question, wanting to make sure that their target was alive.

“No, he escaped.” Said Soap.

Ghost huffs angrily, making his way towards the edge of the roof and to make his way down. Once he reaches the bottom of the steps he finds the car still in the same place, meaning that rouge had escaped by foot. He walks up to the car and pulls the door open, supposed to see Finch tied up and gagged on the passenger seat. The man is unconscious and with a note stuck to its forehead.

Ghost rounds the car and opens the door, removing the note and reading it to himself.

“Para mi fantasma.”

Ghost laughs, shaking his head as he comms the others and let’s them know that their target was secure and alive. He ignored their questions of disbelief through the comms and focused back on the note in his gloved hand. “Fucking hell.”

#male reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #Simon Riley x male reader #Simon Riley #games

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